Choices and Consequences

Harry found out over the next few weeks that Professor Gaarder was a very hard taskmaster. The pace that Gaarder worked was extremely demanding, especially mentally, and the sessions pushed at the very limits of Harry's capabilities.

He'd never thought himself a genius at Transfiguration but figured he knew enough to get by. Gaarder soon disabused him of that notion as they explored the outer reaches of Harry's Transfiguration lessons.

They started working through the school curriculum, beginning with simple transfigurations of inanimate objects into other inanimate objects, such as the matchstick they had transfigured into a needle in their first year. By the end of the first week they had progressed all the way up to the pre-OWL lessons that Professor McGonagall had instructed them in, such as turning live creatures into acceptable inanimate objects.

Harry found this fairly easy to start with, but once he had demonstrated each specific concept with sufficient competence to satisfy Gaarder, they moved on swiftly to the next item on the agenda, with little additional time to practice.

When he asked about this, Professor Gaarder simply told Harry that since he had passed his OWL, he should be fairly competent at these types of transfiguration already, and he was simply reviewing them to rectify any problem areas before moving on to more complex tasks.

The relentless pace was extremely taxing though and, as Harry complained to Tonks as they worked on some strenuous exercises devised by the Auror trainers, he had worked through the basics of the entire five year OWL syllabus in just five mornings.

The afternoon sessions with John Christopher that week had gone pretty well, Harry thought. He finally felt like he was getting a sense of John's presence in his mind in his Occlumency lessons, and to make certain Harry has a grasp on it, Professor Gaarder agreed that he would remain after his lesson the following Monday, and they would use him to see if Harry could detect a different presence, and whether he could distinguish between the two.

Harry also started learning how to push the presence out of his mind. John explained that although it was less subtle than diverting the invading mind towards specific memories in place of the ones it was looking for, and the attacker would know that he had been thwarted, it was important that Harry develop the skill, so as to defend his mind absolutely when necessary, and refine his technique to be more subtle as they practiced.

So far, Harry could only push the most blatant attacks out of his mind. When John moved to a more gentle approach, Harry was unable to cling onto the presence for long enough to be able to exorcise it. John noted that this was another facet of the skill where Harry would improve with practice. He did feel that at last he was making some progress with his Occlumency though, and was thankful for that.

The potions lessons were going extremely well too, Harry thought, and he felt much more confident in his brewing now that he had begun to better understand the properties of the ingredients going into the potions, and how they created the effects they did. He spent quite a lot of time studying his potions primer to ensure that he was thoroughly up to speed on this area of potion making, but began to look into the sixth year potions text as well, to try and get a handle on the sorts of potions that he would be expected to brew in class in the coming year.

They only had one duelling session that week, in which John, Moody and Harry talked about the attacks the previous week, and had discussed the tactics that each side had used. John was keen for Harry to point out criticisms of the approaches taken. Both adults were fairly impressed with the way that the teenagers had handled themselves, and John specifically asked Harry how he would have approached the attack if he had been the one in charge of the Death Eaters.

Harry grimaced at the thought, but realised that John was asking how he could have used a better strategy to make the attack more successful, rather than actually to empathise with the Death Eaters.

"I would have used a more stealthy approach," Harry suggested after some consideration. "Even if they were trying not to attract attention from neighbouring houses, they were still far too obvious, smashing in the windows, and that gave us a few vital seconds to prepare."

John nodded, but allowed Harry to continue with his theory.

"I would have tried to sneak one or two into the building without anyone knowing, and then tried to pick us off one at a time, when we went to use the bathroom or something," he went on.

"Alternatively, if they'd been able to see what we were actually doing, viewing memories in the Pensieve, they need only have waited until we were all occupied looking at a memory, then could have taken us all out without any trouble."

Moody agreed with Harry's assessment. "Not very careful, were you?" he asked. "Someone should have been left on guard in a situation like that."

"Well, we didn't know we were going to be attacked!" Harry protested, but got short shrift from the paranoid ex-Auror.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Harry thought about referring back to the previous week when Moody had pocketed his wand and ended up all ablaze, but felt that for once discretion was probably the better part of valour.

"I've tried damned hard to drill this into you, not to mention young Tonks. You're a target, Potter. You've got to be constantly aware of your surroundings and any potential threats. If you're going into a situation where you've nobody that you trust to watch your back, you have to be perpetually alert. Viewing Pensieve memories might well be important, but it's even more important that you do it in a safe environment."

Harry was a little stung by Moody's criticism, but accepted its validity - he'd made the erroneous assumption that he was safe at the Grangers' and had let his guard down, relying entirely on Tonks for their safety. He wondered whether Tonks had been similarly chastised, bearing in mind she had been nominally in charge of them.

"What would you have done if they had managed to sneak in?" Moody asked.

Harry thought for a moment before replying.

"Well, if we'd been taken by surprise as a group, I think a barrier shielding spell would probably have worked, though I'm not sure Mister and Mrs Granger would have appreciated one in their dining room," he suggested with a grin.

"Worry about your safety first and the furniture later, Potter," Moody growled. "The furniture can be replaced."

"What about trying to shock them into leaving, Harry?" John asked. "What could you have done that would have made them reconsider their attack?"

"Assuming they weren't more afraid of failing and reporting back to Voldemort?" Harry wondered.

"Well the other two weren't, were they?" Moody pointed out.

"I guess," Harry accepted. "I don't know really. I wouldn't want to hurt them too badly."

