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The Refiner's Fire
By Abraxan

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General
Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 618
Summary: In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based with some OC. HG, RHr, RT.
Hitcount: Story Total: 380739; Chapter Total: 15961







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DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and to my beta-readers Blakevich, Starfox and Pilar!

You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic at:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRef inersFire



Chapter 17 - Christmas Shopping in Hogsmeade



“Ron?” Harry said one evening as they were getting ready for bed.

“Yeah?”

“I need to talk to you about D.A. I’ve had an idea.”

“’K,” Ron replied, turning to sit on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Well. . .” Harry began, trying to organize his thoughts logically, “Casey and I went to a film this summer that was about war. They had strategies and generals and stuff. The generals stayed in a command area and kept track of the troop movement, sending reinforcements to places where they were needed, making troops move back when they’d taken enough ground in other areas.”

“What’s that got to do with D.A.?” Ron asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“They said in the film that battle strategy was like a chess game. That interested me, and I read some books about battle plans. I thought you’d be a good general for D.A.”

“Huh?” Ron said, a truly bewildered look on his face.

“You’re a chess master!” Harry insisted. “You’re brilliant at strategy, planning moves several steps ahead, that kind of thing. I’m not. We both know you’re a far better chess player than I am, and that I don’t plan things well. So I thought you could be the general, and Hermione, who we both know is great at planning things, could be your assistant. Then the two of you could supervise where the D.A. members go, how they strike, where they pull back, that kind of thing, so we’re more effective than if we all just go in and fight as individuals. Does that make sense to you?” Harry spread his hands and tilted his head in a hopeful way.

Ron went through various emotions and thoughts, all of which showed plainly on his always-transparent face. At first he was confused. Then he was thoughtful as he considered what Harry had said. Then a dawning awareness showed on his face. “Wait a minute!” he cried. “You’re trying to keep me and Hermione out of the fight!”

“No, I’m not!” Harry insisted. “I’m trying to make the best possible use of our resources. I’m going to ask Ginny to lead a healer squad. I’m going to divide the D.A. into squads of ten people each, with a leader for each group who answers to you. We’ll choose the healers first, from those who have some experience, hopefully, or those who want to learn.” Harry leaned forward intently, willing Ron to understand his thinking.

Ron thought a while longer. “You’re not just trying to protect us?”

“I’d like to protect everyone, especially you three, but I’m putting Ginny, in particular, in a lot of danger. In Muggle armies, the medical people have to go into the field of battle to tend the wounded, and they’re too busy working to be able to fight. Do you think I’d put Ginny in that kind of position if there was a better way to do it?”

Ron thought a while longer. “Actually, it does make good sense. An organized force instead of a group of individual fighters would have more power to control the situation, I think.”

“That sounds like a general talking,” Harry said with a laugh. “So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to the girls about this yet?”

“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you about it first. Your position is the most important.”

“What will you be doing, if I’m the general?” Ron asked suddenly.

“Fighting Voldemort,” Harry replied grimly. “That’s my job. It’s my. . .destiny.”

“What do you mean, your destiny?”

Harry sighed. He’d been avoiding telling his friends about the prophecy he’d learned last year, but it seemed to be time to tell Ron, at least. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else. I don’t want anyone worrying too much about me,” Harry said grimly.

“Not even Hermione or Ginny?” Ron asked, aghast.

“Especially not them,” Harry replied, his mouth set in a thin, firm line of determination. “I mean it. Nobody.”

Ron stared at his friend. Whatever it was, it was terribly serious or Harry wouldn’t be acting this way. “OK. I promise.”

Harry took a deep, calming breath. It didn’t seem to be doing him any good. Knowing there was no easy way to tell the story, he just plunged into it. “The prophecy we went to the Department of Mysteries to get? It was about me and Voldemort.”

“Yeah? The sign made me think that,” Ron said, nodding his head and concentrating on Harry’s every word.

“It says. . .it says I have to kill Voldemort, or he will kill me.” Harry gulped, trying to swallow the fear that leaped into his throat every time he thought of the prophecy.

”So? Everybody’s known that for ages,” Ron replied, confused.

“So? It’s PROPHESIED! I have to . . .kill him.”

“I sussed that, Harry,” Ron said, his open face earnest.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you?”

“I have to KILL somebody, Ron! Voldemort!” Harry said desperately, trying to make Ron understand how it hurt him to think about it.

“Somebody’s got to do it, and it seems you’re the only one who can, other than Dumbledore. And if Dumbledore could do it, he would have last year, wouldn’t he?” Ron said reasonably.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why he didn’t do it then, except that this prophecy says I have to do it. It’s a kill or be killed thing, you know?”

“Yeah, and he’s been trying to kill you for ages. I get that,” Ron replied.

“So it doesn’t freak you out that I have to kill somebody?” Harry was astonished.

“No. I thought it would come to that someday.”

“How can you be so calm? I have to KILL somebody!”

Ron laid a calming hand on his friend’s arm. “Harry. If anyone can kill You-Know. . oh, all right, V-v-voldemort,” he said with a shudder at the name, “it’s you. And it won’t be like killing a human being, or a nice person. He’s not human anymore. It will be like killing a bug — a big nasty one, but something that needs to be destroyed. You’re fighting for your life as it is. When you face him, you’ll be fighting for your life. Self-defence isn’t against the law. You don’t have anything to worry about except him. And he’s plenty to worry about.”

Harry’s face was still troubled, his heart in his anguished eyes. “But killing someone. . .that’s just wrong!”

