Harry Potter and the Silent Siege

Chapter 4

Meetings and Partings

Harry continued to pick up speed as he tumbled out of the sky. He tried frantically to think of a spell that could save him, but his mind seemed to go blank. He remembered how his broomstick had flown out of control his first year when it had been enchanted by Professor Quirrell. No one had seemed to know how to bring him down safely then and it seemed very doubtful that anyone could save him now.

***

Ginny looked out of the window in horror. She could see by the combined light of the wands shining out from Gryffindor Tower that the remaining broomstick-less rider was falling from very high in the sky. She was vaguely aware of spells being cast by the Gryffindors around her but none seemed to stop the falling rider. She tried to think of something herself but her mind seemed to just cloud over with panic. She didn't dare to think that it might be Harry falling from the sky. Whoever it was badly needed their help, but everything was happening so fast.

***

Hermione and Ron looked up suddenly as a white blur flew in through the open window of Dumbledore's office.

"Hedwig!" cried Ron.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. They could both see that each other was thinking the same thing. Hedwig had survived the attack on Privet Drive. Did they dare to take any hope from this?

Before their imaginations could carry them away, Ron and Hermione's attention was forced back to Hedwig. Still flapping her wings furiously in the air, the snowy owl flew directly over to Fawkes and began squawking loudly. Fawkes responded only by cocking his head inquisitively as though in disapproval of Hedwig's undignified behavior.

Then Fawkes unfolded his enormous wings causing Ron and Hermione to jump back. He jumped out of the window and into the night. Ron and Hermione looked at each other again for a moment as he left, then quickly ran to look out of the window.

***

Ginny stood frozen to the spot as she watched the figure fall faster and faster down toward the earth. Suddenly she became aware of cries to her left and saw the arms of her housemates pointing out into another part of the sky. Ginny turned to her right and felt her heart skip a beat. Someone was coming to the rescue. She watched as Fawkes gracefully arched away from the castle. With two effortless beats of his tremendous wings, he had easily swept over the grounds to where the rider was falling.

Ginny and the other Gryffindors kept their wands pointed in the direction of the falling rider. They could see Fawkes start to close on his position but the rider was almost to the ground. Was he going to make it?

***

Harry watched the ground move ever closer. He was now almost level with the top stands of his beloved Quidditch pitch. Looking to his right, he could see Hagrid's small hut loom into focus and remembered, as if in a dream, all of the nights he, Ron, and Hermione had shared there. In the few brief seconds before Harry knew he would make very hard contact with the ground, he tried to take comfort in the thought that he would at least die here, near his friends, not somewhere far away where he was not loved and not wanted, hearing only the chilling cries of Voldemort's merciless laugh in his final moment of the life like his parents had. He suddenly saw a large boulder loom right in front of him. Harry wondered whether he would feel any pain. He closed his eyes and braced himself for contact -

And felt two large talons dig into his back. Harry winced in pain as something grabbed onto him. He lifted off the ground, his face skirting so close to the earth that he could feel the fresh smelling grass of the lawn rise up through his nostrils. Harry looked up and saw the belly of Fawkes the Phoenix above him. He heard the enormous whoosh of Fawkes' powerful wingspan as he was carried back into the air. Harry let out an enormous giddy laugh. He laughed so hard his insides ached and tears streamed from his cheeks. He was going to live. He had looked death in the eyes and cheated it once again.

***

Gryffindor Tower erupted in loud cheers as Fawkes pulled the falling rider up from the ground. The cheers immediately died down, however, replaced by a hush of anticipation as it became clear that Fawkes was returning with the rider straight up toward them. It wouldn't do very well if it was Voldemort he was carrying in his claws.

Ginny felt her legs start to weaken and could swear her heart had stopped dead still as Fawkes moved the figure closer and closer. He was moving quickly and it was only moments before the figure was on top of them and they could see him clearly. At first, no one quite knew what to do make of whomever it was Fawkes had just saved. He was heavy-set, dressed in a torn sweater and trousers several sizes too small. His face was cut and bleeding and his right trouser leg was completely torn off with a large gash on his ankle. It was not someone they immediately recognized. But those glasses looked familiar and then a gust of wind blew up a patchy dome of blond and black hair. The lightning bold scar on the rider's forehead was unmistakable. However strange the tale was this time, there could be no doubt that this was Harry Potter.

An even louder cheer went up from Gryffindor Tower as Harry raised his fist triumphantly in the air. It was as if they had just won the House Cup. Seamus started a chant of "HA - RRY, HA - RRY." Ginny tried to join in but her cries caught in her throat; soon she, like Harry before her, was overcome with a wonderful excited laughter that made her whole body feel warm. The Boy Who Lived was alive. He was back at Hogwarts, and back in Ginny's life.

Fawkes suspended Harry outside of the Gryffindor Tower window for a moment, and then swooped him away in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

***

Harry saw the long narrow windows of Dumbledore's office come into view and Ron and Hermione's faces staring out to him from the window. They backed away as Fawkes gracefully maneuvered Harry through the narrow opening before coming to rest himself on his familiar perch.

