Subplot

3 - Hermione

Instead of the Strengthening book, Professor Varlerta slammed an apple-sized, round object onto her desk - a small, obviously sand-filled canvas sack tied shut on top. "Basics and pre-requisites," she said rather loudly, making everybody look up from their books and rolls of parchment. "Theories! I'm giving you the tour on some recent developments in magical thinking and research today."

What is she up to now, wondered Hermione. She straightened out the piece of parchment with her summary. Professor Varlerta looked at them silently for a few moments, then asked:

"So what made sense to you in that chapter and what didn't?"

Grouping their answers on the blackboard, she drew up a table of 'curse systematics' and 'counter measures'. For example, slow curses worked to influence the behaviour or well-being of a person on a long-term basis were only countered by a 'concentration of inner magical strength.' This inner magical strength could be enhance by meditating, Miranda Goshawk and Gregor Forcet had stated somewhere in the chapter. For quickly working 'sudden attack curses' it was possible to draw up several kinds of magical shields which could even serve in the protection of others.

"This table is what I consider the essence of the chapter. I let you read the thing, rather than give you the table straight away, not only because the chapter gives you a lot of background information" - Hermione neatly copied the diagram on parchment, pleased with its orderly form, with the way curses were logically grouped - "but also to illustrate the main problems of Strengthening for you - namely those!" With these words, Professor Varlerta pointed to the far left side on the board, where, prompted by students' remarks, she had written:

'What is inherent strength?' 'How do we develop inherent strength?' 'How can we know whether our inherent strength is large enough to Strengthen ourselves against a curse?' 'How can we conjure up a shield against a sudden attack curse when it's sudden?'

Professor Varlerta sat back down on her desk again, taking her little sandbag up in both hands. "What makes magic work?" she asked the class.

Hermione was speechless for a second. What did make magic work? She realised that nobody had ever asked her such a question before and felt a strong desire to find an answer. The other questions asked in this lesson before had been quite basic, and even the neat table had done little to get her mind working. This, however, was different.

Dean Thomas raised his hand and was asked to speak up by a tiny nod. "You say a word and you do magic. That's the way it works."

"True. But is that all? And if so, how come spells can be successful or unsuccessful?"

Hermione noticed the class had gone silent. Professor Varlerta sat on her desk, looking patient, dangling her legs. This time she wore sandals on her bare feet as the day was quite warm. She also wore a piece of clothing that had never before been seen in Hogwarts, namely a short-sleeved witches' robe. Hermione wandered if the teacher in front of them thought them all stupid. How could they sit there in the fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and not know how magic worked? She was feeling nervous; she had to say something.

"You practice spells until they work for you. The more spells you can do, the easier it gets, and you can start learning harder spells." She winced inwardly. This sounded like such a naïve view of magic!

"Practice. An important point. Now, what is practice? Any musicians here? Quidditch players or the like?"

Hermione looked to her left where Ron and Harry sat, wondering for a second whether Ron would raise his hand. They had made him Gryffindor Keeper just yesterday. She had to conceal a smile; Ron looked like he was just oozing pride when he lifted his hand along with Harry. They had celebrated the event in the Gryffindor common room until late at night with food Fred and George had organised from the house-elves. The twins had told their gangling younger brother again and again that he had to eat if he did not want to be knocked off his broom every single time someone tried to score. "We know you've got Weasley Quidditch blood just like some of your venerable elder brothers, but don't forget you're the Arthur type, not the Molly type. So make sure you eat this," George had said, handing his brother a treacle tart that for once was nothing but a treacle tart. Now the Gryffindor Keeper and Seeker sat side by side, looking rather smug considering they could not really relate the idea of practice to magic, Hermione thought. She was getting an idea herself, though.

"When you practice something," Professor Varlerta was summarising their jumble of suggestions, "you do something over and over again to develop a skill. You can watch yourself get better gradually, but sometimes your progress takes a leap, and suddenly you can do what you couldn't do before, you just don't know why. The same goes for magic."

Hermione nodded to herself. So far so good.

"Now what do we learn if we learn to do a spell? With sports as well as with music, there's a physical and a non-physical aspect to skill. There's things like physical strength involved, things like routine. Do you have any idea how it works for magic?"

Now it was easy; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "The inherent strength that's talked about in the chapter we read is like physical strength. We need it to make a spell work and develop it by doing magic. But we need to know the words for a spell, and we need the routine to work it, too."

"Absolutely," Professor Varlerta answered. "There's lots of things about how magic works which we do not know, though, even though magic scholars have tried to explain it for centuries. For one thing, we don't know exactly why witches and wizards are obviously born with very different amounts of magical strength, and why there are Muggles without any of it whatsoever. For another, we do not know what processes steer the thing we just called routine. Some of you may have done involuntary magic as children without having any routine at all, maybe because you were angry or upset. I will introduce you to a model of how magic works, but please keep in mind that it is just that - a simplified model." Professor Varlerta scanned their faces with her gaze. "Am I boring you?"

