Harry Potter and the Flying Squad

Harry hadn't asked Dumbledore when Almyra would start her task. However, at the supper table he saw that she was missing. Thinking about the evening ahead, he turned to Ron. "Do you have plans for this evening?"

"Yes, indeed - to finish some stones better than you in a Go match."

"Well," grinned Harry, "just by accident, I had the same idea." Seeing Ron's expression, he added, "From my point of view, that is."

Hermione wasn't interested. She didn't mention whether she had work to do or some other company in mind, and Harry didn't ask.

In contrast, Cho was eager to join them. Without Almyra around, and knowing what Almyra would be doing at the same time, Cho had apparently dreaded the evening like Harry himself.

As there was no longer a reason to watch for incoming people in the hall, the suite seemed the natural place to play Go, and that was exactly where Harry had stored the board and stones the evening before. They decided to play three-game matches, each of them against the two others.

Cho won the first match. Although Harry had scored his first victory against her, it had been the smallest possible - one point. On the other hand, Cho had beaten Ron by three points, while Harry and Ron had finished with another draw.

Checking the time, they found themselves conflicted - it was too early for sleep, and they were still too excited from the match, but another match would take too long.

Cho had the solution. "We'll play Rapid Go," she said, "with twenty minutes per game - giving the players ten minutes each ... Exceeding the time means losing by three points."

"My chance," shouted Ron. "I'll be back in a minute with a chess clock."

The thing he came back with was a double clock with two buttons. Having made his move, a player would press his own button, to stop his own clock and start the opponent's clock. In the last two minutes of a player's time, the big hand would lift a small flag inside the clock: when this flag came down again, after the hand had moved through the two minutes, the time was over. The clock, intended for Rapid Chess, wouldn't mind ticking for Go instead.

The time pressure added a new thrill to the game, with unexpected effects toward their style and strategic quality.

Ron, as an experienced Rapid Chess player, was able to beat Harry by three points, making true what he had intended for the evening. However, in his second game against Cho, he was trapped by his own greed. Quickly in a better position, he saw a chance to defeat her big-time - on the scale of ten points. While his analysis was basically correct, the manoeuver turned out too complicated, and the flag in Ron's clock fell down before the game was over.

His game against Ron had been Harry's first lesson in Rapid Go. Watching Ron's mistake became the second one. Avoiding the pitfalls of Ron's game against Cho, Harry found her still suffering from the disaster she'd barely escaped, angry at herself, lacking her normal precision. Without any spectacular moves, he came out four points in advance, which made him match winner.

"I should have won that match," growled Ron. "What a stupid mistake! And what's worse, I did it myself - I, veteran of so many Rapid Chess battles." He looked at Cho. "What about the magic version? You said you'd show it once Harry beat you.

"Yes, except it's too late right now. Tomorrow's reserved for school work, so ... Wednesday evening, here again."

Ron nodded. "I'm looking forward to it. Goodnight everybody."

Despite his big mouth, Ron could be surprisingly tactful, as Harry realized when his friend left without waiting for him.

Cho rose from her chair, turned to the servant picture, and said, "You may go to sleep, Arbogast."

"I never - very well, Miss."

Cho strolled to Harry's chair, sat herself on the broad armrest, bent closer, and whispered, "In a minute, I'll be gone, Harry, so use it." Then she bent still closer.

Had this minute been timed by a chess clock, the flag would have fallen down a while before Cho's head turned back again. "See you tomorrow ... goodnight."

She had almost reached the door when he stopped her. "Cho?"

"Hm?"

"In a few days, something will happen. You must know then - it's not what it seems to be. But in public, you must behave as if it is."

She looked sharply at him, then smiled. "I didn't understand a bit, except for one thing: I love you, too." An instant later, she was gone.

* * *

During the next day, Harry learned that waiting for an event of an unknown date and time, as he'd done after sending his letter to the Goblins, definitely wasn't the worst. Waiting for five days to pass, unable to help, not having anything to prepare, in contrast to the time before his patrol exam, hurt worse.

During Astronomy, he felt tempted to ask how to accelerate the moon. Thinking the question over, he noticed how stupid it would have been, not only for the thought but even more for confusing the elementary astronomical facts of the moon phases.

He and Ron decided to spend the evening in the suite, playing Go. He won the first game, then lost the second twice as badly. They were in the midst of their third game when a knock came from the door.

Harry jumped up and rushed to the door. For a moment, he had doubts whether opening was really the best idea, but then decided that this could only be someone who was informed. He opened the door.

Almyra stood there, looking at him with tension in her face.

"Come in."

She stepped into the room, then stopped as though she didn't know what to do.

Harry reached her. "Al, is something wrong?"

