The Time of Destiny

Chapter 21 - The Wizard's Apprentice

Harry and Dumbledore worked together late into the night on a wide variety of new spells, and began again early in the morning the next day. After several hours of effort, Dumbledore stretched and said, "I have something to show you. I think the break will be good for both of us. Come with me." He moved to the shelves where the Sorting Hat sat, next to the display case holding Godric Gryffindor's sword. "There's something you may have suspected that you and I have not discussed, Harry. It's time I told you who you are."

"Sorry?" Harry said, confused.

"After your adventure in the Chamber of Secrets," he said, taking the beautiful sword out of the case, "I told you only a true Gryffindor could pull this sword out of the hat. I think you suspected then that you might be the Heir of Gryffindor, but I wasn't ready to lay that burden on your young shoulders then. But you're nearly a grown man now, and it's time."

Harry frowned, trying to follow what his headmaster was saying. "Time. . .for what?"

"Harry, you are the Heir of Gryffindor. That's why the sword came to you."

"Erm. . .OK. What, exactly, does that mean? Why is it a burden for me?"

"As the Heir of Gryffindor, you have certain responsibilities. It's easier to show you than to tell you. Put on the Sorting Hat," Dumbledore said, lifting the ancient hat from the shelf and handing it to his student.

Harry looked at Dumbledore sceptically, but put the hat on his head. "Now what?"

"It's time to tell Harry the secret," Dumbledore said.

"And about time!" the hat grumbled. "I wondered why you waited so long!"

"Let's not be cheeky. Just tell Harry the secret, all right?" the old wizard said patiently.

"What secret?" Harry said uneasily.

"The hat is the Secret Keeper for the Heirs of Gryffindor. It will tell you the secret you need to know. Pay attention," Dumbledore instructed.

"Potter?" the hat said. "Are you paying attention?"

"Uh. . .yeah?" Harry replied.

"Good, because I can only say this once. You are the next Heir of Gryffindor. Take his sword and touch the top of the right-hand edge of Gryffindor's portrait - your right hand, not his - with the tip of the sword, and let the blade also touch the wall. Draw the sword down the length of the frame edge with the tip touching the wall, then replace the sword in its case. The rest you should be able to sort out yourself." With that, the Sorting Hat's ripped seam closed and it spoke no more.

"Did you understand what it said?" Dumbledore asked, holding out the sword, hilt first.

"I think so," Harry said uncertainly. He took the sword in his hand and felt an odd sensation in his arm, as if the blade was singing to him somehow.

"Do you feel it?" Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes intense.

"I feel something. . . ."

"The Heir of Gryffindor is told the secret when he's seventeen," Dumbledore said. "Until then, this sword feels like any other sword to him or anyone else who touches it. When the Heir is seventeen, he is a fairly mature wizard. At that point, the sword will begin to sing to him. This is one of the signs that young man is ready to take his place as Heir of Gryffindor."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"Do what the Sorting Hat told you to do, and you'll begin to understand," Dumbledore said mysteriously. He took the hat off Harry's head and replaced it on the shelf, then watched the young man expectantly.

Harry looked at his headmaster nervously, then moved to the nearby portrait of Godric Gryffindor. He looked into the man's eyes for a long moment, surprised to see him looking back, an expectant twinkle in his eye. Gryffindor's portrait had always been quiet when Harry was around, never speaking and rarely even moving, unlike the other portraits of old headmasters. At that moment, Harry realized that every time he'd been in Dumbledore's office and noticed Gryffindor's portrait, the man had been quietly watching him, a pensive expression on his face. Now Gryffindor actually smiled at him, then nodded toward the side of the frame Harry was supposed to be touching with the sword, apparently wanting Harry to get on with it. Harry tore his eyes away from his ancestor, then touched the tip of the blade to the top right corner of the frame, the tip barely touching the wall. Ever so carefully, he slid it down the length of the frame. He was shocked to see an opening appear in the path of the sword. Soon an entire section of wall moved aside silently.

"Whoa! What's that?" he said, his eyes wide. He could see a small entryway with torches on either side of the door, and an opening that seemed to disappear into darkness.

"This, Harry, is part of your inheritance as Heir of Gryffindor. This is Gryffindor's secret chamber. As Slytherin had a Chamber of Secrets, Gryffindor had a Chamber of Knowledge. Come with me," Dumbledore said, leading the way. When they were both inside the wall, Dumbledore pointed to a golden griffin medallion on the wall near the opening. "Touch that," he instructed.

When Harry did so, the door slid closed, and torches lit both in the entry room and in the distance past the opening, their flickering light casting dancing shadows on the walls. Harry turned toward the opening and was astonished to see that the floor fell away steeply. "Is that. . .?"

"A slide, yes," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "You and Gryffindor both share a wonderful sense of fun. I rather like that aspect of both of your personalities. Follow me after you hear me call up that I've landed, all right? It's a fast ride - I prefer to do it with my hands over my head. It's a soft landing, don't worry. Have fun!" With that, Dumbledore sat at the top of the slide and pushed off, shouting with glee as he disappeared around the first curve.

Harry heard his headmaster's voice growing fainter and fainter as he whooped happily on the way down. Finally, the joyful noises stopped and the old wizard called up, "Your turn!"

Harry swallowed hard and sat down cautiously at the top of the slide. The slide disappeared around a turn just a few feet ahead of his long legs, and was sharply curved as far as the eye could see. It was shaped like half of a big tube, so he doubted he'd have problems staying on it around its curves. He took a deep breath and shoved off, nervous at first, then quickly getting into the spirit of things and whooping with joy as he whooshed down the slide. When he came to the bottom, he was out of breath, but laughing. "What a ride!"

"Amazing, isn't it?"

"But how do we get back up?" Harry asked, looking at the slide. It was too slick to climb.

"When we're ready to return, you will touch this golden griffin in the wall. The slide will disappear and a lift will appear. You will step onto the lift, which is just a platform with a rail around it, grip the handle, and it will take you to the top so quickly, you'll be dizzy when you get there."

"Does it spiral up?"

"Oh, yes! That's half the fun, isn't it? Spinning around at such speeds?" Dumbledore said with an impish grin.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, looking up the slide. "How far down are we? Where are we?"

"We are deep in the bowels of the mountain on which Hogwarts is built," Dumbledore told him. "We're about one hundred feet underground here. Gryffindor built this chamber before the castle was built. He provided the site for the school, you see. This was his land. He built this chamber as a stronghold to protect his family. You'll see there are living quarters down here that are quite luxurious. Heirs of Gryffindor who become Hogwarts headmasters and have families often live down here. Their children can run and squeal to their heart's content without disturbing the school."

"Aren't they ever allowed outside?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Oh, of course they are! But this is a quiet place away from students and stress, as well as being safe from anyone who might try to attack the school. I stay down here from time to time myself. You'll see why in a moment. Follow me," he said, his eyes dancing as he led Harry away from the slide.

Harry was looking at the life-sized portraits on the walls, all of which were studying him with great interest. "Are these all the Heirs of Gryffindor?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said. "I often come down here to confer with them."

"Were they all headmasters of Hogwarts? Wouldn't their portraits be in your office?"

"No, not all of them were headmasters or even teachers. Many pursued other careers or interests," Dumbledore explained. "Here's Godric Gryffindor himself. You'll notice this is a different portrait than the one in my office."

"He looks a lot younger," Harry commented. "No offence," he told the portrait when Gryffindor frowned at him.

"None taken," Gryffindor said.

"You spoke! I've never heard you speak before!" Harry said, astonished.

"I didn't have anything to say before, Harry Potter," Gryffindor said with a roguish grin. "I want to welcome you to my Chamber of Knowledge."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said politely.

"If you ever have questions, please feel free to ask me or any of my heirs," Gryffindor said kindly.

"I will. Thank you."

Gryffindor turned to Dumbledore and smiled warmly. "He'll do. Carry on."

"Yes, I thought he'd do, as well," Dumbledore agreed, then led Harry further into the Chamber.

"I'll do what?" Harry said in confusion.

"You'll do very well as Heir of Gryffindor," Dumbledore explained.

"Exactly what does that mean?"

"You'll see," Dumbledore said mysteriously. "It's not a simple thing to explain."

"OK," Harry said uncertainly. As they walked, he smiled and nodded at the various portraits, all of whom responded with warmth to his greetings. Suddenly, Harry stopped, his jaw dropping in surprise. He gasped, then moved close to a portrait. "Is that. . .?"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling fondly at the boy. "That's your father."

Harry turned to his professor. "He was Heir of Gryffindor too?"

"Yes."

Harry turned to study his dad's portrait. It was like looking in a mirror that was just a little bit off - the eyes didn't match, and Harry was now a good bit taller than his father. "How old was he here?"

"I'm seventeen," the portrait answered saucily. "Who are you and why do you look like me?"

Harry gasped, then looked at Dumbledore. "How is this possible? He's talking with me, but he doesn't know me - I'm confused."

"When he was seventeen, he was dating your mother, not married to her," Dumbledore explained. "I'm afraid I never had the heart to tell him what happened. He's been quite happy thinking things were just as they were."

"He doesn't know?" Harry said, aghast.

"Hello! I'm right here!" James Potter said, waving his hands to get their attention and sounding exasperated.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, you are! Hi."

"Who are you?" James repeated.

"I'm your son, Harry."

"What?" James said, shocked.

"Harry, I'll leave you two to chat. I have some work to do over here," Dumbledore said, indicating a library just past James's portrait.

"OK," Harry said happily, pulling a chair away from the library table and sitting down in front of his father's portrait. "I'm your son, Dad. You married Lily Evans and had me a few years later."

"I married Lily?" the portrait said with delighted surprise. "Ah, that's wonderful! Are we brilliantly happy? Have you enjoyed your life with us?" He studied his son's face for a long moment. "You have her eyes," he said tenderly. "She has the most beautiful eyes. Wow. Lily and I have a son. Absolutely amazing!" He was quiet another moment, simply gazing at his son, then grinned and said, "How are the Marauders, anyway?"

Harry's face fell. "Erm. . .I have to tell you a lot of stuff, Dad," he began hesitantly. "You might want to sit down." He waited until James sat on the chair in his portrait, then began telling his father the story of his life. When he got to the point of Voldemort's attack, James was aghast.

"Peter betrayed us?" James leaped to his feet, outraged.

"Yes," Harry said, working hard to control his emotions. "You and Mum died when I was just over a year old. Voldemort killed you trying to kill me. That's how I got this scar," he said, pushing his fringe aside to reveal the now double zigzag scar on his forehead.

"I'm sorry," James said sadly. "And you - where did you live after that?"

"I grew up with the Dursleys," Harry said with disgust. "Mum's sister and her husband and their son Dudley."

"Petunia had a son? What's he like?"

"Like his dad. Did you know Uncle Vernon?"

"No, I don't think I met him before this portrait was painted. Are they nice then?"

"Erm. . .no," Harry said honestly. He didn't want to make his father unhappy, but he also didn't want to lie to him.

"Did they treat you badly?" James said, his face sorrowful.

"You could say that. They hate anything to do with magic," Harry said, his voice filled with tension.

"What's your full name?" James asked after a moment's thought. He seemed to want to get onto more pleasant topics.

"Harry James Potter," Harry said, smiling at the look of pride on his dad's face.

"You're named after me," James said, his eyes shining. "Lily did that, I'm sure of it."

"I don't know. But I've always liked my name," Harry said sincerely.

Just then, Dumbledore came back. "Time to move on, Harry," he said.

"But -" Harry began.

"Wait! How's Sirius? How's Remus?" James asked imploringly.

