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The Time of Destiny
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: 503
Summary: Sequel to "The Refiner's Fire." Harry Potter returns to Privet Drive for the last time, prior to his Seventh Year at Hogwarts. Much to the Dursley's surprise, Remus is going to stay with him due to a head injury Harry received on the train. The Dursleys are not happy with this situation, as you can well-imagine. This fic covers both the summer before Harry's seventh year, and his entire last year at school. Canon-based with some OC. Ships, for those who care: H/G, R/H, R/T
Hitcount: Story Total: 508239; Chapter Total: 16679
Awards: View Trophy Room






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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: “Looking at CVs” is Brit for “reviewing resumes.” Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my fabulous beta team, Blakeavich, Starfox, Iris and Asad.

You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic here.

New chapters are regularly posted each Tuesday (EST) on the Yahoo! Group.



Chapter 28 — Patterns



At breakfast a few days later, Dumbledore stopped behind Harry at the Gryffindor table. He said “Good morning” to Ginny, then turned to Harry. “Would you join me in my office at nine this morning?”

“I have Potions this morning,” Harry reminded him.

“I’ll have a word with Professor Snape,” Dumbledore said serenely. “See you at nine, then?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “What do you want me to bring?”

“Just yourself. We’ll be attending a meeting together.” He started to move away.

Harry frowned and got up to follow his headmaster. “A meeting?” he said quietly. They stopped to talk near the end of the Gryffindor table, a few feet away from the nearest students.

“Yes. Bring Merlin. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it,” Dumbledore said with an approving smile. “I was hoping you’d be wise enough to leave the table to ask your questions.”

“So this was another test?” Harry said, retuning his mentor’s smile. Dumbledore was constantly springing surprises on him to test his judgement and reflexes. “I got up because I thought I should find out if I’m in some kind of trouble or not,” he added with an impish grin. “Am I?”

“Do you feel you’ve done anything worthy of getting in trouble?” Dumbledore said, one eyebrow quirked quizzically.

“Not lately, amazingly enough,” Harry chuckled, “but it’s not usually me who thinks I’ve done something wrong, is it?”

Dumbledore smiled at the young man fondly. “You are such a delight, Harry,” he said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “No, you’re in no trouble, but the Ministry is. They’re being quite foolish. They are at an impasse and want my input. I told them they would have to come here, as I can’t leave Hogwarts right now.”

Harry frowned. “Why can’t you leave Hogwarts?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “I merely wanted to have the meeting in the comfort of my own office. I’m old and not that fond of travelling anymore. And if they have to come here, they will be out of their comfort zone and may possibly listen to reason a bit more easily.”

“I see,” he said, not really certain if he “saw” or not.

“You’ll understand once the meeting begins. Be at my office a bit early, if you can, and be sure to wear your medals.”

“My medals?” Harry said, surprised. “Why?”

“You’ll be meeting with the Minister’s Cabinet. You should look as ‘official’ as possible. You don’t need to wear the actual medals, just the commemorative ribbons — which you’re supposed to wear daily anyway, remember?”

“I don’t see you wearing yours,” Harry countered with a grin.

“Ah well, do as I say, not as I do,” Dumbledore said philosophically. “Just wear them, all right? And do bring Merlin. He should get quite a laugh out of some of it. And Harry — walk to my office, don’t flash there. You want to make as good an impression as possible.”

Harry frowned again. “I am in some kind of trouble, aren’t I?”

“No, dear boy, you aren’t, but students and non-Ministry members, except for consultants like me, are never allowed at such meetings. You were part of the Ministry meetings I took you to in the past because you were involved in what they were talking about — the battle in France, for instance. You’re not involved in what they’re meeting about this time, but you do have a better working knowledge of the situation than most of them do, so I think it will be useful for you to be there. However, we’ll be breaking a great many traditions and putting several noses out of joint. No point in giving them anything else to get twitchy about, is there?” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

“No, I wouldn’t want to give them more reasons to get twitchy,” Harry agreed, smiling at the mischief he saw in his mentor’s eyes. “But what is it that I have a working knowledge of? What’s it about?”

“I’d rather not discuss it further here,” Dumbledore said, glancing around at students who were paying too much attention to his and Harry’s conversation. Ron and Hermione looked at them quizzically as they arrived for breakfast, but just waved and moved on when they noticed Harry and Dumbledore were speaking seriously, not just chatting.

Harry understood at once. “All right. See you then,” he said, then went back to his seat to finish his breakfast.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked curiously.

“He wants me to attend a meeting in his office,” Harry said, leaning across the table toward his best mate and Hermione so he could speak quietly.

“What did you do?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.

Harry laughed. “Nothing! You know, I’ve just realized that we haven’t broken many school rules this year. We’re slipping!”

Ron gave him a wicked grin. “What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing yet, but work on it, all right? We have reputations to maintain!” Harry said, chuckling.

“Boys!” Hermione scolded. “Ron, you’re Head Boy! You can’t —”

“Relax, Hermione, we’re only joking,” Ron assured her, while winking broadly at Harry. Harry and Ginny fought to stifle their laughter.

Harry glanced at his watch, then hurried to finish his breakfast. “I’ve got to run.”

“You never said what the meeting was for,” Ginny reminded him.

“I’ll tell you later. I have to do some stuff to get ready for it,” Harry said, kissing her on the temple and picking up his bag. “Have a good day, all of you. See you later.”

“Are you skipping class?” Hermione said, stunned. Harry had been faithful in his attendance of Potions, Inter-Beings Languages and Care of Magical Creatures once he and Dumbledore had settled to a schedule for their sessions, and he had Potions this morning. She hadn’t realized the meeting was going to interfere with the class.

“Have to. He said he’d clear it with Snape. Take good notes for me!” Harry said, waving as he strode off down the length of the Great Hall. He didn’t want to tell his friends about the meeting until he knew more about it, and it would take him a while to get his ribbons onto his robes neatly anyway, so he needed to rush back to his room and get ready.


* * * * *


Harry walked into Dumbledore’s office with ten minutes to spare, Merlin riding happily on his shoulder. His headmaster was busy moving tables and chairs around.

“What can I do to help?” Harry said as Merlin flew over to join Fawkes on his perch.

“We need to move all the tables out of the way and make a circle for fifteen chairs,” Dumbledore said, sending one more table gently against the wall with a wave of his wand, “and then conjure those chairs.”

“Where would you like me to start?” Harry said. “Shall I move tables while you start on the chairs?”

“That would be splendid,” Dumbledore said with a smile as he began conjuring chintz-covered cushy armchairs. Soon they had the office arranged the way Dumbledore wanted, and several tea trays set up ready to serve the meeting attendees.

“What’s the meeting about?” Harry said as they finished their preparations. Before the headmaster could answer, there was a knock on the door.

“Harry, would you answer that?”

“Sure,” he said, moving to the door.

A grim-faced portly man strode haughtily into the office, his eyes on Dumbledore and the room’s arrangements. He didn’t spare Harry a single glance, but tossed his cloak at the young man as if Harry was a coat rack — or a servant. Harry surmised that this man was the type of person who expected to be waited on, yet never noticed those who were taking care of him. The man moved to a chair and settled himself, then opened his newspaper and began reading. A moment later, he held his hand out as if expecting something to be put in it. When nothing happened, he snapped his fingers impatiently.

Harry looked at Dumbledore uncertainly and saw a twinkle in his mentor’s eyes, so he put the cloak on a nearby bench without saying anything and then went back to arranging things properly on the tea trays around the room.

The man snapped his fingers again, still with his nose buried in his paper. Finally he sighed. “Tea, two sugars,” he said without even glancing at Harry. “Your servant is awfully slow, Dumbledore.”

“He isn’t a servant,” Dumbledore replied smoothly. “He’s my apprentice. If you’d like tea, please help yourself. My apprentice and I have a few more preparations to make.” He nodded at Harry and turned toward the back of his office, knowing the boy would follow him.

The man huffed with irritation and then got up, tossed his newspaper into the seat of his chair and went to the tea tray to make his own tea.

When they were in the back of the office, Harry leaned toward Dumbledore and whispered, “Who is he and why is he like that?”

“That, Harry, is the current version of Lucius Malfoy.”

“What?” Harry said, startled.

Dumbledore sighed. “His name is Colm Dorking. He was always in Malfoy’s shadow when it came to peddling his influence in the Ministry. Now that Mr. Malfoy is gone, he’s been throwing his weight around, trying to be the ‘power behind the scenes’ that Malfoy was. Unfortunately for him, Amelia Bones isn’t as easily swayed as Cornelius Fudge was. Keep an eye on him. He’s trouble.”

“Is he a Death Eater?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.

“I don’t know for certain, but I do trust your instincts. Watch and listen, Harry. Feel free to chat with people before the meeting they speak to you, but once the meeting starts, don’t speak unless someone asks you something directly. You can learn a great deal more by watching and listening than you can by speaking. By the way, you did very well by not saying anything when he came in. You may have noticed I didn’t introduce you to him. That was deliberate. He still doesn’t know who you are.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily. “The look on his face when he realizes he was treating Harry Potter as a servant should be interesting.” He smiled fondly at his apprentice. “When the meeting is over, we’ll discuss everything, all right? This meeting is an important part of your training, and I’ve found your observational skills to be first-rate. I will be interested to hear your conclusions about various people.”

