Harry Potter and the Dance of the Warrior

Chapter Nine: The Meeting

Hermione sat with her legs tucked under her, at one end of the comfy sofa in the family room at the Burrow. She was alone there; the Weasley's were all at work, or in the case of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley running errands. An open book sat on her lap, a very normal posture for her. Not normal though was the fact that she wasn't deeply engrossed in her newest book. No, her eyes darted to the carriage clock every few moments on the mantle, waiting for noon. Today she was going to work with Harry. She had been looking forward to this. He had learned so many fascinating things that she was dying to try.

She also hoped that finally they might be able speak about relationships like adults. God only knew she could use some input especially his, since he was the tall, handsome, red headed git's best friend. Things were always so awkward with Ron. His petty jealousy and his lack of any kind of tact were always sending her mixed signals. The fact of the matter was she was getting fed up; she was fast loosing her patience at waiting on the big goon to make the first move. But whenever she got so fed up he would do some small thing, usually when they were alone, like take her hand or give her a warm private smile that would curl her toes. The feeling of being fed up would disappear for a while again. She sighed heavily. Then there was the wedding this Saturday, why couldn't he just straight out ask her to go with him. No, instead he has to beat around the bush. Phrases like 'Well since you're invited anyway we could just act like we were together,' or 'well since you don't have a date when I have to dance, we could together.' She sighed again, her eyes darting to the clock again.

She thought of Harry again, they all knew something had happened yesterday. They were all questioned at length by Mrs. Weasley to his whereabouts. They were all a little anxious about where he had gone and more importantly, why. No one thought Harry would do something like going out for no good reason. Especially after the last day he was outside. When Bill finally returned to the Burrow he told her, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley that Harry really hadn't left, he had been working in his trunk the whole day. Bill had to explain to his mum what a sorcerer's trunk was. They were all relieved, but the look on Bill's face clearly said more had happened. When Ron said offhandedly that it was stupid they had all forgotten about the trunk Mrs. Weasley turned a furious glare at them. All the anxiety she felt turned to anger at the three of them. How could they forget a tiny bit of information that would have saved her all that worry? Hermione noticed that she seemed even more protective when it came to Harry, and Harry and Ginny, looking happy and distraught all the time when it came to him and them. Later on that evening when the twins came home from the shop, Ron had cornered them. Demanding to know what else happened. Bill gave the twins only limited details, but he had mentioned Snape was involved.

Hermione had been looking forward to working with Harry until she learned about this. She wasn't sure if she could deal with him in the midst of his fury. If she was honest with herself she had to admit that in the midst of his fury like before they went to the ministry or when Snape had attacked Harry at Grimmauld place, she was a bit frightened of him.

"Hmm, more than a bit," she muttered to herself.

Those two times she felt the pure power of one of her best friends her almost brother, and it scared the hell out of her. It was very near the way she felt the one time she saw Dumbledore angry. She knew he would never hurt her, any of them, she knew that in her heart. Harry would literally get himself killed to save one of them. But his anger and power that she knew was far beyond her own still made her nervous.

At exactly noon she entered the fireplace at the Burrow and was soon spinning her way to Grimmauld Place. She looked around the gloomy room and immediately felt guilty about her negative thoughts about Harry. First spending the beginning of the holiday locked in his bedroom in a house full of people that despised him, then to be alone most of the time in this gloomy old house and to top it all of that had happened, Harry's birthday passed without anyone realizing it. She was sure that no one even had remembered to wish him a happy one. Well Mrs. Weasley had a plan to rectify it. Sunday, the day after the wedding there would be a party for him, a surprise party. She smiled at the thought.

"Harry, Harry I'm here!" She called up the stairs.

"In here," said his voice from the kitchen.

Hermione's smile fled when she saw him. He stood chopping something at the counter. Three books propped up in front of him. He was reading as he worked. He didn't look over as she entered the room. From his profile she saw he was as pale as she had ever seen him. She also noticed the heavy bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Just give me a moment Hermione, I have only a minute before these roots need to be put in," he said in soft almost sorrowful voice.

"Ok Harry," she said in what she hoped was a bright voice. It was then she noticed the cauldron bubbling in the hearth. She also noticed that his hands shook every so often as he worked.

After a moment Harry had dumped the ingredients into the potion and he turned to her. He gave her a weak smile and said, "Sorry about that."

She returned the smile though she prayed it was brighter than his and said, "No problem, what are you brewing?"

"Wolf's Bane potion."

Her eye's widened slightly, "Really?" she almost squealed in delight, "Oh, I hear it's an oh so difficult potion to brew."

He shrugged turning to the center book, "Takes about fifteen hours, the ingredient timetable is a bit rough though. Never tried a potion that had to be done so precisely."

The tone of his voice seemed to be trying to pull the smile off her face, but she held firm, "So ready to get to some work?"

He nodded then paused for a second. His face contorted, she thought he was going to burst into tears. It took only a moment before he composed himself. He said in a voice that almost brought tears to her eyes, "I made some copies of the Merlin's notes for you." He gestured over to a pair of books and a few rolls of parchment, "I thought you might like to take a crack at them."

She didn't have to force the smile; this was something totally fascinating. Something not many had ever attempted. She saw Harry's slight smile at the expression on her face. His voice didn't change though, "Don't get too excited yet, Dumbledore told me one of the pages he did took him over a year."

Hermione gaped at him, "Over a year? Ooh, did he tell you what was written on the page?"

Harry stared dumbly at her, with a shake of his head as if to say 'How stupid am I?' but actually said, "I never thought to ask."

"Ok, come sit down next to me and I think I can sort of help you start."

They sat at the head of the table; Harry picked up one of the books and handed it to her. It was old, the leather torn in places and the gilding largely worn away. "The old witch who gave me the copies of the pages also gave me this book, it was written by her great uncle. He managed in his lifetime to decode; I think he said in the book, two dozen pages."

