Learning to Vanquish

Chapter Twelve

Storm Clouds Approaching

It turned out that using the rings was much more difficult for Harry than it first appeared. If he was wearing his ring, he could feel the power as soon as one of the others put theirs on, but using that power was another thing altogether. It required a lot of practice to pull power from the others and more practice to do so without leaving them on the floor unconscious. Hermione wanted to spend every minute not in classes, doing homework or prefect duties on the practice. She and Ron had a huge argument about it, the first real fight they'd had since they'd started dating. It was three very long days before they talked to one another again. While Harry got more experience working with the rings, Hermione enchanted more.

"Why?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"I think every member of the DA will want one," Hermione answered. "Others might as well, but we'll start with the DA."

"And if they don't want one? Or don't want to wear it?"

Hermione shrugged. "It has to be a free choice, Harry. Even the Dark Mark must be taken willingly; Voldemort can't just brand anyone with it. The Death Eater has to be willing to give him that connection. If someone doesn't want one, or won't wear it, they don't."

"And we'll know their real loyalties," Ron added.

"No, we won't," Hermione said, to Harry's relief. "They might disagree, or they might be scared, or they may just not want that type of link. A lot of people could view this as . . . erm, a bad thing." She looked over at Harry with a guilty expression. "Harry wouldn't abuse the power the rings give him, but it would be really easy to do and some people might not want to risk it. While being willing to die fighting by his side," she continued before Ron could argue.

At Hermione's insistence, Harry wore the ring all the time. It made him nervous and he was very careful not to pull anything through his ring while doing magic unless he had discussed it with the others first. During his next training session with Snape, he discovered he was so scared about hurting the others that he wasn't even using his own full power.

"Potter, you can do better than this!" Snape yelled at him after breaking through a shield three times that would have stopped him the week before. "You claim you're trying to survive. Why are you pulling back?"

Harry tried to come up with a safe answer and promised himself that he would leave the ring off for future training sessions. "There was a technique I was practicing and . . ."

Snape hadn't been listening to him. He'd cast some type of charm that highlighted his ring. "What is that?"

"It was an idea of Hermione's," Harry answered, hoping to keep all of them out of trouble. "Something she's experimenting with."

Snape stared at him. "I should hope she's not experimenting with something that bears a disturbing resemblance to the Dark Mark. Now tell me the truth; what is it?"

"It enables me to share the power of anyone who wears a ring with the same charm on it."

"How many of them are there?" Snape asked. His face had taken on a calculating expression.

"There were three others, but Hermione just charmed several more. I didn't count." Harry looked at Snape, feeling very nervous. "Are we in trouble?"

"Not yet. The first time someone put on one of the subject rings after you put on the master, did it hurt?"

Subject? Master? Harry's stomach squirmed in guilt and fear. He wasn't going to turn into Voldemort; he just wasn't. "No."

"Does it hurt to put on one of the subject rings? And, no, I would strongly advise you never to put one of them on."

Harry shook his head. "Or if it does, they were really good at hiding it. I saw the first three when they were put on. I think Hermione might have given a few more of them out; I can feel more power there, but I didn't see them put on."

"Can they be taken off?"

"Of course," Harry said, shocked. "Otherwise, I never would have let them be used." He looked down at his. "I almost didn't anyway; it's too close to Voldemort."

"Don't say his name, at least not in my presence," Snape said, but there was no force behind his words. "And it's not." When Harry looked up at him, Snape answered the implicit question. "The Dark Mark hurts when it is received. Most of us faint from the pain. He feels pleasure when it is given; he makes that very clear. Finally, it cannot be removed. Once you are Marked, you are his." For some time, Snape seemed to be lost in memory; he certainly wasn't paying attention to anything in the room. He finally shook his head. "Does Miss Granger have extras?"

"I don't know. You could ask her."

"I will. In the meantime, may I assume your poor performance is because you're refusing to pull power through the ring?" When Harry nodded, Snape scowled. "That will have to change but, for the moment, remove yours. You need to be using everything you have; half measures will get you killed."

The training session continued for the normal amount of time. Once Harry removed his ring and started working full out, he discovered he wasn't as good as he had been before, but much better. When Snape finally called a halt, he asked about that.

"I would have to examine it more closely, but I suspect you're pulling some power through that ring all the time. Even with it off, you have that gifted power." Snape looked at him intently. "Potter, be careful with that ring. Don't take it off; don't let anyone else get it. Your friends are gifting you with their power, but anyone who wears that ring can use it. It's a very dangerous artefact." The Potions Master's eyes glittered dangerously. "It may also win us this war but not if it leaves your possession."

