The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Affirmation

Ron looked around the assembled throng of wizards.

"The Order of the Phoenix?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Perhaps Miss Granger would care to enlighten us?" he said. Hermione looked startled, but nodded.

"The original Order was made up of those people brave enough to fight Y-" she scowled. "Voldemort. People brave enough to fight Voldemort."

Dumbledore nodded, as much in approval of Hermione using Voldemort's name as in agreement with her story.

"From what I understand, the Order fought in secret. It was never acknowledged by the Ministry. Whatever the Order accomplished remains a secret fifteen years after Voldemort's defeat."

"Very good indeed, Miss Granger. May I ask how you found this out?"

"Eloise Midgen," Hermione said. "Her parents were in the Order, and they told her all about it after their house was attacked."

"Good people," Moody nodded. "I was glad to help them. Even gladder to put their attackers away."

"Eloise has really improved this year," Hermione told him. "She showed everyone in my Dueling Club session a blood clotting spell a couple of months ago. She said she learnt it from you."

For a moment, the ghost of a smile played across Moody's lips. Then his weathered face resumed its usual stern expression.

"Voldemort's rise to power became apparent about forty years ago," Dumbledore said. "I persuaded a number of friends to work with me on ways of stopping him. Among those friends were your grandparents, Harry, Godric and Jennifer Potter."

Harry didn't seem to react, but Ron could tell that he was surprised.

"Voldemort, for some reason never explained, has always had a particular hatred for your family, Harry. It is why he killed your parents. It is why he killed your grandparents. It is why you are the last of your family."

Dumbledore bowed his head, as did many present. Dedalus Diggle removed his top hat.

"When the time came to revive the Order I found myself pleasantly surprised by the number of people who have offered their services. Many remembered your parents, or your grandparents, Harry. Many joined because of friends and family lost in our first war with Voldemort. Still others, of course, joined because they felt it right to do so."

All eyes in the room were on Harry. Everyone seemed to know what was coming next.

"It's me, isn't it?" Harry said quietly. "You're going to say that people are joining because of me."

Dumbledore inclined his head.

There was silence.

Finally, Harry spoke up.

"What does the Order do?" he asked. It was Lupin who replied.

"We spy, we watch, we interfere. We delay Voldemort's plans. If he chose to fight us, there'd be an end to all this. But he won't. It's a long, slow war, and it seems that we're always on the defensive, but we do what we can, and we're stronger this time then we were last time. Voldemort doesn't have the numbers on his side that he once did, although he's been recruiting all year long."

"And you want me to join?" Harry asked.

"We would like all four of you to join," Dumbledore said. "As I said, the four of you have a knack for placing yourselves in dangerous situations and belonging to the Order would give you a means of summoning assistance, if nothing else."

"How?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore tapped his desk four times, each tap producing a golden disc.

"These discs, which I would recommend you wear around your necks. Should you need help, simply grasp your disc and say 'Fawkes'."

Harry smiled slightly on hearing this. Ron looked away from him, and up at Dumbledore.

"Only Order members get them?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"Yes. We would give them to anyone who wished them, but that would inevitably result in the Death Eaters obtaining a means of ambushing our allies. The best we can manage is what we are doing at the moment. Attempt to foil as many assaults as possible, and at the same time practise constant vigilance."

"You are stopping attacks, then?" Ginny asked. "Only, the Prophet doesn't seem to report anything but successful attacks."

"Miss Weasley, it was a wise man who once said that no news is good news. For every attack made successfully by Voldemort's forces, we foil another, on average."

"Why don't I feel that?" Harry asked. "My scar usually flares up when Voldemort gets angry, right? He must be furious that you're stopping so many attacks."

"I would imagine he is, Harry," Dumbledore agreed. "However, the answer to why you don't feel that anger lies within yourself. Or rather, within your relationship with Miss Weasley."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other in confusion.

"Er, what?" Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. He looked around the room, and said, "My friends, I believe that this conversation will be of a somewhat delicate nature. I would ask you to please go into the next room. We shall have our meeting in a few moments."

Dumbledore waved his wand and a number of the portraits of old Headmasters moved aside. A door appeared in the wall, and when Dedalus Diggle opened it and led the members of the Order through, Ron caught a glimpse of a lecture room on the other side.

