Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link

semprini

Story Summary:
The morning after his defeat of Voldemort, Harry awakens feeling disturbed and uneasy, but not knowing why. Wanting nothing more than to stay at Grimmauld Place and be left alone, he finds himself unable to get what he needs. Angry goblins, unleashed dementors, well-meaning friends, and a debt to Narcissa Malfoy demand a reluctant Harry's time and attention. Resisting praise, expectations, and offers of employment, he is finally drawn into a trial that rivals the most difficult ones he has ever faced.

Chapter 04 - The Baby and the Knut

Chapter Summary:
As pressure from the goblins to be compensated for their losses escalates, fallout from the trio’s actions in the past year causes distress for Hermione and one of the Weasleys; Harry’s strong aversion to being told what to do brings him close to conflict with Molly.
Posted:
04/22/2008
Hits:
3,165


Chapter 4

The Baby and the Knut

Back in his bedroom--Sirius's bedroom; he could never quite think of it as his--he lay on the bed, mulling things over. The conversation with Pinter had strengthened, and to him, justified his reluctance to publicly tell the story of what had happened. Look what happens, he thought, when the media gets a hold of something. God only knows what they'd find in what we did that would make us look bad. It intensified his mood, which tended to be slightly negative by default.

That thought caused him to brood on that topic for a while. Earlier, he thought, I was given society's highest honor, stood in a public place, and was applauded loudly by a few thousand people. You'd think I'd be happy, but for me it was just a job, something I had to do. What would make me happy? Why do I look at Ginny as some kind of obligation instead of something that makes me happy? When was I last happy? Talking to Aberforth, I was, at least, not unhappy. Why? Because he treats me like anyone else? No... she doesn't treat me like a hero, but she does want something from me, I think. I broke up with her a year ago, and she accepted that, but probably now she thinks that since the reason I did it isn't valid anymore, I should get back with her. But I can't... she expects something of me, maybe that's it. Aberforth expects nothing of me, except that I pay my bar tab. But Ginny, Bill and Fleur with the baby, Kingsley, people on the street, they all expect something of me, and I run away from that. Why? I guess I've never liked that--remember Hog's Head in fifth year--but this feels different. But I have no bloody idea why...

A half hour later, tired of his ruminations and having made no progress, he resignedly went downstairs to check the mail again. Before he got there, however, another idea occurred to him. He asked Kreacher for a medium-sized black cloth, which the surprised house-elf quickly provided him. He went back upstairs, looked at the statue of himself that Ron had brought, and draped the cloth over it. What was Kingsley thinking when he gave me this, thought Harry disgustedly. He had to know I'd hate this. Still not happy that it was so out in the open, he opened some drawers that appeared not to have been used for a long time. He found old clothes, some Hogwarts paperwork relating to Sirius, and to his surprise, large framed portraits of Sirius's mother, father, and brother. He supposed Sirius had been given these when he was young with the idea that he would put them up, but of course had shoved them in a drawer.

Harry thought for a minute, then took out the portrait of Regulus. He looked about the same age as Harry was now, with dark hair and a slightly grim expression most of the time. His face moved and changed expression, but didn't appear to be one of those portraits that had its own personality. Harry placed the portrait upright on the back left corner of the desk, shoving the statue (being careful not to touch it directly) behind it, out of sight. He thought it fitting; to him, Regulus was a symbol of someone who was raised on a Dark path, but came to his senses, and did what he could to fight what he now realized was wrong. He thought about Malfoy again. Could this be Malfoy's path? Or am I letting myself be too influenced by what Dumbledore wanted?

He went downstairs again, and picked up the mail; after what had happened with Hermione, he almost didn't want to, but knew he should. Again, most of it was fan mail, which he skimmed and quickly set aside. To his surprise, there was a short letter from Neville, thanking Harry for mentioning him so prominently in his speech. That owl got here fast, thought Harry.

There was also a letter from Andromeda Tonks. She congratulated Harry on his recent accomplishments, reminded him of his role as Teddy's godfather, and suggested that he visit her so he could learn about how to care for a baby. He didn't like the tone of the letter, which seemed to him to be mildly chastising him for not already having done so. Not if she's going to be that way about it, he thought. I'll do it when I feel like it, but not before. He set the letter aside.

After a few more fan letters, there was another one from a reporter, this time from the Prophet. Oh, God, what now, Harry wondered. With trepidation, he read, and found an article attached to a letter for him, explaining that the reporter was working on an article for the next day's Prophet The latest draft of the article was attached, and the reporter wanted Harry's comment and confirmation of the information in the article. He turned his attention to the second page.

Goblins Escalate Rhetoric, Point Claw at Potter

High-ranking Gringotts goblins today put further pressure on the Ministry to negotiate regarding their demands for compensation for losses suffered under the government controlled by the now-deceased evil Dark wizard Voldemort, threatening unspecified 'consequences' if their demands were not met.

The goblin sources, who as per their usual practice declined to be identified, expressed particular fury at yesterday's ceremony (see article, page 1) honoring Harry Potter and his close friends for their role in Voldemort's defeat. "It is bad enough that they are honoring such a criminal," said one high-level goblin, referring to the fact that Potter and his friends broke into a Gringotts vault to steal an artifact said to be crucial to Voldemort's defeat. "Then they possess the audacity to display a memory of the crime, clearly showing the guilt of the accused, only to have this be applauded lustily by the masses, and instantly and casually forgiven by the Minister of Magic. This is a direct and deliberate slap in the face to goblins, serving to remind us of our status as second-class citizens. This has been emphasized by the Minister's insulting delay in opening serious negotiations. Taken together, these provocations cannot be long ignored by the goblin community."

Minister Shacklebolt declined comment for this article, but Undersecretary Paul Clemons, head of the Non-Human Liaison Office, denied that any insult to goblins was intended. "We respect our friends in the goblin community," he said. "But they must understand that we too have been through a difficult time recently, and that the government is focusing its resources on helping those who were most harmed in recent months. As for Mr. Potter's actions, they were a regrettable necessity. As he pointed out, the consequences of not doing what he did were much worse, especially in the long term, even for our goblin friends. I think most would agree that his point was a quite reasonable one."

The goblin source disagreed. "Potter's statement regarding us--made, I should point out, after a joke at our expense--was arrogant, self-serving justification. The law is the law, and we are all responsible for our actions." Under repeated questioning, the goblin refused to address specifically Mr. Potter's point, repeatedly referring to the letter of the law.

In a surprise move, likely prompted by their anger with Mr. Potter, the goblins disclosed today that two days after Voldemort's defeat, Mr. Potter's house-elf went to Gringotts and withdrew the entire contents of his vault, estimated by the goblin source to be between seventy-five and one hundred thousand Galleons. "This action points directly and clearly to a consciousness of guilt," said the goblin. "It is nearly unprecedented for a wizard to empty out his vault, and it is nearly unprecedented for a wizard to send his house-elf to Gringotts in his stead."