Hermione noticed a slight change in Harry's voice. This was the voice he used in the D.A., this was the voice of Harry the teacher. She smiled to herself; he really was an excellent teacher. He seemed so confident in his knowledge. And when he was teaching he had the patience of a saint. Neville at the start of the D.A. was the typical blundering Neville but Harry always encouraged, and always praised. The praise never sounded false either, it always sounded heartfelt. People seemed to learn when he taught and yearned to learn more from him.

Harry continued, "Ok, how to begin," he paused, "See I sorta blundered my way through and I think I got really lucky," he said. Somehow Hermione couldn't get herself to believe a word of it, not now anyway.

"Ok," he started again after a few moments, "Well these pages are locked. It's a kind of combination lock; I think that's the best way to describe it. Only instead of putting in numbers you need to do a spell on the page.

His voice seemed to be picking up strength and his face brightened a bit as he spoke. "You know how spells are put into categories according to the base spell form?"

"Sure we learned a lot about it in Charms class over the past few years."

He smiled a little wider, "Maybe you did Hermione, the rest of us are trying to catch up on what we slept through."

She tried to look disapproving, but with his despair lifting she couldn't even manage a halfhearted scowl. So she giggled and frowned.

"So Merlin used spells in each of the seven categories, and from what I've read he never used any spells from the dark magic categories. Well anyway, the right spell in the right order from each category will unlock the page to your eyes, your eyes only though.

"Oh, and you only get three chances on the spell before the spell resets itself with a new combination."

Hermione gaped at him, and he says 'he blundered through it?'

At her expression Harry said, "Yeah I know, he was ruddy brilliant. I couldn't even begin to figure out how he cast such a complex spell."

He had gotten her expression wrong, but she didn't correct him. "But then. . . how do you figure it out?"

Harry was quiet for a moment tapping his fingers on the table, trying to sort out the words. Eventually he said, "You have to sort of have to feel it. Let's face it Hermione, you're a pretty powerful witch for your age. I think you might be at a level where you can sort of feel some magic around you."

She could almost understand that, almost but not quite. He continued though, "After you cast the spell you can sort of feel its reactions on the page. As you grow stronger you'll start to be able to tell the spell cast just by sense." After seeing her blank look he said, "Hmm, lets try this," he unrolled one of the parchments and placed it in front of her. He instructed her to place one hand on each end of the page, then to relax and close her eyes.

Harry first placed his hands over hers and then spoke in a soft, soothing, almost ethereal voice, "Clear your mind now.

"Slowly push all thought out of your mind.

"Try to block out all of your senses, one by one . . . just listen to my voice and open up your magic.

"Feel your magic deep down inside you, slowly bring it to surface.

Harry didn't know where he was getting these words and procedure from but it almost felt as if his own magic was guiding hers. He didn't remember it from any time with the Warriors, but it seemed to be working. It had all taken some time before Hermione sat limply across from him, then some more time before he felt the slight tingle of her magic under his hands.

He smiled to himself; his thoughts clear for a time. "Excellent," he whispered, "Now I'm going to cast a spell on the page. Try not to listen to the incantation, rather try and feel the magic and the pages reaction to it.

"Impedimenta," Harry muttered, his wand trained on the page.

"Ooh, I felt something," she said in a distant voice.

"Excellent, it seems I got the right category right off, but not the right spell. I'll show you what it feels like when you cast the totally wrong spell now."

"Relashio," he said as a small gout of sparks shot from his wand.

"Could you sense the difference?"

Hermione's eyes opened and she smiled. "Yes I did!"

Harry gave her a tired smile in return. "Good, now you have more information to start out with than I did. Between these two books you should find most of the spells, and of course the first book has a lot of background information if you need it.

"Have fun. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask."

She nodded and opened the first book, beginning to scan the pages. She saw Harry get up and get the books he had propped up on the counter, along with parchment, ink and quills. He took a seat across from her and began to read the two books.

Hermione watched Harry every so often as she was working. It was almost as interesting as what she was working on was watching him. After a time he had summoned several more books, and she watched as he seamlessly read several pages from one then went onto the next and so on. He made notes on several different parchments as he went. The scratching of the quill had a mesmerizing effect on her as she engrossed herself in her own work.

She was unsure of how long she was working when she noticed that she didn't hear the quill anymore. After another failed attempt on the second spell of the lock she looked up at Harry. The heels of his palms were rubbing his eyes then face. After a moment she noticed his hands shaking fiercely, and then he lowered them. When she saw his face she almost burst into tears. The look of abject misery and what looked like terror covered his face. He wasn't looking at her; he was sort of staring out into space. She glanced down and saw several more parchments with writing covering them. She noticed one looked like a letter, to a Mr. Thatcher. She wondered where she had heard that name before.

She watched his terrible expression for several minutes before she said softly, "Harry, are you alright? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer for several minutes, at first she didn't think he had heard her, but suddenly he came back to himself. She noticed the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "What? Oh nothing Hermione, I just. . . I just have a lot of things on my mind. It's nothing."

It was obviously a lie. There was obviously a big something. Hermione thought about what to say as he got up and went to the counter. He took the mortar and pestle and began to grind some ingredients; she supposed they were the next to go into the cauldron. After watching him for several moments she said quietly, "You know Ginny, Ron and I got letters from Sirius yesterday too."

He nodded, but didn't turn to look at her. "I know, he told me in his letter. Said he also left you three a bit of money too." Harry paused for a long moment then said in a voice that cracked slightly, "He really liked you, you know? He said you were my Remus. Our voice of reason he called you."

Hermione wasn't sure if he laughed or sobbed. Hermione felt tears start down her own cheeks, she thought to go over and comfort him, but as she thought to rise he was already moving over to the cauldron. He spent quite some time sprinkling in whatever it was he just crushed and slowly stirred the bubbling potion. After some time he turned back to her and the table, his eyes were dry but the expression was roughly the same. He walked back over to the table not meeting her eyes; picked up the letter and seemed to read it through once before folding it, ready to send.

