Harry Potter and the Ring of Reduction

Chapter 16

Voldemort's Hand

The next day being Saturday, Harry had his usual training with the Aurors, though it was cut short by an hour to allow Harry and Neville to return to Hogwarts for the memorial service for those who had died. Afterwards, they returned to eat with the Aurors, then have the energy-of-love session. Harry gave them an abridged account of what he'd told the History of Magic class, with special emphasis on the parts having to do with the energy of love; he wanted to emphasize that Dumbledore had felt that there were very negative consequences to feelings of anger, and using the Killing Curse.

Harry spent most of his time on Sunday finishing up his Ring of Reduction. There was supposed to have been a Quidditch practice, but McGonagall had called off all practices for a week, out of respect for Thomas, and the desire not to choose a new Slytherin Seeker so soon after his death. Continuing work on his Ring, Harry wasn't interrupted until three-thirty, when he was called by Snape for a session.

Snape viewed recent memories; enough of interest had happened since the previous session that that took up the time necessary. Snape finished by viewing Harry's presentation to the seventh years on Dumbledore. Putting down his wand, Snape commented, "Ironically, I could have given a much more detailed and accurate lecture, though of course without the emotional content of yours. From my experience doing this with the headmaster, I am intimately familiar with the events of which you spoke."

Harry could well imagine that. "But you probably found it annoying, all that agonizing he did over something that you would consider obvious."

"I would not say 'annoying,' but rather, something very far outside my experience. It was useful as a way to understand how he thought, and I was not unmindful of the fact that had he not been the person he was, he would not have been able to assist me as he did. I only became impatient when what he did had an effect in the here and now, in the struggle against the Dark Lord."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Snape had probably seen Voldemort the day before, when Harry had been with the Aurors. "Speaking of which, how is the ol' Dark Lord, anyway?" he asked flippantly.

Snape gave Harry a very disapproving look, as though he were tempting fate. "Before you used his name to mock him; now you use the phrase 'the Dark Lord' to do so. As you obviously surmise, he is most displeased, though his expectations of the success of this operation were not high."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "His opinion of me must be going up, if he sends five supposedly world-class assassins after me and doesn't expect them to do the job."

"They were not the best in the world," clarified Snape. "The very best would not take the assignment, because of the uncertainty of the timing, the fact that Hogwarts is a secure environment which does not allow for Disapparation, and your reputation for surviving. A Death Eater told me that one potential assassin, when approached, said, 'If the Dark Lord wants Potter dead so badly, he should do it himself.'"

Harry couldn't keep a grin off his face. "Bet he loved that."

Snape nodded. "It is precisely the sort of attitude that he wants to avoid. In your lecture to the class, you were quite perceptive in noting that this is a weakness of the Dark Lord's, the fear and awe in which he insists on being held. It interferes with his goal of power, with operational priorities. Speaking of which, I thought I would inform you that the headmistress and I agreed that I would inform the Dark Lord of your reference to him as an..." Snape paused, obviously uncomfortable with even quoting something so insulting to Voldemort, "...'unbelievable moron.' It has spread around the school to such an extent that it will undoubtedly spread outside, and he would find out eventually. Since I obviously would have heard it, it was better that I tell him."

Harry had heard that his comment was being widely quoted, and that it was starting to be used by students with each other if one said something another thought was stupid. "Is that the kind of thing he really wants to know?" Harry wondered, surprised.

"He wants to know of any disrespect to him, so he can take punitive action if he chooses to," said Snape. "He has not given specific instructions that disrespect from you is not to be quoted. His reaction to what you said was... understated, but clear."

Harry smiled a little, imagining it; then he had another thought. "Is Voldemort a 'shoot-the-messenger' type?"

"I am not familiar with the reference, no doubt Muggle, but I gather the meaning. Fortunately, no, that is not one of his weaknesses. Your concern, however, is most touching," said Snape dryly.

Harry chuckled. "Thanks, I'm glad you appreciate it. So, does he believe that there's such a thing as the energy of love now?" asked Harry.

Snape shook his head. "He accepts that you have found a new type of magic; the evidence supporting that is overwhelming. He does not accept that it is based in love, even given your success in teaching your friends and three others. I have told him of your methods of teaching it; naturally, he sneers at it." I hope he keeps sneering, thought Harry. "He speculates that the true source of the power is something which is transmitted accidentally along with the teaching."

"Boy, talk about a blind spot," said Harry in wonder.

"Keep in mind, though, that many in the Ministry did not believe it at first, either," pointed out Snape, "and they were not nearly as invested in disbelieving it as the Dark Lord. I myself might not have believed it were it not for my experience with the headmaster; it is only because he found love such a source of strength that he could be the person he was, as you explained to Professor Dentus's class.

"There is one unfortunate development which has arisen in the wake of this event," continued Snape. "You recall that the Dark Lord instructed me to find a way to kill you, and only the headmistress's actions prevented him from making it a matter of urgency. Now, he has made it such a matter, deciding that your elimination is a higher priority than the possibility of my becoming headmaster."

"That's not good," said Harry solemnly. Deadpan, he added, "I guess you'll have to kill me, then."

Snape rolled his eyes. "It is a serious matter, your macabre humor notwithstanding." At Harry's blank look, he sighed. "Perhaps Professor Smith has a point when he says there should be some non-magical instruction at Hogwarts. Your vocabulary is sadly deficient."

"I'll ask Hermione the next time I see her," he joked. "But John'll be happy to hear that you said that. Anyway, obviously I know it's serious. Is there a deadline?"

"He is at work acquiring an artifact, one that he is sure will do the job; he said he will have it for me before winter holiday ends. So, one could say that the deadline is roughly mid-January. After that, if I have not made an attempt, he will want to know why. I do not yet know the nature of the artifact, so I cannot know if a plausible excuse to avoid its use exists."

"But probably, you'll have to leave Hogwarts, right?" asked Harry.

Snape nodded. "Unfortunately, yes, it likely cannot be avoided. Exactly what will be done, again, cannot be known until we know more about the artifact. But the most likely scenario involves my 'capture' and imprisonment."

"What if Professor McGonagall-" began Harry, but Snape cut him off.

"No, it will do no good, as I have already explained to her. The Dark Lord is determined; even if she were to die tomorrow, he would not change his plans."

"Too bad we can't fake my death," mused Harry. "Well, this is pretty bad. Maybe we'll get lucky, and something will happen in the meantime to change the situation."

"It is highly doubtful," said Snape in an admonishing tone, as if it was irresponsible of Harry to get his hopes up. "In addition to the more important problems the situation poses, the headmistress must soon search for a new Potions master."

"I forgot about that," said Harry. "She can't start looking yet, of course. I guess we can't do much until after vacation. So, is there anything else you think I should know?"

Snape nodded, and reached for a small box on a shelf above his desk; he put it on the desk nearest Harry. "These are Mr. Zabini's personal effects, which will be sent back to his relatives. There are a few things I thought would interest you, in the folder on the top."

Puzzled, Harry took the folder and opened it. To his surprise, on the top was a Harry Potter Chocolate Frog card. Below that were articles obviously clipped from the Prophet; the one on the top was from April of that year, detailing his escape from the Chamber and his discovery of the Killing Curse shield. Looking through the articles, he saw that all featured him prominently, and were in chronological order. He was fairly sure that they were all of the articles the Prophet had written about him; the one written by Skeeter was there as well. Harry looked up at Snape, who was wearing a satisfied smirk. With sudden discomfort, he knew what Snape thought; as for himself, he wasn't sure what to think.

"I don't think this means what you obviously think it means," said Harry defensively. "Lots of people have my Chocolate Frog card. A couple dozen students asked me to autograph ones they'd got over the summer."

"Odd that he did not ask," commented Snape. "What is also odd is that in his belongings there were no other Chocolate Frog cards, only yours. I am given to understand that the chances of getting any particular card in one package are less than one in five hundred."

Harry wondered how Snape knew that. "It was one in twenty when they came out," he pointed out.

"He would not have purchased it then," said Snape. "You will note that the articles date from Easter, after the last of the others had... departed. While they were there, he no doubt felt that his belongings could be searched at any time by the others, and would not want to have risked them finding such a thing."

Harry thought that Blaise could have bought cards on vacation in January, left them at home, and brought this one in when the term started in September, but then the question became, why only Harry's card. He found himself becoming annoyed with Snape. "It could have been that he just admired me. After all, it was in trying to kill me that the four people who made his life miserable ended up leaving Hogwarts, it's no surprise that he should support me."

"It is not impossible," agreed Snape, still wearing the smirk.

Harry sighed, getting more and more annoyed. "And even if it does mean what you think it means, I don't care."

Snape's smirk became even more pronounced. "You mean, you wish you did not care. You clearly do. As Professor Dentus once pointed out to you, your feelings show very clearly on your face."

Harry was not happy to have a memory Snape got from their sessions used against him in that way. "Do you really want to be having Schadenfreude at my expense? I thought we both knew that wasn't helpful."

Now Snape's smirk vanished, and he became serious. "I am trying to make a point. This causes you great discomfort, for a reason. If there were nothing wrong with this, we would not feel such revulsion at the prospect. Tolerance of this sort of thing only leads to suffering."

