Harry Potter and the Old Believers

Chapter 14

Saturday, March 9, 1996

The Gryffindor team rode out of the stadium in triumph on the shoulders of their Housemates. They had triumphed over Slytherin 330 - 60. Harry had once again put in the second string for part of the match.

As Harry approached the castle after his shower, hand-in-hand with Ginny, he saw McGonagall coming towards them. "The Headmaster needs to speak with you, Mister Potter." She glance took in Ginny, and then Ron and Hermione. "Just you. Come along."

Harry of course wondered what was wrong. It was just over two months since the Old Believers had joined in the fight against Voldemort. So far, it had all been little skirmishes; there had been no more great attacks. Three Death Eaters had been killed, while eight more Death Eaters had joined Malfoy in the Wicker Man, where they were stunned most of the time, like Moody had been the year before. Twenty-one of Voldemort's Dementors had been destroyed.

Fudge had been retired from office. Amos Diggory was now the Minister, while Arthur Weasley was his Deputy. Gringotts had reported a complete return to normal business by mid-January.

Harry had had only one trance -- the afternoon after the Druid had held the gathering. Voldemort was certainly angry, but Harry also thought he detected fear.

Doctor Pwy seemed to be going about his normal routine during the day, but Harry could see from the Marauder's Map that he was usually gone from the grounds right after his last class. Pwy was rarely seen at dinner.

Harry wished he had time to see from the map who might be with Dumbledore, but McGonagall was pushing the pace to the Headmaster.

"Anthrax Ripple," McGonagall said with a derisive look. "Up you go, Potter." She turned and left.

Harry knocked quietly on the door, and Dumbledore asked him to come in. Dumbledore, Pwy, Lupin, and Black were sitting, looking at him. Snape was there, but seemed to be ignoring everyone.

Harry greeted them all. He had just seen Sirius a few days before, so neither were as effusive in their greetings as they sometimes were.

"Sit down, Harry," Dumbledore invited.

"We have been made an offer, which to some degree concerns you," Pwy told him simply. "Peter Pettigrew has offered to surrender, on certain conditions."

"And that concerns me how?" Harry asked. "I mean, I understand why you'd tell me if you captured him, but do I get a say in his surrender?"

"To a degree," Pwy answered. "Pettigrew is responsible for some dozen murders from when he framed Black; he killed Cedric Diggory; he is an accomplice to the murder of your parents and Bertha Jorkins; he took your blood for an illegal ritual; and he framed Black. No doubt, he's guilty of more than that."

"No doubt," Sirius growled.

"Now, why does this concern you, Harry? That has to do with who you are. You are the heir of Gryffindor, as I told you before."

"What?" Sirius, Snape, and Remus shouted.

"I see you kept that secret from everyone?" Pwy asked. Harry nodded. He didn't like to think about it, although he had told Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. "What you don't know is that Gryffindor was a direct magical heir of Merlin on his father's side and the heir of two other powerful Old Believer families, one of them mine in fact, on the mother's. In addition, it turns out that your paternal grandparents' direct ancestors made an unknowing habit of marrying other heirs of powerful families. Your mother was a break in the pattern only because her ancestors were not magical heirs, but they were blood heirs of several powerful bloodlines."

"I know you dislike the fact that in some ways you are special," Dumbledore said. "It's a burden you didn't and wouldn't choose, but it is a fact."

Harry didn't want to think about that yet. "And this affects Wormtail and me how?"

"You're a direct heir of Merlin -- and so also a direct heir of the Hereditary High Priests of what you would call the Stone Circles."

Harry broke in on Pwy, "You mean like Stonehenge?"

"Exactly. You are not a priest, let alone a Druid, but you have certain religious rights, should you choose to exercise them. And you saved Pettigrew's life. He is therefore under your protection. We can kill him in a fight, but if he surrenders he can even claim sanctuary," Dumbledore said.

"No!"

"Now, you can make a formal statement stating that because he killed Cedric Diggory in front of you, and drew your blood, he has renounced any protection from you," Pwy told him.

"Exactly what do I have to say?"

Pwy drew out a sheet of parchment. "Read this carefully, Harry."

Harry did, and then he signed it.

"Pettigrew may still escape the worst punishments, if he gives us enough information soon enough, but he will be punished for the rest of his life if he surrenders," Pwy assured Harry and Sirius.

"If he doesn't, I want him," Lupin said.

"What?" Dumbledore and Sirius said in unison.

