Harry Potter and the Horcrux Quest

Chapter 10: The Day After

Severus Snape walked through the old farmhouse that they were using as a base and entered the living room which currently was the thrown room. With all the Aurors out hunting for them, they knew better than to stay more than a few days in any one place. There were some new recruits out all the time looking for more locations. One thing about not having a permanent location was there was no dungeon. After the way the master was last night, he was sure he'd have some dead bodies to pick up. But no, they had all survived. The ones who lost the Dementors would start the hunt later today while others had been assigned to hunt down Draco. He cast Mobilcorpus on the recipients of the master's anger and dropped most of them in the dining room. After telling the elf in the kitchen to get someone with healing skill to look after them, he took the last victim and left the house. A few hundred feet away from the house, outside of the Anti-Apparition ward, he Apportated both of them to his own place. Entering, he put the woman's body on the couch and then disappeared upstairs. After awhile he came back with several potions which he helped the unconscious woman to drink and then sat in an armchair to wait, finally dozing off.

He was woken by a knock on the door. He got up and answered it. Bellatrix Lestrange entered. She looked at her sister lying on the couch.

"I thought I'd find her here. You're taking a big risk," she said.

"I don't think so. She's been punished. The master knows she didn't have any idea that Draco was going to disappear. She should be healed up. She can then be used by the master again."

"But you. He'll become suspicious. You've done too much for her already."

"Yet I am still bound by the vow. I have to find some way to protect Draco from harm while he does the Master's bidding. I very much doubt that he was foolish enough to try to run from the Master. He never said anything like that to me. No, I believe that he's dead or captured. If the latter then I'll have to rescue him somehow. I greatly regret this vow. The wording wasn't specific enough. I'm bound forever to protect him."

Bella snorted. "Well, if he's captured, I'll try to help you. No guarantees. The Master may not want him rescued."

"True. We'll just have to see."

An owl knocked at the window. He got up and retrieved his copy of the Daily Prophet. He looked it over. No news of last night's activity. He didn't realize it then, but all regular subscribers were getting the same paper. In a short time, however, there would be a special edition. What the special edition wouldn't report was that it got its information from The Quibbler.

It was still early when Harry woke and went down towards the Burrow's kitchen. The Veela induced sleep was exactly that -- just sleep. His dreams had been magically calmed by Zelda, but when morning came, he woke at his normal, early time. He found Luna in the living room. She had borrowed one of Ginny's Hogwarts robes and was sitting on the couch. She was taller than Ginny, and one of her legs stuck out from under it. Harry noticed it was bare. The thought flashed in his brain that she probably wasn't wearing much of anything under the robe, but then he drove it from his mind. She looked like she had been crying. She wiped her face and gave Harry a dreamy smile.

"Good morning, Harry."

"'Morning Luna. Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just didn't sleep well last night. I was worried about my father."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry I woke you last night. My dorm mates got familiar with that problem in my fifth year."

They were interrupted by an owl at the window. Luna recognized one of The Quibbler's delivery owls. It was a special edition. She looked at it with what Harry thought would be shock. With Luna's normal expression that made her always look surprised, he wasn't totally sure. He looked over her shoulder and read.

Tragedy and Triumph at Wedding

Last night at the wedding of Bill Weasley (former head boy at Hogwarts) and Fleur Delacour (the Beaubaxton's champion at the Triwizard Tournament three years ago), He Who Must Not Be Named attacked with the Dementors of Azkaban, who abandoned their posts over a year ago. Over twenty of the guests were kissed, including the fathers of both the bride and the groom.

They read on about the attack, and the brave but hopeless battle. Luna's father poured it on thick, emphasizing the inevitable conclusion that should have followed. Then he gave the surprise ending. He described the method used to destroy the Dementors. He was the first to use the phrase "undigested happiness." He reported the death of the commonly held belief that the destruction of the Dementor would allow the soul to return to its body. Harry was quite impressed with the reporting. Nothing but the facts, and most names, including his, left out. Neville's name was left out, even though the description of how a Hogwart's student discovered the method of killing them was so accurate, that Harry had to assume that Mr. Lovegood was right in the area. He finished the article -- the only one in the special edition, and noticed that Luna had turned away, and her shoulders were shaking. He turned her around towards him and saw that she was crying.

"Luna?"

"He left me. He left me to go to work. He didn't even say anything." She broke down and cried, hugging Harry as he awkwardly held her.

Fleur's mother was the next person up. She found Harry holding the crying girl, and gently took her from him. Harry left Luna with the half-Veela and finally arrived at the kitchen. The first thing he did was make tea, and brought it out for Luna and Mrs. Delacour. They had been joined by Fleur's grandmother, and the three were talking in French. Luna looked better, but still not good. Harry got to work fixing breakfast.

Percy showed up at the fireplace. He was only staying for a few minutes to talk to his family. He skipped tea but did eat some eggs Harry cooked. After he ate, he brought his plate in from the dining room, and stood in the kitchen awkwardly.

"Harry," he began. Harry noticed that Percy didn't look at him.

