Harry Potter and the Emerald Sceptre

~~~~ Chapter 14 ~~~~

Just Deserts

"No," said Harry, removing the cloak. "I won't!"

"Potter!" stuttered Malfoy, as his eyes grew wide with what Harry hoped was fear.

"Harry!" gasped Ginny, her expression turning to one of anger.

"Am I interrupting something?" asked Harry innocently, raising the sword. There was a second's pause. Ginny and Malfoy were too shocked to move. Harry paused, letting his presence sink in. He felt a glimmer of pleasure at the fear in Malfoy's eyes as he realised the situation he was in. He saw the look of anger that filled Ginny's eyes. She'd get her comeuppance as soon as he'd dealt with Malfoy.

"Imagine seeing you here," hissed Harry, spinning the sword. His anger was ever more prevalent in his voice. The tone was unmistakable. Harry took a step closer to the pair, twirling the sword about his wrist menacingly. Malfoy shrank back against the trunk of the tree.

"Potter, listen to me," stammered the Slytherin. "I know you want to get even."

"Even?" laughed Harry. He didn't know what he had done to Katie. He hadn't seen the nervous wreck she had become. Nearly three weeks later and she was still nervous about company. He had taken away her happiness; she would never truly get it back. That assault will stay with her until the day she dies. This little bastard had done that! "No, not even," said Harry. "I would have to use Cruciatus on your friends, drop a trunk on your head, beat Ginny, nearly rape her and then drop a lump of wood on her head. That would be about even."

"I didn't do all that!" protested Malfoy, but fell silent as Harry stopped twirling the sword and held it up, as if ready to strike. You know nothing! Harry wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make Malfoy pay for what he had done.

"You let them on board the train," hissed Harry, trying to keep his voice down. There were centaurs and acromantulae in the forest, after all. "Their injuries are on your head!"

"Harry! Put the sword down!" hissed Ginny furiously. She took a step forward and grabbed his wrist. Harry immediately threw her hand off.

"SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!" barked Harry. Ginny looked genuinely scared at Harry's outburst. Harry had just been about to lash out at her, but had managed to hold himself back. Ginny paled and then silently and a little shakily sat down on a thick tree root. It was so thick that it was the size of a bench. Harry turned back to Malfoy.

"Look, Potter," began Malfoy. "I'm sorry about Bell..."Harry lashed out, his left fist colliding with Draco's cheek. Ginny screamed and Malfoy was knocked down to his knees.

"Don't you ever say her name!" hissed Harry. Hitting Malfoy had made him feel a bit better. Malfoy pressed himself against the tree in terror. "Ginny, leave!" ordered Harry. He needed a little time alone with Malfoy.

"What?" Why does she have to be so defiant?

"You heard. Bugger off!"

"No," said Ginny defiantly.

"You stand accused of high treason, young lady," snapped Harry. He adopted a more threatening tone before continuing. "Take the cloak and wait for me in the common room. We need to have a little chat."

"But..."

"I won't hurt him. Just go!"

"Fine!" she turned, picked up the discarded invisibility cloak, and fled.

Harry waited until he was sure she was gone, and then turned back to face Malfoy. He took a step nearer, causing Malfoy's eyes to grow wider.

"You hate me, Malfoy," began Harry slowly, pointing the sword at him, though standing over a metre away from him. "The feeling is definitely mutual. If you want me, you come at me head on. Don't you ever, ever come at me through her! You dropped a trunk on my head; OK, I can deal with that. But, the second you laid a finger on her, you crossed the line." Harry raised a hand.

"You told her you wouldn't hurt me!" whined Malfoy.

"I lied!"

Harry punched Malfoy as hard as he could with his sapphire hand. Harry didn't feel a thing, but Draco's nose erupted with blood. The Slytherin grasped his broken nose as he fell back down to the ground. Harry kicked him in the gut, causing him to fall on his side in the mud. His robes were covered in all manner of dirt; moss and mud were mingled in with his spiky blond hair.

"You nearly raped her, you cunt!" spat Harry, screaming the worst insult he could think of, at the Slytherin. He had dreamed of this moment for over a month. He didn't want to just hurt him. He wanted to make him sorry; he wanted him to understand what he had done. He wanted him to beg Katie for her forgiveness. "Have you any idea what you did? You haven't had to watch her; to witness the nervous wreck she has become."

"I'm..." spluttered Malfoy.

"You're what?" Harry cut him off. He leaned over the Slytherin, so close that he could feel Malfoy's breath on his face. "Sorry? You've never been sorry in your life. You don't know the meaning of the word." Harry kicked him again in the gut. Harry was wearing soft trainers, so he doubted he had broken any ribs. Pity!

"You can't do this, Potter!" whined Malfoy.

"Why not?" asked Harry, kicking Malfoy in the arse to make it perfectly clear that he could.

"Think of my mother!"

"Haven't you heard; she's disowned you!" smirked Harry. Harry saw a look of what looked for a second like regret cross his face before the fearful, yet defiant eyes returned.

"What about Ginny?" stuttered Malfoy.

"None of your concern!" shot back Harry. She'd get an earful when he got back, but first things first.

Harry withdrew his wand and aimed it straight between Draco's eyes.

"What are you going to do?" gasped the Slytherin.

Harry looked into the fearful grey eyes that stared at him. He wanted to scare Malfoy, to hurt him, to make him feel the pain that Katie had. Then he decided on a course of action. One that would destroy his pride, his dignity, and give Harry both the chance to hurt him and to proof that after five years of petit arguments, he was in fact better.

"You're a Death Eater," replied Harry softly. "I am going to give you the chance to do your master's bidding. Stand up!"

Malfoy painfully climbed to his feet, he stood a few feet before Harry.

Hatred swelled in Harry, he wanted to hurt him. He felt the anger boil. One word would do it, 'Crucio'; it is so simple. All he had to do was say the word.

"Take out your wand!" ordered Harry. Malfoy's hand was visibly trembling as he reached into his pocket.

"Potter, please!" mumbled Malfoy, as he took out his wand. "Listen to me!"

"Silence!" hissed Harry. Harry took a few paced backwards, leaving a gap of ten feet between Malfoy and himself. He put the sword back in the scabbard and set it down. He took out his own wand, adopted a combat position and stood perfectly still, allowing the Slytherin to boil in fear.

"I won't fight you, Potter!" said Draco firmly. What? Since when does Malfoy just give in without a fight? This must be a trick!

"Well, I'm going to hex you so you'd better defend yourself!" smirked Harry.

"But..." Malfoy never got a chance to finish the sentence.

"MATASKIA!" shouted Harry. A blue beam of light erupted from Harry's wand. It was a Dark curse he had picked up from Fighting Fire with Fire, which Narcissa had set as a DADA textbook. The curse rocketed towards the Slytherin who managed to dive out of the way.

"Get up!"

Malfoy didn't move; he stayed on the ground, trying to not give Harry any motivation to attack. Frustrated by his non-compliance, Harry repeated the instruction.

"ASHIMENSUS!" cried Harry. A legal pain curse hit Malfoy's forearm. The Slytherin squealed in pain and clutched the arm close to his body. Harry regretted using the curse the second it hit. What had come over him? He had deliberately missed with the Mataskian curse, but something had made him use the pain curse. Something had just come over him. Whatever he felt about Malfoy, he didn't want to torture him, just to make him pay, to scare him. He wanted to humiliate Malfoy, to beat him, to make him feel genuinely sorry.

"Get up!" hissed Harry. In fear of another curse, the Slytherin picked up his wand and stood. "Bow!" ordered Harry.

Malfoy didn't move a muscle.

"Bow to death, Draco," smirked Harry. "It might even be painless...I would not know...I have never...." Harry suddenly realised what he was saying. He looked up at Draco.

Suddenly, it happened. Pain seared through his scar as Harry felt the snake leer up inside him. "KILL HIM!" hissed a high-pitched voice in his head. "END HIS LIFE! HE FUCKED HER, NOW KILL HIM!" The power of the snake was too much. Harry tried to fight but the pain in his scar was too intense.

Malfoy watched in astonishment as Harry spontaneously went from overpowering to what appeared to be agony. Harry fell to one knee, clutching his scar in agony.

"KILL HIM!"

Harry felt his wand arm move, powerless to stop it. Voldemort had taken control of Harry's arm. Harry tried to block him with Occlumency, but it was no use; he was too strong.

"AVADA!" he screamed "NO!" His other hand managed to pull the wand down. Harry fell forwards, pinning both his arms and his wand underneath him. He looked up at the perplexed Slytherin. "Run!" he hissed. "RUN!"

The Slytherin looked puzzled for a moment before taking off in a flash. He spun on his heal and tore away through the Forbidden Forest.

"YOU DISAPPONT ME, HARRY. BUT HAVE NO FEAR, YOUR TIME WILL COME." The pain was suddenly gone and Harry rolled over in the mud. His head was pounding, but not stinging.

"Christ!" muttered Harry as he struggled to get back to his feet. It had all been a trick. He had sent Malfoy here to be killed, to drive Harry to murder. Was Malfoy under the Imperius curse? Was Ginny? Not only that, but he had shown Voldemort that he was willing to use the Dark Arts. This would only fuel his desire to recruit Harry. What have I done? thought Harry. He felt sick inside; he had done something terrible. He felt guilt begin to bubble inside him. Dumbledore would be so disappointed in him. He had failed to stand up to Voldemort; he had played right into his hands. What would Katie think? With that in mind, Harry vomited on the ground. He recovered quite quickly. He now had to face Ginny. I won't lose my temper with her, Harry promised himself. I will stay calm! He picked up his sword and wand, and then dusted himself off before Apparating back to the common room. It would have taken ten minutes to run, assuming Filch didn't catch him. Apparating took less than a second. Being the Heir of Gryffindor has its advantages.

He reappeared with a crack. Ginny, who had been sitting by the fire, jumped; spilling the drink of water she had been drinking all down her front. Harry detached the sword and rested it against the arm of the chair. He poured himself a small drink of water to remove the acidic taste of vomit from his mouth. Feeling a little refreshed, he moved slowly over to the fireplace and stood still glaring at Ginny. He saw her cower back slightly in the chair, though her expression remained defiant. He felt so betrayed. How could she? But then again, why hadn't he seen it? What had caused her to do this? He had fought a basilisk for her, and this is how she had repaid him.

"You're mad," sighed Ginny, speaking after nearly a minute of silent glaring.

"Mad? I'm bloody furious, Virginia!" hissed Harry kicking the wall next to the fireplace. His foot hurt, but the pain only fuelled him.

"I wanted to tell someone, I really did," began Ginny quickly. "It's just that I never had the opportunity. I was afraid you would react the way you did. Ron would go skits and, well, you know the history of my family and Draco's. Remember the fight in Flourish and Blotts? There is no less hatred now than there was then. Oh, and incidentally, my name is Ginerva; thanks for knowing, Harry!"

"What about Hermione?" continued Harry, ignoring her outburst. He felt his temper rising. "Katie? Even Luna? They are indifferent, open minded. You could have had a little girlie talk."

