Chapter Eighteen: Many Meetings
"Fizzing Whizzbees!"
"Fudge Flies!"
"Sugar Quills!"
"Peppermint Toads!"
Finally, after a solid minute of shouting out every Honeydukes sweet he could think of, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office finally leapt aside and allowed Harry to pass. He raced up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door, hoping that the headmaster hadn't left his office in the short time it took for Harry to get there.
Fortunately, he was immediately granted entry and stepped inside the office to see Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk with a look of surprise on his face.
"Harry, to what do I owe this unusually late pleasure?"
"Sir, I found one!" he responded excitedly, holding up the hastily conjured pine box he had used to transport the Horcrux.
Dumbledore looked perplexed for half a moment, but then his eyes widened in recognition. "Set it down," he ordered, practically leaping out of his chair and moving to join Harry on the other side of the desk.
As requested, Harry gently placed the box on Dumbledore's desk and removed the lid.
"Where did you find this?" asked the professor, as he waved his wand back and forth over the box.
"There's a room on the seventh floor that can transform into basically anything you want," explained Harry. "I asked it for a hiding place and found the Horcrux inside."
"Was it really so simple?"
"Er — not quite. There had to be thousands of different items hidden there, maybe even hundreds of thousands. I only found it because the magic felt similar to the locket."
"I see," said Dumbledore. "Your sensing skills seem to be developing nicely. There is no doubt that this is one of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes."
"Do you know what it was, sir? Why he would've chosen this tiara?"
"Unless I am very much mistaken, this is the famed Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw," the headmaster replied sadly.
"You mean this once belonged to Ravenclaw?"
"I believe so," confirmed Dumbledore. "We know that Tom had already procured artefacts associated with Hufflepuff and Slytherin, so it stands to reason that he would search for items belonging to the other two Founders as well. The real mystery is how he managed to accomplish the feat, considering the diadem had been thought lost for nearly a millennium."
"Wow, really?"
"Tom always was quite resourceful," he replied. Turning back towards Harry, he continued, "Not unlike yourself, I might add. I must congratulate you on finding a Horcrux, although I do wish you had asked for my assistance first, as you promised."
"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly.
"No matter," returned Dumbledore. "Please wait here a moment; and be sure not to touch the Horcrux."
The professor walked back around the desk and up the short staircase that led to the back rooms of the office. He returned a short while later carrying a shining silver sword — one which was immediately recognisable by the enormous, glittering rubies set into the hilt.
"Sir, is that the Sword of Gryffindor?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"Indeed, it is," replied Dumbledore. "Fear not; the sword is not a Horcrux," he clarified, correctly interpreting Harry's expression. "While Tom certainly would have coveted having a complete set of heirlooms from the Hogwarts Founders, I am confident that you were the first person in centuries to come into contact with the sword."
"Well that's good, but then why did you bring it out?"
"Ah, well you see, Harry, the only way to destroy a Horcrux is to damage the container in such a manner that it cannot be repaired, even through magical means," explained Dumbledore. "Being designed to safeguard a portion of the creator's soul, they are typically imbued with a variety of magical protections, making destroying them quite difficult."
"And the sword can destroy them?"
Instead of answering, Dumbledore posed a question of his own. "Tell me, Harry, what do you know of goblin silver?" he enquired.
"Not much," shrugged Harry. "Just that it's rare and expensive."
"Quite," nodded the professor. "And that is at least in part due to its inherent properties. You see, goblin silver will never tarnish nor stain, yet if it comes into contact with a substance that would strengthen it, the silver will take on that substance's properties."
"I'm not sure I follow," said Harry.
"Think back," replied Dumbledore, almost as if he were teaching a class. "Did this particular sword not recently come into contact with an extremely rare, yet highly dangerous substance?"
"Basilisk venom?" Harry responded after a moment's thought. "Are you saying the sword absorbed the venom when I stabbed the basilisk?"
"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "Basilisk venom is one of the few substances destructive enough to damage a Horcrux beyond magical repair, so we are quite fortunate to have such a weapon at our disposal."
"So…can I destroy it, then?" Harry asked eagerly. He was the one who found it and was the reason they even had the sword in the first place, so it seemed only fair.
"Very well," agreed Dumbledore, albeit reluctantly. "First, I would ask you to conjure a stone block for us to set it on."
Harry pulled out his wand and conjured a large, rectangular slab of granite in the centre of the room. Dumbledore nodded approvingly, and then levitated the diadem out of the box and across the room, before gently setting it down on the granite slab.
"Please do be careful," said Dumbledore, as he handed the sword to Harry. "While it may be possible that the incident in your second year rendered you immune to basilisk venom, I would prefer we not put that theory to the test."
