The Last Days at Hogwarts

Harry had been back in Grimmauld Place for only a day when he received an owl from Ollivander.

'Dear Mr Potter,

'It is perhaps time that that we took your wandwork in hand. Would Wednesday evening at seven o'clock be convenient?'

Harry scribbled a note of acceptance and sent it back by return. A chance of a lesson from a wandmaker such as Ollivander - not something to be missed. The following Wednesday evening found him and Dean in an upstairs room at Ollivander's premises in Diagon Alley. Harry gazed around him with curiosity: the walls were covered in small glass cases of one sort and another - but all they contained were wands.

He heard Ollivander behind him. "Not just wands, Mr Potter. Each one has a history to it. Sometimes good, sometimes not." Harry turned. Ollivander was looking at Dean. "One day that wand you took from Voldemort will be there." He turned to Harry. "Together with the two pieces of his former wand. Not yet - I appreciate you would like to keep them as souvenirs. But one day ...?"

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"But we at Ollivander's are prepared to wait. There is no hurry. Anyway, to business. Sit down, both of you."

There were some reasonable comfortable chairs: Dean and Harry sat down, and then Ollivander a moment or two later. He surveyed the two youngsters.

"At the guild meeting, Madam Esebeck did comment on how poorly wand skills were taught at British schools, and perhaps it is that which we should address first. The wand is an essential tool for any wizard - it directs their magical flow, and without an adequate wand, no wizard can reach their full potential. One of the wand maker's skills lies in fitting the wand to the wizard. You have both been using those wands for some years now, and should have grown into them fully. Now we must ensure that you are using them to their full potential."

Harry soon learnt how inadequate his own wand skills were. Ollivander encouraged them to try out the spells that they each found the most difficult, and then began analysing how the better use of their wands could improve their performance.

"You must make the wand part of yourself. Concentrate on its very heart, and use its power to direct the magic."

It could be curiously frustrating at times, trying to direct and channel their magic through their wands more effectively.

"Let us take a different approach now, and try the some of the simplest of charms. Harry - what is one of the first you learned?"

He cast his mind back, then said with a slight grin: "Wingardium leviosa."

The significance of this was lost on the other two.

"Very well. Now, you were no doubt taught to swish and flick. Correct?" Harry nodded, still secretly amused. "As beginners, you had to. As competent wizards, you do not. But people still do it that way because that was the way they were taught.

"Why am I emphasising this? Because if you put as much effort into easy charms as into the more difficult ones, then you do not have the control you might have. A small flick for a small charm, then a larger one for a larger charm. That way the larger flicks become more effective, and the more difficult charms become easier to accomplish.

"So, let us take this slip of parchment, and you are to try to levitate it using the merest tremble of your wand. If you can do that, then you can adjust your wand use to the strength of the charm. Do you see what I mean?"

Harry nodded, and for the next twenty minutes he and Dean worked at lifting the parchment with smaller and smaller movements of their wands, until the slightest tremor would bring it floating from the floor.

"Excellent," cried Ollivander. "If you can use sufficient self discipline to learn to do this all the time, then you will find much easier to master more complicated wand work by simply matching the movement to the strength of the charm."

"But if you are to use the technique properly, it does require constant awareness. Every time you use your wand, use it in such a way that its power is matched against the power of the spell you are casting." Harry nodded. "Right then, I will leave you go away and practice."

Harry stood up. "Thanks for all of this. And thanks for your time."

The old wizard bowed his head. "The pleasure is all mine. To see wands used correctly is a delight. I shall see you in the morning, Dean?"

The other boy nodded. "Yeah. And thanks for this." He smiled at Harry then said: "I'd better be getting back. See you."

"See you, Dean."

And with that, Harry too Apparated back home.

Where, waiting for him, he found a note. He opened the envelope and scanned it.

'My place tomorrow. Come alone.

'Mad-Eye.'

