Harry Potter and the Emerald Sceptre

~~~~ Chapter 10 ~~~~

Chit Chat

"Good evening, Harry," said Voldemort. Pain seared through Harry's scar.

"Hello, Tom," replied Harry, raising his hand to his scar, the other slowly creeping towards the pocket which held his wand.

"Harry, I would appreciate it if you did not call me that," said Voldemort quietly. Harry didn't like the sound of that. Voldemort had screamed at Dumbledore when he had called him that in the Ministry last year. Voldemort was being extraordinarily restrained which probably meant that he wanted something. 'What can it be?' Harry thought to himself. 'If he wanted to kill me he'd have done it by now.' Harry made a mental note to keep an eye on Voldemort's wand arm.

"What do you want?" asked Harry, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He had only left the Headmaster's office a few minutes ago and already his anger was boiling. Could this be what Voldemort wanted, to get at Harry, make him angry enough to 'succumb to the dark side' as Dumbledore had put it?

"To talk to you, Harry. I considered sending you a message in your dreams, but I felt it needed a more personal touch."

"You can't send me messages anymore. Occlumency..."

"Occlumency protects you from weak attacks, not mine. Anyway, in your somewhat fragile state, you would not be able to block any intrusion. For example, I sent you a vision of my Death Eaters arriving back early and empty handed."

"No you didn't; that was me in your mind."

"Think about what you are saying, Harry. You dreamt it half an hour after they Disapparated. When you Apparate, it does not take thirty minutes to reappear. I simply waited until you were asleep and then let you see what had happened, a sort of notification of my visit here tonight. It is so rude to gate crash, do you not agree?" His calm appearance and soft soothing tone was getting to Harry. Voldemort showed no hint of anger in his voice. Had Harry not known what Voldemort had done, he would not have imagined this man to be a murderer. Harry could feel himself being drawn in by the voice.

'Snap out of it, Potter,' Harry cursed himself. 'This man killed your parents. Stop fannying about and tell him to leave.' Harry opened his mouth to tell Voldemort to go and do something he would not dare to say in front of McGonagall, but then changed his mind and shut it. He watched Voldemort for signs of a reaction. The Dark Lord sat unmoving, simply staring at Harry, his red eyes boring straight through Harry's green ones. Harry found himself battling with his curiosity. He knew that he should tell him to leave, but he desperately wanted to know what he wanted. In the end, his curiosity won.

"You want to chat? Fine. Say what you have to say and then leave."

"I intend to. Have a seat, Harry." Against his better judgement, Harry sank onto Ron's bed, three feet away from the man who had murdered his parents. Mad-Eye would kill him if he ever heard about this. Voldemort took out his wand and Harry immediately reached for his. He whipped it out of his pocket and raised it to Voldemort's face. Voldemort merely gave him a look that said 'Stop messing around' and placed his own wand on the table next to Harry's bed. He turned back to stare at Harry. There was that stare again. Harry knew he had the upper hand. The Prophecy said that he had a fifty-fifty chance. He could kill him now and be done with it. All he had to do was say two words. All he had to do was concentrate on all the pain that Voldemort had caused him, summon all his hatred, and say the words. It was so simple, but he couldn't do it. If he failed? Voldemort also had a fifty-fifty chance. If Harry failed, Voldemort would kill him without a second thought. Harry knew he couldn't kill him. He also realised what Voldemort was doing; it was a test of trust. Harry knew this was wrong; he should never leave himself unarmed. Harry, against every instinct he had, placed his wand on the table next to Voldemort's.

"I am aware of your fatal curiosity, Harry. So let us get your inevitable questions out of the way first."

"How did you get in here?" said Harry immediately.

"You could say I just popped in." A small smile crept across his snake-like features.

"Impossible; no one can Apparate in or out of Hogwarts," Harry shot back with an air of confidence. He knew Voldemort was lying. Hermione had told him about the Anti-Apparation barriers so many times that, after five years, it had finally sunk in.

"That is true but; you see, there is one tiny flaw in the barriers," said Voldemort calmly. "The Founders assumed that when they died, their children would take over the school and then their children and so on. That was the custom in those far off days. One was expected to take over from one's father. For this reason, the Heirs of the Founders can Apparate in and out of the castle anytime they wish. Hence, here I am."

"What about the other barriers?" asked Harry. He was sure that it couldn't be that simple. Dumbledore would have other barriers in place to stop this kind of thing.

"Yes, they work on repelling anyone who bears the Dark Mark. I, however, do not bear the Mark. It is a symbol of ownership; I use it on others, but I have no use for one myself. Other barriers merely require a bit of research. All it takes is time. I waited thirteen years to get my body back, Harry. Patience is a skill I had to learn long ago."

"So you're saying that you can pop into my bedroom anytime you wish?"

"Exactly."

"Convenient."

"Extremely. Would you like to learn?"

"Can't. Remember no one, aside from you, can Apparate inside Hogwarts."

"I can, and you can."

"What?"

Voldemort gave Harry a somewhat exasperated stare and then sighed.

"Come on, Harry. Put two and two together," he said rather patronisingly.

"Are you telling me that I'm the Heir of Gryffindor?"

"Exactly," said Voldemort, the smile of triumph reappeared on his face. He once more looked into Harry's eyes, but then his expression changed from a smile to a look of curiosity. "They never told you, did they?" A shocked look flashed across his face. "That might explain..." he muttered.

"You're lying. That's impossible," said Harry defiantly. The Sorting Hat wouldn't have hesitated if he was the Heir of Gryffindor. It would have sensed Gryffindor in him, rather than telling him that he should be in Slytherin. "The Sorting Hat would've put me straight into Gryffindor if I was."

"Didn't it?" asked Voldemort. He paused for a few seconds. "No, it didn't, did it? Interesting." The look of triumph flashed appeared on his face but disappeared a second later.

"It wanted me in Slytherin. It sensed your power in me."

"From the night I failed to kill you," concluded Voldemort. "Interesting."

"Which means that you're wrong about me being the Heir of Gryffindor. It's a lie!"

"Is it? You lived at Godric's Hollow. You pulled Gryffindor's own sword from the Sorting Hat."

"How do you know about that?" asked Harry, taken aback by Voldemort's knowledge.

"Although the diary was destroyed, I was able to salvage the memory of that encounter in the Chamber. Harry, we are two of a kind. The others have all been killed; Ravenclaw died of cancer just after I fell and well, you know about Hufflepuff."

"I do?"

"He fell at the graveyard."

"Cedric?" The image of Cedric, spread-eagled on the grave, a blank lifeless look in his eyes, flashed through Harry's mind. Kill the spare! He desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Yes. A pity; had I known who he was, I would never have had him killed."

"Why don't I believe you? Anyhow I don't think you came here to tell me this, did you? Why are you really here?"

"Harry, we are two of a kind," he repeated. "The last of the Heirs. Think of what we could do together."

"Mass murder, rape, pillage, slaughter," Harry counted on his fingers. "Sounds bloody wonderful."

"A little cynical, Harry. Although my methods are a little extreme in your view, they are, nonetheless a means to an end. I too wish to end this war; to bring order to chaos. To rebuild society and make this world a decent place to live in."

"And how does killing everyone in the society contribute to rebuilding it?" asked Harry.

"I am ridding the country of those who disrupt society, Muggles and Mudbloods."

"They are human, too. They have just as much of a right to live as you or I," replied Harry.

"Please," said Voldemort unable to keep the malice from his voice. "We run and hide from Muggles when we are clearly more powerful then they are. We should be able to stand proud for what we are, not cower in the shadows."

"So should they. Even if I agree that we shouldn't hide, it doesn't mean that we should swap their dictatorship for our own. If anything, we should co-exist peacefully."

"We both know they would never accept us. They would fear and despise us. Your uncle was not a one-off case. We would be hunted, persecuted, feared and damned. We can never be equals. It is either us or them. Human nature fears what it doesn't understand. I am trying to make the world a better place for people like you and I."

"You mean Halfbloods?" said Harry cockily. Voldemort looked like he wanted to curse Harry right then and there. Harry had just insulted him in the worst way possible. He had brought up the fact that he was sub-human by his own decree. Voldemort's eyes flashed to his wand on the table, but he never moved for it.

"Silence! Don't ever say that again," he hissed, his anger ever more prominent. His calm demeanour was gone.