Harry smiled at the conspiratorial look in Dumbledore’s eye. “What are you up to?”

“Watch and listen. And hold your tongue during the meeting as long as you can. That’s all you need to know for now. Stay here until the room has filled up a bit more, all right? There’s no point in spoiling a good surprise!”

“You are up to something, I know you are,” Harry said, greatly intrigued.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes dancing, and laid a finger on the tip of his long, crooked nose. “Right in one. You are a clever boy.”

“And I don’t get any warning?”

“Your reactions will be much better with no prior warning,” Dumbledore said confidently. “When you do speak, I would like you to speak with complete honesty, no matter what it is you feel like saying. And do use your Occlumency so none of these people can read you, all right? I don’t know if any of them are skilled at Legilimency or not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Right. I’m off to greet our guests. Stay here until the noise level gets a bit higher. I’d rather you blend in at first rather than standing out.”

Harry tilted his head, perplexed, but nodded his agreement.

Within a few minutes, the office was filled with noise as people milled around chatting, getting their coffee or tea, snacking on scones and biscuits before the meeting was called to order. Harry peeked through the doorway and saw Dumbledore nod at him. He moved into the room, standing quietly by the back wall until a mass of curly red hair passed close in front of him.

Percy Weasley turned startled eyes on Harry. “What are you doing here?” he said in an unfriendly tone.

“Hi, Percy. How are you?” Harry replied quietly, deciding to be as friendly as possible and not react to Percy’s rudeness.

“Too busy to deal with students. Tell Dumbledore what you need and get out,” Percy snapped.

“He knows I’m here. He asked me to come.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m his apprentice,” Harry said simply. He almost didn’t say anything else, but the image of Molly Weasley’s broken-hearted tears over this straying son of hers popped into his head and compelled him to speak. “Your family misses you.”

“I don’t need them. They’ve caused me nothing but trouble.”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” Harry said. He regretted speaking to the irritable young man.

“Then don’t. Are you still so thick with my brother?”

“Oh yeah, best mates,” Harry assured him with a smile. “I’m rather ‘thick’ with your sister, as well.”

“What?” Percy said, horror-struck.

“Haven’t you read the papers in the last year?” Harry said, shaking his head in wonder. “We’ve been mentioned in there as a couple. There were loads of photos of us together, as well.”

“I hoped those reports were erroneous,” Percy said stiffly, “or that she’d come to her senses by now.”

“They had pictures of us kissing, and you. . .? Never mind,” Harry said with another shake of his head, giving up on him. “I’ll tell your mum you looked well.”

“Don’t bother,” Percy snapped nastily.

Harry couldn’t leave things there. “She deserves better treatment than that. She loves you.”

“Look, Potter,” Percy said in a harsh undertone, “I don’t know how you’ve convinced so many people that You-Know-Who is back, but you can’t fool me. This is all some elaborate hoax by Dumbledore in an effort to take over the Ministry.”

Harry was taken aback. “There were pictures in the paper showing me fighting Voldemort,” he said, rather enjoying Percy’s shudder at the sound of the enemy’s name. “How could you ignore that?”

“Not everything you read in the paper is true. Even pictures can be doctored.”

“Yes, and the paper tells loads of lies about me,” Harry snapped, his temper dangerously near the surface. “But this happens to be true!”

“I am not convinced.”

“You still believe Fudge and Umbridge and that lot despite the change in the Ministry?” Harry was aghast.

“Dolores Umbridge was a fine administrator. She would have done wonders here at Hogwarts,” Percy said prissily.

Harry held up his right hand, the back of which still bore the scars of the evil black quill Umbridge had forced him to use for many detentions. Harry hadn’t bothered to get that scar removed when his others had been healed months ago. It reminded him that even non-Death Eaters could be evil and needed to be dealt with. “See this? Does this look like something a ‘fine administrator’ would do to a student?”

“How did you get that?” Percy said, stunned.

“She made me use a ‘special’ quill for detention that cut into my hand the lines she made me write,” Harry said, pointing to the words on his hand. “‘I must not tell lies,’ written in my own blood over and over, cutting into my hand until the mark won’t go away even two years later. And I wasn’t the one telling lies. She was.”

Dumbledore saw the two young men having rather heated words in the back of his office. “Harry? Hello, Mr. Weasley,” he said with a small smile. “Would you two please join us now?”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said, following Dumbledore to a pair of vacant chairs. Percy moved to a seat at a desk shoved against the wall directly across the room from where Harry and Dumbledore were seated. Harry realized Percy was still acting as a clerk, which probably meant he hadn’t had a promotion for quite a while.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones said from the chair on Harry’s other side, her voice warm and friendly.

“Good morning, Minister,” Harry said with a genuine smile. This Minister of Magic had a good head on her shoulders and was both honest and fair, characteristics quite lacking in the former Minister. And she seemed to both like and respect Harry, which he found quite refreshing. He wanted to stay on her good side if at all possible.

Madam Bones cleared her throat and silence fell in the room, except for the scratching of Percy’s quill. Harry glanced at Percy and saw the resentful look on the young man’s face when he realized Harry was being included in the meeting, apparently as an equal. Harry swallowed hard, wishing he’d avoided speaking with Percy at all. He’d wanted to try to heal the bad feelings between them, but it seemed he’d made things worse. His being seated between Madam Bones and Professor Dumbledore and not being required to take notes only added insult to the injury. He could feel the heat of Percy’s animosity all the way across the room.

“I’d like to thank all of you for making the trip here to Hogwarts,” Madam Bones began. “Mr. Weasley, are you ready?” she said, glancing at her clerk. At his curt nod, she went on. “I feel we need to discuss the current situation with those who are experts in the field, but, as you are aware, Professor Dumbledore was unable to leave the castle to come to our meeting. Mr. Weasley, if you would, please include a list of everyone who’s here in your notes, and make sure each one receives a transcript of today’s meeting.”

“Even Potter?” Percy said in disbelief.

“Yes, even Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones said smoothly.

“Why is that boy in our meeting?” Dorking demanded imperiously.

“I asked him to come,” Dumbledore replied. “He’s my apprentice and I want him to learn about diplomacy and statesmanship as well as magic.”

“Why do you need an apprentice?” the man snapped. “You run a school. Surely you don’t think that boy is going to be the next headmaster?”

“No, I don’t think Harry will be the next headmaster,” Dumbledore replied, maintaining his calm and relaxed tone, “but there’s no reason he couldn’t be at some point in the future, if he chooses to go into teaching. However, I am getting old. I know a great deal that is not taught in any school, nor is it written down in any book. I decided it was time I taught it to someone, and required someone who would be able to understand and use what I’m teaching him. Harry is the perfect candidate, and is doing very well as my apprentice.”

“Why him? He gets enough attention,” another man said aggressively. “And he’s a nutter anyway.”

“Why indeed? Could it possibly be that he’s the most talented wizard it has been my pleasure to know in all my long life?” Dumbledore said, still polite, but with steel behind his words. “And those who believe he’s a ‘nutter,’ as you say, believed stories printed in the Daily Prophet which have been shown, many times over now, to be lies.”

“He keeps trying to get himself killed,” the second man said. “The papers have printed numerous stories about him being in serious or critical condition —”

“Some of which were true, some false, but you can see he’s healthy and strong now. And it isn’t up to you or anyone else who I choose as my apprentice,” Dumbledore said sternly. “Harry’s qualifications as my apprentice aren’t in question here today, nor will they be at any other time or place. He’s doing what I’ve asked him to do. He didn’t ask to be in this meeting. He hasn’t acted inappropriately in any way, nor will he. So please, stop wasting the Minister’s and my time and let’s get on with the meeting, shall we?”

Harry sat silently throughout this heated exchange, doing his best not to blush under the intense scrutiny he was receiving. He wondered again what Dumbledore was up to.

“As I was about to say before we were interrupted,” Madam Bones said, her voice edged with irritation as she glared around the room, “the young man at my right is Harry Potter, a student at Hogwarts and a national hero in the fight against Lord Voldemort, as you should all know. He is also the apprentice of Albus Dumbledore. Next is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

She looked at each of her Cabinet members in turn, wishing she’d had the time to replace many of them. The holdovers from Fudge’s administration gave her headaches on a regular basis, but with their form of government, she was saddled with them until either their terms were up, or they made some serious mistake that could be documented so she could fire them. She was quietly seeking new Cabinet members to replace the recalcitrant ones, but in stepping into the Minister’s position between elections, she had to take things one step at a time. She sighed and got back on track.

“I’ve called you all to this meeting because we must develop a workable plan for dealing with the raids around the country by Dementors and Death Eaters.”

“Turn Potter loose on them,” one man sneered. “He’s the war hero. Let him fight them.”

“He’s only a boy,” another man said, sounding outraged. “He’s done more for this country than anyone has the right to expect, especially from one so young.”