[In the interest of accuracy, this reporter feels compelled to add that it is nearly unprecedented for the Gringotts goblins, with their reputation for secrecy, to disclose information about any transaction publicly, much less publicly estimate the value of the contents of any vault.]

"In addition, the timing of this withdrawal is highly suspicious," the goblin went on. "What are we to assume but that he wished to deny us the ability to reimburse our losses from his vault, as we would be entitled to do if he were found to be at fault? And why do so unless one knows that one is guilty, and responsible? Further, he clearly sent his house-elf in an effort to avoid having to answer to us for his crimes."

( space for Potter's comments )

As for the goblins' threats, those knowledgeable with goblin tactics suspect that they may threaten to limit the withdrawals of all customers as a pressure tactic. The last time the goblins had a serious dispute with the Ministry, in 1968, they initiated a drastic slowdown of services at Gringotts, causing customers to have to wait for hours to get into their vaults, resulting in long lines. The goblins at that time claimed that the long lines caused the slowdown, not the other way around. When asked about this possibility, the goblin source said, "We cannot control the number of people who attempt to access their vault. Long lines cause delays, no matter what business one is in." If the conflict continues to escalate, long lines could soon form in front of Gringotts, and those waiting may not care which was the cause, and which the effect.

Finished reading the draft article, Harry exhaled in frustration, got up from the chair in which he read the mail, walked to the sofa, and plopped onto it, lying on his back. What is wrong with them, he thought. Are they that selfish? Are they that embarrassed that someone got into a vault, and are they trying to make such a huge deal of it that no one ever tries again? The way I feel these days, this is the last damn thing I need.

He knew that he would have to comment, and he silently thanked the writer for sending him the draft article. Without it, he knew he probably wouldn't have commented, maintaining his usual silence. But reading the article, he got a sense of how it would look if he didn't say anything, and it wasn't good.

Kreacher walked through the room, carrying laundry. "Master Harry? Is there something Kreacher can fetch?

"A goblin's--no, never mind," he muttered. He had been about to say 'a goblin's head on a pike,' but stopped for fear that Kreacher would take him literally.

"Filthy goblins is troubling Master Harry?"

"Well, I don't know how filthy they are, but yes. You may not know, but Ron, Hermione, and I had to break into a Gringotts vault to... to accomplish Regulus's mission. There was an artifact in a vault--"

"Kreacher knows all about that, Master Harry," Kreacher said eagerly. "House-elves was talking about it at Hogwarts after the battle. They is amazed at Master Harry's bravery, and envies Kreacher for belonging to him."

Great, thought Harry sardonically. He went on to explain in simple terms what was in the article, Kreacher becoming more outraged by the minute. By the time Harry finished, he felt sure that Kreacher would go out and kill goblins without being instructed to do so.

Talking to Kreacher, however, had given Harry an idea. "Kreacher, I'd like you to go with me somewhere."

A short time later, he was in the office of Prophet reporter David Gleason, the article's writer, a distinguished-looking, portly man in his late fifties. "You want me to interview your house-elf," he said, with mild incredulity.

"Well, I would say something too, but he's the one who was there. It makes more sense that you'd ask him."

Still baffled, Gleason said, "You know, we usually don't quote house-elves. They're not considered to be people."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry responded, "Well, obviously they're not human, but I don't see why they shouldn't be treated the way we treat people."

Now, Gleason had a small grin. "You grew up in a Muggle home, sometimes I forget. Your attitude has a certain... innocence that I find appealing. Well, all right, but I'll have to fight with my editors to get this in. There is one problem, though: his testimony won't be considered persuasive. A house-elf will say anything you tell him to say."

Not having thought of that, Harry frowned, then had an idea. He crouched and faced Kreacher. "Kreacher, what I'm about to say is an order. Everything you say to this man must be the truth. You can decide not to answer a question if you want to, but if you answer, it must be truthful, even if that contradicts any order I've previously given. Do you understand?"

Kreacher nodded earnestly. "Of course, Master Harry. Kreacher understands."

Harry nodded. "Sorry. I know you would anyway, this is just for him." He stood again, and turned to Gleason. "Is that enough?"

Gleason chuckled. "Harry Potter, apologizing to a house-elf. That's a news story right there. But yes, that should be all right." He proceeded to ask Kreacher to tell the story of what happened, and Kreacher recounted it as he had for Harry. At one point, Gleason interrupted. "How exactly did they threaten Harry?"

"One of goblins said, 'we should get Potter here, give him...' Kreacher is sorry, Kreacher did not catch the word; it was unfamiliar word. Kreacher knows goblin language, this word was not usual word."

"You speak Gobbledygook?" asked Gleason in surprise.

Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher understands goblins language, not speaks. Other goblins was surprised, as if said something shocking. Another said, 'we can't do that,' others were not sure. But Kreacher is sure that this unknown word is something bad. Sound of voices. Kreacher is sure Gringotts not safe for Harry Potter. Kreacher took all of vault, returned. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley was surprised, but when Kreacher told the story, Master and friend understood. Said Kreacher did well." Kreacher puffed with pride.

Harry shrugged. "He told it as well as I could have. That's what happened. So, I was pretty surprised to read that this means I know I committed a crime, and so forth. I didn't go myself partly because I just didn't want to leave the house; I'm not so big on going out in public these days. I'm kind of recognizable. I did know that the goblins wouldn't exactly be thrilled to see me, but I had no idea that they would be like this. What is it with them, anyway? I mean, you cover goblins for the Prophet, right? It's like, 'yeah, you put out the fire and saved my family, but look, you got my suit all wet! You better pay for it!' What are they thinking?"

Gleason's face showed his sympathy for what Harry was saying, and his understanding that Harry was young and didn't know a lot. "First of all, Harry--may I call you Harry?" Harry gestured his assent. "I cover economic issues for the Prophet, not goblins per se. But naturally, I am quite familiar with them, so I'm not surprised. When I saw the images of your escapade today, my thought was, oh, my, there will be trouble. I knew they would be incensed, and I wonder to what extent Minister Shacklebolt understood what he would be stirring up. It was a rousing image for the human population, of course; I could not help but cheer as I watched. But in the end, it may have done more harm than good.

"Now, your question was regarding the goblins' character. A true and complete answer could require several hours, and I am unfortunately on deadline. What do you recall of goblins from your History of Magic classes?"

Somewhat abashed, Harry said, "Mostly that there was lots of conflict between humans and goblins, but more than that... to be honest, I had a hard time paying attention."

"It is still Professor Binns, is it?" Harry nodded. "Understandable; he was not that interesting when he was alive, when he taught me. Well, I'll give you the short version. Distrust between goblins and humans goes back almost a thousand years, and at some points it's been worse than others. Historically, they have ample reason to mistrust humans, but looking in terms of recent history, relations haven't been all that bad.