When the door shut behind the last Order member, the room was empty but for Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys. Fawkes the phoenix ruffled his feathers quietly on his perch. Dumbledore turned to look at Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, when one wizard saves another wizards life, a bond is forged between them. I believe I have told you this before?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, there are such bonds between yourself and Miss Granger, yourself and young Mister Weasley here, yourself and Sirius... Yours is rather a long list, and in some cases the bond goes in both directions. In some cases the bond is purely that someone else, such as Professor Lupin at the start of your third year, has saved your life without you saving theirs."

Dumbledore looked at Harry and Ginny, his eyes sparkling slightly. Ron heard his mum catch her breath, and when he looked at her, she had one hand over her mouth. She too was looking at Harry and Ginny, as though seeing them for the first time.

"Harry, Ginny, I appreciate that this may be somewhat embarrassing for you to hear, and so I would like to apologise in advance. You have saved one another's lives. Harry, you saved Ginny from Tom Riddle during your second year; Ginny, you saved Harry last year, I believe."

Ginny blushed brightly, but nodded. Harry looked up at her questioningly.

"A Dementor in Hogsmeade before Christmas," she said shortly. "It would have got you, but I got it instead."

"Oh," Harry said. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Ginny said.

"But what does this have to do with You-Know-Who, Albus?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"The bond between Harry and Ginny is very special," Dumbledore said, drawing a chair in mid-air with his wand. A squashy purple armchair appeared, and Dumbledore sank into it with a satisfied sigh. "Anyone else? No? Very well.

"Harry and Ginny have, as I mentioned, saved one another's lives. They have also faced Voldemort, they have fought him, and they have walked away. In this they are unique. Every other person who has faced Voldemort has died. It is that simple. And of course there is another reason that Harry and Ginny have this unique bond."

Dumbledore left the statement hanging. Harry ignored it.

"So you're saying that because of this bond, I don't see what Voldemort does?"

"I believe that this is so," Dumbledore said. "It appears that Ginny sees a little of what you see, feels a little of what you feel, and vice versa. Apparently this bond, strengthened by your constant close proximity to one another while here at Hogwarts, is interfering with your link to Voldemort, who is rather further away. It is the reason, I believe, that both yourself and Miss Weasley has been sleeping poorly on the nights when there have been attacks. While you no longer have dreams where you see Voldemort's wishes and desires, both of you are suffering the disruptive effects of his anger and hatred."

"Isn't there some way we can block it?" Harry asked, getting to his feet and leaning forward on Dumbledore's desk. It was obvious to everyone in the room that Harry was shaking, and barely able to stand, but no one wanted to go to him. His wand was clenched in one hand, and it was glowing brightly enough that the other light sources in the room seemed dim and pale by comparison.

"I'm sorry, block what?" Dumbledore asked.

"This thing with Ginny," Harry said. "I don't want people in my head. Bad enough that Voldemort kept coming in uninvited, at least what I see in my dreams can help us. If Ginny is stopping me seeing those dreams, we should try and stop that. Besides," he said, his voice dropping to an almost inaudible level. "I don't want anyone else in my head."

Harry's tone had been flat and tired, but Ron knew that he might as well have just yelled at Ginny and slapped her. She flushed pink, whether from embarrassment or anger Ron couldn't tell, but he knew that she was upset.

"You make it sound," she said, "as though I want to be connected to you. Nothing could be further from the truth."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ginny moved away from Harry to stand beside Hermione, who smiled weakly at her. Ginny stood turned away from Harry, her arms folded tightly across her ribs, her cheeks a bright red that betrayed, Ron realised, both anger and unhappiness.

Mrs. Weasley broke the silence.

"Well, Albus, Ginny and Harry don't want this bond. Can anything be done to break it?"

Dumbledore seemed lost in thought, turning his head to look first at Ginny, then Harry, then back once more at Ginny. Only when Mr. Weasley repeated the question did Dumbledore look up.

"Sorry," he said. "When you reach my age, you sometimes find that your memories can be..." He looked from Harry to Ginny once more, and the corners of his moustache twitched slightly. "Breaking the bond? Well, it would be possible for Ginny to learn how to close her mind to it, but breaking the bond itself is almost impossible. Certainly it would not be a bad thing for Ginny to learn, though, if only to prevent her feeling what she did earlier tonight."

