Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.
Acknowledgment: Rpeh for the beta work.
Chapter 5
Harry wasn't surprised to find Farha Patel was already awake. She was eating breakfast in her room while perusing the morning paper. Harry informed her that Emily was awake and was in his room with Avery. She just nodded and waved a hand at him, dismissing him from her company.
While it seemed mildly curt, he was too tired to care so he simply continued on his way. He didn't want to go back to his room, not yet. He needed time to think about what just happened. About how different she seemed. He remembered her being brighter and not quite as dour and tired.
He could remember her scoffing at him, her and Dumbledore arguing. Her saying it had all been a ruse. But he never actually believed that. It hadn't felt like a ruse. There were points where he could just tell. You couldn't fake a smile like that. You couldn't fake the amusement that had lit up her face in certain moments.
Yet none of that had been present. Well, at least not when she'd spoken to him. No, her face had seemed happy enough when she and Avery talked, sure. But that had vanished immediately upon seeing him. Harry frowned at how annoyed that made him as he paced through the castle halls.
He wanted to sleep. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. So instead he started to walk toward the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling above him was still dark when he entered the long hall. But the first vestiges of the sunrise contrasted with the droplets of rain that peppered the surface.
Harry didn't bother with the staff table. Instead he walked about halfway down the length between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables before sliding into a spot at the Ravenclaw table.
He tapped his fingers impatiently on the wood and moments later a glass of ice water and plate of eggs, sausage and toast appeared before him. He ate methodically, not really focusing very much on the food as his mind wandered.
He was halfway through the meal when the doors to the hall opened. A quick glance at his watch showed it was still too early in the morning for the students to be emerging. He turned his head and frowned as the Head of the Department of Magical Education stepped toward him.
Despite the early hour there wasn't a hair out of place on Hermione Granger. She was dressed formally, her hair in a bun. She walked right toward him and placed the case she was carrying on the table before sitting next to him on the bench.
"How did you know I was back?" Harry asked. Hermione raised her brows at him.
"Are you trying to avoid your review again?" she asked.
"Of course not. I just figured you'd show up after the sun came up," Harry said.
"By that point you'd be gone again," Hermione said.
"No. Too damn tired. I'll was planning on sleeping after I ate," Harry said.
"Sure you were," Hermione gave him a skeptical look.
"You never answered my question. How did you know I was back?" Harry asked, half wondering if she'd come up with some arrangement with Avery. No, Fumiko was more likely. She was more concerned with him finding amiable female companionship. Although he didn't get the impression that Fumiko liked Hermione all that much.
"Dobby is a good elf," she squeaked as a similar plate of food appeared next to her case. She prodded at one of the sausages with a fork for a moment before turning her gaze to Harry.
"The review, then?" Harry asked, figuring there was no way she was going to settle for not getting that done.
"Yes," Hermione said. "Should we start with the easy bit or the hard bit?"
"I do like getting hard things handled first," Harry said.
"You are still terrible," Hermione commented.
"I've been told," Harry said.
"I can imagine. Now will you tell me why, when I was jerked awake at an absurdly early hour by your elf," Hermine started.
"He's not mine," Harry said.
"By an elf in your employ," Hermione amended.
"Fine," Harry said.
"I was greeted with a letter of resignation from Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said.
"Really?" Harry asked unable to hide the surprise in his tone.
"Really," Hermione confirmed. "Any idea why?"
"I'm sure it says in the letter." Harry shrugged.
"Amazingly it does not," Hermione said. "It simply says that she wishes to move on from her current position and plans on going St. Mungo's to work as a healer rather than working with students. She'll stay on for a couple of weeks to help get her replacement up to speed."
"Nice of her," Harry said.
"So, what did you do?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing," Harry said.
"I am having a very difficult time believing that," Hermione said. "Two years ago Pomfrey told me she was completely fine with spending the rest of her working life at Hogwarts taking care of students. And now I received a letter of resignation in the wee hours of a Sunday morning."
"People change," Harry said.
"I have a hard time believing you don't know what this is about. Did you do something stupid like offer that Priya the job?" Hermione asked, making Priya sound like a curse.
"No," Harry said. "She wouldn't take it anyway. Pay isn't good enough. Could just be that she wants to bank some money and retire earlier you know."
