Harry Potter and the Dangerous Choice

Chapter 13

Forces of Nature

The next morning Harry was roused by Dobby. "Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Lupin is down the stairs, waiting." The sky was just lightening and Harry was rather annoyed to be awoken so early. He dressed haphazardly and shuffled down to the front hall. Dumbledore, who was wearing a dark blue cloak adorned with golden stars, was writing on a piece of parchment, while Remus leaned against the wall, stifling a yawn.

"What's going on," asked Harry, fingering his, still swollen, lip.

"We need to finish our conversation of last night," said Dumbledore. "We thought we'd find a location more conducive to our discussion. It is also an opportunity for you to practice apparition. I don't believe you have had the chance to apparate to an unknown location yet?"

"No sir, I haven't," said Harry warming to the idea a bit more.

"Arthur had other business today, so it will just be the three of us, if that suits you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sure, fine" Harry nodded. After a pause, he added, "I'd just like to know if you have a plan....or something."

"That is one of the things we need to discuss. There is a wizard library here in London where many unique spell books are kept. It is actually hidden within an old muggle library. Quite ingenious, really. It contains private study rooms. I have written the location down on this paper." Dumbledore handed the scrap of parchment to Harry. He scanned it... One Lambeth Road, London. Harry took the cloak Remus handed him and put it on.

"When we apparate, you will concentrate on this address, and you will need to look out where you land." Dumbledore looked over the rim of his glasses at Harry. "Remus will go first. Look for him before appearing. I will follow you."

"Ok," said Harry, rereading the paper a bit apprehensively.

Remus wrapped his own shabby cloak around himself and disapparated with a pop. Harry concentrated and then disapparated. The world rushed by in a white blur. He soon saw his goal, and Remus, in the second before he landed. Remus smiled at him as he appeared. They both stepped aside and Dumbledore appeared with a pop. Looking around, Harry saw they were in a small room with high ceilings. The walls and floor were dark polished wood. A bust stood upon a carved wooden pedestal against the wall in front of them and there was the sound of owls hooting softly off to the right.

Remus approached the bust and touched the base with his wand. "Welcome to the Library," the bust said in a deep voice. "Three," said Remus and the bust said, "Pass." The wall against which the bust was placed suddenly became an open archway.

Remus led the way through it. Harry had the feeling that he had passed through some type of barrier or curtain, although none was now visible. The sound of the owls was sharply cut off once they had passed under the archway. The next room was vast. There were high windows in the walls to the left and right with rows and rows of bookcases, full of books. Harry looked about as Remus continued straight through toward the other end of the room.

Harry turned to Dumbledore and tried to say, "Hermione would love this place", however no sound issued from his mouth. Dumbledore smiled and put a finger to his lips. He was a bit confused but followed Remus through to a door at the other end of the room. Here was a smaller room, similar to the first with a counter in the center, manned by an ancient looking witch. She nodded giving a wrinkled smile to Dumbledore, while pointing silently toward a room to the right. Remus stepped toward the heavy paneled door she indicated, and held it open as Harry and Dumbledore entered.

The door closed behind them with an odd clunking sound. This room was paneled in dark wood, as the rest of the rooms had been, but it was considerably smaller. There was a heavy wooden table in the center of the room with four chairs drawn up around it. In the corner, stood a table that had a small, empty, bookcase on top of it.

Dumbledore and Remus took seats and Harry followed suit. "Umm...why couldn't I talk out there?" Harry asked.

"There is a silencing charm on the Library and there is an Impertubable charm on each of the study rooms," said Dumbledore, indicating the room they were in, with a motion of his hand. Then he continued, "We are here, Harry, because it is unlikely that Lord Voldemort will have death eater spies around this location. They are not a very literary group," he said, chuckling at his own joke. "It will be a good place to talk, without being disturbed."

"Harry, we are extraordinarily indebted to you for your decision to take up the cause of putting an end to Voldemort forever. If we had been lucky, you would never have had to take on such a responsibility until you were of age, and perhaps had more time to learn and develop your magical ability and understanding. Events have not gone in our favor, as you well know. We must equip you as best we can... this we realize. However, even now, you must understand that we feel the decision you have made is not a fully informed one. Youth often glorifies brave deeds without envisioning the consequences of those deeds. This is not to say you are foolish or rash, but that you may not realize the entire cost of such an undertaking."

Harry considered this for a moment. "Neither do you," said Harry quietly.

Dumbledore gave a small smile. "Touché, Harry."

Remus leaned forward, leaning on the table, and sighed, "Yes, it would have been far better if all of this could have waited. It feels wrong to be thinking of teaching you to fight Voldemort. There's no escaping it though..." Remus paused. "Your parents are probably cursing us from their graves." Remus looked disconsolate and he shifted uneasily in his seat. "The first thing we have to do is to discuss this matter of the Avada curse...."

