Harry Potter and the Ring of Reduction

Chapter 18

Meeting the Parents

An hour later, Harry took the first bite of one of the sandwiches Molly had made for lunch. "Forty dead," said Neville, shaking his head. They had returned to the Burrow from their debriefing at Auror headquarters twenty minutes ago, except for Harry, who Kingsley had talked to privately for another ten minutes.

"Like Kingsley said, it would have been much more if not for Hermione," said Pansy.

"I just happen to be the one wearing it," protested Hermione.

"You thought of using it," countered Harry. "That's why you have it, and not me. I doubt I would have thought of it."

"Sorry we didn't come back and get you," she said. "I know you would have wanted to help us, but looking for you would have cost more time, and I still don't know how much time this has left, or if it recharges."

"How much time did you end up using it?" asked Dudley. He had already, on their return, asked for every bit of information they could provide. Harry assumed that Dudley's interest was especially high since this was the first wizarding event in which he had been involved, if only peripherally. Not counting the dementors, Harry added to himself, he probably doesn't really want to remember that.

"I think about fifteen minutes," said Hermione, in between bites of potato chips. "A little less than I used it for the wasp attack, so even if it's not rechargeable, if Voldemort was right, it's still got an hour or so left."

"So, what did Kingsley-now, he's the bald, black guy, right? I thought I remembered him-what did he keep you back to tell you?" asked Dudley.

Harry recalled that Dudley had seen Kingsley when Malfoy had been caught. "Just to tell me, not that I didn't know already, that taking that Portkey wasn't the wisest thing I ever did."

"Only less nicely than that, right?" guessed Dudley.

Harry shook his head. "No, he was nice about it, he usually is when he tells me I've done something stupid. He just pointed out that the thing to do was to consult with him immediately, get us all on board right away. He did say that if a fully trained Auror did that, it would mean that they weren't fully trained."

Ron chuckled. "Well, at least he reprimands you with humor. Would it help if I told you that it was a very typical thing for you to do?"

"Since we're talking about something I did that was stupid, no, not really," Harry responded. "But I appreciate the thought."

"No problem. Oh, you said you'd tell us more about what you saw in that Death Eater's mind."

Harry nodded. "A few things, some of which I told Kingsley when I talked to him afterwards. First of all, the Death Eater himself... it was Avery."

"Oh, great," sighed Pansy. She then explained the background to a curious Dudley. "I wonder, who gets to be the one to tell him they're going to execute his father."

"Either his mother, or McGonagall, depending on when it happens," said Neville. "You don't suppose there's any chance they wouldn't execute him, is there? He didn't directly kill anyone."

"He helped put the artifact in place, which led to forty deaths," pointed out Hermione. "But I think right now, just being a Death Eater will do it, it won't matter if they actually did anything."

"And it shouldn't," argued Ron. "Being a Death Eater means you've agreed to become Voldemort's servant, which means you agreed to kill, that you would kill if he told you to. Not that I envy his kid, but they can't make exceptions."

"I know," agreed Pansy. "It's just going to call attention to his family situation among other students, even if it doesn't affect him so much, which it would almost have to."

"It's not good," said Harry. "I wished it hadn't been him, if only for Marcus's sake. Anyway, the most interesting thing I found was that Voldemort did order this... sort of. I say that because he's not really in his right mind right now. Usually he plans operations carefully, but this one was done on the spur of the moment; he just ordered it this morning. Apparently he's been half-crazed since they got him back. The Death Eaters are wondering what in the world I did to him; they can't even guess, but of course they know it was me.

"So, this morning, Voldemort ordered them to do this. He wanted the maximum number of people killed, as soon as possible. One of them tried to tell him that if it was that easy, they'd have done it already. He said it much more politely than that, but Voldemort still gave him a minute of the Cruciatus Curse just for saying even that much. He told them to use the Four Corners artifact. They were surprised, and they thought it wasn't a good idea, but everyone was afraid to say anything remotely like that."

"Wonder why," said Ron, clearly not bothered at the thought.

"Why was it not a good idea?" wondered Dudley. "After all, it worked."

"The problem wasn't whether it would work," explained Harry. "It was that they were saving it for an attack on Hogwarts, planned for sometime in January. Set it up, take down Hogwarts' defense and magic again, and attack the castle with everything they have. Avery didn't know the details, but he assumed it would involve some giants, and the dementors. It makes sense. So, using it for this was a bad idea for two reasons. Even if we never figured out what took out Hogsmeade's magic, we would know they had something that could, which would warn us to prepare for an attack on the castle."

"But they know you've been teaching combat flying, so you must be thinking about an attack like that," said Ron.

"Yeah, but my preparing for it is different from us knowing that they're going to do it. Anyway, the other reason it was a bad idea is the one that happened: one of them got caught, and a piece of the artifact with him. They had this hugely strategically valuable artifact, and they lost it, because Voldemort wasn't thinking straight. He's still in incredible pain, furious, and scared. He wants someone to pay for what I did, and if it can't be me, or the rest of you..."

Sitting on his right, Hermione gripped his forearm for a few seconds. "Which in no way makes it your fault."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Did you get that from the phoenixes?"

She gave him a sad smile. "No, I got it from knowing you. You start blaming yourself every time there's the smallest causal connection involving you, and people's deaths. You're at the center of this fight, Harry. You hurt him worse than he thought he could be hurt, and he's lashing out. That was bound to happen if things started going against him. It's like those Muggle nature shows; predators are most dangerous when they're wounded and cornered. He may not be cornered yet, but it's getting close, and he's really wounded. We just have to keep up the pressure. Just imagine how many would be dead by now, if not for you."

Harry pondered that in silence, then continued. "Well, that was the main thing I got from Avery's memories. Another thing was that he was nervous about going on this mission, because of the whole business about killing captured Death Eaters."

Ron nodded. "I'm not surprised. I assume that like him, they don't believe in life after death, so that'd scare them pretty bad. Another reason to do it."

Harry wasn't so sure. "They're more scared of Voldemort than of death, though. If he tells them to do something, they'll still do it."

"Still, better to have them scared, though," said Ron. Harry didn't answer, because he didn't feel like discussing the capital punishment issue right then. "Seems more likely that it'll happen now, anyway."

"That's very true," agreed Hermione. "People were already angry, and this is only going to make them angrier. It'll be harder to find people who oppose this."

"Why would anyone oppose it?" asked Dudley, surprised. "After what they've done..."

Hermione explained her and Harry's reasons for opposing it; Dudley was obviously unimpressed. "Well, that's all noble and everything, but in the meantime, they keep killing people." Harry wasn't surprised that Dudley would take that position; he imagined that Vernon would as well, if the situation involved Muggles instead of wizards. "I kept talking to the people in Hogsmeade after you left, of course. They were like, I hope they kill them all. I can see why they would say that."

"Unfortunately, I can too," said Hermione. "What did Archibald say this morning, Harry?"

"He said I might be able to stop it if I tried really hard." The others looked at him, wanting to know the answer to the next question, but not wanting to ask. "I don't know if I will or not. I'm going to talk to Bright later, see what he thinks. I just... haven't had much time to think about it. Sometimes it seems like each choice is worst, except for the other."

There was silence for a moment. The topic of conversation changed, and he said nothing for a while.

Two hours later, he stepped out of the fireplace in the Minister of Magic's outer office. The secretary, an older, blonde witch, smiled at him. "The Minister is ready to see you, Professor," she said, gesturing him to the door. Nodding his thanks, he opened it.

Bright got up from his desk and walked over. "It's difficult not to want to shake your hand, it's such a reflex," he said with a grin. "How's it doing?" He gestured Harry to a chair, and they both sat.

"Much better, thanks. Ginny dragged me to St. Mungo's after lunch, and they basically looked at it, said it was doing well, warned me not to touch things, and let me go. Kind of a waste of time, really."

Bright chuckled. "I've had the same experience with Madeline, more than once. Best to do what they tell you, both your spouse and your Healer." Deciding to get down to business, Bright shifted in his chair to a more alert pose. "So, Harry, what brings you here today?"

Harry smiled a little. "That's a joke, right?"

"A small one, yes. Though while I do know what brings you here, I don't know exactly what you plan to say." He looked at Harry expectantly.

"First of all, I want to know how you feel about this. I mean... Archibald did warn me that how you feel and what you plan to do may be two different things, but mainly, I want to know how you feel about it."

