Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Grave Announcement

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Just another lonely broken hero
Picking up the pieces of my mind
Running out of faith and hope and reason
I'm running out of time...
Underneath my masquerade
A simple man who's so afraid
I try to find a light to guide me home.

Ozzy Osbourne ~ Running Out of Time
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"Mr. Potter, I would like to speak with you in my office," Professor McGonagall told him the next morning. Harry nodded and stood, even though he could think of at least two things he'd rather be doing during breakfast.

Shacklebolt had joined the early morning, physical training lessons because Bryant was busy working with Ginny and Ron, building their endurance back up. Harry and Shacklebolt had squared off all morning, Hermione opting to work with the other three. Harry hadn't felt this bruised and battered since the start of the year. All he wanted right now was a huge meal and a long shower.

Instead, he found himself walking out of the Great Hall to his Head's office. She held the door open for him, closing it once he was inside. She sat down behind her desk and stared at Harry across it.

"You quit Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she asked. He nodded, but continued when she waited for him to explain.

"Yes, I did," he answered. "He offered, and I accepted. Is there a problem?"

"For one, you have to clear a dropped class through your Head first," she answered. "Second, the Auror program will not take a Defense drop-out."

"As if they'll care," Harry said bitterly. "They'll just be happy that they got the Boy Who Lived. And anyways, I'm not sure if that's what I want to do anymore. Not to mention that if I took the N.E.W.T. today, I could pass it with flying colors."

"You are a role model as Head Boy," she argued.

"The students can look at my schedule," Harry replied. "No student works harder than I do at this school." McGonagall leaned back in her chair, and appraised Harry thoughtfully. "Professor, I need more time for homework. Professor Burke's class is levels below me, and, with all the other lessons I take, I'll be fine."

"I'm not arguing against you, Mr. Potter," she finally said. "I just wanted to make sure you had thought this through and understood just what you were doing. I'm not sure if it is the best thing for you to do in the long run, but it is in the short term. Now, go eat."

Harry hurried back to the Great Hall, grabbing toast as the bell rang. Following Hermione and Ron out the door, Harry was glad he had two hours to work on his Transfiguration essay after Care of Magical Creatures. McGonagall seemed to be in a foul mood, though he couldn't figure out why.

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The news of Harry's walkout and subsequent drop of Defense Against the Dark Arts was all the school talked about for the next several days. For once, Harry didn't mind; as long as he was answering questions about that, he didn't have to avoid questions about Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was alive, though exhausted and sickly. He was still teaching Harry, who was moving ahead faster than either of them had expected. Dumbledore seemed extremely pleased about that. Watching him in the Great Hall, Harry had caught both worried frowns and contented smiles on the old man's face (and he did look old). Dumbledore couldn't care for his students or this school more than he already did, it just wasn't possible.

Harry was also pleased with the D.A. Their willingness to work harder and longer had not diminished when they realized just how much harder and longer they would have to work. He had told them that a missed lesson here or there was no problem, but no one had taken him up on that. Their skills were noticeably increasing with the longer hours. Thankfully, Burke had been unable to supervise any meetings; Harry wasn't sure how the man would act during a D.A. meeting. He thought that McGonagall was just as worried about Burke as Harry was and she supervised them all herself. After the D.A. lesson on Thursday, McGonagall had given Harry a look that left him wondering what it meant.

Ginny and he were also talking a lot. They both had much to say and much to hear. They spoke of their worry for Dumbledore, how his death would affect the war effort and the school, and how Ginny was recuperating. Harry could tell that there were still a few demons that haunted the time the two spent together. Yet, Harry couldn't help but feel that in time, everything would be as perfect as he could expect.

Harry also couldn't remember ever sleeping so soundly in the past few years. He was so exhausted that his mind gave him the sleep he needed. Of course, several other things could also be the cause. His Occlumency shields, that guarded against his subconscious, were stronger than ever. Professor Snape's hypothesis proved to be true: Harry's run away magic had been feeding the nightmares. Now that he knew he had to keep the Shield up, the nightmares did not feel as real or as horrifying as before. Finally, reviewing the memories in the Pensieve had helped him more than he had expected. He could pick the dreams apart and understand why things had happened the way they had.

The one thing Harry had been dreading more than anything happened that Friday. Dumbledore and Harry were running through exercises designed to test Harry's ability to prevent someone, in this case Dumbledore, from stealing magic.

"Very good," Dumbledore complimented after this exercise finished.

"Will it be harder against Voldemort?" Harry asked, sitting down and taking a drink of lemonade. Dumbledore sat next to him, sipping from his own glass of lemonade.

"No, it shouldn't be more difficult," Dumbledore answered. "The only advantage Tom has over me at the moment is experience."

"When you're too weak--" Harry stopped, unsure as to how to continue asking what he wanted. It didn't seem proper.

"When I'm too weak to teach you, what should you do?" Dumbledore supplied, both men knowing that it would be much more than weakness separating them soon. "I've been arranging that over the past two months. Continue your lessons with Thia and Druce; they will be stepping up your training after Christmas. As for the Theory, Fawkes will be able to help you with the practical application."

Harry looked over at the phoenix. Not once had Fawkes even chirped--let alone sing--while Harry had been within hearing distance. The memory of how unaffected he had been last summer still haunted Harry's dreams. It was one of the few things that managed to get past all his defenses at night. Not exactly a nightmare, it was also not a peaceful dream. Fawkes returned his gaze, blinking his eyes slowly.

"Don't worry, Harry, he will be able to help you," Dumbledore assured him. "A phoenix is an excellent judge of character. When a phoenix gives up on a person, all hope is lost. Fawkes has not abandoned you yet, and I doubt he ever will."

"Thank you," he said softly, not sure if he was talking to the bird or the man. He had a strange feeling that it was both.

"Now, as to the theory," Dumbledore continued, handing Harry two slips of parchment, one with writing on both sides, "here is a list of books that I trust, you will find them in the library. As you can see, I've written a summary of each book. On the other side are the titles of books that are mostly myth. Any books not appearing on the list are ones dealing in the Dark Arts that you should avoid. You'll find that there are two books that I do want you to read, however, these are Dark books. I've underlined them." The wise man leaned over and pointed to the two titles. "They contain everything Tom has been known to do, and a few things that I'm sure he's aware of. Read them carefully, but do not use the techniques found in them."

