Harry Potter and the Ring of Reduction

Chapter 6

The Golden Dragon

Harry wished he could have enjoyed the day off more, but the situation with Skeeter made it difficult to feel like relaxing. He had been through trials before, but they had usually involved an enemy he could fight, something he could do. Here there was nothing he could do but wait and see what happened. He spent the day with Ginny and his friends, and had yet another session with Snape, who told Harry that he would not be required Friday. Harry didn't know whether or not it was because of his dinner plans. He went to bed at nine o'clock, feeling odd sleeping in his bed at the Burrow again.

At ten to five the next day, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Pansy were in the living room. Harry was teaching dueling to Ginny and Pansy, and Ron was playing his chess computer. The fireplace lit up, and Neville walked through, followed by Hermione. They had left to meet Kingsley at four o'clock; Harry was surprised that the meeting had taken so long. "That was close, we're supposed to meet Archibald at five."

She tilted her head in apology. "Kingsley had some questions."

Ron put the chess computer aside. "Well, what did he say?"

"He's pretty concerned," said Neville. "Mainly about the operational stuff, of course, and the stuff about me. Not that he doesn't care if Harry gets put through the wringer, but those were the main things he talked about. He knows Hugo, of course, and he knows that if Hugo says that she was making an empty threat about revealing operational stuff, then she was. But he's still very unhappy that someone like her knows any operational details. I think he was seriously considering doing a Memory Charm on her, get that out of her memory."

Ron's eyebrows went up. "Can they do that? I mean, legally?"

Neville nodded. "Aurors have a lot of license, much more than I realized when Harry and I started training with them. It's not quite the case that they can do anything they want, but it seems like it's pretty close sometimes. I think that's why they have all those character tests that you have to pass before you can join, you get given a lot of responsibility. You have to be able to not abuse it. But yes, they can do it."

"It'd be nice if they could do one to get rid of all the stuff she knows about Harry, too, while they're at it," said Pansy.

"I got the impression that he would if he could," said Hermione. "While he was focused on the operational stuff, I could tell he was really unhappy about what Harry was facing. But, of course, it's not feasible. They'd have to make her forget almost the last two years of her life, which you can't do. They could try to take out particular details, like Harry being a Legilimens, but if she spent a lot of time around while Dumbledore was teaching it to him, even that would be too much to erase."

"The other problem with that," added Neville, "is that there's no telling what she's written down. They'd have to break into her place, do a search, and even then they'd have to wonder whether she'd hidden anything away anywhere else or not. I think he's going to think about what to do, but I think he is going to do something. At one point he said, "Skeeter having that kind of information is just unacceptable."

"I'd agree with that," said Harry. "The way she is, who knows who she'd tell, for whatever reason. Even the fact that she threatened to reveal it shows she's not exactly all right."

"Kingsley said that, too," said Neville.

"What did he say about your situation, Neville?" asked Ron, referring to the possibility of it being revealed that Neville had tortured Lestrange.

"I think he's considering using a Memory Charm for that, too," said Neville. "Of course, then if she has it written down, or has told another person just to be safe, then it's twice as bad. But he did say that even if she does reveal it, I shouldn't worry."

"He was very nice about it," said Hermione, her tone showing that she had very much appreciated Kingsley's protectiveness of Neville. "He made it clear that he and the Aurors will do whatever it takes to help Neville, but he said he didn't think it would even come to that point. He's pretty sure that if she tried to get it printed in the Prophet, he could stop it. He said he'd talk to the people he knows at the Prophet, get them to tell him in advance if anyone writes anything that mentions the Aurors, especially if Skeeter tries to write anything."

"But he's not going to do that yet, right?" asked Ginny. "Does he know not to do anything until Sunday?"

"Yes, we told him about what Hugo's going to do," confirmed Hermione. "He thought it was a good idea, and he'll make sure nothing he does can get back to her before then. Oh, Harry, it may interest you to know that Skeeter tried to include, in her article about you yesterday, the fact that you captured Malfoy. She wanted to be the one to break it, and its connection to the story would have been that you saved Dudley's life, that his parents didn't even thank you, and so forth. Evidently the person Kingsley knows at the Prophet thought it was strange that nobody knew about it, and called Kingsley to ask about it. Kingsley had a fit, he said, and he made sure any reference to that was taken out."

"Why?" wondered Pansy.

"Because we don't want the Death Eaters to know the circumstances of Malfoy's capture," explained Harry. "They think he tried to go straight to the Portkey. The reason they decided to stop after three consecutive captures was that they figure it means that the Aurors have gotten pretty skilled at super-fast Apparating. If they find out he disobeyed orders and got caught doing something stupid, they may decide that it's worth continuing to try. They definitely would if they knew that the third capture was close to being blind luck."

"I don't know, Harry," said Ginny. "I'm not saying I know what caused it, but somehow I don't think it was just blind luck. I think that Auror was right, that the energy of love had something to do with it."

"Then why have I never managed anything like that before, during drills?" asked Harry.

"I'm not saying I know," Ginny pointed out. "It just makes sense. But maybe the reason is that in drills, it wasn't that important. Think about the other times you did something amazing using the energy of love: when you absolutely had to. Both of the shields, and don't forget that beam you used when you thought Hermione was going to be tortured. You knew it could be the third capture, it was really important, and you staked it all on your intuition. Maybe the energy of love is most effective when it's most needed. We know so little about it, who knows?"

There was silence for a few seconds. With a wry smile, Harry said, "We should do some tests, find out whether that's true or not."

The others chuckled. "Ah, the annoyances of discovering a new type of magic," said Ron. "But what Ginny said makes sense. After all, with the Cruciatus and Killing Curse shields, you can't just bring them up anytime, but only when you need them."

"Anyway, we should wrap this up, because Harry and I need to go see Dentus in a few minutes," said Hermione. "As for your particular jeopardy, Harry, he didn't have much specific advice about what could be done about that, except that he said that of course he'd do whatever he could that would be helpful to you. And he did promise not to tell anybody until Sunday, except that he wants to talk to McGonagall about it as soon as possible. I told him I'd tell her tonight while Harry and Ginny are at the restaurant, so he'll talk to her after that." She gave Harry a sad and resigned look. "One down, two to go. Ready to go, Harry?"

Her continuing sense of guilt and responsibility were obvious, especially when she looked at him. He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Hermione."

She gave him a smile of gratitude, but it was a sad smile. "Are you sure you can't come up with a spell for this? Now would be when it's most needed, after all."

"I wish it worked that way," he said. "Okay, let's go."

Hermione followed Harry through the fireplace, and they were standing in Archibald Dentus's living room. He greeted them, and his wife came in to say hello and offer to get them something to drink, which they declined. She chatted with Harry for a minute about the Joining of Hands, expressing pleasure that her calling her husband had given Harry the idea to have it done. She then withdrew, and Dentus, Harry, and Hermione took seats.

Hermione told her story, taking about ten minutes to do so. Dentus interrupted twice to clarify points, but otherwise listened and said nothing. His eyebrows went high as Hermione finished, explaining Skeeter's demands and threats. He thought silently for a minute, then finally said, "I must say, even for one accustomed to the bare-knuckled world of political infighting, this is pretty nasty. I suspect that that's because when things like this are done in politics, it's usually based on a sober appraisal of one's best interests, a calculation which Skeeter clearly has not made. Objectively, her best interests are served by you taking the deal, but you say that Hugo says she hopes you don't, which is not rational. Of course, revenge usually isn't rational."

"First of all, what kind of legal danger is Hermione in?" asked Harry. He knew that she wasn't overly concerned about that, but he was.

"It's not zero, but it's very small. Legally speaking, I'd advise her not to confess what she's done in the Prophet, because without that there's no evidence of what she did. She exposes herself to a small amount of risk by doing this to protect you." Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked back at him sharply, clearly communicating that she would listen to no arguments from him. Noting their byplay, Dentus continued, "It's a very small amount of risk, Harry. Certain aspects of the situation help her: she was only fourteen, she reaped no personal reward from her actions, she was arguably provoked, and Skeeter was doing something against the law. The fact that she's recently performed great services for the wizarding world, is a close friend of yours, has been made Head Girl at Hogwarts, and will confess publicly to protect you are not directly relevant, but as political factors will definitely be considered. My professional opinion is that Hermione will suffer no legal consequences for what she's done. Every factor breaks in her favor."

