Harry Potter and the Dangerous Choice

Chapter Ten:

A Letter, A Signal, A Warning

October 31, 1981

Dear Sirius,

Please come round to the house as soon as you get this message. James and I will have to get away from Godric’s Hollow with Harry, and soon. I know all the trouble we went to with the Fidelius charm, but I fear in the end, it was a bad decision to make Peter the secret keeper. You had offered to let us use your family’s manor in Scotland to hide out. I know it’s been empty for years so I think we would be safe there for a few days, while we come up with another plan. If it wasn’t for little Harry I might risk staying here, even after what I saw today, but we have to think about him first. I will not let that monster Voldemort get near my child.

I’m rather frantic right now and not making much sense. Let me explain:

Two weeks ago, before the Fidelius charm was cast, I saw Peter in Diagon Alley. I was there with Harry, doing some shopping. Peter was standing near Gringotts, talking to two men in cloaks. They had their backs toward me and I couldn’t see their faces. Peter spotted me and looked very anxious and pretended he didn’t see me wave. I’m sure he saw me; he looked directly at me. At first I thought, oh, it’s just the way Peter is. He always seemed jumpy around me and I didn’t give it much thought. Then yesterday I spoke with Hestia Jones on the floo network. She was telling about seeing that scum, Lucius Malfoy, strutting about at St. Mungo’s with Minister Fudge, as though he had single handedly built the place. She mentioned that he was wearing a particularly striking cloak of azure blue with a large black tassel hanging from the hood. Well, that was the same cloak worn by one of the men talking to Peter in Diagon Alley.

Then today, James was upstairs rummaging around in the attic. I was in the kitchen working while little Harry was down for a nap. Suddenly I had a bad feeling, rather like that of a ghost passing through you. I looked up and saw Peter standing down the lane just staring at the house.

I don’t think he knew I was there until I pushed the window open and called to him. Peter seemed really edgy. I asked him in for tea, but he made some excuse that he had to go; he said that he was just checking up to see we were all right. He came up to the garden wall and that’s when I saw it. He must have noticed the look I gave him, because he dis-apparated immediately. But, Sirius, I saw it, before he disappeared, I saw it.

I never told you and James that when we did the Fidelius charm, I added a bit of something extra. It’s no secret that I always had my doubts about Peter. I included a charm that would put a boil on Peter’s forehead if he told anyone the location of Godric’s Hollow. Peter had a raging red boil on his forehead when I saw him in the lane.

Perhaps I’m the edgy one and perhaps it seems circumstantial, but when taken together I believe he has betrayed us. Once I explained it all to James, he became infuriated and said he was going to track “the rat” down (his words). He took that vial of Veritaserum that he had off Alastor Moody, and stormed out of the house. Sirius, he looked as dangerous as I’ve ever seen him. He refused to listen to reason. I pray he returns soon, as we have to get away from here as quickly as possible. We can’t apparate with Harry, so I was going to suggest a portkey. I know it’s illegal, but if we do it properly, I think we can throw the Ministry off track. You and James always seem to find a way to do these things. The only other option would be to fly. The floo network would not be safe.

I phoned my sister, Petunia, and asked if she would take Harry for a bit; hide him out in her home. Unfortunately, she thought I insulted her when I used the term ‘muggle’. I don’t know how we can continue to misunderstand each other so. I never intended it as a slight. She hung up on me, and really, I’m not sure I blame her.

I know I shouldn’t write all this down in case the owl is intercepted, but you may be able to come up with some other ideas by the time you arrive here. If we have to vacate before you get here, we’ll send you word as soon as ever we can.

Oh, Sirius, we should have used you as secret keeper, or Dumbledore. I must send this now if you have any chance of getting it in time to meet us. I’m so worried, please come right away.

Your friend,

Lily

Harry laid the letter down. So that’s how it had been…that day. He smoothed the crinkled paper and read it again. The drama of the entire day seemed to crash down on his head as he sat holding the fifteen-year-old parchment. Harry buried his head in his arms as sadness overwhelmed him.

The Room of Requirement was as silent as the empty corridors. Classes were still in progress, but would soon be dismissed, spilling students into the halls and the common room. Harry had needed a private spot and this was the most private room he could think of in which to read the letter.

After considering what his mother had told Sirius, Harry had not the heart to read the other letters folded within the red ribbon. He wanted to feel what his mother had felt in its pure, hard state and he doubted that any other letter in the bundle could be as important as this one. He tucked the bundle back into his robes and started back to Gryffindor tower. When he reached his dormitory room, he shoved the bundle to the bottom of his trunk to be looked through at another time. The letter from his mum he pressed inside his book of wizard photos.

Harry’s mood was melancholy that evening and he avoided Ron and Hermione, opting to go to bed early. He had always felt guilty that he’d saved Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack. Peter’s escape had left Sirius to run from the law. That horrific night in the graveyard, Pettigrew had been the one to kill Cedric. Now the entire incident surrounding the night in October when his parents were betrayed, became more real to Harry through the letter. He began to feel toward Peter, the way he knew Sirius and Remus had, before he had stayed their hands.

The next afternoon Harry ran up the final flight of stairs to the seventh floor on his way to his potions lesson. As he approached the hallway outside the Room of Requirement, he heard voices arguing echoing off the stone walls.

“I simply asked you for a bezoar, Severus, not your opinion as to Harry’s abilities,” snarled Mac.

“You will never turn that boy into a potions maker, MacNessa,” retorted Snape shoving a parchment wrapped packet at Mac. “Teach him if you must, but he is not NEWT material. I’ll not take him back in my class.”