Hermione didn't know the letter Harry had just written was to Colin Thatcher. He was of course an Elder of the Wizengamot, former head of the Auror's and a wizard with much knowledge of fighting against the dark forces. The letter wasn't a plea for someone to stand by his side in battle like was offered in the letter Harry had received with the book. No, he had asked for information about experts not only in the dark arts, but people who had studied Voldemort. Harry needed to try to track down the rituals Voldemort had gone through, to find out the extent of what powers he received from them. He also needed to figure out something about the immortality spells he had invented and cast on himself. Lastly, he needed to know what the rebirthing ritual had given him and what had been taken away. Harry wasn't sure how but he felt certain that Voldemort still wasn't the powerhouse of a wizard that he once was.

Hermione hadn't always agreed with Sirius. She often thought he was too reckless when it came to what Harry was doing last year, not really parent like. She was also more than once suspicious of his feelings, but she had really liked him. She felt guilty about those thoughts now though. She did however know what he meant to Harry. She thought Dumbledore was right when he spoke to her and the Weasleys at the end of term, about how Harry felt about Sirius, a combination of father and brother. He of course was right about that. She knew him being killed was tearing Harry apart inside, and being alone almost all of the time didn't leave anyone to try and draw him out. Today though, she didn't exactly know why, but she was getting a strong suspicion that something more than the letter from Sirius was doing this to him. She couldn't put her finger on how or why she felt that way, but she was sure she was right. "Harry," she asked quietly, "You do know I'm here if you need to talk, right?"

Harry thought about it for a time, 'How could I tell her. How can I tell her or anyone?' To Hermione he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts for a moment then said, "Uh, yeah. Thanks Hermione."

She thought to try to keep him talking; perhaps she could break in a bit and get him to open up. As he started to write another letter, which she saw was addressed to Madam Armenia something or the other she said, "Ron and I got our O.W.L. results yesterday, did you?" She was actually impressed with herself for her restraint in not yelling out her results soon as she exited the fireplace.

Harry nodded, "Uh, yeah. . . uh, how did you two do?" he asked without lifting his gaze from the letter.

She couldn't stop her brimming joy at her results, she nearly squealed again when she told him, "I got fourteen; I got all Outstanding plus extra on each exam to get that many."

Harry looked up and gave her another small smile, "And Ron?" he asked.

"Nine, he did oh so well, and since he got the same as Charlie had, Mrs. Weasley couldn't complain about it." Harry heard her brimming with pride.

"He didn't get any extra points on his exams, but he got the O's where he needed them."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything.

Hermione asked cautiously, "How did you do?"

Harry looked blankly at her for a moment. His eyes darting around the table as if looking for the letter, then said, "I . . . uh. . . I never got a chance to look.

"You see. . . uh, all the post, came at once. . . I just didn't have. . . and then yesterday with Snape and Dumbledore. . . I just. . .

"Uh, would you like a Butter Beer. . . or uh, maybe some tea. . ." he snapped up and began to busy himself making tea without even waiting for an answer.

Hermione waited quietly, just watching him. She couldn't imagine what was going on in his head right now. He looked so tense, so nervous, so frightened. She wasn't sure, but the only time she could remember Harry ever being frightened was before his first Quidditch match and that was in their first year. He set the tea down in front of them several minutes later. He sat across from her without looking her in the eye. Almost immediately he began to loose himself in work. She watched him for quite some time as he went from tome to tome, his eyes racing across the pages. His quill jotting down notes from each of the parchments and at the same time writing a letter to that Armenia person. She was so very curious as to what he was working on, but she didn't want to break his concentration though. The work seemed to be the only thing holding him together right now. She sighed to herself, at a complete loss as to what to say or do. So the pair of them ended up working in silence for hours on end.

At nearly six in the evening the pair heard the front door open. A moment later they both hear the voice of Remus calling up the stairs, "Harry! Harry!"

Harry snapped up and raced into the living room, Hermione followed close behind. "Remus what's wrong, what's happened. Why are you back a day early?"

Hermione and Remus Lupin both heard the anxiousness in his voice; actually it seemed on the verge of panic. Most un-Harry like. At least the several hours of uninterrupted work had calmed him a bit. His expression wasn't much better but at least she noticed that his hands were steady.

Remus gave the two a tired smile and said, "Nothings wrong, just finished up a bit early. I received a letter from Sirius yesterday," he pause uncertainly, "I just wanted to be sure you were all right."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," he paused, "Uh, you, uh, you've had a long journey. Why don't I make us some more tea?" Without waiting an answer or for them to follow he made his way to the kitchen.

Hermione and Remus shared a long look and she said very quietly, "I don't know Remus; he's barely said a word that wasn't work related. Well at least he's better then when I first got here."

Remus heard the uncertainty and sadness in her voice; he laid a concerned hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Before we go in there," she said, "you should know that something else happened yesterday. I don't know the details, but I think Harry and Professor Snape went at it again."

Remus sighed deeply, after a moment then said, "Thanks Hermione, I'll get the story from Professor Dumbledore later on."

When they entered the kitchen they saw Harry marking the pages in all the books he was working with and rolling up the parchments. The teakettle was over the fire to the opposite side of the potion. Remus and Hermione sat on the opposite side from Harry and watched him quietly. Remus was almost as concerned as Hermione.

After packing his books up, Harry had served tea. He didn't sit with them though. When it looked like Remus was about to begin speaking to Harry, he went over to the counter and began preparing more potions ingredients. Hermione looked over at Remus and saw a very hurt expression on his face. She quickly leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I think that is the only way he can deal with things right now. He has to keep his mind and hand busy, if he doesn't. . ." she trailed off but gave him a dark look.

Remus looked at her for a moment; at the expression on her face gave a soft nod. The hurt moved off his face a bit. He looked now as if he were trying to figure out what to say. He looked lost; he was staring at Harry's back in distress.

Harry suddenly called out, making the pair start, "Falcore!" With a flash of fire the stunning creature appeared just over his shoulder, setting down softly. "Will you please deliver this for me?" Harry pulled the folded parchment from his pocket.

Falcore gave a bright chirp before taking it in his beak and apparated away without Harry having to say another word.

