Harry Potter and the Amulet of the Moon

semprini

Story Summary:
Sequel to Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link. Following the recent disaster suffered by the Aurors, new Auror Leader Harry Potter recruits fifteen trusted members of Dumbledore's Army to become the backbone of the Aurors. To prepare quickly to defend an Auror-less society, they go to an uninhabited island and go back in time a year, planning to train uneventfully, isolated from the rest of the world, and the timeline. But they're pulled back into the whirl of wizarding events in a way they never would have expected.

Chapter 18 - Feints and Lures

Chapter Summary:
When a chance to capture Voldemort presents itself, Harry must decide whether it's an opportunity or a trap.
Posted:
10/22/2009
Hits:
437


Chapter 18

Feints and Lures

A chill went down Harry's spine. "If it is... it could be a threat..."

"Or an invitation," Ron finished.

"That's what I assume," Malfoy agreed. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. I'm not even sure it's him. But the style of paper is one my father says he's known to use. Potter, do you see anything?"

Harry looked at it carefully. "No."

"Granger? Analyze?"

She cast the spell and shook her head.

"I thought that might be the case. Better to be sure, though. I guess there's nothing left to do but open it."

"Is that such a good idea?" asked Ron. "I mean, if it's an invitation, you won't take it, and if it's a threat, why do you need to see that? I don't see how it benefits you to open it."

Malfoy looked at his father, who regarded Ron patiently. "Knowing the Dark Lord as I do, I am confident that while opening it may be dangerous, not opening it would be more so."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I see. Like a Howler, but... nastier."

"Rather," agreed Lucius dryly.

Harry could see the apprehension in Narcissa's eyes as her son warily approached the letter, picked it up, and opened it. Harry kept watch for unseen magic, but none revealed itself. Malfoy glanced up at Harry, who shook his head.

Malfoy read it out loud. "You are to be given a chance that few get. You failed in your task; this was likely due to your youth, and a failure of nerve. Unlike your father, you did not actively betray me. I offer you a second chance. If you accept it, and fulfill your role without failure, your family will be safe, and you will be well rewarded. Appear at the following location at 3:00 p.m. alone..." Malfoy skipped over the location. "There will be a Portkey." Malfoy put it down. "That's all."

"So," said Harry casually. "You gonna do it?"

Malfoy held Harry's gaze for a few seconds until Harry's mouth curled up at the edges ever so slightly. "You're hysterical, Potter," said Malfoy, rolling his eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione chastised him. "That's nothing to joke about!"

Harry shrugged lightly. "Probably the Aurors' influence. They really like black humor. It's positively grim. You'd be appalled," he added to Hermione.

"But I'm a little surprised," he went on, "and Mr. Blackstone, I'd like to know what you think, but... isn't this a sign of weakness?"

The old man gave a small smile. "It is indeed, Leader Potter. You have captured enough of his assistants to put a serious crimp in his operations. He is not in a favorable situation, and this is evidence of that."

"But he's killing three people a day," Ron pointed out.

"Indeed, and the fact that he has been reduced to this speaks volumes."

"Reduced?" repeated Ron in surprise. "He's causing chaos and fear all over the place!"

"Yes, but this is not what he would rather be doing," said Blackstone, with the tone of one giving a lecture. "What he is doing is the best he can do under the circumstances. Twenty years ago, he killed for the sake of enjoyment, to create fear, and especially, to create a reputation. Now he has that, and what he wants is power. Leader Potter abruptly interrupted that goal, so his short-term goal is to re-establish his reputation, and more importantly, to be seen as a more powerful force than Leader Potter. He sees Draco as a possible means to accomplish this. This is, I believe, the sign of weakness that Leader Potter was referring to: that the Dark Lord would accept one who turned his back on him is astonishing, something that he never before would have contemplated."

"But he must know that Draco's not going to do it," pointed out Hermione.

"I suspect," said Lucius, "that he feels that he loses nothing in trying."

"Indeed," agreed Blackstone. "And I am sure he feels he has a good 'hook': he will believe that Draco is jealous of Leader Potter's power. As the Dark Lord sees it, Draco and Leader Potter were the two leaders in their class, at opposite ends of the ideological pole. He knew that you two strongly disliked each other. As it happened, you found common purpose, and found that you had more in common than you might have suspected. But the Dark Lord will believe that at some level the feud is still continuing, and that your ascension to Auror Leader, famous and admired, will leave Draco seething, having lost the power competition."

Malfoy grunted. "Right now, I'm more interested in the survival competition."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I think I get it. He thinks that because that's how he'd feel if it was him."

"Exactly," agreed Blackstone.

"Okay," said Harry. "Well, I'm glad it didn't turn out to be any worse than that. The security situation here is still okay, right?" He looked at Lucius.