Hermione swallowed. She had indeed started to feel bored, tempted to think of other things. She noticed that Ron had started to draw a Quidditch Keeper taking a spectacular dive after a Quaffle on his piece of parchment.

"Okay, this is theory," Professor Varlerta resumed, getting up from her desk. "We'll come to the practical stuff next week or so if we adequately cover the theory now. I'm trying to make you understand how you worked magic up to now because I want to teach you another way to work it, and you will have to understand the difference." She cast a glance at Ron's parchment. "Mr. Weasley, while a Quaffle moves on its own, please consider that sandbag on the desk for me. What would you do to make it move?"

Ron blushed because he had been caught doodling. "Summon it?" he suggested. Professor Varlerta waved him a go-ahead with her hand. "Accio sandbag," Ron said, pointing his wand, and the little object took to the air, landing neatly on Ron's desk before him.

"Worked, didn't it?" Professor Varlerta looked pleased. "Now the question is, why did it work? Let's consider a few aspects. For one thing, what if we were French? Let's see: Accio sac de sable!" The sandbag landed in her hand. "Now here's an interesting question: How come the sandbag knows French?"

A faint murmur rose in the classroom. Hermione thought the teacher had a point. Professor Varlerta went on to make another one. Throwing the sandbag a foot into the air and catching it again, she suggested:

"We could also give this little chap a name. Any suggestions? Nothing as obvious as 'baggy' though, please!"

"Morgan la Fey," Lavender Brown suggested. Hermione stifled a grin; Morgan la Fey was the subject of an off-colour joke which had recently been circulating in the girls' dormitories. Professor Varlerta however gave an appreciative nod.

"Ok, call her."

Lavender pointed her wand. "Accio Morgan la Fey!" Thump! there came the sandbag. Parvati Patil giggled in the background. Something dawned on Hermione, and she lifted her hand. Professor Varlerta nodded once more.

"Professor, do you mean to demonstrate that words do not matter much in a spell? But how can that be? We always learned to work spells with words, and if you do not say the words right, the spell will not work."

"Something tells me you'll go into research some day, Miss Granger." Professor Varlerta smiled at her. Hermione felt some blood rising to her face, sure that this was high praise. "I'll try to answer your question briefly. The relationship between spell words and spell working is a difficult one. Some spell words appear to be universal: They are the same in every language. For some spells, there are a variety of words which all work. We're touching upon a mystery unsolved by research so far. But this seems to be consensus among the scholars: To influence an object, you have to talk to it. The important thing is that the object gets your meaning. However, it is not generally believed that an object such as our sandbag understands language. Language is not important to the object, but to you! If you know what you are calling, the object in question will, too. This means you are communicating with things through a mysterious language of the mind. As a result, things do what you tell them. This is in a significant way different from what I do now." With these words she walked over to Lavender's table and took the sandbag from her hand. "Influencing things with the strength of your body means you are doing it yourself, not the object is doing it. - You think I'm being trivial, but I'm making a point here."

Hermione fought a sigh. Get on with the lesson, lady, she wanted to tell her teacher. Professor Varlerta approached Parvati now.

"Now let's consider things on a larger scale. Miss Patil, you are busy looking out the window, so I guess you can see my little research building there." Parvati turned to the teacher standing in front of her, who resumed: "Can you Summon it for me?"

"Excuse me? Can I what??"

"Summon the building. Make it move here." Professor Varlerta made it sound like a most natural request.

"Well, of course I can't."

"Why?"

Parvati's voice was betraying impatience: "Well, it's too heavy!"

"So you mean it's more difficult to influence a large, heavy object that's far away and firmly attached to the ground than old Morgan here?" Professor Varlerta was bouncing the sandbag in her hands. "Obviously we have found some categories which tend to resist magic and require to be met with more magical force, something which is in a way like magical strength because it can be measured against it. So here's my point number two: Just like with our physical strength, our magical strength is limited. It can be exercised to a certain extent, but very few of us can move mountains, so to speak. That's what Goshawk and Forcet mean when they speak about inherent strength. If you attack someone by magic, you measure yours against his or hers."

Hermione was frantically taking notes now. She found these things at the same time trivial, confusing and immensely interesting. Meanwhile, the teacher turned once more to the blackboard.

"Immensely simplified, magic works like this. We've got our objects, which have something like strength, namely magic resisting factors. If I overly simplify it, I can assign numbers to it." She drew a sandbag and wrote '5' underneath, then drew a house and wrote '500' under it. After that, she drew a stick figure subtitled with the number '50'.

