The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Twenty: Revelations

'No way,' said Harry, staring down at the chart.

'Blimey,' said Ron.

'Harry,' said Susan, but whatever she said next seemed to die on her lips as her own eyes gazed at the chart in awe.

Hermione looked up. 'We have to tell Dumbledore. Right now.'

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

'Does anyone else know of this?'

Harry, Susan, Ron and Hermione were in Dumbledore's office, along with Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick. Bill was there as well. It was late and well past curfew by now.

Dumbledore addressed his question to the four teenagers but it was Harry who answered; Harry's eyes wouldn't meet Dumbledore's.

'Just the four of us,' said Harry.

'I see that you have decided to include Miss Bones in your efforts,' said Dumbledore, with a sigh in his voice.

Harry went scarlet. 'I'm sorry, sir, I just...I wanted to know if Susan was the person we were looking for.'

'Obviously she's not,' said Dumbledore coolly, gazing down at Susan through his half-moon spectacles.

'Please, sir,' said Susan timidly. 'I...I haven't said anything to anyone. I promise.'

Dumbledore gave a tired sigh at this revelation.

'Harry, I understand that you are close with Miss Bones, but you must appreciate the danger of this information spreading around,' he said.

'I trust her,' said Harry quickly, his voice a bit sharp, but he still did not look up at Dumbledore.

'As do I. She is, after all, a Hufflepuff,' said Dumbledore. And he gave Susan a kindly nod, and for a moment his eyes twinkled. Then he was serious again.

'Miss Bones' discretion is, however, not the issue,' he said. 'The issue is keeping this information close for the purposes of protecting the other students. You three are already in great danger for your knowledge. I would have preferred to protect Miss Bones.'

Ron and Harry exchanged a look; Harry's face was now full of guilt. He clearly hadn't thought that telling Susan might endanger her. He looked at Susan and his shoulders seemed to collapse.

'I--I didn't mean to--' Harry began, his throat struggling to form words.

'I know you didn't, Harry,' said Dumbledore kindly.

'Please, Professor,' Susan said, her voice a bit stronger, 'I want to be involved. I want to help Harry. He's...we're...' Her voice trailed off and she, too, blushed.

'What's done is done,' said Dumbledore gently, holding up a hand. 'And though I can't say I'm pleased with this, on the other hand, it is good to know that Harry has another good friend in his corner.' He gave Harry a small smile. Harry blinked and nodded, but went back to looking at his shoes.

'The question now is whether to inform Miss Lovegood,' Dumbledore went on.

'Headmaster,' said Flitwick slowly. 'If I may. We don't even know if this book exists. It's entirely likely that Miss Lovegood doesn't have it at all.'

'The records of the book's existence all show it disappearing after 1350,' said McGonagall.

'As Head of Ravenclaw House, I can say that I've never seen Miss Lovegood carrying anything but her schoolbooks,' squeaked Flitwick. 'Of course, it's impossible to know everything about one's students.'

'It would be simpler, yes, if this book had in fact disappeared altogether,' said Dumbledore. 'Or been destroyed. I'm afraid, however, that this is not the case.'

'How do you know, Albus?' said McGonagall.

'I know,' said Dumbledore slowly, 'because Miss Lovegood's grandmother showed me the book.'

At this a collective gasp went up.

'Albus...' said McGonagall. 'Good heavens. How...when?'

'I was entrusted with the knowledge of the book's existence by Siobhan Sheridan, Luna's maternal grandmother,' said Dumbledore. 'I agreed to act as Siobhan's Secret Keeper.'

Everyone stared at Dumbledore as this revelation seemed to fill the very air. There was a silence so absolute that Ron thought he could hear the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

'Albus, you...you were under a Fidelius Charm--' McGonagall began.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'But I'm afraid that, now, I must choose to break the charm and tell you all what I know. For it has become...a matter of life and death.'

He sighed and sat back in his chair.

'The Book of Morgan Le Fey,' he said, 'is perhaps the most extraordinary, and most deadly creation in the entire magical world. For hundreds of years the book was passed down from daughter to daughter on the maternal side of Morgan's bloodline, but it was only when the Squib, Elaine, received it, that the book was put into hiding. Elaine could not use the book, but she read it, and saw at once that, in the wrong hands, it could be used as a tool of tremendous evil.

