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The Refiner's Fire | ||||||
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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: 381617; Chapter Total: 13955 |
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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 Kelpie, my brilliant Brit-picker, and to Blakevich, Starfox, Iris, Asad and Pilar for beta reading! BTW — below you’ll see the expression “slow as treacle” which to Americans would read “slow as molasses.” Just thought I’d clear that up for those of us who don’t really know what treacle is. And for those who wonder why Alex would ask Harry what he did, pay attention to the fact that Alex is a Ravenclaw. “Research” would be important to the brainiest students in the school, so I think Alex’s questions are quite understandable, coming from a Ravenclaw. You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRef inersFire Ron and Hermione lay wrapped contentedly in each other’s arms, their bodies highlighted by the soft glow from their wands, the Cushioning Charm making the tunnel as comfortable as possible. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Ron said, reaching across her for his jeans. “What?” “I bought you a present.” “What is it?” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It was a get-well present, but now that you’re well, it’s an ‘I’m glad you’re well’ present,” he said, handing her the pretty little package. “Oh, Ron!” she said nervously. It was remarkably like a ring box. I don’t know if I’m ready for this, she thought. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I shouldn’t accept it unless I’m ready, right? Oh dear, what am I going to do? She looked up at him and saw the expectant, eager light in his eyes. She took a deep breath and bravely opened her gift, squealing in delight to see it was earrings, not a promise ring or something more serious. “They’re beautiful! What kind of stone is this?” “Sapphire,” he replied with a smile, savouring the joyful look on her face. “Oh, that’s my birthstone!” she said excitedly. “Look how the blue glows in the light. What a beautiful colour!” “Ravenclaw colour,” Ron commented with a chuckle. “I almost chose rubies instead.” “I love these! Thank you!” she said, rolling on top of him and kissing him soundly. When she broke the kiss, she stayed on top of him and rested her head on his shoulder, the earrings still clutched in her hand, a happy smile on her face. “We’ll have to go to Hogsmeade and get my ears pierced.” “OK. We can go tomorrow. It’s late now, the shops will be closing.” “OK,” she murmured, relaxing against him, enjoying the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing her back. “Mmmm, that feels good.” “To me, too.” He kept rubbing her back with one hand, while playing with her curls with the other. “I was so scared,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you.” “I’m fine now,” she said, lifting her face far enough to kiss his chin, then relaxing again. “You feeling all right?” “Never better. But I’m tired,” she said, trying to stifle a yawn. “The healer said nothing too strenuous, and to get lots of rest,” he said, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “Maybe we overdid it.” “No, we didn’t!” she said with a laugh. “I’m just tired. And I am resting, right here.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “Are you comfortable, or do you want me to move over?” “Stay right where you are,” he said, still gently rubbing her back. Before long, he heard soft little whistles coming from her nose as she slept. He smiled, holding her tenderly. Does life get any better than this? he thought as he, too, drifted off to sleep. Hours later, they emerged into the darkened castle. “Oh, we’re going to get into so much trouble,” Hermione worried. “It’s well after curfew.” “That’s why we have the Invisibility Cloak,” Ron replied quietly as he spread the Cloak over both of them. They huddled together, hurrying down the hall toward Gryffindor Tower when they heard a sudden, loud yowl. “Mrs. Norris!” Hermione hissed. “Bloody hell,” Ron grumbled, wondering again if Filch’s cat could see through Invisibility Cloaks. He and Hermione moved toward the wall, but not quickly enough. “What is it, my sweet?” Filch said as he followed the sound of her cry. “Students out of bed?” He hurried around the corner and ran right into Ron and Hermione, knocking them over. Hermione pulled her wand and cast a Stunning spell on him before he could catch them. “Whoa! You’re attacking staff right and left, now! Good going!” Ron commented as they pelted down the corridor. “It was just a small spell — he’ll wake up soon,” she replied anxiously, hoping she was right. As they neared Gryffindor Tower, they pulled off the Cloak and kissed before telling the Fat Lady the password. “Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger,” came the silky tones of Severus Snape. “What are you two doing out of bed at this hour?” “Erm. . .” said Hermione. “Um. . .” said Ron. “And you’re both Prefects. Shame, shame, shame.” Ron’s temper exploded. “Prefects are allowed out after curfew. And your wonderful Slytherin Prefect attacked a teacher and three students, nearly killing Hermione and Professor Sinistra!” he snarled. “Shame, indeed!” “That will be twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of bed after curfew — each. And another twenty points for your cheek, Weasley.” “Sixty points!” Ron howled, exasperated beyond measure. “We’re Prefects! We’re allowed!” “One more word and it will be a hundred,” Snape sneered. Ron did his best to stifle his anger. “Good night, Professor.” “Good night, Professor,” Hermione said meekly. ”Good night,” Snape answered, then swooped down the hall, his black robes billowing. When they walked into the Common Room, they sank onto a couch. “Sixty points,” Ron moaned. “Ravenclaw’s so close to us this year, that may cost us the House Championship.” “It could cost us our Prefect badges,” Hermione murmured. Then she giggled suddenly. “I wonder how many points he’d take off if he caught us, um. . .” “Doing what we’ve been doing most of the evening?” Ron said, grinning at her. “Yeah.” “Probably several thousand,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank goodness for Harry’s cloak.” “Oh no!” Hermione said suddenly. “What?” “What if Filch and Snape compare notes? They’ll work out that it was us who stunned Filch! Oh no. . . .” she moaned. “Don’t worry about spilled potion,” Ron said wisely. “Either clean it up or live with the mess.” “That sounds like your mother talking,” she said with a wry smile. “Yeah, she says that a lot.” He stood up and held out his hands to her. “C’mon, time for bed.