Harry could hardly help laughing, but he knew how seriously the old Auror took security. Instead he gave a slight smile and tucked the letter back into the envelope. No use speculating as to what Mad-Eye had in mind - he'd just have to wait until the next day.

It was cold enough to wrap up in a thick coat, and the short walk from where he had Apparated wasn't really enough to warm him. He knocked on Moody's door and waited to be let in, shivering in the cold. Eventually the locks were unlocked and bolts unbolted, and the door swung open.

"Come on in," came the gruff voice. He saw Moody's magical eye swivelling round, scanning the road behind him. Harry stepped inside, and the old man closed the door.

"How are you?"

"Fine," said Harry.

Mad-Eye took his coat and hung it on the newel post at the bottom of the staircase.

"Through here."

Harry followed him into the kitchen. Sitting at the table was a wizard who looked even more ancient than Mad-Eye - if that were possible - but who stood up on Harry's entrance.

"Harry, this is Oliver Tindall."

Tindall smiled and held out a hand. "Mr Potter," he said softly.

"Harry, please," he said, taking the old man's hand.

"In which case, I shall insist on Oliver."

"Tindall's an old friend of mine," said Mad-Eye. "I've dragged him out of a well deserved retirement."

"But in a good cause," said Tindall.

Harry was slightly wary - an old friend of Moody's ... well, that could be interesting.

But Tindall must have seen the expression on his face, and smiled. "Nothing sinister, Harry."

"In here, or the front room?" Mad-Eye asked.

"Oh, here, I think - that'll do for us."

Mad-Eye nodded and said: "I'll leave you to it then."

With a backward glance he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Tindall turned back to Harry. "Please, sit down here."

He indicated a chair across the table from his own.

Harry sat down and studied the old man. His hair was completely white, although still quite bushy. Two startlingly blue eyes looked at him from a very wrinkled face. It was a friendly face, however, and somehow Harry knew he could trust this man.

"Now, Harry, Alastor has been saying that you might need a little help with Occlumency."

Harry was startled. "Well, yes, he did say something."

Tindall nodded. "One of my specialities in days gone by. I gather you've already been having some lessons, but they weren't a great success."

Harry remembered those tussles with Snape, and smiled wryly. "You might say that."

"And that you have some connection to Voldemort?"

Harry was slightly surprised at the casual reference: even now, many wizards refused to use that name.

"That's right. Partly through this." He reached up and touched his scar. "And - well, you've read the stories of how he made his come back."

"Yes, indeed. And for some time there was actually a direct connection to his mind?"

"Yeah. I don't think he realised it to begin with - that I was picking up his thoughts and feelings - but then he used it to trick me."

And Harry remembered that day at the Ministry. Sirius, and what had happened to him. Then he realised Tindall was looking at him with concern.

"It's okay," said Harry quietly. "Just remembering things I'd rather forget."

"We all have things like that," said Tindall gently. "It does not do to forget them entirely, and neither does it do to dwell on them too much."

"I know. It's finding the balance which can be tricky at times."

"Of course." Then Tindall's voice became brisker. "Now, Harry, with your permission, I would like to try one or two things. Can you relax your mind as much as you can?"

"Of course."

Harry concentrated on the old man's vivid blue eyes, and then began to feel a prickling at the corners of his mind. The prickling feeling eased after a minute or so, and the old man nodded.

"You can be taught," he said.

"What did you do?"

"Just felt round for possible defences. You see, if you are to exclude people from your mind, you have to learn how to erect barriers, defences. At a crude level, they can simply serve to close your mind off. At a more sophisticated level, you can close your mind so that others are not even aware of it - which, of course, is far more desirable." Harry nodded. "The first thing is to be aware that your mind is being probed. I was as gentle as I possibly could be, yet you felt my presence, didn't you?" Harry nodded again. "That shows you have a certain sensitivity. This is both good and bad. Good, because you are aware. Bad, because being more sensitive, you have to work harder.

