Choices and Consequences

Professor McGonagall led Harry through the castle to the Headmaster's office, and they talked as they walked.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused last year, Professor," Harry began, but was forestalled by a wave of McGonagall's hand.

"No, really," he insisted. "I didn't mean to be ignorant and ignore your warning about keeping my head down and not provoking Umbridge. I just couldn't let what she was saying lie though."

The Deputy Headmistress had looked as though she was about to correct Harry for his lack of respect for a Professor in failing to use the appropriate title, but appeared to think better of it on reconsideration.

"I'd had enough by the time I even got here," he sighed, "and then I had to put up with her insisting that everything I said was a lie, and that I had imagined Voldemort's rebirth."

McGonagall looked at him with sympathy as they passed a rattling suit of armour on the third floor, and her lips pursed with concentration.

"I know it wasn't the sole reason for your actions last year," she told him with a slight grimace, "but I do understand the provocation you suffered. I had hoped that you would be able to master your emotions and not let that purported teacher get to you, but I realise that it was asking a bit much. We seem to ask a lot of you, don't we?"

Harry looked up quizzically at his Head of House, wondering what she meant.

"What I mean, Harry, is that we expected you to act like an adult, as in fact you are doing so much more this year, than was reasonable. You were put through trials that would have bettered many adults, let alone a fourteen year old, and we should really have been more sympathetic about it," she told him with a slightly ashamed note to her voice.

Harry mumbled a few words of thanks, but then remembered something else.

"I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me in my careers advice session as well," he said, fondly recalling the way that his Head of House had dealt with Umbridge's constant interruptions and character assassination attempts.

To Harry's surprise, McGonagall's lips curled up at the corners as she continued walking.

"I must say it was satisfying to see just how illogical she had become by that stage," she noted calmly. "I have to admit to deliberately winding her up a little, though of course you won't repeat that. But nothing I told her was untrue. If you still have the desire to become an Auror, I'm sure you have the aptitude. It's just a case of applying yourself to your NEWT courses to attain the appropriate grades.

"Anyway, here we are." She stopped walking and turned to the door.

"Cockroach Cluster," she intoned to the guardian gargoyles at the doorway, and the door opened, leading up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office. McGonagall left him and returned to her own duties and Harry stepped on the moving staircase and let it carry him up to the office door.

He knocked solidly and was invited to enter. Professor Dumbledore was seated behind his desk and motioned for Harry to take the seat opposite him. For once, the portraits of the formers Headmasters that lined the walls seemed relatively disinterested in him, so Harry assumed that whatever Dumbledore wanted him for, he wasn't in trouble.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore began, trying to put Harry at his ease. "Thank you once again for interceding with the first years. I understand that you've encouraged the others that were with you this morning to make socialising with the first years at meal times a regular habit?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, a little nervous and hoping that the Headmaster didn't mind too much. He didn't know what Dumbledore's stance would be on keeping the first years separate once a decision had been made about their Sorting. "I just felt that someone should talk to them, since they were effectively on their own. I remembered what my first year was like, and how welcome the rest of Gryffindor made us all feel in our first few days."

"That's quite all right, Harry. To be honest I should have thought of it myself, but I'm glad to see that someone took the initiative. I had a hard time deciding what we should do with the first years, and I hope I've made the right decision. I suspect that some of the staff will not appreciate the larger class sizes they will have to deal with," he suggested with some humour.

"Ah, but if all the first years are in one class, that should leave their Professors some extra free periods, shouldn't it, sir?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "It will indeed, though I've not yet had to use that as a method of justifying my decision.

"Speaking of classes, did you wish to carry on with your 'Dumbledore's Army' group?"

Harry make a face at the name, remembering how it had caused Dumbledore to take the blame for the illegal group existing and forcing him to flee the castle.

"That was Ginny's idea of a joke. It was funny at the time, since that was exactly what the Ministry were scared was happening, but obviously I didn't think through the consequences to yourself of that particular decision."

"Don't worry about that, Harry," Dumbledore assured him. "At the time it was preferable for me to take responsibility for it than to have you carted off to Azkaban."

Harry was surprised that the penalty for disobeying the Ministry was so great, and it obviously appeared on his face.

"I'm sure that was Minister Fudge's intention, Harry. He meant to have you out of the way one way or another, and Azkaban is the easiest solution. It's one that he uses as a default when he doesn't know what to do, as I'm sure you'll remember from your second year when Hagrid was taken there."

"Yet another reason for me to be cynical about the Minister's sudden change of heart," Harry noted with a shake of his head. "I hadn't realised just how severely they had intended to punish me."