Hermione looked over at Remus, seeing him not ready yet to speak to Harry decided to fill in the silence, "Harry, how did Falcore know where to go without you telling him who the letter was for?"

Harry paused in what he was doing and turned to look at her, "But I did." he smiled slightly at her blank look, "Not sure how it works exactly, I haven't had the time to look into it. I can send Falcore mental images or where I want him to go, or in this case who I want him to go to."

Remus decided to try to continue talking to Harry about this, as it seemed to sooth him. "You know Dumbledore only uses Fawkes to send messages of importance Harry. You should always be aware of the message you are saying when you use a phoenix for something as simple as the post. People tend to have odd ways of viewing things."

Harry nodded, considering what Remus had just told him. "I reckon you're right about that," he paused then said, "Well in this case I believe I was right to send Falcore."

Remus clearly looked as if he wanted to ask to whom the letter was written to, but Harry had already turned back to his work. The spark of life he held for a moment was gone from his posture as he did.

Remus still was unsure of what to say as they heard the front door open again. In a moment they all heard Mundungus's voice, "'Allo everyone!"

Harry whirled around, a broad smile on his face for the first time today, "Dung! How you doing? You feeling alright!" he said as he strode over and clasped hands with the shady wizard.

"Ah 'Arry, I'ms right a'rain, I am," he said.

"Come, sit down. You want a cup of tea?"

"Ah, I could doa wit somethin stronger."

"Sure, sure," he said as he strode over to the cupboard and got out a half full bottle of Odgen's Old Fire Whisky.

"Ah, thanks 'Arry."

"Uh, Dung, uh, listen," the smile fading from Harry's face, "I, uh, I'm sorry you got hurt that day. And I uh, I should have come see you in St. Mungo's. I, uh, sorry." They all saw how the ache of guilt took over his face. Hermione and Remus ached to go over and comfort him.

Mundungus on the other hand was looking uncomfortable over Harry's words. "Look 'Arry, I know you couldn't stop in an see me at St. Mungo's, don worry yur'self about that. An'I should be thankin you for saving me. I saw the way you was duelin'em.'

Harry didn't have the chance to respond as two distinctive pops came from the living room. A moment later Kingsley and Mr. Weasley entered. Greetings were exchanged all around as Harry heard the living room fireplace emit another pop. Professor McGonagall entered next. In the next five minutes the kitchen was quite full. Harry got the last of his things together as Professor Dumbledore entered the room. He exchanged happy greetings with everyone there. But when he and Harry's eyes locked the happy expression slid off his face. Everyone in the room seemed to quiet as the two stared at each other. Dumbledore couldn't read Harry's expression and neither could anyone else. His look was almost accusatory. It did though make the headmaster very uncomfortable. It was as if the boy was trying to bore into his very soul to find the answers he sought.

"Good evening Harry," Dumbledore said kindly to the terrible expression that faced him.

Harry in turn never shifted his gaze, but gave a slight nod.

Dumbledore matched the gaze and thought in consternation, 'what have you learned now Harry?'

Silence reined in the kitchen, with each person watching first Harry, then Dumbledore. It stayed that way till Mrs. Weasley's bright face entered. She looked at the scene with concern. Her concern redoubled as she observed Harry's terrible demeanor. "Hello everyone, hello Harry dear." She said as she walked over to him and took his arm. "Ginny will be over in a few minutes with dinner for the two of you, why don't you go up to the drawing room to wait for her."

Harry broke away from looking at his headmaster, turned his head and gave her a small smile and nod. He collected his books and parchment under one arm and let himself be steered towards the door.

He paused for a moment and said to Hermione, "Uh, you can borrow those books for a while. I don't need them right now."

Hermione smiled at him as she began gathering her things, "Thanks Harry, it was fun today."

He nodded to her and started towards the door again, but paused again to say to the headmaster, "I have a potion brewing; I need to add some ingredients in about an hour and a half. I won't be more than a few minutes." His voice lacked any emotion, making most in the room very uncomfortable.

"Of course Harry."

As he left the room he heard Professor McGonagall say, "Miss Grainger, will you please wait a moment, I need a word with you."

He made his way up to the drawing room and plopped down on one end of the sofa, dropping his books onto the table. He sat staring off into space as his mind whirled with decisions that needed to be made. Really they weren't decisions though, more like just the way things were. Still what he learned last night . . .

Harry wasn't certain how long he sat there. He hadn't heard Ginny come into the room, or place the tray down on the table before them. He hadn't realized anything she said till he felt a soft hand caress the side of his face. It was then he looked over and saw the look of concern on her face.

He tried to make his face bright, but he felt tears in his eyes as he looked at her pretty face and into her concerned bright brown eyes. "Hi Ginny, sorry I didn't hear you come in."

Ginny watched him for a few moments and said softly, "It's ok Harry. Come on lets eat before it gets cold. I'm starved."

Ginny heaped food onto his plate and made herself a much smaller one. The pair sat in silence for a time. Harry really had no hunger and he played with his food rather than ate. Ginny tried several times to make small talk but to no real avail.

She sighed to herself, 'Maybe I should just be direct with him. Force him to talk to me about Sirius,' she thought miserably. After receiving the letter from him yesterday she had cried alone in her room for a good long time.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat crowed around the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Well, the order members plus two. Ron and Hermione sat at one side of the table between Mr. Weasley and the twins, looking most uncomfortable.

"I've called you all here tonight, not so much as members of the Order of the Phoenix," he began, "but instead to discuss Harry. I don't have to tell some of you how important to our cause he is."

He looked over to Ron and Hermione and said, "I realize this puts you in a most awkward position. Your loyalty to your friend is very important," he paused giving them a very stern look before continuing, "But I'm more concerned with keeping him alive and well.

He looked around at the table and continued, "Harry has information and magical items that could be dangerous. I also believe he has been in contact with other witches and wizards unknown to me.

"This is most distressing to me, as we know the cunning of our enemy. Harry is still too young to be able to judge these things for himself."