Harry felt like squirming, but forced himself to sit still, keeping his hands open and relaxed on the arms of the chair, his face attentive and calm. Maintaining this appearance was taking a great deal of energy. He saw Dumbledore glance at him out of the corner of his eye and looked toward his headmaster for an instant, receiving a very deliberate wink for his trouble. Harry smiled inwardly. Whatever was going on, it must be going exactly the way Dumbledore wanted it to.

“ORDER!” Madam Bones called when the wrangling got louder. “Mr. Potter is not on trial here! This meeting has nothing to do with him. Please keep on the subject of today’s meeting or we’ll never get anything resolved!” When things settled down a bit, she tried again. “This type of behaviour is why we have not reached any conclusions in our discussions. We simply cannot let the meetings dissolve into invective and innuendo. There will be no more discussion of Mr. Potter’s qualifications. He is far more qualified than most of you to be in on this discussion. That’s the end of the matter,” she said sternly.

She looked at a middle-aged man who bore the appearance of an athlete gone a bit to seed. “Mr. Whittier, would you please give your report?” As he stood, she turned to Harry and Dumbledore and said, “Mr. Whittier is a representative of the Aurors.” Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement and Harry smiled at the man. An Auror! He would finally get to see what they did other than catching Dark wizards. He sat with an eager expression on his face, ready to hear whatever the man had to say.

“We have had a tremendous increase in the number of attacks by both Death Eaters and Dementors in recent weeks, all over the country,” Whittier began. “They’ve been staging random raids around the country for months, but the recent ones have become much more frequent and more violent.”

As he read off a list of statistics, Harry shuddered. It was horrifying. So many families murdered. So many people disappearing. Dark Marks appearing in clusters all over the country. But the worst were the Dementor attacks, which were becoming more widespread. Whittier displayed a map with sparkling spots of red light showing the locations of various attacks.

“We have done every type of analysis we can think of. We simply cannot predict where they will attack next. We have no way to stop them,” the Auror concluded with a sigh. “That’s all I have to report.” He sat down.

There was much discussion and dissention as the report was verbally shredded, the reputation of the man who gave it ripped to pieces right along with it. Harry looked at the group in dismay, wondering why they were attacking the man that way. He gave Whittier a sympathetic look, then turned his eyes to the map, studying the red spots. A small frown line appeared between his eyebrows as he stared at the map.

After the harangue had gone on for several minutes, Madam Bones demanded quiet. “All this yelling is getting us nowhere. It’s exactly the same thing you’ve done at every meeting. Just be quiet! We have new voices to listen to, and I’d like to hear what they have to say.” She turned to Dumbledore. “What do you think of the situation, Professor? Do you have any suggestions?”

“I think the situation is abominable, and that these people,” he said, indicating the Cabinet members, “need to stop abusing the Aurors, who are understaffed, underpaid and overworked,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“Hear, hear!” several people said loudly.

“I think we need to try to educate the public in how to do the Patronus Charm,” he added, “but I realize many people will never conquer it. However, I believe there may be some other solution.”

“Really?” Madam Bones said hopefully. “What is it?”

“Ask my apprentice. I believe he knows the answer.”

“Huh?” Harry said, feeling stupid. He’d been concentrating so hard on the map that he hadn’t listened to the conversation until he’d noticed all eyes were suddenly on him.

“Professor Dumbledore seems to think you know the answer to our problem,” Madam Bones prompted. “Do you?”

“Erm. . .” Harry said, stalling for time. He glanced nervously at Dumbledore, who smiled benignly and nodded his head. “I do?” he said, looking at his mentor in disbelief.

“You do. I saw you working it out just now,” Dumbledore said with a smile, nodding toward the map.

“Oh, that!” Harry said, relieved he finally had a clue about what his headmaster thought he knew. “Well, I don’t know that it’s a solution, but yes, I did have an idea.”

“Do go on, Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones encouraged him.

“May I . . .?” he asked her, gesturing toward the map.

“Please. Whatever you need.”

He rose and studied the map up close, then turned to the Auror. “Is there a way you can mark the date and time of the attacks on these spots?”

“Yes, there is,” Whittier said. “Hang on.” He waved his wand over the map and small numerals appeared inside each spot.

“Great. Now, is there a way to make the colours different to show the separate attacks?”

“Of course,” the man replied, a puzzled frown on his face. What was this kid up to? He waved his wand and the spots changed into many different colours. “All the marks that are the same colour are attacks that occurred during the same time period,” the man explained, pointing to various groupings of same-coloured spots.

”Great,” Harry said, studying the marks more closely. He was silent for a long time.

“What are you doing, Mr. Potter?” Madam Bones asked after several minutes.

“Studying the patterns,” Harry replied, still concentrating on the map.

“Could you explain?” she prompted.

Harry sighed and turned to face her. She was looking at him with open curiosity and a willingness to listen, as were many of the others in the room. Other people gave him openly hostile looks. He didn’t understand what the problem was, but he was determined to help Madam Bones if it was at all possible.

“I’m looking at the patterns of the raids,” he said, turning to point to the map. He moved his hand over a cluster of blue spots. “These attacks that are this shade of blue all occurred the same morning. They were individual attacks that were part of one greater, overall attack, if you see what I mean. I’m sorry, I’m not saying this very well,” he said nervously, taking a quick look at the Minister.

“You’re doing perfectly well, Mr. Potter. Please, go on,” Madam Bones said.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore who was smiling, looking quite pleased about something. He nodded slightly when Harry caught his eye. Harry took a deep breath and went on. “So, for instance, these attacks — the ones shown in light blue — all happened on the morning of the 15th. These shown in green were mid-day on the 15th. These in yellow were the evening of the 15th.” He touched the map and followed one colour of spots with his hand as he went on. “If you look at these patterns carefully, you can see that they form sort of a spiral pattern out from a central point. It would take more analysis than I can do here — and I’m not the strategist, Ron is. You might want him to look at this, as well — but it seems to me that the Dementors have to nest or rest or hide somewhere. I think the centres of these spirals may be those hiding places. If we can determine where they are, those places could be raided and the Dementors captured.”

Many shocked and scoffing exclamations rolled around the room as the Cabinet expressed their disbelief. “You can’t predict what a Dementor will do, you stupid boy!” one man blustered.

“There’s a pattern here,” Harry insisted. “Look at the times. They go out at morning, noon, evening, and night. Four times a day. They’re . . . they’re feeding,” he concluded, surprising himself with the logical explanation that had just popped into his head. “Breakfast, lunch, dinner and a bedtime snack.”

More noises and rude comments came from several Cabinet members, but others had grown silent and were looking at Harry thoughtfully.

“Silence!” Madam Bones snapped. “I asked Mr. Potter to tell me what he saw on that map. I will hear him out with no further interruptions!”

“Could I have a piece of parchment and a quill?” Harry asked suddenly, bending closer to the map.

Dumbledore stood up and got some parchment, a quill and an ink pot off of his desk, setting them on the table nearest the map for Harry to use. He stood looking over Harry’s shoulder for a moment.

“Do you see it?” Harry asked his mentor, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I do see the pattern you mentioned, yes,” Dumbledore said. He patted Harry on the shoulder. “Well done, lad. Carry on.”

Harry gave him a brief smile, then went back to studying the spots on the map. He began making a diagram of some of the patterns, studying it carefully, then perusing the map closely again. He looked up at the Auror and said, “Some of these marks are Death Eater attacks, right?” The man nodded. “Can you mark them separately, so they stand out from the Dementor attacks, and also mark what happened at each attach? For instance, were people killed, or kidnapped, were there children kidnapped, were there people of certain occupations taken, that kind of thing?”

“Yes, I can do that. Hang on,” Whittier said, digging out a parchment from his bag. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s just a feeling I have,” Harry said quietly. “I want to see if I’m right before I say too much.”

“I respect that,” the man said with a smile. He went through the parchment in his hands and spent quite a while revising the map to reflect the information Harry wanted. Harry watched him with interest.

Meanwhile, the Cabinet was getting restless. “Why are we here? Why are we listening to the prattling of a schoolboy?” Dorking demanded. “My time is valuable. This is ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t,” Minister Bones insisted. “You are a member of the Ministry’s Cabinet. As such, you are required to participate in meetings like this one. If you don’t like it, I’d be happy to accept your resignation so I can replace you with someone who isn’t so disruptive!”

“Minister Bones!” the man blustered. “I have been a loyal servant of the Ministry . . . .” He went on for several minutes, growing more and more aggressive in his defence of his service. Other members spoke out, some in support of him, others telling them to shut up, still others saying they didn’t appreciate having to travel so far to have exactly the same kind of meeting they’d been having in London, and some saying they shouldn’t be disturbing Harry as he tried to sort out the pattern he thought he’d seen.

Harry sighed. It was very hard to concentrate with all the noise in the room. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was watching the Cabinet meeting dissolve into name calling with a benign smile on his face. Harry was surprised to see his headmaster wink at him again. Harry went back to work on the patterns and then shook his head.