"Even so, goblins are known to have adopted a policy, or we could say a philosophy, of 'goblins first.' For them, any situation is looked at exclusively in terms of how it affects goblins. Now, every group or government does that, to various degrees; it's commonly known as looking out for one's own self-interest. To some extent, it's understood and accepted. But for goblins, it's taken to extremes. This is not true of every single goblin, but... if a goblin sees a human baby about to be killed at the same time as he can pick up a Knut in the road, and there's only time to do something about one, he'll pick up the Knut." Harry's face reflected his revulsion. "He might save the baby if he thought he could profit from it, perhaps get a reward, but he would view it strictly in those terms. Most people react to this in the way you just did, which is why goblins mostly keep to themselves. That's also why Gringotts is so popular; people trust goblins to keep their money safe--which is in the goblins' interest--with that same ferocity.

"It's not known exactly when this attitude became standard, but it's thought that it's partly the result of dealings with humans, dealings in which humans betrayed agreements any number of times, and acted in their own self-interest without shame or regard for how their actions hurt goblins. The goblins, who were far from blameless in this, I should add, finally decided that no quarter could be given humans, and they have acted in ways consistent with this. I could go on for quite a while, but this should be sufficient for you to understand their attitude towards what you did. You-Know-Who is gone, so they only think about their interests now. They act strictly within the confines of the law, and they're very literal about it."

"The law is the law," Harry recalled. Kreacher muttered something about goblins that Harry couldn't quite hear.

"Exactly. As for their anger, they've borne insults from humans for centuries, and they have a low tolerance for it. So, your actions seem to them to be a deliberate provocation, once you remove from consideration the reason you did it."

Harry was silent for a moment. This explained a lot, but the goblins' attitude was still reprehensible... he felt he was beginning to see the value of studying history; he just wished that Hogwarts had had a professor who could make it interesting, or at least, not coma-inducing. He was satisfied that he was blameless, that there was nothing that he should feel he needed to do to make the situation right; he would go home, lead his usual life, and let Kingsley deal with it. Out of curiosity, he asked, "If you were me, what would you do?"

Gleason raised his eyebrows. "That's an interesting question." He paused, thinking. "Most interesting. You know, I can't say that I'm sure. Strictly from the point of view of dealing with the goblins, the thing to do would be to apologize, and emphasize your great respect for them, their culture, and so forth. The problem with apologizing is that from any reasonable human point of view, what you did was not only not wrong, but truly heroic. Apologizing would make you look pathetic, giving in easily to goblin threats, and the fact that you felt forced to do so would offend humans greatly, turning them against goblins. And I'm not even certain that it would work. It could be argued that the 'insult' they suffered is a pretext to support their main demand, to be reimbursed, which you can do nothing about." It occurred to Harry that it wouldn't be impossible to pay the goblins with the Black family fortune, but he quickly dismissed the idea. No way in hell will I do that, he thought.

"So," continued Gleason, "all in all, I don't think there's much you personally can do. You would do well to say nothing inflammatory about goblins, but fundamentally, this is a dispute between the goblins and the Ministry, because in endorsing your actions, the Ministry has in a sense taken responsibility for them. Some might advise you to go into extensive detail about the circumstances, to more completely explain your actions. While I would personally be very interested in such information, however, it would not truly help."

"The goblins wouldn't care," finished Harry, "because it's only about what I did, not the reasons I did it. Even if I'd done it to save the world from immediate destruction, they'd be acting the same way."

"Precisely. The details would only sway the human community, but your standing is so high there that it wouldn't be necessary." After a pause, Gleason asked, "Harry... if you don't mind my asking, it's been a week, and you haven't made yourself available to the media. May I ask why?"

Reluctant even to answer such a question, Harry reminded himself that Gleason had been helpful, and seemed like a nice enough man. "This won't go into the paper?" he asked; Gleason shook his head. "It's partly what Kingsley said, about my privacy, but also, I haven't had the greatest experiences with the media." He assumed he didn't need to go into details, that Gleason would know what he was referring to.

Gleason nodded, somewhat sadly, Harry thought. "I understand; we in the media have discussed it, and we thought that to be the most likely reason. It's very understandable, though I would point out that your troubles stemmed from the actions of one reporter--in that case, Skeeter--and then, from the Ministry, not the Prophet itself. I think that if you talked to us, you would not find cause to regret it."

Harry almost brought up what happened to Hermione, then remembered that it wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to publicize further. He nodded. "I understand. Maybe I will, sometime; I just don't feel ready yet. But I do want to thank you for your advice. It was helpful."

Gleason nodded his acknowledgement. Before Harry could turn to leave, Gleason spoke again. "Harry, I know you may not want to say anything, but while you're standing here, I can't resist... if you would just give a quick answer, for publication..." Harry looked at Gleason expectantly, nonverbally conveying that while he made no promises of an answer, he would listen.

"It's been said that you went out to the forest, expecting to be killed, to save the wizarding community," said Gleason. Harry continued to give no reaction. "Through whatever luck, skill, or fortune, you survived, though he thought you dead. I think if I were in that situation, my legs would literally fail me. How did you walk out there?"

Harry's eyebrows went up; he had been expecting to be asked how he had survived, which he would have refused to answer. Not expecting this question, and not having thought about it, he considered it. He didn't want to explain that his death was necessary, or the Horcruxes, but he understood that that wasn't the crux of Gleason's question anyway. A full minute passed.

Finally, he answered. "I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know that it's even possible to answer the question." He paused again. "I think it's just something inside you. It's like trying to say why you like lemon and not strawberry, or why you're good at art but bad at math. I knew it had to be done, but I almost couldn't, and I wouldn't blame anyone who couldn't. I don't think I can give a better answer than that."

Obviously affected, Gleason said quietly, "I think that's a very good answer. Thank you very much, Harry." Harry nodded and left, Kreacher following. Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry realized something, and spoke to Kreacher. "Kreacher, I just realized, what I said to that reporter... I was lucky that I survived, but Regulus died doing the same thing I did. That's probably why I respect him so much. One day I will tell the story of what happened, and I'll make sure that everyone knows what Regulus did."

Tears started streaming down the elf's face. "Is that why Master Harry put up Master Regulus's portrait?" asked Kreacher between sobs.

Taken aback, and unwilling to admit the truth, Harry improvised. "I just thought it was a good reminder of what he did. I couldn't have done what I did, if not for that." Kreacher started to thank Harry, but started crying too hard to speak, and walked from the room.

Harry looked across the living room at the pile of mail, thought about returning to it, then lay back on the sofa. I think I need a break, he thought.

* * * * *

He was still on the sofa an hour later when Ron came through the fireplace. "Hi," he greeted Ron. The grim look on Ron's face reminded Harry of what had happened to Hermione. "How's she doing?"