'Morgan had a brilliant mind, but she was the victim of many injustices in her life, and they embittered her, and she allowed her thirst for revenge to color many of her choices. Most of all, she wanted revenge on those people who had tried to suppress her magical abilities. She turned to the Dark Arts and became so skilled in them that were she alive today, she could, if she chose, destroy Voldemort with barely a second thought.

'She started to put her book together when she was fairly young and kept it a fiercely guarded secret. Some of the magic she used to create it is so old, so ancient that most modern wizards and witches do not even know of its existence. She tied the book inextricably to her own female offspring, and their offspring, and so on; the book was bound by an ancient blood tie that could never be broken. No one but Morgan herself, or her direct female descendants, witches, could use the magic contained within the book. Anyone else who tried would die in the effort.

'She was not, however, wholly evil. Mercurial and cunning and given to exacting awful vengeance on those who wronged her, but as she grew older her bitterness faded and she turned her considerable gifts toward the Healing Arts. It has been assumed that it was then that she added new spells to the book she had started, spells to counter the Dark ones she'd originally created. But in the end she could not resist the allure of her own abilities. She wanted the world to know of her skills. The book itself was a monument to her own power, and she was determined that only those she deemed worthy would be allowed to share in her power.'

Dumbledore paused, sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He looked so old, Ron thought. When had he begun to look so very tired and old?

Dumbledore put his spectacles back on and continued.

'By the time Elaine received it, the Black Plague had already devastated most of Europe,' said Dumbledore. 'There was chaos and death and while some believed that the Plague was a punishment sent down by a vengeful God, many others believed it was the work of witches and wizards. They couldn't know then that the Plague was an accident of science and commerce, like so many other deadly diseases. Society wanted a scapegoat, and witches and wizards proved to be convenient ones.

'Elaine was already suspect because of her bloodline; she had made no secret of her origins because when she did so, she believed she had nothing to fear; it was long before the Plague came. She was a Squib, incapable of using magic at all. Unfortunately, once the Plague came, being a Squib didn't save her from being arrested and burned at the stake.'

'What did Elaine do with the book?' said Hermione, her eyes wide. Ron was amazed she could speak; his own tongue was dry as he tried to absorb all this information.

'She hid it,' said Dumbledore. 'No one is sure where or when, but before she was arrested she hid the book. However proud she was to be a descendant of the most powerful witch in the world, she understood, perhaps better than she knew, that the book was dangerous. She couldn't possibly have known, being a Squib, that the book itself wasn't meant to be hidden from its rightful owner.

'No one is sure when the book turned up next. I don't know. It is not chronicled, so I, like anyone else, can only speculate. But whenever it turned up, I can only assume that its owners kept it a secret, perhaps because they understood how lethal it was, how lethal it could be in the wrong hands.

'As a result, knowledge of the book itself became limited. There is brief mention of it in your History of Magic textbooks, of course, but that text rather goes out of its way to make the book appear to be little more than legend.

'Unfortunately, that is not the case.'

He paused again, closed his eyes and placed his fingertips together before he continued.

'I was entrusted with the knowledge of the book's existence by Luna's grandmother. It was right before she died, you see. She had become very ill--she died relatively young for a witch because of this. At the time, Voldemort was gaining strength, gathering his minions, and she knew if he found it, he would find some way of using it, if not through her, then through her daughter. Luna's mother. Siobhan was determined to keep the book away from her daughter for fear for her safety. She herself had read the book but had never used it. She knew it was powerful, but she didn't fully understand all its powers. She didn't give it to me for safekeeping because she feared it might be dangerous to me; she only showed it to me once, and even then she did not allow me to read it. She hid it in a secret place and put wards all round it. She told me where she'd hid it and asked me to guard her secret, and to keep it hidden after she'd gone. She had never told her daughter she had the book, but she knew on some level that the book itself would find a way to contact her daughter. She thought that if she placed wards around the book's hiding place, it would be sufficient protection. She was wrong.

'Her daughter found out about the book. The ancient magic surrounding it, and her lineage, made it impossible for Lysandra Sheridan NOT to know about it. The wards Siobhan used were powerful, but Lysandra's curiosity was far stronger. That curiosity ultimately killed her.

