Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-One: Enigmas Solved

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I'm not a page in History,
Not something that bold.
I'm not the greatest mystery
That was ever told.

Graham Parker ~ I'm Just Your Man
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You are mine, Potter, Voldemort said, staring across from him. Harry sat in a chair opposite the demon, a simple chair, not at all like the ornate throne Voldemort sat in. I will kill everyone you love. And once I'm done with them, I'll kill you.

You're welcomed to try, Harry answered defiantly. They were in a strange world, a dream world maybe, a place where their connected minds could meet and discuss the current state of things. It was light gray around Harry, growing to a shadowy darkness around Voldemort. Even with the shadows around the monster, Harry could clearly see the other's face. It wasn't exactly illuminated; it seemed that the shadows didn't want to touch Voldemort. But I won't let you.

I'm already on the verge of killing the mudblood loving blood traitor of a fool, Voldemort spat in return. I will have the lives of everyone you know.

Okay, keep telling yourself that and maybe, just maybe, it will happen, Harry replied sarcastically.

Why so cheeky, Potter? I don't remember you being so much fun last spring. Voldemort leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. He looked, well, Harry could only come up with the word evil to describe it.

Because you're nothing but a big bully, Harry said with a shrug. And I've never been afraid of bullies. Voldemort laughed, his laughter ringing in the room.

Never afraid of bullies... What of your cousin? You used to run from him.

Self-preservation, Harry explained. I knew I had bigger fish to fry. Be careful on who you tickle, Harry warned. You might just wake the sleeping dragon.

Don't quote Gryffindor at me, Voldemort commanded. He was a fool. Legilimens! Harry rolled his eyes at Voldemort as a bead of sweat broke out on the other's forehead.

I finally mastered that, he said with a yawn. Okay, if there's no point to this... May I go?

Go, if you can, Voldemort sneered. I poisoned him, Potter, and I will come after you and yours. Soon. Very soon. Harry rolled his eyes again. He noticed that the room around him had turned a brilliant white. For some reason this triggered a memory from the year before.

Goodbye, Harry said, thinking of everyone he loved, but most particularly Ginny. See you later. The room faded away.

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"You're one of the worst enigmas I have ever had the displeasure of working with," Nancy Nettle told Harry the following Wednesday morning. "I have tried to figure you out, boy, but you're a puzzle that I can't solve!" Harry just lay still, letting her rant and care for him at the same time. He had woken up late the night before, but had been commanded to sleep. He was at St. Mungo's in the room next to Ginny's. Nancy hadn't been able to get to Hogwarts to care for him, and Mrs. Weasley wanted him nearby so that she could look after him along with Ginny and Ron. It was new scenery that was for sure. Not the normal Hogwarts infirmary.

"Go. Get out of here!" she commanded, waving him out the door. "You're perfectly fine. You were always fine, except for being unconscious, and that blasted scar. Bleeding away. Out, before I change my mind." Harry hurried out, turning into Ginny's room.

"Hey," he said brightly. The Weasleys all looked up at him, surprised. "Nettle let me out!"

"That's nice," Mrs. Weasley said softly.

"How's Ron doing?" Harry asked. Every Weasley face went pale.

"He's alive and fighting," Bill answered. "The allergy is making the antidote less effective, but they're afraid to give him the remedy for the allergy. I guess this was expected."

"It was," Ginny said. "Uncle Severus told me so."

"Uncle Severus?" Mrs. Weasley said shrilly. "Where did you hear that lie?" Ginny looked at her surprised. They had all guessed that she had known, being Sam's favorite sister.

"Molly, they know," Snape said quietly from the doorway. "But, Ginevra, don't say that so loud. Half the hospital might have heard you."

"Maybe our good name will rub off on you," Ginny said impishly. Harry could tell that she was more than ready to be released from the hospital. Bill, Charlie, and Percy's jaws dropped.

"Snape... teasing... and... being teased..." Charlie managed.

"I don't believe it," Percy said softly, his eyes nearly out of his head.

"I knew and yet..." Bill started, but stopped mid-sentence.

"It takes some getting used to," a very tired and faint voice said from behind Snape. Snape moved into the room, pulling a gurney behind him. Lemon was steering it, and laying in it was:

"RON!" Ginny shouted, jumping from her bed to hug him, Mrs. Weasley close behind. Hermione entered the room, a huge smile on her face.

"Off, Ginevra," Snape commanded.

"Hey, how come old sourpuss gets to call you that and not us, your loving brothers?" Fred asked seriously.

"Because I get to call him Uncle Severus," Ginny answered. Lemon cast a cleaning spell on Ginny's old bed and carefully put Ron in it.

"You're free to go, Miss Weasley," Lemon told her.

Ginny jumped with a loud "Woop!" and hugged the closest person to her: Harry. He spun with the force she hit him with, lifting her up to burn off extra momentum.

"I'm free!" she yelled.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, calm down this instance," Mrs. Weasley scolded, hands on hips. "You are in public and will act accordingly." Harry set her down, hiding his grin in Ginny's hair. "And you, Harry James Potter, you just spent four days unconscious, you shouldn't be lifting anyone!"

"Ooo, she used your middle name," George said, using a spooky voice.

"Poor lad, it was nice knowing you," Fred said, shaking his head and brushing away a fake tear.

