Magic At Its Deepest

Chapter Seven

The first thing Harry was aware of when he woke was the smell of Hospital Wing, mingled with the scent of chocolate. That was rather confusing, until he opened his eyes and saw a small stack of sweets on the table at foot of his bed. Grinning, he sat up and slid out of bed, going over to inspect the sweets. Most of them bore the names of Gryffindors, though Harry was somewhat pleased to see a box of Sugar Quills from Cho Chang. Neville, Seamus and Dean had apparently gone in together on a bag of Chocolate frogs, and - and this was the part that really made him smile - Molly Weasley had sent him a huge plate of fudge.
All the candy bore cards with 'Get Well Soon', 'We Miss You', and other such sentiments on them. Harry was relieved to note that the one bearing Ginny's name didn't sing, on-key or off. It came accompanied by a small bag of toffees - "Not ton-tongues," proclaimed the P.S. on the card. Harry took the bag and stuffed it into his pocket, making a mental note to thank Ginny later.
A glance at the clock revealed a probable explanation for why nobody was there; it was dinnertime, and they were probably all in the Great Hall, Dumbledore included. Which meant, of course, that Harry had to go there. Sighing, he took one of the chocolate frogs, unwrapped it, and pulled out the card. "Huh," he said, raising his eyebrows at it. "Agrippa. Ron will be pleased."

Harry didn't see anybody in the halls, with the exception of the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw House ghost, who informed him that yes, all the others were at dinner, and she was very glad to see him awake but shouldn't he still be in bed? He thanked her for her concern and made his way to the Great Hall, oblivious to the fact that he was as white as a sheet, had dark circles under his eyes, and had, in fact, been unconscious for two days.
When he stepped into the Great Hall, making a beeline for the Head Table, everybody went silent and stared at him in shock. He saw Hermione and the Weasleys out of the corner of his eye, leaping out of their seats and gaping as he walked up to Dumbledore. "Headmaster," he said, very quietly. "May I have a few moments of your time?"
"Harry!" Remus gasped before anybody else could say anything. "What on earth are you doing out of bed?"
Harry looked over at him, startled. "I needed to talk to the Headmaster, Professor," he said quietly, "and since nobody was there when I woke up I had to go looking for him. It's really important."
"Harry," said Dumbledore, "I appreciate your dedication, but--"
"Professor Snape is dead."
Dumbledore closed his mouth with an audible snap, and he and the other adults stared at Harry in shock. "Dead?" Remus repeated at length, softly.
"Yes," said Harry. "Very dead. Really as dead as you can get, in fact."
"Oh," said Remus softly. "And you saw..."
"Saw, heard, felt, smelled, tasted, pretty much everything." Harry smiled mirthlessly. "Sorry to interrupt your lecture, Remus."
Dumbledore stared at him for another moment, then stood up and walked around the Head Table. "Come with me, Harry. Back to the infirmary."
"Yes, Headmas--oof!" Harry blinked, surprised, as Remus came around behind him and picked him up. "Remus!" he yelped.
"You shouldn't be walking," said Remus by way of explanation.
"Yes I should! I very much should!" Harry started squirming, embarrassed. "Remus, I'll never hear the end of this if you don't let me walk on my own!"
"Let him walk, Remus. He's capable." Dumbledore smiled at Harry, who smiled back gratefully, took two steps toward the door, and then fainted.

This time when he woke up, he was aware of four voices, Sirius, Remus, his mum and the Headmaster, talking quietly. "I don't understand why he was in so much pain," Sirius was saying. "I mean, I'm sorry Snape's dead. Don't look at me like that, Remus, I really am!"
"Yes, I'm sure," said Remus dryly. "I must confess, though, I don't understand it either. Harry's never had a dream in the daytime before, and they've never been this bad. I don't understand why it hurt him so badly. Avada Kedavra is supposed to be painless."
"It wasn't Avada Kedavra."
Sirius, Remus and Lily spun around. Dumbledore, who had already been facing Harry, merely raised his eyebrows at him. "Harry? What do you mean?" Sirius asked quietly.
"It wasn't Avada Kedavra." Harry's voice was flat, emotionless, and profoundly disturbing. "Voldemort was letting the Death Eaters help him torture Professor Snape. Lucius Malfoy, Avery, Nott, the Lestranges, MacNair, Pettigrew, and Voldemort, they all had Cruciatus on him at the same time. I felt the pain he was feeling. I felt him start to foam at the mouth, and I felt him throw up, and piss himself, and I felt his heart explode." He looked over at the horrified adults, his eyes as flat as his voice. "That's how he died. Avada Kedavra? Voldemort isn't that forgiving."