"Fine, thank you," Lucius responded. "The letter should pose no threat at this point."

"Well, you never know," said Harry. "I'll be getting back, I have some meetings with some stationary magic and other specialists."

"Oh, is some plan going?" asked Draco.

Slightly embarrassed, Harry shook his head. "Just for my general knowledge. As Auror Leader, in this situation, I need to understand it a lot better than I do now. It was hard enough for me to agree to the meeting without Hermione sitting next to me, to help if I got confused," he added humorously. "It's such a habit. Okay, see you later." He and his friends headed for the Apparition parlor.

He sat in meetings and demonstrations for the better part of the afternoon, breaking only for lunch, and two one-hour periods to do Diagon Alley patrols. He also occasionally did patrols through the halls of the Ministry, since a little over half of the killings had taken place there. Barriers were now up, and yesterday's killings had been of people whose Fidelius Charms had weaknesses. Harry took that as a good sign, in that it was becoming harder to find people to kill. At the same time, of course, living under such tight security was stressful and wearying for many people, and it couldn't continue indefinitely. When Harry did his patrols, he tried to keep up people's spirits, urge them to tolerate the difficulties in the name of defeating Voldemort. It seemed to help for those he talked to, but he couldn't talk to everybody. At some point, the editorial advocating compromise--appeasement, Harry called it in his mind--would become common sense to many people.

One person shopping for food was killed early in the afternoon, then in a severe blow to Harry, the other two--interrupting the last magic instruction session--were Aurors on patrol. He supposed they had been caught off guard, but it was extremely bad, both for Auror morale and social morale in general: if Aurors were not safe, who was? Of course, Aurors were more visible targets, doing patrols, but it was assumed they could take care of themselves.

As he ate dinner in the Auror mess, the atmosphere was subdued, far less chatty than usual. In some ways he felt like an outsider; he'd barely known those who died, having only had one short conversation with each of them. He wasn't yet a real part of them, yet at the same time, the most important part of all, the one who was responsible.

After he ate, he passed Tonks coming in, and she asked for a word with him alone. They sat in a small room usually used for interrogations.

He knew from her face that she was going to speak seriously. "Harry, I wanted to be sure you knew that you shouldn't blame yourself for things like what happened today."

"Why do you think I am?" he asked.

"Well, your face," she said. "It's written all over it. But also, if it was me, I'd feel that way. It wouldn't be rational, but I would anyway. So I'm pretty sure you do as well. Remember, when he was around twenty years ago, there wasn't much the Aurors could do then either. Some were killed, the Longbottoms were captured. In a full-blown fight, it'd be amazing if things like what happened today didn't happen.

"I wanted to tell you that, and more importantly, that you should talk to people. I mean, about what you're going through, the stress you're under. I'm told that you're not the chattiest person about your feelings. But you have Luna, you have Ron and Hermione, and any number of other people you can unburden yourself to, who would be happy to help--"

"Leader Potter, Code yellow," announced his badge, indicating that the call was for him alone. "Outside Gringotts."

"Acknowledged," he replied, and the line went dead. To Tonks, he said in surprise, "There's already been three today."

"Maybe it's something else," she suggested. "C'mon, let's go."

He Disapparated, and appeared within a few meters of Spencer and another Auror whose name he couldn't remember. They were standing near someone else, someone whose presence didn't really register with him. "What's up?" he asked Spencer.

The older man turned to Harry. "It's not confirmed, but I wanted you here in case it pans out. We have a woman who was in Gringotts, was about to leave. She overheard another woman talking to Gringotts officials, who wanted to see her vault. That woman kept her voice low, but our witness is sure she heard her say, 'My name is Bellatrix Lestrange.' She would have been under Polyjuice Potion, and she would have had to tell the goblins that."

Harry nodded. "That would be big, of course. Where's the witness?"

Spencer gestured to the woman standing near him, who Harry only now noticed. "I did a Slide," he explained. "She's a little nervous."

Looking at her for the first time, Harry felt that 'nervous' was an understatement. "You said you wanted me to talk to the Leader," she said anxiously. "Can I do it and get out of here? If they know I did this--"

"Calm down, ma'am," he said. "It'll be okay--"

Her eyebrows went up in indignation. "Ma'am? I'm only twenty-nine. That's a little young to be called ma'am."

Harry was taken aback. "Well, what should I call you?"

"You could call me Linda."

"I didn't know your name was Linda," he pointed out.

"You could have asked."

Harry tried not to express his annoyance at having been sidetracked. "Harry," Spencer said in a low voice, "we don't have all the time in the world. She's in her vault, but could come--"

"Got it. Linda, what did the woman you saw look like?"