"But before we get too deep, let us try some exercises. Now then ..."

Harry had to concentrate as he had never concentrated before. The sheer persistence of the man was unnerving - never for a moment could he afford to lower his guard. How long this lasted for Harry had no idea, but eventually Tindall leaned back in his seat and smiled.

"Very interesting. Were you taught that idea of clouding your mind?"

"No," said Harry. "It just seemed a good idea."

"And indeed it was. Such a technique would never stand up against a direct assault by the likes of Voldemort, but it is excellent at times when you need to be cautious. It is also an excellent defence against being caught unawares by an Imperius curse. The other person can't get a handle on your mind, so to speak.

"Now we need to work on erecting stronger barriers. There are two sides to this: learning how to do it, and learning how to disguise the fact you are doing it. Do you follow?" Harry nodded. "Then this is how ...."

For another hour or so Harry began to learn how to build walls around his mind, then how to camouflage those walls.

Eventually Tindall leaned back. "We'll take a break there. I think we're both a bit tired. Excuse me for a moment."

He got up from the table and left the room. Mad-Eye came in a few moments later.

"All right?" he asked gruffly.

"Yeah. Fine."

"Any good?"

"I'll say. He certainly knows his stuff. And he can teach it too."

"He ought to. He's been doing it for long enough."

"Doesn't necessarily follow."

"True."

Tindall came back. "What's that?" he asked.

"Said you'd been doing this for a long time."

"Indeed. In fact, I do remember a certain young Auror in training."

Harry blinked. Tindall remembered Mad-Eye in training? He must be even older than Harry thought.

"Hmm. Never was any good at that, was I?"

"True, true," said Tindall, sitting down again. "But you had strengths enough in other ways."

Moody made his way over to the stove. "Got something here for lunch," he muttered.

"From what you've fed me so far, I must say your cooking's improved," said Tindall.

"Comes of living on your own," said Mad-Eye. "Often I don't bother, but with company - well, that's an excuse to do a proper job."

He was ladling out what seemed to be an extremely good lunch - if the smell was anything to go by, and Harry remembered how good Mad-Eye's cooking could be. The three of them tucked in gratefully. Finally Harry pushed his plate away, refusing any further helpings.

"It really was good," he assured Mad-Eye.

"Does he have talent?" Mad-Eye asked Tindall.

"Oh, yes indeed. Very promising. Not that we've time to give him a proper training, but still, he's come on well even in this short time."

"Your lessons are ... well, a bit different from the ones I've had up to now."

"Oh? You had Professor Snape before, didn't you say? How did he go about it?"

Harry began describing his lessons with Snape, but soon stopped at the expression on Tindall's face.

"What? He just launched into your mind - just like that?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry uncertainly.

"Without any warning or training?"

"Not really."

Tindall looked at him carefully. "Are you and Professor Snape on good terms?"

"Er - not really."

"What is it, Oliver?" Mad-Eye asked.

Tindall looked down at his plate, then: "You can do it that way. It's very much a make or break method. And one you can use if you're in a hurry. But, well, it's certainly not the recommended way."

"Snape!" said Mad-Eye. "Never did care for him! Greasy little bastard."

Although Harry privately agreed, he thought it more politic not to say so. Tindall looked a little embarrassed. Then something else occurred to Harry.

"Was that why - well, was that why Voldemort could put those false ideas into my head? Because I hadn't learnt how to close my mind properly?"

Tindall looked at him carefully. "I think the connection between you and Voldemort is unique. I wouldn't like to speculate as to how he fed you that information."

"Oh."

"Well," Tindall went on, "I think we can do some more today, if you feel up to it?"

"Sure."

"In which case," said Mad-Eye, "I'll leave you to it again."

He stumped out of the room.

Tindall took his plate to the sink, and Harry followed with Mad-Eye's and his own.