"You heard, I see," said Ron. "Harry, I've never seen her this bad. It's just terrible. How did they find out?" Harry described his visit to Pinter's office; Ron shook his head. "Bastard. I'd have gone, but I wouldn't trust myself not to curse him. Anyway, I could only talk to her about it for a few minutes. Apparently she spent a half hour talking to her parents, but it didn't really do much good. She said they know why she did it, but they said that what she did violated their trust in her so much that they don't know what kind of relationship they can have with her. She was devastated, of course. Mum's going to try to talk to them, get them to understand the situation. I hope she can."

"She's still at the Ministry?"

Ron nodded. "Dad told her she could go home, but she said she wanted to stay. Her parents said they needed some time to think about things, or she'd still be with them, but since she can't, she'd rather be doing something. When I saw her, it seemed like she was trying not to cry most of the time. It's so unfair. We get honored like that, things are great, and then suddenly, bam! This hits her out of nowhere. And what's worse is, it wasn't like she had any choice. If she hadn't, her parents would probably be dead. Kind of like you and the goblins, actually. You, we, had no choice, but they want your head on a platter anyway. Makes me wonder what's coming for me."

"Nothing, I hope," said Harry. "At least one of us should be able to avoid unfair harassment. That reminds me, I talked to a guy from the Prophet today," He went on to describe his visit to Gleason's office.

"Stupid goblins," said Ron angrily. "I never liked them, but I didn't know why. At least, now I know why. I don't know how Bill works with them." An idea seemed to hit Ron. "Speaking of which, maybe we should visit Bill, talk to him about this. He might have some ideas."

Harry was less than enthusiastic; he wanted to just forget about the situation. "Do we have to?"

Ron was slightly taken aback. "No, we don't have to. Just a thought."

They sat in silence for a minute. "I guess I should get to the mail pile," he said resignedly.

"Tell you what, let me look at it. I'll probably find it more interesting than you will." Harry gestured him to go ahead, and Ron got up and sat at the table. There was silence for a few minutes. Finally Ron observed, "You seem to be quite a guy."

"So I've heard," Harry replied indifferently.

"You could really get a big head reading these. One woman hopes you'll marry her daughter. Well, she says 'someone like you,' but it's obvious she means you. They should auction you off, could raise quite a bit of money."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "They could pay off the money the goblins want."

"You could always pay it off," said Ron. "Of course, you'd be totally mental to do it."

"I was going to say," agreed Harry. "I don't think that's going to happen."

Opening the next letter, Ron's tone became one of astonishment. "They're offering you five thousand Galleons for an interview!"

"Yeah, that's the third one of those. Highest amount it's been, though."

"They only offered me one thousand," said Ron, his voice neutral, but with a slight emotional charge, as if he wanted Harry to take notice of what he said.

"I didn't know they did that," said Harry. "Are you going to do it?"

"I hadn't planned to," said Ron. "How would you feel about it?"

Harry knew he would rather Ron didn't, but didn't want to say it so directly, given Ron's attitude about Harry's money. "Well, I'd pay you a thousand not to do it," he said, intending it to sound like a joke. "But it's up to you, you should do what you want."

"Your deal sounds good, I could make a lot of money that way. But no, the money from the Merlin award is pretty good, especially with having no expenses. I'll definitely be buying some stuff, the first one of those comes."

"Just don't put it in Gringotts," advised Harry.

Ron chuckled darkly. "You may be the famous one, but I suspect they wouldn't mind getting their claws on me, either."

"I'm sure that's true," Harry agreed, and went silent. He was glad that Ron didn't plan on relating his experiences; he couldn't stop Ron, and wouldn't try, but it would still feel like an invasion of his privacy if Ron or Hermione went into great detail publicly about it, and he was sure that for a thousand Galleons, they would want every single detail. He also wondered how eager Ron would be to relate the part of the story where he ran out on them. He suddenly had another thought. "Have you gotten any fan mail?"

"A little," said Ron distractedly as he read. "Not nearly as much as you, though, and not so... what's the word, over the top, I guess. Mine is mostly, hey, nice job helping Harry out there. Not that I need it, but it's nice, I guess."

After another few minutes, Ron said, "Hey, this one is from Luna!"

Harry perked up. "Go on, read it to me."

Ron read. "Dear Harry, thank you very much for mentioning my name at the ceremony. Ginny was pretending to be unhappy that you said my name before hers." Harry and Ron exchanged a smile. "Michael Corner was unhappy that our names were mentioned but his wasn't, and I don't think he was pretending." Now Harry and Ron laughed out loud.

"Never did like Corner that much," said Harry.

Ron agreed. "Yeah, I heard he did a lot there, but me neither."

Ron went on reading. "We miss you here. Some people are pretty disappointed that you didn't come back, but I think I understand. Sometimes your insides just tell you something, and you have to do it. Maybe you don't even know why. But just remember that we respect you and we love you (well, maybe not Michael, but most of us), and we'll be there for you if you ever need us. Your friend, Luna." Ron raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. She seems to understand you pretty well."

"Maybe better than I understand myself," agreed Harry. "But yes, that was very... nice." He didn't want to say it out loud, but he felt very emotionally affected by the letter. He had always appreciated Luna's straightforwardness, but especially now.

A half hour later, Ron finished. "There, that wasn't so bad," he teased Harry.

"It wasn't so bad because you did it," responded Harry. "Okay, I've decided that you were right. We'll go see Bill, see what he has to say."

Ron nodded. "What made you decide that? Or, what made you not want to before?"

"I'm just not sure it's going to do any good, from what that Gleason guy said. But maybe Bill will know something interesting." Ron suggested a quick stop at the Burrow, and Harry agreed.

They had barely come out of the fireplace when Molly corralled Ron, asking him a few more questions about Hermione's situation, then telling him that a lot of mail was waiting in his room, and he should go answer it. His back to his mother, Ron gave Harry a quick 'what can you do?' look, and went upstairs.

"Harry, dear," said Molly, "would you come have a word with me in the kitchen?" Harry nodded, and went in; she motioned him to a seat at the table.

"How are you doing, Harry?" she asked.

"Okay," he said.

"Harry, I wanted to talk to you about a few things. First of all, Ron," she said, lowering her voice. "He got an offer today for a thousand Galleons to give an interview to Witch Weekly."

"I know, he told me."

"Did you tell him to do it?" she asked expectantly.

He shrugged. "I told him it was up to him."

She looked at him disapprovingly. "He wants to do it, Harry. He didn't say it directly, but a mother can tell. The only reason he doesn't is because he knows you don't want him to. If you would tell him he should do it, he would."

Harry's confusion appeared on his face. "But I don't think he should do it."

"Sometimes, Harry, it's not a bad thing to tell a white lie. Not that I advocate lying in general," she hastened to add, "but there can be exceptions. He wants to do it, and it won't hurt you if he does. What's the harm?"