Carefully grasping the sword with both hands, he stood over the granite slab while Dumbledore slowly backed away. He fixed his gaze on the Horcrux, and for a brief moment he thought he could hear it whispering to him. Not even remotely interested in anything a piece of Voldemort's soul had to say, Harry raised the sword of his House's namesake and brought it down on the diadem in one fell swoop.
There was a flash when the sword connected, accompanied a small shockwave and followed by a disturbing, high-pitched wail from the Horcrux, which thankfully faded away as quickly as it came. Exchanging glances with one another, both Harry and Professor Dumbledore moved to inspect the diadem, which had been cleaved in two and was smoking slightly. Stepping closer, they could see a black, tar-like substance slowly oozing out of each remaining half.
"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly. "We are now one step closer to permanently ending Lord Voldemort."
oOoOoOo
The next morning at breakfast, Harry made sure to sit at the far end of the Gryffindor table so he could catch Ron, Hermione, and Neville up on the previous evening without being overheard.
"That's unbelievable!" whispered Hermione. "I can't believe he would hide one of those…things…right here in Hogwarts."
"This was the first place that felt like home to him," explained Harry, suddenly avoiding eye contact with the others. "I can definitely see why he would've wanted to keep a piece of himself here."
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks but didn't respond.
"And Dumbledore really said he'd take you with him when he destroys the rest?" asked Neville, sounding somewhat awestruck.
"Yeah, he didn't say when, though. Before I left last night, he said he might have a lead on one, but it didn't sound like it was going to happen anytime soon."
"And what did he say about Umbridge?" asked Hermione. "Is he going to do anything about her literally torturing you during detention?"
"I — er — may have forgotten to mention it…"
The other three Gryffindors just stared at him, mouths agape.
"What? I was a bit distracted at the time, you know?"
Shaking her head, Hermione told him, "Honestly, Harry, you need to tell Dumbledore as soon as possible."
"I will," he agreed, but then his attention was diverted by the arrival of the owl post.
He watched closely as dozens of owls swooped into the Great Hall, his heart practically skipping a beat when he saw a white-speckled tawny winging its way towards him. The owl landed directly in front of Harry and extended its right leg, allowing him to untie the letter.
"Is that…" Hermione asked reverently.
"I think so," replied Harry, holding up the large square envelope.
"Go on, open it," Ron encouraged him, and Harry slit open the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside.
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS
Pass Grades
Outstanding (O)
Acceptable (A)
Exceeds Expectations (E)
Fail Grades
Dreadful (D)
Poor (P)
Troll (T)
Harry James Potter has achieved:
Defence Against the Dark Arts O
A weight lifted off of Harry's chest as he read, and then re-read the parchment. He had done it. Not only had he passed his Defence O.W.L. early, but he had even managed an Outstanding.
"Well?" said Hermione, a touch impatiently.
Grinning broadly, Harry handed over the parchment.
"Oh, well done, Harry!" she said excitedly. "I figured you would pass, but to get an 'O'? That's…well…"
"Ha! You were going to say outstanding, weren't you?" laughed Ron, Hermione's withering look all the answer he needed.
"Congratulations," Neville offered genuinely.
"Thanks, everyone."
Harry glanced up at the staff table and saw Professor Dumbledore watching him, so he flashed the headmaster a winning smile. He knew his message had been received when Dumbledore subtly raised his goblet in salute, and Harry would swear he could see the man's eyes twinkling from all the way across the Great Hall.
Fortunately, Umbridge rarely spent her mornings with the rest of the staff, so Harry was able to approach Professor Dumbledore after breakfast and request a meeting. It turned out that the headmaster would not be available until after dinner, so Harry begrudgingly agreed to meet with him later before slogging his way through his Friday classes — which fortunately, did not include Defence Against the Dark Arts.
That evening, he found himself once again knocking on the door to the headmaster's office, idly wondering whether any other student in history had been there as often as he had.
"Enter," Dumbledore called to him, and Harry stepped inside to see that Professor McGonagall was there too.
"Good evening, Harry," said the headmaster.
"Good evening, sir, Professor McGonagall," he returned, greeting each of them in turn.
"Mr. Potter," she nodded back.
"I invited Professor McGonagall to join us, as I believe this evening's topic will interest her," explained Dumbledore. "I take it from the display I saw at breakfast that you are requesting to officially withdraw from Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
"Withdraw?" repeated Professor McGonagall, obviously confused. "I can certainly understand why Potter would want to get as far away from that…woman…as possible, but how can he withdraw without his O.W.L.?"
