Reign O'er Me

Chapter 11 - Another Tricky Day

You can't always get it

When you really want it

You can't always get it at all

Just because there's space

In your life it's a waste

To spend your time why don't you wait for the call

- Another Tricky Day, The Who

(**********)

Harry slowly woke. He could feel Ginny beside him, but something was out of place. For one thing, she was curled against his right side rather than what had become her accustomed position on his left. Opening his eyes a fraction, he could just make out the red stripes of the hospital wing pajamas. Well, that explained the itching, anyway. It came flooding back to him then, summoning Wormtail and then trying to hold him long enough for help to arrive. Harry opened his eyes completely, and, seeing his glasses on the table to his left, he reached for them after checking to make sure his hand was not bound to Ginny's. It wasn't, but his left arm was stiff.

This movement was enough to alert Ginny to his wakefulness. "Hi, sleepyhead."

As she finished speaking, Harry heard several people start moving near him; shortly thereafter those who had been in the library except for Remus Lupin surrounded his bed, plus Albus Dumbledore and a somewhat annoyed looking Madam Pomfrey.

Several of them started to speak, but Harry cut them off. "Did we get him? Wormtail?"

"Yes, Harry, you captured him," Dumbledore said calmly, "and the others there made certain he could not escape; indeed, he was fortunate that not everyone present chose a stunning spell. Madam Pomfrey has already seen to his condition, and Professors Lupin and Flamel are guarding him now." Dumbledore smiled fondly. "Now, if I might now proceed to more mundane matters, might I ask how you are feeling, dear boy?"

"My throat's a bit sore, and my shoulder and left side have felt better, but I've been worse."

"True enough, Mr. Potter; you have, on occasion, been worse. I suppose by now your inability to cross the threshold of Hogwarts without ending up in one of my beds should no longer come as a surprise. Perhaps we would all save time if you just chose a bed and resided here next term?" The mediwitch paused, her eyes moving from Harry to Ginny and back again. "I will concede, however, you have finally succeeded in what no one else has quite managed in the past thirty years - presenting me with something new. I have never placed two students together in the same bed or had two who were both affected by attempting to give anesthesia to one." While her tone was scolding, Harry could see the affection in her eyes as they all chuckled at her remarks.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I'm sorry if I have disrupted your holiday."

"Being on call comes with the job, Mr. Potter. In any case, your left shoulder was dislocated, most likely from the weight of that man when he fell on you. He had also done a rather effective job of trying to throttle you; however, there was no permanent damage done, and I have taken care of most of the bruising. It also seems an attempt was made to attack you directly while you and Miss Weasley were separated, but I can detect no lasting effects." She looked strangely at Ginny before continuing. "And Miss Weasley suffered no ill effects at all, other than a couple hours' nap after giving you a dollop so you wouldn't feel my working on your shoulder. However, you might want to capture any additional Death Eaters with your right hand for a day or two. Other than a bit of stiffness, you both should be fine."

"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said. "Harry, if I might ask, what alerted you to Mr. Pettigrew's presence?"

"I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye; it was a rat. And there was something funny about it, and it was about the size I remembered Scabbers being. I thought it might be Wormtail. He was about to get away, so I summoned him."

Dumbledore nodded. "As I said, you did capture him; however, you might not be aware of all that followed. Mr. Pettigrew resumed human form as you tried to hold him, and his weight knocked you to the floor. He had seized you by the throat, but Mr. Weasley and Professors McGonagall and Lupin all hit him with stunning spells; Miss Granger placed him in a full body bind, and Miss Weasley reducted him - with some force, I might add - away from you. I am curious, however, as to what happened next."

"He knew where the book we were looking for was, the one they'd used when they made the mirrors," Harry said. "He had gone to return the book to the library one night while my father and Sirius were serving a detention; he thought he heard someone coming, and ran for it. But he knew he'd be in bigger trouble if he had been caught with a book from the restricted section, so he hid it behind the other books." Harry could tell from the lights filtering in the windows it was quite late in the day. "Uh, how long was I out?"

Dumbledore absorbed this, but carefully kept any concern from his face; there was certainly more here than Harry had told him thus far, but this was neither the time nor the place to pursue it further. As he pondered this latest development, Madam Pomfrey answered Harry's question. "A bit more than three hours. Most of that was due to what I gave you before I worked on your shoulder."

"How about the book?" Harry asked. "Was it the right one?"

"I've glanced through it, Harry, and yes, it may be what we're looking for, but I'm not really sure how to apply it," Hermione answered. "Yet."

"After the Aurors have taken Mr. Pettigrew to the ministry - and I believe Ms. Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt are here now - Professor Flamel will be quite interested in what you have found. He has been studying the mirrors he brought here last night."

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Harry a moment before continuing. "Harry, I'm afraid I have taken some steps you may find uncomfortable. You might recall from my letter a few days ago that Minister Fudge decided to satisfy Nicholas and myself prior to our meeting with Rita Skeeter. That was not an idle threat; we did indeed meet with the reporter after our meeting with the Minister. As you are aware, she has an ability that could be quite valuable to the Order if she would cooperate with us."

Dumbledore was right, but Harry didn't like where this seemed to be going; however, he listened as Dumbledore continued. "I am afraid I cannot rely on Cornelius Fudge to do other than what appears to be the most expedient choice; however, at the moment, he is quite concerned with appeasing the press. If Mr. Pettigrew's capture is on the front page of tomorrow's Prophet, I believe the Minister can be persuaded to take the necessary steps to ensure that he remains in custody. Furthermore, keeping it quiet, as the Minister would have undoubtedly preferred, would perhaps work in his favor but against the interests of the Order and of Sirius, should we be able to reach him."

Dumbledore waited for this last point to sink in before continuing. "Unfortunately, we cannot turn over Pettigrew to the Ministry and hope for that sort of coverage without some explanation of how he was captured." Harry felt a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. It was what he had been afraid of. "Harry, Rita Skeeter is most eager to speak with you and your friends concerning what has happened today. I believe it would be very much in all of our interests if you and your friends would talk with her for a few minutes."