Still not happy, Harry decided to press Dentus. "Archibald, if it were your daughter, would you advise her to do what Hermione's doing?"

Hermione gave Harry an annoyed glance, but Dentus smiled at the protective impulse behind Harry's question. "Yes, I would, Harry. Not because the legal risk is zero, but because I would want her to, and be proud of her for, taking responsibility for what she had done and protecting her friend who her actions helped put in danger, rather than thinking of herself first." Now, Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry in a 'see, don't argue with me' way, as Harry's face registered his unhappiness. "Sorry, Harry, I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But it is right. On that, I could keep an eye on it and make sure nothing untoward happens, but really, it won't.

"Moving on to the danger you face, Harry, what Hugo's doing for you will be extremely helpful, much more than anything I can do. After what he'll write, he's correct when he says that Skeeter will never write for the Prophet again. This is where his unusual magical ability helps you greatly: if he writes it, people know it's true, they have confidence in it. His stating as fact what she did is obviously not legal proof, but anyone who matters will be convinced. She may have friends, but anyone who's not a true personal friend will abandon her after that. They'll see the writing on the wall, even if she doesn't.

"Of course she can write the book or gossip about you to anyone she wants; there's nothing you, or I, can do about that. But Hugo is again right when he says that she'll be thoroughly discredited. If she had the Prophet as a mouthpiece, she could definitely make your lives miserable. As it is, I think she's going to focus her energy on the book, and maybe trying to find people in the Ministry who don't like you and whisper in their ears. But she will definitely be marginalized."

"Maybe she and Umbridge will get together," said Hermione. Harry wasn't sure whether she intended to be humorous or not.

"It wouldn't surprise me, actually," said Dentus. "She might go looking for Umbridge, figuring they could help each other. For all we know, she might have been at that dinner. If she was, she knows what I helped have done to Umbridge, and would tell her about it. In fact... the more I think about it, their interests dovetail nicely. If Skeeter could damage your reputation, Harry, it would make following through on the threat to Umbridge more difficult. That would help Umbridge's comeback, and she in turn could help Skeeter from within the system. I really do wonder if they've talked already.

"Don't worry, though, it's not going to happen that way, since Skeeter's not going to manage to do anything to your reputation, Harry. Hugo's article will be the truth, and it'll put her where she deserves to be. Unless something very strange happens-and don't worry, I'll keep my eyes open-she's the one whose reputation will take a beating."

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected Dentus to do anything in particular; it was more that they needed him for advice than anything else. To Harry's surprise, Hermione had an unrelated question. "Archibald, do you have an opinion on who's going to be the next Minister of Magic?"

Dentus smiled. "Now, there's a question Harry would never ask. He's told me that you read him things from the paper to keep him informed. Tell me, do you stay informed mainly to help him, or just because you want to?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a little bit of both. I just think it's a good idea to be informed, but I know it could help him too. Of course, he has you looking out for him in this way, so maybe it's not so necessary, but I do it anyway."

"No, it's good that you do," Dentus assured her. "There are some things I'd have to use my time explaining to him if you hadn't already told him, so I have more time to teach him about the whole system, what he needs to know. The more he gets exposed to this, the better."

"Listening to you two talk like this makes me feel like... I don't know, like I'm dumb and you're being nice and tolerant by helping me," said Harry. He felt mildly embarrassed, but recognized that both were trying to help him.

"Well, if you paid attention by yourself..." Hermione sounded almost apologetic, rather than condescending as she had at times in the past when saying such things. Harry wondered if it was because her ego had taken such a beating recently that she wasn't inclined to feel superior to anyone.

"Not dumb, Harry, just not interested. You're pretty smart, actually, I've discovered," said Dentus kindly. "You just need to know more than most seventeen-year-olds do. It's like, if you're rich, you need to know enough not to be swindled or robbed. You have political capital, and there are things you need to know so you don't get swindled out of it, so to speak, get taken advantage of. You do very well considering your age and your level of interest in the topic.

"As for your question, Hermione, I assume you ask because you know that the question of who the Minister of Magic is will affect Harry, important as he now is?" She nodded. "Of course you're right, it definitely will. As you've probably read in the Prophet, there are a few leading candidates, but there's one who I think has the inside track. His name is Rudolphus Bright, you may have seen his name in the Prophet."

"Just a little," said Hermione. "His name is one of the ones I've seen mentioned, but not as much as the others."

"Yes, I've seen that too," agreed Dentus, "but I think the political reporters are behind the story here. I'm sure Hugo would have him pegged as the front-runner if he did political reporting."

"Why doesn't he, by the way?" asked Harry.

"He did, a little, when he started out," explained Dentus, "but it didn't take long for politicians to realize that they shouldn't talk to him. He picks up so much, a lot more than they want him to. As I've said many times, politicians lie all the time, it's very routine. He didn't write explicitly that they lied, but the way he wrote things made it clear if you read between the lines. Even if he didn't write it, he easily figured out things politicians didn't want him or anyone knowing.

"Back to Bright, he's not written about so much because he's not as well-known as the others. He's younger, only forty-five, but he's a very, very smart politician with good instincts. He was one of the few not to jump into Fudge's camp with both feet when Fudge broke with Dumbledore over Voldemort's return. He didn't resign like I did, but he distanced himself from Fudge and the others, taking a short-term risk which has now paid off. Unlike Fudge, he's quick on his feet and a good speaker, and he has the appearance of conviction and sincerity."

"Do you mean by saying it that way that he doesn't have true conviction and sincerity?" asked Hermione.

Dentus gave her a small smile. "No, Hermione, I'm saying that he's so good, I can't tell. He's very good with people. When he talks to people, they always come away thinking, 'Now, there's a smart man, he thinks like I do,' even if his opinions are somewhat different from theirs. A good way of putting it is to say that he connects with people. A lot of politicians are either good with people, or good at political infighting. He's good at both. For example, Harry, remember that question Fudge fumbled when we met you in Albus's office? Bright would have told you exactly what you wanted to hear. He'd have assured you that only for the very best of reasons would anything similar be done, that the Ministry takes people's rights very seriously, and so forth. I'm not saying it wouldn't have been the truth, just that he would have known what to say.

"And while we're on the subject, Harry... since we haven't talked since Fudge was killed, I want to make sure you understand something: whoever becomes the next Minister of Magic is going to want to be your friend. Even if he doesn't ask you to stand with him in public and say what a great person he is, your influence will be such that any association with you will be to his benefit. You obviously have to be very careful with this. Not that you should keep your distance deliberately, but do what Albus always did: be pleasant, sincere, and judge them on their actions, not their words or their personality. If you can do that, you should be all right."

Harry nodded, and was silent as he tried to digest what Dentus said. Hermione asked, "Archibald, is it going to be a problem for you if Skeeter tells people in the Ministry that you're helping Harry? I assume most people don't know."

"Yes, I'd rather people didn't know that," agreed Dentus. "Not for my sake-I'd be even more influential if people knew I had Harry's confidence-but for Harry's. People would deal with me differently if they knew, and I couldn't give Harry as good information as I can now. I'm resigned to the idea that Skeeter will tell people, which isn't good. I didn't think to mention it because Harry has much bigger problems than that."

Hermione nodded ruefully. "Yes, he does, and every time I think of that I have to stop myself from saying, 'yes, and it's my fault.' I know Harry's getting tired of that."

"I don't know if this will help, Hermione," said Dentus sympathetically, "but in political terms, what you did wasn't all that bad. In a way, it's a lot like what I suggested be done to Umbridge."

She made a facial expression which was the equivalent of a shrug. "I suppose it helps a little, but I have to admit that the morality of what I did bothers me much less than the effect it's had on the people I care about. If Skeeter hadn't been exposed, and so come after my friends and I, I wouldn't be sitting around agonizing over the morality of what I did. I would have been relaxing and enjoying my summer."