"By your own belief you are sub-human. I wonder what your Death Eaters would say if they found out?" said Harry thoughtfully.

"They would not believe you!" hissed Voldemort, struggling to regain his calm appearance.

"True," said Harry trying to get under Voldemort's skin once more. "I told Bellatrix last year. She didn't believe me. You've brainwashed them very well."

"We are digressing from the point!" spat Voldemort. "The point is that I am trying to improve society for people like you and I."

"These Nazi tactics aren't going to win you any wars. The more you kill the more your own people will turn against you."

"Fear will keep them in line," shot back Voldemort.

"Hardly the ideal society when they're too afraid to use their God-given rights."

"Who said their rights would be given by God?" a smile crept across the Dark Lord's face at this. Realisation suddenly dawned on Harry; he remembered when he had overheard Ruth Strugnell in the year below telling Ginny about her Bat Mitzvah. Something clicked inside Harry's head.

"So that's it, is it? You think you are God," Harry let out a light sarcastic laugh. "The Jews believe their God's name to be too holy to speak; that's why you encouraged your name not to be used. You're living in a dream world, Riddle."

"Harry, this banter serves no purpose," said Voldemort. Harry saw a flush of anger at the use of his name but he managed to mask it and return to his cool outer shell. The soothing voice was back. Harry tried not to be affected by it. He tried to concentrate on the words, not the voice. "Can we please get back to the original topic? Do you have any other questions before I begin?"

"What have you done with Malfoy? The little one, that is."

"He has sided with me; he has seen sense. Any more questions?" Harry's mind had blanked; he couldn't think of any good questions. He shook his head. "Now on to my pitch," said Voldemort.

"Let me guess," said Harry. "You want the prophecy in return for letting me go?"

"No, Harry," replied Voldemort with a bored tone in his voice. "I do not care about the Prophecy. Think about it Harry; a Prophecy is, in itself, a means of changing that which it has predicted. Do you follow?"

"No."

"Let's say that a Seer foretold that Mr. Smith was going to be killed at three o'clock in Trafalgar Square. If Mr. Smith learned of the prophecy he could simply avoid being in Trafalgar Square at that time. Therefore, the prophecy was wrong. You may know what Trelawney foretold, you may not; it is at this point irrelevant, as we both know the general content. You can destroy me. Because Dumbledore had heard this he did not even attempt to kill me in the Ministry last year. Had he done so, I would be dead and the prophecy would have been proved wrong."

"How do you know that he wasn't meant to let you go and the prophecy really is true?" asked Harry.

"Do you now see the imprecise nature of Divination? I give it very little value," said Voldemort. "They are like reading your star signs in a Muggle newspaper. They are vague; often gibberish, and you try to match events to what you have heard. I believe that destiny and fate are a superstitious fantasy. I do not believe in them."

"You believed in it enough to kill my parents!" spat Harry.

"And look where that got me," replied Voldemort calmly. "I have no intention of taking Prophecies at face value anymore."

"You still haven't answered my question," replied Harry.

"True. The answer is, I don't know if the Prophecy is correct or not. I no longer wish to know the prophecy because I believe that together we can change the future. Does that answer your question?"

"For now," replied Harry.

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort. "It is not just you who can kill me, but anyone else can and I can kill you. However, I do not wish to do so. As I have said twice already, we are the two most powerful wizards in the world; even your precious Dumbledore doesn't come close. We should be ruling these people, Harry, not hiding from them. For years we have lived in their shadow, protecting them and yet, despite our obvious superiority, we have let ourselves be ruled by them. I am only trying to take back what is ours."

"What gives you the right to decide whom the world belongs to? Don't you see that we need them and they need us? If you eradicate them, our way of life would collapse."

"A strong leader is needed to bring us through - namely, me."

"So this is all about you, isn't it?"

"Oh, spare me the preaching," sighed Voldemort. "I know all about you, how you were kept in a cupboard for years. After all that neglect, your mouth still waters at real power, doesn't it, Harry? You want friends, don't you Harry? You want to feel loved. Popularity comes with power. Join me and I will make you a god."

"Real friendship doesn't come from power. Do you really expect me to join you after what happened to my parents, myself, Sirius, Cedric, not to mention thousands of other innocent people who have died because of you?"

"Not at first, no," said Voldemort slowly. "I understand that there is a lot of hatred in you. You long to throttle me right here and now, don't you? This anger is bottled up. Release it, Harry; you could be more powerful than you could possible imagine. I could make you immortal; I could show you more than Dumbledore could in a millennium. I can offer you anything you want. Bella tells me you have a girl, Harry. Why stop at one? You could have hundreds, you could have servants to carry out your every request; you could do whatever you want. Freedom, Harry, is never having to say you are sorry."

"I never knew you listened to Muggle music. My answer is still going to be no."

"I know. You were never going to trust me after one meeting." Harry cut him off.

"Let me guess; now you threaten everyone who I 've ever known and loved," said Harry cynically.

"Normally, the answer would be yes," confessed Voldemort. "I have been known, in the past, to use forms of persuasion that you would disapprove of, but that is not your affair. You are the subject here, Harry. Such tactics would not work on you. You see, you are more powerful than most, all in fact. While I could eventually make you join me by those means, it would not be, as I would want. Let me explain. You don't fear me, Harry; I see it in your eyes. You only fear what I could do to those around you. You are willing to give your life to protect those you care about. If I were to kill your..." again Harry cut him off.

"Parents, aunt, uncle, cousin, godfather, friend, and pet owl? Newsflash, you already have!"

"In your parents case, I was ignorant; it was you I wanted. Your aunt and uncle were not to be harmed; their deaths were unfortunate, but not my doing. It may or may not please you to learn that those involved have been punished."

Harry wondered what he meant. Macnair, Mulciber, Goyle, all the people at the shopping centre were captured. Had they been freed? Would they then tell him that the Dursleys were alive? Hopefully, Dumbledore had wiped their memories before jailing them. Would that also mean that Snape had been punished? Harry felt the smallest amount of pity for the Potions master, but quickly squashed the feeling. Voldemort was still talking.

"Your godfather was not my doing and as far as the Heir of Hufflepuff is concerned, I have already explained that I did not know who he was. But we are digressing. The point is, that if I were to continue with this method, you may join me - not by your choice, but out of fear for them. While this is enough to get most to do what I want, it is not enough in your case. You, of all people, must join me of your own free will."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because then, you would be willing to use all your power. To fully unleash your potential, I would also know that I could trust you. Whereas, if you join me under duress, you would hold back. You would report everything to Dumbledore and your heart wouldn't be in it because you wouldn't believe in the cause. Belief, Harry, is very important in what we are doing. You must join me of your own free will. I am therefore offering you a taster."

"And what would that be?"

"There goes your fatal curiosity again. You really must watch that, Harry," smiled Voldemort. "What do you want? How about Bellatrix? As useful as she is, what if I were to call her and let you kill her? She took you godfather from you. Avenge Sirius Black. Kill her, Harry!"

"The thrill of the hunt is in the chase. Anyway, I 've no desire to kill her."

"Liar!" Voldemort's eyes flared with triumph. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't long for revenge, on her and on young Malfoy. He took great pleasure in telling me what he did to your one true love. I could give you his head - pickled in a jar, atop a lance, stuffed and mounted as a paperweight - however you want it, Harry. The world is your oyster."

"There is nothing you can offer me that I want."

"I wouldn't be too sure. My real offer is a valuable skill that will also prove that I am telling the truth. Now do as I say; you will come to no harm. Close your eyes." Harry didn't trust him; he knew that Voldemort was up to something. Closing his eyes would leave him open to attack. What was Voldemort up to?

"I take it from your lack of action that you don't trust me," said Voldemort. "Take your wand if it makes you feel safer. You will need it."