"Here's Parvati. If you look at these figures and know a tiny bit about Muggle mathematics, it's obvious that Parvati can influence the sandbag, but not the building. That's because she's setting her strength against that of the object. Think of it as a subtraction of powers. - This is the kind of magic you have learned so far and that's practiced most widely in our magical world. It's about forcing objects to your will - moving them, Transfiguring them or whatever. You order them around. If you are stronger than them, fine. If not, no chance. This is very reliable, and also rather limited. However, there's another way. It's not about subtracting powers, but about adding them up. It's not about ordering objects around, but about Coaxing them to do your will!"

Professor Varlerta had paced the room and come to a halt beside the window. The class, who was entirely silent for a moment, turned to look at her now. The fine lines around the eyes of the teacher hinted at a smile.

"You will probably think: Why should I bother with trying to Coax an object if I can order it around? In our culture of witchcraft and wizardry, this is pretty much a basic maxim, and in many cases it's ineffective and tiresome to Coax objects, I admit. However, do not forget that by Coaxing, you may be able to do something which is way beyond your regular strength. If you can persuade it, each of you is theoretically able to move a mountain, though I warn you that mountains tend to be rather lazy and stubborn."

'Do things beyond my strength - move mountains (though stubborn),' Hermione wrote on her parchment note role. For a moment she imagined herself deploring Mount Snowdon to come just a little closer.

"The real point behind what I'm saying is: When you are trying to Strengthen yourself or others against a curse, the normal thing to use is your own strength, as it's very reliable. But it may not be enough, as your opponent will not be a little sandbag like this here," - she deftly threw the object so it landed on her desk with a thump - "it will be a grown witch or wizard, or maybe several, attacking you actively. If you have learned to persuade the world around you, the ground, the walls, the trees, to lend you a bit of strength for a moment, maybe to shield you or to absorb the curse in your stead, it may just come in handy."

"You will probably ask me now: How do we coach objects then? Well, here's a bit of a problem: I can't tell you, as there are no prescribed spell words for this. Each of you may have to find a different way of Coaxing. It may take you some time to find your own way. I can tell you this, though: Don't start with mountains. Start with teacups or pens or maybe with a small sandbag. Start with an object you easily have the strength to force. You may Summon, Banish or even Transfigure it. Just don't force it, persuade it.

"For your homework, please start a magic log. Note all the spells you do or try to do, whether in class or for private purposes, and whether you succeeded or failed. Also note any attempts on Coaxing, how you proceeded and to what result. Be truthful in your log if you want it to help you learn. I won't collect the logs but will expect you to be able to answer questions about it."

Hermione saw the whole class write down the assignment eagerly while Professor Varlerta started talking to the sandbag in a friendly, almost seductive voice: "Hey there, bag, I mean Morgan if you will, care to fly over here for a bit?" She stretched out her hand, and, thump! there came the sandbag.

When the Gryffindors began to leave the classroom, Professor Varlerta held back Harry, Ron and Hermione until the others had left.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you three that there is a meeting this afternoon in his office which you are asked to attend. It is a secret meeting which concerns a very serious matter, so I must ask you not to tell anybody else about it for any reason whatsoever. He said that all three of you have earned the right to be there in spite of being underage, especially as it is likely that all of you will have to deal with the things in question whether or not we try to keep you from it. Will you come?"

Hermione knew straight away what secret matters Professor Varlerta was referring to, but found it odd that as underage witch and wizards they were included in the meeting. For a second she felt an overwhelming desire to be considered a child like the rest of her year mates who could expect the adult witches and wizards to keep them from danger. But considering some of the things that had happened to the three of them in their first four years at Hogwarts, she knew Dumbledore had a point. Inviting all three of them to the meeting probably meant Dumbledore wanted Ron and her to be at Harry's side if needed. When Harry answered for all three of them that of course they would come, she did not feel the least bit resentful.

"The meeting starts in half an hour," Professor Varlerta informed them. "However, Dumbledore asked me to tell you that if you go to his office straight away, you might have the chance to talk in private to someone you will probably like to see. I don't know who he was talking about, but I hope you do."

Hermione saw Harry's face lighten up immediately. Of course he knew who Dumbledore had referred to; so did she and probably Ron as well. Professor Varlerta read it off their faces.