“And that’s the difference between the two of you,” Ron said wisely. “He doesn’t care. He doesn’t think it’s wrong. I believe in you, Harry. You’ll defeat him when you’re ready. And until you’re ready, we’ll all just do the best we can to get through whatever he throws at us.”

Harry was quiet for a while, dumbfounded by Ron’s complete faith in him. Harry wished he had such faith in himself. When he was calm again, he went back to working out his idea. “OK. Well. . . .” He took a deep calming breath and got back on task. “While I’m dealing with Voldemort, the rest of you will have your hands full with the Death Eaters. If it’s at all possible, it would be a great help to me if the Death Eaters are kept occupied so they can’t interfere with me and Voldemort.”

Ron held out his long-fingered, big-knuckled hand. “I’ll be your general, and watch your back. I guess that leaves you the title of ‘Hero?’” he added with a grin.

“More like David,” Harry replied, shaking Ron’s hand firmly.

“David?”

“Have you ever heard the story of David and Goliath?”

“Oh, yeah, him I’ve heard of. Yeah, David. That fits. And he’s a winner!” Ron said with a grin.

“Let’s hope I can follow in his footsteps then,” Harry said quietly.


* * * * *


Lupin found a Boggart for the D.A. and brought it to the meeting in a locked crate. The D.A. members, both First and Second Years, stood around wide-eyed and nervous, waiting for the meeting to begin. Harry and Ron helped Lupin place the crate in front of the staff table.

“May I stay and watch?” Remus asked Harry.

“Of course! I was hoping you’d have time to help with this session,” Harry agreed. He turned to the gathered students. “Professor Lupin has found us a Boggart. You will need to get rid of any ideas you have about whatever is the scariest thing to you. Dementors are far scarier than anything you can think of. If they’re around you long enough, they drain you of every happy memory, every positive emotion, leaving you with nothing but depression and fear, and that’s if they haven’t sucked out your soul. You will feel very cold, and then you will feel as if you’ll never be happy again. If you’ve seen horrible things in your lifetime, as some of us have, you will relive those in vivid detail. You must be stronger than these memories and feelings. Before the Dementor comes out, you need to have the best possible happy thought ready in your mind. Hold onto that happy thought no matter what you feel when you see the Dementor, and say “Expecto Patronum” to conjure your Patronus. You Second Years know all this already, but you haven’t faced a Dementor or even a Boggart posing as a Dementor before. I trained by using a Boggart posing as a Dementor, and it made me feel exactly the way the real Dementors do. This method will work, if you let it. So right now, before we start, convince yourself that Dementors are the scariest thing ever.” He waited a few moments, watching the faces of the assembled students. “All right. I’ll go first so you can see how it works. And believe me, Dementors still call up those bad memories for me, but I can see my way past them because I know I can conjure a strong Patronus.” He took a deep breath, then turned, grim-faced, toward the box and nodded at Lupin. “Let’s do it.”

Lupin unlocked the box and a Dementor rose out of it. Screams, squeals and gasps erupted from the gathered students. The Dementor reached out to grab Harry, but Harry stood there with an indomitable look on his face and cried “Expecto Patronum!” A huge silver stag shot out of his wand and ran toward the Dementor, chasing it back toward the box, where Lupin captured it and locked it safely away. Harry was panting as if he’d just run a race by the time the Dementor was safely back in the box. He stood glaring at the box for a moment, then turned to the rest of the students.

“That’s how it’s done,” he said, his face still grim from the encounter. “I never said it would be easy. Chocolate makes you feel better after facing a Dementor, so I have a large supply of it here for you. The good news is, the more times you conquer Dementors with a Patronus, the easier it gets for you, and you may not need chocolate after a while. I’ve done without chocolate after such encounters myself with no problem, but you lot are going to be stuffed with it tonight to make sure you’re all right. OK, line up. Who wants to go first?”

There was a general shuffling of feet as everyone took a step backward, leaving Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville standing alone in front. “I see you lot have been volunteered by the rest of the group,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Who’s first?”

Hermione stepped forward, taking a deep breath as she did so. “I’ll try it.”

“Great!” Harry encouraged her. “Got your happy thought in place?” She nodded. “OK, you tell Professor Lupin when you’re ready and he’ll release the Dementor.”

Hermione nodded again, her face very serious. She took another deep breath and blew it out, then raised her wand and said, “OK” in a shaky voice. The Dementor rose from the box and loomed over her, reaching toward her with its slimy hands. “Expecto Patronum!” Hermione cried. “Expecto Pa. . .Expecto. . . ” and she fainted. While Lupin put the Dementor back in the box, Harry bent over Hermione, pushing some chocolate between her lips.

“Wake up, Hermione. It’s all right, it’s just an old Boggart,” Harry assured her.

“’ Mione?” Ron asked, kneeling swiftly at her side, aghast that he’d let her go first. “’Mione? Wake up!”

“She’ll be OK, Ron, she’s just passed out,” Harry assured Ron, hoping he was right. At that moment, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open.

“Oh! What happened? How did I get down here?” she asked.

“You fainted,” Harry replied. “Here, eat this, it will help,” he added, giving her more chocolate. He looked up at the rest of the group. “I never said this was going to be easy, mind you. But it’s important. While Hermione rests, who’s next?”

Ron stepped forward, his body tense and his face resolute. He looked from Harry to Lupin, then said “Go” as he raised his wand. He managed to get a small silver vapour out of his wand, but it dissipated quickly. Lupin stuffed the Boggart back in the box.