Both Ron and Hermione took three steps backward and stared at Harry, their mouths wide open. Harry was grinning widely and moved toward them but they moved back again and Ron reached for his wand.

Then Harry remembered. "Oh," he said, almost apologetically. "It's me." He lifted up the bangs of his hair to show the scar.

Both Ron and Hermione continued to stare at Harry dumfounded. Then Hermione ran up and flung her arms around Harry causing him to lose his balance and step back. She held on tightly for a few seconds, then stepped back to look at Harry, her eyes screwed up and tears running down her cheeks.

"How did you - " she cried. "Where did you - " She suddenly punched Harry hard in the shoulder. "You bloody idiot!" she declared.

"Ow," said Harry. "Nice to see you, too."

Hermione flung her arms back around Harry again and wailed almost as loud as she had when McGonagall had just told her Harry had died.

Finally, Hermione reluctantly let go of Harry and stood to one side, sobbing and smiling at the same time. Then Harry looked at Ron. He immediately felt a lump start to form in his throat as he saw Ron's eyes start to water over.

"A - All right, mate?" asked Ron. He held out his hand.

Harry didn't answer. He reached over and grabbed Ron into a massive bear hug.

"Ow, Jesus, Harry," said Ron as he pulled away. "Careful. Your cousin's not the lightest of chaps." He looked searchingly at Harry. "It is your cousin, isn't it?"

Hermione's saw Harry's face cloud over. He nodded.

"But how did you come - " Ron began. He was interrupted when the door to the office opened and McGonagall walked back in followed by Dumbledore.

McGonagall looked at the trio and gave a small gasp.

Dumbledore walked forward to Harry. "I'm afraid that Hogwarts does not normally accept transfer students."

"Oh." Harry looked from McGonagall to Dumbledore. "But I'm - "

Harry stopped as he saw a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and then smiled.

McGonagall collapsed into tears and took out her spotted handkerchief again. She stepped toward Harry haltingly and then grabbed him into an awkward hug. "How do you always manage to get yourself into so much trouble?" she asked.

"I - I suppose I'm a little bit late for the feast," Harry muttered unassumingly.

"Not to worry, Harry," said Dumbledore. "The feast was cancelled in your honor. But I think we can arrange something for tomorrow evening under the circumstances. As for now, please sit down."

Dumbledore conjured up three more chairs and a full range of tea and fresh warm food. Hedwig flew over from where she had been standing near Fawkes and nipped Harry affectionately on the hand. Harry took a large plate of chocolate and fed Hedwig gratefully. Fawkes himself then flew over and bowed his head reverently causing his tears to fall and heal Harry's ankle where it had been bitten by the spider. Harry then turned around and Fawkes dropped tears down his back where he had grabbed him. Finally, he rubbed his head affectionately in Harry's hands. Harry cupped his hands and then smeared the teardrops all over his face and neck and his small cuts and bruises cleared.

"I suppose the Polyjuice Potion will still take a few more hours to wear off," said Harry.

"It might lead to some confusion, yes," said Dumbledore. "But I think I can arrange something a little quicker." He drew out his wand. "Apprecium Restorem."

The likeness of Dudley Dursley vanished for the last time and Harry found himself back in his own body, with much better fitting, albeit still tattered, clothes.

"I didn't know you could do that," said Ron in amazement.

"As a matter of fact, I've only just learned the spell myself," replied Dumbledore.

"You still learn spells?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Yes, Hermione," replied Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling again. "Even one as old as I never really stops learning." He turned to Harry. "And now, Harry, I think we'd all very much like to hear how you came to be with us this evening."

Harry took a deep breath and was just about to start when the door to Dumbledore's office opened and the Potions master Severus Snape flew in like a bat, his usual reserved demeanor abandoned.

"Headmaster!" he cried. "I've just received news. Potter's not - " He stopped short as he looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting down to eat.

"Oh, I see," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore turned back. "Thank you, Severus. It appears Mr. Potter has managed to find his way here. If you could please inform the prefects that the situation is presently under control and that classes will be held as scheduled tomorrow."

Snape nodded and left without another word, his eyes darting searchingly among the trio of friends as if suspecting them of some underhandedness in securing Harry's survival.

"Sirius!" cried Harry suddenly. "He fell out of the sky near the forest! I don't know whether he - whether he's alright!"

"Steady on, Harry," said Dumbledore, touching his arm gently. "We'll send someone out to look for him as soon as we can. But first we need to hear what happened."

And so Harry told them. About his scar hurting, about Sirius running into Privet Drive, about Dudley and the Polyjuice Potion, and then how the house burned down and the Dursleys could only cower under the table (at this, Hermione bit her lip and squeezed Harry's shoulder). Then how he and Sirius had hid out all day and finally the chase on the broomsticks (here McGonagall kept gasping while Ron cried "wicked!" earning a disapproving stare from Hermione).