Harry's curiosity got the better of him. What was this 'new skill', he wondered? He had to know. He took his wand and held it in his right hand. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the mystery that was to come.

"Can you picture the room around us?" came Voldemort's voice from in front of him. Harry didn't like this. He couldn't see what the Dark Lord was doing, and he was the last person who should be trusted.

"Yes," answered Harry.

"Then do so, Harry. Picture every detail in your mind. Have you got a clear picture?" Harry tried to focus on the room. He pictured his bed, the other beds, the doors and the window. He had lived here for five years; he knew every inch of the room. He managed to hold a clear image in his mind.

"Yes."

"Now imagine that you are sitting on the bed over there, the last one by the door. The one labelled D. Thomas. Imagine that you are sitting on it. Imagine the look of the room from that point. Concentrate hard. Now, believe you are there; concentrate hard. Right, hold the image in your mind, concentrate hard and say 'Apparacius.' You will need to hold your wand absolutely still. Do not move at all; just say the word." Harry took a breath.

"Apparacius!" Harry felt a whoosh and his eyes instinctively flew open. He was sitting on Dean's bed.

"Well done Harry," smiled Voldemort.

"What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious? You have just Apparated across the room."

"I did?"

"Yes, and quite quietly as well. Apparating is a skill that is easy to learn but difficult to master. The pops you hear when you disappear and reappear are measures of your skill. Experienced wizards can do it with a slight pop. Those who have just passed their tests or those injured or startled will sound like a gun going off. You sounded like a whip crack; impressive for the first attempt. To pass a test you have to be under a certain number of decibels; I believe you have just passed; the first type anyway. There are three types of Apparation, and you have just learned the first. That should be enough for Albus to grant you permission for the other types. "

"How did I do it?"

"To Apparate this way, simply picture the place; remember to picture it as if you were standing on the spot where you wish to appear. If you picture it from the air, then you will appear in the air and fall. Not a good idea. Then concentrate really hard, say the spell, and hopefully you will appear there. With practice you will not even need to say the word or use a wand; you will be able to do it with just your mind. Just don't land on top of someone or halfway through a wall. Splinching, I am told, is very painful.

"There is an urban legend about a man who splinched himself so spectacularly that every time he goes to the toilet, his waste products would appear somewhere in London. The validity of this rumour is questionable but it encouraged people not to Apparate carelessly. You also have to have been to the point where you will be Apparating to or be able to see it.

"The other two types of Apparating are much harder to learn; they deal with Apparating to places you have not been to already and Apparating to foci - that would be the plural of focus, Harry. These are things like people, which you can Apparate to. You will be taught this and the various rules and laws surrounding Apparation. There is only wand work to begin with, so it must come from the wizard. Many adults are too weak to master this. Eventually, you will be able to do it without a wand or the spell. You will just be able to move from place to place by the power of your mind. This first type of Apparating is very easy and nine out of ten people can do it first time. The other two types are much harder, but I am confident you will have no trouble. Dumbledore will have to arrange lessons to stop you Apparating illegally."

"Who says I'll ever do it again?" shot back Harry. He was ultimately aware that he had just Apparated without a licence and it would affect his chances of being granted a provisional licence. He was surprised that Magical Law Enforcement officers or even Aurors hadn't come crashing through the door already. This raised another point - Ron, Dean, Seamus or Neville could come through the door any minute. He needed to get Voldemort off site as soon as possible.

"Try and go for a month without being tempted to," said Voldemort. "You will fail within a week. Anyway, would you like to try again?" Harry knew he shouldn't be doing this; he was accepting help from the enemy and was subconsciously building trust in him, something he must avoid. 'Remember what Dumbledore said!' Harry thought to himself. He needed to get rid of Voldemort. However, the Dark Lord seemed to be enjoying himself and didn't look like he was ready to leave. How was Harry going to get him out of the castle? He could always suggest that they Apparate to somewhere far away, but then Voldemort would follow him back. He needed to damage his pride enough for him to want to leave. Suddenly, an idea came to him. He knew how he could make Voldemort look like a fool in front of a lot of people. Luckily, Voldemort had been in Slytherin House so he did not know the layout of Gryffindor Tower.

"OK," said Harry. "Let's try to go through the wall this time." He pointed to one of the walls; on the other side of which was the sixth year girl's dormitory. Voldemort did not know this. He would get a nice surprise when he landed. So would any girls occupying it, but Voldemort would literally be kicked out before he could do anything to them.

"As you wish, Harry," said Voldemort, a smile creeping over his face. He thought that Harry was being sincere; he thought he was winning Harry over. He deserved exactly what he was about to get. "You go first and I will follow you."

"OK."

"Ready, Harry? One, two, three; go!" Harry Disapparated, but he didn't reappear in the Girl's dormitory; instead he landed in the common room. Everyone jumped back as he appeared in the middle of the room; silence fell and all eyes turned to him. But they were soon distracted by the arrival of Tom Riddle. As expected, Harry heard a loud, ear splitting scream and Voldemort came flying down the stairs from the girl's dormitory and landed in a heap on the floor. The security alarm had stopped a male entering the girl's dormitory. Screams erupted around them as the Dark Lord got to his feet.

"That was not funny, Potter."

"I beg to differ, Tom. I thought that was bloody hilarious," grinned Harry.

"I offer you immortality, and you do this to me," spat Voldemort. He turned to a nearby girl and wandlessly summoned her wand to him. Harry raised his in an instant, pointing his at Voldemort's throat. They faced each other, wand pointed at each other's face, their tips a mere few inches from each other's nose.

"Back to square one, eh Riddle?" sighed Harry. "What now? Am I too valuable to kill? Or has this little incident damaged your pride enough to be worthy of the Killing Curse?" Harry saw anger stir behind Voldemort's eyes. There was absolute silence in the room. No one moved; you could have heard a pin drop. Seconds ticked by. What was Voldemort going to do? Harry had wound him up very tightly. He was clearly considering his next course of action.

"TOM!" They both spun around. Dumbledore was in the Portrait Hole flanked by McGonagall, who looked very white.

"Dumbledore!" croaked Voldemort.

"You should leave now, Tom," said the Headmaster calmly. "You don't have your own wand and you can't take on both myself and Harry. I think it best if you just leave." Voldemort froze and looked at the two of them. Harry saw realisation dawn on him. He glanced from Harry to Dumbledore to all the people watching. Voldemort lacked compassion and mercy, though not rationality. He threw the wand back to the girl he had taken it from and turned to go back up the stairs. Harry pocketed his.

"Where are you going, Tom?" asked Dumbledore.

"Upstairs, to get my wand," replied Voldemort as he disappeared up the stairs.

"You see how quickly it has come?" Dumbledore asked Harry. "You have been gone from my office for five minutes and already he has made a pass. I told you it was not going to be easy."

Suddenly screams erupted behind them, Harry turned to see Voldemort at the bottom of the stairs holding his wand. The anger was back in his eyes. It appeared that he did, in fact, lack rationality. Harry thrust his hand into his pocket and grabbed his wand. When he turned back to face Riddle he was gone. There was something flying towards him - it wasn't a curse or any type of spell, not was it moving fast enough to be a threat to him. Using his Seeker skills, he effortlessly caught it in his fake hand. Harry looked down at it, recognising it instantly: a wand.

It was made of willow, and the handle had been patterned. The owner must have paid to have a professional engraver decorate it. Inlaid with gold was a vine like pattern that snaked around the handle sprouting leaves every so often. There were two letters engraved on one side of it -

L.E.

L.E.? Could that mean Lily Evans? Was this his mother's wand? Harry turned it over in his hands, feeling the long smooth timber slide over his fingers. It was softer than his own, though longer. Harry was no Ollivander, but he knew this was a powerful wand.

"Everyone will please return to their dormitories," instructed Dumbledore, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. "Harry, I am sorry to keep you awake, but would you please follow me. I am afraid we have more to discuss."