"Indeed. Anyway, returning to my original question: do you want to continue the group this year? From all reports your teaching was most successful. I've seen the grades that your proteges scored in the Defence against the Dark Art OWL exams and they really were exceptional, particularly when compared with those who weren't in your group."

Harry considered it for a moment. He'd had a lot of the DA ask him about continuing the group, but he was still going to be pushed for free time, and he wasn't sure that it would be necessary. He explained to the Headmaster that he thought it would be superfluous with a decent Defence teacher, which Professor Silverwood seemed to be.

"Well that's okay, Harry. If you do want to start the group up again please let me know. However, that wasn't the main reason that I asked you here," Dumbledore continued. "I understand that John Christopher has told you about his experience as an agent of Choice, Harry?"

Harry nodded, and wondered where this conversation was leading.

"I want to apologise for not giving you the whole truth when I talked to you about the prophecy, Harry. I believe I told you that I couldn't conceive of any other interpretation of the prophecy than that you would meet Lord Voldemort and one of you would kill the other."

Harry winced at the bluntness of that particular expression, but allowed Dumbledore to continue his explanation.

"I still think that it's true, but obviously as Mister Christopher has explained to you, it's not quite as straightforward as that."

Harry nodded, remembering what John had told him about the concepts he would have to choose from, how they represented the future, and how the battle with Voldemort would be primarily a mental one, rather than necessarily a physical one.

"Some people might say that I spend too much time keeping secrets from people who really ought to know them for their own welfare," the Headmaster noted sadly, "but there's a reason why I hadn't explained this to you before, Harry. The most vital ingredient in the Choice becoming effective is the knowledge that you are going to have to make that Choice.

"Whilst you might have confrontations with the enemy that could instigate the Choice, unless you are aware that is what you have to do, the Choice itself won't be made. Now that Mister Christopher has appraised you of your destiny, it looks like the Choice will be made sooner rather than later."

Harry was a little stunned by this revelation but didn't really grasp the implications of it.

"Then it's important that I carry on with my training," he stated simply.

"Yes, most important. I've had good reports back from Professor Gaarder, from John Christopher, from Alastor Moody and even from Miss Tonks about your developing talents, particularly your mental strength. I have no doubt that it will aid you immensely when the time comes to face down Lord Voldemort."

"You've been an agent of Choice yourself?" Harry asked the Headmaster, almost certain that he would get a positive answer.

"Yes, Harry. I knew for many years that I would be called upon to make the necessary choice, but in my case the situation just didn't arise for a long time.

"Grindelwald spent many years subverting the people of central Europe, encouraging them into war so that he and his minions could carry out their assaults on the wizarding world almost undetected, but he took great pains to avoid me, perhaps in the knowledge that he didn't want the confrontation to occur at all. After all, he had control over several European nations, without actually taking on any responsibility for them, and was able to run roughshod over the wizarding populations of those countries with no check to his power."

Harry wanted to hear more about Grindelwald - Dumbledore's story was a lot more interesting than the History that Professor Binns taught them - but he had a more pressing question pertinent to his own situation.

"What was it like, sir?"

"Being the agent of Choice? As I'm sure Mister Christopher has told you, the actual confrontation will most likely involve a mental struggle between the two protagonists. In my case, I finally tracked Grindelwald down to a small town in Northern France, where he was relying on a conflict between German and American soldiers to cloak his own activities.

"I made the mistake of trying to engage him with Legilimancy as I approached the building he occupied in the centre of the town, and immediately found myself confronted with a number of ethereal concepts that were meant to represent the future. I was prepared for the experience by my old friend Nicolas Flamel, who had been involved in an earlier confrontation of the same nature many years previously, and knew subconsciously when the concepts came before me what they represented."

Harry had understood this from what John had told him, and it appeared that the experience that John and Dumbledore had both been involved in had been very similar, since the Headmaster's description tallied very closely with what Harry had already heard.

"I came out of what appeared to be a trance, and found Grindelwald almost cowering before me. He had avoided the confrontation for so long that he was not prepared to meet me when I finally arrived. It seemed piteous in some ways that the wizard who had terrorised Europe for a decade was nearly grovelling before me for my mercy. Had I wished to, I have no doubt that I could have struck him down there and then, but I have never been keen to take a life in that manner.

"It only took a few moments to break into his mind, and his resistance crumbled. He backed off and tried to run away, but as he did so, in the knowledge that he had lost the battle, his body petrified in place."

Harry's eyes widened at this description.

"So, is he dead?" he asked

"I don't know that anyone could ever tell," Dumbledore noted, looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry, "but there's a town in Northern France that now has a rather fetching statue of a man in a wizard cloak, and I suspect that very few know where it came from."