Harry interrupted, "What are you all so upset about? Moody...well not Moody... it was Crouch...but he showed us the Avada Kedavra curse in class two years ago." Harry had performed the curse, and had felt the power and darkness it carried. Deep down he knew it was actually more perilous than he wanted to let on. But he was still angry that they thought he should have consulted them before learning it.

"Harry, last night we overreacted," began Remus. "We know you were just doing what you thought best."

"Please, allow me, Remus," said Dumbledore, once again taking the lead. "Harry," said Dumbledore quietly, "Underneath the Moody disguise, Crouch was a death eater, and such curses are part of their way," explained Dumbledore. "I could teach you to perform dark magic, and, given your natural abilities, coupled with the traces of Voldemort that exist inside you, I could set you upon the path to become a great and terrible dark wizard. The unforgivable curses are called that for a reason. They are designed for manipulation, torture and murder. These are processes not to be allowed in the normal course of wizard activities. Most wizards go through life never seeing any of these curses performed, or ever performing them."

"You must understand Harry, the seduction of the dark arts. As your sense of power grows, so, often, does your need for power. As you saw, or I should say, felt, when you performed the curse, its power does not come from light, and truth, but from hate or fear. I am guessing that Professor MacNessa told you that you needed to get really angry in order to succeed."

"Ya, he did," said Harry, remembering the boar lying dead in the clearing with staring eyes. "And the curse made me sick."

"Many of us, who are in the Order, have had to kill, to save the innocent. But, it is hard to kill, Harry, as I imagine you experienced. Death is very final," said Dumbledore. "I am sorry that you have been taught this magic, but I also bow to its inevitability. We cannot put you in a position where you are targeted for death and not supply you with the same tools as your foes. We have debated what to do in this regard, the three of us, and debated hotly. It seems you have ended that particular debate for us."

"Well, if I don't use the Avada curse, then how am I to kill Voldemort?" asked Harry, tension rising in him. "You must have some idea."

"In truth, we do not know how to defeat Voldemort for good. He might be sent, once again, to the misty realm he inhabited for thirteen years. We know this is not a solution, but it might buy us time. However, you would again have to be put in grave peril to 'test' the hypothesis, and that is completely unacceptable. I was encouraged that Voldemort took your blood, as the 'blood of a foe'. It may even you two up, a bit, by making him more vulnerable to a spell from you, or making it more difficult for him to kill you."

"You realize, I hope, that you will probably not kill Voldemort in a duel, as long as you have your wand, and he has his. The wands will not fight. It would be unwise for you to attempt the use of some other wand, since your wand clearly was meant for you. The results could be disastrous." Harry's hand automatically felt for his wand and he set it quietly on the table. "Voldemort is sorely perplexed by you. He would like to think of you as fairly ordinary, but each attempt to put you out of the way, has gone down in failure. That, of course, is why he has been seeking a complete knowledge of the prophecy. He needs to know if he can kill you. He does not want to risk his existence in an attempt to kill you, which might fail."

"Excuse me," said Harry fast becoming frustrated. "How am I to do it then?"

The silence in the room was deafening. Harry felt blood pounding in his ears. He felt mightily let down. He looked from man to man. These were the people he looked up to, and they simply had no answers.

"Harry, there are ways that may work. There are ways to contain evil such as Voldemort's for all time, but it will not be easy. There are old and forgotten methods and I believe we must try to teach these methods to you, assuming you are able to manage them," said Dumbledore.

"I have never recounted for you, Harry, the magic that I used to end the reign of Grindelwald. I have never spoken of it to anyone, beyond the facts that could not be concealed. In other words, I have never repeated the actual spell. It was an arcane spell and it was wielded at great cost. It was, in the end, one of the few ways in which the necromancer, Grindelwald, could have been subdued. It involves a kind of magic that is rarely used because it requires great magical power, within the castor. It is the magic of the elements, of the forces of nature, or the 'Elementum Enchantments'. It is the magic of earth, air, fire and water."

Harry sat forward with interest. Now they were getting somewhere. Surely if the spell that Dumbledore used had taken care of Grindelwald, he could use something similar on Voldemort. Harry was intrigued.

Dumbledore considered Harry for a moment, "Do you recall the fight that Voldemort and I had in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Most of it"

"What did you think of it?"

"I thought the spell with the water from the fountain was really good. We've never been shown anything like that in classes," said Harry, remembering the spectacular wall of water that had engulfed the dark lord.

"No, you haven't and you won't, because it is not the type magic that most wizards will ever need to invoke. It is rarely taught because its uses are somewhat limited and it can be dangerous. Spells of that type are called Elementum or Elemental Enchantments. In short, it is the process of combining the forces of nature with the magical power that exists within you, to create a spell. The water cocoon was such a spell."

Harry considered this for a moment. "So that stone near Hogwarts, where Grindelwald is...it's one of those spells?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked surprised. "You know the story?"

"Mac, I mean Professor MacNessa, pointed out where the stone is."

"Yes, it was ages ago, but that stone still has power. However, the spell has served its purpose. Grindelwald will never be free of it."