"Why?" Harry asked the Weasley kids.

"Makes you one of hers," Ron explained. "She's never used Hermione's full name because, well, Hermione's got a mum and dad to look after and scold her. You, though, don't. It's the final step of the unofficial adoption."

"And that's bad, because...?"

"Howlers," Bill answered.

"I only got one," Charlie said shuddering, "but I swore from that moment on never to piss mum off while I was at Hogwarts. It just wasn't worth the Howlers."

"Mum stopped sending us Howlers," Fred commented, his brow wrinkled in thought.

"Hey, that's right," George agreed.

"What was it, our... second year?"

"First," Mrs. Weasley corrected. "You were a lost cause and I knew you were only doing things so that I would send them."

"How's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, changing the subject before the twins had Mrs. Weasley yelling. The room went silent and cold. Too late Harry realized that this was probably not the best topic of choice.

"He's an old stubborn fool," Snape muttered. "He's refusing to stop or even slow down. It has been proven that bed rest delays the potion's march forward."

"How did Voldemort manage to poison him?" Harry asked.

"You said Voldemort's name," George exclaimed.

"Yeah," Harry said with a confused shrug. "I have been for awhile."

"They haven't been around you, Harry," Snape explained. "You must remember how terrified you were of saying it earlier in the summer."

"How did he do it?" Harry repeated, turning the spotlight off of him.

"They think Nott put it in his drink," Snape said wearily. "I'm guessing at the dance."

"The dance..." Harry repeated thoughtfully. "'That some day I'd meet a young boy and he would be my "downfall",'" Harry recalled aloud from a conversation he'd had with Dumbledore a few weeks ago. "I need my Pensieve," he muttered to himself.

He rushed out of the room, through the hospital, and outside. He apparated to the Hogwarts main gate and entered. He took off again, running up the grounds and through the castle. After slamming open his door, he went to the cupboard and yanked it open.

"Harry--" Seamus began, but Harry was already out the door, the Pensieve under his arm. Heading to Auror Headquarters, he barged into Thia's office.

"Can I get a Portkey to St. Mungo's?" he asked, panting. Thia saw the look in his eyes and nodded. The look she gave him before handing the Portkey was shrewd and concerned.

"You'll explain once you're back?" she asked. "I can't leave, and you don't want to stay..." Harry nodded hurriedly, snatching the Portkey from her.

"Promise." With that, he activated the old fish net. The Portkey deposited in him in the waiting room, and Harry shouldered his way through the crowd to get to the stairs, apologies floating back behind him.

Once Harry reached Ginny's old room he collapsed on the floor, stirring the thoughts around with his wand. An almost real Dumbledore slowly rose out of the Pensieve, sitting in the Quidditch stands next to Harry. Dumbledore was considering a question and then answered honestly.

"That some day I'd meet a young boy and he would be my 'downfall'." Harry made the image turn so that he could see the old man's face. He replayed the sentence again. And again. And again. Then, with a wave of his hand, the image was gone. He stirred the memories, this time a full scene rose up and out. Harry and Ginny were dancing in the middle of the view. Off to the side, Nott and Malfoy were arguing.

"So that's who you were watching," Ginny muttered, but the twins shushed her.

Nott stormed off, but Malfoy turned his back to the viewer and did something. Harry made a rude sound in frustration. "There's no way to tell what he did, unless I go in. I'll be right back." Harry entered the memory and watched the argument take place.

"Look at the Weasel whore, making her way through the Gryffindor seventh years," Malfoy muttered darkly, his eyes following Harry and Ginny as she dragged him out to the dance floor. "Only one she hasn't 'officially' dated is the older Weasel, but we all know what the Weasels do to keep warm at night."

Nott laughed at the sick joke; Harry's right hand gripped around his wand tightly and his left was balled up into a fist so tight, blood started to slowly pool around the nails. It would be hard not punching Malfoy's nose through the back of his skull the next time they met in a corridor. To distract himself, Harry turned to watch his memory-self catch sight of the two Slytherins. He was relieved to find that from the table it was impossible to tell where his memory-self was looking.

"Gryffindor Golden Boy over there is just as annoying," Malfoy continued. "Every day going off to plot with the mudblood loving fool."

"I don't know why I can't just bite the old codger," Nott said hotly.

"Don't interrupt me, you idiot," Malfoy replied harshly. "You can't because it isn't part of the Dark Lord's plan," Malfoy added, his sneer plastered on his face. "Go away before someone notices us here."

"Not fair," Nott responded and then left to pout.

"Have a good afterlife Dumbledore," Malfoy said as he poured the poison into Harry's glass. Harry exited the memory, and sank to the ground shaking with sorrow and fury.

"He knew, he knew and he drank it so that I wouldn't," Harry said. He played the rest of the scene, Dumbledore walked over to talk to him, took the drink, and swallowed it in one go... Was that a tremor? A wave of Harry's hand dispersed the memory. He stirred the Pensieve and pulled out one last memory.

"What did Gryffindor say to you?" Harry heard himself ask.

"That some day I'd meet a young boy and he would be my 'downfall'. He was right. You, Harry, you ruined all my plans for Voldemort's demise. I couldn't stay detached. In the end, that was for the best, for it is love that Voldemort does not possess or understand. That is the power he knows not."