“Professor, could we get Ron up here? He’s much better at this kind of thing than I am,” Harry said, his hands now full of several parchments he’d made notations on.

“Minister?” Dumbledore said politely. “May Ron Weasley join us? Harry is correct, Mr. Weasley would be an excellent resource.” He ignored the huff of disdain coming from Percy’s corner.

“Yes, please do invite him,” she said with a smile. Her patience with her Cabinet was growing thin, but she could tell Harry felt he was on to something, and she wanted to know what it was.

Dumbledore wrote a note to Ron, asking him to come up right away, and reminding him to put his medals on before he came, then handed it to Fawkes to deliver.

Harry continued to work on his notes, scratching his head as he tried to force his brain to ferret out the pattern he instinctively knew was there. His head snapped up when he heard the spiral staircase beginning to move.

“Ron’s here, sir,” he said. “May I go and tell him what’s going on?”

“Yes, please do,” Dumbledore said, turning his attention back to the Cabinet’s scrappy attempts at doing business. He was finding the show both sad and amusing. He glanced up at Merlin, and smiled. Merlin was listening avidly, his head moving to follow the conversation, his eyes bright and attentive. The bird saw Dumbledore looking at him and cocked his head, obviously intrigued by the proceedings. Dumbledore smiled and nodded at the phoenix, who nodded back briefly, then went back to trying to follow the many discussions flying across the room.

Harry went out onto the landing, meeting Ron when he got to the top of the stairs.

“Thanks for coming,” Harry said with a relieved smile. “I need your help.”

“What’s going on?” Ron said, perplexed. “Why did I have to get dressed up?” he added, gesturing at his ribbons, which he’d put on in such haste that they were all crooked.

“Hang on,” Harry said as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron’s ribbons, straightening the line to perfection. “That’s better. There’s a meeting inside of the Ministry of Magic’s Cabinet,” he said.

Ron blanched. “What do they want with me? And thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. You’re not in any trouble. I’m trying to find — oh, just come with me and I’ll show you what we’re doing. This lot don’t get along well. Don’t let anything they say get under your skin,” Harry warned as he opened the door. He held it nearly closed for a moment and added in a whisper, “I should warn you, Percy’s in there. He’s taking the minutes. And he’s not in a friendly mood.”

Ron nodded, then followed Harry into the room. He glanced around at the gathering of adults, most of whom were looking rather grumpy, then at his headmaster.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Weasley,” Madam Bones said graciously. “I hope you and Mr. Potter can help us with this situation.”

Ron turned his puzzled eyes to Harry’s. “Huh?”

“Come here, mate, let me explain,” Harry said, drawing him over to the map. Soon both young men had their heads together, studying the tiny notations on the spots on the map, referring to and revising the charts Harry had begun, and talking in soft voices.

“And exactly how much longer are we supposed to sit here while they do whatever it is they’re doing?” Dorking sneered.

“As long as it takes,” Madam Bones said. “If you would stop complaining, we could get these other matters resolved.” She went back to a discussion the Cabinet had been having about allocating more funds for the Aurors’ pursuit of the Death Eaters.

Some time later, Harry turned to face the Minister again. “If you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, we need to make some calculations. It would be easier to do in another room where we can spread things out on the table. May I use that workroom?” he said, looking at Dumbledore and tilting his head toward the room that was his when he stayed with Dumbledore.

“By all means, go ahead,” Minister Bones said.

“Yes, you may use that room, Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “Do you need anything?”

“More parchment, I think,” Harry said, gathering up the sheets of parchment they’d already covered with notes. “And may we take this map with us?”

“Of course,” Whittier said, handing it to Harry.

“Thanks. We’ll be back in a bit.” He and Ron went into his room and spread the parchments and map on the work table. “What do you see?” Harry asked Ron.

“I see the patterns you mentioned. And I see the timetable, as well,” Ron said, making some notes. “I think it would be useful if we . . . um . . . .” He stopped talking and began writing some kind of formula on the parchment. “Hmmm,” he muttered, staring at what he’d written, then looking back at Harry’s notes again. “Yeah. Um . . . .”

Harry studied their notes and the map himself, knowing Ron was working on the same thing with a completely different approach.

“Hey, mate,” Ron said finally, “I think I’m on to something.” He showed Harry his findings and Harry grinned.

“That’s exactly why I wanted you involved. I knew this could be done, but I couldn’t think how to do it. It didn’t help that they were all yelling most of the time I was trying to work, but still — this is brilliant, Ron! C’mon, let’s go tell them what we’ve worked out.”

The two young men re-entered the office to find the Cabinet still wrestling with each other verbally. Harry had no idea how they ever got anything done.

“Have you found something?” Madam Bones asked with interest.

“Yes, I think so,” Harry said. He set up the map and went through his notes again. “All right. As I said before, there’s a pattern to the Dementors attacks. Morning, noon, dinner and bedtime attacks, as if they’re feeding — which they probably are. The attacks spiral outward from a central point for four and a half days — and then they stop. The next day, attacks begin in a new area. So they’re moving their camps every fifth day. Each attack is a certain distance farther out on this spiralling path than the previous one. They’re being fairly consistent with this. There are two things we think you can do with this information. You can work your way back to the centre and find where they’re hiding, or you can move forward and anticipate where the next attack is coming.”

The Cabinet members muttered in shock and disbelief.

“That’s impossible,” Dorking said dismissively. “You can’t know such things.”

“We’ve analyzed the data and . . .” Ron began.

“Isn’t his father that nutter who loves Muggles?” Dorking commented snidely to the man on his left.

Harry turned to the annoying man, his patience at an end. “There’s no reason for you to be so disruptive,” he said, “nor to insult my friend and his dad. We’re trying to help, and you’re making it very difficult for us to explain what we’ve found.”

“Nobody wants to hear the natterings of a couple of school boys,” the man said dismissively.

Harry ground his teeth, his eyes flashing furiously. “Mr. Dorking, either be part of the solution or be quiet!”

The man’s face turned purple. “You can’t speak to me that way!”

“I. Just. Did,” Harry snapped, his body tense and ready. He sensed a real adversary in this man. He kept his eyes on the man’s hands. One false move and Harry’s wand would be pointed at his heart.

“Everyone, please, calm down,” Madam Bones began.

“This whelp has no idea who he’s dealing with!” Dorking blustered. “And his theories are a complete waste of our time!”

Harry’s temper flared. “You lot asked for my help, and I’m trying to give it to you. But you keep interrupting, making it impossible for me to work things out in the first place, or tell you what I’ve worked out now that Ron and I have managed it! You insist on spending all of your time posturing and pontificating and not doing anything to solve the problems the wizarding world is facing! I thought the Ministry was supposed to have the public’s interests in mind, but you lot seem to only be concerned about your own welfare, not in what will keep the public safe.” He glared around him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean any disrespect. But if you want our help, then give us a chance to tell you what we’ve found without being interrupted. And you had no reason to make a rude comment about Ron’s dad,” he added, glaring at Dorking again.

“Nothing you have to say interests us,” Dorking sneered in a flash of temper. “You’re just a misguided, publicity-seeking troublemaker. And Arthur Weasley is a joke.”

“Mr. Dorking!” Madam Bones said, both shocked and angry now herself. “Calm yourself. You are entirely out of order, sir!”

Something clicked in Harry’s brain. “Push up your sleeves,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice.

“What?” the man said, his face going from purple to white in a heartbeat.

“I said, push up your sleeves,” Harry repeated, his wand in his hand so quickly no one noticed the movement that placed it there.

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Dorking is a member of the Cabinet and should be treated with due respect,” Madam Bones said, appalled at Harry’s sudden aggression.

“Get him to push up his sleeves and I’ll apologize like a good boy,” Harry replied through clenched teeth.

“Why do you want his sleeves pushed up?” Madam Bones said.

“To look for the Dark Mark,” Harry replied, which caused many people in the room to gasp.

“I don’t have the Dark Mark!” Dorking snarled.

“Prove it! Just push up your sleeves!” Harry demanded, beginning to advance on the man. “Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you, you scar-faced freak!” Dorking barked, half-rising from his chair.

“Sit down and shut up,” Harry ordered the man, pointing his wand at the man’s heart now. “Push up your sleeves! I’m tired of waiting!”

“Dumbledore, call him off!” another man cried.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, enjoying the show. “No,” he said simply.

“No?” the man gasped.

“No,” Dumbledore repeated. “It would be in Mr. Dorking’s best interests to show us his arm.”

Finally losing patience, Harry pointed his wand at Dorking’s left arm and made the sleeve move up magically. A Dark Mark was revealed, causing pandemonium in the room. Whittier rushed up to Dorking and held him at wandpoint.

“Well done, Potter,” Whittier said. “How did you know?”

“Instinct,” Harry replied, still holding his wand on the man. “Just to be safe, let’s see everyone’s arms. Sleeves up, please. I mean no disrespect, but I, for one, need to know who I’m dealing with.” Nearly all of the Cabinet members willingly bared their forearms, but two others were reluctant. Harry glared at them and one man slowly pushed up his sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark. The other man refused to move his sleeve, but Madam Bones used her wand to lift his sleeve magically.