"Now, for something even more foolish," Snape continued. His expression had turned sour. "Tomorrow, you are to report to Professor Dumbledore's office after the evening meal. Bring your cloak; you will be Flooing elsewhere."

"Do you know why? Where?" Harry asked.

"If I do, I'm not to tell you," Snape answered, with a sneer.

The next day was a Hogsmeade visit. That morning, Harry sent Ron and Hermione on their way to Hogsmeade. Hermione's parents had relented and were again allowing her to go to Hogsmeade. They were also, Hermione had told Harry, keeping in regular contact with Professor McGonagall about the general danger, the danger for Hermione specifically and how she was behaving in school.

Harry spent the day in the common room, trying to catch up on all of his studying. Whenever a member of the DA would walk through, he would try to see if they were wearing one of the rings. Since he was trying to be discreet about it, he couldn't always tell, but he did see several of them around. He couldn't decide how he felt about it. Snape's seeming acceptance of them had eased his mind a lot, but they still worried him. His warning about keeping it safe had him checking his finger constantly to make sure it was still there.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for Harry in Dumbledore's office that evening. She walked to the fireplace and threw her handful of Floo Powder into the grate. "Follow right behind me, Potter," she said right before she said, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," and disappeared into green fire.

Harry grinned at Dumbledore. He grabbed his own handful and followed. He'd wanted to see Fred and George's store for almost a year now; he couldn't believe he was finally able to do so.

He arrived in what looked like an office. An office owned by two of the biggest pranksters in the last two decades. Fred stepped forward, reaching out to shake Harry's hand. "Excellent! We hoped you wouldn't get lost again."

"Again?" McGonagall asked, sounding horrified.

"It only happened the one time," Harry said. "The first time I used Floo Powder. I haven't had any problems since. So, show me around."

"Want to make sure your money's being put to good use?" Fred asked, grinning.

"You invested money in this place?" McGonagall asked. She was trying to look stern and forbidding, but Harry could see a smile trying to break out.

Fred nodded. "We owe our shop to Harry's unexpected benevolence. Why'd you think we were so determined to get him here?"

"I finally got the last customer out," George said, walking into the office. "I put a charm up so the shop looks dark and empty; you can browse around to your heart's content." The twins led Harry out into their shop and began showing him everything at once. Harry's head was spinning but he loved every minute of it.

At first glance, the shop looked like any other shop. There were shelves with various products on them, each one labelled with name and price. As Harry started looking through the shop, he found things weren't quite as he first thought. Some of the products would complain when he passed them by, begging to be bought. Others would hop off the shelves and follow Harry around, asking for his money. If one was on sale, its label would flash with the sale price, informing Harry what a good bargain it was.

When Harry pointed out that no tricks had been played on him, George shrugged. "We considered it," he said, "but we want our customers to come back and playing tricks on them might scare the more timid ones away. You should have been here this summer, when all the students were shopping. The din was incredible."

After almost half an hour, Fred and George exchanged glances, after which George pulled Professor McGonagall over to show her something that would temporarily transfigure whoever ate it. Fred quietly pulled Harry into the office. Remus was sitting there looking worried. Harry groaned. "Is this why Dumbledore finally let me come here?"

"He's all yours," Fred said, grinning at Remus. "Good luck." Fred walked out of the office.

Remus gave Harry a penetrating look. "Harry, about what you said to Severus . . ."

"I don't have a death wish!" Harry interrupted. "I don't want to die; I don't plan on dying. But, I have a madman after me and pretending it couldn't happen is stupid! Snape took what I said way out of context." He continued quietly, "I never expected such an uproar."

Remus smiled gently. "I suspect not; otherwise, you wouldn't have said anything. Nevertheless, Severus believes you were saying nothing more than the truth. Answer me honestly, do you believe you'll survive killing Voldemort?"

Harry sighed. "I want to. But he's got all the advantages; he's stronger, he's more experienced, he's more ruthless, he's got the Death Eaters feeding him power . . ." Harry trailed off as Remus raised his left hand. On the pinkie finger sat a ring, a ring Harry had a sinking feeling he'd gotten from Hermione.

"He has his Death Eaters, yes," Remus said. "You have your friends. As far as the rest, although it may be true, I think there's more to you than any of us know. I believe you can beat him and survive. However," and Remus's expression turned grim, "it will only happen if you believe it can. If you fight him believing that you'll die, you probably will. You have a number of people who believe you can win and want to help you do so. Do you want to let them down?"