"I see it's indeed someone you want to see. Run along now, I'll meet you there later. The gargoyle's password for today is sugar quill."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dumbledore's office, a beautiful, circular room which caught a lot of sunlight, seemed strangely enlarged. Besides the desk of the headmaster it held ten additional tables and about forty chairs, all arranged along the walls so the participants in the meeting would be able to look at each other. Fawkes the Phoenix was standing on his golden perch. Except for one man the room was yet empty, and that man was Sirius Black. He greeted Harry, Ron and Hermione with a luminous smile. Hermione thought he had never looked so well. His face was fuller than when she had seen him last and somebody appeared to have given him a haircut as well as untattered robes. His eyes had lost some of their haunted look and at times twinkled with the life that glowed within. He's handsome, she realised, and while he shook her hand she found herself wondering for the first time whether Harry's godfather had ever had a girlfriend before his time in wizard prison. Suddenly she felt a wave of pity for the innocent man who had lost so many years of his life to the terrors of Azkaban.

They sat down at one of the tables. Sirius asked them about things that had happened during the summer. He spotted Hermione's Prefect badge at once, unlike some, but he particularly wanted to know everything about Harry. Hermione noticed that Harry tried to talk as little as possible about his summer with the Dursleys. She saw a longing look in Harry's eyes. If Sirius could only be officially cleared, Harry could move in with him and would never have to see his unpleasant relatives again. Yet none of them even mentioned the possibility.

Sirius appeared to be delighted to hear Ron had been made the Gryffindor Keeper and laughed heartily when they told him about Fred's and George's constants attempts to feed Ron up. "I believe you will do nicely," Sirius stated. However, when Harry, Hermione and Ron wanted to know what he had been up to in the meantime, he refused to tell them any details. "Some of it has to remain secret even here, and most of it you will hear in a few minutes when the meeting will begin. I went to see some people and stayed with Remus Lupin for a time. Buckbeak is still hiding there, as he is too easy to spot to take him places. It was good to see my old friend again. He will be with us in a few minutes when the meeting will begin."

Then Sirius looked sharply at the three of them. "By the way, I do not entirely agree with Dumbledore that the three of you should attend. It is true that all of you have bravely fought the Dark Powers and have earned all of our trust. But I ask you not to forget that you are still underage and have a lot to learn yet. Do not let it go to your heads that you get a place among adult witches and wizards here. You are too young to take on a task like the ones that are discussed here, so I warn you not to do anything on your own in the struggle which is ahead of us. I'd like to think of all of you as being relatively safe."

Hermione could see that Harry had a reply on the tip of his tongue, but just at this moment a short rap at the door startled all three of them. They looked at each other, probably all of them wondering whether whoever was at the door was a person convinced of Sirius' innocence, maybe a witch or wizard early for the meeting, or someone who might betray Sirius to the Dementors. Hermione heard the fugitive wizard take a deep breath. "Come in," he said.

Professor Varlerta entered, searching the room with her eyes and then smiling apologetically. "Sorry to disturb. I had hoped Dumbledore might already be back here as I'd like to ask him something before the meeting."

Hermione noticed a look of interest in Sirius' eyes. Harry's godfather seemed to appraise the slim, black-haired witch in short-sleeved, purple summer robes. As she approached him, he got up to shake her hand. "Sirius Black," he introduced himself. She looked up into his face which lay a scant two inches above hers and smiled; maybe she found him handsome too. "I've heard a lot about you. My name is Varlerta. I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts here at Hogwarts."

"Varlerta... " Sirius was smiling now too, and Hermione found herself wondering if she was just watching two adults flirt a little. "Is that your first name or your last name?"

"Whatever. I don't do last names anymore." She grinned, then looked at her watch. "Well... the meeting is due to start in three or four minutes. I'd like to wait for Dumbledore and see if I can still catch him before that. Is it alright if I sit down with you? I know you don't get to see much of your godson." She glanced at Harry. Sirius hurried to tell her that they did not mind it at all, so she sat down beside him.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before," he said to her. "Do you come from the States?" "Sort of - I've lived in New York City for many years, but I was a student at Hogwarts once. Now that I think about it, I guess I remember you from then, but you will probably not remember me as I was neither in your house nor in your year. You were friends with Harry's father, the Quidditch champion. It feels like it was in another lifetime, though."

Hermione saw the door open once more. In came Dumbledore and with him more than a dozen witches and wizards, some known and some unknown to her. One of the first to enter was Professor Snape, his hair still limp with dampness. He shot the three of them an unpleasant glance, then saw Sirius and Varlerta who were wrapped up in conversation. Hermione thought his face turned to ice: his eyes looked like they were oozing poison. She could see the muscles of his jaw tense up, while his hand crushed the roles of parchment he was holding. Then he turned away as if to study the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses that hung along the walls of Dumbledore's office.