“Three Death Eaters in the Cabinet?” she said, appalled. All three were holdovers from the previous administration. “Mr. Whittier, please take these men into custody.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong!” one of the prisoners cried.

“You have taken the Dark Mark,” Madam Bones said sternly. “That in itself is something ‘wrong.’ You’ll have a hearing at a future date. For now, you no longer have the security clearance required to be in this meeting.” She turned to Dumbledore. “May we use one of your dungeons for a while?”

“To hold these prisoners? Certainly,” Dumbledore replied with maddening serenity.

When the men were removed and relative calm restored, Madam Bones looked at Harry with new respect. “How did you know?”

“I suspected Dorking from the moment I met him,” Harry said with a shrug. “Then I noticed a pattern in the way your meeting was being disrupted. The same three men always interrupted or argued, and their points were rarely good ones. They seemed to be arguing simply to argue. So either they were gits, or they had a hidden agenda. I thought it best to be safe.”

“I agree,” she said with a tired smile. In one fell swoop, Harry had cleaned the worst troublemakers out of her Cabinet, something she’d been trying to do since taking office. “You were going to tell us your findings?”

“One second,” Harry said, remembering something. He crossed the room and stood in front of Percy Weasley. “Let’s see your arms, Percy.”

Percy blanched. “What? Why me?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t shown us your arms. If you have nothing to hide, you won’t mind pushing up your sleeves,” Harry said as reasonably as he could manage, but his wand was still held loosely in his hand.

Percy’s face reddened in anger as he shoved up both sleeves, revealing white, freckled arms with no Dark Mark. “There. Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you,” Harry said, turning back to the map and giving Whittier a wan half-smile as the man returned from taking his prisoners to the dungeons. “Maybe we can get something accomplished now.”

He looked at the map for a moment, as if he was planning to get back to his explanation, then glanced around the room and shook his head, finally turning to face the Minister.

“Madam Bones, you were an Auror. How could you not know you had three Death Eaters in your Cabinet?” he said, watching her closely.

She sighed. “A background check was run on every Cabinet member when he or she was being considered for the Cabinet,” she explained. “If that check was clear, then the person could be appointed to the Cabinet. Cornelius Fudge didn’t require as stringent a background check as I do. And the way our government is set up, the Cabinet stays in place when there’s a change in Minister between elections, to try to have as smooth a transition as possible, so I inherited his Cabinet when I became Minister. When I took office, I required each member of the government to show his left forearm, but since they stood in line for that inspection, they had time to create a Glamour Charm to hide the Mark. I will institute some changes in our policies after this experience.”

“OK. I just wondered,” Harry said mildly. “Thanks.” He turned back the map and stared at it, trying to pick up where he’d left off. “Rats. Ron, where were we?”

Harry’s approach to Percy had truly frightened Ron. What if his own brother bore a Dark Mark? He was glad Harry had forced the issue, and relieved to see Percy’s pale arms were unmarked. If Percy had taken the Dark Mark, Ron didn’t know how his parents would survive such a blow. The very thought had sent his mind reeling. Now Ron gulped, forcing himself back to business. “Erm . . . you told them what we’d discovered about the pattern, and what could be done with that knowledge.”

“Oh yeah! Thanks, mate,” Harry said, looking relieved. He was still dizzy with the knowledge that there had been three Death Eaters in the Ministry’s cabinet all this time, that they’d been receiving confidential information from the Ministry meetings they attended and most likely then passed it on to Voldemort. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Ron, can you . . .?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Ron said, having managed to settle himself. He could see Harry’s mind wasn’t on the task at hand. He took a deep breath, then turned to face the Minister. “What we learned from studying these patterns, as Harry said, was that we can predict where the next attacks will be. It will be lunch time in about an hour. If you can get Aurors to these five areas,” he said, pointing at spots he and Harry had placed on the map, “before then, you might be able to protect people from the Dementors’ attacks.”

“You’re kidding,” Whittier breathed, looking at the map more closely. He looked up at Ron. “How sure are you of this?”

“I can’t say it’s a certainty, but they move every five days — this is the second day in these locations. They should follow their pattern unless it’s been interrupted for some reason,” Ron explained.

“I need to send some messages to get the Aurors in place so we can capture them. May I borrow some owls?” Whittier said, looking at Dumbledore urgently.

“You may borrow my phoenix,” Dumbledore said, gesturing to Fawkes. “He is much faster than any owl, and he can go to several locations on the same trip, all very quickly.”

“Thank you,” Whittier said, then began working on the message he was going to send out.

“You can capture Dementors?” Harry asked Whittier curiously.

“Oh, yes. That’s how the Ministry controlled them when they used to work for us guarding Azkaban Prison and doing other jobs, as well,” the man replied.

“I’d like to learn that spell!” Harry breathed.

“Me, too!” Ron said, equally awed.

“You’ll learn it in Auror School, lads,” Whittier assured them with a smile.

“Wicked!” Ron said, grinning happily.

“If you manage to stop or capture one group, won’t that make the others move, or change their patterns?” Minister Bones asked curiously.

Harry was back on track now. “These groups are widely separated. I think it’s unlikely they’re in communication with each other. Voldemort might send messages to them and get them to work together, or call them to him to do a mass attack, but right now, they seem to be on their own, each group staying in a certain region, a good distance from any others. I suspect it’s similar to animals staking out territories. Each of these groups has claimed that area as their territory. Until he needs them for something specific, Voldemort’s probably happy to let them do as they wish as long as they’re causing trouble, which they are.” He gazed at the map again. “It would be best if you can catch them all at once. They might share information once they know someone’s anticipating where they’ll attack next. But if we go after them quickly, try to capture them all today, during one of the next two or three feedings, it should be okay, I think.” He shrugged. “Of course, this is all speculation. . . .”

“But it’s the best suggestion anyone’s come up with,” Madam Bones said stoutly. “Mr. Whittier, what else do you need?”

“We need more manpower,” Whittier said. “We should probably use everyone with Auror experience. The desk jockeys, the instructors at the school, call in the retired Aurors . . .”

“Do it,” she instructed. “Mr. Weasley, help Mr. Whittier to get the orders drafted. I’ll sign whatever you need.” Percy and Whittier soon had their heads together making copies of the message and a list of all the necessary recipients.

“If it’s too much for Fawkes to do quickly, you can use Merlin too,” Harry offered when he noticed how long they were working on the list of recipients.

”Thanks,” Whittier said. “All right. Fawkes, would you take these? Merlin?” He gave each bird its assignment and the messages to carry then stood back as they flashed out of sight. “Handy having phoenixes around,” he commented with a smile.

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed. “Let’s hope those Aurors can get in place in time. In the meantime, I’ll order up some lunch for us. I imagine you still have more business to discuss, Minister?”

“Yes, we do,” she said. “Thank you.” She looked at Harry and Ron, who had their heads together over the map again. “Mr. Potter? Do you have other ideas?”

“We’re working on the pattern for the Death Eaters,” Harry explained.

“They have a pattern as well?” she said hopefully.

“It’s not as well defined as the one for the Dementors. It’s going to take a bit longer,” Harry said apologetically.

“Anything you can do would be most appreciated,” she said sincerely. She led the Cabinet members in a discussion of some policy matters while the boys worked in Harry’s room again. Harry and Ron emerged a bit later. Harry squatted next to Dumbledore’s chair to have a private word with him.

“We’re not having much luck. Would you mind if we went to the Great Hall for lunch? I need to clear my mind, and I’m sure Ron wouldn’t mind a break either,” Harry said diffidently.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Dumbledore said. “What are you going to say when your friends ask you why you’re wearing your ribbons?”

“That you have an Auror up here we’ve been talking with about Auror School. It’s the truth, after all,” Harry said with a cheeky smile.

“Yes, it is,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

“May we take the map with us in case something strikes us while we’re out? We won’t let anyone else see it,” Ron promised, hunkering down next to Harry. “Well, except for the girls, unless you object.”

Dumbledore looked from one boy to the other, then at Whittier, who was watching curiously. “Mr. Whittier, if we might have a word?”

“Is there a problem, Professor?” Madam Bones said, interrupting a heated discussion she was having with the Cabinet over some policy matters.

“No, no problem,” Dumbledore assured her as Whittier moved to stand by Dumbledore’s seat. Dumbledore rose and led the other three aside. He explained to Whittier that the boys wanted to go to lunch and take the map with them. “I see no problem with their request. Harry and Ron know how to be careful with such things. But it’s up to you,” he told Whittier.

Whittier looked at the boys, then at the map in their hands. “Let me take some of the markings off of it,” he said after a moment.” You can remember what the colours stand for, right?”

“Yes,” Harry assured him. Ron nodded his agreement.

“All right. I’ll put these notations back when you return,” Whittier said.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said sincerely. “Oh, could you remove the Dementor patterns and just leave the Death Eater attacks? That might make things easier for us.”

“Certainly,” Whittier said, changing the markings on the map with a wave of his wand and a quiet incantation.