Harry grinned and fished the parchment out of his robe pocket before handing it to his head of house. Professor McGonagall accepted the parchment somewhat suspiciously, only for her eyes widen in astonishment as she read his results.
"I see. Congratulations, Potter," she said, handing the parchment to Dumbledore. "I take it this was your doing, Albus?"
"I merely facilitated the arrangements," Dumbledore replied proudly. "Harry achieved his result all on his own, and with very little time to prepare."
"The…ahem…High Inquisitor is unlikely to take this news well," McGonagall pointed out.
"That much is certain," agreed Dumbledore. "However, there is little she can do about it — the rules regarding these matters are quite clear. I have also been informed that our esteemed Minister has been extraordinarily busy trying to quash any investigation into the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, and thus is unlikely to personally intervene."
"Really?" asked Harry.
"Oh yes, Amos Diggory's letter set off something of a firestorm this week," he explained. "The calls for an investigation are growing increasingly louder, and Cornelius is far too busy dealing with that to bother with who is or is not attending his undersecretary's Defence lessons."
Detecting an opportunity to get Dumbledore's opinion on his plan, Harry asked, "Hypothetically speaking…what do you think would happen if I were to have an article published explaining what really happened that night?"
"I would ask how you intended to accomplish such a thing from inside Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall asked pointedly.
"Just asking hypothetically, Professor," he replied with a wry grin. "Sir?"
"I would suspect that such an article would generate quite the uproar," considered Dumbledore, barely disguising the amusement in his voice. "While I cannot condone the breaking of any school rules in pursuit of such a thing, a strong enough reaction would almost certainly undermine Cornelius's efforts to obscure the truth."
"Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind — just in case an opportunity presents itself, of course."
"Of course," replied Dumbledore, with a short bow of the head.
Professor McGonagall obviously did not agree with the headmaster's tacit approval of Harry's plan, though she kept her opinion to herself. Instead, she attempted to steer the subject back towards his academics.
"Well, Potter, you are cleared to withdraw from Defence Against the Dark Arts. However, I expect you to resume the class during your N.E.W.T. years — assuming, of course, that we have a new teacher by then."
"I can agree to that," replied Harry, "but that does bring us to the other reason I wanted to speak with you." Both professors looked back at him expectantly. "When I had detention with Professor Umbridge, she made me write lines with a special quill," he continued. "Whatever I wrote got scratched into the top of my hand as if I'd been cut by a knife, and the words on the parchment were written in my own blood, instead of ink."
"She did what?" thundered McGonagall.
"Can you describe the quill?" Dumbledore enquired calmly, although a slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed his true emotions.
"Just that it was all black, and it was longer and thinner than a normal quill."
"Albus, have you ever heard of such a thing?" asked McGonagall.
"I cannot say that I have," the headmaster replied. "What Harry described would almost certainly be classified by the Ministry as a Dark magical artefact, and the idea of using such a thing to harm children is highly disturbing."
"She said that Educational Decree number whatever gave her the authority to use it for punishments," added Harry.
"It most certainly does not," denied Dumbledore. "The latest Decree — number twenty-four, if you were curious — does grant the High Inquisitor extraordinary latitude when it comes to school discipline. However, the Decree does not grant her leeway to break other laws whilst punishing students."
"Potter leaving her class is clearly the right decision, but what are we going to do?" asked McGonagall. "We cannot allow her to do this to any more students!"
"No, we certainly cannot," agreed Dumbledore. "I am, however, concerned that attempting to take direct action will only make matters worse. I suggest that I — subtly, of course — have a conversation with Professor Umbridge explaining that corporal punishment is forbidden at Hogwarts, as is storing Dark artefacts on school grounds."
"And do you honestly believe she will actually listen to you?" McGonagall enquired sceptically.
"I think you will find I can be quite persuasive, when the situation calls for it," replied Dumbledore.
The words themselves were fairly innocuous, but there was something in the headmaster's voice that caused a shiver down Harry's spine. The professor's usual demeanour was so gentle and kind that it was sometimes easy to forget that he was one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
"As headmaster, there are also some spells I am permitted to use in order to monitor the safety and well-being of students," continued Dumbledore. "I do not believe she will attempt to use that quill again, but if she does, I will be alerted immediately."
"I'd prefer to just chuck her in Azkaban, but I guess it's better than nothing," muttered Harry.
"Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Harry," said Dumbledore. "And once again, congratulations on your O.W.L. You may return to your common room."
With that, Harry wished both professors a pleasant evening and took his leave. He really hoped that Dumbledore was able to get Umbridge under control, for the sake of the other students. If nothing else, he didn't plan on ever having to deal with her again.
oOoOoOo
At ten minutes to nine the next morning, Harry and Hermione were making their way through the castle on their way to rendezvous with the two younger Ravenclaws. Dumbledore's comments the previous evening had Harry convinced that he was doing the right thing, even if Hermione wasn't completely on board with every aspect of his plan.
