Rating:
PG
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Ginny Weasley Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Severus Snape
Genres:
Action
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 11/19/2004
Updated: 12/24/2004
Words: 447,573
Chapters: 24
Hits: 89,177

Harry Potter and the Ring of Reduction

semprini

Story Summary:
As Harry starts his seventh year at Hogwarts, he becomes more directly involved in the fight against Voldemort than ever before. Seeing death far more often than any seventeen-year-old should have to, Harry struggles with the costs of leading the fight: seeing those closest to him suffer for following where he leads, the necessity of making moral compromises, the burden of knowing that a lapse in judgment could have devastating consequences... and the fact that his pursuit of the "nice, boring life" he so desperately wants but has never had must always be secondary to his pursuit of Voldemort. Blaming himself after a mistake lets Voldemort slip through his fingers, will Harry take one step too far in his attempt to fulfill the prophecy?

Chapter 04

Chapter Summary:
Having suffered two traumatic events in less than twelve hours, Hermione and Neville struggle to cope; already busy helping Aurors try to prevent Death Eaters from Apparating freely, Harry must also worry about the prospect of every secret in his life becoming public.
Posted:
11/26/2004
Hits:
3,597


Chapter 4

Return to Privet Drive


Heading toward the Apparation detection room, Harry was intercepted by Ron in the standby area. Looking apprehensive, Ron said, "Harry, could you-"


"You want to be checked," Harry confirmed as Ron nodded. "Okay, I'll get Kingsley, just a minute."


A look at the clock showed two minutes to midnight. Harry found Kingsley. "Do you have a minute?"


"Right now, just a minute. What is it?"


"I'm not going to do this every night, but I was working with Ron today on this, and we think it's possible that he has it. We'd like to check him."


Kingsley sighed in annoyance. "All right, but tonight during your standby time, I'm teaching you the testing spell, you can check him from now on." They walked into the standby room.


Kingsley cast the spell on himself as they walked. They found Ron, and with no preliminary chat, Kingsley said to Ron simply, "Hit me." Ron fired, and a gold 100 appeared. Ron smiled and clenched a fist in triumph. Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "Well done. Okay, Ron, you know the drill. Noon tomorrow. I'm too busy right now, I'll check you for the actual spell then." He walked back to the detection room.


Smiling, Harry walked to Ron and put an arm around his shoulders. "Congratulations. I'm really happy for you." He leaned closer to Ron and whispered, "I'd give you a kiss, but you know, all these people..."


Ron laughed. "Right now, I'm so happy, I wouldn't care. Thank you, Harry, for everything."


"Happy to do it." Harry clasped Ron's shoulder, then walked to the detection room. He met Pansy, who was getting ready to leave. "How was the shift?"


"Kind of boring, really. No Apparations, just looked at maps." Noting his smile, she asked. "What are you so happy about?"


"Ron'll tell you."


She broke into a wide smile. "Oh, he did it! That's so great! Thank you for helping him, Harry." She hurried out to meet Ron.


Harry was on ready status for the first part of his shift; he tried to focus, to be ready to Disapparate at a moment's notice, but he kept drifting back to Ron's having achieved the use of the energy of love. Now that he had successfully taught all five of his friends, the question of whether, how, and under what circumstances to teach Hogwarts students loomed larger. He knew he had to decide soon, because consultations with parents, and perhaps scheduling considerations, had to be taken into account. He imagined what Snape's reaction would be if he were told that he had to re-do the schedule.


He eventually was able to focus better on the map displays. Thirty-five minutes later, for the first time in over a day, there was an Apparation. Harry quickly looked at the maps, and Disapparated. The first thing he saw was Dawlish, already there, with his wand out. Harry thought he saw something flying away from a hooded figure, but he couldn't see it well. Reflexively, Harry put down an anti-Disapparation field as Aurors fired on the figure, who went down under a barrage of Stunning spells. 'Yes!' exulted Harry mentally as Aurors rushed to the man, having already wrapped him in ropes. A few Aurors congratulated Dawlish, whose reaction was a grunt. "Let's get him back, and get out of here," said Dawlish.


Harry Apparated back in time to see that, as usual, the standby team had moved into the detection room as soon as the Apparation had happened, ready to rush off to assist. Harry exchanged a smile of triumph with Ginny as Kingsley announced, "We got one. Hubert was out there in zero point nine seconds, the first one to break one second." Harry saw the Aurors make impressed sounds and expressions; Harry knew himself how hard it was to even get close to one second.


Dawlish shrugged. "He was too slow Summoning the Portkey. Well, now's a good time for my nap." He walked off. Harry asked other Aurors about what had happened, and was told that they suspected that one factor assisting the capture was that the Death Eater had chosen too small an object as the Portkey. If it was so small that it couldn't be seen easily, and the Death Eater didn't remember exactly where it had been placed, the slight delay that could cause might be enough to allow the capture. Harry assumed that when Dawlish had arrived the Portkey had already been Summoned by the Death Eater; to interrupt it, the Auror had to redirect it away before it could be caught by the Death Eater, and he had to be stronger than the Death Eater.


The rest of Harry's first three hours was uneventful, and at three o'clock he walked to the standby area, briefly clasping hands with Ginny as they passed. He looked for Kingsley, who spent fifteen minutes teaching him the spell which detected how much of one's potential one was using when doing spells silently. Kingsley then did a test, which showed the usual 100.


"Thanks, Kingsley," said Harry. "I would have had to learn this anyway, since I'm teaching the N.E.W.T. classes this year. Not to mention for any classes where I might try to teach the energy of love. Which I still don't know if I'm going to do or not."


"That reminds me, Harry... has McGonagall, or Dumbledore, talked to you about your future recently?"


Harry nodded. "Yeah, they want me to stay, maybe be headmaster someday. They both told me."


Kingsley looked at him carefully. "It seems the idea doesn't thrill you."


"It's an honor, of course, but... this is what I want to do. I mean, I do understand their point. I'll probably be able to teach the energy of love better than anyone else. But that doesn't change the fact that I'd rather do this."


"I know, Harry. And we're happy that this is what you want. The truth is, when Dumbledore first talked to me about this, I started getting a bit hot under the collar. We thought we had you for sure; I felt like the rug was being yanked out from under me. But he made sense, in that damnable way he had... or at least, it was damnable if you didn't like what he was saying. Not only is it true that you'll be able to teach it best, but he was also right when he said that your stature would matter there more than here. Kids will go to Hogwarts to be taught by Harry Potter, who repeatedly defied Voldemort, and discovered this extremely useful new type of magic. Winston's told me that his daughter's told him how you're regarded by the students. I can see why that would be very valuable for Hogwarts, and for the students.


"If you end up with us, we'll be very pleased. But I want to make sure you know that if you don't, we'll understand why, and we won't hold it against you." He paused, then added, deadpan, "We'll hold it against Dumbledore." Kingsley then smiled, and so did Harry. "I'm glad he's not totally gone, I feel like I can make jokes like that. Anyway... you could still sort of be with us part-time, like in the summers, and for special situations like this. That would be when we could use you most, anyway. We had that kind of relationship with Dumbledore. I know you don't have to make a decision anytime soon, but I wanted to let you know where we stood on this. You must think about it sometimes; I know it's a big decision."


"These days, I try not to, and with stuff like this going on, it's pretty easy not to," replied Harry. "But I understand, and I appreciate what you said. I'm glad to know that I can at least be with you in some way, whatever I choose.


"By the way, I was wondering... when Dawlish caught that one, it was well into my shift, but he's usually on the other shift. Is he changing shifts?"


Kingsley shrugged. "Not really. He's just... drifting a bit. I gave you and Neville lectures about pacing yourselves, and we do make sure that most Aurors do twelve hours and no more. But Dawlish and I are the senior Aurors, and as such we can disregard the guidelines we give to others. We've both been doing more than twelve hours here and there. He told me he felt more 'in the zone' today, and it sure looks like he was right. He'll probably sleep for six hours and come right back if he still feels in the zone. It's almost like being an athlete, in a way. Most of us here are performing at a very high level-including you, your one point four, one point five is very impressive for an Auror, never mind an inexperienced one-and it's really hard to do better once you've done the best you can. Where you are mentally is the key, which is why it's so stressful to be at the ready for so long. A tenth of a second can be the difference between catching someone and not catching them, as you just saw. Dawlish is the best we have, so if he wants to do more and thinks he can pace himself, I'm not going to quibble with him."


"Just curious," Harry assured Kingsley, not wanting him to think that he was making judgments about how the Aurors did things. "Well, I'm going to get started on my drills." He got up.


"Oh, and Harry... happy birthday," said Kingsley, with the barest smile.


"Wow, I forgot all about that," said Harry. "Thanks. Funny, my birthday's never been such a happy occasion for me, since I was always stuck with my Muggle relatives at the time. Probably everyone would be making a big fuss about it if this wasn't going on. I'm just happy do be doing something useful." Harry walked off and started his response-time drills.


There were no Apparations during Ginny's three hours on ready status, and Harry went back into the main room at six o'clock. He remembered what Kingsley had said about the mental aspect of this being the most important, and he started to wonder if there was some way he could improve his performance in that area. He kept focused on the wall as he thought; he thought of himself as a sprinter waiting for the gun to sound so he could leap out of the starting blocks.


At five minutes after seven the red lights on the wall lit up, and maps were instantly displayed. Harry had known before that specific addresses could be displayed as well, but often were not, since the Death Eaters mostly chose relatively abandoned areas that didn't have street addresses; usually the only text on the wall was the name of the city, and perhaps the neighborhood. But now, something extremely familiar was displayed: the text read, Surrey, Little Whinging, 4 Privet Drive, Living Room. Seeing this, Harry reacted instantaneously; he suddenly found himself in the Dursleys' living room.


Harry was in the center of the living room. He could see the three Dursleys at the kitchen table, and there was a hooded figure between Harry and them. The first thing he heard after he Apparated was the word "Kedavra!" spoken by the hooded figure, and he saw the green bolt flying at Dudley. Again acting by pure reflex, Harry performed three spells in quick succession, in less than a second. First, without his conscious thought, he put up a Killing Curse shield around Dudley. Harry then deployed an anti-Disapparation field as the hooded figure whirled in surprise to look at the source of the shield. To Harry's shock, the hooded figure was Draco Malfoy. As Aurors started Apparating in, Harry shot off a Stunning spell at Malfoy, who was now trying to Disapparate. The spell hit Malfoy, who was lifted off his feet and thrown back two yards, his back slamming into the solid oak kitchen table. He fell to the ground in obvious pain.


Petunia and Vernon were speechless, in shock at what had happened, and the suddenness of it. Dudley's expression turned from shock to outrage as he got to his feet and stood over Malfoy. He looked at Harry. "That was a Killing Curse, wasn't it?" he asked Harry, almost accusingly, though Harry knew Dudley's anger was directed at Malfoy. Harry nodded. Furious, Dudley looked at the prone Malfoy and suddenly kicked his head. Stunned, Harry didn't move as two Aurors leaped forward; Dudley got in one more very solid-sounding kick before being restrained by Aurors as Malfoy howled in pain. Harry suddenly felt pleased at what Dudley had done; he knew the feeling was unworthy, but couldn't help feeling it.


