Another City, Not My Own

"ANOTHER CITY, NOT MY OWN"
Chapter Eighteen
"Homecoming"

Jeremy Wight stood in the Hogwarts Owlery, in front of Hedwig's nest box. Her eggs still hadn't hatched, but Hedwig was keeping them very warm, and Jeremy could feel the owl chicks moving inside their shells when he touched them. Hornsby sat on a nearby rafter, having been temporarily banished from the nest box because, as Jeremy understood it, Hedwig was sick of him asking her every five minutes, "Any pecks yet?"--meaning he wanted to know if the owl chicks had started pecking their way out from inside their shells.

Hedwig gave Jeremy a worried hoot. He had told her yesterday morning about Harry's departure for Latrece two nights ago, and she was concerned for her master. She hated it, she said, when he left Hogwarts without her.

"We heard that he made it down there okay," Jeremy told her, "but no word since then. Don't worry about him. He can take care of himself. Besides, you've got enough to think about right now, Mama."

Jeremy wasn't too concerned about Harry. If even half the stories told around Hogwarts were true, Harry Potter was a survivor. He would come back from this mission, just as he had somehow come back from all the others--even those from which, it was rumored, no one else in the world could have returned.

Jeremy was more worried about Professor McGonagall. On his way up to the Owlery that morning, he had heard several whispered conversations between teachers. It seemed that whatever treatment they were giving McGonagall to slow the poison was losing its effect. Her condition was starting to deteriorate.

Jeremy had known Professor McGonagall for less than a year. He did not know her personally as well as some of the older Hogwarts students did. But he knew that she was an excellent teacher, and that in itself mattered to him. He also knew that she was essential to the school, and to Dumbledore's efforts against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his forces. If McGonagall died, it would be a major blow not only to the students and teachers at Hogwarts, but to all the wizards who had ever worked with her, and in some cases had even been taught by her. In Jeremy's case, his father, mother, and uncle--all graduates of Hogwarts--would be devastated, he knew, to learn of her death.

He walked to an open window in the Owlery and looked out across the Hogwarts lake. It was another gray morning, and tendrils of mist were floating across the water. Off in the distance, the giant squid was skimming the surface of the lake along the far shore. Jeremy thought of the boat ride that he had taken across the lake with the other first-years on his first night at Hogwarts at the beginning of the Fall term. Professor McGonagall had been the first teacher to greet them when they'd entered the school.

Movement on the water caught Jeremy's eye. A minute ago, the lake surface had been smooth and calm. Now, suddenly, large white bubbles were erupting in the middle of the lake. As Jeremy watched, these bubbles suddenly swirled into an enormous whirlpool. And then, to his amazement, something white and triangular-shaped started to rise from the center of the vortex. It took him a moment to realize that it was the bow of a ship, rising up from under the water.

The ship broke the surface like a submarine emerging from the depths. Its arrow-shaped bow lurched high in the air and came down with a crash on the water. Gray, foamy waves broke away from the boat and washed across the lake surface. Jeremy stared at the ship. It looked like some kind of luxury yacht. It was very big, and covered with seaweed and kelp--the result, probably, of being underwater.

Whatever it was, it was obviously something that Professor Dumbledore would want to know about right away. Jeremy turned and dashed out of the Owlery, heading for the Great Hall.

* * *

Rubeus Hagrid had been up since four A.M., as was his custom. After a light breakfast of eggs and bacon, black pudding, mushrooms and sausages, fried bread, baked beans, and coffee, he'd gone up to the hospital wing to check on Professor McGonagall. The news was not good. Madam Pomfrey said that the poison in the professor's body was starting to fight against the Ioreth's Root formula. McGonagall was starting to jerk and convulse more in her sleep, a clear sign that the Chimaera's Root was taking hold in her bloodstream and breaking down her resistance. If the means for an antidote did not present itself within the next few hours, Madam Pomfrey said, all hope would be lost.

