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 Dean grabbed her shoulder and pointed her 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.

It was Harry's glasses that Ginny noticed first, the thin black frames reflecting the light of their outstretched wand lights. Then came the dome of jet black hair, the bangs blowing in the wind to reveal Harry's unmistakable lightning bolt scar. However strange the tale was this time, there could be no doubt that this was Harry Potter.

A loud 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.

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 and their faces devoid of all color. Harry was grinning widely and started to move toward Ron and Hermione but his two friends remained rooted to the spot, their mouths wide open. They stood this way for several seconds 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."

Hermione looked Harry up and down. His face was cut and bleeding and his right trouser leg was completely torn off; he sported a large gash on his ankle.

"What happened to you?" she asked, astonished.

Harry's smile faded and his face clouded over suddenly.

"My aunt, uncle, and cousin. Professor Lupin," he said. "I don't know - "

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.

"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.

But Hermione couldn't fail to notice that Harry still did not smile.

Dumbledore took a large bite of an apple tart and chewed it carefully as if he had all the time in the world. Hermione found herself looking at him rather expectantly and looked around to see that Ron, Harry, and McGonagall were all doing the same.

"And now, Harry," he finally said. "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 again and the Potions master Severus Snape glided in. He briefly took in McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the trio of friends. If he was surprised to see Harry still alive, he did not show it.

"Headmaster," he said stoically. "I believe this gentleman has some news for the Order."

Hermione stiffened as she noticed for the first time that Snape was not alone. Walking in behind him, almost having managed to escape all notice, was a very strange figure indeed. Hermione was sure that it must be an ogre or a hag. She was sure that if Snape had not said so, it would have been difficult to tell right away whether it was even male or female. He was very short, at least a head shorter than Hermione. Hunched over on a walking stick, with long hair as white as Dumbledore's own, the figure was clad only in a tattered blue cloth that stretched from the top of his head down to his calloused blackened ankles and bare feet.

At a certain noise to her right, Hermione quickly looked back to her companions at the table. Dumbledore and McGonagall had risen to their feet, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. It was obvious to Hermione that they recognized the figure, but how they would come to know someone like this she couldn't imagine. Was he some sort of spy? Hermione looked back at Ron and Harry to see that they seemed just as bewildered as her.

But if any of the three friends thought that what had seen to this point was unusual, the exchange that followed next was truly bizarre.

Hermione's attention was turned back to Dumbledore as it became clear that he was speaking again, a very strange look in his eyes.

"Well, perhaps we should hear it directly from his own mouth."

Hermione looked expectantly at the crooked figure, wondering what he could possibly say that would be of interest to them.

The ogre-like being opened his mouth revealing a sparse collection of horribly blackened teeth. Hermione winced as a wave of rancid breath blew out.

"Gladly, Professor," it croaked, in a high, raspy voice that reminded Hermione of a rusty door being moved on its hinges. "Put perhaps you would be so kind as to put me out of my misery first. After all, your wand skills are a little better than mine."

Dumbledore's twinkle seemed to brighten.

"You flatter me as always," Dumbledore replied. "But I would be happy to oblige."

He reached into his pocket and slowly took out his wand.

Hermione was not at all sure what Dumbledore could do to put this thing out of its misery or why he might be so inclined. She found herself half-expecting Dumbledore to administer a killing curse.

She watched as Dumbledore aimed his wand carefully at the hag and said:

"Aparecium Restorem."

"Thank you, headmaster," said the soft, measured tones of Remus Lupin. "I think this will make things considerably easier."

Before Hermione could remember to take her next speechless breath, Harry had stood up and was walking over to Lupin. They stood facing each other saying nothing for the moment, much as Harry had done when first reuniting with Hermione and Ron. Then Lupin stepped forward and clasped Harry into an embrace which was returned with equal enthusiasm and after a few seconds, it became clear that Harry was the more reluctant to let go. When he did, Hermione could see that, despite his best attempts to conceal it, his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

Partly out of curiosity and partly to draw everyone's attention away from Harry, Hermione turned to Dumbledore and said:

"I didn't know you could do that."

"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.

"But what was it?" asked Ron. "Polyjuice Potion?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

It was Snape who replied, sounding somewhat reluctant to be talking.