"Are you sure bringing Astoria is a good idea?"
"Probably not," conceded Harry. "It'd be a lot easier if I just went by myself, but apparently, I'm the only one who thinks so. Besides, if I'm already bringing you and Luna, one more shouldn't make much difference. Plus, she knows my solicitor and her father's on the Wizengamot, so it might be good to have her there."
"Mm-hmm, is that really it, or do you just want another excuse to spend time with her?"
Harry remained silent.
"You really like her, don't you?"
"Yeah, I really do," he admitted, "but even before that, I've always seemed to have a hard time saying no to her."
"Well, I suppose you're not the first boy to turn into a complete pushover for a pretty girl."
"That's not it," he argued, but Hermione just stared back at him sceptically. "All right, that's not entirely it. She just has a way of putting things that make sense to me, and somehow, I always wind up agreeing," he attempted to explain, purposely ignoring the fact that he hadn't put up the slightest argument about her coming to Hogsmeade with them.
"She does seem to understand you quite well, considering you've only known each other for two months," Hermione replied thoughtfully.
"We had a lot of time to get to know each other while I was hiding out in their cabin," shrugged Harry. "She and Daphne were pretty much the only people I spoke to for close to two weeks."
"Aha, so you do know her sister."
"Yeah…she's all right, too, but you have to keep that quiet. Things could get difficult for her in Slytherin if people thought she was friendly with me."
"It's a shame, really," sighed Hermione. "The whole House rivalry thing is completely ridiculous."
"I agree, but there's more to it than that," he went on. "There are a lot of Slytherins with Death Eaters for parents, so being associated with me could actually affect her safety."
"And the same logic doesn't apply to Astoria?"
"You try telling her that," snorted Harry. "Merlin knows I've tried, but she can be a bit stubborn."
"I knew I liked her," replied Hermione, nudging Harry with her shoulder.
By the time they arrived at the one-eyed witch, Astoria and Luna were already waiting for them in the small alcove across from the statue.
"Good morning," said Harry, addressing them both.
"Good morning."
"Hello, Harry Potter."
"All right, we probably shouldn't linger," Harry said quietly, while Hermione was greeting the other girls. "I'll open the passageway, and then we'll all go down one at a time. You enter through a hole in the one-eyed witch's hump, and then slide down until you reach the tunnel. Whoever goes first, just wait for us at the bottom."
"We have to slide down?" questioned Astoria, looking down ruefully at her purple mohair cloak.
Harry grimaced slightly and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess I probably should've warned you," he replied apologetically. "It's only for a couple seconds, though."
Astoria just waved him off. "Oh, it's not a problem. It's my fault, really — I'm tagging along with Harry Potter, so I should've known to dress for an adventure," she said teasingly.
"You don't know how right you are," said Hermione, chuckling slightly.
"I'm not dressed for an adventure either; should we all go back and change clothes?" asked Luna.
"Sorry Luna, but we really don't have time," apologised Harry, as he pulled out the Marauder's Map. "Okay — remember, one at a time. Hermione, you're going first."
After confirming they were alone, Harry walked across the corridor and whispered, "Dissendium," while tapping the statue with his wand. At once, the hump on the witch's back opened up to reveal a small hole, barely wide enough to admit one person. He waved Hermione over and helped her climb into the hole, then repeated the process with Luna and Astoria.
Once all the girls were down, Harry hoisted himself up and slid into the hole feet-first. The stone slide was a bit longer than Harry remembered, but a short while later all four of them were standing at the beginning of the earthy passageway that led to Hogsmeade.
"That was fun," announced Luna, just as Harry joined the others in lighting the tip of his wand.
"Yeah, it's not bad," agreed Harry, squinting slightly as he peered down the passageway. "Well, it's a pretty long walk, so we should probably get going."
Slowly but surely, they started making their way through the narrow tunnel — Harry and Astoria up front, with Hermione and Luna trailing close behind.
"So, where does the tunnel let out?" Astoria asked after a few minutes.
"Honeydukes cellar."
"I just thought of something," said Hermione. "It isn't a Hogsmeade weekend — won't it be hard to get in and out of Honeydukes without being noticed?"
Harry frowned to himself.
"Damn, you're right. I'll just go up under my Invisibility Cloak first, and we'll figure it out from there."
"Terrific…" Hermione muttered under her breath, while Astoria stifled a giggle.
"Luna was right, this is fun," whispered Astoria, reaching out for Harry's hand.