"I assume the concept that you chose was 'Stone' then sir?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh no, dear Harry, it's not a stone statue, it's one of gold," Dumbledore chuckled, "although I hadn't expected the effects to be quite so literal as that. I assume Mister Christopher has explained that the concepts are supposed to represent a future?"

Harry nodded, remembering his talk with John, and how he had identified the concepts as meaning certain things.

"Well, I saw 'Gold' as representing a bright future, of widespread prosperity and of the Phoenix, allowing the world to be reborn after the devastation that Gridelwald's reign of terror had caused. I had a vision of Fawkes carrying me across the land," Dumbledore said, his eyes going to the perch where the phoenix rested, seemingly asleep, and a small smile playing around his lips as he reminisced. "I witnessed people out in the streets celebrating in the sunlight, no longer cowering indoors in fear."

Dumbledore's eyes lost their focus as he thought back to the time that he had defeated Grindelwald, and recalled the way that the wizarding community had lauded him for his efforts. Much like Harry, Dumbledore did not place much store in what the wider wizarding world thought of him and his accomplishments, and eschewed the spotlight.

Although there had been several times when he had been pressed to stand as Minister of Magic, times when it had been almost certain that he would have been elected unopposed because of his moral stature and authority, he had never sought the power that went with such a position. Instead he was content to use his influence to provide for the education of wizarding children.

This was a position of even greater responsibility that that of the Minister, in Dumbledore's eyes, given that the majority of British wizards passed through Hogwarts, and he felt that he had contributed more to wizarding society this way than he could possibly have done as Minister, subject as the post was to the fickle whims of public opinion. At Hogwarts, his reputation had generally allowed him a great deal of autonomy from the Ministry, and for the most part he had been left to run the school in the manner he saw fit. He considered that in the main he had dealt with his charges wisely, allowing them to make their own mistakes and learn from their failures, but available to provide a guiding hand where necessary.

In recent years though, he had grown somewhat apart from the students, more concerned with the operational aspects of the school and less with their individual needs, and had become a somewhat isolated authority figure. Perhaps now he needed to take a closer interest in the children that passed through his school, and use his moral authority to guide them in the right direction, rather than leaving such matters in the hands of their Heads of House. On the other hand, if he was no longer able to connect in that way to the student body, maybe it was time for his to think about retiring, and handing over the reins of the school to someone more able to cater for the needs of the future of wizarding society. Perhaps, after all, he had failed his students.

The silence between them extended into minutes and through Dumbledore's reminiscences he slowly returned his focus to the particular student before him, who he had failed more than any of the other students that had passed through the hallowed halls, bar one.

"There is something else that I should tell you, I think," he added softly. "Myself and John Christopher are not the only people you know who have been agents of Choice. I believe, though I cannot say for sure, that your mother was also one who carried that burden."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore in surprise. He had heard so little about his parents from anyone. Even when he had learned that Remus had been one of his father's best friends and, later, that Sirius had been, too, he hadn't really had any opportunity to talk to either of them about the kind of people his parents were.

When he'd tried to discuss the scene from Professor Snape's Pensieve with the two of them, and their actions when they were fifteen, there had been little opportunity to have a long talk about them.

And now Dumbledore was dropping something else on his shoulders. Having provided him with almost no information about his parents in the past five years, he was speculating now that his mother had also been the subject of what seemed to be fate deciding her life, and he wondered just how much else the Headmaster was keeping from him about his parents.

He put the feeling of frustration that welled up inside of him at Dumbledore's machinations to one side, as he waited to hear about his mother and how she too had faced the choices that lay ahead of Harry.

"Lily's role only became clear once she became pregnant. Both your parents and Neville's were considered to be in mortal danger once the prophecy was revealed and we realised that the two of you were likely to be born at the end of July. James and Lily resisted going under the Fidelius Charm until the very last moment and in the end the Longbottoms refused entirely, preferring to trust their own skills rather than relying on someone else to maintain their secret." Dumbledore sighed heavily at the last statement, no doubt remembering the fate of Frank and Alice Longbottom, now permanent residents of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"In the end, I suspect that Lily's choice was what saved you. Her love for you overcame perhaps more rational choices, and she Chose to sacrifice her life to save yours. That, I believe was a characteristic sign of the Choice, and her defiance of Lord Voldemort bought the wizarding world thirteen years of relative peace and security."

This was really just speculation, Harry thought, as his frustration at the Headmaster grew once again.

"And in thirteen years they only became complacent," Harry spat, angry that this was only now being presented to him after so many years. Even though he knew Dumbledore was doing what he thought was best for the whole wizarding world, he couldn't help but get frustrated at the way that he'd been kept in the dark for so long.

