Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link

Chapter 9

The Chocolate Frog Card

The rest of the afternoon went by fairly slowly, but Harry didn't feel that was a bad thing. A relaxed, unhurried pace of life appealed to him now; he sometimes felt as though Grimmauld Place was a refuge from the outside world, which was constantly trying to drag him into its clutches. Kingsley had said that Harry deserved to take a year off, but Harry somehow suspected that it wouldn't be allowed to happen.

He considered whether he was ready yet to think about the future. Relationship? Definitely not. Job? No, not yet. Place to live? Maybe. Godric's Hollow would be nice; I could use some of my money to build a totally new place on the same land. Strange, how I know I don't want to live here for the rest of my life, but for now I don't want to leave it. It's like... this is a transitional place, someplace to hide until I'm ready to face the world again. Who knows when that'll be, but I suppose I'll know it when it happens.

Dinner was scheduled for 6:30, and Ron and Hermione came through the fireplace at a few minutes before six. Harry and Ron sat on the living room sofa, while Hermione chose a chair.

"So, we heard that you were sworn in today," said Hermione.

"Yep. Apparently, you can call me 'Jurist Potter' now."

"I don't know," said Ron. "I sort of prefer, 'hey, you.'"

Harry chuckled. "Okay, but only because you've known me for so long. So, is anybody gossiping about what I said in there?"

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, and shook their heads. "People are surprised it hasn't leaked," said Ron. "Apparently, the Wizengamot usually leaks pretty easily. But I assume nothing unexpected happened."

"No, it didn't. I was just wondering. So, Hermione, are you helping Bill now?"

She nodded. "I was almost finished helping Arthur set up the Wizarding Unity Department anyway. I'll still go back from time to time, to help with minor adjustments, and to answer questions. But a bank is an interesting challenge, with some things pretty different than what I was doing with Arthur."

"For one thing, she gets paid now," noted Ron, trying not to smile.

"That wasn't what I meant," she said reprovingly; now, Ron did smile. "But I admit, I'm happy to get paid. No, I meant that the organization is different. Bill had some books on banking that I borrowed last night, so I understand the basic idea. Bill has to do a lot of this himself, and he knows that, but I can help. I think he's only gotten four or five hours sleep a night since it started. He thought he'd have more time to set it up and let the business grow slowly, but because of the goblins' actions, he's under heavy pressure to serve a lot of people, as quickly as possible. But he's also said that early on in a business's life is when mistakes are more likely to be made, things that could be costly in the future. So he's got to do a good job, and do it quickly. I don't envy him."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling guilty that he'd roped Bill into doing what he was doing, but knowing better than to say anything to Hermione about it.

"As for me, I just did my usual thing," said Ron. "I spent some time today talking to Percy, and it was actually very useful. I'm trying to use Ministry resources to get things done for the Muggle-borns, but I don't know the Ministry all that well. Percy really knows the ins and outs of the place, the right people to go to, the way to ask for something, that sort of thing. He suggested that I use my name a lot, like, 'I'm Ron Weasley, and I was wondering if you could help with...' that sort of thing." Harry smiled to himself, knowing that casual as Ron tried to sound, that his name opened doors had to be a big boost to his ego. "He said you have to persuade, and people should think that it's in their interest to help you. Apparently, the Ministry is a big vat of influence trading, or maybe I should say, favor-trading. I was a little surprised I hadn't known that before, since Dad works there, but that's the kind of thing he tried to stay away from. He hardly ever asked for favors, and being in the Muggle Artifact Office, wasn't in a good position to give many. And that was fine with him. But now, he needs resources, so he needed Percy to give him some pointers also." Ron shook his head in wonder. "It's a strange business."

"I'd definitely want no part of it," agreed Harry.

Ron chuckled. "Percy also said that if I need something really badly and was having trouble getting it, saying that it was something Harry Potter wanted to see happen would probably do it." Harry rolled his eyes as Ron grinned. "Yeah, I know. I said it partly to get that reaction. I know it's out of the question, of course, and I told Percy that. I figure if I want something that badly, I'll just ask you for the money for it instead." Harry nodded firmly.

"Harry," said Hermione hesitantly, "how are you doing with the... the thing where you don't want to do anything, or think about the future?"

"Yeah, I'm not even sure what to call it," agreed Harry. "But, no change, I suppose. I mean, I did stop by the bank offices yesterday when I didn't have to, so you could say that was something. But I don't know, I feel like I'm waiting for the heat to die down or something, so everyone stops coming up to me and talking to me every time I go out."

"That may take twenty or thirty years," Ron pointed out, deadpan.

"I have money, I can wait," Harry joked back.

"Actually, Harry," said Hermione in her you-should-listen-to-me tone, "Not going out may make things worse. If you became a recluse, people would wonder what happened to you, there'd be more speculation, and it would be even more when you finally did come out into public life."

"Thanks, Hermione."

She looked at him unhappily. At Ron's prompting, Harry told them what had happened at the Wizengamot, and they speculated about whether Malfoy himself would be called to testify, or whether Harry's recommendation would be accepted on its face.

"Oh, I don't want to forget to tell you," Harry said to Hermione, "Neville told me in his last letter that Pansy Parkinson was seen going to McGonagall's office the other day, and then she was absent from a few classes. She wouldn't say what she'd been doing, but I think we can guess that she probably took a Portkey out of the school, maybe to see the Wizengamot."

"Good," said Hermione smugly.

"Well, Neville and the others don't know. When I write Neville back, do you mind if I say what we think it was?"

She shook her head. "Go ahead. I don't care if she knows, or the whole school knows. She's vile, and I doubt she's had some sort of conversion like Draco has."

Harry and Ron exchanged surprised glances, as Hermione was to be told only that Veritaserum was used, not the content of what was discussed. Harry asked Ron silently whether he had said anything; Ron shook his head.

Noticing their byplay, she said with mild impatience, "Oh, come on, you two, it couldn't be more obvious. I suspected it when he wouldn't identify you, Harry, when we were captured. Now I know that might have been for other reasons, like he was afraid of being wrong, or he just didn't want Voldemort coming. But I know you. Maybe he wasn't trying, but he almost killed Ron. There's no way you'd have done that unless you were sure he regretted what he'd done and wasn't going to do it again. I'd guess that being the target of Voldemort's wrath put the fear of God into him, and he's a different person now. Or something like that." She gave them a satisfied look.

"Well," said Harry, impressed, "if Draco ever asks me about it, I want to be able to say truthfully that I didn't break my promise, so I'm just not going to say anything about that."

"That's okay," she said. "Your face already told the story."

"I guess I need to have a chat with my face." Thinking about Malfoy made him recall something else from their talk. "Oh, I wanted to ask both of you about something he said." Figuring that Malfoy's criticism of him for not thinking more before walking into the forest wasn't something that he couldn't repeat to Hermione, he told them what Malfoy had said. "So, I wanted to know what you two thought of that. I mean, part of the reason I didn't talk to you was that I knew you'd try to talk me out of it, and I was sure that it had to be done."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look; it seemed to Harry that they'd discussed the topic before, but he wasn't sure. Expecting the always-opinionated Hermione to speak first, he was surprised when Ron did. "Well, obviously, he's got kind of a point. Since it wasn't until Voldemort was dead that we found out you did that, it seemed pointless to spend much time debating whether you did the right thing or not. It was done. And obviously, we would have tried to talk you out of it, if you'd come to us and told us. At that point, I wouldn't have been able to think through all the ins and outs of it. It would have been just, 'are you crazy?'"