"Right," said Tindall, "what we need to do now is to teach you how to erect barriers to your mind - barriers which are invisible. You cloud, or cloak, your mind very effectively: if you do that, you should be safe against the Imperius - although Alastor tells me you can usually shake it off anyway. Is that right?" Harry nodded. "But Voldemort is a different matter. He understands the use of force. He does not use it in a crude way, but knows when and how to use it. If he senses you are clouding your mind like that, he will blast straight through it. He has had many years in which to perfect the art of bending others to his will. Unless the defences of your mind are extremely robust, he will do that to you too." Harry nodded again.

"Then we shall start again. Concentrate on building up those barriers."

After another hour's patient work, Tindall leaned back and stretched.

"Hard work, isn't it? Now, Harry, what I am going to do now is try to break through those defences of yours. I am, I'm afraid, going to mount a fairly serious assault on your mind. Do you think you're ready for that?"

Harry smiled. "I doubt it, but let's try anyway."

"Right then. Prepare yourself."

Remembering all he'd been taught, Harry braced himself, and proceeded to build a shield around his consciousness. He was aware now only of the sharp bright eyes staring at his. Then came a fierce jolt, a jab at his mind, jabbing at all his carefully erected defences. He could feel them crumbling here and there, and strengthened them as best he could, but now the assaults were coming thick and fast, and he knew that it was only a matter of time now, but pride demanded that he hold out as long as possible, until the sudden final jolt broke through and memories started unwinding ... not good memories either - a woman's screams ... "No, not Harry," ... then with a sudden jerk he was back at the table. Tindall was looking at him white faced.

"I'm sorry," Tindall said quietly. "That was probably not a memory you wanted to share."

"My mum," said Harry shakily. "Just before ..."

"I thought it might be something like that. Again, I apologise."

Harry swallowed the sick feeling in his mouth. "It's not your fault. I knew what I was letting myself in for."

"Even so ..." Tindall sighed. "Anyway, believe it or not, that was remarkably impressive. You held out for far longer than I expected. I could feel your defences crumbling, but it took a lot of hard work to make the breakthrough."

Harry nodded. "Thanks." He was still numb, both from the mental effort and from the sudden conjuring up of memories better left buried.

"It strikes me," Tindall went on, "that you are a very powerful but intuitive wizard. Would I be right in thinking that often you get really complicated things right first time, yet often struggle with simple ones?"

Harry blinked, thinking about it. "Well, yes, that's right. One or two other people have said things like that. I mean, I've got a friend - she goes through all the books and learns what to do, and she's really good - but she has to study it first. Me - I just do it." He grinned. "I don't study as much as I should do."

"Maybe not. But as I say, you do have this remarkable intuitive grasp. That's what makes teaching you so straightforward. Now, if you can also spend some time learning the why as well as the how, then you could be one of the most powerful wizards of your generation."

"I have been studying," Harry said slowly, "but not necessarily school stuff. I've read a lot of books on defence, for example, and some Dark Arts stuff too. Not that I want to be a Dark Wizard, but because I want to know what they do, and how I can fight back, so to speak."

"I can see that, and I don't think you are the sort to be tempted to go that way. It is a danger, you know, because a lot of Dark Magic is very powerful. Often wizards end up going down that road, not because they are inherently evil themselves, but because of the power they perceive in the Dark Arts."

Harry suddenly smiled. "You do sound very much like Professor Dumbledore."

"Not altogether surprising. What do you think taught him Occlumency?"

For once Harry was speechless. Tindall had taught Dumbledore?

Tindall laughed at the sight of Harry's face. "Even Dumbledore was a student once. And I am very ancient, as you must know."

"I know where he gets it from now."

"Oh, Dumbledore didn't need to learn to learn that from me. He had a very clear mind even as a young boy. Very different from yours. You have strengths in other directions. Between you, you'd be a formidable team."

"Really?" His interest quickened.

"Oh, yes. You come at things from different angles. The techniques I was using with you this afternoon were not those I used with him."