Surprised, but not at all displeased, Harry entwined his fingers with hers and they continued along the passageway hand in hand. Eventually, the passage began to slowly climb upwards until they came to a worn stone staircase. At somewhere around three hundred steps, the stairs were easily everyone's least favourite part of the walk, but they finally did reach the wooden trapdoor that marked the end of their journey.
Motioning for quiet, Harry listened carefully for any signs of life. When he couldn't hear anyone stirring above, he slowly pushed open the trapdoor and peeked his head out for a moment before climbing up, signalling for the girls to follow. The cellar was much the same as it was the last time Harry saw it — stocked with boxes and crates covering the dusty, wooden floor.
As quietly as they could, they made their way across the room to the wooden staircase that led up to the front of the store. Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak and cracked open the door at the top of the stairs, waited a few moments, and then opened it wide enough to stick his head out. The door opened up right behind the main counter, which was fortunately unmanned at the moment. He could hear a few people milling about, but Honeydukes was nowhere near as busy as it was when the village was filled with Hogwarts students.
"Okay, we're going to do this one at a time again," Harry whispered to the others. "One of you get under here with me. We'll sneak across, and then I'll come back for the others."
Astoria volunteered to go first and stepped under the Cloak with Harry, her breath catching for a moment as she felt his arm wrap around her waist to pull her closer. They slipped through the door and out from behind the counter, just in time to avoid the rather portly, bald proprietor as he came around the corner.
"What do we do?" whispered Astoria, after they safely reached the front of the store.
"We need a distraction…"
Without saying a word, Astoria extracted herself from underneath the Cloak and approached the counter. Still invisible, Harry swore under his breath and hurried along after her.
"Excuse me, sir."
"Why hello," the man said warmly. "I wasn't expecting to see any students today. How may I help you?"
"I'm looking for a gift," she replied convincingly. "I remembered seeing these large sampler boxes the last time I was here, but I don't remember where they are. Could you please show me?"
"Of course, miss, right this way," he replied, and then led her back towards the far corner of the store.
Harry raced behind the counter and opened the door. "Let's go — quickly!" he hissed, and both Hermione and Luna hurried through the door and towards the entrance, the latter looking like she was having the time of her life. Once they were outside, Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak and stood between the others.
"Where's Astoria?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"Knowing her, she's actually buying chocolate," he replied, and sure enough, Astoria exited the store a few minutes later with a shopping bag dangling from her hand.
"Nice work," grinned Harry.
"Why, thank you," she replied with a small curtsy, before moving to his side and looping her arm through his. "Shall we?"
"Will you escort me too, Harry?" Luna asked with a hopeful look.
"Sure, Luna."
Harry offered Luna his other arm, which she enthusiastically accepted, making Astoria giggle.
"Really…" Hermione muttered to herself, rolling her eyes as she stepped in front of the other three and led the way to the Three Broomsticks.
The popular inn was relatively empty, mainly owing to their arrival during the lull between breakfast and lunch. Once inside, Madam Rosmerta directed them up the stairs to the private room Mr. Cartwright had reserved, also confirming they were welcome to use it for as long as they liked.
Harry opened the door to find the solicitor already inside waiting. The room itself was nicer than he'd expected. It was more like someone's living room, complete with its own cozy fireplace and furnished with a loveseat and a few comfy armchairs, surrounding an old wooden coffee table. Off to the side, Harry noticed a small dining table, and even an old upright piano shoved up against the wall.
"Mr. Potter, glad you could make it," said Mr. Cartwright, as he stood to shake Harry's hand. "I was not aware you were bringing a delegation. Miss Greengrass, it's nice to see you again," he added, before turning to the other two girls. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met…"
"Oh, sorry. Mr. Cartwright, these are my friends Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger," said Harry, making the proper introductions. "Luna, Hermione, this is Reginald Cartwright — the solicitor who helped me out over the summer."
Mr. Cartwright shook each of their hands in turn. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, of course," he said. Turning to Harry, he asked, "Do they have information to provide on the night in question?"
Harry shook his head. "No, they're here for another meeting I'm having after yours," he explained. "I hope you don't mind if they stay."
"That is your decision, Mr. Potter, but I must ask; is this second meeting something I should know about, as your solicitor?"
"Probably, now that you mention it," replied Harry. "Rita Skeeter's going to interview me about the night Voldemort returned, and we're going to have it published in The Quibbler. Luna's father is the editor."
Whatever the solicitor was expecting Harry to say, that certainly wasn't it. "Well, that will certainly set the cat among the pixies," he eventually responded. "Do you not think it wiser to wait until the investigation is concluded?"
"From what I hear, if I don't do this then there may not be an investigation," Harry replied gravely. "Apparently, Fudge has been working all week to stop it from happening."