"I'm sure it could be. And that it isn't," Hermione said.
"Well, regardless, I guess I'll be interviewing for a new nurse then," Harry said.
"Really?" Hermione asked.
"Well if mine is quitting," Harry said before taking another forkful of food.
"And here I assumed you'd have a replacement all lined up," Hermione said. "Given that Miss Patel once worked for you."
"Again, doesn't pay enough," Harry said, trying to hide his annoyance that she hadn't believed him the first time. "And she just took a job making probably ten times the amount of money I could reasonably offer her. She has far too expensive tastes for me to talk her into ever working for me again."
"So how did you pull it off in Japan?" Hermione asked. Harry eyed her for a moment.
"Carefully," he said, smiling at the memory.
"Why won't you talk to me about it?" Hermione asked as Harry turned his attention back to his plate of food.
"I did talk to you about it. When we were in Japan," Harry said.
"That was barely pillow talk," Hermione scoffed. "And it hardly counts."
"Are we here to discuss Japan or are we here to do my completely irrelevant review," Harry said.
"It's not irrelevant," Hermione frowned. "And why can't it be both?"
"Because I'm too damn tired. Maybe after a nap we could get to the other one. So pick your poison."
"Well we should get the review done first and leave the afternoon open," Hermione said.
"Afternoon?" Harry asked.
"Well it is a Sunday and I have no plans so if you're offering to talk about Japan after your review," Hermione said.
"Didn't you just imply that was pillow talk?" Harry asked.
"If you play your cards right," Hermione said without the slightest trace of a blush.
"Are you bribing me to make the review go easier?" Harry asked.
"Is it working?" Hermione countered.
"I guess we'll know after the review," Harry said, spearing another forkful of eggs and looking at Hermione expectantly.
"Well then," Hermione said. "Since I assume you're not going to magically know why Pomfrey quit I suppose we can move onto the next items on the agenda."
"Well what would that be?" Harry asked. Hermione dug through her bag and took out a quill and parchment.
"Have you met any challenges you felt you were unable to handle adequately in your first month?" Hermione asked.
"Is this going to be just a series of questions that drive me batty?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hermione countered.
"No. I have not encountered any challenges where I felt inadequate," Harry said.
"Great. Professor McGonagall speaks quite highly of you so far. She says you've met every challenge so far," Hermione said.
"Can she do the rest of the review for me then?" Harry asked.
"No," Hermione said. "Now is there anything that you feel the Ministry would be able to help you with. And don't say fewer reviews. If you appease me enough today I'll settle for them every semester."
"Apparently I need a new nurse," Harry sighed. "I'm more than willing to, given the busy nature of the school year, let the ministry vet the first few candidates if they're willing."
"I would be more than willing to arrange that. After I've spoken with Pomfrey I'll start the preliminary process," Hermione said.
"Great," Harry said. But his mind wandered then. Not enough that he couldn't provide passable answers to Hermione's questions. His thoughts wandered to Japan. His mind finding amusement in that everything had been quite the opposite.
When he'd started his school, with every intention of eventually giving it up to the locals, it had been a much less organized effort. It had started with a handful of students and even fewer Professors who were in reality nothing more than volunteers.
They'd all looked to him to make every decision. They'd all deferred to his judgement. They'd all treated him like some sort of star. For no other reason this his name. No, that wasn't true. They looked to him for a reason other than his name. They'd looked to him because of the gift he'd granted them. Because they knew, intrinsically, just what that gift cost. And because they respected him for that. But through it all, they'd expected all of his decisions to be correct.
They weren't, obviously. But they'd managed to work around all of that. The first year was rocky. Still, when it ended, everyone involved had learned something and they'd convinced more students to join their small school, as magic returned to Nagasaki.
At first it was mixed. Some people came because they truly wanted to be taught by Harry Potter and his strange coterie of English wizards. Some were merely denied by the premier magical schools in the area, for reasons of room or talent level. Harry had no problem letting them come study with him.
Some of the locals frowned upon the new institution's liberal acceptance rates. But he saw no reason in refusing anyone who wanted to learn. Slowly and slowly they gathered more renown, more students, more staff and more everything.
And slowly and slowly Harry ceded power. It seemed only proper. He wasn't trying to build an English school in Japan. He'd been trying to give them their magic back. To let them return to what they'd been. And act of penance, he supposed. Although he wasn't ever quite sure just what he was absolving himself of.