Only if both parties aren't willing, Harry thought, but didn't say. He realized he had to be careful around Snape about the topic, as it had caused Snape to violate the understanding they had once already, and he didn't feel like getting into a fight with Snape, especially over this topic. Snape was being deliberately provocative, but Harry knew he didn't have to respond to the provocation, and that it was better that he didn't. "I think I should probably go," he said, standing. He waited a second for Snape to object if he wanted to, but Snape said nothing, so Harry walked to the door and left. Please, he thought as he walked away, if any boys at Hogwarts touch each other again, please let me not hear about it.

* * * * *

Phoenixes on their shoulders, Harry and Hermione walked out of the staff room the next afternoon, heading to the Charms classroom. "Not much conversation in there today, was there," she remarked.

"Sometimes there isn't," he replied. "I guess people are still pretty... whatever, over what happened on Friday. I still can't believe McGonagall got those owls." McGonagall had told the staff that she had received a few dozen owls over the weekend criticizing her for what had happened. "I mean, it wasn't like she opened the gates and let them in."

"Yes, but people don't know how it happened," pointed out Hermione. "It was a hard decision Professor McGonagall had to make. Parents, both of those who died and those who didn't, deserve to know how it happened. But operational security has to come first, and it's better if Voldemort doesn't know that we know how it happened. So Professor McGonagall gets stuck between her responsibilities as headmistress and as a leader of the Order."

"Ironically, if they knew what happened, they would blame Albus," said Harry. "It was on his watch that the Dimensional Door was put there, and it probably wouldn't have happened if he had routinely searched all of the sons of Death Eaters whenever they re-entered Hogwarts, like most parents would now have preferred he had."

"McGonagall wouldn't have searched them either," said Hermione.

"I'm not so sure," responded Harry. "She's done a few things that Albus wouldn't have done. I know she wouldn't like it, but she's not an absolutist, like he was. If she thought the need was dire enough, she might have done it. Yes, she defended what he did last year, but then, so did we."

"Maybe you're right," she conceded. "By the way, you just used his name in the past tense."

Again, he hadn't noticed. "I think I do when I'm thinking of him as doing things in the physical world, as opposed to how he thinks and feels. He can't do things in the physical world, or won't, but he's still around."

They reached the classroom, and took their usual seats. "So, this is everybody?" Harry asked Pansy, who was sitting next to him.

She nodded sadly. "This is the whole class, nine people. It feels strange."

"Not as strange as sleeping alone in your dormitory," suggested Ron, turning in his seat in front of Pansy.

"That's true," she agreed. "By the way, this is also strange, but... last night, about a half an hour before I went to bed, Blaise showed up in my dormitory."

Harry could see that the others were as surprised as he was. "What was he doing there?" asked Ron.

"He was kind of in a corner, like he was trying not to disturb me," said Pansy, clearly not bothered. "When I saw him, I called to him, and I talked to him a little. He apologized for going in there, he said he'd never seen a girls' dormitory before, and wondered what it looked like. I said it looked pretty much like the boys' dormitories."

"I just hope he doesn't start wondering what the girls' shower looks like," said Hermione, looking a little nervous.

"He didn't stay long, but I did take the opportunity to do something I'd been meaning to do," continued Pansy. "I apologized to him for what I'd done to him before. I meant to do it while he was alive, I just never found the right time. But at least I got to do it. When he died, one of the things I was thinking was that I wished I had."

"How did he respond?" asked Neville.

"About like you'd expect," she said. "Kind of nervous, but he seemed to appreciate it. He left soon after that, fortunately; I didn't want to have to ask him to leave. Now I kind of wonder what his Ring was going to be. Probably he hadn't finished it; I don't think anyone had by last Friday. Well, except you, of course," she grinned, glancing at Hermione.

"I kept changing it a little up until yesterday, but yes, I was pretty much finished last week," admitted Hermione. "I wanted to get it out of the way, to study for the exams in the other classes. And I had to make exams for the first and second years, that was interesting, but-" She cut herself off as Flitwick entered the room and walked up the steps leading to his platform behind the podium.

Flitwick led them in a moment of silence in memory of the five Slytherins in the class who had died on Friday, then announced that he would be inspecting the students' completed Rings. "Remember, if I cannot enter it, points will be taken off. It should be set so that anyone can enter. After I have inspected it, you should change the charm to only allow yourself or close relatives entry unescorted." With a small grin, he added, "I will begin with those of my fellow professors. Hermione, yours first, please." Hermione walked up to the front of the class as Flitwick walked down the steps to the floor; she bent over and handed him her Ring.

As she walked back to the others, Neville said, "Okay, we have to decide who goes with Harry to see his, since we're all pretty keen to."

"Especially since by making it two-by-two instead of one-by-one he did more work on it than he had to, which I think is a homework first for him," teased Hermione. "Let's flip a Galleon for it." Amused, Harry watched as Neville won the flip between he and Hermione, and Pansy the one with Ron. Pansy won the final flip, and with a smile, walked over to Harry and took his hand after he placed his Ring on the floor. He took a small handful of Floo powder, threw it down, and stepped on the Ring, saying, "Harry Potter!"

They were inside, and looking out at a vast expanse consisting of green grass and clear blue sky. Nothing else was visible except the wall near them, and two brooms floating in midair a few feet from the door. "Wow," marveled Pansy. "I forgot that you could make it bigger than the usual dimensions. How big is it?"

"I ended up deciding on three hundred meters in each dimension," he said. Letting go of her hand, he took one of the brooms and handed it to her. "You know the dimensions have to be the same, it has to be a perfect cube."

"I assume that's a Hover Charm keeping the brooms there," she said.

"Yes," he said, taking the second one. "There's also a Summoning Charm in the same spot, so when we finish and go to the next door, they'll come back here."

"Good idea." She looked at the broom she'd been handed. "Is this your Firebolt?" she asked, very surprised.

He nodded. "I was planning to buy a couple of cheap brooms to keep in here permanently, but I hadn't got around to it yet, so I'm using mine and Ginny's for now. I assume you've guessed the purpose of this room?"

"To practice flying," she answered, "that's why you made it so big. Ron's going to love this, he'll love the idea of practicing even if it's raining outside." She and Harry mounted the brooms, and they kicked off and flew toward the other side of the room. "I would fly around with you for a while," she said, "but I guess I have to remember we're in a class, so we shouldn't take any more time than we have to."

"Yeah, I was thinking of Ron when I had this idea," he said. "I wanted to do a few more details, like maybe some clouds, but I was kind of pressed for time as it was. I was thinking that maybe during vacation, I would do some copies of this, one-room Rings just for this purpose. I could work on little things like that, maybe give one to each House so people could practice flying anytime they wanted."

Pansy chuckled. "You're funny when you're naive. McGonagall would never allow these to be in the common rooms. You may not have noticed, but these could be used for purposes other than flying, and since only two people can enter at once, they couldn't be supervised."

"You're right, I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "Maybe I could find a way to make it so that wouldn't be a problem. I really thought it would be great for flying practice." They slowed down as they approached the door to the second room. "Do you think these are ever made with that purpose in mind?"

"Maybe that's a part of the book that Hermione didn't get to before she stopped reading," joked Pansy as they dismounted their brooms. "Anyway, this room was a really good idea. Very practical."

They let their brooms fall to the floor as they stood in front of the door to the next room; the brooms immediately zoomed away to their destination near the other door. "After you," he said as he gestured for her to go ahead.

She touched the door, and it opened. They stepped inside, and their environment was suddenly very different. There was still grass under their feet, but instead of a clear blue sky, there was a sunset in the distance, or what looked like the distance. And instead of total quiet, as there had been in the first room, there was phoenix song. "Oh, Harry, it's beautiful," gushed Pansy. "Is that... oh, my, is that both of them I'm hearing?"

"Yes, it was really good of them. I kind of hesitated to ask, because it seemed like a frivolous reason. But at the same time, this was important to me, and of course Fawkes and Flora both knew that. They sang together for about fifteen minutes; I set it so it repeats after it's done. The recording isn't quite the same as it is in the real world, but it's still pretty good."

"It's great," she assured him. "And now I'm definitely starting to think about other purposes for this room; I'll be wanting to come back here with Ron sometime."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Of course, Flitwick will get these when we're done, but there may be a way around that. I made two copies of this, one as a backup just in case. Maybe I can do a little touch-up work on the backup, change a few things."

"Maybe sand instead of grass," she suggested. "But this is really nice... I guess we should move on to the third room, though, unfortunately. I could stay here for hours."

He was very pleased with her reaction. "It's not really my doing, though; most people don't have access to phoenix song."

"That's because most people don't get chosen. Now, stop being modest and we can move on." He feigned meek acquiescence, and they walked to the center of the room, then turned left, then walked straight again until they were in front of the door to the third room. This time he opened it, and it was dark, except for a spotlight in the center of the room. They walked straight ahead, and stood in the light together. The light suddenly moved off them, to a spot two meters in front of them. An image flickered into existence; it was Harry. As the real Harry watched, he found it odd to be looking at himself. The image spoke.

"This message is for my children, I should say, my future children, since obviously I don't have any right now. I'm seventeen, the same age I assume you'll be when you see this. It's strange; as I speak, my future is very uncertain, but I have to speak as though Voldemort is defeated, since if he's not, there won't be any children to see this message. So, for right now, I have to assume that's what happened.

"I wanted to leave this message because... I don't know, I thought maybe you'd like to see what I was like when I was the age you are now. I would have liked to see my father like this. Of course, it would be different, since I never knew him, but with any luck I'll still be around by the time you see this. Still, since I know that any children I have who go to Hogwarts will see this, it seemed like a good use of a room.