"Like this? I mean, so soon after...." Harry looked hopefully at Madam Pomfrey.

"Harry, I know you have had, at best, an uncomfortable relationship with the press, and it's hardly fair to spring this on you as suddenly as I have." Dumbledore again paused thoughtfully before continuing. "But in this case, I'm afraid that it goes with the territory, and I will ask you to heed Sirius's advice about when the going gets tough." He waited until Harry finally gave a reluctant nod. "I have already discussed with Ms. Skeeter your condition and your reservations about dealing with any sort of publicity; however, she has asked me to reassure you that whatever misconceptions she once held was the result of not being able to talk with you and that she would much prefer to tell your story as she did with the last article she wrote concerning Voldemort's return."

That hadn't worked out so bad after all, Harry thought to himself. Maybe Dumbledore did have a point. "Ok, Professor."

"Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore looked to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione in turn. "May I assume that you will all follow Harry's lead?"

One by one they nodded their agreement. "I think that perhaps it would be best to allow the interview to happen here," Dumbledore said. "That might help to limit things a bit. Also, Harry, if you have no objection, I'd like Nicholas to be here. We have been intending to make his return to Hogwarts public, and this seems like an ideal opportunity to link the stories, and perhaps it may also help deflect some of the attention from you."

"Professor, it sounds as if you're... staging all this," Hermione said, with a hint of disapproval.

"Yes, dear girl, to an extent I am. The press is a fact of life, and it is something that Harry - or more realistically, all of you, will have to learn to deal with on an ongoing basis. And deal with them in other ways than keeping them locked inside a glass jar, Miss Granger. As attractive as that may seem at times, there are simply too many of them."

Dumbledore looked at each of the teens over his half moon glasses, then said, "If there are no more questions, I shall go and see how they are progressing with Mr. Pettigrew, then bring Professor Flamel and Ms. Skeeter back here. Miss Weasley, I almost hesitate to suggest this given your tendency to reduct anyone attempting to keep you and Harry apart, but you might find taking a chair near Harry might make things simpler, or at least avoid awkward questions. Oh, and, Harry, I suspect Ms. Skeeter might have some questions about the events of yesterday. It seems that rumors are already circulating."

Harry gave a tired sigh. "The 'telling me everything' does seem to be getting better. But we still need to work on these little details that always seem to pop up at the end after I'm already in over my head."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and gave Harry a wry grin; he was thankful that whatever had led Harry to the book Wormtail had hidden had not exposed the prophecy he had thus far failed to mention. He waited a few moments; when no more questions or comments were forthcoming, he strode purposefully from the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey told Harry she would check on him again after "the circus" had finished, and walked back to her office. McGonagall, after giving Harry a sympathetic look, accompanied her, listening to the mediwitch grumble about the difficulty of running a hospital where the Headmaster secretly aspired to be a ringmaster.

"Reduct everyone?" Harry looked at Ginny as she slid to the floor. She took her wand from her pocket and summoned a chair.

Ginny looked mildly annoyed as Ron and Hermione snickered. Ron finally said, "Yeah, Harry, not only did Ginny nail Wormtail with a reductor curse - knocked him about twenty feet, without a wand - she wouldn't let go of you and was getting really upset until McGonagall told Madam Pomfrey that she had to let Ginny keep holding your hand, even while she changed you into the pajamas. And then a little later, Ginny started to pass out when Madam Pomfrey started to give you a potion; she fired off the spell when she couldn't keep her grip on you. If Dumbledore hadn't blocked it...."

"And it's a shame you were out cold when Dumbledore told her she had to work on you with the two of you lying together," Hermione said. "After they figured out the potion was knocking you both out, I think she was actually relieved; she thought she could separate the two of you as soon as you were both asleep. I guess she's pried couples apart before, but having the Headmaster insist you two had to stay together took her by surprise." She imitated Madam Pomfrey. "'I have enough trouble keeping them in their own beds as it is.'"

Ginny had settled into the chair she had moved beside the bed, being careful to keep hold of Harry's hand. Harry then sat up and swung his feet toward the floor. "I thought you were staying there, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"If I have to go through with this, I'm at least going to put my jeans and shirt on, and get out of these scratchy pajamas. Ron, will you hand my stuff, and Hermione, would you drag that screen across here for a moment?"

Ron handed his clothes to him, and then moved to the other side of the screen Hermione had rolled in front of Harry's bed. Ginny noticed Harry seemed to be searching for something, and giggled. "You're still wearing them. Poor Madam Pomfrey just didn't know what to do with me here."

Ginny helped him remove the itchy hospital top and slide his own shirt over his head. He then stood on the cold floor for a moment and traded the pajama pants for his jeans. Not yet bothering with socks and shoes, he climbed back into the bed, which Ginny had helped him adjust so that the back was mostly upright, not unlike a chair.

Ginny told Ron and Hermione that Harry was ready; they rolled away the screen and brought additional chairs from nearby. Harry had covered his legs and the hand Ginny held with the sheet and settled back to await the inevitable. Hermione had opened the book Harry had found, and she was carefully reading it; Harry, Ron, and Ginny talked about Quidditch as they waited.

After twenty minutes, Dumbledore returned with Nicholas Flamel and Rita Skeeter. She greeted the teens, though was still a bit reserved with Hermione. Dumbledore conjured chairs for the three of them, and the interview began.

Dumbledore had already given her an overview of what happened, but she still went through it several times with each of them. When Ron mentioned Pettigrew had hidden for years as his pet, she focused her attention entirely on him for the next several minutes. Strangely, she did not ask any questions at all about what they were doing at Hogwarts in the middle of the summer holidays; however, from her comments, it was clear that Dumbledore had already presented this earlier as some sort of special project work. Harry gathered that part of the explanation had something to do with the problems with Dolores Umbridge. As her Quick Quotes quill flew furiously over the parchment, Rita finally paused to glance over what the quill had written. She chuckled. "Front page above the fold for sure. 'Harry Potter Captures Mysterious Death Eater With Bare Hands.'"