"BULL SHIT!" Harry screamed at the image of Dumbledore. "You knew. Malfoy told you. You knew he would be trying to poison me! Damn you!"

"I did," Dumbledore said from the door. He looked tired, old, ill. There was, for once, a good reason: he was dying. He closed the door behind him. "And I believe that was all a part of Tom's plan. Draco has been playing the part of a double agent for some time now. Tom knows this. I know this. We also know that in the end, Draco is only loyal to himself. Having me out of the way furthers his plans for the future. Having you out of the way does not. He wants you to kill Tom, so that he can be free."

"So he can become the next great Dark Lord?" Harry asked.

"That I don't know," Dumbledore said honestly. Harry snorted. "I will not hide anything from you from now on. My days are running out. I don't have the time I need. I cannot waste it with games. Between you and me, your life is more important. You have an important task ahead."

"Yeah, 'cause I've always been the answer to your prayers," Harry said bitterly. "Your savior."

"No," Dumbledore said firmly, losing his cool. "Never that! You, Harry, are a great man, one of the few innately better-than-the-rest-of-us persons. Ask my brother, ask Nancy, I am not perfect. I spent the first forty odd years of my life neck deep in the Dark Arts. I trained Jeroen, Grindelwald as you know him. Why do you think that I volunteered to destroy him? Why do you think I was so depressed? I had created that monster! Why do you think I spotted Tom Riddle for what he was: a dark wizard in disguise? Because I had spent forty of my years in such a state!

"You have never once thought about being dark, Harry " Dumbledore continued, ignoring the stunned room. "You have a future I denied myself as punishment. Love, Harry! Love is what the dark does not understand! I loved my brother but only because he was just that, my brother. Nancy was always his friend before mine. She was in his year, and they had ridden the train together. Where was I? Speaking with a dark student in the sixth year, learning from him! It was not until an experiment lost me a house, my land, and my mother that I realized what a fool I had been."

"I don't be--" Harry started, but stopped remembering everything they had talked about. Yes, hints were everywhere.

"Harry, because of my choices, you grew up in a family without love, without care," Dumbledore continued. "You deserve the family both Tom and I denied you. You will live, because love will get you through. Not because of a damn Prophecy. Seriously, Gryffindor gave it, how can we trust it? No, Harry, between you and me, you are more important. Not me, never me."

Dumbledore stood there, taking deep breathes. Harry felt that this was the first time the wise man had had the opportunity to rant and followed through with it. The group was silent. No one knew what to say to that outburst. What could you say?

"That's why you believe in second chances," Harry mused out loud. "And why you call the Dark Lords by their 'real names' instead of the names they gave themselves. Why you made me swear not to use anything you taught me for the dark. Why Voldemort fears you... Dumbledore's big dark secret. All your biographies point out that you were a stellar student, but until you started teaching at Hogwarts they don't go into any details about your life." Dumbledore nodded, entering the room further and taking a seat in the armchair by the window. "Okay... so I'm not a savior in your eyes, but..."

Harry stopped talking, and just watched the Headmaster. But--what? Why did the idea of Dumbledore dying bother him so much? Was it just the loss of yet another life to add to his long list? Was it the loss of knowledge? The loss of a mentor? Or more than that?

"Did you have to drink it?" Harry finally finished, the anguish stifling his ability to think clearly. "Couldn't you have poured it down the sink or something?"

"If he would have," Snape answered, "the poison would have gotten into Hogwarts water system, and it's too volatile to dispense anyway other than digestion. This poison has been perfected through the centuries, ever since Salazar came up with it to kill a Dark Lord."

"It's a thousand years old and no one has figured out a cure?" Ginny asked, surprised. Harry could tell that she had found a challenge, one that she was thinking about accepting.

"Correct," Lemon said heavily. "At least it takes a great deal of skill, time, and money to brew. Keeps it from showing up often." He turned to look at his long time friend. "I can only give some of my time to this, Albus, as I'm sure you know."

"Don't bother giving any of your time," Dumbledore instructed. "There are others that have a better chance of being cured. Worry about them."

"You cannot give up, sir," Snape argued. "Just because the cure has not been found to date, does not mean it will not be."

"I am not, Severus," he said with a sigh. "I am being realistic. I am ready for my next great adventure."

"Just don't you bother me if I ever find myself between life and death," Harry told him with a sad smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Gryffindor is bad enough on his own, I don't even want to imagine what the two of you together would be like."

"No promises," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Lemon drop anyone?" The twins energetically agreed, but the others turned the treat down.

"I actually came to ask Harry if he'd be willing to have a D.A. lesson tonight," Dumbledore said after a few minutes of enjoying his sweet. Lemon had left to check up on his other patients, and Bill had just excused himself to return to Gringott's. "Several students have come up to the other professors and me asking for a meeting."

"Sure, I was going to cancel Quidditch practice tonight anyways," Harry said.

"Professor Snape?" a Healer said, popping her head into the door. "Healer Lemon would like you to take a look at a new poison patient, seeing as you're here. And Healer Nettle would like to speak with you, sir," she said to Dumbledore.

"I will have a portkey ready to take you three to Hogwarts at four," the Headmaster told the students before he left.

