[Sat, Oct 5]

Ron felt like he wasn’t having his best year at school. Sure, he was on the Quidditch team and the captain, but his best friends weren’t here so it wasn’t nearly as much fun. To add to that, he was having to work harder to maintain his grades. He’d never realized how much he depended on Hermione to motivate him in regards to school, nor had he realized Harry helped in that matter too -- at least to some extent. His grades hadn’t slipped -- all right, only a little for a couple of weeks he would admit only privately -- but it had taken some effort he wasn’t used to expending to get his usual grades.

He was also still Prefect. A part of him was still amazed at this as deep down he knew it should have been Harry, but he’d been picked and his parents had been proud of him. He smiled as he remembered that time just before fifth year had started.

Of course, this was also a slightly sore spot for him. Hermione had left also and so she was no longer his partner in this. He had not realized how much he’d enjoyed the times of patrolling quietly around the castle with her. It had been his time to talk to her with no one else around.

Now, it was with Lavender Brown of all people. He had been a little shy around the buxom blonde at the beginning of the year because her figure was something that was very hard to miss being a teenaged boy. She was also very outgoing, to the point that it made him miss Hermione’s quiet style at times, but they seemed to be getting along and -- he really hoped -- might become more than friends one day. He did his best to think of the blonde in only a friendly manner despite how his hormones made him fell about her.

Said blonde was also on his mind because he’d just escorted her to the hospital wing. She had suddenly become ill enough she wanted to see the nurse, so he’d helped her there then continued to do the patrol they should have been doing together.

He’d been wandering a little aimlessly when he heard something, maybe a whispered spell. With reflexes trained from Quidditch and having five older brothers who picked on him, he whirled and moved to the side, pulling his wand as he moved. A pink spell splashed on the stone wall beside him. “Stupefy!” he cast back loudly. Though his attacker hadn’t been far away, he’d missed because he’d had to cast blindly.

As if he was in a fight with his brothers, Ron lunged forward as the attacker was close and punched with his left fist, knocking the other boy back. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the bloodied nose or what he saw as the boy flailed his arms.

Ron was about cast again when Snape walked around the corner.

“Weasley! Really, casting spells at another Prefect when on patrol and unprovoked as well as fisticuffs?” Snape sneered at him. “That will be fifty points from Gryffindor and a conversation with the Headmaster. Come.”

Ron just stood there and blinked, his wand hanging at his side as he look at his sneering professor and Theodore Nott who had hastily put his wand away after he’d conjured a handkerchief to stem the flow of blood from his nose and was now smirking.

“But he cast first and almost hit me!” Ron argued

“That will be another ten points from Gryffindor for arguing with a professor,” Snape said quietly and with a small quirk of the lips -- almost a smile.

Ron used every bit of control he had not to lash out. Instead, he slowly put his wand away. “I’d like to speak with Professor McGonagall,” he said with restraint obvious in his voice.

“If the Headmaster deems it necessary,” Snape said silkily. “Nott, return to your patrol. Weasley, let’s go.”

Knowing he had no choice, he turned and started walking towards the Headmaster’s office as he thought through the situation furiously to try to make sense of what was happening. Snape showing up just after he tried to defend himself and acting like he hadn’t seen or heard Nott’s spell. He’d spent enough time around Fred and George to spot a setup like this. But why?

As they walked, he realized something else was wrong. Nott had been by himself, without Pansy Parkinson, just as he was without Lavender. So it was his word against Nott’s, except that Nott had a professor on his side. Why was this happening?

Snape gave the password and waited for Ron to precede him. Ron knocked on the door and was not surprised to hear the Headmaster’s voice say, “Come in.” It wasn’t that late yet as curfew had started less than an hour ago.

When he walked in, he heard, “Mr Weasley,” in a surprised but friendly voice, before a very surprised and perplexed, “Professor Snape, please come in.”

Before anything else could be said, Ron said, “I’d like Professor McGonagall to be here as well.”

“I really don’t think that’s required, Headmaster,” Snape said easily. “I caught Weasley casting a spell at another Prefect who was merely standing there, then he hit him with his fist giving Mr Nott a bloody nose.”

“I did not,” Ron protested. “Nott cast a spell at me first when I was only walking along. I never even saw him before he cast. Then you,” he glared contemptuously at the Potions professor, “came around the corner and claimed this.”

“Mr Weasley,” the Headmaster said gravely, “why would Professor Snape lie? Because that’s what you’re accusing him of.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s protecting Nott? Does it really matter why?” Ron asked, still flummoxed at the situation.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, “I suppose the why doesn’t matter, but accusing the Professor of this is a serious matter.” He looked at Snape. “What punishment did you hand out for casting unneeded magic in the corridors?”

Ron noticed the Headmaster was ignoring the bloodied nose.

“I thought 50 points was appropriate,” Snape returned. “However, I think loss of his Quidditch badge and position might be a better deterrent so he doesn’t do this again. We have enough difficulties between the houses that we don’t need anyone adding to it.”

Ron stood there frozen as he realized what was happening. “I didn’t cast first, I swear!” Ron said aghast. He looked back and forth between the two men, each looking serious.

“In the interest of keeping the peace between the houses, I’m afraid I must request your Quidditch badge, Mr Weasley, though this is your only warning before removal from the team,” Dumbledore said. “If this happens again, then I’ll also have to take your Prefect badge. Please do your best to avoid that.”

Ron was so incensed he almost ripped the Quidditch badge off of his robes and threw it at the old man and shouted about how wrong this was. Instead, he pulled it off and set it on the edge of the desk before he turned and walked out of the Headmaster’s office as fast as he could walk without running. He wouldn’t run, but he had to get out of there before he said or did something he shouldn’t.

Hoping for some help, he went in search of his head of house. He was not surprised to see her glaring at him after his sharp, hard rap on her door.

“What is the matter, Weasley? she asked frostily.

