Harry Potter and the Simulacrum Seal

Chapter Four: Game Plan

'I don't know, Harry. I just don't know.'

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were settled into Ron and Harry's room in a wizarding-style inn. Ron had arrived via Portkey that evening (without his father, who was needed desperately at the office); Harry and Hermione had taken the French Floo Network.

Ron, lying boneless on his single bed, crooked his head toward her. 'You're supposed to ... be the brains,' he said, yawning halfway through.

Hermione glowered. 'I can't very well pull the answer out of thin air with no resources,' she said primly. 'We simply must wait until we return to England.'

'But we don't have the time!' Harry protested. He knew that wasn't entirely true, perhaps, but it could be true, and there was no way he could stand another three days on "holiday" without making some progress. He had been a bundle of nerves ever since the wedding.

'We don't have a choice,' Hermione said reasonably, sitting cross-legged on the floor, back straight and hands in her lap with her eyes closed. 'We don't have any way to research R.A.B. or the Horcruxes from here.'

'But how will we research the Horcruxes, anyway?' Harry demanded, continuing his pacing about the room. 'It's not as though there's any book in the library that says "And oh, by the way, if you're looking for the Horcruxes of the Darkest wizard to ever live, here are a few places to check."'

'We should start with R.A.B.' Hermione said serenely. 'He - or she - is our only link to any Horcrux at all. And we can't figure out who he -'

'Or she,' Ron inserted, the sliver of a mocking smile curling his lips.

Hermione's calm image was unsettled by her unamused glare. 'We cannot find out more information about R.A.B. without research materials.'

'But we're not going back to Hogwarts! And even if we were, I'm not waiting nearly two whole months on my arse!'

'Of course not,' Hermione replied. Musing, she added, 'In fact, I don't think Hogwarts will necessarily have what we need.'

'And that is?' Harry asked, irritation in his voice as he paced faster.

'Stop that, Harry, it's annoying.'

Harry stopped pacing. He stood in front of her, his hands on his hips, looking down expectantly.

'What we need is a list of all the magical people in Britain whose initials are R.A.B., as well as a list of all the witches and wizards that Voldemort or the Death Eaters are suspected to have had a hand in killing with those initials.'

'That's right,' Ron poked in. 'The bloke thought he was going to die, didn't he?'

'And where are we going to get that?' Harry asked, partially appeased now that they were coming up with a real plan of action. He sat cross-legged in front of Hermione, his head leaning on his fist.

Hermione looked down at her lap, then at Harry. 'Harry, I don't see how anyone other than a Ministry official could get this sort of data for us.'

Ron rolled over to a sitting position on the side of the bed. 'That's fine, then. My dad will scrounge it up.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'And how are we supposed to ask him to get that for us?'

'We could tell him about -'

'No,' Harry cut in, turning his head to face Ron. 'We're not telling anyone about what we're doing. It's dangerous enough for you two to know. If we tell Mr Weasley and Voldemort gets to him ...'

'My dad wouldn't squeal!' Ron protested.

'We're not saying he would, Ron,' Hermione sighed, 'but he would be tortured for it if they thought he knew what Harry was planning.'

'And Voldemort's an expert Legilimens,' Harry argued. 'Mr Weasley wouldn't have to give up the information; Voldemort would be all too glad to tear it from his mind.'

'And then he might move the Horcruxes to somewhere even safer,' Hermione said. 'We might never find them.'

'Okay, okay, you had me convinced at the torture part,' Ron conceded. 'Can't we just ask him to get it without telling him anything?'

'Even if he would do it without us giving him a reason, he's probably being watched. You are Harry's best friend after all, and your family is known to be sympathetic to Muggles and Muggleborns. If Mr Weasley were to ask for bizarre Ministry data like that, people would start thinking he knew something.'

'And then the torture. Right.' Ron bit his lip, looking pained at the mere thought of it.