“Did you bring the textbook I requested, Severus?” asked Mac. Snape grunted and handed over a battered looking book. “It’s too bad that a teacher, such as yourself, is unable to discover ways to unlock the talents of all the students who come your way. After all, that’s your job,” MacNessa said with an edge of sarcasm.

“My objection to Potter lies more with the fact that he continues to get special treatment. He did not EARN NEWT level training,” said Snape with disdain. “But he’s receiving it anyway,” he added, under his breath. “He is lazy and he has far too big a head for his own good. Just like his father.”

“I, of course, had the honor and privilege of knowing Harry’s grandfather, and his father as well,” said MacNessa, “and if, as you say, the younger Potter is an equal of the elder, he should have no difficulty mastering potions making. I say that, having taught him the ‘impossible’ skill of Occlumency. Now if you will forgive me, I have a pupil to teach.” With that, Mac turned dismissively away from Snape, who stalked off down the hallway in a huff.

Harry had watched the exchange from the corner of the hall. “You huge git!” Mac said softly before noticing Harry. “Oh! Young Harry! There you are. Let’s get down to work, shall we?” They entered the classroom they had created and Harry deposited his books in the corner.

“First, boy, as a potions maker, I am not what wizards term a ‘purist’. I use whatever methods suit the situation and whatever ingredients are at hand. I learned my potions skills from a rather eccentric wizard, and, if I do say so, I have been able to brew up a few things, in the past, that were quite successful. I am confident that we can get you into a NEWT level class by the end of the school term.” Mac looked down at the textbook and began thumbing through it.

It didn’t sound to Harry as though he would be allowed into Snape’s class next year, even if he could get caught up. Perhaps McGonagall had a plan in mind. However, there was a more pressing question that he wanted to ask. “Umm… Mac, sir,” said Harry. “You said you knew my dad?”

“Why, yes,” said Mac absently. “…of course I knew your grandfather quite…” Mac looked up. He considered Harry for a moment. “Do you know much about your family boy?”

“No, sir, not really,” said Harry.

“I see,” said Mac flatly. “Keen to get you up to killer status aren’t they, but not very forthcoming about your background. Makes me bloody angry, really!”

Harry was surprised by that comment. Before he had time to decide what Mac meant by it or if somehow he knew the prophesy, Mac made an interesting proposal.

“Harry, my boy,” began Mac, “I think we should have a bit of a private talk some time soon. We might have dinner together some night, just the two of us. I can tell you some things about your dad and your grand dad. Also… I would also like to warn you….well…. we can cover that later.” Mac made a show of checking the ingredient jars on the shelf. “Right now, let’s concentrate on the potion we need to make while we have this lovely room all to our selves.”

Harry felt the pain of the last day melt slightly. Maybe Mac could tell him something about his parents. He was eager for details, and whatever Mac wanted to warn him about couldn’t be worse than the sword already hanging over his head. Harry picked up his book and began to read the ingredients for a bone-mending potion.

The evening of Halloween arrived. The day had been cool and calm and the night promised to be frosty. The students were excited about the approaching Halloween feast. Harry was reminded that it was this day fifteen years before that his parents had lost their lives to Voldemort. It was also the day he had temporarily sent Voldemort into exile. The thought kept coming to him during his classes and clouded the festive mood that enveloped the castle. Hagrid was hauling huge pumpkins into the Great Hall, and Professor Flitwick was charming them into jack-o-lanterns. Harry stood lost in thought in the entrance hall looking in as the Great Hall was being prepared for the festivities. Harry had nearly decided to skip the feast.

“What’s the matter mate?” asked Ron, who had just caught up with Harry.

“Oh, it’s nothing…Perhaps I’m just tired,” said Harry.

“You should catch a quick nap before the feast,” suggested Ron.

“Maybe I will,” said Harry vaguely.

Harry climbed the steps to the dormitory as though he was dragging a huge weight. He dropped his books and sunk down on his bed, drawing the red velvet curtains closed. He quickly drifted off to sleep.

Harry was sitting in a brightly lit kitchen. His mother was busily preparing breakfast and his father was reading The Quibbler and laughing. Sirius was laying on a rug at Harry’s feet in the form of Snuffles the dog. Harry’s mum came to the table and gave him a plate of bacon and eggs.

“Sirius would like bacon, too, I think,” said James happily.

“Would you Sirius?” Lily asked. Sirius wagged his tail and licked his lips.

Lily smiled at Harry and brushed her hand through his hair. Then she turned and said, “Shall we ask Peter round for dinner tonight, James?”

Harry sat straight up, with a start, shaking off the dream. He parted the curtains and swung his feet down to the floor. He still felt the groggy edge of sleep when the door opened and Ron came in.

“Good, you’re up just in time,” he said cheerily.

“In time for what?” asked Harry, still a bit disoriented.

“The feast, of course! Let’s get going then.”

Harry could think of no good excuse so he got up and followed Ron down to the Great Hall, now full of Halloween merriment. Harry joined the other Gryffindors and tried to join in the fun.

The day of the Quidditch match was approaching. The Daily Prophet had mentioned the open invitation, to come to Hogwarts for the match, several times. It seemed to cause quite a stir among the professors with each new reminder. They apparently thought it a very bad idea and a dangerous one as well. Hermione obviously agreed with the opinion of the professors. She mentioned several times how unsafe it would be to let the wizarding public onto the school grounds.

Harry and Ron were more concerned about the match itself. They wanted to make a good showing. Ron was driving the team hard, in anticipation. Ginny and Natalie quickly developed a rhythm, and were working to encourage Colin to be a bit bolder shot. Ron, Harry and Ginny took turns working with Colin after practice to improve his shooting.