Hagrid walked along the edge of the Hogwarts lake with Fang by his side, on his way to chop up some tangled driftwood that the giant squid had tossed up on the south shore. His thoughts were on Professor McGonagall. What would this school do without her if she died?

And what about Harry? Yesterday morning, Dumbledore had received word that Harry had made it safely to Latrece on his broom. But that was twenty-four hours ago. Anything could have happened since then. And Hagrid knew from experience that if "anything" could happen, it usually ended up happening to Harry Potter.

Please let him be all right

, Hagrid prayed, as he walked along the shore. Please don't let him be in over his head right now. Please help all of us to get through this somehow.

Fang barked suddenly at something out on the water. Hagrid looked across the lake and saw the gray water beginning to foam. He watched in disbelief as the whirlpool formed in the center of the lake, and the great white bow of the ship rose up from beneath the surface. He stared as the ship crashed down and settled upright with its stern facing the castle. It was a luxury yacht of some kind, with the name "Maquis Mouse II," painted across the back of the boat

What in Merlin's name was this?

* * *

"Now I know how a bug feels after it's been caught inside a jackhammer," Harry groaned as he staggered down the lower deck hallway on the Maquis Mouse II.

Gabrielle stumbled down the hall just ahead of him. They were both clutching the walls with both hands to keep from falling over. "Zey say zat traveling through ze Whirlpool takes a bit of getting used to."

"Have you gotten used to the Whirlpool yet?" Harry asked her.

Gabrielle shrugged. "Well...I no longer throw up when we use it."

Madame Delacour called down to them from the pilothouse. "Gabrielle? Harry? Are you both all right down there?"

"We are fine, Maman!" Gabrielle called up.

"I think we left my stomach in Latrece," Harry added.

Madame Delacour came down the stairs to the lower deck. She laughed when she saw their exhausted expressions. "Well, you both look a bit worse for wear. Shaken, but not stirred, as they say."

"Oh, I don't know," said Harry. "I think we were pretty well shaken and stirred on this trip."

Madame Delacour gestured for Harry and Gabrielle to follow her back up the staircase. "Come! We need you at the helm, Harry. We need you to look out the window and tell us if we are in the right lake."

When they reached the pilothouse, Monsieur Delacour pointed out through the windshield in front of them. "Do you recognize where we are?"

Harry squinted. He could see nothing through the windshield but gray-white mist encircling the boat.

"Just a minute!" From his pocket, he pulled out his wand and the Traveler's Map. "O Traveler's Map, hear my incantation. Lead me now to my destination."

The map showed himself and Gabrielle standing on a boat in the center of a lake. Just behind the boat, on the shore of the lake, the map showed an image of a huge castle, clearly labeled "Hogwarts."

"The castle's back that way," Harry said, thumbing towards the stern of the ship. "We've come out of the Whirlpool backwards--I mean, facing away from Hogwarts!"

Monsieur Delacour started the engine. It sputtered for a few moments, as if expelling a great deal of sea water, and then roared to life. He turned the steering wheel, and the boat started to circle around on the lake surface. Harry kept his eyes focused ahead, staring through the windshield. Then, as he watched, a tall cliff materialized out of the fog. Sitting on the cliff was an enormous castle, with tall stone towers and high granite walls crowded with windows. It was definitely Hogwarts!

"What do you know?" Harry whispered, smiling. "There's no place like home."

* * *

"They say McGonagall's not doing too well," Ginny told Hermione as they entered the Great Hall together. "The Ioreth's Root treatment is starting to fail. The toxins from the Chimaera's Root are wearing down her defenses. They don't think she can hold out much longer."

Hermione looked around the Great Hall. She could tell that the news of Professor McGonagall's condition had reached the students there. The room was almost silent, except for a few hushed conversations at each table. Her classmates were whispering to each other with looks of concern on their faces, as if they feared that the worst news about McGonagall might be announced at any moment.

"Let's get some breakfast," Hermione said to Ginny. "Then let's go up to the hospital wing and see if there's anything we can do to help Madam Pomfrey."