"As I record this, it's the middle of December of my seventh year at Hogwarts. Voldemort keeps making attempts on my life, I think there've been... eight so far, it's hard to keep track. The last one was a few days ago. The hardest thing about these is that they put my friends in danger, and people get killed. This time, fourteen people got killed. Everyone's told me dozens of times that it's not my fault, that I'm doing what I should be doing in fighting Voldemort. I know it's true, but what you know doesn't make what you feel much different. I've been through so much already, sometimes I feel like I'm a lot older than I am.

"My friends get me through it, though. Of course I mean Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Pansy, and Neville. Whatever I've done, I could never have done without them, I know that. I couldn't have even discovered the energy of love, because I wouldn't have had anyone to love. I hope, I pray, that they're all still around by the time you see this. I really want them to be a part of your lives." Pansy smiled at Harry and took his hand as they watched. "And I wish you could have known Professor Dumbledore. He was so amazing when he was alive, and he still is now; it's a great comfort to have him to talk to every night while I sleep. He may have died, but he hasn't stopped looking after me. And obviously, I need all the help I can get right now.

"I'll probably have a lot of stories to tell by the time you see this, and maybe I'll have already told you a lot of them. It may seem like an exciting time, as someone said to me recently, but I can't wait for it to be over. That's because the one thing that comes along with this whole experience is death. From Albus, I know that we continue to exist after we die, but we miss and mourn the people who died, and I've just had enough of it. I want so much to go for even a whole year and have no one I know die of anything but natural causes. It doesn't seem like so much to ask for.

"Well, that's what my life is like right now. Pansy once said it was like someone turned the volume of my life all the way up, and it does feel like that. The good things are really good, and the bad things are really bad. I probably couldn't deal with it if not for what Albus taught me, and the others' help. I imagine that when you watch this, my life will be very routine. If so, the next time you talk to me, remind me of what I said here, and to appreciate it. Maybe I'll just say, 'I do, believe me.' It just seems like a good thing to keep in mind.

"I'll stop here. I just want to say, I may not know you yet, but I know that I'll love you. And I hope you'll like working on your Ring; I know I did. It kind of makes you think about what's important to you. In these four rooms... there's flying, which has always made me happy even when not much else did. There's Fawkes, in the second room, someone else without whose help I wouldn't be here. In this room, there's you, who I know will be an extremely important part of my life one day. And in the fourth room... well, it's kind of self-explanatory. Take care of yourself, and everyone around you. I love you." The image disappeared.

Eyes brimming with tears, Pansy turned to face him. "You're going to be such a good father," she said, squeezing his hand for emphasis. Harry smiled, remembering that Ginny had said exactly the same thing when he had shown her the completed Ring the night before. They walked ahead, to the entrance to the fourth room. Pansy put her hand to the door, and it opened.

They walked in to see a completely empty room; all that could be seen was a lit area five feet in front of them. They walked forward and stood in it, and the room suddenly came to life. They were in the shack on the island to which Vernon had taken Harry, Dudley, and Petunia when Harry started receiving the letters inviting him to attend Hogwarts. Hagrid was standing near a very small Harry, just eleven years old. "Yer a wizard, Harry," he said. Harry glanced over to see Pansy smiling at the astonished look on the young Harry's face.

The scene shifted; not instantaneously, but the old scene faded out and the new one faded in quickly. Harry was on the Hogwarts Express, meeting Ron for the first time. Then came his first conversation with Dumbledore, in the room with the Mirror of Erised. There were memories, usually about ten to fifteen seconds each, of important events of his third and fourth years, involving Lupin, Sirius, Cedric, and Voldemort's rebirth, ending with Dumbledore's speech about doing what was difficult and right rather than what was easy and wrong. The next two minutes were memories of events of the past year and a half, focusing on the Aurors, the other Hogwarts professors, and the Slytherin second years.

The next thing they saw was Harry coming out of Gryffindor Tower and finding Pansy waiting outside. "Oh, Harry, I'm glad it's you. I want to talk to you. I want to help you." The real Pansy glanced at Harry in surprise as the scene shifted again, to a memory from a few days later, of Pansy insisting on helping Harry undercover despite Harry's objections and concerns. They then saw themselves in Dumbledore's office, him thanking her for saving his life after the Goyle attempt. The scene dissolved to Harry wishing the unconscious Pansy a fast recovery after Malfoy's attack, most of his speech in the Great Hall about what she had done, then finally to the applause she received the next day, after recovering from her injuries. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she put an arm around Harry and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I want them to know what you did," he said quietly. "What all of you did, what you've done for me."

The next group of scenes involved Neville: his confronting Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they set out to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone, and his ten points that won them the House Cup; his attempt to help Harry at the Department of Mysteries; his dueling victory over Malfoy, his and Harry's training with the Aurors, and what he said to Harry after the attack in Dentus's fireplace.

There followed similar scenes involving Ginny, Hermione, then Ron, taking a minute to a minute and a half for each person. Finally, there were scenes featuring Dumbledore, including his duel with Voldemort, his performing Harry and Ginny's Joining, and his final goodbye to Harry before the June confrontation with Voldemort. From there, the scene changed to Harry's conversation with McGonagall at the staff social event about how Dumbledore would be remembered. That scene faded to a still image of Dumbledore as he appeared in the phoenix place; he had included it because while he wasn't supposed to show scenes from that place, the still image alone didn't give evidence of where it had come from. The image remained for five seconds, then faded, and the room was empty again. Harry and Pansy silently walked forward and opened the last door, stepped through, and were suddenly in the class again.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville looked at Pansy for her reaction. Smiling, Hermione produced a packet of tissues and proffered it to Pansy. Pansy took only one tissue, saying, "You'll need them later." Hermione assured her that she had more.

Flitwick came by, saying, "That took longer than I would have thought. Well, I'll be next, then." Harry occupied himself by looking at Neville's Ring, followed by Ron's, then Pansy's. Soon after he exited that one, he saw Flitwick appear, just having finished viewing Harry's. He smiled at Harry and said, "It's quite... memorable. How will you be locking it?"

"Actually, I wanted to have you test that," said Harry. He waved his wand at his Ring, then said, "Okay, it's in place. Would you do me a favor, Professor: try to enter, but when you do, also point your wand at it and do the 'Blue' spell silently." Raising his eyebrows, Flitwick did so, and was unable to enter. "Okay, that's what I thought would happen," said Harry. "Now, Hermione and Neville, I want you to try. Do the same thing that he did. If you get in, just go ahead and view it." They did, and both successfully entered the Ring.

Flitwick nodded, impressed. "The measuring spell," he surmised.

"Yes," confirmed Harry. "So, you can get in by being a close relative of mine, or by being able to use the energy of love. Well, or by getting 100 without using the energy of love, but that's really rare. Also, if two people go, both of them have to be able to use it. Anyway, that's going to be its final lock. At least for this year, anyone who wants to try to enter it can do so."

"I imagine people may try to do it, if only to see whether they've reached 100," said Flitwick, who then moved on, inspecting Ron's next. Harry chatted with Ron and Pansy; Ron tried to get Pansy to tell him what was in Harry's Ring, but she refused.

"You're going to have to find out for yourself," she admonished him. "But I'll get an extra tissue packet from Hermione, you might need it."

"Somehow I think I'll hold up okay," said Ron humorously.

They chatted for the next ten minutes, then suddenly Neville and Hermione appeared. Neville looked as though he had just been crying, and Hermione still was. Seeing Harry, she smiled, and sent him her feelings through Flora and Fawkes.

* * * * *

Four days later, Harry and Hermione took their usual seats in the staff room after eating lunch. "No, it's hardly unexpected," said Dentus, obviously continuing a conversation that was in progress before they came in. "I'm almost surprised that this didn't happen until now, really." Looking over at Harry, he explained. "In the wake of last Friday's attack, Professor McGonagall has come under increasing pressure from parents regarding Hogwarts' security."

"I received a scroll this morning," continued McGonagall, "signed by fifty-nine parents, asking for a meeting as soon as possible. They want me to respond to their concerns about security. The letter hints that they may withdraw their children from Hogwarts if they are not satisfied with my answers."

"Damn," muttered Harry, frustrated. "Don't they know that their children aren't especially safe anywhere, these days?"

"They do," agreed Dentus, "but unfortunately, it can't be denied that Hogwarts is a particular target..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Because of me," Harry finished for him. He looked down, thinking, then looked at McGonagall. "Are you going to meet with them?"

"I believe I have little choice," she said, resigned. "Perhaps not all the parents who signed this would remove their children, but it is likely that some would. In addition, the fact is that they do deserve some kind of answer. Five percent of all Hogwarts students were killed last week; it is not as though their concerns are unreasonable."

"Yes, but there's nothing that you've done that you shouldn't have, or that you shouldn't have done that you did," Harry pointed out. She shrugged lightly in response, conveying that as true as that was, it was also irrelevant. Harry could understand that; he wondered how he would feel if he were a parent. "Okay, well, I should be at this meeting, too. After all, it's because of me that this is happening."

"The school allowed you to start your crusade," replied McGonagall. "As Professor Dumbledore was fond of pointing out, the headmistress is responsible for everything that happens at Hogwarts, whether it is in her power to control or not. We could have stopped you from doing what you have done. Not that we should have, but the concerns of the parents have to be addressed, and you do not bear ultimate responsibility for what has happened."