A determined look came over Dumbledore's face as he continued. "The only reason I have given you written authorization to enter the restricted area of the library," he said, indicating the second piece of parchment, "and to read these books, is so that you can prepare your defense and offense against Tom. I hold you to your oath."

"Of course," Harry said with a nod, skimming through the information.

"Remus has always been interested in this, so he is another good source," Dumbledore continued. "Harry, I have a question I would like to ask of you."

"Go ahead," he encouraged when the other didn't continue.

"I have named you as my heir," Dumbledore finally said. "You have been a grandson to me, and your parents were like family. Is that alright?"

"I--I--," Harry said, stunned. "Of course, sir. Is there anything I need to know about?"

"I want to die and have my ashes released here," Dumbledore said seriously. Harry nodded, expecting that. "The Ministry and others will wish to move me to St. Mungo's but do not let them. Between you and Aberforth, it won't happen. Second, everything of mine will be yours, with a few exceptions. I leave my Pensieve in your capable care. My memories in there will not fade, nor will they lie. If you ever need to know anything, check them. Third, this war will fall more and more onto your shoulders. Minerva and the Order will do all they can to shelter you, so that you can continue to study, but be prepared for the pressure."

"What do you think I should expect?" he asked.

"Anything from pressure to end the war, to being asked to lead the Aurors, to even more fame," Dumbledore answered. "Don't give in to anything that doesn't feel right. Leave the Aurors in Thia's capable hands, train your students, and finish preparing yourself. Only when you believe that you are ready will you be ready." He took out a familiar bag. "Lemon drop?" Harry looked at the bag, shaking in Dumbledore's trembling grasp.

"Yes, thanks," he said, accepting. As Harry reached across to unstick one, Dumbledore went completely ridged, his lips tightly compressed, but his eyes screaming agony. Harry carefully laid him on the floor and floo-ed for Snape and then Pomfrey. The poison had progressed to the next stage.

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The next morning, Harry was sitting in the Infirmary, speaking with Aberforth, Pomfrey, Lemon, Vance, McGonagall, and Snape. Outside, down at the Quidditch pitch, students were starting to filter into the stands for the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw game. Soon McGonagall and Snape would need to leave to supervise, McGonagall having to carry down the Quidditch balls that were in her care.

"We're agreed then," Harry finally said after a few minutes of silent thought. "Dumbledore stays here, dies here, and his ashes are released here."

"Of course," Aberforth agreed.

"You two shouldn't give up so easily," Snape admonished them stubbornly.

"Professor," Harry said quietly, "I think you need to respect his acceptance of this fate. Continue to work on the antidote, but, unless you come up with the cure in the next two weeks..." Harry let the sentence hang.

After a few more minutes of silent staring toward the end of the hospital wing where Dumbledore lay, Lemon spoke. "And that's if the point of no return has not been passed. There's no way to know until you test, and you have no time for testing, Severus."

"Albus has lived a life to be proud of," Minerva sniffed. "We can only honor him."

"Harry, he wanted you to announce this to the school," Aberforth told him. "He thought the students would take the news best from you."

"When?" Harry asked, knowing that as Dumbledore's heir, it was his responsibility.

"After the game, we will call an assembly," McGonagall told him. "There will be Press here as well; they have been informed that an important announcement will be made. It is up to you on how to tell everyone."

The game was short, the weather freezing and overcast. No one grumbled about the thirty minute game, because everyone wanted to head inside. After the snitch was caught, McGonagall announced that an assembly was to be held at noon and everyone was required to attend. Harry quickly changed the D.A. meeting to two, instead of the already scheduled noon lesson. The hour before the assembly grated on Harry's nerves. He just wanted to get it over with, but they had to wait for the Press and other important people to arrive. Finally, eleven thirty came and Harry hurried down to the Great Hall to see what was going on.

"I'm going to introduce you, announce his retirement, and then you can tell them what you wish," Professor McGonagall explained. "Just sit here until then." Harry took a seat next to Aberforth, who looked a few years older than he had this morning. It had to be hard, losing a brother this way. Swallowing that poison had saved everyone in the Great Hall that night, everyone but one: Dumbledore's own life.

He turned to look out at the Great Hall. The tables had been moved to the edges of the room, and row after row of chairs filled the large space. A few reporters and several important people already sat in the first few rows, looking around interested. At the front, where Harry was now sitting, they had set up a low platform, chairs on either side of a podium. He fidgeted slightly, trying not to get too nervous. The Heads of House sat up front next to him, along with a few other professors, Althea, Lemon, Vance, and of course, Aberforth.

The students started to file in about ten 'til noon. They looked confused and worried. Harry knew that some of them had noticed Dumbledore's absence at supper and breakfast, not to mention the Quidditch game. Dumbledore hadn't missed a game since Harry's first year, so his absence was quite obvious. Blaise caught Harry's gaze, arching an eyebrow in question. Harry mouthed 'Wait.' Blaise shrugged and took a seat near the front and next to Sephra. Ron and Hermione sat next to those two, saving a seat for Ginny. All the people Harry considered good friends sat in the same row, watching him, silently asking him what was going on. Harry wished he wasn't the one who had to tell them. If it hadn't been so important to keep the poisoning a secret, Harry would have been angry at the headmaster.

Then again, could he be angry at Dumbledore? When he was slowly dying, lying in the hospital wing, the agony so much that Pomfrey had given him a dose of the Draught of Living Death so that he would have some relief. Even with that potion, Dumbledore's body still twitched and spasmed. Harry closed his eyes, seeing the once strong man reduced to the skeleton-thin, pale, and pain-ridden man that he was now. Harry's shoulders stooped with the weight he knew was now slowly settling on his own shoulders. Time to stand tall and face the music. Voldemort was not going to get away with this.

"May I have everyone's attention?" McGonagall said from the podium at exactly noon. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at her. "We have called this assembly and press conference to make a few announcements and to take any questions." Harry watched as she paused, collecting herself.