"Since it happened," continued Hermione, "I did think a lot along the same lines Malfoy did. I think he's right, but there is another side, one that you just said you mentioned to him: that it would mean he could still come back. The big question is, what are the chances that once dead he would stay dead until you died of old age, and if he did manage to come back before you died, how many deaths would he cause. Those two things have to be weighed against each other, and it's not easy, because it's hard to guess the chances of his coming back again. A reasonable argument can be made for doing what you did. But I have to agree with Malfoy, it's the kind of thing that deserves more thought than you gave it."

Harry nodded. "I didn't even think twice about it at the time; a thought never occurred to me along the lines that you and Draco said. It's hard to say what would have happened if it had. But I might very well have done it anyway. It was just too big a chance to take, and..." He thought for a minute in silence.

"If I didn't manage to kill him, I think I would have felt like I screwed it up, like I was supposed to go into the forest and didn't because I was too chicken, and I'd have felt like, every person that Voldemort killed after that was my fault, something I could have stopped by giving myself up. If that had happened, I would have spent my time wishing I'd done it. And even if I did manage to kill him, I think I'd be obsessed with the idea of him coming back, I feel like I'd never have gotten a moment's peace. Even when he was nothing more than a ghost, my scar still hurt sometimes. I don't think I'd want to live my life like that."

"Better than not living at all," said Ron solemnly.

"I'm not sure I agree with that," Harry responded. "Like Dumbledore said to Voldemort that time, there are worse things than dying. I think one of them may be knowing that your death might have saved lives, and your life might cost lives. Don't get me wrong; it sucks, and I know that. But sometimes... that's just life, I guess. You do what you can with the cards you're dealt.

"Besides... I know this hadn't happened when I made that decision, but... especially now, I'm not afraid of dying. That thing that happened, I think of it as meeting Dumbledore at King's Cross... I don't really know what it was; you could say it was my mind playing tricks on me, and I couldn't say you're absolutely wrong. But I know what I felt, and I felt that was real, in some way. I felt that there's something that happens after you die, and it's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing specific said that, it was just a feeling. But if some doctor said to me, you're going to die tomorrow, I wouldn't be that bothered."

Ron and Hermione exchanged an alarmed look. "Well, we would, so don't do that," said Hermione sharply.

"I wasn't planning on anything," Harry protested. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, and you know what we mean," Ron retorted. "Not that anything similar will ever happen again, but... don't go walking into any forests."

Harry nodded, appreciating their concern. "I won't, don't worry."

"I wonder," said Ron, "you said that Dumbledore said in Snape's memories that you had to die, but then at the Hog's Head, the portrait said he suspected it didn't have to happen, he hoped it wouldn't. Why didn't he say that to Snape?"

"I don't think it was his plan for Snape to show me his memories," said Harry thoughtfully. "Because they didn't know Snape would die like that. I think Snape just did it on the spur of the moment, because he saw me. Maybe Dumbledore thought my surviving was such a longshot that it wasn't worth mentioning to Snape. Also, maybe part of the point was that I had to do it thinking there wasn't a chance I'd survive, that it wouldn't have worked the right way otherwise. There's all kinds of possibilities. But for me it always gets back to the idea that since it worked out for the best, it's what I was supposed to do."

"Harry," said Hermione quietly, "there are all kinds of logical flaws in that argument."

"I know. But it just feels right to me. I wouldn't try to argue it logically."

"Well," said Ron, "since this is all about life, death, fate, and all that, I guess logic doesn't have a whole lot to do with it."

"My thought exactly," agreed Harry.

Kreacher came in and announced that dinner was ready; Harry had been noticing that it smelled rather good from the other room. It was roast pork with onion and potato soup, and French bread. Harry thanked Kreacher as he, Ron, and Hermione dug in, cutting up pork and buttering bread.

"How did you feel," asked Hermione, "about this thing of Snape fancying your mother? I mean, if I were you, I'd think it was kind of creepy."

"I guess I have some feeling like that. But seeing the memories, from Snape's point of view, gave me a feeling for him that I wouldn't have had otherwise. Even though I'm glad he didn't end up with her--not only because I wouldn't have been born--I did feel sorry for him. I could sense how painful it was for him, to want someone for all those years and never get her, and worst of all, to lose her to someone you hated, who'd treated you really badly."

"I guess I can understand that," said Hermione. "It was kind of ironic that you happened to be there when he died. If nothing else, you could grant him his one last wish."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, when he asked you to look at him."

"Oh, that," said Harry. "I didn't understand that, I wondered why he did that."

She gave him a look that told him he should have known, but her tone was solemn. "Harry, everyone's always told you that you have your mother's eyes. He told you to look at him. He wanted the last thing he saw in life to be your mother's eyes. He saw her, in you, when you looked at him."

A chill rushed through Harry. He realized he should have thought of it, but it simply hadn't occurred to him. Not sure what to say, he said nothing, taking a bite of his food instead.

"But then, why was Snape so horrible to Harry all those years?" asked Ron.

"From what I saw in the memories, and things he said to me, he saw me as if I was my father. Like, he'd accuse me of being arrogant, which is pretty funny. I may be many things, but I'm not arrogant. But it was strange, how he wanted to keep me safe because my mother would have wanted it, but he treated me badly, which my mother definitely wouldn't have wanted. So, I'm not sure I get that."

Hermione shrugged. "Right now, even you can't understand why you feel the way you do. So, maybe it's not so strange that Snape, loving your mother but hating your father, might act in certain ways that seem contradictory." Harry nodded, feeling that it made sense, at least a little. He knew he would probably never truly understand.

Ron changed the topic. "Harry, have you asked Dumbledore--I mean, the one in the portrait--"

"It's probably better to call the one in the portrait 'Albus,' since he wants to be called that anyway, and the one that we knew as 'Prof--"

"Professor Dumbledore, got it," Ron cut in. "Have you asked Albus whether he knows about, or remembers, the talk you had with him when you almost died?"

Harry shook his head. "I've thought about it, actually, but I've decided I'm not going to ask. I think the answer would be 'no,' but I don't think that would prove anything. I'd rather just leave it a mystery.

"So, let me ask you guys the question I don't want anyone asking me," said Harry humorously. "What are you going to do, from now? Hermione?"

"I don't know. I seem to be in demand right now, but... I'd kind of like to get my N.E.W.T.s, although I'm not sure how I'd do it. Something about going to Hogwarts next year really doesn't appeal to me. No offense to Ginny and Luna, but I don't want to be their classmate. I've thought about doing it by independent study; some of them can definitely be gotten that way. I'm just not sure yet."

"There must be jobs you can get right now."

"That's true," she acknowledged. "I didn't mean I had to get my N.E.W.T.s, just that I'd like to. It was a goal for so long, it's kind of hard to let go of. You must know what I mean; you've wanted to be an Auror for a while. I know you're not thinking about it now, but you must've had a twinge of something when Hestia said you'd be sure to make Auror if you tried."

Harry paused. "Maybe a little twinge."

"Good man," said Ron. "Admit that twinge. We won't tell anyone."