While the rest of Gryffindor house stampeded up the stairs to their bedrooms, Harry followed the Headmaster out of the Portrait Hole and out into the corridors of Hogwarts.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore. "I can take it from here; you should return to bed." McGonagall nodded and without a word turned down another corridor, while Harry and Dumbledore continued onward to his office. Harry, not for the first time in his life, was looking at Dumbledore with an emotion other than respect. Once again he had kept a vital fact from him. Why had he not told him that he was the Heir of Gryffindor? He had promised Harry that he would be kept in the loop this year but he had still kept him in the dark.

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?" shouted a voice. Harry and Dumbledore turned to see two fifth year Prefects out on patrol. Both had their wands out and pointed at the pair of them.

"I surrender," smiled Dumbledore. "Nice to see you are doing your duty so efficiently," he beamed.

"Sorry, sir," said one of the Prefects. "We thought you were..."

"Sneaking off to the kitchens?" finished the Headmaster. "We are not, in fact, though I should confess that when I was a student here I would often..."

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted Harry. "We should push on."

"Right you are," said Dumbledore. He wished the two Prefects good night and continued on towards his office. Harry silently followed the leader of the Order up the stairs. Once inside the office, he took a chair that Dumbledore gestured to.

"You see, Harry?" began the Headmaster. "Five minutes and already you have been tempted. You may have turned him down but he has given you something that you have accepted. Everything he gives you draws you closer to him."

"Why didn't you tell me that I was the Heir of Gryffindor?" said Harry ignoring the question. "We discussed it less than five minutes ago, about him being Slytherin's heir and the arrogance that consumed him, and you didn't tell me. You said we were so much alike, you might of well have told me that as well!" He was failing to keep his anger in check. He had nearly jumped out of the chair but had managed to control that at least.

"I didn't know," sighed Dumbledore. "I doubt you still trust me after what I have kept from you, Harry, but I give you my word; I never knew. Your parents never knew or at least never told me and I have never researched it."

"Did you know Cedric was the Heir of Hufflepuff?" asked Harry, relaxing slightly.

"They lived so long ago and there have been so many remarriages and affairs among the offspring of the Heirs, it makes their bloodlines almost impossible to trace." Harry accepted this; but he felt guilty once more. Not so much because he had doubted Dumbledore, but because he had accepted something from someone he knew was trying to trick him. Moody would skin him alive when he got his hands on him. "Harry." Dumbledore brought him back from his trail of thought. "Voldemort, as we have seen, is very patient; he waited thirteen years to get you. He will tempt you very slowly, offering small tokens here and there. You have accepted one; there is no way I can undo the past. He has also brought to light your ancient ancestry. This has had two effects. One, you now need to take proper Apparation lessons, to prevent you from splinching yourself."

"Not with Snape!" said Harry defiantly.

"Professor Snape, and secondly, I must ask you for your wand."

"You're expelling me?" gasped Harry, his heart sinking into his knees. His legs went numb and he nearly toppled off the chair.

"No, of course not; you misunderstand me. I am confiscating your wand."

"In case I send someone through a wall?"

"No, I believe you will make the right choices when they appear. I hope it might develop your power more quickly if I remove this aid. You will have your power reduced; you will hopefully discover a focal point that enables you to perform more powerful magic without a wand. I just pray that you don't use Voldemort, Bellatrix or Mr. Malfoy as a focus, for the reasons I have already explained. You cannot defeat evil by doing evil." Harry sighed. He knew the Headmaster was right but that didn't mean he wanted to let go of his wand. This simple stick had saved his life more times than he could count. He gingerly removed his wand from his pocket and placed it on the Headmaster's desk. He was sad to see it go; they had been through tough times together and it was the only thing that had saved him at the graveyard.

"What about my mother's?" he asked.

"Your mother's what?" asked Dumbledore. Harry took out her wand and handed it to the Headmaster.

"He threw this to me; L.E. - I assume it means Lily Evans," said Harry.

"Yes, I recognise it. She was one for the arts, you mother. But how did Tom get it? He couldn't have taken it on the night; he had no body. It wasn't among your mother's belongings; they were delivered to your aunt."

"Aunt Petunia has my mother's stuff?" asked Harry in shock.

"She did. It was thrown out shortly after it was delivered. I salvaged it and it was in your bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Did you not see it? A brown cardboard box marked LE. It was in the bottom of your wardrobe."

"No, I missed it."

"Forgive me, Harry; I should have checked that you received it. I will have it sent to your dormitory tomorrow. This does not solve the puzzle of how Voldemort got your mother's wand. The first people there were Sirius and Hagrid; Crouch's Aurors fenced off the area within half an hour, but anyone could have taken it between then. I must look into this Harry. Who knows what else of your parent's belongings may have fallen into the wrong hands? I wonder..." Dumbledore paused for a second then shook his head. "It is unimportant. Harry, I know it is late and you have had a longer day than most. How is your head?"

"My eye still aches and my neck hurts, but I'll live. To be honest, I'm more worried about Katie. She's in shock after Malfoy sexually assaulted her." Dumbledore's twinkle vanished.

"That girl has been through enough grief in her life without this. When her father went after Barty Crouch Junior, he was part of the Order. It was not one of my missions; it was a lead he was following as an Auror. After he was fired, he still worked for the Order. All he cared about was his family; that was all that mattered to him. When they joined the Order I made it clear that it was very dangerous and that he was putting his life and his family's life in danger. Do you know what he said to me, Harry? He said, "The good guys never hide." He would rather see them dead than in a world where Voldemort ruled. I admired him for that. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I would keep Kathryn and Amy safe. Now I have failed in that, too."

"Did you know that my aunt was sent to Azkaban?"

"I didn't at the time, but she told me confidentially at Grimmauld Place."

"Who made that decision?"

"I couldn't say. She was not the only one who was put in the ministry cells for their safety, but I have never heard of anyone going to Azkaban. Now get some sleep, Harry; you, of all people, deserve it. I have to work on new wards that will keep Voldemort out of the castle."

"Can I have a note? It's just that Mr. Filch caught me on the way back last time. I don't think he would believe the same excuse twice in one night."

"Better yet, I'll accompany you," said the Headmaster. The two of them left the office and descended the stairs; at the end of the corridor they turned left and then Dumbledore took the second passage on the right. The trouble was that that passage was heading in completely the wrong direction.

"Where are we going, sir?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor Tower," replied the Headmaster. "Is there a problem?"

"It's this way," said Harry pointing. "Straight on."

"Oh, yes, forgive me. My mistake. This castle is so big that I sometimes forget where to go."

"I thought you knew everything about this castle."

"I wouldn't be so arrogant so to presume I did. Besides, I have only been to Gryffindor Tower on three occasions. Tonight, in your first year to give you the Invisibility Cloak, which incidentally took me half the night looking for it; in the end I had to ask a house elf for directions and, lastly, when Sirius knifed the Fat Lady. That time and tonight Minerva lead the way."

"So if you weren't a Gryffindor," deduced Harry. "Which house were you in?"

"Is it so hard to tell?" smiled the Headmaster. He seemed to think the question was rather amusing. Harry didn't get the joke.

"Ravenclaw, the brains give it away."

"Wrong, Harry. Try again."

"Hufflepuff. The loyalty, sense of fun and the occasional spell of dottiness."

"Dottiness?" the headmaster raised an eyebrow at that.

"Well, sometimes you do say some funny things. I seem to remember you saying one year, 'I would like to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit, blubber, tweak and...something else'. That is not what I would expect someone of your stature to say."

"Point taken, but you are once again wrong, Harry." They arrived at the Fat Lady and Harry gave her the password.

"You were a Slytherin?" gasped Harry.

"We are not all what we seem," sighed the headmaster. "Be careful with stereotypes, Harry. Never judge a book by its cover. Good night, Harry." Harry stood and watched him depart before disappearing through the portrait hole.