"I have grave news to share with you this day. Professor Albus Dumbledore has retired from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts." Chatter broke out, several people shouting. "Quiet, please?" she asked, her voice firm. The students fell silent at once, the visitors following their lead. "To explain further to you is Harry Potter, this year's Head Boy. If you'd come up, Harry." She motioned him to come forward and he stood, head held high, but with a weariness that he couldn't keep from his eyes.

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Ginny watched Harry from her seat amongst the crowd. He had been silent all evening and morning, hardly spending anytime with them. All he had to say was 'It happened' and they all knew what he meant. Hermione had run off to the Library, researching Lily Potter's family line. Harry had told her several weeks ago that Dumbledore had dropped a hint about that and Hermione had taken on the challenge. Though it wouldn't save Dumbledore, it was something to distract herself with. Ron followed her, not really wanting to help with the research, but needing to be with her all the same. Ginny had spent the time waiting for Harry to get back, knowing that she couldn't follow him into the meetings he had been called to.

Harry looked... not tired, not defeated... just... saddened. She hadn't been able to see Dumbledore, but from Harry's hasty description earlier in the morning, she knew it wasn't pretty. Harry and Dumbledore had gotten close since their fight ended in September. She suspected it was because Harry had realized just how much they had in common. He was watching everyone enter, his shoulders hunching slightly, again, not in defeat, but in sadness. This was hurting him so much. What would Harry do without Dumbledore's protection from wizarding Britain? They had better not demand for Harry to end it now, instead of waiting until he's ready!

"I have grave news to share with you this day. Professor Albus Dumbledore has retired from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts." Ginny looked from Harry to McGonagall, surprised. She hadn't thought about the fact that Dumbledore would retire. She had expected McGonagall to be substitute headmistress until Dumbledore died, like she had been during Dumbledore's other absences. Retirement... Dumbledore was calling it quits. Had he given up? Or did he think that even if he survived he'd never be able to be headmaster again? She found herself wishing that she knew enough about healing and potion creation to create a cure. She had no hope to do it, not for years. If Uncle Severus couldn't do it, no one could. He was the best in the world at antidote creation.

"Quiet, please?" McGonagall asked, her voice firm. Ginny noticed the instant silence of the students. The visitors took a few more moments to quiet down, and in those seconds, Harry had taken a deep calming breath. "To explain further to you is Harry Potter, this year's Head Boy. If you'd come up, Harry." The professor motioned him to come forward and he stood. Ginny could see the sadness oozing from him. Why was he making this announcement? He stood straight and proud, carefully masking the weariness from those who didn't know him well enough to see it.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said politely as McGonagall took a seat up front. "As Dumbledore's heir, I have been given the task of making another announcement." Harry stopped to run a hand through his hair. He was Dumbledore's heir? Since when? This statement caught several people off guard, including most of the people sitting on the platform. Harry gulped stiffly and plowed on, the sadness returning. "Professor Dumbledore ingested Tiapin poison on October the thirty-first." The crowd erupted into talking, this time the shouts were louder, and some people had started crying. Ginny noticed that some members of the Press were writing furiously, while many others just sat there, stunned.

"In a show of strength, he has been able to keep the poison from affecting his daily routine until yesterday afternoon," Harry continued once things had settled down. He paused, his face down. Ginny itched to go up their and hold him, to help him in any way possible. This wasn't fair! He shouldn't have to make this announcement! He was only a young man hardly out of boyhood! He shouldn't have to tell everyone that their hero was dying! That his mentor was dying! She felt a hand on her clenched fists and looked up at Hermione.

"Calm, Ginny," Ron mouthed from the other side of Hermione. Ginny closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and listened as Harry continued.

"He is in the Hospital wing in an induced comma. He has asked to be allowed to stay here until his death. Furthermore, he requests that his ashes be spread over the school and grounds." Harry stopped once more, his head bowed. He looked up; anger in his eyes, but only someone that knew Harry well would have seen it. Ginny looked around to see who Harry was staring at, and saw a smirking Malfoy.

"We believe that Mr. Theodore Nott Junior was the one to have brought the poison onto campus," Harry continued softly, his face taking a more ragged look. "We also know that Mr. Draco Malfoy was the one to place it in my drink. At this time the Aurors wish to take him into custody for questioning." There was a slight pause as several Aurors stepped forward and escorted Malfoy from the Hall. "The Headmaster knew that Nott and Malfoy were planning this and decided to take the only action he could think of. As many of you know, this poison, if not ingested within 36 hours of its completion, becomes an air born toxin fifty times more deadly than the breath of a Nundu. Malfoy had informed Professor Dumbledore that thirty-one of the hours were up at the start of the feast. By the time Dumbledore drank the poison, over thirty-five hours had elapsed." Harry stopped and took a deep breath. Ginny noticed that his hands clutched to the podium for support. She exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione. This was killing him.

"He took the poison to save not only my life, but each of his students' lives," Harry continued. "This school is his home and each student that has passed through here since he started teaching is his family. He is more than willing to die for Hogwarts and her students." He bowed his head for a few seconds, and Ginny knew he was thinking. He looked up at McGonagall who nodded.

"At this time, I'll welcome questions from anyone who has one," Harry offered, and several hands and much shouting erupted. "Miss Skeeter?"

Rita Skeeter stood up, a wicked look on her face. "You say Mr. Malfoy put the poison in your cup." Harry nodded, and Ginny could see the hurt and pain in his well-guarded eyes. "Why didn't you drink it?"

"Professor Dumbledore said he was on the way to get his own, but he took mine instead," Harry answered softly. "I was out dancing when Malfoy put it in my drink and had just returned to my table when the Headmaster came over." He answered before Rita could ask. "Mr. Mente?"

"Is there a connection between the poisoning of the youngest Weasley children and the Headmaster?"

"We believe, and by we I mean the Heads of House, Commander Black, several Aurors, and the Minister believe that it was just a distraction. If successful would have been nice, if not, oh well. Everyone would be worried about the two Weasleys and not notice the early signs of the Tiapin poison." Harry's answer was filled with pain. "Again, Mr. Mente?"

"Is there a connection between these three poisonings and yourself?"