"Why would he do that, I wonder?" mused Mr. Cartwright.
"Because I'm telling the truth!" Harry said emphatically. "Fudge may be in denial, but his good friend Lucius Malfoy knows what really happened, and he definitely doesn't want the truth getting out."
"Malfoy, eh?" muttered Mr. Cartwright, as he absently stroked his moustache. "Why don't we start from the beginning," he said, sitting down in one of the armchairs and inviting the others to do the same. "I've already advised Madam Bones that you are willing to fully cooperate, which includes providing Pensieve memories of the night in question, if requested."
"That's fine," replied Harry, recalling that he'd previously agreed to doing so.
The solicitor went into his briefcase and took out a scroll of parchment and the Dicta-quill he had used to take notes during their first meeting.
"Now, I know you already shared much of the story with me," he started, "but I have some additional questions for you, many of them regarding your relationship with Cedric Diggory and the events leading to his death. Seeing Harry grimace in response, he explained, "While I am sure this is an uncomfortable topic, having your statement on record will allow me to work directly with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without needing to drag you out of school. Although, you may very well be asked to come in at some point," he added after a moment's thought.
Harry nodded resignedly, and then spent the next thirty minutes answering Mr. Cartwright's questions. When he got to the part where he and Cedric grabbed the cup together, Astoria — who had claimed the spot next to Harry on the loveseat — held his hand and leaned comfortingly into his side. Having never heard the full story, Hermione also found herself struggling, both to contain her own emotions and to stop herself from asking her own questions. Even Luna's demeanour was uncharacteristically sober.
Finally, the interview was concluded, and Mr. Cartwright went over their next steps.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter, I believe I have everything I need," said the solicitor, as he reviewed his notes from their conversation. "I will reach out to Madam Bones again this afternoon. I shall also attempt to get a statement into the Prophet denying the allegations and making it clear that you welcome further investigation into that night."
"Do you think it'll work?"
"I have my own contacts, but if the Minister is personally involved, as you say, then I can make no guarantees," he conceded. "Though it will be interesting to see if your upcoming interview will create enough public pressure for him to change his tune."
"I guess we'll see."
"Indeed, we shall," replied Mr. Cartwright. "Now, I must be running, or else I'll be late for my next appointment. I will be in touch as needed; be sure to owl me if there are any significant new developments."
"I will," agreed Harry. "Thanks again."
"I'm sorry you had to relive that all over again," whispered Astoria, once Mr. Cartwright took his leave.
"It's fine," replied Harry, standing up and stretching. "It actually gets a little easier each time, which is good, because I have a feeling Rita's going to want all the details."
"Harry, I…" Hermione started to speak, but then she hesitated for a moment and seemed to change her mind about something. "I'm going to go downstairs and wait for Rita," she said quickly, and then ran over and gave Harry a quick hug before leaving the room.
She returned with Rita Skeeter only a few minutes later. Harry noted that the ex-reporter didn't appear nearly as vivacious as she had the last time he saw her — likely a result of her lack of recent employment. Her blonde hair fell limp and lifeless around her face, her clothing choices were more subdued than usual, and there were a few imitation jewels missing from her signature winged glasses.
"Harry!" exclaimed Rita, the moment she saw him. "I've been positively dying to know your reaction to Amos Diggory's letter. Were you angry? Upset? Scared that you may finally have to face the consequences?"
"Of course, he was upset," Hermione said testily. "Somebody lied to Mr. Diggory specifically to hurt Harry."
"That's a wild accusation — do you have any proof?" Rita replied condescendingly, although not without a touch of curiosity.
"You mean besides the one who wrote to him admitting it to my face?" Harry said flatly.
"How intriguing," Rita replied silkily, subtly opening up her crocodile-skin handbag. "I'd love to hear more…And who is this charming young lady at your side? A girlfriend, perhaps? How does she feel about all the rumours flying around about you?"
"Who she is and what she is to Harry is absolutely none of your business," Hermione snapped irritably. "Now, do you want to listen to our offer or not?"
"Fine," hissed Rita, snapping her bag shut again. "Let's hear it, then, Miss Prissypants, and it better be worth my time."
Hermione made a face like she was tasting something unpleasant. "We are offering to let you go back to writing while still promising to keep your secret," she explained, as politely as she could manage.
"Is that so?" asked Rita, suddenly intrigued. "And what exactly is the price of your…generosity?"
"You're going to interview me," Harry informed her. "I'm going to give you the full truth about what happened the night Voldemort returned."
Rita jumped at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "So, you're still sticking to that cock-and-bull story Dumbledore's been peddling?" she scoffed. "Even if I did agree, there's zero chance the Prophet would ever print it — nobody wants to read a story like that."