Harry groaned. Skeeter gave him what she intended to be a reassuring smile. "Don't you worry, Harry. This isn't just going to be good press; it'll be great! When I'm finished with you, you could run for Minister on your seventeenth birthday and win!"

"That's what I'm afraid of." But he said it with a smile, and they all laughed.

"Now, I understand you were working under the guidance of Nicholas Flamel?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I'm already convinced he'll be the best Defense professor we've had since I started Hogwarts, other than maybe Remus Lupin. His knowledge is incredible, and his experience... well, is unmatched by anyone I've ever heard of."

Skeeter turned toward where Dumbledore and Flamel stood and asked, "And are you ready for me to go with the story about his return to Hogwarts this year to teach?" After Dumbledore and Flamel nodded, she discussed how she planned to link the stories; it was clear from their conversation that the three of them had already discussed Flamel's teaching role. "And I also want to tie this to another story on which I've been working, concerning Professor Flamel's immediate predecessor." Recalling McGonagall's comments, Harry had a pretty good idea that Dumbledore and Flamel were not the only two Hogwarts professors who had been talking to Rita Skeeter.

"Harry, I have just a few more questions for you, if you don't mind. There are a number of stories floating about that you were named the heir of Sirius Black. When he was cleared, the Black estate moved out of limbo, and apparently, it went mostly to you. And related to that, I've heard that you have also come into your full inheritance of the Potter estate. As one source put it, you're now as rich as a Malfoy. Are these stories true, and if so, how does it feel?"

Harry had been dreading this question, but at least had some time to think about an answer. "I guess there's some truth to what you've heard. Sirius named me as his principal heir. To be honest, though, I really don't know how much I have or how it compares to what the Malfoys have." Harry then started talking about Sirius. He told Skeeter quite a bit about their relationship and history, and he described how no one at the Ministry would believe that Sirius was innocent, even when multiple witnesses saw Pettigrew. It wasn't until after Sirius's heroics in saving Harry and some other students from Death Eaters at the Ministry that anyone would listen. Harry was vague on the details of what had happened that night, but he suspected Rita already knew a lot more of the story.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly at Harry and added, "And alas, Sirius's heroic actions were noticed, but too late. Minister Fudge cleared Sirius Black of all charges after his actions were brought to his attention."

Rita snorted. "I'll write it that way, Albus, but you're not pulling the wool over my eyes. Since you and Nicholas Flamel met with him the other day, Cornelius has been walking around with both shoulders dislocated, and unlike Harry here, no one's popped his back into their sockets. But, Harry, you didn't say much about your inheritance at all."

"I really haven't thought a lot about it. With what my parents left me, I've always had more than I needed. Until yesterday, I wasn't even aware they had left me more than was in the vault I've had since I started Hogwarts. And while what Sirius left is just another example of how he looked out for me, I'd much rather have Sirius than all the Galleons in Gringotts. And really, the whole idea of using money as a measure of someone's importance or how good one's life is seems silly to me. Where I count myself rich is in my friends, not in my Gringotts vault."

She looked up from her parchment at Harry again. "Harry, speaking of your friends, I've noticed the whole time I've been here your hand has been under that sheet and so has Ginny Weasley's. I've also heard from a reliable source that the two of you showed up at Gringotts yesterday hand in hand. It looks like you have a girlfriend. And judging from Ginny's top, it seems she's pretty happy about it."

Harry slowly nodded. "Off the record, I guess there's no way I can deny it." Ginny gave him a look that clearly said he'd best not even think it. "But can I get away with 'No Comment,' officially?"

"Kid, the word's already on the street. It's your call. Either I can tell it, and I'll put a good spin on it - or you take your chances with whoever gets enough to go to press first. This is news, you know; after all, you were already on Teen Witch Weekly's list of most eligible young bachelors even before you got the big bank account, Harry. A lot of hearts are going to be breaking." And looking at Ginny, she added kindly, "And, honey, you really need to get someone to handle your mail for awhile."

Harry looked at Dumbledore. "I guess that means I comment?"

"I'm afraid so, Harry. I believe it would be better to let Ms. Skeeter break the story. It is going to get out sooner or later."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Ginny is my girlfriend. She was one of the students - and so were Ron and Hermione - who were with me at the Ministry. We've only been together officially for a few days, but we've been friends for a long time. Ginny is very special to me; her whole family is. The Weasley family, for all intents and purposes, have adopted me; I've been incredibly blessed to have been cared for by a wonderful family like the Weasleys, to have friends like Ron and Hermione, a girlfriend like Ginny, and teachers like Professors Dumbledore, Flamel, and McGonagall."

"And wasn't she also the girl you rescued in your second year?" Skeeter asked.

Ginny didn't give anyone else a chance to answer. "Harry didn't just rescue me, Ms. Skeeter, he saved my life and probably a lot of others too. Harry was only twelve, but he killed a fifty-foot basilisk that had inhabited the Chamber since Salazar Slytherin himself placed it there. Harry killed the King of Serpents using Godric Gryffindor's sword. I just found out Harry pulled that sword...." Her voice broke; she paused for a moment before continuing. "He pulled that sword out of Gryffindor's hands from where he was buried near Stonehenge... to defend me. Mrs. Flamel knew where the sword had been before Harry pulled it from the Sorting Hat; before, we had thought it must have been hidden somewhere in the school.

"When Harry killed the basilisk, one of the fangs went into his arm. After that, as the poison was killing him, he somehow managed to use that fang to destroy the book where Voldemort had saved a memory of himself as a Hogwarts' seventh year. Harry would have died if Professor Dumbledore's phoenix had not shed its tears on his arm." Her voice softened. "Harry almost gave his life for me, Ms. Skeeter. When Harry found out I had been taken, he solved the mystery of the Chamber, he led the way in, and he and Ron had to force the Defense professor to go with them at wand point. And when the tunnel gave way, he went on to confront Tom Riddle all alone. He took on Slytherin's basilisk and Voldemort together - and he won. Voldemort would have returned two years earlier if Harry hadn't stopped him. That's the kind of person Harry is; he risked everything for a skinny little nobody that had done nothing but embarrass him all year." She looked directly at the reporter before continuing. "He's the same Harry Potter you wrote about during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Ginny gives me way too much credit," Harry added. "Hermione figured out what the monster was, and she got herself petrified in the process... but she had the answer on a page torn from a book in her hand where Ron and I found it. And Ron was with me every step of the way until we were separated by the cave-in. While Ron worked to clear the tunnel, I was lucky enough to reach Ginny in time. Fawkes - that's Professor Dumbledore's phoenix - blinded the serpent; I just got lucky with the sword. It was a team effort; I couldn't have done it alone."

