When Worlds Collide

Chapter 16 - Afternoon of Answers

The first thing Harry noticed in the friendly environment of the Weasley home, was Mrs Weasley worriedly hurrying them all to sit down in the kitchen while she peppered them with anxious questions, and Mr Weasley looking serious in his seat at the table.

The second was Trina and Tony sitting alongside him.

Within moments, both he and Ron had their wands out, while Hermione was looking sufficiently shocked and suspicious.

"Sit down children, please," goaded Mrs Weasley, and she tried to heard them toward the table, but although Ginny and the twins obeyed, the trio would have none of it.

"What's she doing here?!" Ron said, accusingly.

"It seems some explaining is in order," Dumbledore said calmly as he obliged Mrs Weasley by taking a seat at the table while she bustled around the kitchen getting something to eat for them all. "I assure you, gentlemen, your wands are not necessary here."

Harry and Ron were dubious, but as Dumbledore was with them, they had no sensible reason to remain armed. After a moment's hesitation they slowly put their wands away and headed to the table to sit, but made sure they were as far away from Tony as possible.

Mrs Weasley laid plates of biscuits and slices on the table, and proceeded to lay out cups and spoons for tea. Nothing was discussed as she fetched a jug of milk, the kettle of boiled water, and bowls of sugar and teabags before settling herself at the table.

"Thankyou, Molly," Dumbledore said amicably as he reached for a biscuit. "It all looks absolutely delicious. And Harry, I meant to congratulate you on the new fashion - it quite becomes you." He pushed his own glasses up his nose as if to emphasise the fact he still dealt with the burden.

Harry could restrain himself no longer. "What's she doing here?" he heatedly repeated Ron's question.

Harry fidgeted impatiently as Dumbledore finished his mouthful of biscuit with a blissful expression on his face.

"Well now, how to start..." the old man finally mused to himself, his captive audience waiting on edge. To Harry's surprise, even Trina and Tony looked keen to hear.

Dumbledore looked at Harry and began, "You undoubtedly learned at some stage that your transferral to New Zealand was in error-"

"Yeah, Voldemort said that," Harry interrupted, and Mr and Mrs Weasley cringed at the name. "But he didn't look too upset about it."

"Undoubtedly though, at the time, he was," Dumbledore surmised.

"He said he 'dealt with the one' that did it, or something," Hermione speculated.

"Quite," Dumbledore agreed.

"How does something like that happen by accident?" Mrs Weasley asked him, looking to be still quite in shock at the prospect of Ron being so far away.

"I should think it was an error in understanding," Dumbledore supplied. "It was most likely he had planned these students to be taken to a residence in England called Hastings - where he was currently staying - where they would be covered by a charm concealing their location, allowing him time to do whatever he wished. It would have been a mishap indeed when they were sent to the Hastings furthest away from him, and that his own concealment charm was protecting them from him."

"Blimey," Mr Weasley breathed.

"As you all would know," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort is not one to sit back and moan at a failure, but to aggressively find ways to fix it. And it was with the help of their newfound companions that he managed to do it."

Wary looks were again aimed toward the two foreigners, who had the decency to look guilty - though Harry thought Tony didn't look nearly as guilty as she should.

"Be assured," Dumbledore said, "that neither of them were aware of their role. To their knowledge, they were just two ordinary muggles on a rather...unusual journey. Allow me to show you how Lord Voldemort crafted his success."

The old wizard withdrew a small flask from his robes, and laid it on the table in front of Tony. "If you would drink this, I'd be much obliged."

Tony looked as if she'd just been offered poison. "What is it?" she voiced hesitantly.

"It is Revelare Potion," Dumbledore replied, although this information did nothing for Tony.

"I know what that is!" Ginny said enthusiastically. "Snape made us make it soon after they all left England, and I had to do a 3-foot long essay on it."

"Then what on earth is it?" Ron asked exasperatedly. "Is anyone going to actually tell us?"