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"Ginny!" Lavender shouted, running to hug the younger girl. Most of the ladies in the D.A. followed suit, talking and asking questions at a mile a minute. Harry felt his head spin, so he left Ginny's side to go to the front of the room.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" he asked, pulling the attention from Ginny. She had a huge grin on her face, but Harry could tell that she was exhausted. "I was just wondering if there was a particular reason for you all wanting this meeting."

"We want you to step it up," Blaise said, speaking for everyone. Professor McGonagall frowned at this statement. "So far we know that Hogwarts can fall prey to Death Eater attacks. We're particularly at a disadvantage because the enemy lives with us. And word in the hallways is that Dumbledore was poisoned and is dying. We'll need a miracle to keep Voldemort from attacking if Dumbledore does die."

"Alright," Harry finally agreed. "I don't want you all to be unprepared, so, I'll do it." Harry closed his eyes and thought for a minute. "We'll meet Tuesdays 7-9 and Fridays 7-9, along with our hour practice on Sundays."

"Five hours?" Susan said, surprised. "When are we supposed to do our homework?"

"Find time," Harry said dully and with a shrug. "For this to be successful, you have to step up the hours and effort. Don't waste my time; it's very precious right now. If anyone's grades suffer for this, I'm going to ask you to come only on Sundays. If I can manage everything I do, you can manage this."

The lesson had been intense, Harry running them through exercise after exercise. He started to teach them the spell dances Druce had been teaching him. It was surprisingly similar to the sword dances, only you used a wand and spells as the weapons. By the time the night's two hour long session ended, Harry had the whole group exhausted and sweaty. No one complained though, not even Lavender and Parvati.

"You did well tonight," Harry told them, smiling at their weariness. He had managed to work up a sweat as well; fighting against Hermione was difficult. Her command of spells was amazing.

"When will we get to face off like you and Hermione?" Blaise asked. Harry had just taught them the dances, not how they were to be interwoven.

"When you're individually ready for that step," Harry answered. "Now, sleep well and see you all in classes."

"You're going to ask Druce to come to meetings, aren't you?" Ginny asked as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry couldn't believe he had been away for almost five days now, Ginny a week and a half. It felt good being back at Hogwarts.

"It's best if they're taught correctly," Harry told her. "I was thinking, sometime Saturday, do you want to, I don't know, go flying, just the two of us, I mean, not for a practice or anything like that." Ginny and Hermione laughed at his nerves. "Sorry, I hate rejection."

"Depends on Ron," Ginny answered. "If not, then I'll definitely go flying with 'just you' some other time."

"Ha... Ha... Ha..." Harry laughed sarcastically. "Ron looked good today."

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, pulling her two friends into an empty classroom. She hesitated before continuing, casting a Silencing Charm. "Harry, what do you think about Dumbledore?"

"Everything makes sense," Harry finally said. "He was talking about things he did one hundred ten plus years ago, Hermione. I only know small things about him, but... knowing that... it all makes sense. I couldn't understand why he'd volunteered to take down Grindelwald and then get so depressed that he'd try suicide."

"Wait--" Ginny said, surprised. "Dumbledore tried to kill himself too?"

"Yeah, same way too," Harry said softly. He pointed to the spot Dumbledore's scar was. "That's what unbalanced me that one day, back in the summer, when I hid in the Slytherin common room. It just... rocked a boat that shouldn't have been rocked."

"Wow, I never would have guessed," Hermione muttered.

"Yeah, our happy go lucky, eats lemon drops way too often, god-like headmaster is actually human," Harry said softly. "I like it, I guess. It... I knew he understood me, once I had thought about it a bit more. Of course, I was too stubborn to forgive him for like two weeks, but... it's the thought that counts."

"Same way, that's a freaky similarity," Ginny commented.

"Not really," Harry said with a shrug. "What's the one spell that is a guaranteed death? Avada Kedavra. And I'm never using it again."

"What about Voldemort?" Hermione asked, surprised and confused.

"I'd rather choke him with my bare hands," Harry told her honestly. The girls laughed. "Com'on, I've got a lot of catch up work, as does Ginny."

"I'm actually caught up, genius," Ginny told him. "Wait, Harry..." she said, making him turn around. "What happened that made you pass out?"

"When we're with Ron," Harry answered. "It'll just make it easier."

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"We have a limited time until I can no longer teach you," Dumbledore told him honestly. "And I know this is unfair, but I want to add lessons which would take up your free periods, not including Monday's." Harry thought about it.

"We don't really have a choice," he finally said.

"No, we don't. But I have faith in your abilities to learn quickly," Dumbledore told him. "You're already surpassing even my wildest dreams with the Theory of Greats. Today we work on shielding others. This is the most important thing I can teach you."

"I think you've taught me much more important things," Harry finally said. "I've never really thanked you for letting me stretch my wings. You could have coddled me, a lot more than you did. But... you didn't. You let me face Voldemort each chance I got, proving to me that he wasn't some nameless terror. You let me go to the Weasley's for some breaks, but never so often that Mrs. Weasley became nagging, or the joy of being there wore off. So... Thank you."

"I don't deserve your thanks," Dumbledore finally said. "But I thank you for it." Dumbledore launched into his lesson, instructing Harry how to enlarge his own shields so that it covered others. It was difficult. It was more than difficult. "We'll meet again on Tuesday," the headmaster said, standing to leave.