"And you're sure it was Lucius Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry nodded somberly.

"Albus," cried McGonagall. "What can we do? The boy's safety?"

"We must presume that Hogwarts is still safe, at least for the time being," replied Dumbledore. "Otherwise Lucius would have followed him here. I'm afraid that, for now, that is all we know. There is no use to be gained in worrying. Whatever will happen, will happen. In the meantime, we must continue with our present arrangements, Minerva. We must tread carefully. Lucius Malfoy is still a governor of this school and there are still too few in the Ministry who believe the news of Voldemort's return. I must go to find Sirius tonight. If you could see to the arrangements?"

McGonagall nodded and quickly rose.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged puzzled glances.

"And if you, Ron, and Hermione, wouldn't mind returning to Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore continued. He rose from his chair, followed quickly by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I trust you can find your own way back. I'm sure your fellow housemates will be pleased to hear of Harry's safe return. No doubt you can satisfy their curiosity, leaving out one or two indiscreet details, of course."

Ron and Hermione nodded and turned to leave. Harry smiled at Dumbledore. He knew that Harry wouldn't want to have to tell anyone again himself.

"If you all wouldn't mind," said Dumbledore. "I should like to talk to Harry alone."

"We'll wait up for you," said Ron.

Harry smiled and nodded, watching them go.

Dumbledore motioned back to the chair. "Please sit down again, Harry."

Harry sat down and so did Dumbledore. Harry looked at Dumbledore's face and was surprised to see how much the headmaster seemed to have aged in the short span of the summer since they had last seen each other.

Dumbledore quietly munched on a remaining square of apple tart and then finally turned to Harry and said gravely:

"I do not want to lie to you, Harry. The situation is very serious. I did not think that Voldemort could have attacked your family's home or I would have certainly never have left you there. I also did not believe he would strike so boldly, so soon. Something must be giving him added confidence. I need to find out what it is."

Harry nodded and swallowed. He could not honestly say he was surprised at what Dumbledore had told him. He knew that Dumbledore's plan to protect him had failed as soon as Privet Drive had been attacked. But to hear it from Dumbledore's own mouth was another thing.

"I also need to find out how it was that the Death Eaters found where you and Sirius were hiding in the forest. That information should have been known only to myself and Sirius."

"Do you think there could be someone here, at Hogwarts, giving the Death Eaters information?"

"I fear it is likely, Harry, yes. Before you banished Voldemort the first time, it was always difficult to know whom to trust. I fear it is even more so now."

Harry nodded.

"I will, of course," Dumbledore went on, "do everything I can to ensure your safety this year, Harry, as well as the safety of all Hogwarts students and staff. And that means I must be personally involved. If Voldemort has seen fit to no longer operate from the sidelines, then neither can I. That is why I must tell you now, Harry," Dumbledore looked him directly in the eye, "that I cannot be your headmaster this year."

***

Ron and Hermione walked back along the deserted corridors toward Gryffindor Tower. Ron took such long forward strides that Hermione had to trot to keep pace.

"I bet they all think he's dead," said Ron, "just wait until we tell them!"

"Honestly, Ron," replied Hermione. "I don't know how you can carry on like this. I'm still a mess," but she could not stop herself from beaming at the thought of Harry's safe recovery.

After leaving Dumbledore's office via the spiral staircase, Ron and Hermione had to walk down another two flights of steps and move alongside the great hall near the main door before they could reach the moving staircases that led to Gryffindor Tower. They were just passing through the corridor that led onto the staircase in front of the entranceway when there was a sudden unexpected sound.

Ron and Hermione stopped.

"Did you hear that?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded. "It sounded like someone was opening the main door. But the students should all be up in their dormitories. I suppose it could be a teacher, or Filch."

Ron's eyes widened suddenly. "You don't think it could be - "

Hermione looked back at Ron, her face slowly losing its color.

There was another loud thud that sounded like the door being closed, followed immediately by the sharp, impatient clack of boots on stone. In the dim light, Ron and Hermione could make out a long, tall shadow that grew on the wall as its owner moved nearer the corner that Ron and Hermione were approaching from the other side. It certainly did not sound like Filch, whose footsteps were much more measured. Filch's cat Mrs. Norris, who inevitably preceded him around any corner, was nowhere to be seen. Nor did it sound like the sweeping almost silent step of Professor Snape that Hermione and Ron knew all too well. These footsteps echoed loudly off the walls as if each step was trod in anger.

Hermione looked at Ron again. Swallowing nervously, both of the Gryffindors took out their wands and walked quickly forward to intercept the walker. The shadow grew longer on the floor. Any minute now and it would round the corner and its owner would run straight into Ron and Hermione. Ron hugged the corner while Hermione took the outside. His wand held out in front of him, Ron turned the corner at the same time as the walker continued his clip around.

