Phoenix Intuition

Chapter One

"Hurry!" shouted Hedrick breathlessly. "He just ran into the Forbidden Forest!"

The other nine Slytherin seventh years ran as fast as they could, passing Hagrid's hut. Derek, the fastest runner, was five meters ahead of the others, closing in on the first trees of the forest. "Slow down, Derek!" yelled Helen. "We have to be together, you can't go out--" She cut herself off as Derek went down from a Stunning Spell, and whirled on Sylvia, who had cast it. Raising her voice even more, as the others skidded to a halt, she demanded, "What did you do that for?"

"Do your Reveal spells," she responded calmly, seemingly trying to suppress smugness in her tone. The others did the spell that showed objects hidden by magic, and they saw a very thin rope fifteen meters long and a foot above the ground, tied between two trees. Derek had been a second away from it.

"Oops," muttered David.

"A booby trap," said Hedrick unnecessarily.

"Who knows what it would do, but let's not find out," said Sylvia as she revived Derek. "Professor Shady had obviously been planning this escape route for some time, just waiting until he could get the Ring. We have to hurry, but we have to be careful. Can you walk, Derek?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay," he said, shaking his head and slowly getting to his feet. "Nasty Stunner you've got there, Hermione," he added with a grin. He and a few others had given Sylvia that nickname, they claimed, because she got far better grades than the others did, though she still suspected it had to do with the traits of Hermione's that had annoyed Harry and Ron for so long. In any case, she had decided to take it as a compliment.

"Professor Granger is going to overhear you saying that one of these days," she warned him. "Come on, let's go, around those trees. I guess I don't need to tell you--"

"Keep checking with Reveal, yes, you don't need to," interrupted Edward. They took off again, five going around each of the two trees to which the rope was tied.

"Could've yelled, 'Hey, Derek, stop,'" Derek muttered to Sylvia, running next to him.

"Yes, because you're so well-known for doing what I tell you to do," retorted Sylvia, through heavy breaths.

"Not only you," he responded.

"Whatever, you were about to trip the thing. I couldn't take the chance."

He grunted, but didn't respond. "Hey, couldn't he have just Apparated away by now?"

"He can't Apparate, and neither can we, right here."

"And for that matter, why didn't he just grab a broom? He could've--"

"Stop talking so much, you'll get winded more quickly."

"You mean, you will. I'm fine," he said with a smile. "It's just that if I thought I was going to have to get away quickly, I would've--"

Half of the students shouted in alarm as they suddenly left the ground; in a second, all ten were hovering about five feet in the air.

"That's not fair!" said Sylvia indignantly, as she flailed around, finding that there were no trees anywhere near her grasp. "I was checking!"

"Must've been a physical booby trap that didn't need to be magically hidden, so Reveal wouldn't uncover it," suggested David calmly. "We need someone to conjure a rope. Helen?"

"Dad's been working with me on an Attaching Rope. I'll do my best." She left unspoken that the best she'd been able to do was to conjure a rope that didn't Attach, but hopefully that would do. "I wish I could call Hal."

"Or Fawkes, or Red, for that matter," agreed Sylvia. "Too bad we can't. Nice rope!" she added encouragingly to Helen.

"Let's see if it works," said Helen doubtfully. She sent the end to a tree ten feet away; the rope hit the tree's trunk and fell to the ground. She sighed. "Well, it's a rope, anyway."

"Good enough," said Hedrick as he magically sent the end of the rope in the air and caused it to loop three times around a thick branch. "Ladies first." He held the rope and gestured to Helen; she grasped the rope with both hands and worked her way along until she was outside the field of the Hover Charm. She and the rope fell, but Hedrick's weight broke her fall somewhat, and her weight pulled him to the ground; she helped pull him out of the field. They then passed the rope to the others, pulling them out while putting a weak Hover Charm on them so they floated to the ground.

"Well, that was fun," said Derek sarcastically. "He's probably got clean away by now."

"I think we can still catch him," said a determined Helen. "Come on."

They broke into a run again, this time spaced further apart so that if they hit any more booby traps, a few wouldn't be affected. They had run for three minutes when Matthew pointed skyward. "Look!"

A very large bird swooped down toward them... or, it looked like a bird, until as it landed they noticed its body. "A hippogriff!" exulted Vivian. "That's wonderful!"

"'Convenient' might be a better word," cracked Derek.

"Don't complain," chided Sylvia.

"Yeah," added David with a smirk, "don't look a gift hippogriff--"

"I knew someone was going to say that," said Derek, rolling his eyes.

"Sssh!" admonished Helen. "Go ahead, Hedrick. You did well with the one in class, back in third year."

Shrugging, he stepped forward slowly, came to a stop, and slowly bowed. The hippogriff, haughty, showed no reaction for a few seconds, then squawked loudly. A startled Hedrick stepped back quickly. "What did I do?"

"I'll try," suggested Augustina. She stepped forward, bowed, and got the same result. Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she retreated.

"It's got to like somebody, let me try," said Helen. A few seconds later, the hippogriff bowed in return, and she happily stepped forward to pet it. As she did so, another hippogriff flew into view and landed. David, Vivian, and Matthew were similarly approved, but the rest were rebuffed as they approached.

"Looks like only four of us get to go," noted Derek. "Two for each hippogriff, works out just right. Guess the rest of us have to continue on foot, unless several more hippogriffs decide to land in the next minute." He looked up at the sky as if expecting it to happen in response to his comment. "Well, guess not."

"This is good anyway," said Helen. "We should pass him and be able to see him from the air, though it might be tough to see him through the trees. We'll land in front of him, and if he doubles back, the rest of you can catch him. Let's go." She climbed onto the back of one of the hippogriffs, Matthew behind her; David and Vivian took the other one. The other six watched the hippogriffs break into a trot, then take off.

"Hope they know how to steer one of those," commented Hedrick. "I'm not sure I'd have remembered that from the class. Let's go."

They started running again, more of a jog this time; they realized they couldn't run at full speed for very long--physical exercise wasn't exactly emphasized at Hogwarts--and speed was less urgent now that the other four were flying ahead on hippogriffs.

A few minutes later, however, they had another problem. Trotting directly toward them was a group of centaurs; it looked like ten or fifteen. As the Slytherins skidded to a stop, five more approached them from either side. They were surrounded.

"This isn't good," muttered Derek, looking around warily. Half of the centaurs were armed with bows, and a few already had arrows in them, ready to fire.

One centaur stepped out of the pack. "This area is not for humans," he said disdainfully. "Why do you intrude into our private domain?"

"Your private domain?" repeated Hedrick incredulously. "This is a forest! Anybody can--"

Stepping forward next to Hedrick, Sylvia gave him a quick elbow in the ribs. "We're sorry for intruding, but it's really important," she said urgently. "A bad man, a professor from our school, has stolen the Ring of Hogwarts, which is a rare and powerful artifact, and could allow the one who wears it to--"

"Enough! We care not for your human problems," roared the centaur. "You have violated the centaurs' law. We shall confer to decide what is to be done."