"Wait," said Harry, interrupting. "Is Grindelwald still alive in that stone?"

"No Harry. He was fused with the stone. But his power was also fused into the stone. Once he was overcome by the spell, it still took nearly a year for the stone to stop giving off dangerous emanations. I remember that as I cast the spell, Grindelwald was able to throw one last curse at me as the stone engulfed him, and I bear the scar from it to this day," Dumbledore mused. Harry noticed he was absently rubbing his knee. "Although Voldemort is not likely to be confined easily, still, this is the type of magic he does not understand, or practice."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"I think... a demonstration..." said Dumbledore. Harry leaned on the table as the headmaster rose and waved his wand, producing a large basin full of water. Dumbledore made a swirling motion with the tip of his wand and touched the surface of the water. It swirled violently. "Water wants to seek a level of calm. When stirred thus, it will always try to return to a calm state. It is so with nature. Once you can understand the water, you can control it... use its power. The power of Voldemort ignores the flow of nature and attempts to fight against it. He fears nature, since nature dictates that all things die. Voldemort, therefore, does not allow forces of nature to flow through him, as such spells require. These spells also rely on the individual's capacity to experience positive human emotions, such as love and friendship. That kind of positive energy is a calming force and brings the world in balance, just as the water seeks a level of calm. Voldemort rejects such sentiment."

"Using this type of magic is not the same as performing a specific spell. Instead of stunning an opponent, you are using one of the four elements to your advantage, such as raising the water to surround Voldemort." With that, Dumbledore laid his wand aside and with a motion of his hand, raised the water up and over the top of the basin, where it stood until he released it a few moments later.

"Although we can provide you with examples of magical actions using this power, we can not tell you how to use it in any particular situation. You must decide what to do in that moment."

"Ok," said Harry, "I'm not sure I understand, but I'll try it."

Remus picked up a piece of parchment and a quill from the center of the table. "Shall we ask for some books?" he asked, turning to Dumbledore.

"Please," said Dumbledore. Remus wrote something on the parchment and placed it inside the empty bookcase against the wall. A second later, the parchment disappeared in a puff of smoke and three large old books appeared. Harry stared at them as Remus brought them to the table, and began paging through them.

"Harry, please try something for us," said Dumbledore. The water in the basin was now flat and still again. Dumbledore conjured a candle, which he lit with a wave of his wand. "Without your wand, try to lift the flame from this candle into the air."

Harry looked from Remus to Dumbledore skeptically. "How...I mean, what do I do?"

"Firstly, call up your magic, as though you were creating a Patronus, use a positive memory or feeling and then focus on the fire. Try to think about lifting the fire with the power of your magic."

Harry leaned toward the candle; he exhaled deeply and tried to focus as Dumbledore said. After a minutes silence he was certain he was missing the point and looked up at the headmaster for help. Dumbledore said, "Watch me, Harry." As Harry watched, Dumbledore motioned to the flame and it rose in the air. Once it was several feet above the table, Dumbledore made it soar around the room and then back on to the candle.

Harry cleared his mind for another attempt. He tried to summon a strong, positive thought and gave another try. This time, he could almost feel the fire licking at his hand, although there was no burning sensation, only some warmth. With a great effort, he made the candle flicker violently. When he released his concentration, the flame extinguished with a pop.

"That wasn't very good, should I try again?" asked Harry, looking at the two men. However, they were both smiling broadly.

"I knew he would be able to do it," said Remus enthusiastically. "After all, a Patronus at age thirteen."

"Yes, I always believed he had the ability," answered Dumbledore, never taking his eyes off Harry.

"These spells are not easy, Harry," said Remus. "There are very few wizards who can manage this magic. It's another reason the Ministry doesn't attempt to teach it. They like to stay with spells that most wizards can learn to perform with a wand and which are likely to come up in daily activities. I can't produce this type of spell," he confessed. "In fact, I don't know more than one or two wizards, outside of Dumbledore, who can."

"But all I did was to put the candle out," began Harry.

"But, you could affect the flame without your wand. That is the test," said Dumbledore.

"Professor, I think I was told once that wizards sometimes make things happen because they are scared and such. Isn't this the same thing?" asked Harry.

"No, it's quite different. This magic, while not relying on a wand, does demand concentration and control. It is not random, chaotic magic. You are commanding the elements of earth, wind, fire, and water, to do your biding. You are compelling them to behave in a way that benefits your purpose. You are controlling awesome forces." Harry was rather shocked that he had a talent that most others did not possess. He thought he ought to feel different somehow, knowing he was special in this way; however, snuffing a candle flame did not seem cause for celebration.

"You must practice to see how strong you can become," said Dumbledore. "Ancient magic such as this could prove very powerful against Voldemort, Harry."

"And you should read through this book," Remus said, pushing one of the three books that had materialized, toward Harry. "It's The Elements of Life and the Magic of the Old Ones. This one seems to be the best they have on the subject." Remus told Dumbledore.