“Well done, Ron!” Harry cried.

“Not well done,” Ron replied. “It was only mist.”

“That’s better than my first few tries,” Harry insisted. “Do it again.”

Ron looked at Remus and nodded. “Go.” The Dementor rose and Ron cast his Patronus, but it was still just silver mist. He held onto it, shaking hard with the effort. Harry sent his Patronus to chase the Dementor back to the box and handed Ron some chocolate.

“That was great!” Harry cried sincerely. “Sit down and rest while someone else has a go. Next?”

“I’ll try,” Neville offered. He moved nervously to the spot where Hermione and Ron had each stood, shaking so hard his wand was wobbling badly. “G-g-go,” he muttered. Lupin released the Dementor, and Neville cast his Patronus. An actual shape came out of his wand and the Dementor hesitated, then blew through the silvery mist.

“Have another go, Neville! That was great!” Harry encouraged.

Neville cast his Patronus again, and again an actual shape emerged, but it didn’t last long. He was trembling so hard, he sat down hard on the floor when Harry’s Patronus chased the Dementor away.

“I told you all this is a really difficult charm,” Harry said to the group. “But look at the results we’ve already had! Ron got some mist out and Neville had a shape, almost a corporeal Patronus. That’s outstanding for a first try!” He looked at Ginny, who was looking uncertain but determined. He walked over to her and whispered in her ear, “What’s your happy thought?”

“Flying,” she murmured quickly.

“That’s not good enough. I tried to use that for my happy thought and it just didn’t work. What else have you got?”

“I don’t know, I can’t think. That thing scares me,” she said, nodding toward the box.

“It scares me too,” he assured her.

“But your Patronus is very strong,” she protested.

“Because I know I can do it. And I have a wonderful happy thought,” he added with a tender smile.

She looked up at him. “What?”

“I think about you. You’re my happy thought,” he whispered, then kissed her on the cheek. “Try to come up with something that strong, that happy.”

Ginny’s face lit up. “I can do that!” she said with a smile. Harry backed away from her and she glared determinedly at the box. “Go!” The Dementor rose up and Ginny cried “Expecto Patronum!” A silver horse flew from her wand toward the Dementor. It dissolved before it conquered the Dementor, but it was an excellent beginning. Ginny laughed and clapped her hands. “I did it, I did it!”

“Yes, you did!” Harry said, his pride in her obvious.

“Harry, what did you say to her?” asked Justin Finch-Fletchley. “You gave her some kind of help you didn’t give the others.”

“I wanted to see how all of you would do on your own first. I honestly thought Ron and Hermione could manage without help, but it is such a tricky spell, and doing it with a Dementor right here makes it extra difficult. And they went first, which took a lot of nerve on their part. Neville finally has a wand that chose him, so his spell work is improving tremendously. I didn’t think I’d need to help him, and I didn’t. And he’d already seen the Dementor three times before he had to deal with it himself, which I think may have been some help to him. Ginny is my girlfriend, as most of you know. She looked pretty uncertain for a moment there, and I thought her happy thought might not be strong enough, so I suggested she use something else. It worked.”

“What did you suggest to her?” Justin demanded.

“What works for Ginny won’t work for you,” Harry reminded him. “You need to find your own happy thought.”

“So what’s yours?” Justin asked impatiently. “And what did you tell Ginny to choose?”

“I didn’t ‘tell’ Ginny anything except that her first choice probably wasn’t strong enough. I told her my own happy thought and that she might consider choosing something similar.”

“And what was yours?” the boy demanded again.

Harry looked at Ginny and blushed. “Ginny.”

“And mine was Harry,” she said proudly. “And no, none of you can use Harry as your happy thought. He’s mine!” She giggled at her own audacity and at the interesting shade of pink that suffused Harry’s cheeks.

“OK, that’s enough personal stuff. Who else wants a go?” he asked, and the class continued amid lots of nervous and embarrassed laughter and many pounds of chocolate.


* * * * *


At the next D.A. meeting, Harry presented the concept of using actual battle strategy, and introduced Ron as the general, Hermione as his assistant, and Ginny as head of the Healer Squad.

“You’re just trying to protect your friends!” snapped Parvati.

“No, actually, Ginny and the healers will be in a lot of danger, since they’ll be out there in the middle of an ongoing battle, unable to fight because they’re tending the wounded. And good commanders try to take out the command post, so Ron and Hermione won’t be any safer than the rest of you. I do have to say, all three of them protested about being taken out of the battle, but these are important jobs and I believe they’re the best people for the jobs. Ron is a chess master — he’s beaten everyone he’s played, unless he’s been distracted. Hermione’s job is to keep him focused and help him with planning. Planning is one of her great strengths. It’s one of my biggest weaknesses, so I appreciate her being so good at it. Ginny’s had a lot of experience as a healer, and has been studying with Madam Pomfrey for months. They’re the best Hogwarts has to offer for these positions.”

“But you’re our leader!” someone called. “Why aren’t you the general?”

“I have to fight Voldemort. The D.A.’s job is to fight the Death Eaters and Dementors,” Harry said quietly. “I can’t be the general and do my own job at the same time.”

“Who said you have to fight Voldemort?” the same voice asked.

“Voldemort,” Harry said simply.

“Why?”

“I wish I knew, but he has chosen me. This scar,” he pushed up his fringe to reveal the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, “is his way of marking me as his adversary. He’s been trying to kill me all my life. You all know that. The stories you’ve heard about Voldemort and me are true. It’s my job to deal with him. It’s your job to deal with everyone else.”