"No harm, Mrs. Weasley, but I just don't want to lie to Ron." Certainly not about this, Harry added to himself.

"Well, that's very admirable, Harry, but you should really think about it. Ron hasn't had much money all his life, and this would be very nice for him. Now," she continued before he had a chance to respond, "I wanted to say that you should really be going over to Bill and Fleur's every now and then. I know it's only been a week, but both good and bad habits can form quickly. It'll be a good thing to get in the habit of doing. Remus wanted you to be an important person in that baby's life."

She paused just long enough for him to jump in, which he had been trying to do while not interrupting. "Ron and I were just on our way over there."

She brightened a little. "Well, that's good, dear. Good for you." For some reason, the last comment annoyed him greatly; he felt he was being condescended to. He was sorely tempted to say, 'Is there anything else you think I should be doing?' but managed to hold back.

"Next, there's your Muggle family. The situation with Hermione made me remember that your Muggle relatives had to go into hiding, and they may not know that it's safe to come out. Now, I know they're not the nicest people in the world--"

"That's a huge understatement," he couldn't stop himself from interrupting.

"But they protected you for those years," Molly went on, with an admonishing glance for the interruption. "Not that you owe them so much, but you do at least owe them for that. You really should check on them.

"Now, there's just one other thing," she went on; he came very close to rolling his eyes. "I'm leaving soon to go talk to Hermione's parents. I assume you know about that situation from Ron. I thought it might be a good idea if, not right now but maybe later, you were to talk to them. Try to explain to them your relationship with Hermione, why it was so important for her to come with you."

"Well, obviously, I would do anything I could to help Hermione. The next time I get a chance to talk to her, I'll offer to do that, tell her that I'll do anything she wants me to do." Not anything you want me to do, he added in his mind. Anything she wants me to do.

Seemingly not totally satisfied but having nothing more to say, she excused herself and went through the fireplace. Harry walked upstairs and found Ron in his room. He sat down and in frustration related the conversation to Ron, who seemed baffled at Harry's anger. "That's just Mum, Harry. What are you gonna do?"

"I really don't feel like being told what to do right now! Not by her, not by anybody."

"So, do what the rest of us do," said Ron reasonably. "Nod real earnestly, as if of course you were going to do what she said anyway, don't say anything, and just ignore what she said if you don't like it. No big deal." He gave Harry a small grin. "Ah, I think I get it. You don't have practice at this. You didn't have to worry with your aunt, because you knew she didn't like you anyway. You don't want Mum not to like you, but you don't want her doing that. Don't worry, Harry. You'll get used to it. You know we consider you like a part of the family; well, you're now finding out that's not always a good thing."

Harry was calming down, finding that what Ron had said helped. "I see what you mean... I'm just really not in the mood for it. You'd think she'd know that."

Ron shook his head. "Blind spot. And Harry, I do want to say, she was wrong about that. Okay, I'd love a thousand Galleons. And I know you'd give it to me, so let's not even have that discussion. I think she just wants me to have the choice, without any outside influence. But... Hermione and I did a lot to help you, but nobody would be interested in the story if not for all the stuff you did. Getting money from it would be like getting paid for something you did, and it wouldn't seem right. I'd rather just take the money from you than do that."

Harry was touched. "Thanks, Ron, I appreciate that."

With a straight face, Ron said, "No problem. So, when should I come over to get the money?"

Harry laughed. "Any time is fine."

"Well, maybe later. Let's go over to Bill's."

* * * * *

A few minutes later, Ron came out of Bill and Fleur's fireplace, followed by Harry. "Hi, Fleur," said Harry. "Where's Teddy?"

Fleur looked grim. "With his grandmother. We thought it was not the best atmosphere for him to be here tonight."

Bill walked into the living room, greeted Harry and Ron, gesturing them onto the sofa. "Why is that?" asked Harry.

Looking only a little less unhappy than his wife, Bill answered. "I quit my job today." Responding to Harry and Ron's shocked expressions, he elaborated. "Well, quit under pressure, you could say. It wasn't a great surprise; I had known this might happen, and as the situation escalated, it became more and more likely. What made me quit was that today, they told me that I would be required to submit to questioning under Veritaserum if I wanted to keep my job."

Harry's mouth hung open. "Because of what we did?"

"Harry, you two and Hermione are in no way responsible for this," said Bill firmly. "What you did saved our society. It was just bad luck for me that it happened to involve Gringotts. They were already suspicious of me because I'm Ron's brother, but then they heard Griphook's story. He's in trouble with them, I hear; I think they gave him Veritaserum too, or the goblin version of it. They know he 'conspired' with you in my home, and they would've asked me what involvement I had in it. Obviously there was none, but my future there was clearly to be measured in days, not years, so I thought, why let them drain me of any information they want before they let me go. And I object to the Veritaserum on principle."

Harry shook his head. "Bill, I'm so sorry..." Noting Bill's look, he added, "I know, I know, it's not our fault. But still... what are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, but I'm not without skills. I'm sure there's something. Fleur was thinking that we might go to France, and I'd definitely consider that, though we wouldn't be eager to move away from Teddy. But first I want to take a little time to just relax. We have money saved, it's not a problem. But let me ask you, why did you come? To see Teddy?"

"Partly," Harry lied, and went on to tell the story of his visit with Gleason. "I've read his stuff," said Bill when Harry finished. "He's pretty good, and I agree with most of what he said. The thing with the baby and the Knut, I think, is not as bad as he said. Maybe fifty-fifty. Still horrible, of course, I'm just used to it."

"I am not," put in Fleur. "The more I heard about them, the less I liked them. I think this may be, how do you say, a hidden blessing."

"A blessing in disguise," Bill corrected her absently. "And you may be right. It's just a shock when it happens, but we'll see. Of course, the other side of the coin, when looking for work, being Ron Weasley's brother may not be at all a bad thing right now," he added, with a wry grin at Ron. Harry felt that Bill was only partly kidding.

"Glad I could help," grinned Ron. "Just tell me who to call."

"So, you think there's nothing I should be doing," said Harry.

"No, I think Gleason was right on that. Just lie low, stay out of it."

"Well, that's lucky, as it seems to be my specialty these days," said Harry dryly.

They talked for a while about the goblin situation, then the topic turned to Teddy. Bill and Fleur told Harry, to his surprise, that he was not expected to ever take legal custody of Teddy, especially not while Andromeda was alive, and wanted to be the primary caregiver. "'Godfather' can have various meanings," explained Bill. "It can mean 'expected to take full custody,' but only if it's explicitly stated in a will. More commonly, it's intended to establish a relationship between the parents' friend and the child, assigning that adult a special importance in the life of a child. But if close relatives of the parents are alive, they normally take custody." Relief washed over Harry as Bill looked at him, bemused. "Yes, I did notice before that you seemed a little freaked out over the whole thing."