The two girls sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Seamus Finnigan. Neville Longbottom sat across from them, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Morning, Neville," Ginny said, trying to sound cheerful. "What's new in the world?"

Neville looked up from his paper. His face was very pale. "Oh, not much," he said in a dazed tone. "The price of new cauldrons is going up. The Ministry of Magic is trying to regulate the import of astrolabes. Harry Potter is flying his broomstick through the Carnival parade in Latrece in full view of thousands of Muggles and causing all sorts of mayhem." He shrugged, casually. "Just another typical morning at Hogwarts."

Ginny and Hermione stared at him. Neville solemnly passed them the paper. Hermione opened it and they read the headlines:

"BROOMSTICK FLIERS DISRUPT MUGGLE CELEBRATION IN FRANCE. -- Carnival parade in disarray. -- Muggle crowds watch in horror. -- Multiple accidents in traffic tunnel. -- Muggle marketplace wrecked. -- Bats made homeless from bell tower."

Hermione stared at the paper, open-mouthed. "I told him not to make it personal!"

"This is bad!" Ginny said, wincing. "This is very, very bad!"

"I'll say," said Seamus, who was reading past her shoulder. "One hundred galleons for a new pewter cauldron? That's outrageous!"

Annoyed, Ginny backhanded him on the arm. Seamus shrank back. "OW! Hey! What was that for?!"

Ginny looked back at the paper. "Does it say what happened to the boys on the broomsticks? Were any of them arrested or anything?"

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't say. It just says that some of the boys ended up in a large fountain in front of a hotel in Latrece--and that one of the boys tried to strangle the hotel manager when they were told that only guests of the hotel were allowed to swim in the fountain."

She looked over at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore sat in his usual seat. Standing next to Dumbledore's chair, Professor Snape was showing the headmaster a copy of the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore had a bewildered look on his face. Snape, of course, looked absolutely furious.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered. Then, to her surprise, she saw Jeremy Wight dash into the Great Hall and run up to the staff table.

* * *

Jeremy skidded to a halt in front of Dumbledore and Snape. He had never spoken personally to the headmaster before, but now seemed like a good time. He leaned against the staff table, gasping for breath.

At first he couldn't form the words. His throat was too dry from running all the way down the stairs from the Owlery. Dumbledore, sensing that Jeremy had something important to tell him, calmly poured a quarter-glass of orange juice from a nearby pitcher and handed it to the boy.

Jeremy took a few gulps of juice. "Sir," he sputtered. "Out on the lake--there's a big white boat--it just popped up out of the water--came up out of a giant whirlpool, sir!"

Dumbledore stood up slowly. "Show me."

Jeremy limped across the hall to the nearest window. Dumbledore and Snape followed. At the window, Jeremy pointed down to the Hogwarts lake, to the huge boat that was now moving across the water through the morning mist. From this new vantage point, Jeremy could see that the ship was at least sixty feet long, with a raised pilothouse and black-tinted windows. Then, as he watched, a door on the side of the pilothouse opened, and Harry Potter stepped out onto the foredeck.

Jeremy's jaw dropped. Leaving Dumbledore and Snape at the window, he turned and ran to the Gryffindor table, stopping behind Hermione and Ginny. "Harry's out on the lake! He just--popped up out of the water in a big boat! He's out there right now!"

Hermione, Ginny, and Neville looked at him. Hermione stood up and pointed towards the Ravenclaw table. "Go tell Cho Chang! And tell Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley over in Hufflepuff as well!"

* * *

Great Hungarian Horntails! It CAN'T be!

From the lake shore, Hagrid watched as Harry Potter stepped out onto the foredeck of the huge yacht. The boy looked very tired and slightly dizzy, like a space traveler emerging from his capsule after a rough flight and a hard splashdown. Harry held onto the side of the pilothouse and walked carefully along the slick, kelp-covered bow of the ship. He seemed to be checking the hull for damage. When he spotted Hagrid on the shore, he waved.