~~~~ + ~~~~

Light was shining through the window to the boy's dormitory when Harry awoke next morning. He had had a bad night's sleep. He had been turning in his bed until half past two and had woken up three times since then. He checked his watch. It read 08:07 02/09. 'Excellent,' thought Harry. 'Another day of rest before NEWTs begin. Come to think of it, why did they need a free day?' They usually only had these if the first of September fell on the Friday or Saturday, in which case the lessons started on the Monday. Having Wednesday off was unheard of. Ron was still snoring, as were the other occupants of the room. Harry noticed a cardboard box next to his bed with the letters L and E on the side. Dumbledore had been as good as his word and had delivered it. Harry slipped on some clothes and crept out of the room; he would look through the box later, but for now, he had a more important visit to make. He walked quickly up to the Hospital Wing to check on Katie. However he found the doors locked and a sign on the door, which read,

Visiting Hours

Week Days: Lunchtime and End of Lesson 5 until 20:00

Weekends: 10:00 until 20:00

Not wanting to disturb Katie if she was asleep, Harry left. He wandered around lost in thought. He strolled through the courtyards and then back to the entrance hall. He was not going anywhere in particular; he just wanted to be alone. He left the entrance hall and went outside. From there he crossed the front lawn. He thought about what Dumbledore had said about doing what is right, about staying clear of anger and hatred and...

"Morning, Potter," said a voice. It was Blaise Zabini. She was a Slytherin in his year. On reflection, Harry realised that he had never spoken to her properly. The occasional 'excuse me' or 'have you seen so and so' was to be expected, but he had never spoken to her.

"Morning," replied Harry.

"Why are you up so early on a day off? I didn't expect to see anyone before about midday." She smiled.

"I was just out, getting a breath of fresh air, you know, blow the old cobwebs out," replied Harry. Blaise was about his height. She was pale with jet-black hair down to her shoulders, though, in this case it was tied back into a short ponytail. Her eyes were grey and narrow; she lowered her sunglasses enough for him to see them before replacing them on her nose. He didn't really want to talk to her; after all, she was a Slytherin. But then, so had Dumbledore been, and look how he had turned out. "What about you?" he asked. "Why are you up?"

"No peace for the wicked," she grinned.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just couldn't sleep. I just go running everyday. I was about to go up to the top of that hill when you showed up."

"That's got to be three miles."

"Two and a half, and about half a mile up," she replied.

"Well I'll leave you to it. Give me a broom any day; running is not my thing."

"You should do something. No exercise and you could end up like Goyle, and that is not a good look, take it from a woman. By the way, you look better without the glasses; a haircut wouldn't go amiss though."

"I'll bear that in mind, and I'll have you know that I do exercise."

"From the bed to the chair and back again?"

"The occasional trip to a lesson as well."

"Pathetic. In your position I would practise running at every opportunity."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"With Voldemort after you, running would be a useful skill. Unless you plan to fight him head on next time he appears?"

"I thought you were going for a run."

"I was, but baiting you is more fun." She grinned.

"Aren't I the lucky one?" said Harry. Blaise walked over to him, and gave him an appraising look.

"Show us then."

"Show you what?"

"This muscle that is so big that you don't need to do any exercise at all." She reached out for his arm and squeezed, right on the bruise left by the falling trunk in the baggage car. Harry recoiled in pain. He rolled up the sleeve to look at the ugly purple bruise, which almost covered his forearm.

"Souvenir of the train?"

"Yes."

"Sorry," said Blaise. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phial full of clear liquid. She pulled out the bung and drank the contents of the phial. She then popped the bun back in place and pocketed it.

"What was that?"

"It was a ...glucose supplement, it helps when I'm running."

"So you are going to run?"

"You've managed to bore me."

"My pleasure," grinned Harry. "And another thing, why are you wearing all those layers, and long sleeves? It is August you know, not December. And the sunglasses, the sun isn't even up fully up yet."

"I've got a cold, Potter, is that a crime? Anyway, you are wearing gloves as well."

"I have my reasons," said Harry defensively.

"Me too," said Blaise. "Bye, Potter," she called as she jogged away up the slope. Harry watched her go. She was fairly attractive and not that unpleasant as a person, from what he could tell from the last minute of conversation. Without the influence of Malfoy, were the other Slytherins salvageable? Crabbe was detained, though he would probably escape in time. Not by himself, obviously. He couldn't escape from a play-barn without help. Goyle was moping around by himself these days. Apparently, Tweedle-Dum wouldn't live without Tweedle-Dee. Goyle's father was on the train - so Goyle was the son of a known Death Eater, but was his father's influence that strong? Without Malfoy to order him around, maybe Goyle could be convinced of the right path to take. Harry was unsure about Blaise. He was not aware of whether her parents were Death Eaters or not. From their conversation moments ago she didn't seem too hostile. Was that a trick? Parkinson had expressed her views last night for all to see. Harry had never spoken to Bulstrode, MacDougal or Gleeson so he didn't know whether they were Death Eaters in the making or not.