"It's a very long story, James. Harry will be back frequently now, and he can tell you more then. Telling the story is very hard on him, as I'm sure you can imagine. Please allow me to get on with the work we have to do today, and you and Harry can visit again soon. All right?" Dumbledore said kindly.

"OK," James said, sagging into his chair, apparently exhausted by all he'd learned in such a short time. "You will tell me the rest, won't you, Harry?"

"Of course! I'll come and talk with you often. I don't remember the sound of your voice, so this is a real treat for me," Harry said sincerely.

James smiled. "All right, then. Off with you!"

Harry grinned and turned back to his headmaster. "Now what?"

"Since we're here, let's take care of this one little detail," Dumbledore said. He opened a door in the wall and pulled out a huge picture frame, leaning it against the wall next to James's portrait. Using his wand, he levitated the frame up to hanging height, then attached it to the wall with a Permanent Sticking Charm. "Stand in front of that, Harry," he instructed.

"Why?"

"It's for your portrait," Dumbledore explained. "Oh, go look in the mirror over there and make sure you look the way you want to. This portrait will be here forever. You should be happy with how you appear in it," he said with a smile.

Harry moved to the mirror on the opposite wall and worked on his hair, made sure his glasses were clean and his robes relatively tidy. "OK, I guess I'm ready," he said with a nervous grin. "How do we do this?"

"Stand in front of the frame. I'll cast a spell and while I'm casting it, you will need to talk to me about anything at all. The portrait needs to get a sample of your expressions, your voice, your vocal inflections, the way you speak, your body language, all of that, so it will be a true portrait."

"I thought artists did this kind of portrait," Harry said as Dumbledore began the spell.

"Most of the paintings in the castle are by artists, that's true," Dumbledore replied, "but these were all done this way. This place is secret. No artist could be allowed down here unless he was the Heir, so this spell was developed to create the portraits without the need for the artist. I suppose it might have been an early form of photography."

"Where's your portrait?" Harry said, trying to think of things to say as Dumbledore continued to wave his wand.

"Around the corner here. Keep talking. Talk about anything."

"Can I talk to my dad while you're doing this?"

"Of course. Go ahead."

"Dad, Remus is a professor here," Harry told James. "He put some memories in a Pensieve so I could see you and Mum." He had to stop himself before he added, "and Sirius." He hadn't told him about Sirius's imprisonment or death yet. "I saw you playing Quidditch. You were brilliant! I play Seeker on the Gryffindor team."

"That's wonderful!" James said. "Are you good?"

"Pretty good," Harry admitted.

Dumbledore chuckled. "He's being modest, James," he said. "Harry is the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in the last century. He's being scouted by professional Quidditch teams."

"You are?" James said excitedly. "Wow, that's fantastic! What teams?"

Harry and James talked about Quidditch quite happily while Dumbledore worked on the charm.

"Harry, why don't you tell him a bit about Ginny?" Dumbledore suggested. "I'm sure he'd like to hear about her."

"Ginny?" James said, a teasing light in his eyes. "Is she your lady love?"

"Yeah, actually, she is," Harry replied. He began to tell his father about her, blushing a bit at first, then warming to his topic as his father proved to be a good and enthusiastic listener.

"A redhead, eh? It must run in our family to fall in love with redheads," James said when Harry slowed down.

"Maybe so," Harry agreed, grinning happily. Sharing such a conversation with his father was a treat he'd never expected to have.

"All done," Dumbledore said at last. "James, I'm going to have to take Harry off to do some work now. You'll have the portrait of him to chat with while we're gone."

"OK," James said, turning to look toward Harry's portrait.

"Professor," Harry said quietly. "Can my portrait move between frames like the paintings upstairs?"

"Yes, Harry, it can," Dumbledore said, understanding at once.

The portrait of Harry had been listening to their conversation, looking from Harry to Dumbledore as if watching a tennis tournament. When Dumbledore finished speaking, the portrait of Harry turned to face the side of his frame closest to James's frame.

"How do I do this?" the portrait of Harry asked.

"Just start walking toward the side of the frame," Dumbledore told him.

A moment later, Harry and James were both in James's frame. "Dad?" Harry's portrait said hesitantly.

"Harry," James said, and then they were in each other's arms, hugging like the long-lost family they were.

The real Harry stood with tears in his eyes. "I never thought I'd be jealous of a picture," he murmured when he noticed Dumbledore watching him. James and Harry were still embracing, murmuring quietly to each other. James only came up to Harry's chin, so Harry had bent over and enveloped his father in his long arms.

Dumbledore rubbed the boy's back sympathetically. "I didn't bring you down here to add to your depression. I'm sorry."

"No!" Harry replied. "No, it doesn't make me depressed! Well, in a way, but. . .I can talk to him now! I can hear stories about him and Sirius and Remus, we can talk about Quidditch, and Mum, and . . .it's wonderful, Professor! Not depressing!"

"All right, then, lad. But I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"James's portrait, like some other things down here, have the same kind of danger as the Mirror of Erised. You can lose yourself in them. I don't want that to happen to you. Promise me you'll be careful to limit your time with your father's portrait and the other things I'm going to show you. All right?"

Harry took a deep breath. This was a serious restriction, but he could understand the reasoning behind it. "All right."

"Wonderful. I have so much to show you! Come along," Dumbledore said, leading Harry around the corner.

"Whoa! Hermione would love to see this!" Harry breathed. Before him rose rank after rank of books in a tremendous room. Shelves of books ringed the walls and more shelves were lined up neatly side by side through the centre of the room. Work tables were scattered around the huge room. Comfortable library chairs ringed the tables. Cushy armchairs and ottomans were scattered around the room, as well. "It's a whole library! Are these the same books as the ones in the school library?"

"No. Many of these books are one of a kind. They go all the way back to Merlin's time, actually. These are the books of the Heirs of Gryffindor, ones they've collected for reference as well as some they've written. Godric Gryffindor has a tremendous collection. And the ones Merlin wrote are, as you might imagine, quite entertaining." He smiled at the thought, then grew serious when he saw the question in Harry's eyes. "Your father didn't live long enough to add much to the collection, Harry. There are a few papers of his, that's all. He died before he really assumed the mantle of the Heir." He saw the disappointment in the boy's eyes.

"What happens if the Heir dies before the new Heir is seventeen?" Harry asked suddenly. "I mean, if you'd already been gone, and my dad died, how would I have known?"

"That's an excellent question, Harry. In each case, the Heir designates someone else of the bloodline as their 'second,' I suppose you would say. So in our case, Minerva McGonagall, who is a cousin of mine, would be the one to tell you about your being the Heir."

"But I don't have any family left," Harry said plaintively. "Who will I have as my second?"

"You have some very distant cousins here and there, Harry. We'll find an appropriate person for you," Dumbledore promised. He stood thinking for a moment. "Ah. I know the perfect person," he said with a smile.

"Who?"

"Neville Longbottom. He's a very distant cousin of yours," Dumbledore informed him. "But there's no rush. I'll think about it a bit more, maybe do some research on the bloodlines and see if there's anyone else so you can have a choice."

"Neville's fine with me," Harry said. "He just has to know what to tell the next Heir, right?"

"Yes."

"What if. . . what if I never have children? Who will be the next Heir?"

"If both Professor McGonagall and I are gone by that time, Mr. Longbottom, or whoever you choose as your second, will need to check the bloodlines to see who the possible Heir may be. Then there are other things he'll need to do to be positive this is the right person. But that's a long time in the future, and probably won't come to pass anyway, Harry. Let me show you some interesting things," Dumbledore said. He could see Harry was worrying about the future, his thoughts going to a dark place he didn't want Harry to visit now.

"OK," Harry said, understanding he was being diverted from that course of thought.

Dumbledore moved to a large book on a tall stand. "This is the catalogue for the library. Anything you want to look up, just look for the subject in here and it will direct you to the proper book. Also, when new books are added to the shelves, this catalogue automatically updates itself with the name and author of the book and a listing of its contents in the proper categories."

"Wow, that's some spell!" Harry said, realizing how complex a spell it would require to have the catalogue do all those tasks automatically.

"Yes, it is. One of the Heirs had a wife who was a librarian. He worked out the spell based on her suggestions. It's quite useful, actually," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Why don't you browse the shelves and get an idea what's in here? I have a bit of work to do. If you see a book that interests you, go ahead and take it down. Oh, one more thing. Before you start browsing, be sure to tap the catalogue and say, 'Twentieth Century English,' unless you want to try to read Old English or some foreign language."

"You mean the catalogue translates the books as well?" Harry said, astonished.

"It's something like a Glamour Charm, but yes, it translates the books. The spell only lasts for four hours, so if you're working down here longer, you'll need to return the book you're using to the shelf and do the charm on the catalogue again."

"Cool!" Harry breathed, following Dumbledore's instructions for the Translation Charm, then browsing the stacks of books.

Some time later, both Dumbledore and Harry were immersed in reading heavy old books. Harry looked up at his headmaster. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Would it be possible to take one of these books up to show Hermione? This one has information on the Animagus transformation that might help her."

"No, I'm sorry, Harry. The books can't leave the Chamber. There are spells on the Chamber that protect them from deteriorating with age. If they left the Chamber, they might fall apart. However, you may bring your friends down here if you wish - but they must be sworn to secrecy."

"They can come down here?"

"Normally, only the Heir's family is allowed down here, but Ginny, Ron and Hermione are like a family to you, aren't they?" he said with a smile. "It will be fine to bring them here. They won't remember how you opened the Chamber, since the Sorting Hat won't tell them how it's done. It will be new to them every time, and they'll forget it right away. But the Chamber itself, they will remember. Just explain to them that it must remain a secret. Actually, one of the Weasleys could be your second, if you want. They're distantly related to you."

"They are?"

"Yes, quite distantly, but close enough that any of the Weasleys could be your second. Mr. Longbottom is more closely related to you than they are, but the second doesn't have to be a close relation."

"Cool!" Harry said. "Ron could be my second, then!"

"Yes, he could," Dumbledore agreed.

They went back to reading for a while. Eventually, Dumbledore finished the notes he'd been taking, shut his book and shelved it. "Ready to see some more?" he asked Harry.

"Yes," Harry said eagerly.

"Write down the name of the book and the page number so you can find it again," Dumbledore suggested. "You cannot put a book mark in any of them. They're simply too fragile."

"Right," Harry said, making a note of where he'd stopped reading, then shelving the book. When he finished, he turned an excited face to his headmaster. "What's next?"

"Come this way." Dumbledore led him out of the library room and into a room full of a wide variety of instruments. Harry walked through the room quietly, careful not to touch anything, staring around him in awe. There was a huge lunarscope, several Dark Detectors, instruments similar to those in Dumbledore's office, and in the centre of the room, quite a large crystal ball.

"Was Gryffindor a seer?" Harry asked curiously as he noticed the sphere.

"No. This isn't a crystal ball, Harry. It's a Seeing Glass."

"What's that?"

"It shows you people you want to see. Look into it - don't break eye contact with it or you'll break the spell - and think of someone you'd like to see."

That was easy. Harry gazed into the globe and thought of Ginny. Instantly, she appeared. "There's Ginny!"

"Where is she? What is she doing?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry chuckled fondly. "She has ink on her nose. She's in class, taking notes."

"Bend down and look through the side of the glass, then move around it, standing up tall and bending down low, to see all the parts of the room. Tell me who's sitting next to her. Tell me which row she's sitting in. You should be able to see a great deal of detail."

Harry followed his instructions, heeding the warning Dumbledore gave again to not break eye contact with the glass. "She's in the third row from the front, sitting next to Colin Creevy. Luna Lovegood is sitting behind her. Professor Flitwick is walking between desks, lecturing on something. Can we hear what they're saying somehow?"