"That's true, Harry, but please don't forget that the sacrifice that Lily made was done with the best of intentions."

"Forget? How can I forget?" Harry asked incredulously. "You're trying to tell me that I shouldn't blame my parents for choosing to save me, and provide security for the wizarding world?"

Dumbledore nodded silently.

"I don't blame them," Harry stormed. "I blame Voldemort! I blame Wormtail! I blame the Ministry for not doing anything about him sooner! I can't blame my parents for choosing me to live; I can only regret that they were forced to! If I had to make the choice between saving my friends and saving myself, I'd choose exactly the same way! Why do you think I went to the Ministry to save Sirius?"

"I understand, Harry. Please forgive me."

This brought Harry up short. Despite his increased anger at Dumbledore holding back on him for so long, he couldn't quite see why the Headmaster was asking for Harry's forgiveness.

"Forgive you? What for?"

Harry was perplexed by Dumbledore's request, and this took the edge off his growing frustration and temper. He felt deflated as the anger drifted away and left him with a vague sense of emptiness, of wanting to be alone.

He let out a big breath, partly of exasperation but also partly of resignation to his fate. His eyes felt heavy and grainy as though he had sand in them, and a weariness took over his mind. Looking across the table, he could see that the Headmaster's own eyes had lost their customary sparkle and he was regarding Harry with a deal of sadness and regret.

"For underestimating your loyalty to your parents, to your friends, to Sirius. I'm sorry that it's come down to this and, as I said when you were last here in my office, there are things that I should perhaps have told you many years ago. I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you, the way you have handled yourself over the past fourteen years. I know I am."

"Thank you, sir. Was there anything else?" Harry didn't really want to talk about this any more. He just wanted to get away from Dumbledore and out into the fresh air.

"No, Harry. You may go now."

The office door swung open and allowed Harry to leave, which he did, turning away from the Headmaster abruptly and making his way back to Gryffindor Tower to drop off his books before heading to the Great Hall for Dinner with a lot to think about.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Mad-eye Moody stepped out from under his invisibility cloak where he had been surreptitiously observing the conversation between Harry and Dumbledore. Dumbledore put his head in his hands at the reminder that Moody had been there throughout the conversation. He didn't look happy as he stalked over to the Headmaster's desk, his wooden leg clumping on the floor of the office.

"I really don't believe you!" he snarled. "Is what you told Potter true? That you withheld the knowledge of the prophecy and that he was the agent of Choice from him for all these years because it prevented the decision being made?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I've been trying to protect him, Alastor. It's not easy having the burdens that he has, and I have tried to lay them on him as little as possible."

"Idiot!" Moody growled violently. "You've spent the last five years denying him the opportunity to put an end to that burden."

"What? He's far too young to be dealing with it."

"So you obviously think. That didn't stop him defeating the Dark Lord in his first and second year, nor escaping from him in his fourth and fifth years after he had regained his full strength! You've put this off because you didn't think that Potter was strong enough? Because you didn't have enough confidence in his mental strength?" Moody's voice reverberated around the room as he shouted down the Hogwarts Headmaster, and the portraits around the room ducked out of their frames, knowing when it was prudent to keep out of the way.

"You've kept everyone in the dark for far too long, Albus. From what Potter has told me about his escapades here at Hogwarts, I can list at least four occasions where he has been placed in a position that his Choice could have been made."

"But he was too young-," Dumbledore attempted to protest.

"Rubbish!" Moody cut him off abruptly. "The lad's mental strength has been evident from the time he came here. He defied Voldemort by denying him the Philosopher's Stone, and he should have had the opportunity then to lay down his burden.

"The only reason that he was too young when he asked you in his first year was because he was unprepared! When it comes down to it, he's had no further preparation for each of his subsequent encounters," he continued with a growl. "That's simply because you've not given him the training. If I'd had him from eleven to work on it, we'd have dispatched Voldemort years ago. Damn it, it's obvious even to me that something keeps throwing him into the path of this confrontation, and that it will continue to do so until it is resolved for good."

"You've been spending too much time with Mister Christopher," Dumbledore accused the ex-Auror, becoming annoyed at Moody's accusations that he had done the worst for Harry and starting to raise his voice. "I should have known that he would come up with this sort of fatalistic nonsense. I'm still not sure he can be trusted."

"Stop trying to justify yourself. You've done enough damage already," Moody said, one gnarled fist leaning on the Headmaster's desk as he bent forward to look Dumbledore in the eye. "What else are you holding back from Potter? He needs to know."