Harry was scared out of his wits when Arwen landed on his shoulder. He hadn't seen her coming and he nearly jumped out of his skin when her talons landed on his shoulder. She brought him out of his trail of thoughts. He raised a hand to stroke her glowing blue plumage and then turned and walked back towards the castle. Down the end of the corridor he saw Madam Pomfrey on her way up to the hospital wing.

"Morning, Potter," she yawned as she passed.

"Any change?" asked Harry hopefully.

"No, come up and see if you want."

"What about Visiting Hours?"

"That sign has been there for years; everyone ignores it, so why should you be any different? Look, Potter...Harry, I know she means a lot to you but this is something that you can't help her with. She has to get over it herself."

"There is nothing I can do?"

"She will snap out of it, but rebuilding confidence to socialise is another matter. Her reaction was more severe than I would have imagined given the quite restrained nature of the incident..." She trailed off when Harry gave her a glare that would have made Bellatrix Lestrange think twice before opening her mouth again. "Not that the rape wasn't awful, it was. I am just saying that going into shock like this is not something that happens unless the emotional trauma was extremely severe. I think the head injury may be prolonging her coma. It may have also messed things up inside her head."

What is that supposed to mean?" asked Harry.

"She could be amnesic, she could have had dreams while comatose which she believes to be real. These are all possibilities. Nothing in concrete, though; I may be overreacting. Whatever her mental state, some things are obvious. When she wakes up she will fear physical contact. Even touching her hand may cause her to panic. This is, of course, the worst-case scenario, but it could happen. Let her move on at her own pace. This is a very hard time for anyone after such an event."

"I can imagine."

"No, you can't. That is the point. It is the worst thing anyone can go through; she will feel very isolated and shy away from human contact because she will think that everyone is out to get her again. She will find it very hard to be around people. She will startle very easily."

"So, am I supposed to ignore her?"

"Of course not; talk to her, just be careful around touching her and definitely no contact with breasts, backside or genitalia, as that could create an irreversible breakdown in trust between her and everyone around her."

"OK."

"Good, go in if you wish."

Harry pushed the doors open and after pausing for a deep breath took a step in. The place smelt of antiseptic and other such potions. The clinic feel made Harry nervous. He could see Cho sleeping in one bed, another had curtains drawn around it: that must be Katie's. Harry suddenly had a horrible image of Katie on life support with tubes coming out of every vein. A shiver ran down his spine; if there was one thing he was truly terrified of, it was needles. That was the beauty of magical medicine; everything was potions and spells. There are no scalpels or cutting people open; there were no injections or invasive surgery. Everything was quick, simple and relatively pain free.

He drew back the curtains. Katie was there, lying on her side. Her eyes were closed but the most promising sign of change was that her thumb was no longer in her mouth. She appeared to have partially unfrozen. Every time Harry had moved her on the train, her hand would automatically creep back towards her mouth. At present, her left hand rested on the pillow the other on top of the bedclothes over her hip. Harry instinctively leaned across to kiss her forehead, but remembering what Madam Pomfrey had said, decided against it.

"Can she hear me?"

"I expect so. There is little physically wrong with her except for a bit of bruising, there is no fracturing or any other damage to the skull. She is in good health physically; as I said, this is a mental problem. Well, I have work to do, I'll leave you to it; just remember what I said." She left, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Katie," he whispered. "It's Harry. I hope that you can hear me. I just wish I could think of something intelligent to say...there is something I do need to tell you though... you see..." The doors swung open at that moment and Harry stopped talking, instinctively his hand flew to his pocket but found it empty. He remembered that Dumbledore had confiscated his wand the night before. He parted the curtains just a tad to see who it was; Marietta Edgecombe. She tip toed over to Cho's bed and sat on the end, stroking her friend's forehead. Harry relaxed a little. Marietta had betrayed the DA last year. He felt a weak stirring of anger in the pit of his stomach but quickly quashed it. She had, after all, risked her life yesterday. Harry decided to be brave and opened the curtains. He walked over to the bed; Marietta didn't detect his approach.

"How is she?" asked Harry, causing Marietta to fall off the bed in fright. "This is a hospital, you are supposed to be quiet," he added with a grin.

"Oh, Potter, I didn't see you there. She's, well, she's going to be fine. I spoke to the Matron last night and she will be up and about today. She's just sleeping at the moment."

"Good," said Harry.

"I thought you two were at each other's throats."

"No, I was just hot-headed at the time. I don't hate her or anything and I certainly don't want her to die."

"And why are you here?" Harry pointed over his shoulder to Katie's bed.

"Ah yes, I read about that little union."

"So did everyone else in the bloody country. Whatever happened to invasion of privacy?"

"The price of fame."

"I don't want fame or any of this!" snapped Harry.

"You're right; you are hot-headed."

"Sorry," said Harry trying to dispose of any anger still in him.

"I'll bet," said Marietta still looking unconvinced. Harry turned and went back over to Katie's bed. He took one last look and closed the curtains, then made his way over to the door.

"Potter." Harry stopped a few feet from the door and turned around.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, about Umbridge and everything. It was a stupid thing to do and I regret doing it and I apologise."

Harry stood still for a second, giving her an appraising stare. He knew he was intimidating her and although it wasn't a nice thing to do, it served a purpose. Harry slowly moved closer to her. He knew what he was going to say, having thought of it when she entered the room.

"Marietta, I'm going to be honest with you," said Harry. "It was a stupid thing to do and if you had said this to me last year or even two days ago I would have blown up in your face. But something happened yesterday. We were attacked and when the stakes were raised, when it really mattered, you fought. Your heart is clearly in the right place, so I'm willing to forget last year, on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You come to this Duelling Club, and keep up the good fight."

"When is it?"

"Thursdays at seven."

"Tomorrow?"

"Afraid not, next week." Marietta nodded and turned back to Cho. Harry took this as being his cue to leave. Harry left and headed down to breakfast. Ron, Dean, Hermione, Seamus and Neville were up at last and already in the great Hall. Harry took a seat next to them and helped himself to some Sultana Bran.

"Harry!" said Ron quickly. "What happened last night? You-Know-Who comes bouncing down the stairs, you Apparate into the room which can't be Apparated into and then Dumbledore carts you off."

"You seem to know what happened last night already," said Harry evasively

"Come on, Harry," begged Ron, "you can tell us."

"I told you on the train," said Harry. "He was coming to me. He did as he said he would."

"What did he want?" asked Neville.

"To talk," said Harry.

"About what?" asked Hermione.

"He wanted to recruit me," said Harry honestly. They would find out eventually, so he might as well save them the hassle.

"And what did you say?" asked Ron.

"What do you think I said?" asked Harry a little more hotly than he had intended. "Do you really think I'd even consider joining him after he killed my parents, Cedric, my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin and Hedwig? Not to mention his attack on the train yesterday?"

"I'll take that as a no," said Hermione. "What else did he say?"

"Not a lot," said Harry.

"Yeah, right," said Ron just as sceptically as Hermione. "Are you trying to be uncooperative?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Where did you learn to Apparate?" asked Hermione. Harry sighed and chose not to answer. He suddenly became very interested in the teapot.

"You learned it from him," said Hermione suddenly. "Didn't you?"

Again, Harry didn't respond. He wanted to change the subject but he knew they were having none of it.