There was a thump as Ron and the figure collided into each other and fell to the floor. Hermione rushed over. The figure rubbed his shoulder, his face still hidden in shadow.

Ron got up first and pointed his wand at the figure.

"Lumos."

Hermione gasped as the light of Ron's wand caught the face of Draco Malfoy, his mouth curled up in a cross between a sardonic smirk and a snarl. The normally well-kept Slytherin looked as if he had just wrestled with a giant man-eating plant and lost. His normally smooth slicked-back blond hair was pointing at sixes and sevens with what looked like pieces of twigs and fern leaves imbedded inside. Malfoy's face was darkened with sot. Dozens of small cuts lined his forehead and a thick gash creased the side of his face. His robes were caked with earth and torn in several places. He clutched protectively in his hands the bottom half of his Nimbus 2001 broomstick. Jagged bits of wood stuck up in the middle where the top half of the stick had obviously been wrenched off.

Malfoy stood up and drew himself up to Ron. They were about equal height and Hermione noticed that each lifted his head to gain an extra few centimeters, like two large elks preparing to butt heads.

"Going somewhere, Malfoy?" asked Ron.

"Get out of my way, Weasley," snarled Malfoy in reply.

Malfoy tried to move ahead but Ron stuck an elbow in front to block his path.

"We missed you on the train, Malfoy," spat Ron through clenched teeth. "Isn't like you to miss a chance to visit us on the way out."

"I was busy," drawled Malfoy, shoving against Ron's elbow. "Anyway, I heard Potter wasn't around."

"And how would you know that?" asked Ron.

"Someone told me," replied Malfoy, his dirt-stained face suddenly broadening into a smirk. He tried to move sideways away from Ron, but found his path blocked by Hermione's wand.

"It's a bit windy for Quidditch, tonight, don't you think?" she said bitingly. "Especially when you're supposed to be in your dormitory. But you wouldn't know that, would you, if you've just come in?"

Malfoy turned to look at Hermione, narrowing his eyes menacingly. "I don't know what you're talking about, Granger. If you must know, I was bored," he said, a smile continuing to twitch around the corner of his lips. "I hadn't played all summer. It got windy; I lost my balance, and had a little accident. I was lucky to make it back here in one piece."

"I didn't think there were trees growing on the Quidditch pitch," retorted Hermione icily.

"I don't much care what you think, Granger," Malfoy spat back. "I don't have to answer to you. Now, for the last time, out of my way!"

Malfoy tried to sidestep Hermione but Ron moved to block his path and then pushed him hard against the wall, shoving the end of his elbow up against Malfoy's neck.

"If I find out you were chasing Harry through the forest, Malfoy," Ron seethed, his face livid, "you'll be very, very sorry you ever showed your face in this castle again. Do you understand?"

"You - are - getting - very - annoying, Weasley," Malfoy croaked. He moved the end of his broomstick into his left hand and shoved it hard against Ron's stomach.

The blow caught Ron unexpectedly and he fell back hard onto the stone floor.

"Ron!" cried Hermione and ran over beside him.

Malfoy flexed his shoulder and stared down contemptuously at Hermione and Ron as if they were two small rodents he had just cleared out of his path.

"I'd be very careful if I were you this year," he warned. "You've had your run of the school before. But now things are going to change." He smiled slowly seeing a flicker of surprise on Ron and Hermione's faces. "You don't know, do you?" he snarled then suddenly laughed and strode away in the direction of the Slytherin common room.

Still wincing from the pain in his stomach, Ron tried to get up and go after Malfoy but Hermione restrained him.

"Don't," she said. "He's only trying to provoke you."

She helped Ron to his feet gingerly.

"No one's going to believe his story," said Ron angrily. "What is he even thinking?"

Hermione sighed. "They don't have to, Ron. He knows no one can prove anything. And with his father still one of the governors of the school, no one would dare to press a serious accusation."

"What does he mean things are going to change this year?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Don't think about it. He's just trying to get to us, play with our heads."

"There must be something we can do."

"We have to tell Harry. It's up to him to decide."

***

"But, sir," protested Harry anxiously. "How am I going to survive if the Death Eaters try to attack? Everyone knows you're the only reason they won't touch Hogwarts. You're the only one that's keeping the school together!"

Dumbledore smiled softly and gently rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. He realized as he did so that he was now barely half a head taller than the boy now. In what had seemed to Dumbledore only the span of time it took to blink an eye, Harry had grown from the boy who had thwarted Voldemort and captured the Philosopher's Stone and had barely stood as tall as Dumbledore's chest. The intensity in Harry's eyes as he probed Dumbledore searchingly for the answers to his own fate had not changed, however. Nor had Harry's unswerving reliance to Dumbledore's cause. With an inward sigh, Dumbledore wondered whether Harry would look at him the same way again after this year was over.

