Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 7 - The Lost Soul

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Harry clenched his fists and spat, "Fucking war." Other than that, only the rumbling of the train and the wind whistling through the shattered window accompanied Ginny's sobs. He stepped next to Gabriella and watched helplessly as Ginny, a soul mate if ever he had one, rocked back and forth with Dean in her arms. Dean, breathing but lifeless, made no response. He might as well be dead - he'd be better off. Harry felt the rage building within him, but something was tempering it, something was focusing it. He gazed into nothingness as smoke streamed by the broken window and a tear tracked down his cheek.

"Ginny," Gabriella whispered, then louder, "Ginny." The redhead, her face wet, looked up at Gabriella. "May I see him?" Ginny sniffed, wiped her face and nodded silently. Someone, a girl, screamed at the door and then ran down the corridor yelling for help.

"I'll get a Healer," said Neville despondently to Harry. His voice was much older and much sadder than Harry had ever heard before. They both knew it was pointless.

"It won't do any good," Harry thought to himself, reaching for his wand and then nervously fiddling with it in his fingers. Then, out loud, he whispered, "He's gone." The rage roiled in his mind as he watched the green hills roll by - it was a picture perfect day. Finally, his mind found its clarity. "This was past forgiveness," he thought to himself and his hand clenched tightly about his wand as he pulled it to the ready. "I'll kill them! I'll kill them all!" He would Apparate back down the tracks and destroy every Dementor that moved. He had begun the wrist movement when Gabriella grabbed his arm. His eyes shot fire into hers. "I told you--" he began.

"You're not thinking," interrupted Gabriella, staring at him intently with dark black eyes that demanded he not be so brash.

"I don't care how many of them there are!" cried Harry.

"I'm with you, Harry!" yelled Ron. "We'll kill 'em all!"

"YEAH!" cried others. "LET'S GO!"

Wands began to appear from everyone.

"Harry!" shot Gabriella. "THINK!" She pulled him close. "You know a better way!"

Harry's mind began to race; there was no time for this. The stone? Was she talking about the stone? Certainly she didn't mean that he could heal Dean's soul using the stone. "I don't have time--"

"Your voices, Harry," she said softly, but with a sharp tone.

Voices? Voices! She couldn't be serious. She had wanted to work with him on the voices, the gifts of those who had touched him at the Joining, but he had chosen instead to spend his time with Sirius. All those present at the Joining on Singehorn's mountain were, in various ways, a part of him now. They had shared of themselves freely, but there were so many that he couldn't sort them out, and time at that moment was dripping through his fingers.

"I can't."

"You must."

For a moment, as more voices clamoured about the corridor for a counterattack on the Dementors, he tried to reach down deep inside, calling to those who had shared of themselves, scanning through countless memories, snippets of pictures that spanned centuries.

"This is impossible," he said with a sigh.

"Come on, Harry! Let's kill them!" someone called from behind. It was Anthony Goldstein. Very well said, thought Harry, but Anthony's Patronus would be lucky to push away a single Dementor, let alone dozens. Unfortunately, before Harry could say another word, Anthony gave Harry the most peculiar look and shouted, "For our families, mate!" He turned to the others. "Back to where they stopped the train!" There was a pop and Goldstein was gone. It was followed by another pop and another snap. Senior students were Disapparating from everywhere.

"Wait! STOP" Harry yelled. "You're... you're not ready!"

"Mama's seen them, Harry," said Gabriella above the snaps and pops. "She may know. Think of her... be her!"

Harry closed his eyes once again and focused on Soseh. His mind dwelt on the warmth of her hospitality and the aroma of her kitchen, but Gabriella turned his mind.

"Coldness. Emptiness," she whispered. "The smell of decay, of death."

Images filled Harry's mind. Images of what was, what is, what might be. He saw Dakhil, a much younger looking Dakhil, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth; he saw himself hanging from the window on Privet Drive, an odd glow surrounding his half-naked body; he saw Grigor looking cruel and defiant; he saw the cold dead body of Antreas, stab wounds covering every inch of his bare chest; he saw death, and then he saw them.

It was night and the only sound, beyond a lone scream in the darkness, was the raspy breath of the oncoming Dementor. Just a few feet away, a young girl was cowering beneath a cloaked figure. Just to her left was a man, somewhere in his late twenties, a dragon emblazoned on his right forearm. Ignoring the man, the Dementor pulled back his hood, revealing its skull-like masque of horror, a large hole where perhaps a mouth should be. The vision seemed so real Harry tried to reach for his wand, but found his arms shackled to a stone wall.