"Yes, but if I may," suggested Dentus, "it would be, in any case, an excellent idea for Harry to be there. Not to absolve you of responsibility, of course, but to remind parents of the greater struggle we face. Also, to remind them that Harry can provide a certain amount of security-"

"I don't want him providing security!" snapped McGonagall. "I want him being secure!" There was silence as a few teachers looked at McGonagall, surprised. Calming down, she glanced at Dentus in apology; he nodded. "It's just that, as you know, I've also been criticized for attempting to send Harry to Auror headquarters as soon as we found out. I do recognize that were it not for his disregarding my instructions, more people almost certainly would have died. He must be protected, at all costs. But how do you explain to a parent that their child may be one of the costs?"

"Professor," said Harry, very serious, "I do understand. But I did what I did because it was what I could live with. You know how I am about this; I'm going to do the same thing if anything like this happens again. Since that's the case anyway, we might as well tell the parents that. It may be difficult for you to say that, because you want me protected at all costs. But it wouldn't be difficult for me to say. I really should be there."

"There is another benefit of him being there," added Dentus to McGonagall. "To put it rather bluntly, his presence may shame some of the parents into a less aggressive posture."

"Is that really going to work anymore?" wondered Harry. "I mean, parents are going to say, he's got the shields and the Imperius Charm, and he's really strong, so he's not in that much danger, but my child has none of that, and is very vulnerable."

Dentus shook his head. "A few might, but most aren't going to think that way. Nobody forgets that when you started defying Voldemort, you had none of those things. Nobody forgets what you withstood, to do it. You're still a symbol; your presence would remind parents that we are in a fight, and that we have to fight and not put our heads down. I understand how they feel, but if they start pulling their children, it'll be an encouragement to Voldemort."

"It's a lot to ask of anyone, though, to leave their children in danger as a point of principle," said Flitwick. "I think we have to persuade them that their children will be safe at Hogwarts."

"You mean, I have to persuade them," corrected McGonagall. "Very well, Harry, you may attend. Yes, Hermione?"

"I was thinking, Professor, as a professor and one of the ones who can use-"

"I was planning on only taking the Heads of House," interrupted McGonagall, "but I suppose you do have a point. You may attend as well. You can assure the parents that you will keep Harry safe as he keeps their children safe. By the way, Harry, you will probably have to answer questions about teaching combat flying. Two of the owls I received mentioned it; some parents may think that you are attempting to convince their children to take part in a dangerous battle. I know that is not your intention," she said quickly, heading off his objection, "I am just telling you what a few may think. You may want to emphasize that you are teaching it only to those who are seventeen, or who may be seventeen by the end of the term."

Harry found that he hadn't thought about parents disapproving of his teaching combat flying because their children might want to take part in a battle. He had felt as though he was helping people by preparing them for a battle they would want to fight anyway, but he wondered how many might participate now who wouldn't have before.

"Oh, Harry, what Hermione said reminded me," said Sprout. "You're doing the testing this week, how are they doing? No new 100's, I suppose?"

"Afraid not," he replied. "Some people are getting very close, though. Hedrick had 99, and Augustina, 97. All three Creeveys made big jumps; they're all in the low nineties. Oh, and this morning, I had your Hufflepuff fifth years; some of them had pretty big jumps. You said they were doing their own sessions, right?"

She nodded. "And the third years."

"Yes, they did well, too," he said. "And the Creeveys are part of a group of Gryffindors of a few different years who asked Ginny to help them with their own sessions. So it looks like people who had their own sessions had much more improvement than the ones who didn't."

"That may get more groups going," said Sprout.

"Archibald, I wanted to ask what you thought of that analysis article in the Prophet this morning, about people getting angrier about the Death Eaters," said Hermione. "I know you probably don't have firsthand knowledge of this, but do you think it sounds accurate, or like there's a 'point of view' to it?"

"That's the one that said that the Ministry was considering giving Aurors permission to kill, right?" asked Sprout.

Dentus nodded. "I'm not sure, Hermione. If I had to guess, I'd say it was pretty accurate. They've been ramping up the killings lately, including the ones this week. That kind of attitude doesn't surprise me at all."

Harry was grateful that Hermione had read him the article, so he knew enough to comment. "But what that article didn't say was that being able to kill is going to make almost no difference at all to the Aurors, it's not going to make people any safer. There are very few situations where incapacitating isn't enough, where killing is necessary."

"That may be, you'd know better than I would," agreed Dentus. "But this isn't so much about increasing the Aurors' effectiveness. This is symbolic, and political. If the Ministry did this, it would be about responding to public anger over all the deaths."

Snape spoke next, surprising Harry; Snape rarely spoke in staff room discussions unless asked a question. "In addition, it would be a message to Death Eaters, meant to unnerve them and make them less bold. It would be a psychological weapon for the Aurors, useful to them even if they never used a Killing Curse. You may want to discuss it with them."

Now Harry understood why Snape had spoken; he was trying to make a point to Harry, that he needed to think about larger issues than his basic aversion to killing. Harry also knew that as a practical matter, Aurors already had the right to kill; unless they mistakenly killed an innocent person, they would never be brought to account for killing. "I will," said Harry to Snape.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Hermione walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hermione took her usual seat; as Harry approached the front of the room, he felt a tap on his arm. Turning in surprise, he looked down at Sally-Anne Perks. Looking nervous, she made a small directional gesture in front of her body. "What's he doing here?" she half-whispered. Harry looked in the direction she was pointing, and saw Blaise's ghost, standing in the far corner of the room. Eyebrows rising, he found himself wondering the same thing she was. He reversed direction, walking towards the back of the class, then a few steps in Blaise's direction.

"Hi, Blaise," he said, in as friendly and casual as tone as he could manage. "Can I help you with something?"

Blaise looked surprised at the question. "No, not really. Just wanted to join the class, is all. I would sit down, but I can't, so..."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed in puzzlement. "Yes, but you wouldn't be able to, you know, practice or anything."

"I know, but this class is usually pretty interesting anyway," said Blaise. "There's really not that much to do, as a ghost."

"Really?" asked Harry. "I'd have thought there was a lot, since you can go anywhere. Well, it's a little unusual; you know we usually don't have ghosts in classes. Could you let me talk to the class about it for a minute? If you could just wait out in the hall..."

"Okay," said Blaise agreeably, and drifted through the wall into the hall.

Harry soundproofed the room as he walked to the front of the class. "I assume you're uncomfortable with him being here?" he asked Sally-Anne.

"Well, yeah," she said, as if it were obvious. "I mean, he's a ghost..."

Two rows away, Neville spoke up. "Why is that a problem? There are ghosts all over the place here."

"But not in classes," responded Sally-Anne.

"There was Professor Binns," Neville pointed out.

"That was different," she argued.

"Why?" asked Neville simply. She gave him an exasperated look, but didn't answer.

"Does anyone else have a problem with Blaise being here, as long as he doesn't talk or participate?" Harry asked the class. No one raised a hand, so Harry turned to Sally-Anne. He recalled that she had been friends with Lisa, so he tried another approach. "Let me ask you, Sally-Anne... if it were Lisa's ghost, would you have a problem with it?" She looked down uncomfortably, and thought for a few seconds. Then she sighed, and gestured her acquiescence. Harry walked out to the hall, invited Blaise in, and resumed his place in front of the class.

First he tested everyone on the energy of love; everyone knew they'd be checked that day, and he wanted to get it out of the way, so people wouldn't be thinking about it all the time in class. Everyone's score improved over the previous test, by a range of two to ten points. Except for Harry's four friends, the highest score was Susan's 93, followed by Justin's 92. As Susan sat down after getting her score, Justin said, "I guess we need some more practice. Looks like it's back to the couples' places for us."

Harry joined in the class's laughter, then added, "And vacation's almost here, so you can do even better than that."

"So, that's a homework assignment, right?" asked Justin, to more laughter. "I mean, it would be nice to say to my mum, 'Susan and I have to go upstairs to do our homework,' and have it be true."

"Sorry, I think I have to be able to deny that," said Harry. He then praised the class for their progress, and started that class's energy-of-love session. Thirty minutes later, he said, "Okay, now, today's topic is area-effect spells. Not how to do them, of course, but how to defend against them. There are two main ways. The best one is if you happen to know the counter-curse to the spell being done, you can just use it. The other one is the one I'll be teaching you today; it's only a temporary measure, good for some basic protection for a few seconds while you can hopefully get out of the area of the spell. Now, the-"

"Harry?" said Blaise timidly. Most of the class turned to look at Blaise.

Harry was so surprised he didn't think to chastise Blaise. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, I know I wasn't supposed to talk, but I have a message for you. The message is: 'You're going to be called. It's a trap.'"

A chill ran down Harry's spine as everyone turned to stare at Blaise. Harry walked over to the right side of the room, closer to his four friends. Fawkes and Flora appeared almost simultaneously, perching on the podium and Hermione's desk, respectively. "How does he know that?" asked Harry, of no one in particular.

"I told you, it was a message," said Blaise.

"No, I don't mean you, I mean him," said Harry absently.

"Who's the message from, Blaise?" asked Dean, sitting at the back of the room, closest to Blaise.

Before Harry had a chance to tell Blaise not to answer, he did. "Professor Dumbledore," he said.

There was a gasp. "And you mustn't repeat that to anyone," instructed Harry, "which Professor McGonagall will be telling you as well." Turning to his friends, he said, "I assume he means from the Aurors, in which case, we'll all get the call."

"If we get it, Harry, don't go," urged Hermione. "Stay here, let us go."

He stared at her incredulously. "Oh, yeah, good idea. I'll do that."

