Desires In Another Mirror

Harry sleepwalked through the afternoon class (Charms with Professor Flitwick) and the evening meal, unable to stop thinking about what Luna had told him. She said there was more, too. They had arranged to meet after dinner so that she could tell him the rest.

Dinner was a loud, cheerful meal - it seemed that this place, as well as being the school, was the unofficial Headquarters of the Order, since several members joined the teachers and students for the meal - including Tonks, criss-crossed with scars but still grinning cheerfully as she waved at Harry and the others, Alice Longbottom, who seemed to relish giving Neville a big hug in front of his friends and thoroughly embarrassing him, and Percy Weasley, who greeted his siblings cheerfully before going to have a serious conversation with Hestia Jones.

Once they had all eaten, Harry found himself in the Bell Room again, watching Luna as she thought hard, trying to decide what to tell him next.

'Tell me about what happened while Voldemort was gaining power,' Harry said. 'Perhaps it'll help me understand how things got this way.'

Luna nodded. 'Well, maybe the easiest way to tell you that is to go through the newspaper archives,' she said. 'We could go down to the room where they're kept, if you like.'

'Alright,' said Harry. 'Lead on.'

'Of course,' said Luna as they walked down a corridor, 'the Daily Prophet wasn't allowed to continue for very long after You-Know-Who gained power. A few people tried to keep publishing it long after the others had fled, but You-Know-Who destroyed their offices in nineteen-eighty-five. Almost everyone that was still there was killed.'

'Almost everyone?'

'Yes, one journalist survived. The Death Eaters captured her, but she was rescued by the Order. She's one of only two people to have escaped from the Death Eater Headquarters after being captured.'

'If the office was destroyed, how come there are still papers?'

'Oh, she looked after them somewhere else. She kept them a secret until the Order found her.'

'Wow, that's pretty brave.'

'She's a very brave woman.'

Luna pushed open a door, and they entered a little room, lined with shelves full of newspapers, magazines and books.

'Hello?' called Luna. 'Rita, are you here? We just want to have a look at some of the papers.'

Rita?

Harry grimaced - surely not?

A woman came out from behind one of the shelves. It was unmistakably Rita Skeeter, but she looked very different from the prying journalist who had penned malicious stories about Harry and Hermione, and different again from the Rita of a year after that, who had been unkempt and sullen after her enforced unemployment. This Rita's bright blond hair was coiled in a sensible knot at the nape of her neck instead of in a cloud of tight curls, and she wore a practical-looking green robe instead of the garish costumes Harry was more used to seeing her in. Even her nails, usually red and long and pointed, were filed down to pale little half-moons.

'Oh, hello Luna, Harry,' she said, in a voice much softer and sweeter than the one Harry remembered. 'Which papers did you want to look at?'

'Do you think we could see the ones about key events in the lead-up to the takeover?' Luna asked.

'Of course,' said Rita. 'Those are the ones everyone always wants to see - it won't take me a minute. Take a seat, I'll be right back.'

'She was the journalist who was captured by the Death Eaters?' Harry whispered to Luna, as Rita disappeared behind the shelves again.

'Yes,' Luna whispered back. 'My father says it was a horrible ordeal for her, but he wouldn't tell me much more...'

Why they hadn't just killed her, Rita didn't know. It seemed that they had done almost everything else. She had experienced every variation on the Crucio curse that the inventive minds of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange could devise. She had been subjected to things that she wouldn't have imagined even Death Eaters to be capable of - magical, mental and physical tortures that had left her screaming for mercy.

They hadn't even bothered to ask her questions, after the first couple of days. Certainly they wouldn't have minded knowing where she'd put the newspapers, but she wasn't going to tell them, and it wasn't really worth the bother for them to interrogate her properly after those first few days of refusal. Instead, the Death Eaters used her as a plaything. They took out their frustrations and their high spirits on her, any way they could think of.

