Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood
Harry Potter Hermione Granger Luna Lovegood
Action Drama
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Published: 08/10/2005
Updated: 01/24/2006
Words: 106,949
Chapters: 33
Hits: 137,035

Companions of the White Warlock


Story Summary:
Year seven of the HBP-compliant story (on Dark Arts) 'Smoke'. Harry, Hermione, and Ron go after the remaining Horcruxes, aided by Luna, Ginny, Neville, Remus, Tonks, and Professor Russell.

Chapter 04

Chapter Summary:
Year 7 of the HBP-compliant story (on Dark Arts) 'Smoke'. Harry, Hermione, and Ron go after the remaining Horcruxes, aided by Luna, Ginny, Neville, Remus, Tonks, and Professor Russell.

Smoke Year VII - Companions of the White Warlock
Chapter IV
Tuesday, July 1, 1997

Harry fell out of bed as Vernon Dursley pounded on his door. "What?" Harry demanded. He had been taking a nap.

"Some freaks to see you, boy!"

Harry came down the stairs behind his uncle, wand at the ready. He was not prepared to see Rufus Scrimgeour and Percy Weasley standing in the front hall, in formal City business suits and bowlers. "Minister!"

"Minister?" Vernon barked.

"Yes, Minister," Harry said. "Uncle Vernon? Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic for Great Britain and Ireland, and his assistant, Percy Weasley."


"Yes. I assure you, Uncle Vernon, Percy dislikes his twin brothers at least as much as you do." Percy winced slightly.

"May we speak privately with your nephew?" the Minister asked.

Vernon looked warily at the three wizards, all three now with their wands out. "Right," he said, and fled into the kitchen, where Petunia already was. Dudley was not yet home for dinner.

"After you," Harry said politely.

"Perhaps you should put you wand away," Percy suggested.

"Perhaps you two should first," Harry retorted.

"Right." The Minister slipped his up his sleeve. Seeing this, Percy pocketed his, while Harry also put his up his sleeve, ready to get it at a moment's notice.

"Here to make another appeal, Minister?" Harry asked.

Percy opened his mouth, but shut it at the Minister's gesture. "I could make life hard for you, Potter," the Minister said.

"Let's see, classes are cancelled for Sixth and Seventh years, so you can't expel me like Fudge tried to, and I doubt you'd set dementors on me or torture me like Umbridge. . . ."

"What? How did Umbridge 'torture' you?" Scrimgeour demanded.

"Did you know she has a quill that, when you write with it, carves what you write into the back of your hand?" Harry held his right hand out warily, ready to pull it back and pull his wand if he needed to. The Minister and Percy saw the scar tissue, and winced. "Do you know why the twins left, Percy? Because she was going to have Filch horsewhip them and then expel them."

Harry glared at the Minister. "You tell me, why should I have any dealings with people who favor someone like Umbridge?"

"Because this is war, Potter."

"Which matters more to you? Winning the war, or being given credit for fighting more than Fudge did?" Harry asked.

"I need the second to do the first!" the Minister exclaimed.

"I suppose that's true, to some degree," Harry conceded. "I just don't see how I can help you with what you have to do, and I don't see how you can help me very much with what I have to do."

"What you have to do!" Percy burst out. "You are as conceited as ever!"

Harry ignored Percy, and looked at the Minister. "You're not, are you, Potter?" Scrimgeour said thoughtfully. The Minister knew that Potter was not lying, and that meant that meant Potter could really be 'the Chosen One'. "Fine. What do you want, and what can you give me?"

"In the short term, if you won't go overboard, I won't contradict you if you say that I am cooperating with the Ministry."

"How would you cooperate?" Percy demanded sarcastically.

"How would you?" Harry asked.

"Yes, what do you want, Potter?"

"I turn seventeen at the end of the month. . . ."

"And you want permission to use magic and to apparate now, correct?" Harry nodded. "Done."


"Weasley, what is the most important thing we have to do?" Scrimgeour asked.

Percy opened his mouth . . . and then closed it. "Defeat You-Know-Who," Percy admitted reluctantly.

"Can you do it?" the Minister asked Harry.

"Without interference, I think so, but it won't be easy," Harry said. "There are preliminary steps which must be taken, and I need more training, which I have arranged."

"How many steps?"

"There were six things which must be done or found and destroyed before I can have any chance of destroying Voldemort," Harry said. "I've taken care of two, and the Headmaster destroyed one. That's what he was doing when he wasn't at Hogwarts -- seeking those things out. If word gets out that this is what I'm trying to do, Voldemort will concentrate on me, and he'll probably kill me, and we have no idea where one item might be, and only have good guess work on the other things. In that case, I'm dead and you lose. It's that simple. We're working on it. You can't help, as far as I know."

"Fact or theory?"



"No, Weasley. I can't read people's minds, but I do know a lie, and these were no lies." He turned to Percy. "Obliviate. Weasley, please wait outside with the security detail and then you need to get Potter here the permissions he'll need to apparate and use magic this month. Good job conducting his apparation exam, by the way, Weasley. I need to speak with Potter and make certain he understands his obligations."