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “It was a lovely evening.” “Yeah. Good night,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “Mmmm. Night,” she said, pulling back from him and going slowly up the stairs. He watched until she was out of sight, then practically danced up the stairs to his dormitory. When he got there, he bounced on Harry’s bed, waking him. “Whassup?” Harry said muzzily. “I just had the best evening ever!” Ron chortled. “Good. Glad to hear it. Night,” Harry said, turning his face back into his pillow. “No, really! The best!” Ron said, still bouncing the bed. Harry turned to face his friend. “So she liked the earrings, eh?” “Yeah,” Ron said excitedly. “And she thanked you very nicely?” “Oh yeah!” Ron’s face was glowing, he was so happy. “Good. Now go to bed and dream about it,” Harry said, turning over on his side and trying to get back to sleep. “Harry?” “Mmmm?” “Thanks.” Ha rry turned and squinted at him. “For what?” “For pushing me to let Hermione know I cared about her in the first place,” he said earnestly. “For sharing your Invisibility Cloak and the Shrieking Shack with us. For reminding me about that tunnel. For helping me find nice presents for her and getting me a discount from the shop. For lots of things. Thanks, mate.” “Always happy to be of service,” Harry replied with a sleepy smile. Ron bounded off of Harry’s bed and over to his own, where he bounced happily for a while before changing for bed and settling down to sleep. He’d tell Harry in the morning about being caught by Snape and their encounter with Filch. He didn’t want to dim the happy radiance that had suffused the entire evening with memories of those gits. “Harry?” Ron called softly across the room some time later. “Mmm?” “Tomorrow’s the full moon. Are we going out with Remus?” “Yeah.” “Cool. Good night.” “Night.” At breakfast the next day, Ron and Hermione told Harry and Ginny about their run-ins with both Snape and Filch. “You hexed Filch?” Harry whispered in amazement, his face split in an ear-to-ear grin. “Way to go, Hermione!” “I just hope he and Snape don’t talk to each other about last night,” she said nervously. “If they do. . .” “We’re doomed,” Ron finished for her. “No use crying over spilled potion,” Ginny began. “Yeah, Ron said that last night when we got back,” Hermione said, smiling up at him. “Sixty points, though,” Ginny sighed. “There goes the House Championship.” “Not necessarily,” Harry said philosophically. “A lot can happen between now and the Leaving Feast.” “That’s true,” Ginny said with a shrug, then smiled. Harry was in such a good mood today for some reason, and Ron and Hermione were still floating on the joy of being back together after Hermione’s brush with death. What did a few points matter when the people you loved were happy and healthy and you only had a few more days together before being separated for the whole summer holiday? She leaned against Harry for a moment, rubbing her cheek on his broad shoulder affectionately. He smiled down at her tenderly for a long moment, then looked up at the celestial ceiling, which showed a clear blue sky with only a few thin clouds scudding along in a brisk breeze. “What shall we do today?” he asked, rubbing his hands together briskly. “It looks like flying weather to me!” “You want to play some pick-up Quidditch?” Ron said eagerly. “Yeah! Gin, you want to play, don’t you?” Harry said, turning to her. “Absolutely! Wonder who else we can talk into playing?” The four friends discussed various options, then went around asking other friends if they wanted to play. Before long, two teams made up of a combination of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were headed out to the pitch. Harry was the captain of one team, Ron captain of the other. They played all morning, both teams playing remarkably well together despite being a mixture of three houses. Harry’s team won two games due to his catching the Snitch. After some ribbing from Ron, Harry made Ginny Seeker and he played Chaser — and they still won. Ron’s team finally won a couple of games and they called a halt, everyone having had an excellent time. Even Hermione had enjoyed herself. She and Dean Thomas and a few others who weren’t so fond of flying did hysterically funny commentaries on the games, making each other laugh rather than following the games well. When everyone landed, Ginny turned to Harry and said, “Want to race?” Since they had the only two Firebolts in school, they should be well-matched. Soon the other teenagers were egging them on, urging them to race five times around the pitch and see who the better flier was. “Sweetheart, you’re lighter. You’ll beat the pants off of me,” Harry whined playfully. She stood on tiptoes, pulling on his sleeve so he would bend down, and whispered in his ear, “That’s OK with me,” making him blush furiously and her giggle. “All right, if you want to be that way about it, let’s go!” Harry said, mounting his broom. Ron held up his hand in front of the two of them and acted as starter. “Ready? Set? GO!” Ron called, and everyone watched in momentary awed silence as the Firebolts zoomed away at breakneck speed. Ginny was as reckless a flier as Harry. They were well-matched except for Harry being so much bigger than she was. They circled the pitch once in a fast but civilized manner, then Harry started zooming up and down in dives and climbs, flying circles around Ginny with a cocky grin. He was simply a much better flier than she was, but that didn’t matter to either of them. She grinned back and leaned over her broomstick, urging it to greater speed, leaving him behind with an amused look on his face. The watching crowd was screaming themselves hoarse. “C’mon Potter!” she called. “You’re slow as treacle!” Harry leaned over his broomstick and caught up with her and they sped across the finish line together to thunderous cheers from their friends. Hot, sweaty, tired and happy, the fliers parted in the corridor and went to their separate dormitories to shower and change. “It was fun flying with mixed teams, wasn’t it?” Harry said as he and Ron dried off after their showers. “Yeah, it was. Sometimes I think the House system isn’t the best idea. I got to know some people from other Houses better today. That was great.” “Yeah,” Harry agreed. In the Great Hall that evening, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs mingled much more freely than they normally did, laughing together about the good time they’d had in their games. After a fun afternoon wandering around Hogsmeade and getting Hermione’s ears pierced, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were enjoying a relaxing supper. The boys would be going out to run that night with Remus, and were eating with gusto to have enough energy to keep up with the werewolf. They were lingering over their pudding and talking about inconsequential things when a boy approached them and nervously said, “Hi, Harry.” “Hi,” Harry said, not sure who the boy was. He hadn’t played Quidditch with them today. He didn’t think he knew him. “Um. . .can