Harry Potter and the Summer of the Dementors

Harry Apparated into the kitchen, and luckily, Remus was there.

"Harry! You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You've heard?"

"All sorts of rumours are flying around."

"I bet. Youngster goes berserk in Gringotts? Stunned goblins littering the floor?"

"Not quite, but close. And you got away from ... from Voldemort?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Page 236."

"What?" Remus looked at him, puzzled.

"The book we were working through last night. Page 236."

"Okay - what's on it?"

"How to make a Portkey."

"Ah." Remus' face cleared as he understood what Harry meant. "You actually did that? Made one and used it to get away?"

Harry nodded. "Used a piece of parchment."

"And it worked?"

"I'm here," said Harry briefly.

"My word," said Remus softly. "You were lucky to get away with that."

"I told Arbuthnot about the Portkey, but kept your name out of it."

"Thanks."

Harry paused awkwardly for a moment. "Look, hope you don't mind, but I'm spending the night at the Weasleys."

"Good Lord, no - give my regards to Molly and Arthur."

"Will do. And thanks."

"For what?"

"If we hadn't gone through the book ..."

Remus shrugged. "I enjoy doing that. I learnt stuff too. And it's easier with two. You can bat ideas off each other, that sort of thing."

"Yeah. Well, I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Well done today, Harry."

"Thanks."

The Weasleys were as welcoming as ever, and it was good to be able to relax again. Before they went to bed, Mr Weasley mentioned the debriefing. Harry promised he'd be in to the Ministry before ten the next day.

Mr Weasley nodded. "That's fine. Take your time. You may get grilled quite heavily - it'll be the little details they'll be after. The more we find out about You Know Who, the better."

Harry nodded. He'd been expecting something of the sort.

It was at times like this he was grateful for the high security pass he'd been given. Without it, he would have had to go through the atrium and sign in, and that would not have been a good idea after what had happened. He'd had enough of notoriety for time being. Mr Weasley had told him to Apparate directly to his office, and they agreed a time of ten o'clock. Harry stood looking as the second hand of his watch swept round, and then Apparated.

Mr Weasley was with Kingsley Shacklebolt and a witch Harry didn't recognise. Mr Weasley looked at the clock on the wall.

"Were you timing that?" he asked. Harry had to confess he was. "I think goblin habits are beginning to rub off on you. It's the sort of thing they do. By the way, this is Mary Tang." Harry nodded to the witch. "Let's make ourselves reasonably comfortable."

He moved his desk away with a wave of his wand, and they sat, Harry facing the two Aurors, Mr Weasley off to one side.

Harry began by going through his story again, and then the grilling started. It was odd - it was all very clear in his mind, but it was almost as if he had been watching it all rather than taking part. Often Harry had to confess he had no idea when he was asked a particular point of detail, but the Aurors just moved on. After an hour of this, Kingsley leaned back and said to Mary Tang: "Anything else?"

The short dark haired witch shook her head. "Not really. Quite a story." She looked up at Harry and smiled. "Well done."

"Thanks. But luck as much as anything."

"Not really," said Kingsley. "Keeping a cool head and not panicking - that's what saved you. Anyway, we'll go away and write all this up. Thanks, Harry."

It was good to get up from the chair and stretch.

"Tea, Harry?" asked Mr Weasley.

"Please."

"I know Arbuthnot's got a visitor at the moment, but he'll be free in a few minutes. He wants another word."

"Fair enough."

They sipped their tea in silence, until Mr Weasley announced: "Ah, he's free now." Harry had no idea how Mr Weasley had worked that one out, but he watched him go to the door, tap, and put his head round. "We've finished, Minister."

"Good. Wheel him in."

Once again Harry was disconcerted by the way Arbuthnot rose from his seat, stretched over the desk to shake hands and wave him to a seat.

"Well, we've got most things sorted now. You certainly did create a stir at Gringott's. And finding that there were some of You Know Who's followers in their midst gave them a shock. The Goblin Council's meeting at the moment."