"I'm serious!" she shouted. "You know Albus isn't usually your eye-in-the-sky, he wouldn't have warned you unless it was really serious! You can't go!"

"I have to, you know that," he responded. "The Aurors are counting on me to be there, I can't just not show up! It could be Voldemort!" As Harry spoke, Ron stood next to Harry and took his left hand, an unspoken request to be taken along by Apparation rather than by the phoenixes. Fawkes and Flora disappeared.

"Harry, it's a trap! He just said so! Look, go to the Aurors, tell Kingsley-"

"Good idea," he agreed, and Disapparated, taking Ron with him; the instant before he disappeared, he saw McGonagall appear with Flora in the classroom.

Harry and Ron had barely arrived at the detection room when their pendants went off, with the alarm that indicated an all-out alert. The room was a whirl of activity, with a dozen Aurors rushing in, and more than a dozen more Apparating in over the next few seconds. Still holding Ron's hand, Harry took in the information from the wall, and quickly Disapparated.

He and Ron Apparated into a lightly wooded area; it looked like the same place where they had caught the last Death Eater to end the Apparation crisis in the summer. The scene was chaotic: spells were flying through the air, Aurors were Apparating in, and a half dozen Aurors were on the ground, dead or unconscious. A quick glance told Harry that there were about fifty adversaries, but from their robes, most weren't Death Eaters. He looked around to see who needed protection from Killing Curses, and started putting them up.

A second later, Hermione and Neville were rushing at him. "Harry, look out!" shouted Hermione. Something seemed wrong with her voice, but he couldn't place it right away. Hermione and Neville plowed into him and Ron, knocking them to the ground. Harry felt himself losing consciousness rapidly, and barely had time to wonder why. Over Hermione's shoulder, he looked up to see Flora suddenly appear, carrying Hermione and Neville. Harry lost consciousness as he was Disapparated away.

As Harry struggled for consciousness, the first thing he was aware of was the memory flashing through his mind. He saw himself talking to Dumbledore and Snape in the middle of the night, Dumbledore explaining the Cleansing, and how he hoped Harry would help Snape. After a minute, the scene changed, and he was remembering his first energy-of-love session with the Aurors. As that memory played through his mind, he slowly returned to consciousness, and slowly became aware of his situation. He was lying on his back, legs straight, arms at his sides. They must have done the Full-Body Bind on me, he thought. He flexed a pinky to see if he could move; he could, so he concluded it must have worn off.

Eyes still closed, he remembered what had happened just before he lost consciousness, and he suddenly knew with certainty that he was with Voldemort, a captive. But why no ropes? he wondered. Why just a Full-Body Bind that's worn off? He became aware of a few other things: a sound, the sound of an engine, which he had heard once before, in the airplanes he had boarded in September. The floor rocked slightly; he realized he was on an airplane. He also realized that Voldemort was doing Legilimens on him, viewing memories. Oh, no, he thought, Snape is blown. His next thought was, why hasn't he noticed I've woken up? He thought that Voldemort would notice mentally, if not by Harry's movements. But Voldemort didn't notice; he went on to a different memory, one of Harry discussing with Kingsley the restrictions against killing for those who wanted to learn the energy of love.

I can move, thought Harry, and he doesn't know I can. What should I do? The Imperius Charm? No, he'd just disappear... the device! I have to find it! Deciding to take a chance, he opened his eyes as little as he could manage. The first thing he saw was Voldemort's torso; clearly he was lying on his side, very close to Harry. Harry opened his eyes a little wider, and saw that they were in a very small, enclosed space; he guessed that in all, it was probably a little bit longer, wider, and higher than a coffin, but not much. He realized the reason immediately: people couldn't Apparate onto moving objects, which was the reason for the plane, and a phoenix wouldn't be able to appear into such a small space. Voldemort had gone to a lot of trouble to see that they weren't disturbed.

As the memory Voldemort was watching continued, Harry looked around more, and saw, on Voldemort's wrist, a thick, silver bracelet. That has to be it, he thought. He knew he would have only one chance, that Voldemort could probably incapacitate him quickly if he failed. He had a last-second, absurd thought before he acted: If this turns out to be just a bracelet, I'm going to feel pretty stupid. He focused all his energy on a Severing Charm, and raising his right hand quickly, brought it down, imagining himself chopping something hard with a heavy knife. Voldemort's hand instantly separated from his wrist, and the bracelet fell off.

Voldemort screamed and lurched upwards, hitting his head on the top of the container they were in; blood spurted onto Harry's hands, torso, then face, as Voldemort thrashed about in pain and shock. Rolling onto his side quickly, Harry snatched Voldemort's wand away, and in one quick motion, performed the Imperius Charm. Unlike Snape and Malfoy, Voldemort went unconscious instantly. In the same instant, Harry felt his hand being burned; he felt as if he were holding a red-hot poker rather than a wand. He dropped it immediately, then looked at his hand. The skin was raw and burned in exactly the places he had been holding the wand.

Grimacing in pain, he considered what to do next. Where was his wand? Probably not on the plane, he thought. Think, he told himself. Can I get out of this... whatever it is we're in? There were holes in the sides for air, but the top was solid. He pushed against it with his left hand, but it didn't move. He wished Fawkes could get in and take him away, but he realized that that was the whole point of such a confined space.

Can I even do anything to him? Harry wondered. Without a wand, there's nothing I can do... oh, wait, I might be able to do Legilimens, sometimes you do that without a wand. It's worth a try...

Harry focused hard, and easily gained access to Voldemort's unconscious mind. He called up recent memories, and saw Voldemort crawling into the compartment after the Death Eater masquerading as Hermione had crawled out, the plane engines already running. Voldemort moved Harry into a certain position, did the Full-Body Bind, then placed a Confundus Beam next to Harry's head, then turned it on. Ah, so that's why he thought I'd never be able to do anything, Harry thought, he thought I couldn't even if I woke up. Didn't he know I had that artifact I took from that assassin? Maybe the assassin hadn't told him about it.

Harry saw Voldemort begin to view memories; conscious of how little time he might have, he skipped ahead. He reached a point at which Voldemort had found most of the important information: Snape's spying, the prophecy, Dumbledore's assistance in rendering Voldemort unconscious, how Harry taught the energy of love, and the nature of the Imperius Charm. He saw Voldemort decide to kill him, raise his wand... and suddenly go unconscious. The memory continued when Voldemort regained consciousness. Harry saw Voldemort in tremendous fear, truly realizing and believing for the first time that Dumbledore had a purpose for dying. Making an impulsive decision, Voldemort suddenly pointed the wand at Harry, as if he could kill Harry by acting too fast for Dumbledore to stop him. Voldemort went unconscious again.

The next thing Harry felt Voldemort feel, upon awakening, was terror, almost paralyzing fear. Voldemort realized that Dumbledore could make him unconscious whenever he wanted, and there was nothing he could do to stop Dumbledore. Or was there? He resolved to research methods of fending off supernatural attacks, if there were any. Or he would create one, but one way or the other, Dumbledore would be stopped. Harry saw, however, an even deeper fear strike Voldemort: that he had been wrong in not believing in an afterlife. Voldemort wasn't convinced that there was one, but clearly for the first time, he was seriously entertaining the possibility. Harry couldn't understand why Voldemort feared such a thought so much, and couldn't find out by viewing the memory.

Next, Harry watched as Voldemort adjusted the bracelet; Harry understood that Voldemort was activating it, so that the next time he went unconscious, he would be transported away. Harry didn't have time to wonder why he had switched it off in the first place; by viewing the memory, he understood immediately. The device subjected Voldemort to the same restrictions as Apparating: he could not Apparate from a moving object to the ground, so he would have to be transported somewhere in midair. He would then have to be caught by someone on a broom at the proper place, and while Voldemort was sure of his helpers' loyalty, he preferred not to trust them with his life unless there was simply no other option. He had deactivated the bracelet as a precaution, in case Harry could do his spell even while under the influence of the Confundus Beam; he preferred to wake up in the same place and kill Harry when he did. After Dumbledore made him unconscious twice in a row, however, Voldemort realized that both had happened just before he had tried to kill Harry. He decided not to try again to kill Harry, but wait for the plane to land, and have one of his Death Eaters do it. He activated the bracelet in fear that Dumbledore might continue rendering him unconscious whether he tried to kill Harry or not, and he didn't want to risk the Confundus Beam giving out. Harry felt Voldemort's fury, his feeling of impotence. In enclosed quarters with a wandless and defenseless seventeen-year-old, he couldn't kill him, and was in fact in danger himself. Voldemort's next thought was a dawning realization, that...

Voldemort started to stir, and Harry forced his concentration away from what he was watching, withdrawing from Voldemort's mind. This is going to hurt, he thought grimly. Using material from his robes to protect his hand at first-like taking something out of the oven with an oven mitt, he thought-he then grabbed it with his right hand just long enough to do the Imperius Charm again, then dropped it, howling in pain, as Voldemort went unconscious again. Thank God burns heal well with magic, thought Harry; enough of this, and my hand's not going to have any skin left. As he glanced at the wand, he also noticed that a part of Voldemort's robe was drenched in blood, and that blood was still coming out of his wrist. He wondered whether Voldemort might die of blood loss, but decided he shouldn't worry about that one way or the other, but continue doing what he was doing.