"If he's captured and condemned to death, I want him. For one night. During the full moon." Lupin's jaw was set. "Human or rat, it doesn't matter."

"NO!" Sirius and Harry said together.

"If anyone deserves to die, he does," Harry agreed with his surrogate uncle. "But you've struggled against prejudice your whole life, and I will NOT let you kill the rat like that."

Lupin looked at Harry. He was still at best average height for his age and despite his heavy training he was still looked a little skinny for any age, even though that slenderness was now fairly well-muscled. But the intensity of his personality was nearly over-whelming at times. Despite how much Snape might rail against it, he was a leader, by birth, blood, and temperament. Lupin might be one of his mentors, but he was also Harry's follower. "Are you sure you want to put it to me that way, Harry?" Remus said quietly. "If you do, don't deny that you're a leader, a chieftain in fact. If you ask it, I will pledge you my oath in battle."

Harry stared at Lupin. Snape looked somewhat sick.

"He's right, Harry," Pwy said. "You are a warrior prince. Accept it, and let us teach you to use that power in you. I'm not a chief; I'm more of a berserker. People, not everyone, but people will follow you. You dislike that responsibility, which can be a good thing -- if it doesn't crush you, it makes you a better, more caring leader."

"Will I really have to?"

"Honestly, Harry?" Pwy asked.

"Yes."

"If Voldemort is not destroyed by your seventeenth birthday, we will probably use your psychic link to take us to him, for the final battle."

"Why wait?" Harry demanded. "Why not go tonight?"

"No, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "It's wrong to think that way. The Doctor shouldn't even have told you yet."

"Albus is half right," Pwy told Harry. "You're not ready yet. I know you hate to hear that, but you're not. You've survived more from luck than from skill so far. By the time you're of age, you will probably be ready. If I decide you're ready before then, then we will go sooner if we need to. If you're not ready for some reason by then, we'll delay it. If we went today, we'd likely all be killed, because right now we aren't sure we can get more than two people to go with you. We're also trying to increase the number. We want at least five. But, when you're ready, we will go together if we have to. I promise you."

"All right," Harry said. "I'll work hard."

"Don't repeat anything of what we've talked about today, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "I know we can trust Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but there are few totally safe places, even at Hogwarts, where secrets spoken stay secrets."

"What do I tell them I was told then? They're going to be more than curious, you know."

"You can say you were sent for to see Sirius, before he goes back into the field with the Cigfrans," Dumbledore said. "We have also destroyed all the known Dementors other than the ones with Voldemort. There are probably still some wild ones in caves around Eur-asia, but not many."

"Any leads on restoring the souls the Dementors have stolen?" Harry asked.

"Actually, maybe," Pwy said. "There is a spell that might work, but it all hinges on so many variables that all it means is instead of no hope, there's so little it might as remain no hope. I'm sure the four of you can figure out most of them, if you want to be depressed. There is even less hope for the Muggles Kissed than the wizards, not that there is any real hope for them."

"Any hope is better than none," Harry said.

"Harry, we'd have to capture a Dementor, which no one really knows how to do, to even have a slight chance," Pwy told him. "Then move the souls out before destroying the Dementor, which we think we might be able to do, but we're not certain exactly how. Then we'd have to figure out how to hold the soul, and of course we'd have to then rejoin it. There's only one step we can even guess at right now."

"Let them work on ideas for one of the missing steps," Lupin said suddenly. "Your lot doesn't think it's possible, so you might miss something. Hermione is the most brilliant student I've run across; and the other three are good at poking holes in theories. Let them run with it."

"Sixth years have to present a research project that combines Defense with either Charms, Creatures, Transfiguration, or Potions," Dumbledore mused. "They may be group or individual. There is no reason not to start early."

"Consider this your group's project; even for Ginny," Pwy told Harry. "Get going."

"Don't let them run themselves into the ground," Sirius instructed Harry. "Even though it means a lot to all three of them."

"I'll do my best. But I need to tell them more."

"We almost forgot the good news," Pwy told Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes, well, relatively good news," Dumbledore assented. "The guardianship papers for Miss Granger came through. She is now legally a ward of the Weasleys."

"And, speaking of guardians, may I assume you don't want to go back to the Dursleys?" Pwy asked.

"No!" Harry, Sirius, and Remus chorused.