"I don't want anyone else to die. And I don't want . . . Power corrupts. How can I know the power I'm being offered won't corrupt me?" Harry knew everyone thought they were helping, and they were, but he was left feeling miserable.

"People die," Remus said flatly. "It's not something you can stop. What you can try to prevent is people dying unnecessarily or people dying for no purpose. As far as the other, you'll have to trust us, Harry. We're gifting you with this power, but we're well aware of the possibilities of abuse. If it happens, the gift will be withdrawn. Immediately. In the hope that a good strong wake-up call will stop the slide." At Harry's dubious expression, Remus smiled. "I don't think it will be necessary. You're a good person, Harry. As long as you remember that you're not perfect, you'll be fine. Now, let's go back out into the shop. It's pretty impressive. Sirius was looking forward to seeing it, and James would have loved it."

On Monday morning, Snape handed back the latest Potions essays. While Harry sighed at his "P", Hermione pulled a small note out of her essay and slipped it into her bag. "I'll read it later," she whispered to Harry.

She pulled the note out of her bag in the Great Hall, while Ron stuffed most of a chicken sandwich into his mouth. "Oh, it just says that Ron and I are supposed to join you for tomorrow's training. That sounds wonderful; I know you've been learning a lot."

"Combat magic," Harry said. "Yeah, it's wonderful learning dozens of ways to kill, maim and torture people."

"Ber u n em," Ron said through a mouthful. When Hermione glared at him, he swallowed hard and repeated, "Better you than them. We didn't start this war, but we're not just going to let them win it."

Harry led the other two to the training room on Tuesday night. Snape was already there, waiting for them. "Miss Granger, how much does it take to enchant a ring?"

"Erm," Hermione said, startled.

"Yes, we know all about your little rings and what they can do. You've scarcely been keeping them secret."

"No, that's true," Hermione said. "Once I have a new ring, and Harry, so I can use his, it takes less than five minutes."

Snape sneered at her and pulled a small object from his robes. It was a silver ring, shaped like a snake with green eyes. "I need to observe the process."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, wide-eyed. Harry handed her his own ring and she cast the spell. She then returned the rings to their owners. "There you go, Professor."

Snape waited for Harry to put his ring on and then put his own on. He waited a moment, looking at the ring intently. When nothing happened, at least that Harry could see, Snape seemed satisfied and removed the ring. "You two, leave yours on," he ordered Ron and Hermione. "We have a lot of work to do."

Snape worked them hard that night, going through several different scenarios. Sometimes, he had Harry pulling power through the rings and, at other times, he told Harry not to try. When the session was over, he nodded. "Not too dreadful." As he stood up, preparing to leave, he suddenly asked Hermione, "Why rings?"

Hermione blushed. "I wanted something removable. Something permanent had far too great a risk of abuse, no matter how much I trust Harry. I'd considered several different things, but when I thought of rings . . ." She looked very embarrassed. "I remembered a series of fantasy novels I'd read right before I received my Hogwarts letter, the first one. A ring was important in that one, too, and it looked at some of the same issues. It . . . felt right."

Snape smirked at her. "Children's novels? We're going to defeat the Dark Lord with children's novels? How fitting?"

"They're not really children's books," Hermione argued. "They're actually quite famous."

Snape shook his head, but didn't say anything more as he swept out of the room. Harry and Ron stared at Hermione. "How many people have put the two together?" Harry asked her.

"Erm," Hermione said. "Well, all of the Muggle-borns, actually. I've been getting a lot of teasing about it. I didn't realize how popular they were."

Ron laughed. "That's what I love about you; always going to the books." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Can I read them? I want to know how your mind works."

Hermione smiled brightly at him. "Of course. I don't have my copies here but I can ask my mum to send them. She'd love knowing you were interested in my books."

As Harry followed the other two out, he heard Ron mutter, "That's not all I'm interested in." Harry thought he should have been upset for her, but Hermione sniggered at her boyfriend, and grabbed his hand to hold.

As Harry was sitting in the library working on an essay for Transfigurations on Saturday afternoon, Blaise came up to him and sat down at his table. "Where are your minions?" he asked, looking around. When Harry looked confused, Blaise said, "Weasley and Granger?"

"They're taking a walk for the lake looking for some plant we're studying in Herbology," Harry said, smirking. "Since it only grows near the equator in a desert, I think they'll be gone a while. Should I get them?"

Blaise sniggered. "No, please, spare me that. I wanted to let you know; Draco was called home this weekend. He won't be back until Tuesday at the earliest."