As she listened to them, the grizzled veteran reporter felt her conscience stir - a rather unusual occurrence; reporting was a hack and slash business, and to succeed, you had to be tough as nails, not get emotionally involved, and above all, remain objective. But what could be more objective that what this boy had done? She'd followed other people's agendas and whispered half-truths and had ended up hurting and discrediting this kid - this quiet, unassuming kid - who sat here in front of her trying to minimize his own heroic role - who should have been lauded as the biggest hero in the wizarding world since Albus Dumbledore. If what the Weasley girl said was true - and Rita had no doubt that every word had been - not only had she been horribly wrong, but she'd also been rolled. No wonder the Granger girl.... Well, she thought, glancing at her quill, I still have the means to make amends... and some paybacks. A woman scorned hath no fury like a reporter who'd been rolled.

Dumbledore had watched the expressions flow across Skeeter's face; he left her to her thoughts for a moment before he said, "Rita, I hope there are some details of what Miss Weasley just told you that can be left on background."

"Yes," she replied thoughtfully. "I can see why you'd want to do that. But thank you for letting her tell me most of it, Albus. It does make a difference in how I see the big picture, and rest assured, I do know how to keep a confidence and protect a source."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied.

"How do you feel about the current state of affairs, Ginny?" Skeeter queried.

"About being with Harry?" She blushed before continuing. "I guess a lot of my friends already know I've always liked Harry since I first met him, even before the Chamber. We've been friends for a long time; things just sort of - er, well, they kind of came together all at once, I guess."

"Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived, is something of a public figure. Does that have any impact on you, Ginny?"

Ginny looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "No, not really; he hates all the attention it brings, and to me, he's just Harry. And that's enough."

"How can you say he's 'just Harry' after what you described happening three years ago?" Skeeter asked, surprised.

"That's one of Ginny's greatest gifts to me," Harry said. "She treats me like a normal guy, she tells me what I'd better do while claiming she's simplifying my life; there's no pretense with her at all. She always gives it to me straight. With Ginny, and with Ron and Hermione, I can occasionally be just another normal kid."

"And, truthfully, that's what he'd really rather be," Ginny added.

"Has the size of Harry's bank account changed anything? You two were already together before Mr. Black's will was read, weren't you, Ginny?" Rita seemed to be quite pleased with Ginny's responses.

"Yes, we were together before that, and no, it's not changed anything between us at all. Like Harry said, the money's not that important."

Skeeter shook her head disbelievingly, then asked, "Ginny, you're from a large family, and it's no secret that raising seven kids on a Ministry department head's salary... well, it couldn't be easy. Does the money really have no impact at all on your life?"

Ron and Ginny exchanged a look; he'd almost interrupted, but she silenced him with her glance. With her free hand, she pulled the ruby pendant from under her shirt and said, "Sirius was pretty good to me in his will; in fact, he was very kind to all of us. I know a ruby is supposed to be really expensive, but really, it's no more than a pretty rock. It's beautiful, I like the color, and I can get lost looking into it, and I'll always treasure it because it came from Sirius. I owe him a lot - he was responsible for Harry and I getting together in the first place. And that's what I value - the beauty of the gem and the memories it represents, not how many Galleons someone says it's worth." Again, using her free hand, she pulled the sheet back from their joined hands. "This means more to me than any stone, any amount of gold. Sure, it's great to have plenty of money, but it will never be the most important thing in our lives."

Rita Skeeter stared wide-eyed at the ruby for several moments until Ginny placed it back under her shirt. She shook her head and said, "That's quite a rock you've got there, honey. You really don't want to go showing that around so casually."

Ginny grinned. "I'm not worried as long as Harry's around."

"How did Sirius Black get the two of you together?"

Ginny looked at Harry; after a moment, he answered. "Sirius left letters for both of us; he told me that if waited too long, I'd have the rest of my life to regret it."

"He told me to follow my heart," Ginny added.

Skeeter then looked at Ron. "Ron, you're Ginny's brother? You're a little older, right? How do you feel about your famous classmate dating your little sister?"

Ron hadn't expected this; he felt Hermione's foot press against his as he answered. "Harry and I have been friends since we met on the Hogwarts' Express in our first year...."

Harry interrupted, "Ron was my very first friend in the wizarding world. He and Hermione are still my two best friends."

Ron continued after he and Harry exchanged a look. "I told Harry this a few nights ago. There's no one I'd rather have as a brother - that's how my brothers and I think of him - and as a brother-in-law."

"This one's back to you, Harry. Both you and Ginny are pretty young; wizards and witches usually marry earlier than muggles, but still, you've got two years before you finish school, and Ginny has three. Do you think this will last?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance before he answered. "No doubt. This will last." Ginny nodded her agreement.

"Ok, one final, general question about Hogwarts. Do you get along with all your professors, Harry? It's often been reported that there is a certain friction between you and one professor in particular."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. "I have the utmost respect for all of the current Hogwarts faculty. While certainly there is inter-house rivalry that comes into play, Professor Snape, after all, is head of Slytherin House, he is a knowledgeable teacher, and he made a contribution to our summer project just today."

"Rita, Harry has been though quite an ordeal. I really should insist that we wrap this up; otherwise, I may find myself in my own hospital from the looks Poppy Pomfrey is giving me."

Skeeter nodded. "I think I have what I need. Three front page stories. 'The Living Legend Returns,' 'Harry Potter Captures Mysterious Death Eater With Bare Hands,' and 'The Boy Who Lived Finds Love, Wealth.' And a scandal involving a ministry official torturing students all set to break a day or two after that. This is going to cost the Prophet this time."