"Oh, Harry," his mother whispered tearfully, and crossed the room, embracing him tightly. "Harry, dear, I'm so sorry you saw that."
Harry returned his mother's embrace gratefully, burying his face in her shoulder. "He was in so much pain, mum," he whispered softly. "I don't like him, never have,
but he didn't deserve to die like that. Nobody deserves to die like that."
"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, obviously strained. "Before you passed out you said something. You said 'You will never win, Voldemort. You will never defeat Albus Dumbledore. Never!' Do you know why?"
"I said that?" Harry said softly, startled.
"Yes, you did," said Dumbledore. "Do you have any idea why?"
"I might, actually." Harry swallowed. "Those were Snape's last words." He leaned heavily against his mother's side, white-faced. "I don't know why I said them...or why I got a vision when I was wide awake. I was awake, Remus," he added, looking over at his teacher. "I wouldn't fall asleep on you. You're much too good."
"I know, Harry," Remus said quietly. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about this right now, Harry," said Dumbledore. "We will figure out why these things are happening to you, I promise. For now, you should stay here and rest for a bit, get your strength back. You'll need it when you start looking for a new Keeper next week."
Harry perked up at that, but only slightly. "Yeah," he said softly. "Ron's trying out, you know. It'll be good to have another Weasley on the team. And he's good. We play at the Burrow sometimes. He's really good."
"I can't wait to watch you fly," Lily murmured softly. "Everybody says you're better than James."
"He's the best," said a soft voice from the doorway, and Harry and the others looked up, startled. Ron and Hermione stood there, uncertain expressions on their
faces. "Can...can we come in?" Ron asked quietly.
"Of course, Mister Weasley, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said kindly.
Hermione raced across the room and over to Harry's side, embracing him carefully. "Oh, Harry! We were so worried!"
Harry returned her embrace, patting her back. "I'm fine, Hermione," he said quietly. "I'll be OK."
"Harry, mate, what on earth was that?" Ron asked, white-faced. "I'm used to your nightmares but I've never seen anything like that before."
Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who was watching them with a grave expression. "Headmaster, can I tell them?"
Dumbledore nodded. "You may, Harry, but only them."
Harry swallowed and turned to Hermione and Ron. "You can't tell anybody else this," he said.
"All right, Harry," said Hermione as Ron nodded. "We can keep a secret, you know that."
"I know." Harry looked away for a moment, then looked back at them. "Professor Snape is dead."
Hermione and Ron both went pale with shock and stared at Harry in silence for a moment. "He...he's dead?" Hermione whispered at length.
Harry nodded. "I saw it happen. My scar, it gives me...I can see when Voldemort does things. I saw him and his Death Eaters kill Snape. They tortured him...you don't want to know the details."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "And you saw it?"
"And felt it," said Harry.
Ron and Hermione flinched. "Bloody Hell," said Ron. "Er, sorry," he added with a glance at the adults.
"Quite all right, Ron," Lily said. "I was thinking the same thing."
 "Are you sure you're all right, Harry?" Hermione asked softly.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I'm sure. I just need to rest for a couple days, get back on my feet."
"Well, all right," Hermione said dubiously. "If you need anything, let us know."
"Actually, there is something," Harry said. "If you wouldn't mind, Hermione, when you take notes in class, make a copy for me?"
Hermione and Ron gawked at him, stunned. His mother and the other adults looked mildly surprised as well. "Er, of course, Harry," Hermione said, "but why?"
Harry smiled mirthlessly. "I just have a feeling I'm going to need every bit of knowledge I can get."

