The Paradigm Of Uncertainty

HARRY POTTER AND THE PARADIGM OF UNCERTAINTY

Chapter 14: The Last Secret

Harry and Hermione sat in the cell together, not speaking. He was on the floor propped up against the wall with his arms around her as she sat across his lap with her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Allegra had left them there alone with nothing to do but think and no one for company except that one damned guard, who was now not only stone-faced but radiating anger at having been incapacitated so ignominiously.

"Is it all right to talk now?" she finally said.

"It was all right to talk before."

"Oh. I thought we were being quiet for a reason."

"What's left to say?"

She straightened up and stared at him, amazed. "Well, I have a few questions if it's all right with you."

He sighed. "Go ahead."

"Why did she leave us here together? Doesn't that violate some section of the Villain Code of Conduct?"

"If there were such a thing Allegra would go out of her way to violate it just to prove she could. And if she's going to kill us then she wants us alone together to better savor the exquisite agony of knowing we're spending our last moments together. She's not afraid we'll plot some escape plan. Such a possibility would not enter her calculations now that she's got us here where we're both powerless."

She laid her head back on his shoulder. "She could have killed me for real."

"Oh, no. Not in a million years."

"Why not?"

"Because it's been done already. She's seen my face when she killed you the first time, to repeat it would just be tiresome. Anyway, the longer I have to think about your death...not to mention my own...the better. She'll try and bring me down any way she can. Your fake death didn't work, so perhaps the knowledge of your upcoming actual death will do the trick. I'm sure she always intended to capture you even though she'd faked your death...perhaps now she can use you as leverage once again. If I cooperate she'll let you go, and so forth."

"Do you intend to cooperate if she proposes such a thing?"

His jaw clenched. "My cooperation would depend on my assessment of her sincerity in promising to let you go. If I believed her, I might...but it would take a lot for me to believe her at this point."

"I don't want you to cooperate, no matter what." He said nothing. "If you die I don't care what happens to me."

"Don't say that," he said sharply. "Hermione, I have to know that you'll be all right if I die and by some miracle she lets you go."

"I won't be."

He held her closer. "Yes, you will. You're stronger than that."

She pressed her lips to the side of his neck. "You make me strong."

"That's just your emotions talking." He heaved a ragged sigh. "We have to be realistic. It's likely that I won't survive this." Hermione tightened her arms about his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut. "No, it's true. I can fight off a lot, but not this many all at once. She'll try to take away any advantage I have." He bowed his head to her shoulder. "I want you to promise me that if I die you'll do whatever you have to do to escape." A single hoarse sob escaped her throat. "You must promise!" he whispered urgently. "Go to Quinn, she might have a soft spot for you. I've got a feeling she goes about her villainy a tad reluctantly, she might be vulnerable. Find Sorry if she hasn't killed him too. Run, hide, use Forbidden Curses, do whatever you must to survive." He drew back and grasped her face between his hands. "If you live, then something of me lives too."

She shut her eyes and nodded. "All right, I promise."

"Good."

She lowered her eyes and spoke quietly. "What if the changeover works?"

"Then the entire world will probably change in completely unforeseeable and probably unhappy ways. In other words, it's not a good thing."

"Very succinct."

"Well, if I can't get to the point when facing death, then when can I?"

Hermione laid a hand on his face. "I really wish that guard wasn't there."

"Why? I mean, besides the obvious?"

"Well, if these are our last moments together, then I can think of better ways to spend them."

He cracked a slight smile. "Oh. I thought that was the obvious."

She straightened. "Maybe we should just do it anyway. Who cares about the guard?" Her cheeks flushed at this uncharacteristically brazen offer.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Let me get this straight. You want me to have sex with you in a cell with a guard watching as my arch-nemesis prepares our imminent deaths?"

"Well...when you put it like that..."

"I see. And are there any more comic-book trashy-romance-novel cliches you'd care to invoke at this time?"

"The only other one I can think of would be for me to beg you to impregnate me so I could at least have your child after your untimely death." She couldn't believe they were cracking jokes at a time like this, but what else was there? You could only engage in so much angst-filled hand-wringing before you went mad.

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, of course. But shouldn't you be wearing a very low-cut peasant blouse and a big billowy skirt slit up to your hips?"

"Only if you'll grow your hair out to the middle of your back and put on a pirate shirt unbuttoned down to your navel. Then we have to embrace dramatically in front of a wind machine, preferably with my decolletage hovering just on the edge of decency and a Scottish mountain range in the background."

"What shall we call it? No, wait, I've got it...'She Wore a Black Vinyl Catsuit.'"

"No no...'Hogwarts Heartthrobs.'"

"'Passion and Potions!'"

"'Wild Wizards With Weally Wong Wands!'" she spluttered, collapsing into a fit of laughter. Harry clutched his stomach, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Oh boy...we're going to die, aren't we?"

"Probably," Harry managed between chuckles. Their laughter slowly trailed off into a tense silence; they sat quietly, not looking at each other. Their momentary attack of mirth notwithstanding, the situation was dire to say the least. She sat numb, conscious only of the cold stones beneath them and his hand making slow circles on her lower back.

"It's too soon," Hermione finally said. Harry said nothing; he tightened his arm around her back. She leaned against him, trying to recall if she'd ever been this exhausted. It seemed a lifetime had passed since they'd woken at Dana's house that morning. "There's so much I still have to tell you," she whispered.

"I know," he said. She looked up into his eyes and saw there a thousand dreams she hadn't dared to have and all she'd secretly wished for. The rest of the world fell away and all there was in the world were his eyes, their brilliant green irises full of an expression she could not begin to describe. I've waited my whole life for a man look at me like that, she thought to herself. She slipped her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to take some scant measure of comfort in the secure feeling of his embrace. One arm circled her back, the other hand twined in her hair. The rough wool of his cloak scratched her cheek; she gripped it between her fingers like a lifeline. "It wasn't supposed to be this way," he said hoarsely.

"Shh," she said. "Don't talk about it."

"We should have had years..."

"We can't change the past, and we might not have tomorrow. It's just right now, it'll have to be enough."

"I love you," he whispered into her ear. "If I had a hundred years and all the words ever written I wouldn't be able to say how much." He pressed his cheek against her hair. "And now it's my fault that you're here."

"Don't," she repeated. "Everything I've done, I have done of my own free will. It's not your fault."

"Why didn't you stay away?" he said, his voice laced with hopelessness.

"I couldn't. You want to know why?" She drew back and looked at him. "Because as corny as it sounds, you're the only man I've ever really loved, and I've loved you all my life. There, that's what I needed you to know." She sighed as if the sentence had taken her last bit of strength. "All right, we can die now."

The corner of his mouth slid upwards in a half-smile. "Yes, bring on the changeovers and the fates worse than death, we're ready."

Only a few minutes ago their levity had managed to break the tension...now, it fell flat and lifeless and served only to drive home the point it tried to avoid. Hermione shut her eyes, keeping the tears away only through sheer force of will. She felt Harry lean forward and then his lips on hers. Grateful for the distraction she pressed against him, relaxing into his arms. For a few moments they kissed gently, carefully, as if each were afraid the other might shatter. All at once he stopped and pulled back. Hermione opened her eyes, puzzled, to see the oddest expression on his face...as if he weren't sure where he was or what he was doing. She felt hypersensitized, the small movements of his hand on her lower back amplified to huge sweeping gestures. She could feel his heartbeat accelerating, her own racing to catch up. A flash of heat passed between them; she grabbed him about the shoulders just as he crushed her to his chest, their lips meeting in the middle with almost enough force to leave a bruise.

An observer with any sensitivity would have felt a flush rise to their face at the ardor of the scene before them. If they continued to watch they may have been put in mind of a time when they had been in such a passionate embrace as this, for it was clear that the two people involved could not get enough of each other. They kissed with such hunger it almost seemed as if they intended to devour each other. The man held the woman as tightly as if he were trying to fuse their two bodies into one; her arms gripped him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling into a dark, tarry abyss.

But Hermione did not see any of this with such objective observation, she only felt herself burning. She felt his mouth on hers and the muscles of his back beneath her arms; she felt his hand slip underneath her shirt, his fingers searingly hot against her skin. She felt his breath on her face and heard her pulse roaring in her ears and she heard the question ringing through her mind even as her tongue delved into his mouth and she felt his hand on her breast there was still the question, the one to which she wasn't sure she wanted the answer but which she had to ask. "Harry," she mumbled against his mouth.

"Hmmm," he said, not stopping. She put her hands against his chest and forced herself to push him away. His face creased into a puzzled expression. "What? What's wrong?"

She didn't stop to catch her breath, afraid she'd lose her nerve. "What are you?" she gasped. "What are you?"

He just stared at her for a long moment, then sagged and let his head drop to his chest. "I'm sorry."

"What are you?" she repeated. "She said you were...the only one of your kind." He nodded weakly. "For God's sake, Harry, what are you?"

When he lifted his head his expression was so naked with apprehension that she feared the answer even more. "What do you think I am?"

"I don't know what Allegra meant, but I'll tell you what I know you to be." She smoothed his rumpled hair. "You're a good man, but you have faults. You're a hero, but a modest one. You're dangerous, but you're careful. You're powerful, but you're insecure. You make me laugh and you hold me when I'm sad. You're very good at Quidditch and you're a wonderful dancer and you're kind to children and you're a sucker for ice cream and I love you."

He leaned forward and placed a slow, deliberate kiss on her clammy forehead. "Nothing that I am will change any of that," he said.

"Why are you so afraid to tell me? What could be that horrible?"

"That's just it, it's not horrible at all. It could even be wonderful. It's not that I'm afraid to tell you, it's that I'm afraid of what I am. It's taken me most of my life to acknowledge it and accept the fact that...most of the bad things that have happened to me really are my own fault."

"They're not! They're..."

"Shh, listen to me. Because of what I am, my parents died. Ron died. Dumbledore and Hagrid died. Because of what I am, I am hunted. Others have been hurt in that hunt, and more will likely be hurt, perhaps even you. Because of what I am, I denied my feelings for you for years, even long after I knew in my heart that I couldn't live without you."

"All right, I'm dying of suspense! Tell me now or I swear I'll..."