On the Thursday night before the match, practice broke up rather early. Harry felt like flying a bit longer and stayed with Colin and Ginny for some extra practice. The pitch was getting dark when Harry landed next to Colin. “Good job, Colin! I’d say you’re ready for the match. Just remember to take that extra second to aim before trying to score. If you aren’t sure, just wait up for Ginny and pass off to her. Control of the Quaffle is the main thing.”

“Alright then, Harry!” said Colin enthusiastically. He put his broom over his shoulder and walked out of the stadium, smiling.

Ginny touched down a moment later next to Harry, having retrieved the practice balls. Harry helped her replace them in the case. They carried the box to the equipment room and stored it away.

As they headed back toward the castle, Harry and Ginny discussed the up coming match. They were both feeling optimistic about the probable outcome. “I think we’ll beat them easily this year,” speculated Harry. Ginny told of seeing the Slytherins practicing, and commented on their uninspired passing game. Then suddenly, Ginny yelled, “Race you to the castle,” and she took off running. Harry raced after her, catching and passing her, about fifty yards from the front entrance. As he passed her, she purposely tripped him up. He grabbed her ankle as he fell, causing her to fall with him. They laughed as they scrambled back to their feet and continued running to the castle.

They lowered their voices as they climbed the stairs in the entrance hall, still chatting about the up coming match. “I’ll handle Draco,” Harry was saying. “He always hangs right near me during a match. I’m worried about Slytherin’s beaters trying to unseat Colin from his broom. He’s not very big, after all.”

“Andrew and Jack played against them last year, so they know what to expect. I think they’ll be able to handle those two brutes,” speculated Ginny. “Natalie can hold her own…she’s used to playing with boys. It’s Montague that I hate playing against. Just true nastiness, that one.”

As they made their way back to Gryffindor tower Harry stuck a hand into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of gum. He offered one to Ginny, who took it as she talked. Harry unwrapped his and then stopped dead, dropping the gum on the floor. He smoothed the wrapper he was holding in his hand, as realization dawned upon him. Harry’s mind raced as the pieces suddenly came together. He knew he had to see Dumbledore immediately. Without another word, he turned and sprinted off toward the headmaster’s office.

”Hey! Where are you going?” yelled Ginny in confusion.

How come no one else saw this, he thought. Maybe I’m all wrong. Just…don’t let me be too late! Harry repeated over and over to himself as he ran. He reached the stone griffin, spoke the password, and rode the stairs to the headmaster’s office. He knocked hard on the door and it immediately swung open. Harry rushed in, banging up against Professor Dumbledore’s desk. Breathlessly he managed, “St Mungo’s….Neville’s mom…she’s trying to tell us something.”

Dumbledore stared hard at Harry. “Sit, Harry,” he said. “Drink this,” and a glass of water materialized. Harry tried to control his breathing until it came more evenly, but he waved off the water.

“You don’t understand, sir. I think this means something…. and I forgot about it.” Harry held out the gum wrapper to Dumbledore. It was a Droobles Best Blowing Gum wrapper. Dumbledore took it with a sideways glance at Harry.

“Why do you think this is significant?” asked Dumbledore slowly.

Harry explained his encounter with Alice Longbottom at St. Mungo’s, the day he visited Aunt Petunia and how she had shoved a similar wrapper into his hand. He told how the year before, he had seen Mrs. Longbottom give a Droobles wrapper to Neville. “And I remembered his gran saying that his mum had given him loads of them.”

“Alice Longbottom gave you this.” It was more a statement than a question, as Dumbledore rubbed the wrapper between his fingers. Harry nodded, although Dumbledore was not looking at him and seemed lost in thought.

“And…ummm… Professor? I remember you stopped in front of that sweets store in Diagon Alley. You said something… I think… about a signal.” This last part had just come to Harry and now it left him feeling that he definitely had it right.

Dumbledore extracted a small, square mirror from his robes, said “Kingsley Shacklebolt” and waited a moment. Then he said “Kingsley, contact the Order members scheduled to be on duty tonight. No, Remus will not be up to it tonight, I fear. We have to go into St. Mungo’s and we cannot let anyone see us do this, so, make the appropriate arrangements. I know it’s risky. I’ll meet you at headquarters in an hour and explain what’s happened.”

He pocketed the mirror. “Harry you did well to come to me with this. I wish I had known about the gum wrappers sooner. It was an old, silent, code for danger that the Order used to use. It could be easily passed to someone, or dropped on purpose, without attracting notice. It means that Alice Longbottom is trying to get our attention. If she can come back to us, we must try to save her.”

Dumbledore seemed uneasy as he walked Harry to the door. “We’ll sort this all out immediately. Please keep this information secret.” He paused, “And Harry, you have done the Order a great service today.”

Harry left the office feeling glad that he’d been able to help but also worried about the rescue mission. Why did they need to break into St. Mungos? Couldn’t they simply have Mrs. Longbottom released to her family?

Very late that evening, Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed. The dormitory was dark and the other two occupants were asleep. Harry felt badly that he knew about a raid to rescue Neville mum, but that he couldn’t say anything. He glanced over at Neville’s sleeping form in the darkened room. Just then, Harry noticed some movement out on the lawn and peered out the window to see what was happening. The full moon shone brightly, shimmering on the grass. A lone thestral carriage was pulling up to the castle. Harry had a good idea what it meant. He went quickly to his trunk and pulled out the invisibility cloak, motioning Ron out on to the stairway and shushing his question.

Once they were clear of the dormitory room, Harry explained in a whisper what he had told Dumbledore about the wrapper, and his response. Ron listened opened mouthed. “I think they’re coming in now...wanna go see?”