"We learn by our mistakes," said Dentus. "One of the harder parts of life, I'm afraid. I know how you feel. I've had other people pay for my mistakes. At least Harry has friends, people who will do whatever they can to help. I have a feeling the damage from this won't be as bad as you've feared."

"I sure hope you're right, Archibald," Hermione said earnestly. "I want to thank you, anyway. You've been a big help."

Dentus looked mildly surprised. "Not really. All I can do is give you information and advice, watch your backs a bit."

"When you're under attack like I've been, like we've been, the past few days, somebody doing that for you is important. I really appreciate it."

"Me too, obviously," agreed Harry.

Dentus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "You're quite welcome. I'm happy to do whatever I can, I just wish it could be more." Having taken in Hermione's cue that they were ready to leave, he added, "Can I persuade you to stay for dinner?"

Hermione and Harry chuckled. "Harry and Ginny are going to the Golden Dragon tonight," Hermione explained. "It'll be the first time they've really been out together for a nice evening."

"Committed for life before even going out on a date," said Dentus, grinning. "You certainly deserve it. The Aurors are keeping the details of how the Apparation crisis ended classified, as well they should, but they did let it be known to the Ministry that you were 'instrumental' in bringing it to an end. Somehow, I wasn't surprised."

Harry gave him a self-deprecating smile. "Technically, they're right, but it's not quite how it sounds. There was a fair amount of luck involved. I'll tell you about it someday, after Voldemort is defeated."

"I'll bet there'll be a lot of interesting stories you can tell after he's defeated," said Dentus. "I look forward to hearing them." He stood, as did Harry and Hermione. "Well, I'll let you be on your way, then. Have a great time, Harry, and keep your chins up, both of you." They thanked him, and went back to the Burrow.

At twenty past seven, all the residents of the Burrow and Neville were sitting in the living room talking. The main topic of conversation was Harry and Ginny's dinner, despite Harry's two attempts to steer the conversation in a different direction. As Molly told everyone about an early date of her and Arthur's, the fireplace lit up. Tonks walked out, followed by Cassandra, who Harry saw give Neville a quick smile and nod.

"You're our security?" asked Harry, surprised that the two Aurors he knew best happened to be the ones assigned to watch him. "How did it end up being you two?"

"Why, we volunteered the loudest, of course," said Tonks matter-of-factly. "Do you think we were going to miss an opportunity to look over your shoulder on your first big night out? Providing security is such a great excuse."

"Don't worry, once you go into the restaurant, you won't even see us," assured Cassandra. "Although what's ironic is that if there's a serious threat, you'll be the ones protecting us, not vice versa. We'll be just conspicuous enough that people will know you're being... well, I was going to say 'protected,' but maybe 'watched' is a better word. We're there mainly so you don't have to be looking over your shoulders all the time."

"And we appreciate it," said Ginny. "Are we ready?"

"I guess so," answered Harry. He suddenly felt nervous, and wondered what had given him the idea to do this. You're just uneasy because you're doing something you've never done before, he told himself. Just relax. Focus on love, he thought, then smiled at the idea that such a thing would be necessary.

Ginny seemed to be reading his expressions. "It'll be fine, Harry, don't worry. We'll have a good time." She then leaned into him and whispered, "You don't have to impress me. You do that all the time, just by being yourself." He smiled, and impulsively turned and kissed her.

There was light laughter, mostly from the women present. "I'd love to know what that was," said a smiling Pansy.

"Harry can tell you sometime, if he wants," replied Ginny. Harry knew she expected him not to because of embarrassment. They said goodbye and headed to the fireplace; Molly walked over to give each a kiss before they left. Tonks went through the fireplace first, followed by Harry, then Ginny, and finally Cassandra.

As they walked through Diagon Alley, Tonks remained several feet in front of them, and Cassandra, several feet behind. They were in their professional mode, and Harry knew he shouldn't try to talk to them for the rest of the evening. He put an arm around Ginny as they walked, and she put one around him. "This feels strange," he said. "I haven't been out in public since... when was the last time?"

She thought for a few seconds. "The last Hogsmeade day, so almost three months ago."

"Sometimes I think I should go out sometime, but as someone else," he mused. "Have Hermione make some Polyjuice Potion, somehow find a hair or something from a random person. I could walk around and nobody would look at me, or react when they saw me. It's been so long since that's happened, it would be strange."

"All we have to do for that is go somewhere in the Muggle world," pointed out Ginny.

"That's true," he agreed. "But of course we can't for now, or at least we shouldn't. I always think of the department store. Don't want Muggles to get caught in the crossfire."

"I don't know," said Ginny, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if he's even going to try anymore. I mean, he loses people every time he tries. With the ones he lost to the Apparation thing, I don't think he'll be in the mood to take chances."

"I hope you're right," he said. Looking around, he added, "Funny, it's a Friday night, lots of people around, but I haven't been approached. Usually I would have been by now, by somebody all thrilled to meet Harry Potter."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Harry, I understand why you feel that way, but you have to remember, it's not just the Boy Who Lived that they're meeting anymore, but the one who stood up to Voldemort, the one who discovered the energy of love. Maybe you didn't deserve those reactions before, but you do now. You can't keep acting like people are being silly by reacting that way."

He reluctantly nodded. "I suppose so, it's just such a reflex. It's always been a struggle just to be polite, not to say, 'Oh, come on, just leave me alone.' I know it sounds really ungrateful, but..."

"I do understand, probably better than most people, just from seeing it happen to you so often," she said. "But as for right now, I'd bet it's because of our escorts. They're not exactly being subtle, so people might think twice about stopping to say hello."

" I guess that's the bright side of being guarded," joked Harry. Then he had another thought, and sighed. "It's funny, I say that, and then I feel bad because I think of what Albus would do if he were in my situation. He'd smile, be truly pleased that people felt that way, chat with them for a minute, that sort of thing. I'm just uncomfortable and hope they go away as soon as possible."

"You really shouldn't be holding yourself up to that kind of standard," Ginny responded, giving him a gentle squeeze with the arm around his waist. "Also, like you said, your reaction is kind of a reflex, because it did happen all the time when you hadn't yet done anything to deserve it. I think it's fair that you get some time to get used to it."

"Well, I am seventeen," he said, half-seriously. "I suppose I should be acting like an adult-"

"Now, that'd take all the fun out of life, wouldn't it?" asked a familiar voice from behind. Harry turned to see Fred and George; he and Ginny smiled and stopped walking.

"Don't worry, nobody will ever expect it of you two," Ginny assured them. "I think people would disappointed. I know I would be. So, you two just happened to be passing by?"

"Yes, indeed," agreed George with such exaggerated enthusiasm as to make it clear that it was a joke. "We just happened to be walking in the general area which is on a line between the Diagon Alley fireplace and the Golden Dragon at just before seven-thirty, for no particular reason." Fred nodded vigorously and innocently.

Smiling, Harry asked, "Ron told you?"

Fred and George rolled their eyes. "You mean, our brother, the Auror?" asked Fred.

"No, he's too busy showing off his robes to pay attention to your social life," put in George.

Ginny gave them a disapproving look. "Come on, he's proud of getting to wear them, I don't think anyone can blame him for that. And Harry and I are wearing them right now, why not make fun of us?"

"I'm just as happy I didn't have to bother with dress robes," Harry muttered.

"See, that's it exactly," said George. "Harry doesn't care. And as for you, you didn't come running into the shop the first day you could, all, 'Look at me! Look at my robes!'" George had adopted a high-pitched, mocking tone.

"Somehow, I don't think those were his exact words," said Ginny.

"It couldn't have been more clear, which you know as well as we do," replied Fred.

Harry felt that he should stick up for Ron. "Is it so strange that he'd be proud of it? It is an accomplishment. Learning those spells isn't easy."

Fred shrugged. "It was just the way he was being about it. Maybe you had to be there."

"Bet you had a good go at him," said Ginny.

Fred and George exchanged a look of regret. "Not really," said George.

"A little bit," added Fred. "But Mum had told us about him and Pansy, and we had decided, in an uncharacteristic fit of generosity, that we were going to go easy on him the first few times we saw him when he was with her. Also, she was wearing them too. She wasn't being like him, of course, but we still decided to hold back."