Harry was back on his feet and out of the infirmary two days after he woke up, despite the protests of Madame Pomfrey. Ron and Hermione came down to escort him back to the Common Room, and they were about halfway there when Draco Malfoy's voice stopped them in their tracks. "Well, well. What have we here? A Mudblood, a Weasley, and The Boy-Who-Convulsed."
The three Gryffindors turned to face Malfoy, glaring. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy," Ron snarled softly. "Or I'll shut it for you."
"Ignore him, Ron," Hermione said softly. "He's just a stupid child."
Malfoy flushed angrily, his pale skin blotching with color in a very unattractive way. "I'd watch what I said if I were you," he hissed at Hermione. "Being a Mudblood and Potter's best friend, that can't be very safe." He smirked slightly. "Of course, that's the only reason Potter hangs out with you anyway, because you're a Mudblood and so was his mum."
All three Gryffindors went white, and Harry had just started to reach for his wand, but was stopped by the sound of a very familiar - and very welcome - voice. "Mister Malfoy!"
Draco went white as a sheet, his expression horror-struck, and Harry, Ron and Hermione shared delighted grins as Sirius bore down on them, looking the most dangerous any of them had ever seen him. "Professor! I...I..."
"Don't even try it, Malfoy," Sirius snapped, a low growl in his tone. "There is nothing you can say to me to excuse that sort of language. Fifty points from Slytherin, and you will report to me for detention every night for the rest of this year!"
Draco's jaw dropped open, and he gaped at Sirius in absolute horror. "But...you can't do that! My father--"
"Your father, Mister Malfoy, does not frighten me," Sirius said in Arctic tones. "Now, I suggest you report to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall would have no qualms about taking off even more points if you're tardy."
Draco glared impotently at them for a moment before turning and stalking off. Sirius watched him go, then turned around and grinned at the kids. "I always wanted to take points off Slytherin," he confided in a whisper.
"You're very good at it," Ron said, smirking. "But you know what they say--"
"Practice makes perfect!" the teenagers chorused, and all four Gryffindors burst out laughing.

"Malfoy was right about one thing, though," Harry said after the laughing fit had passed. "Being my best friends is going to make you two targets. Maybe you should..."

"Harrison James Potter, if you finish that sentence I will slap you," Hermione said so fiercely that Harry took a step back, alarmed. "You aren't getting rid of us. We've been through too much together. Yes, maybe being your friend makes us targets, but honestly, Harry, Malfoy's father hated Ron's family long before they knew you."

"Yeah," said Ron. "And Hermione's Muggle-born, so she'd have been a target anyway, especially being a Prefect and all."

"They're right, Harry," Sirius said gently. "You know they are."

"I know," Harry said softly. "But...I don't want anybody else dying because of me."

"Because of you?" said Sirius, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Cedric died because I told him to take the Cup with me," Harry said softly. "And Professor Snape...he died because Voldemort came back...used my blood...used me...it's my fault. Whoever else dies...it'll all be my fault."

"Bullshit."

Harry's jaw dropped. That hadn't been Ron, which he would have expected, or Sirius, which he would have understood. "Hermione!"

Hermione flushed slightly. "Well, I'm sorry, Harry, but it is. None of this is your fault. None of it, do you hear? Blame Pettigrew, blame You-Know-Who, but don't blame yourself, and don't expect any of us to, because it's not your fault."

Harry stared at her for a moment, silent with surprise, and then turned away, unable to speak.

"She's right, Harry," Sirius said softly. "You have to believe that."

"No, I don't. I can't." Harry looked up at his godfather, his expression blank. "'Kill the spare,' Sirius. That's what Voldemort said when he saw that Cedric was with me. 'Kill the spare'. That's all Cedric was to him, just some random person he didn't even know, who had to die because he was with me." He swallowed and turned away again. "So don't try and tell me it's not my fault," he said softly, and walked away, leaving his friends behind.