"Harry, we would like you to practice raising a candle flame or raising water in a glass each day. I will meet with you once a week, in my office, to see how you are progressing. Again, we do not know that this is the correct path, but it is the best we have."

Harry pulled the book toward himself slowly. "Should I try to keep this secret?"

"I don't think that's necessary Harry," said Remus. "Even children of pure blood wizard families may not know about these spells. It shouldn't matter if people see you practicing." Remus hesitated, "That brings up another point. Have you told anyone else about the prophecy?"

"No, I haven't....not even Ron and Hermione," sighed Harry.

"It would be best to keep that particular information to the fewest number of people possible. Last year the Order members, although they knew they were guarding a prophecy about you, did not know the contents," Dumbledore explained. Dumbledore rose from the chair as though his joints were very stiff. "I think we have finished here, unless you have other questions Harry?"

"Only if you can tell me when I'll have to face him," said Harry bleakly.

"That, I can not," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes remote. "I dare say the moment will arrive much too soon."

The three of them rose and Harry hefted the book into his arms. Just then Remus felt in his pocket. "I nearly forgot. Here, Harry, we want you to take this, and keep it on you at all times," he said, handing Harry a small square mirror. "It's so...."

"You can contact me, or I can contact you," said Harry sadly as he turned the mirror over in his hand.

"Well...yes, but how..." started Remus.

"Sirius...he gave me one last year. But I never used it, I forgot about it...I could have stopped the whole thing....," said Harry despondently.

Dumbledore sighed tiredly, "Sirius gave you such a mirror, Harry?"

"Yes, but I forgot about it until it was too late....then after...I smashed it." Harry turned away from the men. "I could have reached Sirius. No one had to die."

Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, we've all made mistakes. You can't constantly blame yourself for what was done, or not done. We are at much greater fault than you, in this. We want to help you. You act very much on instinct and it has served you well. But you need to find a balance. Ask for help when you need it. Tell us if anything unusual happens. Please use this mirror in need. The Order can come to your assistance quickly if you call us."

"Right," said Harry with a heavy sigh. He pocketed the mirror, vowing he would use it the next time danger struck.

As they strolled back into the Library, Dumbledore nodded and smiled at the witch staffing the counter. Harry tried again to speak within the Library without success. Once they were in the apparation area, he tried again. "So, what's happening with Professor Trelawney? Did you find her?"

Just then a wizard with sandy hair and green robes hurried into the room from the direction of the hooting owls. He was toting a tall, teetering stack of books. Using his wand, he tapped the bust, and with a nod to them, entered through the archway that opened for him in the wall. As he passed through it, it disappeared behind him with a snap.

Remus looked nervously at Dumbledore, then leaned toward Harry and whispered, "We have no leads at this time. We don't know where she was taken, or if she's alive."

Within a few minutes, they had apparated back to the front hall of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry had the book clutched in his arms as he apparated. Dumbledore and Remus started toward the kitchen, when Harry stopped them.

"Remus, when...I mean how, do I return this book?" asked Harry, thinking of how muggle libraries worked.

"It will return itself, Harry. In about two months, it will go back to the Library on its own," explained Remus. "Avoids those nasty, late return fees." He winked at Harry, who smiled.

Ron and Ginny were playing wizard chess in the drawing room. They were looking toward the hall, probably due to the popping sounds from the apparation. Harry came in, sunk into a chair, and dropped the spell book on the floor next to him. Ron looked questioningly at him.

"Who's winning?" Harry asked lightly.

Dumbledore and Remus could be heard going down the stone steps to the kitchen and then their voices where cut off as the door closed. "What have you been up to?" asked Ron loudly. Ginny shushed him and he continued in a loud whisper, "You disappeared after dinner last night, and then later I found you were in bed, already sleeping. Now this morning you were missing again, and here you are, strolling in with Dumbledore and Lupin. I'd like to know what's going on."

Harry hated lying to Ron. Even if he had wanted to tell Ron the whole truth, this was not the time or the place. He decided to go with the story that Dumbledore suggested the following night. "They were all worried that I might still be having Voldemort entering my mind. I guess because he's getting stronger. They were sort of testing me." Harry focused on the chessboard as he explained this since he was afraid Ron would see the lie in his eyes if he looked directly at him. "Hey, Ginny, you nearly have checkmate," he said, by way of distraction.

Both Ginny and Ron automatically turned back to the board. "No I...I don't see...," began Ginny, who looked quickly up at Harry.

Ron did not appear convinced that Harry had told him everything that happened in the closed-door meeting of the previous evening. His best friend was laboring under the impression, as was the rest of the household, that Harry and the others had never left the room. Harry did nothing to alter that view. They didn't need to know that he had been out of the house, alone for three hours.

"Where are your mum and dad?" asked Harry.

"They went to Hogwarts, to visit Percy," said Ginny as she pushed a reluctant pawn into the path of Ron's queen. "They wouldn't let us come along."

"They said there was nothing to see, and that Percy was basically off his nut," said Ron.