She didn't even know how long she had been there. When they left her alone, she was tied up in a dark, damp cellar. There were no windows, no way to gauge night and day. They fed her seemingly whenever they happened to remember, paltry scraps from the Dark Lord's table, lumped together in a rough wooden bowl. She had to eat it with her hands, but she didn't care.

There were wards on the cellar, to stop her from doing any magic. She tried anyway - there was always the chance that they would forget to renew them, and that she would be able to break through. After they had left her, she always tried to Transform. Even when she had all but forgotten why, sometimes couldn't remember even her own name, she tried to Transform.

Once, it worked.

Rita didn't remember any of it afterwards. She supposed that, in her beetle form, she had been able to get out of the palace and out into London. She had no idea how she had come to be wandering the streets of Arundel, some sixty miles from London, where she had been spotted by the Order.

Her memories came in flashes after that - Poppy Pomfrey, talking to her as she healed her injuries - Emmeline Vance bringing her real food, with real cutlery - Dumbledore himself, asking her gently where the newspapers were - James Potter letting her hold his arm as she took her first steps in months - Minerva McGonagall showing her around the house - John Lovegood helping her to sort through the newspapers, once Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had fetched them from their hiding place.

She settled into life with the Order. Mostly, she didn't miss the old Rita, the one from before the Death Eaters, the one who had been loud and brash and contemptuous. At least meek, timid, helpful Rita was safe.

'So now she lives here and looks after the papers, and sometimes she and my father put out pamphlets against the Death Eaters,' Luna said. 'It isn't much, but it's something.'

Rita came back out from behind the shelves, carrying a large stack of papers. Harry got up to take them from her.

'If there's anything else you need, you know your way around, don't you Luna?' she said. 'I have to go and meet your father in a minute. Just leave them on the chair when you finish and I'll put them back afterwards.'

She smiled at the two of them and left. Harry turned his attention to the pile of papers in his lap.

'They should be in chronological order,' said Luna. 'Rita's very neat that way. Most of the important bits should be on the front pages.'

The first paper was dated May 12^th, 1981. Harry read it.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Recruits More Followers

Sources tell us that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is stronger than ever, following a new wave of recruitment by the Death Eaters.

'We have reliable intelligence that his forces have increased,' said a Ministry spokesperson last night. 'Also, we can confirm that he is indeed using Inferi.'

The rest was just a more detailed discussion of Voldemort's new recruits, and Harry threw it aside impatiently.

'What about Halloween?' he asked Luna. 'Halloween of nineteen-eighty-one?'

Luna flipped through the stack of papers.

'Doesn't look like it's here,' she said. 'Probably nothing much happened. Halloween had traditionally been a quiet night for the Death Eaters.'

'Really?'

'Well, yes. Why... did something happen on Halloween nineteen-eighty-one in your reality?'

'I'll say,' said Harry.

Luna looked curiously at him. He sat back with a sigh.

'That was the night Voldemort killed my parents,' he said. 'And then... he was defeated. At my house. Are you saying he wasn't ever even there in this reality? He never even went after my mum and dad?'

'Well, he isn't particularly fond of them - I mean, they escaped from him several times, and he doesn't like that sort of thing, but he didn't go after them any more than he did the rest of the Order.'

'And he never... he didn't go after me?'

'No, why on Earth would he? You were just a baby then...'

Harry frowned, but there were more important things to figure out for now.

'Alright, what happened next, then?' he asked.

Luna handed him the next paper, June 2^nd, 1982.

Ministry makes historic decision

Following the attacks on Muggles in recent weeks, the Ministry of Magic has decided to reveal to Muggles the true nature of the Wizarding World. Minister for Magic Silas Drummond made the following statement yesterday afternoon:

"We must acknowledge that it is no longer possible to conceal our existence from the Muggles, particularly after the last wave of particularly brutal attacks. It is in all of our best interests to warn the Muggles of the danger of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. To this end, I will join with the Muggle Prime Minister tomorrow afternoon on the Muggle television to make a statement on the matter.

Harry put the paper down, and sighed.