Rita Skeeter stood and then shook hands with Dumbledore, Flamel, and Ron before turning to Hermione. They exchanged a few whispered words before shaking hands; Dumbledore was pleased to see a measure of good will in their exchange. Then Skeeter moved to Harry. Ginny had moved her left hand to his side, and he allowed Rita to take his hand; after shaking it, she gripped his fingers and looked at the back of his hand. "Sorry, Kid, I had to know for sure. I won't use your name, but anyone who'd do that deserves a lot worse than what I'm about to give them."

"You can use my name if you need to. I told Professor McGonagall I'd help," Harry said quietly.

"For now, Kid, let's keep that in reserve. And read what I'm writing; I think you'll like it this time. Better get tomorrow's Prophet and the Quibbler, I'm not sure who'll end up with the story first; maybe both, but it won't come cheap." She smiled as she placed the quill and several sheets of parchment into her crocodile-skin handbag. "It's been so many years since I was here; I'm not sure if I can find my way back out. Professor, would you?"

Dumbledore and Flamel left to see her to the doors; after they departed the hospital wing with her, she continued to ply them with questions. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey left the small office and rejoined the students. "I had hoped to spare you the topic of Dolores Umbridge on top of everything else by staying out of sight, but I see Rita Skeeter found a way in the end, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.

"It's ok, Professor. I want to see her dealt with, too," Harry reassured her.

"Mr. Potter, I would normally suggest getting some rest and taking things a bit slower for the next day or two, but we both know I'd be wasting my breath," Madam Pomfrey said as she checked his shoulder and arm with her wand. "However, you are free to go now, and I shall await your next visit. And Miss Weasley... I could almost feel sympathy for even You-Know-Who, if he should attempt to get in your way." Her smile, however, took away any sting in her words; Harry pulled on his socks and shoes, and the four friends left the hospital wing.

They walked down the stairs toward the entrance hall, Hermione talking nonstop about what she had read thus far. They met Dumbledore and Flamel there; Dumbledore suggested they go to the Great Hall. Upon entering, the teens were surprised to find that the four house tables and the head table had been removed; a single round table remained in the center of the room with perhaps a dozen places set. They took their places at the table, and Dumbledore apologized, "I'm afraid there are not many choices; most of the kitchen staff are having a most marvelous holiday at Grimmauld Place, but if you look at the menu to the right and speak into your plate, your selection should appear within a few moments."

"How can you call that a holiday, Professor? All those poor elves have been working dreadfully hard." Hermione gave Dumbledore a disappointed look.

"My dear girl, the elves have been arguing among themselves over who would have to stay behind to keep Hogwarts running. Were they any less responsible, there would not be a single house elf at Hogwarts, and those that are here are, for the most part, busily engaged in making curtains and draperies and repairing furnishings for Harry Potter's House. While most of them are not yet ready to embrace the choices Dobby has made, they hold Harry in great esteem. They believe themselves privileged to help Dobby refurbish Harry's home. However, if you can convince them to take a week or even two at the shore, I will not stand in your way.

"But consider, Miss Granger, you find great joy in your academic pursuits, but you often must coax or, dare I say, push your friends to lay aside their cards or chess sets and do their homework. Not everyone's idea of work and recreation is the same. Ah, I think I shall try the Shepherd's Pie."

"I wouldn't say Hermione pushes, Professor," Ron said as Hermione beamed at him. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and peered at Ron, who grinned wickedly and said, "I mean, nagging and harassing are right past pushing, aren't they?" Hermione was giving Ron a decidedly different look as the others chuckled.

"Oh! You'll pay for that Ronald Weasley," she promised.

They made their selections, then Hermione and Flamel began discussing what she had read thus far, and she showed him several places in the book she had marked. Dumbledore had chatted with the remaining teens; he told them he had been quite pleased with their interview, and then the conversation touched on a variety of school related matters, including Quidditch. Professor McGonagall had joined them after the first few minutes; she had chosen a seat beside Flamel and joined the discussion between Hermione and Flamel.

As they finished their meal, the subject drifted back to what had brought them to Hogwarts. "You know, Harry, as much as I hate to say it, if it hadn't been for Wormtail, we might never have found that book. It wasn't even in the Restricted Section," Ron said, as he began working on a second pudding.

"I guess so, but I still feel like I'm not doing enough; we're sitting here eating, and who knows how long Sirius..."

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "things are moving remarkably well at this point; I know it's difficult, but you must let things run their course. Nicholas and Hermione are well suited to the task; Professor Flamel brings a wealth of knowledge and experience, while Miss Granger is not yet burdened with decades of preconceived notions of how things must work. I believe that between them, they shall at least unravel the construction of the mirrors. But they will need time."

"Does it get any easier?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore pondered a few moments before answering. "No, dear boy, I suppose it does not. After a time, you may find you will most often keep your own council when showing any sign of worry might distract others; but, no, I cannot say that it gets easier." He turned towards Flamel. "Nicholas, do you believe this book holds the key?"

"It may indeed. I need to read some passages again, slowly and carefully, but I believe what the young scamps may have done...." Flamel again descended into theory; Harry made no effort to understand the details, though Dumbledore and McGonagall were participating, and Hermione seemed to be following along this time. Ron was still finishing up his second serving of pudding; Harry suddenly felt very tired, and he noticed Ginny yawn.

"You too, eh?"

"It's not the hours, Harry, it's the mileage," she replied, attempting to stifle another yawn.

"Perhaps the two of you should consider returning to Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore suggested. "I doubt there is anything more you can contribute at this point."

"Professor Flamel, can you even speculate at this point how long...?"

Flamel looked up from the book; Hermione had been pointing out a particular passage. "At this point, Harry, it's too early to say. I will continue to work, of course, but I do believe Brian is right; you and Ginny should return home at this point; if you are needed, we shall certainly not hesitate to either return you here or join you there."

Harry would not agree to go until extracting a promise that he and Ginny would be informed of any progress or new information. Ron, who had carried the portkey in his pocket after finding that it could easily be adjusted for size depending on the number of people needing to grasp it, brought it out and handed it to Harry. After once again being assured they would be called if there were news, Harry and Ginny took the portkey and returned to Grimmauld Place.