Harry thought about the calendar Hermione had made up for him with the Quarter and Cross-Quarter days on it. "It's not time for that," he finally said.

Blaise shook his head. "Not for that. His mum had a baby boy yesterday and he's going home for that. I thought you should know. Things are really getting serious?" he asked, twisting a ring around his right ring finger.

Harry nodded. "As is everyone around us," he said, nodding at Blaise's ring. It was gold, with a green stone with a snake carved into it.

Blaise shrugged. "If Riddle wins, I'm dead and so is my family. I'll do what it takes to keep that from happening. And, when I come out on the winning side, I expect those who were in charge to remember me."

Harry shook his head and laughed. "I hardly think we could forget you."

It was Wednesday before Draco returned to school. Although he'd been in good spirits throughout the year, this trip left him in a sour, angry mood. Daphne reported that he'd told Pansy that he didn't understand why little Orion had needed to be born. He was perfectly capable of handling all of his responsibilities, new and old.

Harry seemed to be spending all of his time worrying these days. Between keeping up with his classes, running the DA, the extra training with Snape and Quidditch practices, which had started up again, he never seemed to have time to breathe. On Sunday morning, he took the mirror with him to the Room of Requirement, locked and warded it, and then called Sirius's name.

"Hi," Sirius said, smiling. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Except for the parchments we've been sending back and forth. How are you doing?"

"Overwhelmed?" Harry answered.

"Tell me about it," Sirius said, sounding sympathetic.

Harry did. He poured out everything that had been bothering him in the last several months: about how he thought he might have to die to destroy Voldemort but that he couldn't discuss it with anyone because of how upset they'd get, about the rings and how the power and trust they represented scared him, about Malfoy and how no one knew what was going on there. He talked for well over an hour and Sirius listened without interrupting. Harry finally stopped talking when he felt as if someone had emptied his brain.

After a moment, giving Harry a chance to start up again if he needed to, Sirius said, "You've got a lot going on. Unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do. I probably couldn't do much even if I were there; most of what's going on is just stuff you have to live with. As far as needing to die to destroy Voldemort, I hate to say it but it's a possibility."

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling more relieved than he had since Snape had blown up at him for mentioning the idea. "It's not what I want, but I can't ignore it either."

"The problem is that they have all their hopes pinned on you. Losing you, even if it does destroy Voldemort, is not something they're going to be comfortable thinking about. At the same time," Sirius broke off and thought for a moment. "I'd try not to think about it. If it happens, it happens and you've accepted it, but dwelling on it will just drive you and everyone else mad. Let's see now, these rings. Tell me about them."

Harry told him everything he knew about them, including how many people seemed to have them. When Sirius asked, he also described how it felt when someone put one on; how he could feel their power. "I think, if I had enough experience with these, I'd be able to tell who had put it on. And," Harry flushed, thinking how shamed he was by what he was going to say, "it feels really, really good when they do. It almost hurts when someone takes his or her ring off. I haven't told this to anyone here; I don't know what it means."

Sirius was quiet for a while. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and sombre, "I think it's a very good idea that this spell was done with rings, which can be removed and disenchanted, and not with a tattoo or similar permanent mark. I don't think you're in much danger of going Dark but that would be quite the temptation." Sirius looked at Harry intently. "For now, they're useful. I'd use them as long as the safeguards stay in place. But I'd disenchant them all when their purpose has been served; you're right that it's a lot of power in one man's hands."

"As for Malfoy," Sirius continued, "they could be performing any number of rituals. What really worries me is the baby. It leads me to believe that Draco won't be around much longer. Not that would be a huge loss, he's a big git here as well, but something tells me he doesn't know that. It's something to bring up."

"If they haven't figured it out already," Harry agreed. "Thanks for listening to me. I needed someone to just listen to me." Harry smiled. "I feel a lot better."

"We live to serve," Sirius said, grinning. "Next time, don't let so much time go between chats."

Harry agreed and closed down the mirror. He really did feel much better, so much so that, when he went down to the Great Hall to eat, he managed to out-eat Ron.

At the next training session with Snape, which both Hermione and Ron joined again, Harry was trying to prevent Snape and Ron from disabling him and taking him away when his scar suddenly began to burn. Harry put up a shield and tried Occlumency, even trying to pull power from his ring, but the vision he was having became clearer the harder he tried.