"I will check with them, just to make certain they will not allow you back for two weeks," Pwy said, "although if you do by some small chance return, you shall not return alone. If you do not, the question remains, what do we do with you? You are not really safe anywhere in Britain other than with the Dursleys or here, and neither is a good option. Sirius, Remus, and I are needed here, and I do not think Molly Weasley would like you and Ginny and Ron and Hermione totally alone in my valley." He appeared to think. "If I give you a set of detailed guidelines, would you follow them?"

"Probably."

Pwy smiled. "I'll go over them with you four first. If you don't follow them, you'll be booted out of Weston, for good."

"Then almost certainly we can," Harry said with a smile.

"You'll be allowed to continue your training, under the supervision of the scholars in residence. Only speak of any of this and those other matters while in my relaxation room -- it's the safest room in the castle, other than this one. Remember and tell your friends -- no more general discussions of secret information outside that room or this. I'll talk with the Weasleys."

"Thank you."

Hermione managed to force four hours a week for researching their Dementor project into their schedule. There was almost no free time due to the O.W.L.s; all four even gave up the last three Hogsmeade weekends.

By now, Hermione was running the Five and Seventh year Gryffindors like a drill sargent. Even the other Gryffindors started to fall under her discipline.

There were 12 subject areas and 2 required theory areas covered by the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Hermione was taking 10 of the subject areas, the other Fifth year Gryffindors 9. She was helping the others so much in Divination and Muggle Studies, she applied for permission to take those extra areas. Harry, busy helping Hermione with the Muggle Studies Fourth through Seventh Years to take a little pressure off, applied to take that one as well.

Hermione was the only Gryffindor really glad that the Gryffindor -- Ravenclaw Quidditch game was May 18, instead of the last game, June 22 (since the former would decide the Quidditch Cup, everyone concerned wanted more practice time). She wanted to make certain she could take over 2/3s of the Quidditch training time each week (she had agreed to leave the remaining time to help train the team for next year) for her study groups.

"Catch the snitch quickly, Harry," she told him with mock seriousness, "that will give me time to help those Fourth years with their Arithmancy and for you to help the First years with Potions." She was only partially serious, but she had all the Fifth years tutoring the younger students to help them revise for the O.W.L.s, while she set the Seventh years to help the Sixth and Fifth years. Hermione left the bemused Harry and dragged the First and Second years off with Lavender to drill them on their History before the start of the game.

Harry satisfied Hermione -- he out-feinted Cho and caught the snitch eleven minutes into the game. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup and all but assured themselves of the House Cup as well.

Hermione insisted that they wait and celebrate after 8:00 pm. That way, she was able to force everyone to squeeze in two extra study sessions. Everyone complained, but they also all went along. Only Hermione and Ginny saw that the main reason the students all went along with this wasn't because they knew it was for their own good (although they did know that), but because Harry had told them it was the right thing to do. Harry was now the true, the only, leader for the entire House. Even the Sixth and Seventh years followed his lead.

Saturday, June 22, 1996

Exams were over -- the last had been the DADA practical for 4th and 6th years that morning. Even Hermione was exhausted. O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results would be sent to the students in early July, while the rest of the students would learn their final scores the following Friday. The next Saturday, they would be heading off for summer vacation.

It was a beautiful, if slightly cloudy and cool day. The whole school was at the Quidditch field, to cheer on Hufflepuff and Slytherin in the final game of the year.

It was a moderately-low scoring game; neither team showed much skill. Hufflepuff was leading 90 - 60 after four hours of play, when a Sersiant appeared via port-key next to Dumbledore and Pwy. Dumbledore instantly stopped the game.

"ATTENTION! Please land! We have just received word that Dementors and Death Eaters are headed towards the Wicker Man, obviously with the intention of freeing the prisoners. All Professors except Lupin, Pwy, Hooch, Vector, and Sinistra, please start moving students back to the castle when I give the word. Madam Hooch, take the senior Quidditch players on the field and sweep the grounds for anyone not at the match. Professors Vector and Sinistra, stay here until all the students have left, then make certain no students loiter between here and the castle. Professors McGonagall and Snape, take the lead, and take the Weasleys and Miss Granger with you to help make certain the way is clear and to guard the route. Professor Flitwick, please guard the center of the line! Secure all the students in the Great Hall and the adjoining corridor with the rest rooms. Professor McGonagall, Fred and George Weasley, alert the house elves and then return to bring up the rear of the students and guests. Harry Potter, come with me. Professors Lupin and Pwy, you're dismissed."

"Weasley! Granger!" Snape ordered.