That was as far as she got. The door out to the hallway banged open and wizards in green robes began filing in. Harry and Hermione rose as one; he stepped partially in front of her and faced the door of the cell. The robed wizards lined up on either side of the door and then Allegra swished in, smiling with self-satisfaction. She'd changed her clothes; she was now clad in a long white gown of an odd diaphanous material that flowed like water around her legs. Her hair was loose and streamed down her back in an inky river. Next to her cold and perfect beauty Hermione suddenly felt like an old shoe.

"Ah," Harry said as Allegra unlocked the door to the cell. "Is that your Death outfit? Very becoming, but you know white's not practical for killing. The bloodstains never come out."

Her serene smile turned into a smirk. "I knew I could count on you, Harry. Even facing death you've still got a smartass remark to make."

"Is it time, then?"

"Yes." She nodded to some of her minions. "Bring them."

**********

Harry and Hermione were led back to the circular pit room with their hands chained behind them. They walked in silence surrounded by Allegra's green-robed wizards, Allegra leading the procession with her gown billowing out behind her. A few tears slipped down Hermione's cheeks as she pondered the likely fact that the man next to her was the love of her life, a realization that had come cruelly late in their relationship, and that she had touched and spoken to him for the last time.

The corridor opened up to the execution theater, as Quinn had called it. Hermione's jaw dropped, for the room was not as she remembered it. The ceiling was gone, or enchanted into invisibility, leaving only the midnight blue night sky and a sprinkling of stars above them. The room was ringed with tall torches that glowed not with flame but with green eldritch fire, casting a cold and eerie light over the room. The raised platform at the end of the chamber bore only the restraint chair and a sturdy podium, on which rested two stone tablets covered in dense writing. These, she could only assume, were the changeover rituals retrieved from the chamber beneath Philadelphia. Sorry stood behind the podium, his hands clasped before him, his face partially hidden by the hood of his cloak. Standing in rows facing the platform were several dozen cloaked wizards, presumably the Circle members and other dark wizards.

Quinn and Draco were waiting just inside the room, and as Allegra and her entourage entered, Quinn stepped forward and grasped Hermione's arm, drawing her away from the group. The robed wizard guards fell away and joined the others; Draco grabbed Harry and led him towards the platform. Hermione strained against Quinn's grip, which was strong as an iron manacle. "No!" she cried, to no avail. "Harry!"

"Shush," Quinn hissed. "You can't help him now." She stood with a hand on Hermione's shoulder, keeping her in place. Hermione watched helplessly, tears slipping down her cheeks and her teeth gritting in frustration.

Harry thought fast as Draco dragged him onto the platform. I could overpower Draco, he thought, but what would it get me? There's an army of wizards in here and they all hate me. He saw Allegra take her place before the podium; Draco paused and looked at her. She glanced over at Hermione, who was standing next to Quinn. "You make sure she stays right there." Quinn nodded. Allegra turned to one of her guards. "And you might as well chain him up as well," she said, jerking her head towards Sorry. After a few seconds of blank resignment, Sorry just sighed and rolled his eyes, not appearing to be terrifically surprised.

"I would have let you know..." Harry began, meeting his eyes.

"That she was on to me?" Sorry answered as the guard led him off the platform. "I half-suspected it anyway. But I thought she'd make full use of my help on the changeover before she hung me from the yardarm."

"Your kind of help I can do without," she said. "You'd never consciously help me change Potter over, how could I trust you? Besides, I always backup my experts." She nodded towards a wizard at the far end of the room; he stepped aside and a woman in powder blue robes came forward. Harry didn't recognize her. He looked over at Sorry, whose mouth was hanging open in astonishment.

"Winter?" Sorry breathed. Harry shut his eyes briefly, another piece of the puzzle falling into place. I should have known, he thought. How else did Leland go through the exact same changeover as Laura did? Rivers of blood and forests of thorns and 'tam htab?' Both of their rituals were performed by the same person and probably in the same place. Shock appeared to have regressed Sorry to childhood as he stared at his grandmother. "Winter...how could you help her?" Winter did not answer. "What have you done to her?" Sorry growled at Allegra.

Isn't it obvious? Harry thought. Look at her eyes, she's under an Imperius Curse. Allegra explained, smiling indulgently at Winter. "When I began my research into the changeover and obtained my first test subject, I wanted to duplicate the circumstances of a successful changeover as closely as possible to maximize its chances for success, so I took Leland to New Zealand...hey, that rhymes!...to your family home, Sorry. Your mother I stunned, your grandmother I enlisted to help me. She performed the same ritual on Leland that she had done on Laura, right down to the kinky little details. Needless to say it didn't work, but her knowledge of the ritual impressed me so I brought her home with me. Imagine my surprise when the grandson whose picture was everywhere in the house and whom she'd talked of so often showed up on my doorstep claiming to be a big bad wizard." Sorry was biting his lips, probably cursing himself silently. "So you never had a chance of fooling me, I'm afraid. Especially since Winter also let it slip that your longtime girlfriend was a housemate to one Harry Potter of my acquaintance."

"Why did you keep me around, then?"

"Curiosity, I suppose. You also came in rather handy as a means for me to feed Harry information and lead him to me. And if I were to keep Winter a secret even from the Circle, I needed someone to be visibily working on the changeover documents." She nodded to the wizard holding him. "Put him with Dr. Granger." Sorry was placed next to Hermione, his keeper staying by his side. Allegra turned back to Harry.

"So where's this master of yours? Are we to have the pleasure?" Harry said.

"Probably not. My master chooses when to visit, I do not issue invitations. This occasion is of great importance to us, but my master can just as easily observe from a distance." She looked at Draco. "Put him in the chair." She turned to face the podium and she and Winter fell to the preparations.

Draco shoved Harry into the wooden chair. Harry kept his eyes on Hermione, watching from across the room, as Draco slapped the built-in manacles over his ankles. He removed the chains and held Harry's wrists over the restraints on the arms of the chair, snapping them closed. Harry watched as Draco moved his fingers over the metal cuffs to slide the locking pins into place...except that he didn't actually do so, he merely made the motion. The locking pins stayed where they were. He had left the manacle closed but unlocked. Harry kept his expression carefully neutral as he watched Draco repeat this procedure on his other wrist, right down to the pantomime, thus eliminating the possibility that he had simply made a disastrous error. As Draco finished, Harry made a very slight motion with his left foot and felt the manacle at his ankle give slightly; it too was unlocked.

Before he could even begin to wonder what this meant, Harry felt something being surreptitiously slid inside his sleeve underneath his left forearm, something long and narrow...it was his wand. Harry, stupefied, looked up and met Draco's pale eyes, and it was then that the situation suddenly took a wild lurch.

Draco's left eyelid dropped in a very fast but very intentional wink.

Harry cut his eyes away at once lest he betray something by his expression. Draco covered up by checking the restraints, then straightened and stepped to the side. Harry tried to maintain his composure while his mind was reeling. Draco was helping him. He'd left his restraints unlocked and had slipped him his wand. If *he* was on their side then...his eyes flicked to Quinn, standing at Hermione's side. If Draco and Quinn were on their side, then this situation was no longer quite so hopeless. All he had to do was pick his moment and he might have a shot.

**********

Hermione watched as Draco locked Harry into the restraint chair, her view momentarily blocked by Draco's slender body. Quinn's hand was firm upon her shoulder and Sorry stood silently next to her. Hermione felt numb with despair and the inevitability of what she was about to see. She wondered if she would physically be able to watch, but she knew that Allegra would do everything in her power to force her to watch.

Over her desperate desire not to think about it, her mind relentlessly circled around the idea of what it would be like to live without him. She could scarcely grasp the concept, she'd never been away from him for longer than a Hogwarts summer holiday. As she imagined this bleak possibility it was not the absence of the man who was her lover that she thought of most, instead she dreaded losing the man who was her companion, her friend, the strong wall at her back. In all the ways he impacted her life on a daily basis, small insignificant ways that collectively comprised the most important relationship she'd ever had. How can I ever go through a day knowing that he will not bid me goodnight at the end of it? How can I possibly write another paper or read another book knowing that he will never bring me tea or make me stop and go to sleep? He's a part of everything I do, everything I am. How can I go through my life alone without the other half of myself?

As Draco manacled Harry to the chair Hermione felt Quinn's free hand at her chained wrists. She said nothing as long fingers popped the lock on the chains open; it took all the restraint she could muster to keep still and silent as the chains were slowly and quietly lifted off her hands. Quinn grasped both of her wrists in one hand and squeezed them together quickly, the silent message clear: 'keep your hands here as if they're still chained.' She felt Quinn slip something into the pocket of her cloak. It wasn't her wand, but what it indeed was wasn't clear. Hermione glanced around to see if they were in any danger of being observed; there was no one behind them and the wizard guarding Sorry was on the far side of his prisoner, his view blocked by Quinn's body.

Hermione thought quickly. Quinn is trying to help. What the hell is she doing teamed up with Draco? Maybe she's working undercover to bring him down. But cutting me loose isn't going to help much. What can I do against a roomfull of dark wizards?

Draco was now standing next to Harry's chair, his hands clasped behind his back. Harry stared straight ahead, his face oddly strained and still. Allegra turned to face the gathered wizards, her back to Hermione. Winter was standing quietly next to the podium.

"My friends," Allegra said. "Thank you for coming. We're ready to begin." Winter handed her a stone goblet from a shelf behind the podium. Allegra pulled out a small knife and stood at Harry's side. She picked up one of his fingers and made a small cut in its tip; Harry's face betrayed no pain. She held the goblet under his finger and let a drop of his blood fall into the bowl; she swirled the contents and held it up to Harry's lips. He just glared at her. She smiled. "You know I can make you drink it."

Harry sighed, eyeing the goblet. "What is it?"

"Just wine, and now a little bit of you. It's a symbol."

"Then why bother? Get on with it."

Allegra shrugged and set the goblet down. She picked up a few small objects that Hermione couldn't identify and pressed them into Harry's hand. She dipped a small paintbrush into a container and leaned over him, raising the brush to his face...but it never touched him.

All of a sudden, Harry's right arm shot up, the manacle falling ineffectually to the side; in a fraction of a second his hand pistoned out and clamped tightly around Allegra's throat. The goblet fell from her hand and clattered to the floor, spraying wine on her dress.

The wizards gathered around the perimeter of the room jerked forward as if to rush to her aid but in an instant Draco whipped his wand out of his bandoleer and interposed himself between them and the chair. "Don't even try it," he hissed. Hermione's mouth was hanging open in astonishment.