"What did y- What did she feel?" Harry asked.

"She felt you being tortured, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "When Aptar Quayle placed you under the Cruciatus curse, Miss Weasley could feel part of the pain you were experiencing."

Harry sank back into Dumbledore's chair and looked guiltily at Ginny.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You shouldn't have to feel this. I'm the one that Voldemort is after."

Ginny didn't say anything, didn't even acknowledge that Harry had said anything.

"Miss Weasley, I shall contact you tomorrow about studying how to control the bond. Molly, Arthur, if you'd join the rest of the Order? Harry, please stay a little while longer. The rest of you, it is late. Miss Weasley, if you feel any further ill effects from tonight, do not hesitate to go to Madam Pomfrey."

Ginny, Hermione and Ron shuffled out of the office, collecting their gold discs on the way. Hermione paused for one last look around the room before pulling the door shut. Molly and Arthur nodded impersonally to Harry before going into the classroom.

Harry and Dumbledore were left alone, except for Fawkes and the unconscious forms of Quayle and Green.

"Another busy night, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"There's a lot that I don't understand," Harry said.

"Always a difficult admission to make. Anything in particular?"

"Everything," Harry said.

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps you could be a bit more specific?"

"I don't understand why I couldn't do magic for five months, why I have this bond with Ginny, why my wand is glowing, how I could beat two dark wizards..." Harry tailed off. "I don't understand why people keep getting dragged along with me when all I want to do is be alone. Ginny, Ron and Hermione shouldn't have to go through this. They're in Voldemort's way again, even though I've tried so hard to make them give up on me."

Dumbledore smiled slightly.

"I find it interesting that at much the same time, yourself and Draco Malfoy have made efforts to distance yourselves from people who have long been your friends," he said. "Mr. Malfoy has changed houses and avoided all contact with his former housemates. You have stayed in Gryffindor and continued to act in much the same way as you always have done. It has been much harder for your former friends to give up on you then it has for Mr. Malfoy's friends to give up on him, simply because he seems much more serious about it. It says a great deal about you and your friends that they are still prepared to stand by you, even when you have tried so hard to push them away."

Harry said nothing, and Dumbledore let the silence continue for several minutes.

"As for your other questions, the reason you were able to defeat Voldemort's followers is the same reason that your wand is glowing. After five months of holding back, you have cast a number of spells, and your body is burning off the excess of stored magic that it has been building up. Part of that is the constant illumination of your wand. I would think that you will return to normal in a few days, when your magical power has returned to normal levels. You may find in the meantime that the spells you cast may be rather more powerful in the meantime, so do be careful. Normally your power depletes quite naturally, even during your school holidays you will burn off some of this energy, simply by walking around, breathing and so on. It is something that every wizard does, quite naturally.

"In your case, the only times in the last five months when you have tapped into your personal store of energy, other than creating the odd spark with your wand, was when you fought the Boggart, and when you flew in your match against Hufflepuff. The latter, I am certain, was an entirely subconscious use of your magic, doubtless tied to your wanting to save your friends. The former..."

Dumbledore's beard twitched slightly, and Harry though that he might have been smiling slightly.

"The former, your encounter with the Boggart, well, why don't you tell me what you think happened?"

Harry nodded, and said "When I saw the Boggart it... It wasn't a Dementor. I wasn't ready for it, and I panicked. I blacked out, but why didn't it kill me?"

"Harry, your blacking out was due to your instinctive release of all of your magical energy. It can be done deliberately, although very rarely. In most cases it is fatal. Alastor will tell you, I am sure, of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, brothers who were ambushed by five Death Eaters and who fought to the last, before expelling their combined energy in one blast that took out themselves and their attackers. A desperation measure, but their sacrifice was quite vital. It allowed us to save an entire family, nearly a dozen people, from those five Death Eaters."

"Why did I survive, then?" Harry asked quietly.

"For a number of reasons, not least because by Halloween last year you were quite exhausted and you were already drawing on those supplies of magic to keep going. Now your store has been replenished, and you are ready to begin practical lessons once more. Professor McGonagall, as I believe I have already mentioned, will be delighted."

"I can fight again," Harry said.

Dumbledore looked up. "Fight?"