"If you'd just let us go back the way we came, we promise--" started Sylvia.

"I said, we will decide," said the centaur, his tone suggesting that his patience had reached its limits. "For now, you will stay where you are." A group of twenty centaurs retreated about ten meters and huddled, leaving only four guarding the students.

"There's only four now," whispered Hedrick. "Maybe we could Stun them--"

"They've got bows!" pointed out Edward.

"And we've got Repulsion Charms," added Derek.

"Absolutely not!" hissed Sylvia. "We were intruding on their grounds--"

"What, they can't just let us off with a warning, maybe help us?" asked Derek, annoyed. "This is a forest, we have every bit as much right to be here as they do."

"Not as far as they're concerned," responded Sylvia. "Don't you remember Hagrid's class on them? They're very proud, and distrustful of humans. But they're not going to kill us. We just need to be patient. They'll let us go."

"We're supposed to be chasing Professor Shady!" said Edward impatiently.

"It's going to have to be the other four that do it," said Sylvia. "We can't use force against them. It could really get them angry, maybe put Hagrid in danger. He comes out here sometimes."

"I really think that Hagrid can take care of himself. But okay, I suppose you're right," agreed Derek, resigned. "I hope the others are doing better than we are."

"There! I saw something moving, just ahead!" shouted Matthew, moving a hand from holding onto Helen's stomach to point.

"Okay, let's go down," she agreed, gesturing to David on the other hippogriff that he should follow her as she urged her hippogriff down.

"Should we Stun him from the air?" asked Matthew.

"No, because he'd retaliate, and he could Stun the hippogriff, which would be really bad for everyone. We have to land first."

They landed well ahead of the fleeing professor, hid behind trees, and waited for him to approach. When he got near enough, they moved out of hiding and shot off Stunning spells at him. To their great surprise, their spells had no effect.

Professor Shady was tall and slim, with short, slicked-back black hair and a goatee. He smiled smugly as he came to a stop and faced them. "Well, you managed to catch up with me, for all the good it will do you. I suppose you are wondering why your spells had no effect?"

The four exchanged glances. "Well, sort of, yes," admitted Matthew.

"If you knew enough to chase me, I'm surprised you didn't know more about the properties of the reason you are chasing me, this ring," said Shady haughtily, holding up his right hand to display a gold ring with a large diamond. "It renders the wearer immune to any magic, so there is nothing you can do to me; you were defeated before you even left Hogwarts." His smile grew even wider. "But what you also apparently do not know is that this ring, when worn at midnight on the tenth full moon of the year, has the power to utterly destroy the very institution it was created to protect! I shall finally have vengeance on my enemies! Mwahaha!" He cackled gleefully and rubbed his hands together. "Finally, revenge at last... they all looked down on me, questioned my competence to be a professor, but I will have the last laugh..."

The four Slytherins, looking slightly befuddled, had moved closer together. They spoke to each other quietly, which Shady didn't notice as he continued gloating. "Everyone do the Protection Shield, and be ready with other defensive spells," advised Helen. "One, two, three..."

The four suddenly rushed at Shady, who appeared startled; he raised his wand, but the four were already on top of him. They knocked him to the ground and held him down, each student holding an arm or a leg. Shady looked outraged. "Curses! You have foiled my diabolical plot! But one day, I will return--"

"Oh, be quiet," said Helen, rolling her eyes. Looking up as she held down the professor's arm, she shouted, "Is that it? Are we done?"

"I think you have to take the ring off him," suggested Vivian.

"Oh, yeah," agreed Helen. She took off the ring, and suddenly the forest and Professor Shady vanished. The other six Slytherins were now only ten feet away, and both doors of the Ring of Reduction were plainly visible.

"I'm glad it didn't take any longer than that," said Derek, walking towards them. "Talking to those centaurs was pretty boring."

As he spoke, another person entered the Ring. "Sorry it wasn't interesting enough for you, Derek," said a grinning Harry, walking towards the group.

"Wasn't your fault," shrugged Derek. "I blame last year's seventh years, whoever wrote it." Harry chuckled; last year's year-end project for Defense Against the Dark Arts had been to write a scenario to be played out in a Ring of Reduction in which a group of ten students had a threat to face and defeat; something challenging but not impossible. Harry was the only one with the magical ability to create interactive characters within the Ring; the students had created as much of it as they could, and Harry had done the rest.

"I think Derek has a great career ahead of him as a drama critic," Augustina said. "Even while it was going on, he couldn't stop making wisecracks."

"We should play the last part again for him," added Helen. "Which house wrote that, anyway? And that dialogue at the end was deliberately bad, wasn't it? I hope?"

"The Ravenclaws wrote it," answered Harry. "And I didn't ask them, but I assume so. I mean, Voldemort liked to gloat, but he never said 'Mwahaha,' thank God. I don't know what I would have done. But that was the best one. The dialogue aside, it was the most imaginative from a tactical and magical point of view. By the way, you ten have done the best with this so far. The Hufflepuffs didn't think of rushing him, and the Ravenclaws tried to fight their way past the centaurs; the Gryffindors will be trying it next. I liked the fact that to defeat the scenario, you had to do things that didn't seem natural. Wizards wouldn't usually think of physically attacking someone, and the best thing to do with the centaurs was just stay put, which goes against your instincts."

"Oh, and, 'Ring of Hogwarts?'" mocked Derek. "Couldn't they come up with anything more imaginative than that?"

Harry thought that too might have been deliberately amateurish, but didn't want to say, because he wasn't sure. "Well, you'll have your chance to do better, Derek," Harry assured him. "Yours will be due in... third week of June, so... nine months and a week. Plenty of time."

"I'll write up an outline tonight," Derek said, causing a few of his female classmates to giggle. "I'm really motivated now, after seeing that."

"Okay," agreed Helen, "but it can't be that the beautiful foreign exchange student is kidnapped and can only be rescued by the dashing and witty Derek Wilson."

Derek affected great surprise. "Helen, when did you start studying Legilimency?"

All eleven laughed as they headed for the Ring's exit. "And I suppose she kisses him at the end?" mused Hedrick.

Derek shrugged. "Well, she wants to show her gratitude..."

* * * * *

It was the second Sunday since the new school term had started, and the six of them were all there a half-hour before the six o'clock dinnertime. Dobby was in the kitchen, preparing the meal; all six had long since learned not to try to offer Dobby any help, as he tended to react in a very self-abasing manner, as if to suggest that a lowly being such a himself should not be offered help by the great friends of Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort (Harry had made saying the name a condition of his employment), possessor of awesome magical powers, and so forth. So, the six left Dobby to his duties, but tried not to forget to express appreciation for his efforts.