Mildly annoyed at being made fun of, Harry's response was a little defensive. "I'd think most people my age would be. I mean, Ron, how would you feel if someone said, here, you're responsible for this baby now?"

"I'd be like, uh, you first, mate." Harry looked at Bill as if to say, there, you see?

Bill chuckled. "Relax, Harry, I wasn't trying to give you a hard time. It was just a little funny, but I didn't mean you were any different from anyone else."

"Hermione, on the other hand, would go to the library and borrow ten books on babies and being a parent," Ron joked. The topic moved to Hermione and her situation; as they talked, Harry reflected that in addition to those who had died, both Hermione's and Bill's lives had taken drastic turns for the worse as a result of what they had done. He hoped the cost would not rise any higher.

* * * * *

The next morning went as most of his mornings had, beginning with a humorous visit from Fred. Fred didn't startle him in any way, but propped on a chair near the bed was a large sign reading, "This Is Fred. I Do Not Want To Startle You. May I Appear?" Fred appeared soon thereafter, explaining that he had caused the sign to appear by 'special supernatural powers.' "Would those powers," asked Harry, "include the ability to talk to George and ask him to do this while I was asleep?" Fred's wounded innocence confirmed Harry's suspicions. He wondered how long Fred would keep appearing in the morning.

Breakfast was a more elaborate affair than usual, confirming that Kreacher had been very touched by Harry's putting up Regulus's portrait. Harry was annoyed at himself for not having predicted Kreacher's reaction, and realized to his dismay that he now could not take it down without greatly upsetting Kreacher.

The Prophet's main headline was about the ceremony, and to Harry's surprise, there were individual profiles of Ron and Hermione, giving more information about their background and relationship to him. The secondary article, also on page one, was the one about the goblins that he'd read the draft of the day before, now with information he and Kreacher had provided. There was also a box with the text, 'My Meeting With Harry Potter: Editorial on Page 20." Reflexively, he turned to it; it was written by David Gleason.

This is the first time I have ever written an editorial, and it will probably be the last; I am primarily a news reporter. But a news reporter must be completely objective, and I can in no way be objective in writing about the young man I met for the first time yesterday.

He has been hailed as a hero, deservedly so, and been honored by society and individuals in almost every way imaginable. I would not be surprised to see statues go up soon. So, what struck me the most about him was his utter lack of pretension. Refusing to take himself too seriously, he was polite not only to me, but also to his house-elf! Readers may think it was a performance for my benefit, but a veteran reporter knows when a 17-year-old is putting on a show. Mr. Potter most definitely was not; this is who he is.

Growing more embarrassed, Harry read Gleason's account of their meeting, including his concern about the goblin situation, and a more detailed account of Kreacher's narrative than had appeared in the main article. The editorial concluded with the last question he had asked Harry.

In that moment, I felt I truly saw his character; his eyes took on that unmistakable look of one thoughtfully trying to answer a difficult question. He felt he came up empty, but thinking about it later, I feel it was the only answer he could give. One either has this bravery within himself, or he does not. But what I saw that was most striking was an ineffable quality in those vivid green eyes: that he had looked Death in the face, and not flinched. It was both inspiring and haunting, to know that so much was asked of, and given by, one so young. I could not help but feel that this has affected him in ways even he does not realize.

I can't help but feel, thought Harry sardonically, that he saw a lot more in my eyes than there was to see. At least it's better than when the press was spreading lies about me, but it still seems way too much.

He walked into the living room. The mail pile was stacked even higher than usual; must be because of the ceremony yesterday, he thought. Strange to think that was only yesterday, so much has happened since then. A rather thick envelope caught his eye; he picked it up, and saw that it was from Narcissa Malfoy. Great, he thought. Just wonderful.

With a sigh, he opened it. To his surprise, there was a thick velvet case, from which he pulled out a small mirror. He immediately realized what it was for. Figuring he'd just get it over with, he spoke into the mirror. "I'm here. I assume this means you want to talk."

There was no immediate answer, but he realized that there probably wasn't someone looking at the mirror all the time. He put it down on the desk and picked up a letter. One fan letter and one business opportunity later, he heard a female voice. "I am here, Potter."

He picked it up and saw her face, which looked older than he remembered. Maybe it was the few minor scars he could make out, or maybe the stress of the past few years. Nothing she didn't ask for, he reminded himself. "I guess this means you want my help."

"I want to know why you have hidden from everyone my role in all of this," she said coldly. "This shows bad faith on your part. Without me, it would not have been possible."

"I don't need to explain myself to you," he responded, summoning to his attitude his dislike of the whole Malfoy family. "And I haven't 'hidden' your role, I just haven't talked about the whole thing at all. I just don't want to."

"You talked to that lickspittle Gleason, who now fawns on you like a house-elf might to a 'polite' master who does not know the proper relationship between a master and a house-elf." Her tone was impressively haughty, but Harry realized that she must have been very angry at Harry seeming to enhance his status as a hero at her expense, in her eyes. She probably thinks I sought it out, he thought, like Draco always accused me of.

"I answered one and only one question, and again, I'm not going to explain or defend myself to you. I just don't want to talk about what happened. I can't stop you from telling anyone you want, so go ahead."

She glared at him disdainfully. "I would not be believed, as you well know."

"If you tell the media, or the Ministry, the accurate facts of what happened, I'll confirm it," he conceded. "If you lie or exaggerate, I'll contradict you. And if you omit your motivation from your story, I'll make it clear when they ask me."

"I saved your life! My motivation is irrelevant!"

"Not to me!" Harry responded with equal force. "It makes a lot of difference to me. Deal with it."

She seemed to be trying to hold her temper in check. "I expect you to--"

He cut her off. "I don't like the word 'expect.' How about, 'request.' 'Want' is also okay."

He knew he was infuriating her, but he didn't care; he would not let himself be pushed around. "I want you to tell your friend Shacklebolt, and the Wizengamot if necessary, that my husband and my son must not be prosecuted."

He shook his head. "I'm willing to consider intervening for you and Draco--"

Outraged, she interrupted him. "I did not ask for myself! I have done nothing that the Wizengamot would prosecute!"

"I'd think that assisting Voldemort would be enough, not to mention keeping captives illegally in your dungeon--"

"It was not illegal! It was authorized by the government at that time!"

In his disdain, Harry gave an exaggerated shrug. "If you want to argue that, you can, but I wouldn't recommend it. I think Kingsley and the Wizengamot don't consider the last government legitimate, since it was controlled by Voldemort. But that's up to you."

Again, he was conscious of her attempts to calm down. "We did not choose to keep them there. The Dark Lord ordered it, and we had no choice but to obey. We were being coerced at that time, and had been for a long time."