'Do you think Rita would mind if I took these away to read them over properly?' he asked.

'I shouldn't think so,' said Luna. 'So long as we let her know. Here, I'll write her a note. It's time we were getting back to the Hall, anyway. We'll be going up to our rooms in a bit.'

Luna wrote a note for Rita, Harry gathered up the papers, and they went back down to the Hall, which was apparently the name of the large room where they had met that morning, and eaten their meals.

'Where have you two been?' Ron asked, when they came back to sit at the table with the others.

'I wanted to have a look at the newspapers,' Harry explained, showing Ron the pile in his arms.

'What for?'

'No reason. Just curious,' said Harry.

At the other side of the Hall, McGonagall cleared her throat. The students quietened down immediately and looked expectantly at her.

'I'm sure you're all eager to get to your rooms, so that you can get plenty of sleep in time for your classes tomorrow,' she said. 'So I'll let you go now. But I need to talk to the sixth year Wizarding students for a few minutes, if they'd come over here?'

The others began to get up and leave, in twos and threes.

'I'll see you in the morning,' Ginny told Harry, giving him a brief hug. He kissed her on the forehead and watched her disappear out of the door.

Belatedly, he remembered his brotherly responsibilities.

'Ed, do you know where you need to go?' he asked.

'Yes, I'm fine,' said Edward. 'I'm not a baby, you know.'

'Alright, sleep well,' Harry shrugged, following Ron and Hermione over to where McGonagall was sitting.

'Well,' said McGonagall, once the sixth years had all assembled, 'now that you are all sixteen, you are old enough to help defend the school, should it become necessary. Now, the school is well hidden and protected, so the need will probably not arise, but it isn't sensible to get complacent. Teams regularly patrol the school, particularly at night. You are all old enough now to join one of these teams. Now, each team is made up of a sixth year, a seventh year and a teacher or other adult from the Order. Generally at least two teams patrol every night. Any questions so far?'

The sixth years shook their heads.

'Good,' said McGonagall. 'Now, I'll tell you what teams you're all on.'

Harry listened for his name - he was patrolling with a seventh year he didn't know, and Professor Lupin.

'Anthony, you'll be on patrol tonight with Amanda Judge and Professor Flitwick. Hermione, you'll be with myself and Cormac McLaggen,' McGonagall said. 'Take half an hour to sort things out in your rooms, and then come back here.'

'Yes, Professor,' said Hermione and Anthony.

'The rest of you, go and get some sleep. You'll need it,' said McGonagall. 'Goodnight, all of you.'

'Goodnight, Professor!' Harry said with the others, following Ron out of the Hall and up the stairs.

Harry followed Ron into a room with eight beds, four along each long wall. This was apparently the dormitory for all of the sixth-year boys, because Dudley and two other Muggle students were already there, lounging on their beds and talking.

'I'm not sure I like the idea of Hermione patrolling with Cormac,' Ron said darkly. 'It always seemed to me that he had a bit of a thing for her.'

'Cheer up,' said Neville. 'They'll be with McGonagall - they'll have to keep their minds on the job!'

'Yeah, I suppose,' said Ron, but he didn't look convinced.

'Come on, mate, Hermione loves you,' said Dudley, coming over to join them. 'Cormac may be a total berk, but you can rely on Hermione.'

'Of course he can!' said Harry, bracingly.

He chose the bed next to Ron's and started putting his things in the drawer. Ron did the same.

'So, how are things with Kitty?' Neville asked Dudley.

'Oh, not bad,' Dudley said cagily. 'You know... well, pretty good, actually.'

Harry lay back on his bed and listened to the other boys talking. He wanted to read the newspapers, but he also wanted to make sure he picked up on anything he ought to know about his friends. He also wanted to work out how he had arrived here, and how he could get back. But most of all, he wanted to sleep.

He got into his pyjamas when the other boys did, and fell asleep almost right away, his dreams filled with mirrors and palaces and blood all over the floor.