"Come off it, if the Prophet won't print it, it's only because Fudge won't let them," Harry retorted, before Hermione could chime in. "That's why your article will be published in The Quibbler. Luna's father is the editor," he said, gesturing to the girl in question.
Rita actually laughed out loud. "The Quibbler?" she cackled. "You think people will believe your story if they read it in The Quibbler? Come now, Harry, pull the other one!"
"Some won't, but with your name lending it 'credibility', more people might be inclined to believe it," Hermione explained shortly.
"That's the deal, Rita," Harry continued. "I'll give you the full truth, including how Cedric died, what Voldemort looks like now, the identities of the supposedly innocent Death Eaters who were there that night…"
Rita perked up slightly at that last bit, sensing a juicy story.
"All you have to do is write the article, and then you'll be free to go back to writing without having to worry about being shipped off to Azkaban," concluded Hermione, pointedly reminding Rita that they held all the cards at that moment.
"Trust me, Rita. Whether they believe it or not, everybody is going to want to read your article once word gets out. I do have one other condition, though," Harry continued seriously. "You can't go back to writing lies about me." Cutting Rita off before she could protest, he continued, "I'm not saying you can't report on the things I do — just no more lies. In exchange, I'll even tell you everything I know about the very real, and very highly placed Ministry official who wrote the anonymous letter to Mr. Diggory."
"It doesn't seem like I have much of a choice," grumbled Rita. "I don't suppose there will be any monetary compensation, will there?"
"No, I don't think Daddy pays people to write for the magazine," Luna replied dreamily. "Most people just do it because it's an honour, and to see their names in print, of course."
"Lovely…" she muttered.
"Don't worry, I have a feeling the offers will be rolling in once this gets published," said Harry, reclaiming his spot on the loveseat.
"Fine, but this is going to take a while, so somebody needs to order some food — and you're buying," demanded Rita, but Harry had no problem allowing her that small victory.
For the next several hours, Harry recounted everything he could remember, including what he'd shared with Mr. Cartwright about his interactions with Cedric over the course of the year. Rita, who for all her faults was a very capable journalist, relentlessly poked and prodded at his story, teasing out even the tiniest of details that Harry never would have thought to include.
Hermione had to fight back tears on several occasions as he told his tale. Seeing that made Harry feel slightly guilty for not confiding in his friends sooner, even if his reticence was merely born out of his own fear of reliving those moments. Astoria mostly remained stoic, in part because she was already familiar with what happened, having seen the memory herself, but also because she didn't want to give Rita any more material by appearing too close to Harry.
When it was all over, Rita downed the rest of her firewhisky in one gulp and then left the room, after first promising Luna she'd be sending along the completed article within the next few days. As soon as she was gone, Hermione stood and wrapped Harry in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed. "I knew it was bad, but that was so much worse than I imagined. You're so good at dealing with things, sometimes it's easy to forget how much you've actually been through."
"It's okay, Hermione," he replied, patting her on the back. "We should probably get going, though. We've been away from the castle for a long time."
"You're right," she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
The four of them marched back downstairs, only briefly stopping at the bar to thank Madam Rosmerta before making their way back to Honeydukes. On their way, they discussed their strategy for getting back down into the cellar, only to find out once they'd arrived that they were about to experience a sudden change of plans.
"They're closed?" Hermione asked weakly, reading the sign hanging in the front window.
"It's still early! Why would they be closed?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Maybe they close early when they don't have a lot of customers?" suggested Astoria. "It's not as if the village is particularly busy today."
"What are we going to do?" asked Hermione insistently.
Luna, on the other hand, looked positively giddy. "Ooh, are we about to have another adventure?" she asked excitedly.
"Something like that," muttered Harry. "I know another way back to Hogwarts, but it's a bit rougher than the Honeydukes tunnel."
"Harry, surely you don't mean…"
"Hermione, if you have another suggestion, I'm all ears."
She stood there thinking for a moment, finally huffing in frustration when she couldn't come up with anything. "Fine, we'll do it your way," she agreed reluctantly.
"Where are we going?" asked Astoria.
"The Shrieking Shack."
Astoria raised her eyebrows in surprise, while Luna clapped happily.
"I've always wanted to see the inside," gushed Luna. "The ghosts who live there are supposed to be really violent — I only wish I brought my camera."
"It's not actually haunted, you know," replied Harry, launching into an explanation about Professor Lupin, and how the shack was where he would safely undergo his monthly transformations.
"So that's the passage you discovered when all that happened with your godfather?" asked Astoria, once again taking hold of Harry's arm.