Meanwhile, Varlerta excused herself and got up to ask Dumbledore her question. Hermione noticed that Sirius looked after her for a moment before he turned back to the three of them. Varlerta stood in wait behind Arthur Weasley and Alastor Moody who were beleaguering the headmaster. Through the door, more and more people pushed into the room, which was getting crowded. "Hey, look, there comes Lupin," Harry exclaimed then. Sirius beckoned his friend to them. The former Hogwarts teacher greeted Harry, Ron and Hermione warmly, the lines on his young face creasing into a smile. All of them had liked him very much. Lupin sat down next to Sirius and asked his former students how they were, the look of worry in his eyes reminding Hermione of the terrible things that had happened during the last year at Hogwarts.

After a while, Dumbledore clapped his hands and then said in a voice which could be heard well above the general level of murmuring noise: "Dear friends, will you please take a seat? We have a lot to discuss tonight, and the sooner we start, the sooner we will finish." Witches and Wizards took chairs and placed themselves at the tables. Besides teachers like Professor McGonagall, Professor Vector, Professor Sinistra, Professor Quibster, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Varlerta, Snape, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey the matron and Lupin as ex-teacher, Hermione recognized Alastor Moody, almost an ex-teacher as well. Then there was Ron's father and his two eldest brothers. Percy, Fred and George were not present, she noticed. Somewhere among a group of witches unknown to her she also saw Neville's formidable grandmother knitting away in all her dignity; not far from her sat Florean Fortescue who sold the best ice cream in Diagon Alley, chatting with Rosmerta from Hogsmeade.

Just as Professor McGonagall went to close the door, one last guest arrived tried to sneak through, a guest who by his sheer size was anything but inconspicuous. Harry shouted "Hagrid!" in delight, then blushed deeply when all heads turned towards him. Hagrid however grinned and waved at him, then pulled up two chairs for himself. The chairs creaked dangerously when the half-giant tried to support his weight on them. He looked rather uncomfortable on the small chairs as his knees drew up almost to his chin. Professor Dumbledore waited until everyone in the room was quiet, then addressed them.

"Dear friends, I have asked you to assemble here today as you are those in the world of magic whom I trust most and whom I believe willing and capable to take a stand in the fight against the Dark Powers. The Dark Lord is on the rise once more, threatening the lives and the peace of all of us. As you all know, we are alone in the fight against him and his supporters. The Minister of Magic and most of his officials refuse to read the signs and to face the struggle ahead of us. I hope we will not remain unaided long: Once the terror of the Dark Powers have reached a certain point, not even the people at the Ministry can close their eyes to what is happening anymore. However, it is vital that we do not wait in idleness until this time comes, but that we unite now, that we look for help wherever we may find it, and that we prepare for things to come.

"Some of you have already been on a mission on our common behalf. Others have turned to me and offered their support. Some of you I have called because I believe you should be here with us. Yet you all must remember that the struggle we are facing may be a bitter one, that our opponents are presently preparing for it at least as well as we ever could, and that all who are on our side may face death and worse for it. You all know what happened to many of those who fought against the Dark Lord before his downfall.

"Of all of those who are to side with us I expect loyalty. Whatever you hear and see today and whenever any of us meet must be kept absolutely secret, even to those who are close to you. If any of you are not prepared to take an oath on this, they are asked to speak up now. I will modify your memory slightly so you will forget what you heard and whom you saw today, Then I will send you home, not as an enemy, but free to act as you will. But those of you who do not speak up I will consider bound to our side from now on as if by oath. So tell me now, is there anyone among you who is not prepared to fight with me against the Dark Lord?"

For a moment, the room fell into utter silence. Dumbledore held the gaze of everybody present for a moment. He also looked into Hermione's eyes with an intensity that made her wonder whether he could look into her soul. He wants to make us realise this is serious, that this is for real, she thought. She felt rather small suddenly, imagining scenes of torture. Is this why Sirius did not want us here, she wondered? But Dumbledore must have had reasons of his own to invite them.

"I am glad that you are all with us. I expected no less of you," Dumbledore resumed when no one asked to be excluded. "From now on we are a sworn order. Each of us will take on tasks to fight the rise of the Dark Lord. And we will have to turn to each other for help. There can be no enmity among us - " Hermione had the impression that the headmaster had shot reprimanding glances at Sirius, who sat two seats away, as well as at Snape, who leant against the window on the opposite side of the room behind the row of chairs, his face in the shade if you looked at it against the incoming light, "because if we are not united, we will find the fight ahead of it beyond our strength.

"Now that we are all sworn to secrecy, I will ask all of you to introduce yourselves, tell us what you already did to aid our task, or what you mean to do. I assure you that I know everyone in this room to be completely trustworthy, even if you have heard otherwise of some. Minerva - " he indicated to his right, "will you please begin?"