"I already told them," she said irritably. "Shoulder-length blond hair, youngish. Maybe my age. Someone you wouldn't call ma'am."

Harry barely managed not to roll his eyes. Bet she's not really twenty-nine, he thought. She really has a thing about this. "What's your job?"

"I work for a small company that harvests and buys wood," she said quickly. "Only the best. For brooms, magical household uses, and so forth. I work in the office, I help the sales staff."

"How do you know who Bellatrix Lestrange is? Not everyone does."

"I have a friend who was a friend of the Longbottom family. He talked about it once." Every answer contained a tone of 'is this the last one? I need to get out of here.'

He was about ready to let her go. "Linda, what's your last name?"

A nervous glance. "Stafford."

Harry's senses registered a lie. He pulled her aside and spoke in a whisper. "Linda, I might need to talk to you again. This is very important. If I have to go to your office to find you, that'll be more you'll have to explain to them. Please tell me."

Eyes wide that he'd known she was lying, she leaned in. "Why do you need to know?"

"Linda, we might be making life-or-death decisions based on this information. Any little detail about what happened here could be important, and I need to be able to find you again in case something needs to be checked." His eyes implored her not to argue further.

She sighed. "Withers," she whispered. "No one but you's to know."

He nodded. "Thank you, Linda, and thank you very much for letting us know this. You can go." Barely a second after he finished speaking, she Disapparated.

Spencer looked at the spot she'd Disapparated from. "Bit skittish."

"That's putting it mildly," agreed Harry. He suddenly had the thought that if somehow something happened to her, he would feel responsible. He remembered what Tonks had said; he knew he shouldn't. But he would anyway.

A minute later, a woman matching the description Withers had given emerged from the hallway that led to the vaults, in the company of a goblin. As had been the case when they'd captured Goyle and the others, Harry saw the appearance fluctuate between that of Lestrange and the form she had taken. It's her, all right, he thought. He remembered all the misery she'd caused Neville. Anger hardened as he recalled how she'd tortured Neville, how she'd enjoyed it.

Harry made sure he and the others were standing where they couldn't be seen from the inside. Looking around, he saw that Spencer and the other Auror had already put up overlapping anti-Disapparation fields; he decided to contribute his own. Can't be too careful, he thought. All of Gringotts was well known to be immune from Apparition, so there was no way she'd get away.

As she walked toward the door, she took out her wand, clearly intending to Disapparate as soon as she exited Gringotts. Harry didn't want to subdue her on Gringotts property... only a few more seconds...

She was out. She tried, and failed, to Disapparate, and went down under multiple Stunners. Normally, she'd be taken to headquarters for interrogation, but Harry had something unconventional in mind.

For the second time that day, Harry Apparated in the Apparition parlor of Malfoy Manor; Kingsley, carrying Lestrange, followed a second later. Having been warned of their arrival, Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, and Blackstone were there to greet them. "Bella!" gasped Narcissa.

Harry walked over to her. "Mrs. Malfoy, this is very important. She could have time-sensitive information, and I need the opinion of your husband and the others. But I'd urgently ask that you leave the room; it would be a distraction for her to see you here. She could know where he is right now. This may be the best chance we get."

She looked at her husband and Blackstone; they both nodded their agreement with Harry's request. With a last look at her sister, she walked upstairs.

Kingsley set Lestrange down in a chair and bound her to it without waking her. Harry spoke to his hosts. "She was identified at Hogwarts by a woman I'm pretty sure isn't connected to Voldemort." He explained the pertinent information as quickly as he could. "He'll be waiting for her, or there'll be a rendezvous point. Is that right?"

Lucius nodded. "If there is a meeting time, he will not wait past the deadline. If he needed money enough to risk sending her to Gringotts--which is surprising, but hardly inconceivable--he will be eager for it. He will be there."

"Would he need it enough to wait past the deadline?" asked his son.

Lucius shook his head. "I would be shocked if he did. All his assistants know that keeping him waiting is unacceptable. If they do not show up, he assumes something beyond their control has occurred."

"Okay," said Harry, wanting to waste no time. "Kingsley, wake her up."

She opened her eyes, needing only a second to take in her surroundings. "Traitors," she spat, looking at Blackstone and the Malfoys with, as he well remembered, eyes behind which madness and torment lay. He wondered what had happened to this woman to cause her to end up like this. "You all will die at the time of the Dark Lord's inevitable victory--"

"And as his most faithful servant you'll have a place of honor at his feet, etcetera etcetera," Harry said briskly and offhandedly. "We don't have time for that. Where is he going to be waiting for you?"

