Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor

Chapter Four - Dueling is Like a Game of Chess

Everyone was gathered in the brightly lit room, standing against the walls. A large sugary cake stood upon the table. On the cake, were the words, Happy Birthday Harry Potter. Candles burned gaily on top. Next to the words were a broomstick and a snitch made of icing. Dobby was standing next to the table with eyes both excited and apprehensive.

"Wow," said Harry, brushing the hair back from his face. "You know, I totally forgot it was my birthday today until I was talking to my aun...." Harry stopped and shook his head slightly. Then he changed the subject saying, "The cake looks great!" Harry saw Dobby beam up at him.

"So we surprised you then?" asked Ron with a laugh.

"Yes," said Harry, "you did."

Mac looked solemnly at Harry and said, "Today, you are 'of age' in the wizarding world; a man. That calls for a speech, young Harry!"

Harry looked around at his friends who were all beaming at him. Dumbledore must have arrived while he had been looking through his mother's notes, and was standing behind everyone. "Umm," Harry began, "Thanks everyone. With everything going on, well....I really had forgotten what day it was until just a little while ago." Harry squared himself and cleared his throat, then began again, "I guess I don't feel like I'm different today. Except that I'm done with the Dursleys. I'm just really glad that you're all here." Harry was suddenly overcome with a strange sensation of being adrift in the world but for his friends. "It really means a lot to me...umm...Thanks again," he said quietly.

"Harry, you're a truly riveting speaker," Ron laughed. "At least, if you haven't anything more to say, cut the cake so we can eat." Harry grinned and took up the knife, craving large wedges for everyone. Dobby received much praise for the cake and he grinned toothily at the assembled group.

Along with his other birthday wishes, and presents was a package from Hagrid containing a load of Honeydukes chocolate bars, a dog-eared paper back manual for the motorbike, and a letter.

Dear Harry,

I hope yer doin all right with the Weasley twins. I'm sure they're a fun lot to be stuck with. They always make me laugh.

Now yer of age, you might be allowed to use that flying motorbike. I found the manual an all, so I thought you'd be wantin it.

My summer is not so fun. Draco Malfoy is giving me fits. Tries hiding and avoiding work whenever he can. I have to tell him off three times a day. His mum keeps sending me letters for him, but he's not to have outside mail and she's been right rude when I send them back to her.

We had to capture a bunch of gnomes that had infested the greenhouses. .He was bloody useless. Once he'd get one and it would start squirming and scratching at him to try and get away, as they'll do, he'd drop em, and we'd be right back where we started, so a two hour job took most of the day.

I'll be glad when term starts and he's not my problem any longer.

Your friend,

Hagrid

Harry smirked as he imagined Draco wrestling struggling gnomes and being yelled at by Hagrid everyday... and having to take it. Amidst the crumpled wrapping paper, the cheery conversation and the plates of cake, he beamed around at the room in general. He couldn't remember why he had felt badly at Aunt Petunia's leaving. He was among his true family here.

At the end of the evening, Dumbledore asked Harry quietly to walk to the gate with him. Harry left the warm bright dining room, full of happy talk and walked with Dumbledore out into the dark, cool night. "Harry, the night of your parents' death, I had to make a plan for your future. Through careful planning, I believe you will find you have sufficient gold to sustain you for a very long time. You will not have to dispose of any property for many years. I can turn the management of it over to you whenever you would like, but I would be very happy to continue to manage it for you until you are done with school, at the least. As you know, the gold in your Gringotts vault was transferred to Hogwarts. It is readily available should you need it."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, "Sir, could you just keep doing it for the time being? I don't really know much about it all, and with school, and of course Voldemort...well who knows if I'll even need it."

Dumbledore sighed, "Harry, I would be very concerned if your natural optimism were lost. You must keep a positive attitude. It may be a long while before you need face Voldemort."

Harry stared at the ground and mumbled, "Sir, the longer I wait, the stronger he gets. The longer I wait, the more people he kills and tortures, and now he's attacking my friends for what he thinks they might know. I don't think I can afford to wait all that long."