"Yes, Percy? Do you want more?"

"No thank you. I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry for the way the Ministry treated you. And I'm sorry for how I was part of it. And I'm sorry for believing it."

"It's alright, Percy. And thanks. It takes a Gryffindor to admit they were wrong." He held out his hand to Percy, who hesitated a moment, then shook it with enthusiasm.

Others started coming down to the dining room. Charlie and Neville were surprised when they found Harry in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Neville had been woken by an owl bringing a letter from his uncle Algie. His grandmother's will would be read that evening, and he had to be there. He looked lost, and muttered that he didn't even know what happened to his grandmother's body.

Hermione, Ginny, and Gabrielle were the next group down. Hermione had stopped at Ron's room to wake him up -- he'd have slept until noon otherwise. Ginny was surprised that it wasn't her mother making breakfast, and more surprised that Harry knew his way around a kitchen. Her brothers wouldn't go in there unless they were raiding the ice box or forced to help their mother.

Mrs. Delacour suggested that someone get Molly up, so Charlie and Ginny went to do that. A very short time later, the Weasley matron appeared, and frittered about, complaining about how awful it was that she had ignored her guests. She thanked Harry profusely for making breakfast, but tried to shoo him out of the kitchen so that she could do it. It took Charlie and Ginny together to get her to calm down and accept that no one felt abandoned, and no one was upset that she slept in. They got her to sit down and eat some breakfast, and she slowly relaxed. Mrs. Delacour sat next to her in the dining room, and they talked quietly for a while. Harry found them crying in each others arms when he stopped in to get the dishes. He left them alone.

Gabrielle was subdued this morning, and sat quietly for the most part, holding her grandmother's hand. She gave Harry a small smile as he stopped in the living room.

Harry told Charlie, Ron, and Ginny that George hadn't eaten yet, and they went off to check on their brother. He spoke quietly to Hermione about Neville's letter, and suggested they drive him home. She agreed, as long as they could find where he lived.

The French guests collected their luggage after breakfast, and left soon after. Gabrielle gave Harry a big hug, and left teary-eyed. Mrs. Delacour thanked everyone for their hospitality and support, and hugged Molly, which caused the two to break down again. Zelda spoke to Luna, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She then gave Harry a kiss on each cheek. Harry noticed Luna looking very uncomfortable, again. He could guess what the old Veela had said to her.

Zelda turned to Harry and surprised him by speaking in heavily accented English. "Be careful. And do not be like Paladin."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Paladin," Hermione answered, in her lecture voice. "One of the companions of Roland, who gave their lives to save France."

Fleur's mother smiled and said, "I suppose you shouldn't be like him, too. But Zelda's talking about the hero of the Western show on the wireless, Have Gun, Will Travel. The hero, named Paladin, always rides away alone; he never keeps the girl he saved."

Everyone under 40 looked confused.

After the goodbyes, the French members of the extended family portkeyed home.

Draco woke up. He realized that he was strapped to a chair in a small, mostly empty room. As he became more awake, he remembered where he was -- somewhere in the Ministry, in an interrogation room. He had the feeling he had been here for several hours. He was sitting in his underwear, and there was no way to escape. He had no wand, no emergency portkey, and worst of all -- no working legs. Whatever ward that had thrown him back had landed him on a rock, and his back was broken. The bones were easily fixed, but the nerves connecting to his legs weren't healed. He guessed that from the Aurors point of view it was a fortunate event, and they were taking advantage of it as just an extra anti-escape device. He cursed them in his mind. His earlier, out loud curses hadn't gotten him anything except a slap across the face.

Then his interrogator came in, carrying the bottle of Veritaserum . He railed internally -- he was too worn down to do much of anything physically anymore. They kept going over the same questions with different wording -- trying to wring every bit of information out of him. He kept hoping for a rescue, but knew that was unlikely. He wasn't important enough to rescue. And even if he was, his answers, even under Veritaserum, would constitute a betrayal. He was doomed if they did rescue him. Maybe he could work out some sort of deal?

As lunch time approached, Molly kicked everyone out of the kitchen. She was going to make dinner and no one was going to get in her way. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had packed and loaded the car. They would leave after lunch with Luna and Neville, dropping Luna off at her house on the other side of town. Ginny was upset that she wasn't going.

Neville sat next to Ginny on the living room couch.

"How are you doing, Ginny?"

"Alright, I guess," she said. She took a deep breath, and let it out. "Actually, not alright. I'm mad as hell. I'm mad at Ron, Hermione, and especially Harry for leaving me. I'm mad at Vol...Vol...You-Know-Who for what he did to my family. I'm mad at Fleur and her whole family for being snobs and pests. I'm mad at Bill for marrying her. I'm mad at Mum for keeping me here. I'm mad at Dad for leaving. I'm mad at Luna for inane conversation last night. I'm mad at Ron for having a job guarding Harry. I'm mad at Harry because he doesn't want to get back together. I'm mad at Luna because she and Harry had a good time at the wedding. I'm mad at me for being so mad at everyone, and it's probably not their fault." She broke down and started sobbing. Neville awkwardly put his arms around her, and she cried on his shoulder for a while. Eventually the sobs stopped, and she composed herself.