“Professor, I…” he started roughtly before he paused and closed his eyes to concentrate so he didn’t yell at her in his anger.

“Weasley?” she called more gently before telling him, “Come in.”

He opened his eyes and nodded, walking in as she stepped back. After she closed the door, he explained everything that had happened. He ended with, “Professor, I swear I didn’t cast first and it was a set up.”

Her look turned sour. “Mr Weasley, Ronald,” she said after a moment. “I believe you and I’m very sorry this happened to you. I will speak to the Headmaster about it tomorrow, but I don’t believe there will be any change as rules have to be followed and the Headmaster has made his judgement.”

Ron huffed in exasperation and hung his head. He almost commented on what else he saw during the fight, but knew deep down it wouldn’t matter. When it was a teacher’s word against his, he’d lose every time.

As he turned to go, she told him, “Please be careful when you’re on patrol in the future. I’ve noticed you’re doing better as a Prefect this year and I’d like to see you continue doing that.”

He was surprised she had noticed or said anything.

She stepped forward and hesitated for a moment before putting her hand on his shoulder. “It might not be amiss to let your father know what happened.”

“Would he really be able to do anything?” Ron asked, skeptical.

“He’s the father of seven children, and done quite well I believe, so you might be surprised,” she told him with a caring look, almost a small smile.

“It’s worth a try I suppose,” he said before he turned and left.

He appreciated her saying she believed him and that she’d talk to the Headmaster, but he was still incensed at the whole situation. He considered writing his father, though he had no idea what his father could do.

Walking into the Gryffindor common room, he was surprised by Parvati asking him, “Where’s Lavender and what happened to you?”

He stopped and looked at her in confusion for a moment before he remembered Lavender hadn’t become ill until a few minutes after they’d left on their patrol. “Uhh, she wasn’t feeling well so I walked her to the hospital wing. She isn’t back yet?”

“No,” Parvati said, “and why do you look so, so red in the face?”

Ron glanced around and only now noticed that he had almost everyone’s attention that was near him. “Look, I’m not sure I want to talk about it, but I’m really angry right now.”

“Can we help?” Monica asked, the female seventh year Prefect.

“No, don’t think so; McGonagall couldn’t even help,” Ron growled, “stupid Snape.” He was startled by Parvati putting her hand on his arm.

“Ron, what happened?” she asked insistently and with more caring than he’d ever seen from her.

He closed his eyes for a moment as he debated what to say, or whether to keep quiet. “Nott shot a spell at me when I was alone. When I tried to defend myself, Snape came around the corner and accused me of casting magic first and that he never heard or saw Nott. He then took 50 points and made me go to the Headmaster. There he demanded my Quidditch badge and I think he was trying to get me off the team. The Headmaster only took my badge away but let me stay on the team. When I told McGonagall, she said she’d talk to him but didn’t have any hope of reversing it.” Now that he’d finished, he felt surprised at how much lighter he felt after getting that off his chest.

“That’s horrible!” Parvati said aghast.

“Seriously? He tried to get you off the team?” Ginny asked as she pushed her way through the crowd that was starting to form around him.

“Seems like it.” Ron snorted. “What to know something even worse? When I pushed Nott back,” he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to punching the Slytherin though it had felt good to retaliate that way, “the sleeves on his robe came up and I saw a Dark Mark on his left arm.”

“A Death Eater?” someone behind him hissed.

Ron turned but couldn’t tell who’d said it. “Yes.”

“This is so wrong,” Katie Bell said. “I really don’t have time to be Quidditch captain either. We need to get you that badge again.”

There were other mutterings, but Ron looked around and saw the seventh year Prefects again. He pulled on Monica’s sleeve to get her attention. “I need to write a quick letter to my parents about this, but will you and Helman walk me to the owlery?”

The girl looked at the male seventh year Prefect who’d moved to stand beside her. Monica nodded so Gary Helman said, “It would be better for us to send it for you. Write as fast as you can; we should be starting our Patrol shortly.”

“Thanks,” Ron said before he hurried up to his dorm room and found writing supplies. It was hastily written and his penmanship was terrible (which he’d apologized for at the end), but he was running back down to the common room ten minutes later.

The seventh year Prefects promised to send the letter immediately. Ron didn’t think the letter would help, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

[Sun, Oct 6]

Arthur Weasley sat with his wife in their living room as tonight’s meeting of the Order of the Phoenix wrapped up. He had had to work at it a bit, but he had maintained a calm air on the outside. His wife, however, had been fidgety to the point that he had to grab her wand hand and hold, caressing it lightly from time to time as he knew she liked all in order to keep her relatively calm.

As the meeting broke up, he looked at his wife and gestured towards a person, then he looked over at his sons and nodded, receiving a nod back from each. Ready to do what he felt he shouldn’t have to yet was determined to complete, he waited as patiently as he could for just a few moments longer.

When the last person finished talking to Dumbledore and headed for the door to leave, with Albus turning to follow, Arthur stepped forward. “Albus, a moment if you please?”

“Certainly, Arthur, what can I help you with?” Dumbledore said congenially.

Arthur watched Molly close the door behind Shacklebolt leaving only the two professors as visitors. “Albus, Minerva, please have a seat; I’d like to talk about Hogwarts for a few minutes.” While Dumbledore looked surprised, McGonagall didn’t bat an eye as she sat in her chair.

“Albus,” Arthur looked at him in the eye, “I received a most disturbing letter this morning and I’ve spent nearly the entire day considering it, despite having many other chores to do. Being the father of seven children, I know that they may be prone to stretch the truth at times in order to protect themselves, however I don’t believe that to be the case here. So I ask, Albus, what did your investigations uncover in regards to my son and the Nott boy?”

The Headmaster’s surprised look turned to a smile. “I’m sure it was just a minor misjudgment on his part, Arthur, but a small punishment never hurt anyone.”

