Band of Gypsies

Chapter Twelve

Dumbledore attended the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in the basement kitchen at No. 12 Gimmauld Place. It was full to bursting with people. He wasn't trying to restore order. He merely sat looking down the length of the long wooden table.

"I will kill you!" Lupin shouted. He was waving a wand at Snape. Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing behind him, ready, again, to grab his arms if it looked like he was going to use the wand.

Snape sat quietly across the table. He had a gash across his cheek. It bled, dripping down into his neck to his collar. His gypsy clothes were covered with dust. He stared stonily at Lupin.

"WHERE WERE ALL OF YOU?!" Ron screamed, beet-faced and held tightly in the embrace of his older brother and father. Tears continually flowed down his cheeks. Bill was close to tears and Arthur Weasley was rocking his struggling youngest son in his lap like a baby infant.

The room was full of people. Hermione Granger sat sobbing into her folded arms, her head on the table, comforted by Molly Weasley who had her other arm around her youngest daughter's shoulders. Fred and George Weasley sat, one on each side, white-faced and silent.

"He's dead, Albus! What went wrong?" someone else spoke.

Dumbledore sat motionless, staring directly ahead.

Minerva McGonagal sat next to him. She was trembling and in shock.

The noise of the new front door alarm made everyone turn towards the kitchen door and listen.

"Where is 'e?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the hall. "Where the bloody 'ell is 'e?"

Dumbledore looked up, stood and hurried from the room to meet the half-giant.

The room quieted as they listened. They could all hear Dumbledore's muffled voice and Hagrid's bellowing. "No, Professor, Sir. He can't be! He can't be...Dead!" Hagrid's wailing vibrated through the house.

Chapter Thirteen

Harry Potter's body lay in Sirius' old bedroom. At least, the one that Alastor, Mad-Eye Moody had placed there. The real Harry Potter was riding in a coach on his way to Diagon Alley. The body he had left behind was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry was staring out into the sunshine and thinking about it. A little Polyjuice Potion, a few of Harry's hairs, the Silencio Charm and two gypsy wizards puppeteering Pettigrew's legs- propelling him towards Voldemort; that's all it had taken. That and Jolie's magic.

Voldemort believed that what he saw was Harry Potter and he hadn't hesitated. He struck with one blow and killed Harry. Or the person he thought was Harry. Now you can join your friends, Peter, Harry thought. You gave your life for me, you are now out of my debt. Harry wondered if he was now on the road to being like Voldemort. He had, after all, sanctioned Peter's death.

Harry had three days to purchase the items on his list and make the Hogwart's Express. He noticed that McGonagal included his OWLS grades in with the usual list sent at the beginning of each school year. Dumbledore had forwarded the letter to him. Harry read the list and saw that he passed everything, including Potions. He managed a smile to himself.

There wasn't much that he smiled at these days. One person outside the Kumpania knew that he was not really dead. The plan had gone well. He thought about what had happened. Hopefully, he would have two more years to prepare. Two more years at Hogwarts before he would have to meet Voldemort for the real thing. He would be at Hogwarts completing his education and under the protection of Dumbledore.

The only problem for him was that he could not reveal his true identity to anyone. Not to Ron or Hermione or Hagrid. Tshaya had performed the complex magic that had transformed his face. He would be a new student, just starting and no one would know him. Dumbledore had granted his every wish, including putting him in Slytherin.

Harry looked at the Hogwarts crest on his letter. This is going to be really hard, he thought.

He consoled himself by thinking about Nadya and the rest of her people. He would be returning to them in the summer. No more Dursleys.

Hogwart's Express pulled out of the station at exactly ten o'clock. The trip through the barrier was second nature to him. What wasn't natural to Harry was stowing his trunk into an empty compartment. What wasn't natural was missing the owl cage that usually contained his snowy white owl, Hedwig.

Harry arrived early and climbed aboard the steaming Express. His all new trunk and belongings were stowed. What was different were his clothes. He wore his Romani clothes; a pair of trousers, an embroidered vest, a blousey shirt and his scarf. The golden earring hung from one ear and a hat sat on his sun-bleached brown hair.

Harry had decided to take one thing from the muggle world before he gave it up entirely. That had been a pair of brown contact lenses. They had arrived at The Leaky Cauldron as he packed earlier in the day. He'd looked into the mirror. Katlana's charm was magical. He didn't recognize his own face.. The scar above his eye was transformed into a tattoo.

"Who are you? he asked the mirror.

"Well, that's a silly question, young man," the mirror answered. "If you don't know yourself, then I can't help you!"

Harry nodded.

Harry watched the crowd form on Platform 9 and ¾'s. As usual, it was full of families, luggage, owls, cats and trolleys. He saw all of the familiar faces he thought he would not see again and even thought he glimpsed the red hair of his friend Ron and his sister Ginny. But they moved away to the other end of the train and disappeared from view.

Harry spent the last few days of the holidays preparing himself for how he would feel when he got back on the train and saw his friends. But he knew as he sat watching out the window that there was no preparation and he felt miserable.