"No, this is a visual aid only, I'm afraid," Dumbledore told him. "If you can create a charm to make it also allow the Heir to hear what's being said, that would be a tremendous help."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because many of us have tried and none of us have succeeded," Dumbledore said with a shrug. Then he smiled. "It's your turn."

Harry chuckled. "My turn, eh? What else is it my turn for?"

"Many things. All in good time, though, lad. See who else you can find in the glass."

Harry glanced up, breaking the charm, then looked into the glass again, thinking of Ron. He laughed. "Ron's asleep in class again," he said. "Oh, I suppose I shouldn't have told you that," he said, his cheeks pink.

"I am aware that some classes don't capture students' interest as much as others," Dumbledore said benignly. "What else can you see?"

"Hermione's taking notes. Parvati is in front of her, next to Lavender. Neville is next to Hermione, and Dean's next to him. Ron's face is about to fall off of his hand. He's really sound asleep." Harry laughed out loud then. "Hermione just poked him awake. He looks silly." Then his face pinked again, remembering that he was usually asleep in class whenever Ron was. "Has to be History. He doesn't sleep like that anywhere else since we got out of Divination." He heard Dumbledore chuckle quietly. "Professor Binns is lecturing, as usual. Everything looks just as it always does, except that I'm not there."

"Let's see who else you can see. Try another vision."

Harry thought a moment, and then his face became very serious. He gasped when the vision in the glass changed to show Voldemort sitting at a table, reading something and taking notes on it. "I see Voldemort."

"You do?" Dumbledore said sharply. "No, don't look up! Don't lose the vision," he urged. "Where is he?"

"In a room, sitting at a table. He's reading something and making notes."

"Move around. Tell me what else you can see. Look at what he's reading. Can you make it out? Can you find anything recognizable in the room, or out of the window, perhaps?"

"Do you mean I've just found him? You didn't know where he was?" Harry said in astonishment.

"You have a connection with Voldemort, Harry. He puts wards around himself that keep the glass from seeing him."

"He's aware of this glass?" Harry said, startled enough that he almost broke eye contact with the glass.

"No, but he knows there are a wide variety of ways to search for him," Dumbledore explained. "Move around. Tell me what you see."

Harry straightened up and tried to read over his enemy's shoulder. "It's a potion recipe," he said, squinting as he tried to read it. "I can't make out the title. He has his hand over that part of the page. But from the ingredients," he said, struggling to read them past the man's shoulder, "it looks like a . . . preservative type of potion, I think. I mean, one that will preserve things, make them last a long time."

"For his eyes, most likely," Dumbledore said.

"Yeah," Harry said darkly. "Can he tell he's being watched?"

"No, he shouldn't notice you watching him at all," Dumbledore assured him. "Where is he? Can you tell?"

"It's a normal-looking room. Plaster-type walls - the walls and windows look like those in a Muggle house, I mean. But he's using candles and oil lamps, not electricity. I can see a hill with a few trees on it through the window." Harry squatted down and moved around, trying to see more of the room, or something else outside the window. "I'm sorry, Professor. I can't see anything that's recognizable, or that's unique enough to make it easy to find."

"He chooses his lairs well," Dumbledore sighed. "They're normally quite difficult to find. The fact that you can see him in the Seeing Glass is a wonderful thing, Harry. We might be able to track him down faster now."

"Great," Harry said grimly, staring hard into the glass as he stood up and bent over the top of it. Suddenly, he made a growling sound.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"His potion. It's to preserve his Eye Restoring Potion. I can read his notes. He's bending over the book right now. But he's written that he needs more eyeballs and three human spleens."

"Spleens?"

"Something to do with purifying the blood, I think," Harry said. "His notes are a bit cryptic and his handwriting's atrocious." He jumped back suddenly, falling to the floor.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked as he helped the young man to his feet.

"He looked right at me! I thought you said he wouldn't know I was there!" Harry was panting as if he'd just run a race.

"Did he look as if he knew he was being watched?" Dumbledore said in concern.

"He seemed to be suspicious of something, but I broke the contact as soon as he looked at me," Harry said, trying to breathe normally again. "What does it look like to people who are being watched? Can they see a shimmer from the glass being in the room or anything?"

"No, nothing," Dumbledore assured him. "Spleens and more eyes? Are the spleens for the potion?"

"I think so," Harry said, shuddering at the thought. His good mood had completely evaporated.

"Well done, lad. That's enough of the Seeing Glass for today. This is one of those things I don't want you to spend too much time on, all right?"

"Yeah, no problem," Harry agreed, still shaken by what he'd observed and what it meant. More people were going to be sacrificed for the monster's experiments. More people were going to die because Harry Potter had the bright idea to scratch out the eyes of Lord Voldemort. He tried to shake off the dark mood that had overtaken him again so suddenly, but was unsuccessful.

Dumbledore sighed. A whole morning's effort at brightening the boy's attitude, totally wasted. "I'm sorry, lad. I should not have pushed you to stay in that vision."

"No, it's all right," Harry said. "We need to know as much as possible about what he's up to, right?"

"Yes, but not at the cost of your peace of mind."

"I'm fine," Harry said dully.

"No, you're not, but we'll work on that," Dumbledore said stoutly. "Come on, I have more to show you." A long walk later, they were in a huge room with strangely dark walls.

"What is this place? It's as big as the Great Hall!" Harry said in amazement.

"It's under the Great Hall, actually," Dumbledore told him. "This is the Spell Chamber. The walls are made to absorb spells without being damaged and without allowing them to bounce off. So we can practice spells that aren't explosive down here. Watch." He cast a spell at the wall and the red light of his Stunner just went into the dark, oddly soft-looking wall and disappeared.

"Cool," Harry said, trying to get back to the good mood he'd had only a short while ago.

Dumbledore realized the room wasn't capturing Harry's attention sufficiently and sighed. "Come on, Harry. Let's go to my office for some lunch. I believe we've earned it."

* * * * *

They followed this routine for several days, working in the office or the Chamber, never going into the corridor or seeing any other students until Harry had Quidditch practice one afternoon. He was looking forward to seeing his friends, and was whistling cheerfully, his broom on his shoulder, as he headed toward the locker rooms.

"HARRY!" Ginny cried, running to him eagerly. Harry laid his broom down and grabbed her and swung her around happily. "You look so much better, baby!" she said, laughing as he swung her faster, then finally set her on her feet.

"I feel better," he said with a crooked grin, then bent down and kissed her soundly.

"How did Dumbledore make you feel so much better so quickly?" she asked as she laced her fingers through his.

Harry bent down and picked up his broom, then led her toward the locker room. "We've talked for hours and hours and hours," he said quietly. "And what he's teaching me is fascinating, so he's keeping my mind far too occupied to brood. But the best thing is, I've learned so much in just these few days, I feel a lot better prepared than I did."

"Better prepared?"

"To kill Voldemort. To defeat him completely. I had an idea how to do it and had started working on it a bit myself. Now Professor Dumbledore is helping me with it. He thinks it will work!" Harry's eyes were bright and excited.

"Wonderful! You'll have to tell me all about it," she said happily.

"I want to work it out more before I try to explain it to anyone," he said. "I'm still sorting out the whole concept. But it's cool. I think it will work."

"And then we can get on with our lives," she said happily.

He stopped and looked down at her, his eyes soft and warm, a sweet smile on his face. "Yes," he said, "we can." He leaned down to give her a serious kiss but was interrupted by Colin's excited shout.

"Harry! Harry's here!" Colin cried when he spotted his friend near the door.

"Hey, mates! Good to see you!" Harry said as he entered the locker room. His team mates were pounding him on the back, shaking his hand, ruffling his hair, greeting him with all the enthusiasm anyone could hope for.

"Why aren't you going to classes anymore?" Euan asked when things settled down a bit.

"I thought it was all explained," Harry said uncertainly, looking at Ron, then Ginny, both of whom nodded but looked uneasy. "I was told the professors would tell you lot about it."

"They did, but. . .," Euan said, but then his voice trailed off as he realized he should have kept his mouth shut.

Harry saw the boy's discomfort. "It's OK, Euan," he said kindly. He looked at his team mates, all of whom, except the Weasleys, looked just as eager to hear Harry's explanation as Euan did. "All right, you lot, sit down, and I'll give you the short version, OK?" They needed no further invitation. They all sat perfectly still, looking up at him expectantly. Even Ginny and Ron seemed to be eager to hear what he had to say, and they knew what had pushed Dumbledore to this decision. He sighed, wondering exactly how to begin. "What did the professors tell you?"

"McGonagall told us that you were in training with Professor Dumbledore and didn't need to go to class anymore," Euan said promptly.

"Are you Dumbledore's apprentice?" Colin asked eagerly.

"Apprentice?" Harry said, considering. "I guess you could say that, yeah."

"Why did he decide he needed an apprentice?" Dennis asked.

"I don't think that was his initial idea," Harry said, trying to find the simplest way to explain things. "Um. . .you all know I have to fight Voldemort." They nodded. "You also know I only have a few months left at Hogwarts." More nods. "Dumbledore thinks I need more training to be ready to defeat Voldemort than I can get in the last few months of Hogwarts. The Aurors School has already accepted me, so N.E.W.T.s aren't really necessary - they said they'll understand if I don't manage to take them. Ron and I actually tested out of some classes in Auror School because of our training with the D.A., isn't that cool?" He saw smiles and nods from the older kids.

"What do you mean, 'tested out'?" Fiona asked.

"We already know what they're going to teach in some classes, so we don't have to take those classes in Auror School," Harry explained.

"Wow!" Fiona said, obviously impressed. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Harry said. "So anyway, Dumbledore decided he can teach me what I need to know faster than I can get it in class, and faster than I could do if I had to deal with homework from other classes. So I'm spending very long days with him, from dawn until the wee hours of the morning most of the time, trying to learn everything he can teach me. That's why I've been staying up there in the guest quarters off of his office, so we can work long into the night if we want to, without me disturbing my roommates by coming in so late. I'll still be taking a few classes, the ones he can't cover for me. And I'll still be here for Quidditch practice and for D.A. meetings. After we get a bit further in my lessons, I'll be able to stay in Gryffindor Tower again, because we won't need to work so many hours per day once we get a routine worked out. That's it. OK?" His team mates nodded, and Harry put his broom over his shoulder again. "Anyone for Quidditch?" he said with a grin.

* * * * *

"How was practice?" Dumbledore asked when Harry returned to his office.

"It was great! I wish I could fly every day," Harry said happily as he stood his broom in the corner of the guest room where he was staying.

"When you're playing professional Quidditch, you'll be flying quite often," the headmaster said with a smile.

"Yeah, that will be brilliant," Harry replied, his eyes dancing at the thought. He went to his desk and picked up the spell book he'd been working with last, then looked at Dumbledore seriously. "I had to explain to them why I'm up here."

"I thought that would come up," Dumbledore said. "The teachers have explained it to their classes as well as possible, but I expected your friends would want to hear the story directly from you. What did you tell them?"

"I left out the vision I had to recover from," Harry said with a shrug, "and told them the rest. I didn't tell Ginny or Ron about the Chamber yet. I thought I'd wait until I could show it to them."

"That's probably a good idea," Dumbledore concurred.

"Colin asked if I'm your apprentice," Harry said, watching his headmaster carefully.

Dumbledore chuckled. "That's an excellent question. I suppose you are. An apprentice in any trade tries to learn everything he can from the master craftsman. That's what we're doing here - I'm trying to teach you all I know. So yes, Harry, you are my apprentice."

"That's cool," Harry said with a smile. "What are we working on next?"