'I don't want to cause Mr Weasley any trouble,' Harry said firmly. 'We'll leave him out of it.'

'So what will we do?' Ron asked.

'That's what I'm not sure of,' Hermione fretted. She uncrossed her legs and stood up stiffly, pacing the room as Harry had before. 'We need a Ministry contact who wouldn't raise any eyebrows asking for statistics like that.'

'What about one of the Aurors in the Order, like Kingsley or Tonks?' Harry suggested. 'It wouldn't look strange for one of them to ask for that information. They could say they're looking up a suspect.'

'Kingsley would be better than Tonks. He's less likely to ask questions, and Tonks talks a lot,' Ron added.

'And she would probably ask Remus if he knew what we're up to,' Hermione continued, cringing.

'Okay, so we'll ask Kingsley,' Harry said decisively. 'Er, when? How? It's not like we see him regularly.'

'We could write him a letter,' Hermione suggested.

'Yeah, because I'm sure Voldemort's not going to have people trying to read my mail,' said Harry sarcastically.

'I'll ask Mum if it wouldn't be nice to invite him over for dinner,' Ron grinned. 'He'll come over and we'll lead him someplace private to talk to him.'

'Brilliant!' Hermione praised him. Ron went red around the ears.

'But we still have to wait until we get back to Britain,' Harry muttered.

'Yes, which means you,' she nudged him with her toe, 'can relax a few days. Mr Weasley was right, you know. The world isn't going to end if you relax a while.'

***

Harry tried to relax, he really did. He hadn't done too badly when they had been visiting the French countryside, even as he worried about Horcruxes, but in Paris he was a lost cause. The wizarding population there seemed to have been told he would be visiting, and his celebrity there was just as great as in Britain, but his presence more of a novelty. He, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley, the only ones on the tour since Fred and George had insisted on returning to Britain for their shop and Charlie had left for his dragons, had run into a wall of onlookers barely five minutes after entering the French version of Diagon Alley (it was the same except people weren't clustered together out of fear and there were a lot more clothing stores).

It took several dozen photographs and more handshakes than Harry could count to make an escape, and even then people came up to him on the street every five minutes to meet him. He tried to take it well, especially since many of the people were there with their children. The children looked at him wide-eyed and asked difficult questions, which their parents then translated ('Are you going to kill the bad man? How come you didn't die? Do you have a girlfriend?').

It was a constant reminder of who he was and what was expected of him. He found it more relaxing than the entire holiday to walk up the path to the Weasleys' back door and open it to breathe in stale air and the permeating odour of a week of takeout dinners and untaken-out garbage.

'Home!' Ron said with relief as he entered, dropping his suitcase to the floor with a clank. 'I never thought I'd be so glad to see this place!'

'Same here,' Ginny agreed. 'Going on holiday is exhausting!' She didn't drop her bag nearly so carelessly as Ron had since she had bought some breakable souvenirs, but her relief in setting it down appeared equal.

Harry dropped his rucksack on the floor of his room (or more accurately Fred and George's room, but Harry was coming to think of it as his) with equal zeal. He was thankful to be back in a place where he was considered normal, or at least as normal as anyone had ever considered him.

His first thought upon arrival was that he should take a look at the last week's issues of the Daily Prophet to see if anything awful had happened. But he couldn't find any newspapers in the kitchen, which looked as though it had imploded in Mrs Weasley's absence.

Mrs Weasley was already at the sink, scrubbing like mad, looking around her in a panic. 'Is there something you need, Harry dear?'

'I was wondering if there were any issues of the Prophet lying around,' he said.

Mrs Weasley stopped scrubbing and turned her head. 'Nothing has happened except the usual,' she said simply. 'Don't worry yourself.'

He blinked at her. 'How do you know?' He wondered if Mr Weasley had sent owls to her about it, but it took so long to send an owl that far ...

'There are English newspapers in France, Harry,' Hermione said, coming up behind him.