"Oh, don't be so patronising," shot back Ginny, her voice rising. "Girls wouldn't keep it a secret any more than a boy would." Harry softened slightly and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Ginny, after what I said about trusting each other, why couldn't you have told me?" It came out as more of a plea than a question.

"I nearly did, I came so close but what happened to Katie was still so fresh in your mind. She was still in a coma. Harry, Draco is sorry, he really is. He knows it went too far."

"Ginny, don't make excuses for him," Harry cut her off. "We all have to pay the piper some day." Harry slowly moved to the seat opposite Ginny and sat down. He sighed and leaned towards Ginny in what he hoped was an imposing stance. He took a breath and managed to calm himself. "Tell me how all this happened." Ginny sighed and sat back. She took a sip of water and then spoke.

"We met at Diagon Alley," began Ginny. "After Dean dumped me, I went out to drown my sorrows and we met. He had just run away himself."

"Jesus," muttered Harry. He could see where this was going.

"You know what it's like, don't you, Harry?" said Ginny smiling slightly. She was staring at the floor, her eyes unfocused, and a knowing smile on her face. "You know what it is like when you're emotionally unstable and you meet someone in the same situation as you. You even asked me about it a few weeks ago."

"And you lied!" hissed Harry, feeling his temper slip away. "Anyway, me and Katie are different! She isn't a Death Eater. He is our enemy, Ginny! Do you envision some grand, star-crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet, love story or something? That is fiction, Ginny, he'll get you killed!"

"He wouldn't!"

"Yet he was part of the attack on the train that you were travelling on. Where was his protection then?"

"I..."

"For the last two months, you have been seeing him behind all our backs, cavorting with the enemy, aiding and abetting his freedom..."

"But..."

"Ginny, you knew where he was and didn't turn him in; that's a crime in itself!" The Ministry might get involved if this got out. Harry realised that he had to be careful here. If he told Dumbledore, she might be all right. If it got out that she knew Malfoy personally during his time on the run, the Ministry might arrest her for aiding and abetting. Harry softened; she needed to own up, but he didn't want her carted away.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ginny meekly. The fear was obvious in her voice.

"I don't know! I had hoped that you were under the Imperius Curse, then I could at least forgive you."

"I'm not, it was my choice," sighed Ginny, clearly fighting back tears. "I'm sorry," she wept, finally loosing it.

"Me too," whispered Harry, making no move to comfort her.

"Why?" sobbed Ginny, looking up at him with glistening eyes. She was giving him the Andrex-puppy eyes. Whether she was trying to win him over or she was genuinely scared, Harry couldn't tell; but he felt himself soften. He fought to remain objective and do what he knew was right.

"I promised you I wouldn't interfere," said Harry slowly.

"You're apologising for following me?" sobbed Ginny before Harry could finish.

"No, I promised that I wouldn't interfere, but I would protect you. That included from yourself; I failed. You could have dated Goyle and I wouldn't have batted an eyelid, but not him, Ginny, not him!"

"Who are you to judge him? Harry, he isn't evil, really. He is sorry, please, can't you help him?"

"Me?"

"Bring him back." How could she ask him this after all Malfoy had done?

"I can't," replied Harry.

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both," he shot back, trying to hold his temper.

"That's not fair."

"It is. He forfeited any right to sympathy when he did that to Katie."

"Look, it was wrong, but we have to move on." Something snapped in Harry. He almost leapt out of the chair. In an instant he was on his feet leaning over a recoiling Ginny. His nose was an inch from hers, his eyes bored into hers.

"Go upstairs, wake Katie and tell her that the boy who raped her is just misunderstood. Tell her that he is sorry and you are dating him and you want her to forgive him. Tell her 'we have to move on'! See how she takes it!" growled Harry. Ginny burst into tears again, and Harry sat back down. He was angry with her, but his heart melted as he watched her weeping. He couldn't help himself. He had been a bit harsh with the last comment. Emotional blackmail was a bit strong for someone in her condition. Harry slowly stood and sat next to her on the chair. He put an arm around her and pulled her gently to him. She sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," whispered Harry. Harry didn't know how long she wept. She sobbed for what seemed like ages into his shoulder. He could hear her sobbing.

"What have I done?" she wept. Harry didn't answer. This was her battle with her conscience. After what seemed like ages, Ginny stopped sobbing and looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy and her mascara was running down her cheeks in long, black smears.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered.

"I won't cover for you," began Harry slowly. "Dumbledore must know that he was on site tonight. I'll tell them in the morning. As for why he was here, I'll give you one week. You have seven days to come clean."

"That's blackmail," protested Ginny, sitting up and away from Harry.

"Yes, it is. If you don't like it, I can do it myself." Harry walked over to the table in the corner, on which spare parchment, ink, and a few school quills were kept. It was there in case you needed a piece of parchment for homework or needed to make a quick note. He pulled out a dirty old quill and a piece of parchment, and began to write, reading aloud as he went.

"Dear Fred and George,"

Ginny visibly paled. Harry looked up at her, letting the gravity of these simple words set in. Then he continued.

"Firstly, congratulations on the shop. I hear sales are booming, and your inventions are hugely popular around the common room. We're looking forward to your Hogsmeade branch opening. Filch is livid, but I can't seem to care. He's even started doing spot checks on random students for any WWW products. He caught Ron the other day. Since he had a Weasley nametag on his tie, Filch tried to confiscate that. Luckily, Flitwick happened by and told Filch where to stick it.

Anyhow, there is another important matter to which I must draw your attention. It concerns Ginny."

"Stop!" whined Ginny.

"They are your most volatile brothers, can you imagine what their reactions would be? I can send this letter, or you can confess. It sounds better coming from you. They will forgive you, if you have the courage to ask for it. They would forgive Percy if he apologized, but since he is being an arse, they are acting as they are. Don't be an arse; tell them. The Order must hear about Malfoy's presence tomorrow, the reason for it comes within seven days, or the twins will receive a letter from me."

"What about you?" asked Ginny, her anger perfectly obvious.

"Me?" asked Harry. He didn't understand what she was on about.

"You followed me. You knew I was going out and you didn't tell anyone. You followed me, without telling Ron or Hermione. You're in this as deep as I am."

"No, I'm not. True, it wasn't honest with Ron, and he may hate me for it. But I am saving you from yourself."

"Playing the hero again, Potter!" spat Ginny.

The words hit Harry harder than any of Malfoy's insults over the years. He didn't want to be the hero, but even his 'friends' thought he did. Not only had she used his surname, but also the whole 'playing the hero' debate was one of Harry's pressure points. He didn't want to be seen as trying to play the hero, but now even Ginny thought he was.

Had Malfoy corrupted her?

"You knew what he was," said Harry softly. "Why didn't you turn him in? You said it yourself, Dumbledore would forgive him, why didn't you turn him in?"

"I wanted him to turn himself in, just like you want me to confess myself."

"You can talk anyone into just about anything. Why didn't he?"

"He didn't want to end up in jail, or killed. You-Know-Who has spies everywhere, and if he came back, someone would kill him."

"Do you have so little faith in your own side?" asked Harry. "Or is it no longer your side. Are you a Death Eater?"

"What?"

"You heard. Are you a Death Eater?"

"How can you ask me that?"

"ARE YOU A DEATH EATER?"

"NO! Of course not!"

"Look me in the eye, and tell me you're not a Death Eater," said Harry firmly.

Ginny leaned forward, her nose three inches from his own. Her eyes looked directly into his. "I am not a Death Eater," she said firmly. Harry saw no hint of a lie. He hoped his Legimency was functioning. He wasn't sure how to do it. He hadn't seen a lie, but was that because he wasn't doing it right or that she was telling the truth.

"What have you done with Draco?" Ginny's question brought him out of his thoughts.

"He's gone."

"You didn't..."

"No, I didn't kill him. Though I came quite close. His face isn't as handsome as it once was, but he's alive."

"You bastard!" hissed Ginny, withdrawing her wand and standing up.

Harry reacted faster than she did, bringing his wand up to defend himself. The tips were almost touching; both combatants looked each other directly in the eye. Harry didn't want to hurt her, but he knew how volatile she could be. He was watching her for any sign of her infamous Bat Bogey hex.

"He got less than he deserved. Voldemort was inside my head; he wanted me to kill him. He probably sent him to you to get me to kill. Still, I spared him."

"You lie!"

"I'm not. It was a plan to get me to kill. He was hoping to corrupt me and he used you and Malfoy to do it. He played the both of you."

"So it was all a lie?"

"No, I think what you two felt was real. I think he found out about it somehow, and then used it to his advantage. Malfoy may have even been under Imperius."

"The Imperius Curse?"

"How else do you explain Malfoy refusing to hex me, or to return any form of insult, even after I hit him? He even refused to get up after I knocked him down. Malfoy, on his hands and knees, in front of me? It had to have been a control curse."

"So he's a victim too?"

"He cursed his own mother in order to become a Death Eater. He is not a victim; he, like his father, are mere puppets to Voldemort's will, both believe they will share his power, and neither realise that he would kill them when he has no use for them."

"So he'll kill Draco?"

"I doubt it, not yet. He still has enough contacts within the school to be useful."

"And if he does kill him?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't really care at this moment in time. Lack of compassion was complete the wrong thing to show.

"You bastard!" Ginny's temper flared.

She fired a Bat Bogey hex straight at Harry. Luckily, he had enough time during her swish and flick to raise his shield. The hex ricocheted of the shield, hitting an armchair in the corner.

"Expelliarmus!" Her wand sailed over to Harry, who caught it.

"Bad idea, Ginny," said Harry softly. "I'm off to bed now, you have seven days to tell Dumbledore and your brothers. Good night." He threw Ginny's wand back to her and marched up the stairs, picking his sword and invisibility cloak up before leaving. He sneaked into his dormitory. Katie was already asleep in his bed. He knew he couldn't tell her about this, not until Ginny confessed. He would have to lie to her. The moonlight glistened off of her blond hair. It highlighted her features.

God, thought Harry. She is so beautiful. And I allowed the man who nearly raped her to escape. And then there's Ginny. What am I doing?

Harry removed his dirty clothes and climbed into bed. Katie moaned in her sleep as he snuggled in next to her. Just before Harry fell into a sleep, he felt a sharp burst of pain in his scar. Somewhere, Draco Malfoy was discovering the price of failure.