Bright nodded slightly; his expression suggested to Harry that he was going to say something Harry didn't like. "Yes, they are different things. As for how I feel about it, I don't like it. Like you, I think that killing people is wrong. If I were a dictator, I would say no, we're not going to kill them, and I would draft people from the population to spend a few hours every week guarding them, taking turns, so the prisoners were well guarded, and I would accelerate the building of the prison. I would feel that it would be worth it to avoid having to kill people, as much as they may deserve it.

"But, alas, I'm not a dictator; I'm a politician. I have to believe that Dentus told you that for me this isn't even close, that I'd be stupid not to do it."

"He said that it was possible that for this kind of issue, your personal feelings might influence your decision."

With a raised eyebrow, Bright responded, "He's giving me more credit than I deserve, I'm afraid. I've always been very good at separating my personal feelings from my political judgment. It serves me well in politics, though in talking to you, it makes me uncomfortably aware of certain moral drawbacks."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed. "You mean, in this case, you're not going to let your personal feelings influence your decision."

"That's right."

Even though he knew he should have expected the answer, Harry still had a hard time accepting it. "How can you say that?" he demanded, more incredulously than he meant to. "This isn't some question about regulations, or... or whatever, this is about whether or not we kill people! Killing people is supposed to be the worst thing we can do. How can you possibly think only about the politics of it?"

Bright sighed lightly, though he had clearly expected Harry's reaction. "'I'm a politician' sounds like a sarcastic answer, but it's true. When we first met, I told you that-"

"That you would do what got you the most support, I remember," interrupted Harry, not thinking about the fact that he'd just interrupted the Minister of Magic. "But you could do this. Archibald tells me that with my help, you could stop it, and if things go wrong, any blame would go to me."

"When did you talk to him?" asked Bright.

"This morning, why?"

"Hogsmeade. Things have changed since this morning. In my little bubble here, I can't talk to people, but my assistants have. People have had it, they're boiling mad. They want something to be done-"

"They want revenge!" retorted Harry, raising his voice. "That's exactly why we shouldn't do this! It's totally the wrong reason! The fact that people escape is just an excuse to kill them, because people are mad." Harry paused, thinking, then spoke again. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I will anyway. I don't know if you've been told about what happened with Sirius..."

"He was killed in the Department of Mysteries by Bellatrix Lestrange, and he was innocent when he was sent to Azkaban," Bright supplied.

"Well, I don't know if they told you this, but he was very close to me, as close to a father as I'd ever had. I saw him get killed right in front of my eyes, and I went out of my head. I chased down Lestrange, she taunted me about what she'd done, and I tried to do the Cruciatus Curse on her." Bright's eyebrows went high, but he didn't interrupt. "I learned from that, that revenge doesn't accomplish anything. People won't feel better after the Death Eaters are executed. The relatives of the people who were killed won't feel any better. It won't bring their loved ones back."

Bright regarded Harry very seriously. "No, it won't. And it may not make them feel any better, but it might. What's true for you may not be true for everyone. But it will make them feel safer, and that's part of what this is about."

"Yes, but if we had caught these Death Eaters before they had done anything, or if they had killed people from some other country, nobody would be wanting them to be executed. Wanting revenge is most of what's causing this. You just said, they're angry. They want to feel safe, but they want someone punished more. It's just like what Voldemort did today. He's in pain, and he wants someone to suffer for it."

Bright spread his hands in a gesture of acknowledgment. "Human nature, Harry. I wasn't trying to argue the merits with you. Like I said, I agree with a lot of what you think. I was just telling you what the situation was out there, and why it may be difficult even for you to do anything to stop it. My training and experience always causes me to look first, and hard, at the reality of the situation. That's not to say I can't see the ethics of it, just that that's not where I look.

"And yes, you're right, it's not impossible that if I were determined I could stop it, especially with your help. And you're also right that killing is about the worst thing we can do as humans. But another thing that's really bad is letting people die. We can't be sure of holding the Death Eaters; that's an objective fact which we can't ignore. Part of what politics is about is the weighing of factors and making judgments."

"Based on political factors," said Harry.

"Mostly, yes," acknowledged Bright.

"Even when the political pressure you're responding to is being made with about as much judgment as I used when I chased after Bellatrix Lestrange? If so, you're letting a mob help make a decision for you."

"Mobs are groups of citizens, Harry. They have to be listened to, just like everyone else. If they're a mob, there's a reason they became a mob, and that reason is a big part of what I'm responding to. The intensity of their anger reflects the damage that Death Eaters are doing to our society, and I have to respond to that too."

"What would you do," Harry challenged him, "if the politics of this were neutral?"

"Just so you know, as a rule, politicians would rather kill their first-born than answer hypothetical questions. But I'll try to answer." Bright paused, thinking; Harry couldn't help but think that the very fact that Bright was pausing at all said a lot. "Honestly, I don't know. I'd probably support it anyway, but it would be a harder decision. I never pretended that the politics didn't matter. But I would be pretty torn, just like you are right now." Harry's eyebrows went up. "Yes, Harry, I've been checking you. You're the most unlikely person I can think of to lie to me, but when anyone comes in here wanting me to do something incredibly risky, you're damn right I'm going to be checking. You're not lying to me about anything, but I can tell you're ambivalent. You know what the right thing to do is, you just aren't sure if that's what you should do. You're hoping for an ally, someone to fight the fight with you. Well, I'm sorry, but I can't be that. I can't be as idealistic as you. I know what the people put me here to do, and it isn't to do the right thing, it's to reflect their will. The more important the issue, the more important it is that I do that. This may not mean anything to you, but for me, for a politician, doing what the politics tells me to do is roughly the same thing as doing what you think is right is for you. It's not exactly noble, but I do think it's defensible."

Harry said nothing for a minute after Bright stopped speaking, trying to calm himself. He was angry with Bright, but at the same time, he felt that he shouldn't be, since he himself was conflicted. He could understand the general principle of following the will of the people; it just seemed to be a really bad idea in a case like this, where public anger could cause people to collectively act in terribly immoral ways. But then, he thought, who was he to be the judge of what was moral or what was not? Even Dumbledore had said that there was no absolute right and wrong, universally speaking. But this just seemed so obvious...

Calmer now, Harry looked at Bright in an almost pleading way. "It doesn't bother you that this is about revenge? It bothers me."

A small amount of uncertainty showed on Bright's face. "I'd much rather that had nothing to do with it. But if there are two reasons for doing a thing, a good reason and a bad reason, we shouldn't not do it just because the bad reason exists. If people support it for what we feel is the wrong reason, at least we can take solace in knowing that we supported it for the right reasons.

"If it makes you feel any better, Harry, I'm not totally sanguine about this. I'd rather not be the one in this office when the state put thirty-odd people to death. I just feel that this is what I should do, that the circumstances demand it. It makes it easier for me that the politics are what they are, but that aside, I just don't think I can bring myself to endanger lives to uphold a principle, no matter how important that principle is. I'd like to do the right thing. But I can't."

It dawned on Harry that there was no chance for him to change Bright's mind. "Archibald said that I might be able to stop it by myself. If I tried, would you fight me?"

Bright shook his head sadly. "No, I wouldn't. By the way, that was this morning; if you're serious, you need to talk to him again, Hogsmeade has changed things. You have a lot of clout, but it would be an uphill battle. But I wouldn't fight you. I have enough regard for you that I also wouldn't set myself up to benefit from your fall, though some in the Ministry would; they would know that your position was a likely loser in the long run, and oppose you now in anticipation of being proved right later, so they could score political points. If you did this, I'd just keep a low profile, silently cheer you on, and pray that if you won, there were no more jailbreaks or massacres."

"But you're the Minister of Magic, wouldn't you be the one making the final decision?"

"Sort of," Bright agreed, "but I could, and would, do it in such a way that it was clear that I was responding to the wishes of the people, in this case, those who agreed with you. You would be trying to rally public opinion; my role would be almost that of an arbiter. I would be an impartial judge of whether you had done it or not; you would create the political change that I would be responding to. But I hope you won't do it."

"I thought you'd just as soon not see this happen," Harry pointed out.

"Not for that reason," Bright clarified. "But if there's an escape and more killings-" He cut himself off as Harry nodded.