"Most likely, yes," Harry answered. "Voldemort has made it clear over the past year or so that a friend of mine is an enemy of his and thus a target. I've also gotten word from Voldemort that Dumbledore's death is a warning for me. The person in the red robes right there."

"Why would You-Know-Who want to send you a warning?" a wrinkled old man asked. Ginny watched as Harry glanced back at McGonagall and Snape. McGonagall shrugged, and Snape didn't react at all to Harry's unasked question.

"There is a Prophecy connecting him and me," Harry finally answered. Ginny was impressed that Harry would admit that to the entire world, even if they had heard the rumors already.

"What does that Prophecy say?" Skeeter asked, standing up out of turn.

"The contents of the Prophecy are classified," Harry answered firmly. "Voldemort only knows that there is a connection between the two of us, he does not know the exact wording. I protected it for weeks under torture, so don't think you'll get it out of me this day."

"How long have you been Dumbledore's heir?" Blaise asked after standing and being called upon.

"He told me yesterday, before the poison had advanced further," Harry answered. "Aberforth and others tell me that he named me his heir last year." There were several other questions and Harry answered every one of them. Ginny watched him, worried for him. She could tell he hadn't slept well the night before. Finally, McGonagall stood up, thanked everyone for coming, and informed the students that lunch would start at 1:30. Ginny pushed her way through the crowd going the other way. Finally she reached Harry, pulling him into a hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"That was bloody near impossible," he muttered.

"Why you?" she asked. "Why not McGonagall or Aberforth?"

"His heir," Harry answered, not bothering with a complete sentence. It obviously made sense to him, even if she was still slightly confused by it. "I'm going to go sit with him, want to come?" he asked.

Ginny nodded, pulling away and taking his hand. The Great Hall was empty of all but a few professors who were setting the tables back. They walked together, hand in hand, up to the hospital wing. Harry slowly pushed the door open and led her to Dumbledore. Ginny just stared at the once energetic man. He was wasting away and twitching in pain. Hadn't Harry said this morning that Dumbledore had been given a dose of the Living Death? The fact he was twitching showed just how much agony he was in. It took immense pain to show through that sleeping draft.

She brushed a lock of hair off the man's face, a tear leaking down her cheek. This was just cruel. No one should die this way, slowly and in pain. Dumbledore deserved a peaceful death or a quick and glorious death in battle. Anything but this wasting agony.

"This is horrible," she said softly, sitting on Harry's knee. He pulled her closer, a hand running through her hair. "I thought being surprised with my Dad was awful, I didn't have a chance to say goodbye or anything, but I'd rather have that than this. At least there was no pain for my Dad, but--" she choked on her tears.

"This isn't fair," Harry finished for her, a tear or two of his own mingling with hers. "I never got a chance to say bye either," he added after a few minutes. "I was going to yesterday, at least tell him how much he meant to me, but--" he stopped to clear his throat. "He passed out before I could."

"He knew," Ginny assured him. "He knows."

"So does your dad," Harry told her. "This sucks. Sitting here, waiting for him to die. It almost seems horrible, just letting him die like this."

"But, maybe Uncle Severus can come up with a cure," Ginny said earnestly. Harry realized how natural the familial title came off her tongue. Snape was, whether he liked it or not, a Weasley now.

"Lemon thinks it will most likely be too late," Harry answered softly.

"This is awful," Hermione said from behind them. Ginny looked over Harry's shoulder at her brother and best friend. Ron stood behind Hermione, his arms wrapped around her shoulders protectively. With a wave of Harry's wand another armchair appeared and the two sat in it. "He deserves so much more."

"Yeah," Ron said gruffly. Ginny could see the tears pooled up in his eyes, but she knew he wouldn't let anyone here see them. Well, maybe Hermione, but that was it.

"I want him to live through Christmas," Harry said after a few minutes. "Hogwarts has such a beauty around that day."

"We're staying this year, right?" Ginny asked softly.

"Yeah, and your family will be staying in some of the spare rooms," Harry answered. "Hermione, you're supposed to invite your parents here. Mrs. Weasley wants to have a huge family Christmas this year. And by family, I think she means anyone who we know really well."

"Snape's going to hate it," Ron said with a laugh.

"You can't force him to come," Hermione scolded.

"Oh, but we are," Harry said with a small smile. "It'll be good for him."

"The twins say they have something planned for him," Ginny mused aloud.

"Why does that scare me?" Hermione asked.

"Because surprises from the twins tend to be either embarrassing or dangerous or some combination of both," Harry responded with a laugh. "And Professor Snape doesn't handle any of those things well."

"Though, that would be amusing," Ron said with a laugh. "Just imagine Snape chasing the twins on Christmas. Ha! That'll be great." Harry chuckled, but it died down when his eyes rested on Dumbledore.

Ginny tightened her arms around his waist. Would last Christmas be the only Christmas nothing strange or odd happened? But that wasn't right either. Sephra had arrived at the Burrow injured. Then there was the First Battle for Hogsmeade. Harry had had a vision of a Death Eater meeting Christmas Eve and the Death Parade started during the week after.

"Have we ever had a normal Christmas?" Ron asked, echoing his sister's thoughts.

"I don't think so," Harry answered. "I was just thinking about that."

"Our first year was normal, wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "I went home and you two just lazed around here."

"No, I found the Mirror of Erised," Harry said. "That was more than a bit upsetting."

"And didn't a book yell at you?" Ron asked.

"Oh yeah, it did," Harry said in surprise. "I'd forgotten that."

"Hogwarts won't be the same without him," Hermione said after a few moments of silence. "It doesn't even seem possible to have Hogwarts without him." The others nodded in agreement, Harry tightening his grip around Ginny.

"I'm so overwhelmed by that thought," Harry finally whispered into her hair. Ginny looked up to see his face, a frown on her lips. "No Dumbledore to go to if I'm lost or need to know something. I went to the Order meeting last night, and became a member. The important meetings will be held here and someone will brief me about any meetings held at Grimmauld. I might get permission to leave even. But I'm not ready for the real world. And to prepare without him... he gave me instructions before he collapsed, but... without him I feel lost."

"You'll be fine," Ron said, his voice strong. "Just follow what he told you and you'll be fine."

"I know," Harry said, his voice drifting off.