Dobby was not only Harry's house-elf; when Harry had the house built three years ago--his hobby for his first post-Hogwarts year had been overseeing its construction and application of charms and spells to protect, hide, and baby-proof it--Dobby had begged to be his house-elf, pestering Harry every chance he got. Harry knew he would eventually accept, so he imposed some conditions, the most important of which was that Dobby was to consider himself the house-elf of two houses: Harry's, and the Burrow. Although Dobby adored the Weasleys only somewhat less than he did Harry himself, he was reluctant because it was so unconventional for a house-elf to belong to two homes. He eventually relented, as he did to Harry's demands that he accept wages of twenty Galleons a month and five days off a month. Harry had persuaded Dobby to accept by pointing out that Dobby hoped that other house-elves would one day be free as Dobby was; surely when they saw how the great Harry Potter treated his house-elf, other house-elves and masters alike would see the wisdom of the idea. Dobby, of course, happily agreed, though he found it hard to get used to so much time off. Molly had been skeptical at first, but agreed to start slowly handing off chores to Dobby, especially those relating to the adult children living at the Burrow.

Shortly after Harry and Ginny had taken up residence in the new house, a tradition had been established: the six would meet for dinner every Sunday night at 6:00. Ron and Neville had arranged their Auror schedules, and Pansy her St. Mungo's schedule, to avoid working on Sunday evenings. Occasionally they would have guests: sometimes Aurors (especially Kingsley, Cassandra, Winston or Tonks), Hogwarts teachers (with Neville's reluctant permission, Harry had even invited Snape once; he had declined, as had McGonagall), fellow students, or old family friends like Remus. Tonight, they had a guest who was visiting the home for the first time.

Harry gave Luna an enthusiastic hug when she arrived; she got hugs or kisses on the cheek from the others. Harry gave the tour of the house that he'd given over a dozen times before: the game room; the two guest rooms, each of which was expandable to five, if desired; the backyard swimming pool which was not only self-cleaning, but automatically denied access to anyone less than a meter tall. They finally sat down to dinner, which was lasagna; it tended not to be served at Hogwarts, but Ginny had been encouraging Dobby to expand his culinary expertise, and Dobby had eagerly accepted the challenge. Ginny got a chuckle from everyone by explaining that Dobby next intended to tackle Chinese food.

"So, Luna," said Pansy, "you were writing for your father's magazine after you graduated, right?"

Luna nodded as she buttered her French bread. "Dad didn't ask me to do it, but I wanted to, at least for a while; I wanted to see some of the interesting stuff out there. I also discovered that some of what the Quibbler prints is a bit more... speculative than I'd thought." Harry tried to suppress a grin, and a glance around the table told him he wasn't the only one. "I know how it's regarded, of course, but it does get a lot more things right than people think it does. It was strange, but some of the people I interviewed actually knew who I was. It seems that being the first person outside you six to use the magic of love made me a little bit well-known.

"Anyway, after that, I went traveling not for reporting, just for myself. I wanted to do what you said Professor Dumbledore did after Hogwarts, and like him, I spent a long time in Tibet. They were very kind people, and the nature was lovely. It was very peaceful, and a great experience." She took her first bite of the lasagna.

"What did they teach you?" asked Pansy.

"They don't really teach you, exactly," explained Luna. "It's more like they help you work out how to get in the right frame of mind to learn things yourself. It's a little like when you teach the magic of love, Harry, only more intense. Or do you still call it the 'energy of love'?"

Harry shrugged. "Yes, but either is fine."

"Also, like your class, it's more something you decide to do than something you try to learn. I made a lot of progress; it was really good."

"So, you got in touch with the... 'spiritual realm'?" asked Neville, who apparently had to struggle to remember the term.

Luna nodded. "They were surprised at how fast I was able to do it; they say that some people stay for years and find it difficult. I'm sure the practice from your class had something to do with it," she added, to Harry.

"I think it's more that you're a natural," he responded. "I hope this isn't too personal, but I'm wondering, did you ever talk to your mother?"

Luna didn't seem disturbed by the question. Not as 'spacey' as she used to be, thought Harry, but just as serene, maybe more so. "Yes, it was good to do that. She said she was sorry to have to leave me and Dad, but it was just her time to go. Of course, I understood that; by the time you get to the point where you can talk to spirits, you pretty much understand how that works. There's just a time when we're supposed to go, and it's always for a reason, even if it's one we down here can't really understand."

Neville looked curious. "Do you mean it's a kind of predestination?"

She thought for a few seconds. "Yes and no, it's hard to explain. It's not predestined in that we have free will... from our point of view, the future isn't decided, but from the point of view of the spiritual realm, everything already has happened and is happening. They're kind of outside of time."

Harry chuckled. "This really takes me back to when Albus was talking to me every night. I'd be confused every time he tried to explain this to me. Eventually, I sort of understood it in my brain, but never really 'got' it, not like you have. But, can I ask you... you said it's always for a reason that someone dies. Did you find out the reason for your mother?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly, but it doesn't matter. Now that she's there, she knows the reason, and it has more to do with her than me. Anyway, she's been reincarnated, so she's back again now."

"Really?" asked Neville. "Do you know where she is, who she is?"

"I think we're not supposed to have that information," replied Luna. "It's not important for me to know, anyway. I was just glad to have a chance to talk to her."

Ron was puzzled. "But if she's living again, how is it you were able to talk to her? Wouldn't she not be there, because she's here?"

"A part of her is there," said Luna. "Also, they're outside time, so it wouldn't matter whether she'd been reincarnated yet or not, I could still talk to her."

Harry smiled at Ron's puzzlement. "Yes, this really reminds me of Albus."

"How about you, Harry?" asked Luna. "Did you ever talk to Sirius, or your parents?"

Harry became somber. "No, I didn't. I understand the spiritual stuff okay, but I never got to the point where I could contact them from here. Albus said it was possible, but really rare that people can do that, and I never put the effort necessary into it. I guess I always felt like I had too much else to do. But I don't regret not doing that. I know they love me, and I love them, and that's all I really need to know."

Luna ate more lasagna, and nodded. "Well, I suppose this isn't the usual dinnertime topic of conversation," she observed. "How about you? How's James doing?"

A smiling Ginny answered. "Adorable, as usual. He has so much energy, it seemed like he could run as soon as he could walk. Right now he's with Mum, and he's a handful even for her. But she just loves him to pieces, of course. He's... well, I should stop before I get too far; I've been told I ramble on about him way past the point where anyone's interested. But he's doing just great."

"We're trying to raise him a bit differently than most kids," added Harry. "He's never seen a wand, and we're going to try to keep it that way for as long as possible."

Luna nodded, understanding. "You want him to learn to do magic without a wand, since you now know it can be done. You want him not to think he needs one."