“Let’s go!” said Ron without a moment’s hesitation.

In Harry’s enthusiasm, he had forgotten Dumbledore’s warning not to tell anyone. He felt a momentary pang of guilt as he thought again of Neville snoring in the dormitory room. Well, it was too late, he had told Ron, and they were on their way toward the portrait hole.

With the cloak in place, they snuck to the corner of a corridor where they could see the door to the hospital wing. Sounds filtered up from the lower floor and soon a procession came into view. Dumbledore led the way, with two stretchers being levitated behind. Kingsley, Moody and Tonks followed. Kingsley was holding his right arm. Madam Pomfrey opened the door, raising a candle to light their way as they swept inside. Dumbledore hung back as they all filed silently in. Once the group was through the door, he looked down the hall directly at Harry and Ron. He smiled and shook his head slightly, before following the others inside.

The next morning, Harry watched Neville closely. He was sure that no one had told Neville about his mum yet. Harry and Ron speculated that the second stretcher had carried Neville’s dad. As breakfast progressed, owls began swooping into the Great Hall with the normal messages and packages.

A school owl dropped a note into Neville’s lap, and Ron elbowed Harry, nodding in that direction. Neville looked somewhat confused as he stuffed the note he had just read, into his bag. He rose quietly and left the room with his breakfast half finished. When Neville did not appear at the start of class, Harry and Ron filled Hermione in on what they had seen the previous night.

“Harry, that’s brilliant that you figured it out,” said Hermione, obviously impressed.

Defense Against the Dark Arts broke for lunch and Neville had not shown up. It was too bad to, since Professor Sprout and Mac had teamed up to give a very good lesson on common plants that could be used in an emergency for medicinal purposes or for certain ward spells. Harry thought Neville would certainly have enjoyed the lecture.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were standing together in the hallway, waiting for the tables to be set up for lunch as Neville walked slowly down the stairs with a faraway look on his face. He accidentally bumped into Draco Malfoy as he crossed the corridor.

“Watch it, Longbottom!” growled Draco. Crabbe and Goyle closed in on Neville and pushed him toward the wall.

“Leave me alone!” said Neville, with more bravado than Harry thought he really felt, by the look on his face.

“How can a pure blood like you be so pathetic, Long Drawers?” taunted Draco, stabbing a finger into Neville’s chest.

“Back off, Malfoy!” shouted Harry as he pushed Crabbe out of his way and stepped up, nose to nose with Draco.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Potter.”

“Well pretend you were then!” said Harry pulling his wand.

“Let’s get out of here… this lot isn’t worth it,” said Draco to his henchmen, and they stalked off down the hall.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I could’ve handled him, but my mind was on something else,” said Neville, his face reddening.

“It’s ok Neville, I rather enjoyed it, really,” laughed Harry.

“Harry… emm… can we talk a moment?”

“Sure, Neville.”

Neville walked toward an open spot down the hall, away from the other students. “They got my mum out…of St. Mungo’s, that is. Dumbledore told me it was because of you. I wanted to thank you.”

“It’s ok Neville, I was just glad to have put it together.” Harry was sorry he had said that as soon as it was out, and he could see a flash of pain cross Neville’s face.

“Yeah, I never knew what those wrappers meant,” said Neville uncomfortably. “I should have figured it out. I mean, she was trying to tell me…”

“I don’t think you could have,” Harry said trying his best to be supportive. “I only got it because of something Dumbledore said to me…once.”

“Really? Well, thanks Harry. What can I do to re-pay you?”

This was uncomfortable. Harry did not want repaying, so he changed the subject. “So, how is your mum?”

“Oh, she’s very weak, but they were able to lift her curse. I guess she can go home in a week or so. She’ll have to stay hidden though… for now. She’d really like to meet you. Would you come back with me after class is over?” asked Neville expectantly. “She asked after you.”

“Sure, Neville, if it’s ok,” said Harry.

Once their afternoon class was over, Harry and Neville walked as inconspicuously as possible to the hospital wing. Once inside, Neville went down the hall that Ron and Harry had used the night they snuck in to see Percy. Neville stopped at a different door and knocked softly. The door was opened by Professor Dumbledore. The small room was literally packed with people. There was Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Neville’s grandmother, wearing the vulture hat that Harry remembered. Conversation stopped as all eyes turned to Neville and Harry.

Lying in a bed, looking pale, but with a smile on her face was Alice Longbottom. Neville ignored the rest of the crowd of people and immediately went to his mother’s side and hugged her. Her eyes, no longer vacant, showed obvious happiness as she kissed her son.

“Mum, I’ve brought Harry,” said Neville proudly.

Alice raised herself up on her elbow and Harry stepped forward, his face turning red. She motioned him to take the chair positioned next to her bed. As he sat down and leaned toward her, she ran a white, thin hand over his forehead and down his cheek. “Thank you Harry. Your parents were wonderful people. You do them credit, putting this all together, and I thank you for rescuing me.”

Just then, Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room and shooed them all out, allowing only Neville to remain. Neville’s grandmother put a hand on Harry’s shoulder as they stepped into the hall. “Could I have a word with you, Harry?” she asked.

“Ummm…Sure” said Harry. Neville’s gran was a bit scary and not a person one would ever say ‘no’ to.

“Dumbledore, may we adjourn to your office?” she asked regally.

“Why certainly, Mrs. Longbottom, I would be grateful if you would,” Dumbledore said, bowing slightly.