Quickly, Almyra shook her head. "No, he's still there. I just came up hoping to find you here. I need a moment before meeting Cho ..." She started to tremble.

Harry grabbed her shoulders. "Al?"

"Harry - hold me, please. I ... I heard him ..." Next moment, she was clinging to him, her body shaking in desperate sobs, her head buried at his shoulder.

Harry held her, hugged her, took her head, stroked her hair, feeling surprise at how much smoother it felt than it looked, murmuring comforting words, instinctively avoiding the senseless phrase 'It's okay' - nothing was okay, except that he could feel how Almyra was slowly recovering.

After a while, her sobs ebbed. He guided her to a chair and made her sit down. Ron was there with a glass.

Almyra took it and gulped it down. She looked up, tears still glittering. "Thank you. You know, it wasn't that long - only I couldn't do anything and had to stay there ..."

"I know," replied Harry. "In a way, it's as terrible as - being cruciated yourself. But he's alive, Al, and that's what counts ... And he's tougher than he looks."

"Yes, I know." The slightest hint of a smile. "Remember, he's my case number one. I'm okay now - don't worry, I can stand it." She held out the glass. "Can I have another one?"

Ron passed the order to Arbogast. When the new glass appeared, Almyra took it and sipped, then said, "Ron, please - ask him for a tissue."

Harry stopped his friend. "Wait - there's something better." He walked to the bedroom door that matched his card, opened it, and pointed. "Al, there's a bathroom inside."

Almyra disappeared through the door, closing it behind her.

Ron glanced at Harry. "You didn't bother to tell us."

Harry shrugged. "What for?" He pointed to the doors. "The others don't open to that card, anyway I think each of them is a bedroom with its own bathroom - what you might expect from a guest suite."

Ron grinned. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could keep that card? Might come in handy some day."

The door opened again. Almyra came out, saving Harry from an answer. She looked better, although anyone would be able to see that she'd been crying.

Reaching the table, Almyra took her glass and emptied it. "Okay," she said, "now I'm ready to meet Cho. Thanks again, and goodnight."

When Almyra was gone, Ron asked, "Harry - you've been ... you know how that feels. How bad is it?"

Startled, Harry realized that Ron had never been cruciated. "Pretty bad," he said, "but I don't think it can break your will - provided you have a strong will. Remember the Longbottoms? They were driven mad before they succumbed. It's - it's white hot pain, pure and simple. Sure, it takes a lot of energy - "

"If you had a choice," interrupted Ron, "which role would be yours - Al or Lupin?"

Harry shuddered. "Sitting here, I'd say Lupin ... although I know that afterwards, it'd definitely feel like the wrong choice."

Whether it was from the encounter, from Ron's imagination that lacked the real experience, or just by accident - for whatever reason, Harry defeated him in the running game as well as in the next one.

Clearing the board, Ron said, "Just for my self-esteem, Harry - a last rapid one to finish the evening?"

Harry grinned. "What makes you think you'll win that one?"

"I'll answer the question afterwards - if there's still a need to answer."

There was no need. After his two glorious victories, Harry couldn't muster the energy for fast-thinking Go. Ron beat him so badly that Harry was almost laughing at his last moves, while his patterns were blasted away like dust in a storm.

* * *

Almyra was still there during breakfast next morning; Harry could see her at the Ravenclaw table. By lunch, however, she was gone. He wondered how the three Animagi would organize their shifts: obviously, human conditions prevailed over the natures of the animals - although, of course, a cat might be available for day as well as night. On the other hand, he didn't know whether the guard was held around the clock or with a break during the night hours.

Classes left as little impression as the day before, and tomorrow would certainly be the same. Harry waited impatiently for the evening, fixing his mind on this manageable time span. He would use the same trick tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow - by then, the five days would be over.

Cho arrived with two other trays of Go stones. Those in the first tray were light green, looking like jade.

"It's all fake," she said, "you'll see in a moment."

The other stones were black, with streaks and spots that looked like gold. As beautiful as these stones were - after days of playing with the pure sets of white and black, for Harry it felt like a sacrilege to use coloured stones, no matter how precious.

Cho sat down opposite him. She moved the tray with the green stones to her side, grabbed one, and laid it on the table in front of her. "Now watch," she said.

After a second, the stone rose an inch or two, floated through the air, and landed with a click on the board.

Cho grinned maliciously. "Your turn, Harry."

For an instant, Harry felt dumbfounded. Cho hadn't used her wand!

Then he knew: these stones were somehow prepared. But still it was a challenge. Swallowing his comments, he took a black stone and placed it on the table, isolated, the object of his undivided concentration.