Hagrid smiled. He knew that Harry would not have come back so soon unless he'd accomplished his mission, unless he'd found a way to save his teacher.

Shoulda known

, Hagrid thought. Shoulda known he'd never let us down.

His booming laugh echoed across the water!

* * *

It was a relief for Harry to hear Hagrid laughing. He knew that his friend wouldn't be greeting him with laughter if Professor McGonagall had died while he was away. It meant that he was in time to save her.

The morning mist and cold air felt wonderfully fresh against his face. He breathed in the scent of the lake and felt it reinvigorate his tired body. It was as much a part of home as everything else in this magical place. He opened the pilothouse door, and stepped back inside the yacht.

"There's a lot of debris out there, but I didn't see any damage on the bow," he said, pointing through the windshield at the foredeck. "I think you're okay. There's a small dock over here on the shore. Hagrid built it a few years ago for the Durmstrang ship. I think you can tie up your boat there."

Madame Delacour pointed towards the castle. "It looks as if your friends are coming out to meet you."

Students were pouring out of the castle and running down toward the lake shore. Harry stared at them for a moment, then suddenly looked at his watch. It said 8:00 AM, but his watch was still on France time. It was 7:00 AM, local time. He'd been away from Hogwarts for just a little more than 36 hours!

Standing between Monsieur and Madame Delacour, Harry put his forearms on the helm and leaned wearily against it. Strange how much 36 hours could feel like a year.

"Are you all right?" Gabrielle asked, beside him.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Harry. He looked around at the family standing with him in the pilothouse. "Thank you. Thank you all."

* * *

The Maquis Mouse II pulled up alongside the lakeshore dock. Hagrid was already there. Harry came back out on the foredeck and tossed the bowline to his friend. Monsieur Delacour cut the engine as Hagrid secured the boat to the dock.

"Good ter have yeh back, Harry!" shouted the giant.

"Can you give me a hand down here?" Harry asked. It was too far for him to jump down from the top of the foredeck.

Hagrid looked back at the mob of students that was now racing for the lake shore. He looked up at Harry and grinned. "Yeh sure yeh don't want ter stay up there?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. Hagrid held his hand up. Harry grasped it and stepped down onto Hagrid's huge shoulder. Hagrid knelt and Harry jumped down from his shoulder onto the dock.

As the crowd of students reached the pier, Harry was suddenly afraid that he might be forced back off the edge of the dock into the water. Hagrid stood up in front of him, holding his arms out like a wall. "Hold it! Hold it, now! Give 'im a bit o' room!"

But Hagrid was very selective in restraining the students who were mobbing the dock. He allowed Ginny Weasley to duck under his arm. She grabbed Harry in an embrace, kissed him, and whispered. "Welcome home, Traveler!"

Harry smiled and leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. If there was a face that I'd always want to welcome me home, this would be the one.

Hermione made her way around Hagrid's massive bulk and threw her arms around Harry's neck. Looking up at the sixty-foot yacht, she asked, "What on earth is this?"

"I'll explain later," Harry said, wearily.

A magical Crack!--like a firecracker--sounded from behind the crowd. Everyone turned to see Dumbledore coming down the bank, his wand pointed in the air. He was accompanied by Professor Sprout and Professor Snape.

"Let me through, please! Let me through!" he shouted. The students parted. Harry walked around Hagrid and up the bank, supported by Ginny and Hermione, to meet the headmaster.

"Am I in time?" he asked.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Do you have it?"

Harry unzipped his jacket and pulled the small bottle out of his inside pocket. He looked at the label one last time--"Radix Chimaera"--to assure himself that he had come back from Latrece with the right bottle, and gave it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore read the label on the bottle and passed it to Professor Sprout, who was red-faced and puffing heavily from her jog down the bank. "Is it enough for you to make an antidote, Iris?"

Professor Sprout held the bottle up to her eyes and checked its contents. "Yes! It should be enough!"

She handed the bottle to Professor Snape, who gave Harry a glaring look.