"Difficult as it was," agreed George. "No, we heard about you two from Mum, so we thought we'd come over and say hello. Since you never come 'round the shop."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Fred cut him off. "He's just kidding, Harry, we know you have to drag two Aurors with you wherever you go. No offense, ladies."

"It's more a matter of, I don't want to have to put them out all the time," explained Harry. "Combining that, the way I get recognized, and the fact that I have her," he gave Ginny a squeeze, "and the rest of my friends at the Burrow, it's easy to decide not to bother going out."

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat, you two, but it's almost seven-thirty, so you should be getting along," said George. "So, have a nice time."

"And be careful what you eat, I hear they have some strange food there," added Fred. With a cheery wave, they walked away.

Harry chuckled and shook his head as they started walking again. "I wonder if those two are ever going to change."

"Or, worse, what if only one of them did?" suggested Ginny. "We're so used to them being practically the same, it would really be strange if one of them got more serious and one stayed the same. Or, if one got married and one didn't."

"They could find themselves a pair of twins to marry," said Harry. "They should have dated Parvati and Padma."

"Well, you and Ron already did that," teased Ginny.

Harry winced slightly at the memory. "Those weren't really dates," he said, embarrassed. "We didn't even want to go, I only got a date because I absolutely had to. We hardly paid attention to them after the first dance. I feel pretty stupid thinking about it now."

Ginny shrugged. "It doesn't seem very fair, making a fourteen-year-old boy go on a date if he doesn't want to. You know, thinking about that... I don't say this to make you feel bad, but I was really hoping you'd ask me. Even if it had been because you couldn't find anyone else, I still would have been really happy."

He felt even more embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

"It's okay, I'm glad you didn't, now," she said, taking his hand. "You didn't want to be there, and you wouldn't have paid any attention to me, either. It would have been really bad for me. It's like you said about your childhood; whatever I went through then was worth it because of what I have now." She looked at him and smiled, managing to communicate that what she'd said last had been an understatement.

He returned her smile as they approached the restaurant. "I'm really glad you feel that way," he said. Tonks entered the restaurant, but didn't hold the door open for Harry and Ginny; he assumed she wanted to keep her full attention ahead of her, not looking back for a second unnecessarily. Harry pushed the ornate door open and went through first, holding it open for Ginny to enter behind him. He immediately wondered if he should have opened it and let her go first, as he had seen people do in Muggle movies, but she had no reaction suggesting he should have. I have to learn things like this, he thought.

He turned his attention to the restaurant's greeter, who took a look at him and gaped slightly before recovering. "Hello," said Harry uncertainly, "our reservations were made by-"

"Mr. Shacklebolt, of course," the man said smoothly. "Please come this way, Professor, ma'am." As they moved to follow him, Harry and Ginny exchanged a look; her face registered amusement and incredulity. 'Ma'am?' she mouthed. Harry grinned at her, realizing it had to be the first time she had ever been called that. He turned his head forward and followed the man. As Harry walked, he couldn't help but gawk at the chandeliers and the artwork on the walls; again, he had no experience with this sort of thing except what he had seen in the Muggle media. It struck him that it didn't look all that different from what he had seen there, except that some of the artwork depicted dragons, unicorns, hippogriffs, and other magical creatures.

They were led to a table in an alcove, mostly shielded from the view of other diners. They sat, and were given menus. "Please summon us when you are ready to order," the man said, and moved off.

Just as the man moved out of sight, Harry realized he wanted to ask a question. He turned to Ginny and asked, "How are we supposed to summon them?"

"You just tap the table with your wand," she explained. "Apparently it works this way at all nice restaurants."

"I suppose you're going to have to explain things like this to me," he said, embarrassed at his lack of understanding of such things. "I probably would have just sent my dog for them."

She laughed at the thought. "That would have worked, too. I'd almost ask you to do it, just to see what they'd say. They'd probably compliment you on how cute it is."

They opened their menus, Harry looking nervous. "Wow, they really do have lots of things. I haven't heard of half of this stuff."

"Don't pay attention to what Fred and George said, Harry," she chided him. "Of course, that should go without saying, in any situation... anyway, don't worry about it, just order what you want. You don't have to order something exotic and fancy just because we're here. Just look for something you know you like. You can always experiment when we come here some other time."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you think we'll be coming here again?"

"I don't see why not," she replied as she looked at the menu. "Not so often, obviously; this place is pretty expensive. But once in a while, we could probably afford it."

His brow furrowed as he looked at the menu. "Speaking of which, I don't see any prices here. I thought they usually had them on menus."

"You wave your wand over an item, and it shows the price," she explained.

"Of course, I should have thought of that," he chuckled. He held his wand over the lamb dish he was looking at. Suddenly a shining gold Galleon appeared on the right of the page next to the entry, with a black '9' in the center of the Galleon. "Nine Galleons?" he gaped.

"Well, it is the most expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley," she said reasonably, as she waved her wand over various menu items. "That seems to be about the average price for an entree. Obviously you shouldn't think about the price, Harry. The whole point of coming to a restaurant like this is that you know you can afford it. That's part of the reason you have to use your wand to see the prices, so you don't have to think about it if you don't want to."

"I guess that makes sense," he agreed. "Funny how you have to explain everything to me."

"And I've never even been here before. I have been in nice restaurants, just not this one. Of course, Mum's been here, and she told me a lot about it. She said that when she was there, when you tapped the table with your wand to summon them, they'd Apparate to your table. It was a point of pride for them to be there instantly. Of course they can't do that these days, but I bet they still get here pretty fast. It's just little things like that, providing the best service they can. Also, they don't use house-elves, which some restaurants do. And all the plates, silverware, and so on are real."

Harry was puzzled. "Real, as opposed to..."

"Conjured," she replied, as he made an 'oh, of course' face. "You can't tell the difference, which is why most restaurants conjure everything like that; it's more convenient, because it doesn't have to be washed, it can just be Vanished."

"So many things about wizarding life I still don't know," he remarked. They were silent for a minute as both studied their menus. Having made their decisions, they put away their menus, and Harry tapped the table with his wand. A man who Harry estimated was in his late fifties, with short black hair, a round face, and a seemingly permanent smile, appeared in less than ten seconds.

"Good evening, Professor, Miss Weasley. I am Rupert Wilmington, the manager of the Golden Dragon, and I will be serving you. We are truly pleased to have you here this evening. Are you ready to order?"

"Uh, yes, thank you," said Harry, unaccustomed to being treated with such deference. Still smiling, Wilmington took their orders, then asked, "Will you be having wine, or ale, with your meal, Professor?"

Ginny smiled as Harry's eyebrows rose. "That's right, you're seventeen now, you can have that if you want," she reminded him.

He thought about it. "I'd kind of like to," he said to Ginny, "but the thing is, we could be called, we could have to Disapparate out of here on a second's notice. I wouldn't want to go into that kind of situation after drinking a glass of wine or something like that."

"I don't think one glass of wine or ale is going to get you drunk, especially if it's with a meal."

"Maybe not, but it could slow me down," he said reluctantly. "I've been in enough of these situations where a second can make all the difference that I'd rather not risk it."

"But you could be called any time," she argued. " Are you not going to drink alcohol for the rest of your life?"

Harry sighed. "No, not for the rest of my life. Just until Voldemort is defeated."

He saw a combination of sympathy and irritation in her face and tone. "You have to live a life, Harry. You have to do things that people do."

"I do," he replied. "I have you, remember? I thought I would never do that. But that was important, so I did it. Drinking alcohol isn't important." His expression became more serious. "Lives could depend on me. You know that. Just last week, Hermione and Neville... that just happened suddenly, nobody expected it. Something could happen again." He looked up at Wilmington, who regarded him politely, though his smile appeared to have faded somewhat. "Just water, please." Looking back at Ginny, he added, "After he's defeated, I promise to come back here and have wine, ale, or whatever."

Wilmington's expression was now serious; Harry had the impression that it was not a face he often showed to customers. "I look forward to that day, Professor, with great anticipation. We will be very pleased to have you back." He took Ginny's drink order, then retreated.

Ginny looked at him sadly. She extended her hand across the table, and he took it. "I love you so much," she said.