"Can I walk with you down to the Great Hall, sir?"

"Of course."

Harry took Dumbledore's arm, lending him his strength and support. According to Snape, this poison sits in the bloodstream inactive for two or three weeks. There were a few warning signs, but normally no one realized what was the matter, and even if they did, it was already too late. For the next two weeks or so, Dumbledore would be unbelievably weak, after that... The pain would start and continue to increase. That was what would kill Dumbledore. His body would just shut down in overload, unable to handle the stress.

They entered the Great Hall, the room unusually silent. The students didn't know for sure, but they all knew deep down that something was really the matter with Dumbledore. Most suspected that he was dying. Looking at the man who finally looked his age and more, Harry couldn't see why everyone didn't suspect that.

"I forgot to tell you that Severus expects Ron to be back Wednesday at the latest Thursday. I also want Miss Granger and you to announce the next Hogsmeade substitution."

Harry stopped, just as they reached the edge of the House tables. "No," he said simply, and in the quiet room his voice echoed eerily. "We will not be holding an ice cream social while you're--" Dumbledore cut him off.

"Give me some peace of mind," he said. "Ease an old man's misery and worries, Harry. There are so few joys in life." Harry stared into the other man's eyes, surprised when he hadn't needed to look up at the taller man. The weight of the world and his pain seemed to be finally affecting Dumbledore. Even more surprising was the fact that Harry could maneuver past Dumbledore's Occlumency shields and he saw just how much this meant to the Headmaster.

"Very well," Harry conceded, with a small nod. "I'll make the announcement now." He walked with Dumbledore up to the teacher's table, not following Dumbledore around to the other side. He realized that everyone was already staring at him.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" he said needlessly. "Professor Dumbledore wants me to announce the next Hogsmeade substitute. On December the nineteenth, we'll be having an ice cream social. It will be in here, and more details will be available as the date approaches. Thank you."

Harry walked over to whisper something to Ginny who nodded. Grabbing a roll, he turned and, conscious of all the stares, went to sit nonchalantly next to Blaise. Ginny took the seat next to Sephra and across from Harry. Harry looked over at the four empty seats that normally contained him and his friends. Hermione was with Ron again, helping him recover and tutoring him.

"You just like making waves," Blaise said, handing Harry the chicken platter. "Sitting with the Slytherins, what's gotten into you, Potter?"

"Who knows," Harry said with a shrug. Reality was, he knew how much school unity meant to Dumbledore. Snape gave him a month to live; Lemon seemed to think that was optimistic. If Dumbledore managed to live a month, he would make it two days past Christmas. Harry hoped he would be able to see Hogwarts ready for Christmas just one more time. She looked the best during the Holidays.

The four students talked about the Quidditch game coming up in two weeks. Ginny and Blaise were all for Ravenclaw winning, their chasers were great together. Sephra and Harry expected the Hufflepuff Seeker, Rose Zeller, to win the game.

"Quick little thing she is," Harry said hotly. Ginny just laughed at their belief in the third year. "And she's got the new Nimbus 2004, way better than the Cleansweep Ackerley has."

"And Ackerley didn't train with the team last year, Rose did," Sephra pointed out. "She even played Ravenclaw last year, remember?"

"I'd forgotten about that," Blaise told her honestly. "Cho was pissed that they put their second string seeker against her, and for their first game."

"Cho's a cow," Ginny muttered, running the ring up and down on its chain.

"Don't you be insulting my ex-girlfriends," Harry teased her. "You are one of them after all.

"Okay, so maybe not a cow," Ginny retracted, "but spoiled and a bit whinny."

"I'll accept that," Harry said with a smile. "I went to watch the Hufflepuff practice last night, to scout them out, and Zeller makes me nervous. She's great on a broom. Unbelievable."

"Harry, when it gets closer to our game against Ravenclaw, would you want to scrimmage with us?" Sephra asked.

"Sure, why not," Harry replied. "Well, I should clear it with Ron and the team first, but it'll be good for all of us."

"Have you seen Professor Snape outside of class?" Blaise asked the two Gryffindors. "I thought he'd be back now that Ron's taken the antidote."

"He is back," Ginny said.

"Not really," Sephra countered. "I mean, he's at classes, but I haven't seen him at meals or patrolling the dungeons and even in class, he's always working on some project, not really paying attention to us." Harry looked up at Dumbledore and frowned slightly.

"He's just busy," Harry told them.

"What's up with Dumbledore?" Blaise asked quietly. Harry shrugged, pretending that he didn't know. "Don't give me that, Potter, I know you know."

"And maybe I can't tell you," Harry whispered back. "It's not my secret to share."

"Let him be," Sephra said, cutting Blaise's angry retort short. "If it's not his secret, then he can't tell you."

"Are you going to be skipping your office hours on Friday every week?" Hannah Abbot asked from behind Harry. "Here's two detention slips I need you to approve."

"Sorry," Harry said, taking the slips. "But, yes, I probably will be busy during that hour."

"You're going to have a three hour class with Dumbledore?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"Yes, along with my other free periods during the week," Harry answered. "Times running out," he whispered in her ear, and she nodded sadly.