Harry cast Legilimens again, and tried to find the same memory he had been viewing when Voldemort had awakened. It took him a half a minute to do so. He felt Voldemort realize that there was a possibility that Harry could do even more damage than he had so far. Voldemort thought about the phrase from the prophecy, 'He will mark him as his equal,' suggesting that any power that Voldemort had, Harry would have it, or its equivalent. Voldemort wondered whether Harry could use what he called love-all evidence to the contrary, Voldemort still thought that what Harry used was simply another kind of power, not love-to do something equivalent to the Cleansing? Is that how I'm being rendered unconscious? Harry saw Voldemort wonder.

Harry gasped in sudden realization; in an instant, he knew. He knew what he was going to do, how he was going to defeat Voldemort. I can do the Cleansing, only with love instead, he thought. His mind is as if it's been Cleansed, like he did it himself, which is why he can't tolerate love. If I do a reverse Cleansing on him, his mind won't be able to tolerate evil, rather than love. He takes off every time love invades his mind; after I do this, if I can, evil won't be able to stay there, like love can't now. He might end up as Tom Riddle, or insane, or comatose, but when I'm done with him, whatever it is that makes him Voldemort won't be able to survive in his mind.

But can I really do it? he asked himself. How do I do it? He realized at once that the answer to that question was another question: How does Voldemort do the Cleansing? With a new sense of urgency, he cast Legilimens on Voldemort again. He had to know exactly what was involved. He searched for Voldemort's memory of having done the Cleansing on Snape, and started viewing. After a minute, distracted by Snape's screaming in the memory, he started again from the beginning. He tried to focus only on what Voldemort was doing, how he saw Snape's mind, what he looked for, exactly what he did when. He felt as though he were trying to learn surgery by watching, but he knew there was nothing else he could do.

Concentrating intently, he watched for ten minutes, taking in every detail he could. He tried to ignore how sickened he felt, watching what Snape was being put through, how Voldemort enjoyed doing what he was doing. He felt Voldemort feel that he was doing Snape a favor as well as making him a useful tool. After ten minutes, Harry felt that he more or less knew what Voldemort did, but was still no nearer knowing exactly how to do the opposite. Was it just a matter of calling up the same memories Voldemort did, then doing the same thing with love that Voldemort did with pain? Can I do it without a wand? Well, let's give it a try, he thought.

He focused on calling up a memory of love, but after a minute of trying, had found nothing. This is going to be harder than I thought, he thought dejectedly. Does he really have no memories of love whatsoever? Or are they just buried so deeply that I can't get at them? He decided to try for happiness instead, pure happiness not derived from someone else's suffering. He searched for another minute, then found a memory from early childhood; a kind word and a hug from a woman at the orphanage. Harry tried to apply love as Voldemort had applied pain, but nothing seemed to happen. Does he have to be conscious for this to work? wondered Harry. Worse yet, does he have to consent? Albus said that consent was necessary for the Cleansing, could it be the same for this? No, it can't be, he told himself. This is what I have to do, I know it. I'll be able to do it without his consent.

Harry paused for a few seconds, then decided to try again. He called up the same memory, then concentrated hard on love, on imprinting it into Voldemort's mind. He imagined that the first step would be the hardest, but once there was a tiny spot in Voldemort's mind that could handle love, he could work from there to spread it around the rest of Voldemort's mind. He continued for another thirty seconds; suddenly, Voldemort let out a deafening scream, worse than Harry had ever heard. In the middle of the scream, with a popping noise, he Disapparated.

"Dammit!" yelled Harry, pounding the bottom of the container with his fist, then howling in pain again as he had somehow forgot about the burns on his hand. You moron, he said to himself. How did he do that? I guess, like the thing with kids, it can happen automatically when you're in a dire situation. That probably hurt him as badly as anything has in many years, maybe even worse than when his Curse backfired. He's going to be terrified of me now. Good.

What now, he thought. He looked around the container, and saw three things: Voldemort's wand, Voldemort's bracelet... and Voldemort's dismembered hand. I should take all three, he thought, even though the idea disgusted him; he knew the hand could possibly be used against Voldemort in some way, though he had little idea how. He would definitely take the bracelet, and as for the wand... he dreaded the thought of using it again, but he knew he couldn't get away without it. The alternative would be to wait until the plane landed, where there would be Death Eaters meeting it. I still have some skin somewhere on that hand, he thought with dark humor.

Again using material from his robes to cover his hand at first, he gingerly picked up the wand. To his surprise, it felt cool. He quickly touched it with his bare hand, then finally held it firmly between his thumb and little finger, the only parts of his right hand not badly burned. Holding it caused great pain from having to move the hand at all, but not from the wand. Finally, he conjured a thick white cloth; the wand's temperature didn't change. "Sure, now you don't burn me," he said to the wand. "I could have used this five minutes ago." Taking the wand in his left hand and hoping it didn't decide to heat up again, he levitated the hand and the bracelet onto the cloth, wrapped it, and put it into his robes.

He then Disapparated to a spot a few thousand feet above the plane, just to be safe, since he didn't know its altitude. Falling, he saw Fawkes appear a second later, falling with him. He put Voldemort's wand inside his robes and grabbed Fawkes's tail, being careful to do it with his left hand rather than his right, as he usually did. Fawkes helped him decelerate. When he had fully decelerated, he asked Fawkes to take him to wherever Ginny was.

He was suddenly a few inches from the floor of the standby area, next to the Aurors' Apparation detection room. "Harry!" shrieked Ginny, leaping to her feet and hugging him hard. He hugged her back gratefully, again protecting his right hand, making sure it touched nothing. She kissed him quickly, then hugged him again. When she finally let him go, he saw that they were surrounded by his other four friends, McGonagall, and Kingsley, with a dozen Aurors further back.

McGonagall had an expression of deep concern. "Are you all right? That blood..."

Harry had forgot that he had been liberally splashed with blood; now that he thought about it, he realized there was some on his glasses. "It's his. Well, it's mine, really, but it came from him. He's all right too, unfortunately, but..." He reached into his robes with his left hand and pulled out the cloth, handing it to Kingsley. "I thought this might be useful, but you'll know what to do with it better than me."

Kingsley, seeing that some red had stained the cloth, opened it gingerly. When he exposed the hand, the bracelet around the stump, there was a collective gasp. Kingsley looked at Harry in astonishment, Ron and Neville's mouths dropped open, and Hermione made a noise that sounded like a squeak. After a few seconds, Ron managed, "I, um, I see you figured out a way to get the device off."

From behind Harry, Snape spoke. "That is all well and good, Professor," he said as Harry turned to look at him. "But, where is the rest of him?"

Leave it to Snape to put it that way, thought Harry. "The bad news is, the rest of him got away. But the good news is, I think I know how I'm going to beat him."

"Wrong," said Ginny firmly, as Harry turned back to look at her. "The good news is, you're alive and well. The rest is just icing on the cake."

He smiled at her, his first smile for quite a while. "Come on, I need to tell you what happened. Kingsley, where should we do it?"

"The main meeting room, it should seat all of us. You six, me, Professors Snape and McGonagall... and if you don't mind, Harry, I'd like to get the Minister here too, let him hear this firsthand."

"Sure, that's fine," agreed Harry. "Let's go." He started for the conference room, his friends right behind. On his right side, Ginny happily took his right hand, squeezing it firmly. Harry screamed in pain, startling most everyone in the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me see," said Ginny, mortified to have caused him such pain. "Let me... oh, Harry, why in the world didn't you say anything?" she asked in disbelief. "You have to get that taken care of right now! That looks awful!"

"It's no fun," he agreed. "But I need to tell you about this right away, it could have time value. I don't know if it will, just that it could. Just don't touch my hand, and it'll be all right for a while."

McGonagall walked over and took his right arm by the wrist to look at his hand, and winced. "Yes, I'm sure it will be fine," she said dryly. "I will get someone from St. Mungo's. Kingsley, may I..."

He nodded, and she Disapparated. The six continued walking to the conference room; along the way, Harry took out Voldemort's wand and Summoned his own. He knew it probably wouldn't arrive for a while, but was confident that it would. "I want to ask you all kinds of questions, but I know they'll be answered when you tell the story," said Ginny. "Thank goodness for the phoenixes."

Harry glanced at her in surprise, since they hadn't been able to help him, except at the end. "She means, because they kept us informed about your emotional state," explained Hermione. "We knew that you were unconscious for a while, that was when we were most worried; Ginny kept staring at her hand. Then I got a message from Albus, through the phoenixes; he said that you would need to concentrate, and that I shouldn't try to send you messages through Fawkes and Flora, and Ginny shouldn't look at her hand."

"It was really hard," said Ginny, and Harry knew it was an understatement.

"I got two bursts of pain, which I assume was when your hand got like that," continued Hermione as Harry nodded. "Near the end, I got a strong sense of... I guess you could say, revelation, like you finally understood something, something about Voldemort. I'll be very interested to hear what it is."

"I'll be very interested to know if it's right," he said as they entered the conference room. The table was a circle that seated twelve, so they all sat next to each other. "What happened at the site, where I got taken from?"

Neville looked somber. "Six Aurors responded to the call, as usual. You saw how many were waiting there, all using Killing Curses. Five of the six were killed."

"Oh, God," said Harry, in deep sorrow. Ginny reached over for his hand, then backed away at the last second, remembering, and gripped his forearm instead. "That's horrible. But I'm almost surprised it wasn't all six."

"The sixth was Winston," said Neville. "He put up a Killing Curse shield. He had no idea that he could do it until that moment."

Harry knew he would be extremely pleased under different circumstances. "Hell of a way to find out."