"Archibald and Professor McGonagall have already mentioned that," he said. "I appreciate it. So, do I need to let you know if I'm going to do this? I mean, you're going to have to announce your position soon, I'd guess."

"If you do it, letting me know by tomorrow night would be good. Strictly speaking, politically, I should get out in front of this as soon as I can, since I can see where it's going. Tomorrow's Prophet will be full of quotes from Ministry people in loud support; I'll hold off until Monday's Prophet. Partly to give the appearance of thoughtful deliberation, and partly as a subtle signal of my discomfort with it. So... tomorrow night, by eight o'clock, let's say, which is close to the Prophet's deadline."

Harry nodded, and after a few seconds, started to stand, assuming they were finished. Bright held up a hand, indicating that Harry shouldn't go yet. Resuming his seat, Harry looked at Bright expectantly.

"Harry... maybe I shouldn't say this, but somebody should, and I don't know if anyone has. When we first met, I said you were leading the anti-Voldemort forces, and you found that a little difficult to accept. I have a feeling you may accept it now, but I'm wondering if you haven't accepted it a bit too much." Puzzled, Harry wondered what Bright was talking about. "You're acting as though this is only your decision to make. It's not, it's all of us. Yes, a lot of people will follow your lead, and you've earned that. But it doesn't mean that you should necessarily ask them to, that you should substitute your judgment for theirs. And most importantly... if you choose not to fight this, you cannot think that you're responsible, because you might have been able to stop it. If you do choose to fight it, and win, and there are more deaths, you can't think you're responsible for that, either. Just because you're the one who'll probably beat Voldemort doesn't make you responsible for everything. This is not only about you."

Harry still felt responsible, but found that Bright's last comment had affected him. "Are you saying that my ego's got too big?"

"Not ego in the sense of 'look at me, I'm so great,'" clarified Bright. "But in a way, yes, at least you've come across that way when talking to me. Maybe, ego in the sense of self-importance. You are quite important, of course, so it would be understandable. I just think it's a little worrisome that you've taken this issue upon yourself the way you have. Yes, it may be the greatest moral issue of our generation, and yes, we may be making a mistake. But that doesn't make it yours to fix."

Harry stared off into space, feeling as though he suddenly had too much to think about. He slowly nodded. "Well... I guess I should get going. Thanks for seeing me."

"Any time," said Bright.

* * * * *

Returning via the Burrow's fireplace, Harry quickly explained to Arthur, Molly, Ginny, and Pansy what had happened, then went upstairs to lie down for a while. He entered the bedroom to find Ron looking through his trunk.

"So, how'd it go?"

Harry shook his head as he sat on his bed. Ron nodded, clearly not surprised. "I'd have been shocked if he'd said yes," said Ron. "After you left, Dad was saying he thought it would be a miracle if you got Bright to oppose it. We talked about it a bit."

"How do your parents feel about it?"

"About like you'd expect. Dad's against it, Mum supports it. Neither is totally comfortable with what they think. But with this kind of thing, I feel like if you are totally sure, you're not thinking about it very hard."

"Bright's totally sure, politically, just not morally," reported Harry. "But he's not going to let that stop him. From what you said at breakfast, I guess I don't have to ask how you feel."

Ron nodded solemnly. "Not that I'm happy about it, but yes, I'm okay with it. If I had any doubts at all, there's one thing that puts it over the top for me." Harry could see the emotion in Ron's eyes that Ron was trying to keep off his face. "I don't know if this has occurred to you specifically, but if this happens, Malfoy dies."

Harry felt his own emotion rise as he understood Ron's point: Malfoy had made threats against Pansy that he no doubt still wanted to make good on, and his death was the only way they could be sure that he never would. If he lived, Pansy had to spend the rest of her life wondering if Malfoy might one day escape, hunt her down, and somehow manage to abduct her without the others knowing. It was very unlikely, Harry knew, but not impossible, and that made it something to be taken very seriously.

"No, I hadn't thought about it exactly like that," admitted Harry, feeling ashamed that he hadn't. "I can see why you would. I assume she agrees with you?"

"I think she does, but she hasn't said so exactly. The one time I asked her, she didn't give a direct answer, and changed the subject. Maybe she feels like she's too close to it, I don't know."

Harry recalled that Pansy hadn't spoken up any time the topic of capital punishment had come up, and wondered if this was the reason. He thought about her, about the difference it would make to her life if Malfoy were no longer around. He knew that it didn't make killing the Death Eaters any more right, but he also knew he couldn't ignore it.

Ron looked at Harry, seeming indecisive about whether to say what he was going to say. Finally, emotion clear in both his voice and his eyes, he said, "Harry... she's had nightmares."

Harry winced internally, and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, since he'd had nightmares about Cedric, and Voldemort returning, and what Pansy had gone through had been worse.

"Do you hope I won't fight this?" he asked.

"Yes, I do," said Ron. "But that wasn't why I told you that. I know how you feel about her. If I were you, thinking about this kind of decision, I'd want to know something like that."

"You're right, I would have wanted to know," agreed Harry. "Do you think Neville cares one way or the other what happens to Lestrange?"

"I don't think so," said Ron. "With him and her, that was just revenge, and I think he's over that, or at least, over it enough. But this isn't revenge, it's prevention."

Nodding, Harry suddenly realized that Pansy's situation had a certain basic similarity to the larger situation: revenge and protection from possible future harm were both possible motivating factors for wanting the Death Eaters to be killed, as well as in Pansy's situation. Pansy's was more direct and more dire, but it seemed to Harry that if he considered Pansy's protection essential enough to allow Malfoy to die, then he should feel that way about everyone.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon with Ginny; he tried not to think about the Death Eater situation, but found it hard not to. He paid Kingsley a quick visit before dinner, and found that the Aurors weren't taking an official position, but that a good deal of them had no problem with the Death Eaters being executed. "Losing the five yesterday was more than an emotional blow," Kingsley had explained to Harry. "Out of thirty-eight, five is a huge number to lose, and we're using a certain amount of manpower to keep the Death Eaters we're keeping. We can't be as effective as we'd like to be. Without that tying us down, we can do better."

He talked to Hermione and Neville, and confirmed that they both opposed the executions, though neither was able to say they did unreservedly. Ginny supported them mainly because it would make Harry and the Aurors safer. Fred and George came by for dinner, and Harry found that they supported them unreservedly. They brushed off Arthur's questions about morality, causing Harry to exchange glances with Ron and Hermione. Fortunately for Harry-he'd wanted everyone's opinion, but was becoming tired of the topic-Molly changed the subject quickly.

The next day after lunch, Harry took Fawkes over to Hogwarts. He found McGonagall at the teachers' table in the otherwise empty Great Hall, having a late lunch. "How's he doing?" he asked.

"It's hard to know, since of course this has never been done before," said McGonagall. "He is... very disoriented, and is in and out of pain. He has been sedated for some of the time, and asleep for much of the time, since he had not slept the night before. What is the disposition of the other part of him?"

"He wasn't there last night, Albus said he had rejoined himself."

"So, it was successful?" she asked, surprised. "We have seen no hint of that as yet."

"Maybe it's hard for him to get used to having his other half back, or maybe he just needs to recover more for it to happen. Can I see him?"

"Certainly. I was just finishing anyway." She stood, and he followed her out.

"Is he alone right now?" asked Harry.

"Mathilda is with him." To his puzzled glance, she explained, "Healer Haspberg. I do not feel comfortable taking him to St. Mungo's, as his condition is sufficiently rare, and... personal, that I wish as few people to know about it as possible, not to mention its connection to what you plan to do with Voldemort. It cannot be known."

When they arrived at Snape's quarters, he entered after her. They walked through the living area and entered the bedroom. "Minerva... ah, hello, Professor Potter."

"Any change?" asked McGonagall.

"Not really. He's been mostly staring off into space for the past hour, which is better than when he's not." To Harry, she continued, "Minerva has explained all this to me, though not thoroughly, since she tells me that even you can't quite say completely what you did. I've been trying to help him stay comfortable, since that's about all I can do. When he's not staring off into space, he's usually in pain, and sometimes babbling. About Professor Dumbledore, you, Voldemort, Minerva, and so on. The pain is... the best way I can describe it is that it's as if he's doing something, touching something, then cries in pain and backs away. Not physically, of course, but that is what it sounds like when he does it."