The girl screamed as the Dementor drew in its breath in a great wheeze. Another scream... another wheeze. On the third wheeze, the girl made no sound; her dull eyes were opened, staring blankly up at her attacker. It was then, as if empowered with a second vision, Harry saw it: the glow. He watched the faint golden white light being pulled into the hole in the Dementor's face, if you could call it that. He expected it to disappear into the darkness, but it didn't. The Dementor pulled his hood up over his skull, but Harry could still perceive the glow trying to fight its way out. It was as if the Dementor was shining, backlit by a spotlight from above. "I see," Harry whispered, and the darkness rushed away to be replaced by the lights and rumblings of the racing Hogwarts Express.

"I see!" cried Harry. "I..." He paused. "Soseh can see," he said slowly shaking his head. "Soseh has the gift, I don't, at least not yet. I haven't tried. There's no way I can--" Gabriella's eyes were fixed on his. He knew she bore her mother's gift of sight, and her eyes were telling him that she too must go. "No," he said flatly. "You're staying here."

"It's the only way, Harry," she said, still holding his arm. "If we find the one in time, then... then you can use the stone to draw back Dean's life force." Everyone looked at the two as if they'd both gone mad. There were footsteps racing their way down the corridor. Harry glanced back, knowing that once the Aurors found out about the attack and the flight of the students they'd be blasting Dementors right and left. With one wrong spell, Dean's soul would be lost forever.

"We must go now," she insisted. Harry held the hand clutching his arm and nodded his assent.

On two, they both Apparated back into the darkness. It was as if they had just landed themselves in the middle of an ominous thunderstorm that had extinguished the sun. All was blackness save for the flashes of lightning - wandlight from the attacking students. Harry felt the heat rushing out of his bones and heard the screams in his ears.

"Can - you - see - the - one?" Harry yelled over the din. His voice held hope, but his heart had none. There were at least a hundred Dementors swarming about, skimming across the hillside, trying to decide if the recently arrived wizards were to be feared or consumed. Harry saw a Patronus, the shape of an enormous owl, plunge into a group of about a half dozen Dementors and send them flying. About thirty yards away, near a stand of trees, Goldstein's wand was doing little more than lighting up the small clearing of grass in front of him. A Dementor was closing in on him when three students from Ravenclaw converged, simultaneously casting an Incendio spell and incinerating the creature. Harry's heart skipped. Could that have been--

"This way!" hailed Gabriella, pulling on Harry's arm as she held her eyes shut. She was pulling them closer to the pack. Harry conjured a stag that split the sea of Dementors, if only for a moment, the rift closing behind the bright beast as it passed through. But in that moment, Gabriella squeezed Harry's arm.

"Yes!" she said with more certainty. Her eyes still closed, she cried, "Follow me!"

They were plunging right into the heart of the swarm of blackness. Gabriella was moving more swiftly. She let go of Harry's arm and began to jog ahead. Harry followed, sending another Patronus ahead of her and splitting them away. Rather than focus on Harry and Gabriella, the Dementors seemed to prefer the easier prey near the trees and began to move away. He could hear the screams behind him as Gabriella pulled her wand and uttered something in Armenian. A white glow enveloped her, as if she held a star at the tip of her wand. She pressed on ever forward, her pace gathering speed, but her wand dimming as each new Dementor tried to penetrate her glowing shield.

"Hurry, Harry!" she called back. The terrain was rockier here and they were moving along the side of a hill. The further they moved along the more steep the incline grew, making it more difficult to traverse. Harry heard a collection of snaps behind him; the Aurors had arrived. He looked back at the great cloud of Dementors unwittingly racing toward the new collection of emotions. Just as he turned back to look at Gabriella, his foot slipped on a stone and his ankle twisted under his weight. He fell to the ground and tumbled a good twenty feet down the side of the hill, scraping the side of his leg badly before he came to rest.