“Albus, you are supposed to be our leader, one who upholds our laws and especially our values, showing us what is right and just by doing it yourself. So I ask again, what did your investigation show after you stripped the Quidditch captaincy from my son? What evidence did you find that Severus’s story was correct?”

“There was no need,” Albus said in his friendly tone, “I trust Severus and he wouldn’t lie to me about something like this.”

Arthur had to raise his hand in a “hold” gesture as his wife and oldest son let out unhappy sounds; he didn’t even want to know what sort of faces the twins were making behind him. “I see, you aren’t taking me seriously so I shall have to treat you as a wayward child, something I have a lot of experience with.”

Albus looked shocked. “Arthur--”

“No, you’ve had your turn to answer,” the father said seriously before turning to the other professor. “Minerva, what did your investigations find?”

McGonagall gave a disappointed look to her supervisor. “I found that Ms Brown, Ronald’s partner for the patrol, had become ill shortly after their patrol started so that he had to patrol alone. Madam Pomphrey is fairly certain her illness was caused by something foreign that was added to her food, though the method of delivery has yet to be determined.

“In addition, I discovered that Ms Parkinson, Mr Nott’s partner for the patrol, was asked to stay in the common room by Professor Snape who also told her he would accompany Mr Nott on his patrol to discuss a few issues. Therefore, it is not a coincidence that each of the Prefects was alone nor that Professor Snape just happened to be right around the corner -- just three weeks before the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch game.” McGonagall sent another disappointed look at Dumbledore.

“Minerva,” Dumbledore said shocked, “surely you misunderstood.”

“I did not misunderstand,” she told him frostily, angry he would question her but not Severus.

“Albus,” Arthur spoke up again, “why are you surprised that a … professional liar … would lie to you?”

“Excuse me?” Dumbledore said indignantly. “Severus is not a professional liar.”

“Oh?” Arthur returned calmly. “So every time he goes to see You-Know-Who he tells that monster that he’s a spy for us? Or are you trying to say he’s not really a spy for our side?” He heard a little giggle from his oldest son’s fiancée.

Dumbledore just blinked at the trap he’d not seen coming.

“Albus, you’ve made a mistake,” Arthur told him. “It happens to all of us; but as I tell my children, the measure of the person you are is shown by when and how you fix your mistake, as well as if you willingly repeat it again or not. Therefore, how do you plan to fix this?”

“I don’t think I can change this,” Dumbledore explained. “You must understand that I have to give a little extra leniency to Severus and the Slytherins to not cause more problems between the houses and to bring them to our side.”

Arthur shook his head slightly. “I was afraid you’d say that. Albus, I must therefore treat you as one of my children.” He saw shock on the Headmaster’s face and heard dual snickers from behind him. “Right this mistake of yours or there will be consequences you will not like. I can’t send you to your room or a number of other things I do with my children, but I can promise you there are things I can do you will not like if you don’t show everyone who knows about this that you uphold the values of the Light, which start with justice. Sacrificing one of our children to make the enemy happy is not one of those values we uphold -- or at least this family doesn’t.”

Dumbledore looked around and saw no support from anyone in the room, not even his deputy. “Let me consider your words,” he said as he rose.

Arthur rose too. “You have three days, Albus, to fix this. After that, I will start taking steps to back away as you will have shown you’re no leader of the Light. Please do the right thing, Albus; I don’t want to have do what I have planned and I know you won’t want me to do those things either. Good night.” He held out his hand to the side towards the door dismissing the older man.

– – –

Albus nodded thoughtfully at the dismissal, surprised Arthur could make him feel like a child again despite their ages. “Good night.” He walked to the door and couldn’t help to notice that Minerva was getting a much warmer send-off.

He waited outside for a moment until Minerva joined him, completely silent as she strode with a determined stride, forcing him to catch up and match her. “Minerva--”

“I don’t want to hear it, Albus. Arthur is completely right. You’re so blinded by your ideals as you try to save those who take advantage of you or else you have some complex scheme which you never share that you let the innocents suffer.” She stopped as they reached the edge of the wards to the house. “You’ve already sacrificed one family in the Potters, are you going to sacrifice the Weasleys too?”

He was shocked. “Minerva?! I’m not doing nor did I do any such thing. I only have the best of intentions that we might see the greater good come out of all the parts around us. Besides, what could he really do?”

“You lack imagination if you can’t come up with ways the Weasleys could hurt you,” she chided him. “For starters, there were six of them in there with two more coming of age soon. That’s eight people who could help the fight who would abandon you and probably walk by you without lifting a finger even if you were on fire. You never married nor had children of your own and I know your relationship with your brother is practically non-existent, so I’m not sure you truly understand what a father or family would do for one of their own. I know Arthur won’t go to the other side, but you will severely regret it if you test that man -- mark my words.” With that said, she Apparated away.

He stood there for several minutes trying to understand why they were making such a big deal over a Quidditch badge.

[Mon, Oct 7]

Albus Dumbledore tapped his knife on his goblet as he rose causing all heads to turn to him. “Thank you for your attention. I was told less than an hour ago that one of our Prefects, Mr Nott, was walking through the school when one or more people cast a spell at him from a hidden location which banished him over a railing to fall two floors. Fortunately, his injuries are not severe, but he will have to be hospitalized and miss class for at least two days.” He looked around for guilty looks but didn’t see any -- unfortunately.

“This sort of attack is barbarous, but if you will confess, I will be more lenient and you will not be expelled.” He looked around and was surprised to see Ron Weasley stand up; however, he didn’t look ashamed but defiant.

“Headmaster,” Ron started and then paused, “I didn’t do it nor do I know who did, but why should we care when Nott attacks others and isn’t punished for it.”

“Mr Weasley, I will not hear of attitudes like that proclaimed here,” Dumbledore admonished him.