Dumbledore deflated as he inched back in his chair, away from Moody's critical gaze. "I don't know," he admitted. "It seems that I've made so many mistakes when it comes to Harry, that I wouldn't know what else I'm doing wrong."

Moody let out a short breath. "Ha! Well stop beating yourself up over it, and start acting like he's going to save the world, because it might just be true."

With that final comment, Moody stood up straight and let himself out of the office, donning the invisibility cloak once more as he reached the foot of the staircase and headed back out into the corridors of the castle, leaving behind a very worried and chastised Albus Dumbledore ruing the day he'd left Harry Potter with his muggle relatives for safe keeping.

At the dinner table, Harry wasn't very good company. He made an effort to sit with the first years, but even they seemed a bit put off by his brooding, and for once he wasn't the Harry Potter they'd started to get to know. The Head Boy, Aeneas Barwick, even went so far as to joke about it to the youngsters sat around him, noting that 'even Harry Potter gets in a bad mood sometimes'.

It was only when Hermione sat down across the table from him that he recalled something from the previous day, and arranged to talk to her privately after the meal.

They found a quiet classroom not far from the Great Hall, and settled down. Initially Hermione thought that Harry had wanted to talk to her about why he was so withdrawn at the dinner table, but Harry just brushed that off with a brief comment about Dumbledore wanting to talk to him about his training, which seemed to throw her off the scent.

"Actually, there was something else, Hermione," he said, hoping that it wouldn't be too touchy a subject. "I spoke to Cho and Marietta on the train, and I mentioned that I'd speak to you about getting Marietta's hex cured."

Hermione's eyes hardened. "I hope you're taking this seriously."

When Harry nodded, she continued.

"I don't think we should let her know the cure."

"Why not?"

"Because she betrayed us," Hermione explained. "The whole point of the hex was so that those who let us down would suffer the consequences and be known for their betrayal."

"But to have it still there now?" Harry asked. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"If you ask me, I should leave it there permanently. It would show people that you don't betray us and get away with it."

"Hermione, I think you're being too hard on her," Harry protested. "I know it isn't the easiest thing to forgive, bearing in mind all the trouble we got into, but is it worth holding onto that grudge?"

Hermione looked as though she was going to say it was, but Harry interrupted her.

"Look, Umbridge is gone now - I know there are a whole load of repercussions from what happened when we went to the Ministry, but they don't really have anything to do with Marietta - that was my fault for using Umbridge's fire to try and get through to Sirius, instead of thinking properly and using my mirror."

Hermione tried to interrupt to correct Harry for blaming himself for the events at the Ministry, but Harry waved her off again.

"Don't worry, I'm not building up the burden of guilt here, I'm just trying to point out why we shouldn't hold a grudge against Marietta."

"Okay," Hermione agreed reluctantly.

"I know we took the DA really seriously, and we did it so that we could protect ourselves, but we have to remember that it wasn't the be-all and end-all of life at Hogwarts for others that it was for me. I know there was a lot of pressure on people to report stuff to Umbridge. If someone cracked under that pressure, should we condemn them for it?"

Hermione's face took on a conflicted expression. "I understand that, Harry, but don't you remember how much trouble you got into? Don't forget how much trouble Professor Dumbledore was in."

"I know, but ultimately Fudge and Umbridge are responsible for that, not Marietta. If you want to look at it another way, it was basically me that was betrayed. Umbridge was gunning for me personally the whole year. Shouldn't I at least have some say in rescinding the consequences?"

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes boring into Harry's. "Don't you feel the slightest bit vengeful?"

"Of course I do," Harry admitted. "But not towards Marietta."

"Okay then," she finally conceded. "Have a word with Marietta and get her to come and see me. I'll need the parchment with the names written on as well, so that I can cancel the spell. I don't suppose you know what happened to that, do you?

Harry thought for a moment. The last time he'd seen it was in the Headmaster's office after he'd been apprehended by Umbridge, and Dumbledore had been forced to flee the castle. He supposed it was still there, and mentioned that to Hermione.

"Probably best if you get that then," she suggested, to a nod from Harry. "Anyway, back to what I thought you wanted to talk about - what's up with you this evening?"

Harry explained what Dumbledore had told him about being an agent of choice and about his mum. Hermione didn't look too surprised, which made Harry feel a little bit annoyed, since he hadn't put the pieces together by himself as Hermione apparently thought he might have done.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she apologised. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just think you should take your time and think about it, rather than worrying about it. I don't think there's much you can do now."

"It's not really that, Hermione. It's the way that everyone seems to want to keep me in the dark about everything," Harry complained. "It started with the Dursleys, who never told me that I was a wizard, but it's been the same even since I've known that. Dumbledore held off telling me about the prophecy for five years, even though I asked him why Voldemort was after me when he came to see me in the Hospital Wing in my first year."