Two more Aurors pulled Malfoy to his feet, Malfoy bleeding from one cut on his cheek and from his mouth. Harry walked forward, stopping right in front of Malfoy. Seeing Malfoy's expression of rage and pain, Harry had a sudden idea. Already holding his wand, Harry silently cast Legilimens. He found his way into Malfoy's mind very quickly, and looked not for feelings, but for memories having to do with his mission. He saw an image of Voldemort talking to Malfoy, then Malfoy talking to his father, followed by an image of Malfoy in a deserted area setting up a Portkey and activating it.


Malfoy's eyes widened in alarm as he realized what Harry was doing. He started to say something, but Harry cut him off, speaking first. Turning to the Aurors, his tone conveying his surprise, Harry said, "This wasn't authorized! This isn't what he was supposed to do!" Malfoy's expression was one of anger and increasing panic.


Kingsley walked up to Harry. "What's he doing here, then? I mean, it's not like Death Eaters run around disobeying orders."


"No, they don't," agreed Harry, who found himself smiling at Malfoy. "He thought he could get away with it, though. He was supposed to go straight to the Portkey, like usual. What he decided to do was come here, kill Dudley, and go from here to the Portkey." Now staring in satisfaction at Malfoy, he continued, "It never occurred to him that because I used to live here, I'd be able to get here way faster than he thought anyone would. He was going to not even tell the Death Eaters what he'd done! He was going to just pretend it was a routine, successful mission. Voldemort would've known anyway, of course, but Malfoy here's so full of himself he didn't understand that."


Harry moved closer to Malfoy, his face a foot away from Malfoy's. Malfoy's expression vacillated between anger and fear; Harry's was hard, pitiless. "Too bad we can't just send him back," said Harry, never breaking eye contact with Malfoy. "Voldemort doesn't like failure, Malfoy, and he likes his orders disobeyed even less. If you ever manage to get back to him, what he'll do to you will make what Neville went through look like a stubbed toe by comparison." Malfoy flinched in fear just a little, despite obviously trying hard not to react to what Harry said.


"All right," said Kingsley, looking slightly bewildered, "everybody head on back, get him out of here. Harry and I will be along, we just need to talk to Harry's relatives."


As the Aurors started to move Malfoy away, Harry remembered something else. "Oh, Kingsley," he said, wanting to say it while Malfoy was still around, "one thing Malfoy was also kind enough to recall was that the magic number is three." Again with satisfaction, Harry saw Malfoy wearing a definitely panicked expression. "If three of them in a row get caught, Voldemort will give up, and we win. At least, that's what Malfoy's been told."


Kingsley frowned in puzzlement. "That doesn't sound like the kind of thing they'd tell someone like him."


"'They' didn't," Harry explained. "Voldemort told his father, and his father told him. Good to know they have security problems."


"Yes, I'd say so," agreed Kingsley as Aurors started Disapparating, one escorting Malfoy. Harry and Kingsley turned to the Dursleys. Petunia and Vernon were still in mild shock, but Dudley's expression was close to normal. Harry glanced at the table, which he noticed was different from the one they'd had when he was last there.


"Nice table," remarked Harry. "When'd you get it?"


"Christmas," replied Dudley. "Yeah, it is. Very solid."


"Yes, that came in handy," said Harry. "You know, the Weasleys have one like this, except it cleans and puts away-"


"Harry," chided Kingsley, "you'll have to catch up some other time. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I'm sorry that we couldn't have prevented this from happening. Fortunately, no harm was done-"


"No harm?" repeated a suddenly outraged Vernon. "Our breakfast is interrupted by a wand-wielding maniac who almost kills our son, who you are supposed to be protecting, and you say no harm was done?"


"He meant that no one was hurt or killed," said Harry helpfully. Vernon gave Harry the same dirty look Harry had seen many times before, especially on the occasions when he had mouthed off to Vernon.


"And they did protect me," pointed out Dudley. "I am still alive."


"Just barely!" shrieked Petunia, still shaken. "He was just suddenly... there, and doing that curse! Dudley was a half of a second away from death! Can't you do anything about that?"


Harry had a sudden thought. "Couldn't I put an anti-Disapparation plot around the house, like the one at the Weasleys'?"


"Yes, that would be the only real solution," agreed Kingsley. "If you like, we'll do that." To their blank expressions, Kingsley explained, "It's a spell that can be done to a specific area of land. When it's finished, no one can enter or leave the area the way Malfoy just did, the way we did."


"That sounds all right," said Petunia. "Then, do that now, please."


"I'm sorry, we can't do it right now," said Kingsley. "First of all, it takes a few hours, and secondly, Harry is extremely busy right now, working with us in a crisis situation. Thirdly, he'll have to be protected while he does it, which is a use of manpower we can't afford. He can do it after the crisis is over."


"Why does he have to do it?" asked Vernon. "Couldn't any of you do it? Someone who wasn't so busy and wouldn't have to be protected?"


"Any of us could do it," agreed Kingsley, "but the stronger the wizard, the more effective the plot will be. In terms of raw power, Harry is the strongest wizard we have."


Petunia and Vernon's eyebrows went high. "He's only seventeen! How did that happen?" asked Petunia.


"Oh, I know! It's that energy-of-love thing, right?" asked Dudley, who snickered immediately after he said it.


Harry looked at Dudley, amused. "Real mature, Dudley."


"Well, you have to admit, it sounds kind of stupid," replied Dudley.


"I can see why you would say that," admitted Harry, "but it may seem less stupid if you consider that without it, you'd be dead right now." Dudley made a 'hadn't thought of that' expression. "Anyway, I'd be happy to do it as soon as I can, but Kingsley's right, it can't be until the crisis is over." Harry gave a brief summary of what was happening, finishing with, "If we get lucky the next time this happens, it could be over in a few days. But we just can't say."


"That is unacceptable!" shouted Petunia. "This could happen again any time!"


"It's not going to happen, Aunt Petunia," said Harry before Kingsley could comment. To her doubtful expression, he continued, "All right, I can't say it's absolutely impossible, but really, it's not going to happen. Malfoy's the only one of them who gave a damn about Dudley, and we have him now. The other ones don't even know he did this, so they're not going to come here to finish it. Also, Voldemort didn't authorize it, and most Death Eaters aren't so stupid as to disobey his orders. It's just not going to happen."


"You didn't think this would happen, either, obviously," argued Petunia.


"Mrs. Dursley," said Kingsley patiently, "as you heard Harry explain, the nature of the crisis is such that we are monitoring all Apparation very closely. In the extremely unlikely event that someone did this again, we would respond very quickly."



"Quickly enough to save Dudley?" asked Petunia suspiciously. Gesturing to Harry, she said, "He was faster than the rest of you. He was here first, he was the only one who got here in time. And I thought he was the only one who could do those spells. What if it happened while he was asleep?" Harry now realized that Petunia had definitely read the articles she had been sent for the past year.


"My friends can do them too," Harry said. "They're helping with the crisis as well. As for my getting here fast, as you heard me say to Malfoy, it's because I lived here. I don't need to figure out where it is. The others who know the spell couldn't have got here this fast. Now, what we could do is, and it wouldn't take long... I could bring them over here, show them through the house... if they've been here, in every room, then they could get here as fast as I could."


"I'm not going to have a bunch of these... people running around in my home!" shouted Petunia indignantly.


"Well, that's the only way to make sure Dudley's completely safe from this kind of... oh, wait, there is another way. He could stay at the Burrow until the crisis is over. There's an extra bed, I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind."


Dudley's eyes lit up, but Petunia stared daggers at Harry. "Are you trying to be funny?"


"No, he's right," said Kingsley thoughtfully. "He'd be totally safe there, and Molly's very nice, and a good parent, it would be all right with them, I'm sure."


Petunia continued to stare at Harry. "This isn't funny."


"What's the problem?" asked Kingsley.


"To say they don't like magic and wizards is a major understatement," explained Harry to Kingsley. "She doesn't want Dudley in a magical environment."


Petunia and Vernon looked somewhat abashed at this having been said right in front of them. Good, Harry thought. "Oh," said Kingsley. "Then why did you suggest him staying there, if you knew that?"


"To point out to Aunt Petunia that there are worse things than having a few wizards 'running around' in her home," he said, staring at Petunia.


She gave him a particularly nasty look before sighing in surrender. "When do they need to come, and how soon can it be done?"


Harry looked at Kingsley. "Today, shift change? I can get Ron and Pansy to come in fifteen minutes early, give them the tour, let them do a few test Apparations, make sure their times are okay, then do the same with Ginny after they're done."


"Yes, that sounds fine," agreed Kingsley. To the Dursleys, he said, "We'll need to be here from eleven forty-five to twelve-thirty."


"I'll be out doing errands," sniffed Petunia. "Dudley, you can come with me."


"Nah, I'll stay here. Make sure they don't break anything." Harry and Dudley exchanged a glance, both knowing that Dudley was joking.


"They'd better not," grumbled Petunia.


"We'll be very careful not to disturb anything, Mrs. Dursley," Kingsley assured her. "We'll leave now, and you can get on with your breakfast. Ready, Harry?"


Harry nodded and prepared to Disapparate. Dudley said, "Oh, Harry... happy birthday."


Harry grinned. "Thanks," he said, then waved goodbye and Disapparated.



Delighted, Ginny walked up to Harry and grabbed his shoulders. "You got Malfoy! That's so great!"


"Yeah, it is," agreed Harry. "I can't wait to tell Pansy."


Kingsley took a few steps over, standing next to Harry. "It is great, Ginny, but while you're on ready status-"


"Looking at the wall, being ready," acknowledged Ginny, turning to look at the maps. "Sorry."


"It's understandable," said Kingsley. "Would you stay out here a few more minutes? I need to talk to Harry."


Ginny agreed, and Harry and Kingsley walked out to the standby room and sat down; Kingsley chose a spot where they couldn't easily be overheard. "First of all, congratulations. That was a tremendous performance. I checked, and you got out there in zero point five seconds."


"Yeah, but that was only because I knew the place."


"No, that's a very good time even if you know where you're going, and especially considering you didn't expect to be going anywhere you knew. You have really good reflexes. Also, the speed with which you acted once you got out there was excellent. I got there fast enough to see that you were one step ahead of Malfoy all the way."


Harry shrugged. "He's not that great a wizard."


"By which I assume you mean, he's not as good as you," Kingsley noted wryly. "Now, there is something else... not a big problem, but something I want to make sure you're aware of-"


Harry nodded, figuring Kingsley would bring it up. "I enjoyed myself a bit too much."


"Yes, but I see you're aware of it, that's good. I don't blame you, Harry. I know your history with him. Most of us don't have a bete noire." Seeing Harry's puzzled expression, Kingsley explained, "It means, like a personal enemy."


Harry chuckled mildly. "This is part of being Harry Potter. Most people don't have one; I have two."


"That's true. One for your childhood, one as an adult... and since you're right on the bridge between the two, you deal with both of them these days. Anyway, it's entirely possible that full-fledged Aurors in your situation would have acted the same way. It would be hard not to make it personal when someone's tried several times to kill you, tortured your partner and a good friend, and so on. Hell, I might have done the same thing. I just wanted to be sure you knew that it wasn't exactly by-the-book Auror behavior in that kind of situation. But it seems like you understand that."