"You must trust me, Harry," he said gently. "If ever I have needed your faith, it is now. If I sit here, content in my own power, power I already know that Voldemort has begun to break, then there is no telling whether any at Hogwarts will remain any safer than your aunt and uncle did. I have taken great means to protect your safety so long as you remain within this school. Arrangements will be put into place that were made long before Voldemort planned this particular attack. And if anything were to happen to Hogwarts while I was away, well," he said, a slight twinkle appearing in his eye once again, "you might be surprised at how quickly I could return."

Harry nodded slowly.

"Harry," said Dumbledore seriously. "Now that you have been reunited with your friends I'm sure you will find it tempting to try and fight Voldemort on your own. Friendship brings with it great strength, but sometimes that strength can be deceptive. I'll admit I have been, shall we say, rather lenient in the past, even occasionally pointing you in the right direction when I felt there were demons that only you could bring to heel, but this year, I must ask you to leave the battle to me and those such as Sirius, all being well, that I have managed to gather to our side." He looked at Harry sternly.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"I know this year won't be easy for you, Harry," Dumbledore continued. "But I must ask you to try and find a way to concentrate on your lessons. It is not my intention to put you and your fellow classmates through a series of hoops as an academic exercise. Your classes are the only way you can finish your training, become a fully fledged wizard and help fight the darkness that has taken your family."

Harry swallowed and nodded.

"I know you are also busy with your duties as Quidditch captain and I would not want to take that away from you, Harry, even now, but I will be scheduling you for extra private tutorials in Defense Against the Dark Arts in case you should have to defend yourself in a hurry. Professor Nevins, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, is an old friend of mine. He is also, like Professor Moody, a retired Auror. He taught your father also, Harry," Dumbledore added more quietly, "before the rise of the Dark Lord made him decide that his talents were needed elsewhere. He also has had a lot of," and here Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, "experience with Lord Voldemort. He will let you know of your schedule when your classes start."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, "but how am I to juggle all of these lessons?"

"Ah, Harry," replied Dumbledore, smiling. "I had hoped that by fulling up your schedule I might persuade you to stay out of any, shall we say, extracurricular activities. But in fairness, I suppose we should drop one of your courses. Shall we say, er, divination?"

Harry couldn't resist grinning broadly.

"I'm afraid Professor Trelawney is developing rather a poor track record in her predictions of your demise. Still, things being as they are, I think it is best not to tempt fate any longer. And if you don't have any more questions, I think it best that I be getting along. I shall, of course, first escort you to the infirmary."

"But, sir," protested Harry again. "I don't need to go. Honestly, I don't. Fawkes already healed me. I - "

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Harry, I'm sorry, but I must insist, just to have you checked."

"But," Harry protested. "Please, sir. I'm sure it's nothing that a good night's rest won't cure and my friends - my friends might be worried about me and I - I haven't seen them in ages."

Dumbledore held up his hand again but lowered it as he saw the beseeching look in Harry's eyes. Dumbledore knew all too well what Harry's friends meant to him and how it was often times little more than their support that had kept him from succumbing to unalloyed grief and despair. Dumbledore also felt an anxious twinge of something else as he looked into Harry's eyes and was afraid it was very much like guilt.

"Very well, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I suppose since I am leaving in any case that I shall manage to escape Madam Pomfrey's wrath. However, I shall expect you to check yourself into the infirmary first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning. Please mind that you do."

Harry nodded. "I will."

"In that case," said Dumbledore, gathering his hat and cloak from a nearby stand. "I shall escort you to Gryffindor Tower."

"Sir," said Harry, after a moment's pause. "If you're not here, who will be headmaster?"

"Ah, I'm afraid I will have to leave that for you to find out with the other students, Harry. It wouldn't really be fair for me to tell you alone and the new headmaster is a bit touchy about rumors."

Harry began to protest but Dumbledore had already snapped his fingers, causing a short house-elf to appear from a previously unnoticed corner of the office.

"Winky," said Dumbledore. "If you could please arrange for my carriage out of the school grounds. I believe you'll find that Professor McGonagall has arranged a package with my belongings."

"Yes, headmaster, sir," replied Winky.

"Winky?" gasped Harry in astonishment.

Winky had been the house-elf of the Crouches and had last been seen admitting to having helped Bartemis Crouch, Jr. escape from his seat during the World Quidditch Cup and launch the Dark Mark into the sky. Harry had often wondered what had happened to the house-elf and couldn't understand how she had managed to pull herself together enough to do much of anything. But the Winky who had just wandered into (or from within) Dumbledore's office was nothing like the dirty, disheveled house elf he had last seen two summers ago. She now wore a new smart-looking white apron with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the front. A bright orange sock covered her left foot and a yellow and green striped sock her right. Despite their unusual colors, both socks seemed tidy and clean.

"Harry Potter, sir!" smiled Winky, clasping her hands together. "A surprise to see you, sir! Dobby will be most pleased to hear that you have survived the Dark Lord once again, not to mention the evil dark wizards he once worked for!"