"I'm sorry...." she began.

"Shhhh. Don't. You don't have to apologize for how you're feeling. I just hope you feel a little better now."

"I do. A little. Thank you." She surprised Neville by giving him a hug, which he returned after only a moments hesitation.

Harry, meanwhile, had sought out Charlie. Charlie was walking around the grounds, trying to check the wards. There were still Aurors around, keeping the house safe. The last few hours had seen them get busy, and now they were turning away reporters. Harry spent some time with Charley, learning about wards. He found that during his fourth summer, after Voldemort was resurrected, that the Weasleys had spent a lot of time warding their property. That was why Harry had to spend so much time at the Dursleys, the wards weren't ready. Even after they were done, Dumbledore didn't think they were strong enough, so the family essentially abandoned the Burrow and moved to Grimmauld Place. After learning what he could about wards and their detection, Harry got to the real question -- who was secret keeper of twelve Grimmauld Place?

"Professor McGonagall."

Charlie laughed at Harry's shocked expression.

"She is still the secretary of the Order, and not being a field operative, there's little chance she might be compromised. Also, very few people know she's the secret keeper, so we'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone."

"Uh -- sure. Nothing personal, but if her being the secret keeper is a secret, why do you know?"

Charlie chuckled. "Two reasons. I helped Bill after he cast the spell, so I had to be there and saw who was designated secret keeper. And, with Bill busy, and now away, I'm helping with getting people into Headquarters. I'm helping keep the Headmistress' involvement in this secret. I'll floo her in a little while and make sure you all know how to get in."

"Alright. Another question -- why are you telling me?"

"Besides it being your house, Minerva thought you shouldn't be kept in the dark. She still wants you to join, and she doesn't want too much secrecy to be a stumbling block for you."

Harry nodded, and left Charlie to get the permissions.

A short time later everyone was in the dining room for lunch, except George. He still hadn't come out of his room. They were quietly eating. Everyone was watching Molly, a little afraid of what might happen if something upset her. She seemed normal, though.

Suddenly, Luna grabbed her wand from behind her ear, aimed it towards the kitchen, and said, "Petrificus Totalus." She then replaced the wand behind her ear.

Everyone looked at her in shock.

"Charlie, I think your brother was going to do something unwise. If I was wrong, can you please apologize for me? I'd do it myself, but he looked like he would have taken on a dragon bare handed when he grabbed the floo power. I thought it best to hex first, and ask questions later."

As she was speaking, Molly and Charlie got up from their places, and raced into the kitchen. They found George leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, stiff as a board. Charlie put the floo powder out of reach, and ended the hex. Luna was right. He was ready to fight a dragon, and tried to push against his older brother. Charlie tried to restrain his brother without getting into an actual fight, but George wasn't as interested in keeping it non-violent. The others diners were moving into the small kitchen. Molly was trying to get George to calm down, Charlie was trying to just stay in George's way, Ron was asking George what he thought he was doing, Ginny joined her mother in telling George to calm down, and Harry looked on, unsure of what to do, but sure that everything else being done was just making George angrier.

Suddenly there was an explosion. Everyone stopped talking, and looked around. Luna was holding up her wand, smoke still drifting from the end.

"George, even if you could do what you're thinking of, it won't help. But you can't, so talk to Harry and help him help you get revenge." Then she walked back to the dining room.

People started looking at each other with puzzled expressions. George moved away from the fireplace, which Charlie allowed. He stormed into the dining room, and grabbed Luna by the shoulders.

"What do you know about it?" he shouted. She looked at him, as calm as she usually was.

"When my mother died, I was very upset, and destroyed several things that she had given me, including a doll she had made for me. Eventually I came back to myself, and I no longer had my doll, and I still didn't have my mother. No matter what you do, you can't bring him back."

"But it will make me feel a lot better!"

"No, it won't, because you can't do it. Only Harry can."

"What do you mean, only Harry can?" George had calmed down enough to sound almost normal.

"LUNA!" Hermione yelled at the same time.

Luna looked at Harry and addressed him. "You said that Voldemort knew this part. I thought you'd want George to know, before he tried to do something impossible and get himself killed."

Harry looked at her, baffled. George looked at Harry. Everyone else looked between the three. Harry gave a big sigh.

"She's right, George. If you were going after Voldemort, you wouldn't have a chance. According to the prophesy, I'm the one with the power to kill him."

The Weasleys who hadn't heard this before just stared at him. Harry got everyone to sit down. He explained how Dumbledore told him the prophesy, and how he had to kill Voldemort, but that he didn't know how, yet. He didn't tell them the exact wording, but only what he figured Voldemort already knew.

"No wonder Dumbledore had the Order watching you," Charlie said.

"And they should still be watching you!" Molly added.

Harry looked down and said, "Except I don't want them to. I don't trust them all."