Molly was waiting in the kitchen; when they appeared, she immediately pulled both into a hug; then demanded to know what had happened to Harry. McGonagall had told her about the capture of Wormtail and that Harry had been injured, but little in the way of details other than it didn't seem to be too serious. Harry and Ginny spent the next few minutes filling her in. Molly let them talk long enough to be satisfied that they were both ok and then chased them upstairs; both had yawned several times as they had talked. She'd told them after Harry had protested that neither of them should be this tired this early that it could take a night, or maybe even two to get the potion Harry had been given out of his - or perhaps in this case - their systems.

After climbing the four flights of stairs, they quickly made ready for bed. Back in her accustomed spot on Harry's left, Ginny yawned deeply as she curled against him. Harry gingerly moved his arm around her - it wasn't easy finding a place where it was comfortable - and said sleepily, "Well, I guess Tom gets another free pass tonight."

He felt Ginny shift, then her lips on his. After some time - he could not have said if seconds or centuries had passed - she pulled back long enough to whisper, "We'll remind him we're still here." Time again distorted; but before long, sleep had claimed them both.

(**********)

After Harry and Ginny had returned to Grimmauld place, those remaining at Hogwarts left the Great Hall and walked together to the second floor. Dumbledore and McGonagall parted company with Flamel and the two students there, turning towards the Headmaster's office. Ron and Hermione followed Flamel to his office; the mirrors he had taken from Grimmauld Place the day before were sitting on his desk. He had been telling Hermione what he had discovered thus far about the mirrors as they walked from the Great Hall, then the two began discussing how what they had read so far might have be applied.

"But doesn't that mean the mirrors would have only worked between those who," Hermione paused for a moment to carefully pick the next word, "contributed blood when they were made?"

"If that had been used to bind them to specific individuals, perhaps, but I do not believe any sort of binding component was used at all, else Harry's blood should not have had any effect."

"So you don't think it was anything specific to Harry, Professor?"

"I can't completely rule that out, but it seems unlikely to me at this point. When blood is used in any sort of binding, it is almost always very specific, not unlike the spells that were used to ward Privet Drive for many years."

"But how did that activate it at all, if his earlier attempts...."

Ron had half-heartedly listened to their discussion for a few minutes before tuning it out; there was little he could contribute. He looked around the office; not much had changed since Umbridge had left, other than the removal of her personal things. Lacking anything else, he picked up a book of curses and counter-curses and thumbed through its pages, looking for interesting spells.

Ron's ears perked up as he heard Hermione say, "But how could that be, Professor? Hogwarts, A History says that...." She stopped, looking somewhere between hurt and offended as Flamel laughed deeply.

"My child, surely you know not to take everything you read in that unwieldy tome as factual?" Flamel asked, to Ron's great amusement. "You must realize that what every headmaster has recorded has been influenced by his personal point of view, and some were quite concerned about how history would view their actions. The description of the castle and the items within are somewhat incomplete but, for the most part, accurate, I suppose. But the history and many of the events described have most often been described from a single point of view, and often significant details are missing, usually to protect the guilty, though on occasional the innocent, too. You are no doubt aware of the muggle saying that 'the victors write the history books.' It is no less true in the magical world."

Hermione looked scandalized as she sputtered, "But that... that's the official record...."

Ron tried to conceal his amusement, but Hermione, not quite willing to challenge a professor, directed her frustration at him instead. "Do you ever have anything useful to contribute?"

"You know how Harry made it work in the first place. Why not just do the same things over again?" Ron asked.

Hermione lectured Ron about how impractical and dangerous meddling with something none of them fully understood could be, but Flamel had nodded thoughtfully and winked at Ron as Hermione paused to breathe, and he interrupted, "It's been said often enough that a dram of application is worth a stone of theory, though the units of measure have changed over the years. Perhaps Ron has cut to the heart of the matter, my dear. Time is of the essence, not only out of concern for Sirius Black, but patience is a skill that Harry has not yet mastered."

"But what could he do, Professor?" Hermione asked, now concerned. "You have both of the mirrors."

"I had first thought by taking both mirrors I would ensure that Harry would not have a chance to experiment further by himself; however, it would not do for us to allow Harry to become too impatient. It would be nothing short of a catastrophe for him to attempt to breach the Ministry again, and if he were to succeed - and he very well might given the sort of power he commands - and attempted to pass the arch...."

Ron felt a cold chill run down his back; returning to the arch sounded exactly like the sort of thing Harry would do, and with he and Ginny joined as they were, she'd step though with him, hand in hand; she could be even more reckless than Harry.

Hermione exchanged a worried look with Ron; she was clearly thinking along similar lines. "What would we do? Put blood on the mirror?" she asked.

"We shall at least try that first," Flamel said as he produced a wand and touched it to his index finger. Noticing Hermione's surprise, he chuckled and added, "some things I do find preferable to do with a wand." He moved his hand over one of the mirrors and squeezed his fingertip until a single drop of blood fell onto the glass. He waited for a moment and then commanded, "Sirius!"

Both he and Hermione carefully watched the glass; the drop sat there; nothing was happening.

They continued to watch for some minutes; finally Flamel said, "When Harry cut his hand, I could feel the dwomer of the mirror within a few seconds. This has not worked."

"Does that mean we break one of them?" Ron asked.

"That would seem to be the next step," Flamel replied.

"Professor, do you think the length of time the mirror was broken in Harry's trunk was a factor or if any of the other items there somehow interacted?" Hermione was thinking out loud as she tried to think of any other possible variables.

"I suppose either of those might be possible, though I do not think it likely. My guess is that the broken glass was able to react to Harry's blood in some way that the unbroken mirror could not. I felt the magic at work even before I repaired the mirror."

