Smoke

Smoke IX Sunday, March 9, 1997

"Good morning, Miss Granger."

"Good morning, sir," Hermione replied, a little out of breath.

"Let's see, you're not normally late for anything, so may I take it you were already at the Infirmary this morning?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered, a little nervously.

"And how are Mister Potter and Mister Weasley?" Russell asked. Ron was still recovering from the poisoning, and Harry had been hit in the head by a Bludger bat the previous afternoon.

"Ron is doing really well," Hermione said. "Harry says he's doing well, but it's difficult to tell with him. He's too stoic about such things for his own good."

"That's not surprising, considering his upbringing," Russell reminded her.

"Professor, did you play Quidditch?" Hermione asked, curious.

"I was a reserve Beater in the Fifth and Seventh years, and I played my Sixth," Russell responded. "Why?"

"I know it's mostly me, but I just don't see the sense in putting as much . . . well, as much of everything into a game as so many people do. Even people who don't play invest so much of themselves into their teams." Hermione shrugged. "It just doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Especially a game as violent as Quidditch. I'm surprised it's even allowed, especially at a school."

"I have to admit, I can't get as enthusiastic about organized sports as most people, although I'm not as far along in my disdain for them as you. So far as I know, no one has come up with a really good answer as to why they are so popular to watch, let alone play, although there are plenty of good theories, especially among the Muggles. And," Russell went on, "considering how much more resilient we are than Muggles, Quidditch isn't too terribly violent compared to games like Rugby, American football, and ice hockey, at least not the game I saw in Philadelphia back in 1976. Three fights, one brawl, and numerous missing teeth." He shook his head. "Hogwarts was actually a much more competative place when I went to school here. Each House had dueling teams organized by year, gob stones and exploding snap were much more prevalent, there were quiz competitions and chess tournaments, broom racing, and so much more." He smiled at the memories, and then looked at Hermione. "You would have enjoyed the competitive potions making. I'm surprised Professor Slughorn did not restart the practice this year."

"Professor Snape ended it, I take it?" Hermione asked.

"I believe so," Russell agreed. "Professor Dumbledore does not have much belief in the value of competition. He ended the dueling clubs in the 1970s when they got too violent, and all the other competitions have died out since, other than Quidditich and gob stones, and not many play gob stones anymore. I rather believe, if he had his way, Quidditch would be ended as well, but the Board and all of his Heads of House want it continued, and he can't fight both."

Russell smiled at Hermione. "Eh, enough of such things, unless there was something else? No? Then, did you invite Miss Lovegood to join us at Ten-thirty?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione said happily.

"Let's start with some basic Occlumency, and get you started on the practical revealing charms. Then, when Miss Lovegood arrives, we shall see what kind of tutor you have been."

It was 11:22 when Russell called a halt to Hermione and Luna's drills. "Well done," he told them both. "You both have a good feel for the work. If you can spare the time, I'll see you both next weekend. Miss Granger, perhaps I can see you tomorrow evening."

"Yes, sir!"

Monday, March 10, 1997

"You seem to be in a good mood tonight, Professor," Hermione said.

"I am," Russell replied. "Tonight, after all, young Mister Potter will reveal Professor Slughorn's memory, and everyone can get started on some real work."

"Oh . . . well, I don't know that Harry has succeeded," Hermione said tentatively. "I mean, what with Ron being poisoned and everything. . . ."

"Mister Potter had nearly two months before Mister Weasley's accidental poisoning." Russell scowled. "I know some allowances must be made, since he is only sixteen, but if this is how he fights Voldemort, we might as well all curl up and admit defeat now."

"That's not entirely fair," Hermione protested. "I mean, how is Harry to persuade a teacher into revealing information?"

"Have none of you ever succeeded in doing that before?" Russell demanded.

"To be honest, yes, but you must remember that Professor Slughorn isn't as open as Professor Hagrid, and Hagrid is very fond of Harry. . . ."