"I know!" Harry said, quickly. "I made a real mess of things. You can chew me out later. But right now, just go make the antidote, please!"

Snape turned and started up the bank. "Longbottom! Weasley! With me!"

Neville glanced up the bank, ruefully. He reached out and thumped Harry on the shoulder. "Glad you made it back all right."

"I'll see you later," said Ginny. She kissed Harry once more on the cheek, and followed Neville and Professor Sprout up the bank.

"You caused a real stir in Latrece, I understand," said Dumbledore.

"I know," Harry said, again. "I have no excuses. I throw myself on the mercy of the court. I'm too tired to defend myself."

The mob of students surrounding him laughed. Even Dumbledore smiled. "You will have to answer some questions, you know? From me, and from the Ministry of Magic most likely." He walked down the bank and held out his hand to Harry. "But we'll handle that matter as it comes. For now, welcome home. And thank you."

Harry took Dumbledore's hand. Beside them, Cho Chang started a round of applause that swept through the crowd gathered on the bank.

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "If everyone would please head back up to the castle. Our young traveler looks as if he needs a bit of rest."

The students all started back up the banks. Hands reached out to Harry as they passed, and he grasped them as best he could, saying "Thank you" as his classmates said, "Welcome home," and "Good to have you back."

"Well, I must say, Harry. You certainly know how to make a dramatic homecoming," Dumbledore commented, looking at the Maquis Mouse II. "Ah, and these I take it are your fellow adventurers?"

Harry turned. Hagrid had just helped Madame Delacour down from the foredeck of the yacht, and was now helping Gabrielle. The veela girl laughed as Hagrid lifted her from his shoulder and set her down on the dock. Monsieur Delacour was up on the bow, kicking debris off the side of the deck.

"Yes," said Harry. "I never would have gotten my hands on the Chimaera's Root without their help. And I wouldn't have made it back here in time without their boat."

"Well, then!" said Dumbledore. "I must welcome them as our guests." He started down the shore to greet the Delacours.

Hermione stood beside Harry, his arm still around her shoulder. "So Fleur sent her family to help you."

"Yeah, that little girl there," Harry said, pointing to Gabrielle. "She helped me to break the crystal lock in the Chateau Malfoy. The Chimaera's Root was right where Dobby said it would be. Which reminds me!"

He looked around the lake shore. There were still a few students lingering about, watching the enormous yacht. Someone was bound to see this. But Harry didn't care.

"If Ginny asks about this," he said to Hermione, "tell her I owed you this one!"

He took Hermione by the shoulders and suddenly kissed her right on the lips. She stared at him in surprise, then burst out laughing. "What was that for?!"

"For teaching me how to do a Summoning Charm," Harry told her. "And for teaching me a bunch of other spells that I used to bust my way out of the Chateau Malfoy. I never would have made it out of there in one piece without everything I learned from you."

Hermione laughed and hugged him again. "Glad to be of help!"

Harry held her close for a moment. "Any word from Ron yet?"

"No," Hermione said, sadly. She looked at him, and brushed her hand down the side of his face. "But at least I've got you back safe and sound. That's something I can be thankful for."

She looked back up the bank. "I'd better go up and see if I can help Ginny and Neville with the antidote. I'll see you in a bit."

Harry watched Hermione walk up the bank towards the castle. He was about to walk back down to the dock and ask Monsieur Delacour if he needed any help with his yacht, when he spotted Jeremy Wight standing nearby.

"Hey, Jeremy," Harry said. "How are the eggs?"

Jeremy didn't answer. He stood on the bank, looking down at the dock with a stunned expression on his face. Harry followed Jeremy's line of sight, and realized that the boy was staring at Gabrielle Delacour. Gabrielle stood on the dock with her mother's hand on her shoulder. She was smiling and shaking hands with Dumbledore, who was welcoming her back to Hogwarts in fluent French.

Harry looked back at Jeremy. The first-year boy stared at Gabrielle as if he were in a trance. His mouth was half-open, and the color seemed to have risen in his cheeks. It was, Harry realized, one of the few times that he had ever seen Jeremy Wight look anything less than confident.