"That means yes," said Hermione.

"Look," said Harry. "Yes, he did teach me. No, I did not join him. He told me that I am the Heir of Gryffindor. That is all he said. Dumbledore told me that he didn't know and that I have to control my anger if I have any hope of defeating him. Can we please talk about something else?"

"Why didn't you just walk away and fetch Dumbledore?" asked Hermione, ignoring the request.

"By the time I returned he could have hurt any one of you," replied Harry.

"How did he get in?" asked Ron.

"The Heirs of the Founders can Apparate in any time they want," said Harry.

"So our bedroom isn't safe?" asked Ron.

"Dumbledore is working on new wards to keep him out," said Harry. "We should be safe. Can we please change the subject? I don't want to talk about it!" Harry was getting impatient.

"You are going to have to face up," said Hermione. "Look around; everyone knows by now. This won't be the first time you will be questioned on this." Harry looked around. Half of the people in hall were staring at him. The expressions varied from awe to fear. It reminded him of his second year when everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. Oddly enough, he had been one of the Heirs all along! This was going to be a long week for him.

"Any thoughts on what to do for the rest of the day?" asked Seamus, mercifully changing the topic.

"I, personally, am going to sleep all day," said Neville. "This was the first lie-in I've had all summer."

"Then why are you up now then?" asked Dean.

"Breakfast - can't sleep on an empty stomach," grinned Neville. "Hey, do you reckon they'll let us down to Hogsmeade? I look seventeen, don't I? I reckon I could get served, I've always wanted to try Firewhiskey."

"I don't think McGonagall would approve if you came back four sheets to the wind," replied Seamus. "Oh Merlin!" he gasped.

"What?" asked Harry, looking around for trouble in the direction of his stare.

"She just looked at me," gasped Seamus.

"Who?"

"Lavender. Did you see that? She just looked at me."

"It's the Irish accent, girls love it," said Ron. "Go over there and talk to her."

"And say what? Hi, I'm Seamus. We have known each other for five years, Ron."

"Start with the traditional, how are you, have a nice summer and then go with the flow," suggested Harry.

"What makes you an expert?" asked Seamus, still not taking his eyes off of Lavender.

"He pulled Bell, didn't he, lucky git," said Dean.

"Speaking of girls, Dean," said Ron accusingly. "Why haven't you spoken to Ginny yet?"

"Well, we...sort of...well...broke up...if you know what I mean," stuttered Dean.

"You two aren't dating anymore?" asked Ron.

"No."

"Excellent," beamed Ron as he began to butter a slice of toast.

"She's not a little girl anymore, Ron," said Hermione.

"What? Of course she is, she's only..."

"Fifteen. She is old enough to fend for herself Ron; you have to trust her judgment. She doesn't need you breathing down her neck all the time."

"Is everyone against me, here?" asked Ron.

"Just about; shall we take a vote?" asked Seamus with a grin.

"Hey, guys," said Lavender, joining them along with Parvati and Padma, at which point Seamus went very red. "Morning, Seamus." She got an embarrassed squeak in response. "You do remember that we have that meeting for the last two years with McG in a few minutes?"

"We have half an hour," said Hermione, a little pompously.

"Yes, but there are only so many chairs, and you know how long she goes on for, I don't fancy standing for that amount of time. Unless, of course, you can conjure chairs out of thin air?"

"Well, it is in the textbook for this y..." began Hermione before being nudged in the ribs by Ron.

"We'd love to join you," said Seamus quickly getting to his feet. Harry felt it right to copy. He followed the rest of the party up to McGonagall's teaching room. Lavender had been right; they quickly swiped the last few chairs. The room was nearly full and they still had twenty-five minutes before it even started.

After fifteen minutes of trivial chatter, McGonagall appeared in the doorway.

"A little early, but never mind," she began. "Is everyone here? Good, then I'll begin. Firstly, as seventh years will already know, sixth and seventh years are permitted to go off-site during free periods and during the evening. There have been some changes to this. You are still allowed out. However, you must sign out and in again. You must leave your destination and the time you expect to be back. Before you leave, you will sign out in the entrance hall and collect an Emergency Portkey that will return you to the entrance hall should anything happen. Curfew applies; everyone is to be back on site by nine every evening, no exceptions. Please note that you must be back within the time you say you will. We are flexible to about fifteen minutes; after that, without contact we will dispatch Magical Law Enforcement officers to look for you.

Secondly, there is a new opportunity for you. In light of recent events and the ethos of the Death Eaters, it has been decided that a more intimate relationships with Muggles is called for. It is necessary to get to know them, firstly, because you will realise that they are just as human as we are, and secondly, there are no walks of life down which you will not end up meeting with Muggles. Wizarding families, especially, may have little experience socialising and working with Muggles. To rectify this and to prepare you for later life, which is after all what this school is about, we have decided to introduce a new tradition. Muggle schools call it 'Work Experience'. Each and every one of you will, during your final year, spend one week in a Muggle work place. In the course of which you will learn valuable skills. Your communication skills will benefit from this, your understanding of their world will improve, and your ability to blend in will also gain from it. This last point is becoming ever more important and ever more rare. Many witches and wizards stick out like sore thumbs when they go out; it is a miracle they are not noticed. The Statute of Secrecy is meant to keep our world hidden. When you leave, you may perform magic outside of school, but you will still have to keep our world a secret, and this will arm you in that manner.

"Seventh years will be called individually over the next few days to discuss your placement. The week will be the second week of January, when the Christmas rush has died down. I apologise for the short notice, but it cannot be helped. When you are called, we will discuss your future career and where to place you that will benefit your career, in a Muggle context. For example, potential healers can go to Muggle hospitals and witness Muggle medicine. Professor Black has been a Healer for 8 years and for her training she had to spend three months in a Muggle hospital. If you aspire to work for Gringott's, then we can arrange for you to work in a bank for a week. There will be some of you who after graduation wish to live more or less as a Muggle. It is a path many choose and if that is the case, we can set you up for the week with a company you may wish to work for. It is possible that if you impress them, they may offer you a job for after you leave this school. We can offer you a large variety of options. This week is mandatory even for those with Muggle parents.

Now listen carefully; here is how it works. Seventh years, in the next fortnight, I will call all of you in for an interview to determine where best to place you. Additional interviews can be requested if you change your mind. The final date for decisions is the tenth of October. In the last week of November you will pay a visit to your work place to have a brief look and to meet the manager or director, and then the week itself will commence on Monday the seventeenth of January. You will be taken to the work place at between eight and nine AM depending on when they ask for you. Initially, you will go by Portkey, but after that, those with Apparating licences will be allowed to return by themselves to Hogsmeade. Portkeys are available for those who do not or cannot Apparate. During the week, a member of staff will visit you. As a precaution, you will be allowed to take your wands but use them only in an emergency.

The object of the exercise is to blend in, to live as a Muggle for a week. You can, of course, use it in dire circumstances but remember the Statue of Secrecy. Sixth years, you will have longer to decide where you wish to go. Your deadline for a final decision on where to go will be the end of the year and your week will be during October next year which will be its permanent spot. You will have to organise interviews yourself but I ask that you wait for the majority of the seventh year to go first. Before I go on, are there any questions?" Several hands were raised. Harry's mind was already far away. He wanted to be an Auror. What would he want to do for this week. Police perhaps? Maybe Army? He could imagine himself dressed as a copper marching down the street, fastening handcuffs to the wrists of some petty criminal.