"But you have to trust them, Harry dear. They wouldn't be in the Order if they weren't trustworthy."

Harry looked at her, and said, angrily, "Snape was in the Order. Pettigrew was in the Order! I don't know if there are other spies in the Order, but I don't want to find out!"

Molly looked shocked. Then she slumped a little, and nodded.

"You--" Harry indicated everyone in the room, "--and Bill, and Remus, and Tonks, and a few others I trust. But there are some things I have to do now, and I don't want anyone finding out. The fewer people who know, the better.

"And yes, Luna, you're right. I don't want George to do something dumb and get himself killed. George, I love you like a brother. And I loved Fred like one, too. We lost Fred, and we'll get our revenge, but it won't be by making empty, suicidal gestures. When we strike, I want us to walk away, and them to die. George, help me. Don't become someone I have to avenge, too."

George just nodded, and looked down. Tears started running down his cheeks. Molly went over to him and hugged him, and he cried.

Later, after those who had appetites had eaten, Harry explained something he wanted everyone to think about. "In the end, I'll have to face Voldemort. I want to face him somewhere of my choosing. So, I'd like suggestions on how to get him there, how to handle any Death Eaters he brings along, where there is, and any helpful thoughts on how to help me survive." He ended with a smile.

"Oh, and Mrs. Weasley? Please, please don't tell anyone about what you learned today. I'll be contacting those members of the Order that I think I can trust, and telling them what they need to know."

Molly agreed with a nod. Harry did take George aside and talk to him for a few minutes, and when they broke apart, George had that look on his face that he used to have when he and Fred were preparing a prank.

Soon after, five teens said their goodbyes, and got in Hermione's car. Before they left Charlie showed everyone a piece of paper that had the address of Harry's house on it. He had fire talked with the Headmistress and gotten permission to give them the address of their headquarters. He didn't have to tell them to keep it secret -- they couldn't tell even if they wanted to.

Just before they left, George came up, and thanked Luna for stopping him from doing something stupid. She smiled and accepted the thanks, and they drove off.

As they started down the unpaved road that led to the Burrow, Neville asked, "Harry, what is this Order they were talking about?"

Unexpectedly, Luna answered. "It's Professor Dumbledore's para-military organization for fighting Dark Wizards and eventually taking over the world."

Harry noticed Hermione and Ron roll their eyes. "That's mostly right. It was organized by Dumbledore during Voldemort's first war, and has been resurrected for this one. Doesn't have any plans for world conquest as far as I know. I would guess that it will disband after Voldemort's gone this time, too."

The Lovegoods lived a few miles away. When they reached the house, they found it was a small cottage. Harry noticed it had that "wizarding" look -- the impression that the walls weren't quite square and the thing was probably being held together by magic. It wasn't as bad as the Weasleys' house, but there was that look to it. The flower beds right by the house were overgrown. The garden looked good, though. The house had an empty feel to it. Hermione asked about that.

"It feels empty because it probably is. If Daddy were here, there would probably be smoke coming out of the chimney."

"Are you safe being here alone?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes. We're well warded. We have to be, of course, what with Daddy being a newspaper man -- we get so many people who threaten him."

"But you have to watch out for Death Eaters. After your father's story in the Quibbler, they may come seeking more information."

"We have a safe room. Daddy had it built when I was about three. He said one of my first accidental magics was getting into it. It took my parents almost three days to find me. They never thought to look in there. They were sure I wandered off into the woods."

"Owl us if you need to. We'll contact you in a few days after I get settled," Harry told her.

"Where are you going to stay?"

"I'm not sure. Probably Grimmauld Place for a little while. I think we'll be doing a lot of traveling on this Horcrux treasure hunt."

Luna went into the house, and the Gryffindors headed out of Ottery St. Catchpole towards the highway. They drove for a while in silence. Neville broke the silence as they drove through less rural areas, and the scenery became less interesting.

"Harry, how are you going to find the Horcruxes?"

Harry explained how Dumbledore showed him scenes related to Tom Riddle's life. He was encouraged to describe the memories as well as he could remember, and the other three people in the car kept asking for more details, because (as Hermione said) if the location of the items are somewhere in those memories, the more people pondering them, the more likely they are to figure it out. They talked for hours, while they headed for Norfolk. They quit talking as they neared Longbottom Manor, and Neville had to give Hermione directions. Although they didn't know it, the manor house was much smaller than Malfoy Manor. The lands owned by Neville's family, though, were more extensive and actually cultivated.

As they parked the car, Hermione summed up their discussion. "Of course we're not sure, but if Professor Dumbledore was right, then we have to find Hufflepuf's cup, which may be still at the house where Mrs. Smith was killed. The locket is still missing, hopefully when we find R.A.B. we find it, and hopefully not very protected. If Nagini is a Horcrux, then it's easy to find -- it will be near Voldemort. And the final item, of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor -- we're at a loss. Places to search -- the orphanage, if it's still there; the Riddle house, if there are no death eaters there; and possibly the Chamber of secrets. Or we could be really, really wrong. This is like finding a needle in a haystack -- and we're not sure what the needle looks like, or where the haystack is."