"I have spent rather more time with Professor Slughorn than I might otherwise have preferred since his return," Russell growled. "I have many other things I could do with my time, but I've been to tea in his rooms, and had him in mine, some two dozen times all told this year. All to very very gently reenforce the idea that Harry Potter is indeed the Chosen One, and that the good Professor will be able to benefit by latching on to Potter. It's his natural state of mind, but I've been reenforcing it. You should see Professor Snape nearly bite his tongue off making certain he does not put down Potter whenever Professor Slughorn is within hearing distance. I assure you, that is not typical behavior on his part."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, we have some work to do," Russell said, "but bend your mind to finding someway to help your friend figure out some way of getting at that memory."

"There must be some other way. . . ." Hermione nearly begged.

"I could take it from him," Russell said. "I'm very good at that."

"Then why don't you? Why leave it up to Harry?"

"Because he has protected that memory well. Therefore, my way would leave Horace nearly a vegetable," Russell retorted. "Would you really want me to go destroy and Horace's mind, just because he's stubborn and because you and your friend can't flatter the old man into giving up his secret?"

"No," Hermione said, slightly aghast at the very suggestion. "That would be horrible!"

"Then I would advise you to help Mister Potter. He has to be able to flatter that memory out somehow!"

"I'll try, sir."

Monday, April 27, 1997

"Professor!"

Russell turned around and saw Hermione Granger running towards him. "Take a deep breath, Miss Granger, and tell me what's wrong."

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, looking around carefully. Russell quickly cast some privacy spells. "Now, tell me," he urged.

"We finally persuaded Harry to take a dose of his Felix Felicis potion, to help him get the memory," Hermione said, "but instead of going towards Professor Slughorn's he's gone out to Professor Hagrid's!"

"As odd as that sounds, it will likely work out very well," Russell assured her. He thought a moment. "Still, it won't hurt to keep an eye on this. Go back to your common room and hope for the best."

Hermione gave him a very strong look. "What?" he asked, thrown off.

"I never figured you for a Cannons' fan," Hermione said, before hurrying off.

Russell smiled, took out a piece of chalk, and in less than thirty seconds had inscribed the proper magical symbols on himself and said the correct spells so that he was invisible.

By the time Russell had tracked down Harry, he and Professor Slughorn were just parting company, having made arrangements to meet back at Hagrid's. Russell had been told the story of Aragog and the acromantulas the summer after Potter's Second year by the Headmaster. He was not surprised that Hagrid was mourning the animal. Hagrid was attached to many animals, and having a sentient one as a friend, even one like Aragog, would of course appeal to Hagrid.

'Slughorn must have made a perfect batch of Felix Felicis', Russell thought as he watched Harry manipulate first Hagrid and then Slughorn. 'It's been a while, alright twenty years, since I've attempted a potion that complicated, but maybe I should try.' He almost gave in and made an audible snort as he saw Harry do a decent regeneration spell that refilled the wine bottles.

It took Harry almost two more hours to get the memory, but Russell saw that he had. 'I wish I could see it,' Russell thought, 'then I would know for certain that we're on the trail. No, I had better let Dumbledore do it on his own.'

Russell followed Potter back to the castle. One little slight slip on the grass by the teen showed that the potion was wearing off. Russell moved ahead, and , sure enough, the castle was locked. He undid the lock and slipped through the door just before Potter turned the corner.

"Who's there! Reveal yourself!"

Russell brushed off a rune and appeared. "Quiet, you idiot!" Russell hissed. "Now, get out of here!"

"Who are you telling to. . . ." Snape snarled back.

"If you don't shoo, you'll ruin months of work. The Headmaster will tell you when he's ready!"

Snape scowled, but took himself off. Russell had just managed to reestablish his invisibility when Potter came in. Russell followed as Potter avoided Peeves and made it back to the entrance of the Gryffindor common room. He listened to the exchanges with the Gryffindor guardian and then with the Gryffindor ghost. He only stopped trailing Potter when the boy started up the spiral staircase to the Headmaster's office.

Tuesday, April 28, 1997

"Good morning, gentlemen," Dumbledore said. "I hope you don't mind being called this early."

Snape and Russell both shrugged and drank coffee.

"Last night, Mister Potter brought me the last clue I needed, the evidence that Voldemort did indeed do what I suspected he had done."

"So how many of these Horcruxes did the Dark Lord make?" Snape asked.

"I am now certain he made at least five before being disembodied," Dumbledore said. "The diary, Slytherin's ring, both now destroyed, and Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and some relic of Madam Ravenclaw's. From Severus' evidence of Voldemort's changing appearance, he made the Sixth Horcrux before being reembodied. I believe that was his killing the old Muggle at the Riddle House."