"Yes, I do. Even at the time, I understood that I really shouldn't have been like that. But it was such a good opportunity, I couldn't resist, especially since it was me personally that got him. That reminds me, I wondered after I did it, did I break any laws by pulling the information out of him like that?"


"Technically, yes," answered Kingsley, "but Aurors are allowed a great deal of leeway in that kind of situation, and you're functioning as an Auror right now, so there'd be no consequences. I was going to bring that up, but for another reason. Most Legilimens don't let it be known that they are. Are you planning to let everybody know, or did you do that only because there were just Aurors, and you know they won't let it get around?"


"I hadn't thought about it, really. I think the main reason I said it the way I did was because of Malfoy. I-"


"You were gloating," observed Kingsley, not unkindly.


"I guess so," Harry admitted. "He knew I had pulled it out anyway, of course, the other person sees the memory as you do. I just wanted him to see... yes, I suppose 'gloating' is a pretty good word for it. I could have told you all that stuff back at headquarters later, I didn't have to tell you then." Harry was starting to feel a bit embarrassed.


"Yes, which is another point. Again, Harry, this is not to give you a hard time, but to make sure you know certain things. Aurors can be trusted, but in that kind of situation it's proper procedure to give information like that to the senior Auror privately as soon as possible, unless it's time-sensitive. It's then for the senior Auror to decide what's to be shared and what's not."


"I understand," said Harry quietly, hoping that Kingsley would find no more breaches of proper Auror behavior to point out to him.


Apparently, Kingsley did not. "What's the problem with your aunt and uncle, anyway? They were strange, even given what had happened to them. Are they like that just because they don't like magic?"


"Yes. That was good behavior, for them. They were only that polite because they were talking to the people who were hopefully going to keep Dudley safe; they're afraid that if they totally alienate the Aurors, we won't protect Dudley. Normally, they would have had a long, screaming fit over what happened, blaming you, me, the magical world, and so on."


Kingsley shook his head. "That was the other strange thing... you saved their son's life, you'd think they could manage to say 'thank you.'"


"Nope. The way they see it, I, or my presence, is the only reason Dudley's in any danger in the first place. So even if I save his life, it's a wash, because I was responsible for his danger."


Kingsley was incredulous. "You must be kidding."


"'Fraid not."


"Quite a life you've had. Oh, one other thing. When you were talking about showing the Dursleys' house to the others, you didn't mention Hermione. Do you know something that I don't?"


"No, not exactly, but I just assumed she wouldn't be back yet. Now that we have Ron and Pansy for the noon-to-midnight shift, and she suffered a lot in the past two days, I thought she might need a few days off."


"Yes, I was thinking that too," said Kingsley. "I just wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything I didn't know. Okay, well, let's get back to it."


As Neville had been, Harry was treated to cake and birthday wishes during his last standby shift. He also got many congratulations for his capture of Malfoy, and his protestations that it wasn't that much since he knew the house were met with good-natured scoffing. He was pleased at the compliments, but what meant more was the thought that if they caught the next one, it would be over.


He thought about what he could do to improve his time; it was difficult to think of anything. He knew he had excellent reflexes, and his relatively good times were mostly due to that, but he just hadn't been looking at maps long enough to know them well enough to improve his times. Dawlish, by comparison, had excellent reflexes and near-total recall, Harry had been told, and so barely needed to look at the first two maps at all.


Harry wondered if there was some way he could 'cheat,' as he put it in his mind. He remembered the first time he had Apparated by looking at maps; he had not known exactly where Cassandra was, but he had ended up mere inches from her, having intended simply to end up as close to her as possible. Had that been chance, or could it be duplicated? If so, how?


He considered the idea of giving quicker looks to the first two maps, and maybe just an extremely short glance at the third, hoping that intuition, or whatever had guided him so close to Cassandra, would put him where he wanted to go. He knew it was a risk, though: if he was wrong, he could end up far outside the target area, maybe too far to see or help others under attack. He reminded himself that his was technically a support role; he was expected to protect the ones who went out, not necessarily do any capturing himself. But on the other hand, the next attempt would be very important; if it was successful, the Apparation crisis would probably be over. Harry debated what to do. He wouldn't have to decide until the next day, he realized, as Ginny was on ready status for the last three hours of their shift.


At ten minutes after eleven she called him on her hand; she needed to go to the bathroom, and the one on standby always filled in for that time, even though it was only a few minutes. He took her place as she headed off. Three minutes later, out of the corner of his eye he saw her heading back. As he thought about returning to the standby area, the alarms went off and the walls lit up. Harry made an instant decision to use the riskier method, knowing that if he missed the mark substantially it would not be disastrous, since Ginny would follow in a few seconds. He took glances at the first two maps, barely looked at the third one at all, and Disapparated, trusting his instincts, or fate, to take him where he wanted to go.


He appeared in a field containing mostly weeds, but the first thing he noticed was something hitting his head. Knocked off balance, he tried to right himself as he noticed a soccer ball rising in the air above him; he realized that was what had hit him. He heard multiple Apparation sounds, and then from behind him, what sounded like someone hitting the ground. Recovering his balance, he turned to see the hooded Death Eater sprawled unconscious, as the ball fell to the ground a few feet away.


Dawlish and a few other Aurors approached Harry as he looked around, slightly befuddled. "Looks like you got him, but I didn't see how it happened," admitted Harry.


"I think you mean, 'we' got him," replied Dawlish, amused at Harry's confusion. "Let's go back, and we'll see if I can explain it to you." He Disapparated, and as he saw two Aurors pick up the fallen Death Eater, Harry followed.


Harry appeared in the detection room as the Aurors were returning. He saw Dawlish nod at Kingsley, who smiled and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have our third consecutive capture!" Harry heard cheers and sounds of triumph, and he smiled as Ginny put an arm around his waist.


"And the times," Kingsley continued, "when I saw these times, I had a feeling we had a capture. Hubert Dawlish reached the scene in zero point nine seconds... and Harry Potter reached the scene in zero point eight seconds." There was a gasp, and Ginny gaped at him; Harry suddenly felt very self-conscious.


Dawlish now addressed the room. "That's not even the strange thing," he said. "The strange thing is where he ended up. The Death Eater had Summoned the Portkey, which was a soccer ball; when I got there, it had just hit Harry on the head. Somehow. he Apparated right in the path of the ball. I would've been there just in time to miss a capture, but as it was, we were able to Stun him. If Harry hadn't landed on that exact spot, the Death Eater would have made it. So, Harry, I think I'm not the only one curious to know how you did that."


"I'm kind of curious myself," he said. "I did do something different; I decided to look at maps less and trust... intuition, instinct, fate, I don't know... more. I knew it was a little risky, but I thought, this may be the chance to end it, so I did it. I really don't know how to explain it better than that."


There was silence for a second, then an Auror said, "The energy of love strikes again." Most everyone laughed, but Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth in it.


Aurors resumed chatting, and a celebratory atmosphere prevailed, although the Aurors were still serious about their tasks, ready to Disapparate. Harry turned to Ginny, whose pendant was blinking pink. She spoke into it, then looked at Harry. "Pansy was just letting me know, she and Ron will be here in ten minutes or so. They're coming a little early."


Kingsley stepped over and tapped Harry on the shoulder. "It's less than an hour, but you should go ahead and take the rest of the shift off. You can visit with Neville and Hermione, they're in Neville's quarters. If there's another Apparation, you'll hear the alarms." Harry thanked Kingsley, said goodbye to Ginny, and left.


Harry knocked on the door to Neville's temporary quarters, and the door was opened by Hermione. "Harry!" she squealed happily as she wrapped him in a hug.


Harry was mystified for a moment, then understood. "I guess you heard about Malfoy."


"News travels fast around here," said Neville, as Hermione kissed Harry's cheek, then let him go. "Congratulations."


"Thanks," said Harry. "So, how are you two doing?"


Neville and Hermione glanced at each other, their expressions suggesting that it wouldn't be easy to put the answer into words. "It's been a long night, and I guess you could say, emotionally exhausting," said Neville. "But this helped a lot," he added, gesturing to the Pensieve. "I know it's not only you, it was Gran and Albus too, but I want to thank you for helping to get it to me. It made today a whole lot less difficult." Neville looked at Harry with great affection.


"I was happy to do it, Neville. I'm glad it helped. It's funny, I felt a little like I shouldn't have watched it, because it was really private, even though I know that you can't watch it if I don't. I felt like crying when I saw it, and it wasn't even for me."


Neville nodded. "After I saw it for the first time, I cried for, like, a half hour." Harry understood that it was an indication of Neville's trust and confidence in him that he would tell Harry something like that. "I think some of it was sadness, some was happiness that she didn't really die, if you know what I mean, and some of it was just all the emotion in this situation. Then I called Hermione and asked her to come over. I knew I had to show her what was in there."


"Then when I saw it," said Hermione, "I cried for a long time, too. I was happy for Neville, still sad that he'd lost his grandmother, guilty for things I said, the way I acted... we talked about it, and cried together... lots of crying in this room tonight. What his grandmother said about our relationship, it made so much sense, but we hadn't thought about it like that. In a way, we hadn't thought about it at all. You know, just living day to day, you don't think to talk about the way your relationship is going unless you have a problem. I mean, I'll bet you and Ginny haven't sat down and had a conversation about what your relationship is like."


"No, we haven't," said Harry.


Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't think most people would. Anyway, we've spent a lot of the past nine hours talking about this. I was really grateful that his grandmother said the things she did about him and me, because I was so scared about what might happen. You know I was extremely angry at what Skeeter said in those letters, I still am, but I couldn't deny that there was some truth to them. I knew in some ways I hadn't treated Neville very well, and you know I was terrified I might lose him." Hermione's voice started to reflect some of the emotion of what she had gone through. "I told him today that I would beg, I would plead, I would grovel if that was what it took for him to stay with me." Harry's eyebrows rose involuntarily as she spoke. She continued, "He didn't make me, of course, but I would have. You're wondering why I would say that to you, Harry, even if I would say it to Neville. It's for the same reason Ron told you he loved you. I want myself and Neville to know that I'm willing to say that to another person, that I accept the... giving up my pride, loss of control, whatever you want to call it. That I don't have to be in control all the time, have all the power. I always have, although I didn't realize it. Neville always worried that he wasn't good enough for me, but I never worried. Then after the letters, I started to worry that I wasn't good enough for him, and like I said, it terrified me. Or, as Muggles say, it put the fear of God into me. I don't want to be like I have been. Like, with the Legilimency thing. I compromised my privacy to help you, and I don't regret that, but I compromised Neville's, too, without asking him, and I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't that I didn't respect him enough to-I just thought it would be easier for him not to know-but I understand now that that's how it could seem, and I should have asked him."


"In a way," said Neville, "the Legilimency thing was the worst thing in the letter. I mean, once I got over the shock of losing Gran, and the rest of what happened, I knew full well that Hermione would never want anything to happen to Gran. And the training thing, well, that wasn't great, and she did apologize-"


"One of the longer and more humble apologies," said Hermione, with an expression that showed her unhappiness at what she had done. "I think I've apologized more today than I have for everything else in my life, combined."