For a few seconds, he didn't know how to approach the stone mentally. It had to be willpower ... He focused his mind on moving the stone. It felt ridiculous ...

Suddenly, the stone flew up, hung a moment in the air, then whooshed straight to the board, banged down and, driven by its momentum, skidded across several lines. It came to a halt almost in the middle between the marking lines.

Cho asked sweetly, "What place did you have in - er, mind?"

Ron was giggling madly.

Harry suppressed another remark - any word from him, and Ron would roll over. He glanced at the stone, trying to imagine a technique of smoother movement. Less force? A voice came up in his mind: Steady does the job, the man with the office furniture had said. These were small stones, not furniture, but otherwise ...

The stone rose, made a few jumps in mid-air, the first of them more abrupt, then slowing down. Harry blocked his mind against the snorting noises that were coming from Ron, and focused his mental grip on the small target. Finally, the stone moved the last inches across the board and landed at the proper place - not exactly at the intersection, however unmistakably positioned.

"Not bad," said Cho. "Still a little clumsy, but ..."

Suddenly, the stone was lying exactly at the intersection.

After a few more stones, Harry had mastered the skill of placing his stones accurately. The trick was to think of the lines as a grid, as a network beyond which there was no board of fine wood but empty space. To be honest, it was also quite helpful that Ron had stopped making noises.

---

Some minutes later, Harry was about to make his next move when he stopped, wondering. That pattern - he could swear he'd placed them differently. He checked again - how could he have made such a stupid mistake?

"Something wrong?" asked Cho.

Harry pointed at the board. "That formation - I can't believe I built it like that! It's so obviously wrong - "

"Funny ... Maybe the stone had its own thoughts."

Ron's giggling started again.

Angrily, Harry stared at his friend, only to see Ron looking at another corner of the board. Checking that spot, he found a similar misconstruction. Suddenly, he knew.

He stared at Cho accusingly. "It wasn't the stone, it was you!"

Unable to resist any longer, Cho joined Ron in the giggling. "It's wizard Go, Harry - magic moves and miraculous mistakes."

"Ha - that's cheating!"

Cho shook her head. "You can do the same - if you can."

Harry tried. The stone moved to a neighbouring place - except that it jumped like a frog through wet grass.

"Now that's cheating," shouted Cho.

Ron was hanging in the chair, gasping for breath, eyes watering.

It was impossible to remain serious under these conditions. Chuckling all the time, Harry placed his other stones carelessly, only trying to catch Cho when she was changing their positions. While he didn't recognize any of her corrections, Ron's outbursts clearly told him that she was doing it again and again.

Toward the end, the stones kept their places, simply because there were no more empty crossings in the neighbourhood. Harry's stones were blocked, surrounded, diminished quickly, while Cho's patterns had lots of room. When the game was over, Cho stopped counting at a surplus of fifty points.

At least, Harry had found out how she did it. "You're moving them while I'm busy setting my stone - right?"

"Of course!" Cho glanced at him disbelieving. "It's the rule number one - do it while the spectator is distracted."

"And how do you manage doing it so smoothly?"

"You have to think of the lines as railroad tracks - as the only ways they can use. The track only leads from the current position to the new one - that's the image you have to build. Then it's just a decent lift, a slight push, and the stone shifts over ... Only neighbouring positions, that's the rule."

"Hmm." Harry examined a stone to see whether he could detect a visible sign of the magical improvement. "I don't like it much; normal Go's more my style."

"It depends on what you want to do," replied Cho. "For playing Go, this is certainly a blow in the face of any tradition, but as a lesson in strategy, it's as important as the standard rules."

"It feels like a dirty trick."

Angrily, Cho snapped, "So? Are you too proud for that?"

With astonishment, Harry became aware that Dumbledore's plan was very much the same as Cho's trick - a faked position here, a faked identity there. Apologetically, he said, "No, I'm not, it's just that I'm not used to it."

Cho smiled at him. "It's always a question against whom to play such tricks - don't you ever forget that!"

Ron, listening to that advice, gave a deep and gloating grin. It disappeared quickly when Cho turned to him. "Okay, Ron - get ready."

"Oh no - I don't have to learn that." Ron's hands were up. "I'm not a crusader like Harry ... just an ordinary Go player, trying to become extraordinary."

"Coward!"

"That's not true! Besides, if anyone else had said that, I would ..." Ron couldn't find the words to express the horrible accident Cho seemed to have avoided just barely.

She wasn't impressed. "Stop playing the gentleman. This is about wizard Go, so come on!"

Still muttering, Ron switched seats with Harry.

---

Then it was Harry's turn to watch, deeply satisfied, how Ron went through the same difficulties, how he failed to move any of Cho's stones, how his patterns were dismounted as swiftly as Harry's only minutes ago.