"Maybe he's trying to approach positive memories, and finding that they still cause him pain," suggested McGonagall.

Harry frowned. "I don't know, but it really felt like I did what I should have done. I thought I undid everything Voldemort did. But maybe I didn't do it enough, it's just impossible to know."

"Well, Harry, oddly enough, you're the Healer here," said McGonagall wryly. "No offense," she added to Haspberg.

"None taken, of course," Haspberg assured her.

Shaking his head, Harry said, "I'm not sure what to do." He thought for a minute. "I know one thing to do that's safe. I'll do Legilimency on him, check to see what it is he's seeing when he does this, when he just stares." He pointed his wand at Snape and cast Legilimens.

Two minutes later, he lowered his wand. "What he's doing is viewing old memories, memories of Albus's. But it seems different; I've seen people remembering memories before. It's like, he's totally absorbed in the memory, and isn't aware of anything else. I guess that's why it seems to us that he's staring off into space."

"Why is he doing that?" wondered McGonagall. "Because it's safe?"

"I think so," said Harry. "If I had to guess-and I suppose I do-I'd say that his 'other half' has joined him, but when he goes into his regular consciousness, he feels the pain that Voldemort programmed him to feel if his other half was there. So, I must not have got all of it. But the strange thing is, why would his other half have joined him, if his mind wasn't ready for it? Did his other half think I was successful, and I wasn't? Because obviously I wasn't."

"Can we be sure of that?" asked Haspberg.

"The pain he experiences when not viewing memories would seem to indicate that," said McGonagall, "but again, this is so unprecedented, one cannot make any assumptions of any sort."

"There's one way we can find out for sure," said Harry, reluctantly. "I can do the Imperius Charm on him. If I was successful, it shouldn't hurt him. If there's still stuff there, it'll cause him pain. Do you think I should do it?"

McGonagall and Haspberg exchanged blank expressions. "As Minerva said, you are the Healer here. Sometimes Healers have to do things that cause pain in order to get information. If there is no other way to know, then you should do it."

Regretfully, he said, "I'm pretty sure there's no other way to know, so I guess I'd better do it." He leaned over a little toward Snape. "Professor Snape, I'm going to do the Imperius Charm now." Still in what appeared to be a trance, Snape gave no reaction whatsoever to Harry's warning. Hoping for the best, Harry applied the Imperius Charm.

Snape's reaction was immediate: he screamed in pain, in a way roughly similar to how he had when Harry had done it to him in early September. Frustrated, Harry withdrew the Charm. "Dammit," he exclaimed.

"It is not your fault," said McGonagall softly.

"Do you have any ideas about what to do next?" asked Haspberg.

"I don't see much choice but to do what I did yesterday, again," said Harry, resigned. "I guess it's hard to know just how much to do at once. But I still can't figure out why his other half came back if this wasn't totally done."

"Perhaps the other half felt that you needed a way to know when the procedure was truly done, and he knew that he could take refuge in the memories until such a time as that was done," suggested McGonagall.

"I thought the way I would know it was truly done was when the other half came back," said Harry. "But that seems like the best guess right now. Healer Haspberg, is there something you can give him to put him out? He doesn't need to be conscious when I do this."

Haspberg waved her wand, and Snape's eyes closed. "He should be unconscious for about an hour," she said.

"This shouldn't take that long," said Harry as he sat in the chair next to the bed. "I'm not going to do it for as long as I did yesterday." He cast Legilimens, and began.

Sitting at the teachers' table in the Great Hall, Harry looked out into the audience. Over two hundred people faced him and the others; the tables had been moved out of the Hall, and chairs conjured. Six Aurors lined the walls of the Hall, along with Neville and Ron, in their Auror robes. Harry knew that several more were patrolling the Hogwarts grounds on brooms. Hogwarts had been chosen as the site for the meeting not because Hogwarts was the topic, but because of its security.

McGonagall introduced Harry and the other teachers present, then gave an opening statement, which took about five minutes. She explained the magical defenses which protected Hogwarts, and assured the parents that all possible measures were being taken to ensure their children's safety. Harry felt that the speech was short on specifics, but he knew that the parents would be asking for more details.

She opened the floor to questions, and a few dozen hands went up. We're going to be here for a while, thought Harry. She pointed at a man, who stood. "I'm Anton Rosenthal, Daniel's father," he announced. "Let me ask the obvious question first: If Hogwarts is so safe, how did five assassins gain access to the castle?"

"As I have explained in the Daily Prophet, Ministry guidelines state that no information regarding our knowledge, or lack of knowledge, of Death Eater methods may be released publicly. I will simply say that the castle is safe."

"Is it more safe, less safe, or as safe as it was ten days ago?" he challenged her.

"I am very sorry, but I have said all I can say in response to your question," she answered, giving him a look that Harry knew well, the one that meant 'you should know better than to ask.' Obviously unconvinced, Rosenthal resumed his seat.

She gestured to a middle-aged woman, who stood. "If you have to choose between the students' safety and what's best in the battle with... the Death Eaters and their leader, which will you choose?" she asked, a little nervously. Harry realized that she was nervous not because of McGonagall, but because she had considered saying Voldemort's name and... chickened out, thought Harry uncharitably. Clearly not everyone was saying Voldemort's name yet.

"I do not accept that there must be a conflict between the two," said McGonagall. "But I will tell you that the protection of Hogwarts students is my top priority."

Standing as he spoke, not waiting to be called on, a man said, "But you tried to send Harry away when the assassins attacked, and he ended up being the one to catch them. If you were thinking of the students first, wouldn't you have made sure he stayed?"

"Hindsight is all very well," she said irritably, seeming to be making an effort to hide her irritation, and failing. "In the moment, it was clear who their target was; it did not seem out of line to get him to safety. Yes?"

A blond-haired man who looked no older than thirty-five, but Harry assumed must have been older, stood. "My name is Edward Creevey; all three of my children attend this school. We are told-and as you may be aware, my wife and I are what you call 'Muggles,' so some of this is rather new to us-we are told by our children that there is a new type of magical energy based on love, which they all are not far from mastering. They also told us, somewhat reluctantly, that those who manifest that ability are targeted by this Voldemort wizard who threatens your world, and whose hand... er, well, never mind." Some chuckles spread through the Hall, and Harry couldn't help but glance over at Hermione, who gave him a quick grin. "My question is, Professor Potter, should they manifest this ability, exactly how much danger will they be in?

Harry could sympathize; he imagined that the situation would be confusing for Muggles, and with all three of his children there... "First of all, Mr. Creevey, did your children explain the priority that Voldemort instructed the assassins-"

Harry cut himself off as Creevey nodded. "Yes, they did. But another thing, why was that information not printed in that magical newspaper?"

"The tactic was clearly designed to intimidate students into not learning the energy of love," explained McGonagall. "It was decided that we would do best not to assist Voldemort in his attempts at intimidation by spreading it ourselves. The news spread throughout the school quickly, in any case."

"To answer the question," added Harry, "the more people there are who can do it, the less danger there is for each one. For the ones right now, we think he's highly unlikely to target them individually, but protection has been arranged for them anyway."

Halfway back, along the right side, Winston stood. "Excuse me, I'm Winston Clark. I'm an Auror, but am here today as a parent. You may know that my daughter Helen is one of the three who can do the spells; she's told me about your situation. If your child, any child, becomes able to do the spells, you'll get a visit from an Auror to discuss security arrangements." Harry noticed that Winston didn't mention that the security arrangements were as much for the parents as the children; he could definitely understand why Winston didn't mention it. "Honestly, it's more in the nature of a precaution than anything else."

Looking somewhat, though not completely, reassured, Creevey sat down. McGonagall found another questioner, and gestured to a dark-skinned man near the back. "I am Rajiv Patil, father of twin seventh-year daughters. My question is also for Professor Potter. Part of your curriculum for your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes is combat flying." This prompted some whispering and quiet comments; apparently many parents had not known. "My daughters have said that you are teaching it in anticipation of a possible attack on the castle. My question is, do you not think that's quite a risky thing even for seventh years to be doing?"

Harry could see that many parents were surprised, and realized that he had to calm most of them down. "First of all, I'm only teaching it to the sixth and seventh years; I wasn't thinking that anyone younger than seventeen would join the battle, if there is one. Secondly, I'm not urging anyone to join; people are completely welcome to return to the common rooms, or whatever place students may be sent."