* * * * *

Several days later, Hermione and Ron were trudging down to Hagrid's for Care of Magical Creatures class.

"I can't stand it!" Hermione said huffily after walking in silence for some time.

"What?" Ron said, looking at her curiously.

"Harry's not here! He said he was going to keep taking Care of Magical Creatures, and that he would come to class today, but he's not here! Do you see him anywhere?" she said, looking up at him.

"Nope."

"He and I only have two classes together now, and when he's not in those. . . . I didn't realize I'd miss him so much," she said sadly. "We always have such fun in this class."

"Yeah," Ron replied. "I miss him too. I hate being the only Gryffindor in Inter-Beings Languages." He put his arm comfortingly around her shoulders as they continued down the hill. When they rounded Hagrid's hut and headed for the paddock beyond it, they were surprised to see a glint of light in the edge of the trees. A moment later, Harry jogged over to them.

"There you are! Where've you been?" Hermione said eagerly.

Harry shrugged. "I was running late, so I flashed here."

"Must be nice!" Ron said with a laugh.

"Yeah," he replied. "So how are you two doing? I miss you."

"We miss you too," Hermione said, slipping her hand through his arm and pulling him close.

"We're fine. Buried under N.E.W.T. revision," Ron said. "You're lucky you don't have to do it!"

"Yeah," Harry said lightly, biting back the retort that wanted to burst from him. I don't have to do normal work because I have to learn how to destroy Voldemort. I'd much rather be living a normal life! Don't you know that?

"What's Dumbledore teaching you now?" Hermione asked.

"I conjured an elephant a little while ago," Harry said, looking quite pleased with himself.

"An elephant? Why?" Hermione said, her eyes wide.

"Because it's such a large animal. He showed me how to control it, as well. It was pretty cool!"

"Wicked! How do you control a conjured animal?" Ron said excitedly.

"It depends on how you conjure it, and what you conjure and a lot of other variables," Harry explained. "I made sure the elephant I conjured was a trained one, not a wild one, for starters. That made him easier to control."

"What did you have him do?" Hermione said eagerly.

"I had him carry logs with his trunk and tusks, and I had him knock on Hagrid's door with his trunk - Hagrid loved it!" Harry said, chuckling.

"Did he keep it?" Ron said warily, glancing around to see if there was an elephant lurking somewhere nearby.

"No, I vanished it after I finished with it," Harry replied.

"So how will that help you conquer Voldemort?" Hermione said.

"I can conjure large animals and send them charging at the Death Eaters, for one thing," Harry said, "very much like that nasty beast that attacked Ron, Remus and me."

"But they might trample the D.A. members!" she said in concern.

"That's something we're working on, trying to set parameters on the spell so it will avoid trampling certain people. We don't know if it will work or not, but we're playing with it."

"So you're inventing more spells?" she said, sounding wistful.

"Sometimes it's necessary," he replied with a shrug.

When class was over, Harry said, "Can you help me catch up with Inter-Beings Languages, Ron? And Potions, Hermione? It's time I started going to them again."

"Why take Potions if Dumbledore's letting you out of class?" Ron said curiously.

"Aurors need to be well-trained in Potions," Harry replied, then continued with an easy grin, "and I seem to get poisoned on a regular basis, so knowing antidotes is a good idea for me."

Ron snorted with laughter. "Yeah, you're right. When do you want to go over the stuff you've missed?"

"Dumbledore said I can stay out until eight o'clock tonight," Harry replied, "so I can eat dinner with you lot and go back to the Common Room to study until then. Is that OK with you?"

"Yeah, great! Ginny will be glad to see you, mate," Ron said.

"I'll be glad to see her too."

* * * * *

"Harry!" Ginny cried when Harry showed up in the Great Hall for dinner that evening. She got up from the table and threw herself into his arms.

"Hi, baby! I've missed you!" he said, giving her a hug and setting her back on her feet. Anything more and the whole Hall would have been filled with hooting students cheering them on.

"Talking to you on our rings at night just isn't enough," Ginny said, leaning against his arm after they sat down together.

"Yeah, I know," he said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "That's the worst part of this. But the rest of it is brilliant. We'll manage. I think it's good training for next year when I'll be off at Auror School and you'll still be here."

"I don't think I'll be able to stand you being that far away for so long," she said, sighing heavily. "I can barely stand this much separation, and you're still at Hogwarts!"

"We'll manage," he assured her. He looked across the table at Ron and Hermione and grinned suddenly. "Are you three terribly busy this evening?"

"Just homework - normal stuff," Hermione answered. "Why?"

"Come with me after dinner. I have something to show you. Bring your books, we can study too," he said, his eyes dancing. Dumbledore had told him that morning that he could invite his friends to visit sometime soon if he wanted to, and he was welcome to show them the Chamber.

* * * * *

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked in shock when she saw Harry opening the display case in Dumbledore's office housing Gryffindor's sword.

"Just watch," Harry said with a mischievous grin. He drew the sword down the picture frame's edge revealing the opening in the wall.

"What's this?" Ginny asked leaning into the opening.

"Come on, I'll explain as we go," Harry said, ushering his friends into the entryway.

"Are you sure we're allowed?" Hermione said nervously as the wall closed behind them.

Harry was quiet a moment. "I told you when I brought you to the office that I was going to tell you things and show you things that you must keep secret. This doorway is one of them. What I'm about to tell you is another, as is the stuff I'm going to show you below here."

"Below?" Hermione asked nervously, glancing at the slide.

"Patience, Hermione," Harry chided her gently. "Here's the thing. I'm the Heir of Gryffindor. This is Gryffindor's Chamber of Knowledge. It's like Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, but it isn't dangerous." He put his hands on Ginny's shoulders. She was understandably nervous, especially after he mentioned the Chamber of Secrets, where she'd nearly died her first year at Hogwarts. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you, don't worry. This is a good place." He turned to the slide. "This is the way down. Ron, you should go first. It's made for men, and the girls are so small, they may go shooting off the end if you're not there to catch them. It's just a big spiral slide, that's all. It's wicked fast, and loads of fun. Gryffindor apparently had a wonderful sense of humour and was rather playful. He has fun things like this in various parts of the Chamber."

"How do we get back up?" Hermione asked, looking worried.

"I'll show you when we get down there," Harry promised. "Right, then. Ron? Go on. It's most fun if you hold your hands over your head."

"OK," Ron said, putting his bag in his lap as he sat down, then pushing off and putting his hands over his head. Shouts of laughter soon wafted up the shaft to the three waiting above. "I'm down!" Ron called a few moments later. "That was brilliant!"

"OK, I'm sending Hermione down," Harry said, helping his friend to sit down at the top of the slide with her bag in her lap. "You don't have to hold your bag. It will stay in your lap, no problem."

Hermione just looked frightened and held her bag tightly.

"Did you ever ride down slides in playgrounds when you were little?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes. But I could see where they were going!" she said uneasily.

"This one's going to toss you right into Ron's waiting arms," Harry promised. "Off you go," he said, giving her the gentlest push possible.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, then started moaning, which turned into a squeal and finally laughter as she got used to the ride and wound up in Ron's arms, exactly as promised. "I'm down!" her laughing voice called up the shaft. "It was great fun once I got used to it!"

"I knew you'd like it," Harry called down. "I'm sending Ginny now." He gave her a kiss and helped her get her bag settled in her arms, then pushed her off gently. Ginny laughed and squealed joyfully the whole way down.

"I'm down!" she called. "Come on, Harry!"

"Coming," he said, giving himself a hard push off so he'd slide down as fast as possible. "WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOO!" he cried as he slid down the spiral, landing neatly on his feet by his friends when he reached the bottom.

"That was so much fun!" Ginny cried. "Can we do it again?"

Harry laughed. "I have a lot to show you. You can do it again when you come back, OK?"

"OK," she agreed readily.

"Harry," Hermione said, looking up the spiral slide, "how do we go back? And where are we?"

"You're a hundred feet below ground, under Hogwarts. And to get back up, I touch this golden griffin," he said, demonstrating, "and the slide disappears and becomes a lift, see? Dumbledore and I are the only ones who the griffin will work for, but the lift will work for any of you when it's there. You just step onto it - and it will hold all of you at once, don't worry - grasp the handle and bend your knees. It spirals up the way the slide came down, and it's wicked fast like the slide!" He went on to explain about the reasons for Gryffindor creating the Chamber, and then started them on the tour. When they reached his dad's portrait, James waved and said, "Harry! Who are the babes?"

"Hi, Dad," Harry said with a grin. "I'd tell Mum on you for looking at other girls if it would do any good."

"Lily knows I only love her," James said with a cheeky grin that faded for a moment. "Well, she knew it, anyway." He forcibly brightened his face and said, "Introduce me to your friends, although I suspect I know who that pretty little redhead is."

"You're right, Ginny's my girlfriend," Harry said. "And this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They're my best friends."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he said, smirking at Harry after gazing appreciatively at Ginny. "Very nice to meet all of you, especially you, Ginny."

"Erm, thanks," Ginny said nervously. She turned to Harry while Hermione and Ron were speaking to James and murmured, "Is that really your dad?"

"Yeah, when he was seventeen. He's more like a brother than my dad since we're the same age. It's kind of weird, but at least I get to talk to him now."

"Harry, you're in the next frame!" Hermione said. "Nice picture!"

"Thanks!" the portrait of Harry said with a cheeky grin. "Look what I can do, Hermione!" With that, he walked into James's frame and the two of them stood side by side, Harry's hand on his father's shoulder.

"You really look like brothers, mate," Ron said in awe, staring at the two seventeen year old Potters in the frame in front of him. "You're almost twins!"

"Yeah, almost," James said happily. "You play Quidditch, don't you? Harry, here," he said, indicating the portrait Harry, "has told me loads about all of you. Ginny, he's awfully sweet on you."

"Yeah, I know," Ginny said, blushing.

"Son," James said importantly to the real Harry, "I think you've done well there. Pretty as a picture, plays Quidditch, red hair - who could ask for more?"

"Thanks," Harry said, laughing. "Come on, you lot, he'll keep us here all evening if we aren't careful. See you later, Dad." Harry led his friends around the corner despite their protests.

"But. . .but Harry! That's your dad! We want to talk to him!" Hermione said anxiously. "What could be more . . .oh!" she gasped as she rounded the corner and saw the library. "Wow."

"Yeah. This is where I expect you'll want to spend most of your time. We can do homework here, and there are reference books here that don't exist anywhere else," Harry said. He showed them how the catalogue worked and activated the Translation Charm. "Now all of the books are in modern English so we can read them more easily."

"Wicked!" Ron said, gazing at shelf after shelf of books of spells, jinxes, hexes, charms, and more magic than he'd ever even heard of.

After they'd spent time exploring the library, Harry showed them the Seeing Glass and the other instruments, and the Spell Chamber. "There's loads more to see down here, but these are the things I know best so far," he explained. He glanced up at one of the many small mirrors near the ceiling. "Professor Dumbledore has company coming. We'll need to stay down here until they leave."

"How do you know?" Ginny asked.

"Have you noticed the mirrors near the ceiling everywhere?" His friends nodded. "Those are sort of like a Foe Glass. They show when someone's approaching the office door in the corridor, when they're on the spiral staircase, and when they're in the office. If we see someone coming and want to talk with them, we flash to the office before the person gets to the top of the spiral staircase, so it appears we've never left the office," he concluded.

"Wicked!" Ron breathed. "Do you need to be up there, mate? We can wait for you down here."

Harry glanced up at the mirror. "It's Professor Snape. Yeah, I should go, I think. You lot stay in the library so you won't get lost, OK? I'll come back for you in a bit." He led them back to the library, where they settled down to do their homework. "See you," Harry said, then turned into a phoenix and flashed away.