Moody sighed theatrically.

"You're at war, Potter. Stop caring about how much the enemy gets hurt." He pushed John out of the way and stood square in front of Harry.

"Look at me," he insisted. "Do you think I'd've survived if I'd cared about not hurting the enemy? Look what they did to me. You've got to toughen up and stop worrying about what the Ministry might say, or what collateral damage you might cause."

"So I use the flamethrower spell?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Or a blasting curse, or a bone-breaking hex, or something even stronger," Moody nodded. "You're not going to scare them away with a ticking charm or a boil hex, are you? The Weasley girl's got the right idea - get yourself a nasty curse that people are sacred of. Not much you can do when bats come flying down your nasal cavities and start attacking you."

"He's right, Harry," John agreed. "If at the first sign of trouble you cast something that scares the living daylights out of an enemy, you're already at an advantage. Scare them off and you have less opponents to deal with."

Harry sighed, not really liking the way that this lesson was going.

They spent quite a while that afternoon working on his flamethrowing spell, and had managed some pretty good improvements in terms of accuracy, but was still struggling to get the power right - although he was now hitting the target on a fairly regular basis, even from twenty feet away. The problem was that the flame was pretty much hitting the whole of the two-foot-wide target, rather than a spot around three or four inches in diameter, which was the way the spell was supposed to work.

Looking back on the day's lesson, Harry conceded that Moody had made good points. He was fed up of having to take precautions that were unbelievably extreme for a fifteen year old, but if he was going to live to be able to enjoy his later life, he was going to have to put up with the precautions and restrictions for a while.

He told Tonks about his week as they rested between exercise stints and lay on the grass under the hot July sun. She was full of praise again for the teenagers' efforts the previous weekend, but was also effusive about the way that Harry had handled Hermione's reaction to viewing the memory of Voldemort's re-birth. Even though, like he had said, it wasn't exactly a romantic moment, Tonks advised that he had done all the right things to comfort Hermione, and noted that he was obviously getting a bit more comfortable with dealing with the opposite sex.

"Well, what can I say," Harry joked, "I must have a good teacher."

Tonks scoffed. "There are some things that I'm not going to teach you though, Harry. You have to work those out for yourself," she said, raising her eyebrow.

Harry didn't respond to that, so Tonks gave up on that line of attack and handed him a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet.

The lead story was that the Wizengamot had announced the candidates for the election process. Apparently over a hundred people had been put forward as nominees, but the rules meant that they had to gain a minimum of ten votes in the Wizengamot to go forward as candidates to be elected by the general wizarding public.

The Prophet reported that there were some high profile nominees that hadn't made it through, including former Senior Under-secretary Dolores Umbridge. Only four nominees had received sufficient Wizengamot votes, and the paper ran a brief biography of each of them.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, reading the names of the four candidates. "That forensics bloke who came to Hermione's is standing!"

Tonks smirked at him. "See. I knew that would get your attention. He's obviously got a lot of support from the Muggleborn community," she noted, "since he's standing with a mandate to foster better wizard-Muggle relations, and to provide better support to Muggleborns both before and during their Hogwarts years. It'll be interesting to see how much support he'll get in the wizarding world as a whole though."

"Why's that?"

"It costs money, Harry. There are a lot of wizards who don't think that spending the Ministry's resources on Muggleborns is a good use of funds. They'd rather the funding went to other places, such as law enforcement or education. There's no tax on wizards' incomes, so the Ministry budget is always stretched and is reliant on individual contributions, as well as their commercial departments. The only taxes are on businesses."

"Oh, I see," he replied. 'No wonder Fudge was always so obsequious towards Lucius Malfoy,' he added to himself.

"And that's even before we consider the whole pure-blood issue. There will be a lot of families that would refuse to vote for a candidate advocating such policies simply because it benefits Muggleborns rather than pure-blood families."

That didn't surprise Harry at all. He'd pretty much expected that would be the case. He wondered what sort of election it would be, and asked Tonks whether there would be any likelihood of Fudge getting back into office.

"I think it depends on the other candidates and what policies they say they will prioritise," she shrugged.

"Do we know what they are likely to be?" he asked.

"Fudge will probably stand on the basis that he represents continuity, has presided over a time of relative peace and prosperity, and has had the general support of the wizarding community."

Harry rolled his eyes at the magical community's gullibility, but didn't interrupt Tonks, who was struggling not to laugh at his antics.

"We already know that he's big friends with Malfoy, but in this case I'm not sure whether that will be helpful or not."

"Why not?"

"Because one of the other candidates, Silas Birtles is an old crony of Malfoy's. There's a fair chance he'll campaign on the basis of ensuring that purebloods get all the power, and that wizarding society is run for their benefit, leaving half-bloods and Muggle-borns out in the cold."

"Won't that just set wizarding culture back another hundred years?" Harry asked. "I mean, if you look at the current leaders, most of them are pretty much Victorian in their outlook at best - returning to an exclusively pureblood-led society will take us back to the Dark Ages, won't it?

Tonks shrugged. "Not sure it'll make a lot of difference. We don't need technology the way that Muggles do, and those that want to use it are mostly Muggleborn anyway, and they simply go out into the world and find what they want, like I do."

Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"Anyway," Tonks continued, "Birtles'll probably have a lot of support from the old pureblood families who will be the main wielders of power under such a regime. The only question is whether he'll get a backlash from the fact that it's acknowledged that Voldemort is back, and that a number of his supporters currently reside in Azkaban."