"That's exactly what he said," said Neville. "But yeah, this is really bad. That many Aurors haven't died at once for a very long time. Now we're down to thirty-three, not including us." Harry noticed that it was the first time that Neville had referred to the Aurors as 'we.' He obviously felt the deaths very strongly as well.

"But there were no more deaths after I was taken?"

"No, by then we had shields, and better numbers," said Neville. "All five of us were putting up shields like crazy, and we started winning the battle pretty quickly. The attackers started getting away, either by Disapparating or using Portkeys; we think they had a whole bunch set up before the thing started. We ended up capturing about twenty of them. Kingsley's talked to a few of them, and apparently a lot have American accents." No surprise, thought Harry.

Snape soon entered, followed shortly by Kingsley and Bright, who approached Harry. "Harry, I'm very glad to hear..." He extended a hand as he spoke, and trailed off because Harry held up his right hand to explain why he didn't shake Bright's. "...that you're largely all right," finished Bright, clearly taken aback by what he saw.

"It..." Harry chuckled at what he had been about to say. "I was going to say it's not as bad as it looks, but that would be a lie, it's pretty painful. It's just that I know it's fairly easily fixable."

"Yes, it's not as though you lost your hand entirely," joked Neville.

"He can just make himself another one," responded Harry.

McGonagall and an older woman in green Healer's robes entered the room. "Harry, this is Healer Haspberg, she is the senior Healer, and an old friend."

Harry nodded to her. "Professor," she said, kneeling next to his chair and taking his right wrist. "Oh, dear. How did this happen?" She cast a spell, and his hand suddenly felt much less pain.

"Voldemort's wand," said Harry. "For some reason, until he was gone, it burned my hand badly both times I tried to use it, like it was on fire."

"An uncommon defensive Dark Arts spell," remarked Snape. "The wand will burn the hand of anyone who tries to use it against its owner." Ah, that's why I was able to use if after Voldemort got away, thought Harry. "You are the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, you should have known that."

"Albus did tell me that he didn't hire me for my encyclopedic knowledge of the topic," countered Harry, mildly annoyed at Snape. "But I'll be sure to mention it in my classes from now on. 'Don't try to use Voldemort's wand against him.'"

Everyone was in a chair except Haspberg, who was working on Harry's hand. "You may begin, Professor," said McGonagall.

"Obviously, I don't know much that happened until I woke up," began Harry. "Apparently they Apparated me to the inside of a small container inside a plane, which took off shortly after they put me in it, and Voldemort went in there with me. When I woke up, memories were flashing through my head. I think he had been doing it for at least twenty minutes." He looked at Snape sadly, knowing how it would affect him. "I'm sorry, Professor, but he knows about you now."

Everyone looked at Snape, who seemed to be making a supreme effort to hold his emotions in check, and barely succeeding. "I feared as much," he said quietly and bitterly. "I feared that your stupidity would cost us dearly, and I was correct."

"Professor!" said McGonagall reprovingly.

Her reprimand only seemed to anger Snape further. "He warned you!" he shouted at Harry. "The headmaster warned you that it was a trap, but you went anyway! She asked you not to go," Snape gestured to Hermione, "and you mocked her! They are the two people whose opinion you hold in the highest regard, and you completely ignored them both, because after all, you are Harry Potter, nothing could possibly ever happen to you-"

"That's not the reason, and you know it!" responded Harry in what was almost a shout. Trying to keep his voice level, he continued, "I can't ignore those alarms, they mean Aurors are in danger-"

"You can ignore them if you are warned that there is a trap for you!" shouted Snape. "That is the whole point of the words 'warning' and 'trap!' I said that your vocabulary was deficient, but I did not dream the problem was this bad," he added, dripping venom and sarcasm. Bright and Kingsley exchanged glances, apparently wondering about Snape's stability.

Before Harry could respond, McGonagall spoke. "Professor Snape! This is not the time for a discussion of the appropriateness of Professor Potter's actions, not to mention insults. Now, please hold your tongue unless you have something pertinent to contribute." Seething with anger, Snape stared at her, but said nothing. Harry felt angry with Snape, but could understand why Snape was so angry.

"Um, anyway," said a discomfited Harry, "He knows everything now: the prophecy, the relays, everything I know. Including the fact that I had no idea how I was going to defeat him."

Harry went on to describe the rest of what had happened. When he got to the point where he used the Imperius Charm on Voldemort and started using Legilimens on him, Snape interrupted. "Forgive me for asking a stupid question," he sneered, "but why did you not at this point simply kill him?"

"How?" responded an annoyed Harry. "I didn't have a wand I could use-"

"You could have simply strangled him," pointed out Snape. "You put your hands around the person's neck, and squeeze as hard as you can. I would be happy to demonstrate the procedure-"

"Professor Snape," warned McGonagall.

"Even with that wand... I would hold onto a red-hot wand for as long as it took to kill the Dark Lord," continued Snape with anger and intensity, "until the hand was a lump of dead flesh. I would have thought you would too, even if it were your precious left hand."

"Hey!" shouted Ginny, leaping to her feet.

"Leave her out of this!" shouted Harry, now truly angry. "Look, you knew this already, that I couldn't kill him-"

"You mean 'wouldn't,' not 'couldn't,' corrected Snape. "And you did not even have to kill him! You could have held onto him, Disapparated out, and brought him back here!"

"The wand-"

"Would only burn your hand if you were using it against him, which you would not have been."

"I didn't know-"

"Of course not," sneered Snape. "But even so, you could have held onto it for long enough to Disapparate."

"You said last year there can be magical defenses against being involuntarily-"

"You could have checked, using Legilimens!"

"Voldemort could have woken up in the meantime-"

"That was not the reason you didn't do it! The reason is that you didn't think of it! Tell me that's not true!" Harry gave Snape a look of smoldering anger, but said nothing. "I thought as much," continued Snape derisively. "That should be what it says on your tombstone. 'Here lies Harry Potter. He didn't think.' It's Grindelwald all over again."

Hermione wheeled on Snape, furious, as Harry could see the rest of his friends were getting. "That is so unfair, and such a totally different situation-"

"Hermione," interrupted McGonagall. Turning to Snape, quietly and very seriously, she said, "Professor, I understand what this means for you. I am trying to be tolerant, and I can see that Harry is too. But you will act appropriately, or you will be asked to leave." Harry saw the look Snape gave McGonagall in response, and wondered whether Snape could keep it together. Harry tried to calm himself, and after a half a minute, continued.

Sighing, he said, "Much as I hate to admit it, Professor Snape was right about one thing. I didn't consider the possibility of using the wand for just as long as it took to Disapparate us both out of there. Once the wand started burning my hand like that, I just didn't think of it as something I could use."

"Harry, from early childhood, we are taught not to touch or grab very hot things, both by our parents and by experience," said Bright reassuringly, with a quick, annoyed glance at Snape. "That you thought that way is... extremely understandable." Snape scoffed silently, but made no noise.

"Well, I wish I had at least thought of it," said Harry. "Anyway, by doing Legilimens on him, I found out what had happened until then. He had tried to kill me twice, and Albus had done his thing to him both times. Voldemort started to wake up, and I had to grab the wand to put him out again." Harry saw Ron and Pansy wince in sympathy. "When I did Legilimens on him next-"

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt," said Haspberg. "I've done as much as can be done with your hand, Professor. It is now in a field which extends a half an inch from all injured parts of your hand; your hand will get a small shock if it gets that close to anything. This is to remind you not to use your hand in any way. The field will decrease in intensity as your hand heals; you should be able to use it again in two days. Please come to St. Mungo's tomorrow for another check. Can you do that?"

"I'll drag him if I have to," answered Ginny for him.

"Don't worry, he'll be there," added Hermione.

"Their job is to protect me, but also from myself, apparently," joked Harry.

"Somebody has to," retorted Ginny.

"Anyway, it feels much better, thank you very much," said Harry to Haspberg.

She nodded her acknowledgment, and left, with a nod of thanks from McGonagall. "Where was I... Oh, yes. I did Legilimens on him again, and I found that after he woke up the second time, he had this overwhelming fear. A fear of the unknown, of something he had absolutely no control over. It was like, his worst nightmare had come true. Then I saw him think something that made the light bulb go on over my head. He had seen the prophecy, the part about my being his equal. He wondered if I'd be able to do something like the Cleansing, and I suddenly realized-"

"I'm sorry, Harry," interrupted Bright. "The what?"

"It's this thing that Voldemort does-"

"Professor!" said Snape loudly in warning.

Harry looked to McGonagall for support. "I have to explain it, Professor. It has to do with how I think I'm going to beat him, but it won't make any sense unless I explain the Cleansing." McGonagall hesitated, then gestured for him to continue. Very frustrated, Snape again managed not to speak.

Harry explained the Cleansing, to the horrified looks of those who had never heard about it; he thought he saw most people sneak glances at Snape, making the correct conclusions about him and the reasons for his usual behavior. "So, obviously the Imperius Charm is very different from the Cleansing, but it's not impossible that I could do something like that. Who knows, maybe it would make the person completely happy, never able to have a negative emotion. I don't know; obviously, I wouldn't even think about changing someone permanently that way. But it made me think of something. The way he is, it's like he did the Cleansing to himself. I thought, maybe I could do-"

"A Cleansing in reverse!" interrupted Hermione, gaping. "Oh, my God! That could work! You wouldn't have to kill him, it's consistent with the energy of love, and he would end up... harmless."