"But yes," continued Hermione, "I've been told by people at the Ministry that a--I should say, 'Merlin First' is shorthand for people who got the Order of Merlin, First Class--I've been told that there's no way that a Merlin First is ever going to have a hard time getting a job, even if they have no skills--"

"Are you talking about me?" interjected Ron with mock annoyance; Harry grinned as Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

"As I was saying," she went on, "the prestige is really high. Many companies would be happy to hire Ron or me just to be able to say that they employ, for example, 'Ron Weasley, Order of Merlin First Class recipient.'"

"Yeah, I've heard that too," said Ron. "A few people, department heads, have said to me, if you want to join the Ministry, you can have this or that position, which usually takes a few years to get. But there's something I don't understand. If a Merlin First is so prestigious, why doesn't the Ministry give them out like they were candy? To the Minister's friends, political supporters, and so on?"

"Because," replied Hermione, "the Council of Elders has to approve them."

"Ah," Ron said, nodding. "That would do it. I hate to think how many Fudge would have given out if he could've."

"You know, Harry," said Hermione, "I was also told that there was a group of people who tried to get the Council to give you one--when you were one year old."

Harry laughed at the absurdity of the notion. "That's really silly."

"People were extremely excited about it, at that time," she pointed out. "But yes, I agree, of course. Anyway, I'm not worried about a job. I guess I'm like you on this--not that I don't want to think about it, but that when the right thing comes along, I'll know it."

"As for me," said Ron, "much as I long to get my N.E.W.T.s, which as you know has been my long-cherished goal--"

"Oh, shut up," retorted Hermione.

"I suppose I'm content to live on my hundred Galleons a month for now, and also not make any decisions so quickly. Not that I wouldn't consider joining the Ministry at some point, but it just isn't the kind of thing that gets me excited. Don't know if I'm cut out for influence trading."

"I hope not," said Harry. "It's strange... the three of us, sitting here, out of Hogwarts. I mean, when we were on the run, there was always so much stress, pressure, feeling of 'what are we going to do now,' that even though it was boring a lot of the time, we couldn't relax. Now, we're relaxing, not at Hogwarts. It just... like I said, feels strange. Like we're not where we should be."

"Do you ever feel satisfied, because Voldemort's gone?" asked Hermione.

"You'd think I would," Harry agreed. "It feels like I should. And I'm glad he's gone, but... no, I really don't have that feeling you're talking about. I guess that throughout my life, especially my time at Hogwarts, I've always felt as though the next crisis was just around the corner, because it almost always was. It's like, I can't let down my guard. Who knows, maybe that's what's causing me to be weird like I am. I just keep feeling like something else is going to happen."

"I don't know, it feels like it's something more that's causing this," suggested Hermione. "Something deeper." Harry shrugged, unable to think of anything more to say about it.

She spoke again, compassion in her voice. "Harry... you really don't get any enjoyment from being a hero?"

He shook his head. "I've been a hero, all my life. At least, I've had people treat me as if I was one. You know I never liked it."

"Yes, but now you actually are one. That doesn't make it different?"

"Doesn't seem to. Kingsley said more or less the same thing, when he made me breakfast, but... I'm glad that what I did, what we did, has helped wizarding society so much... but that's about it."

"Do you feel that you have a real connection to society?" she asked.

"I never thought about it that way before," he said, mulling it over. "I suppose not, but... that's interesting. Maybe I don't trust the support I get now, because I know things can turn on you in a second, even if you didn't do anything. Everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin in second year, that I put my name into the Goblet in fourth year, that I was lying about Voldemort coming back... I know that things can change. I guess at Hogwarts, I got used to the idea that the only ones I could really trust were you two." He hadn't meant for it to sound maudlin, but it was true, and he didn't want to not say it just because of how it sounded.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, her eyes misting up. "Thank you..." She reached over and took his right hand, holding it for a few seconds.

Ron looked affected as well. "Thank you, Harry," he said simply.

Harry nodded. "Well, anyway... so maybe I don't feel like I have that much of a connection to society. Why did you ask, anyway? It's kind of a strange question."

"It was because of something Ron said yesterday. He said that with what he's doing, he felt more connected to wizarding society than he ever had before. I suppose I do too, even though I'm not working with as many people as he is. It's a shame that you don't get to feel that way, because I have a feeling that wizarding society feels pretty connected to you."

"Yeah, but how long would that last? I mean, one Rita Skeeter article, and everyone's back to thinking I'm crazy."

"Well, first of all, Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything about us if she knows what's good for her," said Hermione smugly. "Normally she'd be all over this, but she hasn't written a thing about it. But secondly, I think your standing is high enough that it would take more than that. I mean, not that I blame you for feeling that way, but the people who thought that about you before, first, were kids, and second, didn't know you. So I understand, but I don't think it would be like that."

After a long silence, Harry said, "I don't know. You could be right. I just have a hard time feeling that way."

"Well, I think at some point, you will start getting out there and meeting people, talking to them," said Ron. "And when they talk to you, and get to know who you are, they'll start dealing with Harry Potter, the person, rather than Harry Potter, the hero. It just might take some time."

Hermione seemed impressed by Ron's thought. "I agree, that makes sense. Well, anyway, one day at a time. We do think that you really deserve the time off that you're getting."

Harry tried not to smile. "Does that also mean that I deserve to have your mother stop trying to tell me what to do?"

Ron grinned. "Sorry, mate, but you're on your own there. Can't ask for miracles, after all."

"Guess I should know better," he agreed.

They stayed for another two hours, and he felt better than he had since Voldemort had died. As he talked to them, it occurred to him that he was very lucky, and happy that they'd gotten through the last year in one piece. They were his friends, but they also felt like family, more than anything else he had.

* * * * *

The next morning at breakfast, Harry realized that he hadn't asked anyone the day before if there was any news about the goblin situation. The Prophet delivered it: the main article said that the goblins had announced that Gringotts would close, and remain closed, until the new bank was shut down. The article quoted Bill as saying, "This doesn't change anything; it only means that they're no longer pretending to allow people to get to their money. They've just found a new thing to blame it on, but as Harry said, this bank wouldn't have been necessary if the goblins hadn't cut wizards off from Gringotts." Bill went on to say that the bank would stay open regardless of the disposition of Gringotts' dispute with the Ministry, and that events clearly showed that a choice in banking was necessary.

Also reported on the front page was that Kingsley would now negotiate with the goblins personally. One editorial criticized him for doing so, saying that it amounted to appeasing blackmailers, while another said he should have done it sooner. I guess this is good for him, thought Harry, he gets to appear in the middle of the issue. The second editorial suggested that Kingsley had decided to negotiate because he wanted people to feel he was trying to do something to get their gold back, and that he chose this time because now that there was another bank, he could negotiate from a position of greater strength.

In the morning's mail, there was a letter from a Witch Weekly reporter, but not the one who had aborted the article on Hermione's parents. It said that the magazine was planning to do a cover story and article on the Weasley family, and would like to arrange an interview with him in the next two days. If he agreed, he could write back with the date and time.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. He glanced up at Dumbledore's portrait, which was empty. This request was very annoying to Harry, because while he strongly preferred not to give interviews unless absolutely necessary, it would look very bad if he declined comment for an article which would obviously highlight the Weasleys' positive qualities. Ron would understand, thought Harry, but the others might not, especially Ginny and Molly. Just great, another thing I don't want to do, but really have to do. Resignedly, he dashed off a quick note in reply, saying that he would talk to them the next day, at four p.m. I'm not saying anything about the past year, though.