"Well, anyway," continued Neville, mildly embarrassed, "I do know that many women say that, it just kind of hurt more in my case, for obvious reasons. But the Legilimency thing was..." Neville trailed off.


"Neville is coming up to a part of the sentence where it would be critical of me, and he feels bad, since I've already apologized so much," said Hermione wryly. "It was typical of how I've dealt with him, my always thinking I know what's best, and assuming I should make decisions for him without his consent. I can see why that hurt him a lot, it is kind of a betrayal of trust. I mean, my intentions were good, but..."


"You know, Harry, I don't blame you for any of that," Neville assured him. "It seemed like you were looking kind of guilty there. It's not your job to ask her if it's okay with me to do that. But I know what her reasons were, and yes, I'll be kind of embarrassed if you see certain things. And I understand there are aspects of the situation that I'm not supposed to know about. But she could have just told me that, instead of telling me nothing at all."


Hermione nodded. "I should have. And I feel bad about it, Harry, but after talking about it with Neville, I have to modify part of what I promised you. From now on when we do Legilimency, there will be one memory that I'll have to put in the Pensieve every time. I am sorry about that, to you and to Ginny, but it really is necessary."


Harry shook his head, dismissing her apology. "My first reaction is, only one? I'm sure Ginny and I both understand that Neville's needs are part of this, too. Besides, the time when your gesture was most needed and appreciated has passed."


"Yes, that's true," agreed Hermione, who Harry knew could not elaborate for fear of giving Neville information he wasn't supposed to know. "I still feel bad, though, for promising something I couldn't deliver on."


"Really, don't worry about it," he assured her. "Ginny and I won't, I promise." Remembering something she'd said in passing, he asked, "Ron told you about that?"


"Yes, he stayed with me yesterday afternoon until I fell asleep," explained Hermione. "He was really nice. He told me all about what you two did. I was impressed that he did it, and even more impressed that he told me all about it. He said it was to 'embrace his embarrassment,' as you put it, but I know it was also to keep my mind off things. It worked pretty well; what you guys did was really interesting. He says he wants it to stay within the six of us, but except for that, he doesn't care. And I heard it worked, he got his 100, so I was really happy for him."


As she finished the sentence, there was a knock at the door. Hermione walked over to get it, and Pansy and Ron walked in. Harry noticed that Pansy's pendant was blinking red. "Hi," said Ron. "Just so you know, Pansy has an open channel on her pendant to Ginny. She's still on ready status, but we want her to be able to hear us, since she's the only one not here. If she wants to say something, she'll say it to Harry, and he can tell us." Harry understood the reason; Ginny could look at him in her hand while on ready status-his hand had started tingling when Ron and Pansy came in-and she could talk to him without making noise.


Pansy walked to Harry and put her hands on his shoulders. "I heard about Malfoy, of course. I can't tell you how happy I am, and how grateful. I'm not sure you can know what it means to me to have him out of the way." She stepped forward, kissed him on the cheek, and gave him a long hug. Embarrassed, he smiled as she finally let go.


He listened as he heard Ginny speak in his head, then chuckled. "Ginny says that you can thank me even more than that if you want," he said, as the others laughed. "I think she likes seeing me embarrassed."


"I think we already knew that," said Ron. "I'd like to congratulate you too, Harry, though I'll skip the hug and kiss, and just offer a manly handshake."


Harry smiled and shook Ron's hand as Pansy said, "Should we consider it significant that he feels the need to specifically mention how manly it is?"


Harry and Ron said 'no' as one. "You two would say that," laughed Pansy.


"Actually, Harry, since the Pensieve is conveniently here, we were wondering if we could see what happened," suggested Ron.


"Okay," agreed Harry. "I'm actually wondering what you guys will think." He put back the memory of Neville's grandmother, and put in the memory of Malfoy's capture, stopping it when the Aurors took Malfoy away. He watched it with them. Ginny couldn't see, of course, but he knew he could show it to her anytime later.


Exiting the Pensieve, his friends looked at him with varying degrees of surprise. Neville was the first to speak. "Harry, do you think you were like that partly because of what happened to me and Hermione?"


"The thought crossed my mind," agreed Harry. "It was probably that, what he did to Pansy and Ginny, and just his being Malfoy for the past six years."


"Well, obviously, I loved it," said a grinning Ron. "I could watch it a dozen times, it was so cool. The funny thing is... it occurred to me that it's not really in keeping with what we talked about yesterday. But I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't done it the way you did. After everything Malfoy's done to us, I think we deserve to watch him squirm."


Harry couldn't argue with Ron about that. "It never occurred to me in the situation, but I don't think I could have helped myself anyway, it was so good. Finally, after all this time, I have Malfoy in my power, I was the one who caught him, I could just invade his memories and take some at will, use the information to scare the hell out of him... I knew, on some level, that I shouldn't be like that, that it should just be that I was an Auror and he was a criminal. But, in the situation, I just couldn't. Not with him."


"Harry, I think you're holding yourself to the Dumbledore standard of behavior here," said Hermione. "Nobody in the world would blame you for doing what you did, knowing your past with him. Some people might say you restrained yourself well. You didn't kick him in the head, for example."


They all smiled. "Yeah, but you noticed I wasn't leaping up to stop it, either."


"Well, again, that's the Dumbledore standard," said Ron. "Yes, I was thinking, I'm beginning to rather like Dudley."


"Look, Harry, I enjoyed it, and I refuse to feel bad for enjoying it," put in Neville. "I especially liked how you mentioned what happened to me to threaten him, and how well it worked. In fact, I was thinking I'd give you a kiss too, like Pansy, but then I realized it wouldn't be very manly." The others all laughed, including Harry.


"Couldn't you just give him a manly kiss, Neville?" joked Pansy. "Of course, I'm with them, I could watch it a dozen times as well. You'll have to leave it in there sometime, Ron and I can make an evening of it."


"It's not like I'm totally proud of it, though," said Harry uncomfortably. "I mean, when you get right down to it, it was Schadenfreude. I was enjoying his pain, his fear, his helplessness."


"Harry," said Neville in a tone that was, for him, unusually sharp. "What do you think about me for what I did to Lestrange?"


The starkness of Neville's question took him aback. He thought for a few seconds. "You weren't yourself, Neville."


"So, you wouldn't blame me for what I did. I know the situations were very different, but you have a lot of legitimate anger at Malfoy. And it was a surprise to see him there, you didn't have time to prepare. Your emotions took over, and it's understandable. And you wouldn't want to make us feel bad about enjoying it, would you?"


Despite his discomfort, Harry smiled. "Of course not." He held up a hand as he heard Ginny in his head. Still smiling, he said, "She says you guys are getting her all worked up, now she really wants to see it." To her, he added, "I promise to show you as soon as we're done at the Dursleys'." He then explained to the others what had to be done there.


"Harry, you forgot to mention me," said Hermione. "I've never been to your place, I should go too."


"It would probably be better if you took a few days off, Hermione," said Harry, as Neville nodded his approval.


"Well, maybe," she reluctantly agreed, "but I should do at least the first few hours of the next shift, so they can use the time to teach Ron and Pansy how to Apparate; neither knows yet."


Harry sighed; her suggestion was reasonable, but there was another consideration, one he'd hoped not to have to bring up. "I understand, and that does make sense. But there's another thing." He took out his wand and cast on himself the measuring spell Kingsley had taught him. "Kingsley taught me this a while ago. Would you cast Blue on me?"


She looked both surprised and offended. "You think I can't do it?"


"I think it's possible," he admitted. "You've been through a lot."


She gave him a dirty look, then closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She opened her eyes and cast Blue at him, silently. A gold 93 appeared in the air beside him. She put her wand away, walked to a wall, leaned against it, and started to sob. Neville walked over and held her as the others watched somberly. In Harry's head, Ginny asked him what her score was, and he told her. "Damn," he heard her say.


Miserable, Hermione held Neville and said, "This is because of Skeeter, obviously. Boy, I'm going to be stepping on every beetle I see for the rest of my life. You never know when you might get lucky."


Harry hated to say this, but knew he should. "Unfortunately, Hermione, it's that very kind of thinking-"


"I know that, Harry," she half-shouted, shooting him an angry look. "There's just nothing else in me right now, all right? I don't need you to tell me that. I'm amazed I got as much as 93, when I think about it. She's only done her best to humiliate me, hurt my friends, try to get Neville to leave me, and make his already enormous suffering worse. How much more has to happen until I'm justified in feeling this way?"


Ginny spoke in Harry's head. "Ginny says, 'He was making a factual statement, Hermione, not trying to judge you. He probably shouldn't have said that right then, but he didn't mean anything by it,'" said Harry, feeling odd in relaying a message that defended him.


Hermione sighed and held onto Neville more tightly. "I know, Ginny, I know Harry's not like that. It's just that, you're right, it just wasn't the best time to say that." Harry silently nodded, his heart going out to her. She touched Neville's face, on the verge of more tears. "Thank goodness I still have you."


"You always will," he assured her. They held each other again, and there was silence. Harry heard Ginny say in his head, "It's a quarter to noon, Harry. You should give Ron and Pansy the tour, if you're going to."


Harry relayed this to the room. "She's right, we should get going. Ginny and I will come by later, if that's okay."


"I thought we might go back to the Burrow, actually," said Neville. "I've been here for over a day now, it would be nice to have a change of scenery. You can meet us there." Harry nodded, and he, Pansy, and Ron said goodbye and left.


After Kingsley confirmed that Ron could do the spells, Harry, Ron, and Pansy headed off for the Aurors' fireplace to go to the Dursleys'. Harry had asked if Ron and Pansy needed to be authorized, but Kingsley had explained that the Aurors' fireplaces were special; no fireplaces were unauthorized when accessed from there.


Harry came through the Dursleys' fireplace first, followed by Ron, then Pansy. Dudley, watching TV in the living room, turned it off and got up. "Hi, Harry, Ron, Pansy. Ready for the tour?"


Harry remembered that Dudley had met them all at King's Cross a few weeks ago, so there was no need for introductions. Ron looked around and said, "Oh, yeah, I was here once before. Didn't see that much of the house, though."


Dudley looked at Ron askance. "Yeah, I remember that time. Kind of hard to forget."


Remembering, Ron said defensively, "That wasn't me, that was my brothers. And they've done plenty worse to me, believe me."


"Somehow, I believe it," said Dudley. "Well, this is the living room, obviously."


"This is the likeliest place for an attack," said Harry, "though, really, there isn't going to be one. We have Malfoy, no one else is going to bother."


Puzzled, Pansy asked, "Why are we here, then?"


"To humor Mum," replied Dudley. "She doesn't care what problems you lot have, she just has to make sure the chances of anything happening to me are zero. Glad she isn't like this about non-magical things, I'd have never been allowed out of the house."


"Well, to be fair, you were almost killed," said Harry. "I can sort of understand why she doesn't believe us when we say it's not going to happen again."