"When you put it like that...." Ron began, but never finished.

After a moment Harry completed the thought, "...you make it sound hopeless. But we do have several locations we can start with. Let's check them out first, before we declare this whole thing hopeless."

"You're right, Harry. We'll get to research it tomorrow," Hermione said, putting on a brave face.

"Day after tomorrow. Tomorrow we go to Godric's Hollow."

They exited the car and followed Neville into his home. The door opened by itself as he came up to it.

"It only does that if the people are witches and wizards. Along with a Longbottom."

The entrance hall wasn't as large as the one at Hogwarts, but was just as grand. Neville led them through the house, keeping up a running commentary. One wing went back to the thirteenth century; this room was added during Victoria's reign; that wall was destroyed during the fifth Goblin war (Neville and Hermione were the only non-Ravenclaws to get Exceeds Expectation or better on their History OWLs). When they reached the formal dining room, they were met by a group of older witches and wizards.

Not older, Harry thought to himself. Old to ancient. They looked friendly enough, he thought.

One well dressed wizard got up and shook hands with Neville. Harry recognized him, but couldn't place him.

"I'm so sorry about Augusta, Neville. She was one of a kind."

"Thank you, Uncle Algie. May I introduce you to my friends? Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter, this is my great uncle, Algie Croaker."

"Very pleased to meet you. I had hoped to meet you at a job interview, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley, I know your father from working with him at the Ministry. Mr. Potter, pleasure to meet you."

As Harry listened, he remembered where he had seen Croaker before. "I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. Mr. Weasley pointed you out. I didn't know, then, that you were related to Neville."

"I doubt Mr. Weasley knew it. And I think Neville knows enough about my work to know not to mention it, or even my last name."

Hermione looked confused. "Where do you work, Mr. Croaker? And why would you see me at a job interview?"

He smiled. "I'm an Unspeakable, Miss Granger. I work at the Department of Mysteries."

She gave a little "Oh," and looked thoughtful. Mr. Croaker watched her intensely, and when Ron appeared about to speak, he held up his hand in a stopping gesture. Hermione's look seemed to go from thoughtful to resolved, and she focused on the old wizard, and took a breath. Before she could say anything, he cut her off.

"You do realize, Miss Granger, that not only are Unspeakables not allowed to talk about their jobs, we are magically unable to?"

That seemed to deflate her, and Harry, who had watched the whole thing laughed. "Legilimency?" he asked.

"No, just watching facial expressions. While the eyes themselves give away very little (unless you use magic), the face can be read quite well, unless the person has trained to not give away their emotions through it. I believe Muggles call it a "poker face", but what it has to do with fire place implements, I'm not sure."

"We're very sorry about Neville's grandmother. I'm sorry we weren't able to save her."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. It's a terrible way to die, but I'm sure she's quite proud of her grandson discovering the way to kill Dementors. Come on, Neville. Let's go get business taken care of." He gently took Neville by the shoulder, and started to steer him away. The trio heard him speaking as they walked away, "You've grown quite a lot since I've last seen you -- physically, magically, emotionally. I'm quite proud of you, Neville...."

They looked at each other, a little lost. One of the witches came over to them. She was one of a group that were wearing white robes.

"Hello, dears. I'm Rona O'Hare, a friend of Augusta's. You're friends of Neville? Good. I'm glad he has such good friends. He had a rather lonely childhood. Augusta was a good woman, but not very...." she paused, and thought. "She wasn't very nurturing. You sometimes get that in some pure blood families, where duty, honor, patience, and maturity are expected, even of children who are energetic, impatient, and immature -- because they are children. Have you had dinner yet? Then let me get you something. The rest of us have already eaten."

She walked through a swinging door, and returned in a few minutes followed by a butler. She had a tray with glasses, and he had a tray with three plates with sandwiches. Harry stood up quickly, and retrieved the tray from the old witch. They sat down at the big table and ate. The witches in white took up positions around them, and talked about various subjects -- Augusta's marriage to Josiah Longbottom, his death in the Grindelwald war, raising Frank, eventually raising Neville, and running the Manor. They took turns with the stories, and Harry realized this was what happened on the train -- they were lightening the sadness of her passing by remembering the good times. Harry interrupted them.

"You should be telling this to Neville. He's the one, besides you, who needs to hear this."

They looked at him, and Mrs. O'Hare nodded. "You are right, Mr. Potter. It is our job to help Neville get past his grief and guilt. How did you become so wise?" She smiled at that last statement. Harry became embarrassed, and his face reddened. The witches laughed, and took their leave.

One of them looked at Hermione, and said, "We'll talk to you later, Miss Granger," before they left. Several of them nodded, and some looked quizzically at the witch who had spoken. Hermione, too, had a puzzled expression on her face. The three friends sat there for awhile, before the butler came to offer them more pumpkin juice, or something harder if they preferred. They accepted the pumpkin juice. As he went off to get it, Hermione remarked, "At least they don't have house elves."