Also in the mail were two Quidditch-related offers: one from Oliver Wood, who said that their Seeker was retiring after the next season and that Harry could be practically guaranteed the starting position if he tried out, and one from the manager of the Chudley Cannons, with an invitation of a tryout and an offer of Top Box tickets to the forthcoming Quidditch World Cup, this year to be held in America. No thanks, he thought, setting the letters aside. Wonder how you travel from country to country, he thought absently. He'd seen the end of such journeys when the Triwizard tournament was held, but there had to be quicker and more efficient ways.

The mail finished, he thought about what he should do that day. He thought about the box upstairs, and thought it might be interesting to have a go at deciphering the functions of some of the artifacts that Dumbledore had left him. Not because he wanted to use them, but for the challenge of it. He wondered if Dumbledore had left cryptic instructions for that very reason. He'd never been very interested in brain teasers, but they were a lot more appealing when you had a lot of time, and nothing specific to do.

Acting on another impulse, he decided to invite Dudley over to do it with him. Partly to be nice, he thought, and partly because it was a good thing to do while talking to someone. He decided, however, that he wouldn't do it if it involved going to the Burrow; he still preferred to avoid Molly for the time being. He Apparated to Dudley's Muggle apartment, where he found Dudley, whom he Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. He told Dudley that he'd Apparate them back when they were done, but Dudley explained that Molly had had Ron set up a Portkey between the Burrow and his apartment.

To Harry's surprise, Dudley asked, "Are you not talking to Molly right now?"

Harry hesitated, not sure how much he could trust Dudley not to repeat what he said. "I'd say I'm taking a break from her. I just don't want to get mad and blow up at her. She seems not to know how to lay off."

Dudley nodded. "She mentioned it yesterday, when I asked something that had to do with you. She said, 'I think Harry doesn't want my help right now.'"

Annoyed, Harry rolled his eyes. "Her 'help?' That's what she calls it?"

Dudley shrugged. "Seems to be a common thing with mothers."

"Yeah, but she's not my mother."

"I get the impression that she adopted you, in her mind, at least. But I can see what you mean. She's constantly telling me, you should do this or that. The difference is that with me, I actually need someone telling me that, at least right now. So, I don't mind."

"Guess it's good for you," Harry agreed. "You're someone she can mother, and you can use it. Maybe her own kids are getting too old, but she can't get out of the habit. Oh, you know, they're probably going to want to interview you for this magazine article they're doing."

"Yeah, they already did."

Oh, great, Harry thought, I hope he didn't say anything about me. "Really? When?"

"Yesterday, the guy was over interviewing Molly, who had told him about me. He asked me some questions about them, and some about you. Don't worry, I didn't answer the ones about you. I haven't been around here long, but I know enough to know that you wouldn't want me to. I just said the Weasleys seemed like nice people, and they'd been really helpful. I couldn't believe it, the guy knew about the toffee thing!"

"Fred or George must've told him. I'm pretty sure Ron or Arthur wouldn't have."

"I guess. I just said, no big deal, I heard they do that to everyone. Of course, it was a big deal then, but I wasn't about to tell this guy that."

"Obviously. Thanks for not talking about me, anyway."

Dudley nodded. "So, what were you thinking of doing?"

Harry Summoned the box of artifacts from the bedroom. "I thought I'd look these over, and I thought you could help me figure out what they do."

"How would I possibly know?"

"Well, it's like a puzzle. You might have ideas that I wouldn't."

"Why don't you just get Hermione over here?"

Harry chuckled. "I don't want it to be that easy."

He reached into the box and pulled out a gray cube, made of a substance that was firm but not unyielding; he had never felt anything like it before. "Save to white for a rainy day; use a little, and I'll be gray. Spend it all, I'll turn to black, but if you do, I can't come back," spoke Dumbledore's voice.

Harry and Dudley exchanged mystified looks. "Well, got any ideas?" Harry asked Dudley jokingly.

Eyes wide, Dudley shook his head. "I was never good at stuff like this."

"It talks about saving and spending," Harry mused aloud, "so it sounds like it's about money, but there doesn't seem to be anyplace to put the money." He spoke the word 'gold,' reached into his bag, and took out a Galleon. He put the Galleon on top of the cube, but nothing happened.

"Maybe you're supposed to put your wand on it, to make it work," suggested Dudley.

"Good idea," said Harry. He knew he would have thought of it himself eventually, but wanted to encourage Dudley to think in magical terms. He took out his wand and touched the tip to the Galleon on top of the cube. Nothing happened. "Save," he said. Still nothing.

He moved the wand, now touching both the Galleon and the cube directly with the wand; as soon as the wand touched the cube, he felt a mild spark; he knew he was onto something. "Save."

He was totally unprepared for what happened: he suddenly felt trapped, unable to move, and the sensation of something being pulled from him, like a vacuum cleaner, but of energy, not matter. After a few seconds, he yanked the wand away. "What happened?" asked Dudley.

Harry explained the sensation. "I feel... I don't know, tired. Like that took something out of me."

"Look," said Dudley. "It's whiter than it was."

Harry looked, and indeed, the cube was a whiter shade of gray than it had been. Suspecting what would happen, but feeling he had to be sure, he touched the cube again. "Spend."

As he had expected, the reverse effect occurred: he suddenly felt more energetic, much as he had before touching it the first time. "It turned back, I was watching it," said Dudley enthusiastically. "You feel better now?" Harry nodded.

Dudley picked it up to look at it closely. "Cool. You can use it to save energy, maybe when you feel good, than later when you need it, you can get it back. Students would use these to study before tests, stay up all night."

"Spend it all, I can't come back," repeated Harry.

"If you use all of it at once, you ruin it," said Dudley. "It doesn't work anymore."

"I guess that's to emphasize that you shouldn't use too much of it at one time," guessed Harry. "Maybe, just for emergencies." He picked up the Galleon and put it back into his bag. "Don't need this."

"Mind if I try?" asked Dudley; Harry gestured his assent. Dudley took out his wand and did as Harry had done, but as soon as his wand touched the cube, Dumbledore's voice intoned, "I serve but one master."

Disappointed, Dudley put down his wand. "I hope they aren't all like that."

"Sorry," said Harry, trying not to grin. Now he knows how I felt all those Christmases, he thought. I can play with the toy, but he can't.

There was a noise upstairs, and Kingsley was suddenly coming down the stairs. "Hi there. What are you two up to?"

"Playing with toys," responded Harry.

"Ah, a Life Cube," said Kingsley, who then looked into the box. "And that's a--"

"Don't tell us," Harry interrupted him. "It's part of the fun, trying to figure out what they are," he said, half-joking.

Kingsley smiled. "Don't worry, I won't give it away. I don't know what half of them are, myself; a few of these are well known, but others are probably one-of-a-kind. Where'd you get them?"

The thought fleetingly occurred to Harry to be careful, as Kingsley was Minister, but he realized he shouldn't think like that. "Dumbledore."

"Ah, had them delivered," nodded Kingsley. "Yeah, most people do that. Well, knowing him, there's probably some really interesting stuff there. Consider yourself lucky I don't confiscate it."

"You'd better not," Harry joked back.

"Mind if I sit?" Harry gestured him to a chair; he and Dudley were on the sofa. "I have a couple of things to ask you. One's a favor, so I'll get that out of the way first." Wary, Harry tried to keep any expression off his face.