Even though Hermione knew about half the people present at the meeting, she certainly could not remember all of their names or future and past deeds afterwards. The Hogwarts teachers introduced themselves first. She was amazed to hear that Professor McGonagall, Muggle Studies teacher Professor Quibster, Madam Hooch as well as Snape reported of holiday activities such as rousing the magical community. Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch had been abroad, trying to find support for their struggle outside Britain. Professor Quibster, a greyed, ordinary-looking little wizard, talked about a conference with the Muggle Prime Minister who had been reluctant to believe the warning he had been given. Snape told them very briefly about his attempts to convince latent supporters of the Dark Side of the error of their ways. Hermione noticed that, unlike other events she remembered, Snape did not brag. He did not downplay his part either, just offered the bare necessities of information in a few sentences and then fell back into gloomy silence.

"So what about the other thing, did you get that done, too?" Mad-Eye Moody growled at him, his magic eye rolling fiercely. Snape paled. Dumbledore silenced the old Auror with a stare and asked Hagrid to continue.

The gamekeeper's report was rather lengthy in contrast. He and Madame Maxime had visited what remained of the dwindling people of giants in their recluses in the mountains of Eastern and Southern Europe. Even though the pair of half-giants had been met with some violence, most giants had declared willing to support Dumbledore rather than the Dark Lord in exchange for the promise that they could live unmolested after the fight had ended. Hagrid's lengthy narration was now and then interrupted by his deep sighs. On the fourth finger of his right hand Hermione spotted the largest and crudest golden ring she had ever seen. Obviously, among all their travels Maxime and Hagrid had found some time for their private lives, too.

Professor Varlerta was briefly introduced as the new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts and a researcher in magical Strengthening. Hermione thought she saw Varlerta's hands clutch at a goblet of water until her hands turned white at the knuckles when Dumbledore uttered her name, but apparently there was no special reason for that, as hardly anybody reacted to this announcement at all.

"You will all know Harry Potter," Dumbledore said then. "He and his friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger are with us today, although they are still underage and students at this school. However, we all know that Harry has faced the Dark Lord several times, and that his friends helped him when they could. I cannot deny them the right to sit with us in this meeting - not because I want to ask anything more of Harry than he has already done," he turned to Sirius who had moved as if to say something, "but because I am convinced that his place is with us, just as his friends should sit here, too."

The witches and wizards talked among themselves quite loudly. Hermione saw Mr. Weasley, Bill and Charlie look on Ron with pride in their eyes. For a second she wondered what her Muggle parents would say if they knew that she sat in a secret meeting of powerful witches and wizards preparing to fight the Dark Lord. Dumbledore gave the three students a friendly nod, then asked the meeting to continue.

Ron's father introduced a number of witches and wizards who worked at the Ministry and would be on their side rather than hiding their eyes from the recent events like Cornelius Fudge himself. Most of them were unknown to Hermione, although she remembered meeting the chubby, apple-cheeked Obliviator called Arnold Peasegood at the Quidditch World Cup last year. Charlie Weasley had brought three of his dragon-taming friends, one of them a blonde, strong-shouldered witch called Vanessa Craydon who looked upon him with obvious admiration. Bill Weasley talked about his ongoing negotiations with the Gringotts goblins, who so far insisted that they would wait to see whoever promised to be most financially profitable to them before they joined either side. Once those goblins were convinced, he explained, it should not be difficult to get the support of the whole population of goblins. Florean Fortescue offered to look for supporters of their cause in Diagon Alley, while Rosmerta and two friends of hers promised the same for the village of Hogsmeade.

Alastor Moody had come to the meeting with a group of fierce-looking Aurors, six witches and wizards who looked like they Stunned first or maybe even killed first before saying hello. None of them was as scarred as Moody, but nicks and burns on their hands and faces showed they had weathered a storm or two. Mad-Eye told the assembly about patrolling former Death Eater hangouts and spying on some suspicious families. "Slytherin slime, you know the sort," he explained. The room swelled with general murmur. Dumbledore silenced them with a raise of his hand.

"As I've told many of you before, there is no such thing as an Evil House at Hogwarts. It is true that an overly large proportion of all British witches and wizards supporting the Dark Side have been Slytherin. Most of you will also be aware that a lot of Slytherin students have been withdrawn from Hogwarts by their parents after the end of the last school year. This may be just as well, as we can be fairly sure that this school is not a nest that breeds Death Eaters like in older days." Hermione thought she saw Dumbledore glance over at Snape. "As for those who withdrew their children from this school and opened an English-speaking branch at Durmstrang once more, at least we know their names. We as good as know they are on the Dark Side. However, Slytherins such as those who remain with us are not to be blamed for the deeds of those who indeed support the Dark Lord."