Dumbledore looked at Ginny, who hurriedly replied, "It reveals the mark of a traitor. Ancient kings in wizarding history used it. They'd make all their servants drink some, and the ones who had been posted as spies or assassins were shown as traitors, while all the other servants remained normal, and just felt like they'd had a rather refreshing blueberry juice."

"An excellent explanation, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, and Ginny glowed at his praise.

"Y'know, I don't like blueberry juice," Tony mumbled, nervously fingering the flask. "Not that I suppose that's a concern to anybody."

"So drink it already," Ron said bitterly, and his mother looked at him reproachfully.

Tony took one last wary glance at the flask before downing its contents, and making a grotesque face as she placed the empty bottle back on the table. "If anyone's interested, after that beverage, I still don't like blueberry juice." The other people around the table continued to look at her expectantly.

"Thankyou," Dumbledore said to her. "Now if you would be so kind as to show us your arms."

Tony, beyond questioning now, shrugged off her jacket so it fell between her back and the chair, and laid her arms in front of her on the table.

A collective gasp was heard as the mark was shown on her forearm.

Harry saw it was similar to the Dark Mark, except it didn't look like a dark tattoo, but more like a shimmering whitish-gold apparition that would disappear at any moment.

"She's not been initiated as a Death Eater has she?" Mrs Weasley asked, incredulously.

Tony discreetly rolled her eyes and muttered sarcastically to Trina, "Yeah, he'd do that to a muggle. Because he's so culturally tolerant."

"No, he has not done so," Dumbledore assured Molly Weasley.

"How did it work?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"This is a rather infrequently utilised spell - not even Ministry recognised," Dumbledore explained, "so, even for him, it was not so simple to trace them. I concluded that they must have stayed in Hastings for a week before moving on - that week must have been the most frustrating for Voldemort, as he would not have known for sure if the charm had worked. It was not until they left Hastings and he detected a shift that he knew the mark had been successfully placed."

"But how did he know me?" Tony asked. "I assume he doesn't memorise family lines of far-off muggles."

"He had no way of knowing you by name or face," agreed Dumbledore, "but nor did he need to. The mark was placed specifically on the host Harry interacted with on his arrival to Hastings. Which, naturally, turned out to be you."

"Yeah, we were staying at your place the night they showed up," Trina reminded Tony.

"Lucky me," Tony replied glumly.

"But how did you know, Professor?" inquired Ginny. "When we met you in the café you said that Trina was the reason you knew where Harry was."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore to the many inquisitive looks that had been sharply directed to him at this. "I had ventured a guess - anticipated, if you will - that Voldemort would use this means of tracing them, so I performed a similar charm. Obviously, I could not charm the same person without bringing risk of exposure to Voldemort of what I was doing, so I chanced the fact that his marked host would be with another - which, fortunately, she was."

"Whoa," said Trina, trying to comprehend. "So...I have a... a thing...mark...thing?"

"Not a visible one," Dumbledore smiled at her. And as you were not - unwittingly or otherwise - working against Harry, Hermione and Ron here, nothing would be displayed from the ingestion of the Revelare potion."

"Is there any way to know?" Fred asked, and Harry presumed that he and his twin would doubtlessly be speculating what new spells and jokes they could make with the use of this new information.

"I boast a little when I say that my own mark is less conspicuous than that of Voldemort," Dumbledore said proudly. "Did you not see any signs of a mark - of discomfort, on Tony for the duration of your travels? Admittedly, it is likely they may have been subtle, since you had not suspected her of anything."

"Uh..." said Ron dumbly, as he tried to think of something.

Hermione had been lost in thought, before volunteering, "Tony, remember when you were taking ages to come back from that fountain you liked in Napier? I recall it vividly because we were all getting rather annoyed at you taking so long-"

"Why, thankyou," Tony interjected sarcastically.

"-but before you came back to the car, you ran water over the forearm that was marked, as if trying to cool it down."

"And you would occasionally rub or scratch your arm too," Trina said, "as if there was something irritating it, or tickling it."

Tony looked slightly frustrated as she said disbelievingly across the table, "And how is it that you notice and remember all this, but fail to pick up on the larger-than-life hints that would have told you I wasn't the bad guy?! When Voldemort showed me to you, you didn't stop to think reasonably, did you?!"