Flamel picked up his wand, and Hermione had drawn back, expecting he would break the mirror, but before he could take action, McGonagall's head appeared in the fireplace. "Nicholas, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Albus has asked that I mobilize the Order." She paused, taking note of Ron and Hermione, but continued anyway. "A number of Death Eaters have gathered near Privet Drive; it looks like they are preparing an attack. Albus has already departed, he asks that you meet him and the others at Arabella's." Flamel nodded; he picked up a quill from the desk and murmured, "Portus." Moments later he disappeared.

"As for the two of you, there is little point in you waiting here; it is doubtful any of us will return for some time. Might I count on one of you to make a floo call to Grimmauld Place and have someone obtain the portkey from Harry and meet you here? They will arrive in the Headmaster's office; the password is 'skiving snackbox.'"

She barely waited for Hermione to nod before disappearing from the fireplace. Ron stood and took a step toward the door before stopping; Hermione had not moved; she was still staring at the mirror. "Should we call from here, or Dumbledore's office?" Ron asked.

"Just a minute," she replied distractedly.

Ron waited for quite a bit longer than a minute. "You did tell McGonagall that you'd call and that...."

"I nodded. I didn't say when!" Hermione snapped.

Ron shrugged, and then settled back in his chair. He picked up the book he'd been flipping through earlier but did not open it; he watched Hermione instead. She mostly peered at the mirror; she looked up something in the book she and Flamel had been working with, then she resumed staring at the mirror again. After another minute, she looked up. "I'm going to try it, Ron."

"Shouldn't you wait for Professor Flamel? And shouldn't we have already left?"

She looked at him as if she couldn't believe her ears. "I don't believe I'm hearing this. At least not from you."

"Look, even first year I just wanted you to loosen up a little. Even you don't know what you're dealing with here. Dumbledore and Flamel are extremely careful while dealing with blood magic. Too much of Harry's been rubbing off on you."

Hermione raised her wand. "Would you be saying that if Harry were sitting in front of this instead of me?" She didn't wait for an answer; she flicked her wand and muttered; the mirror glass in front of her shattered. The drop of blood, which had been left on the glass, disappeared into the network of cracks.

"Sirius! Sirius Black! Padfoot!" Hermione commanded

As she and Ron watched the glass, they could see it darken; Hermione then cast the spell Flamel had used previously to repair the glass; it reformed. The mirror was pitch black. "Sirius! Are you there? Can you hear me?" Hermione called into the mirror.

The surface remained pitch black, but somehow, it was different, as if deep currents flowed under the blackness. Then, they heard a voice, flat and dull, and sounding as if it were spoken from the bottom of a well. "Her... Hermione? How? Is that... you?"

"Yes, it's me. And Ron. The mirror, Sirius; you had your mirror. I'm using one of the others; Harry found...."

"Harry! Is Harry with you? Is Harry all right? I thought I heard...."

"He's fine, Sirius. We may not have long. We're trying to get you back. Are you ok? What can you see or tell me about where you are?"

"It's black. All black. No light at all. Tired. Mostly have been Padfoot, other things are here, bad things; don't know what they are. They leave Padfoot alone."

"Do you have any idea where you came in?"

"None; no sense of direction, it's like floating. No idea. Something's coming. Tell Harry...."

The darkness began drawing away from the edges of the mirror; Hermione cried, "Hang on Sirius, we're coming. Hang on!" The dark spot continued to recede toward the center of the mirror until it vanished.

She turned to Ron. "He IS alive!"

Ron stood and tugged Hermione to her feet, then pulled her into a hug. "You did it! You are the smartest witch in our year, not to mention all of Hogwarts," he whispered into her ear.

"Still think too much of Harry's rubbing off on me?" She had wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him toward her.

Her question went unanswered.

Fifteen minutes later they stood in Dumbledore's office. Ron had placed the floo call to Grimmauld Place; Bill and Molly were in the kitchen; they were aware of the reports from Privet Drive; Charlie and Tonks had left earlier for Arabella Figg's. After Ron explained McGonagall's instructions, Bill said he'd see them in a few moments. He left the kitchen, and a few minutes later arrived in Dumbledore's office with a huge grin on his face. Ron and Hermione gave him curious looks; he chuckled and said, "Oh, it's nothing. I just feel for Harry. At least Ginny only stole my socks."

Ron looked baffled as Hermione and Bill both laughed. "I'll tell you later," she told Ron. The three of them grasped the key ring, and moments later stumbled into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

"I was beginning to get worried about you two," Molly said. When Minerva called earlier for Charlie and Tonks, she said she would send the two of you along."

"Mum, it doesn't matter. Sirius is alive! Harry was right."

"Are you sure?" Molly asked. "Please, please, whatever you do, don't give Harry any false hopes if there's any possible...."

"I'm sure, Mrs. Weasley. I was able to talk to him for a few minutes," Hermione said. "He said it was all dark, and he was tired and disoriented, but he was alive. The first thing he did was ask about Harry."

"That's wonderful, Hermione," she said, though worry was still evident in her expression. "So Professor Flamel was able to unravel the mirrors James and Sirius made after all."

"No, Mum," Ron said proudly. "Hermione did it."

"Was this before or after Professor Flamel left for Little Whinging?" Molly's eyes bored into Hermione.

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, it was really Ron's idea that I tried out."

"Ronald?" Ron now found his mother's eyes trained on him.

"Uh, er, but it was Hermione who actually performed the enchantments."

"Somebody had better start telling me what happened. NOW!"

Hermione quickly covered the events of the evening, starting with Ron's suggestion to just go ahead and repeat what Harry had done, then Flamel's first attempt, his departure, and then her success. She told Molly what Flamel had said about not taxing Harry's patience. "If Harry had decided to try to reach the arch, I'm not sure we could have done anything... other than maybe go with him. I knew nothing happened when Harry activated the mirror, and Flamel was ready to try it anyway, so I took the chance."

"That was a very foolhardy thing to do; honestly, I don't know what to do with any of you any more... the twins went to Privet Drive tonight; there was no stopping them either."

"Foolhardy, Mum?" Bill put an arm around his mother. "Maybe. But it was very, very Gryffindor. You and Dad didn't raise cowards. And it shows, both in what my brothers and sister do and in the people they associate with. Be proud of them. I am."

"I am," Molly replied quietly. "But a mother is still entitled to worry."