'But I kept Siobhan's secret, and after she died I kept an eye on Lysandra, as best I could, in any event. By the time Lysandra finished Hogwarts the First War was in full force, and it was impossible for me to devote any time to protecting a single witch from getting her hands on a book that, in the end, belonged to her. Lysandra was a very powerful and capable witch and she was able to find the book with little trouble and penetrate the wards her mother had put on its hiding place. I didn't learn that Lysandra had taken the book until I found out several years later from her husband, Linus Lovegood, that she'd died while trying to use it.'

Harry's eyes snapped up and met Dumbledore's, and Ron glanced at his best mate.

'Yes, Harry?' said Dumbledore.

Harry hesitated and glanced at his friends. He clearly didn't want to talk about whatever was on his mind.

'It's all right, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'Anything you say here is in the strictest confidence, and it's likely that at least some of us know what it is, anyway.'

'Luna...told me,' said Harry. 'About her mother. About how she died. She said her mum was doing a spell and it...went wrong on her. Luna saw it happen.'

Ron felt his stomach plummet.

'Yes, that's true,' said Dumbledore slowly. 'Luna's mother was a very powerful and intelligent witch, but she was creative as well, and liked to experiment with spells. She must have found a spell in the book and tried to...alter it somehow. Linus came home one late spring day and found his nine-year-old daughter sitting in their living room, holding her dead mother's hand. The book was open on the floor but Linus was naturally too distraught to pay attention to it.'

Ron's stomach twisted in knots. All the guilt he'd ever felt about making fun of Luna began to eat at his insides. True, he'd never once said anything cruel to her face, and he'd been nicer to her since being a lousy date for her at the Halloween Ball, but how many times had he chuckled about her weird behaviour? How many times had he called her Loony Lovegood behind her back? And she had watched her own mother die.

Everyone in the room was stock still, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

'Linus tried to destroy the book,' he said. 'He tried, but he couldn't. It became clear to him that just as only the book's rightful owner could USE the book, thus only the book's rightful owner could destroy it. He was terrified of letting Luna have it, so he asked me to take it and hide it. He was convinced that Luna was so traumatized by her mother's death that she wouldn't want anything to do with the book. And Luna was nearly ten. In a year, she'd be going to Hogwarts. She'd be safe here.

'I took the book, and I hid it where Siobhan, Luna's grandmother, had put it. I put as many wards round it as I could think of. I had no idea if they'd work, but there was nothing else I could do. And that was the summer before Harry would start his first year at school. I knew that Voldemort was not really gone, and I also knew that he would devote his attention to finding Harry, because of the Lost Prophecy. Harry had defeated Voldemort as a baby for reasons Voldemort didn't understand, and I knew he wouldn't rest until he learned of those reasons and destroyed Harry. My attentions shifted to protecting Harry at any cost. Harry's life was paramount to everything.'

Dumbledore stopped again and looked at Harry, and for a long moment the two of them simply gazed at one another. Ron watched them both. The look in Dumbledore's eyes was incomparably, unbearably sad to Ron. The look on Harry's face was sad as well, but there was something else there. Ron didn't know what Dumbledore meant about a lost prophecy, or just why Harry was 'paramount to everything,' but the look on Harry's face told Ron that Harry did know. That he'd known for a while, and that he hadn't told Ron or Hermione. And judging from the confused look on Susan's face, Harry hadn't told her either. What secret was Harry keeping that he could tell NONE of them?

The old Headmaster cleared his throat and continued.

'I asked Professor Flitwick to keep an eye on Luna for me,' said Dumbledore. 'And he has been doing so these past five years of Luna's schooling. Unfortunately, none of us fully appreciated just how powerful a hold the book would have on her.'

'Please, sir,' said Hermione. 'Do you...do you think she has the book? With her?'

'It is all but a certainty,' said Dumbledore, and at this, he glanced at Bill. 'Perhaps Professor Weasley can apprise us of recent events. He has been informed by our contact, I understand.'

Ron stared at Bill. His older brother was in contact with...a contact? For the Order? Ron knew Bill was involved, but this was far deeper involvement than he ever expected.

Bill stood up, glanced at Ron, cleared his throat, and spoke.

'Two nights ago bands of Death Eaters hand-picked by the Dark Lord himself infiltrated several homes,' he said. 'Pure-blood homes. One of the homes was the Lovegood house.'

Another gasp, and Ron felt slightly sick.

'Oh...god,' said Hermione, and she grabbed Ron's arm and he looked at her, then at Bill. Then at Susan, who had blanched.