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Remus spoke, "I don't know what exactly were your reasons for keeping me, us, from seeing Harry when he was with the muggles," he took a deep breath, "We left him alone with no one to turn to, no shoulder to cry on so to speak, so it seems to me his only recourse was to throw himself whole heartedly into work as his only means of survival both in battle and for his sanity. Hermione and I both saw evidence of that today. That on top of the other information you gave him. . ." he ended cryptically.

Hermione nodded her agreement at the first part, not understanding the last. She after all had seen the perfect example of that today.

"Remus, my decision to isolate Harry at his family's home, was for his own safety, as I thought it would be a bad idea for wizarding guests to be seen entering the house. It could draw too much attention. I thought as well that he had to make peace with matters in his own for a time. He was after all with his family, and I had thought that if he needed this shoulder to cry on they would be there for him."

Ron snorted derisively, turning to Dumbledore he said, "You're kidding, right?"

Everyone at the table was shocked at his tone towards Dumbledore. Molly snapped, "Ron!" in a tone that could have skinned a man alive.

Ron was actually very surprised with himself. Turning to his mother he silenced her with a look; he ignored the table full of adults staring at him and continued, "Those ruddy muggles always hated him. They proved how far that hate went by betraying him. Even if it hadn't gone that far and Harry was desperate enough for someone to talk to by taking the chance of talking with them, they would've just used it to hurt him. They like to hurt him, they like it a lot. I know only half of what they did to him over the years, and the half I know boils my blood enough to want to go over to Privet Drive and show those lousy muggles what a wizard can do.

He said very quietly to Dumbledore, "if you knew only the half I knew you'd be up there on your knees begging Harry for forgiveness for dumping him there.

"And now, when he thinks he's abandoned and forced into doing it all on his own you want us to tell you the small scraps of information he shared with us?" Ron shook his head darkly.

The table around him was silent. Most mouths were slightly agape at his rant. Hermione on the other hand was beaming at him and her pride was evident. She saw the Weasley temper on high boil, but he controlled it enough to make his point. 'He really is growing up,' she thought nearly astonished. She took his hand underneath the table and gave it a squeeze. He turned to look at her, when their eyes met her heart skipped a beat. He returned the squeeze then returned to looking out over the table.

"I admit I've made many mistakes when it comes to Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, "But this situation is too important. These books and things he has, these wizards he's talking to. It's very easy for a wizard in Harry's position to lose his way. There are many dangers you two and he are too young to fully comprehend."

"I ask any of you who have any information, any small thing that Harry said even in passing, to please share it."

After a few moments, "A couple of times when he wrote to check in he asked me some questions about spell work. You know, from an Auror's point of view. I don't remember them right off, but most of them were spells the Death Eaters favored the last time. He also asked me some about Auror tactics. Bloody good questions he asked too." This was Moody.

Remus sighed and added, "He asked questions of me also, mostly about dark magic and its counters. He also asked about some questions that were beyond my knowledge."

Dumbledore's gaze hadn't left Ron and Hermione and after having his gaze on her for so long she finally spoke in a miserable voice, "I saw him writing a couple of letters today," she paused a moment to clear her voice and then said, "One I only got the first name Armenia, the second was to a Mr. Thatcher. I know that name sounds familiar but I couldn't place it."

"So Harry is in touch with Colin," Moody grumbled, "Well at least we know he's not dark."

Dumbledore nodded, "Colin may not be the best influence on him though. I consider Colin a friend but he has always had the habit of jumping into battle first and asking questions later. Many a time only his knowledge and skill have kept him alive in situations he shouldn't have even been in."

Dumbledore sighed as comments crossed the table, "If I would have to guess who the Armenia person is, I would have to say it would be Armenia Poinsettia."

"Oh," Hermione said, "Didn't she write that book, The Rise and fall of a Dark Lord?"

Professor McGonagall gave her a small smile and said, "Yes, Miss Granger."

Molly noticed the twins glance at each other more than once, seeming to be having a silent conversation. She gave them a hard look and said sharply, "What do you two know about this?" Everyone quieted then.

It was a long moment before, "We took care of the trunk and a lot of the gear for Harry," Fred said into the silence.

"And we'd do it for him again if he asked," George put in, "But we don't know what else he got, all he asked was for us to pick up all his things, put it in the trunk and ship it on the Knight Bus."

"Fred, George!" Molly shrieked.

"An'I got'em some books," Mundungus said quietly, "He told me who to talk to, an'I made the deals, I fi'gured I owed him after the Dementors las year."

"What books?!?" Professor McGonagall asked heatedly.

"Mundungus I don't know what's wrong with you! How could you just. . ." Molly's outraged voice was cut off.

All the adult members were talking loudly now. Several discussions were going on at once, each person trying to make his or her own point known.

Hermione spoke loudly now, over everyone else. She hung onto Ron's hand a bit harder for reassurance, "Harry said on the night he came to Grimmauld Place that he would not be alive if not for that trunk and those things." She turned to Mad-eye and asked in a quieter voice, "You were there, at the end. Would he have survived?"

Moody looked at her for a moment before shaking his head, "No lass, I do believe he would be dead now."

"But that's my point exactly, if not for those things Harry might not have gone out that day and faced the three. He might not have even had to face that danger. As you said earlier there is no love lost between he and his relatives, he might not have gone out."

Ron spoke again, "You're not serious? If you think that Professor, well, you don't know Harry. You don't know him at all."

Hermione spoke is a soft voice, "Before he went out to face them, I spoke to him. I tried to convince him not to go. He said he couldn't let anyone else be hurt because of him."

The pair had finished eating dinner and sat quietly side by side on the sofa. Ginny had yet not been able to get Harry to say more than a word or two at a time. She reached up and stroked his hair. Something was odd about it, "Harry, how is it that your hair so much longer than it was when I washed and brushed it for you?"

He turned to look at her, "It's the magic."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the amount of magic I've been using. I reckon I use more magic now in a day than we'd use in a couple or maybe even three weeks at school. I've been forcing my magic to grow, to develop. That in turn makes my body work a lot harder; somehow I think that causes things like hair and fingernails to grow faster. Actually I think I've grown an inch or three taller since we left school."