McGonagall was astonished at the idea. "Do you really think it could work?"

"I didn't know," he replied, "but I decided that I had to find out; I didn't know how much time I had, but I knew that I might not get the chance again. I did Legilimency on him, watching him very closely, do the Cleansing to someone. It wasn't pleasant," he added in an aside. "Then I decided to try my idea on him. At first it didn't work, then I tried again; I tried to imprint love in there, as hard as I could. After a minute, he just let out this awful, terrible scream, and Disapparated. Without a wand. The scream was... amazing, it was as if I had wounded him horribly."

"You did," said Snape, anger gone, looking thoughtful. "You inflicted a wound on him that is nearly debilitating, worse than he would have imagined could have been done. If I were a betting person, I would bet everything I own that as we speak, he is still screaming in pain, that he has not stopped since he escaped you."

Harry looked around the table, and saw amazement on everyone's faces. "He will repair himself, though it may take some time," continued Snape. "But Professor Potter is correct; what he suggests will be effective, if he can do it. The problem is, of course, incapacitating him for long enough to do it. It would be far easier to simply kill him."

"The energy of love giveth, and it taketh away," commented Kingsley. "Maybe Harry can't kill, but he couldn't have done a tenth of what he has if not for the energy of love." With a stern glance at Snape, he added, "There are limitations it puts on him, and if not killing is one of them, we have to accept that."

"Or, he can bring us the Dark Lord unconscious, and we can kill him," said Snape. "I am certain there would be no shortage of volunteers."

"Especially after today," agreed Kingsley grimly. "But if Harry has the opportunity to do this, I'm not so sure I'd tell him not to bother. The only reason Voldemort got away was that Harry wasn't able to put down an anti-Disapparation field. If he tries to move Voldemort, it increases the chances that he could get away. If Harry can keep him in the same place and do this to him, it may be worth doing."

"There's another reason to, I think," added Harry. "If we just killed him, who's to say he'd really die? He didn't last time. He just hovered around, and came back. He might manage to do it again someday. I think this may be the reason the prophecy uses the word 'vanquish' instead of 'kill.' Maybe killing him isn't enough, maybe the only way to truly defeat him is to do this."

"Excuse me, Harry," said Bright. "I am not familiar with the entire prophecy. Now that Voldemort knows it, do you think it is safe..."

Harry looked at McGonagall. "I'd think it is. After all, nothing in it is any surprise by now, it's kind of obvious." She thought for a few seconds, and gestured her assent. He recited it; when he was finished, he commented, "If he'd known this all along, he might have put a greater priority on killing me much earlier, and probably would have succeeded. The part about my being his equal would have made him worry. Now, this is all pretty much stuff we know; it's all come true."

"The first serious evidence of it was when you came up with the Cruciatus Curse shield," mused Hermione aloud.

Snape gave a sudden start. He wore an awed expression, a look that Harry had never seen on him before. "Professor Potter... a thought has just occurred to me. You are not sure exactly how to do this... reverse Cleansing. You should practice it."

Harry's mouth slowly dropped open, as did those of the others who understood what Snape was suggesting. "Are you crazy?" asked Harry in disbelief. "Do you know what this could do to you? I don't even know! I barely know how I would do it!"

"You achieved a significant result with the Dark Lord, in a short period of time," pointed out Snape.

"Yes, and he's probably screaming in pain right now!" responded Harry. "Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Only that you started the procedure, but did not finish it," said Snape. "If you do what I suggest, you would learn valuable lessons that you could apply to the Dark Lord, if and when you do it to him."

"I'm sorry to interrupt again," said Bright, "but I keep feeling that there are too many things of which I'm not aware..."

"Not only you, mate," said Ron sympathetically. Suddenly realizing what he'd said, he amended, "Er, sorry, Minister." Harry exchanged a quick grin with Hermione.

"Quite all right, Ron," said Bright, amused. "Harry, what exactly is Professor Snape suggesting you do?"

"You've probably all guessed by now that the Cleansing was done to him, many years ago," explained Harry. "He basically wants me to undo it, put him back the way he was." To Snape, he said, "Look, I know you've wanted this for a long time, ever since you went to Dumbledore seventeen years ago. I'm not saying I couldn't do it, someday. But now, it's just an idea." Enunciating every word and speaking slowly, he continued, "I... don't... know... what... I'm... doing! Anything could happen! You could end up dead, or in a coma, or..."

"Or, like his parents?" asked Snape, gesturing at Neville; Harry was surprised that Snape had accurately guessed what he was going to say. "I'm perfectly willing to take the chance-"

"Watch what you say about my parents!" said Neville sharply. Despite Neville's having lost most of his shyness, it greatly surprised Harry to see Neville talk that way to Snape, whom he had long feared. Harry knew, of course, that Neville was very sensitive to any disrespect to his parents.

"Or what, you'll unleash your potty mouth on me?" smirked Snape.

"I'll unleash more than that on you, if you're not careful!" shouted Neville.

"Such as us, for one thing," put in Kingsley, his tone a warning. "The Aurors, Professor, would strongly prefer that you did not speak of Frank and Alice with anything but the utmost respect." Kingsley finished the sentence there, but Harry was sure he understood the additional, unspoken, "if you get my drift."

Snape rolled his eyes, suggesting that he didn't care about the Longbottoms one way or the other. "As I was saying, I will take the chance. You must do this."

"I'd rather wait until I've done it to Voldemort-"

"I will not last that long!!" shouted Snape, almost as angry as he'd been over finding out about Blaise and the other boy. "This is you, not thinking again! It is, again, because of your stupidity, your lack of thinking, that my usefulness to the Order has ended. It was difficult enough to endure what I did, for the sake of being useful against the Dark Lord. You know how difficult it was, better than anyone except the headmaster. That was with the enormous incentive of being able to contribute to the Dark Lord's downfall. Now, there is simply nothing I can do. Even if I tried to make the effort to continue for the sake of continuing, I would fail. I know that. I cannot wait months for you to become skilled enough to do it, or even days. You... must... do... it... now!" he finished, mocking Harry's earlier way of speaking.

Harry hated to admit it to himself, but he hadn't thought about Snape's ability to hold on when considering the question. He loathed the idea that he might inadvertently cause Snape harm, or permanent disability, but who was he to tell Snape that he had to wait, to endure what he did indefinitely? Not to mention that his actions since finding out he could no longer be a spy supported the idea that he could not hold on. Still, he felt there was one more thing that he had to know before he could agree.

"I won't lie, I'm afraid of what could happen, that I have that kind of responsibility," said Harry quietly. "But at least, we have to wait a day. I have to talk to the other one, make sure this is what he wants too. He's a part of this."

Snape looked incredulous, as if he'd never heard anything so stupid in his life. "Are you insane?" he nearly shrieked. "He is me, I am him! We are the same entity; that is the whole point, the crux of the problem! You said yourself once, people were not meant to live like this! Even if he didn't want to, I wouldn't care! It's all very well for him, with the headmaster and Longbottom's parents and the whole gang in their little paradise, while I have to suffer down here! He does not have a say in this!"

Ron, Neville, Pansy, Kingsley, and Bright looked baffled; Hermione looked at Harry with regret. "I hate to say it, but he's right. The other one's going to say the same thing, you know he will. Not that I'm saying you have to do it today, though. It's probably better to wait a day, what with all you've been through today."

"Oh, yes, let's wait for poor Harry to recover from his ordeal," said Snape with unnecessary sarcasm. "Everyone can pat him on the back, tell him what a great job he did. Hugs all around from the friends, maybe a trip to his quarters so-"

"Professor!" barked McGonagall, now glaring at Snape. Harry started to wonder if Snape could literally wait until tomorrow; his tone suggested that he was becoming more unbalanced by the minute. Harry found that he was no longer angry with Snape, even given all he'd said, but felt sorry for him. It's easy for me to forget how hard this is for him, Harry thought. Here he just had his biggest emotional blow in sixteen years; the thing he based his life around is gone. Now there's the possibility that his suffering could end, and I'm all wishy-washy because I'm afraid I might hurt him. It's probably just more than he can tolerate.

Harry sighed. "I'll do it tomorrow. I want a chance to talk to Albus and the other one, maybe they can tell me something that'll help me. I want a chance to think about what I'm going to do, anyway. This is going to be really tricky, and-"

"Headmaster!" shouted Snape, looking slightly up, over everyone's heads. "Will you tell him, please, that the other one does not mind, and that there is no reason that he cannot do it today, as soon as possible?"

There was a silence, as everyone was somewhat uncomfortable. After a half a minute, Harry got a few images. Hermione caught his eye and nodded, letting him know that she'd got them too, through Flora. "The other one doesn't mind," she said. "But, Albus says, tomorrow. The sun setting, once."

Snape closed his eyes and grimaced, then stood and quickly strode from the room. After a second, McGonagall stood. Looking at Bright and Kingsley, she said, "Someone should be with him, and unfortunately, that someone is me. Excuse me." She left the room; Harry wondered whether she would catch up with him by the time he reached the fireplace.

In the silence that followed, Ron said, "I must say, I've learned things I never would have imagined I would before I sat down here."

"Not only you, mate," said Bright with a small grin. Ron smiled back, obviously pleased that the Minister had shared a joke with him. "May I ask, in case I'm the only one here who doesn't know, who is 'the other one?'"

"It was a secret, but you know so much at this point, it would be silly not to tell you the rest," said Harry. "It started the night Albus died, the first time he talked to me..."