Harry kicked away the ankle manacles and slowly stood, his fingers digging into her throat. He flicked his other wrist and his wand slid into his hand. Hermione realized in a flash that Draco had only feigned locking him into the chair and had probably slipped him his wand...and now he protected him. Her head was starting to throb; the variables were shifting too rapidly.

Harry's face was a mask of fury as he held Allegra at arm's length. "Just give me a reason," he growled. Winter stood placidly to the side, her face blank. Draco was watching the gathering of wizards, his eyes wide and alert, every muscle tensed.

One of the green-cloaked wizards stepped a little bit forward and pushed his hood back; it was Lucius Malfoy. "Give me the wand, Draco," he said. "You don't want to protect Potter after all he's done to you."

Draco's lips curled into a sneer. "What he's done is nothing to what you've done. Step back, Dad...or you'll be meeting all those you've sent to their deaths." Lucius hesitated.

"You're bluffing."

Draco didn't even flinch. "Care to find out?" Lucius stepped back.

Allegra's hands clutched at Harry's wrist, her face going purple. Hermione felt a grim satisfaction at the sight of it. There was no mercy on Harry's face, his clenched teeth bared as his green eyes seemed to bore holes through her.

"Now what?" she croaked. "You can kill me, Harry, but how far do you think you'd get?" Harry's left eyelid twitched a bit at this statement; he shifted his gaze to Hermione's face, then over her shoulder to Quinn. Hermione saw Quinn nod out of the corner of her eye.

"Draco," he said softly. Draco nodded, not taking his eyes off the wizards poised to rush the platform, held back only by the threat of the crackling tip of his wand and Lucius' belief in his son's determination. No one wanted to be first. Harry looked back at Allegra. "One," he whispered. "Two. Three!"

On "three," a number of things happened all at once but were almost immediately lost in the pandemonium that ensued. Harry released Allegra's neck, seized her about the waist and threw her into the crowd of her loyal followers, knocking several of them off their feet. At the same time, Draco leapt off the platform and dove in amongst the startled wizards, stunning anyone he touched witha flash of his wand. Quinn darted to the side and severed Sorry's chains with a sweep of her wand, and Hermione ran forward to meet Harry as he jumped off the platform, slipping his wand into the pocket of his cloak. The spell, the spell, she thought. If we can do the spell right now it'd be a tremendous advantage. By the look on his face he had the same thought.

Unfortunately neither of them got very far. She was immediately grabbed around the middle by someone behind her, and Harry was tackled by a wizard who came flying in from the left. Her captor dragged her to the back of the room and surrounded himself with several other wizards; she could do nothing but watch and struggle as chaos erupted.

The entire chamber seemed to be filled with shouting as spells and curses flew like spitballs. She watched Quinn duck and roll to avoid one and then stun another wizard who was just raising his wand at her. Draco was using his fists and his wand to plow through the melee as he tried to reach Harry, who was in far worse shape. Most of the Circle wizards were quite logically concentrating on him, and he was beset from all sides by wand-wielding attackers. The ones Draco had Stunned stubbornly refused to stay Stunned, they kept getting right back up again.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. He was rapidly disappearing under a pile of dark green cloaks.

Draco wrenched himself away from the hands that held him back and lunged towards Harry, but once he got there he couldn't even find him in what was starting to resemble a rugby pileup with Harry on the bottom.

Quinn rushed forward but suddenly found Allegra standing in front of her looking pissed as hell...before Quinn could react she found herself on the receiving end of a hard punch that knocked her to the ground. Allegra turned and hit Draco in the back with a shot from her wand. He spun around, clutching the wound, stumbled over his own feet and fell down. "You got him?" she called towards the pileup.

"I got him!" someone shouted. "Wait I lost him...bloody hell!" the wizard cried out. The pileup was...heaving, looking absurdly as though it were in labor. As if, Hermione realized, someone were pushing up on it from beneath. The wizards' shouts became confused, puzzled, surprised.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up. Something's happening, she thought. The very air felt charged with electricity. The magic was very thick in this room, and some sense beyond the five she trusted was tickling at the base of her spine, whispering to her that no one was prepared.

All at once the rugby pileup was shoved forcibly outwards; something burst from the middle of it and shot into the air...Hermione gasped as she realized it was Harry. She stared upwards, amazed.

He was floating in midair about twenty feet off the ground, and he looked mad enough to chew nails. Hermione's jaw dropped open at the sight of him, because he looked different. He was...well, glowing was the closest her mind could come, though that wasn't exactly right. He seemed vaguely illuminated as if by footlights, his hair and cloak were moving though there was no wind, and the green of his eyes was so brilliant that they seemed to be on fire.

Someone raised their wand and took a shot at him, but he was too quick. He darted forward, propelling himself easily through the air with no hint as to how he was doing it. The Circle wizards didn't seem interested; between Sorry, Draco and Quinn most of them had been Stunned several times already, yet they continued to shake off the effects.

Harry was...flying. Without a broomstick. Without enchanted cars. With no visible trace of magical assistance. No wands, no spells, no charms or incantations. Just hanging in the air and zipping around the room like the Snitches that he had been trained to catch. It wasn't just levitating, it was honest-to-God flying. It made Hermione's brain hurt to watch it. She thought of him making the guards at Grunnings let them pass. She thought of his confidence that he could get into the vault in the catacombs even without the unlocking spells. She thought of Voldemort's inability to kill him as a supposedly defenseless baby.

And she thought of Allegra saying that he was the only one of his kind.

Allegra ran up to the platform, staring angrily up at her suddenly gravity-proof opponent. "Nice moves, flyboy! Do I look impressed to you?"

"No," he said, then took a nosedive downwards and slammed both feet into her chest, sending her crashing into the wall of the chamber. He landed on the platform, his boots thudding against the stones. "You look pathetic."

She smirked at him. "Well, at least I can count on my friends."

Before Harry could even open his mouth to reply he was knocked clear off his feet by a wizard who threw himself at his back in a flying tackle. Isn't it time for the tea interval? Hermione thought. The fighting continued unabated. Green-cloaked wizards lay here and there on the floor in extreme danger of being trampled to death. Quinn, having just forced herself to her feet after being knocked off them, stood with her back to Draco dodging curses and flinging her own at anyone who came near her.

Harry scrambled up and faced the wizard who'd tackled him. It was Lucius Malfoy. "Hello, Lucius," he said. "Nice of your supposedly dead son to lend me a hand."

"I'm not scared of you," Lucius said, whipping out his wand. As Hermione watched, Harry thrust his hand forward and wrapped his fingers around Lucius' forehead. She couldn't see what he did, but Lucius gave a convulsive jerk and dropped like a stone.

"You should be," Harry muttered, then turned and strode towards Hermione. They locked eyes, their thoughts as from one mind. Ready? Yes. Harry raised a hand and then pointed at her. Now.

She began to speak the first stanza of the spell, watching his lips move as he did the same. He raised both hands as he approached and all at once the wizards holding her were flung away as if by a shockwave, leaving her standing alone. As the second stanza passed her lips Hermione began to feel a thrumming passing through her body as if she were sitting on the hood of a car while it was running, and her right hand began to tingle. A Circle wizard ran up to Harry from the side...without missing a step Harry raised his hand towards the attacker and he was flung away.

Hermione had to resist the urge to recoil as he approached. She didn't know what to make of him. She wasn't altogether sure she knew who he was...but she was sure that some part of her was afraid of him.

The wizard who'd been holding her before got to his feet behind her. Without thinking Hermione bent and picked up a wand someone had dropped and held it out, Stunning him. The unfamiliar wand sent a shock up her arm and she dropped it at once, turning back to Harry. Two wizards came at him from opposite sides and he jumped into the air, allowing them to collide beneath him.

He extended a hand towards her and she felt her feet leaving the ground. Hermione sucked in a breath and forced herself to be calm as she slowly rose to his level. She met his eyes and they spoke the third stanza. The magic she'd felt running through her body began to rush down her arm and into her right hand; it glowed a brilliant red color. She could see that Harry was being similarly affected. As the last words left her lips she could sense the magic straining to leave her control and run wild, she forced her concentration back to the spell she was casting.

All this took more than half a minute. She spared a glance below...all did not go well for the side of the right. The Circle wizards refused to stay down and kept returning to renew their attack. Sorry was slumped on the floor unconscious. Quinn was heavily favoring her left arm, her right hung limply from its socket. Draco's face was pale but it would not be long before he were overcome. These wizards had powerful protection against Stunning and other magical attacks, nothing could phase them for long. A punch in the face was almost more effective. Allegra stood on the platform watching, apparently not considering the outcome to be uncertain enough to be worth her exerting herself.

Hermione looked back at Harry. He drew her forward until she was a mere half-meter from him. She met his eyes and tried to concentrate, tried to think only of the strong connection to him which the Librarian had said was so necessary. He raised his hand and she did the same; upon some tacit signal they brought them together between them. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Allegra watching them with an angry face.

Their palms met with a sound like a thunderclap, the red witchlight enveloped them both. Hermione cried out in pain as the shock of what felt like hundreds of volts of electricity coursed through her. Harry's face was contorted into a frightful grimace and his hair stood on end, both their cloaks whipping around their bodies. Allegra was now trying to stop them. She had her wand out and was throwing curse after curse in their direction but they were inexplicably deflected. She screamed at a nearby wizard to do something, gesturing up at them with agitation.

Hermione gripped Harry's fingers like a vise, her other hand wrapped around her own wrist to keep their hands together. She heard herself speaking the last stanza without realizing she'd opened her mouth; she could only assume Harry was doing his part. With each syllable the magical circuit they had formed grew more and more powerful. Hermione struggled to keep ahold of his hand when her brain was urging her to let go, for God's sake.

She opened her eyes as the last word left her lips, relieved to see that he was speaking in synch with her. As the spell concluded, a wave of red light shot out in all directions from their clasped hands, flooding the entire room in a blood-soaked glow. The surge of magic was gone as suddenly as it had come and she was left merely holding Harry's hand several meters above the ground.

The green-cloaked Circle wizards were still fighting, but to their amazement their wands no longer functioned. One by one they backed away, suddenly unsure. Allegra was shaking her head as if she couldn't believe it. Draco, a look of grim satisfaction on his face, gleefully Stunned several wizards...they stayed down this time. His wand held before him, he herded the rest to one side of the room. Hermione released Harry's hand and sank slowly to the floor. The others just stood there staring at Harry as he floated gently to the ground.