Harry smiled. Winky had definitely changed a great deal since he had last seen her if she was willing to speak ill of another house elf's family, even if it had not been her own. "Please tell Dobby I'll come to see him soon."

Winky's big eyes widened. "Harry - Potter - come - to - see - Dobby, sir?"

"Well, yes, I'm afraid it's been about a year. Please tell him - "

But Winky had broken down in heavy, wrenching sobs.

"No, Winky, please, please don't. I didn't mean - "

"Oh, Harry Potter is too kind, too great, sir. Winky is overcome as Winky is sure Dobby will be, too, when he hears the news." Winky blew her nose heavily onto her apron and seemed to gather herself together. "And Winky also wishes that Harry Potter inform the noble Miss Hermione Granger that the house elves have convened and are considering her offer most seriously."

"Er, all right," replied Harry uneasily. He decided that whatever it was, he would stay as far away as possible. He looked over at Dumbledore, hoping that he hadn't heard anything, but Dumbledore had taken that opportunity to gently release Hedwig out of the window to fly to the owlery.

He looked back to Winky. "I've got to go now, Winky."

"Good luck, Harry Potter." Winky trotted over to a corner of Dumbledore's office and seemed to walk right into a wall before it opened up at the last minute and swallowed her.

"Shall we go, Harry?" asked Dumbledore patiently.

"Yes, of course." Harry straightened up. "Sorry, sir."

Dumbledore led the way out of the office and down the spiral staircase. "It has been far too long since I've made my away up the old tower," Dumbledore mused. "I really should get out and around more."

Harry wondered if he would need to slow down for Dumbledore but he soon discovered that he had hurry to keep up with the headmaster's sprightly pace. Harry wasn't really sure what more he could say to Dumbledore and he was grateful when Dumbledore seemed to be more preoccupied with little corners of the castle that needed cleaning and pointing out the shifting positions of the occupants in the paintings along the walls, each of whom bowed in respect as he passed.

For all of his protests to Dumbledore about wanting to return immediately to Gryffindor Tower and see his friends, Harry couldn't help but feel a knot form in his stomach. How would they react? He knew Ron would have told them most of what happened, but how much would they ask him? What would he be forced to relive? Harry suddenly had an irrational fear that they were all going to look down or turn away when he arrived, as one might when passing the immediate family at a funeral. He realized that that was silly, of course, but he couldn't completely let go of the fear. It felt to him at times that everyone he cared about seemed to vanish.

***

At that moment, Ron had become the center of attention in Gryffindor Tower. Encouraged by Seamus and Dean, he had climbed onto the top of one of the tables and was describing Harry's adventures in dramatic detail, punctuated only by the occasional gasps from Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown and shouts of "wicked!" from Dean and Seamus. Hermione noted that his account was more than three times as long as Harry's even after leaving out all of the sensitive details.

Ginny stood directly under her older brother, a starry expression plastered to her face as she listened enthralled to the story of Harry's nerve and cleverness in escaping the Death Eaters.

"And then," cried Ron, throwing his arms wide open. "Harry thought he was getting away but old Malfoy got hold of his broomstick - "

"He performed a summoning charm, Ron," Hermione could not stop herself from adding.

"Right," said Ron as if there had been no contradiction with his own account, "and Harry tried to keep hold but - "

Whatever it was Harry had tried to do next was lost in the hollow echo of a loud knock on the door of the Gryffindor common room. Ron stopped in surprise and everyone turned to look at the door.

Ginny watched as Katie Bell, who was presently the Gryffindor prefect, shifted her way through the crowd in front of Ron and went to the door. Ginny immediately felt her face flush red and her pulse start to quicken. Who else could be arriving at Gryffindor Tower at this hour of the night, not knowing the password?

Katie opened the door. "Who is it?" she asked. "Oh." She exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you here, sir."

Much to everyone's astonishment, Dumbledore walked into the common room.

"Pardon me for interrupting anything," he said politely. "I'm afraid I did not know the password and it seemed rude to magic the door open. I believe you are missing one of your fellow students."

Dumbledore smiled and stepped to one side.

Harry entered the common room behind him and couldn't resist breaking out into a grin.

The common room was silent for a moment as everyone stared at Harry, almost unable to leave he was really there. Then Seamus started to clap and in the briefest of instants the common room resounded with applause and loud hooting. Ginny watched as her fellow Gryffindors rushed forward to mob Harry. The Gryffindor Quidditch team (having already planned in advance) picked their captain up from the ground and tried to hurl him into the air. Surrounded by the warmth of his friends and teammates, Harry felt his nervousness disappear almost immediately.

Ginny hung a little back from the mob, undecided as to whether she should join in. Harry hadn't noticed her yet, of course. She started to step forward and immediately felt a nervous tingling sensation penetrate through her whole body. Seeing Harry again in person, she could feel her nightmares and fantasies collide in a thunderstorm of contradictions. She forced herself to calm down: it's not as if you don't know him, she told herself. He's your brother's best friend; he's stayed at your house. He rescued you from the chamber. Buoyed by the fleeting victory of her determination, Ginny moved forward to just stand just behind the melee of Quidditch players.