Still, in Nagasaki, he'd started with all of the power, and all of the control. He'd go into meetings where the entire crowd gathered was waiting his every word of garbled Japanese. They'd revered him.
And he'd given it all back. Because it had been the correct thing to do. Year by year he gave away bits of his power, bits of his control, bits of his renown. Until he was nothing more than a highly thought of substitute here or there. Finally, he'd known it was time to return to England. To let them go, as it were. They no longer needed him.
So in Japan he'd started with all of the control. And relinquished it step by step until he'd made himself irrelevant. And while back in England it was just the opposite. He'd started with thousands of eyes locked onto him. And he had to fight for everything. To the point of the Head of the Department of Magical Education essentially lecturing him during a review.
He pushed the thoughts from his head as he gave another inane answer to Hermione. Deep down he knew he couldn't fault her. He knew that she was simply trying her best. That was all she was capable of. Putting all of her effort into exactly what she was supposed to do. She took it all so much more seriously than he did. And that probably said something negative about him and not her.
That knowledge didn't make it any easier to answer the questions though. Or lessen his annoyance that he was still awake after not sleeping nearly enough while in the Arctic. He stifled a yawn as he answered another question.
Then he heard the doors to the Great Hall open as Hermione asked a follow up. A glance to the slowly brightening ceiling made him think it probably wasn't a student entering, but Hermione required more of his attention than any new intrusion.
He answered her carefully, sensing that she was probing him more closely now. Looking for something that he didn't want to give her until he knew exactly what she expected of him.
His eyes shifted as he finished answering the question. Another person approached their table. She leaned across it and slid his plate toward the bench across from him and sat down. She started on the remains of his eggs before he could protest.
Harry's eyes focused on her. Unlike Hermione she was as far from buttoned up. She wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of his athletic shorts. The shirt was a pale blue one with the logo of a Canadian quidditch team on it. It was too big for her, falling off of one of her shoulders and he wondered why she hadn't even bothered to shrink it. She'd adjusted the shorts to fit.
She'd pulled her hair back into a loose pony tail. But even that was messy and haphazard, looking almost like she'd never done it before. A few strands of it fell down across her face as she plucked at a breakfast sausage.
"Should you…uhm…be out of bed?" Harry asked. Emily's tired eyes lifted slowly to lock onto him.
"No," she said, focusing her attention back onto the first real food she'd seen in a decade. Harry saw Hermione shift. He turned his attention back to her and watched her eyes narrow as they focused on Emily. And then shifted back to him. And then back to Emily. And then back to him.
She reached for her case on the table and raised it up into the air before bringing it down directly on Harry's shoulder. Once, twice, three times. Emily looked up from her food, her eyes narrowing at each impact.
"You stupid, stupid, idiot, stupid!" Hermione yelled.
"Ow!" Harry flinched away from the impact. He shifted away from Hermione, out of range of her onslaught. Once he was safe, Emily went back to eating his food.
"What were you thinking?" Hermione shrieked, fumbling for her wand.
"That we can't possibly do this alone," Harry said.
"And this was your solution?" Hermione yelled.
"Yes," Harry said.
"Harry she's a psychopath!" Hermione said.
"She's a powerful witch," Harry said.
"Who wants to kill you!" Hermione countered.
"If she wanted me dead I'd be dead," Harry said. "You can stop pointing your wand at her. It wouldn't work anyway."
"I do not feel safe with that," Hermione said.
"She's not going to do anything to you. And I'd stop her if she tried," Harry said.
"You'd try," Emily muttered.
"What was that?" Harry snapped.
"More food please," Emily said, almost cheerily. Harry peered at his plate and realized it was empty.
"Just have the elves replenish it," Harry said.
"The elves only serve students and staff," Hermione and Emily said in unison. Harry peered between them. Emily looked down at the plate. Hermione scoffed to herself.
"You should really read Hogwarts, A History," Emily said. Hermione glared at her.
"Fine," Harry said and closed his eyes for a moment. Another plate of eggs and sausage appeared. He slid it across the table to Emily.
"Thank you," she said meekly.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Bloody Mary?" Emily asked.
"What?" Harry blinked, thinking it was far too early for that.