Afterwards, Harry and Ron practised moving stones a half inch across the board, from one crossing to the next, noiselessly, smoothly, unobtrusively. Ron had accepted only with the promise of a regular match as a reward.

When the training session ended, Harry could move stones to the next crossing, but only in a ragged style, making an audible sound. At least, he was ahead of Ron, who still had trouble stopping the stone at the destination.

In the three-game match, though, Ron was the only one left with sufficient energy for serious playing. So to nobody's surprise, he scored a triumphant success - four points against Harry, two against Cho. In his last game against Cho, Harry had no competitive mood left; he just tried not to lose too badly, so Ron's triumph wouldn't be spoiled.

Instead, he weighed each stone as a piece of material rather than a game item. Close to the end, he made a serious try. The stone glided through the air, then fell down at the board.

"Hey!" Cho was beaming. "Very good, Harry!"

"No, not really - I lost it, that's why it dropped. Anyway, it's just a game."

Seriously again, Cho replied, "Only here. Imagine it's not a Go stone but a door lock."

* * *

Two days later - days which had lasted forever and appeared of normal length only in retrospect - Harry crossed the hall after having completed the classes of the day, on his way to the library. He wanted to ask Madam Pince if the inquiry had yielded any result.

Glancing toward the entrance to the guest suite, he saw a huge figure that caught his attention - an instant later, it had disappeared around the corner.

That hair - had it been Sirius?

He changed course and walked over, going faster with every step. Coming around the same corner, he saw the man waiting at the next landing: it was really Sirius.

He climbed the stairs. "Sirius - you here?"

"Sssht - softly, Harry." Sirius bent closer. "Listen carefully: I'm going to tell you how you're going to disappear."

Harry nodded.

"You have to fetch your cloak, gloves, and your Invisibility Cloak - if someone sees you, it's okay as long as it's none of your close friends. You mustn't be asked what you're doing, okay?"

"Okay."

"Then take your broomstick and fly up to the side of the building that faces the lake. For this, nobody ought to see you. Check the front, and when you see a lighted window with a red shawl, come to that window. I'll be waiting for you inside. Got it?"

Harry whispered, "Cloak, gloves, other cloak - Steel Wing - red shawl ... Got it."

"Get going!"

Harry crossed the hall and climbed upstairs to his dormitory. No Ron around ... he donned the normal cloak, stuffed the Invisibility Cloak and the gloves in his pockets, and went out. The staircase was the first critical part, but he only passed Seamus.

Reaching the hall, he looked around, trying to get an overview without looking like someone playing hide-and-seek. Across the hall, Ron was walking, probably to his office. A moment later, Ron had passed out of sight. Harry moved forward, crossed the hall, and reached the exit. Seconds later, he was in the storage room.

In a few minutes, the pre-supper patrol would come in. Would they notice his empty rack? If so, was it good or bad?

He took his Steel Wing, mounted outside, and jumped up.

---

Flying a wide arc, careful not to be seen, he approached the building from the lakeside. He was looking for a lighted window ... There were several, none of them showing a red shawl. Coming closer, he saw an irregular shape in one of them, but dark rather than red. Still, it was the only one that showed something. Hovering to the side, he slid closer and finally saw a red shimmer - in broad daylight, that thing would certainly be red. Anyway, this had to be the right window.

He slid forward, making himself visible from inside. Sirius' figure appeared and opened the window. Harry inched inside - the first time that he flew with a broomstick in a room. He touched down and dismounted.

Sirius asked, "Did you manage to get here unnoticed?"

"Seamus Finnigan saw me on the stairs, that's all. And the patrol might see the empty rack!"

Sirius grinned. "That's just fine: the sooner people recognize you're gone, the better. Wait here." Sirius disappeared through the door.

Harry glanced around. The room, although smaller, reminded him of the guest suite. Two doors, the exit and ... He walked to the other, tried the handle. It opened - to a bedroom, as expected.

Coming back, he saw another servant picture and looked up. "Good evening."

"Good evening, sir. What can I do for you, sir?"

"You can tell me your name."

"Yes, sir - Nicodemus, at your service, sir. I feel honoured to have you as my guest, Mr Potter."

Before Harry could answer, the door to the outside clicked. Sirius came in, followed by Dumbledore, who went straight to Harry. "The time has come for your visit to Nagini. Ready?"

"Yes, Professor. Where's Almyra?"

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "Would you accept being tranced by myself, Harry?"

"Er - yes, of course." Harry blushed - what a stupid question.