"You mean people won't want to be seen supporting him?"

"Exactly, Harry. Most of those who support the same agenda as You-Know-Who don't display it openly. Birtles won't get a lot of vocal support in the open, but I bet that a lot of people back him once we actually go to the polls."

"Cowards," Harry interrupted.

"If Malfoy and his ilk publicly back Fudge though, that might take a lot of Birtles's support away. Even that could depend on how long Malfoy remains in Azkaban though - if he's still there on election day, that might be another big bonus for Fudge, simply because he can claim responsibility for helping to put Death Eaters in prison,"

"So he wins either way?" Harry asked incredulously.

Tonks shook her head. "It's never straightforward with politics. I barely passed that section of my Auror training and evaluation. There're too many ifs and buts to be able to tell who's likely to end up as Minister."

"You need to study politics as well, to be an Auror?"

"Yeah, there's one section of the course that covers politics and wizarding law, but you need to pass both parts to get through it," she informed him.

Harry had already been having second thoughts about wanting to be an Auror after he left Hogwarts, and the more he heard, the less he felt he would enjoy the job. Perhaps the fake Moody had instilled something in him that rang a little bit false now he knew a bit more abut what Aurors actually did, and he should think about another career choice.

He stopped worrying about that though, and turned back to the Prophet.

"So the fourth candidate, Madam Bones, what will she be standing for?" he asked.

"Probably primarily on law and order," Tonks guessed. "As head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement for the past twenty years, she's got a pretty good record on enforcement. It's only when the likes of Fudge have gone above her head that there have been problems, like with Hagrid a few years ago. Didn't he get put in Azkaban just because Fudge had to be 'seen to be doing something?'"

Harry nodded, remembering Hagrid's horrified reaction, and the way that Malfoy Senior had railroaded the Minister into taking the half-giant away, despite there being no evidence of his involvement at all.

"Aside from that, I reckon she'll probably campaign pretty strongly on the need to track down Death Eaters and get rid of them, especially in light of the poor efforts that Fudge has made in that direction. As someone who is currently directly answerable to the Minister, she will need to find some strong points where she's different from him, so that she is seen as being a positive yet distinct alternative."

"So there's no way of knowing who's going to win?"

"No. I thought I said that," Tonks laughed. "That's the whole point of the candidates going out and campaigning. If they knew who was going to win, we wouldn't bother having the elections at all, we'd allow the most popular candidate to be elected to office by acclamation."

Harry re-read the article in the paper, though it didn't provide much more detail. The only additional piece of important information he noted was that the voting would take place on 1^st August in Diagon Alley, and goblins from Gringotts would oversee the balloting to ensure there were no shenanigans going on. Harry imagined that it would be extremely busy in Diagon Alley that day, and was glad that he wouldn't be going anywhere near the place that day.

After Tonks had gone for the day, Harry fixed himself some lunch and wrote another shopping list of basics that he needed to stock up on. He hoped that Tonks would be kind enough to pick them up for him again.

He remembered that he needed to write to Ron and Ginny, which he hadn't yet done despite his promise to them through Hermione the previous week. It was partly down to mental exhaustion after his transfiguration lessons in the morning and then the afternoons with John, not to mention all the follow-up reading he was doing in the evenings, but it was also partly laziness - he could easily have written instead of going through the wizarding Histories that he'd bought in Flourish and Blotts.

Ron's letter was fairly straightforward, checking with him that everything was okay and that there weren't any lasting injuries from the attacks the previous week. He told him about showing Hermione the memory of what had happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and her reaction to it, though not the part about her crying on him and falling asleep on him. He didn't think Hermione would want Ron to know how upset she had been.

He gave Ron some details about his new tutor, and how much work it was proving to be, and also asked if Mr Weasley had mentioned anything about the candidates for the Ministerial election.

The letter to Ginny was pretty much the same, but rather than asking about Mr Weasley's views on the election, Harry had something different to ask Ginny.

I seem to remember that when I arrived at Hermione's last weekend, you and Ron were in the middle of a fight. Ron mentioned that he had written to Dean telling him that he didn't think the two of you should be dating. I have to say, when you mentioned it on the train, I thought you were only saying Dean's name in order to wind Ron up - was that the case, or am I being just as dim as your brother about this? If you're on a campaign to wind Ron up I wouldn't mind being in on the joke.

By the way, have the twins been around much? If so, are they still under the impression that I'm seeing Tonks, or has one of you put them out of their misery? It was all really just intended as a wind-up for their benefit, but I have to say that Tonks surprised the heck out of me!

He hoped that Ginny would help him out with the gossip, since he could hardly rely on Ron to do so, but he couldn't help but think that Ron was letting himself in for a painful time if he continued to try and interfere with Ginny's relationships, whether with Dean or anyone else.

Still, it was good for a few laughs, especially when Ginny got into one of her fiery moods at Ron - Harry was glad that he incurred Ginny's wrath fairly infrequently, and that for the most part they got on fairly well.

Coaxing Hedwig from her perch to deliver the letters was pretty difficult. She seemed to be a little offended that Harry hadn't given her much opportunity to get out with deliveries, even though she went out by herself every night to hunt, which was better than in previous summers, when Uncle Vernon had locked her in her cage.

It was another of the advantages of his relatives being away that Hedwig was pretty much free to come and go as she pleased, and Harry left his bedroom window open almost all the time for her benefit.