The juice must have been near the door, though, because even before she was finished talking, the butler was pouring their drinks. Hermione shut up, embarrassed.

"The Longbottoms haven't had house elves for a hundred and fifty years. Even before that, they had a tradition of hiring squibs, like my great-grandfather. I don't think I qualify for the term, since none of his descendants have shown any magical aptitude, but the position has become hereditary in my family. We are quite proud of our service with the Longbottoms."

Harry extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter."

He looked surprised for a moment, and shook the offered hand. "Fritz Brenner. Very glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, I just realized. I'm not sure where Neville is, but he hasn't eaten anything since lunch."

"I have already brought supper to Master Longbottom. Thank you for your concern. Please excuse me." And he left.

They made small talk for a little while, and then Harry suddenly changed the subject.

"How do we know who to trust? We obviously need help with this whole thing, but where do we get it, and be sure we can trust them? My parents were betrayed by a friend. Dumbledore was betrayed by someone he trusted. Who do we trust to ask for help?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Unless you subject everyone you meet to Veritaserum I don't think there is a way. You have to start small, trusting them in little things, and if they prove they're trustworthy you can trust them with bigger things. It's a slow process, trusting someone with something important."

"The only problem is I don't know if we have time. I was just thinking that talking to an Unspeakable could be very useful. There's loads that we don't know about the you-know-whats. I just am very wary of talking to anyone about it."

"Hey, mate. Look at it this way. If we get desperate, we can always contact him through Neville. But he's not our only source of information, you know. There were at least two Defense teachers we know that I think we can trust. Okay, so only one actually taught defense. And we happen to know one of the best curse breakers in the world."

Harry looked at Ron. "That's good thinking. Which leads to the question, who are you and what have you done with the real Ron."

Ron hit him in the arm. "You prat."

Hermione smiled. She was glad they weren't as nervous as she was about what they were planning to do. As Harry had said in the car, their quest could be hopeless. And even if it wasn't, the protections that Voldemort put up around the Horcruxes could kill them. Harry's description of the cave made her shudder. She suddenly got the impression that someone was watching her. She looked up and one of the witches in white was looking at her through the door to the hall. She gave Hermione a smile, and walked away.

Later, Neville rejoined them, with his uncle.

"Gran has been instructing me for years on how to run the Manor, but there's so much more to know. Do you know that there are 13 people on the payroll, including two wizard game wardens for the magical creatures that live around here? There are eight families that farm our land, and we have contracts with three companies who buy our food, including a magical one that's a minor supplier to Hogwarts. Uncle Algie was helping me get a feel for the budget. Do you know that I have a business manager? And Uncle Algie gets a salary for auditing him, and I'm supposed to audit Uncle Algie?"

Hermione noticed Ron appeared to be struggling with what he was hearing. "It sounds like being rich is a lot of work," he said.

Both Mr. Croaker and Neville laughed, and Harry and Hermione smiled.

"Ron, I may be rich, but if we didn't have a lot of income, this place would eat our family's savings in just a few years. I did authorize my first big purchase today. I'm going to set up a magical hot house, and grow potion ingredients. Not only will it provide an income, it's something I'm good at, and enjoy. There are advantages to money, too."

"Yeah, I knew that," Ron said with a smile.

They talked for a little while longer, then headed to bed. Neville's possessions had been moved out of his room, and into the master bedroom. It had actually been empty, his Gran not having lived in that room since her husband had died. After he returned from Hogwarts, Neville's father had moved in. It had been unused for almost sixteen years. Harry could tell Neville was uncomfortable about sleeping there, but Neville didn't say anything. He wished them a good night, and went to his room.

Fritz led them to a different part of the house, and put them in two guest rooms. As Ron and Harry settled in their beds, Harry asked, "Ron, what about Neville's grandmother. She's not dead yet, is she?"

"No, not officially. According to old Wizarding laws she's been moved to St. Mungo's and will be subjected to counter curses and other spells to make sure that she was really kissed by Dementors. I guess in the past sometimes a stunned person would be passed off as kissed -- for the inheritance, you know. So they passed laws to make sure it doesn't happen. But after a few days, she'll be left to die. She can't feed herself, or anything, and they'll stop feeding her. It wouldn't matter, anyway. They only last a month or so, then the body just stops. Some families hold a service as soon as the healers say they've really been kissed. Some hold it after the body dies. I don't know which we'll do."

"Oh, Lord! I'm sorry, Ron! I forgot." Harry was horrified at himself. He had made sure he hadn't asked Neville, worried about how his friend was holding up. But here he was, doing it to Ron, who lost two family members.

"It's alright, Harry. I know you don't know our laws and customs. I sometimes think Hogwarts should have a Wizards Studies class, as well as Muggles Studies."

"Yeah. I could have used that.

"How you holding up?"

"Aright, I guess. It just doesn't seem real, half the time."

"I know. It was like that after fourth year and Cedric -- I still couldn't see the Thestrals when we left. It had to sink in over the summer. Then the nightmares started, though. I hope you don't go through that."