'Sue,' said Harry, and he caught her as she sank against him. Then he turned to Ron.

'Bill...' said Ron, and in that moment he honestly thought he might faint.

'Not yours, Ron,' said Dumbledore quickly. 'Not yours. Your parents are safe, your brothers are all safe. And Miss Bones's family is safe. Madam Bones has been staying at Headquarters in recent weeks, and your relatives, Susan, have been moved somewhere secret; the moment I learned that Voldemort was looking for the book, I put her on alert.'

Ron felt his knees buckle, but he managed to stay upright and nod weakly. For one horrible moment, one awful, heart-wrenching moment, his mind was filled with images of Death Eaters raining down on the Burrow, tearing it apart, attacking his parents...

He looked over at Susan, whose eyes were filled with tears. She was clutching at Harry and Harry had his arm around her shoulders. It was a decidedly intimate gesture but nobody in the room made any objections. She was nodding and struggling to maintain her composure.

Ron closed his eyes and felt himself sway slightly.

'Ron, it's okay,' said Bill. 'Mum and Dad are fine, I talked to them this morning and again tonight.'

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Yeah.' He nodded and felt the blood return to his hands, his feet. 'But...why...why didn't they...go after our family?'

'Voldemort's been doing his own genealogical research,' said Bill darkly. 'He...he, well, he must have thought maybe Mum--'

'God,' said Ron, and this time his knees did give out.

'Ron!' Hermione cried, and she and Harry and Bill all surrounded him and caught him, kept him from falling completely to the floor.

Some small part of his brain was aware that it was humiliating for him, a seventeen year old boy who stood a head taller than most people in the room, to go into a kind of half-swoon. That he ought to be stronger, more manly than this. But the rest of his brain was full of the idea of Voldemort going after his mother.

McGonagall swiftly pulled out her wand and conjured up a chair. 'Sit here, Weasley,' she said briskly.

'It's okay, Ron,' said Bill firmly. 'It's all right. Mum's fine, Voldemort's not after her.'

Ron nodded. It was just like last year, when their dad was attacked by the snake. Except that it wasn't. Mrs. Weasley was fine. She hadn't been seriously injured in any attack. Voldemort wasn't after her.

She's okay, Ron told himself silently. She's okay. He's not after her. He's after...

'Are you okay, Ron?' said Hermione; she had knelt down beside him and was looking up at him.

'Fine,' said Ron, relieved that his voice had come back. 'I'm fine.'

'Are you sure, Ron--' Bill began, and he put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

'I said I'm fine,' said Ron sharply, now feeling stupid, embarrassed, weak. And selfish. HIS parents were fine. Voldemort wasn't after them. At least, not now. But Luna's father...

'Luna's dad,' said Ron, looking up at Dumbledore. 'What...what happened to Luna's dad?' Somehow it was nearly as bad, thinking about Luna losing her father, about Luna becoming an orphan.

'He's okay,' said Bill. 'Seems he was in Sweden investigating a possible lead for a story in his newspaper. He returned home yesterday morning to find his home torn apart. He'd missed the Death Eaters by a matter of hours. None of the other families were home, either, but their houses were pretty torn up, their lawns.'

The rest did not need to be said. Had Mr. Lovegood or anyone else been home when the Death Eaters came to their houses, they would have been tortured for information or murdered. Or both.

'How do you know this?' said Ron.

Bill looked at Dumbledore, who gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. 'I'm...not at liberty to say how I came about the information.'

Under any other circumstances, Ron would have argued, but his brain was so overwhelmed by all the information, and by guilt and horror and a million other things, that he could only look at his older brother and nod mutely. He still felt slightly sick. He felt stupid for having nearly fainted in front of all these people, in front of his girlfriend. He felt Hermione lay a comforting hand on his arm, but he jerked it away, not wanting her to touch him just now. He gave her a look and she bit her lip and looked away before standing up.

'And...the book?' said McGonagall slowly.

'Was not on the grounds at the time,' said Dumbledore. 'It seems Linus...failed to mention to me that the book has not been in its secret hiding place for quite some time.'

'Might someone else have stolen it?' said Hermione. She wouldn't look at Ron now. He realized he must have hurt her feelings, but a small part of him bristled. Didn't she understand how stupid he felt? The last thing he wanted was anyone fussing over him, least of all his girlfriend.