Moody snorted as if in disbelief, while all around them the murmuring flared up again. Hermione saw Sirius talk agitatedly into Lupin's ear. Snape stood as if Transfixed, his gaze straight ahead, pretending the debate did not concern him.

"As we have already touched upon one controversial subject, we might as well continue with the next one," Dumbledore gave the meeting a focus once more. "There is one here among us that was believed to be a traitor for a long time, but now we know he went to Azkaban as an innocent man. We have no proof that could publicly clear him, but I assure you that he is worthy of our trust. Please accept him in our order. I'm talking about Sirius Black."

All eyes moved over to the wizard sitting at Harry's side, some friendly, some looking rather hostile. While most witches and wizards at the meeting seemed to be familiar with Dumbledore's announcement as they merely nodded, others shouted in amazement or protest. Old Mrs. Longbotton got up from her chair, her face distorted in anger, and pointed at the wizard Dumbledore had indicated with his hand. She gasped: "Dumbledore, this is not possible. Get this scum out of the room and back into Azkaban now! Some things such as murder most foul can never be forgiven. Think of all the unhappiness he brought over all these families, wizard or Muggle. How can you have him sit here - and next to Harry Potter, too! I've never heard of such tastelessness in my life!" Somebody clapped at her outrage, while others made agreeing noises.

Hermione saw Sirius turn pale while Harry blushed. Dumbledore got up from his chair, trying to get to the wizened witch through the crowded room. "Calm down, Agatha," he said in a friendly voice. "We all know what you went through, what others went through. Yet we cannot let our pains blind us to the truth. Sirius Black had nothing to do either with the death of the Potters or with blasting away a street full of Muggles. The real traitor was the one who framed him for this, namely Peter Pettigrew, who is very much alive and presently believed to be personal servant to Lord Voldemort!"

Most people in the room flinched at the mentioning of this name; many talked to their neighbours anxiously. A witch who had sat next to Agatha Longbottom had laid a hand on her shoulder and talked to her in a soothing voice. Sirius remained in his seat without saying a single word, but somewhere on his face a muscle twitched. He knows that some still mistrust him and hate him for things he has not done, Hermione thought. She also knew that Sirius did not consider himself entirely innocent of bringing about the death of Harry's parents.

As if to protect him by shifting the meeting's attention to somebody else, Dumbledore asked the last remaining wizard to introduce himself. His name was Mundungus Fletcher. Hermione remembered Dumbledore had asked Sirius to contact him after the terrible things that had happened at the end of the last school year. The wizard had long golden hair and a round, friendly face behind chipped glasses. He absentmindedly ran ink-stained fingers along a quill and stated that of course he had quit his studies immediately when Dumbledore had him summoned. He would be at their service. Then he turned to Sirius:

"By the way, old chap, where's Arabella Figg? Didn't you tell me she would be here, too?"

Sirius frowned at him. "I thought she'd been in contact with you. When I did not see her here I expected you to have a message from her. You do not know why she isn't here then?" Fletcher shook his head.

"I do not like this at all," Dumbledore stated. "It is not like her to be forgetful or negligent. Did she tell you she would come, Sirius?"

"Yes, she did. I talked to her about three weeks ago."

The old headmaster stared out of the window for an instant. "This worries me greatly. We will have to look for her, this instant if possible. I think you should go, Sirius."

Sirius gnawed at his bottom lip, then replied: "I will do what you ask me to, of course, but as there may be need of speed, would it not be better to send someone else, maybe send Mundungus? You know I do not know how to Apparate." Sirius seemed loath to admit it.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'd rather have you do it, not only because the special skill you do have makes you inconspicuous at will, but also because I believe she trusts you, something that cannot be said of all of us. We just need to get you a quick means of transportation, a good broomstick or maybe even something that won't look odd in Muggle territory."

"Know how to ride a motorbike?" Varlerta asked Sirius. "A flying Harley?"

Sirius nodded; the worries in his face gave way to an expression of great eagerness. When Varlerta threw him her silvery key chain across the room, he caught it deftly and pocketed it. "You'll find it parked outside the new building behind the lake," she told him, ignoring Arthur Weasley's reproachful stare. "Start it like a normal motorbike. Green button makes it fly, yellow button makes it invisible, blue button is for weather protection. Watch the case on the back, it's a shrink box."

Getting out of his seat, Sirius nodded to her, then briefly laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I won't be long, just a couple of hours I hope," he said.

"Get back here safely, and let's hope Arabella just got a date wrong for once," Dumbledore told him. Hermione thought he still looked worried, while Harry seemed positively disappointed. Sirius waved to them once, then walked out the door, keys jingling in the pocket of his robes.