“Then will you hear that we don’t care what happens to him because he’s a Death Eater?” Ron proclaimed to a number of gasps. “I saw the Dark Mark on his arm, just like the Dark Mark on Professor Snape’s arm.” More gasps were heard.

Dumbledore tried to stop this, but Weasley spoke up louder. “People like them killed two of my uncles, they killed Harry Potter’s parents, and the Death Eaters have killed a lot of good people like Cedric Diggory. They all should be in Azkaban!” Ron took his seat and saw a few affirmative nods from the Hufflepuff table.

“That is not a topic of discussion,” Dumbledore stated sternly as he glanced to his left and noticed that Severus looked livid at the pronouncement. “I want to know who attacked Mr Nott.”

The student body was abuzz with whispers and glances towards the Potions Master, but no one claimed responsibility for the attack. He finally sat back down and looked at Ron Weasley as he considered the damage to his plans and the war effort that the young man had just wrought. He wanted to have a pointed discussion with lad.

“This is your own fault,” he heard and looked over to see Minerva giving him a displeased expression. “I wouldn’t give him punishment for that if I were you because nothing he said was wrong, nor was any of it publically unknown before except for Mr Nott’s new mark. Severus’s past might not be well known, but it’s not a secret. As for Mr Nott, I believe I’ll have to be more careful around him. You should have told us, Albus; I have trouble believing you didn’t already know he was marked.”

“Do you realize how much damage Mr Weasley has caused to our efforts? This is bound to get out,” he returned.

“You can ignore the truth I’m telling you, but you should not ignore what Arthur Weasley has told you, as I know you still haven’t made things right, and therefore why this is all happening,” she told him. “I’ll say it again, ignore Arthur and his larger point at your own peril.” She stood and left.

Dumbledore looked around again and still saw many fearful looks towards Severus and even a few discontent looks towards himself from a number of Gryffindors. The year had been running mostly well. Why was it deteriorating so rapidly now?

[Tue, Oct 8]

Harry looked in the newspaper quickly when he arrived at work, as he did on most days. It was a small article at the bottom of page four that he would have missed if it had not been for “Death Eaters at Hogwarts” being the title.

He read about the two attacks at Hogwarts recently as well as the accusations of Severus Snape and Theodore Nott being Death Eaters, as reported by an anonymous student. The article ended with the question of just how safe the school was, even if the Headmaster claimed it was completely safe.

Harry smiled in amusement as several ideas floated through his head, most of which he couldn’t or maybe shouldn’t do. However, Ron was his friend and he didn’t like Snape as much as the man didn’t like him, plus he thought Dumbledore was being very disingenuous with his comment that “Hogwarts was completely safe”.

Grabbing a piece of blank parchment, he took about fifteen minutes to compose a letter and then put it in a pocket. At lunch, he’d go to Diagon Alley and use a delivery service to send it to the Daily Prophet.

He didn’t dislike Dumbledore all that much, he’d decided, but he wasn’t all that happy with him either. Dumbledore deserved to have his hand slapped for saying something blatantly stupid, Harry thought as he pulled out his notebook and considered what to work on today.

[Wed, Oct 9]

Neville chuckled at first then started to laugh quietly.

“What’s up?” Ron asked as they ate breakfast.

Neville folded the newspaper before he set it in front of Ron and pointed. Several others around him had questioning looks while a couple were turning the pages hastily to the Opinion page that Neville had pointed to.

Ron read:

Hogwarts is Unsafe

I’m not sure why Professor Dumbledore says “Hogwarts is completely safe”, because I never found it to be that way. I was involved in 3 life-threatening situations in my first year alone, and have had at least 1 life-threatening situation every year after that. It was a major factor in why I left Hogwarts after my 5th year.

Ron stared bug-eyed at the article because of its familiarity and then looked down at the end to see his best friend’s name. Amazed and pleased his friend was standing up for him, he continued on.

If you look at the records from the first war with [You-Know-Who] (we replaced the real name with the popular moniker, Ed.), you’ll see that Severus Snape was a Death Eater who was not tried on the word of Albus Dumbledore. So who’s side is Snape really on? His master who gave him the Dark Mark or his master who kept him out of prison?

As for Theodore Nott being a Death Eater, I’m not surprised. Again, the records say his father has the Dark Mark so it’s a case of the son following the father. The question here is why does the Headmaster allow a person like this to attend and put the school at risk?

I’m glad I’m not there now; who knows what bad thing would happen to me with 2 Death Eaters in the school.

Regards, Harry Potter

Ron could hardly believe it. He hadn’t talked to his friend, but Harry had believed the story in the newspaper yesterday and had written a letter to support him. “Thank you, Harry,” he breathed. He’d have to write a thank you letter to his friend.

Looking up to the head table, he saw that Dumbledore and Snape didn’t look very happy. Surprisingly, McGonagall was eating and looked as if nothing was wrong. Flitwick was in an intense conversation with Vector as the woman gestured with the newspaper.

Around the room, a number of students were talking a little more animatedly than normal.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Neville asked with a smile.

“Yes, it is,” Ron answered and then considered it some more. He leaned a little closer to his friend and whispered, “It may get more interesting. My dad wasn’t happy with the Headmaster for what he did.”

Neville nodded. “My Gran would have given him an earful, that’s for certain.”

– – –

As dinner was ending and Ron stood to leave, the Headmaster approached him. “Mr Weasley, I need a moment of your time; please follow me.”

Not sure what was going on but hoping to see his badge come back to him because it was the third day since his father spoken to Dumbledore. His father had written him and asked for Ron to let him know if Dumbledore didn’t make it “right” by Wednesday evening. Ron realized the older man had waited until almost the very last moment.

In the trophy room, Dumbledore said, “Mr Weasley, I have investigated the incident between you and Mr Nott and have found that I was not told the entire story. Therefore, 50 points to Gryffindor for a point correction and here is your Quidditch captain badge.