"That's right. Ginny doesn't use a wand around him, and I sit with him and do simple spells, like turning blocks different colors, and Summoning things. I tell him that when he's a big boy, he'll be able to do it too. Knowing how interested little kids are in getting their hands on anything that moves, I have a feeling he'll do it if it can be done, and I'm sure it can be. And if he starts doing it..."

"You'd start a whole new way of parenting, like you've already done with teaching magic," finished Luna. "All in a day's work for Harry Potter. But this isn't connected to your unique abilities, is it, even though you found out you didn't need a wand at the same time that you realized you could do anything that could be done by magic?"

"Yes, exactly," agreed Harry. "People often get confused about that. The two things have nothing to do with each other. Only I can do the second thing, but I'm convinced that anyone can do magic without a wand, if they weren't raised to think they needed one."

"The Magical Research Institute's opinion notwithstanding," said Hermione, in a gently teasing tone.

Harry quickly rolled his eyes. "They think it's just me," he explained to Luna. "They've tried not using wands themselves, and no matter how much they try, it doesn't work. I don't care what they think, though. Which Hermione knows, of course, she's just having a bit of fun with me. Researchers don't like it when they ask you questions like, 'how do you know such-and-such?' and you answer, 'I don't know how I know, I just know.'"

Luna smiled. "I can imagine." She turned to Ginny and asked, "Ginny, what about you? Are you still playing Quidditch?"

"Starting Chaser for the Chudley Cannons, Ron was so proud when I became a starter after only one year," said Ginny, with a teasing grin at her brother. "It had to be the Cannons, of course. I had to take a pregnancy break when James came along, but it wasn't too long. Mum's been spending a lot of time looking after James. I may quit, or take a long break, after I've had two or three kids; there are a lot of practices, and I don't want to burden her too much. She still insists she'd be happy to do it, of course."

"How about you, Ronald?" asked Luna, to the others' amusement. "You're an Auror now, you and Neville?"

"I just finished my first year out of training," said Ron. "Neville's been out of training longer, since he got credit for the training he'd already done with them. So, technically, he's senior to me. Not that he'd ever bring it up, mind you."

"Only in fun," agreed Neville, deadpan.

"Yes, so, only a few times a day. It's fairly quiet being an Auror now, though. I think that since Harry became Mr. Can Do Any Magic He Wants, the English criminal element has fled to other countries. He's caught a few people that Aurors never would have, though unfortunately a few have got off from lack of evidence. 'Harry knows he did it' apparently doesn't stand up at the Wizengamot as evidence, but the Ministry made a big publicity deal about some captures he made, and could get evidence for. They wanted just the threat of him to deter people, and it seems to be working; magical crime is way down. We Aurors keep occupied, like with continuing training, but the older ones often say, 'it's not like it was in the old days.' Sometimes I think they miss it."

Luna knew her next question was a personal one, but she let her curiosity get the better of her. "I'm wondering, Harry... you use your abilities to stop crime in England... you could use it for other countries just as easily, couldn't you?"

A look came to the faces of the others, as if reminded of something they hadn't thought about for some time. "The slippery slope," said Hermione quietly.

"Yes, Luna, we've had this conversation a few dozen times--not that I mind, mind you," he added quickly. "It started--you weren't here when this happened, but--"

"The Twin Towers," she supplied. "I was with the spiritual realm when it happened," she added, deciding not to explain why she was there at just that time; her sense was that the First didn't want her to tell people about him. "I got a few images; one was of you on that rooftop, getting people out of there. Another was... how you felt about not getting everyone out. I guess I wondered if you came to some conclusion about that."

Harry took a deep breath. "Nothing definitive, or official, you could say... I'm just going to keep what happened in mind, and do what I would naturally do. I don't look for people to help, much as part of me would like to. I know I can't go around doing everything."

"Wouldn't it be much easier, " suggested Luna, "if you just decided you'd do no more than an ordinary wizard could do, in every situation? It must be painful to make these decisions, every time you're faced with one. This way, you wouldn't have to make decisions, you'd have already done it."

He nodded. "Believe me, I've thought about that. But if it was something that involved danger to someone I loved, I know I couldn't do it. So I shouldn't make promises to myself that I know I can't keep. Then, it's just a matter of where I draw the line. I know I have to keep making that decision. Yes, it's not easy, but I just don't think there's anything else I can do. I think Albus would have done what you're suggesting. He would have been able to do that. But I can't."

There was silence for a moment. Changing the subject a little, Luna asked, "Was there any fallout from that? Did you get in trouble?"

"It was debated," said Hermione, "but Harry being Harry, he wasn't going to be charged with anything, and Professor Dentus told us that he didn't think Harry even lost much if any popularity. A lot of people trust Harry implicitly, and so felt that if he did it, then it must have been the right thing to do. Arthur had to answer some questions, too--oh, I guess you wouldn't know that. I think it was around the time you left England. Ron and Ginny's father, who was head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, got a pretty big promotion. One of the Undersecretaries stepped down, and Arthur was put in his spot and made head of the Muggle Liaison office."

Impressed, Luna raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Was it because--I mean, no offense, but--"

Ron waved her off. "Yes, it was because of Harry. Bright didn't make any pretense otherwise. Dad was never ambitious or conniving, didn't make any enemies, and that made him perfect for the job. See, because of Harry's popularity, he's had influence at the Ministry for a long time--one word from him could change public opinion about something, even though he hardly ever does it. Since Harry would never take a position at the Ministry himself, Bright thought it made sense to have someone in an Undersecretary position who more or less filled in for Harry, and who had his trust. Dad is sort of... a proxy for Harry, is the word Dad used. Like Harry, Dad will want to do what's right, without regard for his career. If Dad says something publicly, people will not necessarily assume Harry told him to, but at least that Harry has no objection to it. Dad talked to Dentus before accepting the position, and Dentus thought it made sense. Dentus had been wielding Harry's influence before, but he didn't have an official position. Now Dad does, though Dentus still has influence. Seems Harry has enough influence to go around."

"Only because I haven't had to spend it yet," muttered Harry. "I told Arthur he can do whatever he wants, he doesn't have to ask me. He deserves the position, he should have got it just for who he is."

"As Archibald would say, it would be nice if the world were like that," pointed out Hermione. "But you have spent influence, Harry. The werewolf thing."

Ron explained. "About a half a year after defeating Voldemort, Harry decided he was going to do something about the awful way werewolves were treated legally, and thought of by the population. A long article in the Prophet, a few public meetings, and other things like that that Harry generally hates to do. Pretty much by himself, with Dentus giving him advice on how to do it, Harry not only got the Ministry to repeal the laws that restrict what kind of jobs werewolves can get, but helped set up a system where werewolves register, and every full moon can go to the Ministry to get their Wolfsbane potion, and they put them up for the night. Then Harry and Remus did a big publicity campaign, encouraging werewolves to register. It was really successful, and it even ended up that werewolves gained some sympathy among the public, since they had a better idea of what it was like to be one. It didn't hurt that there hadn't been any werewolf attacks for a while."