He was going to continue, but Patil cut him off. "I think you are deliberately misunderstanding me, Professor. I know they can choose not to fight. I am saying that your teaching it may cause many to do so where they would not have otherwise."

Harry couldn't deny that that was probably true, so he decided not to address the point directly. He suddenly had an idea. "Excuse me, everyone. I'm going to ask a question, and I'd like a show of hands. If, during your seventh year at Hogwarts, there had been an attack on the castle, how many of you would have tried to get a broom and go help out?" Harry held his breath as hands slowly went up; he knew he would look bad if very few did. After ten seconds, to Harry's relief, many hands were up.

"About half. That's about what I thought for this class, too. I was concerned that people might do that, but not know what to do once they got out there. I'm not saying people should join; I've made it clear to every class that it isn't something I expect, or especially want. I want everyone to be safe. But for those who want to, like those of you who raised your hands, I want them to be prepared."

A parent near Patil asked him, "Do your daughters want to join?"

Patil nodded. "Yes, both do. I'd rather they didn't, of course, but I know that I can't stop them. I'm proud that they want to, but... well, you are all parents, you know how I feel about it."

This prompted more comments, and another nearby person spoke, standing as he did. "Well, I for one think it's an excellent idea," said a dark-haired man with a thick mustache. "John Andrew Macmillan, father of Ernie, Head Boy of Hogwarts. I applaud Professor Potter's foresight and initiative. We must all fight the forces of darkness, especially when they arrive on one's doorstep." The comment prompted no further reaction, and McGonagall scanned the audience again. She motioned to a man near the front.

He stood. "I'm Raymond Turpin, father of Ellen, a Ravenclaw fifth year. My question is for Professor Potter. I wondered whether you thought it might be a good idea for you to take a sabbatical."

"I'm sorry, a what?"

"A long break," Turpin explained. "My thought was that if you weren't at Hogwarts, the Death Eaters' attention wouldn't be so focused in that direction, and my... remaining daughter would be safer."

Harry winced internally; even if he hadn't seen the accusation in Turpin's eyes, he would have understood it from the question. Before he could answer, McGonagall cut in. "Professor Potter is a student here, and has as much right to attend as anyone else."

"I wasn't questioning his rights, just wondering if he thought it might be a good idea," responded Turpin, with a stony stare at McGonagall. "And my question was directed to him, not you."

Harry's emotions were in turmoil; he felt as if he had been accused, in front of two hundred people, of responsibility for the deaths that had taken place at Hogwarts since last year. Since becoming a teacher, he had never felt any difficulty in speaking before large audiences... until now. He remembered Hogsmeade, he remembered the bodies of the Slytherins slumped over the sofas and chairs of their common room. He stared, feeling that he didn't know what to say.

He had a sudden feeling of calm, of confidence, and realized it was from Hermione. It's not your fault, she sent him. He's grieving, but that doesn't mean it was your fault. Realize what he's going through, and just answer honestly.

Repressing an impulse to look down the table at Hermione, he sent her a feeling of appreciation. He still felt distressed, but with a perspective he hadn't had a few seconds ago. "No. I don't think it would be a good idea."

"You don't think my daughter would be safer?"

After a brief pause, Harry replied, "She might be, in the short run. But she wouldn't be, in the long run. We all wouldn't be. Doing that would only encourage Voldemort to intimidate other parts of society. We have to have better security, but as much as we can, do what we would normally do."

Anger in his voice, Turpin said, "Excuse me, Professor, but right now I don't care about encouraging him, or about other parts of society. I want to make sure I don't lose another daughter."

The very last thing Harry wanted to do was publicly argue with a parent who had lost a child at Hogwarts, but he felt he had to rebut the notion that he should leave Hogwarts. He could feel Hermione still supporting him, sending him feelings of calm and love. "Sir, do you think that I should have left Hogwarts?" Turpin nodded. "When?" asked Harry.

"Before my daughter died," said Turpin sharply.

Again wincing slightly inside at the accusation, Harry nevertheless continued toward the point he was trying to make. "So, I assume you also think I never should have urged the students to say Voldemort's name. None of this would have ever happened if I hadn't done that. Is that right?"

Looking a little uncertain, Turpin nodded again. "But if I hadn't done that, I would never have discovered the energy of love, which has turned out to be something he's extremely vulnerable to. It's going to be what defeats him. We have to fight him, wherever we are. I happen to be here."

"You might feel differently," shot back Turpin, "if you had lost a child."

The words were out of Harry's mouth before he knew it. "If you think I haven't-" He paused suddenly, realizing his voice was about to break. In the absolute silence, he took a breath, then continued, "...suffered enormously for everyone who's died here, then you're very wrong. And I've lost people too. Professor Dumbledore, my godfather... not to mention my parents, you might have heard about that." He immediately felt a pang of regret for taking that tone with a grieving father, but he thought he had a good point. "We're all in this together, Mr. Turpin. If we start ducking our heads down because he attacks us, or kills people around us, he wins. There's nothing to do but fight back. I know it's horrible, but that's the way it is."

"A different standard should apply to places where there are many children," insisted Turpin, clearly unimpressed.

"This is one of the safest places in the wizarding world," said McGonagall. "The fact that the assassins managed to get in simply points up the fact that Voldemort is very resourceful. At this point, Professor Potter leaving is out of the question. The school is a safer place with him than without him, and there are other targets for Voldemort here as well. You know that all students who have learned to use the energy of love were targets of that attack; should they be required to leave? Or me, for that matter, because I have publicly opposed him and worked against him? And we should not forget that Hogwarts would, with its defenses, be an ideal base of operations for the Death Eaters, and would be a target in any case.

"Hogwarts is an important part of our society," she continued, now addressing the whole Hall, not just Turpin. "It cannot be separated from the rest of it so easily. It is the formative place for our future citizens, our future leaders. I would not like to think of it as a place where we teach our future citizens to hide from danger, to not speak out, to not call evil by its name."

"No, much better that it's a place where children are killed," responded Turpin bitterly. Turning to face the other parents, he raised his voice and asked, "Is there anyone here whose child was killed, like mine was, who agrees with what they're saying?"

There was a silence, then a woman with long, black hair stood. "I have a third-year daughter; my son, then a third year, was one of the four killed in the attack on Hogsmeade last Halloween," she began, at first speaking slowly and nervously; Harry guessed that she'd never spoken in front of so many people before. "Mr. Turpin, you obviously think that Professors Potter and McGonagall can't understand your grief, even though they've both lost people close to them. Believe me, I can. I admit, when my son was killed, at first I blamed Professor Potter, as you clearly do now." Listening, Harry felt his chest tighten. Albus said they didn't blame me! "But over time, I realized that they're right. Everything Harry's done has been the right thing to do. I agree that children should be safe, and I pray that nothing happens to my daughter. But I'd rather accept this kind of risk than have them grow up in a world, as all our children have, where they had to be afraid to say any particular wizard's name. There's something very wrong with that."

To Harry's surprise, a few people applauded, and it grew to soon include what he guessed was more than three-quarters of the parents in the Hall. He was gratified at the support, and felt that the most pointed of the questioning was probably over. He struggled to keep his concentration on the proceedings, and off the thing that disturbed him most.

At the end of the meeting, Harry wanted nothing more than to go to his quarters and sit alone for a while. He couldn't, though, because McGonagall had asked all the attending teachers to remain near the exits and chat briefly with departing parents. Never fond of that kind of activity, Harry gamely did so anyway, Hermione at his side. Most of the comments were complimentary. Harry assured Mr. Creevey that his children would be fine, and asked him to say hello.

Harry was approached by a witch with short, light brown hair. "Professor, I'm Maya Abbott," she said, shaking Harry's hand. "I was very impressed with what you said. May I ask you a question?" Harry nodded. "This seemed a bit off the topic of the meeting, but I would very much like to know, how do you feel about the executions that are being planned?"

A few parents who seemed to have been on their way out paused, interested to see how he answered the question. Not this, not now, he thought, but he knew he had to say something. "I, um, I don't know what I'm going to do about that."

Abbott looked sympathetic, apparently noticing his reluctance, but pressed her question anyway. "I didn't ask you what you would do, Professor. I asked you how you felt."