"Muggle drink. Vodka, tomato juice, Worchester-" Emily started.
"I know what it is," Harry said. "Isn't it a little early for that?"
"No," Emily said. Harry sighed and took a deep breath but the drink appeared a moment later. Emily stopped eating long enough to gulp down half of it almost instantly.
"Harry do you even realize what you've done?" Hermione asked.
"Of course I do," Harry said.
"He doesn't," Emily said.
"You're not helping," Harry said.
"I'm not trying to," Emily said. "Another drink please? With more olives this time."
"You finished the first one already?" Harry asked. When Emily just glared at him he figured it was best to just get her another drink. He thought of bleu cheese stuffed olives though, out of spite. She glared at them but didn't comment.
"Harry, I can't have Lord Voldemort in my school," Hermione said.
"Technically it's my school," Harry said.
"My name is Emily," Emily said with her mouth full of eggs.
"I know your name, Mrs. Price," Hermione scoffed. "And my previous statement still stands."
"Nice to meet you," Emily said.
"We are not doing this!" Hermione said. "Seriously Harry. What the hell were you thinking? It's obvious why Pomfrey resigned. How do you expect Flitwick, Sprout, or McGonagall are going to take this?"
"Poorly," Harry said. "But I'll explain it to them."
"Because that will work. It's not like they'll just assume Avery seduced you-"
"Gross."
"I'd watch."
"-and convinced you to bring back his old master! How did you…wait…what are you two even," Hermione threw her hands up in annoyance as she spoke.
"I'll just tell them the truth. I can make Dumbledore's portrait confirm it too," Harry said.
"No," Emily said.
"But," Harry started.
"No," Emily said. "My story is not yours to tell. You will not use it as some tale of woe to better your situation."
"So, when every professor at this institution quits, how do you expect me to explain that?" Hermione said.
"They won't quit," Emily said. She fished the spear of olives out of her drink and ate one off of it. She looked thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and eating the second one.
"What on Earth gives you that idea?" Hermione asked.
"Drink please," Emily said.
"Do you think you should keep at it?" Harry asked.
"I am not facing today sober," Emily said.
"Fair enough," Harry said as another drink appeared.
"I am failing to see how you are going to do anything helpful," Hermione said.
"I'll talk to them," Emily said.
"Because that will work," Hermione retorted.
"It will," Emily agreed. "Once I've spoken with them, things will be back to normal."
"Oh Merlin. You're going to curse them," Hermione said.
"No wand and no magic," Emily responded.
"What?" Harry gasped.
"Are you serious?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Emily said. "So when it's not an absurd hour, I'll clean up Harry's mess and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do."
"What if they try to kill you?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think any of them have the stones to attempt to murder me in cold blood. But if they do, then I have considerably less to worry about," Emily said.
"You can't be so nonchalant about death," Hermione said.
"Why not? I've mostly done it twice," Emily said, this time eating the olives out of the drink before starting on it.
"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Hermione said.
"We're not," Emily responded as she shoved the final forkful of egg into her mouth. She washed it down with a large gulp of her drink and stood.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked.
"I think Filius or Minerva are likely awake now. May as well start prostrating myself and hope for the best," Emily said.
"The best?" Harry asked.
"Killing curse to the head," Emily responded. She leaned over the table in front of Harry, his too-big shirt falling off of her as she grabbed her drink. She readjusted it around her shoulders when she stood and took another sip.
"I'll go with you," Harry said.
"No," Emily responded, very sternly. "I'll clean up your mess myself."
"Should you maybe get dressed?" Harry asked.
"Probably," Emily said, taking another sip of her drink, and stepping from the Great Hall.
"Harry, if she kills one of the teachers," Hermione started.
"She won't," Harry interrupted.
"You can't know that," Hermione scoffed.
"Why do you think she will?" Harry asked.
"Because she's a murderer!" Hermione argued.
"I don't go around just killing staff members," Harry said.
"What? Why would you. That's ridiculous," Hermione said.
"I'm a murderer," Harry said.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.
"Five in New York. About ten in Milwaukee. Close to the same number in Japan. Twenty-odd in Canada. Thirty or so in India," Harry said.
"Harry," Hermione said.
"And that's even before we get into debacle that was Oslo," Harry continued.
"It's not the same!" Hermione interjected.