"That's the one," he confirmed.
They made their way through the village until they reached the outskirts near the Shrieking Shack. The decrepit building stood by its lonesome, separated from the rest of Hogsmeade by a short path leading from a gap in the rickety old fence.
"All right, follow me," said Harry, as he started up the path. "First thing we need to do is figure out how to get inside."
"I thought you'd been here before?" remarked Astoria, sounding puzzled.
"I have, but we didn't come in this way."
"It looks like all the windows are boarded up," observed Hermione, only to be proven correct less than a minute later.
Harry walked the entire perimeter, and not only were the windows firmly boarded shut, but there didn't appear to be a single functioning door. The only good news was that Harry couldn't detect any sign of magical protections around the building.
"Okay, so what now?" asked Hermione.
Harry stood there examining the back wall of the shack and noticed a section that appeared slightly more rotted that the rest. Taking out his wand, he said, "Hermione, cast a shield in front of yourself and the other girls."
"What? Why?"
"I think I found our way in," he replied, taking aim at the darkest section of the shack's wooden exterior.
Hermione's eyes widened in recognition. "Protego!" she said hastily, moments before Harry blasted a wide hole into the side of the Shrieking Shack with a Reductor Curse, covering himself in dust and debris in the process.
"I think I might've overdone it a bit," remarked Harry, as he dusted himself off.
"You think?" said Astoria, more amused than anything.
"Hey, at least we're in," he grinned, ducking into the hole.
Harry ignited the tip of his wand and took a quick look around. The place looked exactly the same as he remembered, all the way down to the peeling wallpaper, the broken furniture, and the claw marks on the walls.
"It's a little disappointing, really," Luna commented from behind. "Even though you said it wasn't haunted, I was hoping we might at least find an Umgubular Slashkilter."
"I'm not sure what that is, but it doesn't sound like anything I'd want to meet," responded Harry.
"Hmm…you may be right. They can be extremely dangerous, especially if you surprise them," Luna replied thoughtfully.
Hermione stepped up next to Harry. "The tunnel was just through here, wasn't it?" she said, pointing to a room just past the staircase.
"I think so," he replied.
They entered the room, and sure enough, there was a narrow opening in the far side of the floor. Harry shone his wandlight down into the hole, allowing them a glimpse of the tunnel before it sloped away from them and down into the darkness.
"Fair warning, this tunnel isn't as big or as clean as the other one," he said apologetically, before slipping into the passageway.
Being the tallest, Harry had to walk while doubled over at the waist to avoid bumping his head on the low ceiling. The girls followed after, each of them crouched down to varying degrees, making their way through the earthen passageway with surprisingly few complaints. Once they finally reached the end, Harry instructed the others to wait for him while he cleared the way.
He hoisted himself up through the hole and scrambled to his feet, leaping to the side just in time to avoid being struck by one of the whip-like branches of the Whomping Willow.
"Come on, at least give me a second," he complained, ducking as a second branch took aim at his head.
Spotting the knot on the trunk that they had first seen Crookshanks use to calm the Willow, Harry dove forward and slapped it with his hand. At once, the tree ceased its assault and straightened itself up, causing Harry to sigh in relief. He called down to the others to let them know it was safe, and then gave each of them a hand up as they scrambled out of the tunnel.
"I had no idea there was a secret passage under the Whomping Willow," said Luna, as Harry swiftly led them out of range of the overly aggressive tree.
"Hopefully that's the last time we'll need to use it," grumbled Hermione. "Come on, let's get back to the castle," she continued, taking the lead and muttering something about a hot bath while Luna skipped along after her.
Astoria looked down at her cloak, which was now covered in dirt. "Yep, definitely should've worn something a bit more rugged," she said disappointedly.
"Sorry about that," Harry replied guiltily, but fortunately, Astoria didn't seem too put out by it.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me," she teased.
Struck by a sudden wave of courage, he responded, "How about dinner tonight?"
Astoria looked up at him sharply, seemingly caught off-guard by the question.
"You mean…"
"Just us — not in the Great Hall," he clarified.
Part of him couldn't believe he had actually done it. The invitation had simply fallen from his lips without thinking, and what was previously unspoken between them suddenly came bursting out into the open.
"So…like a date?" she asked, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Yeah, like a date — only this time, it'll be on purpose and everything."
Astoria laughed. "I'd love to," she replied happily. "Where…"
"The Room of Requirement," he said, the answer coming to him immediately. "We can meet there at seven — anything special you'd like to eat?"
"No, you can surprise me."
"You're even braver than I thought," laughed Harry. "All right then, mystery meal at seven it is."
"Can't wait," she replied, and they fell into step behind the others.