~~~~ + ~~~~

The next morning, Harry left Katie sleeping in the bed, while he marched over to Dumbledore's office. He had to tell him that Malfoy had been on the school grounds last night, but he wasn't sure how to do it without implicating Ginny. She had to come clean by herself. Forced attrition would not help anyone. Ron would do his nut when he found out Harry had been protecting her. Katie would crucify him when she found out he had known about Malfoy. This was a no win situation.

He climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office and knocked. When the door opened, Harry found himself face to face with Severus Snape.

"What do you want, Potter?" said the Potions Master flatly.

"I need to speak with the Headmaster," said Harry softly. Looking over Snape's shoulder, he could see Black, Lupin, McGonagall and Moody sitting around the Head's desk. Dumbledore's chair was hidden behind Snape's head.

"The Headmaster is very busy, Potter. Is this important?"

"Draco Malfoy was on site last night," said Harry flatly.

Narcissa dropped her cup, which shattered on the floor. Snape blinked and took a step back. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that.

"Can I come in, or do you want everyone in the corridor below to hear us?" Snape stepped aside, and Harry entered the office. "You're too kind," he added in a whisper as he passed the Potions Master. He heard Snape take a breath, but he didn't say anything. Not in front of the Headmaster.

"Have a seat, Potter," said McGonagall crisply as she conjured a chair from thin air.

"When do we get to do that?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"After Christmas we will begin conjuring," she replied. "Now, to business. What was young Malfoy doing last night?"

"And more to the point," added Snape icily. "How do you know about it?"

"When one goes Marauding," began Harry softly. "One has to know what obstacles are on the map." He shot a meaningful look at Remus who nodded in understanding. Dumbledore also seemed to get it.

"So once you knew he was here, what did you do?" asked McGonagall.

"I went to see for myself," said Harry, avoiding all eye contact. There was an obvious flaw in his lie, but he had to let Ginny own up by herself.

"Did he see you?" asked Dumbledore.

"I made my presence felt," said Harry. He now had to confess to beating him up and using the Dark Arts on him. This was turning out to be a bad idea and Harry realised just how out-of-line he had been.

"Meaning?" asked Snape; though Harry had a feeling he already knew what was coming.

"I may have broken his nose."

There was a pause. Narcissa was not looking happy, though she tried to hide it. The others were looking grave. They exchange glances with each other in silence.

"OK, not the smartest thing to do, I know," said Harry, both to break the silence and to get it off his chest. "But he deserved it!"

"What was he doing here?" asked Dumbledore, getting Harry off the hook, but at the same time, condemning him. Harry's blood ran cold. He should have expected this question. How to answer without implicating Ginny?

"He was here as part of one of Voldemort's plans to get me to join him," said Harry carefully.

"He was here to recruit you?" asked Remus.

"No, he was here to infuriate me enough to kill him," said Harry slowly. He was making sure every word did not refer to Ginny.

"How do you know this?" asked Dumbledore.

"Because when I was out there, I felt his presence in my mind. My scar hurt and I heard him in my head. He told me to kill him, he said that I should take revenge for...what he did to Katie."

"And did you?" asked Narcissa, her voice cracking.

"No, I told him to run, and he did."

"Harry," began the Headmaster. "Why did you not summon one of us? We could have brought young Mr Malfoy in alive and not put you in a position where Voldemort may have convinced you to use an Unforgivable curse."

"I didn't think," replied Harry. He knew the story was full of holes. Once Ginny came clean, the whole story and the motives behind it would emerge. For now, he had to lie.

"That much is clear," added Snape.

"Severus!" said the Headmaster firmly.

"He and I have a complicated history," said Harry. He hung his head; he knew he was in the wrong, but he felt a need to justify his actions. The only trouble was that he couldn't. "I wanted to...I don't know. I wanted to scare him, to make him sorry."

"To hurt him?" asked Dumbledore directly.

"Not really, well, yes, but...oh, I don't know," stammered Harry. He genuinely didn't know what he had wanted to do when he saw him.

"How did you feel?" asked Dumbledore softly.

"In what context?" asked Harry.

"How did you feel when you saw him, face to face."

"Anger," confessed Harry. He hung his head; he knew he was wrong. "Pure anger, I wanted to make him sorry for what he did. I know what you are going to say. I told you I'd try and keep clear of anger; I know I failed. I'm sorry."

"Look, Harry," began Dumbledore. "I may not have been entirely honest with you." Harry's head came up in a flash.

"Oh, what now?" asked Harry with a tone that was half-exasperated and half-angry. How could Dumbledore do this, again?

"I told you to steer clear of anger altogether," began the Headmaster "Anger is itself a very powerful emotion. Bottling it all up inside is bad for you, you become a ticking time bomb and I believe you may have 'detonated' tonight, luckily, not too severely. There is nothing wrong with feeling anger; it is as natural as any other emotion. I told you to avoid it, in order to get a grip on your temper. Look at yourself now. Since we last spoke, you have calmed down, got a hold on your temper, your Occlumency has improved, and you are by all accounts a nicer person. You can feel anger, it does you no harm but it does make the Dark Arts more tempting, as they run off of anger. This would give you access to darker spells and send you down the road to becoming either a Death Eater or a Dark Wizard."