“We’ll help you fight him!” Colin shouted eagerly.

Harry smiled fondly at the boy. “Thanks, Colin. If all of you do your job with the Death Eaters and Dementors, my job will be much easier. I’ve had to face all of them, plus Voldemort, by myself before. It will be great to have you lot there with me, knowing I don’t have to do it all alone.”

The room was almost eerily silent for a while. When he felt the tension lift and their task becoming accepted by the D.A. members, Harry went on, “OK, who among you has any experience at all with healing, or is interested in healing? We’ll need a squad of healers.” A few hands went up, and the selection process was on. Harry divided the D.A. into squads, moving people between squads as needed to get as equal a balance of skills as possible. Then he appointed a leader for each squad. “You leaders will meet with Ron regularly to learn the battle strategies. He’s studying and planning them now, so these meetings should begin just after the Christmas holidays. After you leaders understand the strategies, you will get your squad together and practice them. Then once every squad has their job learned well, we’ll have drills in the strategies with the entire D.A. Right. Now we’ll get back to learning new shield charms.”


* * * * *


It was a cold, snowy day when the Hogwarts’ students had their November Hogsmeade visit. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were bundled up against the cold as they headed to the village to do their Christmas shopping. The boys and girls split up once they had purchased presents for nearly everyone but each other. Harry and Ron had already found things for each other’s girlfriends, but finding just the right thing for their sweethearts was giving them trouble, and Harry still needed a present for Ron. Ron headed for the book store to find something for Hermione, while Harry browsed through several places before finding himself in a jewellery shop.

“Hello, young man. I’m Mr. Joyero, the proprietor. How may I help you?” a tall, thin man with wavy black hair, deep brown eyes and an olive complexion asked Harry.

“I’m just looking,” Harry replied carefully, not wanting to be rushed into a decision by a pushy clerk.

After Harry had browsed a while, Mr. Joyero asked, “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Well. . .it’s for my girlfriend,” Harry began awkwardly.

“Ah, I see,” the man said kindly. “Perhaps a few questions can help us narrow down your choices?”

“OK.”

“How serious are you? Would you be interested in a ring, perhaps? ” Joyero asked, gesturing toward a case full of rings, some with diamonds in them.

“Erm. . .not that serious,” Harry responded, blushing madly. “We’re still a bit young for that, I think.”

The man smiled in understanding. “Then possibly a nice necklace? Young ladies usually like necklaces and bracelets, or might she prefer earrings?”

“Let’s see some necklaces,” Harry agreed. The proprietor opened a glass showcase and pulled out a wide assortment of gold pendants on various kinds of chains. Some were much too gaudy to look right on Ginny. Some looked like they’d suit a much older person than Ginny. Others looked like something Harry thought she might enjoy. He pointed at a simple but elegant gold Gryffindor lion pendant that had a ruby under the lion’s upraised paw. The delicate chain was so fine, it was nearly invisible, just making slight glints of gold as it caught the light. “That one’s nice.”

“All right, let’s set it aside. Do you see anything else you fancy?”

A heart-shaped pendant set with a ruby also appealed to Harry and was set aside. After a bit of thought, he had some misgivings about the heart — it seemed to imply things about his feelings for Ginny that he wasn’t ready to admit to yet. He settled on the lion pendant and got his money out of his pocket as the man removed the price tag and wrapped the pendant. Harry’s movement caused his fringe to shift, and his scar was exposed.

“Oh! You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” Mr. Joyero exclaimed excitedly.

Harry was instantly cautious. “Erm. . .yes.”

“Oh, Mr. Potter, it’s such a privilege to meet you! I’ve read all the articles about you, and I must say many of them have been most unkind.”

“Uh. . .yeah. Thanks.” Harry was uncomfortable with the man’s praise, but at least he was on Harry’s side — that was good, right? He tried hard not to blush under the man’s intense and enthusiastic scrutiny.

“When I read the one about your being there when You-Know-Who came back. . .oh my, how horrible! And you fought him! And again last year, from what I’ve been reading.”

“Well, Professor Dumbledore actually. . .” Harry began honestly.

“I’m just so honoured you’ve chosen my shop for your purchase. I’ll give you a hefty discount, shall I?” the proprietor said as he tore up the receipt he’d been writing.

Harry stared at him a moment, then grinned and said, “Thanks!”

“I remember when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was murdering and torturing people before you stopped him, years ago. My own sister and her family were all killed by him and his Death Eaters.” Joyero shuddered when he said this. “You’ve been able to stand up to him when no one else has. I have the utmost admiration for you. If there’s ever anything I can do to help you, please let me know,” the man finished sincerely.

“Thanks! I appreciate that. And the discount!” Harry said with a grin, then he sobered. “And I’m very sorry about your family.”

The jeweller nodded his thanks, then shook off the gloomy mood and got back to taking care of Harry. “Shall I give this pendant any powers? Love charms, what have you?”

“You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“Um. . .not love charms. How about protection charms? Can you do those?”

“I do have some I can use. They protect the wearer from various poisons and other insidious forms of attack. They won’t protect her from direct attack, such as spells and so on.”

“How much extra will it cost?” Harry asked, mentally counting the money in his bag and calculating how many other things he still had to buy.

“It will be my pleasure to do it for free, for you, Mr. Potter,” Joyero said with a smile.