"Damn, Potter," Blaise commented, "when are you going to do your homework?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he answered. "Though I should go start some of it if we're going to spend tomorrow at St. Mungo's."

"Me too," Ginny said with a nod. "'Night."

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"Is that during the Easter Holidays?" Hermione asked Melissa the next afternoon. Everyone was visiting Ron, who looked better, but still had a few chartreuse lines on his slightly turquoise skin.

"Yep, April fourteen, comes right in the middle of it," she answered.

"You're going to get married on a Wednesday night?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"Yep," Bill said, wrapping an arm around Melissa's waist. "Our first date was April fourteenth, two years ago this April."

"So not only will you forget your wedding anniversary, you'll forget your first date," Charlie teased him.

"Actually, I'd forgotten the date," Melissa confessed. "Dates aren't my thing. He'll probably be the one remembering every year."

"A blessing in disguise," Bill told them. "She's a great hexer though."

"Worse than Gin?" Harry asked.

"No one's worse than Ginny," Bill answered with a laugh. Ginny stood up to bow a few times, her brothers all clapping.

"Ginny, why don't you and Harry go get tea and some sandwiches?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I'm not--" Bill started, but Melissa put a hand on his mouth.

"I think that's a great idea," she agreed.

"Alright," Ginny said, pulling Harry out of the room behind her. "Ron is looking good."

"Yeah, though did you notice that he can't breathe deeply without coughing, and his skin is still a bit turquoise from the Sneezewort?"

"When you'd gone to the loo, Fred and George were teasing him about it," Ginny said, trying to keep her laughter in. "Mum made them stop because they were getting him riled up, which is a no-no."

"Doesn't it make the Sneezewort reaction worse?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, laughing now. "He got really turquoise and the boils showed up, but really small. Mum and Hermione had to calm him down."

"And I missed this all when I was in the loo?"

"Yeah, we'd thought you had run off."

"I did meet up with Professor Snape," Harry answered. "He's still working on the antidote for Dumbledore."

"He's looking exhausted in class," Ginny said softly, entering the kitchens. "I hope he doesn't break down because of lack of sleep."

"No kidding," Harry agreed. "How many of us are there?"

"I don't know," Ginny said. "Ron, Hermione, you, me," she started to list off, counting on her fingers.

"George, Fred, Bill, Melissa," Harry continued.

"Mum."

"Charlie," Harry said, racking his brains for more. "Is that it?"

"Percy, can't forget him."

"Oh yeah, he sits in that corner and doesn't say anything, hard to remember," Harry commented.

"I guess Ron yelled at him on Thursday," Ginny said softly. "Is that it then?"

"I think so," Harry said with a nod. "How many is that?"

"Eleven."

"How are we going to get enough tea for eleven people down there?"

"I have no idea," Ginny said. "Maybe they'll give us a tray and two pots of tea." And that is what they did. "I'm going to drop this," Ginny said, trying to concentrate on balancing her tray of sandwiches and cups. "I can't believe I can't use a hovering spell to get this there. Stupid magical healing wards. Hovering charms are so useful."

"It's not that hard," Harry teased her. His tray had both tea pots and four cups on it. "Come on, hurry it up."

"I'm going as fast as I can," she muttered. Harry walked behind her so that they didn't block the hallway and stairs. "We should have brought the twins with us."

"Are you kidding," Harry said with a laugh. "They would be doing everything in their power to trip us up."

"Okay, than Charlie or Bill," she said. "Or Perce."

"Do you think Ron and Percy will ever get along?" Harry asked.

"They never really did," Ginny answered sadly. "Percy was always hard on him and the twins. The twins could laugh him off and then prank him, but Ron took the brunt of it. And with all the crap he did two years ago, I'm not sure if Ron will ever forgive him completely."

"That makes me sad for some reason," he told her.

"Me too."

"Just goes to show that even the greatest family in the world has problems," Harry commented.

"Dad would have been the only one to make Ron understand why Percy should be forgiven," Ginny said softly, looking at her tea tray. "Ron always listened to Dad. It might have taken a few days to sink in all the way, but it always would."

"Where are your dad's ashes?" he asked, curious.

"There's a cemetery in Hogsmeade," she answered. "It's different from a muggle cemetery, though. It's a field; wild flowers grow all year round. You just sprinkle the ashes into the wind and let them fly. That's all some families do, though most add a tombstone. They're hard to find, unless you visit often enough to wear down a path. Most wizards and witches just apparate there. I bet your parents' tombstones are in there somewhere," she finished.

Harry paused. He had never thought of that. He didn't know where his parents were buried, or if they had been burnt to ashes according to Wizard tradition. The thought had never occurred to him before. He hurried up to catch up. "I wonder if you're right."

"Probably am," Ginny said, turning to look at him. She backed though the door to Ron's room and right into a young lady neither of them knew. The sound of china crashing filled the room, and both women started to apologize.

"I am so sorry," the stranger said. "I'm just so lost here."

"That's alright," Ginny told her, helping her rescue sandwiches and fix the glasses. Harry stood in the doorway, unable to help. Instead he looked around the room. Most everyone was laughing, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley who was helping, and Fred and George, Fred in particular. They were watching the stranger as if she was beauty personified. She had long straight black hair, and a dark complexion. Harry thought she looked Spanish, but if he had to place her accent he would have to pick American.