Harry laughed, and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. Oh, NO! he thought. He stepped forward, and snapped his fingers twice in front of Jeremy's face. "Hey!"

Jeremy looked at him, startled. "Huh?"

"How are the eggs?"

"What eggs?" Jeremy stammered. Then he remembered. "Oh, those eggs. Uhh, they're fine. Haven't hatched yet, but they're okay."

He looked back down the bank at Gabrielle. "Did you...did you bring an angel back with you?"

* * *

"You idiot!" Professor Snape shouted. He was waving a copy of the Daily Prophet with the report of the events in Latrece in Harry's face. "You imbecile! You moron! You cretin! You numbskull! You reckless, unthinking fool! How could you do such an incredibly stupid thing?!"

Well," Harry said, in a voice full of self-disgust, "I've been doing incredibly stupid things ever since I came to Hogwarts. So when I got to Latrece, I figured why should I break the habit?"

"Potter, I swear you belong in a padded cell in St. Mungo's!" Snape roared.

"If they'll let me have visitors on the weekends, I'll take it," Harry said, earnestly. "Believe me, I'd appreciate the monotony! Look, I told you, I didn't have a choice! Malfoy and his gang were trying to kill us! We couldn't stop running, and they wouldn't stop chasing us!"

He had been back at Hogwarts for five hours now. Dumbledore had pressed him to go to Gryffindor tower and get some sleep, but Harry had decided to wait up and see if the Chimaera's Root antidote would work for Professor McGonagall. Now, he was wishing that he'd taken Dumbledore's advice.

Immediately after making the antidote with Professor Sprout, Snape had come up to Dumbledore's office, where Harry was waiting. He had instantly demanded Harry's explanation for the events in Latrece. So Harry had told Dumbledore and Snape the whole story, starting with his break-in at the Chateau Malfoy, continuing with the flight through the Carnival parade and the rest of the city, and ending with his confrontation with Malfoy at the hotel. As he gave his account, Dumbledore sat behind his desk listening, while Snape stood glowering in a nearby corner.

"Of all the irresponsible lunatic stunts!" Snape shouted after he finished. He paced around Harry's chair like a Grand Inquisitor, slapping his Daily Prophet copy with the back of his hand. "Do you have any idea how much damage you've caused?! And I don't mean the damage to Muggle property, although you caused plenty of that! You've created a full-blown international scandal here! The French Ministry of Magic is demanding to know why Harry Potter and a bunch of English schoolboys on broomsticks are flying through the city of Latrece and causing more destruction than the Luftwaffe!"

"How did they know it was me?" Harry asked. "For that matter, how did they even know I was English?"

"I believe what tipped them off in that regard was when you flew your broom down the Auto-Route tunnel on the left side of the road," Snape said, sarcastically. "After that, they started questioning the Muggles who saw you. It seems that some of them reported that one of the flying boys wore glasses and had a scar on his forehead. At that point, I believe it could be said that your 'secret identity' was compromised!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Way to go, stupid, he said to himself. You've got wizards on both sides of the Channel mad at you now.

The truth was, he was granting Professor Snape a favor by giving the Potions Master the first crack at chewing him out. When this was over--assuming that it didn't end with Harry's expulsion from the magic world--he and Snape would have to go back to work together on the Green Flame Torch. Snape would be much easier to work with again if Harry gave his potions teacher the opportunity to rake his least-favorite student across the coals and get it out of his system.

The British Ministry of Magic would be a far more serious matter. It was not unknown for them to pass sentence on offenders without giving them a chance to defend themselves. Harry only hoped that Dumbledore could convince the Ministry to give him a fair hearing before they passed any kind of judgement on him.

For his part, Dumbledore seemed to be half-enjoying Snape's grilling of Harry. The headmaster sat behind his desk and seemed to be trying very hard not to smile as Snape paced around Harry, yelling at him while Harry slowly sank lower in his seat.