“On a separate topic, please do not ever share private information about Professor Snape again. You have put him in a difficult position and have made fighting the war harder, not to mention I have a number of letters from irate parents that I must now answer.”

Ron took the offered badge. “Thank you for this. I wasn’t aware that information about Professor Snape was private. As Harry pointed out in the newspaper, it’s public information from the trials.”

“Nevertheless, it does not need to be bandied about,” Dumbledore continued. “In addition, you’ve made it harder to convince Mr Nott to turn aside from his darker path. Many are looking at him differently now and not in a good way.”

“I don’t understand, Professor, he is different,” Ron complained.

“Please drop it, Mr Weasley; it’s good for no one and it makes it more difficult for the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Uh Professor, I’m not in the Order of the Phoenix and from what I’ve seen over the last year, I don’t have any plans to join,” Ron said. “Ginny has said the same.”

As Dumbledore stood there and looked at him in surprise but not saying anything, Ron shrugged and pinned the badge back on his robes as he left. With a smile, he returned to the Gryffindor common room.

There were a lot of smiles and black slapping when they saw the badge on his robes. He even got a hug from Katie Bell. The whole episode had been frustrating, but it wasn’t without it’s bright spots either, he decided.

After the mini-celebration died down, he wrote a quick letter to his parents and hurried to mail it before curfew. Yes, it had all worked out all right in the end.

[Sat, Oct 19]

Harry looked at his new cloak in the full-length mirror. It was the next version of the Unspeakable Cloak and he had been allowed to test it. The main difference was that it no longer had the distinctive ring bulge at his neck. That meant it looked more like every other cloak out there. So far, it had performed well for him, but Croaker was demanding tests, observations, and notes on it. This was one research project he had been happy to be a part of as he like the little extra protection it gave him when he wore it. Of course, today he wouldn’t be in disguise so he appreciated the protection a little more.

Leaving Longbottom Manor, he wondered what today might be like. He was a little early, but that was fine with him. Apparating to Hogsmeade, he started to walk around away from the main street.

Hogsmeade was the only Wizarding village in Britain. There were plenty of stores, as he’d visited many of them over the last few years since he’d been allowed to go. There were also houses here, for those that wanted to live here despite it being a little more expensive.

Harry walked around and looked, searching to see if any were for rent. The Wizarding World didn’t do flats, or at least he hadn’t found any here. The closest he thought he’d find was a flat over a store for its owner, but he had no plans to open a store. Still, he looked around as he wanted to have a place of his own and rebuilding Potter Manor would probably take years, especially since he wanted to do much of the work himself.

Noting the time was approaching when the students normally arrived, he headed for the Three Broomsticks. He wasn’t surprised he hadn’t found a place to rent as the rumor at work was that this was a popular place to live.

Entering the main pub, he found a table to seat four and pulled an extra chair over. He also ordered five Butterbeers and a tray of sandwiches and crisps. He was looking forward to seeing his friends. He had expected a note from Neville about this outing, but he was a little surprised to get a note from a second person as well.

He did wonder if he’d be getting a special visit from a certain professor. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that though. Honestly, he hoped the old man didn’t show up so he didn’t have to think about him.

Just after the drinks and food he’d ordered showed up, the first of the students started coming in. Harry grabbed a Butterbeer bottle and opened it before he started to slowly sip on it as he waited. He didn’t have long to wait until Ron led the pack in. A wave got their attention and they trouped over.

“Harry!” Ron exclaimed as he came over and took a seat.

“Ron, good to see you; help yourself,” Harry said though Ron had already started reaching for a bottle in the center of the table.

“Harry,” Neville said more sedately and with a grin as he took his seat.

Surprisingly, Luna walked passed a seat to stand next to him. “Stand please,” she told him expectantly and with utter calm. Not sure what was up, he stood and was surprised when she hugged him. “Nice cloak, my mother had--”

Harry hastily put two fingers over her mouth to stop her before he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Not a word about her cloak or what she did; we can talk later if you want -- alone.” He was surprised she’d recognized what this new cloak was, or really where it came from.

Her gray-blue eyes bore into his for a moment before she nodded. “No Wracksports for you,” she said as she stepped back and took a seat.

Before he could sit, Ginny stepped up after a strange look at Luna and gave him a hug. “It’s good to see you again, Harry.” She smirked at him as she said, “You’re looking well,” before she sat down next to him.

Harry chuckled at her handling herself better this time. “It’s good to see all of you.” He sighed. “I just wished our missing friend was here too.”

“Have you heard from her?” Neville asked.

“Yes, I have actually,” he told them, surprising them all. “She’s going to another magical school in another country. I haven’t heard about it too much, but she’s making a few friends and like we’d all expect she taking her classes seriously.”

Ron snorted, “No surprise there. Where is she?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Harry hedged.

“What address do you use for her letters?” Ron continued.

Harry smiled. “I don’t write her so I don’t have an address. I call her and speak with her every two or three weeks.”

“Oh,” Ron said, “I know, on a Felly-Phone.”

“No Ron,” Ginny spoke up when the other two didn’t say anything, “it’s a Telly. No, that’s not it,” she frowned and looked at Harry, “that’s close though, isn’t it?”

“Close,” he agreed with a grin. “It would be a telephone.” Ginny nodded and looked like she was trying to memorize that, though no one else seemed to care.

“How did you know to come today?” Luna asked. “We weren’t told of the trip until last night.”

Harry smiled at her. “Two people told me,” he said looking at Neville and then Ginny, who looked down for a moment before she looked back up with a determined expression.

“So what have you been doing?” Ron asked.

“Mostly working and revising on a few sixth year courses, probably much like you are,” Harry said.

“Bet you don’t have to do silent casting like Snape makes us do and you don’t have Snape,” Ron groused.

Harry pulled his wand out and silently levitated the tray in front of them to his friends’ surprise. “My tutors insisted that I learn to cast all of my spells silently, but you’re right, I don’t have anyone like Snape teaching me … thank Merlin.”