"We need to tell Harry," Hermione said. "Before he would leave, he made all of us promise we'd tell him if anything happened at all."

"They went up as soon as they got back here; Bill already woke them once." Molly smiled as she continued. "But go ahead. It should be a novel experience for Harry to be woken up by good news for a change."

"Want to come up with us?" Ron asked.

"No; Bill and I need to stay near the fireplace; messages could come in, or there may people arriving at any time. But you two go ahead." Molly was at least relieved they had not mentioned joining the Order members already at Privet Drive. "But I'd really rather you not say anything to Harry about the rest of this; none of his relatives are there anyway, and there's no use for him to worry."

"Ok, Mum," Ron agreed as they walked out the door.

They climbed to the fourth floor, and they noticed that the work being done by Dobby and his crew had progressed, but it was still evident that much remained to be done. They entered the master suite and knocked on the bedroom door before entering. Hermione then opened the door and entered, lighting the tip of her wand as she walked across the large room. "Harry, Ginny, it's me. Ron's here, too. Oh, Harry, you were right; Sirius is alive. I talked to him for a few minutes; the first thing he asked was about you. He said he was tired and disoriented, and the connection only lasted a couple minutes, but I told him to hang on and that we'd find a way to reach him."

Harry had sat up, "Hermione.... Oh, Merlin, please tell me again. You really talked to him? He's ok?"

Hermione threw her arms around Harry's neck and hugged him. "Yes, I really talked to him. He said he'd mostly stayed in his Padfoot form, and he was tired and disoriented. But you were right; he's alive." As earlier with Molly and Bill, Hermione did not mention what Sirius had said about other things being there.

Ginny sat up and wrapped her arms around Harry from the other side; both girls held him for several moments before Hermione stood. "We're going to get him back, Harry. Some way, some how."

"You and Flamel figured it out.... I was afraid to hope, that all you'd find is some sort of memory or echo," Harry said softly.

"Hermione made it work, Harry," Ron told him. "Flamel had already left."

"Left?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Some Order thing," Hermione said quickly. "We'd already tried something that didn't work, so I just kept going with what we'd planned next. All I did was repeat what happened to you yesterday."

"I guess the next question is - how do we get him back? If the mirrors work - maybe a portkey would too." Harry looked thoughtful. "But right now, I want a cup of hot chocolate. Gin, are you up for a trip down to the kitchen?"

"Sure. What time is it anyway? I feel rested," she replied.

Harry swung his feet to the floor; Ginny had moved beside him when Ron began to laugh; Hermione remarked, "Well, that was what I was going to tell you later." Seeing Harry's puzzled look, she explained that Bill had arrived laughing in Dumbledore's office.

Ron added, "Bill said he felt for you, Harry. At least she only stole our socks."

Ginny smiled sweetly at her brother. "By the time a pair of boxers reached you, Ron, there were more mends and patches than original cloth. No one would willingly wear such a threadbare thing. I figured it was Mum's way of making sure your dating didn't get out of hand, though I'm not sure why she worried. Besides, Harry has much better taste."

"Harry? Taste? Clothes? The hand-me-downs he gets stuck with are worse than mine." Ron gave his sister an unbelieving look.

"True. But as soon as I can get him to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, anything that came from the Dursleys is going to join Professor Lupin's old clothes on the fire. Who do you think picked these for him at Diagon Alley? If it had been strictly up to Mum, he might have ended up with those horrible maroon things she bought for you. Harry has good taste... or at least the good sense to let me help him."

"If you two are quite finished dissecting my clothes, I really would like some hot chocolate," Harry said as he pulled on the jeans he had worn earlier that day, Ginny keeping one hand on his back. He then pulled on a shirt and switched roles with Ginny, so she could slip into a bathrobe; neither bothered with shoes before descending the stairs to the kitchen.

Molly and Bill were seated at the table; Bill had a cup of black coffee before him; Molly was drinking tea. Hermione told the other teens to go ahead and sit; she'd make the chocolate. Molly started to rise to help her, but Hermione waved her away with a smile. "I may have been raised in a muggle household, but I'm not completely helpless in a wizarding kitchen." Shortly afterwards, she brought four steaming mugs to the table, distributed them, and claimed a seat for herself.

Harry had looked between Molly and Bill, and then asked, "What's going on?"

"What do you mean, dear?" Molly replied.

"Mum, it's after midnight; you and Bill are both down here drinking the sort of thing you drink to stay awake, no one else is around, and you're worried about something. And Flamel left Hermione to sort out the mirrors by herself. So, what is it?"

"Harry, Dumbledore mobilized most of the Order over an hour and a half ago. A group of Death Eaters was spotted near Little Whinging. It looked like they were preparing to set up an attack. There's been a watch maintained over the house there; once your relatives left, members of the Order and other trusted Aurors have stayed on watch there, expecting sooner or later the condition of the wards would be noticed," Bill explained. "No one could see any point in waking you; you're the last person we'd want anywhere near there; your relatives are all safely away; hopefully the surprise will be on our side, and several more Death Eaters will be captured."

"Have you had any news?" Harry asked.

"Nothing yet, but I wouldn't worry. It's possible the Death Eaters won't do any more than probe tonight. It may turn out to be nothing; it's possible they know you're no longer staying there." Bill tried to sound confident, as much for Molly's benefit as Harry's. "I'd hope to at least hear something soon; I'd expect Dad or Charlie or one of the twins to check in if nothing is going on, just so Mum won't worry."

Harry caught Bill's look as he talked about Molly not worrying, and they shifted to safer subjects; how strange it had seemed at Hogwarts with so few people about, the Great Hall devoid of it's house tables, and Ron and Hermione had them all laughing with their descriptions of Madam Pomfrey's frustrations trying to treat Harry. As Ron was describing how Dumbledore had blocked Ginny's half conscious curse, two people suddenly stumbled into the kitchen as they arrived via portkey. Harry recognized Charlie Weasley at once, but with him... no, it couldn't be. Not here. Not in this world. But as they turned, there was no doubt. The terrified face of Dudley Dursley stared back at him.