She frowned at him, "I've never heard of something like that before. Stand up!" she ordered him.

He obliged her easily as she looked him up and down. After a minute she said, "You're right I think you are taller.

The stood facing each other when she said softly, "You know I got a letter from Sirius yesterday too."

He nodded, sitting back down, not looking at her.

"I miss him," she said.

Harry only nodded.

They sat in silence for a time before Harry managed to say, "Did your mum give you all a hard time. You know about going to the ministry with me? I've been kinda afraid to ask."

She took his hand before she spoke, "First night back from school. We had a family discussion."

He raised an eyebrow at the word 'discussion.'

She smirked and said, "Ok mum yelled a whole lot. But after a while she stopped. Then Ron and I, as calmly as we could, told her that we'd have gone with you no matter what she said. We cared about Sirius and we care about you.

"We also told her that if it were her instead of Sirius, you would have led us just the same. She started to cry then, and forbade us from doing any such thing for her." Ginny paused and said in a quieter voice, "I guess she knows that we would never obey that.

"I know it seemed that she and Sirius were always going at it, but I think she really liked him too. It's just--you know mum, she's always been so protective of you."

Harry nodded, the thought if he would try to speak he would cry. He was afraid of crying right now. They way he felt right now, he thought if he started crying it might never end.

After several minutes of silence Harry glanced at his wristwatch, he still had a little time before he needed to add the next ingredients.

Careful to control his voice Harry spoke into the silence, "I didn't realize you and he spoke so much."

Ginny paused looking uncomfortable, "I, well, I sometimes have a lot of trouble sleeping," she said quietly, "Nightmares you know?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I know nightmares," his voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, "Sometime it doesn't matter if you're awake or asleep, they almost never seem to end." After a moment he looked at her with a just a hint of a smile and gave her hand a small squeeze, in a little louder voice, "Almost."

Ginny had taken to heart what was said and what was left unsaid. She thought he might understand, "I, uh, I still have nightmares about Riddle, the dairy and all," she paused again; "It's not as bad as it used to be, but sometimes. . . ." she trailed off.

She started again after a moment, "Sirius was more of a night bird, so, uh, we got a lot of chances to talk, and I didn't want to disturb Hermione when I woke up in the middle of the night."

Harry looked at her for a few moments, till she began to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. Finally he spoke in a soft voice, "I didn't know, I didn't know you were having nightmares about it."

Harry watched her closely as she spoke softly, "The summer after first year I had terrible nightmares for most of the summer, but thankfully I never remembered them. By the time school started again they were practically gone."

Harry looked at her questioningly, "Well you remember what happened when we got back to school," the dementors of course, Harry nodded slightly and she continued, "Well after the few times near them the memories and nightmares came back worse. . ."

He nodded again and looked off into space before saying hesitantly, "I haven't been a good friend to you at all have I Ginny?"

She looked at him and realized he blamed himself for this too, "Harry, you couldn't have known. I haven't really told anyone about them." After a few moments of quiet she continued, "At least I got to know Sirius, he was always so understanding about things. We would talk for hours till I guess I was relaxed enough to go back to sleep."

After a moment she said in a bright voice that sounded only slightly forced, "Now thanks to you I'll soon be able to keep the dementors away."

Harry smiled faintly and in a slightly chocked voice said, "He really liked you, you know? He said some really nice things about you."

Ginny noticed a small smile fully appear in the midst of his misery. She couldn't keep the curiosity from her voice, "Harry, what did he say?"

Harry didn't say anything; he was clearly hesitant in telling her. But this was important to her. Sirius was a good friend to her; she was still hurting too, "Please Harry."

He looked her in the eye for a moment before nodding and looking away. "Well one thing he said was that he thought you were my Lily, but I was still a too much of a fifteen year old burke to realize it," a faint blush rose to his cheeks as he said this.

"Who's Lily?" then realization hit her as a matching flush rose on her face, "Oh I, sorry Harry I forgot for a minute."

He reached over and patted her hand reassuringly, he checked his watch again and said, "I have to run down and add the next ingredients to the potion I'm brewing. Uh, do you want anything?"

She smiled warmly at his thoughtfulness, "How about a Butter Beer?"

He returned the smile and said, "No problem."

Harry paused at the kitchen door as he heard his name spoken more than once, by more than one voice. It seemed like tonight's meeting was about him. And right now there were several conversations going on at once. He struggled to hear what they were saying, but he couldn't pick up much, too many people talking at once. Finally he heard Moody's voice cutting over everyone else's, "What I want to know is how Potter was able to slip getting the trunk delivered by one of our watchers. He must've gotten it early on, before we realized he was gonna stay in for the summer." Harry could almost see Moody's glare on everyone in the room.

Harry pushed open the door then and walked over to the counter. He took pulpy roots that were soaking in a copper basin and began chopping them finely. Once done, he added the chopped stems to the mortar, which contained an already powdered unicorn horn. He began combining them into a thick paste.

The Order members were each holding their breath as they watched Harry working at the counter. Apparently no one remembered to put an Imperturbable charm on the door. Each hoped beyond hope that Harry had heard none of the conversation. That hope was lost as Harry turned to them, mortar and pestle in his hands and continued to work the paste. "The problem with doing everything with military precision Moody is that you leave gaps in your defense. By the third night home I knew exactly how long it took you to circle the block."

Everyone sat mute, as they listened to Harry. The quiet way he spoke was somehow worse than if he screamed in a blind rage. Most shifted uncomfortably now, none more than Ron and Hermione though, Ron looked as he wanted to crawl into a hole, Hermione though after hearing Harry's tone had her head down and eyes tightly shut.

"By the fifth night I had the trunk," he said as his eyes moved the Moody's, "What is your eye sticking again?" Harry saw it was, pointing and the wall opposite the door.

"You should have that looked at, constant vigilance. Remember?"

Moody grunted in agreement.