"Technically, I didn't 'spend' my influence, because I didn't end up losing any," Harry added, to Hermione. She sent through the link that she remembered, but let him continue, for Luna and the others' benefit. "In fact, Archibald told me that I ended up even stronger politically than when I started, because the politicians saw that if I wanted to do something and put my shoulder into it enough, I could get it done, and that means something to politicians. Naturally, after that, they'd occasionally come to Archibald wanting me to support this or that, and he'd have to explain to them that I was only going to do that if it was really important to me. But it was very rewarding to get that done. Not only that Remus was happy, but I got letters from people who what I did helped, from their parents. It felt good."

"That's really good," said Luna. "That was pretty interesting. I don't know that much about politics, though."

Harry chuckled wryly. "Wish I didn't, I just didn't have any choice. I suppose I shouldn't complain though, since it helped me do something like this."

"And what's been happening with you, Pansy?" asked Luna. "Oh, I heard about the phoenix, congratulations. Are you and Ronald still together?"

Pansy smiled politely and patted Ron's hand. "Yes, we are. We're engaged now, but there's no date set. We're thinking of next spring." Harry wondered if he had imagined a fleeting look of unhappiness when Luna had said the words 'still together', as if it had reminded her of recent events; only two months ago, Ron and Pansy had a serious argument that had resulted in them living apart for nearly a month. To the others' relief, they worked it out, and the time apart only reinforced their commitment, and on getting back together, they decided to get married.

"That's wonderful, congratulations," said Luna happily.

"And thank you for not asking if we're doing the Joining of Hands," added Ron wryly. "You wouldn't believe how many people ask that, just because those four did."

"Oh," said Luna, looking taken aback. "Well, I was going to ask, but now I suppose I shouldn't." After a few seconds of silence, she smiled, and the other six laughed. "How about you, Hermione?"

"Fine, thanks. My life isn't very exciting. The only thing I do besides teaching is a little magical research, trying to work out which of Harry's spells can be done by any wizard, which can only be done using the energy of love, and which can only be done by him. It's slow going, and of course as Harry mentioned he can't tell us how he does it, except just by knowing he can. It doesn't help much. But I've got a couple to work, and it's a worthwhile endeavor. How about you, Luna? What will you be doing now that you're back?"

"I'm going to be doing some free-lance reporting for the Prophet. I want to do a long-term story, something where I spend a lot of time around some people at the Ministry, then do a long report about their jobs, what they do every day. Coincidentally, it's with someone who works in the Muggle Liaison office. I talked to Colin, he said I could follow him and Dudley around for a while."

Ron looked curious. "I've heard Dad talk about it, of course, but he talks more about management-level stuff. What do the people in that office actually do, anyway?"

Luna looked satisfied. "Well, good. At least there's one person who'll be interested in reading my article. I'm looking forward to finding out myself."

* * * * *

Dudley Dursley stepped out of the fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and walked away quickly so the next person to use the fireplace didn't run into him from behind, which happened when people didn't move after arriving. Like standing in front of an escalator after you get off it, he thought. Any Muggle knows not to do that, but some wizards will just stand there like morons after coming through the fireplace, just because they can't see the person behind them--until they rear-end them, that is. People aren't too bright sometimes.

Dudley walked briskly across the Atrium and headed for the stairs, walking up three flights of stairs to the floor which housed the Muggle Liaison office. He'd got into the habit when he joined the Ministry; he'd been a minor celebrity because of his connection to Harry, and to his surprise, some people still remembered the last article Rita Skeeter had ever written, in which she detailed Harry's pre-Hogwarts home life in terms none too flattering to any Dursley. People tended to talk to him in the elevator, and he couldn't get away, so he soon started using the stairs, and he continued doing so long after it was necessary (for the sake of exercise, he told himself).

He found it ironic that he'd become entranced with the wizarding world in spite of his parents' intense desire that he stay away at all costs. It was just so... strange, but interesting, and it didn't hurt that his cousin was more or less a living legend in that world, albeit a reluctant one. His parents, knowing Harry's status and how many lives he had saved, had softened their attitude just enough to begin inviting Harry to dinner every few months after he defeated Voldemort, where they succeeded in awkwardly managing to treat Harry as though he were almost as good as regular people. Their attitude warmed somewhat after hearing three years later that he had saved a hundred people from certain death in the World Trade Center attacks, at which time they'd reluctantly conceded that maybe being a wizard wasn't such a horrible thing (though Vernon had wanted to know why Harry didn't use his abilities to track down the terrorists who had masterminded the attack). Even so, Dudley had no intention of telling his parents what he did for a living. Dudley knew that Vernon wanted him to take over his business when Vernon retired, and Dudley considered it a possibility--after all, a Muggle could only rise so far in the Ministry, Harry Potter's cousin or no--and Dudley wasn't sure he wanted to spend the next fifteen years with his father looking over his shoulder. The business wasn't going anywhere; it would be there for him.

He walked into the Muggle Liaison office and sat at his desk, opening a copy of the Times. He scanned the Home and International sections; his personal inclinations would steer him toward the Sport section, but his job required him to be well-versed in Muggle current events, which he had never bothered to do before. He was in the middle of an article about fraud and abuse in the health-care system when Colin came in, taking a seat at his desk opposite Dudley's. After they exchanged greetings and spent another ten minutes reading--Colin preferred to bypass the print paper and go straight to the internet--Dudley asked Colin, "Has it always been this quiet in here? I mean, it seems like these days, we mostly read memos, file reports with no information in them, and keep up with the Muggle news. Not exactly a hard job."

"Well, there's a good start to my article," said an amused Luna as she walked over to them, having just entered the office. "Tells me a lot."

Colin chuckled at Dudley's anxious look as he stood. "Hi, Luna," he said, giving her a friendly hug. "Great to see you again, it's been a long time."

"You, too," she agreed, kissing him on the cheek. Turning to Dudley, she offered a hand. "I'm Luna Lovegood. I was at Hogwarts with Colin and Ginny. Different House, same year."

"Oh, yes, I remember that name," recalled Dudley, shaking her hand. "You're the..."

"Weird one," Luna supplied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say.

Dudley looked flustered. "I wasn't going to say that," he said, then looked a little more embarrassed as he realized that he had implied that he had thought it.

"You were not," admonished Colin. She raised her eyebrows at him, as if to say, 'Really?' "Okay, well, a little," he amended. "But not that much." To Dudley, in a loud stage-whisper, he added, "I had kind of a thing for her."

"You did not," she retorted with a smile. To Dudley: "He had a thing for Harry."

Dudley laughed loudly. "Yeah, I heard about that."