He tried to entice her with some owl treats, but the snowy owl almost turned her nose up at what would normally be considered a delicacy. Eventually he managed to wheedle the owl into accepting the package to go to The Burrow, and sent her off through the hazy afternoon sky.

The warmth of the afternoon pushed Harry into a soft doze as he allowed himself to relax, the effort of the previous week catching up with him. As he dozed, the comfort of his warm bedroom was replaced by a cool breeze, whispering its way between moth-eaten old curtains that had once looked resplendent in their glory.

Once again he found himself sat on a throne-like chair in the dim recesses of the web-strewn old room, this time with several rows of men and women kneeling before him clad in the robes and masks of the Death Eaters that served him. Three figures stood off to one side, though their features were also hidden by their robes and masks.

"So, once again I find that my supposedly loyal, yet seemingly incompetent followers have failed me," Harry whispered menacingly, the sibilant sounds of his voice carrying across the silent room despite the low volume at which they were uttered.

"I sent eleven of you out to the locations divined by Wormtail here, where you could capture children, yet this task proved too tough for you."

"Please, Master," one of the masked figured pleaded, prostrating himself in front of Harry. "They had people waiting for us. Someone knew we were coming."

"Crucio!" Harry screamed, pointing his wand at the Death Eater who had spoken, and watched mercilessly as the man writhed around in agony on the floor, knocking over at least two of his compatriots who dared not even move whilst he performed the torture. "That is not a good enough reason for your failure," he said, finally ending the curse.

"Four of you were sent to capture the Granger girl, who was supposed to be alone for the weekend, and only two returned." Harry turned at this point to one man in particular. "Todd, please tell me that you weren't defeated by a single Muggleborn teenager."

"We weren't, Master," the man addressed as Todd replied nervously, cowering under Harry's gaze. "There were five of them in the house, including an Auror. Goyle and Travers went in through the back of the house, and Robinson and I went through the front. By the time we got in, the other two had already been disposed of, and we found ourselves outnumbered five to two."

"And yet you return without so much as a scratch on you. It doesn't look as though you put up much of a fight, Todd," Harry noted, his temper rising at the fools that he had working for him. Didn't they realise how easily he saw through their lies and the justifications of their cowardly behaviour? "Didn't you even try and fight them?" he asked dangerously.

"Uh ... uh ... " stuttered Todd, knowing what was about to come.

"Crucio!" Harry screeched again. "You worthless imbecile! You are supposed to be Death Eaters, sowing fear and loathing in the minds of Muggleborns and those who support them, not running away at the slightest indication of danger to your precious hides." Harry kept the curse on Todd for well over a minute as he unleashed his rage on the hapless man.

"This was supposed to be the start of our new era of dominance over the wizarding world, you idiots, and you have bungled your first attempts to make us look like a force to be reckoned with. If word gets out that this was a serious attack then our hold over society will disappear. How do you expect to have helpless men and women cowering at your feet, begging for mercy, if you run away?

"You had all better perform more adequately in future, or the agony that you see this idiot subjected to will be the mere start of my displeasure," Harry shrieked, indicating the prone form of Todd before him.

"I have another task for you, and one that had better be fulfilled with greater success than your last. My erstwhile spy, Severus Snape, seems to have realised now that his cover was less than secure. You'll have noticed his absence, I'm sure.

"The old fool Dumbledore has clearly found out that his precious Potions master is no longer of use to me, and has taken steps to keep him safely locked up in the castle. I want him. Use whatever means necessary, but delivery the traitor up to me for his well-earned punishment, and you will be appropriately rewarded," he instructed.

"Now begone!"

All the Death Eaters slowly backed out of the room, not daring to look away from Harry as they inched their way towards the exit. Only three figures remained, knowing that they still had work to do and that the Dark Lord wished them to remain.

"Bella," Harry hissed softly. "Bella, Bella, Bella. My dear thing. I have a little task for you. One that I think you'll enjoy quite a lot."

"Yes, Master," she cackled in response, bowing down at Harry's feet subserviently. "How can I serve you?"

"I need you to take over where these idiots have failed. I want you to capture the Longbottom boy."

The mad woman's eyes lit up with a feral gleam, eager to get to the business of destroying the remainder of the Longbottom family.

"Yes, I thought that might please you. Wormtail here will dredge through what passes for his memory, and he'll come up with some useful information for you, won't you Wormtail?" Harry whispered menacingly at the whimpering animagus. "There must be something that he remembers from those years in the same dormitory as the foolish boy that would help us, eh Wormtail?"

"Yes, Master," Wormtail stammered. "There must be."

"Good, good. The two of you may go, but I expect you back within a week with Longbottom, and we'll see just how much use Dumbledore's protections of Potter are then. If I can't get to Potter himself, maybe I can get Potter to come to me, prophecy or not."

Wormtail scurried out of the room as quickly as he could, eager to put some distance between himself and the Dark Lord. Harry smirked grimly as he used Legilimancy on his servant. He could sense Pettigrew's worry that he would be able to help Lestrange very little, and the fear of his Master's response to their possible failure.

Lestrange moved more slowly, though barely more gracefully, with a glint in her eye the only sign of her increasing anticipation for the agonies she intended to inflict upon Neville Longbottom.

Harry turned his attention to the one remaining figure. Unlike the others who had attended the Dark Lord this night, this man though robed and masked like the Death Eaters, had not yet become one of his minions. His usefulness came not from his blind devotion to the Dark Lord's cause, but from another attribute that he valued - the ability to provide information.