Harry's eyes left Mad Eyes and swept the people around the table, pausing an extra moment on Ron and Hermione. Neither of which looked at him. After a moment he returned to the counter and his work. It took only minutes before the paste was ready to be added to the boiling cauldron. That done he drew his wand and made adjustments to the flames. He lowered them enough to make the potion simmer slowly.

He turned to leave the room but before he took a step he spoke again, "Listen Fred, George, Dung, sorry I got you all involved. I'll take care of things myself in the future."

Dumbledore didn't know what was worse, the tone of his voice or the expression on Harry's face. He struggled for something to say, anything to say. He watched as Harry strode to the door, but stopped abruptly just inside it. He seemed to be looking into space, 'Good,' he thought, 'here will be the anger. And the anger can be dealt with.'

"And Ginny as the distraction, very clever," Harry said softly but loud enough for all to hear.

"Honestly Harry, she didn't know anything about it," Hermione said breathlessly.

Harry looked over his shoulder at her. After a second he nodded despondently and said, "She will be pleased to know."

Harry left the room and the members of the order sat in uncomfortable silence for a quite some time. It was only when Ron jerked out of his chair and stormed from the room did anyone speak. It was Molly who spoke first trying to call her son back, "Ronald Weasley!" But the next sound heard was his voice calling out, "The Burrow!" from the living room fire.

Hermione rose next, she walked with head down out of the room and was heard as Ron was from the fireplace.

Bill spoke next, "Ginny is going to hit the roof when we get home tonight," then almost under his breath he added, "Not that I blame her."

Conversation began again quietly, but not till after Moody clunked across the kitchen and charmed the door.

Harry entered the drawing room quietly, sitting down again next to Ginny. "You forgot the Butter Beer silly," Ginny said smiling. The smile quickly fled at the look on his face. She thought this new face was even worse than the one he had worn most of the night. The bleakness of it caused her to ask, "Harry what's wrong," a little more frantically than she wanted.

Harry forced a smile and shrugged. He didn't know why he didn't just tell her right off. She had the right to know she was being used. If it were he, he'd damn well want to know. With a small sigh he said, "Ron and Hermione are downstairs."

"Oh, I uh, thought we'd get the chance to be alone for once," the disappointment was evident in her voice as she continued, "Well, are they coming up?"

Harry cleared his throat and said, "Uh, no Gin, they are in the meeting."

She stared blankly at him for a minute and he explained, "They're having a meeting about me, I guess they're getting pumped for information."

The pair sat silent for a time before she said softly, "So that's why mum was so insistent that I come here alone tonight," she blushed slightly and hurriedly added, "Not that I didn't want to, I was just. . . just nervous about it."

Harry simply nodded. They sat in silence for a while till she said, "So that's my job, to keep you busy." It came out more as a growl than anything else as her temper flared. Her face began to redden and her hands were clenched in tight fists. A stream of curses that would have made the twins proud came out under her breath. Ginny snapped up from her seat and stormed towards the door. He sat mutely and watched her go; she barely made it past the threshold when she paused. She seemed to be having a silent argument with herself. After a moment she shook her head and returned to sit next to him.

Harry spoke after she settled herself and linked her arm with his, "You know what's funny, they never even bothered to ask me. You would think Remus or Dumbledore. . . ." After a short pause, "I thought at least Remus would've come by to see how I was when I was on Privet Drive."

Ginny looked at him for a moment and then said, "Would you have told either one of them everything they wanted to know?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, "Maybe some of it at least. Now though, I'm sure there are more than a few things they wish I didn't know."

Ginny was watching him closely, she noticed a shiver run down him when he said the last, and she asked quietly, "You're not just talking about Merlin's Fire are you?"

Harry didn't respond, but that was answer enough for Ginny. Her hopes for this of having a quiet evening alone with Harry had long since fled. Well not the quiet part anyway. When she got home though, there would be no quiet. He seemed lost in his own world right now; she truly wished she knew what was going on in his head right now. At least part of her did, the other part was truly frightened of what ever it was that was doing this to him.

She sat quietly watching him for a long time, hoping that he would come out of this funk on his own. Harry it seemed wasn't even aware she was in the same room with him. Well since this evening was shot to hell anyway she thought she might as well ask him something that had been on her mind for the past couple of days. "Harry?"

"Hmm," he said as he turned to look at her.

"I, uh, I was just wondering," she hesitated now, unsure of this request, "Do you think I could use your Pensieve?"

His eyebrows rose slightly, "If you want to," he said quietly, "May I ask why though?"

"Dumbledore told me the book was destroyed, that the Tom Riddle in the book was destroyed, but it's just," she paused again, taking a steadying breath, "Just sometimes in my dreams, I just. . . ."

He reached over and took her hand, and said, "If you think if it will help, but I don't want you to go alone though."

She nodded gratefully; she had actually never intended to go back there alone. She supposed it must have sounded that way to him. He rose, walked across the room and opened a lower door on the sideboard and removed a strange stone basin. It was quite pretty actually, runes cut in the stone circled it, and it was filled just under the rim with a swirling silver liquid. She sat a bit tense right now; it must have showed on her face. Harry reached over and took her hand.

Looking deep into her eyes, he said, "You sure you want to do this?"

Ginny hesitated for a moment, lost in his eyes before she nodded, "Just tell me what to do."

"All you have to do is hold onto my hand."

She nodded as he touched the surface of the silvery pool. Harry heard her gasp as they fell forward. He caught her arm so she wouldn't fall as the landed. He was after all used to the drop by now, and knew what it was like the first time. They landed right behind the younger Harry just as he passed the door into the chamber. Ginny looked around with wide eyes, "Wow, this is amazing," she breathed.

The pair followed the young wary Harry going past column after column, till he stopped to gape at the huge stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. Harry saw himself notice Ginny lying at the statues feet, he watched as this Ginny ran after the sprinting young Harry. He walked over to the scene, just to be close in case Ginny had second thoughts and wanted to leave. He saw her cringe slightly when Tom Riddle spoke, but in a second it was gone. She was now straight backed and seemed ready to throw herself at the ghostly image.