"As if I would tell you, you miserable, Mudblood-loving piece of--"

Harry Silenced her. "Man, that gets tiresome. Okay, I tried. Mr. Malfoy, you know what happened with Goyle. What do you think the chances are that he's put that on her tongue?"

Lucius gave him a level stare. "I do not think it likely, but regardless, you should give her Veritaserum without further hesitation. There is nothing to be lost by trying."

"Well, her tongue," Harry couldn't help but point out.

"A tongue that will not help us in any case," responded Lucius. "Lives are at stake, Leader Potter. You must do what needs to be done." Blackstone nodded his firm agreement.

Harry had been leaning in that direction already, so he waited no further. "Kingsley," he gestured.

The Auror took out the vial of Veritaserum, and using magic to force Lestrange's mouth open, poured the contents onto her tongue. To Harry's mild surprise, there was no obvious result. Lucius was right, he thought.

He un-Silenced her. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What is the time and place of your next scheduled meeting with Voldemort?"

"It is to be no later than 6:30 p.m., at a spot three miles south of Hogsmeade. I know where it is, but cannot describe the place any further without a map. He has been staying in a temporary magical shelter."

Like one of the tents we use, thought Harry. "Why did you go to Gringotts?"

"The Dark Lord ordered me to."

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself for wasting time; the questions had to be precise. "Weren't you or he concerned that by going there, you'd expose yourself to capture?"

"I was not concerned. If he was, I saw no indication."

"Did you deliberately allow yourself to be captured?"

"No."

"Did Voldemort send you on this mission so that we would capture you and you would give us information he wanted us to have?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"In preparing for this mission, did the thought ever occur to you that he sent you out intending that you be captured?"

"Yes."

Harry exchanged looks with the Malfoys. "How likely did you consider this possibility?"

"Highly unlikely."

"Was it a concern, or a passing thought?"

"A passing thought."

Harry looked at his watch; it was 6:13. He immediately realized the dilemma; ironically, he wouldn't have understood it so well if he hadn't had advanced instruction on stationary magic earlier that day.

It was possible to set up a field that would have an adverse effect on anyone who Apparated into its midst. Such fields, examples of which included the anti-Disapparation and Muggle-repelling fields at Hogwarts, normally extended no farther than three hundred meters. But Voldemort was probably the most powerful wizard alive, and it wouldn't be safe to Apparate to within a mile of the given location. The Aurors would have to Apparate to a safe distance first, conduct tests to determine whether a field existed or not, then advance another hundred meters, and repeat. By the time this was done, it would be well past six-thirty. Harry was reasonably sure, but he wanted it confirmed.

"Kingsley, how much time would it take to do this safely?"

"More time than we have."

"Specifically."

"If we did it as quickly as possible, thirty minutes."

"Assemble the Aurors, brief them on the mission. After that's done, come back here for the final word." Kingsley nodded and departed.

Harry turned to Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, if this is a trap, and the Aurors Apparate to within two hundred meters, what's the worst that could happen to them under any field you think he could do?"

"The Dark Lord's magical capabilities must never be underestimated," said Malfoy solemnly. "I would say the worst case would be unconsciousness. But that is the same as death, since he would, having made himself immune to the field, simply Apparate to their location and dispatch them one by one."

"If it's a trap, how long would he personally have to spend setting up the necessary stationary magic?"

Lucius thought for a moment. "At least six hours. Probably more like eight."

"If there's a field extending more than two hundred yards, what are the chances it was a trap?"

This time, Lucius answered immediately. "One hundred percent. He would not cast such a wide field."

"What's the widest field you could imagine him casting?"

Lucius answered as Harry had thought. "One mile in every direction from his location. Even that much would be very unlikely."

Now for the big question, thought Harry. Lucius knows Voldemort better than anyone here. "Do you think this is a trap?"

"No," answered Lucius. "I have never known the Dark Lord to do something like this. It seems very unlike him, and I do not think he would sacrifice Bella so easily."

"Level of confidence."

"Eighty percent." Harry got the impression that Lucius had anticipated the question.

Harry looked to Lucius's right. "Draco. What do you think?"

Draco was clearly uncomfortable. "I think I'm glad I'm not the one who has to make this decision."

"Seriously."

"Seriously, honestly, I can't offer an opinion. I don't know the Dark Lord well enough to judge something like this."

"What's your gut?"

"That it's a trap." Harry saw Lucius look at his son in surprise; Draco shrugged slightly, as if to say, he asked for my gut, not reasons I can defend.

"Mr. Blackstone?"

"I believe it is genuine, but not with a high level of confidence. The amount of time and resources expended versus the highly speculative nature of the effort suggests that it would not be a wise tactical move, and the Dark Lord is an excellent tactician."

"Yes, it is speculative," agreed Harry. "But if he wins, he wins big."