He faced Allegra, his hands on his hips. "Okay. Now what?"

Out of nowhere, one of the anonymous green-robed goons suddenly gave a yell and rushed at Harry from the left side. Harry sidestepped his kamikaze lunge and slammed a foot into his midsection, then grabbed the guy's head and smashed it into his knee, throwing him to the side. He stepped back and faced the others, his color high. "All right, who's next?" he cried. "You want to keep this up? Fine by me! Anyone else wanna take a swing?" No one took him up on it. "Good. Then you'll all live to see a nice, comfortable jail cell."

Allegra still looked merely chagrined at this turn of events. She did not appear remotely frightened or furious. "You presume too much, Harry."

"What are you going to do? Say 'booga-booga' and wiggle your fingers at me?"

"My master..."

"Oh, enough about your bloody Master! We've yet to see hide nor hair of him! You know, I'm beginning to wonder if there really is a Master, Allegra. Perhaps it's just you!"

"Potter," Draco murmured. "I hate to interrupt your little melodrama, but we can't stand here all day. What now?"

Harry shot him an curt glance. "Well, since you seem to be the one pulling rabbits out of your hat around here, I rather thought you'd have planned for this contingency."

"I didn't think this far ahead. Tell you the truth, I didn't have much hope that you'd live this long."

Harry snorted. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." Hermione glanced from one to the other, thinking how comforting it was to see that Draco and Harry were no closer to being fast friends than they'd ever been, the former's unexpected heroics notwithstanding. It lent a certain sense of order and stability to the universe that they weren't rushing to become blood brothers. Harry stepped back, not taking his eyes off Allegra. "What happens now is that we send a message to the I.D. and wait for the cavalry."

"Not necessary," Sorry said. "I sent an owl and an Apparating locator to Remus Lupin right before the changeover ceremony began. They should be here soon."

Harry smiled. "Good. I'm glad someone here is thinking ahead."

Sorry stepped up to Harry's side. "What about Winter? Can't we do something for her?"

Everyone looked over to where she stood, still behind the podium, not having moved an inch during the entire fracas. Harry bit his lip, then nodded. "Draco, keep an eye on the peanut gallery, will you?" Draco gave a terse nod, not taking his eyes off said gallery. Harry and Sorry stepped up to the platform to where Winter stood placidly staring straight ahead. Hermione watched from a distance, keeping close to Quinn, who seemed about to collapse. Harry stood at Winter's side and peered into her blank eyes.

"I'm not terribly familiar with this curse," Sorry admitted.

"Ordinarily it can only be lifted by the witch who imposed it," Harry said, glancing at Allegra, "but I'll see what I can do." He glanced up at Sorry's anxious face. "Now...she's been under for a long time and her brain will need some time to recover. She'll probably lose consciousness at once." Sorry nodded and stood behind her, ready to catch her if she should fall. Harry thought a moment, fingering his chin, then stepped in front of Winter and placed his hands on either side of her head. Hermione saw his hands crackle slightly and Winter's body stiffen. Harry stepped away and Winter slumped into Sorry's arms, unconscious.

Hermione was watching the scene on the platform. Quinn had her eyes shut, her teeth clamped tightly together against cries of pain from her arm, which appeared to be broken. Draco was watching the Circle wizards. No one, unfortunately, was watching Allegra.

A slight movement caught Hermione's eye and she turned just in time to see Allegra bend quickly and retrive something from the floor by the platform. She sucked in a breath as she realized it was a sword, its blade stained with blood...probably, she realized, the blood of the unnamed woman who had been killed in her own stead. Allegra moved with amazing quickness, she was on the platform before anyone realized what was happening. "Harry, look out!" Hermione cried.

Harry whirled around to see her bearing down on him, sword raised as if to slice him right down the middle. He reacted quickly, raising his right arm and swinging it towards her to deflect the blade. Hermione steeled herself against the gout of blood she was expecting as Allegra's sword severed Harry's arm at the elbow...but instead she heard only the clank of metal against metal.

As he swung his arm forward, a sword appeared in Harry's hand and met Allegra's blade in midair, still glittering from its materialization. "Ha!" he exclaimed in relief. Hermione's eyes widened as she recognized the sword in Harry's hand. It was Godric Gryffindor's, its jeweled hilt unmistakable. Upon his graduation Harry had discovered a long package in his room, a gift from Dumbledore. The sword had been inside, with a typically cryptic note from the headmaster. Rumors ran rampant in the wizarding world (where talk was exceedingly cheap...especially Potter gossip, a favorite and neverending topic) that Harry and his father were descended directly from Godric Gryffindor and this was why the sword had been given to him, but this ancestry had never been substantiated though Hermione had always wondered about it. Harry kept the sword mounted on the wall in his room...or did he? "Nice try," he said now to Allegra.

She stepped back, keeping her sword between them. "Are you afraid to face me without magic?"

"Why would I be?"

"Well, swordfighting was your weakest discipline. You never did beat me."

"Times change."

"We'll see." She straightened and lifted the flat of the sword to her forehead. Harry did the same, then they stood facing each other en garde.

The moment seemed to stretch on forever. Hermione stood with her fists clenched so tightly that later she would find half-moon shaped indentations in the palms of her hands from her fingernails. Sorry, his grandmother in his arms, backed up slowly off the platform to a safer distance. Draco kept his eyes on his charges, grimly ignoring the proceedings, but Quinn watched silently, clutching her arm tightly to her body.

Hermione wondered what they were waiting for...then she took a better look at their faces and understood. Harry's was stony and calm as a glacier, Allegra's was tense and excited and growing more so with each passing second. He was letting her mind do some of his work for him, just as Ron used to let his time run down to make her nervous in their ad hoc chess tournaments. Finally Allegra took the first swing, as she had to...for it was achingly clear that Harry would have waited forever.

She thrust her sword towards him, he deflected it, and it began. They moved back and forth across the platform, the sound of their swords striking each other filling the room as they parried back and forth.

"You've been practicing," she said.

"Have I?"

"Seven years ago I would have won already."

"Perhaps you've just gotten worse."

She lunged, thrusting her sword upwards. He spun around and knocked it away, forcing her to take a step forward to recover from the lunge and they swapped positions, facing each other again, the intensity of their strikes increasing as the beads of sweat began to pop out on their brows.

"Do you remember the last time we did this?" she said.

"No."

"We ended up having sex in the equipment locker on a big pile of tumbling mats."

"Ah, is that why you wanted this fight? Hoping history would repeat itself? Sorry, I'm spoken for, I don't care how peckish you're feeling."

He ducked as she swiped her sword at him, then rolled quickly past her, coming up in a crouch as she turned around just in time to prevent him from running her through. "Your fighting repartee has definitely improved."

"Practice makes perfect. Too bad the goons you usually send after me can't offer much in return."

Hermione was so tense she felt like she might fly apart into a million pieces at any moment. "How can they be so flippant about this?" she hissed.

"It's an attack strategy," Quinn whispered. "They're not flippant at all. Each is hoping to distract the other one just enough to finish it."

Harry had Allegra backed up to the edge of the platform, a significant step down. He thrust once and she stumbled backwards, sprawling on her back to the floor but managing to keep a grip on her sword. Harry took a step forward and jumped over her, turning in the air and landing on the other side of her facing the platform. She barely had time to scramble to her feet before he was on her again. Their blades flashed faster and faster through the air, their feet dancing on the stone floor of the chamber. "I'm impressed," she said, beginning to gasp a little bit. "You might be better than me."

"You knew that before you attacked me," he said.

"You see the blood on this sword?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how it got there?"

"Yes."

"Well, hold that thought...perhaps we can re-enact the scene without the stunt doubles." She suddenly broke away and strode towards where Hermione and Quinn stood, her sword raised. Harry took a running leap and flipped through the air over her head, coming down directly in her path. Allegra stopped short, eyebrows raised. "Nice flip! And without a springboard!"

"You leave them out of it," he said. "This is between you and me."

Allegra's lip curled in a scowl and for the first time the false joviality left her expression. A chill ran through Hermione's body...never had she seen Allegra without that smug, sarcastic half-smile on her face. Now that it was gone she could see the blackness behind her beautiful features, and it was horrifying. "So be it," she said, and attacked him again.

This time there was no banter, no taunts, no fancy moves. There was no finesse and no holding back. They were now just trying to kill each other, plain and simple. The swords were almost a blur between them, and their grunts and gasps were audible to all. Hermione was almost unable to follow it, they were moving so fast.

Harry stepped back and tensed for another lunge. Allegra feigned a block then stepped in underneath his blade and thrust her sword downward into his chest. Hermione heard someone scream and realized it was herself; she clamped her hands over her mouth, not wishing to distract him. Harry cried out in pain...Allegra's blade had pierced all the way through him high in his left shoulder just below the collarbone. The tip protruded from his back a good eight inches. His left arm hung useless, his right somehow keeping a grip on his own sword. Hermione wanted to help him but she feared that any move she made would only make things worse.

Allegra ruthlessly twisted the sword in his flesh; Harry cried out hoarsely and fell to his knees, his face twisted into a grimace of pain, blood pouring down the side of his chest. "How are the mighty fallen," Allegra said. "The great Harry Potter, such a threat to Voldemort and all things dark, the only one of his kind...twitching like a bug on a pin right here at my feet."

He glared up at her. "What are you waiting for?" he managed through clenched teeth. "Do it!"

Hermione watched numbly. Do something, her mind insisted. She did take a step forward, intending vaguely to throw herself at Allegra, but Quinn held her back. "Don't," she whispered. "You won't help him by getting yourself killed. Trust him."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Allegra was saying. "You know there's a part of me that really is fond of you."

"Save it," he said. "It's too late."

"Very well," she said. She tensed to withdraw the sword and stab him again...but before she could, Harry reached up with his weakened left hand and grabbed the sword's blade. Blood flowed from his palm but he didn't let go. Allegra was too surprised to do anything for the moment. Harry stood up quickly and pistoned his foot into her abdomen. She fell to the ground, but her sword stayed in Harry's chest.

He grabbed the hilt of the sword, squinched his eyes shut and pulled it out of his shoulder, a cry tearing from his throat as he did so. He murmured a few words and laid his palm on the wound for a moment; his fingers glowed briefly and the blood flow stopped.