"Hello?" a stocky, tall boy dipped his pale-haired head into the compartment. Harry knew immediately who it was, even though Draco Malfoy had grown several inches and had put on weight. "Who are you?" The eyes roved over Harry's clothes, noting the foreign lok of him.

Harry stared back. "Tomas Pane," he said after a moment, "people generally call me Tommy." Harry noticed Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's ever-faithful thugs crowding in behind him.

Malfoy frowned at the two, "will you two watch where you're going. Slow down!" They obediently stood waiting for his orders. "Crabbe, you first!" The round-gorilla shaped boy slowly put his trunk into the rack and sat down.. The other followed. They had grown as well during the holidays and now resembled Hagrid's brother, a giant.

Draco plopped himself down in the seat in front of Harry. He smiled, running his silver-ringed hand along the window sill. Harry watched, amused. Malfoy looked very much like a little Prince Charming.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco nodded to the others and then pointedly ignored them. "You're new at Hogwarts. Obviously you're not a First Year student." The eyes roved over his clothing once again. "Where did you go to school before?"

Harry waited just long enough to see irritation in Draco's eyes. He wanted him to know that he wasn't intimidated. "I didn't go to school anywhere else. The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, I think his name is, has given me special permission to enter Hogwarts."

"How does that work? Do you get sorted with the rest of the First Year's?" Draco chortled. Crabbe and Goyle grinned in unison.

"I've been sorted already into Slytherin House," Harry answered.

Draco's eyebrows went up. "Really! Then you're a pureblood?" New respect showed on his face.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"And what family are you related to?" Draco asked, with interest.

"I am related to Professor Snape," Harry answered.

"Really!" Draco's eyes twinkled. "Well!" He turned with Harry to watch as the train pulled out of the station. Then he turned back, "I am Professor Snape's favorite student."

"Are you?" Harry asked and tried on his first-ever favorite Snape smirk..

"Yes. I'm one of the few student's that will be able to take his Advanced Potion's Class this year. I received one of the highest grades in my OWLS," Draco said glaring at him. "Do you know what an OWL is?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "I guess I will be joining you. I am listed for that class as well."

Draco's eyebrows once again went up. "What kind of clothes are you wearing? Why are you wearing an earring in your ear?"

Harry was enjoying this. "I work in a carnival during the holiday. I am a gypsy." Harry knew that Draco's respect for him was going up an down like a thermometer; at first hot and then cold.

"A gypsy?!" he laughed.

"Yes," Harry said and glared back. "And I'd wipe that smile off my face if you know what's good for you."

Draco's face went white. Crabbe and Goyle stopped laughing and stared at Harry.

"Who do you think you are?" Draco sneered.

"I'm Snape's favorite student now," Harry said, rocking a little with the motion of the train.

They arrived at the station in the dark. Harry pulled his trunk down and set it on the platform to be picked up with the rest of the luggage. He could hear a familiar voice ringing out. "First Years, this way." Straining, he caught a glimpse of the dark hulk that was Hagrid. The sound soothed him

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle followed behind him. Harry knew that he had achieved one more step in his plan. He had the upper hand. It had taken one small enchantment to do the trick. Jolie had been very clever in teaching it to him earlier that summer. That and Legilimens. Thank you Professor, he said to himself. That has come in very handy.

Harry climbed into the coach, along with the three docile Slytherins and rode to the castle in silence. He stared out of the window, sadness enveloping his heart.

"What the devil happened, Dumbledore?!" Snape stood in front of the Headmaster's desk, the very same evening. His face was contorted with fury. "He's dead! It wasn't the plan to let him walk out there alone and be killed." Snape began to pace. "Although, I'm not surprised that he was. Where were you?!" He turned his back on the serene looking face of the older man. "What was it all for anyway?"

Dumbledore looked at the stiff figure before him. "That's why I called you here, Severus. Harry is not dead."

Snape swirled on his heel and glared at Dumbledore. "He's what?!"

"He's not dead," Dumbledore said it again very plainly. "The body we buried yesterday was not Harry. It was Peter Pettigrew."

"What?!" Snape face's turned from sallow to an unhealthier hue of scarlet red.

"I could not tell you what was planned. Harry sends his apologies. We both knew that you would... take the heat, as the muggles like to say, for his death." Dumbledore held up a hand as Snape appeared to be about to burst forth again.

"He is on his way here even as we speak. Transformed you might say," Dumbledore said smiling a little. "No one will recognize him, Severus. His friends have made that possible." They both knew who he was talking about. "And he is to be in your House."

Snape drew himself up and grasped his arms over his chest." Oh, really! And do I not have a say in this?"

"No, Severus, you do not." It was Dumbledore's turn to stand stiffly, nose to nose with the man dressed in black. Snape backed down and Dumbledore turned and sat in front of his cold fireplace. "Come and have tea with me, Severus."

"No, thank you," Snape hissed.

"Then come and sit down!" Dumbledore insisted.

Snape sat and stared, anger flashing in his black eyes. "It was you that shot the wand from my hand." Dumbledore nodded. "You kept me from protecting him?" Dumbledore nodded again. "It was all to fool..."

