Chapter One Homecoming

Harry had forgotten what had taken place at number four Privet Drive the day that he left, just months before. It didn’t really have much impact until he stepped in the front door almost a year later and then it all rushed back at him; the Dementors showing up in the alley, the surprise at finding Mrs. Figg was a squib and that he was being watched, the flurry of owls that had brought his uncle to hysterics and then the surprise that his aunt had been in touch with the wizarding world.

Harry stepped into the familiar downstairs hallway and felt his gloomy spirit deepen. His uncle walked past him brushing his shoulder, still angry at the treatment he’d received at the train station. Dudley had departed almost immediately for different environs and that left Harry standing at the bottom of the staircase with his trunk, Hedwig’s cage and his aunt standing in front of him, staring at him.

He stared back. He didn’t speak.

He was a year older and wiser and he’d just watched Sirius die. Harry didn’t think there was anything his aunt or uncle could say or do that would make him feel like he was a child again. However, the weight of Sirius’ death and his responsibility for it was enough to put him on edge. Enough that if she pushed too far he knew he’d come apart and he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

“We’ve had a very quiet year here, Harry,” she said, her voice steady. “We’ve had word from your headmaster that you will only have to stay here a month. If you do your chores as always, keep your room clean and follow the rules, then we shouldn’t have any problems. I am to expect someone to pick you up at the end of the month. I’m not going into any explanations of how difficult it was for your uncle and myself last fall. We do not want a repeat of that. I have reassurances that Dudley and Vernon and I are safe while you’re here, otherwise I simply would not tolerate it. I ask also that you do not speak to your uncle, stay outside or in your room as much as possible and be as quiet as possible.”

Harry continued to stare.

She seemed less composed at his lack of protest and hurriedly finished what she was saying, “You…you are not to use ma…mag….”

“Magic,” Harry finished for her.

“Yes, you are not to do that at all, for any reason.” She flushed red and turned to follow Vernon down the hall to the kitchen. “Go to your room.”

He watched her hurry down the hall to the kitchen and stood looking at his heavy trunk and the flight of stairs. He began the arduous task of pulling the trunk up the stairs one step at a time.

---

Harry sat for a long time on his bed thinking. The world was in as much disarray as his feelings. Voldemort was strong, alive and out in the wizarding world. Cornelius Fudge was now aware as was everyone else, that Harry and Dumbledore had not been lying. It didn’t help much because no one was any safer than they had been the first time Voldemort had come to power. His own name was cleared as was Dumbledore’s, although Harry didn’t care much now whether people believed him or not.

Members of the Order were putting their lives on the line every day as they had before; like his own parents, the Longbottoms and others, to stop Voldemort. Harry stared at the wall. It was all happening again, only this time the outcome rested on his shoulders. If he lost… He shuddered and closed his eyes wishing the thought would go away. But it danced just at the edge of his thinking and he couldn’t make it disappear.

Even the growing darkness of his room and the oncoming evening didn’t have an effect, nor did the growling in his stomach or the dryness of his throat. He lay on his bed and thought; until he thought he could not stand it any longer.

Harry waited until the murmurings of voices and the clinking of china ebbed away and he knew that his aunt, uncle and Dudley had finished dinner. No one had thought to call him for supper. He waited until he heard the sound of the television stop. Then each member of the family climbed the stairs and there was some activity involved in getting to bed, a door opening, water running and soft mumblings. Doors closed and the night closed in.

Harry stood and opened the door and listened; waiting. He shoved his wand into his pocket and crept down the stairs and out into the night. He took a deep breath as if he had escaped a prison and listened to the streets sounds. People were settling in for the night and only a few lights remained on in the houses along the street.

He started walking, wanting more than anything for the feelings he carried to dissipate out into the night. It was easier to deal with them when he could walk. He felt suffocated lying in his room.

Something’s got to give, he thought, or I’ll go mad. He smiled at that as he walked. They can put me in a room next to Gilderoy Lockhart, he thought. I wonder if Voldemort would think to find me there? We could sign autographs together since we’re both famous. He snorted at the thought and moved on.