"Good. What I want you to do is this: your visit should be as short as possible. If you find Nagini guarding the cell - that means if it's obvious Lupin is still there - you can return as soon as Nagini has sensed you. Otherwise, your only question should be, 'Is Lupin still there?' If Nagini asks you why you are there, your answer should be something like, 'Just checking,' but in any case, no clear statement. Do you understand what I want?"

"I'll arrive, look for Lupin, and disappear."

"Exactly." The Headmaster reached for his wand. "Sit down, Harry. Ready?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore's wand pointed at him. "Mesmerisio!"

---

The room was replaced by a misty void. Sensing around, Harry scanned for a sign. No voice ... no mark - no clear one, at least. Only an irregularity in the void, like a dent. He aimed toward it, felt it grow, sensed something faintly familiar. He made contact by thinking of acceptance.

A room. A table, long and narrow, maybe a dinner table, although only a part of it was visible. A figure on a chair: Lupin, seen in profile, a plate in front of him. At his feet, curled on the rug, Nagini.

"Another visit, Harry Potter?"

"Not really."

He was not to be there: obediently the room faded, and Harry was back in the void. Sensing, he felt something like a drumbeat, pounding, unmistakably. He concentrated on it, approaching, feeling the resonance grow stronger. Just when the next pounding was due, his mind stretched out.

He could see light, and colours; Dumbledore was in front of him, Sirius at the Headmaster's side. With his focus stabilized, Harry said, "Done."

"What did you see?"

Harry described the scene, then repeated the question and his answer. "Nagini's mark was weaker than last time, Professor."

"She might be suffering from long periods of time in a cold cellar," replied Dumbledore. "Well, that's a problem we are going to solve now ... hopefully."

"Professor, what can I do here?" The prospect of hours, maybe days in that room suddenly looked more horrible than the idea of visiting Nagini personally.

"I can offer some books that might be interesting - and patience."

"Yes, of course, Professor - "

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm talking about card games, Harry. A patience is a solitaire game. I have a nice book about them."

Card games ... The last card game Harry had played had cost him five pages - on the other hand, a task like that, time-consuming without requiring too much thought, would be welcome now.

Dumbledore headed out, and was back a minute later with some books, a card game - and a pair of scissors. "Harry, may I ask you for some hairs - and your wand?"

Of course. Seeing the cards, Harry had decided to practise Ron's shuffling spell - forgetting he would be here without his wand. It felt like being naked.

"Professor, how long will it take?"

"You've just disappeared, Harry. It'll take a day for you to reach the house - the same time it takes to pass the news to Voldemort. Tomorrow evening will be the time. We'll be back the next morning, if everything works out as planned: We have to wait until Remus has regained his human shape."

"But how will the news pass to Voldemort?"

A smile appeared on Dumbledore's face, though not a friendly one. "A rumour that goes through Hogwarts will reach him; I'm fairly sure of that."

Harry stared at the Headmaster, eyes widening. "A traitor?"

"Yes and no - I rather suspect a rat with a discoloured paw."

Wormtail!

The thought seemed logical - Nagini hadn't mentioned Wormtail, but this was no proof; Voldemort's interest in everything related to Hogwarts and its occupants was obvious.

Dumbledore cut a lock of hair from Harry's head, took his wand, and said, "Wish us luck, Harry." Next moment he was gone, together with Sirius.

Harry was alone.

* * *

His first action was to order a drink. Then he inspected the bedroom and the bathroom, only to remember that he had no pyjamas, no toothbrush either. Nicodemus had all that, as well as answers to Harry's questions - until he asked about former guests in this room.

After successfully identifying a nagging pain in his stomach as hunger, he ordered food. Although the supper was of the finest quality, so was the supper in the hall, and the precious pieces of glassware and cutlery didn't compensate for the lack of company.

After the meal, he inspected the book about solitaires and tried some of them. Building families, up from the ace, down from the king ... Boring.

He grabbed the next book. Magic in the Middle Empire. Probably some history volume. About to drop it, he saw the name of the author - Huang'Khao Pei. Opening it, he saw that the book was about Chinese wizard traditions and myths - very kind of Dumbledore. A really fascinating book, which held him captivated until he felt ready to sleep.

He slept as long as he could, took his time in the bathroom, and finally came out for a leisurely breakfast. But as soon as the table was empty again, boredom engulfed him.

He inspected the two other books from Dumbledore. One was a collection of Animagus stories; the other was a novel about a wizard who had decided to live as a Muggle but constantly failed to suppress his magical powers. Both books would have been entertaining literature, on any other day, but not here in this luxury room, alone, waiting for the clock to turn, for the evening to arrive, for the night to pass.

---

After another try with solitaires, Harry felt desperate.