"True. The same could be said for you, of course."

Harry nodded, and something about what Blackstone had said struck a chord, but he wasn't yet sure how or why.

"Leader Potter," said Lucius, "We only have eight minutes. I will volunteer to Apparate to within a hundred and twenty meters of the given location. If it is not a trap, there will be enough time to apprehend him."

"Father!" gasped Draco. "You can't do that!"

"And if it is a trap, you'll die," pointed out Harry. Lucius responded with a stare that said, 'what's your point?' Harry shook his head. "No. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not going to treat your life as any more disposable than the Aurors--"

Kingsley Apparated in, and walked quickly from the Apparition parlor. "They're ready."

"Your opinion?"

"Not a trap. Unknown confidence level." In other words, thought Harry, it's his gut.

"How long do I have before the decision's no longer mine?"

Kingsley looked at his watch. "A minute and a half."

Decision time, thought Harry. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Guess wrong one way, and Aurors--it would have to be at least five, ten to be more sure--lose their lives. Guess wrong the other way, and a chance to catch Voldemort slips through his fingers. He looked down, thinking hard, unconscious of the eyes on him.

The thought occurred to him to go himself, start from a far distance, and rely on his ability to see magic to determine whether it was safe to move forward. He found that never having encountered such a wide magical field, he wasn't confident that this ability extended to all stationary magic. After all, he realized, Hogwarts' magic wasn't visible to him. He couldn't take the chance.

The woman, Linda, had overheard when Lestrange didn't expect her to. Did she just have good hearing? Was Voldemort in Gringotts, casting a spell on the woman to enable her to hear? How likely was that? I can see why most of them think it's genuine; thinking it's a trap almost requires you to be paranoid...

The exchange with Blackstone suddenly hit him. If he wins, he wins big... but the same is true for me. If he wanted to trap me, what's the best bait he could have? Himself. Give me the chance to get him, and I'm under so much pressure... young Auror Leader, impatient, might grab at any chance that looks good... make a decision that gets Aurors killed, they and the people lose confidence in me... worse, I lose confidence in myself...

He wondered if he was being paranoid, then realized there wasn't time to debate it further: the time was up. Right or wrong, he'd made the decision. He turned to Kingsley.

"Take her back, get the location from her. Send out ten Aurors. Have them start from one point two miles out, and work their way in."

Kingsley nodded solemnly, picked up Lestrange, slung her over his shoulder, and headed out.

Draco looked at him sympathetically. "Why?"

Harry shook his head. "It's too good."

"I hope you're right."

"Me, too."

The passing of the seconds, then minutes, was an exquisite torment. Now, if he was wrong, lives would be lost that otherwise wouldn't be. He tried not to second-guess himself. Blackstone spoke. "You must keep in mind, Leader Potter, that whatever the result of this, you have performed well. Some questions have no right answer, some decisions must be made on the basis of nothing more than a flip of a coin. You asked what you needed to ask, you weighed the factors, and made a prudent judgment. If it turns out that you could have had him, you must keep this in mind." Harry nodded, appreciating the man's words. He wondered how much they would comfort him if he was wrong.

Five minutes later--it had felt like much longer--Kingsley Apparated in. Harry stood as Kingsley walked over to give his report.

Kingsley's face didn't betray what he was about to say. "The field started at eight hundred meters." It had been a trap.

Harry exhaled heavily. "Thank you. Have them continue taking down the field until they get to the location. Not that they're likely to find anything, but you never know."

"Okay," said Kingsley, and headed back to the Apparition parlor.

Harry closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Hell of a job this is, he thought. Opening his eyes, he saw the three residents of the home looking at him. "Thank you all for your help," he said.

"Congratulations," said Blackstone.

Harry shook his head. "I was lucky. The coin came up heads."

"That may be, but as I said, you were prudent. I suspect you will find the Aurors highly appreciative."

Harry nodded, and turned to leave. As he walked into the Apparition parlor, Draco entered behind him. Lowering his voice, he said, "Thank you for not taking my father's offer." Again, Harry nodded his acknowledgment, and Disapparated.

* * * * *

Over the next few hours Harry found that Blackstone's prediction had been highly accurate; at least a dozen Aurors either congratulated Harry for not falling into the trap, or expressed their appreciation that he had been careful with their lives. A few told him that in his position, they would have done the riskier thing. One said he would probably have gone deep into the field himself--an idea that Harry had to admit had never occurred to him--and pointed out that the Leader had to be as careful with his own life as he was with others'. This idea had never occurred to Harry either.