Dumbledore smiled at Hermione. 'I do not see how, Miss Granger. I may be an old man, but I do know a bit about creating wards, and I cast a fine Concealment Charm, if I do say so myself.'

Hermione blushed scarlet. 'Forgive me, sir, of course, I didn't mean--'

'I know,' said Dumbledore kindly. 'No, it appears that the only person who could have possibly penetrated the wards around the book had to be Miss Lovegood. I clearly underestimated the connection she has with the book. It can only have grown stronger as she has grown older. And the book itself...did not wish to stay hidden forever.'

'Why would Luna want the book at all?' said Susan hesitantly. 'I mean, the book is...is the reason her mother died. Why...would she want to keep it?'

'The book contains within it magic that even I in all my years do not fully comprehend,' said Dumbledore. 'To be honest, I don't think any of us here is meant to comprehend it. The book's magic takes hold of its owner and will not let go until the owner dies. The owner herself might choose never to use the book, but thus far, and quite obviously, no witch who's ever had the book in her possession has been driven to destroy it. Even Elaine, even Siobhan Sheridan, who both knew the dangers of the book, would not destroy it, though it was in their power to do so. I can only surmise that the book, or its powers, insinuate itself into the owner in some way, so that she feels so bound to the book that she cannot bring herself to destroy it.'

'So it...enchants the owner?' said Hermione slowly.

'Not exactly,' said Dumbledore. 'It does not control the day to day actions of the owner, as we have seen. Luna's behavior is, while admittedly unusual on occasion, not at all out of the realm of average teenage behavior. She is a good student. She stays out of trouble. But the book's hold on her was such that she penetrated the wards I created. At risk of sounding immodest, it's not every day that a fifteen year old student witch can break through wards created by an old wizard such as myself.'

'Sir?' said Harry. 'Why would Mr. Lovegood not have told you about Luna taking the book ages ago? And...and we've been reading The Daily Prophet every day, and there was nothing yesterday or today about a Death Eater attack on Mr. Lovegood's house.'

'That was my doing,' said Dumbledore. 'Linus contacted me the moment he came home. And I've been in touch with the few other families whose homes were attacked. It is a miracle that no one was home when the Death Eaters came. All of the families--and there were not all that many--are those close to the Order. Voldemort may not know of the existence of the Order but he knows which families are his enemies. He's narrowed down his...field of suspects, as it were. In speaking with members of the families, it was agreed that it was vital to keep the entire matter under wraps. He repaired the damage to his home and I made contact with a small number of trusted fellows at the Ministry. Unless the Death Eaters decide to broadcast what they did--which I doubt, as they are operating in secrecy as much as we are--then as far as the general public is concerned, nothing whatsoever happened at the Lovegood house at all.'

'My contact assures me the Death Eaters are operating under strict orders of silence,' said Bill.

Ron glanced at his brother again, but didn't bother asking just who this 'contact' was. He looked round the room at the professors for a moment, and something began to nag him in the back of his mind. But he was so exhausted, he couldn't think of what it might be.

'Very well, then,' said Dumbledore. 'We can assume that the events at the Lovegood house, and the other houses, will remain unreported. But, as I said, Voldemort has narrowed the field. Among the possible candidates, apart from Luna, there cannot be more than ten witches who might qualify to be Morgan Le Fey's descendant.'

'So...he doesn't know about Luna,' said Harry.

'Not yet,' said Dumbledore. 'But it's only a matter of time.'

'Albus, why...why have you said nothing?' said McGonagall. Dumbledore looked at her and smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

'You know why, Minerva,' said Dumbledore. 'You know why.'

They looked at one another for a long moment, and, at least from what Ron could tell, McGonagall seemed to understand what he meant.

Another heavy silence permeated the room. Ron came back to himself fully and stood up, pushing the chair away. He glanced at Hermione, but she wouldn't look at him.

'Sir,' said Harry. 'Why would Voldemort attack people's houses if he knows the book is here? Isn't it a waste of time?'

'Ah, you noticed that, Harry,' said Dumbledore approvingly. 'The answer to that is simply that Voldemort is being more careful. He hasn't made any attempts on the school because the school is perhaps the most protected place in all of Britain. And he has not attacked the school because...I am here.'

'So...Luna's safe then,' said Ron.