I have a word?” the boy asked quietly. “Yeah. Sit down. What’s your name?” “Alex McCullough. I’m in Ravenclaw. Fifth Year,” the boy said as he sat down next to Ron and across from Harry. “You’re in Herbology with me,” Ginny said, smiling at him. “Yeah,” the boy said, smiling at her. “You’re awfully good at it. You should’ve been a Ravenclaw.” He suddenly looked startled, glancing nervously at Harry before saying, “I didn’t mean anything by that.” Harry shrugged. “These two girls are brilliant. Both of them should be in Ravenclaw, they’re so smart. I’m just glad they’re Gryffindors — we need all the brainy people we can get! I don’t blame you for wishing they were in your House, though,” he said with a smile. His friendly comment hadn’t loosened the boy up. He sighed, then looked at the boy curiously. “You said you wanted to talk to me. What’s up?” “Um. . .could we. . .I mean, would you mind. . . .” He glanced nervously at Ron, Hermione and Ginny, then straightened his shoulders determinedly, looked earnestly at Harry and said, “Could we speak privately?” Harry frowned uncertainly. “What’s this about?” “Please, Harry, if I could just speak to you for a few minutes. . . .” Alex’s voice trailed off, and he started to get up. “Never mind.” “No, it’s all right,” Harry said suddenly. “D’you guys mind?” he asked his friends. “We won’t be far away,” Ron assured him, studying the Ravenclaw dubiously. He, Hermione and Ginny all stood up and moved a few seats down. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” Harry asked patiently. He could see Alex was making himself do something that was very hard for him. Speaking to me shouldn’t be that scary, he thought. His senses were all on the alert. Could this boy be planning to attack him? It seemed unlikely, but he would never have expected to be attacked by Hermione either. “Why are they so protective of you?” Alex asked unexpectedly, nodding toward Ron, Hermione and Ginny, all of whom were watching him and Harry closely. “They’re my best friends. We look out for each other.” “No, there’s something more than that in how they act toward you. It’s as if they have to protect you — as if you need to be looked after,” Alex said, choosing his words carefully. “Have you noticed what a buggered up term I’ve had?” Harry said, trying to make light of one of the very serious problems in his life, and not succeeding very well. “You’re right, they’re trying to protect me. If you tried to attack me, they’d hex you into oblivion before your next heartbeat if I didn’t do it first.” Alex blanched, leaning away from Harry and looking as if he would run at a moment’s notice. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You asked, I answered. Now, what did you want?” Harry said in as reasonable a voice as he could manage. He’d been having so much fun with his friends, and now this boy was spoiling his evening. He sighed, hoping that whatever Alex wanted wasn’t going to be difficult to handle. Alex sat looking timidly from Harry to his friends and back. Finally, he managed to speak again. “Erm. . .are the stories about you. . .are they true?” The boy was so nervous, his hands were shaking. Harry’s face hardened a bit. “Which stories?” “The ones in the history books, in the newspapers, magazines — those stories.” “The ones by Hermione Granger that were in the Daily Prophet are true. The interview by Rita Skeeter that appeared first in the Quibbler last year, then later in the Prophet, was true as well. Most of the other stuff you read about me is made up, especially the junk in the magazines and tabloids. The stuff in the history books is probably true. I’ve never read any of it, but Hermione’s told me about it. Why?” “Is it true that you’ve. . .um. . .killed people?” Alex’s face blanched and he trembled visibly after asking this. Harry squelched his instant flash of anger as well as he could. The kid was scared of him, it was obvious. Why he would be asking such questions was beyond Harry, but honesty was the best policy most of the time. And besides, what he’d done was public record, so there was no point in denying it. “Yes. Why?” he said in a quiet, tense voice. The boy gulped. “My, uh. . . my dad. . . .” His voice seemed to fail him, and his shoulders sagged as his face saddened. “What about your dad?” Harry’s heart clenched. Was this one of the people whose parents he’d killed? None of them had approached him after Dumbledore’s stern warning. Was this the first in a long line of them, now that the school term was nearly over? He hoped not. “He’s. . .he’s dead.” Alex stifled a sob and rubbed his eyes frantically. Harry’s nerves were taut, conscious of a possible threat, but his heart softened. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know what it’s like to lose a father.” He reached out and patted the other boy’s arm kindly. “How’s your mum doing?” “She’s OK, I think. It happened a while ago. She waited until I’d finished my O.W.L.’s to send word about it, so I would do as well as possible on them,” he said, swallowing hard as he fought the tears attempting to escape his control. “I missed his funeral.” “I’m sorry,” Harry said again, at a loss for anything better to say. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he asked, “So why did you want to talk to me?” He dreaded the answer. “Because. . .because. . .um. . . . You said you’ve killed people,” the boy said, gazing earnestly into Harry’s eyes. “Did you. . .did you kill someone who looked like me? Same colour hair and eyes, but his nose was crooked and he was taller than me.” “Not that I remember,” Harry said, instantly regretting sounding so casual about it. “Was your dad a Death Eater?” “Apparently.” The boy’s shoulders sagged as if under an unbearable burden. “You didn’t know about it?” “No. My mum didn’t, either.” “I wish I knew what to say to help you,” Harry said sincerely. “When did he die?” “During the Battle of Little Hangleton.” “Oh,” Harry said, understanding at last why the boy was asking these questions. “There were a lot of Death Eaters there. They usually wear masks. Some of them took their masks off, or I recognized their voices, so I knew who they were. But a lot of them didn’t, so I have no idea who they were. I didn’t identify any bodies there. I was badly hurt, so I was brought back to Hogwarts right away. It wasn’t like the battle in France where I was the one who identified the bodies. I can’t tell you anything about how your father died. I’m sorry.” “Why did he have to die?” Alex cried in anguish. “I can’t answer that. All I can tell you is, when someone is trying to kill me — and all of them were — I fight back. I was in a kill or be killed situation. I had my hands full fighting Voldemort, but there were Death Eaters surrounding the two of us shooting spells at me too, most of the time. I shot back at them to protect myself whenever I had the chance. I don’t think I killed