He sighed, knowing that his answer was unlikely to please her. "What I feel, is that killing is wrong, whether we do it or the Death Eaters do it."

To his surprise, her eyes lit up. "I'm very glad to hear you say that," she enthused. "I think this is wrong, too, but I've been having a hard time finding people who feel the same way-"

"I should bloody well hope so," snapped a man nearby. "After all they've done? I live in Hogsmeade, I know some of the people who were just killed." To Harry, he demanded, "You don't think they should pay for what they've done?"

"Of course I do," he answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "I'd just rather we didn't kill them. I know there are good reasons, I just said how I felt."

"If we don't do this, it means we're not serious about the Death Eaters," the man said to Abbott. "We might as well authorize them for every fireplace in the country, let them do what they want. How many more people have to die before we do something?"

"Ethics are not situational," she retorted with distaste. "It's never all right to steal, it's never all right to torture. And it's never all right to kill. At least Harry understands that."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but the man spoke first. "Is your child here a son or a daughter?"

"Hannah, she's a seventh-year prefect," said Ms. Abbott proudly.

"And if you had to kill someone or watch them kill Hannah, what would you do?" the man asked.

"I reject the premise of the question-"

"Because you don't want to answer it," finished the man. "Accept it or not, that's the situation we're in. Or do you not agree with that?" he challenged Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. "No, I do agree, that's almost exactly our situation."

"And if someone was going to kill her?" he prompted, gesturing to Hermione.

"Because of the energy of love, I don't know if I'm capable, literally, of killing. But I would do whatever it took to protect her, whether it was wrong or not." The man nodded in satisfaction. To Abbott, Harry said, "The cost of doing the right thing in this situation would probably be very high, we have to admit that. I just don't know if I can deal with paying it. I've seen too many innocent people die already. Excuse me." With most of the parents already having left the Hall, Harry headed for the teachers' table.

By the time he got there, the last of the parents had gone. He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. He felt overwhelmed, drained. After a minute, he felt a hand gripping his shoulder, and he didn't have to look to know who it was. Without looking, he patted the hand on his shoulder. He looked up to say something, and gave a start as he saw McGonagall looking down at him.

She chuckled gently at his reaction. "You thought it was Hermione. Understandable, don't worry about it." She took a seat next to him, hand still on his shoulder. "I know that was very difficult for you."

He nodded. "That's putting it mildly. Next time, I won't be so quick to volunteer for something like this."

"I was surprised that you did," she agreed. "I did warn you, though perhaps not enough. Archibald was right, you certainly did take the pressure off of me. Unfortunately, it went straight to you, and I think you are barely in a position to deal with more than you already have."

He thought about Dumbledore, and the sadness came back to him again. "Minerva," he said quietly, "did you know he lied to me about that?"

With a small, sympathetic smile, she met his eyes and said, "You must really be upset, to call me 'Minerva.'" She moved her hand off his shoulder and took his left hand. "I wasn't with him when he met the relatives that day. I do not know for a fact that he lied; perhaps she did not communicate that to him at that time."

Getting an impression, Harry concentrated for a few seconds. "No, he did lie. He just sent me... I think it was what he was feeling at the time. Sadness, he was so sad... for the relatives, for me." He unconsciously gripped McGonagall's hand a little harder. "It's amazing, communicating this way. It just took a second for me to get what he sent me, but it would probably take a few minutes to say it, and words wouldn't say it as well. He knew I would blame myself, he was afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it, the responsibility I'd feel. He needed me to get through it, I was precarious enough as it was. He chose to save me from the pain I'd feel then if I found out, at the cost of what I feel now. I also get the feeling that he felt that he knew they wouldn't really blame me once they recovered from their grief, so what he said wasn't really that untrue."

"I can very much understand why he did it, Harry. I probably would have done the same."

Harry nodded, staring ahead into the empty Hall. "It helps a lot for him to have sent what he did. It's good for empathy, to be able to feel just what someone else was feeling. He felt bad about lying to me, even though it was to help me. He hated to do it."

"I can well imagine," she agreed. "He was always honest, to a fault. In this case, being honest would have been more of a fault."

They sat in silence for a minute, then Harry's five friends filed in and walked up to the teachers' table. "How are you doing?" asked a concerned Ginny.

"A little better, thanks," he said. Knowing they had come to get him, he asked McGonagall, "Should I go look in on Professor Snape?"

She shook her head. "I'll go and relieve Mathilda. I'll let you know if there's anything that seems to require your attention. Meanwhile, let's give it another day before we think about you doing anything more."

He squeezed her hand again before letting go of it and standing. "Thanks." He met his friends at the end of the table, took Ginny's hand, and followed them out.

At the Burrow, Harry relaxed by half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa, Ginny in his arms. The others were in and out of the living room; nobody talked much about the aspect of the meeting that had affected Harry, but they traded impressions of the parents, most of whom they had never met. "Now, I don't wonder anymore how Ernie got like he is," remarked Ron at one point. "Tallyho, and all that."

"He wouldn't be like that if he'd seen half of the stuff we've seen," said Neville confidently. "There's something about grim reality that takes away that kind of..."

"Bravado?" suggested Hermione.

Neville nodded. "Yes, thanks. I always know that if I pause long enough, you'll come up with the word I want."

"If you've said enough of the sentence that I can guess," she said.

Molly came through the fireplace; she had been gone since the meeting, which she had attended. She walked over to Harry, leaned over, and kissed the top of his head. "I'm never promising you anything again," she mock-scolded him, referring to his earlier insistence that she not stand up to defend him if he was criticized. "It just killed me to have to sit there and listen to that. And the people around me, they were looking at me as if to say, isn't she going to say something?"

"But it wouldn't have looked good, a professor and Head of House's mother getting up to defend him," he pointed out. He knew that she understood that he meant that she was a mother figure to him, and was perceived that way. "And, people would have assumed anything you said was for that reason."

"And, if someone you love is being attacked like that, you don't care," she chided him. "You should know. If someone was saying those things to Ginny, you'd forget about any promises you'd made." Harry nodded in acknowledgment. "I just felt so bad, none of us could do anything to help you."

"Hermione could. As soon as Turpin basically said I was responsible for Lisa's death, she started sending... emotional reinforcement, I guess you'd call it." He looked over at her with appreciation.

"I had a feeling, I was going to ask at some point," said Neville. "I would have been surprised if you weren't. It was so unfair, it seemed like he set up the question just so he could say what he wanted to say, that Harry was responsible. I'm glad you were able to do that."

"Me, too," added Ginny. Harry squeezed Ginny, glad that she wasn't bothered by the use of the phoenixes as she had been before. She reached up and kissed his cheek, then snuggled into his shoulder.

"Let's just hope there won't be any more of those meetings," said Molly.

A while later, Pansy got up and went upstairs. Having been looking for a chance to talk to her alone, Harry went up a few minutes later. He found her in the girls' bedroom. He stuck his head in the door, asking, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," she said, gesturing him to the bed next to hers. "I bet I know what it's about. I think I'm the only one you haven't talked to yet."

"Didn't happen to find you alone. So, what would you do if you were me?"

"Go to Diagon Alley and let myself be fawned over and told how good I am, maybe sign a few autographs," she joked. Turning serious, she said, "Oh, Harry, I'm really not comfortable with the idea of influencing your decision."

"Join the club, I'm not comfortable with the idea of making it," he half-joked. "But I'm stuck with it, so I want your help."

"I just... I don't feel like I can give an unbiased opinion," she admitted. "The thing with Malfoy shouldn't matter to it-"

"Of course it matters," he interjected.

"But if killing people is wrong, and you're right about that, then it shouldn't matter."

"But it does, though," he said firmly. "It's like a personal reminder of what I could be doing. If I risk other people's lives by doing this, I have to risk yours as well. If I were Albus, I probably would. But one thing I've discovered lately is that I'm not Albus. It can't not matter to me, I can't not consider it. And I still want to know what you think."

Pansy sighed in surrender. "I would let them be killed, and I wouldn't lose any sleep over it. You may not be Albus, but you're a lot closer to being him than I am. I feel bad about it, but I can't let the principle bother me that much. And... I'd make the same choice whether they had Malfoy or not, but-and some part of me isn't happy that I feel this way-the fact that this would mean his death makes it more appealing to me."