"Well then, what have you got for me?" Harry's sibilant tones echoed across the room venomously. "It had better be good, for I am not happy with the way events occurred last weekend."

"Two things really," the man said, without the trepidation that had coloured the voices of others that evening. "Firstly, and you're not going to like this, they screwed up worse than they'll admit. Four of those you were after, Potter, the two Weasleys and the Mudblood were the ones who fought off the four that attacked the Granger house."

Where he had previously had no recognition of the man's voice, Harry now had a nagging feeling that he'd heard it somewhere before, perhaps even recently, but couldn't put his finger on when or where. It didn't help that his emotions were running high as the man detailed the failures of the Death Eaters in their assigned tasks.

"The damn fools!" Harry's temper began to rise again at the way his Death Eaters had botched their attempts the previous weekend.

"Secondly, although it looks as though the centre ground in the election is going to be split between that idiot Fudge and the law enforcement witch Bones, the latter might be in a little bit of trouble."

"Oh? Tell me more."

"Fudge made the typical politician's gambit of appealing to popular sympathy, in this case by authorising an award for the Potter kid. The kid turned it down though, and basically called him on using it as a ploy to garner votes."

"And how is that supposed to help me?" Harry questioned, growing a little tired of the circumlocution.

"Potter brings up the subject of how his godfather, one Sirius Black, was placed in Azkaban without a trial. Bones was head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, even back then, so if the press were to get word of this, she would probably take the blame.

"The question is whether you want to bolster the idiot Fudge, who'll probably get re-elected if the middle ground is uncontested and who seems to be pretty easy to manipulate if what Lucius Malfoy has gotten away with over the years is anything to go by, or if you want to keep the middle ground divided so your own candidate stands a better chance of winning."

Harry thought carefully for a moment before replying.

"Let me consider this further. I'll have someone let you know later this week one way or the other."

The man nodded, and turned to leave.

"Thank you," Harry said, the words seeming very strange coming out of his mouth as he considered the man leaving him. "It's always good to have ... opportunities ... to consider," he added, largely to himself.

Harry woke in a sweat, a mixture of horror and intrigue filtering through into his mind. It was unlike Voldemort to be playing politics when he could use direct action, but the way that his Death Eaters had failed him the previous weekend obviously left him with little choice.

He was worried about Neville though. If Bellatrix Lestrange was dead set on getting hold of his friend, he was probably going to be in serious trouble. Harry recalled the way that she tortured Neville with the Cruciatus curse without even breaking sweat when they had tangled at the Ministry, and she had blatantly enjoyed the agony that she imparted.

Harry didn't like to think what could have made her that way, but was relieved that, even though his fury had taken him to new depths in trying to cast the Cruciatus on Bellatrix herself, it had been in rage, not cold-blooded and calculatingly. He wondered whether it had been Azkaban that had cause the cruel streak, but then rejected that, remembering the scene in Dumbledore's Pensieve of the Lestranges' trial, and how she had been proud of torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity. No, there had been something about her, even then, which defied the grasp of sanity.

Although the afternoon sun had now sunk low in the sky and the air had begun to cool somewhat, it was still relatively warm, and Harry found it hard to reconcile the tranquil summer evening with the vision that he had just seen, as though they were two totally separate worlds. 'This is what we're fighting for,' he thought. 'To keep this world calm so that people can continue to enjoy their summer evenings'.

He needed to alert Professor Dumbledore. At the very least he would want to warn Neville and his Gran that they were likely to be targeted, but Harry hoped that the Order would also be able to provide some protection too.

Running down the stairs to the living room, he was incongruously glad that he didn't actually need to start a fire going in the warmth of the evening, needless to mention the mess he would have to clean up before Aunt Petunia got home.

He tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the hearth and knelt as it burst into emerald sparks in front of him. Poking his head into the fire, he called "Headmaster's office," as Dumbledore had instructed and found the world spinning around him as he completed the connection. He closed his eyes to fight off the nausea that came over him, and only opened them again when a cool breeze signalled that he'd arrived somewhere else.

Taking a deep breath, he looked into Dumbledore's office to find that he couldn't actually see the Headmaster. The room was furnished in its normal fashion, and from the low angle of the fireplace it appeared just as it had on Harry's previous visits, only with no Dumbledore gazing kindly over his half-moon spectacles with a twinkle in his eye, or as Harry had seemed to see more and more often, a serious and slightly haunted look.

He panicked a little, wondering what he should do with Dumbledore not there. He wasn't able to use the Floo to actually travel to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore had been keen for him to get in contact quickly in cases like this. He tried to wrack his brain for an alternative, and finally remembered that he could try Professor McGonagall's office as well.

He pulled his head back out of the fire, which immediately went out, and Harry cursed himself for not simply instructing the Floo to redirect. He reached up to the mantelpiece and grabbed another pinch of Floo powder, re-establishing the green sparks and calling out his revised destination point.

To his relief, not only was McGonagall in her office, but Dumbledore was there with her too.

"Hello? Oh! I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said as the room came into view.

The Headmaster and his deputy had been sat either side of the desk in McGonagall's small office, but immediately rose in concern at Harry's voice, and turned their attention to his head in the fireplace, kneeling down in front of the hearth to speak to him.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him, worry tingeing his voice.

"I had another vision, sir. I think Neville might be in danger."