'Really?' he replied, his eyes wide in surprise. 'How come no one told me?'

'Because we were on holiday,' Mrs Weasley said firmly.

'Honestly, Harry, nothing absolutely terrible happened.' Hermione assured him. Harry wondered what sort of times they must live in to have gradations in how terrible something was (mildly terrible, terrible, absolutely terrible, catastrophic ...)

'What was it?' he asked. 'I'm going to find out anyway ...'

'Just a few Muggles tortured and some houses burned down. The Ministry's worried about it being so quiet.' Mrs Weasley spoke the last sentence softly, an undercurrent of concern flowing clearly in her words. Seeming to struggle for a moment, she continued in nearly a whisper, 'It was always quiet before something terrible, before.'

'And it was written that the Muggle media is having a hard time spinning some odd occurrences,' Hermione added. 'You wouldn't think a paper in France would be so detailed, but I suppose what's happening in England is the big headline these days.'

'It's not as though Voldemort would stop at England if he won,' Harry replied.

Hermione was silent after that. Mrs Weasley, after a perceptible shudder, went back to her dishes, the sound from her scrubbing coming faster and louder than before.

***

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not invited to dinner until several days later, as Mrs Weasley needed to recover from the stress of going on holiday with someone who was followed by a mob everywhere he went and bring her home back from the dead. Kingsley came, thankfully; Mr Weasley had been worried that he would be tied up at the office, but luck was with Harry that night, and Shacklebolt had managed to slip away for a meal before his next shift that evening.

After dinner, Harry managed to get Kingsley alone. He had been hoping that Ron and Hermione could back him up, but they were busy diverting the rest of the Weasley family with vapid conversation. So he snuck Shacklebolt into the living room and sat him down.

'I need a favour,' Harry began.

Kingsley nodded, his face grave. 'Whatever you need, I'll do my best to get it.'

So Harry detailed the information he wanted. He didn't mention the initials R.A.B. specifically, instead asking only for general listings. When Kingsley asked Harry why he needed the information, and Harry replied that he couldn't say just yet ('really, I want to, I do, but it wouldn't be a good idea'), Kingsley accepted it, and said he would get Harry what he needed as soon as possible. Harry didn't specifically ask Kingsley to keep it between the two of them, but their exchanged looks during the clandestine meeting gave Harry the impression that Kingsley knew exactly what he was about.

And so it was that, when Harry heard Mrs Weasley greeting someone at the door the next day and a distorted male voice floated up the stairs, Harry rushed down with intense anticipation, expecting it to be Kingsley. He tried to keep the disappointment from showing on his face when it was revealed to be Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody; after all, he really was glad to see Remus again, and didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

'Harry, Remus and Mad Eye are here to see you,' Mrs Weasley announced.

Lupin smiled at him kindly, looking much as he had when Harry last saw him only a couple weeks earlier, though his eyes looked more bloodshot. Moody's magical eye was rolling back in his head to look through the door he had just come in through; his normal one seemed to be staring through Harry.

'Harry, Mad Eye and I want to talk to you,' Remus said.

'We don't want to talk,' Moody said gruffly, his wooden leg thumping on the floor as he moved toward the living room. 'We have a proposition to deliver. Then we're off.'

Remus gave Harry a private, exasperated look and followed Moody into the living room. Harry trailed them.

'Now, Potter,' Moody began even as he settled himself into a creaking, well-worn chair, 'we all know you aren't of age yet ... heh, there are some folk counting down the days until you are ...'

Remus frowned at Moody; Harry thought Remus probably didn't want him to know about all the expectations. 'Mad Eye means that when you are of age, it would be best if you received some additional combat training before going back to Hogwarts -'

'If it reopens,' Moody growled. 'Don't know if they'll manage it without Dumbledore.'

'Regardless of the status of Hogwarts and your own excellent abilities,' Remus continued, swallowing his unusually clear annoyance with Moody, 'there is always more to learn, and I'm sure that between the two of us, we could teach you something you don't already know.'