"So, I may be calmer now, but that doesn't change the fact that you lied to me, after telling me, to my face, that you wouldn't anymore."

"Harry, please listen," said Dumbledore. "I did tell a white lie."

"But still a lie," interrupted Harry.

"A lie then," continued Dumbledore. "But ask yourself this. In my position would you have done the same, knowing what good it has done you?"

"You're right, as usual," sighed Harry. "It's just that you said I had to make the choice. But, how can I, if everything I do is a result of your manipulation?"

"A good point," said Dumbledore. "I am aware that I am once again in the wrong in your books, Harry. This problem with young Malfoy must be resolved, but not by the approach you employed last night. I am obliged to take five points from Gryffindor for being out of bed after hours, and five more for fighting. In addition you will receive a detention with Professor Snape next Monday, in which he will assess your skill at Occlumency and evaluate your accidental Legimency. Now, Mr Potter, we have important business to attend to. I believe they are serving breakfast."

Harry took the hint and left. As he passed the door, he heard McGonagall speak.

"He has a point, Albus. We can't run his life for him."

~~~~ + ~~~~

Over the next few days, Ginny avoided Harry like the plague. They didn't say a word to each other, and Harry got the impression that Dumbledore and McGonagall were also avoiding him. Harry's next big challenge came on Tuesday: his Apparation theory test. Mr Ashby arrived at ten to one, while Harry was eating lunch and flicking through the theory book. He finished quickly and Mr Ashby took him to the ministry by Portkey at two o'clock. They walked swiftly down to the Department of Magical Transportation. There he was met by an elderly wizard in orange robes. He was asked to surrender his wand, and then, while Mr Ashby sat in the waiting room, Harry was led through to the test centre by the examiner. He was given a brief guide to the test before being guided to a workstation.

What Harry found odd, when he entered the test room, was that the theory test was done on a laptop. A dozen glass cubicles lined the wall, each with a desk, a pair of headphones and a laptop.

"Why do you use laptops?" Harry asked the wizard who was in charge of the centre. It seemed odd to him that the Ministry would employ Muggle technology in their business.

"Times have changed, Mr Potter," answered the wizard. "We are at war, after all. Also, we get so many applicants we just can't cope. We did have another office up in Liverpool, but since the war, most of the staff had to be reassigned to MLE and the Aurors, so they had to shut that office down. Consequently, we handle every applicant. Muggles are incredibly resourceful so we borrowed these, hired a squib to design the program, and then we use these. It marks the test itself and then we give you the mark. That means we only need two people to run the test centre. Everyone else can either do Practical tests or have been transferred downstairs to the Magical Law Enforcement offices. These Muggles, some of the things they come up with are ingenious. They're not as stupid as we think, are they?"

"No, they're not," agreed Harry. "I've never used one before, so..."

"It's OK; there is an instruction video on the computer."

He sat down at the computer that the wizard pointed to. He put on the headphones and looked at the screen.

It read,

POTTER, HARRY JAMES

LICENSE NUMBER: POTTE831017HJ9YD

IF THIS IS CORRECT, PRESS ENTER

There was a picture showing where the enter button was on the keyboard. Harry pressed it. A voice came on through the headphones.

Welcome to the Apparation Theory test. The test will last approximately twenty minutes and is divided into two parts. The first part is the question and answer round. You will receive twenty questions and four possible answers for each. Click on an answer with the mouse and it will turn blue, and then click on 'next' to move on to the next question.

While the voice talked, a small video showed a hand moving the mouse to click on the answer. It seemed easy enough.

Click 'back' to go back to the previous question. To change an answer click on the new answer and it will glow blue while the old answer returns to its previous colour. When you are happy with all twenty answers, click on 'Finish'. The maximum mark for this section is twenty marks. You must score sixteen or more out of twenty to pass this section.

The second part of the test is the Hazard Perception Phase. You will be shown five still photos. In each case, the location is unsuitable for Apparating. You must identify the reason for this and click on it. A yellow circle will appear around where you have clicked. If you wish to change your answer, simply click on the new hazard and the circle will move to this new hazard. The maximum mark for this section is ten marks. You must score seven marks or more out of ten to pass this section. To repeat the instructions, click on 'Repeat Instructions'. To begin the test click on 'Start'.

Harry took a deep breath and clicked on Start. Question one appeared on the screen.

Q 1: Which of the following are not permitted to Apparate?

Harry smiled at the second available answer. He clicked on the right answer, number three, and then he clicked on next. The test went on like that. Harry found the questions quite basic. He had read the theory book several times and even had Katie throw him random questions at break times. He finished all twenty in about eight minutes by his watch. He clicked back twenty times and checked over each of his answers. He was only unsure of one,

Q 17: The maximum penalty for Apparating without a licence is...

Azkaban had been destroyed. Did the computer programme know that? He knew there was a fine involved, so it couldn't be 2. Was it Azkaban? Was it a normal jail and for how long? After debating for a minute, Harry had selected 3. He still had nineteen which he was sure were right, so he would still pass if it was wrong.

He clicked on finish and then moved onto the Hazard Perception part of the theory test.

The first photo showed an alleyway. At first Harry thought it was safe, but then he looked more closely. There was a CCTV camera on the wall. Luckily, he spotted it. He clicked on the camera. A yellow circle appeared around the camera, signalling that he had clicked on it. Satisfied, Harry clicked on 'Next'. The other four pictures were much the same, the hazards ranging from Muggles, to cameras, to a television news crew. Harry finished the test quickly and clicked on finish. The screen changed.

Congratulations, you have completed your Apparation Theory Test.

Please remove the headphones and replaced them on the hook.

Please make you way out to the front desk to collect your results.

Thank you!

Harry did as he was told. He approached the reception desk with a frog in his throat. Had he passed, he didn't know if he could face the shame of telling people he had failed the theory test. The questions had appeared to be so basic; Fred and George had said that they didn't know of anyone who had failed it. It was supposed to be so easy. What if he failed? It would be all over the papers. Boy-Who-Lived fails the easiest test in history!

"All finished?" asked the Wizard on duty, a different one from that who had welcomed him.

"Yes," said Harry quietly. He felt so nervous. The questions were replaying in his head; did he get them right? His blood ran cold.

"How do you think you did?" asked the guard with a smile. Harry really wished he would get on and tell him.

"OK," muttered Harry.

"Better than OK, Mr Potter. I am pleased to inform you that you have passed." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He felt like dancing, but managed to maintain his dignity by not dancing. "You got two wrong on the question and answer section."

"Number 17?"

"No, 12 and 19. You got eight out of ten for the Hazard perception. The one in the park with the man walking around the bushes, do you now which one I mean?

"Yes."

"The man was wearing robes; he was a wizard. The hazard was the child on the swings to the right of the photograph. You missed that but it is still a well-deserved pass. Just hang on while I get you your certificate."

He waited while the wizard printed his certificate. He felt so relieved. Mr Ashby was sitting outside. Harry gave him a quick thumbs-up. Mr Ashby smiled and nodded.

"Do you know how to work these computer things?" asked the examiner; bringing Harry's attention back to the room. He was leaning over a computer. The printer was whirring and lights were flashing on it.

"Not really," replied Harry. "Sorry."

Then the printer started to print and the paper came sliding out. The examiner opened a drawer and took out a black certificate. He took a quill and filled in Harry's name and license number. He signed it and removed the printed sheet from the printer.

"They installed them about three months ago, just when the new Hazard Perception section was started. I still find them complicated. How Muggles can make them do all those things, I tell you, Mr. Potter. Muggles are cleverer than we give them credit for. Here we are." He handed Harry a certificate. It was yellow and bore the crest for the Ministry. "Right, Mr. Potter, listen carefully. When you book your Practical you will need to quote this number, and your Apparation License number. The waiting list is about a month and a half long so I would book it as soon as possible. This..." he handed Harry the printout, "...is your results sheet. It shows the number you got right and wrong, the correct answers and information like that. Good luck with your practical test."

"Thanks," smiled Harry. He took the paper and turned to leave.

~~~~ + ~~~~

The delight of having passed his test did not wear off for about a week. On Friday the following week, Harry woke up in the early hours with Katie's head resting on his chest. He lay there for half an hour dozing; he could feel her light breath on his chest. It was half past four and the sun was still not up. Arwen was on the chest of drawers, busily devouring a freshly caught fish, her blue plumage glowing in the dimness.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. He had the OM ceremony this afternoon and that was after four lessons. Luckily, he had a free period lesson one. Katie, on the other hand, didn't. By now he even knew her timetable off by heart. He yawned and tried to let his mind drift, willing sleep to return. When it found him, it was not the kind of sleep he had wanted.