There was a desk in the room. He sat down, found quill, ink, and parchment, and started to write. Not knowing anything better, he filled parchment after parchment with descriptions of his Parseltongue encounters, starting with the boa constrictor in the Zoo, carefully describing every detail. Maybe he could use his work for his O.W.L., although he didn't really care, as long as the time passed.

When he finished with his report of yesterday's visit to Nagini, dusk had fallen outside. Harry's hand and wrist were hurting badly; he decided to take a bath. The hot water would ease the pain away.

It did; moreover, it also calmed his nerves.

He was lying in the bathtub, this thoughts drifting aimlessly, when a hot pain rushed through his scar. Within seconds, it faded.

Still feeling sick, he stood up and climbed out, and was reaching for a towel when another wave hit him, as hard as before, only longer this time, ebbing, growing, then steady, lasting forever ... He went down, kneeling, holding his head, losing all sense of time and his surroundings, only this razor-sharp burning - too much to stand yet not enough to faint.

After an eternity, it faded.

Grateful to have it within arm's reach, he bent forward to the toilet sink and retched. When the contractions in his stomach ebbed, he used water and a towel to clean himself and wipe the film of sweat off his forehead.

Trembling and shivering, he staggered out of the bathroom, halfway expecting another attack. It didn't come.

He dressed, then went out of the bedroom and walked to the window. A large, shining moon hung in the sky, perfectly round.

Harry knew what the pain attacks meant: there had been a duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort, or maybe a duel between the two sibling wands. Dumbledore had attacked as soon as possible, waiting only until the moon had appeared, but to which result?

Reluctantly, Harry reconsidered the two waves of pain. Dumbledore was alive, he was sure of that, he could almost feel it. What he didn't know was Lupin's state.

Still too dreary to eat, he sat down. Mechanically, his hands grabbed the cards and shuffled, shuffled, his mind far away, imagining the picture of which he hoped it was true: a wolf, running side by side with a large dog, stopping, sniffing, resting, enjoying freedom.

* * *

Harry came awake with a jolt. He had heard something, outside at the door, a click - the door swung open, and Dumbledore stood in the frame. There were smudges in his face; his moustache and his hair were almost gone, with burn marks on the scalp indicating how. The Headmaster looked battered all over, except for his eyes which were shining, sparkling ...

Harry was up. "And?"

"He's free! Hurt, but alive."

Harry jumped forward, reached Dumbledore, held him, buried his face in the Headmaster's chest, smelling smoke, dirt, feeling his own tears, and after seconds sensing the first laps of a wave in which he was drowning an instant later - joy, exultation, triumph. "He's free ... he's free, yes, free ..."

He felt himself being guided to a chair where he sat down, calming down enough to ask a million questions. "Where's he now? When do you expect him? Is Sirius - "

"Sirius is with him; he's all right. Let me just settle a bit."

Dumbledore ordered a glass of juice, emptied it, ordered two more and took the second.

Harry walked to the window. It was early morning, still dark outside. He turned back.

Dumbledore reached into his robe and came up with Harry's wand. "Thank you for lending it to me. It's a wonderful instrument to keep Voldemort at bay - although it doesn't mean you should look for opportunities, Harry."

"How was it, Professor?"

"Quick and clean - well, almost ..." Dumbledore touched the remnants of his burned hair. "He expected me all right, told me where I could find Remus. Well, and then came the unexpected part: starting with a blow that put a hole in the walls of that cell, so the moon could shine in. And Remus could escape - he didn't even have to pass the snake, for which I was grateful because that way he didn't pass me, either. Then I was quite busy finding my own way out."

"How did you - " Harry pointed. "What happened to your hair, Professor?"

"Oh, that ... After the little explosion, Voldemort knew of course that it wasn't you. I guess he knew by then with whom he was fighting. What he didn't like at all and what still surprised him badly was your wand. Then he tried some tricks, quite spectacular ones actually ..." Touching his scalp, the Headmaster said, "I wonder whether I should wear it short for a while."

Harry twitched. A short-haired Dumbledore? The symbol of Hogwarts ... "Please don't do it, Professor. Your hair is - "

"You're right, Harry. It would frighten students and teachers alike."

Dumbledore walked into the bathroom. When he returned a few minutes later, he looked normal again.

"It's still hours before the regular breakfast will be served," he said, "but I'm hungry now. Harry, would you join me in a pre-dawn meal?"

At these words, Harry's stomach reminded him with growling protest that there had been no food in the evening. A moment later, he was sitting opposite Dumbledore, biting large chunks off a cold chicken wing. Except for the circumstances, one really could get used to a guest suite with a servant picture.

---

"What will happen now?" he asked between bites.

The answer came in pieces, as even Dumbledore, great wizard that he was, hadn't mastered the art of talking and chewing at the same time.