Harry took a deep breath, then continued. "Then he decided not to explain about this 'agent of choice' thing and I only found out from John Christopher, even though I specifically asked Dumbledore about other interpretations of the prophecy. Of course, all the adults seem to want to keep information away from me rather than helping me - remember how Mrs Weasley got upset about telling me anything at all last summer?"

"Just one question, Harry?"

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Eh?"

"What's this 'agent of choice' thing? You mentioned it before, but I have idea what you're actually talking about!"

Harry swore under his breath. "Damn! Haven't I told you about that?"

Hermione shook her head. Now that Harry thought about it, he hadn't really had much chance to explain what John had told him. He'd thought about telling them all on the Hogwarts Express, but they'd had plenty of other stuff to talk about, with all that had happened during the summer holidays.

"In that case, you'd better round up Ron and Ginny too, so I only have to go through this once," Harry requested.

Hermione was only gone for about ten minutes, so he assumed that the two Weasleys hadn't gone too far away. In fact, judging by Ron's complaints about dragging him away from his food as he and Ginny trailed Hermione back into the room, Harry suspected that they had still been in the Great Hall.

Harry gave them a moment to settle before launching into an explanation of how John Christopher had interpreted the prophecy, and how ultimately, the choice that Harry made when he finally confronted Voldemort might determine the future.

Ron seemed fairly confused by the whole concept, not really understanding the sorts of choices Harry would have. Like Harry he immediately jumped to the conclusion that it would simply be akin to a wish, and that Harry would wish for 'peace and goodwill to all men' or something similar. It took Hermione a couple of attempts to re-word what Harry had told them to help Ron understand.

"Well that's not too bad, Harry," Ginny said, to their surprise.

"Eh?"

"Well at least it means you're not necessarily going to have to kill him in cold blood," she explained. "Doesn't it?"

"I hadn't thought of that, really," Harry admitted.

"Anyway, I think it's for the better," Hermione stated, seemingly taking it in her stride. "You've always done fine when you've had to battle him before, Harry, and your mental strength seems to be pretty good, otherwise you wouldn't have survived!"

She bit her lip, as she realised exactly what she was saying.

"Sorry, Harry," she stammered in apology, "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he assured her with a chuckle, "I know what you mean. I seem to be getting a grip on Occlumency as well, so that can only help, too."

"You're taking it seriously, this time?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Yeah - I don't have to deal with Snape, so it's a lot less stressful," Harry said, acknowledging the mild rebuke

Having said that, Snape had been much less vindictive than normal towards him in their first Potions classes, at least once he realised that Harry had made much more of an effort to understand the subject than in previous years.

By the time that Harry had explained everything, and repeated for Ron and Ginny's ears what he'd told Hermione, his frustration had worn off a little. He was still annoyed at Dumbledore for keeping so many secrets from him, almost as though he had decided that he'd drop everything on Harry at the last moment so that he wouldn't have time to worry about it.

At worst, Harry figured he could have spent years clinically depressed from the things he'd encountered, and effectively been in a catatonic state refusing to accept his prophesied role. No doubt that would simply have ended up fulfilling the prophecy by being killed by Voldemort, since he'd have had no preparation at all.

Although his friends sympathised with his frustration, they couldn't fault Dumbledore for doing what he felt was best for the wizarding world. Harry wasn't so sure that the Headmaster's seeming infallibility was quite as watertight as Hermione in particular seemed to believe, but he decided not to make an issue of it when it was really just an annoyance rather than a serious problem.

"You look less stressed for talking about it though, Harry," Ginny smiled at him once they'd finished discussing what it all might mean.

Harry hadn't really thought about that, and merely shrugged at the suggestion.

"Don't keep it all bottled up," she advised him. "Mum says that talking about it always helps."

Ron snorted at Ginny's assertion, but was elbowed by Hermione to prevent him making any adverse comment to it.

"Come on," Harry suggested, quickly changing the subject to one that at least Hermione would pick up on. "Time we got back up to the common room. Some of us have already got homework."

Ron brightened.

"Really?" he said with a smile. "Gosh, I do feel sorry for you," he added with a grin

"Don't expect it to last, Ron." Hermione warned him. "I'm sure you'll start getting lots of homework soon. It won't last."

Ron shrugged that warning off, and suggested that they head back to the common room and have a game of chess.

"If you spend your his time slacking off, don't expect me to lend you my notes to catch up with," Hermione argued as they strolled up a flight of stairs.