"We're having distinguished visitors tomorrow. As you know, I sent Aurors to several countries to try to get information about fighting dementors. A few countries helped, especially America, and we're having a few of their high-level people over to thank them. They specifically asked if they could meet you; apparently, what you did has made the American papers as well. Knowing how you'd feel about it, I didn't make any promises, except that I'd ask you."

More confused than annoyed, Harry asked, "Why do they want to meet me? What's the point of that?"

"It could be for any number of reasons. My guess is that it's because you're very famous here, and people often want to meet famous people, find out what they're like."

"Can you tell them that what I'm like is that I don't like to meet people for no good reason?"

"Should I take that as a 'no'?" As Harry paused, Kingsley added, "They did help us out, and they didn't have to. I know how you feel, but--"

"All right, all right, I'll do it," Harry conceded. He wondered if Kingsley was trying to make him feel guilty if he declined.

"Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it. Now, the other thing, this is something I want your opinion about. I've been negotiating with goblins for the better part of the day. And a charming folk they are."

"I can definitely believe that," replied Harry, also deadpan. "Look at that nice invitation they gave me the other day."

"Yes, exactly. They claim that was a misunderstanding, of course. They--"

"You can forget it, I'm not going to meet them."

Kingsley grinned. "Wouldn't dream of asking. I was going to say, you saw today that they're already pushing to get your bank closed. In the negotiations, they've made all their old demands, plus the new one, of shutting down the bank, and having Gringotts reaffirmed as the only bank of the English wizarding world."

"Is there some law that there's not allowed to be any other bank except Gringotts?" asked Dudley.

"Good question," said Kingsley. "They claim that there is, but it's not something we recognize. They say that at the end of the last wizard-goblin conflict, about a hundred and ten years ago, the Minister of that time privately assured them that Gringotts would stay theirs, and that no banking competition would be allowed. That's not recorded in our history, or codified in any law, but they insist it happened, and that it was witnessed by one of their leaders personally. He's offered to show us a Pensieve memory of the conversation, but the problem is--"

"Pensieve memories can be faked," said Harry, thinking of Slughorn.

"Exactly. They claim that the Minister told them that it couldn't be made law right then, but that it would in the future, and of course it never was."

Harry scoffed. "They can't expect us to follow a law that was never official, based only on their word. And also, even if there was such a law, they shouldn't be allowed to use that to hold us and our money hostage."

"Of course, I said something similar, and we went back and forth about that for a while. The reason I'm here, Harry, is that I do have to consider my options. The last thing in the world I want to do is close the bank, but I may have to consider it. I'm here to ask what your reaction would be if I were to do that, how bad you would consider that to be."

"I was thinking about this earlier, actually. I hate the idea, but if you think it's necessary to get people's money back, I'm not sure I could say, absolutely not. I guess in the end, I'd support whatever Bill decided."

"Funny, he said more or less the same thing, and that he'd support whatever you decided. So, maybe you two need to get together and talk about it."

"Maybe we should," Harry agreed. "But I was wondering, isn't Gringotts more or less finished anyway? I mean, if you're a bank, people have to have confidence that you'll be there, that you won't run away with their money, and that they can always get their money. I mean, even if I wasn't Undesirable No. 1 for the goblins, I'd definitely never put my gold in Gringotts again."

"Yes, of course, I've had the same thought. This is really about getting people's money out of there, first and foremost. But I'd be very surprised if much of the wizarding population was willing to put any trust in Gringotts again. To be honest--and this isn't to be repeated--" he gave Dudley a glance, "we feel that what's likeliest is that we strike some deal involving shutting down the bank, free repairs, a new dragon--probably a baby--and a token payment, nothing near what they're asking for. But there'd be nothing to stop us from re-opening the bank in a few years, when everyone would have had the chance to get their money out. The goblins wouldn't like it, but there'd be nothing they could do, and after what they've done now, they've earned it."

Harry's expression didn't change, but he felt some of the same discomfort he'd felt a few weeks ago--had it really been that recently?--when he'd told Griphook what amounted to a lie in order to get his cooperation. Yet he was disinclined to judge Kingsley, since the goblins' actions left Kingsley the choice of being dishonest with them, or allowing them to blackmail wizards any time they chose by shutting down Gringotts. Sometimes it seemed that dishonesty was defensible. Malfoy would love this, thought Harry. He'd say, of course, you moron, don't be naïve.

"I've heard that people are happy with the new bank," said Dudley. "Won't they be angry if you shut it down?"

"Yes, they will," agreed Kingsley. "This is one of those situations where I'll make people unhappy no matter what I do, just different people. Anyone who has little or no money in Gringotts will prefer that I leave the Bank of the Phoenix open, and anyone with a fair amount in Gringotts will want me to shut it down. The first group will be more numerous, but the second will be more intense in its desire, and more politically powerful. In the end, I'll probably let the politics decide it for me. I feel that for matters like this, if security isn't an issue, the collective will of the people should decide it.

"Well, I should be heading back; this is just a short break in the negotiations. You two can get back to your toys." He headed for the stairs.

"Have fun," Harry called after him.

Kingsley turned and looked at him sourly. "Don't rub it in. Remember, you can have my job any time you want it."

"No, thanks," replied Harry, as Kingsley continued up the stairs. "Now, where were we..." He picked up a flexible-looking sheet of white material that appeared to be a cross between rubber and plastic. Again, Dumbledore's voice could be heard as soon as Harry touched it. "Hide me under a bed, in a necklace, or in a fingernail; only you will find me."

"In a fingernail?" marveled Dudley. "How does that work?"

"I guess you can reduce its size magically," said Harry. He pointed his wand at it, but nothing happened. "Hmmm..."

"Well, it says you can hide it, but what's it for?" asked Dudley. "It must have a function other than being hidden, or it wouldn't make sense."

"Good point." A few minutes of thought yielded nothing.

"Well, it kind of looks like a covering," Dudley suggested. "Maybe you cover something with it..." He stood and picked up a book from the coffee table, then put it under the wrapping. Nothing seemed to happen. He then put the book on top of the wrapping, and folded the white material over it. Once it was completely covered, the wrapping seemed to take over on its own, fastening itself more securely around the book, the edges seeming to fold into the other material. Harry picked up the package, which was emitting a soft glow of light.

"Nice job," Harry complimented Dudley, who nodded, clearly pleased. "Definitely on the right track... but why the light?"

"What light?"

"The light that's surrounding it."

Dudley looked more closely, then touched it, and held it. "I don't see anything."

"Hmmm. Must be like the other one, something only for the owner. But you can hide it in a fingernail. Well, let's try reducing it again."

He pointed his wand, and this time it suddenly started shrinking; he kept shrinking it until it had the same width as a postage stamp. The light surrounding it had increased in intensity as its size decreased. "Ah, I get it now."

"What?"

"You still don't see anything?" Dudley shook his head. "Interesting... the reason for the light, which I guess only I can see, is so no matter how small it gets, I'll never lose it, because the light will signal its location. Very clever."

He reduced it until it was a millimeter wide, then put it onto the fingernail of his left index finger; he then reduced it more, until it was invisible. He pressed it into his fingernail, then held the finger upside down, then shook it, and finally banged it against the coffee table. "There's a tiny, but bright light coming from my fingernail, which I have no trouble seeing," he explained. "Great object. But why didn't Dumbledore use this to hide the Sorcerer's Stone?" Dudley's blank look reminded him that there was still a lot Dudley didn't know; he spent the next several minutes telling a brief version of the story.

"Maybe he didn't have it then," said Dudley. "Or maybe this doesn't work with certain magical objects."