He looked up and saw the flickering glow of Gabriella's wand disappear over the edge of the hill. Three Dementors swarmed over him - it was the last thing they ever did. Black blood sprayed all over the ground as Harry blasted his way through, grimacing from the pain in his ankle as he took each long stride. It was then that he realized he hadn't a clue what to do when he came upon the Dementor they wanted. Gabriella had said to use the stone, but how? And how would he keep the Dementor from simply fleeing? His ankle throbbing, Harry went past another large tree and came up over the side of the hill. The ground opened up beneath him, running down maybe twenty yards and then spreading out into a vast plain that stretched on until it disappeared into the dank mist of darkness. Sunlight was trying to penetrate the misty swarm of blackness casting an eerie red glow over the green landscape before him. It was then that his heart sank.

Just at the end of his field of vision, Harry could see the flickering glow of Gabriella's wand. Only now it was more flicker than light. About her were two Dementors, the only two to be seen and they were circling her like vultures. Each would swoop around and then plunge at Gabriella, only to bounce off from her failing shield charm. It wouldn't be long before--

The shield failed, and Harry heard her scream. A Patronus from this distance would do little more than distract the Dementors, but he cast it anyway. He was too far away to do anything else but run, and that's just what he did. He ran with all his might, pain stabbing at his leg with each strike at the ground as if a snapping snake were ever at his heels. He was perhaps fifty yards away when an enormous red light burst from Gabriella's wand, filled the air about her, and one of the Dementors burst into flame. Harry could hear its gurgling cries as it tried to fly away, but instead plunged into the grass starting a small fire, black smoke billowing upward. Harry was now twenty yards away as he watched the second Dementor crouch over Gabriella and he heard her screams.

There was a pop just off to his right. An Auror appeared, wand drawn.

"No!" Harry cried. The Auror looked only briefly at Harry, then set to cast a spell at the Dementor hovering over Gabriella.

"Petrificus Totalus!" called Harry. The Auror went erect and fell to the ground. Ten yards. Gabriella screamed again and this time Harry could hear the raspy wheeze of the Dementor as it tried to pull away her soul. With a great leap Harry jumped forward, wrapped his arm around Gabriella and the two of them rolled away from beneath the clutches of the Dementor. When they came to rest, Gabriella was on top of him; the golden necklace he had given her with the Gryffindor signet - a lion bearing two ruby red eyes - that came from Professor McGonagall hung round her neck and swung back and forth in front of Harry's face. He had remembered McGonagall's words: "For times of darkness." And then he heard the voice of Dumbledore, as if he were whispering in Harry's ear, only the whisper was coming from Harry's lips.

"Really, Nicolas? An enchanted golden chain will trap them? I never heard of such a thing."

The Dementor's growing wheeze was signalling its approach when Harry grabbed the tiny golden chain off Gabriella's neck. He rolled her to the side, feeling the cold approaching from behind. With one last great effort he heaved himself upward, tossed the chain in the air and cast a spell he had never uttered before, but one that Dumbledore knew. The tiny golden chain grew snakelike in shape and dimension, but its head was the head of a lion with flaming red eyes. With the flick of his wand Harry levitated the glowing, golden, lion-headed snake toward the coming cold, and it began to coil itself around the Dementor several times. Round and round, in less time than it takes to untie a shoelace, the Dementor was cinched tight from head to toe. Struggling to escape, the black beast could not move and ultimately fell to the grass.

"Harry?" Gabriella's voice whispered weakly from behind. "Harry?"

He knelt down by her side at once. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"The stone. Use the stone before the others come."

The vivificus stone had not been used since it was charged at the Joining. Singehorn had told Harry that fire was good but love was something far more endurable. And the stone, snuggled close to Harry's liver, was already covered in Harry's blood. All that remained was the incantation: "Bravery, Wisdom, Love."

In an instant, Harry found himself in what he had, in his own mind, decided was an antechamber of sorts. All was white, waiting for his request. For a moment his mind hovered on Gabriella, but he knew he was forbidden on using it to the advantage of another in the Votary. Instead, he called to the open nothingness, "Show me Dean's soul!"

He expected to see a swirl of colour, but instead he saw a swirl of black. His heart skipped for fear that he had done something wrong, but his own spirit held tight to the need to save his friend if at all possible. The darkness spread before him and in this emptiness a stench filled Harry's nostrils. It was then that he realized where he was, what he was entering - the life force of the Dementor.

Blackness and rot filled his vision. Strands of oily fibre hung from above and when Harry looked to see their origin, all that was visible was utter darkness. He was reminded of the crevasse into which he and Sirius had fallen and a very real part of him wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible. He was cold and growing colder as he forced his mind's eye to press onward into the depth of the Dementor's essence, an insatiable need to feed.