Dudley shrugged. "Maybe. Anyway, I'll show you the upstairs." They went upstairs, first to Petunia and Vernon's bedroom. "You don't really need to know this one," said Dudley, "nothing ever happens in here." He snickered at his own joke. "And this is Harry's bedroom, or was."


"Aren't they going to change it into something else?" asked Harry.


"They've talked about it, but haven't done anything yet. Maybe they're waiting, hoping you'll come back." Harry and Dudley laughed, while Ron and Pansy exchanged puzzled looks.


They walked into the next room. "This is my bedroom," said Dudley.


"The second likeliest spot for an attack," said Harry, "assuming anyone happens to know that it's his bedroom, which they won't. Say, it's much cleaner than I remember."


Dudley grunted. "Yeah, she made me spend all morning cleaning it up, because you guys were coming. Doesn't like wizards, but she wouldn't want them to think we're a bunch of slobs. Can't figure that out."


"I thought she cleaned your room for you," said Harry.


"Used to, but she started finding stuff I didn't want her to find, so I told her I'd do it myself. Only problem with that is, I have to actually do it."


"Life is rough," said Harry, deadpan. Dudley nodded.


"What's this?" asked Ron, "another one of those television things?"


"No, it's a computer," replied Dudley. "Oh, that reminds me, you guys are on the internet! Did you know that?" He sat down and started calling up the page.


"Yeah, we heard about it recently," said Harry. The page loaded onto the screen, showing pictures of each of the six, with Harry, Hermione, and Ron on top, followed by Ginny, Neville, and Pansy below.


"Hey, why am I third?" asked Ron in what Harry assumed was feigned annoyance. "I was his friend before Hermione, I should be second."


"Maybe they wanted to keep it boy-girl-boy," Dudley suggested.


"Cute how they make it so that the couples are above and below each other," commented Pansy. "But I thought there were biographies. Where are they?"


"You click on the picture, and it takes you to that person's page," explained Dudley. He clicked on Ron's picture, and they leaned forward to read the biography.


"Hey, they don't mention Harry and I saving Hermione from the troll!" protested Ron. "These people need to do better research."


"You could send them a suggested biography, Ron," teased Pansy. "Or updates, at least. They'd probably want to know that you can use the energy-of-love spells now."


"What, this happened recently?" asked Dudley.


"Yes, today, for the first time, actually," replied Pansy.


"How does that work, anyway?" asked Dudley, obviously curious. "Is there anything special you have to do or learn to be able to do them?"


Obviously recalling what had happened with Harry and Ron the day before, Pansy and Harry burst out laughing. Now looking truly annoyed, Ron said, "You guys had better not say one word..."


"What?" asked Dudley.


Harry stopped laughing and said, "Well, Ron knows plenty of embarrassing things about me, so I'd better not say. But it's different for each person. You read about what happened with me, that should give you some idea."


Dudley smirked. "Yeah, it looked pretty embarrassing for you. I couldn't believe you talked about stuff like that."


Harry gave Dudley a look similar to one he'd given him earlier. "Yes, Dudley, but once again I call your attention to the fact-"


"That it saved my life, and so I should shut up and stop making jokes about it, right?" finished Dudley, looking resigned. "It just begs to be made fun of, though. Didn't a lot of people at your school make fun of it, when you found it?"


Harry looked at Ron and Pansy. "You two would know better than me. People really didn't joke about it to me."


"The fact is, Dudley," explained Ron, "that people were too busy being awestruck to make fun of it that much. This was a major, huge discovery. This internet thing doesn't talk about that?"


"It does, a bit. There's not much information about it, though."


Harry smiled. "That's because there's not much information about it, period. I'm the one who discovered it, I have to find out the information." He paused, then glanced at Ron and Pansy. "With a little help from my friends."


Dudley chuckled. "The Beatles."


Startled, Pansy looked around. "Beetles? Where?"


"No, Pansy, he didn't see any beetles," Harry assured her. "It's a Muggle musical group that he meant. The last words I said happen to be a famous song title." To Dudley, he explained, "We're having a little problem with one particular beetle right now, one that won't leave us alone."


"I could go get some insect spray," offered Dudley.


Ron chuckled. "That sounds like a really good idea, actually. Why didn't we think of that?"


"Unfortunately, Dudley, this is a beetle who is also a witch," said Harry. "It's a long story, but she's been harassing us, following us around." He went on to explain how being an Animagus worked.


"Cool!" enthused Dudley. "I'd be a wolf. Or maybe a cheetah, one of those ones that can run really fast."


"No, problem is, you don't get to choose what you are. You could end up a raccoon, or a penguin, or an aardvark."


"Hmmm, maybe I wouldn't bother then," said Dudley. "Can you imagine working on it for three years, and then finding out you're a rat?"


Harry and Ron exchanged a significant look. "Yes, that would be bad," agreed Ron.


"Okay, well, let's go downstairs," suggested Harry. "We need to finish up and get Ginny over here."


They walked down the stairs and headed for the living room, but Ron stopped in the hall under the stairs, and pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. "Harry, is this-"


"Yep," Harry said. "Where I slept until I was eleven."


"But there are two bedrooms upstairs!" exclaimed Pansy, aghast. "Why weren't you in the other one?"


"That was Dudley's second bedroom, for his extra stuff," said Harry.


Ron and Pansy stared at Dudley, disbelievingly. "You had to mention that..." muttered Dudley, embarrassed.


Harry found that his current life circumstances were sufficiently good that he didn't feel horribly scarred by his earlier hardships. Looking at Ron and Pansy, he said, "Look, I do want it to be clear that I don't blame Dudley for that. My aunt and uncle didn't want me, hated the idea that I was magical, and raised me as if I were a guest who had overstayed his welcome. One of the ways their unhappiness with me showed was that they went way out of their way to treat Dudley as the 'real' son, the one they were proud of, and me as someone who didn't matter. My point is that they did that, not Dudley. Dudley was raised to think that that was the natural situation, to have two bedrooms, to have every argument between us decided in his favor. You don't stop to think, 'hey, this is unfair,' if it's unfair in your favor, when you're a kid."


"But why did your aunt and uncle treat you like that?" asked Pansy, obviously feeling sympathy for Harry. "It wasn't like you were a bad person or anything."


Harry paused to think for a few seconds before answering. "Obviously, I spent a lot of time wondering about that. When I was a kid, I thought there must be something wrong with me, otherwise why would they treat me that way? My best guess is that they resented having to raise me when they didn't want to, and because I'm a wizard. If there's another reason, I sure don't know what it is."


Pansy turned to Dudley. "Do you know why, Dudley? Did they ever say anything to you about it?"


Though clearly uncomfortable with the topic, Dudley tried to answer anyway; Harry wondered if it was partly because he felt guilty for his part in how Harry had been treated. "They did, but nothing that would answer the question. They just always told me, for as long as I can remember, that he was a bad influence, that he was the sort of person you didn't associate with, that he was strange. Funny thing is, they never said why exactly, and I never thought to ask. I just accepted it. I do remember there were a few times when we were getting along, doing something together and having fun, and they would pull me aside, act as though I'd done something seriously wrong, and send me to my room. It was just easier to... give him a hard time. They had no problem with that. But beyond that, if there was another reason except for his being a wizard, I really couldn't say what it was."


Standing behind Harry, Pansy put her arms around him, her hands joining at his stomach. Embarrassed, he patted her hand. "Really, Pansy, it's okay. I don't think about it that much anymore. My life is really good now-well, except for the people trying to kill me, that's not so good-but I have you guys, I have Ginny, I still get to talk to Albus, there's lots of good stuff in my life. If what happened then was a trade for what I have now, it would be totally worth it. I'm really not complaining, and you shouldn't feel sorry for me."


She let go of him. "It's kind of hard not to, but if you say so." Looking at Dudley, she said, "Well, if he doesn't blame you, Dudley, then I don't either. Also, anyone who kicks Malfoy in the head a couple of times is all right with me."


Dudley grinned. "Seemed the least I could do, after he tried to kill me."


Harry saw Ron looking closely at the floor. "What is it?"


"Nothing, I just thought I saw something. Maybe I'm just being jumpy, after what Pansy said about beetles."


Hearing Ron say that gave Harry an idea. He suddenly grabbed his robe at the waist and shook it vigorously. A beetle hit the floor and started skittering away.


"Dudley! Quick, find a jar!" shouted Harry. Dudley ran toward the kitchen, only to stop in amazement as the beetle started to change form, sprouting arms, legs, and a torso. In a few seconds, Rita Skeeter was standing in front of them. Dudley gaped in shock.


"No, thanks, I've spent more than enough time in a jar, thanks to the lovely and charming Miss Granger." Giving Harry a contemptuous look, she added, "Took you long enough to think of doing that. Snape's right, you really aren't too bright."


Harry tried to calm his mounting anger. "Get the hell out of-no, wait, I have an idea." He walked up to her and reached for her head. She reflexively backed off. He gave her a hard stare and said, "I'll do this with or without your cooperation." She raised her eyebrows but said nothing. He reached over, found a strand of hair, and pulled sharply. He carefully placed the hair into a pocket in his robe. "Okay, now you can get the hell out of here."


She regarded him with scorn and amusement. "Well, that wasn't very energy-of-love-ish of you, now, was it? Why, it's difficult to think that this is the same person who exchanged such tender words with Ron just yesterday." Harry glanced over and saw Ron looking furious. "I'll go, Harry, because it suits me to just now, but you, me, and Granger need to have a little chat. Now that I'm out in the open, things are different. I'll meet you at the Burrow at one o'clock tomorrow, just the three of us. We'll talk outside, wouldn't want to be overheard." She smiled at the irony of her own comment. Turning her back, she walked to the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder, shouted "Diagon Alley!" and was gone.


The four exchanged looks, no one saying anything for a moment. Finally Dudley asked, "Why did you take that hair from her?"


"To make a detector, like your pendant," said Harry. "They can use this to make something that'll let us know when she's around. Boy, that was annoying."


"That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen," said Dudley fervently. "Wait till I tell Mum and Dad. Then again, maybe I'd better not."


"It would really reinforce their idea that all wizards are freaks," noted Harry. "Well, it's been too long as it is, better get you guys back and get Ginny out here. Dudley, I'll be back with Ginny in five minutes or so."


They went into the fireplace, and five minutes later, Harry came out again, followed by Ginny. She and Dudley exchanged greetings, and she looked at his feet. Puzzled, he asked, "What is it?"


"I just wanted to look at your shoes," she said. "Was hoping they were steel-toed or something."


He smiled. "No, afraid not. Don't usually kick people, but it just seemed the right thing to do in his case. Well, let's do the tour." They started walking through the house, in the same order as with Ron and Ginny. When they got to Dudley's bedroom, Ginny looked at the computer, which was still displaying Ron's picture and biography.


"Oh, this is that internet thing! I want to see the one about me," said Ginny. Dudley called up the page, and she started reading. "Seems fairly accurate. I'm surprised they found out about me being able to do the spells already. I didn't think that was public knowledge, nothing's been in the Prophet about it."


Dudley was reading along with her. "Why does it say that you two are 'expected to be married in the next few years?' Are you engaged or something?"