He threw Allegra's sword safely away and stood over her, his breath rushing in and out of his chest, his face wild with anger and pain. Allegra rose slowly to her knees, her palms wide in supplication. She shrugged, surrendering. That smug half-smile was back. "All right, you win." She leaned her head back, exposing her chest to him. "I'm ready. Do it."

He just stood there staring down at her for a moment, considering. He won't, Hermione thought. Of course he won't.

Harry raised the sword over his head, ready to strike. Oh God, Harry, Hermione thought. Don't do it. She could feel Quinn tensing up next to her. His face was terrible, fury and pain distorting his usually amiable features almost beyond recognition. The sword stopped at the apex of the swing and stayed there. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

"What are you waiting for?" Allegra whispered. "Kill me. You know you want to. Remember how I betrayed you? Remember how I tore out your heart and stomped all over it with my football cleats? Remember how I made you think I'd killed Hermione? Remember Lefty? Take your revenge! You've earned it!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione cried. "Don't!"

"I have to," he said, his voice quavering. "The things she's done...I have to stop her."

"You have stopped her." Hermione took a hesitant step towards him. The sword was shaking in the air as he stared down at this woman whose actions had haunted him for most of his adult life. For her part, Allegra merely knelt placidly on the floor, waiting. "Look at her, Harry...she wants you to kill her. If she can't beat you then at least she can bring you down with her. Just take her to jail."

"Jail won't hold her for long," he whispered. "This is the only way."

"You know it's wrong," she said, coming a step closer. "You can't kill her in cold blood, that's not your way. You're not like her, Harry."

He swallowed hard. "I want to kill her..."

"Of course you do," she said. "She's done horrible things to you. But Harry...there are a million Allegras out there. If you strike her down another will rise to take her place. You can't sacrifice your soul just for her. She's not worth it."

The sword was now shaking so violently it looked like he was using it to conduct a performance of "Flight of the Bumblebee." An endless moment passed during which Hermione swore her heart did not beat as she waited for his response...then, at length, his face relaxed and his eyes fell closed. He lowered the sword and turned to face her. "Hermione...oh God..."

"I know," she said. He lurched the few steps to meet her and she caught him as he fell into her arms, his breathing ragged and Godric's sword clattering to the stones. Hermione held him tightly, his arms dangling limply at his sides. "I know," she repeated.

"I wanted to...I almost..."

"Shh. She has no power over you."

His arms rose to encircle her, marking her clothes with his own blood. He exhaled mightily and seemed to relax. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize." She leaned back and kissed his damp forehead.

Harry smiled weakly down at her and seemed about to speak, but all at once he winced and staggered sideways, his good arm rising to clutch at his wound, which was bleeding anew.

"Oh...we've got to get you to a hospital," she said.

"I'm okay," he said through gritted teeth.

"The hell you are," Sorry said. He had laid Winter carefully on the floor and come forward to guard Allegra, who had risen slowly and now stood still and silent, her head lowered. "You've got a sword hole clear through your chest!"

Hermione would have voiced agreement but before she could, the air to their right began to shimmer. "Thank God," she muttered as a dozen bodies materialized in the chamber. She counted ten uniformed I.D. agents and a woman in civilian clothes she didn't recognize. Remus Lupin was at the front.

"Harry!" he exclaimed, quickly assessing the situation and hurrying forward, beckoning to the strange woman. He motioned to the agents, indicating that they were to tend to the Circle wizards. "Good God, what's happened here?"

"We'll explain later," Hermione said. "He's been stabbed."

The strange woman stepped forward and examined his shoulder. "She's a doctor," Remus explained to Hermione, for Harry seemed to recognize her. He looked past them to the gaggle of Circle wizards. "What's all this, then?"

"A good portion of the Circle, Remus," Harry said. "And we can thank this man for a large part of their capture." Draco turned around and faced them as the I.D. agents began taking the dark wizards into custody.

Lupin's eyes nearly popped right out of their sockets. "Malfoy?!?" he said, incredulous.

"He saved our lives," Harry said, wincing as the mediwitch tore his shirt to get to his wound.

Lupin threw up his hands. "We'll talk about it later. Right now let's just get everyone back to the I.D. and get you some proper medical attention." He looked over at Quinn. "You appear to need some, too."

"I'll live," she said, leaning against Draco, her lips pressed together into a grim little line.

Lupin turned and faced Allegra. "What do you propose we do with her?" he murmured.

Harry looked at her. Her lack of reaction was troubling. She had not spoken, moved, or exhibited any sign that she was aware of the world around her. It bothered him, but he couldn't see that she was any threat at the moment...not surrounded by several of his agents, at least. "Just take her back with us, I suppose. Information Retrieval will want to have a go at her, that much I know."

Hermione was watching Allegra, something nagging at the back of her mind. I've forgotten something, she thought. What? Everything's over...isn't it? She peered closer...Allegra's long raven hair was hanging in her face, obscuring her features. The strands were moving ever so slightly. As if there was a small breeze...or as if she were speaking very quietly behind that curtain of hair. "Oh no," Hermione whispered.

Allegra spread her hands out to her sides and abruptly threw her head back, her mouth moving very rapidly as she spoke a long series of words. Her eyes had gone a uniform blue color. "What fresh hell is this?" Draco growled, striding forward. Harry put out a hand to stop him.

"No! She's doing something!"

"Harry!" Hermione said. "The time manipulation magic!"

"Yes," he said, for it was plain to see that what she was doing. Lightning was crackling around Allegra's hands and a column of glittering blue light was coalescing around her body as she spoke the words. Her hair flew around her in an inky hurricane and her dress billowed wildly, whipped around her legs by an invisible wind.

Draco tried to rush at her again but Harry held him back. "We've got to stop her! She could jump backwards and stop any of this from happening! Kill you, kill me, kill everyone!"

"You can't stop her in the middle of the spell," Harry said. "It's too dangerous! A spell this powerful, to interrupt it could be disastrous! You don't mess around with time magic, it could rip this timeline apart like tissue paper!"

"Is it worth chancing her going back in time?"

Hermione heard very little of this. Her eyes were fixed on Allegra as her mind raced. In her head she heard Sorry's voice as he described the Circle's time manipulations spell: It's largely a mental projection. And then her own reply: Like a glamour?

She sucked in a breath as she remembered what she'd forgotten. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her cloak...Quinn slipped something into my pocket, what was it? If it is what I think it was...her fingers closed on the object and she withdrew it.

In her hand she held Quinn's silver-lensed Glamour Glasses. She looked from the glasses to Allegra, who was now completely enveloped in a vertical column of light so bright it hurt to look at it. Harry wouldn't allow anyone to stop her and he and Draco were still arguing about it. If she didn't do something soon Allegra would jump backwards in time and this timeline would cease to exist.

She steeled her resolve and thrust the glasses onto her face. Nothing looked terribly different, except Allegra stood out in sharp relief. She ran forward, ignoring the shouts that followed her.

Allegra's head snapped up and her eyes fell on Hermione. Her mouth twisted into a fearful grimace. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione was damned if she'd let her get out another of her patented sarcastic barbs.

She took a deep breath and thrust her hands through the column of light, seizing Allegra by the upper arms. It was like grabbing a live power line. She heard her own screams mixed with Allegra's and felt the time magicks crackle and spark around them as they began to disintegrate. Allegra's flesh jumped and undulated under her fingers but she held on in a deathgrip. Her eyes were frozen in a wide stare and so she could not close them as Allegra's face began to...distort, as if she were existing in more than one time at once and couldn't manage to maintain her integrity. Let go! Let go! her brain was yelling...but she couldn't. Her muscles were jammed with all the power coursing through her body, nothing was responding. She saw Allegra trying to hold on...and then saw her raise both hands, palms forward, and shove her away with a mighty effort.

Hermione shot through the air away from Allegra, propelled by a force beyond a mere shove, every nerve ending crackling and the Glamour Glasses flying from her face. She felt someone catch her as she came down but didn't see who it was...every eye in the room was watching Allegra and what was happening to her.

The column of light that had enveloped Allegra was now imploding upon her. She was trying to re-establish control but it was too late. The magicks began to tighten around her, her form pulling away with them, and swirl away like water down a drain. A final scream pierced the air and then with a slight pop she was gone. The room was quiet, empty of energy, and oddly vacuous as if it had lost its very reason for being. Hermione heard voices, from far away. She heard her own name, she heard someone barking orders...the voices receded and darkness encroached upon her vision. It enveloped her in its warm and insensible embrace and she knew no more.

**********

When she opened her eyes again, she wasn't at Lexa Kor....unless Lexa Kor had comfortable, well-appointed rooms in which their prisoners could recuperate.

The ceiling, which was the first thing she saw, was a uniform warm tan color, very soothing. She looked around cautiously...she appeared to be in a hospital bed, though her room looked more like someone's bedchamber than a hospital room.

And she wasn't alone. Harry was sitting in a chair drawn close to the bed, but she couldn't see his face. His head was bowed down on the edge of the bed, his forehead resting on one of her hands, which he was holding in both of his own. "Harry," she said, her voice sounding like her throat was full of gravel. She cleared her throat.

Harry's head jerked up and he stared at her, surprised. He was pale and there were tired purple circles under his eyes, which were red and swollen as if he'd been crying. Then he grinned and it transformed his face, she could not help but smile back. He straightened and scooted closer, gently smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "Hey, sleepy head," he said. "Look who's awake." He looked back over his shoulder and called out to the hallway. "Laura!"

Hermione smiled to see her roommate come running in from the hall. She also looked pale as she hurried to the other side of Hermione's bed, picking up one of her hands. "Oh, honey...how are you feeling?"

Hermione moved a little, tensing for pain or soreness. "I feel fine, I think." She lifted her head and held out her hands; Harry and Laura helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her back. "Bit of a headache. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Almost six hours," Harry said, sobering. "Here, have some chocolate." He handed her a piece from the bedside table. "You're in the I.D. infirmary. You stopped breathing. We didn't know if you'd make it." He kissed her hand. "I almost lost you. Again."

"Well, I'm all right now," she said, lifting her hand to his cheek. She frowned, seeing that his recently-impaled chest appeared recovered. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he said.

"He wouldn't let the mediwizards heal him unless they could do it right here," Laura said in a scolding tone. "So they had to make do. I'll go tell Remus and the others that you're awake." She squeezed Hermione's hand with a smile. "You've had everyone quite worried, young lady." Hermione smiled back and watched her go, then turned back to Harry.