“So what do you do during the day?” Ginny asked.

“I go to work and do whatever is needed. I clean up things, move stuff around, you know, whatever odd jobs are needed,” Harry said with a shrug. “I also get some time to read my sixth year books and revise and sometimes even practice my spells. I have a pretty good supervisor.

“However,” he paused and took a deep breath, “while it was a lot of fun at first, now…” Harry shrugged again. “I don’t know, it’s not horrible or anything, but the fun has sort of worn off. I go to work five days a week because it’s my job.”

“I heard Dad once call it ‘the daily grind’,” Ginny offered.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, I could see calling it that.” He looked at them. “How is life for you?” He looked at Luna.

“About the same,” Luna answered, “except I think there may be more Nargles at school this year. I wonder if that’s because you’re not there.”

“I have no idea,” Harry replied smoothly. “Are the other Ravenclaws treating you better this year?”

“Mostly,” she answered but wouldn’t elaborate, making Harry wonder how small the better was.

“We’re trying to help out,” Neville added quietly.

“Good man, and you, Neville?” Harry looked at his secret summer friend.

“Fairly well. Professor Sprout is allowing me to work in the more dangerous greenhouses this year.” Neville smiled broadly. “I’m thinking about trying to find a job in Herbology one day.”

“I’m sure you’d be good at it.” Harry looked at Ginny.

“It’s a hard year with OWLS,” the redheaded girl said, “but there are a few bright spots. I’m a Chaser this year. We found a third year to be Seeker who’s not too bad though not nearly as good as you are.”

When she quit talking, Luna added, “And there’s Dean.”

Ginny blushed and looked down.

“What about Dean?” Harry asked in amusement at her reaction.

“They’re dating,” Ron growled.

Harry was surprised, at least at first. As he considered it briefly, he decided he shouldn’t be surprised as Ginny was turning into a lovely young woman. Hermione must have been correct that she was over him. He wasn’t sure why, but that made him a little sad as if he’d lost something. Her voice brought him back to reality.

“Oh, and what are you and Lavender doing?” Ginny returned a little annoyed.

Ron opened his mouth to retort and then snapped it shut.

Neville chuckled. “Ginny and Dean have been together almost a month. I think Ron and Lavender made it official only earlier this week, though they’ve been dancing around it for a while.”

Ron looked down for a moment before he said suddenly. “I’m going to get some more sandwiches.” He left to go do so.

Harry chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Ginny asked with interest.

“Me, hardly,” Harry snorted, “I can’t see that happening anytime soon.” He sighed. “That’d be kind of hard actually, and I don’t really have time for it.”

“One day…” Ginny teased.

Ron returned with a bowl of crisps. “More sandwiches are coming,” he said as he grabbed a handful of the snack.

Harry shook his head in chagrin, but movement near the door and it coming toward him cause him to pay attention and his smile fell. He’d wished this wasn’t going to happen, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be granted that wish.

“Hello, Harry,” said a familiar baritone voice, causing his friends’ heads to snap in that direction.

“Hello, Albus,” Harry said neutrally.

The old man didn’t show any surprise at his given name being used. “I’d like you to join me on a walk outside so that we might talk more privately.”

There it was, the boy thought, and here it goes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time since I’m here to see my friends.”

“I must insist,” Dumbledore said seriously, “and it won’t take long.”

Harry noticed the noise in the room was diminishing as more tried to listen in. “Except that I must insist you continue on your way. I really am here to see my friends and have not set aside any time to talk you.” He felt a little tingle on his Occlumency shields so he gave a push and Dumbledore looked surprise as his head jerked back a little. “Good-bye, Albus,” he said with a hint of steel in his voice.

“We’ll talk later,” Dumbledore told him before he turned and headed back towards the door and then left. Only then did the conversations start again. Ron’s sandwiches also were delivered by Rosemerta who was giving him an surpised look.

“Good, I’m still hungry.” Ron grabbed a sandwich before he looked at Harry. “Why didn’t you want to talk with him?”

It was an easy-going question, which Harry took to mean Ron was merely curious, which he supposed he could understand. The others looked curious too. “Because I really did come here to see all of you, not get into an argument about where I’ve been, or I think that would have happened.”

Neville nodded. “Probably true.”

Dean and Seamus walked up and called, “Hi,” to Harry. Dean also put a hand on Ginny’s shoulder.

“I need to go as I promised Dean I wouldn’t leave him alone too long.” Ginny smiled at him as she rose and patted him on the shoulder. “Take care, Harry, and I’ll talk with you next time.”

As the three of them left, Ron finished his sandwich. “I should go find Lavender too.” He slapped Harry on the shoulder. “Good to see you, mate. Later.”

Harry blinked at Ron as he left before Harry looked at Neville.

“I don’t need to be anywhere else, nor does Luna.” She nodded her agreement.

Harry looked towards the door again and watched his friend leave. “You know, I can mostly see that working for Ron and Lavender, and yet I can’t.”

Neville shrugged so Harry looked at Luna. “Three months at the most,” she said quietly.

“If I wasn’t a friend I’d start a betting pool,” Neville said quietly with a grin.

“I’d say talk to the twins,” Harry said before the two boys started laughing and Luna actually giggled.

“What else is new at school?” Harry asked when he got his breath back.

[Fri, Oct 26]

Croaker and Betty entered the room and conjured seats for themselves. “All right, time for a status update,” the Department head said. “Betty?”

“I think I’ve gleaned everything from the memory that I can,” Betty said. “I’ve worked up a spell, but trying it on a lab rat has been unsuccessful. This leaves me with two possibilities, or so I think. The most obvious is that I haven’t really figured out the spell, or this can’t be done on a rat.”

“Or both,” Croaker added.

Betty nodded, “Or both. I’m not chuffed on the idea, but I could use one of our victim’s here to find out if the recipient must be a magical human -- they each have ten toes plus ten fingers that we don’t plan for them to ever use again.”