* * * * *

Harry reappeared in his quarters, changed back into himself and hurried into the office. "Do you want me here? I saw Professor Snape approaching the office door."

"Yes, I'm glad you came up. Are they enjoying themselves?" Dumbledore said with a smile.

"They're having a great time. I left them in the library," Harry said, sitting at a small table near Dumbledore's desk and checking the small silver instruments on it. "Dung's back in the Hog's Head. He's finished in Knockturn Alley, then?"

"For the moment. We had a report of some Death Eater activity near Hogsmeade," Dumbledore said. "I asked him to check into it." Just then, Snape knocked on the door. "Come in," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Headmaster, I have news," Snape said urgently as he rushed into the room, then glared at Harry. "If we could have a moment?"

"You can say whatever it is in front of Harry," Dumbledore said mildly. "He's my apprentice. I'm keeping no more secrets from him."

Snape sighed heavily, then nodded. "As you wish. The Dark Lord has the giants and mountain trolls camped across a valley from each other. He plans to use them to attack Muggle villages, possibly even in whatever battles may come." He looked significantly at Harry as he said this.

"Do you know their location?" Dumbledore said eagerly.

"Yes." He named a town in the most mountainous region of Wales.

Dumbledore's eyes flitted from Snape to Harry. "Are you up for an adventure?"

"Headmaster, surely you're not suggesting--"

"Harry needs to learn diplomacy as well as battle tactics and spells, don't you think?" Dumbledore said mildly. He turned back to Harry. "Well?"

"Uh. . .what do you want me to do?" Harry said cautiously, having leaped into too many adventures without checking them out first.

"You're learning!" Dumbledore said approvingly. "You and I will be emissaries to the giants. We'll let the Ministry deal with the trolls - they can't be reasoned with at all and will simply have to be moved by force. You and I will approach the giants and try to turn them to our side."

"OK," Harry said, wondering what he was getting himself into this time.

* * * * *

"Did you have fun?" Harry asked his friends as he escorted them to the office door. He hadn't told them what Snape wanted, nor what it meant for his own immediate future. He didn't want to worry them any more than necessary.

"It was brilliant!" Ron enthused. "I don't know if I liked the slide or the lift best!"

"And the library!" Hermione breathed in awe. "I could spend years exploring it!"

"I was just glad to spend some time with you," Ginny murmured, her arms tight around Harry's waist.

"Me too," he assured her. "Thanks for the help on the homework, guys. I'll try to make it to class regularly now, at least Potions, Inter-Beings Languages and Care of Magical Creatures."

"Cool. Let us know when we can get together again!" Ron said with a grin as he held the office door for the girls.

Hermione stood on tiptoe and kissed Harry on the cheek. "I miss you being with us all the time."

"Me too," he said, kissing her in return. "See you." He gave Ginny a lingering kiss and stood waving to them as they rode the spiral staircase down to the main door. He sighed and turned back into the office, ready to shoulder his burdens again.

* * * * *

Several days later, Dumbledore and Harry stood looking across a valley cupped between three mountains. The valley was filled with a strange mist that climbed half-way up the shoulders of the surrounding mountains.

"What do you see, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, watching the young man as he scanned the area.

"Fog when there shouldn't be fog," Harry said, a puzzled look on his face. "It's too warm for fog. I don't smell anything, so it isn't smoke. What is that?"

"Very good," Dumbledore said with a pleased smile. "Take your wand and reach toward the fog. Tell me what you feel."

"But I can't touch it from here," Harry began.

"That doesn't matter. Just point your wand in its direction."

"And I'm supposed to feel something?"

Dumbledore nodded.

Harry held his wand out as instructed and concentrated on his feelings. "I feel . . . something dark. Something cold. Something . . . I feel magic! Magic's been done here, dark magic. Is that right?"

"Excellent! Now, how do we get this fog to lift so we can see what we came to see?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly.

"Think about it. You can work this out, Harry. Concentrate. Let your wand and your senses speak to you," Dumbledore instructed.

Harry held his wand out again, not certain how to do what Dumbledore wanted. Let my wand and senses speak to me. What does that mean? he thought in confusion. One step at a time, he decided, and concentrated on clearing his mind. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, finally achieving the soft, relaxed focus that worked best for him. A moment later, his eyes still closed, his hand began to move and a soft incantation fell from his lips. When his hand stopped moving and the words stopped flowing, he opened his eyes. The fog was gone. "What happened?" he said in amazement. "Did I do that? Or did you?"

"You did it yourself, Harry," Dumbledore said, obviously pleased with his student. "You sensed the spell used and reversed it. Tell me how you did it."

"I don't really know. I . . . I, erm, sort of heard a voice in my head saying an incantation, and then I just knew how to reverse it, so I said the right words. I didn't really think about it, it just kind of happened," he said with a shrug.

"Excellent! You're becoming more intuitive with your magic! Well done, Harry, really. Were you aware you were speaking in Parseltongue?"

"I was?"

"Yes. That means you just reversed a spell cast by Voldemort himself. Does your scar hurt?"

"No, not at all," Harry said, rubbing his scar as his frowned. "How could I reverse a spell I've never heard? And in Parseltongue?"

"You sensed the spell, understood it despite never hearing it before, and know enough magic now to be able to reverse it," Dumbledore explained. "I'm very proud of you. This is a tremendous achievement."

"Thanks!" Harry said, amazed at what he'd just learned. After a moment, he asked, "Voldemort put fog here to hide the giants and trolls from the Aurors, didn't he?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "Have a look," he added, nodding toward the Omnioculars hanging around Harry's neck. He raised his own spyglass and scanned the other mountains and the now-revealed valley below.

They were on the sole unoccupied mountain. The lower portion of the mountain to the west, which had been hidden by the mist, was riddled with caves filled with mountain trolls. The giants had sent up camp on the mountain to the northeast, also in an area that had been hidden. Dumbledore lowered his spyglass and looked at Harry, who was studying both camps through his Omnioculars.

"Tell me what you see, Harry."

"I see about fifty giants," he said quietly. He swung his Omnioculars to the other mountain. "There are probably thirty trolls, but it's hard to tell. Some of them could be in the caves." He pulled his Omnioculars away from his face. "Fifty giants. Hagrid said there were only seventy or eighty left. Where are the others?"

"I saw only male giants. Possibly they left their wives and children at home," Dumbledore replied, looking through his spyglass again.

"That would explain it," Harry agreed. "Are you certain you don't want me to fly over there as a raven to check things out?"

"No, Harry. Giants and trolls both move remarkably fast when they want to. They might decide you look tasty and snatch you out of the air before you can get away."

"That wouldn't be any fun at all," Harry said with a crooked smile.

Dumbledore chuckled. "So, what do you think?"

"I think we're crazy," Harry said with a nervous laugh. "Do you honestly believe we can talk sense to the giants?"

"I've done so before," Dumbledore said serenely. "It can be done again."

"You think they'll like our gifts?"

"I'm certain of it. You do remember your part, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You need to disguise yourself. They have probably heard at least a description of you, and certainly your name."

"OK," Harry agreed, then lengthened his hair down past his shoulders and grew a moustache. "How's this?"

"Very nice. I imagine Miss Weasley would approve," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Can you change the colour?"

"To what? Red? Brown?"

"Not brown, that's too close to black. Not red, it's too distinctive. Something less unusual, perhaps?" Dumbledore said, letting the younger man make his own choice.

Harry thought a moment and then concentrated on an unspoken spell Dumbledore had taught him recently. A moment later, his black hair became light sandy brown with gold highlights. "How's this?"

"Excellent! Whose hair did you think of when you did it?"

"Seamus's," Harry replied, feeling the loss of his friend quite sharply for a moment.

"Good choice. Don't forget your eyebrows and eyelashes," Dumbledore said as he studied Harry's new appearance. "Ah, wonderful," he remarked when Harry had completed his change. "If you don't mind, I'd like to add a small detail." He lifted his wand and waved it over Harry's face.

"What?" Harry asked, trying not to flinch from the wand near his face.

"Freckles," Dumbledore said with a smile. "And a Glamour to cover your scar."

"A lot or a few freckles?"

"Not too many. Far fewer than Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore assured him.

Harry pulled out the mirror he used for communication with Remus and looked at his reflection, his eyes wide with shock when he saw the stranger looking back at him. "I wouldn't have thought of freckles," he commented with a grin, "but they make a huge difference!" He looked at his unscarred forehead. "I've never seen myself without the scar. It looks so odd for it not to be there."

"Remember to use the Glamour Charm whenever you want to hide it," Dumbledore said. "And yes, the freckles do make you look quite different. The only way anyone would recognize you now is by your smile, which is quite distinctive. But I somehow doubt that any of the Death Eaters have seen you smile quite so wholeheartedly. They wouldn't be able to describe it, even if they thought of it, because they've never seen it." He pondered a moment. "I cannot call you 'Harry.' If I need to introduce you, what name shall I use?"

Harry thought a moment. "Erm. . .James. . .James Evans."

"James Evans. Very good," Dumbledore said with a smile. "All right, then, James. Ready?" Harry nodded, and they Apparated to the foot of the mountain where the giants were camped. They approached the giant camp warily, holding their gift above their heads as they entered the fringes of the camp. They headed straight for the Gurg, who lay on a bed of soft pine needles in the centre of the camp.

"Good afternoon," Professor Dumbledore said in a genial voice as they approached the giant's leader. "I am Albus Dumbledore. I bring a gift to the Gurg of the giants."

The Gurg grunted, looking avidly at the package still held aloft by the old wizard and the young man beside him. "Famhair has heard of Dumbledore. What you bring? Who is the young one?"

"This is James Evans, my associate. We have brought you a rare delicacy - dragon meat. If you'll forgive me, I must enlarge the package when we set it down. While it would be easy for any of you to carry such a quantity of meat, it is quite a burden for humans," he said mildly as he and Harry set down the package. At the Gurg's nod, he waved his wand, making the package enlarge to quadruple its size.

"How much meat?" Famhair demanded.

"An entire side of dragon," Dumbledore replied, "along with the organ meat."

The giant began to drool. "What does Dumbledore want in exchange for this gift?"

"A small favour. We would like to talk with you about your situation here, and your plans for the future. We don't need to discuss it at this time. We will return tomorrow with another gift for the Gurg," Dumbledore said easily.

"Another gift?" the Gurg said.

"Yes, a wonderful gift indeed. Thank you for your hospitality. We will see you tomorrow," Dumbledore said, taking a step back from the package of meat. Harry mirrored his action and walked at his side as they left the camp. They had barely cleared its fringes when they heard the growling of the giants as they demanded the Gurg share with the rest of them.

"That went well," Dumbledore said, looking quite pleased with himself.

"You think?" Harry said uncertainly.

"Oh yes. They will listen to us, I believe."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm going into the forest so I can send a quick Adfero to Minister Bones, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Why don't you keep an eye on the trolls and giants. Let me know if any of them are coming this way."

"All right. I'm going to climb up to that rock," Harry said, indicating a sheltered ledge above them, "so they can't see the sun hit my Omnioculars."

"Good idea. I won't be too long."

Harry was watching the trolls fighting among themselves when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. With sudden inspiration, he removed his glasses and concentrated on changing the colour of his eyes. He'd never tried it before, but if he could change the colour of his hair by thinking about it, why not his eyes? He crossed his fingers, pulled his wand and turned to face whoever was coming up behind him, keeping his wand hidden in the folds of his robes.

"Well, look what we have here, lads! A tourist! Are you on holiday, then?" a rough-looking man said. Harry recognized several of his companions as Death Eaters.