“Thanks,” Harry said. “We’ll try to be back quickly, but we just . . .”

“Believe me, if I could get out of here to clear my head, I would,” Whittier said with a grin. “Enjoy your break.”

“We will!” Harry said, returning the man’s grin.

Dumbledore smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder. “Have a good lunch and rejoin us when you can.”

“Yes, Professor,” he said, then led Ron out of the office.


* * * * *


In the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry and Ron stopped and looked down the Gryffindor Table, trying to find the girls. “There they are,” Harry said as Ginny moved a bit and her long red mane flashed on Neville’s far side. The boys hurried down the Great Hall and plunked themselves down on the seats next to their girlfriends.

“Hi!” Harry said brightly, giving Ginny’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Hi, yourself! All finished?” she said with a smile as she handed him a platter of devilled eggs.

“Not by a long shot,” he replied, piling his plate up with food. Ron already had his mouth too full for any kind of intelligible speech.

“Why are you two dressed up?” Neville asked curiously.

“Erm,” Harry began intelligently, “we’ve been talking with a man from the Auror Office.”

“Really? Cool! Why is he here?” Neville said with an eager smile.

“Just going over stuff with us,” Harry said off-handedly.

“But I thought you two were already accepted to the program and all,” Neville said, confused.

“Oh, we are! There’s no problem,” Harry hastened to assure him. “But this man came to see Professor Dumbledore on some Ministry business and Dumbledore is letting us chat with him to learn more about the program, the day-to-day operations, and so on.”

“Cool,” Neville said with a smile. “What have you learned?”

Harry thought a minute. What had he learned that he could share? “Erm . . . oh, yeah! We learned there’s a spell to actually capture and control Dementors! That’s how the Ministry controlled them when the Dementors guarded Azkaban.”

“You’re kidding! They can be controlled? And even captured?” Neville was astonished.

Harry grinned. “Yeah! Cool, huh? He said we’d learn that spell in Auror School. I wanted him to teach it to us, but I suppose it’s too complex to learn in a short time.”

“What’s he like? Is he nice?” Neville pressed.

“Yeah, he seems to be,” Harry replied. “Neville, we’ve only got a short time to eat before we have to go back, sorry. We’ll tell you more later, OK?”

“Oh, yeah, sure! OK! Sorry!” Neville said, blushing a bit. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“No, it’s OK, really,” Harry assured him. “We’ve just got to rush, that’s all.”

“OK,” the other boy replied, looking relieved.

Harry looked at Ron and said, “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we take our sandwiches outside and enjoy the sunshine while we have the chance?”

“Huh?” Ron said, his mouth crammed with several things at once. “Bwha fub?”

“Just swallow, grab a handful of food and follow me, OK?” Harry said, chuckling at his best mate’s dilemma. “Ladies? Would you like to join us?”

“Yes, of course!” Hermione said. She’d been puzzled when Harry suggested he and Ron eat outside, but the look Harry had given Ron had told her a lot. They wanted to talk to the girls but couldn’t with other people nearby. “Here, Ron, let me put those in a napkin for you,” she said, gathering up things Ron was trying to hold in his hands. Ginny was making a similar bundle for Harry.

Soon the four of them were outside, still nibbling on their lunches as they sat down and leaned against the castle wall, which was warm from the bright sunshine.

“So what’s up, Harry?” Hermione urged. “You seemed to want to tell us something.”

Harry quickly told her and Ginny about the meeting, the map, everything, with Ron filling in the gaps here and there.

“You yelled at Cabinet members?” Hermione squeaked.

“There were Death Eaters in the Cabinet?” Ginny cried at the same time.

“Yes, to both!” Harry replied. “And I’d do it again! But here’s the thing. There’s a pattern to the Death Eater movement, too. I can feel it, but I just can’t see it!”

“We have the map with us,” Ron said, glancing around. They were alone in one end of the courtyard. “Do you want to have a look? Maybe you can see the pattern. We’re just seeing spots in front of our eyes now, we’ve been staring at it for so long.”

“Yes, of course, we’d like to look!” Hermione said eagerly. She and Ginny leaned over the map Ron spread on the ground, careful to keep the boys’ food away from the parchment. Once Harry explained the meaning of the various spots, the girls just gazed at the map silently.

Hermione was the first to speak, after being lost in thought for several minutes. “These are all Death Eater attacks?”

“Yes. He took the Dementor attack markings off of the map so they wouldn’t confuse us,” Ron told her.

“There are so many,” Ginny breathed, shaking her head in dismay.

“If we can find a pattern and anticipate where they might hit next,” Harry said seriously, “we might be able to prevent more attacks. Can you see anything?” He watched Hermione’s and Ginny’s faces as they studied the map, then sat back and thought about what they’d seen.

“It would help to know the times of these attacks,” Hermione said quietly.

“I can put them back,” Harry said, waving his hand over the map.

“How did you do that?” Ron said, aghast. “Whittier took those off!”

“I watched his spell and just reversed it,” Harry said casually. “I’ll keep watch. You lot study it. I know the markings now quite well. That helped me put them back.” His eyes roved around the courtyard watching for anyone approaching them, just glancing at his friends’ faces from time to time. “Anything?” he prompted after a while.

“I can see there’s something there,” Hermione said cautiously, “but I . . . it’s difficult.”

“Their attacks are much more widely spread than the Dementors,” Harry replied, “in part, I believe, because they’re Apparating to the places they attack. That’s going to make it harder to find the pattern.”

Ron was studying Hermione’s face. “What do you see, Hermione?” he asked quietly.

She was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “I see a lot of heartache, a lot of sadness . . . and no real pattern.”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry sighed. “I kept trying to find a pattern, but it’s just not there, is it?”

“There’s something . . .” Ginny said hesitantly.

“What do you see?” Harry prompted. “Did you find the pattern?”

“Not exactly a pattern,” she said, running her fingers lightly over the spots on the map. “More of a . . . decrease in activity.”

“What do you mean?” Harry said, bending over the map himself.

“See here? They were kidnapping people with green eyes frequently here, but then those kidnappings became spaced out at a regular interval,” she said, pointing to various notations. “But here,” she said, pointing to the notations of more recent kidnappings, “they’ve slowed down.”

“Damn,” Harry said. “I knew I saw a pattern somewhere, but I was going about it all wrong. Well spotted!”

Ginny beamed at him, then said, “I don’t know what it means, though.”

Harry stared at the notations until spots danced in front of his eyes. “I can’t make heads or tails of it,” he said finally. “I’ve been looking at it too long, I think.”

“Me, too,” Ron said, sitting back and stretching. “It makes no sense to me.”

Hermione pulled out a scrap of parchment and began making notes on it.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. “What have you found?”

She held up a finger, warning him to leave her alone for a bit. Harry, Ron and Ginny sat quietly, watching Hermione work, her quill flying over the parchment as she made notes and scratched them out, drew lines and diagrams and scratched those out before beginning again. Finally, she sat back, a satisfied smile on her face. “There! That’s it, I think.”

“What’s it?” Ron said, leaning over her shoulder.

“The pattern. They kidnapped green-eyed people at random intervals at first, then started kidnapping them at regular intervals, spaced about two weeks apart. Then there was the big kidnapping that Harry saw in his vision, where they captured seventeen Muggle children. That happened right here,” she said, putting her finger on a cluster of yellow spots on the map. “There was another kidnapping two weeks later, and since then, they’ve been doing them once a month, and then only one or two at a time, not so many people at once the way they used to do.” She looked around at her friends. “I don’t know what it means, but there’s your pattern.”

“It means he’s perfected his potion and his eyes last a month at a time now,” Harry said darkly.

“Oh, you’re right! How could I have been so stupid? I should have seen that,” Hermione said, so completely engrossed in research that she didn’t notice the horrified shudder running through Harry’s body.

Harry swallowed the bile at the back of his throat and forced himself to be calm. “That’s great, Hermione,” he said sincerely. “Thanks a lot. I was hoping the pattern would help us catch them or stop more attacks, but I don’t see how we can extrapolate where they’ll hit next from this information. It just doesn’t work the way the Dementor patterns did.”

“Hey, mate, at least we know what the pattern is now,” Ron said supportively. “That’s something.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “I wonder where he’s getting his unicorn blood, since Hagrid’s keeping the Forest’s unicorns in the paddock? Dumbledore put all kinds of protections there so they couldn’t be captured or killed.”

“Perhaps he has a European supplier,” Hermione suggested. “There are unicorns in France and Austria and the Netherlands.”

“Other places as well, most likely,” Ron agreed.

“Well, whatever the case, we’ve done all we can here,” Harry said, Vanishing the markings from the map and rolling it up as he got to his feet. “I really appreciate your help,” he said to Hermione and Ginny, “and our picnic was fun, too. Thanks.” The four friends walked back into the castle, pausing in the corridor where their ways would part.

“I’m just glad we were able to help,” Hermione said sincerely. “So you have to go back to the meeting now?”