Harry looked down and felt a little ill, though he could understand her argument logically.

“Despite my misgivings,” Betty said, “it might come down to that. I do have one other question that I’d want to answer first though.” At Croaker’s inquisitive look, she added, “I’d like Mike to join me in the memory one more time. I’m starting to wonder if Parseltongue was used or not as it almost sounds like there is a hissing but I’m not sure about that.”

“And if so,” Croaker extended her idea, “then maybe that’s required. Yet the theory of magic says it shouldn’t matter, that the intent of the spell is enough.”

“Unless,” Dupree jumped in, “there’s something more going on.”

Betty and Croaker nodded. “Mike?” Betty asked.

Harry nodded. “Sure, we can check the memory after this meeting.”

“Very good, Mike?” Croaker looked at the next person.

“I’ve learned how to call a single Death Eater, or at least I can do that for any one of these three using another Death Eater. I believe,” Harry stressed, “that I’ve also figured out how to call all Death Eaters, but I’m not going to test that right now.”

The others chuckled a little nervously. “Thank you,” Betty said and Croaker motioned him on.

“I’m fairly certain there are other functions it can do, but Dupree and I haven’t had much luck figuring those out.” Harry paused as he didn’t want to say this. “I think I’m going to need help from a spell-crafter or someone who can help me look at existing magic and figure out how to get there.”

“I’m not surprised. I’ll get Heather to lend you a hand, though she can’t be told everything about the project, just that we’re trying to understand the Dark Mark. I’ll talk to her. Dupree? Croaker looked at the Curse Breaker.

Dupree sighed heavily. “I’ve researched all I can over the last couple of months and I’ve made discreet inquiries starting with Freddie and then others in this field and no one is aware of a ritual to take a Soul Jar and turn it back into a body. That leaves me with either he found a source that is very obscure, or else he created a ritual himself. The two ideas seem equally possible to me, but the first is more likely to be true.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Therefore,” Dupree said with a grimace, “We’ll have to do it the old fashioned way: find all the containers then cut his head off, or whatever we can get to work.” He looked over. “Sorry, Mike.”

“Not your fault, I appreciate you trying,” Harry told him.

“Let’s not be so hasty towards gloom and doom,” Croaker told them with a broad grin. “I thought I’d remembered reading about a ritual to recall all parts of a soul together assuming you had at least one part … and I found it.”

“Yes,” Dupree hissed with a pumped fist in satisfaction, while Harry grinned and Betty looked surprised.

“Unfortunately, this also mean we need to find a fragment.” Croaker looked at Harry and then at Dupree. “Do you still have that fragment you pulled out of Harry?”

Dupree deflated. “No, I wasn’t able to do anything useful with it and I was worried something bad might happen, so I threw the block that contained it through the Veil of Death.”

Everyone else sagged too. “Again unfortunate,” Croaker said, “but I’m not surprised nor is it a fatal mistake. It just means we have to find another. I’ll work with Dupree on where we might try to another part, unless you have an idea, Mike?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not at the moment. Well, unless you’re willing to ask Dumbledore.”

“I’m not that desperate yet,” Croaker said, but it is an idea. “Until next week, carry on.”

[Wed, Oct 31]

Heather entered the project room with him for her first time. She looked around for a moment. “So this is it? I’d expected more for some reason.”

“Three Death Eaters isn’t enough of a surprise?” he asked.

“When Croaker said you were studying the Dark Mark, I knew there would have to be at least one here.” She shrugged. “So, what did you want to do?”

Harry led her over to one of the Death Eaters. “The question is,” he pointed at the Mark, “how can we figure out everything that can do? I know it links them in some way so that you can call one or call all. It might be able to call a small group, but I haven’t been able to figure that out. Since it can call them, then it’s obvious that it can also act like a homing beacon so they know where to come to it.”

“Very well, let’s take a look,” she said as she pulled her wand out.

Harry watched her do a few spells before she stopped and looked at the Mark intently. “Can I ask a question?”

“You can ask,” she said absently as she continued looking at the Mark.

“How does it work to be both a spell-crafter and an expert in divination? Those two things don’t seem to go together.” He watched her look up at him in a grin.

“That’s very common question from those that know me and what I do.” She stood up straight, ignoring the Mark. “I’m a spell-crafter, it’s what I enjoy and have trained for. Divination is just a talent, something I treat like a hobby. Oh, I can tell you all about Tarot Cards, reading tea leaves, and all of that rot, of which there is a little talent, but the big game is Prophecies and for them either you have gift or you don’t.”

“All right,” he said slowly, “that makes sense. But I have to ask, how do you know what you’ve said for the Prophecies? My experience is the speaker doesn’t remember them.”

Her eyes lit with excitement. “Who have you seen make a prophecy?”

Realizing his mistake, he said, “I’ve been told by someone that Sybil Trelawney made one and has no idea that she did.”

Heather harrumphed. “Her? That quack? If she made a real one then it was probably the only one she’s ever done.”

Harry found her thoughts amusing even if he knew the number was probably two. “I wouldn’t know how good she is, but how do you know what you say?”

She studied him for a moment before she seemed to mentally shrug and look down as well as point at the broach on her robes a little over her heart. “That’s always recording my voice, don’t worry, it’s not doing yours as it’s only attuned to me. I keep it on me within arm’s reach at all times, and I do mean at all times. There is a bit of a magic surge when a Prophecy happens, and it’s tuned for those too, which causes it to light up. I try to check it hourly or so. If it’s lit, I make it replay what it has and I listen so I can write down what I said.”

He was surprised. “Wow, that’s pretty amazing work.”

“Took me years to get the detection part working,” she said and then hesitated for a moment. “Mike, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, wondering what she’d asked. Probably about the prophecies he’d confirmed, or so he guessed.