Harry could see in her eyes her discomfort at feeling that way. "I don't think anyone would blame you for that. What you went through, what you still could... I remember thinking before, after Easter, that the only way you could ever have real peace of mind was if he died, and now, here it is, that very situation."

"And, to make it worse, you get a say in whether it happens or not," she said. "I don't envy you."

"Me neither," he agreed. "And that's why I need to know what you all think. I guess it makes me feel less alone."

"You're never alone," she assured him. "Hermione was right, you're never alone." His eyebrows shot up; he wondered whether she meant what he thought she meant. She noticed his reaction. "Yes, she told me, both about that and what happened the next day. It was really sweet of her."

He nodded, remembering. "It really was. It was like she was lying next to me, holding me, comforting me... but even better than that. The feelings, when you get them directly like that..."

"She also told me about what happened that day, the day we found out about Blaise, and what you did to make her feel better. She was so amazed, she didn't know the power it could have. I have to admit, I'm a little envious, and it doesn't even involve Ron or I in any way. You know, you really want to be careful what you say to Ginny."

"Do you think I shouldn't have said what I said down there?"

Pansy shook her head. "No, that was exactly the situation where she should do that, and I'm sure Ginny was sincere in what she said. It's just that, as you know, it's very sensitive. I've talked to Ginny about this, too. Since I'm the one not involved, I hear about it from both of them, but it's hard for them to talk to each other; there's too much possibility of a problem. You probably know this, but Ginny feels bad that she feels the way she does about it. She does her best to be understanding, but she can't help being frustrated about this sometimes. And you know, Harry... if I were in her position, I'd feel exactly the same way. You should never be mad at her for feeling the way she does."

"I'm not," he said, sad that Ginny was unhappy in a way he couldn't do anything to change. "Do you think that not telling her about what Hermione did that night was the right thing to do?"

"Yes," said Pansy immediately, her tone suggesting that the answer was obvious. "I think the less you tell her about this, the better."

"I'm just afraid it'll seem like I'm trying to hide things from her."

"I can understand that, but I think she'll understand the reason."

"But, remember... oh, wait, you didn't see that. Back at the end of June, when Snape accepted me as the person to replace Albus, he gave me permission to tell Ginny because he saw that it would make my life really difficult if he didn't. When she found out, Ginny was unhappy at the idea that she wouldn't have been told, even though it would have been easier for her not to know."

"That's a different situation," argued Pansy. "In that case, it was a difficulty of yours that she could help you with, and she didn't feel bad about being unhappy that your memories would be viewed. Here, it's not a challenge for you; there's nothing she could do to help you, and she feels bad at being upset. Telling her every time it happens may be honest, but it would be unnecessarily hurtful."

He nodded; he still didn't like it, but he couldn't argue with her. Curious, he asked, "How are things going with you and Ron?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's told you all about everything," she joked.

"Yes, you know how he loves talking about relationships," Harry responded with a smile.

"He does better with me, actually," she said. "I think he knows he has to, and he doesn't seem to mind. But we're doing fine. There's no problems, or at least, nothing serious." With a gleam in her eyes, she added, "We're looking forward to spending some time together during the vacation. Which reminds me... Ron would never ask you, but you mentioned having a copy of your Ring of Reduction. Maybe as a little project, you could modify the second room, like you talked about."

Harry chuckled. "That sounds like a good idea. It would be a nice distraction."

"I think Ginny has other ideas for your distraction," teased Pansy. "But thanks. And the sooner the better, we don't have that much vacation left."

"I'll get right on it," he assured her. "And... thanks, for everything."

"Anytime you want to talk, I'm here."

He left, then went to the boys' bedroom and lay on the bed. Thinking about the executions, he found that his mind was 99% made up: he was almost certain that he would decide to do nothing to stop them. He knew that Turpin was grieving, but not totally wrong: Harry did attract danger wherever he went. Those people could easily escape, and he knew he would feel responsible for whatever they did if that happened. He also felt that the man who had argued with Maya Abbott had a good point, that it was more or less a choice between the lives of the Death Eaters and the lives of their future victims. Albus would have done this, thought Harry, he would have led a crusade to stop it. But I don't think I can. I know he said I had to make my own decisions, but I hate this one. They're both terrible. And I do feel like I have blood on my hands if I let this go forward. Everyone will tell me I shouldn't feel like that, but I do. I know Bright said it's not all about me, and he's right. But the fact is that I might be able to stop it. Could I look those people in the eye and tell them that I agreed to their deaths? He realized that there was one more thing he had to do before he could stop thinking about the situation.

Harry walked down the halls of the Auror compound; Kingsley had given him directions, even though he had been there once before. The prisoners' cells were spread apart to keep them from communicating, even though they were usually Silenced as a matter of course. Harry turned right, and was soon at the cell he remembered.

He stood in front of the cell and saw the figure lying on the simple bed, pointing away from him. He lifted the Silencing, and spoke. "Hello, Malfoy."

Malfoy sat up with a start; Harry knew that it was probably very rare for him to hear anyone speak. "P- Potter?" he asked, as he turned on his bed to face Harry. His voice cracked a little, as Harry also knew that Malfoy might not have spoken for a long time. "Is that you, or..." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, as if trying to make out some tiny detail.

Harry realized what Malfoy was thinking. "No, it's really me, sorry. Not a Death Eater posing as me, here to break you out. I just wanted to talk."

Malfoy looked at Harry as if he were crazy. "Just came by for a chat, did you?" he asked sarcastically. "Wanted to gloat a bit?"

Harry almost laughed, since that was so far from his purpose. "No," he said. "Maybe I'm here to say goodbye."

"You going somewhere?" sneered Malfoy. "Never to return, I hope?"

"No, it's more like, you're going somewhere," said Harry somberly. "But you will return, according to Professor Dumbledore." On seeing Malfoy's blank yet contemptuous look, Harry realized that Malfoy didn't know. "I forgot, you don't exactly get the Prophet in here. The Ministry is about to decide that all the Death Eaters currently being held are going to be put to death."

Malfoy laughed. "Yeah, tell me another one. The Ministry's way too spineless to do anything like that. They'll be breaking us out any day now."

"They did try, in September," conceded Harry. "Voldemort himself led the attempt, you should be flattered. But we stopped them. Some people have escaped since you got caught, but you're being held by Aurors." Harry went on to explain in brief the events of the past few months. "So, there have been enough escapes that people are getting fed up with it, they're ready to do anything they have to, to stop it. There's a lot of pressure from the public to execute the Death Eaters we have right now, and it's going to happen, maybe pretty soon. Probably within the next two weeks."

Malfoy was silent for a minute, then looked defiant, "I don't believe you."

"Yes, you do," said Harry; he had been checking since he arrived. "You don't want to, but you do. You can't think of any reason why I'd bother to come in here and lie to you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Just because I can't think of a reason doesn't mean there isn't one. And I'm not worried, they'll come and break us out before anything could happen anyway. The Dark Lord won't allow this."

Harry gave a grunt of amusement. "The Dark Lord isn't in much of a position to do anything, he can't even conduct a simple operation competently." He proceeded to explain what he had done to Voldemort; despite Malfoy's attempts to appear as if he dismissed what Harry was saying, he looked stunned. "Hogsmeade, the one this year, was the last straw," concluded Harry. "They lost the artifact, and created enough public anger that the executions will happen."

"Now I'm sure you're lying," said Malfoy smugly. "No one could do that to the Dark Lord, certainly not you."

Harry found that Malfoy wasn't lying. "Not that it matters, but I can show you what I did." Malfoy blanched, as Harry had explained that what he did was very painful. "No, I'm not going to show you by doing it... not exactly." With a wave of his wand, Harry lifted the Memory Charm he had placed on Malfoy in September. Malfoy gave a start as the memories came flooding back; horror filled his eyes as he clearly realized that Harry was telling the truth.

Harry explained how he had come up with the Imperius Charm, and its effect on Death Eaters. "Doing it to you, and what happened, made me realize that it would have the same effect on Voldemort, or anyone who'd been Cleansed. Yes, I know about that," he added, to another startled look from Malfoy. "When I do it much more intensely, with Legilimency, it basically reverses the Cleansing. By the time I get done with Voldemort, he'll barely be able to have an evil thought, never mind do anything." Harry wasn't sure that that was literally true, but suspected that it might be.