Harry grinned. Extra instruction in Defence Against the Dark Arts by an Auror and Remus Lupin, the best teacher Harry ever had? 'That sounds great!' he said. Then, the task ahead of him clobbering him on the brain, he added, 'Could Ron and Hermione join us too?'

'They aren't the ones who will be up against Voldemort,' Moody argued.

'I see no reason why not,' Remus said, his face grimacing as he turned to Moody. 'They're going to be in the Order in all likelihood.'

'Auror training is always one on one,' Moody countered, glaring at Remus. Harry got the distinct impression that these two were used to knocking heads with each other, but he couldn't recall them arguing before in his presence.

'It wasn't in my day,' Remus replied.

'In your day we were churning out Aurors as fast as possible. Didn't care so much about quality. Got all your training in the field anyway. Died if you weren't cut out for it, lived if you were.'

'Training Ron and Hermione as well as Harry shouldn't be a great hardship. They're both talented young people. Hermione is particularly bright. And in case you hadn't noticed, my day is the same as this day.'

Moody shrugged. 'Fine, don't listen to my advice. You never do. See you in August, Potter, and your friends too, it seems.' With that, Moody clomped bad-temperedly out of the room, slamming the Weasleys' door behind him as he left the house.

'What was that all about?' Harry asked, looking after Moody.

Remus sighed. 'He's been on edge since he found that Dumbledore had left the running of the Order to me instead of to him.'

'You're running the Order now?' Harry asked, his mouth gaping open. Of course, he realized, someone would have to take over after Dumbledore's death. 'That's great!'

'Not everyone thinks so,' Remus sighed again, frustration in every note. 'Moody's only one of several discontent Order members, though he is by far the most vocal. It was only finalized a few days ago, so I suppose he'll get used to it. I'm also the new Secret-Keeper for headquarters,' he said, the last part in a low whisper.

'You're absolutely qualified,' Harry said sagely, completely certain of what he was saying. 'Dumbledore definitely knew what he was doing. You're good at getting along with people, you're clever, and you have the time to devote to the Order. I can't think of anyone better.'

Remus' looked at him with a grateful, vulnerable expression. 'That really does mean a lot to me, Harry. Truly.'

Harry cheeks went red and he looked away. 'It's just the truth.'

Remus smiled at him. 'To you it is. That's why it means so much.' He lifted the satchel he had brought with him onto his lap and opened it, setting some books on the table. 'I brought some study materials that you might find of interest. It should be enough to keep you occupied until you come of age.'

Harry looked at the titles on the table. They were all concerned with advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. 'Most of them are titles used in Auror training,' Remus added. 'I realize you can't practice any of it just yet, but reading up on the spells should allow you to learn them faster when you can.'

'Thanks, Remus!' Harry said. While finding the Horcruxes was the most important part of his mission, he painfully remembered how easily Snape had defeated him. I'm going to work as hard as I can, he thought, a set look of determination on his face, and then I'll be ready to take down Voldemort and Snape.

***

'That's awesome!' Ron enthused.

Hermione also looked stunned and amazed. 'Yes, that's wonderful, Harry! How nice of them to include us!' She looked hungrily at the books in Harry's arms.

Harry didn't mention that he had fought to have them allowed into the lessons; he didn't want Hermione or Ron to feel indebted to him or angry at Moody. 'It wasn't nice, just obvious,' Harry replied. 'If you're going to fight with me you should have equal training.' He set the books down next to Hermione, who immediately grabbed the one on top and flipped to the table of contents.

'But they still don't know that we're going after the Horcruxes, do they?' Ron said, sounding suspicious. 'Dumbledore didn't offer to let us in on your training.'

Harry waved off the objection. 'That was different. It was personal. And I told you all about it later.'

'Do you suppose Kingsley will get back to you soon, Harry?' Hermione said, sounding anxious. 'Did he mention when ...?'