For a long moment they just looked at each other, volumes worth of conversations exchanged in mere seconds. She sighed and slid over, patting the bed next to her. "Come up here with me." Harry climbed onto the bed and drew her gently into his arms, as if afraid she'd break. Hermione burrowed into his embrace, relaxing in thesecurity she always found there. Harry rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. "What you did was really stupid," he said.

Hermione chuckled. "Worked, didn't it?"

"You could have been killed. You almost were killed."

"I had to do something. I couldn't let her get away with it."

"Stupid," he repeated. "But very brave." He hesitated. "Quinn's told me she slipped you her Glamour Glasses."

"Good thing I remembered to use them."

"I'm sure if you hadn't Quinn would have found some way to remind you." His voice was a tad cynical.

"What do you mean?"

"You must have realized that she and Draco all but set up this entire situation."

She nodded against his chest. "He sent you the messages, to your mind. The attacks."

"Yes. Hidden in the attacks was the spell that they needed us to perform so Allegra could be defeated. Quinn made sure we both made it to Lexa Kor, and she gave you the means to break the time manipulation spell while Draco set me free before Allegra could change me over. He used his position as one of her trusted agents to manipulate us."

"You're not happy about it, are you?"

"Well, I'd rather be fighting my own fights."

"But this was your fight. It's just that...it was theirs, too." She looked up at him. "Have you spoken to Draco? What caused this dramatic turnaround?"

"I don't know. I'm sure that will be a hot topic at the debriefing."

She snuggled close to him again. "Harry..." she began after a long pause.

"I know. We never finished our conversation in the cell."

"You were going to tell me. Your last secret."

He sighed. "I've already been through this with Remus and Argo and the others, just so I could tell you when we were alone."

"I've seen what you can do. Some of it, at least. Things no other wizard can do." She laced her fingers through his. "Tell me the truth."

He nodded and took a deep breath. "All right." He thought for a moment, then began to speak. "We're used to conceiving the world as an 'us' and 'them' sort of place. Us being wizards, and them being Muggles."

"Yes."

"As it turns out...that's not 100% accurate. There's Muggles, there's wizards, and then there's me."

"You're a wizard."

"Technically, yes. I don't wish to sound boastful, but I'm quoting Dumbledore when I say that I am a wizard in the way that humans are vertebrates. Technically true, but there's a lot more to it than just that."

"Like what?"

He sighed. "Hermione, I have powers and abilities that other wizards don't have...and new ones have a rather annoying habit of popping up unexpectedly."

"Such as being able to fly?"

"Yes, among other things. The flying took some practice, I can assure you, but it comes in very handy. And it's rather fun, to be honest." He bit his lip, thinking. "But that's not the point. What I can do isn't the difference. My uniqueness lies in my ability to control magic with my mind. I need no wands, no spells or charms, no talismans or enchanted objects. I can perform magic just by thinking about it. Magic is a force of nature, like magnetism or gravity...a force that exists apart from human beings. Ordinarily, when wizards need it they summon it and control it with assistance from wands or spells. For me, magic is just something that is within me all the time. I need not summon it or instruct it. It is a permanent part of me, and it obeys my thoughts just as my muscles do."

Hermione considered this concept for a moment, it was alien enough that it was difficult to grasp. She couldn't imagine living and breathing magic as he seemed to...but it certainly explained a few things about him. "How is that possible?" she said.

"There's an ancient society of wizards who call themselves the Society of the Scythe. They do nothing but study magical aptitudes and inheritance...and when I turned 18 Dumbledore took me to meet them. Apparently they've been waiting for someone like me for centuries."

"Centuries?"

"Yes. Magical ability is genetic like everything else. Many genes code for it, and the combination that we inherit from our parents determines our magical aptitude. It decides whether we'll be a Dumbledore or a Neville. It decides whether we'll be better at Transfiguration or Charms. It decides whether we have the stuff to be an Animagus, or if we'll have any skill on a broomstick. The Scythes told me that there is a very rare gene, which they call the Mage factor, that floats around the wizarding world, a gene that codes for extraordinary rapport with the magical forces. It's recessive, so both of your parents have to have one of them for you to even have a shot, and then it's only one in four odds that you'll up an honest-to-God Mage, but even if you're only half-Mage it affects you. Those who have one of the Mage genes show higher magical ability, perhaps 0.5 percent of the wizarding population fits this category. Dumbledore was half-Mage, and so was Tom Riddle. You just never know for sure until after they're dead and the test for the gene can be performed. All that the Scythes had ever had the opportunity to study were half-Mages, going back over a thousand years. The odds of two half-Mages having a child and then for that child to beat the 1-in-4 odds and end up with two Mage factors were so small that it had never happened to their knowledge."

"Until you."

He nodded, seeming almost embarrassed by this happenstance of genetics which had been totally out of his control. "My parents were both half-Mage, and I beat the odds. I'm the first full Mage in recorded history. There. I said it."

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I don't know what to say." She looked up at him. "What can you do?"

"Well, I can do a lot of things...but some of the major ones include influencing other people's minds, controlling the weather, manipulation of matter and objects, immunity to many curses and attacks, accelerated healing and certain attack skills."

"What, like shooting laser beams out of your eyes?"

He chuckled. "Nothing quite so Flash Gordon, but the occasional lightning bolt certainly makes a statement."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't believe this. You weren't that much different from everyone else in school."

"True, but I was a little different. I was as surprised as everyone else when I managed to resist an Imperius Curse at age 14. I thought Moody was just going easy on me, but he wasn't. And let's not forget...the magic I would later learn to use was strong enough at age 1 to save me from Voldemort."

"I thought your mother's sacrifice did that."

"It helped, but that alone would not have saved me. Voldemort killed a lot of people, and many of those died trying to protect someone else...ultimately, it didn't save those they died to protect. I would have been just as dead if my genes hadn't protected me. Voldemort knew it and he came after me again later, over and over again. That's why he came to my parents' house in the first place. It wasn't them he was after, it was me. He wasn't sure he could kill a fully grown and mature Mage, he was pretty sure he could kill a baby one. Didn't work out that way. The Scythes don't know how he knew what I was when they didn't know themselves, but it's clear that he did and that he considered me a threat."

"You were."

"As he would later learn," he said grimly. "I didn't really start exploring the full extent of my abilities until after I left Hogwarts, and even more intensely once I joined the I.D., by which time Dumbledore was gone. Little did I know he'd charged someone to help me realize my potential."

Hermione smiled. "Lefty?"

Harry nodded. "Lefty is actually a member of the Society of the Scythe. Dumbledore asked him to make sure I learned to use my abilities...and control them." This last was said a little ominously.

"Control them?"

"Yes. It still gives me problems. Magic is nothing to be trifled with, as we both know. I may have access to more of it than anyone else but that doesn't mean I'm any better at keeping it in line. It frightens me at times, the idea that I might not be able to control it." He hesitated. "And there are certain moral considerations. I have the ability to affect minds, as you saw at Grunnings. I could use that ability for very dishonorable purposes if I chose to. I have to set very strict rules for myself. I rarely use my more Mage-like abilities in daily life. I still use my wand on a regular basis, and you know how much use I get out of my broomstick. And there is the surprise factor...no use advertising that I have all these skills when they would be more useful later if they remained secret."

"But Allegra knew." She was unable to keep the bitterness away from her voice.

"She had to, she helped with my training. Lefty trusted her...we all did," he finished.

"Harry...is she dead?"

"I don't know," he said after a long pause. "That remains to be seen." Hermione sat up, withdrawing from his arms, and looked away. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just...it's a lot of information to get all at once." They sat in silence for a few moments. "And you never told me this, either."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Oh Harry, why do we keep having this same conversation? First your job, and then Allegra, and now this!" She turned and looked in his eyes. "You say this is your last secret. Will it still be so tomorrow? In a week or a month or a year will you be apologizing for something else you haven't told me?"

"There's nothing else I haven't told you. Unlike my job and Allegra, I wanted to tell you about this years ago...but I was sworn to secrecy. Dumbledore made me promise not to reveal it. He didn't wish to make of me any more of a target than I already was."

"So why are you breaking your word to him now?"

He looked at her, his gaze intense. "There comes a time in every man's life when he has to grow up, Hermione. Make his own decisions and not accept the decisions of others where they affect his own life. That time is only coming for me now. I want you to know everything I am, and I see no reason to keep it from my colleagues or from anyone else who wishes to know. If there are things I can do for the wizarding world then I will do them. If if will give the dark forces a second thought to know for the first time in...well, ever...that if they try something it's more than just plain Harry Potter they'll be pissing off, then I don't care if everyone knows. I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this. You have no idea how I fought this. I never wanted to be special, or any kind of Mage-whatever. I just wanted to be a normal kid, and a normal wizard. I wanted to have friends and classes and a normal family..." He stopped abruptly and looked away, his throat working. She knew it still hit him at odd moments. She couldn't remain distant upon seeing it; she moved closer and slipped her arms around him, pulling his head down to her chest and cradling him gently. She felt his arms go around her waist gratefully. "I wanted to be normal," he repeated. "But I always knew I wasn't. I never imagined how not-normal I would eventually turn out to be." He fetched a deep sigh. "Even so, if what I am can help anyone, then I'm glad for it. If I can stop Voldemort's heirs, real or imagined, from gaining a foothold again then I'll jump right in and use every ability I have and whatever new ones I can think up."

She smiled against the top of his head. "Well, my love...I think it's official."

"What is?"

"You were toeing the line before, but I think now you've crossed all the way over from wizard to superhero."

He began to shake and for a moment she was afraid he was crying, but then realized with relief that he was laughing. He straightened up, grinning. "Superhero, huh? I guess there are worse things."

"We'll get you some tights and a cape." She cocked an eyebrow. "You might look good in them."

He rolled his eyes. "No tights, thank you. But actually...I already have a cape. It's partof my I.D. uniform." He slid off the bed. "Which I should be putting on shortly, in point of fact."

"Uniform?" she said, frowning.

"Well, yes. Surely you've noticed all the field agents walking around in uniform and saluting me. The I.D. is something of a military organization, though not nearly as hup-two-three-four as Muggle armies. Almost all of us are officers in the Federation Enforcement Corps. We're granted commissions when we finish our training here. Most of us don't bother with uniforms on a daily basis but I do have one, and I'll have to wear it to the debriefing. It's sort of an official thing."

"Is it awful and garish like the Royal Guard?"