"It was strictly platonic," Colin countered humorously, with exaggerated dignity. "I saw in him then what everyone else sees in him now. I was just ahead of my time."

"That's his story, and he's sticking to it," jibed Dudley. "Be sure to put that into the article."

"Well, it seems to me that if I put in the article how Colin felt about Harry when he was eleven, then I should also--"

"All right, never mind," Dudley cut her off. Dudley knew that the way he'd treated Harry as a child wasn't a secret, but he didn't especially care to be reminded of it, as plenty of people in the wizarding world had already done so. Colin knew not to do it, at least, and hadn't even done it when they'd first met. "So, you're just going to hang out with us?"

"Not all the time," she clarified. "As you were just saying, that could get boring. But sometimes, especially when you go out to do something. Which I understand does happen occasionally. Didn't you visit the parents of the Muggle-borns who entered Hogwarts this year?"

"Arthur likes to do that himself," Colin explained. "But he'll take one of us with him when he does it; we each did one in July. It was pretty interesting."

"Bit of a shock for the parents," added Dudley.

"Why does Undersecretary Weasley want to do it himself?" wondered Luna.

"Because it's their first introduction to the wizarding world, and I want to be sure it's done right," explained Arthur, having walked through the door in the middle of Luna's question. "Hello, Luna, it's good to see you. Why don't you three come into my office."

They did; Arthur sat, but there were only two visitors' chairs in the office. Colin was about to Summon one from the main office, but Luna conjured a simple one and sat. "Not bad," said Colin. "I never did quite get the hang of that. Nothing that big, anyway."

"Fortunately, this job doesn't require a lot of conjuring," remarked Arthur. "So, Luna, they tell me you'll be spending some time with these two. What will you be doing, exactly?"

"Mainly, seeing what they get up to," she responded casually.

"Good, when you find out, let me know," he replied, in the same vein. Dudley and Colin exchanged a humorous glance. "So, it's just about their everyday lives on the job?"

She nodded. "It was my idea. It's really just because I fancy Colin."

Dudley snickered loudly; Colin gave her a 'very funny' smile. "I assume that won't be in the article," said Arthur dryly.

"We'll see," said Luna, with an amused glance at Colin. "My characterization of his appearance may be generous. But yes, I thought it would be interesting from a reporting point of view. The Prophet wanted to give me an assignment or two as sort of a trial, to see if they like my work or not, but they didn't want to give me anything important. So from their point of view, a look inside the Muggle Liaison office is just about right for that. But I'm hoping that more people will want to read about it than the Prophet thinks."

Arthur gave a mild shrug. "I wouldn't hold my breath, but that would be nice. The boys aren't that busy right now, but maybe we can come up with something interesting for you to see. How long will you be with them?"

"On and off, as much as a month," said Luna. "I'm in no hurry, and I still live with my father, so I don't really need an income."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I'd be surprised if you needed that long, but if it'll help, then sure. Is there anything you need?"

"Just a few questions for you, if you don't mind. First of all, how do you find your current position compared to the one you had before, in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office?"

"Well, that one was important--somebody has to make sure Muggles don't get injured by those sorts of things--but this one has much more responsibility. If there's any intersection between the wizarding and Muggle worlds, this office will be in the middle of it. It's our responsibility to make sure things go smoothly if that happens."

"So, the last time it happened," noted Luna, "was four years ago, when those soldiers came to Hogwarts after the magic went out."

"Yes, uh, things did not exactly go smoothly," allowed Arthur. He leaned forward a little, elbows on the desk, rested his chin on his interlocked fingers, then looked up at Luna. "Going off the record for a minute, that was a very good example of where this office fell down on the job. I don't completely blame my predecessor, because the decision was made in a big hurry. He was called in from home late at night, and didn't have a lot of time to think about it, sit down and think through scenarios. He just got the sense that the Minister wanted it done, and he focused more on getting it done than thinking about whether it was a good idea or not. What happened could and should have been predicted, though, and that's what this office is supposed to do.

"Going back on the record... we hope that if something like that happens in the future, things will go better. Our other main responsibility is making sure that evidence of the magical world doesn't get to Muggles. To take one of many examples, if a wizard lives in a Muggle area and moves, the house or flat may be sold or rented to a Muggle next. We have to make sure that everything magical has been removed; it wouldn't do for the Muggle tenants to go to the upstairs bedroom and find a portrait that talked to them. I'm sure these two will be doing that at some point while you're with them. It's important, if not all that interesting. Jack, one of the senior members of the office, has the full-time responsibility of overseeing financial transactions between us and the Muggle world, and Linda deals with other commerce-related matters. Colin and Dudley, as the junior members, do whatever else needs to be done."

"Many big, important things," put in Colin. Dudley quickly nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing that," said Luna. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

He nodded as they all stood. "Say hello to your father for me."

"I will, thank you," she said. As they returned to Colin and Dudley's desks, she asked, "So, what's first today?"

"It's really a matter of sitting back and waiting for things to happen," said Colin. "In the meantime... which do you want today, Dudley, Google or Lexis-Nexis?"

"Mmmm... Google, I think."

"Right. See, Luna, in this world of Muggle high technology, if information about magic got out, we couldn't really give Memory Charms and make it go away like they could before. So, we keep our eyes open for things if they do get out, in the hope that it won't get too far. Remember John telling us about the internet in Muggle Studies, but we couldn't use it there? Well, here, we can. Here, let's do a search on your name..."

* * * * *

Shivering in his heavy sweater and light jacket, Hugo Brantell strolled along one of the busier streets in Muggle San Francisco. It was approaching 11:30 p.m., and he'd been told to expect cold even though it was September--technically, summer--but still, the chill surprised him. When he'd mentioned this to a man who worked at the hotel Hugo was staying at, the man chuckled and replied, "If I just had a dollar for every time anyone said that to me..." Must be a typical tourist reaction, thought Hugo.

He'd felt it even more strongly a few hours before, when he'd gone to see a baseball match at the city's new stadium. He'd never even heard of baseball, but he'd been told that it was a 'hot ticket' in San Francisco, and that the 'Giants' (though, he couldn't help but think as he watched the game, they all looked fairly normal-sized) had a good chance at a 'pennant,' whatever that was. The woman sitting next to him--a sandy-haired woman in her late twenties--had taken pity on the friendly but clueless English tourist and explained the rules to him, as well as some quaint local items, such as 'garlic fries' and a 'splash hit,' the latter of which caused quite a stir in the middle of the match.