He led the way to his office, ahead of Mrs. Longbottom, with Harry bringing up the rear. Dumbledore conjured up three comfortable chairs with printed chintz covers and they all sat down. Mrs. Longbottom leaned on her umbrella, and looked Harry in the eye with an intense stare. “You, boy, have saved my daughter-in-law, whom we all thought lost forever, and you have helped my grandson find his inner courage. For these things I am eternally in your debt.” The old woman straightened up. “The Longbottom's do not forget a debt owed Mr. Potter. I would like to give you an appropriate reward. What shall it be?”

Harry was quite surprised by this offer. He had no idea what to say. “Ummm…well, thank you mam. But…ummm…I don’t really want you to…I mean I didn’t do it to get a reward or anything”

Dumbledore saved him by clearing his throat and speaking. “Mrs. Longbottom, I fear you have caught young Harry here quite off guard with your question. Knowing the kind of person he is, I’m sure that seeing Neville and his mother reunited is reward enough.”

Harry nodded vigorously and gratefully at this.

“None the less Dumbledore, Harry, I really wish to do something to express the family’s gratitude. I leave it to you Dumbledore to propose something appropriate. I believe you are one of Harry’s guardians.”

“Just so,” answered Dumbledore, bowing his head slightly.

Mrs. Longbottom rose from her chair. Harry and Dumbledore stood too. She thanked Dumbledore for his hospitality, shook Harry’s hand, thanking him again, and then she left. Dumbledore beckoned Harry to sit down. “Harry, I’m guessing you have some questions, and given your involvement, you are entitled to some answers.”

“Yes sir,” began Harry, “I was wondering several things...”

“Allow me to explain…perhaps I will answer all your questions,” said Dumbledore.

“Shortly after your parents were killed by Voldemort, the Longbottom’s were attacked. This, I believe, you knew. The death eaters were frantic at that time. They didn’t know what had happened to their master and thought the Ministry aurors did know. They attacked Neville’s home, and his father and mother were put into St. Mungo’s, having been tortured into a stupor by the Cruciatus Curse. Neville’s father is quite gone. He will never recover. His mother, however, has been ambulatory for many years. The healers at St. Mungo’s, in charge of her care, continued to report that she was a hopeless case.”

“According to Alice, after several months, she began to realize where she was. She was unable to talk or to move very much at first. She thinks that as she began to try to communicate with her care givers, someone began to administer a very strong Befuddlement charm. Poppy Pomfrey was quite surprised at its strength and at Alice’s will to fight it off all these years. Apparently, she was able to gain a certain amount of control occasionally, and she kept sending the only signal she could remember, in the form of the gum wrappers. She had no real hope, just kept single-mindedly finding the wrappers and handing them to Neville and anyone else who would take them. She says that occasionally she had flashes of clarity, but they were brief. Mostly she struggled to focus. She says that the day she gave you the wrapper, she had recognized your scar. She gave you a wrapper, knowing you would not be a supporter of the dark lord.”

Harry stared at the floor and nodded as he listened. “So, will she…I mean, is she alright then?”

“She will be rather frail for a long time, but in the end, she should recover fully,” responded Dumbledore. “Alice Longbottom and her husband Frank were excellent aurors and the members of the Order are very heartened that she has been brought back.”

“I’m afraid that Mrs. Longbottom will insist upon a reward of some type. Can you think of anything you’d like, Harry?”

Harry felt he had everything he needed, including an excellent racing broom. He didn’t really want anything for himself. Then something occurred to him, which seemed unlikely, but it was all he could think of. “Professor, I’d really like it if Buckbeak could be free to come back to Hogwarts forest. I suppose that’s rather hard to do, with his death sentence and all.”

Dumbledore laughed. “Yes, I suppose we should get him out of that fourth floor room in Grimmauld Place.” Dumbledore thought a moment then said, “Perhaps, instead of such a specific request, Mrs. Longbottom could petition the Ministry for a section of the forest to be designated as a hippogriff preserve with no intrusion by the Ministry. We could then move Buckbeak and he would be safe. Actually that is the type thing Mrs. Longbottom loves to do. She loves a cause. I’ll let her know you have a great fondness for hippogriffs and want to see them protected. She is quite forceful, and I dare say, the Ministry will acquiesce.” Dumbledore paused, “Yes, I believe that would be a suitable request. I’ll communicate it to her, if you like.”

Harry was only too happy to agree. Thinking over the day, he had one other question for the headmaster. “Sir, can I ask how Percy is doing? We haven’t heard anything about him.”

“Ahh, Percy. This is a difficult case. We have tried any number of things to bring him round. We’ve had to lock him in because he tried to leave the grounds in his nightshirt the second night he was here. He is not acting on his own volition, of this, we are sure. Dark magic is a perilous and twisted thing. We cannot seem to break whatever curse has been laid on him. We believe it is a form of the Imperius curse. Normally that wears off over time, after lack of contact with the one applying the curse,” said Dumbledore wearily. “I’m afraid I can tell you no more than that.”

Harry thanked Dumbledore and left the office, heading for dinner in the Great Hall. At least he could tell Ron and Ginny what he had learned about Percy. Perhaps Buckbeak would soon be able to come back to the forest and to Hagrid.

On Saturday morning, Harry looked out the window from Gryffindor tower toward the front gate. There was a bustle of activity as thestral drawn carriages arrived from Hogsmeade station and a steady stream of witches and wizards hiked in, having apparated outside the school grounds. There were vendors with interesting looking carts who had set up along the path to the Quidditch pitch and were trying to entice the passersby to make a purchase.

A small knot was forming in Harry’s stomach. He was certain he would feel fine once he was on his broom and in the air, but right now, he was feeling an extra level of panic at the coming match. Ron didn’t look much better. He was tying and re-tying his right trainer, until Harry asked him if he needed help. Ron looked up in rather a fog and rose to follow Harry down to the common room.