"I enter this room thinking it's my little sister's, Melita, but all these strange redheads are in here, so obviously it's not," the stranger continued. "Then I have to run into you carrying this tray of food. Gees, could our luck be worse? We're only in England to try and get a job in the greatest store in the world. But of course, Melita has to go and land herself in St. Mungo's while we're here. I went to go eat and I can't find her room anywhere!"

Fred moved forward, offering his arm. "May I help you, Senorita? What did she do to land herself in the wonderful St. Mungo's?"

"Well, I kind of gave her a, um, chocolate bar," she answered, taking his arm. "And for some strange reason she broke out in, well, I guess... I would have to call it cerulean blue hair everywhere."

"That's a strange allergic reaction to chocolate," Remus said from the door, right behind Harry.

"Oh, she's not allergic," the woman said brightly. "I put something in it and she was dense enough to eat it!"

"Where were you hoping to get a job?" Harry asked, having a few good guesses.

"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes," she said in a dreamy voice. Harry broke out laughing at the look of utmost surprise on Fred's face. "Don't you dare laugh! They're geniuses! To get a job in that store would make our day, no, week, no... year... no... It would make our lives!"

"Well, good thing you've accepted Fred's arm then," Bill told her. "He doesn't take rejection well."

"Wait, the Fred Weasley?" she choked.

"Fred, this lady's sister will be on this floor, probably down this hall that way," Remus said pointing to the right, "and then take a left into the Accidental Eating Hall. Not sure what the official name is anymore. It may have changed since the last time I was there."

"I'm going too," George said, jumping up. "May as well see your handiwork in action," he told the stranger, taking her other arm. Harry and Remus got out of their way.

"My name's Carmina, call me Mina," she told the twins as they left the room.

"Does that scare anyone else?" Ron asked seriously.

"It scares me tremendously," Charlie answered his brother. "Thia, Tonks, and Remus are bad, and then add the twins. But... add in two more pranksters."

"Should be good times," Ginny said happily. "It's about time those two found some girlfriends."

"But do they have to date girls that are as bad as they are?" Ron asked, almost whining. "I'm the one that gets the brunt of their jokes."

"I think I may have taken that honor from you," Percy said hesitantly. "Hope you don't mind."

"Don't talk to me," Ron said evenly, keeping his temper in check. Harry noticed the hurt on both Percy's and Mrs. Weasley's faces and made a mental note to speak with Ron about it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome back, Mr. Weasley," Professor Burke said the next Thursday. Ron had gotten back late the night before and this was his first class.

"It's nice to be back," Ron answered.

"I hope your friends have been keeping you up to date."

"As if Hermione would let him fall behind," Blaise said softly, making Harry and Sephra laugh.

"They have, sir," Ron answered. "Except for the physical stuff, I'm up to snuff."

"Good, we'll work on that then," Burke said shortly.

"That's what Bryant said," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"It'll be good for you," Harry assured him, though the laughter in his eyes made the comment less genuine.

"Today, though, Mr. Weasley, you are in luck, we will not be working on anything physical. Today, we start picking apart the First War so that we can start to understand and guess what the Dark Lord may do this time around. Take out your copies of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and please read pages four through eight."

Harry took his copy out, and read the five pages. It soon became apparent why the title was not The Rise and Fall of Voldemort; You-Know-Who's and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name's littered the pages. Harry almost threw it down in disgust. No wonder no one could say Voldemort's name, even the wisest and strongest didn't! Of course, to be fair, Harry hadn't been able to say it with ease since June up until a few weeks ago, but at least he had a reason! He wasn't dimwitted or afraid of some unknown monster. He knew what they were fighting.

Finishing the pages before most, Harry started to page through the book. Finding little things that bugged him, it was starting to piss him off. The disregard for proper decorum by printing pictures taken before the destruction had been cleared, including the bodies (with names in the captions) of dead and the writhing dying. Turning to the second to last chapter, Harry skimmed the description of October 31st, 1980. He turned the last page and stared at the cottage in Godric's Hallow. Or rather, what had once been the cottage. The ruins were still smoldering in this picture. Two bodies were lined-up outside, one redhead and one ebony. Lily and James Potter.

Harry snapped his book shut and took a deep breath. Blaise, Sephra, Ron, and Hermione were looking at him oddly, but didn't say anything about it to him. No respect. None! His parents had died so that he could live to save this bloody world, and what do the authors of this book do? Print a picture of their burning, smoldering bodies. The Killing Curse may have killed them, but it didn't stop the burning house from devouring their bodies.

"Mr. Potter, do you have a problem?" Burke asked a few minutes later.

"I just find this a bit tactless," Harry responded, drumming his fingers on the book.

"War is tactless," Burke answered.

"I think we know that," Harry snapped. "Please feel free to rub it in our faces. These are, after all, pictures of our dead or dying loved ones."

"That is war," Burke replied shortly. "Learn to live with it or get out."

It was all Harry could do to remain in his seat. He knew that this picture would now fuse itself into his nightmare about his parents' deaths. He knew that the other pictures would haunt his friends. Why add to the nightmares? So he stood.