"Yes, just travelling in the mountains a bit," he said calmly, dropping his voice as low as he could comfortably in case any of them might recognize it.

"We're looking for a young man with green eyes," the man said with an evil leer. "Come out of the shadows and let us have a look."

"My eyes are hazel, not green," he said, hoping the change he'd tried for had worked.

"Come out here!" the man snarled.

"I'm not bothering anyone," Harry said. "Leave me alone!"

"Cheeky li'l devil, i'nt he?" another man said with a foul laugh. "Let's get 'im!"

Harry tightened his grip on his still-hidden wand, preparing to fight, when a sneering cool voice behind the rowdy group of men said, "What do you think you're doing?"

"We found a bloke," the second man replied. "Could be 'e has green eyes! 'E has light 'air. 'E's kinda pretty - maybe the old man will let us keep 'im a while to play with when 'e's done wi' 'im," he said with a leering grin, licking his lips lasciviously.

"You're disgusting," Snape snarled, moving through the crowd. "Let me see." He gazed at Harry quizzically, squinting as he studied the boy's face. "I won't hurt you. Just let me have a look at your eyes, all right? We're looking for someone with green eyes," he said silkily as he neared Harry.

Harry's eyes flashed furiously at first, but then he forced himself to be open to Legilimency. He willed Snape to understand who he was, and that Dumbledore was nearby.

Snape's eyes widened in surprise as he realized who he was looking at. "No. His eyes are hazel. He's not the one we want," he said, a slight frown of confusion between his eyebrows. "Why don't you go on your way, young man? We have things to do here that don't concern you."

Harry swallowed back the sarcastic reply he was tempted to give, then nodded curtly and slid down the rock to the path below. He made a concerted effort to use a different walk and change his body language to add to his disguise. He slumped his shoulders and shuffled his feet rather than striding out confidently as he normally did, feeling the eyes of the men behind him on his back. Why hadn't they simply attacked? What was Snape doing here? Who were they looking for with green eyes? His stomach dropped as he realized he might have been one of those whose eyes were being "harvested" for Voldemort's Eye-Restoring Potion. He swallowed the bile that rose at the back of his throat and followed the path into the woods. Once he was well inside the woods, he changed into a raven and flew as fast as he could to find Dumbledore.

"Professor! Professor!" he cried when he saw him and changed back into his "James Evans" persona. "Snape! Death Eaters," he gasped, completely out of breath.

"What are you talking about?" Dumbledore said in concern. "Calm down, take a deep breath." He waited while the young wizard complied. "There, that's better. What happened?"

Harry told him what had happened and what he suspected about their reasons for stopping him.

"Do you think they followed you?" Dumbledore asked in concern.

"I changed into a raven as soon as I got far enough in the forest," Harry said. "I don't think they saw me."

Both of them trained their magical glasses down the path behind Harry, then scanned the woods around them.

"It appears we're safe for now, lad. Are you quite all right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, finally getting his breath back.

"You were very wise not to try to take them on yourself," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'll contact the Aurors and let them know there are Death Eaters here who need to be dealt with." When he'd sent his message, he looked at Harry and said, "You changed your eye colour? I didn't know you could do that."

"I didn't either, but I had a feeling I should," he said. "Did it really work? Are they hazel?"

"Yes, they are! Well done!"

"Great! So do we go after them, or what?"

"We'll let the Aurors do their job this time, Harry. They'll be here soon."

"What about Snape?"

"If he did Legilimency on you, he knows I'm here as well. He will find some way to leave before they capture him." He glanced up and smiled as the first Auror arrived.

"Hello, Kingsley. It seems we have a bit of a problem," Dumbledore said.

"I want to hear the details," Shacklebolt said. Dumbledore told him about the situation and about Snape's being there.

"Who's this?" Kingsley said, looking hard at Harry.

"It's Harry. He's in disguise."

"Really? Bloody fine disguise, lad," Shacklebolt said with approval. "I wouldn't have known you. The glasses did make me wonder, but still - you look so different."

"Thanks," Harry said with a smile.

"That grin of yours would give you away to those who know you, though," Shacklebolt chuckled. The other Aurors had arrived and were coming to join him. "All right, we'll go deal with the Death Eaters, then." He looked around at his gathered team. "Let's get to work," he said, then turned back to Dumbledore and Harry. "Professor, you and that young man need to go back to school now. We'll take care of this."

"Thank you, we will," Dumbledore said.

"We aren't going to stay and fight?" Harry said, looking appalled as the Aurors hurried toward the gap in the trees that led to the valley.

"Not today, lad. We've tried to give the giants an impression of us as peaceful emissaries. If they see us fighting. . . ."

"Oh," Harry said in a small voice. "I understand."

"You said there were only eight Death Eaters anyway, right?" Harry nodded. "So our ten Aurors should be fine. Let's go back to school, then, shall we? And change into James Evans instead of Harry when we return, all right?"

"OK," Harry said with a last, regretful glance at the gap leading out of the woods through which the Aurors had disappeared. They could already hear the sounds of battle. "Are you certain we. . ."

"Let's go," Dumbledore said firmly. Harry sighed, then changed into a phoenix along with his headmaster. They flashed back to Hogwarts, directly into Dumbledore's office. As they became human again, Dumbledore said, "I wanted you to remain as James Evans because it might be hard to match your appearance exactly the next time. Why don't you stay like that until we're done with this mission?"

"What if someone sees me?" Harry worried.

"We'll just stay here in my office to keep that from happening," Dumbledore said, "although we are going to need to go to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow after our meeting with the Gurg."

"You want me to stay like this then too?" Harry said curiously.

"Yes, I believe so."

"What if someone at the Ministry sees me?"

"I don't think it will be a problem, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "It will be interesting to see how people respond to 'James Evans,' actually. I suspect the majority of people at the Ministry won't recognize you."

"But I have to be identified when we go through the Security gate," Harry said, puzzled. "How can I fool them? Isn't that against the law?"

"You're right, of course," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "All right, we'll have to make a picture of you to refer to for the third day." He stood thinking a moment, then waved his wand, muttering an incantation. He then pointed his wand at the wall. The paintings of past headmasters and headmistresses shifted aside, leaving a blank space on the wall. In seconds, a moving portrait of Harry appeared there, cheeky grin in place, but all the other details completely foreign to anyone who knew him.

"Whoa! Cool!" Harry said, looking at the picture. "How did you do that? How long will it last? It isn't like the one in the Chamber, is it?"

"No, it's a different spell. I'll show you how to do it later - it's a frivolous thing, not something you need to worry about right now, and it doesn't last long. By the time we get back day after tomorrow, it will already be fading. But it will help you prepare your disguise properly before we leave."

Harry had walked over to the picture and was studying it carefully. "It really doesn't look much like me, does it?"

"No. That's a wonderful disguise," Dumbledore said just as a knock came at the door. "Come in."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny came into the office. "Professor, where's Harry? He said we could study together this afternoon and he hasn't shown up yet," Hermione said, then noticed the stranger across the room. "Oh, I beg your pardon. We didn't know you were in a meeting."

"This is James Evans," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye.

Harry had removed his glasses as soon as he heard his friends' voices in the doorway behind him. Now he turned and looked at them gravely. "Very nice to meet you," he said, lowering his voice as much as he could comfortably. He tried very hard not to squint, but even without his glasses, he could see the girls smiling but looking a bit puzzled, Ron looking uneasy.

"Mr. Evans, this is Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley," Dumbledore said seriously, doing his best not to smile. He turned back to the students. "Mr. Evans stopped by on his way to a meeting," he said by way of explanation.

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" Hermione said. "You look a bit familiar."

"Several years ago, yes," Harry replied, keeping his voice low while fighting down laughter.

"Why is there a picture of you on the wall?" Ginny said in confusion. She looked back at the tall, handsome young man before her. Dark blond hair falling to his shoulders in handsome waves, a moustache, freckles, hazel eyes. . .but those eyes were shaped like Harry's, crinkling in suppressed humour exactly the way Harry's did, and there was a slight dimple in his chin. . .a dimple she enjoyed nibbling on. . . . She grinned. "Harry?"

Harry burst out laughing. "I wondered how long we'd be able to fool you!" he said, grinning madly.

"No! Is that really you?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. "Bloody brilliant disguise!" Ron said approvingly. "What are you made up for?"

"A meeting we had this morning," Harry replied. "We have to repeat the meeting twice more. Professor Dumbledore created this temporary painting so I can refer to it when I do this again." His friends clustered around him, the girls touching his hair, Ron admiring his freckles.

"You could almost be a Weasley with those, mate," he said with a grin.

"I considered making my hair red, but Professor Dumbledore thought red was too distinctive. He wanted me to be easier to forget than redheads are," Harry said, tugging gently on Ginny's long mane as he spoke. He got his glasses out of his pocket and put them back on. "There, that's better!"

"Your eyes look different," Ginny said. "They aren't as green."

"That's because I tried to make them hazel. Do they look hazel to you?" he asked curiously.

"They look hazel to me, mate," Ron said. "How'd you do that?"

"The same way I did my hair colour," he said with a shrug and a glance at Dumbledore. He didn't want to tell them about the Death Eaters looking for more green-eyed people if he could avoid it.

"How did you hide your scar?" Ron asked, studying Harry's smooth forehead. "You look so strange without it."

"Yeah, I know. It's a Glamour Charm. Professor Dumbledore did it," Harry replied.

"How are you managing meetings without glasses?" Hermione said curiously. "And who are you meeting? What's going on?"

"I wore my glasses," Harry explained. "We thought I was disguised enough to get away with wearing them in front of people who've never seen me before. I took them off just now because I knew you'd guess as soon as you saw them."

"It still would have taken me a moment," Hermione admitted. "But you haven't answered my other questions yet."

Harry looked at Dumbledore questioningly. Seeing a nod from his headmaster, he said, "We visited the giants who have come to help Voldemort fight us."

"WHAT?" Hermione gasped.

"Giants?" Ginny said in a tiny squeak.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said. "What happened?"

"Come and sit down," Harry invited as Dumbledore conjured a tea tray. Once everyone was settled, Harry told his friends all about what had happened with the giants.

"And you're going back tomorrow?" Ginny said, looking a bit squeamish.

"Yeah," Harry said calmly, hoping his friends wouldn't be too frightened for him. "We'll be fine, don't worry."

"Were you scared?" Ron asked, his eyes wide in amazement.

"A bit," Harry admitted, "but everything went exactly the way Professor Dumbledore said it would. It was amazing. At least this Gurg speaks good English. That made it easier."

"Where did you get the dragon meat?" Ron asked.

"Charlie. Professor Dumbledore contacted him, hoping to find at least a good bit of dragon hide. As it turned out, a Common Welsh Green was killed last week in a fight with another dragon, so he sent the meat and the hide over, after he had the hide made into a giant-sized cloak."

"A giant-sized cloak?" Hermione said with a gulp. "It must be huge! What are you going to do with it?"

"It's the second gift for the Gurg. Charlie said it took nearly the entire hide to make it," Harry replied. "It's a bugger to carry, really heavy and cumbersome despite being trussed up. And we can't levitate it," he said as he saw Hermione open her mouth to make that very suggestion, "because giants don't like wizards using magic around them. Professor Dumbledore asked permission before enlarging the package of meat when we were with them." His friends sat in stunned silence for several minutes.

"Since you're all here, if you want to study together, you're welcome to use Harry's room," Dumbledore suggested. "I think you'll be more comfortable in there, and you can speak freely about today's adventures. Such things shouldn't be discussed in Gryffindor Tower. Harry has a large desk and several comfortable chairs, and he can conjure a table if you need that as well. I'd offer you the Chamber, but Harry and I have quite a few documents spread out over the tables, so there wouldn't be much room for you to work."