"The potion has been recently developed," he continued laconically. "It is, at present, known only to members of the Order. It acts much faster than ordinary Polyjuice Potion, lasts longer, and its effects can be removed instantaneously with the casting of the counter-curse you just witnessed. Each of the members of the Order has a unique disguise which is recognized only to the other members, although, in theory, as with the original Polyjuice potion, anyone can change into the form of the wizard and witch of his choosing, provided he adds something of their bodies to the mixture."

"Severus is too modest to mention that the potion was developed by him," added Lupin.

Hermione could not detect any sarcasm in Lupin's statement but Snape suddenly stared over at him with a look of hatred, as if Lupin had just delivered an unforgivable insult.

There was another somewhat awkward moment of silence before Dumbledore cleared his throat, then turned back to Snape and said:

"Thank you, Severus, Minerva. It appears that Harry and Remus have both managed to find their 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."

If Snape and McGonagall were offended at being left out of the ensuing conversation, they did not show it. McGonagall gave a curt nod to Dumbledore and flashed a brief wink at Harry that only he noticed. Snape merely 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 and Lupin's survival.

"Well," said Dumbledore, looking around brightly after the door had closed behind them. "If you'd both like to sit down and have some refreshment, perhaps you can begin to share your remarkable stories."

But Harry did not look very much like he wanted to sit down.

"How?" he suddenly demanded of Lupin, almost as if it was his fault for being alive. "How did you escape? The house burned down - there was no - my aunt and uncle - how did you just change like that - what did - "

Lupin held up his hand.

"Steady on, Harry," he said calmly.

"Hang on," said Ron. "What burning house? I'd like to hear the story from the beginning!"

Hermione shot Ron a deeply reproving look.

"I think perhaps for Harry's sake, I'd better begin with my own tale, Ron," replied Lupin.

"Wait, before we start," said Hermione, earning nasty looks from Harry and Ron and an expression of patient interest from Dumbledore.

Hermione took out her wand and pointed it at Lupin.

"You look a right mess, professor," she declared. "You can't go on talking like that. Scourgify."

Harry noticed for the first time that what Hermione had said was indeed true. While Lupin did not seem quite as cut and bruised as Harry had, he looked scarcely less scruffy than the figure that had first entered the office. His hair was mangled, his robes more torn even more than usual, but most noticeably, he appeared to be covered from head to toe in soot.

Which completely cleared away once Hermione's charm had finished its work.

"Excellent spell work as usual, Hermione," said Lupin pleasantly. "It reminds me of how much I miss having you as my student."

"Can't you come back and teach us?" asked Ron hopefully.

"I'm afraid not."

Lupin lowered his eyes and for a moment it seemed to Harry that a light had gone out inside. Then their former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher raised his head again and said:

"Now perhaps I should begin at the beginning."

Lupin sat down, adjusted his robes somewhat carelessly, and started to talk.

"Your aunt, uncle, and cousin are safe, Harry," were the first words out of his mouth.

Harry exhaled a breath he hadn't been sure he was holding. As much he loathed the Dursleys and strongly believed that they deserved almost any misfortune that might come to them, he wasn't sure they deserved to die and was even much more certain that he didn't want their deaths on his conscience.

Lupin took a sip of pumpkin juice and continued with his story.

"Dedalus Diggle relieved me last night. I had volunteered to take the last shift to make sure Harry was safe until the Ministry came to fetch him." Lupin sighed suddenly. "Call it a premonition if you like. And Dedalus can be rather..."

Lupin broke off and looked at Dumbledore cautiously who nodded.

"...excitable," Remus finished. "I thought it best if I stayed and it was fortunate that I did. It was still early in the evening when the Death Eaters came. There were about a dozen of them. I knew Voldemort could check for invisibility cloaks so I quickly made use of a disillusionment charm and placed a vaporization hex on the cloak. I was surprised to see them there but I also didn't want to wait to find out whether they could really break the old magic. By the time they had started to scan the area for signs of invisibility cloaks, there was little doubt left in my mind. I waited only to make sure I was still undetected and then apparated into the house. I had the emergency portkey I had planned ready with me. Harry realized the urgency of the situation, of course, but persuading his aunt and uncle proved a much more difficult matter. It was while I was attempting to reason with them that I could start to feel the heat of the Death Eater's fire on the house. They themselves and their spells would have been invisible to the Muggles watching outside, of course; all they would have seen was what appeared to be an imploding house but I knew that if the Dursleys tried to escape they would just be incinerated nonetheless."

"He must have found a way to use a Abrectus charm," mused Dumbledore.