"He did have a convincing argument," Hermione said guiltily, by way of explanation, "considering Draco was too young to have been initiated, so have a mark that would do it."

"Oh, of course," Tony replied, in mock apology. "And naturally, his word is worth a lot."

"We're sorry!" Hermione said desperately, as if it would help.

"What about Trina's mark thingee?" Tony said. "What signs did she get?"

"Well...I don't know," said Hermione.

"Right," said Tony conclusively. "Bet you'd remember more if you thought she was the baddie. The closest you could probably get was a bird flying so close to her at Napier beach, and at Rainbow's End. If that had anything to do with it."

"Now, everyone," Mrs Weasley said in an effort to draw a close to the argument and tension regarding the marks. "Help yourselves to a biscuit."

"Wow, I'm trusted not to relay the secret biscuit recipe to Voldemort just because I have a bitter traitor's spirit..." Tony said scathingly.

Mrs Weasley looked sorely tempted to say something of discipline to Tony, but considering present company and the fact she didn't know her, she refrained.

"So what else happened?" Mr Weasley was intensely interested in the Gryffindor three's time with the muggles.

"We stayed in a motel for a bit," Hermione supplied. "Then it was pretty much non-stop up to Auckland - that was the last place we were at before we came back over here. We came back just when Harry and Draco were going down Fear Fall-"

"What on earth is that?!" Mrs Weasley asked, alarmed. "That doesn't sound safe."

"It was fine, Mum - just a ride at a park," Ron appeased her.

"And you all just disappeared partway through this ride?"

"Well...yeah. Come to think of it, I guess it would have caused a disturbance when two people high in the air just disappeared, and people on the ground, too."

"I don't reckon you'll have anything worry about," Tony said, apathetically. "They'll do what muggles have always done throughout history. They'll search for bodies and scientific explanations, and when they don't find any, they'll put it down to aliens. Easy."

"We didn't actually all go back at the same time," Trina said. "I mean, you three and Draco did-"

"Probably a reversal charm," interjected Hermione.

"-but we were taken over separately. I must have been first, because I didn't see Tony go. When I found myself with Dumbledore and Tony didn't show up, I presumed she was still in New Zealand. So I'm just finding stuff out now, too."

"And anyway," said Ron, "then we ended up in a castle, where we came up against Voldemort-"

Molly Weasley gasped loudly at the thought.

"-but Dumbledore came, and got us all out, and now we're here."

"Indeed," Dumbledore, who had been largely quiet, agreed. "And I'm thoroughly relieved I was able to do so."

"What exactly happened in there?" Harry asked. "I mean, the fighting hadn't gone on long before there was a massive bang, and you cast some sort of spell."

"The bang was us," George said proudly. "Popping Fizzy-Pebbles. We've used them before as a distraction."

"Distraction for what, exactly?" prompted Hermione. "What was the spell?"

"Ah, yes, I was rather proud of it," Dumbledore said, smiling triumphantly. "Although it was rather difficult, and it had been a long time since I've used it."

"Is that why it flickered a bit?"

"Well, perhaps, but it is a difficult spell to maintain, for anybody."

"So why could some of us see - although not very well, and some people not at all?" Ron asked.

"The words," Hermione said, half to herself. "What were they? Totalus...?"

"Totus caecus excludo leo," Dumbledore supplied amicably, interested to hear her dissection of the phrase.

"Caucus has something to do with blindness, I'm sure..." Hermione mused. "I remember reading about it."

"Oh, really?" George said, feigning surprise. "We never saw that coming!"

Hermione ignored him as she continued, "Totus caecus...total blindness...or blindness to all..." Harry and Ron looked at each other in resignation as their friend continued to display the habit of showing academic brilliance. "...excludo leo... to exclude-"

"Excluding lions?" Ron said, quizzically.

"Of course," Hermione said, in an explanation to say she'd figured it out. "Leo! Lion! That's the symbol of Gryffindors! Everyone was struck with blindness, except for those who had been in Gryffindor!"