"Don't be the hero," Hermione said to Harry. "Do what you have to, but no more." Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek, and Ginny wordlessly did the same.

"Now!" Snape ordered. As Harry walked past Snape, the Professor said, "Good luck, Potter."

"Thank you, sir."

They port-keyed to in front of the Wicker Man. There was only the four of them, plus five Sersiants. "Is this it?" Harry asked.

"For the moment," Pwy said. "Let's see what happens. Lupin, guard our backs, just in case."

"There they are," a Sersiant pointed out. A wave of Dementors crested a hill, about two hundred yards away.

"Pick your target and go," Pwy instructed Harry. They and Dumbledore were soon each destroying a Dementor every five seconds; which was far too slow, even at the slow pace the Dementors were making.

A few moments later, Voldemort and thirty Death Eaters appeared.

Dumbledore half-turned to Harry. "Harry, destroy one more Dementor, and then get on the ground and cover your eyes, unless you want to go blind, alright?"

"Yes, sir." Harry did as he was told, then 'hit the dirt.'

"Un, dau, tri," Harry heard Pwy count, and then, even with his eyes closed, he could see the flash of light.

"Open your eyes, Harry," Pwy said.

Half the Dementors had been destroyed, a quarter seemed more or less incapacitated, and the remaining ones were fleeing. About a third of the Death Eaters were rolling on the ground in agony, while the others were fleeing. Only Voldemort stood on the crest of the hill, looking at them. Then he too turned and left.

The agony of the Death Eaters energized many of the injured Dementors. They quickly recovered and left. When Harry turned to ask Dumbledore why they weren't pursuing the enemy, he saw the Headmaster was sitting on the ground, looking very tired. The other two Llofrudds were now standing with them, as were six Druids.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"We sent a very powerful concentration of light at them, Harry," Pwy answered. "Albus will recover his strength in a few minutes. We could either spring this trap, or have the forces to chase them down; we couldn't hide both. We also asked you to come because you have the power to destroy Dementors and because Voldemort is drawn to you, in order to make certain he came here instead of the school. Just in case you were wondering."

"I was. How did you know I was curious?"

"You're the curious sort. Look and see what we managed, and how."

One of the Death Eaters stood up and raised his hands as he walked down the hill. The Sersiants and the Llofrudds moved up the hill, the Llofrudds destroying what was left of the Dementors.

Pettigrew was allowed to approach the group, although there were five wands trained on him, just in case.

"Headmaster, Remus, Harry."

"Changing sides again, Peter?" Remus asked.

"Yes, for the last time."

"Come with us," one of the Druids said. "The Cigfrans have questions."

Peter smirked, and walked away from them. Lupin's wrist was suddenly grabbed by Dumbledore. "He's not worth it, Remus." They saw Remus had his wand drawn again. Pettigrew disappeared.

"What will happen to him?" Remus asked.

"Life in prison, or death by any means of his choice, with the option of being made a ghost," Pwy said, coming up to them. "I think I'll suggest we bind his ghost to a tree that has a lot of woodpeckers."

"Can you really do that?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes; we can control ghosts fairly expertly. That's why Peeves is so frightened of me," Pwy said. "That book you got last summer only has the basics as far as we're concerned."

"If you can control ghosts and bind them to something alive like a tree, couldn't you control the souls captured by the Dementors, and maybe control the Dementors? In a sense, that binding is the mirror of our problem. Then we could hold the Dementors, extract the souls, and maybe rejoin them before destroying the Dementor?"

Everyone stared at Harry. "Athro Potter," a Druid said to Harry, "we should have realized it was possible. We shall start research on it as soon as you and Granger arrive at the West. . .I mean at Weston. It may work."

"Err, thank you, sir."

"Would you and your friends care to learn the ways of the People?" the Druid asked. Harry now realized it was the same one who had addressed the crowd after New Years.

Harry looked puzzled. "He means, would you four like to learn enough to decide if you might want to become Old Believers," Remus told him.

"Oh! Yes. At least I'm sure Hermione and I would, and if we do, Ginny and Ron would like to know, too."

The Druid planted his staff into the ground and pulled back his hood. Wild black hair and intelligent, intense blue eyes were the first things Harry saw. Then his eyes went back to the hair. "My name is Harri Myrddin; and we're such distant cousins that we shouldn't even be considered relations, but somehow, I think we are."

Harry smiled and shook the Druid's hand. "Cefnder," Harry said.

"Cousin," Harri agreed.