After that a few witches and wizards discussed their plans. Lupin, Fletcher and a witch from the Ministry whose name Hermione had not quite caught, declared they would keep a secret guard on Azkaban. The Dementors could not be trusted, they said, and everybody expected the Death Eaters to attempt to free the prisoners in there. Snape, blatantly ignoring Lupin, asked Fletcher to talk their plans over with him in private as he just might know something that was of interest to them. Charlie Weasley, Vanessa Craydon and their friends asked Hagrid to help them with securing the cooperation of non-human magical creatures. The Aurors proclaimed they could not reveal their plans yet, but as Dumbledore seemed to know them and agree with them, nobody found this suspicious.

"One of the most important issues for today," Professor McGonagall reminded everybody before the meeting was closed, "is to ensure the safety of our homes, our families, and of ourselves. As you have seen, attacks on wizard households have already started. Protect your houses with spells. Make them fireproof and protect all doors and windows with passwords. Every house must be made into a fortress. Ask for help here if you do not know how to do this. Help each other. Watch your wizard neighbours' houses and have them watch yours. Even if they are not yet convinced of the danger, warn them, encourage them to protect themselves. Do not leave your younger children out of sight."

"Constant vigilance!" Moody roared. Hermione had the impression that the threat of terror made him feel quite himself; he sounded almost happy.

"You should also know that we are doing our utmost to protect this school," Dumbledore continued. "As before, Hogwarts will once more be the haven for those who have most to fear from the Dark Lord. If you believe your life to be in danger, come here. All Hogwarts teachers are working on protective spells which will be no mean task for anyone trying to enter against our will. We do not expect open attacks or even a siege yet, but will prepare for the things to come. If anyone can be considered safe at all in these difficult times, it will be our students, our hope for a future when once more peace shall reign."

Later most participants stood around discussing serious matters or just chatting with people they had not seen for a while. Hermione found this peculiar: The atmosphere seemed to be one of a meeting of fierce war strategists and one of a family reunion at the same time. She stood on the side with Harry, Ron and Lupin, who carefully asked Harry about his participation in last year's Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid stood nearby, listening. Agatha Longbottom meanwhile engaged Professor Sprout in a discussion about her grandson's progress and problems at school. Near the window, Snape was talking softly but animatedly to Mundungus Fletcher, while Professor McGonagall bore down on Varlerta:

"I haven't had much chance to talk to you yet, my dear girl, but I am so glad to see you back with us. It is good to know you have not been idle and found a way to make use of the thing you love most. Still playing the lute, or was it a guitar?"

"An electric guitar," Varlerta replied meekly. "In the States we've got a thing called Rock'n'Roll, you know. It works very well for my magic. I think of it as a wall of sound that may prove to revolutionise Strengthening."

"Just so it works, it will be fine," Professor McGonagall answered vaguely, a frown on her face. Old Mrs Longbottom tugged at her robe's sleeve. "Minerva, could I have a word?"

"So you will revolutionise Strengthening with the high art of music, is that right?" Snape's voice drawled from behind. Hermione could see Varlerta turn to face him.

"Yes, that's right, I sure will."

"You don't see much of a point in modesty, do you?" Snape's voice sounded just like it did when his upper lip curled. Hermione thought there was trouble coming up. Pretending to pay attention to the conversation in front of her, she nevertheless listened to the one on her side. Varlerta did not seem as if she felt put down by Snape's snide remark:

"I think I should give you a bit of a demonstration so you can see what I'm working on. My method is not completely developed yet, but I have already discovered its significant effects on Strengthening. If you want to see more of it, meet me in the old Duelling Ground at midnight."

"The Duelling Ground? That's preposterous!"

"Why? You never seemed to mind a duel or two in the past."

Snape's voice assumed a steely edge. "I would not want you to get hurt, so let's leave it at that. I assure you, I learned a trick or two since we last duelled."

Varlerta sounded amused rather than scared. "I should certainly hope so, as this was more than twenty years ago. However, I inform you that I too learned a few things since then."

"Well, I'm afraid you do not scare me overly much with your electric guitar! Don't trouble yourself by carrying it out into the forest tonight."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be fine with it even out in the woods. I've got a nice little portable battery amp all tuned up so it does amazing things. Come on, let's just have a friendly little duel with ordinary curses, no Unforgivables for now. I'm sure it will do both of us nothing but good. - Meet you at the old spot, ok?"

"Preposterous!" growled Snape and turned on his heels.

"See you at midnight then," Varlerta merrily called after him.

Hermione turned back her attention to the people she was standing around with. Hagrid had placed one of his huge hands on Harry's shoulder, the crude ring on it glistening conspicuously.

"I'm tellin' yeh, Harry, now giants, they's a strange folk. Come down to my hut some time, got lots of stories to tell yeh three."