Lupin nodded. "I thought so as well."

"Sorry?" said Ron, a little irritably.

Dumbledore smiled at Ron engagingly.

"A form of indirect magic," he explained. "Voldemort could break the old magic protecting Harry at his relatives only if the Death Eaters attacked the house in which Harry was standing. That was why they couldn't apparate in and attack him directly or I've little doubt we wouldn't be having this conversation now. Of course, it probably also meant that Voldemort himself could not participate directly in the siege. Please continue, Remus."

"It wasn't long before the house started to fill with smoke. I kept trying to reason with the Dursleys but time was running out. Finally, Harry lost consciousness and I knew that I couldn't wait any longer. I clutched the portkey into his hand and activated it."

"Why didn't you go with me?" Harry demanded.

Remus turned to look at him with a determined, almost defiant look in his grey eyes.

"It was duty to make sure that everyone in the house left alive, Harry."

Harry felt a renewed disgust and anger spring up inside him at the Dursleys. They had nearly gotten both him and Lupin killed.

"But whatever did you do?" asked Hermione. "You were trapped without your only means of escape!"

Lupin looked at Hermione and smiled an ever so slightly self-confident smile.

"Not quite, Hermione," he replied. He became serious again. "After Harry was safely away, the Dursleys began to cower under their kitchen table. I realized that I wouldn't be able to persuade them any longer and I was also starting to succumb to the smoke. I quickly cast a Figurus charm over the house." Lupin looked quickly over at Ron, Harry, and Hermione. "A kind of three-dimensional photograph with a spell that would confuse anyone entering the house into thinking they were seeing the real thing."

"Over the whole house?" asked Dumbledore. "Impressive."

"I left the flames out of the image, of course, so that they would appear to have incinerated the Dursleys under the table. I also added a false Harry to the image so that it would appear he had been burned as well."

Harry shook his head in confusion.

"Think of putting a picture next to a Muggle movie, Harry. The flames are the movie and the picture is, in this case, a still picture. The flames will continue to move and spread until they burn what is in the picture. But it's a picture; it's not really real except to the eyes of anyone walking in the house. Do you see?"

"I think so," replied Harry, still frowning. "But then what happened to the real Dursleys?"

"As I said," Lupin continued. "I could see that the time for persuasion had ended. When the Order was planning possible escape routes from your aunt and uncle's house in case of an attack over the summer holidays, Harry, Molly and Arthur mentioned that they had once connected your house to the floo network so that they could bring you to the Burrow. It wasn't difficult to connect it again."

"With a link to Order headquarters," added Dumbledore, frowning. "And we all waited for you there in case you and Harry would turn up, but when you didn't, we could only conclude the worst."

Lupin nodded. "I'm afraid that by the time I activated the link in the fireplace, the fire outside had made it unstable."

"Hang on," said Harry. "The Dursleys had the wall in front of the fireplace doubly reinforced after the last time the Weasleys came in to get me. How did you get to it?"

"Oh," said Lupin, as if surprised to have been asked the question. "That part was easy: I blew it up."

Ron grinned.

"Getting the fireplace to work to the floo network was much more difficult, however. I asked the Dursleys one more time, very politely, to come with me but it seemed that even after the unmistakable danger in which they found themselves, they still couldn't bring themselves to do it. So I put them into body binds - apologizing first, of course - used some floo powder, called for Number 12 Grimmaud Place, and levitated them into the fire one by one."

For the first time since his ordeal had begun the previous day, Harry managed to smile at the mental image of a bound up Dudley floating into his blown up fireplace.

"I managed to jump in after them just as the walls were coming crashing down behind me. The connection was so unstable at first that I thought we'd never make it away from the burning house but then we finally came out to a different fireplace somewhere although I could tell right away that it was not Grimmaud Place. It was some sort of abandoned mansion, belonging to one of the old Death Eaters by the looks of things. Fortunately, it seemed to be unoccupied apart from a few old house elves. The Dursleys had managed to lose consciousness on the trip. I used some of the house elves to get us some food and drink and to get them revived and then I spent the rest of the time trying to figure out where we were and how to get back through the floo network.

"Once I'd persuaded the house elves to tell us where we had landed, I apparated back to Privet Drive. The house was in ruins, of course, and the Figurus charm had since worn off but since the Muggle police had already thought they had taken away the bodies, it didn't look much different, of course. I waited until cover of night and then performed a counter-curse on the house to restore it back to its original form."