"You and me, both. Good night, Harry."

Though they didn't know it, the last two days had been too much for Neville, and when he was alone in his new bedroom, he broke down and cried. He hadn't cried since he was small, because, as the old witch had mentioned, his grandmother wasn't a very nurturing woman. After a while, he stopped, got up, and cleaned himself up. He put on a robe, and went down the hall to the room his Uncle Algie always used. He knocked on the door, and it was answered by his uncle.

"Neville! I thought you had gone to bed."

"I thought of something I need to do, and you're probably the best person to organize this. I want you to hire some tutors for me, as well as some security guards for the estate."

"What sort of tutors?" He eyed his grand-nephew with interest.

"Apparition. I want to get my license as soon as possible. And dueling. Or fighting. Harry's trained me some, but the next time I encounter Death Eaters, I want to walk away."

His uncle nodded. "Good thinking. And the guards?"

"We're at war. Voldemort," and he barely stumbled over it, "won't stop until he's dead. I want my people as safe as I can make them."

Again, his uncle nodded. "I'll get on it first thing in the morning." He paused, and asked, "By the way, you didn't see my wife while you were wandering around, did you?" Neville shook his head. "Oh, well. Probably doing some ritual with her friends. Good night, Neville."

At that moment, Neville's great-aunt Rosamond was in a parlor in the guest wing. There were seven other witches with her. They were waiting for Mrs. O'Hare. Mrs. O'Hare was one floor up, outside of Hermione's room.

Hermione was ready for bed, and heading back to her bedroom after brushing her teeth. She had been thinking about Neville -- how like a feudal lord he was. There were people who depended on him, and she could tell he felt responsible for them. During some of their discussion, she forgot that she was talking to Neville; he seemed so much more self assured and mature. At times he sounded like a businessman. He had always had potential, she thought, but maybe it wasn't in the area of magic.

She was almost to her door when she was startled out of her thoughts, and saw Mrs. O'Hare.

"Miss Granger, I wonder if you would do me the honor of joining my friends and me for a few minutes."

"It is late, Mrs. O'Hare. Could we talk in the morning?"

"While we could, they would prefer to speak with you tonight. I don't think it will take long."

"Very well." Hermione dropped her bathroom bag off in her room, and followed the older witch down the back stairs of the wing. Soon she was being introduced to the other witches she had seen earlier. They were all still dressed in the white robes, and ranged in age from old to ancient. The only name that she recognized was Rosamond Croaker -- Algie's wife, she assumed. The oldest was Esmarelda Peasegood. After the introductions were over, Mrs. Peasegood spoke to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, we are the White Coven. We were wondering if there is some way we can help you?"

Hermione looked around warily. "I'm very sorry, but I don't think I've heard of you."

"That's alright, dear. We know you are Muggleborn. Let me explain.

"The Wizarding world, at least in Europe, has for centuries consisted of small communities. Hogsmeade is a small village compared to most Muggle towns. It's unique in that it's an all magical town. Most witches and wizards live in mixed communities, where there are at least a few other magical families. For example, there are at least four families in Ottery-St. Catchpole, where your friend, Mr. Weasley, lives. But even though we live among them, we like to keep to our own kind. One thing this has done is caused the formation of many different clubs and cliques throughout the magical world. There have been over the years the Royal Academy of Conjurors, the Infernal Society of Necromancers, the Order of the Phoenix, the Order of Merlin, the Red Coven, and we are the White Coven."

"Wait! The Order of Merlin is an award."

"Now it is. For the last two centuries or so, that is correct. But originally it was a group of Wizards and Witches who banded together to protect Wizarding Society from evil wizards, and evil Muggle governments. They would extend entry to others who did the same. Until about two hundred years ago a group of witches and wizards, with no interest in joining the order after defeating a nasty, but minor, dark wizard were inducted anyway. There's no quicker way to destroy a group then to invite others in who do not wish to be part of it. Less then 20 years later the Order was no more than a name given to award those the government wishes to praise, or flatter.

"The White Coven is a sort of social club. Most covens are. I'm sure you've noticed that while witches and wizards enjoy a certain degree of equality before the law, in many respects we are lesser citizens. Have you ever walked through the Ministry during the day? Well, if you had, you would have noticed that 9 out of 10 ministry employees are men. There's no rule against women, it's just society expects us to stay home. For the most part, we're happy to do that and raise our children. But after twenty or thirty years of raising children, what are we supposed to do for the next hundred years of our lives? The White Coven is a group of influential witches who support each other, and pressure the government to see things our way. As such, we're no different from any of a score of other pressure group."

She leaned forward towards Hermione and smiled. "Except that we're rich, powerful, or both."

Hermione absorbed what the old witch was saying. She could understand the social and political aspects of the group. One thing puzzled her, though.

"Why did you want to speak with me?"

The old witch smiled again. "Several things. First, we didn't think you had heard of us, and we wanted to let you know who we were. Second, we've heard of you. As you grow older, we want you to consider joining us some day. As I said, we're rich or powerful, and while I can't tell if you'll be rich, we already know you are powerful. And finally, we want you to know we're here to help you, if you need it."