"Yeah. I can cast spells, and that means I can fight. I'm going to have to face him, aren't I? When it comes down to it, you've said he's coming for me, that he wants to kill me. Eventually, it's going to be him and me."

"We will try our best to ensure that doesn't happen," Dumbledore said.

"But you can't guarantee that it won't," Harry said quietly. "So I have to be ready. And if that means that I have to be even harder on Ron and the others to get them to give up on me, then that's fine. I'm not going to let him get anyone. Not if I can help it."

Dumbledore sighed, and nodded.

"Harry, you must make the choices you feel are best. I will not interfere. However, please remember that I am always here, should you wish to talk about anything, regardless of how important it may be when it comes to defeating Voldemort."

Harry nodded, and got shakily to his feet. He made for the door out of Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster stopped him.

"Harry," he said, holding up the last golden disc. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Harry looked at the disc, and then his gaze met Dumbledore's.

"No," he said. "I told you. I'm not going to put anyone else at risk because Voldemort's after me. And that includes members of the Order."

With that, he was gone. Dumbledore sat in his squashy armchair for a long time, peering at Fawkes over his steepled fingers, before sighing heavily.

"It appears that drastic measures will be required, Fawkes," he said at last. Fawkes trilled melodiously in reply, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well, you are right of course."

He rose, and summoned a quill and parchment, which hovered in midair as he dictated a short note that then fastened itself to Fawkes' leg.

"You know who to go to?" Dumbledore asked.

Fawkes cooed indignantly in reply.

"Forgive me," Dumbledore said. "But this is important. Regardless of what I have just said to Mr. Potter, I am perfectly prepared to interfere. It appears that there is only one person capable of talking sense to him, however, and it must be done at the earliest opportunity."

*

Harry's magical return to lessons had been something of a mixed bag. Defence Against the Dark Arts had been his first practical magical lesson, and all that had consisted of had been casting the Gladius spell. Charms the following day, however, had seen Harry overdoing the Sonorus charm he had been practising on a small mouse, leaving everyone in the class unable to do anything but shout incredibly loudly until Professor Flitwick was able to go around, casting the Quietus charm on them one by one. Even Hermione had been unable to counter the spell, so much power had Harry put behind it.

He spent the weekend in the library, accepting responsibility for researching the Temple of Le Fay as all of the Ministry's workers were being interviewed by Moody and Diggle, and banned from leaving their quarters until cleared. Hermione came in several times, and took out a number of books on Le Fay and Arthurian legend. Harry felt odd that she was continuing to help him, even after all he had done to push her and everyone else away.

Outside of the library, he tried frantically to bring his magic under control. He was six months out of practise, and it appeared that Dumbledore had been right. It would take time for him to regain control, and he also had a great deal of excess power stored up. He tried to float a feather in an attempt to regain some measure of fine control, but he made it explode instead. His wand glowed particularly brightly as he twiddled it despairingly between his fingers that evening, staring into the common room fire as he consciously restrained himself from performing any more magic.

Transfiguration the next day was, if nothing else, interesting. Rather than de-aging the tomcat that he, Goyle and Terry Boot had been assigned, Harry managed to devolve it into a sabre-toothed tiger. Fortunately, the tiger had been every bit as surprised as anyone else by the turn of events, and McGonagall had been able to transfigure it into a carriage clock until Hagrid could be summoned to take care of it.

*

Fortunately for Harry, Quidditch practise had been better then he had expected, especially given that Ginny wasn't talking to him and Dean was still trying to convince him to apologise to her. Ron, for his part, was torn between his delight at having his Seeker back and his anger at the way Harry had treated his sister.

The team, despite all the internal friction, flew much better then they had done in a long time. Harry, for whom Quidditch practise had long been reduced to running and weight training, revelled in the opportunity to fly on his Firebolt. He caught the Snitch every time Ron released it, including one spectacular capture where he seized it from between Seamus' bat and a Bludger a split second before they connected.

Spurred on by Harry's return to action, the team flew as well as they ever had. Even Ron, who was a very demanding captain, could barely fault their performance, other than Ginny fumbling a Quaffle when Harry swooped directly at her.