Harry's mood continued to decline over the next few days, despite all efforts of his friends to cheer him up. Even Remus' Defense Classes, which never failed to be interesting, couldn't make him feel any better. The only thing that helped was when McGonagall announced the beginning of Quidditch tryouts. Seeing Ron write his name on the Gryffindor list, Harry couldn't help but smile.

Gryffindor tryouts took place the Saturday afternoon after Harry awoke. In addition to Ron, there were three other people trying out for the position of Keeper, and Harry didn't know any of them. One was a sixth-year, the other two third-years. Harry, reading the tryout list, went into a giggle fit that lasted ten minutes when he read the sixth-year's name, and it took another five minutes to explain to his friends why "Theodore Gretsky" was so funny.

Unlike his famous namesake, Theodore Gretsky was obviously not cut out for this sort of thing, Harry decided after a few minutes of watching him. Alicia, Katie, and Angelina were being really soft on him, but he wasn't doing very well at all. After ten minutes, he'd missed all but one of the shots they fired at him, and that one had caught him in the stomach.

"That's pathetic," Ron observed quietly to Harry as they watched.

"That's an understatement," said Harry in equally subdued tones. "If the other two do that badly, you're going to end up on the team by default."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Potter."

"Anytime."

The third-year students were both much better than the sixth-year at first, but the harder the Chasers went at them, the more and more shots they missed, and Harry found himself praying to any gods that might be listening that Ron would perform as well here as he did in their practices at The Burrow. He considered offering to loan his best friend his Firebolt, but Ron pointed out that it would do him little good to try out on a broom he wasn't going to be flying regularly. "Best not to give anybody false hopes," he'd said, and Harry had to concede the point.

Ron, therefore, was on a school broom, a rickety old Cleansweep Seven which was nonetheless far superior to the Shooting Star he had at home. He was plainly nervous, and Harry was nervous for him. "Oh, please let him be good," he whispered softly as his best friend took his place in front of the goalposts.

"He'll be fine," said Ginny Weasley's confident voice from behind him, and Harry turned, startled. "With all that practice at the house, how could he not?"

Harry grinned nervously. "I hope you're right, Gin," he said softly. "It'd be great to have him on the team with me."

Oh sweet Merlin he's smiling at me! Ginny swallowed and struggled to control herself. "I'm sure I'm right," she said, trying to act casual.

"I hope so. Come on, sit down, we can cringe together," Harry invited, patting the bench next to him.

"OK," said Ginny, and sat down, her heart thundering in her chest. I'm sitting next to Harry Potter. Me. And Harry Potter. Sitting together!

"Well, well," said an amused voice from behind them. "What is it about Potter men and redheads?"

Harry and Ginny both flushed. Remus Lupin was standing behind them, smiling slightly. "Hello, Professor Lupin," said Harry.

"It's Remus outside the classroom, Harry, you know that. Hello, Miss Weasley."

"Hello, Professor. Do you like Quidditch?"

"Oh yes," said Remus. "I always have. Is that Ron up there?"

"Yeah," said Harry, turning back and grinning as Ron stopped an admittedly easy shot from Katie. "That's Ron. We're hoping he'll be as good here as he is when we practice at the Burrow."

"Why aren't you up there with them?"

"I'm biased," Harry said easily. "I don't get a say in this at all. Ron's my best friend. I'm just here to watch."

"Same reason we're not up there," said a Weasley twin, coming up behind them. "Hello, Professor."

"Fred," greeted Remus easily, not even looking at the twin. "Where's George?"

"He's....busy," Fred said evasively. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Tell us apart without looking?"

"Oh. Well, I'm a werewolf, aren't I? You smell different from each other."

"Really?"

"Mmmhmm. Your whole family has a vague sagey scent about you, but you all have different secondary scents." Remus grinned. "You smell like mint. George smells like sage. Ginny, cinnamon. Charlie smells like book bindings, and your brother Percy smells like Curry."

"Wild," said Harry. "How about me?"

"Apples. Just like your father." Remus smiled sadly. "Your mum....jasmine and vanilla."

"How about Ron?" Ginny asked, watching her brother block another shot.