anyone then, but I was too busy to find out how badly hurt they were. They finally backed off when Voldemort’s spells kept missing me and hitting them. He killed a lot of the Death Eaters himself that way.” “What do you mean, his spells missed you?” the boy said in disbelief. “I thought he was the greatest wizard of the age.” “Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of the age,” Harry corrected sternly. “There’s a big difference between a powerful wizard and a great one. Voldemort’s a powerful wizard, yes, but so is Dumbledore. Dumbledore is also a great wizard, because he uses his power for the good of other people. That’s the measure of greatness. Lots of wizards can be powerful, but if they use their power for their own good and don’t care who gets hurt along the way, they’re not ‘great’ by any measure. Voldemort is a monster. He’s the most powerful Dark wizard in a century or so, but he’s not the most powerful wizard alive today, not by a long shot. And his spells missed because I’m good at dodging and blocking spells. He’d shoot at me and I’d duck and roll, or jump out of the way, or throw up a shield or a blocking spell,” he ended with a shrug, as if dodging curses hurled by Lord Voldemort was a minor annoyance. “So it’s possible Voldemort killed him?” “Yes. It’s also possible he was killed by me, by Professor Dumbledore or Professor Lupin, or by some of the other adults who came to help us. Or he could have died from crossfire, like Seamus Finnegan did, just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Harry’s eyes filled with tears as he thought of Seamus, but he fought the sadness back angrily. “It was a battle, Alex. You were here for the Battle of Hogwarts. You’ve seen how battles go — although you lot here had a well-guarded castle to protect you, and we were all out in the open.” “No, I didn’t see it,” Alex said, hanging his head. “What do you mean? Where were you?” Harry said in shock. “I’m no fighter. I was in the library and just stayed there. I’m interested in research. I’m not good at defensive spells.” The boy kept his eyes lowered, ashamed to look Harry in the face. He’d read about the tall boy seated in front of him fighting to save the world from Voldemort and his kind. In spite of his fear, he was in awe of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, brave souls who willingly flew right into the face of danger on a regular basis. “Then you should join D.A.,” Harry said reasonably. “You can improve your defence skills and learn how to fight.” “I don’t want to fight.” “Do you want the Dark wizards to take over?” Harry said, his temper rising. “Are you going to lie down and let them run all over you? What will you do when you’re faced with a choice between their side and ours?” “I don’t know,” the boy said meekly. Harry sat up straighter. He’d just had an insight. “Is that what happened to your dad? He was forced to become a Death Eater?” “I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.” “What did he do for a living?” “He’s. . .he was an accountant.” “For Gringott’s?” “No. For the Ministry of Magic.” Harry sat deep in thought for a moment. “You know, that could be why they went after him. They’re always trying to recruit people who work for the Ministry so they can try to destroy us from within. Voldemort can put spells on them to force them to fight for him, or he can coerce them other ways to cooperate with him. Your dad may not have wanted to fight at all, much less for Voldemort.” “So maybe he wasn’t a bad person?” Alex said, his eyes brightening with hope. “Do you remember him as a bad person?” “No. He was kind, gentle, loved books and music. His idea of a pleasant evening was to sit and listen to the wireless while reading. He always had our big ginger cat on his lap. He was a good dad,” Alex said, his voice breaking. “It sounds as if he was a very nice man,” Harry said generously. “I imagine he was forced to join. That would be Voldemort’s way. If he sees someone he wants as a Death Eater, he gives them a choice — ‘join of your own free will, or I’ll do something awful to you or to the people you love. But if you join me, nothing bad will happen.’” Harry made a disgusted noise. “How do you know that?” “He’s tried to get me to join him, but I won’t. That really pisses him off,” Harry said with a sneer. “How can you be so . . . so . . .” Alex was aghast, and at a loss for words as well — a rare condition for a Ravenclaw. “Whatever my attitude — and I can’t label it myself, either, so don’t feel bad — it helps me survive,” Harry replied with a shrug. “Were you serious when you said I could join D.A.?” Alex asked humbly. “Of course! I think it would be good for you, and we can always use good researchers to help us find new spells to learn,” Harry said generously. “You don’t mind that my dad was a Death Eater?” “I mind Death Eaters who attack innocent victims. Your dad doesn’t sound like that sort. But even if he were, it’s not your fault if he turned out badly. You need to live your life the best way you can, for your own good. Don’t worry about what your parents may have done that wasn’t right. Just do the best you can yourself. That’s what people will judge you by, not on who your parents were.” “How did you get so wise?” the boy said in awe. “Me, wise?” Harry laughed. “That’s funny.” “No, I mean it. How did you manage it?” Harry had to stop and think about that for a minute. Finally, he said, “I have no idea. I’ve had a hard life in many ways. Maybe that made me grow up faster than some other people, I don’t know. I’m still much too impulsive, too arrogant, too opinionated, and too disrespectful of rules for my own good. But I just keep plugging away, getting through each day as well as I can manage. I think that’s all any of us can do, honestly.” Ron, Hermione and Ginny were still watching the conversation intently. Harry had leaned back, relaxed, his arms crossed comfortably across his chest, the anger that had flashed briefly a short time ago just a memory. The other boy’s face had gone from nervous tension to active, serious interest in the conversation. Alex was quiet a moment. “What’s it like?” he said hesitantly. “What?” “To kill someone.” Harry sighed. He’d hoped that part of the conversation was over. He glanced around and saw that there were quite a few people paying attention to their quiet chat. He sighed again, then leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, his face in his hands, his shoulders sagging, the very picture of depression. “I’m sorry, Harry. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Alex said anxiously. Harry sat up, his face sad. “It’s a reasonable question. We’re at war, and at some point, you might have to kill someone. I can understand why you asked. It’s just a tough question to answer.” He looked at his hands for a few minutes. His hands were strong but slender, with long, elegant fingers that were capable of thrilling the girl he loved or killing an enemy with equal swiftness. When he was alone, he sometimes looked at his hands and marvelled at what they were capable of. They scared him somehow, such awesome power was hidden in their wrinkles and whorls. He looked over at his friends and saw wariness on Ron’s face, sympathy on Ginny’s and Hermione’s. He glanced around at the people sitting in their area. All conversation had stopped. Everyone was looking at him, listening to him, waiting to learn what it was like to take the life of another human being. Why me? he thought, not for the first or last time. He went back to staring at his hands as he said, “I can’t answer for anyone else. I’ve killed several people now, maybe more than I’m even aware of, since some of my spells missed Voldemort in that battle as well. The first person I killed in battle richly deserved it. Killing her was an accident, but when I found out she was dead, I was frustrated. I’d wanted to fight with her longer, hurt her more before she died. She killed my godfather and tortured and killed lots of other people. The other people — in the heat of battle, fighting for my life? I didn’t think about them at all except as ‘good — that’s one less to fight.’ After that battle in France, it tore my guts out to know I’d killed people. I was badly injured after the Battle of Little Hangleton, so I didn’t spend much time thinking about who I might have killed, except for regretting not managing to kill Voldemort. In both cases, the people I killed were trying to kill me and my friends. I won’t lie down and let such things happen,” he said fiercely, finally looking up and glaring at Alex. “I will fight to protect those I love. I will fight to protect the good people of the wizarding world. I won’t fight without a good reason. I won’t just go kill somebody for fun — it isn’t fun to kill somebody, and if you think it is, you’d better think about what kind of person you want to be, because you’re headed for the Dark side. We’re at war. When the war’s over, I hope I never have to fight anyone again. But if I have to, I will.” He started suddenly, pulling his wand and whipping around because he’d sensed someone close behind him. Ginny, Ron and Hermione all ducked, knowing his lightning reflexes. He laughed shakily. “You lot know better than to sneak up on me.” “Sorry, mate,” Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thought you needed a friend.” “Thanks,” Harry said, looking at each of them in turn as they surrounded him, the girls seated on each side, Ron at his back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He turned back to Alex. “Have I answered your questions?” “Um. . .yeah,” Alex said nervously. “Are you going to join D.A.?” Harry said, trying to get back to a normal frame of mind. “I’m not brave like you. If I’d felt someone was sneaking up on me, I would have thrown my hands up and surrendered right away. I can’t see me going into battle willingly. I just can’t see it.” “You think I’m brave, do you?” Harry snapped. “I’m scared to death most of the time when I’m fighting. Just now, I sensed someone creeping up behind me and I was terrified, but I pulled my wand to protect myself in spite of being scared. In battle, I’m fighting for my life against powerful enemies, and I’m usually outnumbered. Being brave is overrated. I just do what has to be done, the best I can manage, and hope that my luck holds out. That’s all anyone can do. If you want to try D.A., you’re welcome. I think it will do you good.” Harry stood up and held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Alex. I’m sorry about your dad. You’re lucky though,” he said as he shook the boy’s hand. “Lucky? Why?” “You have fifteen years or so of memories with your dad. I have two tiny memories of mine, and one of those is of my parents being murdered. I’d give anything to have memories like you have.” He released the other boy’s hand and turned away, looking back once to say, “I hope you have a nice holiday. And I hope to see you in D.A. next term.” “I’ll be there, Harry. Thanks.” As the full moon rose, Ginny and Hermione leaned out of the Common Room window, watching the darkened grounds for movement. “There they are,” Ginny whispered, pointing toward the far side of the lake. The moonlight caught the white ruff of the collie running with the werewolf and the wolf. “Look at them go,” Hermione murmured, smiling at the sight. Ginny laughed. “The Marauders ride again.” Just then, the full moon cleared the forest and shone brightly across the grounds, casting long shadow behind the three animals. They stood still, looking suddenly like statues, then the three of them bayed at the moon. The sound of the wolf’s and werewolf’s howls sent goose-bumps up the girls’ arms, the sound of the collie’s cry pale in comparison. They howled again, then took off at a run for the forest, disappearing in the darkness. “I guess they’ll have a lot to tell us in the morning,” Ginny said, stretching and yawning. ”Yeah. I’m tired. See you in the morning,” Hermione said, standing and heading for the dormitory stairs. ”Good night,” Ginny said, gazing out of the window a while longer. When the three didn’t reappear, she, too, went up to bed. “So did you boys have fun last night?” Ginny asked quietly over breakfast. “It was cool!” Harry said with a grin. “Yeah,” Ron agreed. “What did you do?” Hermione said. “We ran all over the grounds and through the Forbidden Forest,” Ron began. “We saw Dad’s old car once. It’s still running wild out there. The Centaurs chased us for a while, but we got away.” “The Centaurs chased you?” Hermione said, aghast. “Why?” “They don’t like werewolves. I suppose they don’t like wolves either. I don’t know what they think about collies, or why one would be with a werewolf and a wolf,” he said with a grin. “What else did you see?” Ginny asked. “We found a whole herd of unicorns,” Harry said, grinning at the memory. “The foals were asleep until we came along. Then the mares got everyone moving and the stallion came and challenged us. We got out of there in a hurry!” “Harry tried to talk to the thestrals we saw, but they apparently aren’t fond of wolves either,” Ron said with a snort. “Or maybe they just don’t speak wolf.” “Why didn’t you change into a thestral so you could talk to them?” Hermione asked. “It would be dangerous to change when Remus is in werewolf form. If I mucked the change up somehow and became human. . . .” He spread his hands and shrugged, knowing that was all the explanation needed. “Good morning, lads!” Remus said, clapping Harry on the shoulder as he walked by. “Did you rest well?” he added, a twinkle in his eye. “Rest? What’s that?” Harry said with an exaggerated yawn. “That’s what we did toward the end of the evening, in case you didn’t notice,” Remus reminded him. “Really? I was asleep. I guess I missed that,” Harry teased, and