“Thank you! That’s great!”

The jeweller took the necklace out of the box and performed some charms on it, then re-boxed it and handed it to Harry. “I hope she enjoys it,” he said as he put Harry’s payment in the till, then shook the boy’s hand. “I have earrings to match that if you have need of a gift for her in the future,” he added.

“I’m sure she’ll like it, and I’ll keep the earrings in mind. Thanks again!” Harry grinned at the man as he left the shop. He soon found Ron walking with his hands in his pockets, looking dejected. “What’s up?”

“I can’t find anything for Hermione,” Ron grumbled. “How’s your shopping going?”

“I found something great for Ginny,” Harry said, pulling out the pendant and showing it to Ron.

“Whoa, that’s really nice! Where did you get it? Do they have less expensive things?” Ron asked.

“We can find out. Come on.” A small bell jangled as Harry and Ron entered the jewellery store. The proprietor came into the shop from the back room and smiled warmly at Harry.

“Did you decide you wanted those earrings, Mr. Potter?”

“No, but my friend Ron needs a gift for his girlfriend, and I thought you might have something that would do,” Harry responded.

“Not as expensive as what Harry bought,” Ron interjected quickly.

“How about something in silver, then? We have some lovely things here,” Joyero offered. The choices were soon narrowed down to a charm bracelet and a charm that looked like a book, into which Ron could put whatever photos he wanted.

“Cool,” Ron breathed. “And how much is it?”

The proprietor looked from Ron to Harry, realizing this redhead must be Harry’s best friend from the way they acted together. He glanced back at Ron. “You’re in luck, young man. This item is on a 30% discount today. Will that fit your budget?”

“Wow! Yes, thanks! I can afford that!” Ron said gleefully. He held the bracelet and charm up for Harry’s inspection. “What d’you reckon?”

“I think she’ll like it a lot,” Harry assured him.

“Which pictures should I put in it?” Ron asked as the proprietor took the bracelet and charm to remove the price tags and box them up.

“It will take four, right?” said Harry.

“Yup.”

Harry thought about it a moment before answering. “How about one of the two of you, one of you alone, one of the four of us and one of Crookshanks. That should make her happy.”

“Cool!”

As the boys left the jewellery shop, a commotion up the street caught their attention. A massive group of Dementors was gliding down the street, filling the street from shop-front to shop-front. People were running for shelter, screaming loudly, dropping their packages, knocking each other over in their haste. In front of a shop, a little boy was knocked flat. A Dementor glided over and picked him up, preparing to Kiss him. A lone, dainty figure with long curly hair was defiantly trying to cast a Patronus at them over and over, but failing. Harry sent a Patronus to protect the boy, then sent another to follow Ron’s, which was headed toward Hermione and the Dementor who now had her locked in its hands, bending her head back to Kiss her Harry sent two more stags in quick succession to chase the rest of the Dementors out of the village.

“Hermione! Hermione!” Ron screamed as he raced up the street following the great bear that was his Patronus. His bear caught the attention of the Dementor but when it actually reached the Dementor, the bear dissipated into mist rather than fighting. The Dementor holding Hermione didn’t let go of her, but bent its head again to perform the Kiss. Just as its face nearly touched Hermione’s, Harry’s stag Patronus galloped up and lifted the Dementor on his antlers, tossing it in the air and chasing it up the street after the other Dementors who were fleeing Harry’s other stags. Hermione fell limply to the snow-covered ground. Ron gathered her up in his arms, tears streaming down his face. “Hermione! Wake up! Hermione, you have to be all right! Wake up!” he sobbed, his voice breaking.

Harry slid to a stop on his knees beside Ron and handed him a chunk of chocolate. “Get this into her,” he instructed tersely. “Break it up as small as you can. Slide slivers between her teeth and cheeks so it can melt in her mouth.” Then Harry ran to the side of the little boy who’d also been attacked. The boy’s father was holding him, weeping uncontrollably. Harry looked at the child and touched his cheek, then found the pulse in the boy’s neck. He felt the reassuring beat under his fingers, turned to the father and said, “He didn’t get Kissed. He’ll be all right. He’s just passed out. Give him all this chocolate. It will help him feel better.” As Harry handed the man a good-sized chunk of Honeyduke’s Best Chocolate, the little boy’s eyes fluttered open. Harry smiled down at him for a moment before returning to Ron’s side. “How is she?”

Ron was holding her tightly against his own body and inside his cloak, trying to warm her. “She opened her eyes a little bit a minute ago, but then she closed them again. Do you think she’s going to. . .?” Ron choked back a sob and stared at Harry with desperate pleading in his eyes.

“She’s going to be fine, Ron, don’t worry. It didn’t Kiss her,” Harry insisted, praying he was right. “Hermione? Come on, wake up. You need to eat some chocolate,” Harry insisted, tapping her cheeks with his fingertips to try to waken her. “Wake up! C’mon, Hermione, you’re scaring poor Ron to death!”

Ginny raced up to them and dropped to her knees beside Harry. “What happened?” she asked, aghast at Hermione’s pallor.

“Dementors,” Harry said grimly, holding Hermione’s ice-cold hand in his and trying to rub some warmth into it. He’d slipped some chocolate between Hermione’s lips, but she had been unresponsive. He remembered something he’d seen on one of the medical dramas Aunt Petunia liked to watch. He pressed his knuckles into Hermione’s breastbone and rocked them back and forth, hard. Suddenly she gave a little gasp and coughed. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking hard as she tried to focus. Harry sat back, amazed something from one of Aunt Petunia’s programmes had actually worked.