A thought occurred to Harry. "Did you ever teach Tom Riddle."

The old man closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "I am afraid I did. For one afternoon only."

"Oh? Why was that?"

"I broke into his mind inadvertently fairly early on. He too was very powerful, and I think I caught him unawares, otherwise it would have been quite a struggle. Being in his mind was not a pleasant experience."

Tindall's expression was grim. Harry wanted to ask more, but thought he'd better not.

But Tindall went on: "Even then, even when he was a boy of fifteen, I could feel two things over and above all: hate and ambition. And on the surface he was so polite, so smooth. A façade that took in almost everyone except Dumbledore."

"But there wasn't a lot Dumbledore could do, presumably."

"Exactly. Riddle was widely admired, and became a model Head Boy. I'm sure a lot of people had reservations about him, but couldn't pin them down. And I'm sure a lot feared him. Not that he issued threats. He didn't need to. He had a way of looking at people."

"What happened - after he realised what you'd seen?"

"Frankly, I thought he was going to attack me there and then. Indeed, I reached for my wand. But Riddle's self control was remarkable. There was that flash of rage - well, more than a flash, to be honest - then he was all politeness again. But you could see it in his eyes. I remember sitting there thinking, what next? And I stood up and walked out. And took great care not to be in a room alone with him again."

Harry was startled. "As bad as that?"

"Oh, yes. After I'd seen what was in his mind, I believed him capable of anything. I talked to Dumbledore about him, and Dumbledore agreed with me wholeheartedly. But there were too many who were too impressed with him to take things any further. When Riddle left Hogwarts, Dumbledore and I did our best to keep tabs on him, but he soon dropped out of sight."

"I wish Dumbledore had suggested you in the first place," said Harry.

Tindall shrugged. "Having someone at Hogwarts was no doubt very useful. And I have been abroad for some years now. Alastor heard I was back for a while, and so ..."

"Well, I'm glad you're back," said Harry. "That was really useful."

"We've made a good start, but there's a lot more you need to do," warned Tindall. "I take it you can spare more time now you're on holiday?"

"Whenever you like. You can owl me."

"I'm staying with Alastor for a few days, but I'll be in the country for at least a month. Where are you living?"

"Grimmauld Place." Seeing Tindall's blank expression, he went on: "It used to be the Blacks' house."

"The Blacks?" said Tindall in slight alarm.

"Sirius was the last Black, and he died in the Ministry - nearly two years ago." Was it as long as that? "He left it to me in his will."

"Sirius Black - ah, yes, he was a friend of your father."

"That's right. Mad-Eye will tell you how to get there."

"In which case, I'll owl you in a day or so."

"Sounds good to me. And thanks for giving up your time."

"At my age, time is all you have left. But it's in a good cause."

This was turning out to be an interesting holiday, thought Harry, as he walked towards the small copse of trees. Meeting someone who'd taught both Dumbledore and Voldemort! As well as the wand tuition from Ollivander. Over the past few days he'd been consciously making all his wand movements as small as possible, and had been surprised how much easier the more elaborate charms or spells had become. The trick, as Ollivander had pointed out, was in adjusting the wand movement to the difficulty of the spell. And he was surprised that such a basic point wasn't taught to them at Hogwarts. Well, that was something else for Dean to demonstrate to the Defence Group next term.

He stepped behind the trees and quietly vanished.

The holiday wasn't to be all work, though. Ron had decided to give a party at the Burrow.

'Not really a party,' he'd said in his note. 'Some people round for the evening. You and Susan, of course. Hermione has this idea for what she calls a barbeque. Next Wednesday?'

'Sounds good to me,' he'd replied.

Barbeque, he thought? In England, in April? Well, Hermione was good at Warming Charms.

But Wednesday was surprisingly warm in London, given the time of year. Even so, before he set off he got a small bag and, to be on the safe side, stuffed it full of jumpers and fleeces. He looked at his watch, then Apparated to the Weasley garden.