At first, the sounds were distant echoes coming from down a long tunnel, voices perhaps, or animals screaming. Harry moved toward the sound and found the darkness pressing in all around him. Though in here he really had no corporeal form, something wet and sticky splattered against his face; the desire to wretch was strong. Then he heard the sounds again.

Yes, they were screams, but human screams, calling just ahead. Floating deeper into the darkness, his foot tangled in something he could not see. He pulled and freed himself and then realized his teeth were chattering. "This is not possible," he thought to himself and now an even greater part of him wanted to return. "I can't do this." He glanced back to see a tiny patch of white no bigger than a postage stamp miles away. He could be there and back to safety in the flash of a thought.

Then he heard a voice, clear and strong above the others, telling them to quiet down, to listen. It was familiar, but it wasn't Dean's. There was something nurturing about this voice, something that made one feel safe. Harry pressed forward. It felt like hours, although it was probably little more than the time it takes a star to twinkle, when he saw the faint golden glow ahead. He ached and felt that at any moment he would collapse and be trapped in this darkness forever. The voice called out again and his pulse quickened as he hurried forward. Against his body he felt the sensation of ice-cold hands pulling at his sprit, trying to stop him, but still he moved ahead. The cold was unbearable, the sense of fear was overwhelming, and that's when he saw him, towering tall above the others huddled in the black muck: Mr. Silverton. It was the same wizard from Hogsmeade that had tried to save Draco's life the year before, but had failed in the attempt. Harry had always seen him as a rather meek yet friendly man when he visited Hogsmeade, but here he stood taller than life, translucent in a golden splendour.

"Hurry, save the children!" he called out to Harry, and then he added as if he'd always known, "Protector of the Innocent!"

Harry looked down to see those huddled at Silverton's feet. They were there, nearly a dozen souls, children mostly. Each was translucent, each glowed bright, though some more than others. The brightest of these was the young black wizard, who seemed utterly lost. Dean looked straight at Harry, but did not recognize him.

"Help," he pleaded in a weak, raspy voice. "Where am I?"

"No one stays behind," Harry said to Silverton. "I'm taking you all." And without another word he reached out his hands and with his mind summoned the souls toward him. Silverton stood firm as if guarding the procession, guiding them toward Harry's summons. First, and most willing, came Dean, then a young girl with black hair... a boy with bright blue eyes... and on... and on.... Each soul came to... came into Harry as if he were an enormous vacuum pulling them in. When the last left the mire at Silverton's feet the older wizard smiled.

"You have done well," he said warmly. "Release us now, and I will lead them home."

The cold was pressing in on Harry once again, fighting one last desperate attack to keep its precious treasure as Silverton floated toward Harry.

"H-Home?" Harry asked through chattering teeth. "H-Heaven? D-Dean needs t-to--"

"Release us, Harry," breathed Silverton as he became one with Harry.

"Home."

The blackness began to rush away with a great tearing sound. Harry felt as if his legs were being pulled backward by a tether that held him tight to the world behind. Flashes of varying shades of gray screamed past, and then with a tremendous wooosh Harry found himself back in his body on the grassy field looking upward at the milky-blue sky.

"Harry!" Gabriella cried as his eyes blinked against the sudden brightness.

He felt dizzy, then strong, more powerful than he had ever felt. But then he realized why; he still held their life force. He could use this energy, this power in the war to come. They could be victorious! Then, a slow sigh slipped past his lips, and before he lifted his head off the grass, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Hhhhome." It was a long, slow, breathless word that sent chills down Gabriella's spine. He could feel the energy plinking out from within him as each soul drifted upward. Perhaps it was a hallucination, for Gabriella said later she saw no such vision, but before Harry the translucent bodies of all the children hovered for a moment just above him. They looked down, smiling when at last Mr. Silverton emerged. He took the small girl's hand and in the next moment they all rose above the treetops and disappeared from sight, Dean travelling with them ever upward.

Harry was certain he heard Dean's voice utter, "Goodbye."

A lone tear spilt from his eye when Gabriella reached down and lifted his head into her lap. Harry raised his hand and summoned the golden chain that surrounded the Dementor. "This is yours I think," he said softly.

"But--"

"It's dead," Harry answered before she could ask. And indeed the Dementor lay lifeless on the ground, deflated somewhat, as if it had been decaying there for months.