"What!" said Ron incredulously. "Just like that?"

"Well it did take several hours," said Lupin, a little apologetically. "Anyway, once the house was back to normal, I made the rounds of the neighbors, posing as a door-to-door salesman. They were all a bit suspicious but they managed to open their doors enough to receive a small memory charm. I then reconnected the house to the floo network, and traveled back to the old mansion where your relatives were waiting, Harry."

Lupin raised his eyebrows slightly which was enough to tell Harry that he had left out several details about the Dursleys' reaction to his return.

"I sent them back through the floo network to your house. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the Death Eaters found out that their plan had failed and they would come looking for you, Harry, but I'm afraid I never dreamed they would be able to find you so easily. I changed my appearance so as not to arouse suspicion and then apparated to the portkey location but you had gone. Fearing the worst, I came back to Hogsmeade and ran back into the castle. I suspected to find everyone at the feast but the castle seemed empty. I finally ran into Severus and he brought me up here. But how you came to find yourself here, Harry, I can only imagine."

Harry found that all eyes in the room were turning expectantly to him.

And so Harry told them. About his scar hurting, about the Dursleys' reaction as Lupin had apparated into the house, how he had lost consciousness and found himself in the mountains, and then how the Death Eaters had found him and finally the chase on the broomsticks (here Hermione kept gasping while Ron cried "wicked!").

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

Harry nodded somberly.

"Then they did escape from Azkaban," said Lupin.

Dumbledore nodded again, looking the weariest he had since Harry had first returned.

"But how can it be that the Ministry really doesn't know?" asked Lupin again.

"I expect they do, Remus. I expect they do. I'm afraid we must face the fact that the Ministry has not been as forthcoming to both the Order and the public in general as they have pretended to be."

"Reckon ol' Fudge is still trying to cover things up, then?" asked Ron.

Hermione glared at him but Dumbledore simply nodded.

"I thought things seemed too quiet," said Harry.

"Fudge looks bad, of course," said Lupin quietly. "And admitting to another jailbreak would make him look worse."

Dumbledore put his fingers together thoughtfully. "I'm afraid this leaves the Order with little choice but to continue to make our plans independently for the time being."

"What about Harry?" asked Lupin. "If Voldemort found his way to Privet Drive - "

"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 tread carefully."

Dumbledore looked across at Lupin again.

"Remus, I'd like you to contact the Order and arrange to have a continuing watch put on Harry's home. The Dursleys, do they know?"

"Oh," said Lupin in reply. "No, after I returned them to the house, I put a memory charm on them as well."

Harry breathed another sigh of relief. He was certain he did not want to have to deal with the Dursleys' stories of being floated through fireplaces and fed by curious house elves.

"Just as well," replied Dumbledore, as if echoing Harry's thoughts. He then sighed as if reaching a decision and fished into the pocket of his robes to produce a long envelope, which he then handed to Lupin. "If you wouldn't mind delivering this to Severus. It is charmed to open on his command. I will be in touch with you myself soon."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged puzzled glances.

Lupin received the envelope with a small nod, then stood up and turned to address Harry.

"I managed to bring your trunk along, too, Harry. I left it with the house elves to take up to your room."

Harry stood up also.

"When will I see you again, sir?" he asked in a slightly vulnerable tone.

Remus looked back a little furtively at Dumbledore before replying:

"Soon, I hope, Harry. Soon."

And with that, Lupin turned around and left the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

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

Ron and Hermione nodded and turned to leave.

"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. Now that they were alone together, Harry found it somewhat difficult to look the headmaster in the eye. The last time Harry had sat in this office only hours after Sirius had died, he had vented his frustration and despair on many of Dumbledore's fragile possessions. Looking quickly over to Dumbledore's desk, it seemed to Harry that many of them had been magically restored to their original order but Harry could not easily forget what had happened and, judging by the wary looks in the eyes of the former headmasters on the paintings surrounding the walls, he wasn't the only one. A deep sense of shame rose in Harry once more as he now realized that his outburst at Dumbledore had been his last desperate attempt to pin the blame for Sirius' death somewhere other than where it belonged: on his own shoulders.

If Dumbledore was contemplating any of these things, however, he did not show it: he quietly munched on a remaining square of apple tart and then finally turned to Harry and said:

"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 certainly never have left you there. I also did not believe he would strike so boldly and 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 were hiding in the forest. The location of the portkey's endpoint should have been known only to members of the Order."