He explained what he had seen through Voldemort's eyes in his vision, and how Bellatrix Lestrange had been given the task of capturing Neville. He explained further about the mysterious unnamed man as well, and the consequences that leaking Harry's letter to the press might have for the election.

"He said something about Snape, too!"

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected.

"Something about how you know that your spy knows he's blown his cover and can't go back," Harry pressed on. "He sent a whole load of Death Eaters out with the instruction to find Snape, Professor Snape I mean, and take him to Voldemort."

Surprisingly to Harry, Dumbledore seemed more interested in the information that the Dark Lord was apparently on of the candidates for Minister than what might happen to the Longbottoms or even to Professor Snape, though he could see from the expression on McGonagall's face that her concern was primarily for Neville's safety.

"Really, Headmaster!" the stern witch reprimanded him. "We must take steps to ensure that Mister Longbottom and his family are kept safe! No use worrying about the Minister!"

"Yes, yes, Minerva. Quite. But this is important too," he said distractedly. "I must enquire into his background," he added, to noone in particular.

McGonagall nudged him with her elbow and indicated Harry's head in the flames before them.

"Thank you for this, Harry," Dumbledore said as Harry came to the end of his report. "This is very helpful. I'll make sure the appropriate arrangements are in place to protect Mister Longbottom and his grandmother, rest assured," he noted, with a sideways glance at Professor McGonagall, whose brow was furrowed in concern.

"Did you have any clues as to who this unknown man was, Harry?" McGonagall asked.

"The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but all I can say is that it wasn't someone I know particularly well. I know I should remember it from somewhere, but I don't know where," he said with resignation and no little annoyance at himself for his inability to recall the owner of the voice.

"Don't worry, Harry," Dumbledore advised. "It will come to you at some point. Let me know when it comes back to you."

Harry nodded his agreement. Someone the Dark Lord treated almost as an equal was not someone to be trifled with. It didn't bode well for the future that there were more people out there aside from the Death Eaters apparently looking to Voldemort for leadership or power.

The two professors bade Harry a good evening, after somewhat belatedly enquiring into his health and ensuring that he didn't need any medical attention, and returned to their discussions, so Harry pulled his head back out of the fire and returned to his room.

The next week started off with Professor Gaarder teaching Harry the basics of conjuration as an extension of his Transfiguration work. This was something that was normally covered very briefly in the NEWT level course, and of course Harry had seen Professor Dumbledore use the skill many times, seemingly with great ease.

The lessons proceeded fairly well, and by the end of the week Harry had managed to conjure objects that lasted a fair few minutes before disappearing. Gaarder was quite content will Harry's progress, even though he was still pushing him very hard mentally, and assured him that as he grew more used to using the spells he would find it considerably easier and the conjured items would last much longer.

Harry was also pleased to learn that his Occlumency skills had developed further than he had thought. The first afternoon that Gaarder stayed behind to help John Christopher with the lessons, Harry had an epiphany. The reason he hadn't been able to get a feel for John's mental presence for such a long time was simply because he hadn't anything to compare it with. When Gaarder performed Legilimancy on him, he was instantly aware of the differences between the two awarenesses, and the tones that flavoured them.

John's presence had a much more relaxed feel to it. Harry could only describe it as a warm smoothness, and that the buzzing that it produced was soft and fuzzy. Gaarder's presence was distinctly different. It had a more bitter or acrid nature and was tinged with a spiky sharpness that bristled up against Harry's mind.

John was relieved that his efforts had paid off, and worked with Harry and Professor Gaarder on picking up nuances of character between the two presences, and how the teacher's moods affected how it felt to Harry two afternoons that week. This left Harry feeling as though he could actually master Occlumency, and cleared away any doubts he'd had over the previous couple of weeks.

He'd made some advances in pushing the invading mind away, too, and started to get a hold on the mental presence that each of his tutors were projecting and pushing it away, even with the more subtle attacks that they had begun to use to evaluate his defences.

The potions work also seemed to be going well, and Harry's confidence in his abilities was much improved. The only area of his training that he felt frustrated with was the continual practicing of both his flamethrowing spell and a few other new ones that John and Moody had taught him that he was doing in his duelling lessons. It wasn't so much his progress with the spellcasting that was the issue - in fact his accuracy and power has improved considerably, to the extent that he was now hitting the centre of his target with a carefully controlled level of power. The problem was that he spent the vast majority of his time practicing the spells against the target, and not developing his duelling abilities or tactics in other ways and it was starting to become a little tedious.

He'd voiced this concern with John, who had been unperturbed by Harry's frustrations.

"We'll have plenty of chance later in the summer to broaden your tactical repertoire and work on your agility and tactics in the duelling circle, Harry," he pointed out. "For now I'd prefer you to concentrate on these spells - remember what we talked about last week?"

"Yeah," Harry accepted. "I need a couple of big, damaging spells to scare nasties off with."

"Exactly. Now your flamethrower is a really good one, but these other two," he said, referring to the modified blasting spell that worked specifically on flesh and bone, and a powerful freezing hex, "are likely to be of help."

"It's just getting a bit boring, John," he pointed out, a little disgruntled. "Wouldn't it make more sense to concentrate on physically fighting, bearing in mind the attack at the Grangers'?"

"Let's get your range and power control a bit longer, Harry," John insisted. "If you're still bored with it next week, I'll change it up a bit, okay?"