He nodded. " I love you too." They looked into each other's eyes, lost in the moment and in each other's love. Then, looking around, he said, "What I said was right, though. I never thought I would do this."

"You mean, eat in such a nice restaurant?" she teased him, looking around as he had been.

"That, too," he chuckled. "No, I never thought I would let myself fall in love. I thought that would have to be one of those things that had to wait until he was gone. I had no idea how strong it was, that it couldn't be put off. It was like, I just got swept away."

"And I still can't believe sometimes that I'm the one who swept you away," she said, her face showing both her love and her wonder at what had happened.

"I, on the other hand, have no trouble believing it," he countered. He drifted for a minute, lost in thought. Then he saw her giving him a quizzical look, asking him without words what he was thinking. "I was just remembering my conversation with Neville and Hermione, at the end of the shift where we got the three Death Eaters," he explained. "They had spent most of that time talking, after they had seen his grandmother in the Pensieve. They had a lot to work out."

Ginny cut in while Harry was between sentences. "I know, she told Pansy and I a lot about it last night. We talked for, like, three or four hours, we were up pretty late, since it was the first night that all three of us slept there since this whole thing started. Anyway, she especially talked about the things she did wrong, how she wants to change. She felt so awful about what had happened. Not just bringing Skeeter down on us, but what she had done to Neville that she hadn't realized was bad."

He nodded. "Yes, she talked about that to me too, while he was there. I guess they figured that since I'd seen what was in the Pensieve, I knew about it anyway, so it didn't matter. Anyway, one thing she said was that she and Neville had never really thought about what their relationship was like, because they'd never had to, they'd never had any problems big enough to need to. She said you and I had probably never had a conversation about it, and I said we hadn't. For some reason I was just thinking about that, wondering how we would describe our relationship. I mean, if we had to analyze it, like they've had to."

"Interesting question. No, we haven't had to. It's much more fun just to experience it," she said with a smile. Then, turning more serious, she continued, "One of the things she said to us was about how she had all the power in the relationship, until she was afraid of losing him." Harry nodded to indicate that she'd said that to him as well. "So, with us, you obviously had all the power. You're Harry Potter, you've done amazing things. Over a hundred girls signed that scroll, you could have had nearly any girl you wanted. As for me, maybe a few boys were interested, but there was a huge imbalance, even if you wouldn't have thought of it that way.

"Then, all of a sudden, it evened out when we had the Joining of Hands done. I don't think you looked at it this way, but you just gave up that power, you handed me an equal share. Now, I can't leave you, but you can't leave me either-"

"But I was never going to," he interrupted, "so nothing really changed. I knew I would never leave you, so I didn't really have the power in the first place, if it was just from the idea that I could leave you more easily than you could leave me."

She shook her head. "No, you still had it; the fact that you would have never used it doesn't change the fact that you had it. It was like a basic fact in the situation. I couldn't know for a fact that your feelings wouldn't change. I worried that they would, so I was insecure, and I might have acted in ways that reflected that, even without you doing or feeling anything different. I might have given in more easily in arguments, done things to defer to you, afraid that you might stop loving me. It's based on what was in my head, not yours. Anyway, after the Joining, it was equal. I didn't have to worry or think about that anymore, I could feel more comfortable, be myself without fear of losing you even if I happened to upset you. It's funny, because I think you just saw it for its value in being able to see each other in our hands and talk to each other at a distance. It changed our relationship in a really basic way, which you didn't even realize."

"Because from my point of view, it wasn't really a change," he pointed out. "So if it was a change, it was one I couldn't see." Now he smiled. "I'm just glad it was one that was so good for you."

"It was really good," she agreed, "but for both of us, in a way. If I had acted on my fears and not stood up for myself, I could have acted in ways that actually damaged our relationship, caused problems, problems that now won't happen.

"As for the rest of our relationship... it's hard to say, really. It's amazing to think that we've only been together for four months, it seems like longer. Maybe because it's been so intense. But I wonder if problems are the way you find out what your relationship is like, and we just don't know yet."

"In that case, I hope we never find out," said Harry, half-seriously.

"We will, unfortunately," she said. "Remember what Albus said, every relationship has problems. But whatever they are, we'll deal with them, I'm sure of that." Then she smiled and added, "Now, we have no choice."

He smiled as well. "That's all right with me."

They stopped talking for a moment as Wilmington came to their table with their drinks, hot hand towels, a small basket of bread, some butter, an assortment of cheese, and several different types of crackers. As he walked away, Harry said, "That's funny, I don't remember you mentioning any cheese."

"I think it's like the bread, just something they bring with every meal," she suggested. "I'm not completely sure. It's fine with me, though. I like cheese and crackers, and we don't get it that much at Hogwarts." He shrugged, and they started helping themselves.

After a few bites of cheese, Harry said, "I wanted to ask you about that thing with Fred and George, before we got here. Don't you think they were being a little..." He searched for a word, then gave up. "...not very nice, about Ron?"

She nodded. "Yes, I thought so, too. I mean, I'm sure they were right. You know how Ron can be, you remember how he was in third year, sorry, it would be your fourth year, telling that silly story about fighting the merpeople, or fifth year, he couldn't stop talking about the last Quidditch match. He can get a bit overexcited, a little obvious about how pleased with himself he is about something. I would think most people would be tolerant of that, and be happy for Ron. But it did really seem to annoy them."

"They couldn't be jealous of him, could they?" wondered Harry. "I mean, they've never wanted to be Aurors, or do anything but what they're doing."

"No, I don't think they're jealous. If I had to guess... I'd say that they reflexively disapprove of anything Percy-ish, and maybe they've sometimes wondered if Ron had a bit of Percy in him. Maybe they just have a sore spot about anyone who seems to be bragging. Or, maybe it bothers them more than they'd admit that they don't have Mum's approval, and Ron was showing off exactly the kind of thing she'd be proud of."

"Wish they'd give him a break," Harry grunted. "They don't know the half of what he's been through."

"That's true," she agreed. "Speaking of which, there's something I wanted to make sure you knew that I knew. Like I said, we talked about a lot of stuff last night, and some of it was the stuff in the letters Skeeter sent us. Hermione already knew, of course, but Pansy told me about what was in the letter Skeeter wrote Ron. She told me what happened."

Harry's eyebrows went high, which she noted. Answering his unasked question, she continued, "I think it was partly because she wanted to talk about how it affected her relationship with Ron, and she trusts me. Also, she knows it's not going to be private for very long anyway. Even if Skeeter doesn't get to write in the Prophet anymore, Pansy's sure that it'll be in the book she writes about you. I'm sure she's right."

Harry felt both sad and disgusted. "Yes, she is," he agreed. "That's exactly the kind of thing Skeeter would love. And what's worse, she'll write it so that it'll look like maybe it was something Pansy wanted to do, like she did in Ron's letter."

Ginny nodded. "Pansy said that, too. Skeeter is just so sickening, we all went on about that for a while. Anyway, Pansy said she wanted me to hear it from her, and also that it was better that I know because knowing has been a burden for you, one you couldn't talk about with me. She feels kind of bad now that she made you know, she's sure you'd rather not have known."

"That was my reaction at first, but I felt bad for having it. Maybe it is a burden, but I wasn't upset at her for telling me. If it made her feel better, then it was the least I could do. She did so much for me."

"Yes, she did. I was extremely grateful to her for doing it, of course, and I told her that. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be here right now, and my life would be infinitely worse. But I can really understand why she didn't want to tell Ron, to burden him with that. She said... I don't think she'll mind that I tell you this, but it's probably better if you don't mention it to Ron... she said that she was in kind of a hurry to do that sort of thing with Ron once they got together, and he was a bit surprised, that she was being so forward. Not that he was reluctant, she said."

"I can imagine," he said, smiling a little. "I assume she did it because she wanted to have a memory of that kind of thing which was actually pleasant."

"Yes, exactly. Let me ask you, you had to be the one to tell him, since she wasn't there when we got the letters. How did he take it?"