Remus grinned. "Cayenne pepper and hot coals."

"Oh. How appropriate."

Harry laughed and turned to Ginny, green eyes sparkling. "Good one, Gin," he said, winking. "I'll have to remember to tell Ron your opinion of him."

Ginny snorted. "He's known me all my life," she said dryly. "I think he knows."

"Say, Harry, where's Hermione?" Remus said curiously. "I'd have thought she'd be here, goodness knows Lily never missed any of James' Quidditch things."

"She probably forgot," Harry said. "I suspect she'll be barreling down from the library any minute now."

"Oh," said Remus, amused. Just then, Ron blocked another shot, and Katie, Alicia and Angelina flew back down to the ground, gesturing at him to stay put.

"He hasn't missed a single shot," Angelina said as the three girls strode toward the little group in the bleachers. "It's time to make things a bit harder on him."

"How do you mean?" Harry said, eyebrows raised.

Alicia grinned wolfishly. "It's time to break out the bludgers."

"Bludgers? But you only have one Beater," said Ginny, looking concerned.

"Yes," said Angelina. "One Beater, and one Seeker who's standing around doing nothing." She smirked at Harry, who stared at her in surprise. "What do you say, Potter? Up for a little moonlighting?"

Harry swallowed. "Well, Oliver did once tell me I'd make a fair beater," he said.

"Really? When was that?"

Harry grinned. "See that statue?" he said, pointing to a figure of a wizard in high-necked robes, holding two crossed swords high over his head.

"Yes," said Alicia, eyeing it.

Harry smirked. "First year, after he made me Seeker, Wood took me out here to teach me the rules. I didn't even know what Quidditch was, hadn't ever played it before. He let out one of the bludgers and gave me that bat, and I hit the bludger right between those two swords."

Remus, Fred and the girls stared at him for a moment. "Right, then," said Katie. "Harry, you're playing Beater."

"OK," said Harry agreeably.

Angelina gestured for Ron to join them, and he did, his expression hopeful. "How'm I doing?"

"You're doing great, Ron," Angelina said. "There's just one more thing. We need to see how you'll fare against the Bludgers, so Fred and Harry are going to go up there and take potshots at you."

Ron's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "What? But...but Harry's no beater! Where's George?"

"Raiding Hogsmeade for the party we're going to throw when you make the team," said Fred. "Deal with it."

Ron gawked at them some more, then turned to Harry, pale. "Harry, mate," he croaked, "please don't kill me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I make no promises," he said dryly, and Fred and the girls burst into laughter at the look on Ron's face.

Harry's hopes about Ron's ability on the Quidditch Pitch didn't go unfounded. He was brilliant, even with Bludgers soaring at him all the time. At some point, Hermione showed up, and Harry occasionally heard her scream when a bludger came closer than she liked to her boyfriend's head, but Ron ducked them all easily.

About forty-five minutes after they started, Angelina motioned to the others to join her, and they all huddled up. "Do I even have to say it?" she said softly.

"He didn't miss a single shot," Alicia said, grinning. "I think we have ourselves a Keeper."
"Excellent," said Harry happily. "With three Weasleys on the team we'll be unbeatable."

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and Gryffindors of all ages!"
Every eye in the common room turned to Fred, who was standing in front of the fireplace, a Sonorous charm raising his voice loud enough to silence their chatter. Five hours had passed since they chose Ron for their new keeper, and now the entire team was lined up in front of the fireplace, minus Ron, who was watching them with the rest of his house. "Oi, lower it, Weasley, or they'll hear you in the dungeons!" Seamus Finnegan cried teasingly.
Fred snickered. "Like they'll know who it is?" he said dryly. "They'll hear the voice from above and think it's the Muggle God come to take them to Slytherin Hell."

"And what's Hell to a Slytherin?" Seamus retorted, grinning.

"A neverending Quidditch game against us!"

The Gryffindors roared with approval, especially Ron, who looked like Christmas had come early for him.

"Speaking of Quidditch, the new season starts in less than a month, and as you all know, we had tryouts today for the position of Keeper, recently vacated by the late, great--"

"Insane--"

"Obsessive--"

"And now professional--"

"God help Puddlemere--"

"Oliver Wood!"