"What?" Ginny asked, able to sense that there was something after that.

"What if the wizarding world doesn't let me finish?" he asked. "Who will stand up for me so that I can study without dealing with it? None of the professors have enough clout, not even McGonagall. Hardly anyone at the Ministry will support me. Thia has enough problems as it is; I don't want to add another! I know she will try to help, but... she can only do so much! Protecting me when everyone else wants me to end the war will not go over well with her bosses. And Vance can only protect Thia for so long. We need Thia in that position! I can't lose her her job!" Ginny felt Harry take a deep breath, but it wasn't meant to calm him down, just to allow him to continue.

"When they asked me if the poisonings had anything to do with me, I felt like crap. Yes, my best friend and girlfriend were poisoned because of me, thank you for pointing that out. And yes, as was my mentor, again, thanks for pointing that out. And yes, there is a Prophecy that dooms Voldemort to target me and all who I love, again thank you for making me feel like dragon dung. Anything else?" Harry took a deep breath through his nose, and Ginny pulled away. It wasn't that the rant was unexpected, but she hadn't expected the amount of bitterness it held.

"What's bothering you, Harry?" she asked again, noticing how tense he was.

"Voldemort," he answered softly, staring up at the ceiling so that he could avoid everyone's eyes. Ginny wasn't going to have any of that and pulled his chin down. She arched an eyebrow in question and Harry sighed. "I've been having conversations with him at night. Well, no, just last night and when I was unconscious for a few days. It really feels like we're equals in this... place. Remember last year, when I passed out after a Quidditch practice and was trapped in some type of white room?" The others nodded.

"That was the time when thinking about me got you out, right?" Ginny asked and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, well, it's basically the same place, but this time we're both sitting." He went on and explained everything. "Last night he just wanted to gloat. One more step closer to killing the great Dumbledore. It just makes me sick. Voldemort used Dumbledore's greatest strength and turned it into his greatest weakness."

"There was no way he wouldn't have drank that," Hermione said in agreement.

"Why'd they arrest Malfoy?" Ginny asked. "Isn't it better to keep him around? Better the spy you know than the spy you don't."

"We had to do something," Harry said with a shrug. "We didn't want to add it to Nott's list of charges, because the evidence we have, my memory, points directly to Malfoy. And... I don't feel comfortable letting him get away with this. Dumbledore might be hoping that Malfoy hasn't set his sights on a future as a Dark Lord, but most of us at the meeting last night, well, everyone that knows Draco, are afraid he has."

"So Azkaban will either save him or embitter him," Ron commented. "I might not like the git, but I hope it saves him. I want a break between wars."

"Me too," Hermione agreed. Ginny nodded, nestling her head against Harry's chest. They fell into silence, each watching the dying man. Althea and Pomfrey came out from their offices and went to check the headmaster over. Ginny uncurled from Harry's lap and offered them her help. She couldn't do much, for there wasn't much to do. However, she could watch and learn from them.

Ginny had always been a fighter. You had to be with six older brothers. Tom Riddle in the diary had always told her that she was a stubborn little thing. In the end though, that hadn't been enough. He still had won. Last spring he had won again, and used her to get to Harry... again...

Althea coaxed another dose of the Sleeping Death potion into Dumbledore and then the two healers retreated to their offices again. Ginny moved forward to hold his hand.

She owed a lot to this man.

Over the years, as guilt bothered her, Dumbledore had always been willing to talk. She'd had so much baggage concerning the events of her first year. He always made sure she knew his password, assuring her that the door was always open and his ear was always willing to listen. As the years passed, they talked of more things than the events of her first year. Every year, something new came up. One time, her... was it third year or fourth... her third year she had even talked to him about her crush on Harry. They had come up with the plan of dating other people to make him jealous. She wasn't sure if it had actually worked... but... in the end, did it matter? She had gotten her guy and once again became bait for the trap.

Bait...

That's what she always became. She couldn't fight long enough or hard enough to avoid that fate. It always happened. She had to go along on the rescue mission to make sure Harry came back in one piece. Sure, she hadn't done the greatest job at that, but Sephra had needed more help and there had been nothing she could do for Harry. She always failed Harry. But Dumbledore didn't think that. He said she was a healer.

A Healer...

Ginny wished with all her heart that there was something for her to do to help him. Whether it was to ease his last days or cure him, she didn't care. Anything to return the favor.

To return the favor...

She felt the tears fall swiftly down her cheeks. He had given her so much. Self worth, self esteem, self love. He had allowed her to take a healing class with Althea even though it wasn't really allowed and she should have taken Arithmancy. Harry's strong arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she molded her body to his left side.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, brushing the tears from her eyes.

"He's done so much for me," she answered, fighting the tears. She wouldn't cry, not now! He wasn't even dead yet, there was still hope! "Helped me so much and all I can do is sit here and watch him suffer. I hate this. I want to help him!"

"We all do," Hermione told her softly. "Being here is the best we can do. Love is a very strong force."

"That it is," Harry agreed.

"As is hope," Ron added, looking at his watch. "It's almost two; we've got a D.A. meeting to go to."

"I'd forgotten," Harry admitted. "Let's go." Ginny squeezed Dumbledore's hand, letting it fall limply to his side.

"Alright." She followed the others out, pausing in the doorway. At the far end of the hall the wizened body trembled in pain. With a sniff, she closed the door, praying that someone would give him peace.

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

"Ginny, I have homework to do," Harry complained the next Tuesday.

"Just come with me, you need a break," Ginny begged, tugging on his arm playfully. Harry did his best to ignore her, staring at the sheets of spells he had learnt from Althea recently. She wanted him to write an essay for the next day's lesson and Ginny was not helping. He appreciated everyone's try at lightening the mood, but there was such a thing as trying too hard.

"I need to get this done," Harry finally told her, looking up and over at her. "I don't have 'til Thursday to finish this, Gin, it's due tomorrow."

"You skipped lunch," she whined. "Just come with me. Please." He looked into her eyes, and sighed. Whatever she was up to was not going to wait.

"You'll take Althea's wrath if I don't finish this tonight?" he asked, putting his stuff away.

"I'll write it for you," Ginny offered, excited. He swung the bag over his shoulder, and followed her out the door. He slowed down as he realized where she was leading him.