"Anything's possible, I suppose. Well, there is one magical item I want to try it with." He increased its size until it was easily removed from the top of his fingernail, then restored it to its normal size. He Summoned the bottomless bag, as he thought of it, that he'd had Kreacher buy recently. He wrapped it, and it worked exactly as the book had. "So cool," he said enthusiastically. "This is really good if I'm carrying something that I don't want people to know I have."

"Like what?" wondered Dudley.

"I don't know. A box full of artifacts?" Harry joked. "This would've been handy a few times at Hogwarts, that's for sure."

After reversing the procedure again, he set aside the sheet, and picked up a small box. He opened it to find what at first looked like a pendant. He thought, another one? It seemed to have one chain, but two pendants, which fit together into a circle. One was in the shape of a crescent moon; the other, the rest of the circle, the part of the moon that couldn't be seen because it was dark. "Under the same moon, always together even when apart," Dumbledore's voice said. Harry pulled at the two pendants to find that there were two chains, but they appeared as one until pulled apart. He put them down, and the chains melded back together to make one.

"Hey, that's the shape the moon is now," said Dudley. "I happened to see it last night. Do you suppose the pendant changes with the cycle of the moon?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," said Harry.

Dudley nodded. "Well, I guess you won't be using this one for a while."

"Why is that?"

Dudley was surprised that Harry didn't get it. "These are two necklaces, obviously supposed to be worn by two people who are married, or lovers, or whatever. 'Together even when apart.' It must be that they have some function that you won't know until you and another person wear them at the same time."

Impressed, Harry nodded. "That makes sense. Well, I won't find out anytime soon, then." He put the necklaces back into their box, then into the box of artifacts. Dudley looked at Harry quizzically, but didn't say anything.

They spent the next two hours going over the rest of the items, and worked out the function of all but two. Discussing them later, the necklaces were the only ones he preferred not to talk about.

* * * * *

Soon after Dudley left, Bill came over. He and Harry found that they felt much the same way: if shutting down the bank was necessary for people to get their money from Gringotts, then they would reluctantly do it. But, as Bill pointed out, the framework and paperwork for the bank would still exist, and it could be resurrected anytime in the future on short notice.

As had become his habit, Harry checked the mail again after dinner, and was surprised to find a response from Luna. Wow, he thought, that was fast, I just sent the last one yesterday morning. Guess it doesn't take the owls that long. He opened it quickly.

Dear Harry,

As before, your letter was extremely interesting. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone--even my father, I'm sure he'd love to print information like that. I don't know if he's gone back to working on the Quibbler; I hope he has. It always gave him a purpose, which he needs right now.

I feel like I'm getting to understand you more and more. I didn't know that about your childhood. Nobody did, except for the Weasleys, I guess. That probably affected you a lot, like my mother dying affected me. Maybe you didn't think so much of yourself at Hogwarts, even when you did great things, because your aunt and uncle didn't think much of you. I feel sorry for you that you had to go through something like that, that you totally didn't deserve. I know you probably don't want pity, which is why you didn't tell most people this. Still, I can't help feeling bad for you. You didn't have people who loved you, so maybe now if someone loves you, you can't understand it well. I don't know if that factors into your current problem, but it seems like it might. Most of wizarding society loves you now--I'm using 'love' in a different way now, but I think you know what I mean--but you might feel that they don't know you well enough to, or they couldn't really love you, since nobody in your life did until much later.

People who've suffered the kind of things you did early in life, I hear, create a kind of shield that protects them from being hurt, but also keeps people out. I hope that by now, you understand that people can and do love you, especially people close to you. The only limitation on that is the extent to which you don't let them get to know you.

Again, Harry was fascinated by what he read. No one had ever spoken to him of things like this before, and he felt that what she said made a lot of sense. Was she right about how his early childhood had affected his emotional life? He didn't know, of course, but it seemed reasonable. He was very surprised at the insight she seemed to have, even though he felt he hadn't told her that much about his life overall. Especially the past year...

He suddenly wondered: if I told her what had happened in the last year, would she have any ideas about why I feel like I do these days? He was still reluctant to tell anyone, but he knew she cared about him, and that he could trust her. Not talking about it was a reflex, but he understood from what she'd written that he had a lot of reflexes, and not all of them were healthy. He had never thought about why he did some things he did, but maybe it was time to start doing so.

After reading her letter again, he took out a piece of paper, and started writing. A few hours later, an hour past his usual bedtime, he wasn't finished, but he put away the pen and paper. I'll finish it tomorrow night, he thought.

As Harry ate breakfast the next day, he read a front-page Prophet story about the situation with the dementors. The story's primary message was that people were getting tired of keeping their windows closed, of not being able to go outside except in Diagon Alley. There were several quotes from ordinary citizens expressing their impatience; one man said, "The previous governments knew how to deal with dementors, so maybe we should get a Minister who can. Shacklebolt may be a great fighter, but a Minister has to protect the citizens."

The impetus for the article was a collective request from the Hogsmeade Merchants' Association for "effective action to be taken against the dementors, or failing that, a magical shield to keep dementors out, such as exists in Diagon Alley." Business had been down drastically in many areas of the country, Portkeys notwithstanding. The article quoted an official from the Trade Department of the Ministry, saying that planning was already underway for such a shield for the business areas of Hogsmeade and other villages, and asked for patience.

Most disturbingly to Harry, the article contained anonymous quotes from fairly high up in the Ministry itself suggesting that Kingsley's approach to dealing with the dementors had significant opposition. An undersecretary was quoted as saying, "There are ways to deal with dementors, and Minister Shacklebolt knows this. He simply refuses to do anything but fight, and he is not open to debate. We need a Minister with more flexibility, subtlety, and political finesse."

Kingsley's quote in response gave no quarter. "Surrendering to one's enemies is craven weakness, not political finesse. Many accepted Voldemort's reign because it was easier and less risky for them personally even as it was disastrous for the population as a whole, especially the most vulnerable among us. This situation is not identical, but the same principle applies. We continue to work on, and refine, magical protection of open areas; we will do the same in every wizarding village if we have to. But we will not allow them to do as they please with the human population."

Finishing the article, Harry was angry with the people who were complaining about the dementors, and found himself reaching for paper and a pen. He wrote:

I have to say that I'm very disappointed that people aren't giving Kingsley and the government time to do something about the dementors, and especially that some people in the Ministry are trying to undermine what he's doing. If you're going to complain, then at least be brave enough to use your name, if you stand behind your opinion. I have no problem with what the merchants asked, though, since they didn't advocate giving in to the dementors. They just want to be safe, and I know it's the government's responsibility to do that. But just two weeks ago, we had a government that was using dementors to terrorize people they didn't like. The dementors got used to it, and they're angry now that they can't anymore. That's the fault of those who supported Voldemort, not Kingsley.

Some people asked me why I did what I did, why I risked so much and allowed my close friends to risk so much. The basic answer was that it was the right thing to do. What Kingsley's doing right now is the right thing to do. Ask yourself, would it be okay to have Voldemort back to terrorize part of the population, as long as he didn't do anything to you personally? Anyone who criticizes what Kingsley is doing is basically saying yes, that'd be okay. If you have some way to keep the dementors away while making sure that not a single person who doesn't want to be around them isn't, for God's sake tell Kingsley, and he'll do it. But if even one person is stuck near the dementors against his will, that's one too many, and it's unacceptable. I know what being near dementors feels like, and there's literally nothing worse.

