Fear

At length, Ron ran out of Quidditch news for Harry, and made his way downstairs. He explained that he had organised a trip to Diagon Alley with Mrs Weasley to buy Hermione a birthday present for the following month of September. Harry thought that this was usually organised of Ron, though he supposed that between them they had probably exhausted the possibilities Hogsmeade had to offer.

After Ron had left the room, Harry sat alone on Ron's bed thinking, mainly about Quidditch, but also about what Hermione had promised to tell him about. He didn't have to think long, however, as Hermione entered the room and sat opposite him shortly after Ron had left it. She looked at him, as if waiting for him to ask what had happened, before starting to explain. He obliged her after a few moments.

"So what happened to Ron in the Department of Mysteries?" he asked.

"Well, obviously we couldn't go anywhere because I was unconscious and Ron was incoherent, so the members of the Order who were there defended us from the remaining Death Eaters until the Department was reopened by Dumbledore. That must have been after he'd Portkeyed you back to Hogwarts. That I was told, as I was still knocked out up to that point.

"Well someone revived my, I think it was Lupin, and when I came to I was aware that, apart from hurting quite a bit, Ron was still talking rubbish while Dumbledore bent over him. Dumbledore then used his wand to disentangle Ron from the brains' tentacles, and though he stopped spouting incoherent sentences something was still evidently wrong with him.

"Dumbledore explained afterwards that those brains contain more or less all the knowledge in the world - even magically protected knowledge like Secrets or even things that wizards don't or shouldn't know. And those tentacles transfer knowledge to whoever they envelope, with the knowledge that most concerns them first, if that makes sense.

"So obviously it's a rather useful thing to have access too. I think Dumbledore was concerned about Voldemort finding and using that, rather than any other kind of more 'traditional' weapon. I mean, he's already possessed of rather efficient ways of dispatching people. After your Prophecy was destroyed, the next logical target for Voldemort to lay his hands on was those brains, as they know what the prophecy contained.

"So Ron was, at that time, concerned with you and Sirius and probably me and Ginny, so he found out pretty much everything there is to know about all of us, and everything to do with us.

"Obviously that's a very large quantity of information, and a normal human brain can't deal with it all to process it into speech, even though the subject is very aware of everything they have found out. Dumbledore had no choice but to Obliviate him to remove all the knowledge, in order to allow him to speak again.

"So none of us knows precisely what he found out, but I think he still has an idea it was horrific - he hasn't been acting the same since then. Dumbledore had a suspicion that it was something to do with you and Voldemort, as that is what Ron was most concerned with at the time of the attack."

She finally finished speaking, and took a deep breath and a sip of water from a glass on her nightstand. Harry was lost for words - he felt as if he was feeling a little like Ron must have - too much information to process to be able to say anything about it. Hermione seemed to understand this, and didn't ask him anything or say any more, allowing him to absorb this news.

Harry was overwhelmed by the number of times she had used the word 'obviously', apart from anything else. Finally, he thought of something to say.

"So Ron still knows some of what he knew?" said Harry, the question sounding decidedly odd.

"Its more of he's aware he knew it, as opposed to still knowing elements of it," said Hermione, her face wearing a similar expression to Harry's as she thought about the logic of what she had said.

"Right," said Harry, thinking, "but Obvilivate isn't a particularly strong memory charm, couldn't Dumbledore have used something a little stronger, or more permanent?"

Hermione was now giving Harry one of her 'come on, think about it' looks, so he did.

"Ohh," he said softly, as it dawned on him, "he still knows it! You can't find out that much and then have it immediately erased by a single, weak memory charm. Dumbledore wants to use Ron to find out about Voldemort!"

"Ya-ha," said Hermione, her lips a little tight.

"Does Ron know that's what Dumbledore wants?" asked Harry, having felt used by Dumbledore the previous year.

"I don't know that he's been told, but I think he has a pretty good idea," she replied, "he's not stupid, and he's been having flashbacks while he sleeps too. And I bet it'll have a lot to do with what happened to you today. Tell me what happened."

Harry sighed, but realized that he didn't really have an excuse or even a reason not to tell her.

"Well Moody, Tonks and Snape arrived in Privet Drive to escort me here. Moody said that I would be traveling in a different way to normal, and it turned out to be by Phoenix Fire - I had to take a potion, which Snape had brought, and hold onto a Phoenix's feather.

"The feather caught fire, and I was engulfed as well, before Privet Drive vanished, then a few seconds later I was in a sort of limbo - before someone obviously summoned me here."