"Sure it is," Harry said. "I was there. I had major disagreements with people. Rather than settle it diplomatically we resorted to violence. When it was over there were fewer of them and the same amount of me."
"Those were Dark Wizards, Harry," Hermione said.
"Some were," Harry said. "It's really not that simple. Sometimes I killed out of anger. Sometimes for survival. And sometimes just to make the next step easier. Ideal wise, I didn't agree with any of them, sure. But that doesn't make them any less dead. And unless you believe that might makes right, it doesn't make me any more correct than they thought they were."
"But you're not evil," Hermione said.
"Outside of the war I'm pretty sure my body count is higher than hers," Harry said. "And hers started out mostly with criminals and terrible people."
"And that makes it right?" Hermione asked.
"Of course not," Harry said. "Nor did it make it right when I did it. Just easier. And given that I am not running around offing people left and right I think we can give her the benefit of the doubt."
"You can't seriously trust her," Hermione said.
"Not yet," Harry said. "Not entirely at least."
"And when she tries to kill you again?" Hermione asked.
"She can't," Harry said.
"She can't?! She can't?! Why on Earth would you possibly believe that?" Hermione asked. "Do you think because you beat her once she couldn't possibly one up you?"
"No," Harry said. "It's deeper than that, Hermione."
"Are you going to tell me?" Hermione asked.
"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Not until after I've talked with her about it. I have a few hunches. Hunches I'm reasonably certain about, mind you. But still, I'd like to discuss it with her first."
"So, she could still hurt you," Hermione said.
"No. That part I'm fairly confident on. It's just the semantics around it that I'd like to confirm," Harry said.
"If she can't hurt you, Harry, then why the entire thing? Why kill your parents? Why have the whole war? Why do any of it?" Hermione asked.
"It's a more recent development than that. If I had to guess I'd say probably during the spring of our fifth year," Harry said.
"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione said.
"Professor Potter," Minerva McGonagall's voice rang through the Great Hall. As soon as she saw the two of them she started marching toward them.
"Oh, this can't be good," Harry said.
"I'll go find Poppy," Hermione said. "And deal with you and this later."
"Lovely to see you, Miss Granger. But I really need to speak to the Headmaster alone," McGonagall said.
"I was just finishing up anyway," Hermione said as she stood from the table.
"Walk with me, Harry," McGonagall said.
"Okay Minerva," Harry responded as the transfiguration professor led him from the Great Hall.
"I trust you know what this is about," Minerva said as sternly as she could muster.
"I have a fairly good idea," Harry responded as they turned toward the staff tower. A group of Hufflepuffs on their way to an early breakfast dodged out of their way as they walked passed. Harry thought he recognized a few members of the quidditch team, but he didn't spare them more than a glance.
"So you can imagine our surprise when, during our weekly morning tea, Filius and I had a visitor," Minerva continued.
"Good surprise or bad surprise?" Harry asked.
"That remains to be seen," McGonagall said.
"Who recognized her first?" Harry asked.
"I think we recognized her at about the same time. I am a little surprised that you didn't deny that she's who we thought," Minerva said.
"Would that have done any good?" Harry asked.
"Unlikely," McGonagall said.
"But you're not surprised that I brought her back?" Harry asked.
"No," Minerva paused for a moment, raising herself up to her full height, which was still a few inches shorter than him, and looking at him. Something that was far more menacing when she was taller than him. "Albus always thought you might."
"Of course he did," Harry said. "And had a thousand plans in place for when it happened, I'm sure."
"He told us to act how we saw fit," Minerva said.
"And?" Harry asked.
"How would you react, Headmaster, if a drunk young woman wandered, half-naked, into your study at six in the morning?" Minerva asked.
"That would depend entirely on my relationship with said drunk young lady, the amount of alcohol in my own system, and how much sleep I'd gotten in the last twelve hours," Harry responded.
"Are you ever not flippant?" McGonagall snapped.
"Yes," Harry said, flippantly.
"Why did you do it?" McGonagall asked.
"I can't beat Grindelwald alone," Harry said.
"I'm sure there are people who believe that reason. Or at least that do not call you out when you give it to them. But you were never a good liar," McGonagall said.
"But I can't," Harry said.