Percy shook his head to clear it. "He's a stubborn one, Minister. Are you certain. . . ?"

"Yes, go on." Percy left.

"You'll come to me if you need that help, Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"I wish Dumbledore had said what he was up to," Scrimgeour said.

"He didn't trust anyone around you, sir," Harry said.

"To tell you the truth, there is no one I could trust with this, either," the Minister admitted. "Good luck."

"Thank you, sir. The same to you."

The Minister smiled. "You CAN safely apparate, can't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, we should have the paperwork for you soon enough. An owl should be by in the morning with your apparation license. Try not to use any magic before then."

"Yes, sir."

Scrimgeour looked at Harry. "Umbridge is a very able manipulator of paperwork. You might be glad to know that I have decided to move her into a position where she will not be dealing with the public, or have access to many state secrets. And also that I'll remember what you told me when the war is over."

"Thank you, Minister," Harry said, not really believing what the Minister said. With that, the Minister left, and Harry went to tell his aunt and uncle he was gone.

"So what was that all about?" Vernon demanded.

"He was just checking on me," Harry said, "and he reminded me that I could use magic now. But don't worry," Harry hurried on, "unless absolutely necessary, I won't it outside my room while I'm here."

"Well . . . see that don't!" Vernon snapped. He sniffed, gauging when dinner might be ready. He picked up a glass of cheap sherry, and started grumbling about Dudley being late.

"Would you set the table, please?" Petunia asked.

"Sure," Harry answered.

Wednesday, July 2, 1997

Privet Drive was quiet that afternoon. Vernon was at work, clearing the mound of papers that had built up due to his sudden vacation of the week before. Dudley was at driving lessons. Petunia was had just left for her Wednesday 'club meeting'.

Harry Potter was in the basement, rhythmically punching the heavy bag while his mind concentrated on his focus, a peaceful afternoon in the sun. Had anyone tried Legilimency on him, all they would have received would be the sylvan scene at the forefront of Harry's mind, not the undercurrents he was feeling.

Harry was startled out of both his rhythm and his Occlumency when Fawkes suddenly burst into appearance beside him. "Hello, Fawkes," Harry said when his heart beat had slowed a bit. "Are you feeling better?" Fawkes' mournful songs after Dumbledore's death and funeral had impressed itself on the souls of most of the listeners.

Fawkes warbled a few cheerful notes, and then held out a talon. It was only then that Harry saw that there was a note.

Harry hesitated, but finally took the note:

My Dear Harry:

If you are reading this, then I have at least partially failed in my duty to you yet again. Since I have, in many ways, failed you more often than I have helped you, I suspect this admission comes as no shock.

I hope Professor Snape or Russell has delivered my notes to you for finding the Horcruxes. I hope we have destroyed most of them together, but I have great faith in you, my boy, no matter if they are all gone or if three remain.

I hope you can forgive me for not training you more. You have all the basic knowledge, details, and skills you will need to fight and destroy Voldemort if you do not chase him down, but let the fight come to you over the course of time. I believe Professor Snape will continue to function as an ear in Voldemort's camp, and I believe Professor Russell will have trained Miss Granger and even Miss Lovegood in what will be needed in identifying any remaining Horcruxes.

After you have read this, Fawkes will do one of two things. He will disappear, or he shall attach himself to you. If he perches on your left shoulder and sings, he has adopted you as a companion. He mostly fends for himself, but oddly enough seems to enjoy strong mint and cinnamon sweets. If you are at the Dursleys, perhaps you should request that he take you to Headquarters or the Burrow, as I doubt they would welcome him in their home. In any event, he will only appear to you when it is safe for you to leave.

Should Fawkes perch on your right shoulder and sing, however, he is offering you power, a power which may be turned down, and which should neither be turned down nor accepted lightly. He would be, in effect, anointing you a White Warlock.

I am certain you covered this topic in both your Second and Fifth years in History. "Yeah, like I paid attention either time," Harry muttered. Do not think about taking this power because it will make your task of defeating Voldemort easier. You will then fail to gain it. And, if you do take it, you will be the Champion of Light Magic. You will call together a band of paladins, and you will never be 'just Harry', assuming that were still possible in any event.

I do hope you are not offered this burden. If you are, I believe you shall make a better decision for yourself than I did, when I turned it down. It will offer you knowledge more than power, but above all, it confers responsibilities. I did not feel myself up to shouldering them, and then ended up shouldering them in any event.

I leave you with much affection,
Albus D.

Harry shook his head and looked at Fawkes. "Is there something you want to say to me, Fawkes?"

Fawkes trilled somewhat sadly and flew to Harry's right shoulder. "I thought that would happen," Harry said with a sigh as Fawkes sang a brief song of triumph. "Would you mind if I called Hermione and learned a bit more about this before I say yes?"

Fawkes seemed to think about it, and trilled happily. Harry moved to the telephone and made a phone call, glad he had had the foresight to memorize the number.