Hermione cut across him at this point, "so the potion was for what? To stop you getting burned?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied, feeling that she already knew what it was for anyway, before continuing his account.

"Anyway, during the first transport, I was completely surrounded by the orange Phoenix flames, and at the halfway place everything was grey. During the second leg though, the flames were darkening behind me. Then I saw a form moving through the flames before I was suddenly being caught up by green light."

"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione squeaked.

"Probably," said Harry, "if the journey had been any longer it'd have got me too."

"It must have been him we heard as you arrived," said Hermione quickly, "I bet he thought it would be an easy shot - while you couldn't do anything - and then have you arrive here dead."

Harry had to agree.

"Then he must have been in the Fire with you," Hermione continued, "because Phoenix Fire is one of the most secure ways to transport anything." Hermione sounded slightly awed that anyone could have the power to overcome something which, on paper at least, was almost utterly impervious to outside attack - mainly because nobody could know when or where it would start or finish.

"He must have known that you were going to be moved this morning, and he must have waiting in your 'halfway place'," she went on, thinking out loud more than talking to Harry. I don't know. I've never been able to find much on Phoenix Fires in books, because not many people have Phoenixes, so while most people know of it, nobody seems to have written, recently at least, about the mechanics of it."

"Someone'll know," said Harry, looking pointedly at Hermione.

"Mmm, and he's coming here to eat tonight," she said.

"Dumbledore's coming?" asked Harry, with mild surprise as Dumbledore had rarely been present at Grimmauld Place over the previous year. The last time Harry had seen Dumbledore he had destroyed several thousand Galleons worth of magical devices in Dumbledore's office, and while he was sure Dumbledore had repaired them with infinite ease, he didn't know how he would react to seeing him again, especially after all he had had to say at the end of the previous school year.

Harry then realized that he was dwelling not only on Ron and Hermione and Ginny and the rest of his friends, but on someone else too.

"And nobody's had any luck finding Malfoy?" he asked, tentatively.

"No," replied Hermione, "but I think Dumbledore has a theory on that too."

Harry sighed, Hermione had a lot of theories, and generally they didn't turn up to be far wrong.

"Go on," he said.

"Well, think about it," that was the other thing Harry liked to dislike about Hermione's theories, they generally involved thinking, "who's the only person at Hogwarts who can really get to you? The only one who you've spent most of your school career to date trying to outdo? And then think who would skills like that be most useful to?"

"Draco Malfoy and Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked, knowing he was right, "respectively," he added.

"Exactly. Also, Malfoy has the added bonus of being around you when you're your most passionate."

Harry was taken aback slightly by this, but before he could say anything, Hermione continued.

"QUIDDITCH," she whispered, "you get each other so riled up about it, and when can Voldemort affect you most, Harry? When your emotions run high! I'd say Voldemort struck gold when Lucius and Narcissa got arrested. Now he has unprecedented access to the one who can really get your hair up."

Harry leant backed against the headboard of Ron's bed, thinking about all this. He didn't really like the way Hermione had worded her explanation, 'when you're at your most passionate'. He had often wondered inwardly about what it was about Malfoy that got him so riled up, made it so imperative for Harry to beat him, but had never been able to put his finger on any specific thing. Then Hermione had said 'passion', and Harry had had a very odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was not unlike whatever he may have felt at any time he had beaten Malfoy at anything in the past, but it didn't seem like a pleasant version of that feeling. He pressed the emotion way back down into the pit of his stomach, where he couldn't feel it. He didn't want to, and he didn't need to.

"Can't even go outside and play Quidditch," he complained, feeling moody once again, as he had so much over the past year. Hermione seemed like she wanted to sigh or get exasperated, but knew it wouldn't help.

"Well we can find something to do inside then, can't we," she said brightly. "You know, as long as Mrs Weasley doesn't see you can use magic in here. It's completely undetectable by the Ministry."

This cheered Harry a little, he liked to use magic, and the opportunity to use it would make the proposition of three more weeks indoors a little more manageable.

That evening Dumbledore came to Grimmauld Place for dinner. He greeted Harry cheerily, though was evidently still wary of how Harry might react to him. Harry however had decided to forgive Dumbledore, had managed to appreciate that the old man had been acting in Harry's best interests, even though he had arguably made a mistake. He had, however, promised not to keep information from Harry in the future, and Harry wanted to give him the opportunity to do this. He also wanted to see Dumbledore extend the same courtesy to Ron, in terms of what he wanted Ron to do.