"This whole bloody mess you've created will set the wizard world back years! Centuries, even!" Snape was saying now. "You do realize it's going to be next to impossible for the French Ministry to find all of the Muggles in Latrece who saw you and put Memory Charms on them?"

"Actually, Severus," Dumbledore said, speaking for the first time, "that sort of thing may not be necessary. According to the Daily Prophet, Harry's suspicions were correct. Most of the Muggles in Latrece who saw him flying through the Carnival parade simply assumed that he and the other boys were part of the entertainment, that they were some kind of special effect that didn't work as it was supposed to."

"And what of those Muggles who didn't see him in the parade?" Snape demanded. "What about those who saw him flying through the market, or in the traffic tunnel?"

Dumbledore picked up a copy of Le Prévision Journalier, a French wizard newspaper, lying on his desk. "The French Ministry's Office of Misinformation has already taken steps to handle that circumstance. They've put out a cover story, saying that the incident in Latrece was, as many who saw the parade assumed, a Carnival stunt that went awry. The story is that some helium balloons, shaped like boys on broomsticks, sprung leaks and got away from the Carnival parade, and subsequently flew out of control through the town."

Harry and Snape stared at Dumbledore in disbelief.

"Look, Professor," said Harry, "with all due respect to the French Ministry of Magic, I don't think anyone who saw me flying over Latrece last night is going to believe that I was a runaway helium balloon."

"You'd be surprised what people will believe, Harry," said Dumbledore. "According to Le Prévision Journalier, the Muggle press has already picked up the story. The organizers of the Carnival parade in Latrece have already issued an apology for the incident. They are quoted as saying that they have no idea how the helium balloons got into the parade, but that they will definitely not be included in next year's celebration."

Dumbledore folded his newspaper and set it down on the desk. "I assure you that many Muggles who saw you last night will believe the story that you were a helium balloon, simply because they can't come up with any other logical explanation to fit the facts. Even if they don't believe the cover story, most of them will keep quiet about what they saw, for fear that other Muggles will doubt their sanity if they start talking. After all, who would believe a story about boys flying on magic broomsticks? And if any of them do talk--well, that will make it easier for the French Ministry of Magic to find them and put Memory Charms on them."

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore continued, looking at him, "I believe you when you say that you couldn't see any other way out of the situation in Latrece, other than to do what you did. An older, more experienced wizard could perhaps have found a different way to escape his pursuers without attracting so much attention. But as your headmaster, I must bear in mind that, as much as you know about magic--and you do know a great deal for a wizard your age--you still have much to learn."

"I'd be the first to admit that," Harry said.

"I will, of course, defend your actions to the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued. "I'll tell them that you were acting to save your own life and the life of your friend, Miss Delacour, to say nothing of Professor McGonagall." He looked at Harry, solemnly. "But once again, I must impress upon you the seriousness of what you have done. It's getting harder and harder to hide our presence from the Muggles, especially with the actions of Lord Voldemort and his followers over the past year. An event such as this does not help matters. Please try to make sure that nothing like this ever happens again, if you can help it."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door of Dumbledore's office. Professor Sprout came in, with an expression of relief on her face.

"We have administered the antidote to Professor McGonagall," she said slowly, "and it seems to be working. The poison seems to be in remission. It will be another few hours before she is truly out of danger--but her prognosis looks very good at this point."

Harry and Professor Dumbledore both let out sighs of relief. Harry felt all the tension drain from his body. As far as he was concerned, it didn't matter what the Ministry of Magic did to him now. It had all been worth it.

"Is there anything you need, Iris?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, sir," said Professor Sprout, looking at Snape, "it might be a good idea if we had an additional dose of the antidote on hand, in case it is needed. We have enough left of the Chimaera's Root to make one more dose."

"A sensible suggestion," said Dumbledore. "If you would, Severus."

Snape gave Harry a final withering look. "Good luck with the Ministry of Magic, Potter. You're going to need it. Pity they no longer use the torture rack to extract confessions."