The team had agreed to assemble in Gryffindor tower and walk down to the pitch together. However, they had not banked on the enthusiasm of their fellow Gryffindors, who were waiting for their team, and had determined to walk them down as a group. Harry knew Ron had been hoping for a final discussion of strategy, but that went by the way in the face of a rousing cheer when they appeared on the stairs.

Harry felt his face flush a bit and he saw Ron form a weak and rather sick smile. Ginny and Natalie were taking the attention in stride and were leading some organized cheering, while Andrew, Jack and Colin stood looking as embarrassed as Harry felt.

“Ron, the sooner we get down to the pitch, the sooner we leave this lot behind. We can have a meeting in the changing area.

“Right, said Ron purposefully. Ron signaled the rest of the team and they followed their captain out the portrait hole and down to the front door. The Gryffindors had all followed in a noisy parade. They picked up smaller groups of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as they went. Harry was pleased for the support of the other houses, which he knew could turn later in the year, as competition intensified for the House Cup.

The sky was cloudy and the wind was strong, but Harry knew the team would perform well even in the windy conditions. Near the stadium, the noisy pack of Gryffindors, angled toward the entrance to the student bleachers, shouting more encouragement to the team as they went.

Ginny who was walking near Harry, nudged him, “Look, there’s Bagman.” Sure enough, Ludo Bagman was holding court near the general field entrance. He was laughing loudly and patting his would-be constituents on the back. That was mixed in with lots of hand shaking. He seemed to have several young clerks with him who were handing out printed sheets to everyone passing through the gate.

Just then, Harry noticed Remus. He was leaning against the wall outside the team entrance with his arms crossed, and seemingly enjoying the show. Harry broke away from the pack and headed in his direction. Remus smiled and straightened up. “Harry, how are you?” he asked.

“Great, and you?”

“I’m fine,” said Remus, although he looked worn out and tired. “I hope you’re planning to win today, because I’ve a bet with Snape,” said Remus smiling.

“Well, I’d better get the snitch right away and no fooling around then!” said Harry.

Remus laughed and glanced down toward the crowd filing through the gates. “Ludo is in fine form, I see.”

“We noticed,” said Harry.

“We’re worried he could become Minister of Magic,” said Remus quietly. “Frankly, we have our doubts about his real loyalty.” Remus looked at Harry significantly.

“You mean….So the Order is worried?” asked Harry trying to put it all together.

Remus nodded imperceptibly. “We have aurors all round the station at Hogsmeade, in case of trouble, but so far, so good.” More loudly, he said, “Make me some gold, today Harry!” and he strolled off to find a seat.

Harry changed quickly, to catch up with the team who were assembling for a last minute pep talk. Ron twisted the handle of his broom nervously as he faced the Gryffindor team. “Emmm….well you’ve done a great job in practice and we’ve got two new team members who are really top drawer. Remember not to pass unless you have a clear shot. Let’s stay away from the fancy stuff, because I think we can beat Slytherin just playing a good solid game. No showboating just because there’s a crowd. Pretend it’s just another game. So…well, I guess that’s all.” Harry gave Ron a discreet ‘thumbs up’ and with a certain amount of relief, Ron turned and led the team toward the field.

Madam Hooch was positioned in the middle of the pitch ready to start play. As they stepped on to the field, loud cheers went up. Harry thought the noise level was at least four times normal. He scanned the stands. They were full of rowdy, boisterous students who were ready to burn off some school stress. There were hundreds of waving colored pennants held by students, parents and other assorted visitors. As always, the houses were generally sitting together in groups in the stands. Gryffindors were on the south side of the field and near the Slytherin goal, opposite Hufflepuff. Slytherin was also on the south side of the field near the Gryffindor goal, opposite Ravenclaw. So arrayed, it looked like masses of waving color. The Slytherins approached the center of the field to screams of pleasure by the Slytherin crowd.

Gryffindor scored two easy goals in the first three minutes. Slytherin almost got one past Ron, but he saved it at the last moment. Slytherin did not seem at their best and were flying a rather lack luster game. After a few initial clumsy passes, Colin got his chance. He went in toward the goal, Quaffle tucked under his arm. He looked determined as he came in close, veered right, and down, and made a goal. The Gryffindor goal made the score thirty to zero.

Harry rose up-wards for a better view of the pitch, and noticed that the Slytherins were all massed near the Gryffindor goal. It was a strange tactic, unless they thought it a good way to block any future shot. It left Ron all alone on the opposite end of the field. Harry glanced in that direction. Ron was watching the play intently. Still, Gryffindor was scoring. Harry was trying to spot where the Quaffle was in play, when he spotted the familiar glint of gold close to the ground near the Hufflepuff cheering section. Draco was still at the far end of the field.

Harry aimed his broom down and began to dive toward the snitch. The game would be theirs easily, he thought. Harry’s fingers closed on the snitch and he immediately forced his Firebolt to lift up and turn toward the center of the pitch. The cheering had begun as he raised the glittering gold ball over his head. At that instant, a sharp stabbing pain shot through Harry’s scar. Then came the explosion.

The sound of it seemed to rock the ground, and the blast made Harry cartwheel in the air. He dropped the snitch using both hands to try to re-gain control of his broom as he felt himself plummeting toward the ground. The world spun for a moment, and then he was miraculously back upright and about five feet off the ground.

Evil looking, black smoke was roiling around the Hufflepuff section. The sickly green image of the Dark Mark glittered above the chaos. Painful screams were permeating the air. People were running toward the disaster. Dumbledore was already half way across the pitch running toward the mayhem. Harry’s teammates began to converge at center field. Just then, Harry noticed movement out past the Quidditch stadium. He instinctively rose up in the air for a better look. There were seven black robed forms, running toward the tree line of the forest. Death-Eaters, he thought angrily, drawing his wand. He shouted for Ron and aimed his broom toward the invaders, speeding in their direction. Harry blocked out the hysterical screams and the cry’s from the stadium as he chased his prey.