The applause this time was slightly less - most of the younger students didn't know who Wood was, and many of them were still trying to figure out how exactly Fred and George managed to trade off sentences like that.

"And we're proud to say that the new Keeper, chosen by our three lovely Chasers--"

"And put through his paces by the same Chasers, along with my brother and Mister Potter--"

"Who makes a corking Beater in a pinch--"

"Is none other than our own dear brother, Ron!"

Ron sagged in his chair, grinning widely, not terribly surprised but still very relieved. Ginny and Hermione both squealed happily and hugged him, and for a few minutes Ron was invisible in the sea of congratulation.

"Wait, wait!" Angelina yelled. "We have another announcement to make!"

"As some of you know, Wood was also our Captain," said Alicia, "so we have to pick a new captain as well."

"The problem with that is that the five of us are graduating this year," said Katie, gesturing to her fellow Chasers and the two Beaters.

"And as for Potter, well, he's just terrible with strategy, and anyway with all the people that want to kill him we're afraid we'd end up replacing him within a month," said George airily. "So we figured we might as well make Ron Captain too."

Now that came as a surprise. Ron stared at them all in shock for a moment, then let out a strangled yelp and jumped on them, hugging first his brothers and then the girls until they squealed in protest, and then turning to Harry and tackling him with all the force of a Bludger. Harry grinned and returned his exuberant embrace wholeheartedly, pounding him on the back. "I can't believe it," Ron said over and over again, fiercely, into Harry's ear. "I can't believe it's not you."

"Believe it, Ron," said Harry. "The way you play chess, you were a shoo-in."

At this point, Ron and Harry were mobbed by squealing girls, as Hermione and Ginny flung themselves on them, beaming. Hermione astonished Ron by giving him a very exuberant kiss, causing the tips of his ears to go red from embarrassed delight.

All in all, it was a pretty good night.

The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Common room working on their homework when the Chasers walked in, looking much less festive than they had last night. "You three aren't going to believe this," said Angelina as she walked up to them.

"What's wrong, Angelina?" asked Harry, worried.

"Draco Malfoy's the new Slytherin Quidditch team Captain," Alicia said, flopping into a chair and sighing softly.

"Malfoy?" Ron said, incredulous. "Why Malfoy?"
"Well, you know what they say," said Harry. "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some make their daddies buy greatness for them."

Ron, Fred and George snorted appreciatively as the Chasers giggled.

"Well, it isn't talent," said Hermione, not looking up from her book. "Malfoy couldn't catch a Snitch if it was Spellotaped to his broom."

Harry snorted. "We need to get you to replace Lee as commentator, Hermione," he said as the others snickered. "McGonagall would approve, and you know more about the sport from books than at least half the school."

Hermione finally looked up from her book at that, startled. "Commentator? Me?" she said, startled. "I don't have time for that, Harry! I have enough duties as Prefect, and I have homework, and besides, I think Seamus wants the job when Lee's done with it, I've heard him practicing insults to Dean."

"Seamus might give McGonagall even more trouble than Lee," said Harry, grinning. "I can't wait."

One month later...

That Halloween, Harry surprised his classmates by not going down to Hogsmeade with them, despite having permission. Instead, he, Hermione, and the Weasleys stayed behind, and when their Housemates had gone, they made their way to Dumbledore's office, where Remus, Sirius, Lily and the Weasleys were waiting. For a few minutes, the office was filled with the sound of joyful reunion between all nine Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. Once Harry had been released by the last exuberant redhead, he was hugged exuberantly by both his mother and his godfather. Remus was going to simply shake his hand, but Harry wasn't about to let him get away with that, and hugged him every bit as enthusiastically as he had done the others, which made the tips of Remus' ears go red.

Once all the greetings had passed, Harry turned to his mum, who had asked them all to meet here, and said, "So, what did you want to talk to us about, Mum?"