Harry nodded. "I don't know that for a fact, but the possibility that it's true is the only reason I'm talking to you now. Anyway, if you're not asking my help for yourself, that's fine. As I said, for Draco, I'm willing to consider it. But for your husband, it's out of the question. I won't even discuss it. He's done so much--"

"How dare you!" she raged, pent-up anger spilling out. "You have no idea, you filthy half-blood, what a wizard's debt is! You lying, weaselly, arrogant snake, with your blood traitor and Mudblood friends, it's people like you who--"

As soon as she said the word 'Mudblood,' that tore it for Harry; he immediately felt the emotional impact of what had happened to Hermione, the price she'd paid for taking extreme measures to save her parents. He quickly shoved the mirror back into its case; Narcissa's rant ceased. He picked up his quill, got a piece of paper, and wrote.

"Narcissa: You have a peculiar way of dealing with people whose help you're asking for. I'll talk to you, but I won't listen to insults or tantrums. I'll check the mirror at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. If you do the same thing again, I'll put it away, and never look at it again. I'd also recommend that you stay away from the word 'Mudblood.'

"I won't consider helping your husband because I have a personal issue with him. He is directly responsible for the near-death, and great emotional trauma, of a close friend of mine. It involves Tom Riddle's diary. Your husband appeared at Voldemort's side the night he returned. I saw him pledge loyalty to Voldemort with my own eyes, and he stood there and watched while I was tortured and almost killed. Hermione was tortured at your home, which would not have happened if your husband had made different choices. I know that you and Draco may have been drawn into the situation against your will. But not him.

And yes, I know what a wizard's debt is. It saved my life once. But as far as I'm concerned, it applies only to you, and your motivation matters. I'll consider helping Draco, but there will be conditions, questions I'll need answered. Politely. You know, as I might speak to a house-elf."

Relishing the sarcasm of his last sentence, he addressed the letter and placed it where he usually put outgoing mail. He spent an hour going through it, finding the rest much less unpleasant than the first.

* * * * *

He did nothing special for the rest of the morning. After lunch, it occurred to him that much as he'd prefer not to admit it, Molly did have a point when she'd said that he needed to check on the Dursleys. He wrote Hestia Jones a quick owl, asking her to get in contact with him sometime soon.

Soon after he sent the owl, the fireplace lit up, and Hermione walked through. It was the first time he had seen her since the ceremony, and since her parents had found out what she'd done. He stood, looking at her with concern. "Hi there. How are you doing?"

She seemed to be trying to look happier than she felt, but failing. "Not very well, as you might guess."

"I'm so sorry--"

"It's not your fault, Harry," she replied, in a tone that suggested she would start becoming angry at any further apologies. "It was my decision, and I'd do the same thing again. That's the worst part of this. I know that what I did to them was terrible, but what else could I do? I apologized to them over and over, but they said, we want to know that you would do it differently if you had it to do over again. I just couldn't say that. My father said, then we have nothing to say to each other." She looked on the verge of tears; he wondered how much she had cried since she'd found out. "They'd want me to say that I'd not do what I did, that I'd keep my head down and not fight Voldemort."

He started to apologize again, but caught himself. "If they'd want you to say that, they must not know you very well."

She winced. "My mother said that, but her meaning was different. Anyway, I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't come here to cry on your shoulder about this. Well, partly maybe. I wanted to see how you were doing, and tell you about this morning. The Wizengamot, at least the part that hasn't been arrested, talked to me an hour ago; they're talking to Ron now."

"What for?"

"They want our feedback on certain people. They're trying to figure out who was helping Voldemort, they're talking to most Order members, and anyone known to have resisted Voldemort. They're interested in talking to you, but I told them that there was nothing you knew that Ron and I didn't know; I tried to discourage them from talking to you. I think it may have worked."

He felt bad that she was trying to help him when she was in a very bad situation herself. "Thanks."

She shrugged. "We know how you feel, and really, they don't need to talk to you. You might be interested to know, they asked about Malfoy."

"Narcissa too?"

"No, just Lucius and Draco. About Draco, I told them about that thing he did last year with the cabinets, helping Death Eaters get into Hogwarts. It didn't directly cause any deaths, but it easily could have. And of course I mentioned the two attempts against Professor Dumbledore, but I think they knew about that. They asked if I knew of any Hogwarts students who helped Voldemort. At first I couldn't think of any except for Malfoy and Goyle, but then I mentioned that thing where Parkinson said that they should grab you."

Harry grinned, causing Hermione to give a small grin of her own. "They won't arrest her for that, though."

"No, but they might at least interview her. She's always been so horrible to us, all those years, so I don't mind if she sweats a little about this. I'm not above a little payback. Also, since she was Malfoy's girlfriend, they might think she knows something."

"But they don't know she's Malfoy's girlfriend."

She affected a casual air. "I may have mentioned it."

Harry grinned again. "As well you should. By the way, there was another message from his mother this morning." He told her the story; she shook her head in disgust. "She probably thinks you're arrogant because you insist she treats you like an equal, without insulting anyone. They think calling people Mudbloods and being superior is their birthright. So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," he said. "I'm curious, how would you feel if I helped Malfoy? Draco, I mean?"

"I'm not sure. I've read about wizard's debts, but it's not clear how transferable to other people they are. If you did it, I could understand why, but I'd hate for you to do it, and then have him cause someone's death in the future. But we can't get inside his mind. I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to go with your gut on this one."

They talked for a while longer, after which she left to go back to the Ministry to help Arthur. He found that something she'd said about the Malfoy situation had given him an idea. He went to the desk in the living room, took out a piece of paper, and composed a letter to Horace Slughorn.

* * * * *

In the late afternoon, he was writing a reply to Luna's letter from the day before when the fireplace lit up again. Thinking it was Ron this time, he was surprised to see Hestia Jones walk through. He recalled that as she was an Order member, she would have access to the house. He walked over to greet her; she gave him a friendly hug. "It's good to see you, Harry. I got your owl, of course. What's up?"

"Well, I thought I should go talk to the Dursleys. Now that this is over, they can go back to their usual lives, but they may not know. Do you think Dedalus would have told them by now?"

She glanced down, troubled. "I'm sorry, Harry... I thought you knew. He died a few months ago. Well, not really died, but... they caught him, and..." She sighed heavily. "Dementors."

Harry cringed, and shook his head in sorrow. After a moment's silence, he asked, "What happens to their bodies, anyway? Their soul is gone, how can they live? Do they die?"

"The bodies can live indefinitely," she explained. "They just need to be given food and water, that sort of thing. It's up to the families whether to keep them alive or not; most do. Many are kept at St. Mungo's; they have a whole ward for them, after the recent dementor attacks. Using magic, it doesn't take much effort to keep them alive, even though it seems like there's no point. But letting them die would involve starvation or dehydration, and euthanasia... well, it's still killing, even if it is an empty shell." Harry wondered about the disposition of Dennis's body.