was rewarded by Remus ruffling his hair playfully. “Thanks, boys. It was a lot of fun.” “For us, too, Remus,” Ron said. “Too bad we can’t do that over the holidays.” “Yeah, I can’t see us running around Surrey or London or Ottery St. Catchpole. Too many people,” Remus agreed. “Next term, we’ll do it again.” “Cool!” Ron enthused. Remus waved to the group and went on to the Head Table to eat his breakfast. “I wish I could do an Animagus transformation,” Hermione sulked. “You lot have so much fun with them.” “You probably need to change animals,” Harry suggested. “Are you still working on a cat?” “Yes.” “With no progress?” “No,” she said with disgust. “What animals do you know really well? What animals do you like particularly well?” Harry asked. “Cats.” “Other than cats.” “I don’t really like a lot of animals. I’m not a pet kind of person, except for cats.” “Maybe that’s the problem, then,” Harry said reasonably. “You’re kidding!” she said, appalled. “It can’t be that simple.” “Why not? Remember when I couldn’t turn the kitten into the monkey because I liked the kitten too well?” She nodded, her eyes wide. “I think it’s possible you have a similar problem. There’s something in the back of your mind that’s blocking the change, perhaps.” He thought a moment. “What’s the most important thing in your life?” “What do you mean?” “I think your being so clever is so important to you, it’s possible you’re afraid you won’t be as smart if you’re an animal,” Harry said wisely. “Could that be it?” Hermione sat with her mouth hanging open, a protest on her lips, ready to argue several very logical points to prove Harry wrong. Then her mouth snapped shut as she considered what he’d said. She studied her hands a while, deep in thought. A few moments later, she looked up at him, her face astonished. “I think you’re right! I’m afraid of the transformation!” “So what can you do about that?” Harry said. “Or do you honestly, truly, deep down in your heart want to transform? There’s nothing wrong with not being able to do the Animagus transformation. It’s not something you really have to do to be successful in any kind of job, for instance. I mean, it will be handy for Ron and me as Aurors, but you don’t want to be an Auror, so it’s not necessary for you to be an Animagus.” He stopped and thought a minute, studying her disappointed face, and realized she wasn’t ready to give up yet. “You’ve been beating yourself up over it ever since McGonagall first started teaching it to us. Maybe if you relax about it a bit, it will work for you. And you may need to pick a different animal, since the cat isn’t working for you.” Hermione sat quietly thinking about what he’d said. Then her face brightened and she replied, “Thanks, Harry! That gives me a new way of looking at it. That’s great. Now I just have to work out what sort of animal to become.” “What’s wrong with an otter? That’s what your Patronus is,” Ron suggested. “An otter would be fun, but they can’t keep up with running dogs — I couldn’t run with you,” she said. “Think about different animals and see what suits you,” Harry said reasonably, “just stop worrying about it. You don’t have to become an Animagus.” “But I want to! I’ll work on it this summer. I’ll research loads of animals and find one that suits me.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, “I think being a phoenix would be brilliant.” “But you don’t like to fly,” Ginny teased. “Yeah, there is that,” Hermione agreed with a sigh. “Which animal will you try when you learn it, Ginny?” “I’d like to be a horse, I think,” Ginny said promptly. “And that’s what my Patronus is.” “You don’t have to be what your Patronus is,” Harry reminded her. “Ron’s Patronus is a bear, but his Animagus is a dog.” “They’re similar in shape, anyway,” Ginny said with a grin. “I like horses. After riding the thestrals, I think it would be brilliant to ride real horses, or to become one as an Animagus. I can’t wait to start trying!” “Don’t start trying until McGonagall or Harry explains it to you really well,” Ron warned, “or you might get stuck! Harry’s had to change me back before. Being stuck as an animal is scary!” “Harry’s already started showing me how to do it,” Ginny said cheekily. “I can almost make a cat’s paw already!” “Really?” Ron said, impressed. “Show us!” Ginny struggled and grunted and took a long time to manage it, but eventually her left hand was covered in ginger fur and her fingers were a lot shorter, with leathery pads on the palm of her hand and each fingertip. “There!” “That’s great, Ginny!” her brother enthused. “Doing that as a Fifth Year is pretty amazing,” Hermione said with a smile. “Good job!” “Thanks!” Ginny said with satisfaction, stroking the soft fur on the back of her arm as the conversation continued. “Harry, do you feel your own intelligence when you’re the animal?” Hermione asked. “It’s odd. You have the animal’s mind, as well as your own, the animal’s instincts as well as your own, but the animal’s mind and instincts seem to take over at times, especially when you need to react quickly. It’s an interesting experience,” Harry said, smiling. “Yeah, sometimes it can be confusing, which instinct to follow, y’know? Sometimes the collie wants to do something and I don’t think it’s a good idea so the two of us are fighting each other! It’s weird!” Ron said with a grin. “Ooo, I don’t like the sound of that at all,” Hermione said uneasily. “I trust my mind. I don’t know what I’d do if I had a second mind inside my head arguing with me!” “You’d win, hands down — or paws down,” Ron said with hoot of laughter at his own joke. “Seriously, once you get used to it, it’s not bad at all.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and started playing with her hair. “With your hair, you could be a chocolate poodle. The collie sort of evolved from my hair colour, y’know. Harry and I were talking about it and it all just fell in place. Apparently Ginny’s cat is evolving from her hair colour, as well,” he added, smiling at his sister who was still examining her partial cat’s paw. “A chocolate poodle? One of those horrid little toy dogs?” Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. “Poodles come in all sizes,” Ginny said reasonably. “The big ones are about as big as a collie, but they don’t look so big because their hair is usually shaved off on most of their bodies. I’ve read lots of books about dogs and cats and so forth. I used to think I wanted to be a healer of magical animals, but I think Harry needs me to be a human healer,” she said with a grin. “Don’t base your career choice on my needs,” Harry said, reaching over to stroke her cheek gently, then twining a lock of her hair around his finger. “You need to do what makes you happy.” “I think I’ll enjoy being a healer,” she replied. “I like helping people.” “And you’re good at it,” Harry assured her, tweaking her nose. “Got your conk!” “Watch it, or I’ll get your dimple!” she teased. “Can we get back to the poodle?” Hermione said. “If it’s as big as a collie, I could keep up when you run.” “Yeah,” Ron said, grinning. “That would be cool.” He glanced over at Harry. “You know, I think Hermione could do with a boost from you.” “A boost?” Harry looked puzzled. “Remember the boost you gave me when I was stuck?” Ron reminded him. “Oh! A boost. Yeah, I can do that. Our neighbour had a poodle. I think I know enough about them to do the transformation.” “What are you talking about?” Hermione said suspiciously. “I could turn you into a poodle for a while so you’d see how it feels,” Harry explained. Her eyes widened, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity. “Really? But. . . .” “I won’t do it unless you want me to,” Harry assured her. “Or Ron can do it if you’d rather.” “Oh no,” Ron said, holding his hands up in surrender. “You get better marks in Transfiguration than I do. I’m afraid I’d mess it up somehow.” “Yeah, and you care too much about her to do something like that well anyway,” Ginny agreed as she transformed her paw back into her hand. “Are you saying Harry doesn’t care about me? He was able to transform me,” Ron said, acting aggrieved. “You know I love you,” Harry laughed, leaning toward Ron and patting him on the back fondly. Ron looked mollified, then burst into laughter. “Oh, I’m SO relieved!” he said dramatically. “You love me! You really love me!” All four friends giggled at Ron’s performance. “So do you want me to try that?” Harry asked Hermione when the laughter died down. “Or you could ask Professor McGonagall to do it. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” “I’d rather you did it if you don’t mind,” she said timidly. “When would you like to do it?” “That’s up to you. Just let me know when you’re ready,” he said amiably. Hermione sat thinking while Harry and Ginny tickled each other and Ron played with her hair. Finally she burst out, “OK. Now. Let’s get it over with.” “Huh?” Ron said. “What?” “Let’s turn me into a poodle,” she said with determination. “It’s now or never.” “Let’s not do it here in the Great Hall,” Harry said quietly. “If you really want to, let’s go outside somewhere, maybe just into the edge of the woods, where we’ll have some privacy.” “No,” Hermione said nervously. “I’m afraid the dog will take over and I’ll run off into the woods. Can’t we do it somewhere more. . .confined?” “How about the tunnel to Honeydukes?” Ron suggested. “That will work. Or the Room of Requirement, if nobody’s in it,” Ginny said. “That room has been quite busy since our exams ended. I think the tunnel will be our best bet,” Harry replied. “OK, let’s go.” Soon the four of them were seated on the floor of the tunnel. “Hermione, are you sure about this?” Harry asked her. “Yes. Do it quickly, before I change my mind,” she said, looking really frightened. “OK,” Harry said, lifting his wand. “WAIT!” she cried, holding her hands out frantically. “Are you certain you can change me back?” “I changed Ron back all right,” Harry assured her. “I don’t see any reason why it should be harder to change you either way.” Hermione took a deep breath. She was trembling visibly, her eyes frightened. “’Mione, do you want me to be a collie when you’re a dog, so you and I can talk dog talk or whatever? Will that make you more comfortable?” Ron offered. “I can turn into a dog after I change you, if you want,” Harry added. “Oh, thanks, both of you. Ron, yes, I’d love for you to change. Harry, if you change and get stuck somehow, Ginny doesn’t know how to change any of us back!” Hermione replied. “You stay Harry, OK?” “No problem,” he agreed. “Are you ready?” “Just a sec,” Ron said, then kissed Hermione quite thoroughly. While she was still catching her breath, he changed into a collie. “Now,” Hermione insisted. With three taps of his wand, Hermione changed into a large chocolate poodle, the long shaggy curls all over its body looking very much like Hermione’s real hair. It stood there trembling, as if it were afraid to move. The collie whined and nudged it with its nose. The poodle started and turned its head, its ears flapping and startling it. It jumped in reaction, then sat down suddenly. The poodle looked at the collie intently for a few moments, then looked down at itself, studying its own appearance. It stood shakily to its feet and took a step, then another, then began walking, looking at its feet for a while, then moving with more confidence. It broke into a trot for a few steps, then suddenly began to run, racing down the tunnel, the collie pelting after it, both of them barking joyously. “Oh, no,” Harry groaned. “They’ll hear them in Honeydukes.” “Silencio,” Ginny said, pointing her wand at the dogs. Instantly, both dogs were silent, although their mouths were still moving. They stopped their run and turned, glaring back at Ginny and Harry, who were laughing merrily. “Come here, you two. Nice doggies,” Harry teased. When the dogs approached, he murmured, “You were going to be heard in Honeydukes with all that barking, you know.” The two dogs looked at each other guiltily, and then hung their heads just for a moment. “Do you promise to behave and not be noisy dogs anymore?” Ginny chided them, a grin tickling her lips. They both nodded. “OK, then,” she said and removed the Silencing Charm. The dogs ran joyfully down the tunnel again, this time in silence. They stood up on their hind feet, nipping at each other’s ears, dancing and playing, then rolling on the ground together. “I think they’re having a rather indecent amount of fun,” Ginny said, amused by their antics. Harry chuckled and nodded in agreement. Finally, the two dogs rejoined them. “Ready to change back now?” Harry asked the poodle. It shook its fur as if saying “no” but then sat and looked at him happily, its tongue lolling out as it panted. “You make a cute dog, Hermione,” Harry said, then transformed her back into his best friend. “OH! That was SO much fun! It was BRILLIANT!” she cried, leaping into Harry’s arms and hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” “No problem,” he replied through his laughter. “Wasn’t that the best? Wasn’t it wonderful? I can’t wait until I can do it myself!” she said to Ron, who sat grinning by her side. “I’m going to work hard over the holidays and by next term, I’ll be an Animagus too!” “I forgot to ask Remus something,” Harry said late that evening. “I’m going to run down to his quarters. I won’t be long,” he said, kissing Ginny on top of the head and waving to Ron. Ginny and Ron were playing Wizard’s Chess while Hermione read a book on poodles. “See you later,” Ginny called after moving her knight and taking Ron’s castle. “Ha! I’ll have you in two more moves!” “That’s what you think,” her brother said wisely, moving his bishop and taking her knight. “Where did that move come from?” Ginny fumed. Harry left the Common Room as Ron