As he prepared for the switch--that night's would be about four and a half hours, and the next night, less than four--he thought about the fact that he had made the correct call on a crucial decision, and gained significant respect among the Aurors. Normally, it would be a good day. But he had to not forget that two Aurors had died earlier that day, and that three people were still dying every day. I can't be satisfied until this thing is over.

Two hours later, on the island, having finished telling the Auror trainees the story of the day's events, Harry relaxed in his tent with Luna. They were on the sofa, very close together, arms around each other.

"I tell you, that was so hard," he said, still shaking his head at the memory of how close it had been, how easily he could have made a disastrously wrong decision. "That's by far the hardest decision I've had to make since becoming Auror Leader."

"Even harder than allowing George to leave the island?" she wondered.

"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "But yes, I think so. In that case, at least I had the comfort of knowing that if the timeline vanished, I wouldn't be around to realize what a huge mistake I'd made. But this one... wrong either way, and I'd have to live with it. That's pretty frightening."

She gripped him harder, but said nothing. After a minute of silence, she spoke. "It's hard to know what to say. I feel like I want to comfort you, but I don't know how. All I can tell you is that you're a good man, and I love you."

"That's pretty good right there," he said, with a small smile. "No, I suppose there wouldn't be much you could say. I'm going to have to be making those kind of decisions for many years to come."

"Well, hopefully, the need to make such a big decision will be much less, since it'll usually be the case that there are no terrible Dark wizards out there. You shouldn't even have to be doing this at all."

"Well, since we're here anyway..." he started, jokingly. Only then did he realize that Luna's last sentence could be a self-criticism. He decided to cease any further attempts at humor. "We just have to do the right thing."

"That's what you do," she agreed.

They sat in silence again, taking comfort in the physical contact, the touch of their hands. He leaned over and kissed her, then sat back again. He thought about the future. He had an idea, and decided he should share it quickly, before he lost his nerve.

"Luna... I just realized I hadn't said this before, and I wanted to say that I love you." She smiled, but speaking quickly and nervously, he didn't pause long enough for her to say anything. He continued, "I was thinking that we should... um..." He realized he hadn't thought out the exact words he would use. "That we should... you know..."

She looked at him in the way that only she could, with the expressive eyes and the matter-of-fact tone. "Have sex?"

He smiled nervously at her frank use of the words. "Yes. That."

She smiled as well. "Okay, I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page. I mean, it wouldn't do for me to be expecting to have sex, and then you get out the chess set."

He laughed. "Do you play chess?"

"Sure," she said, to his surprise. "I'm not that good, but I've played it. One problem I always had was that I tended to play defensively, since if a piece was taken, I felt sorry for it. People always said playing against me was boring."

"The last thing you are is boring."

"Thank you, I'm glad to hear that. But I wanted to ask you, about what you said before... why now?"

He became somber again. "Because I was thinking, one of us could die. Probably me, of course. And I wouldn't want to die not having done this with you."

Her eyebrows went up a little. With kindness and humor, she replied, "I don't know what's the usual way to get a woman in the mood for love, but I'm pretty sure that isn't it."

He looked down, then back up at her. "I'm serious."

"I know. I was too, even if it sounded like a joke." She adjusted her position to more easily look directly at him. "Harry, I love you very, very much. The fact that you love me means more to me than anything. And I'm really looking forward to doing this with you. But when we look back on this in the future, I don't want to remember that the reason we did it was that we were afraid we were going to die. Does that make any sense?"

It did, though he didn't want to admit it. "Then when would we do it? There's always going to be that risk, with me."

Earnestly, she replied, "We'll know when the time is right. Trust me. We won't even have to say anything to each other. We'll just know."

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Okay. I think this is the kind of thing you know better than I do."

She moved back to the position she'd been in before, snuggling against him; he put his arm around her shoulders again. "I had an odd dream last night."

"What was it?"

"It felt like I was in a Hogwarts class, but it was a little different. It always is in dreams, as you know."

"Actually, I'm not sure I do. I don't remember my dreams very well."

"Really? You should try to. They can contain interesting information."

He shrugged. "The only ones I remember anything of didn't make any sense at all."

"Well, yes, that's part of the whole thing. You have to interpret them. Anyway, the teacher--it was a woman, someone I've never seen before--was trying to get me to understand something. There were other people in the class, but it seemed like she was talking only to me. One thing I remember she said was, 'what goes up, must come down.'

"Hmmm," said Harry, mildly interested. "Not exactly profound."

"Yes, that's true. But as I said, it could have meanings not readily apparent. Another thing I remember was, 'to everything, there is a season.' And then at one point, I was throwing a boomerang around. I was able to do it well, even though I've never thrown one before."

"Interesting. I'm surprised you'd know the quotation, the second one you mentioned. It's from the Bible."

"What's that?"