Hermione answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Hermione. This is Harry. I have a problem."

"What's that? It doesn't sound like you're being attacked or anything."

"No, I'm safe enough, I suppose. Fawkes is here. He brought me a note from Dumbledore."

"About the Horcruxes?" she asked eagerly.

"No. Apparently, I've been selected by someone or something to be something called a White Warlock. Do you know anything about the position?"

There was silence on the line.

"Hermione? Hermione, are you there?"

"Ah, Harry . . . you're the next White Warlock?" Hermione seemed to be in a mild state of shock.

"If I agree, and apparently if Fawkes here thinks I've agreed from the right motives or something."

"Harry, there have only been thirteen confirmed White Warlocks since Merlin, although most people think Dumbledore was one. . . ."

"He said in his note that he turned it down," Harry said.

"Oh. Anyway, the last one was in North America, and he died in 1902. The one before that was in East Africa, and she died in 1818, although I guess that would make her a White Witch. . . ."

"What would be my obligations? Dumbledore says there are 'responsibilities'. . . ."

"Well," Hermione said frankly, "that 'saving people thing' of yours will become stronger. You will have a Council of Twelve to help you."

"Who picks those?" Harry asked.

"It seems as if you're guided to pick eight and you pick four on your own. Eh, Harry. . . ."


"Be careful of who you pick for those four slots. Anytime a White Wizard has been betrayed by someone in his Council, it's been one of the ones he picked. Oh, and you have up to a year to pick them, although most choose them in a few days at most."

"Thank you," Harry said. "Don't tell anyone," he said after a moment.

"I won't," Hermione said.

"I'll be leaving here, I'm not certain where Fawkes will take me," Harry said. "I'll send Hedwig when I can."


"Hermione? Are you crying?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Harry . . . Harry, I know you. You'll do this, so that this nightmare will be over, and so that others can live normal lives, even if that means you can't."

"When have I ever had a chance at a normal life?" Harry asked, for once without bitterness.

"I know," Hermione admitted.

"Let me guess, you suspected this all along," Harry managed to tease.

"No, but Professor Russell mentioned it as a possibility last year," Hermione said. "And of course Professor Binns did give those lectures. . . ."

"I know, I know!" Harry said.

"Harry . . . take care. I love you."

"Don't tell Ron that."

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Hermione retorted.

"I do," Harry admitted. "I love you, too. Goodbye, Hermione."


Harry turned to Fawkes. "Shall I get my things?"

Fawkes blinked, and Dobby suddenly appeared. "Does Mister Harry Potter desire Dobby?" Dobby asked in a confused voice.

"Gather all my possessions," Harry said. "I'm not certain where Fawkes is taking me. . . ."

"Dobby can find Harry Potter, if he wants Dobby to find him and tells Dobby to come ahead of time," Dobby said.

"Great. Bring everything to me in an hour." With that, Fawkes disappeared with Harry.

"Dobby obeys the Master of the Light," Dobby said, bowing in reverence to where Harry had stood.

In Norwich, Hermione Granger laid crying on her bed. It was in part from relief. The odds of their side winning had just increased, if only from a distant, faint chance to more-or-less even odds. She was crying more because the Harry Potter she had loved as a brother would soon be gone. She could not imagine scolding the White Wizard, heir to the magic of Merlin, like a little brother -- or loving him like a brother, either.

That evening, Hedwig delivered identical messages to Ron and Ginny, Hermione, Fred and George, Luna, Neville, Remus, Tonks, Professor Russell, and Hagrid:

Dear :

I have been called away for a time. This note is a portkey, and it will bring you and ten others to me on the morning of Sunday the 13th, between 10:15 and 10:25. I did call Hermione to tell her that I was going, but not where or why. Let that be the password to let you know that I did write this. If you decide not to come, please destroy this, and be assured that I will remain your friend.


Hermione's had a postscript: Tell no one but Prof. Russell about Fawkes or the chance at being a White Wizard. Professor Russell's had the postscript: See Hermione in private about an accurate guess you made. Be prepared to explain to everyone else who didn't pay attention in History. He also sent a list of the people he had invited to come to him.

Just inside the Welsh border, Harry Potter spent the night on the bed in a spare room in the cottage near Godric's Hollow. Fawkes had easily passed through the charms designed to keep him out until he reached his majority, in part because, as the White Warlock, Harry could now be considered 'of age'.

He did not want to spend the night in his parents' room, and the nursery was still a nursery. So he sat on the bed, trying to decide how he was going to go to sleep.

Sandy knocked lightly on the open door, and she and Dobby came in. "Mister Harry cannot sleep?" she asked.

"Quite a great deal has happened today," Harry admitted. "My life is different."

"Perhaps Mister Harry's life is the same, only Mister Harry's view has changed?" Sandy suggested.

"You could be right," Harry admitted. With that, Fawkes began to sing, and Harry laid down, atop the covers, since it was a warm night. Sandy extinguished the candles, and she and Dobby bowed their way out.