He'd enjoyed the experience, and the woman's company, but he was saddened as well, as his innate magical ability to read moods and feelings with tremendous accuracy had again told him more about a person than he'd have liked to know. The woman--Jolene was her name--had come to the match with a female friend and the friend's boyfriend, who was supposed to bring a friend of his own (a 'setup', she explained). But that friend had been unable or unwilling to make it for whatever reason, and his ticket had somehow ended up in the hands of the men outside the stadium who sold tickets at whatever highly inflated prices the market would bear. (Annoyed at the time by the fact that the man wanted six times more for the ticket than its face value, Hugo had decided to set aside strict moral standards for a moment and cast a strong Suggestion Charm, along with a mild Confundus Curse, to persuade the man to sell him the ticket at its face value. Hugo had thought the man was trying to take advantage of an ignorant foreigner, and was mildly chagrined to later discover that the man was simply asking the market price.)

He'd hit it off with Jolene, and on the surface she was cheerful and outgoing. But Hugo detected that she had recently had a bad breakup and that her self-esteem, normally low anyway, was down quite a bit further. She liked him, he was somewhat handsome, and he knew that if he asked her out after the match, she would accept, and they would end up in his hotel room. He knew she wanted validation--to be desired by someone she found attractive--and was in a bad enough mental place that she would find it in a one-night stand; she either didn't know or care (Hugo couldn't tell which) that it was destructive in the long run. Hugo was tempted, and as a young man had more than once taken advantage of such opportunities his abilities afforded him. But those memories disturbed him, and situations like hers saddened him. So, before she could ask him out, he worked into the conversation that he had an early flight the next morning, and when saying goodbye made sure to suggest that the original owner of the ticket had missed much more than an exciting match. As he left the stadium, he wished for perhaps the thousandth time that he hadn't been born with his particular abilities. And that he'd worn a heavier jacket.

He entered his hotel room and performed a heating charm on his clothes. It was his second day in San Francisco, and he intended to spend two more before moving on. He'd received a sizable inheritance two months ago when his mother died, and he'd decided to take a year off from journalism and travel the world, focusing mostly on Muggle areas. Hugo found the Americans a warm and extroverted people, and was happy to spend time talking (mostly, listening) to them. But he had asked some people about the event most Americans referred to as nine-eleven, and was disturbed at the reactions he got, especially the ones his abilities picked up. He could tell that most Americans had been deeply affected, even if no one they knew had been lost. Many wanted revenge, and they weren't too particular about whom it was inflicted on, so long as a person with a turban was on the other end of it. He decided to stop asking people about it; he had learned enough, he felt.

He changed into his nightclothes and got under the covers. Tomorrow he would visit no tourist places such as he had the last two days, but would simply walk all over the city, taking in its everyday sights and events. He rolled over onto his side and went to sleep.

He awoke, and slowly became aware of the fact that he was no longer in his hotel bed. He was on a floor, a carpeted floor of what appeared to be a living room. Startled, he reached for his wand, which was not where he kept it, or on his person. He then looked up and saw a man sitting in a chair, reading. Hugo's movements had attracted the man's attention, and he put down the book.

The man was a little short, perhaps a hundred and seventy centimeters. He had light brown hair; his eyes were slightly larger than usual, but otherwise his face was unremarkable. His eyes were dark and cold; Hugo had only ever seen such cold eyes on Death Eaters, or Voldemort. But what truly chilled Hugo was the information his unique senses provided him. The man was utterly conscienceless, Hugo saw immediately. He was indifferent to the suffering of others, and was highly intelligent and calculating. He was engaged in a game of chess in which the world was his chessboard, and the pieces irrelevant and disposable. He valued control; he needed to control everyone and everything around him. Hugo also saw that he would not be leaving his captivity anytime soon, and he knew with sickening certainty that if he found a way to take his own life, he should do so; it would surely be preferable to what awaited him.

"Please sit," the man said, gesturing to a chair. His tone was neither friendly nor unfriendly, and it too chilled Hugo. "I would have had you in a chair, but unconscious people tend to fall out of chairs." Hugo did as he was told, and took the nearest seat. "Now," the man continued, "let's see what you've picked up since you woke up."

He touched his wand; Hugo understood he was casting Legilimens on Hugo, getting his memories of the past minute. The man let out a low whistle. "Fascinating, how much information you got, so quickly. I knew about your abilities, of course, but seeing it directly is something else. You'll definitely be very useful." Hugo thought to say that he would do nothing the man asked, but quickly realized he was in no position to say any such thing. Only an enormous mistake by this man would result in Hugo's freedom, and the man did not seem the type to make enormous mistakes.

The man cast Legilimens again, then nodded. "Yes, your understanding of the situation is quite accurate. You will be useful to me; your wishes are irrelevant. But since we will be working together--" Hugo saw the faintest wry smile--"I should tell you a little about myself, and what you'll be doing.

"My name is Leonard Drake. I would say 'my friends call me Len,' but I have no friends, though there are a few I allow to feel they are because it suits me. I also have no family, and that in a way is the crux of my story.

"My mother died when I was very young. Killed--of all things--by a Muggle, if you can believe that. A man pointed a gun at her, tried to rob her. At some point--we could never find out for certain exactly how it happened, of course--she tried to reach for her wand, and he shot her. Bad as that was, what was worse was that he went unpunished. The law is that in such incredibly rare instances, the Muggle criminal justice system deals with such events, and in this case, the Muggle was let off on some technicality.

"I'll skip over much of my not-quite-fascinating life, but I will say that I was rather close to my father and my brother. Now, five years ago--I should say that they were both rather interested in magical artifacts; call it a hobby--they were offered the opportunity to purchase some rather interesting artifacts, which also happened to be illegal. My father and brother placed a little too much trust in someone they didn't know well, and were caught and arrested. I should say, they were entrapped; it was a setup all along. My father was a Legilimens and thought he would see through such a thing, but the person who set the trap was an Occlumens, and rather a good one. My father and brother were sentenced to six months in prison.

"A few months later, in early December, Voldemort broke everyone out of both American wizard prisons, Dad and Rob included. Though 'kidnapped' may be a better word, since they were not exactly free, to put it mildly. Voldemort expected everyone he took to join him. Dad and Rob weren't inclined to, but it was made clear to them that they would be killed if they didn't. They reluctantly agreed, and Lucius Malfoy was put in charge of their assimilation into the Death Eaters.

"I'm also a Legilimens, and an Occlumens; my magical power for standard spells is no better than average, but I've always had great aptitude for spells affecting the mind. Against the possibility of being caught, Dad occasionally had me put Memory Charms on him and Rob, as they had information they didn't want the magical authorities taking from them. The Legilimens working for the Department of Magic aren't supposed to do that, but they've been known to anyway. Voldemort, however, was most unhappy that Dad and Rob had Memory Charms; he didn't want anyone under his command having Memory Charms that he didn't put there. Malfoy told them that if the one who put them there didn't remove them, Voldemort would do it, and none too gently. Malfoy brought them to me and told me that they would die if I didn't remove the Charms. I did so, and did Legilimens on my father to find out what had happened to them. That's how I know they didn't join Voldemort willingly."