“Yeah, we’d better get moving. We’ve been gone quite a while,” Harry said, sliding the map into his pocket. “See you later.” He and Ron waved at the girls, then started back toward the headmaster’s office. They were walking along talking quietly when Blaise Zabini and his cronies blocked the corridor ahead. Harry and Ron started to walk around them without saying anything, but Zabini had other ideas.

“You think you’re so friggin’ special,” Zabini growled. “Why are you so dolled up? Why weren’t you in class, Potter? Why did you get called out of class, Weasley? What’s going on?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Zabini,” Harry said quietly, watching the Slytherin boys carefully as he tried to move past them. “Budge over.”

“No!” Zabini said defiantly. “What are you two up to?”

“What we’re ‘up to’ is giving you and your friends detention if you don’t move,” Ron said sternly.

“You can’t do that!” Zabini snarled.

“As big as I am, and with ginger hair and all, you’d think you might remember me? I’m the one who wears the Head Boy badge, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Ron said, trying to keep things light, but his tone was mocking despite his best efforts.

“Don’t you mock me!” Zabini cried, pulling his wand.

“Put that away!” came a slow, measured voice. “Why are you disturbing my class?” Firenze the Centaur appeared in a nearby doorway, with a forested background showing through the door behind him. Harry hadn’t noticed that they were near the Centaur’s classroom.

“Freak!” Zabini muttered as he turned away.

“That’s a week’s detention, Zabini,” Ron said sternly. “Firenze, may I give him the detention with you?”

“Certainly, Mr. Weasley,” Firenze replied, smiling at Ron and Harry. He turned his strange, bright blue eyes on Zabini and his friends. “It would be my pleasure to deal with this young one. He has not learned proper manners nor respect. We shall work on that during your detentions, Mr. Zabini.”

Blaise was furious, his face mottled red and white. He blanched when Firenze leaned close to him and spoke to him very softly indeed.

“You will not be rude to other students again, nor to me, not after I’ve taught you a few things,” Firenze murmured coldly, his face mere inches from Zabini’s, his tail lashing furiously. “Now leave!”

As the Slytherins raced down the hall, Firenze turned amused eyes to Harry and Ron. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I have long wished to teach that one some manners.”

“And he needs it!” Ron said with a grin. “Thanks, Firenze.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot!” Harry agreed.

“Harry Potter,” Firenze said, reaching out and grasping Harry’s shoulder in a firm grip, “you are in the midst of great things. I have seen it in the stars.”

“What have they told you?” Harry said, hoping the stars spoke more clearly to Firenze than they ever did when he tried to read them himself.

“You are on the cusp. You face great trials, great tragedies, and great triumphs. Do not lose heart, for many marvellous things lie ahead for you.” The Centaur released Harry’s shoulder and nodded sagely. “It is written in the stars. So it is written. So it shall be.”

“Can I just skip over that whole ‘trials and tragedies’ part?” Harry said with a half-hearted smile.

“There is a saying I have heard among men, Harry Potter. ‘That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.’”

“Yes, I’ve heard that one,” Harry said with a sigh.

“And of those who are given great gifts, great things are expected.”

“I’ve heard that one too,” Harry agreed.

“They were written about you, Harry Potter,” Firenze said seriously.

Harry felt like laughing, but knowing Firenze as he did, he refrained. “Those are ancient sayings, Firenze. Nobody knew about me then.”

“Nevertheless, Harry Potter, they were written about you.”

“Uh . . . OK. Thanks,” Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

“Have a good day, Harry Potter,” Firenze said with a smile. “You see? I am learning the manners of humans, so they will be comfortable with me.”

“I’m comfortable with you, Firenze,” Harry assured him. “You have a good day too.” With a wave, he and Ron hurried down the corridor toward Dumbledore’s office again.

“That was weird,” Ron breathed as they turned a corner.

“Yeah. Those were written about me?” Harry said with a nervous chuckle. “Those sayings are really old!”

“Yeah, but think how well they apply to your life, Harry,” Ron said seriously.

“That’s enough Divination stuff for now, OK?” Harry said uneasily. He saw Tonks rushing down the hall toward them. “Now what?”

“Oh, Harry! There you are! Hi, Ron!” Tonks said as she ran to them, totally out of breath.

“What’s wrong, Tonks?” Harry said, concerned.

“It’s a bloody awful mess, is what it is,” she growled. She looked around, then pulled the boys to the side of the hall. “Dumbledore sent for me. He asked me to protect you.”

“WHAT?” Harry said in shock. “From what? Or who? What’s going on?”

“The Cabinet. They’re fighting like mad up there,” she said, obviously worried. “I went to his office when I arrived in case you’d already returned. I couldn’t believe how they were behaving.”

“Fighting about what? Start at the beginning,” Harry urged her. “Did the Aurors capture the Dementors, or did it all go wrong?”

“We caught them, all of them!” she said excitedly. “There may be the odd one still loose out there, but we caught all of the Dementors in each group, Harry. Your pattern thing was brilliant!”

“Wow! That’s great! So why is the Cabinet fighting, then?”

“Some of them think you had inside information, and the whole meeting turned really ugly after that,” she said with a grimace. “Dumbledore didn’t want you coming up there unaware.”

“I can take care of myself!” Harry said vehemently. “And what about Dumbledore? Is he OK?”

“He’s fine. He’s busy doing the diplomatic thing, you know,” she said with a shrug.

“Is Ron in trouble too?” Harry said suddenly. Ron had watched this exchange in total silence, his face growing more grim by the moment.

“I don’t know,” Tonks said honestly.

“I’m the one who came up with the calculations to find where they’d hit next,” Ron said darkly. “So I’m in trouble too.”

“That’s just stupid! We help them get rid of the Dementors and they’re angry with us?” Harry said, highly offended.

“Nobody ever said politicians were logical,” Tonks said wisely. “Now come on. You boys have been gone longer than they expected. They think you took off with the map.”

“It’s right here, and there’s nothing showing on it anyway,” Harry said testily. He and Ron took off down the hall, Tonks doing her best to keep up.

When they arrived at Dumbledore’s office, they stepped into a scene of mayhem. Cabinet members were standing up and shouting in each others’ faces, some supporting Harry, others vilifying him, and still others arguing about a wide variety of other topics.

“SILENCE!” Madam Bones cried when she saw Harry. “Everyone sit down. I will have order in this meeting or heads will roll!”

“Does she mean that literally?” Ron whispered hopefully in Harry’s ear, making Harry snigger.

“Did you have something to say, Mr. Weasley?” Madam Bones asked Ron imperiously.

“Erm . . . no,” he said meekly.

“I do,” Harry said, striding boldly into the centre of the office. “I understand you’ve captured all the Dementors?” he said to Whittier.

“Yes, we have. You and Mr. Weasley are to be commended on your brilliant work,” Whittier said with a genuine smile.

“If that’s true, why was everyone yelling when we got here, then?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Erm . . . .” Whittier seemed to be at a loss.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, sit down, please,” Madam Bones said, gesturing to chairs.

“I’d rather stand, thank you,” Harry said grimly as he studied the faces around him. Some were friendly, some admiring, some openly hostile. Ron stood at an angle at his shoulder, Tonks at his back, the three of them all facing out in a protective triangle.

“As you wish. The Ministry would like to thank you young men for your part in our capture of the Dementors,” she said with a smile. “Brilliant work, gentlemen, truly.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, hoping she’d explain what was going on soon.

“Who is that woman, and why is she here?” one of the belligerent Cabinet members demanded, pointing at Tonks.

“I’m Tonks Lupin. I’m an Auror as well as Harry’s godmother. I’m here to look after his best interests,” Tonks said boldly. The belligerent man subsided somewhat. Whittier grinned at Tonks and she winked back at him.

“Welcome, Mrs. Lupin,” Madam Bones said smoothly. “I appreciate your coming.” She turned back to Harry. “There was some contention among the Cabinet members about how you came to such conclusions when our experts haven’t managed it despite months of concerted effort,” she said quietly.

“You lot all saw what happened,” Harry said, turning slowly to look at each man in turn. He paid close attention to which ones refused to meet his eyes, and which ones met his eyes defiantly. “Mr. Whittier showed us the map and I saw a pattern in it. Then Ron and I spent a long time working out how to project that pattern to anticipate where the Dementors would attack next. You saw us work on it.”

“As I’ve explained several times now,” Dumbledore said patiently, “sometimes fresh eyes can catch something that has eluded those who’ve worked on a project steadily. I believe that’s what happened in this case. Harry had no prior knowledge of the Dementors’ movements or plans.”

Harry’s was incensed. “How could you think that I would know about upcoming attacks and not warn people? I’ve been fighting Dementors for years now! What’s wrong with you people?”

“It was just too neat, too pat, how quickly you came up with the right information,” one man said prissily. Others soon raised similar objections.

“QUIET!” Madam Bones cried after repeated attempts to silence the obstreperous Cabinet members. She glared at the troublemakers one after the other. “Can you prove Harry Potter had prior knowledge of any of this? Can you prove any of your allegations?” She asked each of those who’d objected the same questions, getting no straight answers.