*

Harry's return to teaching at the Dueling Club was even more satisfying, for Harry at least. Draco Malfoy had run up to him at the start of the session and wrung his hand on hearing that Harry would be teaching again, which had momentarily unsettled Harry for reasons he was unable to pinpoint precisely. Professor Dumbledore consented to creating a Dementor, as he had done when teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts the year before. Harry had waited until the end of the session before signalling for the Dementor, which swooped around the Great Hall for several minutes, spreading fear and discord throughout.

Dumbledore looked curiously at Harry, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, clearly unwilling to do anything to stop the Dementor. Only Eloise Midgen was able to overcome her surprise and conjure a Patronus to hold it at bay, but before Eloise's Patronus could attack the Dementor, Harry conjured a Patronus that exploded from the tip of his own, glowing wand and ripped through the Dementor without slowing. The silver stag seemed far larger than before, and much more sharply defined. It shone brightly in the light of the hundreds of candles that hovered above the heads of the students.

Harry's students looked up at the stag with a mixture of awe and trepidation on their faces. Few of them could produce more than an indistinct Patronus, and they certainly couldn't keep projecting it the way Harry was doing, with the stag posing regally above them as though it were a statue. None of them had been ready for the surprise arrival of the Dementor. Many of them were surprised by the effect that it had had on them, and vowed to work much harder on their Patronus at future lessons.

Harry then rounded off the session by agreeing to a duel with Dean. Barely had they conjured their Gladius, however, when Harry yelled "Expelliarmus!" and Dean's sword was cast from his hand.

"Sometimes your opponent will cheat," Harry said, his face set in a blank expression which made Dean's brow knit together slightly. As well as feeling slightly chagrined by his quick loss to Harry, he was wondering exactly how Harry had managed to conjure his Patronus when it seemed that Harry wasn't thinking happy thoughts right now.

*

Over the next few days, the number of people signing up for Harry's study sessions grew significantly. Harry proved to be a hard taskmaster, however, ruthless in his treatment of anyone who failed to keep up.

"I can do it," he snapped at Dennis Creevey one night as the younger boy struggled with the Summoning charm. "It's not difficult."

Dennis looked horrified, and he and his brother returned to their work with great ferocity. The results were less than impressive, however, as Dennis only succeeded in banishing Colin halfway across the room.

"Yeah, not bad," Harry said evenly. "Plenty of power, shame it was the completely wrong spell!"

Dennis' embarrassment was heightened as everyone turned to look at him, glad that they weren't on the receiving end of Harry's scorn.

When the session ended, Harry stayed behind to tidy up. After a few minutes, Cho appeared at the door and walked in, shutting the door behind her and leaning on it.

"I can move you from there if you're just trying to keep me here," Harry said without turning.

"I don't want to keep you, Harry," she said. "Just talk to you."

Harry sighed. "What about, Cho?" he asked as he turned to face her.

"Why you've been avoiding me for months?" Cho suggested. "Why you're now trying to alienate everyone in the school, rather than just the people you think care for you? Your friends miss you, did you know that? They say that it's not the same without you around, that there's something missing. Why are you still doing this?"

"You know why," Harry said, his shoulders sagging. "Voldemort is out to get me, Cho. He killed my whole family, he killed them because he hated them. Do you know how many times he's tried to kill me? Five times! No one else has avoided him for so long, and one day my number will be up. But until then, he'll get angrier and angrier, try harder and harder to get me, and he'll kill people I know! The only way I can think of to protect them is to make them hate me, because if they're not my friends, if they hate me, if Voldemort and the Death Eaters don't see them as a way to get to me... then they won't be as much of a target," he said. "And I won't have to worry about fighting people I care about," he added, in a much quieter tone.

Cho looked at Harry for several long moments before replying.

"The Sorting Hat didn't want you to go into Ravenclaw, did it, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked. "No, it didn't, why?"

"Because you've clearly got much more bravery than brains."

"Look-" Harry began, suddenly angry.

"No, you look," Cho said, suddenly furious. Harry backed away a couple of steps. "How dare you be so pig-headed, so stubborn, so bloody arrogant, that you can dare think that everything in the world comes down to you. I lost Cedric to Voldemort, but not because he was your friend, Harry. Not because Voldemort thought for a second that it would hurt you to see him die. Voldemort killed him because he didn't want him alive anymore. That's why he kills people, Harry. He's not playing some great game of chess where you and him are the kings and everyone else are pawns. He's just a nasty, vicious, horrible bastard who kills anyone in his way. Think about the people who've died this year, Harry. Did you know any of them? One of them lived in the same town as you, for God's sake."