"Then why would he still want to kill Potter himself?" Russell asked. "I would think he would want to kill him to create the final Horcrux. Why take the risk to split himself before regaining his body?"

"Other than to prove the point that he is the more powerful than his prophesied enemy, that I cannot say," Dumbledore admitted.

"Could he have decided to go beyond a total of seven?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore frowned, and Russell jumped in, "Yes, perhaps he decided the magic number would be seven splits, making eight parts, rather than six splits, making seven."

"That is possible," Dumbledore admitted. "Would anyone around him know?"

"Certainly not," Snape said firmly. "I doubt if anyone even knows about the Horcruxes."

"What about Pettigrew?" Russell asked.

"He would not KNOW," Snape said, "however, it is certainly possible he has figured out something close to the truth. He does have a certain sly intelligence."

"He scored O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in all his subjects, even if most were A's," Dumbledore reminded Snape, "and he was always much better in theory than he was in practice." He stopped in thought. "Actually, his only higher scores were E's in Runes and History and O's on his Arithmancy O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. While one can never rely on his character, you must never underestimate his intelligence."

He turned to Snape. "You know what to do?"

"I do," Snape retorted with his trademark sneer. "I disagree, I resent it, but I will do what I must." He got up and left.

Dumbledore turned to Russell. "How are your assignments going?"

"Miss Granger is progressing brilliantly," Russell replied. "She will have all the knowledge she needs to help Potter by the end of the term. It will need maybe a day or two of intense work after that to bring it all together in context. She has done most of the work with Miss Lovegood, and she'll need more tutoring, of course, but if anything happens to Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood will be there to take up the slack."

"I have to admit, I had some doubts about adding Miss Lovegood, but I am glad things are working out."

"You had some major doubts about my tutoring Miss Granger," Russell pointed out.

"True," Dumbledore admitted. "I still believe Harry will have all he needs to accomplish his quest by himself. Still, he needs his friends."

"And I think you place too much trust in luck, instinct, and Higher Magic," Russell retorted. "And 'needs his friends'? After you left him in that hellhole of a Muggle 'home', you're lucky he can work with anyone! Tell me, if he hadn't learned some form of affection with his friendships, what would have happened when he was possessed at the Ministry?"

"Voldemort might have seized control," Dumbledore had to admit. "I know I can make mistakes, John."

Russell ignored that. "Now, Miss Granger has enough to think about this term, and that is even more true of Miss Lovegood. I have created copies of the fourteen books I have that have information on Horcruxes. I intend to give them to the girls at the end of term, unless you have some decent objections."

"I suspect that I will have little influence at some point between now and the beginning of the next school year."

"Albus. . . ."

"Would you care to throw for me, and predict which is the most likely month?"

"Not really," Russell admitted.

Hermione looked at her mentor nervously.

"So, did Mister Potter tell you about the six Horcruxes?" Russell asked.

Hermione nodded. "You knew, of course?"

"I knew that was the Headmaster's theory, and I agreed that it was the most likely scenario. Now we know. You will find, Miss Granger, that there are often times when the best theory turns out totally wrong."

"True. And you've mentioned several times that you've met with peolpe from outside Europe, from Tibet, India. . . ."

"Australia, the Americas, Africa, any place where they have knowledge of soul magic," Russell agreed. "You don't know nearly as much as I do about the subject, Hermione, but you probably know more than anyone else in Britain, other than myself, the Headmaster, and Voldemort. I have copies of fourteen books on Horcruxes and soul magic, and another twenty-odd books on related magic, which I'll give you after the term ends. You will be ready to help Mister Potter."

"You won't?"

"I will if I can," Russell said. "It's best to be prepared for all possibilities."

"Which is why you're having me train Luna, in case something happens to the Headmaster, you, and me."

"Exactly. I'll have at least two dozen of the works copied for her as well by then."

Hermione looked very sad. "War sucks," she said.

"It does," Russell agreed. "It sucks because of all the harm it does, and that includes all the compromises we have to make in order to fight it."

Hermione squared her shoulders and looked Russell in the eyes. "I understand, sir. What do we do next?"