"Ginny, we're not supposed to leave Hogwarts," he chided, looking at the statue of a hunchbacked witch. Ginny smiled, gave the password, and slid down. Harry groaned and followed after.

"What took you so long?" Tonks asked, her wand lit so that they could see.

"Harry was being studious," Ginny complained. Remus laughed, starting to walk towards Hogsmeade.

"So this has been sanctioned?" Harry asked, following the others.

"Well..." Remus turned to look back at him. "You could say that. I mean, my sister doesn't know... but... I've said you can, and Tonks said you could... so..."

"So in true Marauder fashion, we're leaving campus," Harry said with a laugh. "Alright." They walked along the dark corridor, stooped over for most of the way. Remus took a new turn, standing up straight. "What's this?" Harry asked, staring at the new stonework.

"Well, of course, the twins wanted to be connected with Hogwarts, and dug themselves into the tunnel," Tonks answered as if this was obvious. "Thia and Dumbledore only agreed with it because it gives us another exit connected to an Order member's property." They started up the broad stairs, Remus opening a door. Harry saw the hallway in the back of the twins' store. Remus led them across the way and into an office.

"Stay here," he told them, leaving the room. "Fred, George, Tonks is here!" Remus' voice shouted.

"Lee, can you hold the shop?" George's voice shouted.

"Sure thing, boss!" Lee Jordan shouted.

"Mina! Melita! Come take a break with us!" Fred shouted.

"No snogging," a familiar voice shouted back, right as the door opened. The woman from St. Mungo's came in, followed by some one that was obviously her sister, the twins, and Remus.

"Ginny, this is Carmina," Fred said, wrapping an arm around the woman from the hospital.

"And this is Carmelita," George said, wrapping his arm around the shorter one.

"Mina and Melita," Carmina said. "Please, only Mama can get away with full names." Harry looked at the two sisters. Mina was taller and more athletic looking than her sister, and Harry could tell she was more than a match for Fred's energy level. Melita seemed more reserved, slightly smaller, but also wider (but not in a bad way!) than her sister. Mina was, compared to her sister, paler (but much darker than either of the twins), her hair dark brown instead of ebony black.

"Wait, you've got girlfriends?" Ginny asked. "This is the big surprise? You found two ladies crazy enough to date you! No offense, Mina, Melita."

"None taken," Melita assured her. "You must be the famous Ginny Weasley. It is an honor to meet you. The boys here all speak highly of you."

"Lee says you're the only one the twins are afraid of pranking," Mina added with a laugh.

"You'd better believe that!" Ginny replied laughing. Harry couldn't remember the last time she had laughed this much. And it wasn't the forced laughter that he had been hearing the past few days. It was genuine and vivacious. "I'd bat-bogey hex them into next month!"

"And you must be Harry," Mina said, shaking both of their hands. "Remus speaks most fondly of you."

"Stop mocking correct English," Fred mock-chided the two. Mina just stuck her tongue out at him, dodging out of his reach.

"So, where are you from?" Harry asked.

"Well," Mina answered. "Mama is a witch from Brazil."

"And our dad is a muggle from the States," Melita said.

"And he was in the military, which is how they met," Mina continued.

"So we've been everywhere, well, this is the first time we've lived in Britain," Melita told them.

"Are you twins?" Ginny asked, her eyes looking from one to the other.

"Yes, we are," Mina said with a laugh. "I'm the oldest one, and Melita is younger."

"Non-identical, as you can very well tell," Melita explained without need. "It took these two three days to figure out that we're twins."

"Well, I've had to grow up with them, so I've gotten used to all the 'twiny' things that they do," Ginny explained. "They're too close to the... er... 'twin thing' to realize that they are different."

"Okay, little imp, er sister," Fred said, wrapping an arm around Ginny's shoulder.

"Dearest sis, come with us," George said, attaching to Ginny's other side, and leading her out of the room.

"They have family things to discuss," Remus answered Harry's unasked question. "I think Christmas gifts or some such thing."

"Okay," Harry said with a shrug. "Are you enjoying it here?" he asked the girls.

"Loving it," Melita answered. "Britain is amazing!"

"Working here is amazing," Mina continued. "We've been trying to get jobs in the development of joke products for years now, but no luck."

"But the twins were impressed with the chocolate-with-a-side-effect idea, and we're working on the antidote so that we can sell it," Melita added. "We're also working on other side-effects. Got any ideas?"

"How about a no-hair result?" he suggested.

"Brilliant!" Melita exclaimed. She and Mina conversed for a bit, writing things down on some parchment. Remus cleared his throat and the two women looked up, startled.

"We have company," he told them, motioning towards Harry. "This is not the time for play."

"So you've done a lot of traveling," Harry commented, aware that everyone was now looking at him and waiting for him to say something.

"Yeah, we went to five different wizarding schools," Mina explained. "And we've been traveling since we moved away from home four years ago."

"How old are you?" Ginny asked from the doorway.

"We turn twenty-two on the fifth of January," Melita answered.

"You both have no excuse for forgetting," Harry told Fred and George. "Melita and Mina are born on the same day and you can't let the other forget, understood?"

"Yes, sir," George agreed, saluting Harry.

"That's all wrong!" Melita called out. She showed him how to salute properly, causing everyone else to break down in laughter. "One more time. Perfect!"

"Particularly since you can't ruin this 'cause no one else out there would be brave enough to date you two," Ginny teased her brothers.

"Wait, I thought it was crazy enough to date them," Harry commented, earning him dirty looks from everyone in the room, the smiles hidden in their mock anger. "Okay, guess not."

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet article about you?" George asked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"No, I've been putting it off," he admitted.

"Good, 'cause it's just the normal rubbish, but the Quibbler is actually a good one, take a look," George tossed the magazine over and Harry caught it.

Grave News From Hogwarts:
Torch Is Passed To The Next Generation

Last Saturday at noon, Professor Mc-
Gonagall, Deputy-Headmistress at Hog-
warts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
invited various members of the com-
munity to Hogwarts for what she called
a 'grave announcement'. She informed
us that Albus Dumbledore had retired from
his post as Headmaster at the school. To
say the least, this announcement surprised
everyone, from the smallest first year to
the oldest friend of the Professor. However,
nothing could have prepared us for the
Head Boy and current seventh year at Hog-
warts, Harry Potter's next announcement.