Ginny gave Ron a sharp look, "They did not, Ron. They said he was incoherent."

"That's the same thing, Ginny," Ron retorted.

Ron seemed rather grumpy. Harry suspected that he was missing Hermione. There were still several days until they would be back together. As a result, Ron was touchy about everything going on around him. "Harry, how could they have been testing you on Occlumency for three hours? Weren't you already tested by Snape?'

"Oh, leave him alone, will you, Ron," huffed Ginny. Ron shrugged and began studying the board again. Harry felt grateful that Ginny had got Ron to stop questioning him, whatever the reason.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley apparated into the hall a few minutes later. Mr. Weasley headed straight for the kitchen but Mrs. Weasley stuck her head into the room where Harry, Ron and Ginny were. "Hello," she said, rather too lightly.

"So how is he, then," asked Ginny without turning from the game.

"Just the same," said Mrs. Weasley unhappily. She appeared to have red rimming her eyes as she removed her traveling cloak and bustled off toward the kitchen.

Late that afternoon, the sky was darkening and snowflakes were drifting lazily past the windows. Harry was laying on his back upon his bed, in the room he and Ron shared. He had been reading the book Remus had procured for him from the Library and he had been trying to raise the flame of the candle that stood on the nightstand near his bed. Once he got the feel for what he was trying to do, he could almost always snuff out the flame by concentrating. He could not, as yet, make it rise, even a little bit. But at this moment he was simply daydreaming about raising up a huge mountain of earth that could swallow up Professor Snape. A smile crossed his lips.

Ginny entered the room and glanced around, then looked back down the deserted hall, before coming in and perching on the edge of Ron's bed.

"Where's Ron?" she asked

"Umm...he went to get a sandwich or something," said Harry.

Ginny lowered her voice. "Well....Harry... I'm positive that none of the others know, I'm sure Ron is clueless... but, I know you went out last night. I was sitting in the drawing room and I heard the dining room door open, and some shouting, then the front door banging closed. So I looked out the front window, and saw you walking away." Ginny looked at him very seriously and with obvious concern in her voice she asked, "Is there anything wrong?"

"It's no ones business but mine," said Harry, irritably. He realized as soon as the words were out, they sounded much more snappish than he intended. In fact, he didn't know why he had responded that way. Turning toward Ginny to apologize, he saw she was leaving the room. He scrambled into a sitting position. She had caught him off guard. "Ginny!" he called after her.

She turned at the door, "Keep it to yourself then. I'm sure you have your reasons," and she left the room.

Harry realized two things at that moment. First, Ginny must have been worried and had been waiting for him to return last night. That's why she had been in the chair. And also that she had kept his secret, while he had just blown her off, rather than give her some reasonable sounding explanation. He had just treated her the way the Order treated him. Harry felt really guilty for having done it, and was about to go after Ginny to try to make it up to her, when Mrs. Weasley came down the staircase, calling his name.

"Harry, here's a letter from Hagrid, that's just arrived for you." Harry jumped up from his resting spot and took the letter, with a thank you to Mrs. Weasley.

Harry forgot his misdemeanor with Ginny momentarily as he ripped open Hagrid's letter.

Dear Harry,

Can't tell ya how happy I am Buckbeak is comin home. Dumbledore told me this morning, before he left. Been fairly worried over keeping him locked in a house all this time. Hippogriffs is hearty and some do make good house pets, I hear tell, but they need sunshine and fresh air. And, Harry, they need to be flying.

Dumbledore told me how you asked Mrs. Longbottom for this favor. I'm very grateful to ya for it.

Your friend,

Hagrid

P.S. Make sure Beaky gets a good meal before settin off. Don't need him deciding to land, and hunt in the middle of some muggle neighborhood, on the way back. When they're hungry, there's no controlling em.

Harry grinned and checked his watch. They had arranged to return Buckbeak to the forest at Hogwarts as soon as it was dark. Charlie had the most experience with such things, but could not get away due to some top-secret project at the dragon preserve in Romania. In the end, Bill Weasley agreed to take Buckbeak to Hagrid. Since Buckbeak would have to fly, moving him over the holiday was the best plan, so as not to have any students glimpse him on accident.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he really should send Mrs. Longbottom a proper thank you for what she had done for hippogriff rights. He grabbed quill and parchment and went off to find Mrs. Weasley. She was in the kitchen directing the preparation of dinner.

"Oh, Harry dear, are you hungry?" she asked, surveying him, as he entered the room.

"Umm, yes, but that's not what I want," he smiled. "Could you help me with a thank you letter to Mrs. Longbottom?"

"Why of course, and how thoughtful of you," said Mrs. Weasley, warming immediately to the task. "Have you a quill and parchment?" She placed a plate of warm cookies in front of him.