Dumbledore looked down at her through his half-moon glasses, as he congratulated her, "Yes, once again, Miss Granger, you display remarkable promise."

Hermione glowed.

"Lucky no past Gryffindors became Death Eaters," Ron said. "Not that they would."

"Death Eaters aren't all Slytherins, Ron," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, I know that, but Gryffindors have a bit more pride and sense than the rest."

Mrs Weasley looked unsure of what to say in censure to her son, but she needn't have worried at all, as Dumbledore said, "Your house loyalty is admirable, young Mr Weasley, but I'm sure there would have been Gryffindors among their number. Even the bravest man is lured by power - sometimes even more so than others. We were merely fortunate there were minimal members of that house in our adversaries."

Ron scowled a little at being corrected, and bit down stubbornly into a biscuit.

"So, girls," Mr Weasley said to Trina and Tony after a pregnant pause by all at the table, "tell me about this Michael Jackson who dances a walk on the moon..."

~<>~

"Where's Malfoy now?" Ron was saying as he clambered along his bed to sit at the end, and Harry sat across from him on the spare. Hermione sat in silence on a chair in the corner. "Dumbledore didn't say anything about him."

Harry mused on the fact that Dumbledore did indeed have a very irritating habit of leaving out the facts of most interest.

"Surely he's not on our side," Ron continued. "I mean, he may not be totally evil - as much as I never want to hear myself admit that ever again - but, he's Malfoy! He doesn't just join the side of the light, and fight for goodness, and peace, and...and puppies... Harry?"

Harry's glazed eyes snapped to attention and he looked at his friend. "I don't know what the story is with Malfoy. It all got so confusing ever since we came back here. Well, ever since we left, really."

"He's not our friend, though," Ron stated, and although Harry noted this was bordering on an insult and may not have been deserved, he was still inclined to agree.

"I wonder where he is?" Harry said quietly, almost to himself.

"Probably ensuring his reputation in Voldemort's circle hasn't been tarnished, and his Death Eater initiation's still scheduled."

"Your faith overwhelms," came a voice from the door, and the two boys looked up to see Draco Malfoy framed in the doorway, his face neutrally lacking expression. "Remind me to choose a better investment, should I ever decide to make Gryffindor friends."

"Malfoy-" Harry started in apology, before Draco interrupted him.

"Anyway, you're to come back downstairs. Dumbledore and the others are finished talking." Draco turned to walk back down the stairs to the dining room, and the other two boys hurriedly made to follow him.

"'The others' including you, right?" Harry began. "So, what were you talking about?"

Draco didn't reply, but continued down the stairs, and made his way over to sit at the table.

Harry saw that Mr Weasley, Trina, and Tony were no longer there, and the other three Weasley children came in from the garden to sit at the table. "Where'd the others go?"

"I didn't see it as necessary that the two girls needed to stay. After all, our discussions would probably bore them."

Harry doubted it. Dumbledore just had a frustrating history of only talking to people that needed to know something.

"They are, as I speak, settling into a very comfortable lodging just outside of London," the old wizard continued as his audience sat. "I've been there myself. Lovely cinnamon rolls."

Harry and Ron only looked at each other. Even after all these years, Dumbledore's oddities never failed to astound.

"This is likely to be news to you three recent arrivals - as young Mr Malfoy now knows too - but I am unable to escort you back into Hogwarts."

Hermione looked up in shocked surprise. "What do you mean?!"

"Since your departure from us," Dumbledore continued to inform them, "the school has been put under Ministry organization, making me no longer headmaster."

"You've been fired?" Ron screeched.

"It is an unfortunate state of things, but I have every confidence that it will soon be remedied...if you would be so kind as to help."

"What?" Harry said enthusiastically. "Anything!"

"I have spoken to Draco regarding the plan of action. He can fill you in on the way."

"On the way?" Hermione asked. "We're going now? So...we're just going to walk in?"

"Not on your own, naturally," Dumbledore said. "And certainly not in so bold a way as you imply."

"Then who-?"

Harry realised just who, even before the notorious greasy voice came from the direction of the fireplace.