"Better than I expected," he said. "He wasn't angry at her, he just wondered why she didn't tell him. I think he kind of knew, though. I hadn't thought of it this way before, but the fact that he wasn't mad at her is kind of a compliment to me, that he wouldn't question her reason for doing it. He must have seen it as something she had no choice about."

"She didn't, of course," said Ginny. "Hermione and I would have done it too, we both told her. Awful as it was, there just wasn't any real choice. And the idea of how Skeeter's going to write about it... it's like, I feel bad for everyone these days. For Pansy, for that... for Neville, for all he had to go through, both from her and from the Death Eaters... for you, for what will happen... and for Hermione, for just everything. This weighs on her so much. I don't think ten minutes goes by these days when she doesn't think about it. And the worst thing is, it's not going away. I mean, thanks to your getting that hair from Skeeter, she can't listen in anymore, but for as long as she lives, there'll be someone out there who won't pass up an opportunity to hurt Hermione or the rest of us, to make her or us look bad. No wonder Hermione wishes she were dead."

Concerned, he asked, "Do you think she really does? I mean, she said that thing about stepping on her, but I figured that was just because she was angry..."

She looked at him sadly. "Harry, Hermione's in a constant state of anger, of embarrassment, of frustration, right now. There's just a huge amount of emotional pressure on her. I think I could barely function if I was her. But yes, she does mean it. I know it's not good, she knows it's not good, she just can't help it. It's how she feels." She paused for a few seconds, thinking. "Right now, as we speak, she's sitting with McGonagall, telling her the story of what happened. She's told it twice already, and this'll be the hardest one. You know how she feels about McGonagall. Imagine if you'd had to tell a story like this about yourself to Albus, while he was still alive."

Harry could imagine it. "I just hope McGonagall will be as compassionate and understanding as he would have been."

"That's asking a lot of anybody," pointed out Ginny, "but I know what you mean. Yes, I hope she is, too."

They were silent for a few minutes, lost in their thoughts, eating the last of the cheese. Then Harry asked, "Did you ever get your O.W.L. results? I thought they usually came by the end of July."

"The O.W.L.s were delayed," she reminded him. He nodded somberly, remembering the reason, and the memories it stirred. "So, the results would be, too. But yes, it should be any day now."

They stopped talking as their food arrived. They talked only sporadically as they ate, discussing routine topics such as Hogwarts, Harry's schedule, and the fact that Harry would likely take only five N.E.W.T. exams. He joked that if he became the headmaster in the future, he would probably hold the record not only as the youngest headmaster, but also the one with the fewest N.E.W.T.s. She pointed out that if he remained until he was the same age as Dumbledore, it would be offset by another record, for the longest tenure as both headmaster and staff member.

After they finished, Wilmington came by and cleared away the dishes, then asked if they wanted any dessert. Both were full, but wanted to try something, so they settled on splitting one. Asked if they wanted coffee, they both decided to give it a try, never having had it before.

They ate their dessert slowly and talked. After they finished, she took his hand. Smiling, she asked, "Do you think we'll remember this night when we're old people?"

He chuckled. "If I don't, it'll mean that I've lost my memory, because it's definitely memorable. It's strange to think about being old, I'm barely used to being an adult."

"You should grow a beard, so you can look like Albus when you get to be that age," she joked.

"I don't know... I don't see myself as the type to have a beard, for some reason."

"I'm sure you'll be handsome whether you do or not," she assured him. "So tell me, when do you think we should get married?"

He reacted with surprise. "What made you think of that?"

She shrugged. "Thinking about us being old people, somehow that made me think of how many years we'd have been married at that point. Also, if tonight's memorable, then we should discuss something that'll be memorable."

"I don't know," he said. "But I haven't even asked you yet. I thought I'd, you know, get a ring, maybe get down on one knee like they do in the Muggle movies, that sort of thing."

"Hmmm, that sounds nice," she grinned. "But you don't really need to ask me to marry you, you know. You've already done that." To his slightly surprised look, she continued, "You did it when you said, 'I want us to get the Joining of Hands done.' That was your marriage proposal, even if you didn't realize it."

He smiled. "I guess so. Maybe I would have phrased it differently if I'd known. The way I said it doesn't sound very... I don't know, memorable."

She gripped his hand tightly. "Harry, you don't have to get down on one knee, or use a memorable phrase to make me happy. Like I said before, just be yourself. That's all I'll ever want from you."

Slightly embarrassed but very happy, he said, "I think I can do that." He paused, then added, "But I'll also try to remember to Vanish the furniture I conjure."

She smiled broadly. "That'd be good, too."

He felt a sudden impulse to kiss her, but she was across the table, and he felt awkward about moving enough to do it. He settled for giving her a loving look, which she returned.

Wilmington approached their table, holding a folder. Harry wondered if it was the bill, though it seemed too large to be that. "Professor Potter, Miss Weasley... The Golden Dragon has been in operation for over a century. There is a tradition which we have had for quite a long time, and we try to continue whenever possible. Normally, we do this only for married couples, but since you have already had the Joining done, we feel it safe to make an exception in your case."

He opened the folder, and handed Harry what at first he thought was a piece of paper. As Wilmington handed one to Ginny as well, Harry realized that it was a photo-a photo of his parents sitting at what was obviously a table at the Golden Dragon. As was usual in wizard photographs, the figures were smiling, moving, and occasionally waved at the camera. Harry saw his father at one point pat his stomach, obviously to indicate that he felt very full. He saw his mother laugh. He felt emotion rise up, and he looked up at Wilmington. "Thank you very much."

Wilmington's normal smile was gone; he looked sincerely pleased at Harry's reaction. "We had been hoping to see you here," he said gently. Harry nodded his appreciation, and looked at Ginny's picture of Arthur and Molly as she looked at his. She again took his hand, knowing what he was feeling.

"And now," said Wilmington, "if you would be so kind, we would very much like to take a photograph of you, for... well, who knows?"

Ginny beamed. "We haven't thought of names yet, but we'd be very happy to." She and Harry moved closer to each other as another man came in, holding a camera. Suddenly, to Harry's great surprise, Fawkes burst into view a few feet above Wilmington's head, no doubt in full view of all the customers. He fluttered down and landed on Harry's shoulder.

Ginny looked at him in surprise. "Did he decide to do that, or did you ask him to?"

"I think he did," Harry replied, "but sometimes it's hard to tell. Maybe I would have wanted him in the picture, but I just hadn't thought of it. You know how it is, a lot of times he knows things I think before I do."

"Phoenixes are most impressive," commented Wilmington, "as are those with whom they bond." He gave a small smile and slight shrug of apology in response to Harry's embarrassed look.

Ginny smiled at Harry in a teasing way. "I'd definitely agree with that." He smiled back, and they faced the camera, hands held on top of the table. The man with the camera took a picture, then another. He thanked them, then withdrew. Harry leaned over and kissed Ginny. "You know, that kiss may show up in the picture," she said.

"By the time our children are old enough to see that picture, they'll have seen us do that a lot," he predicted. "They'll just say, 'that's Mum and Dad, even back then, they were always doing that.'"

"I see you plan on setting a good example for our children," she said happily.

"A very good one," he agreed. "Thank you, again," he said to Wilmington, as he and Ginny stood to leave.

"We are most pleased to have had you here," Wilmington assured them. "And as to the matter of the bill, Mr. Shacklebolt, when he made the reservation, requested that it be sent to the Aurors. Thank you for coming. We hope you have enjoyed your evening."

"Very much, thank you," said Harry, as Ginny nodded in agreement. Wilmington shook hands with both of them, and they made their way to the exit. With Fawkes on his shoulder, Harry was aware of the eyes on him that he hadn't noticed when he had come in. As he stepped out into the cool evening air, a hand in Ginny's, he held up the photo for another look.

At nine-thirty, Harry stepped out of the Burrow's fireplace right behind Ginny to see everyone in the living room. They were greeted with smiles, as Pansy said, "Well, come on, we want to hear all about it." Harry looked for an empty chair, but before he could find one, the fireplace lit up again. To everyone's surprise, Kingsley stepped out.

"Hello, Kingsley," said Arthur, who then noticed Kingsley's expression, which was serious and grim. "What's going on? Did something happen, something about their dinner?"