The two of them continued their bickering all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry and Ginny hung back a little way to avoid getting drawn into their argument. Thinking how much less tense things were than they had been when he'd visited The Burrow for his birthday, Harry remembered the pack of products from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes that the twins had given him that day.

A plan began to form in Harry's mind, and he briefly contemplated asking Ginny if she wanted to get involved in it too, but held off since he didn't want to get her into trouble as well if they got caught, and it would be a lot easier to sneak around by himself.

He grinned to himself as the outline plan blossomed into something a little bigger. He'd have to check exactly what the twins had provided, but he was pretty sure that he could work around whatever he had.

Unfortunately, Ginny had been watching his expression, and was suspicious at the sudden smile on Harry's face.

"You're in a good mood all of a sudden. What are you thinking about?" she questioned.

"Oh, nothing!" Harry evaded, attempting to conceal his amused look, but apparently not managing to do it very well.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I've seen that look on the twins' faces far to often to get fooled, Harry. Come on, out with it."

"I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble," Harry warned quietly with a glance up ahead at Ron and Hermione to make sure they weren't paying any attention to him. "Especially with our two favourite prefects."

"I'm always in trouble. It wouldn't make any difference."

Harry considered his idea further. "Okay, if you run lookout and interference for me I'll tell you when I get back," he offered.

"What would I have to do?"

"Basically just cover for me. I'll head out when Ron's asleep, so probably about half an hour after we head up to bed. I'd just need you to keep Ron or Hermione occupied if they come looking for me."

"It had better be worthwhile, Harry. I can't believe we've only been back one day and you're planning something already," Ginny said, her curiosity now burning at Harry's plans. "You want me to say you've gone to see Madam Pomfrey, or something?"

"Something like that. Say my scar was hurting or something. Hopefully they won't even notice I'm gone, but best to have a cover story, just in case. You'll probably have to tell Hermione that you had to force me to go to Pomfrey, since I normally ignore her when she tells me to."

"Okay, now I'm intrigued. Count me in," she agreed.

His plans went off without a flaw, Harry decided when he looked back on it the following morning. Having an invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map proved to be really helpful when moving around the castle after everyone was supposed to be safely in bed, and he had no problem evading Filch, Mrs Norris, and the occasional Professor wandering the halls.

The only thing that had caused him concern was that one dot on the map, labelled "Alastor Moody", seemed to follow him around the building. Obviously Harry was still under some sort of protective surveillance, which irked him somewhat.

He didn't stop Harry though, or interfere with his progress, so presuming that he wasn't about to go running off to Dumbledore to tattle on him for roaming the castle after hours, Harry ignored his presence and set about his business. He made a mental note to talk to the ex-Auror the next time he was around for duelling practice about requiring a shadow within the castle.

He'd taken a few detours to avoid getting cornered by his fellow night-time wanderers, particularly Peeves, who would no doubt have taken great joy in announcing to the world that he was on an illicit mission, so by the time he got back to Gryffindor Tower Ginny was worrying a little about the length of time he'd been gone.

He'd shucked off the invisibility cloak and explained what he'd set up, and the two of them looked forward to the show at breakfast.

Ginny insisted that next time he had to take her along though - she'd found it frustrating just watching and waiting for him, and wanted to get in on the fun.

Harry had mixed feelings about that. He quite liked the idea of the company, especially since he wasn't inviting Ron or Hermione along, but he was a bit concerned that it might make it more difficult to sneak around, and Moody might think that it was dangerous enough with two of them out and about that he should stop them.

He figured he'd think about it and let her know though - for now he was just waiting for things to kick into gear.

Harry's mood that morning was particularly good, which if anyone had been paying attention should have alerted them that something was up, especially after his dour mood at dinner the previous evening. Nobody was watching him with too close an eye though: Ron was intent on devouring as much breakfast as possible, and Hermione had her head down looking at a Charms textbook in advance of their first lesson of the day.

Only Ginny kept looking up at Harry, waiting for the right moment to arrive, and the two of them kept glancing at each other with secret smiles.

The four Gryffindors had chosen to sit with the first years, though Harry needed to do little to prompt them since Hermione led them there as soon as they walked into the Great Hall. A number of students from the other Houses joined them, and it was clear that the table was going to be pretty full each mealtime, even with the extra spaces that Dumbledore had agreed to.

Harry was talking to one of the first year muggle-born girls about the ghosts around the castle when it finally happened. The timing on the Wheezes had apparently been perfect, as three students from each of the designated House tables suddenly found themselves transformed. Alarm spread across the hall, but only fairly slowly, as the newly transformed chickens squawked madly and flapped their wings in frustration, spreading loose feathers up and down the Hall.