Harry showed her he was prepared, and he sat down at the table smoothing out the paper he had brought. Harry's Aunt Petunia was always careful to send thank you notes promptly, and was thoroughly miffed when she did not receive thank you notes, in what she felt, was a timely manner. She had once gotten off speaking terms with someone over a belated thank you. He really couldn't understand the fuss, for the most part. However, in this case, he was truly grateful, and wanted to express it properly. Neville's gran seemed the sort of old-fashioned person who would probably observe similar thank you note rules as Aunt Petunia.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to know just how to put the proper sentiment down on paper, and in few minutes, to Harry's surprise, he was bounding up the stairs to find Hedwig, sealed letter in hand. After sending Hedwig on her way, Harry had the nagging feeling that there was something else he had intended to do, but could not sort out what it was.

Bill was arriving in about two hours to take Buckbeak to Hogwarts. That was it, he thought, Buckbeak needed feeding. So Harry hurried off to find Dobby who would have some fat rats to fill up the captive hippogriff before the flight. Dobby presented him with a bulging sack, and Harry went up to the room in which Buckbeak was kept. The hippogriff bowed as Harry entered and allowed his feathery neck to be stroked as he gorged on the feast Harry presented to him.

After awhile, Harry retreated to the window seat and watched Buckbeak rout around, tossing straw bedding in the air playfully. Someone had left the Daily Prophet lying in the window seat. Harry picked it up and noted that it was yesterday's paper. Probably Remus had forgotten it here. He opened it absently and scanned the front page. There was an article in which Minister Bagman was being questioned about how he intended to stop the dementor and death eater attacks. There were several reports of gangs of death eaters who had harassed muggle families in the night, torturing various people with the Cruciatus curse, and allowing the dementors to "kiss" several others. The Obliviators were busy keeping the muggle population from knowing that magic had been involved. The Ministry was now recommending that wizards group together for protection, particularly in families that were not pure bloods. Harry's buoyant mood quickly turned to bitterness.

The door opened a crack and Dobby entered the room. "Hello Harry Potter" squeaked the elf. He made for the water trough, which had been placed along one of the walls. With a wave of his hand, the trough was filled with fresh water. Buckbeak cantered over and began drinking noisily.

Harry considered Dobby and thought how he had seen Dobby do some fairly interesting magic but never use a wand. "Dobby, tell me about house elf magic. Don't you ever need a wand?"

"Oh no, Harry Potter, we is not needing wands to do magic. The wizards think a wand helps with magic, but elves do not use them, they do not need them. Elves has very powerful magic that they can use if they are free, or if their masters allow. They can combine their magic too, by working together. Dobby thinks it makes wizards nervous. They wants only a few of us together in a house...except at Hogwarts. There is one hundred elves there."

Dobby pulled some wool and knitting needles from a deep pocket. "Dobby has knitted a scarf for Beaky. See?" He held up a long red scarf with a tassel on one end. "Dobby is finishing it quickly so Beaky can wear it when he flies today." Dobby climbed up next to Harry and began constructing, what Harry guessed must be the other tassel.

Harry considered the house elf for a moment. "Dobby, how do you like it here?" he asked.

"It is wonderful, Harry Potter. Dobby likes fixing the house for the Order." Dobby was attaching the tassel now.

Harry nodded silently. He stared out the window and his mind drifted to the prophecy again, never far from the surface, and the war between the wizarding world and Lord Voldemort.

"Harry Potter, sir, you look rather low," said Dobby as he worked.

"Oh, I'm all right." Harry muttered, "Just worried about Voldemort and the war, and all,"

"The war is bad. Dobby hears the wizards talking. Dobby wonders that they never ask the house elves to help. The Malfoy's would not think to ask the house elves to help. They think house elves are only good for house spells. Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore are not thinking like that."

Harry looked at Dobby quizzically, "Would house elves be willing to help in the war?"

"They has not been asked, Harry Potter," stated Dobby.

Harry considered this for a moment, "What if they were asked?"

"They would fight for their masters," said Dobby simply.

Harry wondered at this. He watched the elf working at his scarf. "So Dobby, would you be willing to fight for the Order?"

"Yes," was his squeaky reply. "Dobby will help in any way he can, sir. Dobby is proud to help the good wizards. Dobby's father was always telling Dobby.... Hold your head up high. But, Dobby is being born into the Malfoy house and they are not taking elves with high heads as a good thing. Now Dobby holds his head up, though. He has clothes, and is being paid," said Dobby proudly.

"Would the Hogwarts elves help Dumbledore if he asked them, do you reckon?"

"Certainly they would, Harry Potter. Would you like Dobby to ask them? They is liking Professor Dumbledore very much. There is lots of work to do at Hogwarts. House elves like to have lots of work."

Harry pondered this. He wondered if Dumbledore knew he had potential allies within the castle that he could call upon. He smiled over at Dobby who was happily draping the new scarf around Buckbeak's neck.

Harry went back down to the drawing room where Ron was still sprawled on the floor working on his letter to Hermione. It was now about three feet of parchment long, and he glimpsed a small heart drawn in the margin as he looked down at Ron's work. Ron quickly rolled up the parchment except for the newest part. "I've never seen you work as hard on a Transfiguration essay, as you are doing on this letter," grinned Harry.