He was standing in a room, a large dining room. He was sitting at a long wooden table with many papers spread out in front of him. There was a large chandelier illuminating the room directly above the table. The walls were covered with portraits of witches and wizards. Harry glanced down at the papers before him. He picked one up and began to read. It was in a language Harry neither recognised nor understood. He pulled and wand out of his pocket and tapped the paper. The letters glowed then changed. The paper was now in English.

"Much better," muttered Harry.

Memorandum

From: Oberleuntnant Von Lichtinstein, Nazi Party Staff Office

To: General Schreiber, Supreme Commander, German Forces, Africa

By personal command of the Fuhrer, all gold bullion captured by the German Army in Africa is to be returned to Berlin.

"Useless," spat Harry. "Where in Berlin? Where are the caches kept?"

There was a knock on the door.

"Come!"

"Master," said a nervous voice.

"Speak, I don't have time for your stuttering!" hissed Harry.

"Master, The Guardian is here to see you!" said the Death Eater quickly. About time, thought Harry bitterly.

"Show him in," replied Harry. He stood and threw the paper he had just been reading in the bin. The door opened once more and a figure in black stepped into the room. He was about Harry's height, just a little smaller. He wore black robes covered in a hooded clock. Harry couldn't even see the shadows of his face. Light around him seemed to dim in order to hide his face. His arms were crossed, concealing his hands in the folds of his clock.

When he spoke his voice was an inhuman growl, it was low, gravely and obviously false. It was again a method of concealing his identity.

"Any luck?" growled the Guardian

"None," replied Harry. "There is plenty about sending valuables back to Berlin from all over Nazi territory but the Sceptre would have been in Germany to start with, wouldn't it?"

"Correct," growled the Guardian. "It was forged outside Munich, and then split into two pieces. From there the trail runs cold."

"Are you sure you can't tell me anymore?"

"I have told you all I can. Lily Potter took the Sceptre before I could recover it. It was all I could do to stop her telling the Order of the Phoenix all she knew. The headpiece was taken by the German Army to keep it safe."

"And in obliviating Potter, you wiped the memory of the only person who knew where the Sceptre is," sighed Harry.

"If the Order of the Phoenix got hold of it, or I was compromised, it would've been destroyed. I did what I had to do to preserve the Dark Alliance. Anyhow, I cannot un-ring a bell. Lily Potter was good but not a genius, she couldn't have hidden it too well. It is only a matter of time before it is found."

"Perhaps we had better hasten our search. The Sceptre activates in three months," said Harry. "It would be so much easier if you hadn't hidden it at all."

"I was honest back then. I thought it would be safe."

"Well, it isn't."

"While we are dealing out blame, TOM," said the Guardian with even more of a growl. "If you had killed that sneak like I told you to instead of feeding him lies, the Order of the Phoenix would never have found out about the Sceptre. Lily Potter wouldn't have found it and I wouldn't have had to track her down."

"If you had found her faster she wouldn't have had time to conceal it"

"I could have got a confession out of her if you had kept Dumbledore's stupid Order out of my way."

"Look, this is getting us nowhere," said Harry raising his hands, to signal a truce. "We have both made mistakes. You're right; it is only a matter of time before it is found. That is as close to an apology as you will ever get, so take it. We will have the Sceptre in a few weeks. I am still having no luck tracking down the headpiece. I am fairly sure it was sent back to Berlin. When the army went on the defensive, Hitler ordered all gains to be returned to the fatherland. We know that the sceptre is in this country and the headpiece is in Germany, other than that we are stumped."

"Has our friend told you anything?" asked the Guardian.

"Nothing, he didn't know of our kind's involvement," replied Harry.

"Keep looking," growled the Guardian. This time, his growl contained a note of amusement. "While I'm here, how did the 'lovebirds' get on?"

"Potter made an impression on his face, literally. He didn't kill him, the boy still has too much compassion, but his anger is growing. I could feel it flowing through him. He will come around, eventually."

"The sooner the better, then we can fully devote out attention to the problem at hand."

"Do you want to hear something amusing?" asked Harry.

"What?"

"I think the boy genuinely likes the Weasley girl," laughed Harry. "The Imperius curse was strong enough, but I believe he actually likes her."

"Oh, Merlin," sighed the Guardian. Harry couldn't see, but he was sure that the Guardian was rolling his eyes. "Are you going to kill him?"

"When he ceases to be useful," continued Harry, matter-of-factly. "Now, we have other things to attend to. You are aware that Harry Potter is to receive the Order of Merlin?"

"For defeating your Dementors, yes. The Minister is more cunning than I gave him credit for. He is blowing it out of proportion to make it look like they are winning. Incidentally, the attack should have been postponed once you learned that Potter and Dumbledore were in the area."

"You failed to keep him away," shot back Harry. "I am thinking that we need to show Mr. Potter that he can't just interfere and then walk away."

"What have you got in mind?" asked the Guardian. Harry saw his hands come out from within his cloak. They slowly made their way to the hood he was hearing. He was just about to lower it, when Harry became aware of a feeling that he was being watched. He could feel another presence.

"STOP!" hissed Harry.

"What is it?" growled the Guardian.

"He is watching."

"Get rid of him!" Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, summoning all the hatred he possessed.

Harry sat bolt upright in his bed; his scar was stinging like fury. Katie whose head had been resting on his chest was woken up with a start. Harry managed to hold back a scream. He was sweating all over, the dream he had just had repeating in his head.

"Harry? Are you OK?" asked Katie wearing a very worried expression

"I saw him!"

"Who?"

"The Guardian. The man who works with Voldemort as an equal!"

"Who was he?"

"I don't know I only saw him with a hood. He was about to lower it when Voldemort detected me."

"You should tell Dumbledore!"

"Yeah, I know," Harry slumped back down on the pillow. "Let me wake up properly first."

Katie leaned in and kissed him on the lips. "Better?"

"A bit."

She rolled on top of Harry, her lips less than an inch away from his. He could feel her warm breath on his lips. Their eyes locked for a second before she lowered her lips to his. Her hands stroked Harry's chest as his arms slithered around her hips. He knew full well that they had to stop. He could feel her holding back; she was not ready for this yet. The fell of her warm body against his was wonderful; he wished this moment could last an eternity. However, he knew he had to end it. He broke the kiss after a few seconds, and she rolled off him. They lay there in silence, Harry held her in his arms. The light of day was shining softly through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating her face. She is so beautiful, thought Harry to himself. Harry brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face with his hand. It was Katie who spoke first.

"Oh, God! Potions, double Defence, then Charms. Then the bloody OM and as if I don't have enough to do there's Quidditch tomorrow. How much do you want to bet that Ron will want another practice tonight!"

"We've practised every day this week!" pointed out Harry.

"Didn't stop Wood, didn't stop Angelina, what chance has it got of stopping Ron?"

"Good point. Damn, I've got to tell Dumbledore about this sodding dream."

"He'll be asleep. Wait until breakfast."

"OK."

Dumbledore noted down the details of the dream in a few seconds, and then told Harry, rather firmly, to go down to breakfast. He seemed to be very busy, but Harry lacked the enthusiasm to ask if it was anything to do with the Order. He doubted he would get a truthful answer. The revelation that Dumbledore still kept things from him and manipulated him had destroyed a lot of the trust that Harry had rebuilt in Dumbledore. Since arriving back from the ministry, Harry had slowly, but surely, built up a trust for the Headmaster once more. Dumbledore had just gone and shattered that. Was honesty really too much to ask? You're keeping secrets too, aren't you? said a mischievous voice in the back of his head. He was, he was protecting Ginny whether he liked it or not. Bugger! He had given Ginny seven days, yet somehow he had forgotten about it. He still hadn't sent the letter and to the best of his knowledge, Ginny hadn't confessed yet.

As he came down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, he happened to bump into said Weasley.

"Oh, sorry!" apologised Harry. He then realised who it was. Ginny glared at him before stalking away.

"Ginny!" called Harry.

She ignored him, quickening her walk. Harry ran after her, catching up within a few paces and grabbing her arm. "Listen!" he said firmly. "We need to talk!"

"So talk," said Ginny coldly.

"Have you told anyone yet?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Haven't found the right time."

"Look, Ginny. I haven't sent a letter. I meant to, but I forgot. Look, in all seriousness, please own up."

"To give your conscience a break?"

"I don't want to force you into attrition," said Harry.

"What?"

"Forced attrition. It's when you repent but not because you choose to."

"Like if someone is, say, blackmailing you?" her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Exactly," said Harry. "Look, I'm sorry. But we are both in this and the only way for a happy ending is if you of your own free will, own up. I've given you nearly double the seven days I should have; you've had twelve. Ginny, I know you are mad, I was not the most supportive friend in the world, but you can't deny I am right. You have to own up."