"Yes, it's a real shame," Harry said, dryly. "I've always wanted to be taller."

Snape left with Professor Sprout. When they were alone, Harry looked at Dumbledore. "How much trouble can we really expect from the Ministry of Magic?"

"Well, one would hope that after the events of last year, they'll be more inclined to listen to you, Harry, before they pass judgement," said Dumbledore. "You'll probably have to appear before them, of course, and give your testimony as to what happened. I probably don't need to tell you this, but it would be in your best interest to stick to the facts. Tell them exactly what you have told me. Be honest. With any luck they'll recognize that you were acting under extreme circumstances. They probably won't call for your expulsion from Hogwarts, but they may choose to impose a stiff fine on you. That's the usual penalty when it comes to handling wayward broomstick flyers."

"I could live with a fine," said Harry. He looked at Dumbledore again. "Wait a second! What do you mean, 'that's the usual penalty?' You mean this sort of thing has happened before?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, come now, Harry. Flying brooms have been around for centuries. You think you're the first young whippersnapper who's ever taken a joyride on his broom through a Muggle town at night?"

"Really?" said Harry. "Others have done it before? Like who, for instance?"

Dumbledore's smile broadened.

Harry stared at him. "You're kidding!"

"I was young once too, Harry," said Dumbledore, with a shrug. "When I was fifteen years old, my brother Aberforth and I borrowed our parents' brooms and went out for a little spin on All Hallow's Eve. We took a headlong flight through the local village of Allensgate. It was well after midnight, and we figured that no one would see us."

"But you were wrong?"

"No, we were correct in that assumption. All of the Muggles in the town had gone to bed, and no one did see us. Unfortunately, in the course of our night ride, we happened to fly over the livestock stalls in the marketplace. The next day was a Market Day, and a local farmer had brought in a herd of about fifty pigs to sell. When the pigs saw us flying over their heads, they panicked, knocked down the door of their stall, and went stampeding through the streets. They flattened fences, overturned carts, even trampled the town constable who was out making his rounds. Nearly killed the poor man! One of the pigs even got into the local post office somehow and did a great deal of damage in there. The whole herd was last seen heading south on Brighton Road, towards the village of Glenberry. None of the lot was ever recaptured."

"Did you have to answer to the Ministry?" Harry asked, chuckling. "They didn't put you on the rack, did they?"

"Oh, no," said Dumbledore. "My father was a ranking member of the Ministry council, you see. The Ministry knew that he would be far more brutal in punishing us than they could ever be. When my brother and I returned home, my mother took her broom back from us and nearly knocked our heads off with it! Then my father turned us into pigs for a month. We had to live in the pigsty and eat swill every day with the rest of them. At that time, it was the worst month I'd ever spent in my whole young life."

"I hope the Ministry of Magic doesn't decide to turn me into a pig for what I did last night," Harry said.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry. Those punishments are from a bygone day." Dumbledore turned and looked out his office window, musing. "At any rate, if the Ministers start to suggest severe forms of punishment for you, Arthur Weasley and I will 'casually mention' certain incidents in the Ministers' histories that they would like to forget. I believe Mafalda Hopkirk once turned a Muggle policeman into an orangutan. Apparently, the poor man tried to arrest her because he thought, from her mode of wizard dress, that she was something called a 'transvestite.' Mafalda changed him back right away, of course, but the Ministry of Magic was not so forgiving when she--"

Dumbledore looked back at Harry and stopped. Harry had fallen asleep in his chair, his head bent so that his chin touched his chest, his arms folded across his lap.

The headmaster laughed softly. "Oh, Harry," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "You'll either be the death of us all, or our salvation. Now all I have to do is figure out which one."

Dumbledore called Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas up to his office. They half-carried, half-dragged Harry back to his room in Gryffindor tower. Harry slept, dreaming of a sandy beach next to an azure blue sea, and of a girl in a white dress with flaming red hair walking in the sand. He awoke seventeen hours later, just in time to watch the sun rise on the first clear day at Hogwarts in over four months.