I know that now it's inconvenient, it's annoying, it costs businesses money. But Kingsley is doing his best to deal with that, and it takes time. If we make a deal with the dementors, if we allow them to feast on the weak and helpless so we don't have to be inconvenienced, then it means we didn't learn anything from our experience with Voldemort. I was bad at History of Magic, but not that bad. I'm all for debating how we fight them, but let's not debate whether we should fight them.

One more thing: I think a lot of people may not know what dementors are like, haven't personally been around them. I know that many people were forced to be around them in the last year, when Voldemort was in power. I'd like to request that as many of those people as possible write to the Prophet to say what it was like, and I hope the Prophet will print all of those letters. The more you know what dementors are like, the more you'll agree that we just can't have them as any part of our society. Even if they don't attack you personally.

Well, that was longer than I thought it would be when I started, thought Harry as he looked over the two pages he had written. But, reading it again, he was satisfied with what he'd said. His experience with the Prophet over the past two weeks suggested that this would be at the top of the front page of the next day's Prophet, but that was all right. He had to do what was right.

Looking at the mail, he remembered last night's letter to Luna, which he hadn't had the chance to finish. He picked it up, read over what he'd written so far, and thought about what to say next. He wrote:

I can't seem to think about a job, but that's not such a big deal. There's no hurry to decide what I'm going to do. Professor McGonagall offered me the DADA position starting in September, and it's tempting. I like the subject, and I liked teaching it for the D.A. Of the offers I've had, it's the most appealing. (Well, except for the Aurors, but that wasn't a specific offer.) But there's just something telling me I shouldn't take it, that I shouldn't take anything. It's annoying, because I know she'll have to hire someone else, and this may not come again. But I just have to wait until I can accept it without hesitating. What I don't know is why I'm hesitating.

I also can't seem to think about a girlfriend, which is a bigger deal. You probably know that I broke up with Ginny--though we hadn't been together that long--because I was going to track down the Horcruxes, and it was necessary for her safety. She seemed to understand; she didn't have that bad a reaction. I was a little surprised that her reaction wasn't worse, to tell you the truth. But after Voldemort was dead, and I woke up the next day feeling strange, like I still do... it seemed like she expected me to pick up where we left off, and I just felt like I couldn't do that. Again, I don't know why.

It wasn't anything she did, or said. Maybe I had to turn my emotions off when I left to do what I had to do, and it's hard to turn them back on again. Now when I think about why I liked her, it's hard to think of an answer, besides that she's pretty. She's a Weasley, she likes to fly, and isn't afraid of a fight, all of which I like and respect. But I don't feel like I know her, how she thinks, how she feels. Was that not important before, when the important thing was how it felt when she kissed me? Or is it just important now, and if so, why, if it wasn't then? It feels a little like it felt with Cho; I was really attracted to her, but I didn't really know her, either.

The first time I saw her after Voldemort was gone, I told her I needed some time. She obviously wasn't happy, but didn't argue with me. I just assumed my feelings would come back. But they haven't, and it just feels like they're not going to. But why not, if nothing's changed between us? Anyway, probably partly because I don't know why, I haven't wanted to talk about it, or think about it. Maybe I'm trying to hide it from myself. You said I didn't let people get to know me; maybe I also don't let myself get to know me. I just wish I would, because this is really annoying. It's just as well that she's at Hogwarts, because if she asked me what was going on, there's nothing I could say that wouldn't hurt her.

I've never told anyone this, even Ron and Hermione. (Of course, she's Ron's sister, so I couldn't talk to him about it anyway.) I hope you can give me some advice. Not about relationships--I don't think you have so much experience with that (at least, not that I know of)--but about understanding myself, which you seem to be good at, and I'm not.

Harry stopped writing, and read again what he'd written. He wondered if he really wanted to send it. It was far more personal than anything he'd ever put on paper, and maybe more personal than he'd ever said to anyone. But he felt that Luna really understood him, and he wanted to know what she thought. He also felt strongly that something about her engendered trust; he knew she wouldn't tell anyone what he'd said. He folded the paper and set it aside; he would finish the letter tonight, and make a final decision on whether to send that section or not.

After a quiet early afternoon, Ron came through the fireplace at a quarter to three, as Harry was starting to get ready to go to the Ministry. "Well, you sure know how to set off a firestorm."

"They got the letter already?"

"A few hours ago. Copies of it are flying around the place. You really didn't like that article this morning, did you?"

"Guess you could tell. What are people saying?"

"Two main themes. One is that some people are surprised that you're getting involved in politics--"

"I'm not trying to get involved in politics," Harry protested.

"I know, and I told people that, but they said that by criticizing an Undersecretary, you are whether you knew it or not. The other theme is that people are ducking for cover. Even that undersecretary--he was anonymous in the article, but everyone apparently knows who he is--backed off after your letter, saying that he's not advocating letting the dementors have their way with anyone, just that Kingsley should be investigating all possibilities."

Harry scoffed. "That's just a different way of saying the same thing. There are no other 'possibilities' than fighting them, or letting them have some people."

"Yeah, but the point is he backed off, even if only rhetorically," said Ron. "I just talked to Percy, and you know how he has his ear to the ground. He said he's never seen anything like it, that it was a huge political explosion. He said that because you're so popular and respected now, even ordinary citizens will hesitate to criticize Kingsley for a while, because they'll be ashamed to, and politicians won't dare do it, for fear of pissing you off. 'Any politician who makes an enemy of Harry Potter is in deep trouble,' he said." Ron surveyed Harry with amusement, obviously knowing that Harry had been totally ignorant of the effect his letter would have.

Harry read as much in Ron's face, and replied, "Well, what can I say. I'm a political genius."

Laughing, Ron responded, "I always knew it. So, what are you up to?"

Harry was suddenly very conscious of the letter on his desk that contained things he absolutely did not want Ron to read, even though it was folded and put in an out-of-the-way place. "I was just getting ready to go, actually. Kingsley wants me to meet some Americans, for some reason."

"Oh, yes, they helped with the dementors," recalled Ron. "Well, it seems reasonable, considering your letter. Reward those who helped us with your esteemed presence."

"You'd better watch out, or you'll have more of my esteemed presence than you know what to do with."

"I'm really scared. So, want to go back with me?"

"No, I thought I'd use the Portkey, avoid the gawkers. So, you just came to tell me about that?"

"Yes. Oh, no, one other thing. I was talking to Dudley earlier, and he'd found out a few things about this adult education school. The one in America, anyway, which he prefers to France. The biggest problem is that it'll cost two thousand Galleons a year, for four years. I may not take your money, but it's possible he would. I was wondering what you'd think of loaning him the money to go there."

Harry shrugged. "I'll give it to him if he wants, I have tons of it. He can pay me back if he wants, but it's no big deal."

Ron nodded. "Thought you might say that, but I didn't want to presume. I'm sure that'll help him, since I don't think his parents were going to be willing to pay for it."

"That's for sure," Harry chuckled. "But I'm surprised the Ministry doesn't pay for it, since they'd want people like him to get trained."

"Apparently the Ministry will loan you the money, but only if you don't have relatives with enough money. Something like that, anyway."

"Was it your idea to ask me? Doesn't seem like something he'd think of."

"I just thought it was a good idea," said Ron casually, not directly answering Harry's question, and confirming Harry's silent speculation that the whole thing was Molly's idea. I guess she figures that if her name is associated with it, I'll resist it.