"Harry, don't be in a rush to face him. Give us time to prepare you," Dumbledore replied. Harry was skeptical that any of the things he was learning was going to be enough when he actually came face-to-face with Voldemort again.

Harry and Dumbledore had arrived at the gate and Dumbledore made to leave. "Sir," said Harry, "Can I ask a question?"

"Why of course you may, I, however, may not be able to answer it," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"Why did you test me for Elemental magic? What made you think I might be able to do it?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "What makes you ask, Harry?"

"I found an old notebook of my mother's. I think she could do some Elemental spells," said Harry. "Does it run in families?"

"I was aware that Lily possessed a small amount of talent in this area. She also did some research on the subject. This trait does recur in families, although, there are so few examples that it is difficult to spot patterns. I thought it was worth a try."

"I've seen loads of wizards do a bit of magic without their wands. Except for my storm spell, I'm not sure I see any difference."

"At the lower levels Harry," began Dumbledore, "it does not appear much different. However, if you recall the test, I did not ask you to light a fire, I asked you to move a flame. Subtle though it may be, there is a difference. Almost any competent spell caster is capable of igniting tinder into flame; however, they do not have control over the flame itself. There in lies the difference. You, Harry are controlling the thing itself." Harry looked at him, still puzzled. Dumbledore tipped his head as though searching for an explanation, "In muggle terms, it is like the difference between the person who flicks on the light switch and the person who operates the electrical plant that supplies the power to the switch." He looked at Harry keenly, "According to Professor Flitwick, your mother discovered, quite by accident, that she could move flame. I have no idea what power she may have possessed, but it seems that she passed it to you and that, at least is something." Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch and Harry saw it glint in the moonlight as he inspected it. "Ahhh, alas, I must be off. A very Happy Birthday, Harry, and I'll see you in two days for your next lesson."

With that, Dumbledore opened the gate and disappeared into the night leaving Harry with more questions than answers.

After the dinner was cleared away, Harry suggested they have a bonfire again out by the garden. He was beginning to enjoy sitting and gazing into a fire outside, at night. Hermione, Ron and Ginny all agreed, happily. They had a lot of catching up to do.

The fire burned up brightly sending tiny sparks skyward on the hot stream of rising air. The four of them sat in a semi-circle, faces glowing in the firelight. Harry noticed Ron was rubbing his injured leg. Madam Pomfrey had said Ron was likely to have the limp, which resulted from Percy's attack, for the rest of his life. Harry understood that Ron didn't like to draw attention to it. It was like his scar. He'd rather people didn't mention it. Ginny was watching her brother too.

"This is so nice," said Hermione, as she moved in closer to Ron. Ron smiled at her and put an arm around her.

"Ya, we haven't had a chance to talk together for a month. I'm rather glad we got to come here," said Ron. "It was really nice in France, mind you."

"Harry, this cottage is very nice," said Hermione. "Do you think you'll live here once school is done next year?" It was an innocent enough question and Harry nearly answered yes, without thinking. He really liked it here. The inescapable fight he must eventually wage against Voldemort replaced that thought. He wondered what chance he had to enjoy a peaceful life here or anywhere else. "Harry? Did you hear me?" she asked.

"Yes, I guess I'd like that very much," Harry replied softly. Ron seemed to know what was on his mind.

"Hermione, he's worried about Voldemort," Ron explained. He was now able to say the name without stumbling over it. He turned to Harry, "Harry, remember how Dumbledore told you that you should talk about killing those two Death Eaters? Well, here we are. So talk."

"Oh Ron!" said Hermione exasperatedly; obviously feeling that Ron was being completely insensitive.

"Ok," said Harry, feeling that he could probably put it into words now. "None of you were there, but you heard Neville tell what happened. It was as though everything was moving slowly, even though it was over in a second. I mean I didn't plan it or even think about it. I felt so angry at that moment, and I couldn't see how we'd get out alive. I was feeling desperate and I knew I could use the anger to curse them. I knew the hate was strong enough and I could do it. It's a very odd feeling, too. It feels like it's drawing you in. It's like blackness on the edge of your brain."