"Something happened, but it was nothing to do with their dinner," answered Kingsley. "I have some... important news, something that happened while Harry and Ginny were at dinner. About an hour and a half ago Rita Skeeter was killed, at her home."

Harry was stunned, speechless; a look around showed that others were as well, especially Hermione. He had never seen her look so surprised.

"How?" asked Arthur.

"Whoever it was used the Killing Curse, then escaped by Disapparating and then taking a Portkey, in the same way that was done by the one who killed Fudge," said Kingsley. "And... there's another similarity to Fudge's murder: it appears that this killer used Polyjuice Potion as well."

Kingsley looked at Harry sympathetically; Harry felt a chill go down his spine without being sure why. "At seven forty-five, fifteen minutes after Harry and Ginny sat down to dinner, three witnesses saw someone approach, then enter, Skeeter's apartment. When later interviewed, they all said that who they saw was Harry. Whoever killed Skeeter assumed Harry's appearance before doing it."

Harry's mouth hung open. Even though he knew that he had not done it, he felt an irrational stab of guilt at the thought that someone who looked exactly like him had. "Why would they do that?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Solemnly, Kingsley replied, "I think there are going to be a lot of questions about this that we don't know the answers to, and many of them will begin with the word 'why.' Now, there's something we should all talk about, but before we do, I'm waiting for someone else to arrive. I sent a request for Hugo Brantell to come here; he should be here any time."

"Why did you call him?" asked Neville.

Kingsley looked around the room, meeting everyone's eyes. "Because this is kind of an uncomfortable situation for all of us, and there's a cloud looming that I'd like to get rid of as soon as possible. I'm sure it's occurred to all of us that Skeeter's death is rather... convenient for everyone here. The plain and simple fact is that the most logical suspects are in this room, and that includes me. Neville, Hermione, you remember that this afternoon, I said, 'Skeeter knowing this is unacceptable,' and three hours later she turns up dead. Now, I know that I didn't do it or have it done, and I don't think for a second that any of you did either. But before we proceed any further, I'd like us all to be comfortable with the idea that nobody wonders if anyone else had anything to do with it. Hugo can help us do that."

Harry looked at his friends, and he could tell they felt the same way as he did. "Kingsley, we trust each other, and we trust you. It's not necessary-"

"I know that, Harry, this is just for the sake of certainty," responded Kingsley. "And besides, how do you know it's not me? I'm the likeliest suspect, after all. I-"

"No, you're not," said Hermione quietly, still looking stunned.

Kingsley shook his head. "You're number two, Hermione, you're less likely than me. You were with McGonagall when it happened, and somehow I don't think you have connections to hit wizards. You have lots of motive, but no opportunity. I, on the other hand, happened to be alone at the time. I have an excellent motive, and I have opportunity. I've killed before, it's something I can do if I have to. I could have snuck up behind Harry when he was on ready status during a shift and snipped a few hairs, he never would have known. Not only that, I could recite chapter and verse on why killing Skeeter was an excellent idea, one that I could entirely justify. She knew too many things, she could have endangered the whole anti-Voldemort movement. My moral qualms about killing wouldn't have stopped me if I thought it was really necessary.

"Now, it just so happens that I didn't, but I would be more comfortable if you all were certain of that. Having Hugo do this can stop even the stray thought from occurring to any of us, so-" He cut himself off as the fireplace lit up and Hugo stepped out.

He turned to Kingsley. "What's happened?"

Kingsley told him, then explained what he wanted from Hugo. Hugo's discomfort was plain. "Kingsley, I really don't like to use my talent this way. I'm not an investigator, and-"

"I'm not asking you to be one," Kingsley assured him. "As I said, this is just so we can all eliminate the thought. This is totally unofficial. Take in everyone here, and if anyone doesn't like the idea, then don't do it, you don't have to say who it is."

"I wouldn't anyway," responded Hugo. He surveyed the room for a few seconds, then sighed. "Nobody minds. Nobody thinks it'll change much; everyone's comfortable with the idea that nobody in the room knows anything."

"Okay," said Kingsley. "What questions do you need to ask?"

Hugo chuckled. "I don't need to ask. Everyone here is shocked, surprised, confused. If anyone knew anything that by telling would shed any light, it would appear to me like a brilliant beacon. Nobody here did it, nobody told anyone they weren't supposed to tell, nobody has the first idea who did it."

"Okay, Hugo, thanks. But I wonder, would you be willing to stay around for a few minutes? You're pretty clever, I'd like to know what you think."

Hugo looked impatient. "Remember, this is strictly unofficial, but all right. But first, you ought to check me, too. I was one of the ones who knew."

"We can't check you," Kingsley pointed out.

"Harry can," said Hugo.

"Hugo-" started Harry, but he was quickly cut off.

"I know, Harry, you'd rather not. See, this is how I felt. But do it anyway, I'd like Kingsley to know for sure. This is important to him, he'd really like to know who did this."

Kingsley grunted. "So I can give them a kiss on the cheek."

"Okay, but I've never checked for lies before, just found memories," Harry said.

"It's not that different," said Hugo. "Just ask a question, and focus on the answer. If the person lies, you should get a glimpse of a memory that contradicts the lie. Try it with me, ask me some simple questions."

Harry nodded. "What color socks are you wearing?"

Hugo smiled. "Dark blue."

"Right. What did you eat for dinner?"

"Spaghetti."

"Hmmm... I'm getting an image of chicken, I think. Is that right?"

"Yes, very good," said Hugo. "Now ask a few conceptual questions, ones not associated with visual images."

Harry thought for a minute. "Do you like being a journalist?"

"Yes, I do."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-seven."

"I think that's a lie," said Harry. "It feels like you're remembering how old you are, but I didn't catch the number."

Hugo nodded. "As you get better at it, you will. But that should be enough for now. Go ahead and ask me the questions about this."

Harry took a deep breath, unhappy to be doing it. "Did you tell anyone about the situation with Hermione, or Skeeter's threats against us?"

"No," replied Hugo.

"Do you have any information which, if we knew, would help us figure out who did it?"

"No."

Harry nodded. "That should be enough, right?"

"Yes, Harry, thank you," said Kingsley. "Now, the next question is, who outside of this room knew about Skeeter's blackmail threat?"

"Only one person, Archibald Dentus," said Harry. To Kingsley's raised eyebrows, Harry added, "He's been a friend since the ARA passed, helping me with political stuff. But it couldn't have been him anyway, because of the Polyjuice Potion. Whoever did it needed a bit of me, and he's never had the opportunity to get that. Even if he told someone, they couldn't have impersonated me. Also, he only found out three hours before it happened, which would be hardly enough time to do anything."

"Okay, let's look at that part more closely," suggested Kingsley. "Aside from someone sneaking up on you and clipping hair, which is impossible for you to know, who could have had access to enough of you to make Polyjuice Potion?"

After a few seconds of silence, Harry had a sudden thought. "Voldemort... the night he came back. He had Wormtail take some of my blood to use in the cauldron, to bring him back."

"But he used it all, didn't he?" asked Ginny.

"There would still have been some blood left in the vial," Harry pointed out. "Would it have been enough to make Polyjuice Potion? Hermione?"

Looking distracted, Hermione returned her attention to the conversation. "Hmmm? Oh, yes, I think it would have been enough. All you need is a tiny bit."

"Would he have really kept the vial, though?" wondered Ron.

"It doesn't seem likely, but you never know," said Kingsley. "The fact is, the idea that the killer is a Death Eater is our default hypothesis, since it was done in the same way as it was with Fudge. You can construct a reasonable narrative around it: you can say they impersonated Harry because she had just written an article about him, a largely favorable one, and she would've let him into her apartment. Even if they didn't know about your group's situation with Skeeter, which they wouldn't, it's still a reasonable device to get near her. It all works, except for motive."

"They could have wanted to implicate Harry," suggested Hugo. "That could be the primary reason for choosing him to impersonate. Of course, it doesn't work, because he can just take Veritaserum and he's off the hook. It could damage his reputation a bit, just the appearance of it... could that be worth it enough to them to bother?"

"They wouldn't even have to give me Veritaserum," Harry pointed out. "At least a couple dozen people saw me at the restaurant."