"And get Draco sent to jail?"

"If it is any conciliation to you, I had one of those dreams this morning. Malfoy was under the Imperius cure, but Voldemort also believes that he genuinely likes you."

Ginny's eyes lit up. He smiled slightly before remembering whom she was talking to. She glared once more, but couldn't hold it. She smiled again.

"He really likes me?" she asked.

"Voldemort believes it. I may have over reacted, Ginny. As you know we have a rough history. That doesn't excuse what I did, but it does explain it. I hurt Malfoy, and I admit, I felt a glimmer of satisfaction at the time. Now I've calmed down, I...."

"You what?"

"I can't blackmail you," said Harry, evading the question to which he didn't honestly know the answer. "You have to want to come clean. Malfoy suffered the Cruciatus Curse after I didn't kill him. That was the price of failure. I think he is in over his head."

"He tortured him?"

"Yes."

Ginny leaned against the wall and hung her head.

"This is all my fault," she sobbed.

"No, it's Voldemort's fault, Ginny," said Harry softly. "If you want to save your b...boyfriend" Harry found the word difficult to say. "You will need Dumbledore's help."

"OK, I'll do it," sobbed Ginny. "I'll do it."

"He's busy now, Ginny. He as good as told me to bugger off just now."

"I'll do it tomorrow, after your OM. That's what he's probably organising."

"Just make sure it is the day after today. Tomorrow never comes, Ginny."

"I promise, I will," sobbed Ginny. "And Harry, thanks. I know I was harsh on you, but I can see that you were trying to do the right thing. So, thanks."

Harry nodded and she slowly walked away, drying her eyes as she did so. "Oh, and Harry," she called. "Congratulations on the OM." He nodded.

I hope she does go to Dumbledore; I really do, thought Harry as he made his way to Muggle Studies.