"The thing is, now that I know how to use the curse, it's almost... too easy. I know I can do it if I'm feeling enough hate. I don't want to turn into a person like the Death Eaters who just kill, because they're in the mood. I mean...I know I can actually do it and I wanted to do it. I think that's the part that Dumbledore didn't want me to know about," Harry paused and there was silence. "When we found out about Lucius Malfoy giving Ginny the mark I thought how I'd kill him for it."

"Harry, don't let anyone..." began Hermione, but Ron interrupted.

"Lucius Malfoy....he....what mark?" said Ron, rounding on Harry and Ginny.

Ginny sighed, "When I was being held by the Death Eaters, Malfoy put a curse on me." She explained what Dumbledore had told her about the mark and how it was probably the way that Percy had been controlled.

"Why didn't you tell us this right away?" asked Ron shortly. Hermione was looking extremely worried.

Ginny did not look at her brother. "Ron, There's nothing anyone can do right now. Harry did the counter curse and we'll have to wait to see if Malfoy tries to use it to....make me....to control me," Ginny finished uncomfortably. Harry knew the thought of being controlled by Lucius Malfoy both worried and angered Ginny.

"I'll kill him," said Ron quietly. "Some people deserve to die...like Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. We're all better off now she's dead."

Harry stared at the fire. Ron didn't really understand what he had said. Harry felt it was very hard to explain. "It's one thing to think about killing someone who is evil, and it's another to actually kill someone. It sort of leaves a mark on you. It makes me feel that I can't ever go back to being what I was before I did it. I can't ever go back to not knowing what it's like to take someone's life." Harry's voice cracked, "I'd like to kill Malfoy too if I met him again, but I know it would just make the next killing that much easier."

"Harry, in St. Mungos it was self-defense. I mean you had to do it to save your self and Neville, and that little girl," said Hermione.

"You see, that's the thing," said Harry, "I was mad and scared and I knew they were evil, and it gave me the power to kill them." He suddenly felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. He tied to stare straight ahead and not blink. He didn't want the others to think he had lost his nerve.

The group sat in silence. Harry noticed vaguely that Ginny had taken his hand. Finally, he let out his breath and removed his glasses, wiping his shirtsleeve across his eyes.

"What about Voldemort," asked Hermione, "can you bring yourself to kill him, Harry? Because, maybe you should just go into hiding. If you can't do it, then you shouldn't try to face him."

"What a stupid thing to say," interjected Ron. "It's not the same thing."

"I think you're missing Harry's point," said Ginny.

"It's not like that really. I'm glad I killed those two, because if I hadn't they would have killed us. Voldemort deserves to die. He killed my parents and for that alone, I hope I can kill him. It's just it makes you feel sort of old and tired, like you know too much and you can't go back to not knowing," Harry's voice trailed off. He didn't know how to explain the feeling to his friends who had not looked into the dead eyes of a foe that would never rise again. He shivered. He wasn't sure that this talk was doing him good. He felt rather sorry for himself, and it made him feel tainted. He looked again at Ginny. Her eyes were trained on him and were full of concern. She put her hand on his chest, against his heart and held him in her gaze. He felt as though his very soul was bare and she was looking at it... and she was not looking away.

Ron cleared his throat, "Harry, you know we're all with you. If we can do anything, you know we will. I may not be the one who can kill him, but damned if I won't stand with you."

Harry turned to Ron, "Thanks, that means a lot."

The conversation had become very serious and as though everyone silently agreed that they should change the subject, Hermione spoke up, "Well, Harry, I really love the color of the bedroom you have us in. Such a pretty shade of yellow, don't you think Ginny?" Ginny nodded absently.

"It's a great house Harry. It'll be a good place to come home to after a day of catching dark wizards," said Ron, flashing him a grin. "Do you think it will make a good bachelor pad? I mean, will it impress girls?"

Harry laughed, "Why, were you thinking of moving in with me?"

"Only if women will be flocking to us in droves," said Ron. Hermione punched him in the arm. While they bickered playfully back and forth, Harry turned to Ginny who gave him a mischievous grin and a kiss on the cheek.

With all the new arrivals, there were fresh potential dueling partners and Mac was happily putting Harry up against two or more of them at one time. Mac rarely dueled with Harry himself, and when he did, it was always a short demonstration of some move or hex.