Harry shook his head. 'It's only been one day. I guess we'll have to be patient for a little while longer. Kingsley must be pretty busy.'

'Aw, it's for you, Harry. He'll get back to you fast. The entire Order practically exists to help you now that Dumbledore's gone,' Ron said.

Hermione frowned, her nose poking out of her book. 'They exist to defeat Voldemort, not to be Harry's uninformed slaves. But I do agree that he won't leave us hanging for long. I only hope we don't have to ask the Order for too many more favours. They'll want to know what we're doing if we demand a lot from them.'

'We'll do most of it on our own,' Harry insisted. 'We ...'

Harry trailed off, distracted by a barely noticeable scraping sound against the door. Suspicious, he gestured toward it; Hermione and Ron looked at him in confusion. Just before Ron was going to blurt something out, Harry put his finger to his lips, calling for silence. 'We've got a lot of work ahead of us,' Harry said very loudly, creeping toward the door. 'But together, we'll -'

He threw the door open and ran down the length of the string, across the hall and up the stairs. The Extendable Ear was rolling up rapidly as though realizing that its user was about to get caught unless it escaped faster than Harry could run. In the end, Harry had too much of a head start; just as he reached the door from which it had originated, the Extendable Ear wiggled underneath the crack. Harry opened the door to find Ginny Weasley sitting near it, the Ear rolled up in her hand.

'What are you doing, listening in on us?' Harry demanded.

Ginny, her face flushed but her expression fierce, replied, 'Nothing that you didn't do when the Order was leaving you out of conversations!' She stood up and faced him angrily. 'I want to know what's going on! I'm only a couple months younger than you but I'm still treated like a child even while you and Hermione and Ron are planning something behind the Order's back!'

'You'd better not tell anyone about what you heard!' Harry demanded. Ron and Hermione came up behind him. They looked at the two awkwardly, seeming to wish they hadn't followed Harry at all.

'I just want to be involved!' Ginny argued. 'I'm not going to tattle on you!'

Harry was furious now. Didn't she realize that the entire point of keeping her far away from what he was doing was to protect her? Didn't she realize he wanted her to be kept safe? He didn't know what he'd do if anything happened to her. 'You can't be involved, Ginny. It's too dangerous!'

'That's just what the Order would have said to you a couple of years ago when you were using Extendable Ears!'

He hadn't ever seen Ginny so angry. She was glaring at him with a fury he had never associated with her, her hands balled into fists and the Extendable Ear thrown carelessly onto the floor. She looked as though she might throttle him. Tenderness welled up inside him that quelled his own anger at her. 'And the Order was right,' Harry said, calm and sad. 'I shouldn't have tried to listen in on their private conversations. None of us should have. If I had left the battle to them then, Sirius would still be alive.' It surprised him, mildly, to be able to say that without pain ... to say it as plain, simple truth ... 'I was wrong, Ginny, and you're wrong to do it now. Hermione's going to spell the door so Extendable Ears won't work anymore. Don't try it again.'

The fury on Ginny's face wasn't touched by his words, but Harry had nothing more to say, so he turned his back on her and left, Ron and Hermione trailing him, an uncomfortable silence in the air.

***

'Isn't this interesting?' Hermione remarked upon seeing the story on the front page of the paper the next day.

'Interesting is better than awful, right?' Ron said, looking nervously across the table at her.

Hermione hummed in agreement, her eyes skirting the article before she read it out loud.

'CHOSEN ONE DRUMMING UP SUPPORT ABROAD, MINISTER SAYS

The Boy Who Lived has used his recent trip to France to speak with the French Minister for Magic, Julien Delacour, regarding international cooperation between Britain and France in the battle against He Who Must Not Be Named, says British Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Harry, who is a close personal friend, gladly accepted the task," Scrimgeour told this reporter late last night. "He wants to do everything possible to rally support for our cause from our close neighbour to the south."