"Voldemort? Yes." Dumbledore said.

"How long do you think this trick can last?" Snape asked.

"We hope for two more years. Long enough for Harry to complete his education. Long enough for him to prepare."

"I see. So you used me? He used me?" Snape glared.

"Come now, Severus. We are all being used," he said. He whirled his wand and a tea set appeared at his elbow. "Do you think this little ploy is going to make a difference for long? Harry told me that you know the prophecy. All we can do is fight the war for him until he can do it for us. And believe me, Severus, war is coming. Now that Voldemort..." Snape sucked in his breath sharply, "Voldemort thinks Harry is dead, he will try to take over as he did before. We are all in danger. Thankfully, his eye is turned from Hogwarts for the present," Dumbledore poured two cups of tea. " Severus, you helped save the one person who might make a difference in the end."

Snape studied the calm exterior of his headmaster. "You could have at least informed me, Albus. I think you owed me that much."

"It was not for me to say. It's Harry's life and Harry's decision," he sipped again.

"So Harry is in my House?" Snape picked up his tea.

"Yes. His name is Tomas Pane," Dumbledore said. "No one here at Hogwarts is to know that he is Harry, other than you and me. No one, Severus."

Snape sipped at the hot tea, and said under his breath, "Tommy!"

"By the way," Dumbledore blew on the hot tea, "Harry did tell me that I was to let you know that he will be telling everyone he is related to you."

Snape's teacup dropped to the floor and shattered.

"REPARO, teacup," Dumbledore said and refilled the cup.

The Sorting Ceremony was complete. The feast had been eaten. The room was quiet and Dumbledore stood to address them. Black drapes once again adorned the Hall, just as they had when Cedric Diggory died. Harry knew what was coming next and dreaded it.

"We start a new year at Hogwarts, following a very eventful one last year," Dumbledore began. He was referring to the Ministry's interference and the Reign of Umbridge as Harry heard people describe it. "Welcome to new students and old students. I beg a few moments to tell you all about the start-of term notices and..." his voice dropped, "to tell you a story." Students whispered furiously across the Hall. Harry was surprised. He'd never known anyone to speak while Dumbledore was talking. It sounded like a wind.

"Yes...yes, many of you already know. And perhaps we should talk first and give out notices last." Dumbledore dropped his head and appeared to be thinking for a moment. "Just days ago, one of our very fine students died. He was one of the most courageous and bravest people I have ever had the privilege to know. And I think our world has lost something that we really cannot afford to lose; a hero." The buzzing grew louder. Harry heard the sudden sobbing of a dozen girls at the table's nearby. He glimpsed Cho Chang's stunned face at the Ravenclaw table. It appeared she had just learned of Harry's death.

"Draco leaned in to Harry's ear and whispered, "D'you know who Potter was?"

Harry felt his skin crawl at the heat of Draco's breath on his face. "No.."

"You know, The-Boy-Who-Lived? Draco spat.

"Yes. I've heard of him," Harry conceded, pulling back and shrugging off Malfoy's hand from his arm.

"My father helped kill him," Draco said, eyes burning with glee. "He was there when it happened."

Harry very much wanted to push the sneering face away from him in disgust.

"Harry Potter was killed by Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said. Again there was a gasp from the students and even more outcries. Harry could not see across the room to the Gryffindor table without standing up, but somewhere in the din he heard Hermione sobbing. He wanted to stand up and rush over to her. Harry's heart was torn even further when he looked at the staff table and saw McGonagall, Flitwick looking tearful and Hagrid weeping openly. Harry didn't look any further but stared at the table top, gripping the edge so hard he thought he'd break it in half.

"Please," Dumbledore's hands were in the air, pleading for calm. The room quieted. "The staff and I want to assure you that you are all safe here at Hogwarts. That is not to say that we should not all be vigilant. Times are changing and no one can really see into the future and know for certain all of our Fates."

Harry pleaded silently that this would end and he could go off to bed. This was all so horribly painful. He looked up and a gap appeared between the bodies of students. He was looking directly at Ron. The freckled face was ashen. Harry could tell that Ron was looking past him and didn't recognize him. Please let it end Dumbledore, let it be over.

"I think perhaps it is best if the Prefects instruct the new students on the rules and that we say good night for now," Dumbledore's voice dropped and he sat back abruptly in his chair. Harry was torn at the performance he was watching. Dumbledore was so convincing that Harry could feel himself returning to the night when Dumbledore talked about Cedric Diggory and his death.

The Hall remained deadly silent until a voice rang out. A quavering, tearful McGonagall rose to her feet. "Would the Head Boy and Girl please help the Prefects. It is time to go to bed. We have a very long day ahead of us tomorrow."

People stood and began to gather at the entrance to the Hall, separating into streams; some going up the staircases and others to the dungeons. Harry was pulled by the strong desire to let his feet carry him up the staircase to Gryffindor tower. Instead, he allowed a very compliant and friendly Malfoy to guide him down the corridor to Slytherin common rooms.