"Do you think there could be someone in the Order 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 up 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. Moreover, 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 generally 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. You weren't in the prefect carriage either."

"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 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," he warned. "The Dark Lord has already attacked Potter's little Muggle house. It won't be long before he makes it here and Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers will be the first to go."

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.

"Did you hear that?" he asked. "He all but admitted to us he's a Death Eater! He knew about their plan to attack Harry! Don't you think we ought to go back and warn Dumbledore?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"We'd better tell Harry first."

***

"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 who's keeping the school together!"

Dumbledore smiled softly and gently rested his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I know this isn't easy for you, Harry, but you must trust me," 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's house. 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, carefully choosing his words. "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 the other members of the Order."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, surprised at the conviction in his voice.

"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 took your parents and your godfather."

Harry swallowed and nodded.

"I know you will be busy with your classes this term as well as Quidditch practice and I wouldn't want to take that away from you 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."

Much of the latter part of what Dumbledore had just said had fallen on deaf ears, however, as Harry found himself consumed with the headmaster's first sentence.

"D - did you say Quidditch practice, sir?" Harry asked. "B - but I thought - "

Dumbledore gave Harry a half-smile and looked down at him through his glasses.

"Harry, let me make it very clear to you that what you did last year to Mr. Malfoy on the Quidditch pitch was inexcusable and should there be any such further incident, I'm afraid I may have to concur with Dolores Umbridge's judgment. However," Dumbledore paused. "It is my hope that the suspension from the team that you incurred this past year has taught you an adequate lesson. You are free once again to take part in Quidditch, that is, if the team will have you. As a matter of fact, I believe that Professor McGonagall and Madame Hooch would like a word with you about your Quidditch duties as soon as possible."

Dumbledore smiled as Harry looked back at him with the amazement of a child. Did Dumbledore mean what Harry thought he did?

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore. "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. "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, thinking of his resolutions of the summer. "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 looked 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 won't be 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 and ask several of the house elves to gather some of my belongings. I will be making a journey."

"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. She had then come to work with Winky at Hogwarts but Harry hadn't seen her since his fourth year. He had occasionally 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 out 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 several months. 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 into 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 from it 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 straight into a wall before it opened up at the last minute and swallowed her.

"Shall we go now, 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 last made my way 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 and found that her earlier anger at his privileged position had disappeared and she completely engrossed in the tale.

"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 wall next to the portrait hole right outside of the Gryffindor common room. Ron stopped in surprise and everyone turned to look at the door. Ron didn't seem to feel like moving so Hermione shifted her way through the crowd in front of him and went to the door. It swung open as she approached.

"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. She moved ahead to join them but then she looked at Harry properly and something made her stop.

A nervous tingling sensation started to penetrate through her whole body. She realized that this was the first time she had seen Harry in person since she had been haunted by her vivid, lucid nightmares that summer, the nightmares in which Ginny had watched Harry die a hundred times over in the Chamber of Secrets, the nightmares in which Ginny had still been passionately in love with the Boy Who Lived. It suddenly seemed to Ginny as if all of the other Gryffindors who were rushing up to greet Harry were merely phantoms and he alone was real.

Ginny shook her head forcefully as if doing so could clear these illusions from her mind. She was sure she was blushing and felt suddenly nervous that Dean might be looking in her direction but he seemed focused on Harry as well. Then she dug the nails of her forefingers into her palms and took a deep breath. It was her nightmares that were speaking to her and Ginny was sure she did not want to listen to nightmares.

Buoyed by this thought, she stepped closer to Harry until finally she was standing right in front of him. She watched as Harry was hugged by Katie Bell and had his back slapped roughly by Seamus. 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. While Ginny could see that Harry's happiness was genuine, there was still a dark haunted look in the back of his eyes. He suddenly smiled a strangely shy smile that Ginny did not remember.

"Ginny," he said finally. "Th - thanks for your letters."

"It's OK, Harry," she replied, shocked to find out that the voice of her eleven-year-old self seemed to be coming out of her mouth. "It's good to have you back."