Harry smiled for a moment at her back. He kept near to Ginny, but did not really watch the scene and battle unfolding around him. He studied the chamber, the high arched ceiling was barely in sight. He walked around lost in his own thoughts, wondering why he never came back down here for a better look. In no time at all it seemed he heard a young Ginny's tearful, quaking voice trying desperately to explain what had happened. How she didn't mean for everything to happen, how she had tried to tell him. He wasn't paying much attention though. Harry's eyes were now fixed on the carcass of the dead basilisk. An idea blooming in his mind, he didn't move till he felt Ginny take his arm. He looked to her and saw a wide eyed expression; she seemed at a loss for words.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Harry that was, you were. . ." she halted as he raised a finger to her lips.

"Did you see all you needed to?" he asked almost solemnly.

She nodded, and then grinned at him, "You tried to carry me out." She hugged his arm tighter, wishing he would put his arms around her.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke, "Ginny, would you mind coming with me to see something else. I really don't want to go alone." The second sentence was a bare whisper.

Ginny tensed for a second, she thought she knew where he wanted to go. She didn't want to see how he died. She couldn't allow herself to say no though. "Yes Harry, I'll go with you."

He nodded gratefully as their surroundings began to fog over. For a moment they were both even unable to see each other. When it cleared Ginny saw that they weren't in the ministry, as she had feared. They were in a dilapidated old house. Harry hadn't paused to say anything to her; he followed himself and what had to be Hermione up a dark staircase. Ginny watched the pair in front of her, and it wasn't till they entered the dusty old bedroom, that she knew when this was. This was the night the trio had first met Sirius. She watched in rapt silence and the scene unfolded around her. Her eyes moved off the drama playing out in front of her only once. When Scabbers was revealed as Pettigrew she noticed Harry. She stood frozen in place; the look of cold fury in Harry's whole demeanor was enough to freeze her blood. She hoped no one ever directed that a look of murder like that at her. She wanted to take his hand, she wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him tight. His posture still had her frozen though. After a moment her eyes caught sight of the young Harry leaping in front of Pettigrew. Ginny's eyes widened at this; how could anyone possibly be that noble? Could she ever hope to be?

Her concentration broke again when she heard Harry mutter, "Bloody damn idiot."

They followed close behind, first down the flight of stairs, next down the trap door into the tunnel. Both Ginny and Harry listened to young Harry and Sirius as they spoke for the first time. When Sirius spoke hopefully of the young Harry moving in with him, the Harry of now stopped. He cringed as if in pain, and Ginny saw a single tear roll down his face. She started towards him, this time she would be there for him. This time she would hold him till it came out. She wouldn't let him go till it did. After barely a step the scene began to fade away and they were once again shrouded in the thick fog. She felt Harry take her arm gently as he said quietly, "I'm going to take us back now. We'll be in the same seats as when we left. You won't fall."

Before she could respond they were both doing a backwards summersault into the present day. She rocked awkwardly in her seat, feeling as if she really would fall out of it. She turned to Harry to thank him, but he was looking across the table. She turned her head and gave a start. They were no longer alone in the room, opposite them sat Professor Dumbledore and Remus. Harry eyed both with a blank expression. After getting over her initial surprise Ginny's gaze became very cool towards the pair across from them.

The four sat in uneasy silence for a moment. Remus was the first, "Harry, we both wanted to speak with you. To explain. We were worried you would never talk to us.

Dumbledore sat quietly, saying nothing. Seemingly at ease letting Remus do the talking. "You shouldn't blame Ron and Hermione either," he added hurriedly, "They were, uh, pressured into speaking tonight. They really had no choice.

Several long minutes later, Harry turned to Ginny, "It's getting late, I'll walk you to the fireplace. Goodnight Professors."

Harry either didn't see Remus flinch or didn't care. He led Ginny through the door, though he checked at it. He turned, not looking at the two wizards, went to the table and retrieved his stack of books and his Pensieve. He strode quickly to catch up.

"You can still trust us Harry."

Ginny was startled at the tone of Dumbledore's voice. She had never heard that voice plead. It oddly saddened her. They walked down the stairs silently; she noticed Harry went back for his things. She hoped she could talk to him for a moment before she left. She was disappointed though. Harry made the excuse of work to finish up. He walked to the kitchen without so much as a kiss goodnight. Not the she herself was much in the mood for kissing.

'Might have been nice though,' she thought with a small sigh.

Harry entered the kitchen; several order members were still there talking quietly. There were also several additions to the earlier members. Snape was there now; he was talking with two older witches that Harry didn't recognize. All quieted when he entered. After his initial glance around the room he ignored them. Taking a heavy dishcloth from the counter he lifted the potion from the fire and placed it on the counter. He opened the potions book to the chapter on the potion and read the end again. The creator of the potion also created three spells to test it. As he was ready to cast the first spell the door opened and Remus and Dumbledore entered. The first spell had no effect on the potion. No visible effect meant that he had done a good portion of it right. He cast the second and the steamy white smoke that came from the cauldron turned an awful shade of green. Well he hadn't gotten the potion totally correct. That fact actually came as a relief. Maybe he wasn't a super wizard freak.

"Evanesco," he muttered, pointing his wand.

"Excellent Harry, most excellent. Most wizards don't even get close on their first attempt," Dumbledore said in what was obviously a forced bright voice.

Harry shrugged, picked up all his things and left the room without another word.

Remus stared after the door feeling forlorn. He wished it were in him to run after Harry, to make things right.

"He does still care about you Remus that has not changed."

"How can you be so sure Albus?"

Dumbledore motioned to where Harry had been working, "Did you not notice the potion Harry was working on?" he asked quietly.

Remus shook his head.

With a small smile Dumbledore said, "I do not think he was attempting Wolf's Bane potion for his own consumption."

Remus gave a weak smile.

"Perhaps tomorrow he would be more amenable to a conversation."

"Perhaps," responded Remus without much hope.