Harry was taking on various combinations, such as Ron and Fred, or Hermione, George and Ginny. Fighting a group was much more difficult than one opponent. Harry had to concentrate on disarming as many foes immediately at the beginning of the attack as he could if he was going to have a fighting chance. Mac explained that sizing up potential opponents at a glance was a key skill for an auror and it was what kept them alive. "Disarm the biggest threat first, boy, then if you have to duel with one of your attackers, you are fighting the weakest one. It only makes sense. The trick is figuring out which it is."

Of course, with his friends, the task was easy. He knew from experience that Hermione was the weakest dueler. While excellent at spell work, she was not aggressive enough in a fight to hold her own for long. Ron was a bit too rash. He failed to apply the same strategy he did in chess to a dueling situation. On the other hand, he was fearless in a fight. Ginny had a very cool head in a duel and she was not afraid to throw a curse at her opponent. She was very focused, as well. Fred and George, so similar in other ways, did have different dueling styles. They were both stealthy and unbelievably quick, but Fred was a faster thinker and was always planning a step ahead. George was better at confusing his opponent and in egging his opponent on to do something stupid in frustration.

Dueling with Ron was fun. Dueling with Fred, George and even Ginny was work.

Late one evening, about a week after his birthday, Mac asked Harry to take a walk with him. They went out strolling around the walled perimeter of the property. "Young Harry, you have reached the point where the available pool of dueling partners can not satisfy our need to improve your skill level. If you were a real auror trainee, there would fellow aurors certified at various levels, which could challenge you, and allow you to try yourself against increasingly difficult opponents. The twins have proven to be excellent opponents, but you have the gauge of them and so you can beat them at will. I notice that you still hold back and let them each win when you could have beaten them."

"Sir...," began Harry.

"No need to explain, boy. I can see the look in your eye as you duel. I can see when you feel you can envision the end game and when you retire and let them have the win."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew he was doing just as Mac said. He didn't know it was so obvious. "You can tell when I'm doing that?" asked Harry turning to look at Mac.

Mac laughed softly to himself. "Boy, I have been doing this sort of thing for a very long time. I am not worried about it as long as I can see that you actually know how to win and that you could execute if need be. I understand that they are your friends first and opponents second."

"No, boy, the real problem now is that you need a more unpredictable opponent. Dumbledore refuses to let any more people in here, and I quite agree. So, beginning tomorrow, you and I will begin dueling." Mac stopped in a very dark corner of the yard where no moonlight or cheery light from the windows penetrated, and faced Harry. His eyes gleamed strangely in the dark and bored into Harry's. He lowered his voice, "This will not be a well arranged game. I'm not going to be bowing or giving you time to think or plan. I'm going to be coming after you. Be prepared for anything." Mac's words hung shivering in the night air and if Harry hadn't taken the measure of this man before, he would have drawn his wand at this instant to defend himself for real; such was the menace that Mac had leveled at Harry in that moment. Harry shuddered.

"So, tomorrow will begin a new phase," said Mac, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and carrying on with the walk as though everything were fine. Harry casually felt his pocket. Yes, his wand was there.

The next morning, very early, there was a banging sound as the bedroom door slammed back against the wall and Harry sat up in bed with a lurch. As he fumbled for his glasses he saw Mac standing in the doorway, wand pointed at him. He advanced on Harry, approaching his bed. The man had a face as expressionless as stone. "Mac...," Harry said, trying to grasp the situation. Mac said nothing, but raised his wand aggressively. Harry felt sudden and overwhelming panic and he grabbed for his wand, crawling backward over his bed to get some distance between them.

Harry was vaguely aware of Ron sitting up. "What's going on?" he asked blearily.

Harry wanted to know the same thing. He moved toward the door, wand ready, not taking his eyes off Mac. "Expelliarmus," shouted Mac, suddenly.

Harry yelled "Protego!" and dived to the floor. He scrambled out into the hall and heard the blast of a spell zoom over his head. "Mac, what are you playing at?" called Harry as he leapt down the staircase, looking over his shoulder.