Even though he'd lived in the wizarding world for over seven years, it was still strange that someone wouldn't know what the Bible was. "It's a Muggle holy book, the most important one in Muggle culture. That phrase is a popular quotation from that."

"Oh, I see. I must have heard it somewhere before, but I'm not sure where. Did you know that there's a sort of a ban on Muggle holy books at Hogwarts?"

"No, really?"

She nodded. "It's unofficial, but it's there. I did take Muggle Studies. It was very interesting; the professor said she wanted to teach about Muggle religions, but that it was one thing when she joined the school that she was told she couldn't do. Apparently a little over fifty years ago there was a scandal; some of the students started getting a little too interested in some of those books, maybe this Bible you mentioned. The parents got really angry, and it ended up that the Ministry forbade Hogwarts to teach that, or to keep any copies in the library. The professor said that Professor Dumbledore apologized for the fact that she couldn't. She asked if she could teach that it was banned and why, and he said yes, of course. So, she did."

"Wow. Interesting. I never read the Bible. My aunt, I remember, liked to pretend to people she knew that they were a churchgoing family, but they hardly ever went. Maybe a few times a year. My uncle and cousin were always bored to death, but my aunt insisted they had to go for the sake of appearances. I, of course, wasn't required to go. Not being considered a part of the family had its advantages."

She regarded him sorrowfully. "I can't imagine growing up with people who didn't consider me part of their family. I wonder if that's why you weren't so broken up when they died, on the other side."

"It hit me hard," he admitted, "but only in the sense that I felt responsible. I got so caught up in what was happening over there that I totally forgot that I should check on them, that what happened on my side didn't necessarily happen on their side. So they died when it was avoidable, and of course, in the most gruesome way possible. I still feel bad about that. But I'd be lying if I said that I'd miss them. Wonder if Voldemort would've bothered if he'd known that. He probably thought he was dealing me this huge emotional blow."

She held his hand, saying nothing. After a minute, he asked, "So, what do you think happens when we die?"

She shrugged. "Probably the same as everyone else."

"I don't know what that is. I haven't really talked to people about it."

"Well, of course, we know we go someplace. That's pretty well established, from what we know from ghosts. We continue to survive in some form. The ghosts talk about a decision point, and some of them have said they caught a glimpse of what lies beyond. It sounds like what Muggles call heaven. Most people believe we go on to do something else, but not everyone agrees what. Why did you ask?"

"I guess, because I had my own experience, and the conversation made me think of it. What happened made me not afraid of dying anymore."

"You're Harry Potter," she said teasingly. "I didn't think you were afraid of anything."

He smiled, but it quickly changed to a rueful expression. "Now that I have you, I'm definitely afraid of losing you."

She patted his hand. "It won't happen. I should worry about it more, with your job. But all we can do is live one day at a time."

"Did anyone say that in your dream?"

She grinned. "I don't remember, if they did. But, who knows."

* * * * *

The next day seemed to pass slowly, with a feeling of foreboding, and it wasn't until mid-afternoon that Harry had the thought that it was because no one had died yet; usually, Voldemort had at least one of his killings done before 1 p.m. Time slowly passed; nothing happened, or at least nothing important. He got a briefing from Kingsley about what information about Bellatrix Lestrange's capture would be provided to the Prophet. Draco Malfoy asked him for a way to contact Kingsley if there was an emergency and Harry was on the other side at the time. There was a brief ceremony for the two Aurors who had died the day before; though many spoke, Harry didn't, as he had barely known them. He felt bad that there was nothing he was able to say.

The switch would happen at about a quarter after eight in the evening. Harry found himself hoping that if killings did happen, they would happen before then, as it would be considered peculiar that there was an emergency and he was unavailable. He barely allowed himself to hope that the killings would simply not happen, period.

He thought about having dinner, then decided to eat on the island. The food might be simpler and less varied than that served by the Aurors' house-elves, but he found he liked it. Still nothing happened, and as the time approached, he returned to Grimmauld Place and lay down on the bed.

He ate at the table almost alone; most people had eaten on the other side, as dinnertime was usually between six and seven. Luna, who had already eaten, sat with him to keep him company. In the twilight, he looked out onto the field to see most of the trainees practicing magic together; it was interesting, he thought, that now the time on the island was so brief that most used it as the main chance to get together. Of course, they could on the other side, but security was a big issue, and training in such a big group would be conspicuous. Harry considered the possibility of opening up to them some of the training facilities of the Park. The Aurors might not like it, but he was after all the Auror Leader. If he deemed it desirable, they should accept it. He reminded himself to mention it to the other Kingsley.