"No, actually it's quite nice. Would you believe that Argo hired Hugo Boss to design them? She has her flaws but lack of style isn't one of them." He leaned over her. "I've been asked to bring you to the debriefing if you feel up to it. Do you feel up to it?"

"Yes!" she said, anxious to get out of the room and hear everyone's thoughts on what had just happened. "When is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "Two hours."

"I'll just wash up...oh, I don't have any clean clothes."

"Laura brought you some from home." She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. "I must say, you are a lot less freaked out by my revelations than I thought you would be."

She shrugged. "It's not as much of a surprise as you might think. I've always known you had special abilities, I just didn't have the label to stick on them. And you're still my Harry, nothing's really changed." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, then headed for the private bathroom.

"I have to go to my office," he said, watching her go. "When you're ready come on down and meet me there."

"Okay, see you then." She shut the bathroom door behind her as Harry left the room.

**********

Hermione left her room scrubbed and clean-smelling, feeling infinitely better for it. An agent in the black uniform of an I.D. field operative was stationed outside. "Dr. Granger," he said pleasantly. "Feeling all right?"

"Uh, yes, thanks. How do I get to Harry's office?"

"Just call for your bubble, it'll take you there."

"I don't have my own bubble."

"Actually, you do. Chief Potter said you're to have your own from now on."

Hermione gave an inward shrug. "Bubble," she said. Immediately a sea-green bubble appeared before her, awaiting instructions. "Take me to Harry," she said. It bobbed off down the corridor and she followed through the now-familiar labyrinth of corridors.

At length they arrived at Harry's office, marked with the lightning-bolt symbol on the door. She knocked. "Come in," came his voice from inside.

She opened the door and entered, then stopped short. He was standing by a filing cabinet looking down at a few sheets of parchment he was holding, dressed in his I.D. uniform. Hermione's mouth dropped open when she saw him, suddenly understanding why women the world over swooned over men in uniform.

It was very flattering and all black, which didn't surprise her. Fitted slacks over spit-shined boots. The top was a hip-length jacket, very Spartan and unadorned, broad-shouldered and tapering to the hips. It was almost a Nehru style, with a high upright collar and no trace of fastenings down the center seam. On either side of the collar split were several gold bars, probably rank insignia, and there was a gold medallion on a purple ribbon fastened over the left side of his chest. She imagined it was an award or honor of some kind.

The only indulgence to ostentation was the cape. It appeared to be a simple long length of deep purple silk draped from his shoulders, gathered there and fastened just over his collarbones with wide gold bars engraved with the same insignia that were on his collar.

She saw all this in a matter of seconds. "Oh my," she murmured.

Harry put down the documents and frowned. "What's wrong?"

She stepped forward, smiling, and laid a hand on his chest. "Well, this...this is really sexy."

A slow smile spread over his face. "Really?" He didn't sound like he quite believed her.

"Oh, yeah." She sobered, his hands lightly cupping her elbows as she rested her hands on his chest. "What's this debriefing all about?"

"Argo will want to know exactly what happened. Remus and I will give our accounts of the events, and I'm sure she'll want to hear from you and Draco and Quinn as well. I will also have some very serious questions to answer."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Maybe. When I left without informing anyone, I violated several pages worth of I.D. regulations not to mention Argo's direct orders. I could be looking at a court-martial or even dismissal. But hey," he added quickly, noting her alarmed expression, "it's unlikely to come to that. I acted in a good faith manner to safeguard the lives of others, and had I asked for permission it could have compromised the mission. Here in Intelligence we're accustomed to having to sometimes sacrifice procedure to maintain our secrecy. On top of that, I brought in a bunch of bad guys, which never hurts. Argo will probably punish me with some really boring stakeouts for a few weeks and then forget all about it. And, unfair as it may sound, being a Mage makes me rather valuable, too much so to dismiss casually."

Hermione sighed. "I'm really anxious to hear what Draco has to say."

"As am I." He looked at his watch. "Shall we go?"

They left the office and followed Harry's bubble over to an unfamiliar part of the I.D., which Harry explained was the administrative wing. Here and there were other agents in uniforms like Harry's, though she only saw one other person in a cape, and some were of different styles. They entered a wide lobby in which were set a large pair of double doors labeled "Conference Room."

She saw Draco and Quinn standing close together, and Remus was in the middle of the lobby talking to someone whose back was to them. Remus wore a uniform like Harry's except that he was capeless and his pants were more like breeches, they disappeared into shin-high black jackboots. The person he was talking to was gesticulating wildly and seemed very agitated...as they approached, Hermione smiled as she recognized the gesticulator.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed as they neared. Sirius turned around, his face creased into a worried expression which fell away as he saw them.

"Harry!" he said, coming forward to meet them. He embraced his godson, relief evident on his face. "Merlin's ghost, I'm glad to see you." He drew back and clasped Harry's forearms. "Are you all right? Remus said you'd been stabbed!"

Harry smiled. "I'm fine, Sirius, really. You seem distraught."

Sirius' expression darkened. "Would you believe that I just found out about all this business?"

Harry shrugged. "That's Argo for you. Keep I.D. issues strictly in-house until absolutely necessary. She must not have felt I was in any real danger or she would have notified you."

"Still, I wish I could have helped."

"You've got enough to do, Sirius. I was quite ably assisted." He smiled down at Hermione, who had her arm through his.

Sirius stood there, his hands on his hips, his eyes flicking from one to the other as if he were watching a tennis game. He looked at them through narrowed eyes. "What's going on here?" he asked. Harry grinned and shot a glance at Remus over Sirius' shoulder. He looked down into Hermione's eyes, the significance in their gaze not lost on the observers. "Oh, no," Sirius said. "Don't be cruel, now. Don't tease your poor old godfather, Harry."

"I would never tease about something so important," Harry said. "And if you're old then I'm Cornelius Fudge."

Sirius stepped forward, slowly and cautiously putting one hand on Harry's shoulder, the other on Hermione's, a hopeful smile curling his lips. "Really? You're really...really?" It seemed to be all he could say.

"Yes...really," Hermione said, beaming.

Sirius nodded happily, squeezing their shoulders, then abruptly turned and pointed at Lupin. "You owe me twenty Galleons."

"Oh, I don't think so!"

"Pay up! You said it wouldn't happen until after they hit 30, and I said it wouldn't take that long."

"That is not either what I said, I said it would be before 30 and you said it would take a near-death experience. It did not take a near-death experience, therefore you owe me twenty Galleons."

"Excuse me," Harry said, hands on his hips, attempting to look stern. "You two had a bet on us?"

"Oh, it wasn't just us. Who else was in on it, Remus? Fred and George and Ginny...all the Weasleys, actually."

"Don't forget Argo. Neville and Amelia. Minerva and Severus...And Fudge, too."

"Fudge?" Harry cried. "You two had the Minister of Magic wagering on my sex life?"

Sirius leaned close and whispered conspiratorially. "The Chancellor put in, too."

Harry would have said more but Argo came swishing down the hall, her own purple cape brushing the floor as she walked. Trailing behind her were more agents in uniforms. "Can we start now?" she said, going to the doors. The others fell in line behind her, all mirth evaporating. Hermione clung to Harry's hand, feeling a twinge of anxiety as they entered the large conference room. A round table sat in the center with exactly enough chairs for the assembly. They all took seats.

Argo sat between Harry and Sirius, assuming an air of command even though Sirius outranked her significantly. "Please sit still while the Oracle identifies us," she said, bending to open a box at her feet. A gleaming silver cube shot out and hovered over her head, spinning in the air.

Harry leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear. "It's for security. The Oracle can see anyone's true identity and will make sure we're all who we say we are." She nodded, watching the cube floating over Argo's head.

After a moment's thought the cube spoke in a low, smooth female voice. "Pfaffenroth, Argola Ray. Director, Intelligence Division. Rank: Colonel. Codename: Delilah."

The cube moved on to Harry. "Potter, Harold James. Chief Wizard of Counterintelligence and Covert Operations, Intelligence Division. Rank: Major. Codename: Roman." It continued on around the table, calling out everyone's names and occupations. Very efficient, Hermione mused...effectively eliminates the need for introductions.

"Granger, Hermione Ann, Doctor of Magical Philosophy. Head Charms Fellow, Institute of Magical Academics. Rank: Noncommissioned. Codename: Isis." Hermione was absurdly pleased at having been given a codename; she assumed she'd gotten one with her Bubble. They named me after the Goddess of Love, she realized. I wonder if that's coincidence.

"Cashdollar, Quinlan Marie. Hogwarts Professor. Rank: Enforcer. Codename: Antigone."

"Malfoy, Draco Lucius. Special Intelligence Operative, Intelligence Division." At this, Harry and the other I.D. agents in the room turned to stare at Draco in amazement...none of them had known he was associated with the I.D. Malfoy just shrugged. "Rank: Noncommissioned. Codename: Charon."

"Lupin, Remus John. Deputy Chief of CCO, Intelligence Division. Rank: Lieutenant. Codename: Oberon."

"Hyde-White, Isobel Joan. Chief Wizard of Surveillance and Information Retrieval, Intelligence Division. Rank: Major. Codename: Bravo."

"Ubigando, Henry Nimeri. Chief Wizard of Strategy, Intelligence Division. Rank: Captain. Codename: Roland."

"Carlisle, Sorenson Quigley. Naturalist and Circle infiltrator. Rank: Noncommissioned. Codename: Odin."

"Chow, Grace Ming-Xia. Chief Wizard of Infiltration and Reconnaissance, Intelligence Division. Rank: Captain. Codename: Aegis."

"Black, Sirius Ian. Deputy Chancellor of the International Federation of Wizards. Rank: General. Codename: Polaris."

That brought them back to Argo. Hermione's head was spinning with all the new names. "All right," Argo said. "Let's start with you, Harry. Tell us everything."

Harry started at the beginning and told the entire story, starting from his first attack weeks ago. He minced his words when it came to their relationship but since it was part of the story he couldn't leave it out entirely. It took him almost an hour to complete the tale, what with people interrupting every five minutes to ask him for clarification. Once he'd finished, Argo turned to her. "And you, Dr. Granger. Have you anything to add? You were the one who dispatched Ms. Blackburn-Dwyer."

"I had no choice."

"No blame is implied. Please tell us what led up to this event."

Hermione took a deep breath and told her side of the story, starting with when she'd set off after Harry. When she got to the point where she'd hooked up with Quinn, Henry Ubigando stopped her. "So you had no idea Professor Cashdollar had ulterior motives?"