He crossed the street and walked on. It grew later and the streets quieter.

If I stay, he thought, then I have to go to number twelve Grimmauld place when I leave the Dursleys. He swallowed hard and walked on, running his hand along the peaks of a picket fence. The thought of returning to Sirius’ house brought that horrible feeling back in his chest. He could almost feel the tears welling up and his throat tightened. Fighting them back, he found himself standing in front of a dark house, just staring at it. For a second, he couldn’t think what he’d been thinking about. His mind was a total blank. Then it was back. Ah yes, Grimmauld Place, his head whispered.

It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn’t sure where he was. The street didn’t look familiar and it curved ahead so that he couldn’t see what was further up the street. It was poorly illuminated by only a few street lamps and it was deadly silent. Harry turned on his heel and pulled his wand out. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he’d made a serious error in judgment and had not been watching his surroundings.

It was an older neighborhood, away from the manicured lawns of Privet Drive. This was a street with crumbling stone walls that hid small ancient houses behind it . The street lamps were old fashioned and barely gave off any light. Here and there he found a gate and an alleyway that stretched into inky blackness. It reminded him of the night the Dementors had attacked him and Dudley. He shied away from it and rounded the corner. He stopped dead. Sitting on a bench under a street light sat a lone figure. Harry was holding his breath and eased it out slowly, pondering his choices.

He could tell very clearly that the figure was dressed in wizarding robes and not Muggle clothing and yet, there were few other details. He couldn’t distinguish the face or even the general size of the figure; whether it was male or female. Harry knew that he could retrace his steps, cross to the other side of the street, walk up to or by the person on the bench.

Harry found his feet guiding him towards the sitting figure and then stopping in front of it. He was able to tell that it was a grizzled old man who sat with his head down and the only thing visible was a stubbly chin. His hood was pulled over the rest of his face and a broom stick was leaning against his shoulder.

“You ’ave a death wish boy?” the man asked him quietly.

“Who are you?” Harry asked angrily. “Are you following me and watching me? You know, I don’t need to have my hand held. I can take care of myself!” Harry knew the words that flew from him were not for the man seated in front of him. He wasn’t angry at this stranger; but he was angry. And he didn’t have any idea what to do about it. He stood glaring down at the man daring him to make the wrong move.

The stranger looked up, his face partially lit by the street lamp. He was a man in his fifties, with several days growth of beard. His clothes were moderately neat, but old. He looked like the kind of man who lived by himself and didn’t have anyone to care for him.

“Yes, that’s what I’m here to do; watch you,” he said simply. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“Well you can tell Dumbledore I’ve made it home safely,” Harry said it sarcastically and made to walk on.

“And what if it wasn’t Dumbledore that sent me?” the man asked. He remained sitting and shifted his broom to the other side.

That stopped Harry. He watched for the other to pull out a wand. He was ready. He wanted to fight. He wanted to fight and hurt someone and if it meant that he was injured or killed that was all right too.

He’d walked through the Department of Mysteries and fought Death Eaters and hadn’t got a scratch on him. Yet his friends had been hurt and his godfather had died. He wanted to fight. The hand that held his wand, itched, and ached to be used.

The other wizard was wary. “Thought that would stop you,’ he said.

“If’ you’re one of Voldemort’s followers then stand and fight me. If you’re a friend of Dumbledore’s then you’re wasting my time. I can take care of myself. Run back to him and tell him everything is all right,” Harry stood resolute his jaw sat and his wand now out in front of him. They stood within the circle of light cast by the lamp and appeared almost like the only two people left in the world.

“I can’t say that I am a follower of Voldemort,” the man said, shaking his head, “nor of Dumbledore.”

Harry was surprised that he had said the Dark Lord’s name. But he waited for the man to make the first move.

“I guess I should make it clear that I’ve not been sent by Dumbledore, not exactly. Although he did seek me out with a request concerning you. Now, you should know that I don’t exactly call him a friend, although I don‘t count him among my enemies either.” The man stood slowly. “My name is Humphrey Peabody. Most people consider me a sort of a social outcast. I, on the other hand, consider myself a scholar, a friend to wizard and Muggle alike.” He bowed his head a little and smiled.