"Maybe. Maybe not. That is an excuse you are using to justify your actions. It is not the reason for them," McGonagall said. "It is not why you did what you did. Just tell me it is not something unbearably stupid. Tell me you don't think she cared for you. Or that you aren't foolish enough to care for her."
"While I don't agree with a lot of what she did. I don't hate her," Harry admitted.
"Albus did say you had a remarkable capacity for empathy," McGonagall responded as they entered the office. Emily was asleep on the couch, snoring softly, her hair somehow out of the ponytail and covering most of her face. The diminutive charms professor, Filius Flitwick, sat in a chair across from her. He was nursing a cup of coffee and wore a curious expression as he looked upon the sleeping witch.
"Does he have a good reason?" Flitwick asked.
"He's yet to give me one," McGonagall answered.
"I did. You said I was lying," Harry said.
"No, I said you had an excuse and not a reason. Most educators can tell the difference, Headmaster," McGonagall responded.
"Ouch," Harry said.
"So what are we doing about this?" Flitwick said, gesturing to Emily on the couch.
"Harry seems to feel that she is crucial to the upcoming war effort against Grindelwald," McGonagall said.
"He's already decided there's going to be a war," Flitwick said.
"And lost the first engagement," Harry said.
"Which is apparently why he decided he needed that," McGonagall said as she peered down at Emily with a very disdainful look.
"Well that's marginally better than I'd anticipated," Flitwick responded.
"What did everyone anticipate," Harry sighed.
"I'd think that obvious," McGonagall said. "More so considering her current attire."
"Hey I didn't dress her," Harry said. "And I pity anyone that would try."
"And did you think that people would be willing to accept this decision?" Flitwick asked.
"I had hoped I wouldn't have to tell many people. I don't plan on advertising it," Harry said.
"And us?" Flitwick asked.
"I had no intention of keeping her return a secret from the staff," Harry said. "And I was hoping I could trust them with that information."
"And if you can't?" Flitwick asked.
"Then I'm run out of the country and the Ministry likely gains control of Hogwarts," Harry responded.
"So, you're levying past hatred toward governmental interference?" McGonagall asked.
"It's about all I have," Harry said.
"And the need to fight Grindelwald?" Flitwick asked.
"I saw a leader avoid the fight everywhere possible. I don't want to be that leader. Eventually, they're going to ask me to fight him. I'd rather it not come to that," Harry said.
"By acting first you can easily turn yourself into the villain," Flitwick said.
"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "I'm already the villain in the eyes of the Ministry. I'd just like to hope most of the continent remembers Grindelwald and sees me as a better alternative."
"As she's the more recent threat than Gellert Grindelwald. People may well be more afraid of her than him," Flitwick said.
"And you?" Harry asked.
"They're both terrifying," Flitwick said. "And they both believed in the superiority of magic. What's to stop her from joining him?"
"Pride," Harry said.
"Pride?" Flitwick chuckled.
"She won't join anyone. She won't follow anyone," Harry said.
"And yet you think she'll follow you? You're contradicting yourself," McGonagall said.
"I don't think she'll follow me," Harry said. "I just need her to do exactly what she did before."
"Try to kill you? Harry everything negative in your life came from her," McGonagall responded.
"No. She's going to protect me," Harry said.
"Minerva, he…" Flitwick started.
"Sounds insane," McGonagall finished.
"I'm not," Harry said.
"Then explain your reasoning," McGonagall said.
"It's complicated," Harry said. "But it's the same reason Avery follows me. It's the same reason I walked out of the ministry. I didn't actually kill her. I think everyone who knows me knows that. She did it all to get me out of there," Harry frowned as he tried to explain events he himself wasn't nearly as sure of as he'd hoped.
"You're not giving us a reason," Flitwick said.
"I guess I'm not," Harry responded. "It's hard to explain and there's a whole lot of things involved that don't make sense. But I don't think she can hurt me. And I think that, eventually, I'll be able to sway her to help me."
"You have to give us something more than that," McGonagall responded.
"I can't. It's a strange combination of things. Did Dumbledore tell you why it had to be me?" Harry asked.
"Eventually," Flitwick frowned.
"Well so you know that a part of her was inside of me and likely a part of me in her. So attacking me becomes more problematic as it's attacking her," Harry lied. It was an excuse that he thought they would eat up. McGonagall looked skeptical.