Ginny watched as Harry hugged Katie and had his back slapped roughly by Dean. Then he turned around and saw her.

Ginny was almost certain it was her imagination but it seemed that for the briefest of brief moments Harry stopped what he was doing and just looked at her. Then he smiled and said:

"Ginny!"

Before she knew what was happening, Harry had reached over and pulled her into a euphoric embrace.

Ginny let out a small gasp as she was flung into Harry's arms. In the three years since he had carried her out of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had not touched her once, though Ginny was sure he did not know this. She closed her eyes and grabbed him tightly. The touch of his cheek against hers warmed her whole body like the heat of an open flame. A mixture of grass, wood, and perspiration from Harry's torn sweater and unruly hair filled Ginny's nostrils like a pungent spirit. It was all she could do to prevent herself from pouring all of her wishes, her anxieties, and her love into the embrace. With a twinge of angst, she felt Harry pulling away. She looked up into his green eyes. At first, Harry still wore the large grin he had sported since returning to Gryffindor Tower but as he looked back at her, his smile faded slightly. Ginny could tell that her face was on fire and her breathing shallow. She knew that Harry had noticed. He had seen that for Ginny a hug had not been just a hug. She finally let go of him completely and fell down on a nearby chair like a mannequin dropped by her puppeteer.

Ginny dimly became aware that Harry had now moved on to share the embrace of other Gryffindors, his momentary discomfort quickly subsiding. She felt the sound of the cheering around her fade into a blur. All eyes were focused on Harry. Ginny alone looked back to the door and stopped short in surprise as she noticed Dumbledore still standing there looking directly at her, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of wonder, fear, and pain. And then, noticed by no one but her, he quietly stepped back out of the doorway and vanished.

***

Well after their supposed bedtime, the party in Gryffindor Tower was just getting started. After five years of failure (not to mention one last explosion earlier that evening), Seamus finally succeeded in transfiguring the Gryffindor water pitcher into a keg of Butterbeer. Ron continued to take the lead in telling Harry's exploits against the Death Eaters and Harry did not bother to correct his increasing embellishments. Harry was free to talk about the European Quidditch cup with Dean and Katie, interrupted only when Colin Creevey ran up enthusiastically, having apparently spent the last hour developing a moving wizard picture he had taken of Harry (in Dudley's likeness) waving his fist triumphantly while riding up to Gryffindor Tower on Fawkes. Finally, well past midnight, Professor McGonagall entered the tower and made it clear that Harry or no Harry, all students were expected to start classes the next morning - and be awake enough to understand what they were being taught.

As soon as she had left, Katie took on the grudging responsibility of politely shepherding the residents of Gryffindor Tower up to their dormitories. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stayed behind on the pretense of clearing up. Everyone agreed rather easily and Harry doubted that his fellow Gryffindors really believed that he, Hermione, and Ron had clearing up in mind; they were by now used to the mysterious late night meetings the trio had held in the common room for the past five years.

Seamus was the last to leave for the dormitories, drowsily closing the six-year boy's room door behind him with a loud belch. Suddenly wide-awake, Harry immediately turned to Ron and Hermione and told them about his conversation with Dumbledore.

"Blimey," said Ron. "Who's he going to pick as headmaster then?"

Harry shrugged. "He wouldn't say, only that the person had already been chosen."

"You don't think," said Hermione to Ron, "that that was what Malfoy was going on about. About things being different around here this year."

"Malfoy?" asked Harry.

Ron and Hermione told Harry about their encounter with Malfoy in the corridor.

Harry hit his fist into his palm. "Malfoy. I should have known."

"You should tell Dumbledore," said Ron. "You could get him expelled!"

"With his father as one of the governors of the school?" asked Hermione incredulously.

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron. We'll just have to keep an eye on him ourselves."

"Harry," said Hermione in disbelief. "I thought you told us Dumbledore said we're not to get involved this year. It's just too dangerous. After all the things that have happened to you the past couple of days, you're still thinking of taking matters into your own hands?"

"You don't think Dumbledore really meant that, do you?" asked Ron, a smile breaking over his freckled face.

"He might have done," admitted Harry, "but then he's not here anymore, is he?" He returned Ron's smile.

Hermione looked from Harry to Ron in exasperation.

"Come on, Hermione," said Ron, pouring the dredges of the pitcher of Butterbeer into three plastic cups, two of which he gave out to Harry and Hermione. "They can mourn our passing in a couple of years but for now they'll have to put up with us." He held his cup up. "Cheers."

Hermione held her frown for a moment but finally could not resist breaking into a reluctant smile. The trio clinked their paper cups together and downed the Butterbeers in one gulp.