He was sitting at a desk in a stone room. He thought it was in Azkaban, but he wasn't certain. He was giving instructions for an attack to a group of people, none of whom he recognized, who were shabbily dressed and rather ill-looking. In front of him was a list of about a dozen names. Four of them stood out sharply in his mind: Boot, Creevey, Finch-Fletchley . . . and Granger. Knowing that the instructions were incomplete, Harry pushed as hard as he could. He was just able to choke out, "You may go." Voldemort pushed back, nearly as hard and the vision ended and Harry blacked out.

When Harry opened his eyes again, he was in the Hospital Wing. Ron and Hermione were sitting in chairs next to his bed, looking pale and scared. "What's gone wrong now?" Harry asked them. His voice was much more hoarse than he expected it to be.

Hermione leaned over and picked up his hand while Ron turned and called for Madam Pomfrey. "You scared us!" Hermione told him. "First, you collapsed, holding your head. We all thought you were having a vision . . ."

"I was," Harry confirmed.

"But then you started screaming. No words, just screams. And a minute after that, Professor Snape's Dark Mark began burning. He had to run to report to Voldemort and we brought you here." Hermione's eyes were wide; she looked about to panic.

"You've been here about two hours," Ron told him. "We haven't heard what's going on with Snape yet?"

"That's Professor Snape to you lot," Madam Pomfrey said. She shooed Ron and Hermione away from Harry and checked him over. "There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, but you'll stay here until the morning so I can keep an eye on you." She turned to Ron and Hermione and said, "You two need to go back to your dorms; it's almost curfew."

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore and he may want them here while I do so."

"Hmph," she said. "I'll let him know that you need to speak with him, but if he needs you two," she turned to Ron and Hermione, "he'll have to ask for you. Go on now; you can see him in the morning."

Harry dozed off. When he woke again, the Headmaster was sitting beside his bed. "There you are. Madam Pomfrey said she thought you might wake again. How are you feeling?"

Harry thought about it. "My head doesn't hurt, but I think that's because Madam Pomfrey gave me some potions."

"And so she did," Dumbledore looked at Harry through his half-moon glasses. "What did you see?"

Harry told him everything he could remember about the contents of the vision, including all of the names he could remember. He emphasized that four of them were the families of Muggle-born members of the DA.

"Well, most of our mysteries are cleared up," Dumbledore said. "I will get the Order to strengthen protections on those families . . ."

"Don't bother," Snape said harshly as he limped into the Hospital Wing.

"Severus, what happened to you?" Dumbledore asked, looking alarmed.

"The Dark Lord pulled on the Marks to push Potter out of his head and to recover. I don't believe he meant to summon us as well, but that was the result. He changed the attacks; this month's attacks will be Ministry employees and their families. I don't know the names of the werewolves he's convinced to attack these people but it will be that again."

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "Harry, did you hear any names?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but I'd recognize them if I saw them. I got a good look at their faces."

Dumbledore nodded. "We'll try to get you photographs. If we know who it is to be ahead of time, we have a better chance at stopping them."

At their Friday training session, with just Harry, Snape handed him a pile of photographs. Harry went through them carefully. He was able to identify three of the werewolves from his vision, but no others. Snape didn't seem very surprised by this; when Harry asked, he just said that many werewolves never registered.

The game against Ravenclaw that weekend was a relief. Both teams had been practicing hard as soon as the weather had made it possible, and they were both evenly matched. The game lasted the entire afternoon and finally, when Harry caught the Snitch snatching it just before the other Seeker got it, the match ended 420-270. Everyone in the stands had screamed themselves hoarse; neither team had been up by more than thirty points the entire game.

Snape cancelled their next training session without an explanation. Harry wondered if it had to do with Ron, but realized it had more to do with the full moon that night. There would be attacks tonight, he knew, and hoped the Order could provide sufficient protection.

The morning's Daily Prophet had the story. There had been fourteen attacks throughout Britain the night before. With two exceptions, the victims were Ministry employees, most of them from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Order had obviously been out trying to protect the people at risk, but there were too many potential victims for the Order to be able to cover all of them. The Prophet reported that the Auror Department had been warned about the probable attacks but the head of that department hadn't believed the warning. Two werewolves were captured and three were killed; however, nine people were killed and six more were bitten. They would survive, but they would be werewolves themselves. The story made the ironic comment that the laws governing werewolves were likely to become more humane, with so many in the Ministry now affected by them.

As the week wore on, there were more stories about the attack. Most of them attacked the Aurors for ignoring the Order's warning, others blamed the Ministry and still others blamed the laws governing werewolves. One witch in Salisbury told a reporter, "It's no wonder they're joining You-Know-Who. If I had to live like they do, I'd join him, too."