"Not formally," explained Harry, "but you already read about the Joining of Hands. Since that's irreversible, everyone understands that it means we intend to be together for the rest of our lives. We'll probably get married after Ginny graduates from Hogwarts."


"Well, congratulations," said Dudley. "So, are you guys... you know..."


Harry rolled his eyes. "Dudley..." he said in annoyance.


Ginny turned from looking at the computer screen, eyes sparkling. "Well, Dudley, he did discover the energy of love. It'd be kind of stupid of me to let that go to waste, wouldn't it?"


Dudley and Ginny grinned as Harry moaned and looked away in embarrassment. "You're really going to go to town with me right now, aren't you," asked Harry plaintively.


"It is very tempting," agreed Ginny. To Dudley, she said, "He embarrasses so easily, I could have his face beet red in a few minutes. But I love him, so I'm not going to do that." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, evidently not caring about Dudley's presence.


"Very thoughtful of you," said Harry warily, not having decided whether she was joking or not. To Dudley, he warned, "Just wait till you get a girlfriend."


"Oh, I have one," replied Dudley. "She'd never do what Ginny just did, though. She likes to play hard to get. Likes me to chase her."


"No, in our case, I chased Harry. Didn't think I'd ever actually get him, but I did, somehow. I prefer to play easy to get, since it means I can be got more."


Dudley grinned at Harry, who couldn't help but grin back. "Like I said, my life is pretty good right now."


"I see what you mean," agreed Dudley. Ginny asked to look at Harry's page, and Dudley called it up. "Wow, even a picture of the front and back of your Chocolate Frog card," she commented. "They can't make it so that your image leaves the card and comes back, though. Bet they could, if there were magical computers."


"That should be a project for your father," said Harry, picturing Arthur's enthusiasm for doing something like that.


"Yeah, he'd like that," agreed Ginny. "We should, I mean, you should get him a computer."


"No, 'we' is right," said Harry. "The money is yours, too, as far as I'm concerned. You should feel free to spend anything you want."


"But we're not married yet-"


"That's really more a technicality," he argued. "But it would make me happy. And you do like to make me happy, don't you?"


She sighed. "You know just what to say, don't you."


Dudley looked confused. "You have money? How? How much?"


"My parents left it to me, and it's forty-odd thousand Galleons. In Muggle terms, about two hundred thirty thousand pounds."


Dudley gaped. "Wow... why didn't you ever spend any of it? Buy yourself stuff?"


"Partly because I didn't know the exact amount at first, and thought I'd better save it, and partly because I didn't want your parents knowing. They might have decided that as my legal guardians, they were entitled to it."


"Dumbledore would have never let them do that," said Ginny. "And can you imagine them walking up to a Gringotts goblin and asking to get into your vault?"


"Good point, I don't think it would be worth it to them," agreed Harry. "Still, it would have been one more thing for them to harass me about, which I didn't need."


"So, you're going to get her father a computer?" asked Dudley, clearly hoping the conversation wouldn't take the same turn into Harry's childhood that the last one had. "You'd need to get him an internet connection, too, and it's not trivial to get set up. You have to know what you're doing."


Ginny smiled at Harry. "Sounds like a job for Hermione."


He nodded. "Maybe I'll talk to her about it after the Apparation crisis is over. I'm sure she'll want to spend the summer boning up on Transfigurations, though. Well, we've seen the whole place, Ginny, do you think you can Apparate here fast enough to save Dudley's life?"


"I think so," she responded casually. "And Dudley, if I do, and it's Malfoy, you can pay me back by giving him a few more kicks in the head."


Dudley laughed. "I would do that anyway, just for myself. But for you... I'll think of you the next time I go shopping for shoes."


"Good," she said. They headed towards the fireplace. As Harry prepared to throw the Floo powder into the fireplace, Dudley said, "Oh, Harry, forgot to mention it before, but... thanks for saving my life."


Harry smiled. "Any time."

* * * * *


Back at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny met Hermione and Neville. Harry told them about what had happened with Skeeter. Hermione moaned, "Oh, I don't think I can take meeting with her. Not right now. It's not going to be anything good, that's for sure." Harry found it hard to disagree.


"I was going to go back to the Aurors before Ginny and I went to sleep," he said. "Maybe I can get them to imbue something using that hair so we can know if she's around. I'd really rather not have her following me around. By the way, I wondered, why didn't she show up on those maps you made of Hogwarts last year?"


Hermione shook her head, angry with herself. "That was my fault, an oversight. Animagi don't show up on maps like that unless you do a special charm on them. I forgot to do it, and Remus didn't specifically mention it to me when we talked about it. I'm sure he remembered to do it on his map because the Marauders were all Animagi. There was nothing like that to make me think of it, and I didn't.


"But as for the imbuing, Harry, you don't need to go to the Aurors. I can do that, it's the same charm I used when I charmed the maps to make them go off if Crabbe or Goyle got near you. Just give me the hair and the item you want imbued, and it'll just take a minute. And I won't forget to do the charm that detects Animagi, so it won't matter whether she's a beetle or herself."


"Great, thanks," he said, happy for the peace of mind of knowing that he would no longer be monitored without his knowledge.


"Harry," said Ginny, "You did bring the Pensieve back. I want to see the Malfoy thing, before we forget."


Before Harry could answer, Hermione chimed in, "Yes, I wouldn't mind seeing it again myself." Neville nodded his agreement.


Harry sighed. "Okay, it's in my room, let's go." They went to the boys' bedroom and watched the memory. When they came out of the Pensieve, Ginny smiled at Harry.


"Harry, I have to say, that was really..." Pretending to struggle for words, she ran a hand through Harry's hair and another across his chest in a comically exaggerated, suggestive way. "Neville, Hermione, would you leave us alone for a while?"


The other three laughed heartily as Harry turned pink. "I think you heard me mention that I wasn't totally proud of it," said Harry in a mildly reproving way.


"Okay, Harry, now I'm going to be serious," said Ginny. "I understand why you feel that way. But think about the fact that I was kidnaped and tortured by Malfoy, and he tried to kill me. He did worse to Pansy. For those of us who suffered because of him, there's something comforting in knowing that you didn't go easy on him when you had the chance. It was like you stood up for us; we know it was mostly because of us, because you care about us, that you were like that. You weren't cruel, you weren't inhuman, you just enjoyed catching him and making him pay, even if only a little bit, for what he'd done. I thoroughly enjoyed that, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that, for knowing that you'll be tough with people who hurt your friends." She paused. "Also, I really am a little excited."


This time, Harry smiled along with Neville and Hermione. "All right, I understand, I won't argue with you. And as for the other thing, well, we'll be back at my quarters soon. At least we won't have to worry about unwanted visitors, thanks to Hermione."


Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Do you think she's..."


"Wouldn't surprise me," he said, trying not to think about it. "She was clearly with Ron and I for our session yesterday, all she had to do was stay in my robes for a little while longer."


Hermione's face reflected her disgust. "That's sick. Of course, it's no more sick than the other stuff she's done, but still... well, give me that hair, I'll get to work on imbuing... what should I imbue?"


Ginny took off a ring and handed it to Hermione. Harry shrugged. "Don't suppose you have any more of those fake Galleons? Except for the pendant, there's nothing I carry around with me all the time."


"A Galleon it is," she agreed. "Yes, I have a few in my trunk." She got up and headed to her room.


"How are you doing, Neville?" asked Ginny.


Neville shrugged. "Not so bad. Much better than yesterday would be a good way to put it."


Ginny looked at him sadly. "I haven't really had a chance a chance to talk to you since it happened, and I just wanted to say..." She trailed off, then walked to him and hugged him, holding him tightly.


"Thank you for saying that, Ginny," said Neville, as he returned the hug. "I appreciate it. I suppose it'll take some time to get used to it, but what happened today was a big help. Being able to see her talk to me like that... I wish every person who lost someone got to do that." He let go of Ginny.


"Would've saved me a lot of grief if I'd been able to do that with Sirius," agreed Harry. "Especially since I felt I was largely responsible for his death. He probably would have told me I wasn't, and that I shouldn't think about it."


"Me too, Harry, of course. You saw what Gran said about that."


"Yes, Neville, but I didn't understand what she was referring to. I didn't want to ask you, because I felt like it was just my place to relay the message."


Neville took a deep breath before speaking. "It was one of the things that Hermione and I were fighting about in the weeks before Gran was killed, in fact, even before we left Hogwarts. She thought I should come live at the Burrow too, and that security precautions should be taken at my place. I thought she was just trying to get me to come to the Burrow because she wanted to be around me, and I was flattered, but I knew how Gran would feel about it, and I said no without even asking her. Hermione was persistent, so finally I talked to Gran about the idea of our safety, and she refused to do anything differently. Ironically, today Hermione was apologizing for all the things she was wrong about, but she was right about this one. I felt like, if I had listened to her, maybe this wouldn't have happened."


Harry shook his head. "You know how your grandmother was, Neville. It wouldn't have mattered what you had said. She wouldn't have changed her mind."


"I know, really. It's just hard not to think about things like that."


"Boy, I can really understand that," said Harry, feeling that it was an understatement.


"Where are you going to live now, Neville?" asked Ginny. "I mean, somehow living alone in that house doesn't seem like such a good idea."


"Well, I probably wouldn't be in that much actual danger," said Neville. "I mean, I'm still not a high-priority target, and-"


"After what you called Voldemort?" asked Harry incredulously. "I think you made the high-priority target list, Neville. He takes that kind of thing pretty seriously. I'm sure he's really angry that you said that to him and lived."


"Hmmm, hadn't thought of it that way. You may be right. Anyway, Gran's house might be safe enough, since I have the adrenaline detector in the pendants, but I suppose they could get me while I was asleep or something. So, yes, I wasn't going to stay there. I was going to stay with the Aurors for a few days, then come here. Cassandra wants me to stay so she can keep an eye on me, she wants to help me get better. But, yes, I will be here soon."


"We'll be happy to have you, Neville," said Harry.


Neville nodded. "I knew that already, of course. But thanks."


Hermione walked into the room and, with great satisfaction, handed the ring to Ginny and the Galleon to Harry. "There you go, one guaranteed beetle-free afternoon of sleep. How did you get the hair from her, anyway? I wouldn't think she'd just give it to you."


"I kind of threatened her," admitted Harry. "I walked up to her to take it, and when she backed away, I said, 'I'll do this with or without your cooperation.' She didn't protest, and I took it."


Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Harry. Like Ginny said, you're sticking up for your friends."


Giving Harry a significant look, Ginny said, "Harry, let's get back to Hogwarts. Now." Fawkes burst into view as Hermione and Neville laughed, and Harry and Ginny grabbed his tail and were gone.


Harry walked into Snape's office later that evening at a few minutes after ten. Harry had not been surprised that Snape had called, as Snape had warned that he might, but it was the third straight night. Maybe he abstained too long when the Apparation crisis started, Harry had thought.


"Good evening, Professor," said Harry. "How's the schedule coming along?"


"Not so well," Snape replied. "I can tell you that you will have a particularly busy year, as you must teach the N.E.W.T. classes as well. I have tried to keep your schedule as similar to last year as possible, but some changes must of course be made. I was considering the possibility of consolidating your seventh year class, having all students in it rather than two separate classes, as is normal."