The noise that they were making drowned out the hubbub that arose at the sudden transformations, and the chaos that followed jump-started the four Heads of House to calm their respective students down. They tried a few spells to reverse the transformations, but it proved difficult to get hold of the chickens in the first place, and the counter-hexes that were attempted only served to irritate the fowl further.

Professor McGonagall's attempts to return her three Gryffindors to their humanoid state only resulted in those chickens turning a very strange purple colour, whilst Professor Flitwick's efforts ended up enlarging them to about the size of horses. Meanwhile, having seen the labours of his colleagues come to nought, Professor Snape simply sat back down to his breakfast, and ignored the kerfuffle with a disdainful sneer on his face.

Professor Sprout's immediate response was to run out of the Hall. She returned only moments later with Professor Dumbledore in tow, whose eyes were twinkling merrily at the sight before him.

Just as Dumbledore raised his hand to cast a spell, the twelve affected students suddenly resumed their normal forms. They returned to their seats as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the excited babble and the jibes from their peers.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore commanded, raising his voice to be heard above the chattering around the tables.

"Who is responsible-"

Whatever Dumbledore had been about to say was drowned out by an explosion. Many of the students and staff dived for cover under their breakfast tables, only to peer out again as those that had remained seating burst out in laughter.

A pair of fireworks shot up into the air, framing the stage at either end of the teachers' table, and burst into a shower of red and golden sparks that drifted upwards towards the ceiling of the Hall. As the sparks flew to about fifteen feet above everyone's heads there was a more muted explosion and the sparks disappeared, replaced with a yellow banner that stretched the length of the table, with words in a lurid red:

"This prank was brought to you by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes of 93 Diagon Alley, creators of the famous Portable Swamp and other marvellous magic for mayhem. Owl orders also taken, please contact us for a brochure."

The reaction around the Hall was superb, Harry thought. About three-quarters of the students were cheering or laughing, and those that weren't had either been the ones turned into chickens, who were still trying to get over the shock of it, or were known to be unfriendly towards the Weasley twins anyway, which included a number of the Slytherin upper year students.

All in all, Harry was pretty satisfied with the results. A bit of harmless fun and an excellent advert for the twins' business. The only thing that really spoiled it was that calculating look on Hermione's face.

"You wouldn't know anything about this, would you Harry?" she asked with eyebrows raised. "Being one of the partners in the business and all that?"

"Me? No. Definitely not." Harry denied, though the corners of his mouth kept trying to give him away as they attempted to twitch upwards.

"Thought so."

Harry spread his arms wide and shrugged his shoulders, nearly decapitating one of the Hufflepuff third years as he did. "Why me? Looks to me like the twins did some good business this summer."

Ginny left the table rather abruptly. Harry couldn't see her face, but it looked as though her shoulders were shaking with laughter, and she was trying to hide that from Hermione.

"What did I say?" Harry asked, trying to look as though he'd offended the youngest Weasley.

"No idea," Hermione replied, still with a hint of suspicion in her voice. "I still think you had something to do with it. Ron, where was Harry last night?" she asked, turning to someone who shared Harry's dorm for answers.

"Mmm? In bed I s'pose," Ron responded, not knowing any better.

"Not sneaking out with you to plant some of Fred and George's creations in the Great Hall then?"

"What? Me?" Ron's clearly innocent looking face placed some seeds of doubt in Hermione's mind, and she turned back to her Charms textbook instead of pressing the issue, much to Harry's relief, though not before glaring at him suspiciously.

Once Dumbledore had managed to get the Hall calmed down again, he repeated his request for the perpetrators to come forward but nobody came forward, which he seemed to have expected judging by the light sigh he gave out at the silent Hall.

"I trust this won't be repeated, then?" he half-asked the assembled students, to a wide range of shrugs of shoulders and blank looks. Harry was glad that he was facing away from the staff table as Dumbledore made this request, because he was sure that the Headmaster was staring right at him.

The feeling passed after a moment, and Harry suggested that they get their things together and head off to their first lesson of the day, Charms.

Ron and Hermione got up with him, though Hermione gave both boys another suspicious look as they made their way between the House tables. As they passed through the doorway to the Hall and out into the corridor, Harry heard a faint rustling and Moody's low voice muttering loud enough for only Harry to hear.

"Nicely done, Potter. Dumbledore knows it was you though."

The Headmaster seemed to have some sort of insider line on what went on in Hogwarts. He always seemed to know what had happened and who was responsible, even if he didn't often stir himself to make a fuss about it. Harry gave a non-committal grunt and added these thoughts to the list of things he meant to talk to Moody about the next time he saw him in an environment more conducive to discussing that sort of thing.