Harry sat through five lessons without taking in a word. He sat lost in thought for the whole time except for the beginning of Narcissa's Defence lesson. He had no wish to end up in the hospital wing because he wasn't paying attention. After her arrival Narcissa announced that today's double period would be a theory lesson. Harry wrote down what was on the board without even thinking, all he could do was think about the hooded figure in his dream.

~~~~ + ~~~~

At half past six that evening, Harry made his way down to the common room. He still felt that tonight's award was blood money. His mind couldn't forget the image of the child being kissed. Those eyes! Harry kept playing the incident over and over again. While he waited for Katie who was going to accompany him, Harry checked himself in the mirror. His hair was still quite short and the white patch over his right eye was still clearly visible. True to Katie's request and despite Wick's continuous baits, Harry had kept it. His face was all healed and his green eyes were sparkling. He had considered buying new dress robes, but he had a perfectly good set which Mrs Weasley had brought him. He had used them once, for the ball in fourth year. A quick engorgement charm and they fitted. He wouldn't like to throw them away after being used only once. Having worn Dudley's second hand clothes for most of his life and having never received new clothes, Harry was accustomed to making things last. To be honest, he liked these robes; they matched his eyes and were comfortable. They were a lot better than some of the things he had seen at the Yule Ball, not to mention Ron's frilly robes. Harry shouldn't really laugh at Ron, but, in hindsight, it had been quite funny. Harry had asked Dobby to iron his robes and to make sure they were perfect; in addition the elf had charmed them to smell subtly of something that Harry couldn't identify. He was never a keen botanist but he was sure it was some type of flower. He had put on some deodorant, which mingled with the smell anyway. His trainers were cleaned and shined, though they remained almost hidden beneath his robes. Dumbledore had learned from the mistakes of the past. He knew that Harry should never go anywhere without a wand. He had allowed him to retain his wand. At present it was concealed up his right sleeve, secured by a bit of sticky-tape. All he had to do was concentrate on the tape and it would fall away and the wand would fall into his hand. He wore a thin pair of white cotton cloves. It seemed a bit rude to wear gloves to this sort of occasion, but he had to on his right hand, and one glove looked stupid or implied that he was hiding something, which, although he was, should not be advertised. He could always say it protected a healing wound. He thought he would be safe at the Ministry, but Voldemort had broken in last year. Not to mention the fact that he knew where Harry was going to be and when. He could attack the building and wipe out Harry and half the ministry in one blow. Tactically, attending this ceremony was very dangerous. Mad-Eye would be unbearable this evening.

Harry was alone in the common room. It was dinnertime, so everyone else was in the Great Hall eating. Ron, Ginny and Hermione, who were attending the ceremony, had left earlier. For safety reasons, Harry would arrive at the ministry only five minutes before he had to go out on stage, this would give any potential assassin 'a smaller window of opportunity' as Moody had phrased it. They had ten minutes to go before they had to leave. He was ready and was just waiting for Katie. On reflection, Harry wondered why girls took so long to get ready. He had taken ten minutes in the shower, five to get dressed, five to do his hair, teeth and to gather his belongings. Had hadn't rushed by any means and after twenty minute he was ready. Katie had disappeared about ninety minutes before him. What could possibly take so long? It was one of the hundreds of questions that he had about girls. What did they do that took so long? Why do they go to the toilet in groups? Why do they wear high-heals when they are impossible to walk in and give them blisters? No male would ever understand the complex inner-workings of the female mind. Harry wondered if it was appropriate to ask Katie about this and the many other questions he had. Would she deem it as sexist and slap him? Oh well, maybe some other day. Right now, he wished she would hurry up. Katie had never been a girly girl. She wasn't a tomboy, but she wasn't the giggly, squeamish little schoolgirl that Cho had been. She wore make-up, but not so much as to make her look like something out of Vogue. Harry checked his watch, 18:40; they had ten minutes to get to Dumbledore's office. From there they would take a Portkey to the Ministry.

Just then the door opened behind Harry. He turned to see if it was her, and his mouth fell open. There was only one word for her: beautiful. She looked like an angel. He dress robes were pale blue and came down to her ankles. A slit up the right side of the dress revealed her perfect legs as she walked. The dress itself clung to her form beautifully and draped over her shoulders, though not tied, was a cloak of the same colour. The pale blue cloak sparkled in the light. As for her face, she had literally let her hair down. She normally wore it in a short ponytail, now it descended to jut below her shoulders. Her dirty-blonde hair had been straightened and highlighted. She was wearing make-up. Not enough to look obviously false but just enough to make her look...'angelic' was the only word Harry could think of.

"Good evening," she greeted as she arrived.

"Goov-ning" was all that Harry could stutter in response.

"Like the dress?" asked Katie.

"It'll do," grinned Harry, earning himself a smack on the arm. "You look...perfect," said Harry at last. He couldn't help but wonder if the line was too corny. Katie didn't bat an eyelid so he assumed he had gotten away with it. They walked up to Dumbledore's office, encountering no one on the way.

They had to pause once on the way so that Katie could cast a warming charm over herself. The dress robes, although beautiful, were rather thin and didn't offer much protection from the wind. Once she had done the charm they carried on and arrived right on time in Dumbledore's office.

"Ready to go?" beamed the Headmaster, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Yep," said Harry. He wasn't enthusiastic, but he tried to look at least happy about this evening. He had been told what to expect. Shaking hands, sitting down, Fudge's speech, more shaking hands, speech for which he had written a few lines of drivel and then a lot more shaking of hands and a buffet dinner. What an evening.

They were going by Portkey, as they didn't want the Floo system to mess up their clothes. It was a little vain, but since he was such an important icon, he couldn't turn up looking like he had slept in a Biffa Bin. The Portkey turned out to be a magnifying glass. They landed in a small room that resembled waiting room. There was a coffee table in the middle with a few magazines on it. Around it were four sofas, one on each side of the table.

"Harry, Kathryn," said Dumbledore. "Would you please wait here? I have to see if they are ready for you." Harry nodded and the Headmaster left. Harry took a seat on one of the sofas, while Katie looked at the paintings on the wall. They were all landscapes, in which Harry could see the trees blowing in the wind and the ripples blowing across the surface of the lakes. Birds flew in the sky and the sun shone down. They made for much more interesting decorations than is generally found in a Muggle painting. Harry had never been into art. He knew what he liked and didn't really care about much else. Why spend millions on a painting that is crap, just because a famous person painted it? Anyhow, it didn't matter; he was only in this room for a few more minutes. Katie was examining a figurine of what looked like a Veela, which was sitting in the desk.

"This is posh, isn't it," she murmured.

"Only the best for Fudge," replied Harry darkly.

"If this is real," said Katie pointing to a painting that depicted several bees buzzing around a flower. "Then it is worth nearly two hundred and fifty."

"Galleons?"

"Thousand galleons," finished Katie. "I read that it had been sold for that much to a private collector. I think we've found out who." Harry whistled. That is a lot, what kind of idiot spends that much on a painting?

"Do you think he used a company cheque?" asked Harry, initially as a joke but then realised that he was probably very close to the truth.

"A what?"

"Did he use ministry money to buy it?"

"Probably," replied Katie darkly. "Death Eaters on the loose, shall I buy more prison cells or a painting? Gee, let me think!" her voice oozed sarcasm with every word, causing Harry to crack a smile.

"A sense is taken you don't think it was a worthy investment," said Harry innocently, as he stood and walked over to Katie.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, with an equally innocent tone.

They both dissolved into laughter, but sobered up after a few moments.

"Look, Harry," said Katie seriously. "You are probably not going to like me saying this, I know how you feel. But, you did save a lot of lives. You do deserve this award; whatever you think yourself, you deserve it. I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

She kissed him softly on the lips. Her warm lips pressed against his. Harry felt an overwhelming desire to pull her to him; to snog her senseless, but he knew he couldn't and managed to restrain himself. He broke the kiss after a few seconds. Looking at her in her finest clothes, Harry's heart fluttered. She was absolutely perfect.

"One thing, Katie," began Harry after realising something quite important. "I love the dress, but I can't help but wonder, where do you keep your wand? You have got it on you, haven't you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she grinned deviously. She opened the cloak a little more and just inside the seam on the right side was her wand, sticking out of a long narrow pocket, specifically designed to hide a wand.

"Cunning," muttered Harry. Harry was about to kiss her again when they were interrupted.

The door opened just then, and Dumbledore came in, followed closely by the Minister of Magic. Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling, complimenting his blue robes. Fudge was clad in what looked to Harry like a tuxedo, where the jacket was replace by a long flowing coat. It was probably made of silk. The occupant was grinning from ear to ear.

"Harry," he beamed. "So glad you could make it," he strode over to Harry and in one motion, swept Harry's hand into a firm handshake. Harry didn't really know what to do, he opened his mouth to say...something, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Fudge. "We are just about to start, so if you follow me onto the stage."

Harry's nerves must have shown, because Fudge broke into a broader grin, put and arm around Harry and tried to lead him to the door. "Don't worry, it's nothing, just follow and let me do the talking. There are a few high-liners who wish to meet you; I'll guide you through. Just stay close."

Suddenly he spotted Katie. "Ah, and you must be Miss Bell." Fudge beamed at her, forgetting about Harry and sweeping over to her, his long jacket billowing. Harry was reminded of Snape as the long black cloak trailed its owner. The difference was that however false Fudge sounded, he didn't carry the bitter feeling of anger and disgust that followed Snape around. Katie nodded to Fudge, forcing a smile. Harry knew of her dislike of the ministry, owing to their treatment of her father. Whether Fudge had been involved or not, Harry didn't know, but Katie looked none-too-pleased when Fudge took her hand and kissed it, in an overly elaborate gesture that made Harry struggle to hold back a laugh. Katie looked like she would like nothing better than to whack him on the nose, but she managed to stay calm.

"I knew your father," said Fudge warmly. Katie didn't move or react at all as far as Harry could see. Be careful, Fudge, thought Harry. Press the wrong buttons and you may find yourself in deep shite. "He was a good man," continued the Minister. "I'm sorry about your loss," he added unconvincingly.

"Thanks," muttered Katie quietly. He obviously hadn't won her over.

"So," continued Fudge. "Without further ado, everyone ready? Yes? Good! Please follow me."

Fudge went first, followed by Harry and Katie. Dumbledore brought up the rear as the small procession made its way towards the atrium. Harry recognised where they were the second they left the room, the bottom floor of the Ministry. They turned right towards the large double doors at the end, which lead into the Atrium. The last time that Harry had been through those doors, he had been in disgrace; this time he was being honoured. Times change, thought Harry. Funny old world. Then Harry saw it, the last door on the left. The plaque on the door was shining in the dim light.

Department of Mysteries

That is where Sirius had died. Behind that door...

Harry must have tensed up, because Katie felt a change in him.

"Hey?" she whispered softly in his ear. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. It's just that...that is where Sirius...." Harry gestured to the door. Katie followed his gesture and sighed.

"I know," said Katie softly. "It's OK." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. He felt her arm slip around his waist, and raised his to her shoulder. "Come on."

The precession neared the doors to the atrium. The last door they had passed led to the room in which Sirius had died, the next one to the room in which he had nearly been expelled. This hallway didn't hold any nice memories, just those he wished to forget. Near the door were a few men in robes. They were mostly old men, with long beards, and what looked like very expensive robes.

"Harry," said Fudge, stopping but the men. He turned to face Harry. "These are some businessmen who wish to meet you." Perfect, thought Harry bitterly. Slip Fudge a handful of gold and you get to meet me.

"Great," said Harry, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Mr Potter," said the first man, after shaking his hand. "The name's Grant. I work for Swift-Stick Brooms. My company is responsible for the Firebolt, which I believe you are familiar with, and the new Thunderbolt that will be out next spring." He was beaming from ear to ear. Harry had smiled slightly at the comment about his being 'familiar' with a Firebolt. This fuelled on Mr Grant.

"Hi," said Harry, trying to sound enthusiastic. He already had a broom and he wanted to get this evening over and done with.

"We were wondering if you would mind putting your name to the Thunderbolt and test flying it? Oh, not to worry, we'll have ironed out any flaws before you test it, it would merely be for publicity."