His words are supported by several pictures appearing in the French newspapers over the past week showing the Chosen One in the company of the French Minister, as well as many other Parisian witches and wizards.'

'Most of the rest isn't worth reading,' Hermione said, scanning downward. 'Oh, here's a good part.'

... 'When asked whether Mr Potter intends to visit other European nations, the Minister replied that he has not discussed the matter, but said "[he] is certain that Harry will do whatever is necessary to assist the Ministry in these troubled times." When this reporter further questioned the Minister about the Chosen One's expected entry into politics once he is of age on July 31^st of this year, the Minister stated that he was unaware of any such intention on Mr Potter's part. "My friend Harry has a great many things to work on," the Minister said, "and the running of a country would be a great deal to ask of such a young man with so much on his shoulders as it is."

The French Minister could not be reached for comment, although he has been quoted in the Diviner's Star, a English-language paper in France, as saying, "Harry Potter and I spoke of a great many things, and I am sure we will be close friends in the years to come."'

'Rubbish,' Ron muttered. 'Complete rubbish.'

'Not entirely,' Hermione said mildly, sipping some pumpkin juice. 'Harry did tell the Minister that he has no intention of going into politics.'

'I certainly didn't give Scrimgeour the impression we were buddies, though,' Harry countered.

'Yeah,' Ron glowered. 'He was going to send me to Azkaban if Harry didn't do what he said!' He pounded his fist on the table, sloshing his drink.

'It makes perfect sense politically,' Hermione continued. 'Harry made it completely clear that he doesn't want to be involved in public life, so the Minister doesn't expect to be contradicted.'

'He's right,' Harry admitted. 'I don't care if the wizarding world thinks he and I are friends. We know different. But I don't like him using me.'

'Maybe it's better this way,' Hermione commented.

'How could it be better this way?' Ron asked her incredulously.

'If the Minister feels secure in his position, he won't be so hostile to Harry,' she reasoned.

'I guess I don't need more enemies,' Harry replied. 'And he's not nearly so bad a Minister for Magic as Fudge was.' He paused, then said, 'I feel guilty. If I went into politics and removed Scrimgeour from the Ministry, I could get Stan Shunpike released and make sure no one is ever sent to Azkaban without trial like Sirius again.'

Hermione smiled sadly at him. 'You can't fix everything. We have to focus on ... well, you know ...' she trailed off as Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen.

Harry sighed. 'I know you're right.'

'Right about what, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked curiously.

'Nothing important, Mrs Weasley,' Hermione replied.

A short time later Ginny entered the kitchen. The atmosphere was immediately tense. None of them had spoken to Ginny since the previous evening; not even Hermione, who shared a room with her. Hermione pretended to be held rapt by the newspaper, Ron looked down at his food with newfound fascination, and Harry, who was facing a window, looked out into the Weasleys' backyard.

That became more difficult when Ginny sat down in front of him, her head blocking Harry's view. She gazed down at her lap as she mechanically gathered food onto her plate. They all ate in silence, aside from Mrs Weasley's occasional attempts to start a conversation; she was clearly confused about what was wrong. Eventually Mrs Weasley gave up and left to read in the living room. Hermione and Ron soon made a hasty retreat.

Immediately after Ron quietly shut the door behind him, Ginny spoke. 'Harry, I'm really sorry,' she said quietly, not looking up. 'I won't invade your privacy again.'

'It's all right, Ginny,' Harry said sincerely. That was all that needed to be said between them before their eyes were drawn to each other's, Ginny clearly just as pleased to have Harry's forgiveness as Harry was to have the anger between them gone.

The rest of the day passed quietly as Harry, Hermione and Ron read. Harry and Ron were both unusually focused. Harry had to admit that the words were beginning to swim after a few hours - he knew he didn't have Hermione's temperament for reading - but he plunged forward, determined that if this was the best contribution he could make until he turned seventeen, he would pour everything he had into it.