"My motive was to stop Allegra," Quinn jumped in. "Draco and I planned this meticulously."

"You couldn't have planned it all, Quinn," Ubigando continued. "So much of it depended on coincidence!"

"The plan was rough, I admit," Draco said. "All we knew was we couldn't get to Allegra on our own, she was too well-guarded. That's when we found out about the spell that I sent to Harry."

"Where did you find it?" Harry asked.

"I found a mention in an old text of a spell that could neutralize an entire room of wizards but could not be written down. I found the actual spell probably the same way you did."

"The Librarian? Funny, she never mentioned that to me."

"She never mentions anything, Harry. It's part of her job."

"Gentlemen," Argo said gently. "Can we proceed? Dr. Granger."

Hermione continued on, describing how she and Quinn had gotten to Lexa Kor and found the body of "Hermione". "The rest, you know," she said, sobered by the memory of those events.

"How did you know how to stop Allegra's time manipulation magic?"

"Sorry told me it was like a glamour."

"Which I learned from the man I thought was Gerald," Sorry put in. "I'm sure Draco wanted me to convey that information to Harry."

"And then Quinn used her Glamour Glasses in front of me, explaining their use. During the final moments in the chamber, she slipped me the glasses. I'm only grateful that I remembered to use them."

Argo shook her head. "Malfoy, Cashdollar...never in my life have I heard a plan so tenous and prone to failure. I'm amazed it worked."

"So are we," Quinn muttered.

"A lot of the time we were making it up as we went along," Draco said. "I know Harry and Hermione quite well after spending months observing them, but they managed to surprise me more than once. I fully expected to have to reveal myself to them and enlist Harry's help to stop Allegra, but we were able to maintain our covers until the very end."

Argo looked to her right. "Chancellor? Any thoughts?"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "The office of the Chancellor, as always, has no official stance on I.D. business. Personally, I think you're all crazy."

Everyone smiled. "You've just been away too long, Sirius," said Isobel Hyde-White. "Stuck in bureaucracy hell 24-7."

"I do have one question," Sirius said, leaning forward. "What was the ultimate goal here? Draco, what prompted you to launch such an unorthodox offensive?"

Draco thought for a moment. "When I learned of Allegra's interest in the changeover I had already been secretly working against her for a long time." He looked at Harry. "She's obsessed with defeating you, you know. She can't stand the fact that once, a long time ago, you made her feel an actual emotion."

Harry straightened up. "I did?"

Draco nodded. "Don't get cocky, she was in a transitional period. Anyway, I knew I couldn't let her learn to use the changeover to destroy wizards. I had to make a far more aggressive move against her than I'd ever dared, and I knew that I would have to expose myself to her as her enemy, so I'd better make it count. I knew that in her mind you were the only real candidate for the changeover, so it made sense to use you to beat her."

Harry stared across the table at him. "You could have just asked, you know."

"I couldn't take the risk. She watched me very closely, I had to keep her believing I was loyal to her, to the point that Quinn had to make like a bad guy, too."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. "All right," Harry said softly. "Now for the million pound question. Who's her master?"

Draco sighed. "I don't know. That secret is guarded like the crown jewels. I've heard his voice, I've seen an indistinct form, but I know nothing about him...or even that it is a him."

Argo nodded, ending discussion. "Very well, Malfoy. Now Harry, you know that I wasn't too happy with you when you went charging off like Stallone." Harry winced. "But you had your reasons. I think we can overlook it. Just watch yourself. Just because you're Mr. Hotshot doesn't make you immune to disciplinary action." Harry nodded. "Are we done here?"

"One more thing," Sirius said. "Allegra. Is she gone for good?"

All eyes turned to Harry. "I don't know," he said. "She vanished after Hermione broke her spell. She may be trapped between times, or she may be dead." He hesitated. "Only time will tell."

**********

The debriefing dispersed with many promises and admonitions to submit written reports ASAP. Argo and most of the other section heads went back to their offices. Laura was waiting in the lobby when they emerged, she hadn't seen Sorry yet. He rushed to her and she jumped into his arms...it had been a long time since they'd seen each other, they retreated to a corner to catch up and reacquaint themselves.

Sirius and Remus went off to Remus' office, accepting an invitation to come to Bailicroft the next day for a picnic.

Harry and Hermione stood in the middle of the large polished floor with Draco and Quinn. For a few moments there was uncomfortable silence. "Well," Harry said. "I'm still waiting to hear how you turned from Ferret Boy into the paragon of honor and manliness we see before us today, Draco."

"Don't patronize me, Potter," he snapped. Quinn put a calming hand on his arm and he took a deep breath. "Sorry," he said grudgingly. "But I still don't like you, Potter. I don't think I ever will."

"Draco, please," Quinn whispered. "You promised."

His face softened as he looked down at her. "You're right, I did." He looked at Harry again. "So you want to know what happened, eh? I'll tell you. But I need a drink. Can we go somewhere?"

A few minutes later they had Apparated outside Hogsmeade and were installed at the Three Broomsticks with butterbeer, the four of them seated around a booth near the back. "All right," Draco said. "What Allegra said about faking my death was true. I wanted to do deep cover work for her and she was practically salivating over the idea of the top-secret glamour-disguised pet spy. I did that work for a long time, spying on everyone and everything, even Circle members. Then one day she asked me to do a workup on a witch in America who is a telepath. Allegra was interested in her for obvious reasons. I worked myself into her life, disguised as a friendly female neighbor, but she sensed me and one day tried to run away from me. I got so angry that I pursued her and grabbed her. I was crazy with rage, it was like the culmination of every angry feeling I'd had since I was a kid. I would have killed her in cold blood, except she grabbed my face and suddenly I could feel her mind inside mine. I don't know how she did it but I saw myself as she saw me...a monster, an evil horrible sorry excuse for a human being. I was pretty badly shaken up. I ran off into the woods nearby.

I stayed there for a day or so then came back. Allegra had sent my father and another Circle wizard to follow up on this woman and her small daughter. For some reason I didn't go inside, I didn't tell them I was there...I watched from outside a window. I watched as my father broke that little girl's neck in frontof her mother. I was so horrified that I threw up right where I stood. They dragged the woman out and I jumped them. They never knew it was me. The woman escaped and I ran away again, back into those woods. This time I stayed there."

Quinn jumped in. "At the time I was living in that same area. I was out for a walk when I happened across this man lying on the ground. He was emaciated, dehydrated, cut and bruised all over. He was barely alive. I took him home and took care of him. A little at a time he told me his story and I realized I'd heard of him...from you, Harry. It was clear to me he'd had some sort of life-changing event, so I helped him get a handle on what he wanted to become."

Hermione smiled at her. "And you fell in love with him."

"Yes. I fell in love with the man he was trying to be, and the one he managed to become."

"I decided I wanted to go back to Allegra," Draco went on. "And work against her from the inside. I knew it was dangerous and God knows I didn't want to be separated from Quinn, whom I'd fallen for just as hard, but it was the only way. How I managed to fool her for so long I'll never know. The rest, as they say, is history."

Harry was smiling. "I'm glad, Draco. I never told you this, but...I always suspected that somewhere inside you was a core of goodness."

"How can you say that after all the horrible things I did to you?"

"Childish lashing-out. It's all forgotten."

Draco looked at Hermione. "And I know I can never make it up to you for...Gerald. I really am sorry. That's what Allegra wanted me to do, and I had to go along. I'm so sorry." He sounded sincere.

Hermione swallowed hard. "I'll try to forget it. I was fond of Gerald. In a way it's almost as if you've killed him."

"You never knew him, Hermione. It almost got to be as though I had a split personality for awhile. I really wasn't Draco anymore when I put on that glamour. I became Gerald."

Harry sighed. "Well, I'm glad you're on our side now. What will you do?"

"Sirius has offered me a job at the Federation. I may take it."

"Good." He met Draco's steady gaze. "We may never be friends, Draco. Hermione may be able to forgive you for having an intimate relationship with her under false pretenses, but I'm not sure I can. You can do whatever you want to me and I won't hold it against you, but you've hurt the woman I love, and that's not something I can easily forgive."

"I understand."

"But I hope we can at least be civil, and perhaps work together. The two of us may know Allegra better than anyone alive. That alone is reason enough for us to find a way to co-exist peaceably."

"Do you think she's still alive, then?"

Harry shook his head. "I have no way of knowing. But...I don't think she's gone for good. That would just be too easy. I've been fighting this same fight since I was eleven years old, and there's only one hard, immutable fact I've learned through all of it."

"What's that?"

"Evil never dies."

**********

Draco and Quinn left, promising they would come to Bailicroft the next day for the planned picnic. Harry and Hermione stood outside the Three Broomsticks and looked up at the stars. "Can we go home now?" Hermione said. "I'm so tired I can hardly stand up."

"Yes, let's go home." They joined hands and walked along the road for a few minutes. Hogsmeade, like Hogwarts, was protected from Apparating, they'd have to walk to the edge of town to go home.

"I'm so glad it's over," she said finally. He didn't reply. "Except...it isn't, is it? Not really."

"It never is. But there are...pauses. Chances to catch one's breath."

"You know, we haven't had any time to be together during our normal lives. It's all been nonstop since that night."

"You think that makes a difference?"

"Of course. It's easy to be in love when people are trying to kill you and everything's life and death. It's not so easy when the daily grind gets you down and there's dishes to be washed and you can't find your favorite book and the boss is getting on your nerves."

"Oh, I think we stand more of a chance than most."

"Why?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Because it's us," he said. "I simply cannot conceive that we could be so close for so long and finally fall in love only to have it fail."

She smiled. "Neither can I."

"So we're stuck with each other."

"Apparently."

They resumed walking. "I can think of worse things."

"I can think of some advantages to having a Mage for a boyfriend."

"There are some advantages to being one," he said. "Like this." He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled hers around his shoulder. "Hang on."

"Wh...wh...whooooaa!" she exclaimed as he rose off the ground. She clutched her arm around his shoulder, her fingers digging into his flesh.

"Take it easy!" he said, smiling. "I won't drop you!" He zoomed skyward. "This is so much more fun than Apparating."

The wind whipped through Hermione's hair and she began to relax...he was holding her up with more than just his arm, she realized. She felt weightless under the moonlit sky. They flew onward towards home, and whatever uncertainty waited for them there.