"How do you think it'll go?"

"To be honest, no idea."

"How do you want it to go?" asked Harry boldly.

Arbuthnot looked at him sharply. "Believe me, Harry, I've no great plan or grand design. We play this as it comes. And, as I say, you can believe me on that. I may be devious but I'm truthful."

Harry blinked. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's alright. I know my own reputation. But this one's too big and too delicate to be laying plans."

"But how would you like it to end up?"

This time the look was shrewder, more assessing. "I think," Arbuthnot said slowly, "and this must be entirely between the three of us, that I would like to see full equality between wizards and goblins. They won't give up their Council and we won't give up the Wizengamot. I can't see the two communities mixing much. But I would like to get rid of a lot of the atavistic fears of many in the wizarding community. And you can only do that by openness."

Harry blinked again. "I think I'd go along with that."

"Good." Arbuthnot hesitated. "I've something to ask you, Harry. Not exactly a favour, but it'll be something you won't enjoy doing. I won't either, come to that, but we ought to do it. I'd like to hold a press conference this afternoon with you and me there. There'll be guidelines laid down - you won't have to answer any personal questions. No obligation to answer a question if you don't want to. But it'll mean that you can give them your version of events - which will prevent a good deal of speculation."

A press conference? That was the very last thing Harry wanted. He could see Arbuthnot looking at him. He shot a sideways glance at Mr Weasley, who looked back with a completely neutral expression.

"I don't want to," he said, and he could feel their disappointment. "But I'll do it."

"You will?" asked Arbuthnot. Harry nodded. Arbuthnot the bureaucrat swung into action. "Arthur, could you set the wheels in motion? Organise the hall? Get everyone there?" Mr Weasley nodded, and got up. "There'll be quite a lot of foreign press there too - Voldemort is big news anywhere. As I said, the ground rules will be clear, and if anyone oversteps them then they'll be out. No question of that. If you've had enough, let me know. And you're under no obligation to answer questions you don't want to. Is that okay?"

"That sounds fine."

"Good. I've arranged it for three o'clock. Gives them time to get there and time to report back." Harry nodded. "Best if we can meet in Arthur's office around quarter to." Harry nodded again. "I'll let you have some time to get ready. You can't Apparate from here, I'm afraid - you'll have to go next door."

"That's fine."

As Harry stood up, Arbuthnot said: "Thank you for this."

Harry smiled. "It'll be nice to go on the record properly."

Back in Grimmauld Place, he went down to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. Not too much - he was too nervous for that. Dobby, of course, beat him to it as he made for the cupboards.

"A light lunch," he said firmly to the elf.

"As Harry Potter wishes."

Dobby produced a truly excellent omelette. As he ate it, Dobby suddenly burst out: "Is it true you triumphed over the Dark Lord again?"

"No, Dobby. But he did lay a trap for me, and I did manage to get away."

"Ah. We elves do not want He Who Must Not Be Named back once more."

"Neither do I, Dobby," said Harry, pushing his plate away. "Neither do I."

"Harry Potter must defeat the Dark Lord!" Dobby insisted.

"I know that. But how I'm going to do it I've not the faintest idea. Not at the moment, certainly. Anyway, thanks for the omelette. It was really good."

The elf bowed again. "It was a pleasure to serve Harry Potter," he said formally.

Upstairs, Harry showered, then picked out the most formal robes he could find. There'd no doubt be lots of photographers. He noticed something on the bedside table, smiled, picked it up, and turned to page 236.

"PORTKEYS.

"Making Portkeys except by express Ministry permission is strictly forbidden. If you attempt to make a Portkey you will almost certainly be detected, and, depending on the circumstances, the penalties can be quite severe," the chapter began. Harry smiled and closed the book.

Quarter to three: Mr Weasley's office. It was empty when he arrived, but a moment or two later, Mr Weasley and Arbuthnot came through.

"We're ready to roll," said Arbuthnot, and Harry had to smile at the usage. "They're all been briefed: anything too intrusive, and they're out. This one's strictly on our terms."