Harry shrugged. "Whatever you think is best. What made you think of doing that?"


"Mostly, last year's decimation of the sixth year Slytherin boys' ranks, which meant that the Slytherin/Ravenclaw class was reduced to nine students by the end of last year. Combining them would mean one class of twenty-four members, which is manageable, and would give you one less class in your already busy schedule."


"That sounds good, thanks," said Harry agreeably.


"There is one development of which you should be aware," Snape went on. "I received an owl today from Mr. Zabini, who states that he wishes to be included in the N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class."


Harry nodded. "And...?"


Snape looked mildly annoyed, as if Harry should have anticipated the rest. "It is a highly irregular request, as he did not take the class in sixth year. Normally one cannot take the seventh year class if one does not take the sixth year class. I would have immediately refused the request, but such decisions are up to the discretion of the professor teaching the class, that is, you. I anticipated that you would approve the request."


"And you were right," confirmed Harry.


"I do not particularly care, but I would advise you to reconsider such a cavalier attitude," said Snape, in a tone which Harry felt conveyed Snape's conviction that Harry was acting stupidly. "Not only are there excellent reasons for disallowing such a request in general, but particularly in Mr. Zabini's case. His skills in this subject are very poor, to put it mildly. Even before Mr. Longbottom's improvement, Mr. Zabini made Mr. Longbottom look like an Auror by comparison."


"Somehow I think he'll do better this year," argued Harry. "Remember, his dormitory-mates were Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, and Nott. From what I heard, they were always really abusive to him, treated him terribly, because he was shy and didn't stand up for himself very well."


"He was weak, is what you mean to say," retorted Snape.


Harry found he didn't like Snape's attitude, and reminded himself that he was there to help Snape. He tried to focus on love. "You make it sound like what happened to him was his fault. I don't like to think of how it would have been if it had been me in there instead of him."


Snape raised an eyebrow. "You would have fought. You might have lost every fight, but you still would have fought." To Harry's surprised look, Snape continued, "I was told of your detentions with Dolores Umbridge, Professor. Of course you would have fought. You fought me for five years; you never allowed yourself to be cowed, as did Mr. Longbottom. Some people fight; some people do not."


Harry smiled a little. "Neville fights now."


Snape nodded in what appeared to be reluctant respect for Neville. "Yes, he does. I assume you are referring to the epithet he used. I imagine you all understand that he is now a high-priority target of the Dark Lord."


"Yes, we were talking about that earlier. Did you hear about what happened today?"


"No, I have not talked to the headmistress today, as she has been busy. I assumed I would learn of today's events in short order." Harry gestured to Snape to go ahead, and Snape did. He started with Harry returning to the Burrow yesterday, and his conversation with Arthur about the Memory Charm he had placed on Molly. He then saw the first Death Eater capture; Harry was impressed by Snape's ability to leap seamlessly from one significant memory to another, skipping what was unimportant.


Snape came to the Malfoy capture, and Harry saw the images in his mind as Snape accessed them. When Harry cast Legilimens on Malfoy, Snape gave a sudden start; Harry saw him look astonished and pale. "What is it?" asked Harry. Snape didn't answer, but backed up and viewed the scene again until Malfoy was taken away. Snape then viewed it a third time, focusing very closely on the images Harry had seen in Malfoy's mind. Snape then put down his wand, sat back in his chair, and seemed to be focusing on something. "Professor?" asked Harry, wondering what the problem was.


After a minute, Snape answered. "I am making a serious attempt, Professor, to restrain the anger and frustration I feel at your having done something so... breathtakingly foolish."


Harry blinked in surprise. "Do you mean doing Legilimens on him?"


Evenly, Snape replied, "Yes, Professor, that is what I mean. At least you have discerned that much. Perhaps, as an exercise, you may want to try to work out why what you did was so terrible an idea."


Harry was starting to become annoyed at Snape's criticism, though relatively muted as it was, and embarrassed at the idea that there was something obvious he had overlooked. He tried to focus on love and think critically at the same time. After a minute he said, "The only thing I can think of is that if he had a wand, he could have struck back, and seen something in my mind, like us talking. But he didn't have a wand."


"Wandless magic is not unheard of, as you well know," pointed out Snape. "That was one danger of what you did; though a low-probability danger, it was still not worth risking in the situation. But the larger danger, which I am astonished that you continue to overlook, was not what he would see, but what you would see. You could easily have seen him talking to me; I do talk to various Death Eaters at times, including him. If you had seen him talking to me, he would have known you had seen it, and therefore known that you knew me to be working for the Dark Lord. He would then expect you to convey this information to the headmistress, and I would be discharged and arrested; my being allowed to stay a Hogwarts professor after your seeing such a thing would have raised too much suspicion. I could still have 'escaped' and functioned as a spy against the Dark Lord, but not as a Hogwarts professor, which is where my true utility to him lies, or so he thinks.


"Naturally, in such a scenario, the damage would not be irretrievable. Mr. Malfoy would not immediately be able to communicate the information to the Dark Lord, but it must always be assumed that any Death Eater could escape at any time. The logical course would then have been the elimination of Mr. Malfoy, as he had information which would damage us should it reach the Dark Lord, and that could not be risked."


It took a minute for what Snape had said to register. "You mean... if I had seen him talking to you, you would have had him killed?"


"Strictly speaking, such a thing is not within my purview. I would have relayed the information to the headmistress and Mr. Shacklebolt, who would then have had to make the decision. I believe they would have made the correct choice; they are both realists, and even the small possibility of the Dark Lord getting such information is unacceptable. As events occurred, you saw nothing that could incriminate me, and so the headmistress and Mr. Shacklebolt were spared such a decision. However, what concerned me was not so much the question of whether Mr. Malfoy's death would have to be arranged, but rather the stark realization that my life and my utility to the Order are in the hands of one capable of such a stunning misjudgment."


Harry now felt very embarrassed. Snape was obviously right; he should have thought about the consequences of doing Legilimens on a Death Eater. He thought of apologizing, but immediately realized that an apology would mean nothing to Snape. He kept his expression even, saying nothing.


Snape continued speaking. "I can hear the words of the headmaster in my mind. 'He is only seventeen, Severus. He is doing the best he can.' That may be true, but you are sitting, as they say, at the adults' table now. Lapses of judgment can cost lives, and of those more important than Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps I should attempt to tutor you in elements of tactical decision-making as it applies to such situations. I may be unable to offer opinions on love and morality, but I can give guidance on clear-headed thinking. It seems that such a thing could be useful to you."


Harry understood that Snape did not intend to be insulting-in fact, was going out of his way to avoid it-but he still had to struggle to react to Snape's suggestion dispassionately. "I'm not in a position to argue with you," he said. "I'd be interested in whatever you had to say, as these situations come up." He knew he could learn from Snape, even if he'd rather not, and he wondered if he would one day lose the life of one of his friends to such a misjudgment. He did his best to swallow his pride.


That night was a slow one, from Harry's point of view; there were no Apparations, so it was beginning to appear that the information Harry had pulled from Malfoy was accurate. Near the end of the shift, Kingsley told Harry and Ginny that this might be their last one, and he would let them know for sure sometime that evening. In the meantime, he advised them to stick to their current sleep schedule for at least one more day. As they went off shift, Harry remembered that he and Hermione had to talk to Rita Skeeter in an hour. He wasn't looking forward to it, and he wondered how Hermione was dealing with the prospect of coming face to face with her tormentor.


At a few minutes to one, Harry and Hermione sat in conjured chairs in the Weasleys' front yard. Glancing at Hermione, Harry saw that she seemed to be trying hard to concentrate; he hoped it was on the energy of love. "How're you doing?"


"I'm reminding myself of the reasons not to actually kill her," she responded, looking straight ahead.


Harry nodded, as if it were the answer he expected. "Good idea."


In the distance, they saw the Knight Bus appear out of nowhere. It came toward the Burrow, and stopped. Rita Skeeter got out and walked up to them, wearing a cheery smile. "Hello. Lovely day, isn't it?"


Hermione was stonily silent, staring at Skeeter with undisguised loathing. Harry decided that he should speak as much as possible so Hermione wouldn't have to. "Okay, Skeeter, we're here. What did you want to talk about?"


Skeeter sat down in the chair Harry had already conjured. "Well, first, I'd really like to have a discussion with our dear Hermione about the moral issues involved in our little situation. It seems she thinks I'm evil, or something along those lines."


"'Evil' doesn't come close to covering it," spat Hermione in disgust. "You know what you did, you know what you tried to do. You're not going to fool anybody by pretending it wasn't evil."


Skeeter shrugged lightly. "It wasn't nice, I'll grant you, though 'evil' seems like too strong a word. Nothing I said in those letters wasn't the truth. Is it evil to tell people the truth? Maybe it is, when people don't want to know the truth, when they'd rather close their eyes to who they really are. But that's all I ever did, as a journalist. You were angry with me for revealing that Hagrid was a half-giant, but it was the truth."


Harry decided to jump in before Hermione responded. "Everything you write has information taken out which would help to tell the truth if you put it in. You want people to think a certain thing, and you write to fit that. For example, Pansy didn't tell Ron about the thing with Malfoy because she wanted to spare him pain, not because it wouldn't 'concern him.' Hermione and Ginny were concerned about Pansy and Ron's relationship, not thinking they 'couldn't make it work.' It's all-"


"'Twisted and distorted,' yes, I've heard you say that," agreed Skeeter pleasantly. "But it could be true that Pansy didn't think it would concern Ron. How would I know? It's a reasonable extrapolation. And if Ron and Pansy broke up over him bringing up her past, couldn't you accurately say that they 'couldn't make it work,' and that was what Ginny and Hermione were talking about? I really reject your premise that you can't present a certain point of view when writing an article and still have it be true."


"Hugo doesn't do that," argued Harry.


Skeeter laughed derisively. "Ah, Brantell... yes, Harry, he does do that, he just does it in your favor. Like you said with your cousin, you don't worry that things aren't fair if they're not fair in your favor. He omits information from his articles that would make you look bad if he put it in, because he likes you. It's no different than what I do. So I don't condemn him for it; anybody in the journalism trade understands that any article is going to have a point of view. Intelligent readers," Skeeter emphasized the word with a glance at Hermione, "understand that as well, and filter the article accordingly. Journalism would be extremely boring if there was no point of view."


"So it's all right to leave people with an impression that isn't true?" pressed Harry.


"As I said, smart people will recognize the article's point of view, and adjust for it when they read," replied Skeeter. "And if they're not smart enough to, well, too bad for them. I don't write just for stupid people to be able to understand, and fortunately, the Prophet doesn't make me."


"Skeeter," said Hermione, trying to stay in control of her emotions, "I really have better things to do than listen to your pathetic rationalizations for what you do, and every minute I spend with you is a minute I have to try very hard not to vomit. So could we please speed this up?"


"Why, of course, Hermione," sneered Skeeter, in a tone that suggested that Hermione was a child who needed to be placated, "because you know there's nothing I'd rather do than make you happy." Her tone suddenly hardening, she continued, "Vomit all you want, for all I care. You're no better than me, for sure. You created me, in fact. Ask Harry, he understands it. He had interesting conversations about it, about you, the other day, with Ginny, then with Snape. He was wrestling with the morality of what you did to me, which is clearly more than you did. If you had, you would probably have no problems with me right now."