Albus Dumbledore, defeater of the Dark
Wizard Grindelwald, had swallowed Tiapin
Poison to save the lives of his students on
October thirty-first. Mr. Potter had the hard
task of informing us that Albus Dumbledore
now lay in a hospital bed, in extreme agony
and dying. Informing us of Dumbledore's
last request, Mr. Potter kept his composure.
On closer examination, though, it seemed as
if the young man had aged since the last
time I had seen him.

Another surprising turn of events, Mr. Draco
Malfoy, previous seventh year at Hogwarts,
was taken into custody and will be questioned
in connection with the poisoning. This is the
second Hogwarts student arrested in a month.
Mr. Potter and Thia Black, Commander of the
Aurors of Britain, both assured me that Hog-
warts was safe for students. I find myself hop-
ing that no more of her students have turned
against us. To ruin one's life at such a young
age is the gravest mistakes.

So this leaves us with one question: Who will
take his place? The Hogwarts' governors have
already announced that Professor Minerva Mc-
Gonagall, currently the Deputy-Headmistress,
Head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration profess-
sor, will take over as Headmistress. She has al-
ready put out a help wanted ad for a new trans-
figureations professor to take her place. But,
more importantly, who will take over as the
leader against Voldemort?

"There is a Prophecy connecting [Voldemort]
and me," Mr. Potter had answered on Satur-
day. The question posed asked why Volde-
mort had been targeting Mr. Potter's friends
and family. Declining to tell us what the con-
tents were (while also informing us that his
capture last spring was for Voldemort to try
find out what the contents were) Mr. Potter
accepted the responsibility as the ultimate
target. Rumors have been circulating that he
is the one to fight Voldemort and overcome
the monster. It seems that those rumors are
--for once-- true. Has Mr. Potter accepted
the leadership of this war as well?

"No, he hasn't," answered Commander Black
later that Saturday. "He is concentrating on
his school work and preparing for a final con-
frontation with Voldemort, but he is not taking
over the leadership of this war." Then who
will? Another comment Mr. Potter made while
speaking with me struck me as interesting.

"This is a war not between some great demi-
gods, but between normal people like you and
me. Voldemort's Death Eaters are attacking our
families, our friends, and our neighbors. It is
our responsibility to fight this war. If we don't,
who will?"

Who will indeed! As Professor Albus Dumble-
dore's heir, Mr. Potter gave this press confer-
ence. He informed us that Dumbledore is dying.
As we all know, his chance of survival is non-
existent. Will the war effort fall apart with the
man's passing? With men and women like Mr.
Potter, Professor McGonagall, and Commander
Black, how can we think that all is lost? Surely,
all is NOT lost. The torch has just been passed
to the next generation. Let us hope we will do as fine a job as Professor Dumbledore did.

"Vachel Mente has become my favorite writer," Harry commented, tossing the article to Ginny. "Of course, it helps that I suggested a few things that he should write."

"Wait, you helped with that?" Fred asked, surprised.

"Yeah, when do you think Thia gave her quote?" Harry asked. "Oh, wait, that's right, you two skipped out on the meeting."

"We had dates," Fred said in their defense. "And we made plans for that long before that meeting was scheduled."

"Shut up, Fred," George commanded his younger brother. "For once just use your head for a moment."

"Now is the only reason we're here for me to read this, and for you to talk to Ginny in private?" Harry asked shrewdly.

"No, but we need your help for the next part," George answered.

"We want to get Mum a clock to replace the old one," Fred explained. "Well, we've done that already. We need a picture of Snape to put on it, though."

"Why?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Because we've done a bit of family research, and to our utter horror, he is family," George explained. "And as the clock is for family..."

"He get's a hand for it," Fred finished. "Oh, we also need a picture for Hermione."

"What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked, her eyes squinting in thought.

"She doesn't know," Harry sighed. "Ron didn't want her to warn Hermione."

"Oh, sorry," Fred apologized, but Harry knew that he was anything but. "Ron's planning on asking Granger to marry him... sometime..." Both brothers rolled their eyes. "Which will make her family."

"And family gets put on that clock," George said firmly, hugging Melita.

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

"To combat the Formidilus Curse you should use your Patronus," Harry instructed the D.A. later that Tuesday. He was describing a Dark ward that Thia had been teaching him a few months ago. It made the area it was cast on seem particularly evil and foreboding; it was also a favorite trick among the Death Eaters. "The Patronus eats away at the perception of evil just as it physically attacks the dementors, whose affect is very similar."

"Whether it is the curse or a dementor, you'll want your Patronus out," Harry continued. "If the Formidilus Curse has been used, the area around your Patron--"

"That is incorrect," Burke finally said, interrupting him. Harry turned to face the man and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "The Patronus Charm is not useful against the Formidilus Curse, at least not in any way worthwhile. You should use the Ridilus Counter-Curse."

"Alright, in Professor Burke's class, use the Ridilus," Harry said, turning around and facing his class. "In real life and in here, I suggest the Patronus."

"Does my experience mean nothing?" Burke growled, his voice a low challenge. Harry let out a small sigh and turned back around.

"Of course it does," he answered. "And that is why I find no fault with you teaching them that. However, if one's Patronus is strong, as all of these students can produce, than it is the surest bet. Ridilus only affects the area directly around the caster, and can not help anyone else in the area. Patronus is a mobile charm that is able to help those who can not help themselves."

"You would know this, how?" the older man asked, his posture and voice condescending and rude. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly; he didn't want to lose his temper.

"Besides working with Thia on it, I've talked with Remus, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Volker, Bryant, Professor Snape, and before his collapse, Professor Dumbledore," Harry answered. "They all agreed that with a strong enough Patronus, the Ridilus Counter-Curse was ineffective and wrong. The Ridilus is a part of your curriculum and due to be taught in the first week of January. I see no reason to repeat something that is very easy to learn and ineffective for them."