To his Kingsley, he talked about how their counterparts were doing with the fact that they were spending most of their time on this side, isolated on an island, away from their lives. Kingsley said they were adapting surprisingly well, and many had taken up training voluntarily; partly out of an interest in becoming Aurors, and partly because, as George's counterpart had put it, there was little else to do. The other Ron and Hermione had made little secret of their unhappiness that nothing was being done for their Harry, and some others of their group had voiced agreement. Harry sympathized, but could still think of nothing to do. Going to Australia wasn't an option. He then remembered that Luna had dreamed of a boomerang; could that be a sign that they should go to Australia? Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought as absurd. This is probably why I don't remember my dreams, he thought wryly. As some Muggle once said, that way lies madness.

In his tent at a quarter to midnight, Harry lay down, looked up at the ceiling of the tent, and waited. I should put something up there to look at, he thought, I spend so much time lying here waiting for the switches. As his mind drifted to related thoughts, he suddenly heard a cheer come from outside; it had to be the sounds of at least five or six people. Wonder what that's all about, he thought, but he knew he shouldn't get up. He would find out at the next switch.

He was suddenly in his bed at Grimmauld Place, looking over to see Draco Malfoy sitting near his bed. He raised his eyebrows. "Malfoy?"

"There you are. I didn't wake you, did I? I didn't assume you'd be sleeping after the switch, even though it is late."

"No, not for a while," said Harry, sitting up. "What's going on?"

"Just something I wanted to talk to you about, and I happened to be up. How's the island, by the way?"

Harry shrugged; it was an odd question for Malfoy to ask. "Pretty nice; it never really changes. A little warmer, since it's in the Southern Hemisphere, so it's in the middle of summer there--"

A loud beeping sound came from the badge on his chest; he instantly wondered whether it had sounded before, and he hadn't been able to respond. "Leader Potter, Code red. Diagon Alley, in front of Quality Quidditch."

Was Voldemort trying to get in his kills before midnight? He shot up to a standing position and Disapparated.

He appeared in front of the shop, and looked at it for a second; it appeared to be closed, with nothing going on. "Harry, here," said Kingsley. Malfoy Apparated in as Harry turned around.

To his great surprise, he saw a three-foot-tall metallic object, with a wide, round base, which curved vertically to become a two-inch-wide pole. There was a circular hole near the top, into which a small metal bar had been inserted. "We've analyzed it, it's a Portkey," said Kingsley. "One with a personal signature. You can make a Portkey that can recognize only one person, but you need a bit of the person to do it."

It didn't take Harry long to figure out where this had come from. "Voldemort? Why would he--"

As soon as Harry spoke, a high-pitched and very loud whistling sound, in three staccato bursts, was emitted from the stand. A foot above the stand, a miniature version of the Dark Mark suddenly appeared.

"Leader Potter," came Voldemort's voice, with a sneer when speaking the word 'Leader'. "We must meet to finish this matter, once and for all. You and only you will take the Portkey. Do bring your wand, of course. It would hardly be fair otherwise. If you need a further reason to come..."

In the air in front of the device, there was suddenly an image, about two feet wide. It showed Ron and Hermione in chairs, arms tied behind their backs... and Ron screaming hideously and writhing, no doubt under the Cruciatus Curse. Harry wondered if it could be a deceptive image, but then realized that they were wearing the same clothes he'd seen them wearing earlier. The Curse went off Ron, who slumped in his chair; now, Hermione was screaming in agony. The image disappeared after a few more seconds. Harry knew beyond any doubt that he'd be going, whatever the cost or consequences.

"A bell will sound at the end of this recording. If you come, they will not be killed. If you have not come within fifteen seconds after the bell sounds, the Portkey will deactivate, and they will be killed." There was a loud sound which did in fact sound very much like a large bell. The number '15' appeared in midair, changing quickly to '14', and counting down.

Harry turned to Malfoy. "Find Luna, tell her not to try to come, that it's the Aurors' job to find me and get me."

"You shouldn't go," Malfoy urged him.

Harry grunted. "Yeah, right."

Kingsley spoke. "TT is on."

"Don't come in close," Harry instructed him. "Check for fields." Kingsley opened his mouth to object, but Harry had grabbed the Portkey and vanished as the number '2' appeared.

Malfoy turned to Kingsley before the Auror could Disapparate. "You're not going to do what he said, are you?"

Kingsley gave Malfoy a wry glance. "It'll be a matter of interpretation," he said, and Disapparated.

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 19, Repentance: In a showdown with Voldemort, Harry faces a trial similar to the Auror Leader test-but this time, for real.

From Chapter 19: "Now, Potter, you will take a vow of allegiance to me. An Unbreakable Vow, I should specify."

Harry chuckled darkly. "I don't think so." The situation was grim, but he knew he couldn't do it, no matter what.