Cho was breathing heavily, her cheeks pink, her body shaking.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Cho held up her hand.

"Don't say it."

Harry frowned, but pushed on. "You're wrong-"

But Cho had already thrown her hands up in the air. Seething with frustration, she stormed out of the classroom, leaving Harry all alone.

"She's wrong," he said eventually, when it was clear that she wasn't coming back. "She has to be wrong. She just has to be."

*

The following evening, Harry was on his way to dinner when he saw Moody and Diggle heading towards the entrance doors.

"Professor Moody!" he called out, pushing past a group of third-year Hufflepuffs.

Moody and Diggle turned around, Moody with a half frown on his scarred face.

"How many times am I going to have to say this today? You of all people should know, Potter. I wasn't your teacher!"

"Yeah, whatever," Harry said. "Have you finished questioning the Ministry wizards?"

Diggle and Moody exchanged glances, then each grabbed one of Harry's arms and carried him to a nearby secluded corridor.

"Potter," Moody growled, "Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, very highly indeed. But you've got a great deal to learn, lad."

"I believe that what Alastor is trying to say is that we don't discuss criminal cases where we can be overheard. You might take a tip from that Ron Weasley lad. Good head for secrecy on him. He'll make a fine Auror one day, if I can convince him away from a life of professional Quidditch," Diggle added with a smile.

"Right," Harry said, ignoring what Diggle had said. "But have you finished then?"

Moody and Diggle exchanged another glance, and Harry tensed himself, but Diggle shook his head.

"No, not yet. We have the esteemed Mr. Lockhart left to speak to."

Moody snorted. Harry looked at him questioningly.

"You don't think he's involved, do you?" Harry asked.

"If that poor excuse for a criminal is part of You-Know-Who's forces, then this war will be easier than I thought. No, Potter, Gilderoy Lockhart isn't part of this, but he still got away with conning people. He should be behind bars."

Dedalus smiled tolerantly. "His books were very entertaining, Alastor, if somewhat misleading. There are more important things for us to concern ourselves with these days."

Moody grunted in a non-committal way.

"What have you found out?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, Dumbledore said that you'd be asking questions, Potter," Moody growled. "I suppose we can tell you something. Most of the Ministry employees have links to what Dedalus here calls subversive elements and what I call gangs of trainee Death Eaters. They've been carrying out a lot of the attacks over the last year. If they succeeded, they got experience. If they failed, You-Know-Who didn't lose anyone important. We reckon quite a few of this lot who were supposed to be here working for the Ministry were actually feeding info to Voldemort. Quayle picked everyone on the team, apart from that idiot Lockhart. The ones who ain't dark are stupid, probably the ones Lockhart got stuck working with."

"So we're no nearer to finding out the truth about the Temple of Le Fay?" Harry asked.

Diggle and Moody shook their heads gravely.

"Then do we know anything about where Voldemort is hiding?" Harry asked. "You came from somewhere the day we saw you in Diagon Alley," he said, pointing at Diggle. "Where?"

Moody scowled at Harry.

"Just because you're part of the Order, doesn't mean we can tell you everything, Potter," he growled. "Information remains compartmentalised until such time as we decided to make it more widely known."

"But what if you know something and don't realise?" Harry asked. "I've seen where he's hiding, I might recognise something, might make a connection that someone else might not."

"And if we tell you, and you get captured, what then?" Diggle asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

"I won't," Harry said coldly.

"Potter, you can't do everything," Moody growled quietly. "You've got school to finish, you've got a life to live-"

"I've got a mass murdering wizard on my trail who enjoys torturing people and kills for fun," Harry finished. "Anyway, who says I can't do everything? I'm doing well so far. My marks are up a lot this year because I've been trying a lot harder. I'm going to be ready when I face him, but I need to know where he is before that happens."

Moody's scowl deepened, while Diggle looked reflective.

"If you're that certain you can do something to help, then try doing more research on Morgan Le Fay," Moody said. "Lockhart'll need all the help he can get. I don't imagine Fudge'll be sending anyone else to help him out. Besides, it's your hide he's working to save, Potter. You might put in some effort from time to time."