The air blasted with the report of two loud pops as a pair of Aurors appeared clad in red Ministerial robes. One noticed the Auror some yards away on the ground still stiffened by Harry's spell. The other reached down to help Harry and Gabriella to their feet.

"You can't stay here," the Auror said, then he noticed who he was speaking with and turned to his companion. "It's Potter!" He held Harry more firmly as if his life might depend on it. "You've got to return to the train. Miss, will you help--"

"Hey! He fired on--" the Auror that had been petrified began, but in that instant both Harry and Gabriella had Apparated back to the train.

They appeared in the corridor of the train, near the rear, and Harry stumbled to the floor when he landed. He hated Apparation, and this was his first attempt at hitting a moving target. If Gabriella hadn't been holding his hand... He didn't want to think about it.

He was a bit dizzy and disoriented, but he grabbed a carriage door handle and pulled himself up to his feet, taking a shaky step forward. "Dean," he muttered. "I've got to see if..." He knees began to buckle, but before he fell to the floor Gabriella grabbed his arm. He looked at her clenched hand and then at her eyes and smiled. "Thank you," he said softly. "Did I ever tell you that I thought you were brilliant?" Her face did not smile back. Her nerves were too wracked with concern as her eyes darted up the corridor.

"Yes, yes," said Harry. "Let's go."

Two cars down there was a throng of students that only parted when they realized who it was. When Harry made it to Dean's car, he stepped in to look straight in on Ron's back. His clothes were a mess of mud and pine needles, and the side of his shirt was torn, blotches of blood seeping through, red mixing with splattered black. His red hair draped down over an arm that was hugging him tight. It was Ginny's and she was crying. Harry's heart plummeted and he dropped his head; they had failed. Dean had died.

It was then that he heard Gabriella give a sharp gasp as she gripped his forearm. He looked up to see her pointing at Ginny's hand. On her ring finger was the golden band Dean had given her, only now the firestone was glowing as bright as ever, shining through the strands of Ron's red hair.

"He's fine Gin; Madame Pomfrey will have him patched up in no time."

It was Dean's voice, talking about Ron. It was shaky but clear and Harry watched as two arms of deep chocolate wrapped around the redheaded brother and sister in a large hug.

"Dean?" choked Harry, his heart skipping out of his chest and the tips of his fingers and pads of his feet starting to tingle.

"Harry?" asked Dean from behind the Weasleys. Ron spun round and, as he did so, Ginny saw Harry. She immediately let out a squeal of joy. A second later her arms were around Harry, tears streaming down here cheeks and cheers rising up all around the train. Soon, they were all hugging. Word spread that the counterattack had been a success, at least with the help of the Aurors that had been guarding the train. If it hadn't been for--

"Where's Anthony?" shot Harry, realizing that the last he saw was what could only be called a herd of Dementors stampeding away from Harry and toward the Ravenclaw.

"Right here, Potter; no thanks to you."

Harry turned to see a very bruised and a very battered Anthony Goldstein. There was dried grass in his hair and a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, and he still clutched his wand as if ready to cast another spell at whomever or whatever might cross him.

"Merlin's beard," said Harry, stunned. "You're alive."

"Cho said you weren't that smart," sneered Anthony with somewhat of a chip on his shoulder, "but I don't think she realized just how daft you really are." He was itching for a fight, but Harry simply smiled.

"You were brilliant out there today, Goldstein," said Harry loud enough so everyone could hear. "If it hadn't been for you--"

"That's the one!"

Everyone turned to see two Aurors in their embattled Ministerial robes making their way through the throng of students. One, the one pointing his finger at Harry, was promptly recognized. It was the Auror Harry had dropped in the field. He was holding the other Auror by the sleeve and pulling her almost against her will.

"That's the one, right there - with the glasses. I'd recognize the face anywhere. Greasy little git." The pair parted the crowd and were now right in front of Harry. "Thought you could get away with it, did yeh? Little prat. You could have had us all killed." Then he turned to the other Auror, a very tall woman with deep blue eyes and an expression somewhere between exasperation and exhaustion. She was about to say something when Anthony Goldstein stepped in front of Harry.

"Do you have any clue who you're talking to?" he asked with a smug air of superiority that almost sounded Ministerial. Certainly, Anthony was destined for great things in government. It was then that the woman recognized Harry, but the other Auror was having none of it.