"Dumbledore expected that might happen. But he figured it would only work once," Flitwick said.
"There's more. But that's where it gets strange. And I can't claim to be in her head," Harry frowned at the words. "But I think she regrets something with my parents. And I think I remind her of something she lost ages ago. And because of that, she's not going to do anything to harm me."
"And what of the rest of us?" McGonagall asked.
"That would annoy me and lead to a conflict with me. And given that I don't think she's suicidal, I don't think that's going to happen," Harry said.
"And can you guarantee that she will not harm any of the students?" Flitwick asked.
"I can't guarantee that either of you won't harm any of the students," Harry said. "But I don't think you will, and I don't think she will. And if she does I will do everything in my power to ensure that it never happens again and resign when that's done."
"Well you are learning, if slowly," McGonagall sighed.
"Minerva are you really okay with this?" Flitwick asked gesturing to the sleeping witch before of him. It was as if sensing that the Transfiguration matron had made up her mind.
"No," McGonagall said. "But Dumbledore told us to trust Harry."
"That was a portrait," Flitwick said.
"And the man himself years before," McGonagall countered. "I think he's earned some trust. But if there is any sign that he, or she, is undeserving of that faith then we will have no choice but to act."
"I would expect nothing else," Harry said.
"I'll go talk to the staff that could recognize her," McGonagall said.
"And tell them what?" Harry said.
"I have no idea," McGonagall responded as she started to leave the room. "But I am sure that anything I can come up with will be better than your psychotic Grindewald excuse."
"You're really going to go along with this?" Flitwick asked.
"I have to trust the Headmaster," McGonagall said. "Besides. I think it presents an interesting situation."
"And what's that?" Flitwick asked.
"She could lift the curse on the defense post," McGonagall said. But we can discuss those possibilities later, Filius. For now, I think I should speak with the staff as soon as possible. Pomfrey and Sprout, I imagine, will not take the news well."
"If you think that's the best course of action," Flitwick said.
"I do," McGonagall said as she left. Harry watched her go, wondering if she would succeed where he knew he'd fail.
"You should get her out of my sitting room, Headmaster," Flitwick said tersely. Harry nodded and levitated Emily from the room.
To Harry's surprise. McGonagall succeeded in her mission. It was a very tense three days. Tense to the point that Hermione even bailed on the rest of his review. He knew that wouldn't end well for him. But for the time being he had other things to worry about. Which consisted mostly of waiting for something to be published claiming he'd brought back a Dark Lord.
But that news didn't appear in the Prophet. In fact, nothing that really resembled news appeared in the prophet. It seemed like nothing other than fluff pieces designed to distract from the crisis at hand. It infuriated Harry.
And that was exemplified by Avery shrugging and saying that maybe, just maybe, the crisis was more in Harry's mind than reality.
He leaned back in his chair and gazed out the window of his office. Avery's words bugged him. Probably because he could sense a bit of truth to them. He'd given up trying to get any work done that afternoon. Instead he was just waiting for the evening paper, knowing full well that would just darken his mood.
Still, McGonagall wouldn't tell him what she'd said to whom, or what she'd promised. But he still had his full staff and Emily hadn't interrupted any of the day-to-day proceedings. He wondered how long it would last.
He kept gazing out the window. His eyes tracing over the edges of the lake. Eventually they came to rest on a stone bench on the shoreline with two familiar figures seated on it.
He frowned, wondering what they could be saying. Suddenly he didn't feel like being in his office any longer.
"This seat taken?" Alexander Avery asked as he stood next to a stone bench on the shore of the lake.
"Not as of yet," Emily Price responded quietly, his voice barely audible against the general noise of the school and the students. It wasn't quite cold enough to deter most from venturing outside and some of the students were enjoying the last vestiges of sunlight before the evening meal.
"You've been avoiding me," Avery said.
"Don't take it personally. I've been avoiding everyone," Emily responded.
"I'm surprised that you've managed to avoid Harry," Avery said. Emily leaned back on the bench and stared up toward the sky.
"He's not that hard to avoid," Emily replied.
"I don't know," Avery said. "In my experience he can be quite persistent."
"I'm sure. But I think like him. You do not," Emily said. "That makes him easier to predict."
"Do you think like him or does he think like you?" Avery asked.