He saw Ron a little way away, his back to him, and smoke billowing up in front of him.

He walked over. "Hi."

Ron turned, saw who it was, smiled, then looked at his watch. "Trust you to be on time."

"Sorry. It's just that I hate being late."

"Remember our first year? And we were late for McGonagall's lesson?"

"Don't remind me. I don't think we got off to a very good start."

"Maybe not. And the car."

"Well, they still made you a prefect."

Ron went a little red. "Well, even Dumbledore makes mistakes sometimes."

"That was no mistake. You've done well."

Ron turned and looked at him. "Do you think so? Really?"

"Yeah. I do." And then, to change the subject, he nodded towards the smoke. "What's this?"

"Hermione sent me a long list of instructions." Ron looked at him and they both smiled. "What a surprise, eh? Anyway, what do you think?"

Ron had constructed a square of thick logs, and inside were more logs and charcoal burning away. On the top was a metal grid.

"Looks impressive."

"What are you supposed to do?"

"Put stuff on the grid to cook."

"In the flames?"

"It should have burnt down to embers by then."

"Suppose so. And she's given me this list of stuff - sausages, lamb chops, steak."

"Right. Hope no one's a vegetarian."

Ron looked worried for a moment. "None of us - Olive? No, I saw her wolfing sausage rolls at Neville's. Luna?"

"She's coming?" Harry was surprised.

"Ginny invited her."

"Oh, right. I dunno, though - I think she's got her eye on you."

"What?" half horrified. Harry nodded. "I mean," Ron went on, "she's nice enough, but, well ..."

"A bit out of it?"

"Something like that."

"Well, that's that settled. Attraction of opposites."

Ron gave him a suspicious look. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you're, shall we say, the down to earth type, and she's got her head in the clouds."

"What do you mean - down to earth type?"

Harry looked at him guilelessly. "Plenty of common sense, that sort of thing."

"Oh," somewhat mollified.

But whatever else they might have said had to be left: Dean and Olive were strolling from the house.

"Looks impressive," said Dean as he drew closer.

"Hope I've got it right," Ron told him.

"Don't ask me," said Olive. "We don't have barbeques where I live. A few burned out cars, maybe." Harry smiled. "Nice to get the country air though." As she spoke, some of the smoke came wafting her way, and she stepped back, coughing. "Um, maybe not."

Harry looked at the fire and concentrated. The smoke re-arranged itself into a vertical column.

"Did you do that?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Think so."

"How?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. That's the way I wanted it, so ..."

Ron gave him an odd sideways look. "What spell did you use?"

"Dunno," Harry said again. "That's - well, that's how I wanted it."

Ron shook his head. "So you just - did it?"

"I reckon."

"Getting more like Dumbledore each day," he muttered. He turned to Olive: "You a vegetarian?"

She blinked at the unexpected question. "No. Why?"

"Sausages, lamb chops, steak."

"Sounds good to me," she said appreciatively.

"Where is everyone?" Dean asked.

"Dad's at the office, Mum's out somewhere, and Ginny's at Luna's."

"Oh? They friends? Luna and Ginny, that is."

"Seems like it."

Olive was looking round. "No chairs, then?"

"Oh. Sorry."

Ron raised his wand and summoned some chairs from the house. Harry watched his movements with a critical eye.

"You've got another pupil here, Dean."

"What do you mean?"

"That wand action."

"Oh, yeah. We'll work on it."

Ron was looking at them both suspiciously, but Olive set her chair down by the fire, and the others joined her.

He heard the sound of someone Apparating nearby and turned: Susan had appeared, and was strolling towards them, looking very summery in her dress.

He smiled. "Hi."

"Hi." She looked around at the preparations. "This looks fun."

"I hope so."

Ron passed her a butterbeer, and she sank into a chair. Harry sat down next to her, and they watched as Ron carried on sorting things out.