"Okay."

Mr Weasley led the way down the corridors. Harry could hear the noise and hubbub even before they went in. Arbuthnot turned and smiled at him. "I'm going to leave the talking to you. Tell it just as it happened." Harry gulped, nodded.

As they entered the big conference room, Harry was brought to a halt by the flashes of the many cameras. Mr Weasley took his elbow and murmured: "Keep moving."

The room seemed packed with jostling reporters. Harry followed Arbuthnot up onto the podium. It was some time before the room began to subside. Finally Arbuthnot was able to begin.

"Thank you all for coming here today. I won't attempt to pre-empt Mr Potter's story: he can tell that in his own way. I would ask the photographers not to use their flash while he is talking, however. You can get more pictures at the end.

"Mr Potter has kindly agreed to take us through the events of yesterday. I would ask that there be no interruptions until he is finished. Only then will he answer questions, and he will only answer questions relating to those events - so don't try asking him personal questions. He won't answer you."

Arbuthnot turned. "Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath and stood up. There seemed to be a sea of faces before him, all turned up to stare at him. He gulped. There was a glass of water in front of him on the lectern. He reached for it, took a sip, put the glass down, put his hands on the lectern, and began.

"On Sunday I received a note from Goblin Zakod asking me to meet him outside Gringotts," he began.

It took him about a quarter of an hour to go through the story. His audience was silent as he talked, although here and there something he had said provoked murmurs in the packed hall. Finally he stopped, took another sip of water, his throat dry and parched, and said: "Thank you."

There was an immediate uproar, with shouts, raised hands, and general pandemonium. Mr Weasley was on his feet, ignoring the shouted questions, until the room quietened.

"Madam," he said, pointing.

"Mary Watkins, Wizarding Weekly. Is He Who Must Not Be Named in league with the Dementors?"

"They are certainly working together - at least with some of them. I don't know how many. But he did say that their ranks had been considerably thinned, so it seems as though the hunt has been a success."

Mr Weasley pointed again. "Sir."

"Tom Ropley, American Wizard Daily. Is it true that you attended a Goblin Council Meeting?"

Tricky one this. There was an immediate buzz of interest from the audience, which he did his best to ignore. "When I was at Gringotts on a private visit, I was invited by Goblin Raknuk to meet the Council. They were interested in my experiences, and I talked to them for some time. I don't want to say any more at the present time about that."

But the answer produced uproar from the crowd of reporters and journalists.

"Do you trust the goblins?" came a shouted question.

Slowly the room became quiet again as they waited for his answer. Finally: "Yes, I do. I know a few goblins sided with Voldemort yesterday. But let us not forget how many wizards have become Death Eaters."

He caught a slight smile on Arbuthnot's face from the corner of his eye.

"You, sir," said Mr Weasley, pointing into the crowd.

"Jean Gergaud. Parisian Sorcier. How did you manage to escape from You Know Who if you could not Apparate away?"

"Ah, well, yes - well, you see, I made a Portkey from a scrap of parchment."

"A Portkey? But surely they do not teach you that at 'Ogwarts?"

"No, they don't - well, I read about it in a book."

"A book?" in a sceptical tone.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. That's right. Page 236, actually."

The questions went on and on. Finally Harry turned and gave a slightly despairing look to Arbuthnot, who immediately got to his feet.

"I think that after his ordeal yesterday, Mr Potter deserves our sympathy, and a rest. I think he has also given you enough material to fill your papers twice over. Now, if you'll excuse us ..."

The chaos began again, with flashbulbs completely blinding Harry, and questions being shouted from all over the room. Guards were holding back the press of reporters. Mr Weasley gripped his elbow again. "Come on," he said urgently.

Harry allowed himself to be steered from the hall. Outside, he leaned against the wall in the corridor, completely soaked with perspiration.

"You were brilliant, Harry," said Arbuthnot quietly. "We'll make a politician of you yet."

Harry looked across to him. "Thanks," he said weakly. "Is that a compliment?"