Before she knew what was happening, her arms had reached out at the same time as Harry's and with a small involuntary gasp she felt herself falling into his embrace. Ginny had just watched Harry hug a half a dozen girls and she tried to tell herself it should be no different for her but this thought was gone in almost an instant. As soon as Harry's arms had clutched hold of her back, Ginny knew that in the three years since he had carried her out of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had not touched her once. She closed her eyes and grabbed him back 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. As Harry started to pull away, Ginny 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 replaced by a look of surprise. 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 for it hadn't, had it? She found herself certain that Harry was about to say something when she felt Dean push in front of her and start to shake Harry's hand.

Ginny collapsed into a nearby chair like a mannequin dropped by its puppeteer. Let go of it, she tried to tell herself. It's just your mind playing tricks on you; you're over him now.

But Ginny found she couldn't let go so easily. She was for breath as if she'd just run a race. She looked up anxiously to see if anyone had noticed her reaction but was relieved to see that all eyes were focused on Harry.

But then one pair of eyes wasn't.

Ginny 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 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, Ron and Hermione took on the grudging responsibility of politely shepherding the residents of Gryffindor Tower up to their dormitories. Harry stayed behind on the pretense of clearing up. 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."

"We've got loads to tell you, too, mate," said Ron.

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!"

Harry winced. "I would but he's gone."

"We'll just have to keep an eye on him ourselves," said Hermione.

Ron looked at Hermione in surprise.

"You've changed your tune lately."

"Well," said Hermione with a little hesitation. "I mean we don't have much of a choice, do we?"

Ron smiled.

"Fancy that, mate," he said to Harry. "Hermione finally - "

But Ron's smile faded as soon as he saw the stern look on Harry's face.

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?" he asked Ron angrily. "Dumbledore said we're not to get involved this year. It's just too dangerous!"

"You don't think Dumbledore really meant that, do you?" Ron smiled again.

"He might have done," replied Hermione, looking oddly mischievous, "but then he's not here anymore, is he?"

Harry still did not smile.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron, pouring the dredges of the pitcher of Butterbeer into three paper 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 touched her cup to Ron's and both of them moved to toast Harry when he suddenly crushed his angrily sending the contents splashing all over his wrist and onto the floor.

Ron and Hermione stepped back, identical expressions of hurt surprise on their faces.

"YOU TWO STILL DON'T BLOODY WELL UNDERSTAND, DO YOU?" Harry shouted suddenly. "DUMBLEDORE SAID WE'RE NOT TO INTERFERE AND THIS YEAR I'M GOING TO LISTEN TO DUMBLEDORE!"

Ron held up his hands as if to defend himself. "Steady on, mate," he said.

"Keep your voice down, Harry!" said Hermione.

"I DON'T WANT TO KEEP MY VOICE DOWN!" yelled Harry. "IT'S JUST A GAME TO BOTH OF YOU, ISN'T IT? LET'S SOLVE ANOTHER MYSTERY, THEN GO TEARING OFF TO THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES AND GET SOMEONE ELSE KILLED! IT DOESN'T MATTER; IT'S NOT US."

"You weren't the only one who felt it when Sirius died, you know!" retorted Ron, suddenly angry.

"If you think this is just a game to us, you're wrong, Harry," asserted Hermione. "We're trying to protect you!"

"Oh yeah?" said Harry, his now hoarse voice only slightly less loud than before. "Well I think I should have the last say on whether I need protecting. And I think I'm going to leave that up to the Order this time, then maybe everyone will make it back in one piece this year!"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione for a moment, their faces looking every bit as crushed as the cup he had smashed in his hand. Even as he still felt anger pounding through his body, Harry could not help but start to regret his outburst but he did not feel much like apologizing either.

"I'm going to bed," he announced bluntly and as Ron and Hermione stood there dumbly watching him go, Harry turned on his heel and made his way up the staircase to bed. Without waiting to hear whether Ron had come back in the room, he quickly took his clothes off and got into bed. He pulled his hangings down around him and quietly cast a silencing charm on all four sides of his bed. Then he took his glasses off and laid his head down on his pillow, listening to the sound of his still quickened pulse in the vein on his neck.

As he closed his eyes, Harry realized that he had spent the whole summer ashamed of how his outbursts had made his two best friends feel and then, when against all odds they had been reunited, he had just gone and done it again. Harry started to sob and found in spite of his tiring ordeal, on this night, sleep would not come very easily.

***

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."

Malfoy 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 began, neatly alerting Potter of his dangerous predicament. No, I'm afraid that young Draco is not yet ready to fully 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 knowing 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 at all why it should not succeed."