"Potter, are you that sure of your friends? What if one of them was actually an enemy?" was the reply as another spell shot past him, grazing his shoulder and causing a sharp stinging sensation. Harry spun around. He was getting mad now. Gritting his teeth, he shot a stunner in Mac's direction, but the man was remarkably quick for his age and he dodged the red jet of light easily.

Harry flung open the door and stumbled out into the yard. What was going on? Why was Mac attacking him? Suddenly the image from the talk under the trees came back to him. So, boy, beginning tomorrow, you and I will begin dueling. Harry recalled the ominous sounding words Mac had spoken. Was this what passed for dueling practice with Conner MacNessa? Being awakened out of a sound sleep and hexed? Harry rubbed his shoulder and instinctively ducked behind a bush to the side of the front door. He collected himself and then made a dash toward the side of the cottage just as Mac emerged and charged after him. Harry dodged a volley of spells until he found protection behind the stone shed behind the house. He was panting and trying to sort out what to do next. Then he had an idea. He found a handhold in the stone wall and scrambled up it, pulling himself on to the roof. The metal edging scratched his stomach and as he rolled over, he saw blood droplets across his chest. As silently as he could, Harry crept over the peak of the roof and looked down at the ground. Mac had approached the shed and by the look on his face, was sure he had Harry, no matter what move Harry made. There would only be a split second before Mac realized his mistake. He aimed his wand and shouted, "Stupefy!" Mac slumped to the ground.

Harry was breathing hard as he lowered himself from the roof, and dropped to the ground. The entire household was now out on the lawn, wands drawn, trying to see what was happening. Harry noted that Fred and George were simply smiling. They must have been in on the plan, thought Harry, as he wiped some dirt from the palm of his hand. Even in the early coolness of the morning, sweat was covering his chest.

When he had caught his breath, he walked over to MacNessa, pointed his wand at him and said, "Ennervate." Mac stirred. He rolled on to his back, looking up at Harry. "How's your shoulder, boy?"

"It's ok," said Harry slowly.

"Good," Mac said, getting to his feet. "Good trick, getting on the top of this shed," he said. Then he surveyed Harry and said, "You got cut I see." Harry nodded. "The first thing to remember about escaping an attack is that the obvious ways out of a trap are often the easiest for an enemy to guard, so don't use them. The stairs would have been too easy to defend. Once you were on them, I could have had you." Harry knew this was true. "But the shed roof was an excellent choice. I'm impressed. Most attackers are looking straight ahead, not up or down. Very well done, that!"

"So, this was part of my lesson for today?" asked Harry rubbing his sore shoulder.

"Young Harry," said Mac putting a hand on his back, "This kind of thing will compose your lessons for the remainder of the summer. An attack may come at anytime. I went easy on you this morning, but if you hold back, I'll play rough."

Harry could not decide if he was angry or impressed.

That evening in the parlor, Ron was playing wizard chess with Fred, while Hermione and Ginny watched. It was a very loud game as each of them egged on their pieces. Mac looked up from his book occasionally to comment on the game. Harry was seated at the writing desk with the contents of his mother's trunk at his feet. Since the evening of his birthday, Harry had been reading and trying to organize his mother's notes. Hermione was keen to help him and Ginny had offered as well. For some reason, Harry didn't want others shuffling through his mothers note's...not yet. He followed her references to the books in the case but could not find the paper that she had written. Moreover, although she mentioned some other research she must have done in the Department of Mysteries, copies of those papers were missing from the trunk as well.

Suddenly, Harry had an inspiration. He turned in his chair and asked the room in general, "How can a person get permission to get into the Department of Mysteries?" The room went silent as they all looked over at him.

"You need special permission from the Ministry for that, boy," said Mac. "I'm not sure what office handles those requests. Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to see what my mother wrote about Elemental magic. I think the papers must be in the Department of Mysteries, because they aren't here. I wonder if I could get permission...."

"Young Harry, use your head boy," interrupted Mac. "You couldn't just ask to see those documents. It could leak out that you inquired and someone might put two and two together." Harry knew Mac well enough to know that he was now trying to work out a plan to do exactly that. Harry waited.

"We could ask to go in to do research on something else..." Mac looked pensive. "I'll have a bit of a chat with Dumbledore. Leave it to me."