"Once the moon has set, we should expect Sirius and Remus soon. Remus will go to Madam Pomfrey first - "

"How bad is it?"

"He has wounds on the face and hands; that's all I could see." Seeing Harry's expression, Dumbledore added, "Don't worry - you know how rapidly patients recover in Madam Pomfrey's care."

"And Voldemort, what will he do?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "He'll look for another house. What I hadn't destroyed while opening a path for Remus, he blew up by himself while trying to get me. I guess it burned down to the ground. He'll be mad - particularly so after we've made sure that the Daily Prophet knows about what happened."

Harry looked surprised. "You'll go public?"

"Certainly - without names, except that of Voldemort, of course. Otherwise, it will be described as an action performed by people from Hogwarts - to let everybody know what to expect from us." At these words, the Headmaster's face glowed with a hard glare.

Thinking about the scenes Dumbledore had described so sketchily, Harry remembered his sibling wands problem. "Professor - er, the fighting of the two wands ... Could you please describe it in - in some more detail?"

"Why?" Dumbledore examined him. "You saw it in your own fight, Harry."

"Yes, but ..." Harry explained his exchange of letters with Mr Ollivander, and that a library in London seemed the only place that offered basic literature for his O.W.L.

The Headmaster made a wry face. "So if I don't tell you more, I have to send you to London? I don't like either of those alternatives, Harry. Let's discuss the issue again after Madam Pince has got an answer from them."

The first signs of the coming day appeared outside. Harry wanted to stay in the Entrance Hall, to wait for the return of his two friends who had known his parents personally.

After confirming with Dumbledore that the full story could be told, he mounted his Steel Wing, rose carefully, and inched out of the window. A last wave to the Headmaster, then he pushed forward - eager to check the pathway on which they would arrive. Of course, everything he saw was empty and quiet.

He flew back, put the broomstick away, and went inside.

Waiting again - but how different was this, compared to the recent days. Could something still happen? Harry didn't know - although, in that case, Dumbledore wouldn't have been sitting with him so calmly.

---

The dark grey outside faded to light grey, then to light. The first rays of sunlight would appear any minute now.

A clank, then the door swung open. Three figures stood in the entrance: Sirius and Almyra, holding - almost carrying - a slumping body between them. Lupin.

Harry jumped up and rushed forward, noticing bandages that covered a hand and the side of Lupin's face. Lupin seemed barely conscious, unaware of his surroundings, and did not recognize Harry.

McGonagall came through the door.

Sirius gave him a brief smile. "Harry - let's talk later." He didn't stop, nor did he ask for help, and McGonagall passed them to open the next door - seconds later, Harry was again alone in the hall.

Still an hour's time to kill before breakfast was due - and he was wearing too much for the warm hall.

He reached the guest suite, dropped his cloak, and went downstairs again to position himself in the entrance to the staircase. He had a distinct feeling that certain students would come down early today.

His breath hadn't calmed yet when a small figure appeared on the other side of the hall - wearing a bathrobe that didn't fully cover the legs of pyjamas: Cho.

She looked around, saw him, and hurried over.

He had just time to rise, then she was there, flew in his arms, held him - he still could smell the sleep from her body.

"Where have you been?" The words came muffled; her head was still on his chest.

"Here in Hogwarts, but hidden in a room. Did Al tell you that I was here?"

Finally, Cho looked up. "Yes - I'd told her to wake me the moment she's back. I was constantly thinking about what you said ... I had no trouble looking worried, none at all!"

"What was the official version?"

"You were gone, probably to rescue Lupin. It wasn't an announcement, but people were looking for you, asking for your whereabouts. The rumour was around early in the evening. What did really happen?"

"Dumbledore did it. He was there in my shape and with my wand. He suspected Wormtail - Wormtail was the one who had to take the news to Voldemort. And Dumbledore was right."

Somewhere footsteps could be heard.

Cho stirred. "I have to get dressed; no need to be seen like that."

"Why? You look nice," Harry said, grinning.

"Ahem. Early morning compliments ..." She turned.

"We'll have breakfast in the suite. I'm still waiting for Ron and Hermione - please inform Al."

"Okay, although she's more interested in sleep." Cho disappeared.

The hall had just started to fill when Hermione appeared, saw Harry, and came over. Watched by some first-years, he was hugged again, and once more when Hermione heard that Lupin was alive.

A minute later, Ron joined them, beaming, slapping Harry, "You dirtbag ... you bloody ..."

Not caring for the open-mouthed students around, Harry grabbed his friend for another hug.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, "for a private breakfast. It's the last chance before I have to return the card." He looked at Hermione. "Leave a note for Viktor."

She nodded. "What about Cho?"

"She knows already."