began explaining his strategy to his sister while his bishop demolished her knight. Harry knew from experience that Ron could explain such things all day, but it didn’t seem to help his or Ginny’s or Hermione’s chess games. Ron was just too brilliant a player for them to ever catch him off guard unless he became seriously distracted during a game, and that was rare. After trekking down numerous staircases and several long corridors, he arrived at Remus’s living quarters. He heard music inside. “Good, he’s there,” he thought as he knocked on the door. When Remus opened the door, he looked flushed and flustered. “Hello, Harry. What can I do for you?” he said, running his fingers through his rumpled hair. “I wanted to talk with you for a few minutes, if you don’t mind,” Harry replied. Remus looked over his shoulder, hesitated a moment, then threw the door open. “Come on in,” he invited, blushing madly as Harry saw Tonks smiling at him from Remus’s sofa. “Hi, Tonks!” Harry said with a grin. “I’m sorry, Remus. You should have told me you had company.” “That’s all right,” Remus said. “Would you like some tea?” “No, thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Nice to see you, Tonks,” Harry said, waving and starting for the door. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Remus said, grabbing his godson’s arm playfully and pushing him into a chair. “You came a long way to see me. What’s up?” “It’s not a problem or anything,” Harry began. He glanced at Tonks, who wrinkled her nose cutely at him, making him laugh. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening.” “Tonks doesn’t mind, do you?” Remus said, looking at her fondly. Harry couldn’t help it. His face split in a grin. “You two are on a date, aren’t you?” Remus blushed even more. “Well. . . .” “Yep!” Tonks said gaily. “He’s teaching me about the music he likes, and I’m trying to convince him the Weird Sisters make music, not noise,” she said with a laugh. “Sounds like quite a challenge,” Harry said, chuckling. He looked at his godfather, who was sitting opposite him and leaning forward, giving him all his attention. “OK, I’ll get to the point so I can leave and you two kids can have fun.” Tonks giggled at this. “I was wondering, Remus. Are you going to stay at Grimmauld Place this holiday?” “Yes, I will probably be there most of the time since the Order is so busy now. I have some research to do in London, and a few trips to make out of the country if I can manage them, but I will be there whenever I can. Why?” “Do I have to stay with the Dursleys this summer? I mean, since you’re my godfather and all, can’t I stay with you?” “I would love that, Harry, I truly would. But the protections that are in place . . .” “Are based on my blood relationship with Aunt Petunia,” Harry said with a heavy sigh. “I know.” “Exactly.” “I was just hoping there was some way around that problem, so I could stay at Grimmauld Place too.” “You have to stay with the Dursleys for at least a few weeks, Harry. As soon as it’s safe for you to leave there, you can stay at Grimmauld Place, or The Burrow — I’m sure the Weasleys would be happy to have you, as long as you and Ginny behave yourselves,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “It would be brilliant to stay at The Burrow, but honestly? I would love to spend as much of the holiday as possible with my godfather. Of course, I also want to spend as much time as possible with my girlfriend. Somehow, there has to be a way to work these things out,” Harry said hopefully. Remus had a fond smile on his face. “I’m so touched that you want to spend your holiday with me, Harry. I promise you, as soon as possible, you will stay at Grimmauld Place and have loads of visits to The Burrow. How’s that?” Harry’s face split in a grin. “Thanks, Remus. I wanted to talk to you about this before the trip back. I appreciate your letting me take up so much of your time.” He stood to go. “Tonks, it’s great to see you. Have fun, you two!” With a wave, he was gone. When Harry settled into his favourite squashy armchair in the Common Room, Ginny squeezed in next to him and asked, “What did you need to ask Remus?” “About where I’m living for the summer,” he said as casually as he could. Ron and Hermione turned to look at him. “What did he say?” Ginny asked. “He said I have to stay with the Dursleys for a few weeks, but as soon as possible, I can stay at Grimmauld Place, and visit The Burrow as often as your parents can stand me. But he did say you and I have to behave ourselves.” His eyes twinkled as he said this. “Behave ourselves? Whatever could he mean?” she said as haughtily as possible, then dissolved into laughter with Harry and the rest. “Guess what he was doing when I got there?” Harry teased. “Remus?” Hermione said. “Yeah.” “What?” Ginny asked. “Don’t keep us in suspense!” “He had someone with him. . .a young lady!” “NO! No way!” Ron said. “Who?” “Tonks! Remember after the battle in France? They seemed to be getting close then. I guess they’ve been developing the relationship. He blushed like mad when he invited me in and I saw her sitting on the couch. She said he’s trying to teach her about the music he likes, and she’s trying to convince him the Weird Sisters actually make music!” All of them laughed, delighted that two people they all cared about had found each other. Hermione sighed and smiled as she said, “I hope they’re happy together.” “They looked very happy. Remus’s hair was rumpled when I got there,” Harry said with a chuckle. “You don’t think they were snogging, do you?” Ron asked in surprise. “Ron, you know adults snog too sometimes!” Ginny chided him. “Even Mum and Dad. . .” “Don’t go there, Gin!” Ron warned her. “That’s too much information!” The four friends laughed and talked and snuggled in their squashy armchairs until bedtime, then reluctantly parted and went their separate ways. As they trudged up the stairs, Ron said, “I can’t believe the Leaving Feast is in just a few days. It feels as if we just got here a few weeks ago. Where has the time gone?” “It’s gone in classes and exams and Quidditch and snogging and various other pursuits,” Harry said, clapping his friend on the back as they trudged their way up the spiral staircase. “It’s been quite a busy term, hasn’t it? It’s amazing we managed to find time to go to classes at all,” he teased, squeezing Ron’s shoulder companionably. “Yeah. We were such little kids last year, remember? We’ve grown up a lot this term.” “In more ways than one,” Harry agreed with a chuckle, stretching and yawning as he pulled open his wardrobe and got out his pyjamas. “G’nite, guys,” he called to the other boys as he took off his glasses and climbed into bed. “Night,” came from three other beds, the voices in various stages of sleepiness. Soon, the darkened room was silent except for the sounds of sleeping boys. |
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