'No,' said Dumbledore flatly. 'Not one of us is safe, Mr. Weasley. Not completely. The school is well protected, the safest place to be, to be certain, but it is not impenetrable. There is always a way around even the strongest protection magic. Voldemort has not attacked the school because he wants to be absolutely sure he knows who the descendant is. He will try to take the book, and the descendant, in one fell swoop. It's more...efficient that way.'

Ron nodded, and looked round the room again. Two years ago he would have begged to be included in the 'inner circle' of Order wizards and witches, deep in the thick of it, fighting Voldemort. But time and experience had changed Ron's mind. He didn't want any part of it. He hated this stupid war. He hated Voldemort for wanting to destroy all that was good in the world. He hated that his best mate was Voldemort's chief target. Most of all he wished he were eleven again, and learning about the fun and the joys of magic and getting into trouble with Harry. At that moment, Ron would have given his right arm to face an army of mountain trolls or three-headed dogs or a dozen Whomping Willows if it meant that Voldemort would just disappear forever.

And as his eyes took in the people in the room, the little nagging buzz in the back of his brain clunked into place. Someone was absent from these proceedings.

'Sir,' said Ron. 'Where's Professor Snape?'

To a one, everyone else's eyes snapped up sharply and settled on Ron. His eyes met Harry's.

'I'd like to know that too, sir,' said Harry, not looking at Dumbledore.

'I'm afraid I cannot divulge the reasons for Professor Snape's absence at this meeting,' said Dumbledore firmly. 'His business with the Order is confidential.'

'But sir--' Harry began.

'That is all I have to say, Harry,' said Dumbledore firmly.

Another long moment of silence. Nobody spoke as Dumbledore removed his glasses again, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked older and more tired than ever. Ron had never considered just how old the man must be, but ancient would be a more than appropriate word to describe the Headmaster's appearance at that moment.

Dumbledore replaced his spectacles and looked up again.

'I cannot emphasize,' he said, his voice sounding just slightly weak, 'how vital it is that tonight's discussion is kept strictly among those of us here in this room.' He cast another significant look at Harry.

'Harry, you are not to use Legilimency,' said Dumbledore. 'Not any more. Do you understand? It is entirely too dangerous. He will try and get inside your mind again, make no mistake. But you are not to go seeking him out. The risks, at this point, far outweigh any potential benefit. This is for Miss Lovegood's safety as much as for your own.'

'What of Miss Lovegood?' said Professor Flitwick, his normally squeaky voice low and grave. 'Do we tell her of what we know?'

'No,' said Dumbledore at once. 'If she learns that Voldemort is trying to get the book from her she might do something rash to protect it. She and the book are both safer this way. In the meantime we must continue outwardly as if we are not aware of what Voldemort is trying to do. The right people are backing us up on this; we have plenty of Aurors to handle the more dangerous aspects of our operation. But we cannot let Voldemort learn that we are on to him.'

'But, Headmaster,' said Bill, 'Luna might have told someone about the book already.'

'In that case,' said Dumbledore, 'I leave it to you to find out, in your Occlumency lessons, if that is indeed true.'

Bill held Dumbledore's eyes for a moment, then nodded. Ron swallowed. Somehow, the idea that Bill might read Ron's mind when Ron was thinking of Hermione in her knickers didn't seem all that important anymore.

'The four of you know to keep this under wraps,' said Dumbledore, looking at Ron and the others. 'I trust in your discretion. I must also ask that as of now, you stay out of this matter. As accomplished as you all are in your magical skills, you are still students. I do not wish a repeat of the events of last year.'

Harry looked down at his feet, his face a mask of shame. The four of them nodded silently.

'This meeting is over,' said Dumbledore. 'For now, we keep quiet. If Voldemort becomes aware that we know his plans, he will change course, and we will have to start all over again. As it is, if he tries to come here, we'll be ready for him, and we'll have a better chance of stopping him.'

Ron looked at Harry, who was still staring at his shoes.

'It's an awful risk, Albus,' said McGonagall fretfully.

Professor Sprout stepped forward. Ron noticed she was holding Susan's hand. She hadn't said a word up until now.

'You've never been one to keep secrets like this before,' she said.

Dumbledore smiled sadly and Ron saw him look right at Harry. That same sad look Ron had seen earlier in the old man's eyes came over him again.

'I wish I could say, Pomona, that you were right about that,' he said, and Ron noticed that Dumbledore's voice cracked just a bit.