The next afternoon Dumbledore took Harry into the side garden and they sat on the bench near the rose bed. "Harry, things are becoming most desperate," said Dumbledore. "We must put renewed effort into your spell work."

"I'm ready sir," said Harry, "I've been practicing a bit every day, but you haven't let me practice with air for some time now."

"I know, Harry," said the old wizard, "I want to teach you how to control it and not be weakened by it. You can now move the flame of a candle when it is 20 feet from you. Your range is increasing and that means your control is increasing."

"Have you ever tried to summon the storm without moving," asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Harry. "You told me to spin around and that's what I've been doing each time."

"Well then, today we are going to dispense with that," said Dumbledore. "I am drawing upon my own experience and air, is not my special spell, as it were. Since it appears to be yours, you may not need the extra push. Then you can concentrate on control and not on falling down due to dizziness," snickered Dumbledore.

Harry got to his feet and he took several deep breaths, then he concentrated and summoned the element of air. He felt the power begin to surge into him and then back out spinning upward into wicked black storm clouds that crackled with lightening. He felt his arms rising up from his side but it was as though they belonged to a different body. The power surging through him was strong and seductive. Harry felt that it was beckoning him to funnel all his energy and strength into the storm. Harry resisted and aimed at a bush standing alone, feet from the garden wall. He willed the lightening to strike it and a moment later, a huge flash of light shot through the air and the bush exploded in a ball of fire. As it did, Harry sunk to the ground landing on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Around him, he heard awed voices.

"Harry, what was that?" Hermione gasped.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen," said Ron, "How did you..."

"Harry are you all right?" he heard Ginny say, and he felt her take hold of his shoulders and steady him.

"He will be fine in a moment," said Dumbledore, taking his arm and helping him up. Harry wobbled and was led to the bench where he sank down.

"Incredible!" said Ron.

"Are you certain you're ok?" asked Ginny softly.

Harry managed to whisper, "Fine."

As he waited for his strength and balance to return, Dumbledore explained to Ron, Ginny and Hermione what they just seen.

"Sir," said Hermione, "we knew Harry was learning these spells, but we didn't know it was anything like this. It's a very strong spell isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Ron appreciatively, "it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up."

"Ron!" said Ginny, giving her brother an icy stare, "this is serious!" She looked up at Dumbledore.

"He will recover in a moment," said Dumbledore, "However, this is strong and ancient magic. Few in our world know of it or remember it. But it is very draining, as you can see."

"That spell must be able to kill Voldemort, don't you think?" asked Ron.

"Alas, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, "Voldemort is very powerful, and impressive as this demonstration was, I am sure that the spell would need to be much stronger for Harry to succeed against him." Dumbledore turned to Harry, "I need a quick word with Conner, Harry. Then we will continue with some exercises to improve your control. I'll return shortly." Dumbledore strode off to the house as the others looked at him in amazement and concern.

When Dumbledore returned the others left and Harry made ready to try the spell again, but Dumbledore motioned him back down onto the bench. "I've just had a word with Conner. He sent me a message regarding the Department of Mysteries. Harry we can't let you go anywhere outside of Hogwarts without a guard. Going to the Ministry these days is fairly dangerous. It is difficult to tell who is on whose side."

"We have kept the regular news from you because we wanted you well and rested while you can. Once you return to school the terrible state of things will be evident. We are starting to see death owls. People receive owl post that contains a deadly curse. Sometimes the very parchment is poisoned, or a spell is activated when the recipient opens it. The attacks on muggles are increasing at an alarming rate, and the Death Eaters become bolder each day. The Ministry is in a panic, and frankly, Ludo Bagman is not up to managing such a crisis."

Harry thought for a moment, "But sir, if everything is so confused at the Ministry, wouldn't that be a good time to sort of sneak in for a look around?"

"You don't sneak into the Department of Mysteries in broad daylight, Harry."

"I got in once," said Harry, but he inwardly winced at the memory.

"Conner has an idea, which I will pursue, but please do not get your hopes up." Dumbledore would say no more on the subject and they went back to Harry's training.