Burke made a sound of disagreement in his throat and shook his head. Harry ignored the professor who was standing at the side of the room, though it was hard. This was the first time since Harry had quit Defense that Burke had supervised the D.A. It was obvious that Burke held something against him and was not happy about his quitting class.

"Do not use that tone with me, boy," Burke started, but Harry took a step closer to him and cut him off.

"And you will not use that tone with me," he said firmly. "I am not a little boy just playing games. I lost that innocence a long time ago. I understand lives are at stake here and I get that what I teach these students may mean their lives. The Wall of Loss is a part of me as much as every single Revelry that I have had to endure."

"You have not lived through a Revelry," Burke snorted.

"Do not think you know me, Burke," Harry replied. "If I haven't lived through Revelries, than please tell me where my nightmares come from and how I know that Death Eaters have attacked before Rita Skeeter does." Harry took another step closer. "I have seen things that no one should see and dreamt things worse than your worst nightmares. Yet, even my Patronus can dispel Druce's best Formidilus. I'm sure these students can produce a stronger Patronus than mine."

"And if they can't think of a memory strong enough?" Burke challenged.

"Then they use the Ridilus Counter-Curse," Harry said with a shrug. "It won't hurt to try, because the Formidilus Curse only creates the illusion of evil and fear. Unlike the dementors, this curse will not suck out your soul." Burke opened his mouth to say more, but Harry cut him off. "No, this is my class. I was silent while you taught them things I disagreed with, and now you'll do me the same favor. If you can't, then leave and I'll find the Headmistress."

The room was deathly quiet as Burke thought over the statement. Several of the students looked surprised, but most of them looked relieved. Burke knew loads about defense and made sure his students learnt it, but the way he went about that made him unlikable. Harry wasn't sure who he disliked more: Umbridge or Burke. Umbridge was a bad person and had had nothing to teach them. Burke had turned out to be a bad person, but he also taught very valuable information. It was an anomaly that Harry had been fighting with all year. It had finally come to a head in Burke's class last week, and now it would end. Harry hoped it would end for the best.

When it became apparent that Burke wouldn't say more, Harry turned to face the other students. "Okay, I want everyone to move to the back of the room. I'll be placing the Formidilus Curse on this area of the room," he explained, pointing to the front area where he was standing. "One at a time, you'll cast your Patronus and try your luck against the curse."

"That is illegal. You can't cast Dark magic," Burke barked, stepping forward. Harry kept himself from rolling his eyes.

"No, it isn't," Harry responded. "The purpose of this club is to learn to combat Dark wizards, and they've all agreed to my use of the Dark Arts in that training. I've warned them, I was trained in it for educational purposes by Commander Black, and she and Headmistress McGonagall have given their permission for this lesson." Burke's face turned a nasty shade of red and Harry could sense trouble. "Professor Burke, if you insist on interrupting my class I will contact the Headmistress. All it would take is sticking my head into that fire. Please, do not make a big deal out of our personal differences. This is neither the time nor the place for it."

"I just find it ironic that the Boy Who Lived and is prophesied to defeat the Dark Lord has been taught the Dark Arts," Burke commented. Harry felt his face pale.

"No, not prophesied to defeat, just to fight him," he corrected faintly. "There is a difference and it is that difference that matters most. Thia and the others know that I won't use the Dark Arts. They're despicable and cruel. But my enemies, particularly Voldemort who I will fight, will use them. The best way to learn how to counter some of this stuff is to learn it. On top of that, I teach a defense group that calls itself an Army. They have to know this stuff, not just in theory, but more importantly in practice. It is one thing to know something and another to experience it."

"That reasoning could be used by dark wizards to 'legalize' teaching their children the Dark Arts," Burke commented. "After all, most of them will fight in the Dark Lord's army."

"Difference is we're against that," Blaise commented. "Trust me, I grew up being taught the Dark Arts. There's a difference between Harry learning from Thia and my parents using the Crucio curse on me when I showed no interest in using the same curse on animals for practice."

"I would disagree with you," Burke replied. "My brother turned dark because of our parents' teachings. I had to learn the same lessons as he and not once did my practical knowledge help my Defense skills." Blaise and Burke started to argue more earnestly.

"Enough!" Harry shouted, startling the two men. "Burke, if you don't stop I will make you leave. Blaise, same goes for you. Today's lesson was carefully prepared and planned. Formidilus!" Instantly the front part of the room took on a more sinister appearance and Harry felt a shiver run through his body. "Blaise, you're first."

AUthor's Notes:

Time is running out... Will Snape be able to pull off a cure for Dumbledore? Will Burke get in trouble? What will happen if/when Dumbledore dies? Will Ioci get shot? Will the catapults come out?

Um... let's see... I would love to thank the following wonderful readers: A.H.Wonderland, kat_3432, Broadsword, ZanyMuggle, Hariette, mouchardchercheur, darkcelestial, Emperor_ShAh, voceconbrio, reenee, johnapple, Firebolt2006, sailorchick321, The Wizard Of Joz, Roxy1216, unknown777, Arachnia_Payton, and NitaPotter. You're reviews are more than a bit appreciated... they make my day, and i love getting them. If you haven't reviewed your local author today, just click the link right below this message, and review! Save an Author, Leave a Review!

Chapter 23 is titled Snow and Fire. We'll find out if Dumbledore is saved or if Dumbledore is dead. Harry goes out to admire a snow fall and is surprised by some vistors. Everything comes to a head and we realize just what Voldemort has been planned. Should be a good ride... can't wait to hear what you all think about 22 and 23... should be good times!

Want to thank my amazing beta's 'cause I've kinda haven't been paying them attention... so... Celest and DFGH, I owe you more than I can even begin to tell you... You ladies are a life saver. Any and all typo's left are my fault and my fault only.

I don't think I said this when Mina and Melita first came out... but thanks to Jeep for the input on these two characters. You're a good guy, Jeep! Got good ideas and good help... yeah... thanks to all you other Stalkers... luv you loads! I'm going to hate being on the west coast for the next several months...

I do have an e-mail alert system... if you want me to e-mail you when the chapter is up-loaded as soon as I know about it, just leave a review with your e-mail in it.

I think that's it so...

Until next time,
Devotedly yours,
Ioci the Contrite and the Nefarious