Arbuthnot smiled in return.

Mr Weasley took his elbow again. "Come on."

Harry let Mr Weasley escort him back to Arbuthnot's office, where a cup of tea was placed in his hand. Finally he looked across to the other two: "How did I do in there?"

"When I said brilliant, I meant it, Harry," said Arbuthnot quietly. "That's why I let it ride for so long."

Harry nodded, sipping his tea, then he put the cup down. He had had enough. Now he wanted only to be left by himself again.

"I'll leave you to get on with your work, if you don't mind." he told the two adults. "I've had enough for one day."

"Ron's at home, if you want to visit," said Mr Weasley.

Harry considered this. "No, thanks," he said finally. "I think I want to be on my own for the moment."

Mr Weasley nodded. "Fair enough."

Next morning he made his last visit of the holidays to the Ministry. He chose one of the Apparation points deeper into the Ministry, and made his way from there to Mr Weasley's office.

"Harry! Good to see you again!"

Harry smiled, touched by the genuine warmth of the greeting. "How are things?"

"Well. Very well. Come and look at this lot."

Mr Weasley led Harry across to a side table heaped with papers. Not only the Prophet, but papers from all over the world; papers in languages which Harry couldn't read, papers in languages which Harry didn't even know existed. They had two things in common: pictures of Harry, and headlines in which the words 'Harry Potter' figured prominently.

"A world wide celebrity now."

Harry smiled weakly. It was all a bit disconcerting. There were photographs of him clutching the lectern as he talked, pictures of him blinking in the flashes of the cameras, pictures of him waving a hand as he answered a question. It was made all the worse since half the time he didn't recognise the person in the pictures as himself.

He'd already seen the Prophet that morning: 'POTTER ESCAPES YOU KNOW WHO AGAIN'.

He dropped the papers back down.

"Not interested?" asked Mr Weasley.

He shrugged. "I know the story better than they do. The only interesting thing would be the spin they put on it."

"Very positive, on the whole. You did the right thing yesterday, ordeal though it must have been. People need to know the truth - and not half the story by rumour and gossip."

"You're right, I suppose."

"His Nibs is free if you want a quick word."

Harry hesitated, then: "Okay."

Arbuthnot had a big heap of files on the desk in front of him: he looked up wearily as the two of them came in, and pushed the file he was reading to one side.

"That's the trouble with these jamborees: the paperwork still piles up in the meantime. Sit down." He put his quill down and gave Harry his attention. "Most film stars would die for the publicity you got yesterday."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a film star."

"True."

"Sorry - that sounded ungracious."

Arbuthnot smiled. "Not at all. It's just that people like me automatically think that getting their picture in the papers is an excellent thing. And there I was, playing second fiddle to you."

Harry smiled faintly. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising."

"My cue to say sorry again? No, I've come to say thank you."

"For?"

"Giving me all these opportunities this summer."

"And putting your life at risk yet again."

"Something I don't seem to be able to avoid. And it would have probably happened in any case. Anyway, term starts again in a few days."

"And you've come to say you've had enough for the time being."

Again Harry was startled by Arbuthnot's ability to read between the lines. "Yeah. I think even a double Potions with Snape might be a rest cure after this."

"An awful lot's happened this summer, Harry. Much of it thanks to you. The least you deserve to do is to beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch."

"Maybe we'll do that."

"Oh, by the way, talking of Quidditch ..." Arbuthnot reached down into the piles of paper. "Charles sent this." He handed a card to Harry.

It was a life membership for the Tigholt Tigers, with FREE ADMISSION written across the card.

"My son has much neater writing than me," said Arbuthnot sadly. "But he thought you'd like it."

Harry stared at the card. For some reason it meant much more to him than his picture in all the papers. "Say thank you to him for me, will you?"

"I'll do that. Have a good term, Harry."

"Thanks." He stood up and looked to Mr Weasley, who smiled back. "Thanks to both of you. Now I'd better go and finish my last Potions essay."