"Get out of my way, you!" he shoved Anthony to the side, and almost at once there was a rush of students like a wave breaking against the shore filling the gap and forcing the two Aurors backwards.

"What's this?" the Auror yelled, and he pulled his wand. In response, over two dozen wands suddenly appeared pointed directly at him, inches from his face. The woman reached up to pull her companion's hand down just when there was another voice from the far end of the carriage.

"Strickman! PUT THAT DOWN!" If Anthony's voice was Ministerial, the new voice was all that and more. Strickman's eyes widened in shock. He'd heard this voice before, last year when he graduated from the Auror Academy. Everyone turned and saw the shock of red hair and knew at once who it was.

"Dad!" cried Ron, whose height gave him the better view over all his peers. Wands quickly found their way back to their proper positions as all the students tried to act as normally as possible, considering they had just been through a Dementor attack.

"Ron. Ginny." He was trying not to show that he was there to learn the status of his own children, but the tremble in his voice and the look of relief on his face were obvious for all to hear and see. "I came as soon as I heard." Then his eyes met Harry's as he moved past the two Aurors and a look of wonderment filled them. "Harry?" he breathed in disbelief. "I had heard you were taken. That your soul--"

"That was Dean, sir," answered Harry.

"Dean? Beasts of Bulgaria, not--" His eyes saw Dean standing next to Ginny. "I... I don't understand."

"Harry brought him back, Dad," Ginny answered her father's questioning eyes. "He brought his soul back." Arthur Weasley looked at his daughter and saw that she was sincere. Then he looked back at Harry.

"That... that's not possible," he whispered. "Not even Dumbledore--"

"That's right, Minister," spat Strickman. "It's not possible! This little prat--"

"SHUT UP!" yelled Minister Weasley. "If you say another word, I'll have him do the same to you as he did to Voldemort!" The word stung many ears and there was a collective groan, but not as universally as there might have been the year before. Only then did Strickman finally realize who he had been calling a prat.

"P-P-Potter?" He began to apologize, not to Minister Weasley, but to Harry; he never had a chance.

"You're dismissed," shot the Minister, "both of you." It was the female Auror who was now doing the grabbing and dragging as she pulled Strickman by the back of his cloak and tossed him into the forward carriage.

"Here's your hero, sir," said Harry, pulling the grimy Goldstein forward. "He led the counterattack. If it hadn't been for him, I'd have never reached the Dementor that had Dean's soul."

Arthur was still struggling, trying to comprehend what it was that Harry was saying. Nonetheless, he patted Anthony about the shoulders and said, "Well done, young man. Goldstein is it? Yes, I know your mother. Runs a coven in Colchester." He gave Anthony, who was now beaming, another pat. "Well done." Arthur then turned and hugged his two children and then he said in a loud voice, "I'm glad everyone's safe and I assure you the rest of your trip will be uninterrupted, if not completely boring."

With the bickering and fighting over, most the students returned to their carriages, muttering about the battle as they went, and the crowd in the corridor thinned. Arthur Weasley put his arm around Harry just as Hermione entered the train car.

"Harry, you're safe!" she cried. "They're saying you captured a--"

"Hermione," interrupted Mr. Weasley, "might I have a word with Harry... alone?"

"Oh, certainly, sir," she answered. And as Harry and the Minister started down the corridor he could see Hermione grab Gabriella's hand and heard her ask what had happened as they disappeared into the carriage with Dean, Ginny and Ron.

"Harry," began Mr. Weasley, "I need to speak with you about something very important. I was hoping to take you back to the Ministry with me right now, but under the circumstances it's perhaps best that you stay put. Once you're settled at the school, I'll call for you."

"What is it, sir?"

"Not here, not now, Harry. The walls..." Mr. Weasley smiled, but it was not a happy smile. "...the walls have ears."

"I don't hold much faith that the walls at the Ministry are any better, sir."

"No. No, I know you don't," answered the Minister as he stopped to look at Harry. "But this is something too important to discuss anywhere else, even at Hogwarts. I'll send for you in a week or so, okay?" Harry nodded. "And don't worry, Harry. Where we're going no one knows about. Not even I knew about it until just last week. But if what you say is true about Malfoy and the Dementors, and certainly this attack points to that, we must act soon and we must act decisively. It's time to take the offensive."

"You know I'll do whatever it takes," answered Harry.

"I know you will, son," answered Arthur. "I know you will. That's what frightens me."