After dinner everybody remained seated at the kitchen table. Finally Dumbledore wiped his mouth and spoke.

"I suppose you all want to hear what I'm here for," he began. He sounded slightly less weary than he had when Harry had last heard him speak. "Well, apart from wanting to see for myself that Harry arrived safely and wasn't too undernourished," he allowed everyone at the table a small laugh, though Mrs Weasley snorted and flared her nostrils, "and wanting to wish him a happy birthday for tomorrow as I can't be here for that, I need to talk to Ronald."

Ron looked up from the spot on the floor he had been staring at and looked surprised, but very worried.

"Me?" he said, but his voice was shaking again, so his attempted curiosity was lost behind his nervousness. Mrs Weasley moved over behind him and squeezed his shoulders.

"Everybody here is aware of what happened to you a few weeks ago so I think it would be acceptable," he looked up at Mrs Weasley, "for me to speak in front of everyone?" She nodded, rather fiercely.

"Well Ron, the brains that you got caught up in at the Department of Mysteries, as I'm sure you're aware, contain a very great deal of knowledge, and..."

"We all know that part of the story," Ron said, cutting Dumbledore off in his nervousness to hear what Dumbledore wanted. He earned the sympathy of almost everyone in the room, except Mrs Weasley, from whom he earned a slightly sharper squeeze of his shoulders, and a trace of a scowl.

"Of course," said Dumbledore quickly, you must forgive me - one does tend to go on a bit as one ages." He paused again, as if for thought, then continued. "You will also be aware, I'm sure, that the memory charm I placed upon you that night was not a particularly strong one. Powerful, maybe, but not strong enough to prevent you from recalling at least some of what you knew that night, at a rate at which you can deal with the information without it inhibiting your speech once again.

"I realize that this may be a distressing proposition for you, however I believe that the information you may yield could be highly useful in our fight against the Dark side. I have spoken with both your parents, and they are both happy for you to volunteer," he stressed the word, "to help us. The final decision, of course, lies with you. If you do not wish to relive the memories, I should be happy to wipe them forever. If you do choose to relive them, I will do as you wish in relation to destroying them when the time comes."

Ron gulped audibly.

"I have started remembering things that I didn't know I knew," he said, sounding quite frightened. "Horrible stuff," he looked quickly up at Harry, before staring back down at the floor. "About all sorts of Dark stuff."

"What sort of stuff," asked Mrs Weasley, sounding a little impatient, as she always did if she felt that Great Or Important People were being messed around.

"It's OK, Molly," said Dumbledore calmly, "let him take his time. It will also be easier for him later, without everyone else watching."

The people round the table, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Snape took this as their cue to leave. Hermione led Harry and Ginny up to her and Ron's bedroom, Mr and Mrs Weasley withdrew to the drawing room, and Snape went into the cellar to deal with some problem Flobberworms, who had built a small colony down there.

Up in Hermione's room, Hermione sat down on Ron's bed, while Ginny and Harry sat side by side on Hermione's.

"I wonder what Dean would say if he saw us on the same bed," Ginny said, her voice shaking a little, giving away her nervousness, "everyone knows I've always had a thing for you. Harry reddened, despite himself, and Hermione giggled a little. The mirth was stifled, however, by the fact that everyone was wondering precisely what Ron had been shown by the mysterious brains.

"I hope Ron doesn't get stopped up again by the memories," said Hermione.

"He shouldn't do," Ginny replied, "Dumbledore said the memory charm would help. Harry was feeling a little like he had the previous summer, in that everyone else in the room had more idea of what was going on than he did, but he didn't feel angry about it this year. He supposed that was because he considered that it was his fault that Ron had been attacked by them in the first place. After all it had been he, Harry, who had led his friends in to the Ministry, where harm had befallen them. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he though about the anguish Ron was probably experiencing. Harry also had experience with trying to relate painful memories to Albus Dumbledore. On occasion Harry had become annoyed by Dumbledore's calmness in the fact of horrific facts, but it was the same patient understanding that made him feel so much better every time he finished. His eyes refocused as he returned from his thoughts to the room, and he became aware that Ginny and Hermione were both looking at him.

"It was not your fault," said Hermione again.

Harry let his gaze fall again. They could say that over and over, but he wouldn't stop either feeling bad or apologizing for it.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"We've been through this, Harry," said Ginny gently, "you don't blame you for anything except being brave and loyal, so please stop blaming yourself."