“Ron? What happened?” she murmured, looking up at him blearily.

“A Dementor nearly got you,” Ron said, his voice breaking. He had a lock of her hair squeezed so tightly in his hand, the knuckles were white. He realized what he was doing, then opened his hand and tenderly smoothed the unruly curls back from her face.

“Here, eat this chocolate,” Harry insisted. “It will help, honestly.”

Hermione turned her head to see Harry and smiled feebly. “Harry. You saved me, didn’t you? Thanks.”

He just shrugged, but added, “Ron’s Patronus distracted the Dementor — he’s the one who saved you.”

“No, Harry, your Patronus saved her,” Ron began stubbornly, disgusted with the pitiful performance of his own Patronus.

“Yours got there in time to make it hesitate about Kissing her. Take credit for that, Ron,” Harry said seriously. “You did well.”

Ron’s face brightened when he realized what Harry was saying was true. “My Patronus did help, didn’t it?” he said in amazement. “And it was a bear! It’s never had a clearly defined shape before.”

“You just needed a stronger incentive than you had in class, I guess,” Harry said, clapping his friend on the back. “Come on, let’s go to the Three Broomsticks. Lying in this snow isn’t helping Hermione get warm. She could do with a butterbeer, after she eats all this chocolate,” he finished, waving a large chunk of chocolate under her nose and giving her a cheeky grin. She wrinkled her nose prettily at Harry and took the chocolate, taking a good bite out of it before being lifted bodily off the ground by Ron.

“Ron! I can walk!” she protested.

“You’re still weak. I’m taking care of you,” he said adamantly, carrying her toward the pub down the street with long, determined strides. Harry and Ginny looked at each other and grinned. Ron made quite a dashing hero, his long wavy red hair blowing in the crisp breeze, his face unguarded and showing his deep feelings for Hermione. As Harry and Ginny started to follow their friends, Harry felt a touch on his arm.

“Mr. Potter, sir?” the weary looking middle-aged man said humbly.

“Yes?”

“It was my son you saved,” the man began. “Is the young lady going to be all right?”

“Yes, she’ll be fine, thanks. Is your son all right?”

“Yes, thanks to you. I have something I want to give you. If you could just give me a moment of your time and come along to my shop?” the man asked respectfully.

Harry hesitated, looking at Ginny. He didn’t sense any danger here, but he had learned the hard way to be more cautious. “Where are we going?”

“I own Dervish and Banges. I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Ben Dervish. It’s an honour to meet you, Mr. Potter, and your young lady, as well.”

“We’ve been to your shop many times,” Ginny said politely. “I’m Ginny Weasley.”

“Pleasure,” the man said sincerely, shaking each of their hands in turn. “I have some rather. . .um. . .special books that I think will be of interest to you, Mr. Potter. I think you should have them. I can explain more in my shop.” He looked around nervously at the crowd that had materialized as if by magic in the street once it was clear of Dementors. Those who’d gathered to see how Hermione and the boy were after the Dementor attack had finally gone on about their business, although many still cast curious glances Harry’s way.

“OK. Hang on,” Harry said. He jogged down the street toward the Three Broomsticks until he was in hailing range of Ron. “Oy, Ron!”

“Yeah? I thought you were right behind me,” Ron said, a puzzled look on his face as he turned to face Harry. “Where’s Ginny?”

“Ginny and I are going to Dervish and Banges for a few minutes. We’ll catch you up in the pub, all right?”

Ron looked down at Hermione, who seemed perfectly happy to be in his arms and eating chocolate. “All right with you?” Ron asked solicitously.

“Yes, that’s fine,” she answered, smiling up at him.

“All right there, Hermione?” Harry asked, still a bit concerned about her.

“Never better,” she said with a radiant smile at Ron.

They’ll never miss us, Harry thought with a chuckle as he jogged back to Ginny and Mr. Dervish. “All set. We’ll meet them in the pub,” he told Ginny. They followed Mr. Dervish into his shop. He made sure no one was looking, then took them behind the back shelves of books and wizarding supplies and moved a cabinet, revealing a small door. Harry was nervous about the hidden room for some reason, and pulled out his wand.

“No worries, Mr. Potter,” Dervish assured him with a warm smile. “You’re a hero here. You’re safe.”

“I’m just being careful,” Harry said, keeping his wand out.

“You know best, I’m sure,” Dervish said agreeably. Once inside the room, he pushed several sets of shelves aside, revealing a mouldy portrait hanging on the wall. He whispered something to the portrait and it swung aside, revealing a safe built into the wall. “This is where I keep the truly valuable books and papers — or those that are particularly dangerous,” he said ominously. He opened the safe and pulled out a stack of large books, turning and handing them to Harry. “I’m sorry they’re so dusty. I haven’t been in the safe for many years. Once I put these in there, I didn’t want to open it again.”

Harry held the books gingerly. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up, always a dangerous sign. “Erm. . .what are they?”

“These are the first three volumes of a twenty-volume set of books on dark magic,” Mr. Dervish explained. “These are extremely rare books. I came upon them in an estate sale. The man who sold them to me wanted to get rid of them quickly, so he took a very minimal price for them. He was afraid to destroy them due to the enchantments on them. When I saw what they were, and who had owned them, I locked them away.”

Harry gulped. He was pretty sure he already knew the answers, but he just had to ask. “What are they? And who owned them?”