Malfoy remained silent, but it was very plain that he was very frightened, knowing that if Harry wasn't lying about the rest of it, he wasn't lying about the executions, or about Voldemort's current mental capacity. "I'm wondering, Malfoy... if you could have the Cleansing reversed, would you?"

Anger took over Malfoy's face. "Why are you here, Potter?" he snapped. "You didn't just come to say goodbye. Why don't you just do whatever you came here to do and get the hell out." Harry realized that Malfoy felt that he was being toyed with; Harry wondered if he actually was, despite it not being his intention.

Harry almost said, 'Anxious to get back to whatever it was you were doing?' but decided at the last second that it would be gloating, which he didn't want to do. "I've kind of done it already. I know this isn't going to make any sense to you, Malfoy, but since I've taken up your valuable time, I'll explain it anyway." Harry found he couldn't quite hold back that comment. "I have a lot of influence, and not everyone agrees that we should be killing people. If I tried really hard, I might be able to get them to not do this. I think killing people is wrong, and we shouldn't do it. But I'm not going to fight it, I'm going to let it happen. So I feel kind of responsible, like I'm helping condemn you and the others to death by not doing anything. I felt like if I'm going to do that, I should be able to come here, look you in the eye, and tell you that."

Confusion was dominant on Malfoy's face, followed by anger, an emotion that Harry realized was almost always there, as it was with Snape. "That's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Harry shrugged. "I told you you wouldn't understand it. You'd have to have a conscience to do that, and I'm not sure you ever had one even before you were Cleansed."

"Conscience is for the weak," spat Malfoy. "The strong survive."

"Which explains why you're here," retorted Harry. "You wouldn't be here if you hadn't decided to go after Dudley. He says hello, by the way, he thinks about you now and then. He bought steel-toed shoes in case he ever runs into you again." Harry decided on the spur of the moment to gloat for a minute on Dudley's behalf. "Anyway, you did what you wanted to do instead of what you were supposed to do, which isn't exactly a sign of strength. You're not strong, Malfoy. You were just born with advantages, like money and power... and one big disadvantage. Like Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott, you were born to a Death Eater. I'm not sure you ever even had a choice." He paused; Malfoy was silent, to Harry's surprise.

"Tell me something, Malfoy... imagine you had a chance to start again, the Cleansing reversed... would you still do to Pansy what you told her you would after you cut her?"

An evil grin came to Malfoy's face; he gazed into the distance for a second, as if recalling a blissful memory. "Oh, Potter, I've had a lot of time to spend here imagining, carefully planning, what I'm going to do to her. And I will. I'll get out of here, and track her down, one day. It's going to take days, it's going to be fantastic. And you know," he added conspiratorially, "it was going to be a surprise, but since we're old pals, I could tell you the first part of it. Get her in the mood a bit. And one of the best parts is, I'm going to make sure I get Weasley, too. He gets to watch."

Harry shook his head sadly. "That's about what I expected, but I just thought I'd ask. No thanks, Malfoy, they've both got better things to do than listen to your sick fantasies. That reminds me, I've got to remember, I'm working on a Ring of Reduction for them. You know, for when they... well, you don't want to hear about that-"

"What an abomination. They deserve each other."

"Oddly enough, that's what I think, too. Glad we found something in common."

"I will, Potter, I'll get out of here and track them down-"

"No, you won't, Malfoy, and here's why," said Harry with more satisfaction than he really wanted to feel. "I lifted the Memory Charm I placed on you in September, but of course I'll have to replace it before I leave, and include this conversation in it. I don't think you'll escape before they execute you, but I know it's not impossible, so the Memory Charm is just to be on the safe side. Now, the reason you'll do nothing even if you escape is that when you get back, the first thing Voldemort will do is check to make sure his Memory Charm is still intact-which it won't be-and look for new ones. He'll find this one, and won't be able to get through it even with your help, since I'm stronger than him. So, he'll do what he would do if you refused to help him: use the Cruciatus Curse until your mind breaks open. I think it still wouldn't work, but you'd be way past any kind of help by the time he figured that out. So, it's safe to say that you won't be in any position to do anything to Pansy. But after I do the Memory Charm, you'll forget any of this ever happened, and sink back into your awful, disgusting fantasy that keeps you going until they come to execute you-something which, I'm sad to say, I'm becoming more comfortable with every minute.

"Okay, I think I got what I needed. Is there anything you'd like to say-hopefully, that isn't too depraved and violent-before I put the Memory Charm back?"

There was burning anger in Malfoy's eyes. "The next time I see you, Potter, you'll see me, but you won't know it's me until it's too late."

Harry gave a light shrug. "Well, it wasn't depraved, at least. Seems unlikely, though." He pointed his wand at Malfoy and said, "Please remain standing while I do this, it'll just take a second."

Malfoy gave him a defiant look and immediately lay back down on his bed, in the same position he'd been in when Harry arrived. Malfoy never was too bright, thought Harry as he applied the Memory Charm.

Thirty minutes later, sitting on two beds in the boys' bedroom, Harry and his friends exited the Pensieve. "That was a nice touch there, at the end," said Hermione. "I suppose you wanted him on the bed so he wouldn't wonder why he suddenly changed position."

"Yes, not that it mattered that much, of course," replied Harry. "He wouldn't be able to remember anyway. Just for neatness, I guess."

"I wonder what he meant by that last bit," said Ginny.

"I guessed it was something to do with Polyjuice Potion," suggested Harry, as Hermione nodded. "He's had nothing to do but hatch plots, even if he can't do anything about them."

Harry glanced at Ron and Pansy; he had been watching them when Malfoy's references to them had come up. Seeing his glance, Pansy rolled her eyes. "Harry, please. You can't think anything he said there would bother me. Even if he was free, he couldn't touch me, and as you pointed out, if he gets away he'll end up wishing he'd been executed. I feel very safe, don't worry."

"It wasn't so much that I didn't think you were safe, just that I thought this might have... negative associations," Harry clarified.

"No... I think seeing this may have done me some good, actually. He's just so powerless, and... pathetic, really. All he can do is fantasize about violence all day long. There's just nothing more to his life anymore, it would be sad if it wasn't Malfoy. But he's really earned this. I assume that's why you asked him the question about me.

"But you know, Harry, he did have a choice. He may have been steered in this direction, but we all have choices. Look at Professor Snape, he chose an extremely hard life because he decided he had made a wrong choice. If he can do that, someone like Malfoy can choose, too." Harry saw her point.

"Are you going to call Bright and tell him you've decided?" asked Hermione.

"I already did," he said. "I told Kingsley at the site, and used one of their fireplaces to tell Bright. Neither had much reaction, but I got the impression that they were both glad that I made this choice."

"They know this hasn't been easy for you," agreed Hermione. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad you made this choice, too." Harry nodded, appreciating the sentiment, that she preferred that he made the choice with less risk to him.

"Seems kind of weird, to think that Malfoy'll be dead soon," remarked Neville.

"Kind of good, you mean," put in Ron. "But yes, I know what you mean. But he won't be the first member of our class who died... just the first one who deserved it."

"Well, Crabbe and Goyle," pointed out Ginny. "But yes, he really deserved it." Turning to Harry, she asked, "How do you feel about the whole thing now?"

He thought for a few seconds. "Like it's not all about me," he finally said. "Rudolphus was right about that, I do take too much on myself. Talking to Malfoy helped me realize that there are other aspects to this. I mean, I knew that, of course, but this made it easier to see. I still think the principle is really important, but I can't be Albus, at least not right now. I guess I'm getting a little more comfortable that I'm not like he was."

"No, you're like you," said Ginny, sitting across from him. "And I love you."

He smiled. "I love you, too." To the others, he said, "So, why don't we all go in to Diagon Alley tomorrow, have lunch, walk around?"

"I don't know," said Ron. "You know how I hate to be pestered."

"We'll take Polyjuice Potion," joked Harry. "I'll be you, you'll be me."

"And then what?" asked Pansy with a sly smile.

Hermione, Neville, and Ginny broke up laughing, and even Harry laughed a little. Unable to keep a smile off his face, Ron said, "Don't be disgusting." After a second, he added thoughtfully, "Wow, that's disgusting in two ways. Really impressive."

"It's why I couldn't resist," explained Pansy. After another minute, Ron, Pansy, Neville, and Hermione left the room. With Ginny watching, Harry got to work on the extra Ring of Reduction.