"Anyway... you asked about the Dursleys. I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't know. Only Dedalus knew that. You know, in that kind of situation, there has to be compartmentalization of information. If there's some way to find them, I don't know what it is."

He nodded. "Okay, I understand. I know the Muggle world, so maybe there's some way I can find them." After a pause, he added, "I guess you're pretty busy, rounding up the people who helped the Death Eaters."

She grunted. "I wish we could round up all of them."

The way she had said the word 'all' suggested that there was some other problem than not being able to find them. "Why can't you?"

Her tone became very serious. "Harry, I've heard that you want to be an Auror. Is that true?"

He hesitated. "Well, I'm not sure right now what I'm going to end up doing. But yes, it's always been something I've been interested in doing."

"Well, we'd love to have you, of course. After what you've done, it's hard to imagine you not making it, even without a single N.E.W.T. But you have to understand that as with most aspects of society, there's division within the Auror ranks. A few fought alongside Kingsley, Tonks, and me, and some resisted as much as they could, quietly. But many just followed the Ministry's orders without question, even though they were wrong, and some went even further than that, exploiting the situation to advance their own power or interests in some way, or indulging in persecution of Muggle-borns in a way similar to Umbridge."

"I thought Kingsley was going to get rid of those kind of people."

"He wants to, but... you must not repeat this to anyone, anything I say here. Except Kingsley, he can know I told you." Harry nodded. "The problem is, you can't fire Aurors. They can only be gotten rid of for committing crimes, or disobeying the Ministry. The idea behind that rule is a good one; if Aurors could be fired easily, they could become politicized. But now, it's causing real problems. We really need to get rid of those people, but as things stand now, we can't. There are a number of Aurors who Kingsley knows he can't trust, and they know he knows. He doesn't ask them to do anything sensitive, but especially right now, we need every Auror, and we need them on the same page. We need to be united, but we're not. So that's a serious problem. Especially since though we need to be rounding people up, for the last few days, I've been overseas, part of Kingsley's effort to find ways to deal with dementors. Because he needed us for that, he had to assign suspect Aurors to track down those who helped the Ministry, when some of them did that very thing... you see the problem."

He nodded; it sounded bad. "I thought Aurors had to pass character tests."

"We do, but people change, and circumstances change people. Some people became corrupted who probably never would have if Voldemort hadn't come to power. Also, some of us think the tests need to be changed, but for reasons too complicated to get into, they can't right now. The bottom line is that the Aurors are in a kind of crisis, and Kingsley has to deal with that on top of everything else."

It just gets worse, thought Harry. "That made me wonder, why did it have to be Aurors who went? Why not just Ministry workers?"

"He could have had people at the Foreign Ministry do it," she acknowledged, "but we need help quickly. Bureaucrats would sit on their hands, have endless discussions, and so forth. We met with other countries' Aurors, trying to keep the governments out of it. Kingsley knew that was our only chance to get results quickly."

"How did it go?"

"A few of us had some success overseas. Nothing to solve the problem completely, but it will help a lot. There may be a way to sense dementors within a certain radius, a little bit like a Sneakoscope. And we think we have enough reinforcing spells now to keep them out of Diagon Alley, which will be a big sign of progress. But we still haven't found a permanent solution."

"Well, it's better than nothing," he reluctantly agreed.

"It is indeed. Well, I should be getting back, but I need to talk to Kingsley first. Harry... he, Kingsley, told me that you had a permanent Portkey to his office. Do you mind if I use it? It would save me some time."

"Sure. It's..." With a little embarrassment, he described its location. With a slightly confused expression--he gathered that she didn't know the Portkey's shape--she thanked him and walked upstairs.

* * * * *

In a minute, she was standing in Kingsley's office. Kingsley was sitting at his desk, three older wizards in formal robes sat in ornate chairs facing his desk. They were slightly startled to see Kingsley suddenly talk to someone behind them.

"Ah, Hestia," he said. "Could I have a word? Excuse me, gentlemen, this won't take more than a minute." They nodded mutely, and Hestia followed him into a small room adjoining the office; it had two chairs and a sofa. She imagined that it was for the Minister to take a nap if he felt the need, but was sure that it had been used for other purposes by many a Minister. They sat on the sofa.

"Well?" he asked simply.

She nodded. "As we discussed."

"How's he doing?"

Sadly, she shrugged. "Maybe not much better than when you talked to him. He's fairly engaged--he asked about the dementor situation--but I don't think he's nearly ready to get involved. Did you talk to Ron and Hermione?"

"They didn't want to tell me," he nodded. "I had to shamelessly take advantage of my rank, and they made me swear not to tell anyone, so I'll honor that and not tell you. But Gleason was right; he walked into the forest, not expecting to return."

He could see the distress on her face. "We can't do this to him, Kingsley. He's been through too much."

"I know," said Kingsley heavily. "But... he's the only one who has a chance, Hestia. You know that, too."

"He can't possibly know what you'll be asking of him," she said quietly. "If he's successful... he'll never forgive us."

His face reflected his uncertainty. "If he's the person we think he is, I believe he will." He paused. "Eventually. The problem is, so much is at stake. The dementors, the Ministry, the Aurors, and the damn goblins..."

"Did you get word?"

He nodded. "It's confirmed. Three of our people have been there since Gringotts opened, posing as normal customers. Maybe five people have gotten into their vaults all day."

"Like we needed that," she muttered. "Are you going to go on the offensive, in the Prophet?"

"I've got little choice," he said. "We don't have a few million spare Galleons to give them, not that I would anyway. No, Gleason's coming in a half hour, and I'm going to let them have it with both barrels. If they play chicken with me, they're going to regret it."

She frowned in puzzlement. "Did you just start speaking a foreign language?"

He chuckled. "Sorry, I picked up some Muggle idioms working in the Prime Minister's office. I meant, I'm not going to back down."

"Oh. Well, I knew that."

"Is that all?"

She thought for a few seconds. "It has to be a last resort."

He nodded gravely. "I understand. By the time it happens, it may well be just that."

They stood; she reached the door before him. One hand on the knob, she turned to face him. "Oh, and for Merlin's sake, get him a new Portkey, will you? He's got that one under a cloth, behind a picture."

He nodded ruefully. "It was supposed to be humorous. I guess he isn't feeling too humorous these days."

"Would you?"

He shook his head. "I guess not."

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 5, Dudley's Letter: Finally making contact with the Dursleys, Harry gets shocking news; a discussion at the Weasleys' dinner table gives Harry an idea about how to counter the goblins' increasingly aggressive tactics.

From Chapter 5:

He could see on their faces their concern that Harry had learned a terrible secret. He gave full vent to his disgust and frustration. "I swear to God, you two have to be the worst parents in history. Dudley would have been better off if you'd beaten the crap out of him every day."