The sun was near the horizon now. It was getting a little cool with the clear sky, but the fire kept them warm, and it was too early in the year for insects. Hermione soon joined them, then Neville. As the sun went down, Mr Weasley appeared with Ginny and Luna.

"Your mother's going to be late back, and since you're all here, you'd better start."

"What about you, Dad? Going to join us?"

But Mr Weasley shook his head. "Thanks all the same. Too much to do."

"Hard day at the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"Parchment after parchment. Still, that's the way it goes. Enjoy yourselves."

Ron followed his father back to the house, then came back with a table very carefully balanced at wandpoint. It was getting dark now, and Ron took care not to trip. Finally he put the table down, and with another flick of his wand, sent a squadron of sausages flying towards the grill over the fire.

"You've been practicing that," said Ginny.

"No, just been thinking it out in advance."

"Not like you, Ron."

"You think not, little sis?"

Before this could develop into a family argument, Luna said: "Ronald can be very thoughtful at times."

Harry caught Ron's eye and winked.

"Sometimes," said Ron. "And this is one of them."

With another flick of his wand, the sausages all rolled over. Ron began passing out plates and forks. Hermione opened some more butterbeers and passed them round.

"Ah, what a change to waited on hand and foot," said Olive lazily.

"You mean I don't look after you?" said Dean with mock indignation.

"Oh, yeah, but boys are used to having things done for them."

"Depends on the household," said Harry.

"Not fair - you've got those wotsits - house elves."

"True," Harry admitted.

He caught Susan's eye, and she gave him a slight smile: he felt himself going red as he remembered that evening after Neville's party, when they had been interrupted by Dobby ...

"How's the studying going?" Hermione asked Olive.

"Not bad. Exams the same time as yours."

"Exams?" queried Luna.

"Muggle exams."

"Sausages are ready," said Ron. "Help yourselves."

"And how ..." began Olive, when cries of 'Accio' answered her question.

"What are you going to do with your Muggle exams?" Neville asked, a few sausages later.

"Dunno yet. University, if I'm good enough. Anything's better than the sort of job you can get living round our place. What about you?"

"Herbology."

"What's that?"

"Magical plants."

"You mean plants can do magic? Do they have wands too?"

"Not quite. But they have all sorts of uses in potions and so on."

"Right," said Olive, drawing out the syllable. "I think we'll leave things there."

"Hey, Ron, you didn't invite Millicent Bulstrode."

Ron's conversion to the idea that not all Slytherins were inherently evil still provoked the odd joke.

"I thought about it," said Ron mock seriously, "but then, I thought barbeques probably weren't her thing."

"And the company would probably put her off," added Hermione.

"The company?" asked Olive.

"My parents are Muggles."

"So?"

"So to people like Millicent Bulstrode, I'm not a proper witch."

"And what about people like me then?"

"You'd probably be an interesting curiosity."

"She's that alright," said Dean.

Olive smacked his knee. "She's not one of those sorts of people - like Theo?"

"Theo Nott? Yes and no. She has the same sort of ideas about Muggles and half breeds and so on, but I don't think she'd go as far as actually wanting to murder them."

"You do know some nice people."

"Well," said Dean, "there're enough Muggles out there who wouldn't want anything to do with you cos you're black."

"I suppose."

"Let's talk about something else," said Luna.

"Quite right," said Ron. "The chops are ready."

Which was enough to keep them quiet for the next five minutes.

It was quite dark now, but the glowing embers of the fire kept them warm despite the night chill. Hermione and Ginny were quietly talking away, whilst Luna and Neville seemed to be having a rather more animated conversation - but he wasn't prepared to find out what it was about. Instead, he relaxed in his chair, his hand entwined with Susan's. Then Harry heard someone coming out of the house and heading their way.

"You coping all right?"

It was Mrs Weasley.

"Yes, thanks, Mum. Fancy a chop?"

"You know, I could at that. Sorting out Granny took longer than I thought. All right if I join you?"