“How long ago did you finish Hogwarts?” she asked quietly.

Harry blinked at her for a long moment. “I did not expect that one.” He saw her look down at her wand in front of her. “With our disguises, we all look to be about the same age,” he said, mostly thinking out loud, “but we’re not since magicals can live a long time.” After another moment he answered, “I’m near what I look like.”

Heather nodded and looked up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked but I was curious.”

“Why?” He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know and yet he did.

“You’re very different to figure out,” she told him. “You clearly know and act like you’re older, yet I’ve seen you also not know a few things I’d expect everyone to know.” She hastily added, “You don’t have to answer; privacy is respected here.”

He nodded, relieved she was letting him off the hook so easily. “I’ve seen things no one should, yet I’ve also been sheltered in other areas.” He shrugged. “It’s all I’ll say.”

“Thanks for answering that much. Let’s get back to our work and see what we can figure out.” She bent forward and resumed looking at the Dark Mark, watching it move slightly.

In some way, it was just another mostly usual day at work, although he wondered why she wanted to know about his age.

– – –

Harry Apparated “home” feeling both content and restless. He was content because Heather had found something he and Dupree hadn’t, though she didn’t know what she’d found yet. His restlessness probably came from the date, or so he thought.

Dinner with Lady Longbottom was much like usual. They talked quietly of politics and whatever else they thought interesting, usually from reading the newspaper. He’d come to appreciate her quiet but formal demeanor. He viewed her something like how an aunt should be though she was really of his grandparents’ generation.

After dinner, they retired to the family room. There, she turned on the Wireless to the station for older music, the only station that she listened to. She also had her glass of Port wine and a book. Harry had two books: one for reading and one notebook to record ideas. One might call all of this boring as it’s what they did most eventings, but there was also an appreciation for it being a known and stable part of his life at the moment.

“Lady Longbottom, a question if I may?”

“Of course, Harry.”

He appreciated her willingness to answer his questions, even the stupid ones -- though those also gathered a certain look. “I was thinking about rebuilding the Potter Manor house. Do you know any good builders I could contact about doing it or at least for buying building materials from if I decide to do it myself.”

“Do it yourself?” she exclaimed softly aghast. “That would be a monumental task. I shudder to think about the effort it would take to rebuild this house, though if it were destroyed then we’d have to find a way. Hmm, I do know of one person I’d mostly trust, at least with a good contract to guarantee a few things.

“Stolli!” she called out. When the elf appeared, she said, “My address book, please.” The elf left and returned a few seconds later with said book.

“Let’s see,” she said as she paged through the small book. “Yes, here he is. Pliny Tate, he has an office in Hogsmeade. He’s sharp and knows his business, but he’s also crafty; be careful with him. Be very precise with what you want or he’ll bend vague instructions to his advantage over yours every time.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he wrote the name down in his notebook. He’d try to visit the man on Saturday, or maybe Friday afternoon would be better. He also considered building the house himself, though it’d take years. He’d have to research that; something for tomorrow during lunch in the library at work.

Augusta sighed and looked at him critically. “One day you’ll be leaving, just as one day Neville will be taking over here. You’re both growing up and coming of age. It is both exciting and sad. If only Frank and Alice were able to be here and understand.”

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say, but apparently he didn’t need to as she returned to her book.

The rest of the evening was quiet and Harry appreciated that, given what Halloween was invariably like when he was at Hogwarts.

– – –

At the Leaky Cauldron, two women sat in a small booth on the side of the room, a privacy spell around them, like a third of all the other tables had at the moment.

As Betty finished laughing at a joke, Heather turned serious. “Betty, I really need to know something.”

Betty stifled her laughter further and asked, “What?” in an amused tone.

“You know who everyone really is too like Croaker does, right?”

Betty went to completely serious instantly. “You know I can’t tell you who anyone is.”

“I know, but I do want to know something else. It’s about Mike,” Heather said and blushed slightly.

Betty raised one eyebrow and in her most serious voice yet that was also a bit protective asked, “What about him?”

“How old is he?” Heather blurted out. “There’s something very interesting about him; I think I might like him, you know, more than as a peer.”

This time both of Betty’s eyebrows shot up in surprise for a moment before she burst out laughing again.

“What?” Heather said a little upset, not expecting that reaction.

It took a moment before Betty regained control of herself. “Heather,” then she giggled and had to control that. “Heather, it wouldn’t work out, I promise. You lost a husband but Mike’s never been married; you two aren’t near the same point in life.”

Heather looked down. “He seems so nice.”

Betty snorted with humor. “He is nice, he’s also nowhere near your age. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Heather told her, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself by asking him out for a drink.”

Betty smiled genuinely this time. “Ask him along with several others to go as a group and he’d probably go. I’ll come.”

“Thanks,” Heather told her before she stiffened. In a gravelly voice she said, “The rat is the key to the treasure.”

Betty blinked and watched her friend suddenly come back to reality.

“I need to go. I have some laundry to do.”

“Check your broach,” Betty ordered her.

Heather looked down then gasped. “Just now?”

“Yeah, and I think that one was for me, or I believe so,” Betty said as she considered the prophecy and her work.

Heather listened to the recording and wrote it down. “I’m glad that means something to you because I don’t have a clue. Oh, I promised to tell Mike if I had any of these.”

“It’ll be interesting to see if he agrees with my conclusion,” Betty said as she took the privacy spell down. “See you at work tomorrow.”

Betty would find out the next day that Mike did agree with her that “the rat” was the key to her figuring out the artificial limb spell … assuming that was the treasure spoken of.

[Thu, Nov 1]

The next morning, Harry checked the newspaper and sighed. There had been a Death Eater attack against a family of Muggleborns last night. The mother and a daughter had survived; the husband had given his life for them to escape. This was the second small attack this week. As of a month ago, every week seemed to bring one or two of these lately. He really wanted this war over as the attacks were increasing in frequency.