"So you don't need me for a while?" Harry said.

"No, I have some things to do. Why don't you go study with your friends? The break will be good for you."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said with a grin, then led his friends into his room not far from the headmaster's office.

They settled down to their work in short order, but they hadn't worked very long before Ron said, "What's it like, Harry?"

"What's what like?"

"Walking into a giants' camp. Looking so different. Doing stuff with Dumbledore like this. I mean . . . I can't get my mind around it!" Both girls lifted their heads, following the conversation closely.

"Walking into the giants' camp was . . . scary. But it was exciting, as well. Looking like this, I felt . . . free, somehow. If I'd gone in looking like myself, I think I would have been afraid. I mean, they know Voldemort wants to kill Harry Potter. But James Evans," he said, spreading his hands wide and smiling happily, "he's a free man. He can move around the country with no one trying to kill him just for being who he is. That's an amazing feeling, you know?" His friends nodded. "And doing this kind of stuff with Dumbledore . . . he's decided I need to learn about diplomacy as well as magic. That's why he's taking me with him on these trips. Tomorrow, we're giving the Gurg that cloak and talking about terms of an agreement. Then we'll go to the Ministry and force them to listen to reason if they won't go along with the terms willingly. That should be interesting!" he said, his eyes twinkling. "Dumbledore's amazing. It's just . . . awesome . . . to watch him at work. I'm learning so many things from him."

"What an opportunity," Hermione breathed wistfully.

"I know. And I will, as promised, share as much as I can manage, whenever I can," Harry said, grinning mischievously at her. "Patience is a virtue, Hermione."

"One you've never had a great deal of," she said tartly, teasing him.

"True, but I'm getting a bit better about it," he admitted.

"You will be careful tomorrow, won't you?" Ginny murmured as she leaned against him.

"You know I will," he promised.

* * * * *

The next day at about the same time, Harry and Dumbledore again entered the giants' camp. The Gurg was waiting for them eagerly.

"What you bring this time?" he said as he studied the bundle they carried over their heads.

"We've brought you a dragon hide cloak, made from the dragon whose meat we gave you yesterday," Dumbledore said. "This cloak will protect you, keep you warm in the winter, and dry in the rain, and as you can see, it's very handsome." As he spoke, he and Harry set the bundle down and untied the cords that bound it into a manageable package. Harry shook out the cloak to display it. The dragonhide shimmered with iridescent colours and had beautiful fastenings large enough for a giant's hands to manage.

"This dragon was bothering a village in western Wales," Dumbledore lied smoothly. "Mr. Evans, here, heard the tale and was curious about the dragon, so he went there. He killed the dragon and saved the village. When he heard I was coming to meet you, he asked to come along. He wanted to honour you with a gift from his first dragon kill."

"Why?" the Gurg asked, looking at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat, quickly going over his story one last time before speaking. "I am learning all I can about the various races of beings in order to help bring peace to the wizarding world in whatever way I can." He bowed slightly. "I am honoured to be able to speak with the great Gurg of the giants, and to bring him such a fine gift."

"How you kill this dragon?" the Gurg said, studying the tiny human before him. Giants stayed away from dragons. How could a puny human kill one? The thick, slow gears in the giant's mind turned ponderously as he tried to picture the battle between this small light-haired man and a huge green dragon.

"The dragon was a Common Welsh Green, as you can tell from its hide. The plates on their stomachs separate when they move in certain ways. I knew this might be a vulnerable spot on the dragon if I had to fight it. I went to see the dragon, hoping to observe it at a distance, but it attacked when it saw me. I was on my broom and flew up to avoid it, but it flew after me. We dodged each other for a while. Whenever I tried to fly away, it came after me. I didn't think I'd be able to escape. Finally, it reared up to strike me, and the plates on its belly separated. I conjured a sword and pushed it all the way to the hilt between the plates on the dragon's belly, then flew away as fast as I could because the dragon was falling. It died soon after that." Harry shrugged a bit, as if killing a dragon was an everyday occurrence. He'd deliberately avoided saying anything about casting spells on the dragon. The Conjunctivitis Curse that worked to subdue dragons was also one of the few spells that worked against giants, and he didn't want to offend his host by referring to it.

"Famhair likes your gifts," the giant told Dumbledore, "and your story," he told Harry. "What is it you wished to talk about?"

"An agreement between the giants and the Ministry of Magic. We would like your promise that you will not fight for Voldemort nor attack humans. In exchange, the Ministry is prepared to offer you a home in the mountains west of here where you can live at peace. There are no wizard or Muggle habitations nearby, so you won't be bothered, and there is plenty of game in the mountains there, so your hunting will be good. We will bring a document signed by the Minister of Magic stating these terms if you will agree."

"Lord Voldemort told us we can have whatever land we want if we came to fight on his side," Famhair said sceptically.

"Lord Voldemort is an outlaw in this land. He does not have the power to grant you the use of any land at all," Dumbledore said carefully. "The Ministry of Magic, however, can grant you land and put protections on it so that you will never be disturbed by humans. Lord Voldemort cannot give you what he promised. The Ministry can."

Famhair sat quietly for a while, apparently thinking quite hard. "How we know wizards will keep their word? They chased us out of mountains before," the Gurg said suspiciously, his teeth bared in a snarl, his hand suddenly tense on the club by his feet.

"The Ministry understands that the giants were unfairly treated in the past. The document we will bring will ensure that you are not bothered by wizards, as long as you leave us in peace. It will be a magically binding contract between the Ministry of Magic and the giants," Dumbledore explained.

"Does Dumbledore work for the Ministry now? Famhair was told Dumbledore worked in a school."

"Yes, I am headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that's true. But I also help out the Ministry from time to time."

"And this one?" the Gurg said, nodding toward Harry.

"He is my assistant. As you can see, I'm getting old. Sometimes I need help with things," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

"You bring someone from Ministry along with document, or we will not speak again," Famhair growled. "We do not trust Ministry of Magic. We will talk with them before agreeing."

"I will be happy to bring someone from the Ministry with me tomorrow, when we will also bring you another gift," Dumbledore said, realizing the giant was beginning to lose interest.

"Another gift?" the giant said, immediately intrigued. "What?"

"It will be a delightful surprise!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "You will enjoy it immensely, I believe. I will come back tomorrow with the agreement and a representative from the Ministry, and your wonderful gift."

The Gurg grunted. Dumbledore and Harry took that as signal enough to leave and walked out of the camp as calmly as they could manage.

"That wasn't bad," Dumbledore commented as he and Harry walked into the woods to flash to London.

"Not bad? I thought he was going to eat us at one point!" Harry said in amazement. "When he was growling about not trusting the Ministry and bared his teeth? I thought we were goners."

"Honestly?" Dumbledore said with a crooked smile, "I was a bit worried then, myself! Come on, we need to go to London now. Ministry of Magic Atrium, by the statues, all right?"

"The Fountain of Magical Brethren has been restored?" Harry said curiously.

"Yes, but with better statues," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You'll see. When you reappear, be sure you look like Harry Potter, not James Evans, all right?" Harry smiled and nodded. "Let's go." With two quiet "pops" the wizards Disapparated, reappearing moments later in the Atrium by the fountain.

The Fountain of Magical Brethren, which Harry had first seen when he was taken to the Ministry for a hearing, had been destroyed in a battle with Voldemort two years prior. Dumbledore had spelled one of the statues to guard Harry, sending two others off to bring back Ministry officials, and using one in his battle with Voldemort. Now, where the effete-looking wizard, vapid witch, the typically humble house-elf and abnormally subservient centaur and goblin had stood, were new sculptures. An attractive witch and wizard were shown shaking hands with a noble-looking centaur and a wise-looking goblin, illustrating the new spirit of cooperation between beings that Minister of Magic Bones was promoting. A statue of a house-elf looked on approvingly.

"I like it," Harry said, dropping a coin in the fountain.

"I think it's a wonderful improvement," Dumbledore agreed. They got their visitor's badges and passed through Security, then took a lift to the huge meeting room where they'd met with the British and French ministry officials after the battle in France the previous year.

"Here we go," Dumbledore said as he put his hand on the door. "Cross your fingers," he added with a smile just before pulling the door open.

They entered a cacophony of sound. The room was filled with Ministry officials, all of whom were talking loudly, gesticulating broadly and creating a general rumpus. When Dumbledore and Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind them, everything ceased instantly. All eyes turned to stare at them. Harry shifted his weight uneasily. What was going on?

Madam Bones smiled at them and said, "Welcome! We're glad you're here. Please, sit down." She indicated two chairs at a table in front of the high bench where she and the top officials of the Ministry were seated. The other Ministry officials were seated in serried ranks around the room.

"Let the record show that our witnesses are here. Please state your full names for the record," Madam Bones said formally.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"Harry James Potter."

"And the two of you have just come from meeting with the giants who are now encamped in Wales?" Minister Bones prompted.

"Yes, we have," Dumbledore agreed.

"Please tell us what transpired there," Minister Bones said.

Dumbledore launched into the tale, but was soon interrupted by Madam Bones.

"May I ask why you took Harry Potter with you, when the giants were brought here by Voldemort, who must have informed them that Mr. Potter is his primary target?" she asked imperiously. "Mr. Potter, is, after all, a student. Why would you expose him to such danger?"

"He was in no more danger than I was, possibly less," Dumbledore said comfortably. "Harry is my apprentice now. I thought it important that he learn about diplomacy first-hand. He is adept at disguising himself, as you may recall from hearing how he managed to go unnoticed at that concert last summer." He glanced around and saw many heads nodding. "Since he plans to be an Auror, working on disguises is useful for his education, as well. So Harry changed his appearance and came up with a pseudonym so he could accompany me. His disguise was good enough that his own friends didn't recognize him at first when we returned to Hogwarts."

"Can you show us your disguise, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones said, turning to him.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not. If I show it, I can't use it again," he said simply, hoping he wasn't causing offence with his refusal.

"Well said!" Mr. O'Connell of the Auror School cried. "He will make a fine Auror."

Madam Bones smiled warmly at Harry. "That's another test you passed, young man. I was hoping you'd refuse, but I felt I had to ask."

Harry grinned in sudden relief.

"Go on with your story, Professor," Madam Bones prompted.

The tale was soon told, complete with all the details except for Harry's false name and description. When Dumbledore told the Council the terms he'd discussed with the giants, an outcry rang out.

"You promised them a section of the mountains?" one man shouted. "How dare you! You overstepped your authority!"

"He did exactly as I asked him to," Madam Bones snapped. "He and I worked out the terms of the agreement before they went up there. This meeting is to ratify this agreement and choose a delegate to meet with the giants, as they requested."

As the Council muttered among themselves, Harry leaned toward Madam Bones. "Minister?" he said quietly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Did they capture all the Death Eaters? And were any of the Aurors injured?" he asked uneasily. He still felt bad about leaving without helping them fight.

"All of the Aurors are fine, and yes, they captured all of the Death Eaters in that group. And I, for one, am glad you didn't participate in that battle. Let the Aurors handle such things whenever possible, all right, young man?" Madam Bones said with a small smile.

Harry gulped. "Yes, Minister."

As the Council's discussion settled down, Minister Bones raised her voice to address them again. "As to the terms of the agreement," she said, glancing around the room, "do you have any questions?" Questions were asked and answered, points were discussed, and the terms of the agreement finally approved and signed after a great deal of pointless wrangling.

"Now we need a volunteer to go meet with the giants tomorrow," Madam Bones said, looking around the room. "Anyone?"