"Okay. Well, I'm taking the Portkey. See you later."

Ron headed to the fireplace, and Harry walked upstairs. He grabbed the Portkey, and in a second was in Kingsley's office.

Alone, Kingsley immediately stood. "Harry, thanks for coming. Darlene just told me that the Americans just arrived at the Foreign Ministry, so it'll be a few minutes before they get here. While they do..." Kingsley's face took on a more earnest look that Harry had ever seen on him. "I wanted to thank you for that letter this morning."

Harry shrugged dismissively. "I just wrote it because I was angry. I wasn't specifically trying to help you."

"I figured that," Kingsley agreed. "And I thought you probably didn't know what the effect would be. I've been told by the political people that you just single-handedly bought me two months or so of not being hassled about this, which is a lot, considering the other hassles I have. But it meant a lot partly because of that, and partly because it obviously comes from the same emotional place it comes from with me. It's nice to have somebody with you when you're trying to do the right thing."

"No problem," said Harry, not knowing what else to say.

Grinning, Kingsley added, "Also, I wish I could write the kind of letter you did, where you just let it fly. I have to think about politics, who I'm going to piss off by doing this or that. I envy you that you don't have to think about that, at least for now."

"What do you mean, 'at least for now?'"

"There will come a time in the future," said Kingsley in a slightly exaggerated world-weary tone, "when it will really matter what people think of you, what your image is. You'll find yourself editing your words before you speak, thinking about who you'll annoy by saying this or that. You'll look back on this time and think, 'it was nice when I was young and naïve, and could say anything I wanted. I wish I were there again.'"

Harry raised his eyebrows; he never would have thought of such a thing. "All I can say is, I hope you're wrong."

"I hope I am, too," said Kingsley as the door to his office opened; Darlene ushered in three men in blue robes. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming. Kingsley Shacklebolt, and this is Harry Potter."

The three Americans introduced themselves and handshakes were given all around. "It's very nice to meet you two," said the American who was their senior Auror. "I've heard a lot about how both of you fought... what's his name..."

"Voldemort," supplied Harry. Turning to Kingsley, he added, "You know, we should have called him that. Instead of calling him You-Know-Who, we should have just called him What's-His-Name. I could have lived with that."

Kingsley laughed, and explained the taboo of Voldemort's name to the Americans. "Harry's evidently been on a little crusade on the subject."

"All it did was build him up, make him seem like more than he was."

"Yes, I definitely agree," said the senior Auror. "You don't want to encourage their delusions of grandeur. We had a Dark wizard a dozen years back who would kill people for mispronouncing his name."

"Wow," said Harry. "You should have just called him, 'He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Mispronounced.'" Again, Kingsley chuckled, and explained the reference to the Americans.

"That wouldn't have been a bad idea," agreed the amused Auror. "But most people just took to leaving a few seconds of silence where his name would have been. Many of us mispronounced it on purpose, on principle, but a few of those who did were killed. One has to wonder at the psychology of the deviant, criminal mind. It obviously involves a healthy ego."

"I guess so," said Harry. "Voldemort seemed to have been born with it, though. I saw some memories of him as a child, and he was almost the same way he'd been as an adult. Maybe some people are just born bad."

"You saw memories?" asked a surprised Kingsley. "How did--"

They were interrupted by a blaring siren. "What's that?" Harry shouted.

"It means the magical protection has gone down," replied Kingsley, speaking equally loudly. "Diagon Alley has been breached by dementors."

"That should be impossible!" shouted one of the Americans.

Harry was amazed that no one was moving. "What are we standing around for? Let's go!" Harry tried to Apparate, and failed.

"You can't Apparate out from here, you have to go outside the outer office," said Kingsley. "Excuse us, gentlemen." He and Harry started to run, and were followed by two of the Americans. "We'll go with you, just escort us by Apparition," said one as they ran. "We're out of practice, but we can do Patronuses."

"Sounds good," agreed Kingsley; in a second, they had dashed by Darlene and were out the door. Harry grabbed the arm of the American closest to him, the Auror, and Disapparated.

They were in Diagon Alley, in front of Florean Fortescue's shop. Looking around, he heard a scream a few dozen meters away. "This way!" he shouted to the American, who followed close behind.

On the way, they were intercepted by a half dozen dementors; Harry thought about winning the Quidditch Cup and said the incantation. The stag followed Harry's instructions on where to attack, and he saw the other man's Patronus, a large, shaggy dog, join his. Is that a St. Bernard, Harry couldn't help but wonder. Interesting Patronus.

They continued making their way forward, soon reaching Madam Malkin's clothing shop, from which Harry was sure he'd heard the scream. Closing the door behind the pursuing dementors, Harry looked ahead to see the American already running into the back room; he dashed ahead to help.

The St. Bernard was shooing the two dementors away from the three terrified women who had been backed into a corner of the room; clothes and racks were strewn everywhere, as Harry imagined they had been used in desperate attempts to slow or distract the dementors. Harry's stag helped herd the dementors out of the room. One of the dementors tried to glide away, towards a corner of the main shop area, but Harry's stag rushed behind it, pushing it towards the door again. When the dementors were almost at the door, the American flung it open with his wand. A half dozen were waiting at the door, but they were pushed back by the two Patronuses, along with their comrades who had recently been inside.

Urged by the Auror to check the windows, Harry did; finding two open, he quickly closed them with his wand. The Auror met him in the middle of the room; they exchanged nods, indicating that all was secure. "Where to?" asked the man.

Harry took his arm and Apparated them to the area near the main Diagon Alley fireplace, where they saw a few dozen wizards, half wearing crimson Auror robes, and their Patronuses pushing dementors away. Deciding that the area was well covered, Harry started running, looking through windows into shops. "Most shops should have Portkeys, so it should be okay," Harry said to the Auror as they ran.

They found no one else in trouble, and after a minute, they saw Kingsley and the other American down the street. "It's okay, Harry," shouted Kingsley. "The shield is back up, at least for the moment."

Harry shouted his acknowledgment, and turned to the Auror. "Thanks for the help."

The man smiled. "No problem. We'll send you a bill."

Harry chuckled as a small boy ran up to him. "You're Harry Potter!" he shouted excitedly. "My Dad and I were shopping, and I got one of these!"

He held out a small card, and Harry saw to his surprise that it was a Chocolate Frog card, with his picture on it. His eyebrows went high as he wondered why he hadn't heard about it from the company.

"Could you sign it?" asked the boy, who looked to Harry to be about ten years old. Wow, he looks so young, Harry thought.

"Okay. Are you going to Hogwarts next year?" Harry asked. He took the proffered card, and Diagon Alley started to spin, then disappear. He had no time to register his new surroundings before a hard blow to the back of his head knocked him out.

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 10, The Crucible: Captured by goblins, Harry is interrogated--under goblin truth serum, which causes enormous pain when answers aren't forthcoming--by an old goblin who seems as interested in persuading Harry of his own guilt as he is in getting information.

From Chapter 10: "My life has been one long string of things that happened to me that I couldn't control, or things I was called upon to do because there was no choice. It wouldn't exactly be right to say that I have no preference, but after a while you get resigned to the idea that things happen that you can't control. I go through all kinds of hell and problems to try to save my society, manage to do it, then this happens because I had to do something that hurt your society while trying to save mine. It's like, you can't win. So, to hell with it. You'll do what you'll do."