Hermione stared at Skeeter silently. Skeeter raised her eyebrows, as if Hermione had asked an interesting question. "And what was the result of these conversations? Why, I'm glad you asked. As Harry will tell you, Ginny and Snape both, in very different ways, reached the conclusion that you prevented me from writing for reasons of revenge, not because you wanted to protect yourself and your friends from my awful point of view. You could have, as Snape very intelligently pointed out, let me keep writing, just made sure I didn't write anything that you disapproved of. That would have been annoying, but livable; I would have just had to write to the point of view that you would want. It would have been an interesting challenge. But instead, I had to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs. Or, as Ginny put it, sit around with nothing to do but nurse a grudge. She's smart, Harry, smarter than you are."


Skeeter, becoming more emotionally intense, leaned forward and stared at Hermione. "Yes, Granger, this is revenge. I'm not going to make any bones about that. But you shouldn't be surprised about any of this, and the only reason you are points to the fact that you think you know best, but you really don't. You're paying now for a mistake you made when you were fourteen, a mistake that cost me a lot. You were just a kid, a hurt and offended little girl with far more brains than common sense. You thought, 'oh, I know, I'll stop her from writing for awhile! She lies, she's a bad woman, so I'll be doing a good thing!' You had, you have, no idea how it feels to sit at home and stare at the walls, to be prevented from doing something you love and you're good at. The punishment you imposed on me was hugely out of proportion to what I had done. Should it really surprise you that my thoughts turned to the question of getting back at you, at teaching you a lesson? Did you not think about the fact that people would wonder why I stopped writing, and would ask me questions about it that I couldn't really answer? How that made me look to my friends, my family? But no, you were right. You're always right.


"I'm not trying to get you to feel sorry for me, Granger. I really don't care. But I would like you to at least know what you did, because I don't think you really did. Harry was right when talking to Ginny-you're getting back what you put out, only more. But I'm not even sure that it's that much more. For your hurt feelings, you wrecked my life. You're still going to think I'm the moral equivalent of a Death Eater, but you might want to take a look in the mirror. You're responsible for this, you caused this. Maybe next time you won't wreck people's lives without a thought or a care."


Hermione still looked stony; Harry thought he saw flashes of uncertainty in her eyes once or twice, but wasn't sure. As for Skeeter, he still thought that what she had done was cold-hearted and cruel, but he had to admit that he hadn't thought through what Hermione's actions had done to Skeeter.


Hermione finally spoke. "You were an unregistered Animagus," she said coldly. "You used your ability to do things you knew would hurt people. You wouldn't have found out about Hagrid being half-giant if you weren't an Animagus. People have reasonable expectations of privacy. If they see no people around, they think they're alone. If I made a mistake, it was in not simply turning you in. Then you would have never written again, and would you blame me for wrecking your life? Or yourself for doing something against the law?"


Skeeter scoffed. "Oh, please. You don't think parents had a right to know that Hagrid is half-giant? They thought they did, when they found out. If what I did hurt people, well, the truth hurts, as you've been finding out lately. And I laugh at your scolding of me for breaking the law. There are laws against blackmail, which you may be finding out soon. You're right, you should have just exposed me. I wondered why you didn't; I assumed it was that you wanted me in your back pocket for some reason, like to get me to do that stupid article about him a year and a half ago. For no pay, adding insult to injury. Which reminds me, I also haven't been getting paid for a while, another thing you neglected to consider in your little punishment scheme. Or if you did consider it, you didn't care.


"Well, enough about the past. You're probably too angry to feel anything except self-righteous, too stubborn to admit that you were anything but totally correct in what you did. So let's move on to the future. You can be my friend, or my enemy. If you choose to be my enemy, believe me, there's plenty I can do to make your lives miserable. Those letters were just a hint of it, to let you understand what you could be letting yourselves in for.


"If you choose to be my friend, there are some considerations I will expect in return. Those considerations don't involve you much, Granger, because there's little you could do that would be of benefit to me. But you," she said, smiling and turning to Harry, "there's a lot you could do for me. First of all, interviews with you anytime I wanted, on whatever topic. I would replace Brantell as your personal journalist; I'd even be willing to write from your 'point of view,' like he does. You wouldn't have to worry about looking bad. You're the future star of the wizarding world, Harry. You'll be better-known and more well-respected than even Dumbledore was. It would do me good to have that kind of access to you.


"Secondly, as you know, I may be up on charges for being an unregistered Animagus. I have friends, people who can help me game the system, but another never hurts. I would want and expect you to use your influence, which is now considerable, to intervene on my behalf. You have clout, even if you don't like to use it. It's possible that I could even escape any form of punishment altogether, end up with a slap on the wrist.


"Thirdly, I suffered quite a bit from my enforced layoff, as I've mentioned, partly due to a lack of income. I would like to be compensated for that, in the sum of twenty thousand Galleons. I would ask it of her, but she doesn't have it, and she can't exactly ask it of her parents and tell them it's for hair care products, though she could really use them. So I ask it from you; you do have it, you're not using it, and you are culpable in that you knew what she was doing to me and said nothing. I know that it's more than I would have earned as salary during that time, but part of it is... punitive, a term that our innocent little Hermione should understand very well, as what she did to me was highly punitive. There are other small details concerning what it would take to be my friend, but those are the important ones."


Harry mentally recoiled; each of the demands was hard to contemplate acceding to. He was disgusted by the idea of giving access to Skeeter, even if it was to be favorable, and helping her avoid charges was exactly the kind of thing he did not want to use his influence for. The request for twenty thousand Galleons was also anathema, though more on principle than because of the financial loss.


Hermione was obviously having similar thoughts. Looking appalled, she said, "Harry, under no circumstances are you even going to consider what she is suggesting. There is no way you are going to agree to this."


Skeeter smiled. "I expected that reaction from you, of course. Harry here looks like he's considering it, or at least, not rejecting it. But before we ask him for an opinion, it's probably good to know the consequences of being my enemy.


"First, Harry, I have had a lot of free time over the past two years, and as you've guessed, I've spent a lot of it with you. Her, too, and your friends, but especially you. Mostly I've been hanging onto the inside of your robes, as I was today when it finally occurred to you to shake them out. This was not exactly comfortable at times, especially that day when Ginny 'jumped in the deep end.' When you did that, with your robe..." Skeeter wore a look of disgust, and rolled her eyes, "that was something I really, really didn't want to see, especially not from that angle."


Harry wondered if she was trying to deliberately anger him, or to let him know details of what she knew that could be used later to embarrass him. Hermione's face reflected her confusion as Harry tried to control his growing feelings of rage. Fury in his eyes, he stared at Skeeter. "You weren't invited."


She shrugged, as if not noticing his reaction. "True, but I thought you should know that what I've done hasn't been easy at times for me. Anyway, back to the subject, I know how much you dislike being in the public eye, even though it is mostly in a favorable way. You would really rather nothing was written about you at all. Well, after my being around you all this time, it shouldn't surprise you to learn that I have quite a bit of information about you; voluminous, you could say. More than enough to write a book. I'm three-quarters done, in fact. I haven't decided on a title yet... I'm thinking about, 'The Secret Life of Harry Potter,' and there is quite a bit that's secret about it. It would be a huge bestseller, and I could still do it, even if I end up spending time in prison for being an Animagus." Harry winced inside; the thought of such a book being written, especially in the way she would no doubt write it, was sickening.


"I see you're not thrilled at the idea," she continued, clearly enjoying herself. I didn't think you would be. Now, Consequence of Being My Enemy No. 2: You could expect me to continue to make your lives highly unpleasant, and not even considering what I might find out in the future, there's plenty that I know now that you would not want known. For example, Granger, naturally your blackmailing of me would be brought to the attention of the authorities. You think you did nothing illegal, but I think you're wrong. That would definitely be put to the test. Also, your parents could find out not only that you're involved in highly dangerous activities, and have been for years, behind their backs, but that you also lied about the reasons for staying at the Burrow, and approved of them being given Memory Charms when their rings were modified. By the time I was done with them, you'd be lucky if they ever wanted to see you again."


Just then, Harry saw the front door of the house open, and Neville walk out towards where they were sitting. Harry was surprised; he assumed Hermione had told him that Skeeter wanted to talk to them alone. Neville walked over to Hermione's chair and without a word, leaned down and gave her a kiss-a long and energetic kiss, far more so than Harry had ever seen Neville do in public before. He knew why, of course, as upon finishing, Neville gave Skeeter a disdainful glance before heading back into the house. For the first time since the meeting had started, Hermione smiled.


"Well, wasn't that cute," said Skeeter, dripping sarcasm. "And it reminds me, of course, of another of the things that could happen. So many things could come out that would be inconvenient, or worse... Neville's little outburst against Lestrange, not to mention the Aurors' covering it up... Your slip in the Department of Mysteries and your long and close relationship to the convicted murderer Sirius Black are definitely things that would come out in your biography, as well as the fact that you've become a Legilimens... it could be arranged for Molly to be shown a Pensieve memory of your little conversation the day Percy died, not to mention being told about the Memory Charm... it could become publicly known that you talk to dead people in your sleep; people would find that highly interesting, not that it would do much for your credibility... and then, yes, there's that utterly fascinating, not to mention rather peculiar, relationship you have with Professor Snape. It's like he feeds on your memories... kind of bizarre, really. People would be so intrigued to know about it!"


"You couldn't write about that!" Harry almost shouted. Keeping his voice down, he continued, "Embarrassing us is one thing, but that's top secret information. Writing that would cost us Professor Snape as a spy, which I don't think the Prophet is going to let you do, and the Ministry won't let the Prophet do."


"It wouldn't necessarily cost you Professor Snape's services," Skeeter argued. "He could tell Voldemort that he concocted some story to convince you that it was necessary, as a way of gaining access to your memories. Quite ingenious, really."


"Then Voldemort would want to know why he hadn't been getting information from that all along," responded Harry. "Besides, it's too risky. You can't know the consequences."


"But this is only if you decide to be my enemy, Harry," she said sweetly. "You could be my friend, and then we would never have to worry about all this unpleasantness. There are other things, such as the fact that Dumbledore can incapacitate Voldemort, or at least that you think he can-you might be unbalanced in thinking it, of course-and that stuff Hermione rubbed on him, that if you're my friend, you never have to worry about being revealed."


"You wouldn't," said Hermione. "You'd be convicted of treason. That's all highly classified."


Skeeter shrugged. "You may be right. Who knows? What's important is, I'd rather keep you guessing about what I would do or wouldn't do. And there's plenty more that I haven't mentioned, plus whatever I can do or find out in the future. You definitely don't want me as an enemy. So, think it over. You have five days; I want to know by next Monday."


She stood and started walking away. After a few steps, she turned and smiled. "Oh, and Harry... I know it was yesterday, but... happy birthday."


Author notes: In Chapter 5: Harry and the others try to work out how to respond to Skeeter's blackmail, as she publishes an article about his childhood which paints him in a positive light, but is sure to enrage Petunia.