“Mr. Potter accused the Cabinet of pontificating earlier today,” Madam Bones said when she’d restored order once more. “He’s right. Some of you are spending far too much time trying to prove how powerful you are, rather than working toward the greater good of our people. That’s going to stop right now.” She got up and stalked slowly around the circle of Cabinet members, stopping in front of three of them. “You’re fired,” she said in each case.

“You can’t do that!” cried a woman whose sharp tongue had caused a great deal of strife.

“I just did,” Madam Bones said with satisfaction. “Mr. Whittier, would you take them in that other room and debrief them so they can go home?” Whittier nodded. “Mrs. Lupin, perhaps you’d like to help?”

“Oh, yeah!” Tonks said eagerly, following Whittier to the room where Harry and Ron had worked out the patterns earlier.

Harry and Ron sat down beside Dumbledore. “What’s going on?” Harry asked quietly.

“A long-overdue housecleaning,” Dumbledore said with satisfaction. “Watch and learn, Harry, watch and learn.”

Harry and Ron sat back and watched as Madam Bones spoke with other Cabinet members, then moved over to speak to Percy.

“Mr. Weasley, may I see the minutes for the past hour?” she said, holding out her hand.

Percy gulped, then handed her the minutes with shaking hands.

“I thought so,” she muttered as she browsed Percy’s notes. “Mr. Weasley, you have not transcribed minutes of the meeting we’ve had here. You’ve written only parts of it, and when these parts are read, they paint an entirely unrealistic picture of the meeting and the characters of the people involved. This is not the first time you’ve done such a thing, but it’s certainly the most blatant. You portray Mr. Potter, and even your own brother, as devious, lying, paranoid.” She sighed in exasperation. “I can’t believe I gave you so many chances to reform, and you’ve simply continued on your wayward path. You’re fired, as well, Mr. Weasley. Go and see Mr. Whittier, then return to the Ministry and clear out your desk.”

Percy sat with stricken eyes, his mouth gaping open repeatedly like a fish out of water. Ron’s eyes were huge, going from his brother’s shocked face to Madam Bones’ resolute one.

“Now, Mr. Weasley,” she snapped. Percy gathered up his blank parchments, ink pots and quills and packed everything away haphazardly, then stumbled toward the room where Whittier was dealing with the other now-unemployed people. Percy looked back over his shoulder at the minister, then glared furiously at his brother and Harry before storming out of the room.

“Now, then,” Madam Bones said with a cheerful smile. “We can get some business done!”

“Who will take minutes?” one of the remaining Cabinet members said.

“You will, for now,” she said amiably. “Clerks are easy to come by. We’ll have a new one by evening.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other, knowing how devastated Percy would be to learn he could be replaced so easily. They watched the rest of the proceedings in amazement. Policies Madam Bones had been trying to get ratified for hours suddenly passed with no problem. They didn’t make such progress because everyone agreed with her, but because now they could discuss the pros and cons reasonably without people belittling them for their opinions, or filibustering to the point that nothing was accomplished. Other items on the agenda were quickly dealt with, and she soon called a halt to the meeting.

“Erm . . . Madam Bones?” Harry said hesitantly. “Before everyone leaves? We did find one small pattern in the Death Eater attacks.”

Everyone sat down and gave Harry their full attention.

“Please, go on, Mr. Potter. I’m sorry we didn’t give you the opportunity to speak earlier,” Madam Bones apologized.

“You were all a bit busy,” Harry said diffidently. “Um . . . we found that the only real pattern in the Death Eaters’ attacks is that they are not kidnapping green-eyed people as frequently. The frequency and the number of those kidnapped began decreasing two months ago, and has settled into a pattern of two people kidnapped per month, always Muggles.”

“What does this information tell us? Do you know?” Madam Bones said curiously.

“I believe it tells us that Voldemort’s potion to replace his eyes lasts for about a month at a time now. After a month, he needs to refresh his potion, so he kidnaps more green-eyed people.”

“Why green eyes, Mr. Potter?” an elderly witch asked.

“I don’t really know, but I suspect it’s because I have green eyes,” he said uncomfortably.

“Why does it matter what colour your eyes are?” the witch said, tilting her head in confusion.

“You know he took some of my blood to create his new body,” Harry began. They nodded. “I think he may believe it will make it easier for him to defeat me if he has eyes like mine. It’s not really logical, him thinking that, but I don’t know what other reason there could be.”

“Whatever the reason,” Dumbledore said, “he has been concentrating on green-eyed people for months now. The fact that he’s not collecting as many eyes as he was means he’s stabilized his potion somehow. Well spotted, boys.” Both boys returned his approving smile gratefully.

After some discussion, the meeting ended. Whittier released the fired Cabinet members and Percy, all of whom had been Memory Charmed so they would forget any classified information they’d known. The Auror waved to Harry and Ron as he and Tonks escorted the group out of the office and down the spiral staircase.

As the Cabinet members left the office, Madam Bones turned to Dumbledore, Harry and Ron.

“Professor Dumbledore, I cannot thank you enough for hosting this meeting for us,” she said warmly. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, again, the Ministry of Magic is most grateful for your assistance in solving the Dementor problem. And Mr. Potter, thank you for helping me sort out the problems in the Cabinet itself. The way our government is set up, the Cabinet stays in place when a new Minister is named, and it can be quite difficult to get them out of their positions. You’ve done the Ministry, and me, personally, a great service today. It will be a pleasure to find replacements for these positions. There are a lot of qualified candidates. I can’t wait to start looking at CVs!” She looked as excited as a youngster looking forward to a birthday party. “Good evening, gentleman,” she said with a smile, then left the office.

“That was an interesting day,” Dumbledore said with satisfaction. “Well done, both of you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He looked at Ron uneasily. “What’s wrong, mate?”

“Mum. She’s going to have kittens when she hears,” Ron said, his expression grim.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. “He’s right. Can we warn Mr. Weasley so he can get to her first?”

“I was just going to suggest we contact Arthur,” Dumbledore said. He got out his Famous Wizard card and sent the little photographic Harry off to ask Arthur to call Dumbledore on the Floo Network. Moments later, Arthur’s head appeared in the fire.

“Hello, Albus!” Arthur said cheerfully. “How are you today? Oh, hello, Ron, Harry! You boys aren’t in trouble, are you?” he teased, not expecting any such problem. He suddenly noticed how serious Ron looked and said, “What’s wrong? Is Ginny all right?”

“She’s fine,” Harry said quickly.

“We wanted to tell you something that happened today, Arthur,” Dumbledore said, pulling his chair up close to the fire. “Madam Bones brought the Cabinet here for a meeting. They wanted my input and I simply didn’t feel like going to London — don’t tell them I said that, though,” he said with a chuckle. “I wanted Harry to get more experience in high-level meetings like this, and he and Ron were both quite helpful. I’ll tell you about that in a moment. I need to talk to you about Percy.”

Arthur’s face hardened. “What about him?”

“Madam Bones fired him this afternoon, Arthur,” Dumbledore said gently. “Percy was quite upset.”

“Why did she fire him?”

“He was not taking minutes of the meeting properly. The notes he was taking made the meeting sound quite different to what happened in reality, and made some good people look quite bad. Madam Bones said she’d given him numerous chances and she couldn’t afford to give him any more. I’m sorry. His memory of classified matters has been erased, and he’s been sent to clear out his desk. I thought you’d want to know so you could be the one to tell Molly,” Dumbledore said kindly.

“He was altering the minutes of top-level meetings? He’ll never get a job in the government again!” Arthur said, aghast. Dumbledore nodded. Both boys stayed quiet. Arthur collected himself and said, “Tell me what the boys did that was so helpful. It will be good if Molly can hear good news along with the bad.

“The good news is quite good indeed, Arthur,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Harry noticed a pattern in the Dementor attacks, and Ron worked out a formula to project where and when the next attacks would occur. The Aurors used this information to prevent the next round of attacks and captured all the Dementors!”

Arthur was stunned. “Ron? Is this true?” he said, looking at his youngest son earnestly. Ron nodded, his ears turning pink under his father’s pleased scrutiny. “Well done, lad! And Harry found the patterns in the first place! Oh, this is wonderful! I’m so proud of both of you! Your mother will be delighted, Ron.” He smiled at the boys, then looked back at Dumbledore. “It will be a help to her to hear this news. Thanks for telling me. I’d best be getting home so I can arrive before she hears the news on the wireless. Goodbye!”

“Well, that’s all we can do for now,” Dumbledore said, getting tiredly to his feet. “You boys should try to get some rest this evening. It’s been a stressful day.”

“Yes, it has,” Harry agreed. “Did you have any idea what you were getting me into?”

“I knew there were problems in the Cabinet. I also knew what Whittier was going to present in the meeting today. His presentation is why I wanted you involved. I knew you’d want to know how things were going. I had no idea you’d see a pattern in the attacks. That was just a lucky accident, I suppose,” he said with a smile.

“I suppose,” Harry agreed as he and Ron walked to the office door. “Have a nice evening, Professor.”

“And you, as well,” Dumbledore said, smiling warmly as the boys stepped across the entry and onto the moving spiral staircase.


* * * * *


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