Ron flushed, "Well mate, you know how it is"

"Not really," laughed Harry "I'll be watching you for hints though."

Ron snorted, made too pound on Harry's foot with his fist, and then returned to his letter.

Harry began to wonder where Bill was. "Your brother, has he come yet?"

"Uhh...I think he's down stairs," mumbled Ron.

Harry headed for the kitchen. As he pushed open the door, he caught the end of a conversation. "I can get all the gold out on about an hours notice, but it would be better to slowly start moving it now, just in case." Bill was saying to Mr. Weasley, Remus and Dumbledore, who Harry had not expected in the kitchen.

They stopped talking and turned as he entered.

"Oh, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Please come in. This matter concerns you too. It appears the goblins may be wavering about whom to side with; the Ministry or Voldemort. They may not be able to maintain neutrality as they wish to. We are concerned that gold deposits at Gringotts may be in jeopardy, if the goblins go over to Voldemort. I am planning to secure an area beneath Hogwarts to store the gold of the Order members, temporarily. Bill is going to handle the removal of the gold to the school."

"It is entirely up to you, but I would recommend, as your financial guardian, that you allow Bill to move your gold as well."

"Ok," nodded Harry. "Thanks, Bill."

Bill smiled grimly. He was dressed in his dragon hide boots and leather pants and a long black leather traveling coat. With his hair tied back in a ponytail, he looked like an action hero from a movie poster. "If the vaults contain anything besides gold, I'm leaving those items behind. It will be hard enough to manage this without serious suspicion."

"Yes, I see what you mean, Bill," said Dumbledore. "Remus and I will assist you so as not to make it look too odd. How will that be?"

"Perfect," said Bill. He turned, "Well now Harry, let's see that hippogriff of yours, shall we?"

Harry led the way up to Beaky's room. Buckbeak considered Bill with the twist of his feathery head as they entered the room. Bill bowed formally and waited. Buckbeak soon placed one hoof forward and bowed his head. Bill approached and stroked the hippogriffs neck. "Alright then Harry, lets get him up to the roof, shall we?" said Bill, pulling on some leather gloves and attaching a lead around Buckbeak's neck.

"Bye, Beaky," said Harry, stroking the hippogriff. They led him together out on to the landing and then up to the attic, where an opening had been made to allow the passage of owls in and out. It was large enough to allow egress by a rider on a hippogriff as well. Bill mounted, and turned to Harry. "I'll send an owl once we arrive. I assume Hagrid will know all about this, and be able to take over once we arrive?"

"Yes he's really looking forward to it," said Harry who knew Hagrid would be overjoyed.

"Later, then" said Bill, smiling, as he urged the hippogriff forward. Buckbeak sprang into the air spreading his massive wings and soon they were but a faint speck against the cold, black sky, winging north.

Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt came for dinner, as did the twins. Just before they all sat down, Tonks bounded in to the room, claiming to be near death from hunger. Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue but hurried to set another place at the table. During dinner, Harry happened to glance up and found Ginny looking at him in an appraising sort of way. He remembered suddenly that he had been a bit flip with her earlier and had intended to mend it, but never had.

"Are we allowed to go out for a bit of a walk in the snow after dinner?" she asked the table in general, but with her eyes narrowed on Harry.

There was a moment of shocked silence. Mr. Weasley looked up from his plate and Remus glanced over at her. "Well, Ginny, dear," said her father slowly. "Of course, we can't have you out walking around. It could compromise this location. You should know by now we can't have too many people coming and going from the front door."

"Is that a rule then? And does it apply to all of us?" She looked innocently at Harry.

Harry thought that Fred and George had nothing over on their younger sister in terms of her ability to cause a stir if she wished to. She obviously was trying to get back at him for their earlier conversation. His face flushed.

Remus joined in, "We all need to be very careful while we're here, Ginny."

"Oh, well, it was just a thought, "said Ginny mildly, returning to her rhubarb crumble.

Harry kept his head down, not wishing to meet any eyes that might be aimed his way. He resolved to catch Ginny alone later and give her some sort of story before she told the others what she had seen. He dreaded the explanations that such information would require. Ron and Hermione would be relentless.

A noisy round of charades was the evening's entertainment. Fred and George kept the group in stitches with their pantomime of Ludo Bagman as Minister of Magic. As it grew later, people drifted off to their own pursuits. Ron got out his quill and the parchment roll he had been working on earlier and continued where he had left off. Harry took the opportunity to go looking for Ginny.

The door to her room was closed, so he knocked softly. "Yes?" he heard her ask. Harry opened the door and walked in. "Harry!" said Ginny in an irritated voice. She was sitting on her bed in her dressing gown, using a sort of short purple brush to change the color of her toenails. She swung her feet down to the floor and covered her legs a bit more. "I didn't invite you in, did I!"

"Umm...sorry...should I just...." and he turned back toward the door, rather red faced.