Ron glanced at him. "We weren't the first, huh?"

---

It was just good that Harry had already eaten with Dumbledore. During a long and splendid breakfast, he had to tell the story three times - first a short version, then with all details, and finally, for good measure, by answering many questions.

In between, the others described what had taken place while Harry was hiding in the guest room: how the dormitory was searched, discovering the missing cloak, and then a check in the storage room confirmed that his Steel Wing was gone as well.

Harry looked at Ron. "What did you think?"

"Well ... I had some feeling, but then again, you're good for any kind of surprise. I was sure of just one thing: it wasn't blind panic; it was planned."

Hermione turned to Cho. "Did you know?"

"I had the smaller half of a warning. 'It's not what it looks,' he'd said, so I could imagine all sorts of horror stories."

After the breakfast, Harry made a first attempt to visit Lupin. He was stopped by Madam Pomfrey, who informed him that his first chance would be in the evening.

Almyra appeared for lunch. Afterwards, again meeting in the suite, it was her turn to describe what she'd witnessed.

At safe distance from the house, she'd waited while watching Sirius, who'd been closer. When she saw him move, a moment after the first explosion, she followed Sirius into the forest, to find a werewolf there, thus completely missing the other events at the house. In spite of his limping, the wolf had jumped and danced like a pup. Then, after a while, all three of them had found a place not too far from the portkey where they'd waited for the setting of the moon.

In the evening, Harry was allowed to see Lupin - "Ten minutes, Mr Potter." He came alone, with greetings from his friends, who'd been very determined to let him do the first visit privately.

Entering the room, he saw Lupin lying in the bed, awake, a clean bandage covering the left eye.

"Prof!" Lupin looked so weak and vulnerable, Harry didn't dare to touch him.

"Harry - it's good to see you."

Examining the bandage, Harry asked, "How bad is it?"

"Could be worse. One eye's gone; I lost it in the fight when I was captured."

"Oh no! Is it possible ..."

"No - that's even beyond Madam Pomfrey's skill. But anyway - look here."

Lupin's right hand appeared from under the bedcover. The index and the middle finger were stumps, slightly swollen, shimmering with a healthy-looking red. "By tomorrow morning they'll be back," explained Lupin. "What you see is the growth since I got here."

"How did you - "

"Voldemort's work."

Harry swallowed, feeling sickness in his stomach, a metallic taste in his mouth.

Lupin said, "Drop it, Harry, because it's over, and that's thanks to you, and Dumbledore, Sirius, and the others."

"Do you already know what happened here?"

"Yes." Lupin smiled. "In the cell there I didn't know what was going on, but I'd watched the behaviour of that snake the first morning. I had no explanation, but it was something to think about - a snake hissing at thin air. That was enough to hold myself - and then again in the dining room - by that time I was pretty sure that something was going on."

Madam Pomfrey appeared in the door. "Mr Potter - time's up."

Harry stood up. "Before I forget - the best wishes from all the others. I'll be back tomorrow as soon as possible."

Lupin shook his head. "Tomorrow I'll be up, then I have to make a visit to London. I need a new wand - and a glass eye."

* * *

Harry saw Lupin again three days later. Lupin was sitting at the teachers' table, the bandage gone, a new energy in his face. After the meal, Harry waited until most other teachers had left, then he hurried over.

Lupin looked at him, his good eye sparkling. "Harry - we have to talk."

In Lupin's office, Harry waited to receive his usual mug, then he said, "You look good as new, Prof."

"Yeah - it's almost true: a new eye, a new wand, and" - Lupin beamed - "something else is new. Guess what, Harry!"

Harry glanced at Lupin's fingers - did he mean them? "What?"

"My Patronus! It's still a wolf, but now it's a golden wolf."

"You ..." A hot rush of joy surged through Harry.

"Yes. It might have to do with the new wand, but I guess it's the memory I'm using recently. You know what I mean: the happiest wrapped in the worst."

"Oh, Prof - that's super! That's - when did you find out?"

"With the new wand, I went looking for an opportunity." Lupin's expression changed. "Harry, there's one aspect in which I didn't tell you the truth, although at that time, I didn't know better. You can scale the attacking force of a Golden Patronus."

Harry felt the hairs in his neck rise. "You mean - "

Lupin nodded. "In London I looked around to see who was currently under pressure from the Dark Forces and was getting visits from Dementors. Then I went to that place and waited - and last night, I met them. Three."

"And?"

The lines in Lupin's face sharpened. "You must know, not only was this the first test for my Patronus, it was also the first time after I'd been captured. Anyway, I was frightened enough and furious enough ..." Lupin's eyes met Harry's. "The Golden Patronus appeared. A moment later, the three Dementors were dead."