Away from his tutoring, Harry had taken a short trip with Tonks to a local supermarket to pick up a few odds and ends, and had spent a good part of the weekend working with her to modify the exercises he'd been using so that they more closely resembled workouts that the Aurors used. Tonks complimented him on the way that he'd started to get some tone into his muscles, and of course teased him about the effect he would have on the girls when he got back to school.

He'd had replies to his letters from Ron and Ginny as well. Ron had been excited about the fact that Fabian Gaarder was tutoring Harry, and now remembered that it was Gaarder who he had read about that had developed a form of remote casting. Harry couldn't believe that this was a coincidence, yet he was sure that he'd never mentioned his new-found skill to Professor Dumbledore prior to his journey to Durmstrang to engage Gaarder on Harry's behalf. He resolved to ask Professor Gaarder when they next met, but had been met with a shrug of the shoulders from his tutor, and a suggestion that they start working on that as well given sufficient time.

Ron had also noted that Mrs Weasley had been in touch with Professor Dumbledore to ask if Harry would be able to visit The Burrow for his birthday. Harry sincerely hoped that Dumbledore would give his approval. He had suggested earlier in the holiday that a few trips out wouldn't be a problem, and he'd allowed Harry out to Diagon Alley and to Hermione's.

For once he was actually looking forward to his birthday, since he was sure that even if he wasn't at The Burrow, Dumbledore would at least allowed Ron, Hermione or Ginny to visit for the afternoon, if their parents agreed. That thought seemed a little alien to Harry, who'd never been allowed visitors before. He couldn't really imagine showing the Weasleys or Hermione around the house for some reason, but he shook that feeling off fairly quickly - with any luck he would be at The Burrow anyway.

Apparently Mr Weasley had been intrigued at Harry's interest in the election, and was looking forward to discussing it with him next time they met. Ron said that his father expected it to be a fairly close race, especially since the four candidates had widely differing views about the way they wanted wizarding society to go forward, and the split in the ideologies was fairly even.

Ginny's letter had been equally enlightening, not least because she confirmed that the twins were very much convinced that Harry and Tonks were dating after their little performance at the shop in Diagon Alley. She said that she had let them continue to believe that, since they had been so impressed by it, but that she'd needed to pull Ron to one side first so that he didn't spoil the joke.

It's so entertaining, she had written, I made some stuff up about the two of you being so cute together and how you let Tonks sleep on you on the train. I'm just enjoying seeing the two of them so well and truly pranked without even knowing about it and I really can't wait for you to get here, so that you can see the expressions on their faces. It's almost as though they are in awe of you.

It's difficult for me to say this, but I half want to see you turn up here with Tonks and snog right in front of them again, just to see their reaction, but I guess I'll just have to be content to be there when you finally tell them it was just a wind-up.

Speaking of snogging and wind-ups, I should let you know that I was indeed just getting at Ron when I suggested I was seeing Dean Thomas. Harry's stomach gave a strange sort of lurch reading this, though he wasn't exactly sure why. It's a real pain in the arse being Ron's 'little sister' - he treats me like I'm still about six years old, and it gets really boring, really quickly. Michael could never understand why I didn't tell Ron about he and I going out, but I'm sure you saw his reaction!

Harry half-remembered Ron's reaction when Hermione had mentioned that Ginny was seeing Michael. He'd been a little preoccupied at the time with the thought that Cho might actually like him, but he definitely recalled that Ron's first words had been something about not liking the poor guy.

Thinking back to Tonks's continual urgings to consider the girls he knew as potential girlfriends, he thought about how Ginny might fit that role. She was certainly independent, and didn't have problems with him being the Boy-who-Lived, which he figured surmounted one of the most significant issues that he expected to come across. Of course, she also had a fairly short temper, and was inclined to take him down a peg or two if she felt he needed it.

She was pretty, too - not like Cho in her dark, smouldering and athletic way, but with her fiery long hair reflecting the light and her enthusiasm simmering under the surface, perhaps tempered by the knowledge of what facing true evil was like, she still caught the eye. She'd also filled out in ways that Hermione, for example, hadn't. He got a bit of a warm, flushed, feeling as he thought about Ginny in that way, and deliberately put those thoughts to one side for another time. It would be very difficult telling Ginny that she had to be protected - he remembered back to June when she had insisted on going to the Ministry with Harry over his and Ron's protestations, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to have to worry about someone else putting themself in harm's way for his sake.

Harry had scribbled off responses to both letters, assuring them that Dumbledore was bound to let him visit for his birthday, telling Ron what little he'd gleaned from Gaarder about the remote wand use, and letting Ginny know that her secret, if it was still a secret, was safe with him. He suspected that Hermione knew already, but still wasn't going to mention it to anyone anyway.

The weekend came around again very soon. With his time spent between training with Professor Gaarder and John Christopher, working on the exercises Tonks had helped him with and reading ahead into his sixth year course texts, the days passed by fairly quickly.

On Sunday though, it was apparent that something was up. Rather than immediately joining in with Harry's exercises, Tonks simply slumped to the floor next to him as she made her presence known.

"What's up?" Harry had asked, as the young Auror stared up at him somewhat disgruntledly.

"Been on double duty," she told him, pulling a face. "It's been a long night."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well firstly I was on duty for the Order yesterday evening at the Longbottoms' place, and we had a Pettigrew sighting, which involved us chasing round half the county. Then I got called into the Ministry by Kingsley to answer some questions for an inquiry," she explained. "Seems like your little letter to our not-especially-esteemed Minister has found a slightly more public audience than you intended."

She threw a copy of the Sunday Prophet at Harry, and he sat down to look at the headline.