"No...sit down. What did you want?"

Harry didn't understand why he felt so wrong-footed all of the sudden. He almost stumbled over a small purple case on the floor that said Bewitching Beautification. He wondered what Ginny wanted with that stuff. Harry sunk down on the bed opposite hers. "Well, I just wanted to explain more about last night...when you saw me leave the house." He suddenly realized he hadn't planned out a very believable story. She was surveying him as though she was expecting a fabricated story.

"Go on," she said.

"I had been talking to Dumbledore, Remus, and your dad, and I just got sort of mad and stormed out on them. Then I strolled around the streets for a while and came back."

"I see," she said. "Did you walk into a lamppost on your stroll?"

Harry looked at her confused

"Your mouth, Harry. You have a cut and your lip is puffy on this side," she said pointing.

"Do you think Ron noticed?" asked Harry, getting up and walking over to a mirror on the wall.

"He's too love sick to notice anything," Ginny said, smiling.

Harry decided to drop all pretenses. He obviously was not winning. "Ginny, I went out last night because I was mad and I had some thinking to do. I got in a fight, but I came back in one piece. No one knows though, besides your dad, Remus and Dumbledore. Can we leave it at that?" he asked impatiently. "I don't need lectures and questions from everybody."

Ginny's expression softened. "You shouldn't let me egg you on so." Harry looked over at her. "I was just angry. I was worried when you left the house last night, and then you snapped at me when I asked you about it." Ginny sighed looking steadily at him, "I really have no right to ask." She gave him a small, genuine smile, "Sorry!"

Harry, whose stomach muscles had clenched during this exchange, relaxed as well. "No, you were fine, it was me....I just have a lot on my mind." Harry wanted to leave this topic behind. "Nice color, by the way," he said, pointing to her feet, which sported shocking pink nail polish.

She chucked a pillow at him, good naturedly, which he caught and tossed on the bed.

"Harry," she said seriously. "You CAN talk to me you know. If there's ever anything you'd like to talk about, that is."

Harry met Ginny's gaze. For a split second he felt a flutter in his chest and a constriction in his throat. "Thanks," he mumbled. He ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked back down the stairs he realized with an odd little lurch that he probably could talk to her. He had said he didn't want to be questioned and she hadn't asked him one. He hesitated on the stairs and looked back up toward her room.

After a cup of hot cocoa in the kitchen with Remus, Harry decided to call it a day and headed up stairs for bed. After donning his pajamas, he caught his reflection in the chipped mirror on the wall. Pulling his fringe back off his face his scar was plainly visible. Harry had experienced mild prickling and an occasional eruption of pain over the past two months, but for the most part, he had to admit, the Occlumency had really helped; Mac's lessons, that is. Snape's lessons had done nothing to help, in his opinion. He now felt he could suppress most of the intrusions of Voldemort's emotions and repel them if necessary. Harry ran a finger over it, feeling its slight indentation, thin and cruel. He wished there was a spell to cover it up. Being marked by Voldemort was somehow becoming the sum total of his life. It had created a deadly future for him, and it had so far, taken from him the support he so desperately wished for.

All those whose care he should have fallen under, were swept from his life. He did not want to be responsible for even more deaths. Ron, Hermione, the Weasley's, Remus, the members of the Order, all were at peril for knowing him and associating with him. Perhaps he should have run. Perhaps....

Harry's concentration was broken as Ron burst into the room. He turned to face a beaming Ron. "Hey, Harry, listen to this," he said holding up a piece of parchment. "Letter from Hermione...Pig just delivered it now...she says her parents really liked me...I don't mind saying I was a bit worried and all."

"That's really good, Ron. But, what's not to like. You're a prefect and captain of the House Quidditch team, and you come from a really nice family." As Harry finished his sentence he felt his throat constrict and he turned away from Ron. The realization that Ron had everything that he, Harry, wanted and wished for, was like icy water being pitched in his face. He was not jealous of his friend, but he did feel ill used by what...fate?

As they got into bed, Ron noticed Harry's spell book.

"What's that about?" he asked, flipping through the pages.

"Remus got it for me. It tells how to do some kinds of really old spells. Thought I'd play around with it a bit." The statement was true, and as such, did not make Harry feel quite so guilty at not confiding in Ron about his real reason for having it.

"What kind of spells?" asked Ron. "Anything useful?"

"Well, see the candle flame. I guess if you concentrate hard enough, you would be able to make the flame fly around the room," explained Harry.

"Sounds like a fire hazard, if you ask me," said Ron. "Can I give it a go?"

"Sure," said Harry, thinking he'd like to see if Ron could work these spells too. "Do you remember how we did the Patronus spell in the D.A.? Just concentrate on the flame the same way, but sort of 'will' it to rise."

Ron gave it four tries but did not seem to be able to affect the flame at all, not even a flicker. "Are you sure Remus explained it correctly," asked Ron, "Cause it doesn't seem to do anything."

Harry shrugged and blew out the candle.