"Miss Perks?" said McGonagall bringing Harry back down to earth.

"If we know someone who we would like to work for can we arrange it ourselves?" asked the seventh year.

"You mean can you set up your placement yourself? Yes you can, but you have to check with us before doing it. We can do it for you if you wish but you are entitled to do it yourself. However you cannot work, A, with someone who is a witch or wizard who you know, B, your own family or C, people who know you are a witch or wizard. Miss Zabini."

"Can we go abroad?"

Harry looked up at McGonagall for this. He had never been abroad; he had always wanted to but the Dursleys had never paid for him to accompany them.

"We would prefer you to keep within the country. If you do wish to go outside, you must do the following. Set it up yourself; again, we can help but you need to contact them first. Secondly, you must have all the proper papers, Muggle Passports, Visas and E111s, which cover any accidents or medical treatment you might need. Thirdly, you must speak the language if it is different. Language spells are not to be used. Fourthly, you must have a way of getting there and a place to stay, on the grounds that you will not be coming back to Hogwarts every evening. Fifthly a mobile phone or Floo connection to let us know how you are and lastly, you will need a Student Travel Permit from the local Ministry of Magic; we need to sign for those. You can go abroad, but there is a lot of red tape attached to it. Any other questions? Yes, Mr. Miller."

"What happens if we are discovered?"

"You mean if you disobey a direct order and use magic and are seen?" said McGonagall icily. "Then call us immediately, or the local Ministry if you go abroad. Obliviators will deal with any witnesses. Remember, you should not use Magic unless it is a life or death situation. Should any other wizard or witch identify you, tell them that you are a student on Work Experience and ask them to leave you alone. Any further problems, contact us that evening. Anything else? OK, onto the third topic.

Seventh years will already know this, but sixth years will not. This may come to a shock to some of you but you have only two years left. This may seem like ages, but you will be so busy that it will fly by. Before you know it, it will be time for your NEWTs. But what are you planning to do after NEWTs? Career interviews were done last year. Some were productive; others were...less so. This year you will be given another interview; this time you will take the first step, whether it is initial applications for Auror training or a Muggle UCAS - that is University and College Admissions System. Life will not end come the July after your NEWTs; we are giving you the opportunity to prepare for the big wide world. For some paths we can arrange visits, and some departments have Open Days. Last year, as seventh years will know, we ran several visits to St. Mungo's, the Ministry and the Auror Training camp in the Brecon Beacons. You will be advised of your appointment nearer the time; they should start in a few weeks.

"The fourth thing. Most of you will turn seventeen this year; seventh years already will have. I can see you are all extremely eager to learn Apparation. The school does not run Apparation lessons, as we are not qualified to do so. Those wishing to learn will apply for a Provisional licence from the Ministry of Magic. With this you may then book lessons from a qualified teacher from the department of Magical Transportation. These can be during your free periods, after classes or at weekends. You may not miss timetabled lessons for these. You may only miss lessons for your test, and you are to let the relevant teacher know when your test is. Also, you must let us know when your lessons are so that we know when you are to be off site. The same goes for anyone wishing to learn to drive a Muggle car. Just before you go, a quick reminder to seventh year Transfiguration students, double period Friday afternoon, you will need your cauldrons and Potion kits as a simple potion will be made in class, so don't forget. Anyone with a question, come and see me; the rest of you, enjoy your day off, but use it wisely." They all slowly rose to their feet. Harry had a lot of information to take in; the others did as well, so as a result conversation on the way to the Great hall was somewhat sparse.

"Where are you going to go?" asked Ron.

"Ireland," said Seamus immediately. "I'll stay with my Gran and work in the Guinness factory. That'll be amazing."

"And what happens when Snape turns up to see how you're doing and you are so drunk that you are there dancing naked on the table singing a rendition of Singing in the Rain with a feather duster for an umbrella?" asked Hermione.

"I was thinking more of 'Greased Lightning' but 'Singing in the Rain' is another possibility," laughed Seamus.

"I wonder what Lavender would think if she saw that?" asked Ron with a thoughtful sigh.

"Violently ill would be a safe bet," said Dean. He then had to duck in order to avoid a less than playful slap from Seamus.

"Seamus!" called a voice.

"God, it's her!" gasped Seamus, slowly turning around. Lavender came trotting up to them. "I was wondering whether..." She stopped and glared at each of them in turn. Harry got the hint.

"Seeya, Seamus," said Harry. "We'll be in the courtyard, dunking Ron down the old well."

"Love to see you try," replied Ron.

"You boys can be as childish as you want, I am going up to the library," said Hermione. Before leaving, she stopped after a few paces. "Coming Ron?" she added. Ron paused for a second, then nodded; he followed Hermione towards the school.

"If they are going to the Library, my name is Severus Snape," muttered Harry to Dean and Neville when they were out of audible range.

"We'll know soon enough," said Neville. "If Ron comes back looking exasperated, then Hermione really does want to study, but if she is a little more flexible then he'll be gone for...longer"

"So, what are we going to do?" asked Dean taking a seat on the side of the fountain.

"In a week we will be praying for a day with no lessons and now that we have one, I can't think of a single thing to do," laughed Harry. "Sod's Law."

"Murphy's Law don't you mean?" asked Dean.

"Only in Ireland. Speaking of which, how'd it go, Seamus," asked Harry.

"Sheasmetahgogsmediver," said Seamus in one breath.

"In English please," said Dean.

"She asked me... she wants me to go to Hogsmeade with her," stuttered Seamus, looking a combination of pleased and terrified.

"Well?" he asked the three of them.

"Well, what?" said Dean.

"What did you say?" asked Neville.

"What do you think I said, of course yes, well it came out more of a 'yeherse' because my tongue was down to my knees but I think she understood. Merlin, I have to get going. See you lads later; I've got to get ready." He strolled off towards Gryffindor Tower, whistling as he went.

"Tongue down to his knees?" muttered Dean. "That would be interesting to see. Still, good luck to you mate. Ron's luck seems to have changed."

"It seems so," muttered Harry.

"It seems so?" echoed Dean. "Why have you suddenly started talking so posh? You sound like the Queen. You're using words which I can't even spell."

"I had a lot of time to think over the holidays," answered Harry. "I sort of reflected on everything that has happened and what we all still have to face. I also read the Telegraph most days over the holidays. I raided the recycling bin at home this summer, while I was there at least, and stole the papers. Initially there were two, the Sun and the Daily Telegraph; the Sun was there because my cousin wanted to rip page three out. He covered his walls with topless woman then threw the paper out. Come to think of it, I don't think he can even read. I left the Sun; it is bloody awful. The Telegraph - now there is a civilised newspaper; it seems to have extended my vocabulary. I also have a little more grasp of the Muggle world, which will be useful in Muggle Studies if I ever pay attention. I also spend a lot of time reading to take my mind off...things. I read Lord of the Rings as well as Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and Pride and Prejudice. They also extended my vocabulary and I guess I picked up some phrases and a way of talking from them as well."

"Right," said Dean with a look of amusement. "So Harry, you and Katie Bell. What did the two of you...hang on this doesn't look good." Harry followed his gaze across the courtyard. Madam Pomfrey was rushing across the lawn towards them.

"Potter," she panted when she arrived. "She's awake!"