When he stood, he pulled his hood back to reveal his face. Harry studied him more closely. His hair was almost white and there was not much left of it. He was bald almost back to his crown and what was left of his hair fell to his shoulders in gossamer white strands. He was small. Almost the same height as Harry. It was hard to tell with the robes concealing almost his entire body, but he was slim almost frail in body. It brought the image of a leprechaun to Harry’s mind, although he couldn’t fathom where the idea had come from.

“I once worked at Hogwarts as a teacher and of course was employed by Albus. We two never saw eye-to-eye on many things and so it was easy for me to leave after a course of time went by,” the other mused, rubbing his chin. Harry listened, his wand still pointed towards the man. Humphrey continued, “He sent a message to me this evening and out of curiosity I thought I‘d come to visit you. Mind I don‘t visit people often. As a matter of fact, I haven‘t been out of my rooms for…well let’s see- several years now, other than to have a little dinner now and again. But I thought I‘d carry out this little task on my own.”

Harry bristled at the words. “Little task!”

Humphrey held his hand up, “Sorry, poor choice of words. Just let me say that Albus has got you all stirred up about this prophecy thing. Something I wasn’t keen on believing myself when it was revealed for the first time.”

“You know about the prophecy,” Harry hissed.

The other nodded, “Oh, yes.”

“What are you here for?” Harry asked circling his opponent.

“Well, I guess you could call me a connoisseur, Mr. Potter,” Peabody said carefully. “ I study the events that go on in the world. Some events are more interesting than others; some lead to more interesting results if you take my meaning. There seems to be a pool of events occurring around you all of the time. I thought I‘d come and see it in person.”

Harry shook his head in confusion.

“For instance…” the man was shaking his head along with Harry, “this death of Sirius and Voldemort’s rise. All very interesting. Albus drew my attention to you and the part you played in these events. Of course, I have watched you for years. You seem to create a sort of maelstrom of events wherever you are.” The man smiled again and Harry wasn’t amused; he continued to frown. The man must have realized he was being insensitive. He suddenly leaned forward and said very kindly, “He knew that you were angry and suffering from guilt and feeling very confused.”

Harry snorted and looked into the darkness beyond them.

“Well those were his words,” Peabody said. “I think Albus is too old to remember having a feeling actually.” He shook his head slightly, not looking at Harry who had swung around to stare at him. “Well maybe that’s not being polite. He does try in his own way, I suppose.” Humphrey turned and seemed to notice Harry staring. “Not that you aren’t suffering boy, it’s just that everyone around Albus always seems to be so…so melodramatic. He sort of engenders that in people. I on the other hand, have been in my little attic for so long, my feelings and sensitivities are rather moldy with age.”

“What are you going on about?” Harry felt his anger seeping away as he caught himself listening against his will.

“You know people think I’m terrible. Always have,” Peabody said, taking up his broom and stepping out of the circle of light and walking down the street. “Always have had a way of looking at what others felt as inconsequential or superfluous; over the top some might say. I tend to think of myself as a hardened critic of life. Never believed in anything until it was proven to me and don‘t have much use for the softer things in life, like emotions.” He turned and waited for Harry. “But they do serve a purpose sometimes. They generate and lend power to events. You coming boy?”

Harry started after him, not quite keeping up, but listening to the endless chain of chatter. The man seemed impervious to the dark and the shadows along the walk, as if the threat of the Dark Lord attacking them was inconsequential.

“You see I have lived by myself for many a year, well almost by myself; isolated and living a delightful life in my study. I go out for a spot of wine and dinner once a week and then straight home. Of course, don’t take me wrong, I do read the news. Although how much credence can you give to the Daily Prophet? You have to read between the lines to see what’s really happening in the world. I have other sources of course. Some of them better than that rag. And, I have followed the course of your adventures, dear boy. With some interest I might add.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said a few feet behind. “Call me Harry, just Harry.” He almost ran into the back of the man who stopped and looked back.