Mac was true to his word and began ambushing Harry at odd times and in odd places. Sometimes he employed the twins or Ron as attackers. After four days of this, Harry was throwing himself into a defensive posture and brandishing his wand at the least little noise. He took to sleeping with his wand under his pillow. He had inadvertently stunned Crookshanks twice for creeping through his bedroom in the dark, and now the cat was hissing at him and running for cover whenever he entered a room.

The worst duel so far had involved an attack that Mac launched during dinner. As they were all passing food around and talking, Mac came into the room with a hood over his face and began shooting jets of red light over their heads. The others had been trained to slump to the floor as though hit during these mock battles. This time, both the twins pulled on Death Eater masks and climbed over the table toward Harry.

Harry had leapt up and in order to throw off the twins, he sent the table over on them. Then he blasted out the window and jumped through it. Dobby, who did not care for the mess caused by the duels that began inside the house, immediately repaired the window just as Fred and George tried to jump through the opening. The result was that they crashed into the newly repaired glass, breaking it again and suffering many cuts. Meanwhile, Mac had circled around the outside of the house to intercept Harry. Harry, guessing that this would be Mac's strategy, had ducked behind a bush until Mac passed then sprung out at him, stunning him. Harry didn't know where the twins had got to, so he snuck back inside the house and crept back upstairs. He was going to lie low in his room, but Hedwig, upset by the loud bangs and shattering glass, screeched in disdain as he entered the bedroom. Harry heard footsteps on the stairs and angled for a hiding place. Ron burst in and Harry exhaled. "Where are the twins?" he asked in a whisper.

Ron drew his wand and shot a Furnunculus curse at Harry who only just ducked and rolled behind Ron's bed in time to miss being covered in boils. "Damn," he said to himself.

Harry slid noiselessly under the bed and hit Ron's foot with a tickling charm before he could come round the bed to look for Harry. As Harry slid out from underneath, Ron who was hopping on one foot, got him with a well-placed stinging hex. Harry's right side was on fire as he skated to the door and out into the hall. As he flew down the stairs, Mac, who had revived, was striding in through the door and hit Harry with a stunner, as he was half way down the stairs. Harry crashed over the railing, landing on the hall table and knocking the candlesticks to the floor.

The devastation was pretty complete, and Dobby was muttering to himself for an hour as he repaired all the broken windows and other items around the premises. "Dobby is not liking all this breaking and banging about Harry Potter. Dobby likes work but not such big cleanings up."

Harry grinned at the elf and promised he would talk to Mac about hosting battles that involved less breakage.

It was now less than a fortnight until they would all return to school. Dumbledore arrived at Godric's Hollow much earlier than usual. He walked in as they were all eating breakfast and took a seat.

"Harry, you asked for an opportunity to see the research records on Elemental magic, including your mother's contributions to the subject. I have arranged something which should work," Dumbledore said. "I began to realize that there might be something in those records which would be useful beyond your curiosity to see your mother's research."

"Our main problem is that we want access to the old reports and records but we do not want to tip off the Ministry as to the true reason for our interest. It was difficult to come up with a plan that might meet with Ministry approval and not arouse suspicion. I needed an innocent reason. I have given official notification to the Department of Mysteries that Conner MacNessa will be teaching a section on obscure magical methods and attributes as part of his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I have said he needs to research some of the old records, and they have granted permission. Due to wanting to be as efficient as possible, I have asked, and they are allowing, two student "helpers" to accompany Conner. That will be Hermione and yourself. Both of you have the credentials. Hermione is the top student in the school and you achieved the highest Defense mark in your O.W.L. test so far recorded."

"Still, we will endeavor to keep your presence in the Ministry low-key. I want you all in and back out as quickly as possible. I, myself, will make a visit to the Ministry that day under other pretenses, as will Remus and Alastor Moody. Arthur Weasley and Kingsley will both be on-hand as well. It is an open-ended invitation so we will pick a random day and not announce your arrival ahead of time."

Hermione had let out a gasp of pleasure. She liked nothing better than combing through a room full of old books. Mac had nodded indulgently at Dumbledore who looked to Harry. Harry grinned back. "Thanks," he said.