"Alright," Harry said. He handed the book to Professor Burke. "I think I've had enough gruesome pictures from Voldemort all of last year, no need to see these. I'm pretty sure The History of the War of Voldemort is a better book anyways, and Thia's already had me read that one. Have a good year, Professor Burke, good day." He turned and started walking toward the door.

"Sit down, Potter," Burke commanded. "You were not excused from the class."

"You told me to leave if I couldn't live with this... disregard for the dead," Harry replied through gritted teeth. He didn't turn to face the professor, not wishing to get angrier. "As I said, we understand war. We all get that war equals pain and suffering, even long after the war has ended."

"None of you get it," Burke said with a sardonic laugh. "You play your little games, thinking that you understand, but you don't."

Harry walked to the Wall of Loss, resting a hand next to the picture of his mum and dad and the other picture of Sirius. It seemed like an eternity since he had placed those pictures up there. There was Sephra's family. Mr. Weasley holding a squirming Bill smiled up at Harry. Nott junior stared from a formal picture. Lucius Malfoy held a small baby, one arm around his wife, and stared out haughtily. A picture of Ron and Ginny playing Wizard Chess last Christmas was next to it. No, Burke was wrong. They understood, thank you very much.

"We do get it," he said softly, staring at the picture of his mum and dad. "Do you see any of the pictures from that book up here? Do you see a picture of the charred remains of my home with my parents' body up here?" The room was deafeningly silent. He heard several students leafing through their books and a few gasps. One sounded a lot like Hermione. "No, of course not. You want to know why? Because, this is what I want to think of when I think of them. Happy, smiling, dancing. Not burnt to a crisp. It's bad enough to have nightmares from that night. And I know I'm not the only one. No one in this room hasn't lost someone. Most of us have fought in battles of some sort, even if it was just for a few minutes in the Second Battle for Hogsmeade. We get it."

"Do you really?" Harry could hear the sarcasm and disdain in the man's voice.

"Yes," Harry replied, deadpan. "Like I said, you don't need horrifying pictures to get a point across. The History of the War of Voldemort is a great example. Maybe you should have them read that instead. Good day, Professor."

"Get back here, Potter!" Burke commanded. "Thirty points from Gryffindor." Harry shrugged and pulled open the door. He turned to look back at Burke. Whatever the man had been planning on saying died on his lips.

"Do as you please."

And Harry left Defense Against the Dark Arts, never to sit in one of the student desks again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Rumor says you quit Defense," Snape said neutrally later that evening. They had been running through Occlumency but it seemed that Snape was ready for a break.

"Rumor would be correct, for once," Harry muttered.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Harry responded. "That room is filled with negative energy. I'm not sure if he's the Burke of Borgin and Burke's, but he sure has a lot of questionable objects in our classroom. His textbook is crap. His teaching style is crap. I don't have enough time as it is, and Thia is a better teacher anyways."

"Just as long as you've thought it through," Snape commented.

"I haven't really," Harry admitted. "I'd just had enough."

"I didn't know you had been having problems with him," Snape said, drinking one of the Butterbeers that Spot had just left for them.

"Me neither," Harry admitted. "Not until I actually looked at the textbook today. There's a way to teach us about the First War without giving us nightmares. Thia managed it last year and this year. Then all the crap he's put us through just didn't seem worth it anymore."

"I see."

"Do you really think you can find the cure for Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, trying to keep hope from his voice.

"I hope more than anything," Snape answered. "I can't think of Hogwarts without him. He's as much a part of this castle and school as the stones are. He's been here ninety-one years, as a teacher and then as Headmaster. She won't be the same when he dies, be it this year or another hundred years from now."

"No," Harry agreed. "No, she won't."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Notes:

Enigmas solved? At least a few them partially solved? None solved at all? I think some progress was made on at least a few of the confusions...

I honestly hadn't planned on a dark past for Dumbledore. There have always been a few things about Dumbledore that have intrigued me: the use of Tom's name, his ability to give second chances, his aloofness from others, and (in this fic) his having Harry sign a slip saying he won't use anything Dumbledore taught him for the Dark... And as I wrote the first paragraph of the rant, I realized a very good explanation was staring me in the face. I talked it over with my beta's, sounded them out, and then wrote it. And, I think it ties up a lot of things quite well. It also gave the suicide that little bit more plausibility. He never followed a Dark Lord; he was too good for that. He never tried to be a Dark Lord; he was too busy learning and teaching, two things that have always interested him.

A huge thanks to chloe_0_o, TCBrownII, ginny2909, Pheonix Run, mouchardchercheur, voceconbrio, and The Wizard Of Joz! Your reviews were much appreciated... I wish they wouldn't have messed up the review thread for 20, I was looking forward to hearing you opinions on it! Do let me know what you think of 21 instead, maybe mention 20 a bit... I'd love you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever...

*thirty minutes later* well, just finished my... er... glance over 22... I honestly didn't mean to read it all... so, finally the blurb to get you to come back:

"Grave Announcement" is the title of the chapter and, indeed, Harry makes a grave announcement, no pun intended. He, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron have a serious conversation about the state of things. And there's some big news in the Weasley family...

That's it... hope you enjoyed chapter 21!

Until Next Time,
Devotedly yours,
Ioci the Nefarious and the Contrite