"I'll go," Mr. O'Connell said, at the same moment as Arthur Weasley stood up and said he would go.

"We have two volunteers. Excellent. But we only need one," Madam Bones said.

"It should be O'Connell," a man declared. "He can fight his way out if things get dodgy. Weasley's no fighter."

"I beg to differ with you on that point," Dumbledore said mildly. "No offence to either of you," he said with a genial nod to each man, "but I believe the giants would be more comfortable with Arthur Weasley, who has a less threatening appearance than O'Connell does."

"Mr. Potter, you met the giants. What do you think?" Madam Bones said.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Erm. . .well, look at us," he said, indicating himself and Dumbledore. "An old man and a boy." He turned to Dumbledore and said, "I don't mean to be disrespectful, sir."

"You're merely stating the facts. Do go on," Dumbledore encouraged him with an approving smile.

"I don't think the two of us appeared to be any kind of threat to the giants. So logically, Mr. O'Connell, who looks like a fighter, might be perceived as a threat, while Mr. Weasley, who is a wonderful fighter but doesn't look like one, might be more acceptable to them. We told them we were coming in peace. If we bring someone from the Ministry who looks that much like a warrior, it might appear that we aren't keeping our word."

"A point well taken," Madam Bones said thoughtfully. She looked at O'Connell, then at Arthur Weasley. "You're quite willing to go, Arthur?"

"Yes, Minister," he said respectfully. "I'd like to help out any way I can. I believe I can represent the Ministry's interests satisfactorily."

"I agree. All right, then. You are deputized to represent the Ministry of Magic in this meeting with the giants. Thank you for your willingness to serve," she said with a smile. "Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Potter, the Ministry thanks you for your efforts. We wish you good luck in concluding the matter."

"Thank you, Minister," Dumbledore said, inclining his head respectfully. Harry followed his example.

* * * * *

"Hagrid? Is it ready?" Dumbledore asked as he and Harry approached Hagrid's cabin later that evening.

"Hello, Headmaster! And Harry! Good ter see ya!" Hagrid said happily. "Yeah, it's all finished. I have it in me hut, here." He led them inside and picked up a long, thin log about six feet in length from his table. It had holes along one side of it and a mouthpiece carved in one end.

"Is that a flute?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah, giant-sized. Sounds interestin'," Hagrid said, lifting to his lips. He filled his lungs with air and blew into the flute with all his might, producing a lovely soft note, rich and full. His face grew red as he continued to blow into the massive instrument. An exquisite melody floated in the air, deep-throated and solemn. Hagrid gave up with a gasp. "That's the best I can do, Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said.

"It's wonderful, Hagrid, truly!" Dumbledore said happily. "I think the Gurg will like it very much. Music is a magic that's beyond anything we teach at Hogwarts. I think this flute will work its magic on the Gurg quite nicely. Thank you."

Hagrid blushed at Dumbledore's praise. "It's nuthin'," he said, his cheeks flaming red over his bristly black beard, his eyes dancing happily. "I'm just happy ter help out."

"It's beautiful, Hagrid," Harry said, admiring the carved vines spiralling up the length of the instrument. "It must have taken you a long time to do."

"Professor Dumbledore asked me ter do this ages ago, so it would be ready whenever we approached the giants again," Hagrid explained. "I just had ter polish it up a bit for it ter be ready. I hope the Gurg likes it. Who's Gurg now, anyway?"

"Famhair," Harry replied.

"Oh, I met him!" Hagrid said happily. "He was one o' the ones who were injured and hiding in the caves. Olympe and me talked ter him and his mates a long time. So he's Gurg now, eh? Good for him!"

"You said the ones in the caves were the ones who were most interested in what you had to say," Harry commented.

"Yeah, that's right," Hagrid agreed. "That's probably why you got this far in talkin' to him."

"I believe you're right, Hagrid," Dumbledore said with a smile. "He does seem interested in more than just the gifts. I think this flute will be just the thing to end our negotiations successfully."

"Good luck, Professor," Hagrid said, waving as his two friends left his cabin.

* * * * *

Dumbledore, Harry and Arthur walked slowly into the giants' camp, the huge flute, well-wrapped, held above their heads. The Gurg, sitting with his dragon hide cloak wrapped around him, looked up expectantly as they approached.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said genially. "We bring greetings to the Gurg of the giants from the Ministry of Magic. We also have a wonderful gift for the Gurg."

"Who is this?" the Gurg said, looking suspiciously at Arthur.

"This is Arthur Weasley," Dumbledore said. "He is here to represent the Ministry of Magic in finalizing the agreement between the giants and the Ministry." Dumbledore pulled out the document. "I have the agreement here. The terms are as we discussed yesterday. You will be given a section of the western mountains here in Wales where you can live in peace, as long as you don't attack any humans. In exchange, the Ministry will make your area Unplottable and put protections on it to prevent anyone from disturbing you. The document is signed by the Minster herself." He held the parchment out for the Gurg to see. "Are we agreed?"

"What is gift?" the Gurg asked, ignoring Dumbledore's question and looking hungrily at the package lying in front of the three wizards.

"It is a most wondrous gift indeed," Dumbledore said with a smile as Harry and Arthur unwrapped it. They held it up so the Gurg could see it, then laid it on the ground in front of him.

"What is it?" the Gurg said, tilting his head and studying it. He lifted it and sniffed it, as if it might be good to eat.

"It's a flute. We've brought you the gift of music, which is a magic more mysterious than any other I know." With that, he nodded at Harry, who was in his "James Evans" disguise. "Mr. Evans will demonstrate how it works with his own flute, which was made by the same person who made yours."

Harry pulled out his flute and began playing a haunting melody Hagrid had taught him years ago. The giants, always restless during these meetings, stilled, staring in fascination at the fair-haired young man who was creating such lovely sounds. When he came to the end of the tune, Harry lowered the flute and looked at the Gurg nervously. He didn't feel he was the best flute player in the world, but Dumbledore insisted Harry was better at it than he was, so he'd done his best.

"This can do that?" the Gurg said, indicating the massive instrument on the ground.

"Yes," Harry replied. "Pick it up and put that end in your mouth. Put your fingers over the holes on the front, like this," he said, demonstrating as he spoke. "Then take a breath and blow into the mouthpiece - like this." He blew into his own flute, holding the note until the Gurg followed his example. A squawky squeal came out of the giant-sized flute, making the Gurg jump and growl.

"You simply blew too hard," Harry said. "I can do that too, watch." He blew into his flute as hard as he could, making it screech horribly. "You need to blow into it gently, softly," he explained. "Try again."

The Gurg lifted the flute to his lips, trying to blow more gently. A note sounded, not quite musical, but certainly better than his previous effort.

"Softer," Harry urged, "and then move your fingers off of the holes every so often - that's how you change the notes." He played his flute again, changing notes slowly so the giant could watch him. He smiled as the Gurg finally got a decent sounding note out of the flute and then a few more.

Famhair held the flute out and looked at it after he finished playing. He ran a huge finger along the carved vine spiralling up its length. Finally, he smiled, showing his horrible, brick-sized yellow teeth. "Music," he said simply. "A fine gift."

Dumbledore, Harry and Arthur all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Talk to me of Ministry," Famhair said to Arthur. "Will they keep their word?"

"This is a magical contract," Arthur told him. "It is legally and magically binding. The magic in it prevents the Ministry from breaking it. You will have that land as a place to live in peace as long as you live in peace with humans."

The Gurg sat quietly looking from the flute to the parchment still in Dumbledore's hands. Finally he stood up and looked around at the other giants and began speaking to them in their guttural language.

"What is he saying?" Arthur asked Dumbledore uneasily.

"He's telling them the terms of the agreement," Dumbledore replied. "Be patient. Look cheerful and positive." He turned twinkling blue eyes toward Arthur and smiled. "That's better," he said approvingly when he saw Arthur working to relax his face. "James, what do you think our prospects are?"

Harry had been studying the faces of the crowd surrounding them. "I'm not sure, but I think he may be persuading them."

"I hope you're right," Dumbledore said, turning to Harry for a moment. "And for the record - I agree."

The three wizards all flinched as shouting erupted from some of the giants. The Gurg shouted right back at them. The argument went on for several minutes. Finally, the Gurg turned to them and said, "Some do not want to stay."

"Are they willing to go back where they came from without fighting?" Dumbledore said calmly.

"Yes. They like mountains we came from better. Our tribe will stay. These others will leave," the Gurg said. "Will Ministry agree to this?"

"Yes, the Ministry will agree. We don't want any of you to stay who don't want to. We just want to avoid a battle that will cost many lives on both sides," Arthur said sincerely.

The Gurg turned back to his people and passed along the information. Finally, there seemed to be agreement. He looked at the wizards and asked, "How we get our wives and families if we go to that mountain now?"

"The Ministry will help you transport your families," Arthur assured him. "So we're agreed?"

"Yes," Famhair said. He took his huge thumb and pressed it into the parchment, raising an embossed impression of his fingerprint. It was as good a signature as any.

"Excellent! I will make arrangements to help you move your families, and for the ones who want to go back to Europe to be transported there safely," Arthur said with a smile. "I can have a team up here this afternoon to get things started. Will that be agreeable?"

"Yes," the Gurg said, picking up his flute and playing it again, looking quite pleased with himself.

* * * * *

As they walked back to the forest so they could Disapparate back to London, Harry said, "How are we going to keep the Death Eaters from getting to the giants before they're moved? They could mess everything up."

"I'll put a protective spell on this area that will confuse the Death Eaters. They will think the giants have moved their camp. That will take care of things until the Ministry's team gets here to move them," Dumbledore said.

"I'll have them here in a trice," Arthur said, pulling out one of Harry's Famous Wizard cards. Seeing Harry's amused look, he said, "O'Connell told me about this. I thought it was an excellent idea, so I made one too." He contacted O'Connell and soon things were in motion to get the giants moved and settled in to their new home.

"That was a good day's work," Dumbledore said with satisfaction as he watched the first group of Ministry staff arrive to help the giants move. "Let's go."

* * * * *

Ron's mouth was hanging open as Harry finished his story later that evening. "So after all that, you had to go meet with the Ministry again and give them a report?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "It went well."

"Wicked!"

"And it was all peaceful?" Hermione said doubtfully. "No problems?"

"I told you, not all of them wanted to live in Wales. They argued a bit, but they agreed to being moved back to Europe. They didn't want to fight for Voldemort after all."

"Then why did they come in the first place?" Ginny asked.

"Because Voldemort promised them a safe place to live. Dumbledore convinced the Gurg that the Ministry is in charge, and Voldemort can't deliver on such promises," Harry said with a shrug. "This Gurg is a smart giant. As I said before, his English was really good."

"That was lucky," Ron said. "Wonder how he learned?"

"No idea. Didn't seem polite to ask," Harry said.

"Wow, what a story," Hermione said, making notes in the journal Ron had given her for Christmas.

"You can't write this story now, Hermione," Harry warned.

"I know. But someday I'll be able to, and then I'll have my notes right here," she said, patting the cover of the journal as she closed it.

"What do you mean, 'someday' you'll be able to?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I have ideas," she said mysteriously. "I'll tell you about them when it's time. They're still forming. I don't want to talk about them until I've worked it all out."

Harry shrugged and pulled out a piece of parchment to begin his Potions essay. "I can't believe Snape gave us so much homework today." He sighed, remembering the curious look Snape had given him in class that afternoon. Harry was glad Snape had escaped when the Death Eaters were rounded up. Someday, he'd like to hear how the man managed it. He sighed again, dipped his quill in the ink bottle and started writing down what Hermione was saying about the magical properties of bladderwrack.