***

In a darkened clearing of the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort surveyed the four Death Eaters who had returned from the forest chase. Two of them - Marcus Flint included - were covered almost completely in body casts, treated quickly by the shadowy doctors the Death Eaters had managed to pay off. Three were still missing. Only one of the four remaining Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy, appeared mostly unscathed, apart from the numerous small cuts around his face. At that moment, however, Draco Malfoy would have scarcely recognized his father. His normally arrogant, imposing demeanor had completely vanished. The dangerous glint in his eyes that inspired fear in his subordinates and respect from his son was replaced by an expression of powerless fear.

"A - And so," finished Malfoy, not quite looking Voldemort directly in the eye. "I - I thought that we had gotten rid of Potter at last, but I have now heard from my son that he survived the encounter. At the last instant, he was snatched up by Dumbledore's bird and flown to the castle." Malfoy stepped backwards nervously from where had been standing directly in front of Voldemort to re-take his position in the circle of Death Eaters.

Voldemort did not react immediately. There was a long sickening pause and a thick silence seemed to hang forever in the air. Even the animals in the forest seemed to keep an eerie quiet.

"And there is nothing else you wish to tell me?" Voldemort finally asked quietly.

"N - no, my Lord."

Voldemort was silent for a moment again and then his face broke into an unexpected smile. "It was quite clever of you, really, Lucius, to think of using a summoning charm. I must admit that your strategy would not have occurred to me. A pity," he went on, the smile remaining unnervingly fixed to his face, "that it couldn't have occurred to you just a little sooner. Potter would have likely died had he been forced to fall over the forest."

Voldemort stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, lost in thought. Malfoy could feel the pulse of his racing heart throbbing in his ears. Then with an almost graceful nonchalance, Voldemort flicked out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy, saying in a stage whisper:

"Crucio."

A burst of green light shot out from the end of Voldemort's wand and struck Malfoy in the chest. He fell back and let out a piercing scream which echoed horribly throughout the forest. He twisted and turned in the ground, his body roasting in a thousand small fires which seemed to have lit from his insides.

"You see," said Voldemort softly to the other Death Eaters. "It is really very simple. I always spare those who tell me the truth, however unpleasant." He looked to the ground where Malfoy was still writhing in agony and spoke to him as if he was capable of Voldemort's full attention. "There was one detail you omitted, Lucius, and it is fortunate that Lord Voldemort does not rely on one source of information alone. You needn't worry as I have already decided to forgive you. Your son, as useful as his information was to us in finding young Harry, was not able, in his enthusiasm, to resist sending the Dark Mark into the sky before the attack had begun, neatly alerting Potter and his friend of their dangerous predicament. No, I'm afraid that young Draco is not yet ready to join our little group."

"Nevertheless," Voldemort continued. "He is still inside the school and as I understand it, his contact remains undiscovered. He may be of use to us. We will, of course," and here Voldemort smiled very broadly, "have many spies at Hogwarts this year, some knowingly and others only in the dark hidden corners of their minds. I think we have relied too much on noisy, costly adventures in the past couple of days. I will take full control of things now."

In actual fact, all of the plans the Death Eaters had sprung to this point had originated with Voldemort. But placing the blame for failure on others was an old trick that usually worked with a slight shift in semantics and a small measure of fear on the part of one's followers.

"Our new plan will be slow and subtle," Voldemort went on. "I must admit I have been very much looking forward to it. And if everyone plays their parts correctly, there is no reason it should not succeed. But tell me," he said to the remaining Death Eaters, "what of this other that was with Potter."

Flint tried to step forward but then thought better of it. Instead he said:

"We think he might have been killed. He went down hard out of the sky on the Hippogriff."

"But it is possible he was has survived?"

"Yes."

"And have you any idea who this was?"

Flint hesitated for a moment. "We think it might be Sirius Black, the escaped convict."

Voldemort laughed. "Wormtail will be pleased. Very well, Flint, see to it that the forest is searched carefully but do not spare too many resources. Black may have some information but now that the boy has returned to Hogwarts it is likely to be of little use. Lucius," he said, raising his voice for the first time. "Get up. I still have use of you. It is time to put our silent siege of Hogwarts into action."

***

Ron was completely exhausted. It was all he could manage to drag himself into his four-poster bed and pull over the covers. What with the lumbering motion of the train, the emotional shock of Harry's death - and resurrection - and Malfoy's choice blow to his stomach, not to mention a generous helping of Butterbeer, every ounce of energy had been utterly drained out of him. He could only begin to wonder how he could possibly face the cruel reality of a full day of classes the next day.

He imagined that as soon as he laid his head down on his feather pillow he would fall instantly in a dreamless sleep. But it is an unfortunate truth that when one's mind has slowly begun to relax from a long day of overuse, a few important questions, forgotten in the urgency of the moment, resurface to one's attention.

At the moment, there was one such question that vexed Ron and kept him tossing in his bed for several hours to come.

When the two of them were alone in Dumbledore's office, what was it that Hermione had wanted to tell him?