Lily swallowed and sat down in Dumbledore's chair, eyeing him with a grave expression. "Harry," she said quietly, "what I am about to tell you is extremely secret. Dumbledore knew, but James and I kept it a secret even from Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew. For your own safety," she said to Remus and Sirius. "We were afraid you would be targeted if you knew."

"Maybe you should leave," Harry said, addressing the others. "I don't want you in danger..."

"We're not going anywhere, Harry," Ron said. "If hearing this will help us be able to protect you better, then we need to hear it."

"Right," said Hermione, while the other Weasleys nodded.

Remus and Sirius smiled as Harry turned to them. "Don't look at us, Harry," Sirius said. "We're not going anywhere."

Harry sighed and smiled back faintly. "Stubborn," he said, and turned back to Lily. "It looks like we have an audience."

"Yes," Lily said, smiling faintly. "I must ask you all that it not leave this room." Everybody nodded, and Lily sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Harry," she said, "I'm not certain where to begin this story....what do you know of our family background?"

"Er," said Harry, surprised. "I...I know my dad's family was pure wizard going back a long way. Sirius told me that. I don't know anything about your family...I just know that your maiden name was Evans. Petunia didn't like me asking questions." He smirked a bit bitterly. "I was seven when she told me July thirty-first was my birthday."

"Bitch," somebody muttered from the general direction of Bill Weasley. Nobody corrected him.

Lily sighed. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she muttered softly. "Well, Harry, you're right, your father's family is pure wizard, has been for many years. James was the first Potter in history to marry a Muggle-born."

"He picked the right one to start with," murmured Sirius, and Remus nodded agreement.

Lily smiled. "Well, thank you, Sirius," she said softly. "James' family is so pure, Harry, that when Hogwarts was first founded, a Potter was among its students. A Gryffindor, like you and your father."

"Wow," said Harry. He, Remus, Sirius, Hemione and the Weasleys stared at Lily with wide eyes. "I didn't know that."

"I'm sure you didn't. His name was Arcturus Potter, and when he married, his son attended Hogwarts as well. There he met and fell in love with a young lady named Althea, whose parents were both teachers at the school." Lily studied Harry with the air of a person about to drop a bomb. "Althea's last name was Gryffindor."

Hermione and the Weasleys gasped. Remus, Sirius and Harry just stared at Lily in shock, unable to believe their ears. "I'm...descended from Gryffindor? Godric Gryffindor?"

"Indeed. Althea Potter was the only child of Godric Gryffindor and his wife." Lily paused again. "His wife, Harry, was Rowena Ravenclaw."

Harry nearly fell out of bed. "You...you mean I'm related to two of the Founders?" he gasped, unable to believe his ears.

"Not exactly. You see, Harry, while Ravenclaw and Gryffindor fell in love with one another, Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff found mates outside of the school. Salazar, after leaving Hogwarts, married a witch from a dark family and began the family line which eventually spawned Voldemort. Helga Hufflepuff, however, married a Muggle. Their family line was powerfully magical, however, until twenty generations ago, when the first Squib ever to be born in the bloodline of one of the Founders renounced the magical world and married a Muggle. Their children, and all the descendants after them, were also Muggles, for many years, but the genes were still dormant, and one day a baby girl was born with a great deal of potential...and Helga Hufflepuff's flaming red hair."

There was a long silence. Thirteen white faces stared up at Lily, Harry's the palest of any of them, as her words sank in. "So...so that's why," Harry said at length. "That's why I've got all this power. That's why Voldemort wanted me and my father dead. Because...I'm descended from three of the Founders."

"Yes," Lily said quietly. "Gryffindor and Ravenclaw on your father's side and Hufflepuff on mine. The chances of the three bloodlines combining were astronomical..."

"But Potters have always excelled in defying the odds," said Sirius, very pale.

There was another long silence. Nobody knew what to say, how to react. At length, Harry stood up, his expression grimly determined. "I can kill him, can't I? That's why he wanted me dead. I can destroy him."

Lily nodded once. "Yes," she said. "You can. You may be the only one alive who has the power."

Harry exhaled softly, swallowed, and then lifted his chin. "Then I'll kill him."