"Help me? How?"

"We know you are working with Harry Potter to defeat the Dark Lord, and have fought his minions several times already. We may not be warriors, but if that is what you need, we can even try our hand at that. We know we have no future if the Dark Lord wins. Therefore, we will help you in your battle. But what we do best, besides have some lovely teas, is exert influence on the Ministry."

Hermione looked a little dazed. She gazed about at the Coven. This was something she hadn't expected. She stumbled over her words as she answered.

"I'm honored. I don't know what we need. I'm not even sure how we'll be fighting Voldemort." Hermione kept the amusement off her face, as she noticed even these tough old ladies winced at the name.

"Can you explain to me why everyone, even you, are afraid of Voldemort's name? Harry told me that during the first war people were tortured when they were caught saying it. But that was decades ago! You can't tell me you were all Crucioed during that time? But I can't think of a reason why a group of women who just volunteered to go to war with me are flinching at the name?"

"You're right. We weren't tortured. Do you have any phobias?"

"Ah....I don't like heights."

"Somehow, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cast a spell that gives us a phobic reaction to his name. You can fight it, just as you can fight any phobia, but to do that you have to confront your fear. You have to repeatedly encounter it, until you get used to it. Obviously, you've done that. But it's not pleasant. Are you willing to encounter heights numerous times until you get over your fear of them?"

"But I never really had a fear of the name...."

"It feeds on itself. As a Muggle-Born you wouldn't have encountered it in your home. As you encountered it at school, didn't you too grow uncomfortable saying it?"

Hermione nodded.

"In a Wizarding household, the parents would have infected the children with it. It perpetuates itself."

"Alright, but I won't stop saying it.

"What have you been doing in this war so far?"

"We have been trying to persuade our families, at least those with younger children, to leave the country. The Dark Lord plans to eventually rule the world, but he's starting with England. We try to protect our own as well as we can. Some have left, others are ready to leave. It's a big decision to leave your country and go to somewhere strange. As troublesome as the Ministry's been under Fudge, as poor as the education system has become under Dumbledore, this is our home, and it is comfortable, and known."

"What do you mean, poor education under Dumbledore?"

"Surely you don't think your instruction has been good, do you dear? There hasn't been a graduate who has gone on to advanced potions since Snape became potions instructor. A few retirements by Master Potion makers, and the country will need to import a good share of our advanced potions. He has a ghost teaching history who wasn't very good when he was alive. Three of the last six defense teachers were Death Eaters, and a fourth was a ministry lackey who's job was to not teach defense. You at least got two good instructors, although one was a werewolf. And we hear the care of magical creatures instructor is only slowly getting the hang of the job."

"Hagrid has been getting better. But you're wrong about Lockhart. He was a fraud and an awful teacher."

"But you see, in about half of your classes you have received poor instruction. Minerva McGonagall has always been a good Transfigurations instructor...."

One of the other old witches interrupted, "Except the first few years. She was so insistent on keeping discipline in the classroom that she forgot to actually teach."

"Well, she got better. Hopefully, she will straighten Hogwarts out, now that she's Headmistress."

Hermione backed up to something that had been said. "Why would you want your families to leave, rather than to fight? What good will running away do?"

"My dear, if you had children, would you fight to protect them?"

"Of course."

"As would any mother or father. But if you had children and were living in a war zone, would you keep them at risk, and stay? Wouldn't you rather get them to safety, then worry about the big picture? Would you put them in danger for a principle?"

Hermione answered slowly, "No, I guess not. It's a terrible choice."

"Not if you have children. They always get priority."

Hermione was silent while she thought of this.

"There is one thing you might be able to do. While Neville and Harry are only a couple of weeks from becoming adults, we have other friends who are a year or more from becoming adults. If something could be done about the underage magic restrictions, it could help."

Another woman spoke up, "You are speaking about the Weasley and Lovegood girls?" Other witches looked at her with questioning expressions, and she explained, "They were with Miss Granger at the Department of Mysteries."

"Yes, them, but also, a lot of students in my year were taught defense by Harry. Not all of them are of age yet, but they probably could use practice to stay ready. With the lowering of the age limit, it might save someone's life."

"Very well, Miss Granger. We'll look into doing this for you. In the meantime, here." Mrs. Peasegood handed her a small mirror. It was about the twice the size of a dentist's mirror, with a white rim and handle. Hermione realized it was ivory and would have protested, if she thought it would do any good. "If you want to contact us, just say the name of the witch you wish to talk to.

"Oh, and don't tell your friends about this. Most men, even the ones we bribe and blackmail, think of us as just a social club."

"You bribe and blackmail people?"

"How do you think a bunch of sweet, old ladies get the Ministry to agree to our little requests." She gave a smile that could have graced any grandmother looking at a grandchild for the first time. Then they all laughed. Hermione thanked them, and went to her room. She slept restlessly that night. Something about what they said bothered her, and she couldn't figure out what specifically it was.