“I did some research on them, circumspectly of course, several years ago. They are supposed to be the most valuable resource for those who are interested in the Dark Arts. They belonged to . . .You-Know-Who,” Dervish answered in a nervous whisper. “I think you may benefit from reading them, so you’ll be prepared for the battles ahead. I only bought them to keep them from getting into the hands of Dark wizards. I didn’t know what to do with them. And then today. . . . It seems right for you to have them.”

Harry cautiously opened the cover of the top book. “T. Riddle” was inscribed on the title page, and scribbled out, with “Lord Voldemort” written in a far bolder hand beside it. Harry opened the book, leafing through pages at random. What he saw there set his teeth on edge. Scary stuff. “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Dervish. These are quite valuable, aren’t they?”

“They are, but I won’t sell them. I won’t even display them. He and his followers killed so many good people. My brother and his family, many dear friends. . . . Well, I don’t want to dredge up sad memories. I know you have them too.”

Harry nodded.

“Suffice it to say, I’ve been trying to do my bit to protect the world by keeping these books hidden. Now I think it’s time they were of some use to fight You-Know-Who.” Dervish hesitated, and then went on, “Meaning no disrespect, Mr. Potter, but I believe that, since you’re still a student and so young, you should probably have Professor Dumbledore and your Defence teacher look at them before you get too involved in them. I don’t want what’s in these books to harm you in any way. They’ll know how to look out for you.”

“May I ask why you never gave them to Dumbledore?”

“I tried once, but he said it wasn’t time yet, and he wasn’t meant to have them. I think now is the time, and you’re the right person to give them to,” Dervish said simply.

Harry looked at the books in amazement, then at the shop owner, his eyes shining as he gazed at Mr. Dervish. “Thank you, sir. These are a brilliant gift.” He thought a moment, then said, “I don’t have any way of carrying twenty books this size, and they should probably stay hidden. . .”

“I can put a Shrinking Charm on them so they’ll fit in your bag.”

“The enchantments on them will allow that? On the whole set?”

“Yes. That’s how I brought them here when I purchased them.”

“Fantastic. Thanks!”

Harry handed the books back to Mr. Dervish, who set them and the rest of the set of books on the floor, dusting off each book with a rag from his pocket as he stacked them. Then he did a Shrinking Charm on them, tied them in a small bundle, and inserted the neatly bound stack into Harry’s bag, where they barely made a bulge. He closed the safe and the portrait and dusted off his hands and clothes. “Sorry about the dust, really. Such a mess.”

“No problem,” Harry assured him, then he and Ginny followed the man to the door to the shop.

“Let me make sure we won’t be seen coming out of here,” Mr. Dervish said as they approached the small door back into the shop. He stepped out and walked away from the door a bit, checking to see if anyone was near that part of the shop.

Harry used the power of his glasses to see around corners to check things out, as well. He and Ginny had their wands out, ready for trouble.

Dervish came back and said, “It’s fine, come on.” As soon as Harry and Ginny were out of the back room, Dervish sealed the door, and pushed the cabinet back in place to hide the door from view.

“Someone’s coming,” Harry whispered as they approached the front of the shop, his wand steady despite the sudden jolt of nerves in his body. “We need a diversion.”

“Quidditch,” Ginny whispered.

“Yes, that’s good,” Harry murmured with a smile at her. “So do you have any more books on Quidditch, Mr. Dervish?” he said in a normal voice, putting his wand in his pocket, but holding on to it. Ginny did the same. “I already have the ones I’ve seen on that shelf.”

“There are one or two new ones out, I believe, Mr. Potter. Let me show you the catalogue, and you can order them if you wish,” Dervish replied, getting into the spirit of the thing.

Harry and Ginny followed him to the front counter and looked at the catalogue with him, ignoring Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were prowling the shop. Apparently, they were the ones who had set off Harry’s internal alarms. “Oh, that one looks good. Could I get it in time for Christmas?” Harry said, indicating a book on the list.

“Seriously?” Dervish asked quietly.

Harry nodded and grinned. “How much is it?” He turned to Ginny. “I’ll give it to Ron for Christmas — I think he’ll like it, don’t you?” She smiled and nodded.

Dervish thought a minute while looking around the shop at the other customers, some of whom were openly staring at Harry. “Mr. Potter, since you saved my son’s life, there will be no charge for the book.” He gave Harry a small wink as he said this.

Harry understood what Dervish was doing. Other people had seen Harry save the boy’s life, and would think it natural for Dervish to thank Harry in some way. And Dervish’s generosity would probably lead to word-of-mouth advertising for his shop. Harry thanked the man sincerely and made arrangements for the book to be delivered to Hogwarts before the Christmas holidays. “Thanks again,” Harry said as he and Ginny left. “Happy Christmas!”

“And a Happy Christmas to you, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley. Always a pleasure to see Hogwarts students,” Dervish called after them.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle watched Harry and Ginny leave. “I thought you said Potter was up to something, coming in here,” Goyle said grumpily.

“I thought he was,” Malfoy said with a shrug. “I was just certain he looked a bit sneaky when I saw him and the Weasley girl coming in here. I guess he was just shopping for that boneheaded Mudblood-loving loser friend of his.”

“Yeah,” muttered Crabbe. “Let’s get out of here. All these books give me the creeps.”

“I’ll bet they were off snogging behind the stacks when we couldn’t find them,” Goyle said with a leering grin.

“What’s the matter, Goyle? Jealous?” Malfoy sneered as they walked out of the shop.