"That could have been an impostor, for all they know," said Kingsley.

Harry shook his head. "Fawkes showed up near the end of the meal. That's pretty good proof that it was me." A thought occurred to him. "You don't suppose that's why he showed up, do you?" he asked nobody in particular. "He somehow knew I had to be positively identified?"

Harry expected Hermione to answer, but Hugo did instead. "We do know that phoenixes often do things that turn out to be a good idea, even though they couldn't really have known at the time. It seems possible."

"Mentioning the restaurant brings up an interesting point," said Kingsley. "Harry hardly ever goes out in public these days, partly because he doesn't want to inconvenience us. Which I've been meaning to have a chat with him about," he added, giving Harry a stern but affectionate glance. "You really should get out more, it's good for you to be seen in public. It emphasizes the idea that you're defying Voldemort. Anyway, the timing is pretty amazing: it happens just as Harry goes out for the first time in months. Either it was Death Eaters trying to implicate him, and they got really unlucky, or it was someone friendly trying to make sure he wasn't implicated. This brings us back to the idea that it was an Auror, or an Order member. But any competent Auror-and they all are-wouldn't have to impersonate Harry to get close to Skeeter; we're trained in how to infiltrate a home or building unseen by means other than Apparation. An ordinary apartment like Skeeter's would have been child's play for an Auror to get into. And the problem with it being a non-Auror Order member-like McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, and so on-is that they have no motive, since they didn't know that Skeeter was threatening to compromise classified information."

He paused, and there was silence for a minute. "It all keeps coming back to this," concluded Kingsley. "If it's not Death Eaters, the only people with motive are the ones who knew about Skeeter's blackmail threats. And those-"

He stopped talking as a face suddenly appeared in the fireplace; Harry looked over to see Dentus looking back at him, and everyone else. "Excuse me for intruding," he said, clearly surprised to see so many people. "I was calling for Harry, but it's not hard to guess what's going on. I just now heard what happened. Kingsley, Hugo, I gather you're the only people besides myself who knew about Skeeter?" They nodded. "Harry, the main reason I called was that I wanted to assure you that I told no one about our discussion, not even my wife. I knew you wouldn't think it anyway, but I wanted to tell you personally. I imagine that you're all trying to work it out, and not having much success?"

"No, we're not," agreed Harry. "And you're right, I didn't think you did, but I appreciate your calling to tell me that. We were just getting around to the idea that whoever did it didn't know about Skeeter's blackmail, even though it seems kind of unlikely."

"Indeed," said Dentus. "Very peculiar. Well, I'll let you get back to it, then. I'm not a very likely source of information for something like this, but I'll let you know if I hear anything. I'll be in touch." Dentus's head vanished from the fireplace.

Kingsley looked at Hugo. "I suppose you wouldn't tell me if I asked."

"No, I wouldn't," confirmed Hugo. "He didn't give his permission. But you're a smart man, Kingsley, you don't need me to tell you everything." Not understanding what they were talking about at first, Harry realized that Kingsley wanted Hugo to confirm Dentus's truthfulness, and Hugo didn't want to.

"I suppose not," Kingsley conceded. "Well, strange as it seems, the notion that Death Eaters did this has to be considered the most likely hypothesis, barring any new information. I'm heading back to headquarters, see if anything comes up in the search of her place, any kind of evidence. I doubt there will be, though." He said goodbye and left, followed soon by Hugo. Harry was alone with his friends, and Arthur and Molly.

Molly stood, followed by Arthur. "Well," said Arthur, "I guess this is one of those times when life is like a centaur. We're going to bed. Good night, all."

"Don't stay up too late," added Molly as she followed Arthur up the stairs, and the six were alone.

Harry looked at Hermione, who seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. "What does that mean, 'life is like a centaur?'"

Hermione continued staring, giving no indication that she heard Harry. He was about to try to get her attention when Pansy answered. "It's a phrase based on the idea that you can never get a straight answer out of a centaur, they're very mysterious and secretive. It kind of means, life has mysteries, sometimes you have no idea what's going on. It does seem true now."

Harry couldn't help but agree. There was silence for a minute, as everyone digested what had happened. He turned to Ginny and hesitantly said, "You know what this kind of reminds me of..."

"Percy," she said, and he nodded. "Yes, it's a very different situation, but I see the similarity. It's in the idea that we don't feel how we're 'supposed' to feel. In that situation, we were supposed to feel sad for ourselves, but we didn't, we just felt sad for Mum and Dad. Here, we're supposed to feel sad just on principle, even if only a little, but instead, we feel... well, not happy exactly, but..."

"Like she got what she deserved," put in Ron. "And relieved, that we don't have to go through what we thought we were going to have to. But, like with Percy, that isn't the 'acceptable' feeling, so we feel like we're... kind of stuck, somehow."

Pansy ran a hand over Ron's shoulders and upper back. "Like I said in the notebook to you that night, we feel what we feel. Considering what we've been through with her, I don't think anyone would blame us for not being sorry that she died."

Ginny took Harry's hand. "How do you feel?"

His first thought was that he wasn't sure he knew. "Confused, I think. Like I'm in a fog, or something. I guess what Ron said makes sense. This thing that was hanging over me isn't anymore, and I'm happy about that, just not happy about the way it happened. What really disturbs me is the idea that somebody friendly did this to protect me. In a way, I find myself hoping it was Death Eaters. Also because then I don't have to think about how someone got a hair from me, or whatever."

"If somebody friendly did it, I don't think the reason would necessarily be to protect you," suggested Neville. "The fact that she knew stuff she shouldn't have was a far better reason. But I see what you mean. While all that was going on, I had this thought, like, what if it was retaliation for the letters? What if, for example, Cassandra was really angry at Skeeter for how the letters affected me, and... not that I thought she would actually do it, and then I remembered that she and Tonks were protecting Harry at the restaurant, so it couldn't have been her anyway. But I could definitely understand why you feel that way, Harry. I really didn't like the idea when I thought of it." Neville looked at Hermione, who again seemed to be staring off into space. He touched her cheek; slightly startled, she looked at him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "I feel like Harry said he felt, maybe even more so. Maybe it's a very thick fog. It's just... such a shock..."

Looking around at the others, Harry thought they were thinking the same thing as him-that this would have a stronger impact on Hermione than any of them. He had been in the most danger, but it was she who had carried by far the greatest emotional burden. Now Skeeter was dead, something for which Hermione had actively wished. He wondered if she felt responsible, and he felt like he wanted to say something to her to assure her she wasn't, but he was afraid that if she wasn't thinking that, then his saying it would just cause her to do so.

They stayed downstairs for another half hour, talking in subdued tones, mostly covering ground already explored during the conversation with Kingsley and Hugo. Hermione said very little; Harry, only a bit more. Then they went upstairs, including Neville, who had moved his things over from his Auror guest room while Harry had been at the restaurant.

The boys wordlessly changed into their nightclothes and got into their beds. Harry lay in the silence for five minutes, his mind drifting. He thought about asking Fawkes to sing, but he didn't feel it was quite necessary. Then he had another thought, and made a request of Fawkes. Within a few seconds, he could faintly hear phoenix song coming from the girls' bedroom.

He felt his hand tingle, and rolled over in his bed so that his back was to Ron and Neville. He held up his left hand and looked into his palm. "That was very thoughtful of you," said Ginny. "I'm sure she appreciates it."

"It's just... hard to imagine what she's going through right now," he said, whispering so softly he could barely hear himself, but knowing she would hear it.

"I know what you mean," she agreed. "Our bedroom door is just open a crack, I think yours is too... why don't we open them completely, you three will be able to hear him better down the hall."

He agreed, got up, and walked to the door. Opening it all the way, he looked out into the hall and saw Ginny doing the same thing. On making eye contact, they immediately walked toward each other and kissed, with an unusual energy and urgency. He wasn't even sure why; he fleetingly wondered if it was a feeling of needing each other more in an emotionally charged situation. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied, the feeling as clear in her eyes as from her words. They kissed again, then went back to their rooms. Harry lay down and started his Occlumency exercises, phoenix song clearly audible through the open bedroom doors.