“Very well, Harry,” Peabody said. “You may call me Peabody as most do. Now, as I was saying. I followed what was going on in the Daily Prophet. Aghhh, that Delores Umbridge,” he tut-tutted and shook his head. “I remember her from school. Power hungry then and still is. Got her come-uppance now though it seems. Umbridge will probably end up in the same cell in Azkaban as Cornelius Fudge and good riddance to them both!” He stomped on and Harry hurried to catch up, “So, Harry, it seems that our Tom Riddle has gotten loose in the world again and is up to his old tricks and you dear-…ah, Harry, you‘ve been told that you are the Champion of the wizarding world. Well!” The man stopped short and scratched his jaw, peering into the dark. “Heavy, heavy burden, that.”

“Aren’t you afraid of Voldemort?” Harry asked. They were making more noise than Harry thought was wise as they walked along the street.

Peabody looked at him as if surprised that he was standing there. He seemed to be deep in thought. “Voldemort? Oh, good heavens no! He’s up to his elbows in the Dark Arts that’s for sure, but he’s not invincible. Just a step up from Malfoy and the others. Like a house of cards, dear boy- er, Harry. Once one falls they all come tumbling down. History tells us there have been many others. They do wreak havoc on the population though.” Peabody stood in the middle of a deserted dark intersection and turned in a circle. Harry stood at his side and watched. “I know all about your parents and such. Sad thing about them and their death. Good people, too.”

“What do you know about my parents?” Harry asked. He was starting to feel mildly dizzy as Peabody continued to spin around and speak at the same time. He was having trouble following the words and the man. “Stop doing that! Here, this way,” he finally slowed the wizard down and pointed down a familiar street.

“Oh, knew them both,” Peabody said without pausing and referring to Harry‘s question about his parents. “Taught them in school you know. At Hogwarts.” He used the broom handle as a staff and marched off down the street, the bristles of the broom standing in the air. “History is an important thing, a guidepost if you will. So very important it is,” he said continuing to mumble and walk.

Harry didn’t think any wizard he ever knew would treat their broom as Peabody was doing. He also was curious about the man who knew his parents. He followed him from one dark area to one lit area as they marched down the middle of the street.

“Why did you come? You say Dumbledore didn‘t send you, but sent you a message about me?” Harry asked as they entered the interconnecting street to Privet Drive. “You aren’t friends and you don’t seem awfully worried about Voldemort, but you seem to know a lot about…everything,” Harry said frowning. What Harry also wanted to say was that Peabody didn’t look like he could fight a First Year student in dueling let alone a Deatheater. He seemed a very poor choice for a body guard.

“Perhaps I don’t look very formidable,” Peabody said staring up the street. “But I can handle myself. I’ve already told you I know about Sirius. Albus thought you might be feeling guilty about what happened in the Department of Mysteries.”

“What would you know about it,” once again Harry felt the crushing weight of his guilt and was instantaneously angry.

“See, there you are. He was right,” Peabody smiled. “You do feel responsible.” He held up his hand when he saw Harry bristle again, the wand raised to his face. “I understand, I understand.” He nodded and once again seemed distracted. “Things happen you know. Sometimes we can’t make it any different and we can get trapped questioning every action we take so that we stop taking any action at all. I think Albus worries that is what will happen to you. Anyway, in answer to your question, I’ve come with a proposal,” He shrugged as he spoke. “While you’re trying to sort it all out, I thought perhaps you might want to come and stay with me. I‘m not really interested in being your nanny if you‘re worried about it. Albus can find someone else to watch you if that’s the whole ticket.”

“Stay with you?” Harry asked, once again puzzled. The man was a total stranger.

“I know you have to remain here with your relatives for a month. But perhaps after that... A chance to get away from it all, a new environment, if you like,” he turned to Harry and for the first time he looked deadly serious, “Up to you of course.” Then he turned and stared up into the night.,

Harry looked up too. “What are you looking for?” he asked. He thought the man might be on the lookout for wizards or witches flying over head. His silhouette reminded him of the Centaurs who were notorious star gazers; easily lost in their sole vigils.

“Oh, the fruit bats are flying now,” Peabody said abruptly. “Spring is the best time to see them.” A dog barked in a yard and then there was a hiss and yowl of a cat taking off across a trash bin.