Goyle looked flummoxed. After a while he said, “Well. . .she is awfully pretty.”

“Yeah,” Crabbe agreed glumly. “What a waste that she likes Potter.”

“Huh,” Malfoy grunted in surprise. “And here I thought you two hadn’t noticed girls yet. Or that you fancied each other!” he finished with a snort, his derisive laughter ringing in the cold air. Crabbe and Goyle both looked at Malfoy with disgust, then trudged behind him down the street as he continued to shadow Harry’s movements.


* * * * *


“Hermione! How are you feeling?” Ginny called as she and Harry neared Ron and Hermione’s table in the Three Broomsticks.

“Much better, thanks!” Hermione said with a smile. “Ron’s been taking care of me.” She smiled fondly up at him. Their chairs were close together and Ron had his arm around her back, gently rubbing her shoulder with his hand.

“I’ll get us some butterbeers,” Harry said as Ginny sat down.

When Harry returned, Ron asked, “Why’d you go to the bookshop? Did you forget something?”

Harry mulled over his answer. He couldn’t say too much here in the pub. “The boy I saved was the owner’s son. He wanted to thank me.”

“What’d he do?” Hermione asked, interested in anything to do with books.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harry murmured, glancing around, then continued in a normal voice, “You’ll find out soon enough! Christmas is coming, after all!”

Hermione and Ron looked from Harry to Ginny then back at Harry. It was obvious he was keeping something from them, and that he had every intention of telling them later.

“Are you done with your shopping?” Hermione asked.

“Yup! Got the last one taken care of just now,” Harry replied.

Ginny nodded, “I’m done too. You?”

“We’re both finished. Let’s head back to school. I’m really tired,” Hermione said.

“And well you should be,” said Harry. “You’re going straight to the hospital wing for a check-up when we get back, young lady!” he added with a grin.

“Yeah, Ron already said that,” Hermione agreed.

Harry and Ginny finished their drinks and the four friends started the walk back to school. The boys took the girls’ bags from them and rattled them gently, trying to guess what their Christmas presents might be. Their laughter echoed back from the woods along the path to school. Harry’s neck prickled again, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle staring after them.

“Slytherins behind us,” he murmured. He and the others all got their wands out, ready to fight if they had to. But Malfoy and his cronies stayed where they were, apparently satisfied that Harry and his friends were just going back to school.

As they walked down the path, Hermione tired. They stopped and let her rest several times, but she’d been through quite an ordeal and was simply worn out.

“Tell you what,” Harry said. “I’ll do the Thestral and fly you home.”

“Oh, Harry, that’s so sweet,” Hermione said, “but you know how I hate flying.”

“Ron and Ginny can come too. I’m really good at flying as a Thestral. I don’t think I could carry all three of you very far, but it’s a short hop across this section of the woods to Hagrid’s, and it’s not too far to the castle from there. It’s a long walk following the path.” Harry grinned at his friends, daring them to accept his offer. “Aw, c’mon. No point in Hermione getting exhausted, is there?”

“If you think you can manage it, sure, Harry, that’s great! Thanks!” Hermione agreed.

“Ginny, can you carry my bag?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” She took the bag from him and watched him disappear, much more quickly than he had the last time she’d watched him transform into a thestral. She giggled when the leathery lips of the invisible reptilian horse nibbled her neck. She put her hand on his head, then slid it down his silky neck until she felt him kneel down so she could get on. “I’ll ride in front, Hermione can ride behind me, and Ron at the back, how’s that? Ron, your arms are long enough to reach around both of us to hold on, aren’t they?” Ginny asked before she mounted.

“Yeah, that’s a good plan. Get on,” Ron urged her. He helped Hermione get on behind Ginny, then climbed on behind Hermione. The three of them squeezed together as much as possible in order to fit well on Harry’s back. They felt the lurch as Harry got back to his feet, then started trotting, then cantering to take off gently so he wouldn’t unseat them.

As they topped the trees, a red spell shot in front of them. Ron looked around and cried, “Malfoy’s spotted us!” He let go of Harry’s mane with one hand to pull out his wand. Hermione and Ginny did the same. Spells came rapid-fire from the three Slytherins on the ground. Ron, Hermione and Ginny shot back at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, hanging on for dear life as Harry ducked and weaved beneath them, trying to avoid being hit while not unseating his passengers. They felt him shudder and falter as three spells hit in quick succession.

“We’re going to fall!” Hermione screamed.

“No, we’re not!” Ron yelled with determination. “Levitation Charm on Harry, all together! Wingardium Leviosa!” With the help of the levitation charms, they managed to stay aloft. They could feel Harry fighting to keep flying, but they knew he was injured.

“Hang on, Harry, I can see Hagrid’s hut from here. We’re almost there!” Ginny encouraged, rubbing the tears off her face roughly with the wrist of her wand hand. She, Hermione and Ron were still maintaining their Levitation Charms the best they could.

“I didn’t know a Levitation Charm would work if the wizard wasn’t on the ground,” Hermione said, amazed. “Great idea, Ron.”

“I didn’t know it would work either. I just couldn’t think of anything else,” Ron muttered. “How badly do you think he’s hurt?”

“He’s struggling more and more,” Hermione said quietly. “Ginny!” she cried suddenly. “What’s that on your robes? Are you hurt?”

Ginny looked down at her leg, which was covered in blood. The bright red against the black of her robes made her shudder. “It’s not me,” she said in a small voice. “It’s H-h-harry.”


* * * * *


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