The two men walked off, leaving Harry scowling at their backs.

*

"Dean, do you have a moment?"

Dean looked up from his toad-in-the-hole to see Cho standing before him, biting her lip.

"Sure," he said, setting his fork down.

"Somewhere private?" she added.

Dean was uncomfortably aware of Seamus, sitting opposite him and grinning and winking like a lunatic.

"Yeah, 'course," he said, getting up.

They found a secluded corridor off to one side of the entrance hall. Cho looked nervous about something, but Dean wasn't sure what.

"Did you speak to Harry?" she said.

"I tried," he said. "Several times. He's a stubborn bloke."

"Yeah, he is. He's so stubborn he won't admit it when everything tells him he's wrong."

"Yeah, but he's dead set on his 'way', isn't he? He's convinced that he's right, everyone else is wrong-"

"He's an idiot!" Cho said forcefully. "You want to know why he's doing this? Last Halloween he fought a Boggart that showed him his worst fear. It's not Dementors, it's being abandoned, having everyone give up on him and join Voldemort. That's Harry Potter's great reason for being a ruddy idiot for the last six months; He doesn't want to be hurt if people give up on him!"

"That's it?" Dean asked incredulously.

"That's it, oh, but you can't say anything," Cho said, her eyes widening, as she clapped her hands to her mouth. "He'd go mad if he knew that I told anyone."

Dean scratched the back of his head meditatively. "Well, it gives me something to work with, but I won't say anything outright," he said.

"Thank you," Cho said.

"No, thank you," Dean said. "This'll help Ginny a lot, I hope."

"You really like her, don't you?" Cho said.

"Nowhere near as much as she likes Harry," he replied with a rueful grin. "They're both my friends, they're both miserable without each other... Ron and Hermione have tried everything they can think of to sort this out. I guess I have to do something. They're right for each other, you know? They shouldn't be apart because of some stupid reason like this."

Dean stopped. Cho was looking at him with a faraway expression.

"What?" he said, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks in slight embarrassment.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I have to go. I'll speak to you soon."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said to her back as she walked quickly away.

*

Dear Harry,

How are you? Sorry I haven't written for a while, but it's fun dictating to old Mooney. He's a quick scribbler, and much neater than your old godfather.

I'm feeling a lot better; Almost ready to be up and about. Soon I'll be dropping past Hogsmeade. Sorry it's been so long since we caught up, but poison spells are a pain in the all-over, and I haven't really been up to Apparating much of late. Still, soon.

And probably about time. Unless Remus isn't telling me something, you and Ginny have been together more than a year now. I think it's time we had a little talk. If you've been reading the Manual, then you'll have a good idea of what you'll want.

And what Ginny'll want.

Still, there's stuff we didn't put in there. Stuff we learnt later on. Stuff you could do with learning...

Harry screwed up the letter, and chucked it into his trunk. He didn't know what Remus was playing at.

Why didn't he tell Sirius? It's been six months! Does he think that Sirius can convince me to change my mind?

Harry sat on his bed, scowling at nothing. Gryffindor were playing Ravenclaw the next day, and he needed to focus. He needed peace and quiet and calm.

He didn't need to feel guilty about not writing to Sirius.

*

Lucius stared across the table at his lawyer.

"You passed the envelopes to their intended recipients."

"In person. And I took the liberty of leaving before they were opened. I imagine that the contents were deeply personal and of a highly private nature," he said smoothly.

"You imagine correctly. And wisely," Malfoy said.

The lawyer smiled a perfect white smile as he smoothed his impeccable hair. "Well, the trial will begin on schedule. I am confident it shall take no more than two days. You shall be a free man before very long, Mr. Malfoy."

"I am as confident of that as I have ever been," Malfoy said.

"Unless there is anything else?" the lawyer asked, standing up and closing his briefcase with a snap.

"Nothing," Lucius said evenly.

"Very well, sir," the lawyer said. "Then I shall see you on Tuesday the twentieth in the courtroom."

"I look forward to the end of the trial," Lucius said.

"All my clients do, sir," the lawyer preened. He hadn't lost a case in eight years.

"Yes, I suppose you might have a say in the verdict," Lucius said confidently.

To be continued...