"Harry, it looks like you need an agent," laughed Fudge.

"Maybe some other time," said Harry. He felt insulted. They wanted him to increase their sales. They thought of him as a tool as well. He shook the hands of the other men, who also wanted his name on their product, though none were as enticing as the broom. He had no desire to put his name on a brand of Cod Liver Oil.

After he had met each of the businessmen and got his hand back from all the people who wanted to shake it, Fudge shoed the men into the side door of the atrium. They were given time to take front row seats before Harry entered. His sapphire hand saved him the pain of some of the more firm grips. He hoped he hadn't inadvertently crushed anyone's hand. His hands were both covered in white, silk gloves, which looked formal. If he had leather ones on, it would look out of place.

Harry took Katie's right hand in his left one. Harry realised that he could feel her shaking. He looked up at her. He could definitely feel her hand shaking slightly. She looked straight forward, determined not to face him. Her expression remained blank, then suddenly her cheek muscles began to tense, pulling her lips slowly back into a smile, and then she lost it. She burst out laughing and doubled up, clutching her stomach, trying to stop laughing.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Sorry," she said, still trying not to laugh. "I just have this mental image of you advertising Cod Liver Oil." She adopted a false American advertiser's voice. "Battling Death Eaters can be hard work; that's why I stay healthy with Wilkinson's Cod Liver Oil!" she dissolved into giggles.

"Thanks for that," said Harry trying not to laugh with her.

"Available from £1.99 at your local retailer," continued Katie through her giggles.

/p>

"Buy before the end of October and we'll even throw in a free T-Shirt," came another voice in a similar accent behind him. Harry turn to see Dumbledore smiling innocently at him.

"Not you too!" said Harry. Harry had never seen the Headmaster partake in such jokes. His humour was usually based around something quite dotty, or 'three creatures walk into a bar' jokes. Harry had never seen him enter into this kind of humour, especially at Harry's expensive. Harry couldn't keep a straight face; he joined in with the laughter.

Fudge reappeared at that point and lead Harry though the double doors into the Atrium.

The whole hall erupted into Applause and gasps. The fist thing that Harry saw was a series of white flashes, as photographers rushed forward to take their picture. Harry managed to not cover his eyes, but he knew the pictures would show him squinting. He felt Katie's hand tense as he was holding it. She still wasn't happy about being around crowds. He couldn't blame her, but it did mean that he wanted to sit down and get away from this mob quickly.

Harry was for the first time ever, grateful to Fudge. He led Harry and Katie up onto the stage and away from the rabble, as if he had read Harry's mind. Dumbledore took a seat on the end of the front row. Harry was lead up five steps onto the stage and shown to a seat amongst a row of ten, with a podium at the front of the stage. In front of him was a two-story theatre. The bottom floor sloped gently up and away from him at a slight angle. Above that was a balcony, which was much steeper and contained cinema style seats. Near the front row was a patch of red. Harry could see the entire Weasley family, with one exception, who happened to be sitting five seats to Harry's right. They all waved to him, but Harry thought it would be wrong to wave back. It made him look...wrong. It wasn't what you were supposed to do in a situation like this. He settled for a distinct nod and small bow in their direction. The photographers were along the front of the stage, shouting questions and snapping photographs of them. Harry was trying to ignore them but found it impossible.

"Harry, how does it feel to be getting the Order of Merlin?" asked one man.

"It feels great," said Harry. He was about to respond 'it feels fine', as he always did when asked a question like this, but he felt a little more pride was necessary, if only to send the world a message that the light side was winning, however much of a lie that was.

"Smile, Harry," whispered Fudge. "You're the hero of the hour."

Nothing happened at first. Fudge was bathing in the glory of being seen with Harry. He was trying to make amends for his blunder last year. It was starting to drag on and Harry was beginning to get bored. Katie was herself being asked to pose for photographs. A witch weekly journalist was asking her about her dress. Harry wondered if she could handle the stardom. She had never been chauvinistic; she had never been known to crave attention, except on the Quidditch pitch, when she was justifiably the centre of attention for much of the game.

"Come on, Harry," said a voice. "Look like you're enjoying yourself." Harry turned to see the treacherous Weasley standing behind him smiling.

"Percy," said Harry through his smile. He tried not to move his lips because the cameras were still on him. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to not hit you right now."

"Still mad about me leaving home?" asked Percy.

"Still mad about being proved wrong?" asked Harry again without moving his lips.

"It's politics, Harry," said Percy matter-of-factly. He was standing next to him, posing for more photographs with the boy who lived.

"It's bollocks, is what it is. Next time we meet, Percy, if you haven't apologised, one of us will leave with a broken nose."

Percy stepped forward and shook his hand, smiling for the camera. "Threatening a senior member of the ministry is a crime, Harry."

"Does this look like a face that cares?" shot back Harry, pointing to himself. "You said it yourself, I have no regard for the rules, I crave attention and I am a disturbed, possible violent little bugger. I read your letter to Ron. You're not fooling anyone, Percy; this is you and Fudge trying to make good on last year's balls up, and it was a balls up, Percy, not a breakdown in communication. Being seen with me and Dumbledore gives you back the people's trust."

"Dumbledore and I, idiot," shot back Percy, looking annoyed.

"I'll play along with this media circus, Percy," said Harry, ignoring Percy's outburst. "In return, you pull your thumbs out and do something about the Death Eaters." Harry walked away, back to where Katie was answering questions.

Percy took his seat. Harry also sank into his next to Katie.

The noise in the hall died down as everyone took their seat. Fudge walked to the Podium and cleared his throat. He took out his wand and cast the Sonorus charm on himself. Fudge's magically amplified voice filled the Auditorium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "Welcome to the Atrium. We usually use it for the unpleasant task of sentencing Death Eaters to prison. Today, I have the privilege of using it for a much happier occasion. The Order of Merlin, since its creation has been sought by many, and won by a precious few. It is a symbol of bravery, of honour, and commitment far beyond the call of duty. Today, I have the pleasure to award this prestigious award to Harry Potter."

Applause broke out around the hall. Harry could hear whistling and shouts amongst the clapping but he couldn't actually discern words. He smiled and waved. Fudge continued.

"Mr. Potter is the youngest recipient in the history of the award. If you had told me five years ago that I would be presenting our highest honour to a boy who hasn't even left Hogwarts yet, I would never have believed you. I would have said that no schoolboy would ever receive the award. Today, I prove myself wrong. Some say that he should have won the Order of Merlin, First Class sixteen years ago; indeed, there was much calling for it. But now, many years later, the darkness has risen again, and despite the personal tragedy that had befallen his family, he still continues to fight. This time, there's no excuse for him not to have it."

Another roar of applause filled the room as the crowd made their appreciation known. Fudge raised his hands for quiet before continuing.

"For outstanding courage, for dedication to the cause, for bravery beyond the call of duty, and for the rescue of over four hundred Muggles, I present the Order of Merlin, Second Class to Harry Potter."

The audience erupted into applause once more. Fudge turned to Harry and beckoned him to join him up on the podium. Harry slowly rose.

"Be right back," muttered Harry. He adopted a smile and walked over to join Fudge at the podium. Fudge took his hand and shook it firmly and held out the award. Harry took it, but did not remove it from Fudge's hand. This was another classic pose. They stayed still for a few seconds while the cameras flashed. Behind the stage, several small fireworks were set off; exploding twenty feet above the stage into showers of red, white, and blue sparks.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Fudge.

"Thank you," said Harry. He placed it down on the podium and cleared his throat. He cast the Sonorus charm on himself and faced the audience. The hall was deathly quiet. "Thank you all," began Harry. He started off by repeating what the Minister had said. "For bravery above and beyond the call of duty? It kind of makes me wonder if I deserve it. Professor Dumbledore once told me that it is our choices that make us what we are. When the Dementors appeared last week, or when the Death Eaters appeared in the Ministry last year, did I chose to be the hero. No, I didn't. I didn't choose to be a hero in any way, shape or form. I didn't choose to be an orphan, nor to have the Dark Lord dogging my every move. I couldn't help what happened all those years ago, but I have to live with them. The choice I made was to do my part; to do the best I could with the cards Fate had dealt me. Every one of you has the power in you to make a difference to our world. You just have to choose to use it. Every one of you has the power to turn the tables on Voldemort-" There were gasps at the use of his name. "-Voldemort's greatest weapon is fear. To have any hope of defeating something, you must first shed your fear of it. I consider it my duty to fight. I consider it your duty to fight. Bravery beyond the call of duty? No. Do what is right; fight for what you believe in. That is everyone's duty; nobody can ask more than that. When I last met Voldemort, he told me that Muggles were second-class citizens, that purity of blood governs everything. I dare say that some of you sitting here feel the same way. I've seen pure blood wizards who turn and run at the first sign of a Dementor. I've seen a Muggleborn witch, draw a wand against a party of Death Eaters who outnumbered us three to one. A person cannot be judged by their blood. In the famous words of Martin Luther King, more or less, 'I have a dream that my children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the purity of their blood, but by the content of their character.' If everyone here can do their duty; can put aside any prejudice of blood, tomorrow's world looks promising. If everyone here does their bit, Voldemort, and all those who follow him, will get the message. We will not surrender; we will not go quietly into the night. Murder and torture are not weapons with which to force a distorted ideology, and to those who use them; your day is over. Thank you."

Harry removed the charm and stood perfectly still at the podium. There was absolute silence in the hall. Not a person moved, Harry could have heard a pin drop. Suddenly there was movement out of the corner of eye. Harry looked over. Arthur Weasley had gotten to his feet. He began to clap. Every eye turned to him. He was one of the most known and loved members of the ministry. He was standing all by himself clapping. Around him, his family rose and joined him; then slowly but surely the entire hall joined in. Every person in the hall was on their feet applauding Harry. The camera once again began to flash and even the row of ten behind Harry had stood. Katie joined him at the podium, taking his hand in hers.

"Impressive speech. How long did that take you?"

"Half an hour and a lot of parchment. Six re-writes," whispered Harry.

He put an arm around her and picked up the award in its box from the podium. He held it high for all to see. Camera lenses flashed. His eyes moved around the front few rows, which he could actually see. He saw the Weasleys and smiled at them. Fred and George were firing what sounded like firecrackers out of their wands in applause. Harry saw some other Order members in the audience. McGonagall was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief and Remus and Narcissa were also clapping.

Just then Harry noticed someone to the left on the second row from the front. It was Narcissa. What? Narcissa is with Remus. Harry checked again and sure enough, Narcissa was applauding with Remus. He looked again and realised his mistake. It wasn't Narcissa; it was Bellatrix. She now had blond hair, but the vindictive smirk was unmistakable.

"Jesus!" gasped Harry.

He looked over at Dumbledore, then over to Bellatrix and then back to Dumbledore. Dumbledore followed Harry's gaze, his eyes coming to rest on Bellatrix. The old man reacted with speed that Harry wouldn't have thought possible. In the blink of an eye he was on his feet and sprinting towards Harry. He was nearly twenty feet from him and he still had the stage to climb. The noise of the crowd blocked Harry's senses; he felt his mind blank. He looked over at Dumbledore who was sprinting towards him, then back to Bellatrix. She pulled something out of her pocket, her wand. Harry grabbed Katie and flung himself backwards, taking her with him.

"GET DOWN!" he shouted.

The crowd fell almost silent as he dived backwards. Dumbledore was up on the stage by now and a few feet from them, his wand already drawn. It was obvious to anyone that something was wrong. Fudge disappeared behind he curtain in the flash of an eye. Coward! Harry looked over to Bellatrix. She smirked at him then swished her wand.

Harry just had time to say 'Bollocks' before he felt a tug behind his navel.

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his hand let go of the OM medal at last. He raised his head.

"Where are we?" he said.

"Don't know," whispered Katie. Harry felt her hand grasp his wrist so they didn't become separated.

They were standing on rough stone ground. There was darkness all around them. Harry couldn't see Katie and she was less than a foot from him. He felt her beside him; that was comfort enough. But this place was beginning to scare him. Bellatrix must have remotely activated the Portkey. That meant she wanted them here, or maybe just him. She might not even need Katie. This situation echoed a past experience in the back of Harry's mind. Then, she spoke.

"Wands out d'you reckon?"