"Sure."

Harry stood up to offer her a chair, but she waved him down again and summoned one from the house.

"Ah," she said, as Ron passed her a plate. "I can just do with this."

"Been busy?" Harry asked.

"This and that. Not much really, but it all took time. Your father's still working away, so I'm probably better off out here."

"I like this idea of a barbeque," said Ron. "Another one for the Muggles."

"Yeah," said Olive, "but you still use magic to keep the smoke out of your eyes."

"Best of both worlds," Dean told her.

"Suppose so." She yawned. "Come on, you've got to be up early in the morning."

"Okay."

Dean and Olive stood up, followed by the others.

"Thanks for inviting me," said Neville to Ron and Mrs Weasley.

Luna smiled at Ron. "And thanks from me."

"No problem," Ron told her.

"I suppose you all want to use the fireplace," Mrs Weasley said, but only Luna, Dean and Olive took her up on her invitation.

Harry looked at Susan, wondering whether to invite her back to Grimmauld Place, but the memory of what had happened the last time was still vivid in his memory. And somehow an evening like this didn't carry the same aura of romance. He saw the same feelings mirrored in her eyes.

"I'll head off home," she said softly, and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Okay," said Harry, and stepped back a pace as she disappeared.

"Stay the night?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated - he was going to see Tindall tomorrow. "Better not," he said eventually. "Essays to finish," he prevaricated.

"I know what you mean. Okay, see you in a day or two."

"Yeah. Thanks, Mrs Weasley."

"Any time, Harry."

The next day's visit to Mad-Eye's would be the last one of the holidays - the summer term, with its NEWT exams, was approaching fast now.

He found that by now he could cloud his mind almost instinctively, and he'd also become much more sensitive to any attempt to probe it.

"Hm," said Tindall, "even if you can shake off the Imperius curse, I don't think anyone is going to be able to get a handle on your mind in the first place."

Moody had been enlisted: he had been trying hard to put him under the curse, but Harry had closed his mind to him so effectively that the Old Auror had had no success.

"Not that I'm as good as him," Moody said, referring obliquely to Voldemort, "but even so, the average Death Eater is going to have no chance with you."

"You've had no more connection to Riddle recently?" Tindall asked.

Harry shook his head.

"None at all. It was weird at first, not getting the twinges like I used to, but I think I prefer things this way."

"Not altogether surprising."

"There's no chance he's getting to me without me knowing it?"

Tindall shook his head. "Highly unlikely. I've detected nothing, and neither have you. If you can't feel him after all this, then I reckon you're fairly secure."

"Any news of him?" Harry asked Mad-Eye.

"None," said Moody, shaking his head. "Wherever he is, he's lying very low. Mind you, we've rounded up most of his support by now, which helps."

"No giants? No Dementors?"

"Not as far as we can see. The Dementors have been scared off. The Aurors are still going after any reports, and they've had the sense to keep their heads down."

Harry nodded. "Just Tom Riddle, then."

"That's right," said Tindall. "And don't forget - one of his main weapons is fear. People see him, and assume he's invincible - that they've no chance. But he'll come up against his match one day." He smiled at Harry.

"Maybe," said Harry, aware of what they were not - the prophecy. But what exactly did that mean? Prophecies were so frustratingly vague. "Oh, well, we'll see."

"Indeed," said Tindall. "But I think that I've done all I can with you for the moment. You have been a fast learner. Go home and relax for the rest of the holidays."

"What? With NEWTs coming up?" asked Harry with a rise of an eyebrow.

"Especially with NEWTs coming up. You need a breather."

"You could be right." He stood up. "Thank you both for all your help," he said rather formally.

The other two stood up in their turn. "It's been a pleasure," said Tindall, holding out a hand. "Teaching someone so responsive can be very rewarding."

"Thanks," said Harry, momentarily embarrassed.

"Look after yourself, Potter," said Moody gruffly.

"I will. I promise. Bye."