Drake touched his wand, doing Legilimens again. "I see we've reached the point in the story where you're starting to guess the rest. Yes, they were captured in the attack on Hogwarts, the one in which Potter came up with the area-effect Imperius Charm. They were then put to death by the Ministry, along with everyone else involved in the attack. I see that you understand that it was an abhorrent miscarriage of justice. They were executed for something they were coerced into doing, and had of their own volition done nothing worse than break a law that shouldn't be there in the first place."

Hugo finally spoke. "My understanding was that Bright told Harry that all those executed had willingly allied themselves with the Death Eaters."

"Yes, I know that. Clearly, he was either lying, or incorrect. I'll probably find out at some point, not that I care a great deal. He is responsible, in any case." Drake did Legilimens yet again, and laughed. "Why didn't I take my grievance through the proper channels, you want to know. You'd have written a story about it, it would have gotten a great deal of sympathy. I see that you would have done that, but it wouldn't have made any difference, not in the long run. People in England had been terrorized by Voldemort and they wanted revenge; they weren't all that particular about who was on the receiving end of it." Again, Legilimens. "Yes, not unlike the Americans after nine-eleven. A good analogy. So though I hold certain people, such as Bright and Lucius Malfoy, more responsible than others, everyone Is generally responsible, for not making sure their leaders took care who they killed. So, I don't mind taking my revenge on everyone, generally.

"But another, better reason I didn't go through channels is... the American Muggles have a phrase, 'going postal,' which more or less means taking leave of your senses and killing as many people as you can, in response to the wrongs you've suffered, the miserable state of your existence, and so forth. Inherent in the phrase is the notion that you've been pushed to this point. Well, a few months after I lost Dad and Rob, that happened to me, in a fashion. Not that I went crazy, or lashed out. I just woke up one morning with the clear knowledge of what I should do, and the will and focus to do it. It was like an epiphany, I don't know how else to explain it. I became cold inside, merciless, as you saw when you first looked at me. I'd had enough of what the world had done to me. I wasn't going to lie down like a sheep and take it."

Hugo felt somewhat reassured that he could say what he was going to say. "You won't get far, whatever you're planning. Harry will stop you."

Drake nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed he could," he agreed. "I'm working on that, though I don't quite have the answer yet. That will be one of your jobs, to help me find a vulnerability of his that I can exploit. But it's not crucial yet; I'm still in the stage of setting up my dominoes, I'm not yet ready to tip the first one over. Many pieces are in place, though, and one of the Potter Six is unknowingly assisting me already, mostly just with information.

"Well, enough about me. Let's talk about you, and why you're here. I've been planning what I'll do for quite some time, and I've set up an information network, keeping my ears open for whatever might be of fortuitous assistance to me; your decision to take a year to travel alone was one such thing. It had occurred to me earlier that your abilities would be useful, but your sudden disappearance would have drawn attention--particularly from Potter, which I can't risk. I'm staying as far from him as I can get. But your traveling alone... it could hardly be more perfect. You have no family, and you didn't arrange to stay in contact with anyone. Even if I need to keep you longer than the year, others will assume that you just extended your trip.

"You needn't worry about your conscience bothering you about what you're going to do, since you have no choice anyway, and you'll be under the Imperius Curse much of the time. You'll be using your ability on whoever I point you toward, and I'll use Legilimens on you to get what you got. Fortunately for me, your natural abilities don't include Occlumency, and I see you never studied it. I could simply use Legilimens on them, of course, but you can get information instantly, from a distance, without risk of detection. You'll tell me who's a good candidate to be compromised, what their soft spots are, things like that."

Drake now leaned forward in his chair and eyed Hugo carefully. "You're thinking about escaping. You've concluded that it's probably impossible, but you never know when a chance might come along. I did check, but I didn't really need to; anyone in your position would think about that. I would, it's perfectly natural. However, I need to impress on you in the strongest possible terms," he emphasized the words with his tone, "that that is unacceptable. I don't mean that trying to escape is unacceptable; I mean that thinking about escape is unacceptable. Now, to some extent we can't help what we think, especially in your situation. But we can train ourselves to think a certain way, or to not think about things."

Drake stood and waved his wand at a door, and to Hugo's shock, Lucius Malfoy walked into the room. Drake's statement that he held Malfoy responsible for his family's fate notwithstanding, Malfoy looked not at all like a captive. Drake nodded to Malfoy, who pointed his wand at Hugo and uttered the word Hugo had hoped never to hear: "Crucio."

Hugo was in blinding, unrelenting pain. He was unaware that he was screaming, unaware of anything except the pain. It went on, and on, and on; it was debilitating. Finally it was over; he was on the floor, gasping. He never noticed having fallen out of the chair. Drake gestured to Malfoy, who left the room.

Drake sat again, his eyes pitiless. "I'm not a sadist," he remarked. "I don't particularly enjoy that. He does, however; it's what he lives for. You're aware of the effect the Cleansing had on Death Eaters." He paused, watching Hugo recover. "Look at me," he ordered Hugo, who did. Drake fixed Hugo with a merciless stare. "You will train yourself not to think about escape, or suicide; you are no good to me dead. If the thought occurs, you will shut it down within one second. Recall a favorite memory, count to a hundred, do whatever you need to, but don't linger on that thought. I'll be checking periodically, especially at first. If I check, and find that you had the thought and didn't shut it down immediately, what just happened will happen again. It's being carefully timed, and each time it happens, it'll be for ten seconds longer than the last time. Do you understand?"

Hugo swallowed hard and nodded. He would try; he had no choice. No point in thinking about something that wasn't going to happen anyway. But why Malfoy? What was he doing here?

Drake put down his wand. "Good, I see you've accepted the necessity to try. That should save us both unnecessary aggravation, though it may disappoint Lucius; we'll see how that goes. You may need to be reminded once or twice. I was serious about the one-second limit. Two seconds is too much. As for Malfoy, I am exacting my revenge on him; it's just slower and more drawn-out. He didn't come into my service any more willingly than Dad and Rob came into his; I like the notion of reciprocity. I have my hooks well into him; he's not going anywhere.

"Now, I'm going to be viewing some memories for a while, see if I can find anything to use against Potter, or anything generally helpful." Drake cast Legilimens. Hugo felt despair; he was never going to get away, and his abilities would be put to purposes totally opposed to what he believed, be used to ruin people's lives. Not only that, even his mind would not be his own; it could be checked any time. He suddenly had a strange thought: he wished he had taken Jolene up on her unspoken offer. That wasn't going to happen again for a long time, probably never.

A few seconds later, Drake let out what sounded like an amused grunt. "Yes, you probably should have. We've got to take our moments of happiness where we can get them, and I think you've had your last." As Drake continued searching Hugo's memory, Hugo was again chilled by Drake's attitude. Drake wasn't pleased that he was destroying Hugo's life. He just didn't care.