"Is there a difference?" Emily asked.
"We both know the answer to that," Avery said.
"Yet you still asked the question," Emily said.
"I did," Avery said. And they sat in silence. The older man gazed over at the younger woman. Her face was turned upward toward the sun, a ghost of a smile appearing on her visage. Eventually Avery won and she spoke.
"Fumiko seems nice," Emily said.
"She is," Avery smiled.
"One day you'll have to tell me how that happened," Emily said.
"What, think I can't woo someone without your help?" Avery asked.
"What makes you think I didn't help?" Emily asked. Avery laughed aloud.
"Of course," he shook his head. "Just couldn't resist playing matchmaker?"
"Never," Emily said. "Although I liked Celia more. You're old enough to be Fumiko's father."
"Not quite," Avery said. "Less of an age gap than you and Burke."
"I didn't marry Burke. Mostly I used him for free meals," Emily said.
"I don't doubt you used him. But I don't think you did so for free meals," Avery said.
"Did you come out here to talk about me?" Emily asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"I don't know why I came out here," Avery sighed.
"Under orders, I presumed," Emily said.
"No," Avery said. "I haven't been under orders for a very long time."
"Is that so? Then why haven't you left him?" Emily asked.
"Well at first I was a fugitive but people mostly ignored that as long as I was with Harry. And then he started to do fascinating things," Avery said.
"Like what?" Emily asked.
"Everything," Avery shrugged. "He would just do magical things seemingly without a thought. I mean I got him drunk one night and he stole the Lunar Module."
"Why would he do that?" Emily looked away to hide a smile.
"He wanted to try to go to the moon. He was very drunk. He put it back a few days later. But he did it, from New York, by simply waving his hand. There were moments when he made me feel like a muggle. It was like being around you when you decided to show off," Avery said. He paused for the briefest of moments before adding, "And I wanted to see what he'd do next."
"And that led you to Japan?" Emily asked.
"Eventually," Avery said. "It was a long, strange trip."
"What happened there?" Emily probed.
"That's his story to tell. My part in it was simply doing the books, balancing the budgets, and meeting a pretty but depressed shop girl with minimal magical talent," Avery said.
"An accountant and a shop girl?" Emily asked, with her brows raised.
"Something like that," Avery said.
"Her version was more romantic than yours," Emily said.
"That's not surprising," Avery said. "May I ask when you spoke with her?"
"When she helped me acquire an acceptable wardrobe for a modern young lady," Emily responded, a taste of vehemence in her tone she spoke. Avery smiled to himself, but knew better than to laugh aloud as he wondered if her annoyance was at being considered a young lady, or modern clothing.
"She mentioned conversing briefly. She thought your Japanese was quite good for how out of practice it was," Avery said.
"So she said. She also implied that Harry was likely to use you to attempt to get some information out of me," Emily said.
"To which, I believe, you responded would be a futile endeavor," Avery said.
"So, what does the boy want to know?" Emily sighed.
"I've no idea. He does wonder if you even still have magic. He's openly questioned that, given that it does not seem like you've done any since coming back," Avery said.
"That would really throw a wrench into his plans, wouldn't if. If I were a squib now?" Emily asked.
"He hasn't fully shared that plan with me as of yet. But I would assume it is contingent on you having magic. I assume you still do," Avery said.
"Of course," Emily said. And as if to prove a point she waved her hand toward the lake. About a quarter of the water froze into a perfect square before her.
"Why avoid using it then?" Avery asked.
"Are you asking for you or for him?" Emily responded.
"For both," Harry said from behind them, his eyes resting on the patch of ice on the lake.
"Unfortunately," Emily said quietly, "The answer is different for each of you."
"Well share one of them," Harry suggested. Emily kept her silence, her lips pressed tightly together.
"Preferably the one for me," Avery said dryly. Emily's lips curled upward as he spoke.
"I'm not sure that's a great idea," Emily said
"Someone once told me that we must always be willing to explain our actions," Harry said.
"You really want to know?" Emily asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
"Come find out then," Emily responded. She waved her hand toward her feet and a pair of ice skates materialized on them. She took four shaky steps toward the lake and then skated onto it, moving away from the two men on the shore.
"Can you skate?" Avery asked.
"I didn't think I could," Harry shrugged. "But I've been wrong before."