Harry hoped Ron was following since he was certain he couldn’t handle the seven of them alone, but if he could just catch one. The front two runners were nearly under the tress. Harry quickly decided he should go after the third man, and hope Ron could get another. “Harry!” he heard Ron shout, as he streaked toward the men who had to be the culprits behind the explosion. The third man looked over his shoulder, and seeing Harry speeding toward him, picked up his pace, urging his fellows to run.

Without much time to think, Harry gritted his teeth and dove at the cloaked runner. He drilled the man in the back as he slammed into him. Harry rolled across the ground and sprung up leveling his wand at the prone black shape. The man was not moving. A shot of red light struck the ground next to Harry’s feet and he immediately raised his wand and shouted “Stupefy” at the next man rushing in his direction.

His aim was off and the fourth man continued running. Harry cursed, anger and adrenaline pumping through him. The masked man shot another spell at Harry, knocking him backwards and leaving him gasping on the ground. Before the man could produce another curse, Harry shouted “Expelliarmus” disarming him. The man continued to run, and although pain shot down his side, Harry mounted his broom and flew after the man. Harry got off a stunner taking the cloaked wizard down.

He glanced up and was surprised to see not only Ron, but also Ginny, followed by Andrew and Jack. Ron kicked the fifth wizard in the head as he flew past, sending him to the ground. Then he turned back toward the sixth man. Ginny shot a spell at the last man, who had gotten one off in her direction. She dipped out of the way just in time. She yelled “Stupefy” and that man was also subdued.

Ron had grabbed the hood of the sixth man’s cloak, spinning him around. As he fell to the ground, Kirke and Sloper leapt off their brooms and attacked the man with their bats. Harry yelled “Expelliarmus” at the man, who might try to fight off the pair of over eager beaters, with his wand. Ron, Ginny and Harry, as if of one mind, began binding the downed men with magical ropes, making sure they had been relieved of their wands.

Ginny shouted over, “Got em, the slime!”

“Not all of them though,” said Harry still holding his side in pain. Two of the cloaked figures had reached the forest before Harry could catch them. “Ginny, watch these for me!” yelled Harry, who wanted to at least look for the two who had escaped. Ginny nodded as she crossed her arms, wand in hand. Harry rose into the air and flew straight toward the forest where the men had disappeared. He rose and circled over the trees hoping to catch some movement.

Harry was angry with himself for not being able to catch the other two masked wizards. The line of trees was dense and he could not see down through the bright red and gold leaves to the ground below. Slowing up and flying low, he hoped to catch some sound to point him in the right direction. Then there was a rustling noise along the tree line. Harry recognized the forms of centaurs who emerged from the dense underbrush. They heaved a black form out into the lawn and then turned and blended back into the forest. Harry quickly flew over to the black mass. The figure was un-conscientious or dead; Harry was unsure. Never the less he magicked the man’s wand into his hand and snapped it in half. Then he tied the man up, just in case.

From across the lawn, Harry saw Hagrid who was charging toward them like an angry rhinoceros. Harry flew back to the rest of the group, now spread out in a large circle around their captives. Colin had come up at some point and was also standing guard but looking quite scared.

Harry dropped back down. “Everyone OK?” he asked.

“Fine, just a bump,” said Ron, rubbing his arm where his robe had ripped.

“More exciting than Quidditch,” said Ginny sarcastically.

Harry decided he should fly back to the stadium and see what they should be doing to help and what to do with the masked wizards. “I’d better go and see Dumbledore. Stay in place, everyone, and keep out of their reach,” warned Harry. “Hagrid’s coming and he’ll help.”

“Couldn’t we just have a little Avada Kedavra practice first?” snarled Ron.

“Wait, Harry, you’re bleeding…your head!” said Ginny. Harry touched his head and felt a long scratch he must have gotten when he rolled off his broom. There was blood on his face.

“I’m fine,” he told Ginny. “Just watch yourselves.” Harry flew off toward the wreckage. In his haste to catch the perpetrators, he had not thought about how extensive the damage was.

He urged his Firebolt back toward the wreckage. On the outside of the stadium, near the damage, scrawled in large letters, Harry could read ‘All Enemies of the Dark Lord Will Perish’. The Hufflepuff bleacher section had literally been destroyed. The victims were covered in black soot. Many of the injured were laid out on the field. The uninjured students were moving stretchers, conjured by Professor Dumbledore, back toward the school. Some people were lying deadly still in the debris. Dumbledore was going from body to body, and the other teachers were sorting out the mildly wounded from the severely wounded. Madam Pomfrey was hurrying down the lawn with a medical bag and a wand. Harry saw Professor McGonagall and Flitwick levitating some of the remains so that those underneath could be extricated. Harry landed and approached Dumbledore.

Dumbledore spared no words and did not even look up. “Harry, please go to the castle and send an Owl. Address the note to Kingsley. Tell him to get some Aurors here.”

“Right” said Harry as he mounted his broom. “Sir, are those people…are they dead?”

“Yes, Harry they are.” Then Dumbledore turned, “Did you catch anyone?”

“All but one, sir,” responded Harry.

“Good!” Dumbledore responded, his eyes full of fire. Harry zoomed off to the owlry. He was able to fly right into the owlry tower owing to its open windows. Hedwig fluttered down immediately and perched near Harry giving him a quizzical look. He grabbed a piece of parchment from a small stack lying on an old scratched and chipped table that stood against one wall. There was an old bent quill there also. Harry was glad of it because he had forgotten that he needed a quill and paper.