'Minster accused in Order of Merlin rejection, Candidate withdraws!' the banner at the top of the page announced, followed by a tag line in smaller lettering: 'Full inquiry into Black/Pettigrew case to be launched.' The whole of the front page was given over to Harry's letter to Fudge rejecting the Order of Merlin he had been awarded, and all the questions he had raised about Sirius's innocence.

The Prophet had printed the whole of his letter verbatim, and a good number of additional pages were devoted to discussing the issues that Harry had raised. His full and frank interview from the previous school year was unearthed once more, highlighting the points that indicated Pettigrew's continuing existence, and debating whether what Harry had told the world was the whole, unvarnished, truth, whether he had employed some creative licence, or whether in fact there were some parts that simply didn't make sense.

Further to this it appeared that Amelia Bones had elected to withdraw from the ministerial election. She'd given a full interview with the newspaper that explained her decision to stand down. As head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, she had been ultimately responsible for Sirius going to Azkaban without a trial, even though she hadn't been personally involved in the case. In principle she could, and probably should, have stepped in to ensure that justice was done, rather than allowing the popular view to hold sway.

In response to the story breaking in the media, she understood that her chances of winning the vote had now been compromised, and for the integrity of the electoral process had chosen to withdraw rather than allow the stigma that might attach to the scandal to become an issue. According to the Prophet, she'd also tendered her resignation as Department Head, but this had been refused by Minister Fudge, on the grounds that the new administration would anyway see changes of some nature, and there was little point in making changes now that might be undone after the election, even if he were re-elected.

Strangely there was no suggestion by the newspaper that Minister Fudge would also be implicated in the scandal, but then Harry realised that Sirius's capture would have happened before Fudge had become Minister, and that his predecessor, Millicent Bagnold could hardly take responsibility, since she had died in office, prompting Fudge's original election.

Harry found it rather honourable of Madam Bones to have accepted full responsibility for Sirius's incarceration, even though she had probably had little say in the matter. At the time, there had been no doubt that Sirius had been responsible for the deaths of numerous Muggles and of course Peter Pettigrew, and that he had contributed to the deaths of Harry's parents by betraying them to Lord Voldemort. Harry certainly didn't hold her responsible for Sirius's incarceration, and was a little disappointed that his intervention had led to her withdrawal, since of all the candidates Harry had the closest association with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, not just because he was at school with her niece, Susan, but because she at least had believed him when he had appeared before the Wizengamot the previous summer.

'Damnit,' Harry thought, it hadn't taken long for whomever Voldemort's inside man was to get the letter leaked to the press, despite the fact that Harry and Dumbledore possessed the only two originals. He obviously had some way of getting into the most secure parts of the Minister's office, to be able to pick up on his private correspondence.

He felt a headache coming on and his scar started to throb a bit for some reason.

"Sorry, Tonks."

"Not your fault," she waved him off. "It's part of the problem of working full time and helping the Order out as well. There seem to be more and more times when I have to pull a double shift."

As with the morning after the attack on the Grangers', Tonks had defaulted her hair to the vivid purple colour she felt best wearing, though this time it was somewhat longer. Her clothes were rumpled as though she had caught a few minutes sleep and hadn't changed them from the previous day.

"No, I meant I'm sorry that you're getting called in to answer questions from this inquiry. What did they want to know?" Harry rubbed at his scar to ease the dull ache he felt.

"I'm not really supposed to tell you, but I can't see that it would hurt, since you'll probably end up having to answer some questions yourself, sooner or later. They didn't really ask much yet, but wanted to know about my relationship with Sirius, with him being my cousin and all that. They were more concerned about finding out who was behind leaking your letter."

"I thought that the inquiry would be about Sirius's innocence?" Harry asked.

"You're still really naïve about politics, aren't you Harry?" Tonks chuckled. "As far as the Ministry is concerned, the first priority is to sort out who was responsible for the leak, before they even think about taking any action regarding the actual content of your letter."

"But I thought-"

"There might never be an inquiry into that, Harry," she told him sadly. "It depends on whether anyone has anything to gain politically from it. Of course, the candidates for Minister will have to weigh up whether they should publicly call for such an investigation. One of them may feel that they would attract more support by doing so, given your letter, but I'd be surprised if anything was done about it in the near future."

Harry sulked a little at the thought that the politicians cared so little about ensuring that justice had been done, but understood that they were playing a game of public support at this stage.

"If it's any consolation, there's more chance that there will at least be some sort of investigation after the election. At the very least, the Prophet will be interested in hearing more from you about your letter." Harry groaned at the thought of yet more media attention, even though on this occasion there might be benefits from it.

"Yeah, well we'll just have to make sure that you have company when Skeeter tries to get hold of you," she laughed at him. "None of this going off to hide in closets with her this time. I didn't really imagine her as your type."

Harry pulled a face at Tonks for the last comment. "Well I'm not likely to be out in public too much anyway now, am I?" he responded. "Good job we got my shopping in Diagon Alley done already."

Tonks also mentioned that Dumbledore had agreed he could go to The Burrow for his birthday, and that she would accompany him there. For once they would be issued with a Portkey, rather than using Muggle transportation. Tonks was expected to be in work that morning and wouldn't be able to pick him up until early afternoon. By the time they had taken the train and bus to get to The Burrow, it would have hardly been worth him going, so Dumbledore was going to provide them with the almost instantaneous method of travel that Harry hated.