As he picked up the quill to write the note, he realized he was shaking. Harry took a deep breathe to try to expel some of the rage he felt. He steadied his hand on the desk and jotted the note; Dear Kingsley, there has been an attack on the Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore wants you to come and bring Aurors. Regards, Harry Potter.

Harry quickly attached the note to Hedwig’s leg and she took off into the sky. The he mounted his broom and headed back toward the Quidditch field. He could see stretchers, with injured people, moving in a line toward the school, with other ambulatory cases at their sides.

Harry decided that he should go and wait with the captured Death Eaters. He sped back to where Hagrid and the others had formed a circle around the disabled wizards. Now that the crisis had passed, he was curious to see whom they had captured. Ginny, Ron and the rest were stiffly on guard when he touched down. Hagrid was cursing loudly at the masked wizards, offering to remove any number of body parts if they dared move or breathe.

“Good work, that, Harry,” said Hagrid with fury in his voice, gesturing toward the captives.

“I’ve owled Kingsley,” Harry told Hagrid.

They did not have a long wait as a group of ten wizards appeared through the trees, wands drawn. Harry nodded to Mordoc Brogan whom he recognized from his last night on Privet Drive. The group looked in amazement at Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team as Ron quickly recounted the explosion and capture. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the only one who did not appear surprised. He came forward and shook their hands.

Kingsley quickly sent seven of the aurors to assist Dumbledore, surmising that the remaining two along with Hagrid could handle transporting the Death Eaters back to London. Kingsley went off to determine what was needed in terms of medical help, so he could get medi-wizards on site as soon as possible.

The aurors took control of the cloaked men. The first thing they did was to remove the masks from the faces of the men. There was Lucius Malfoy, who must have been part of the group that had escaped when the dementors abandoned Azkaban. He refused to look at the Gryffindors or the aurors. Harry also recognized Macnair and Goyle, but none of the rest.

As the team watched, Ron moved to Harry’s side. “I guess Theodore Nott was partly right about the attacks,” he whispered.

“Ya, but too bad he got the location wrong,” said Harry. “Still there were some aurors nearby, and that was something.”

It was then that a thought occurred to Harry. He motioned to Ginny who was standing nearby and to Ron, “I think the Slytherins knew the attack was coming. Just before it happened, the whole team was down by our goal, even Malfoy. I had no trouble getting the snitch, because he wasn’t even in the area.”

“Harry, do you really think so?” asked Ginny.

“Come to think of it, that was rather strange,” said Ron. “Couldn’t understand why they were all down there at once. Thought it was a play or something.”

“I’ll bet they were warned to stay clear,” speculated Harry crossly.

Suddenly Arthur Weasley and Remus came running up. Arthur looked frantic and only calmed down once he determined that Ginny and Ron were ok. Remus asked Harry how he was, inspecting Harry’s bloody head. “We’ve been looking for you all since the explosion. We couldn’t tell if you were caught in it, with the heavy smoke,” explained Remus.

“It’s just a scratch,” said Harry. Still he was grateful that Remus was concerned. “Sorry, you were worried. I saw this lot running from the pitch right after the explosion so we chased them down. We lost two of them, but the centaurs caught that one over there.”

“Let’s get you all back to your common room and allow the aurors to sort out this scum,” Arthur Weasley said herding the Gryffindor team together.

Kingsley, who was near at hand, chuckled. “Perhaps, Arthur, we should just let Harry and his troops sort them out. They’ve done a damned fine job without any help from us. Voldemort had better be worried with this bunch coming up.” Arthur did not relax, however, until Ron, Ginny, Harry and the rest were safely returned to Gryffindor tower.

The Gryffindors were subdued as they slouched in chairs and around the floor in the common room waiting for word about the injured and the dead. Harry and Ron were glad to find Hermione safe and sitting near the fire. They joined her, and Harry whispered to her, explaining what had happened with the Death Eaters as well as their speculation that the Slytherins knew about the attack before hand. “After this, I wonder how we’ll get people to say Voldemort’s name?” asked Hermione. Harry glanced across the room to the poster Hermione had made. He wondered too.

At first, the students exchanged stories of what they saw or heard. It seemed that total panic had broken out in the wake of the explosion. Although the professors rushed to organize the fans to exit the stadium in an orderly fashion, it was more or less a free–for-all. Several students and visitors were hurt as people pushed their way out on to the lawn.

Some parents had immediately taken their students and left the grounds without even allowing them to retrieve their things. Other parents had formed a group and demanded to speak to Dumbledore. McGonagall had railed against them, telling them they would have to wait until the dead and wounded were sorted out, and that they were being quite unreasonable to expect anything more.

Ludo Bagman had apparently worked his way through the various groups outside the stadium expressing sympathy and outrage depending on the tenor of the group.

Some visitors had pitched right in and helped the professors. The Gryffindors were the closest to the explosion and it seemed most of them had jumped over the front railings to help. After a while, Dumbledore had sent them off with litters of wounded people to the hospital wing. Once there, they had been sent back to their common room. After the explosion, the Slytherins had immediately left the area. None of them had been seen.

Ron retold the capture of the Death Eaters to rapt silence. The Gryffindors had seen Harry and the rest of the team streak off but then had not seen what happened outside of the stadium. Harry just wanted to know how many had died but no one seemed to have any idea. The lowest number reported was five, but Dean, who had pulled several people alive and dead from under the rubble, estimated something nearer twenty.

Soon there was nothing left to say and all they could do was to wait.