Harry felt the hair rise on his arms and he shivered involuntarily. For the first time that night he felt nervous.

Peabody walked him towards the dark house on Privet Drive.

Harry no longer felt angry and exhausted. He wasn’t sure at the moment if he was ready for a confrontation with Voldemort or any of his Deatheaters like he had been when he left the house hours before. He stared at the strange man and then glanced up at the half moon riding high in the night sky.

Peabody flipped his broom over and climbed on. “I’ll come back in a month. It’s my understanding that you’d have to stay at Sirius’ house until the school term started again. There isn’t anyone that’s going to be there besides you and that filthy elf, Kreacher. If you decide you want to join me, then I’ll come for you.” Harry watched as the man stepped over the broom handle and took off.

“How will I contact you? Harry asked.

“I’ll know,” the voice came back.

He dropped to the cement stoop at #4 Privet Drive and sat watching the night sky, alone and very confused.

Chapter Two Harry Arrives

Harry spent the days leading up to his sixteenth birthday studying. When he wasn’t pruning the hedges, dusting the lounge or painting the garden bench, he was owling Hermione. She was the only one he knew that would have access to books from the wizarding world. He’d received letters from Remus and Ron, even Mad-Eye Moody. Dumbledore had not written but sent comments to him through others.

Harry sat all the letters aside, composing a letter for each one of them in return, but not sending them. He had decided almost on the night of his birthday that he was going to accept Peabody’s offer. Now all he had to do was settle his affairs, which included sending off the letters. Borrowing Hermione’s owl, which had arrived with a birthday present, Ron’s owl Pig and several others, he’d dispatched the single letters to their recipients. He watched as Hedwig took flight with the one meant for Remus.

Lupin had written to let him know that he was expected to join him in an solicitors office for the reading of Sirius’ will. Harry felt the familiar rush of pain again as he studied Remus’ neat, precise handwriting. There were many things he wished for, but something willed to him from his godfather, was one of the last. He sat the letter aside. He knew that he would be gone by the time Hedwig delivered his response.

The others, Hermione and Ron, were going to be worried and hurt by what he told them he intended to do. He’d found out from his reading that Humphrey Samson Raleigh Peabody had been a teacher at Hogwarts at the same time his parents were students. Hermione had managed to dig out an old book with the history of the teachers and students.

Harry looked around him at the pile of books gathered at his feet. Over the course of the month Hermione had sent him quite a collection, always with an attached letter.

Dear Harry,

Here are two of the books that you asked for and I’ve sent a third that might be helpful. I wish you could tell me what it is you’re looking for and I might be able to help. Truthfully, these books are all very ‘dark’ if you take my meaning and that worries me. I hope to see you soon. I don’t think it’s safe at Ron’s and the family is moving temporarily to a new place. We’ll let you know the location, because I’ll be joining them soon. I want you to know I’m completely well and looking forward to relaxing and having a little fun this summer. I hope you are healing as well. Love Hermione


Harry knew what she meant, knew that she was hoping he’d gotten over his grief. He tucked her letter along with the others into a small satchel he was packing. He gathered his school things and packed them neatly in his trunk and shoved it under the bed. If, indeed, he returned to Hogwarts in the Fall, he would come back for it, he decided. Otherwise, it held the sum total of all of his personal belongings and he hoped that the Dursleys would be willing to follow the instructions he’d left in the note on top. He stared at the envelope stuck to the trunk lid, just under the Hogwarts insignia. He touched it one more time. It left him feeling very alone in the world.

At precisely midnight, he crept down the stairs and out the front door to the empty street. He was dressed in Muggle clothing but carried his robes tucked into the satchel and his Firebolt in the other hand.

He stared at the stars and the clear night sky. The sun was going down much later in the summer night and there was still a tint of light near the horizon. He stopped to smell the cut grass and the scent of the roses that he had planted for his aunt several years before. Harry didn’t look back at the house because it didn’t feel like he was leaving his home. For the first time he felt that he didn’t have a place he could really call home.

A shadow moved across the moon and Harry touched his wand with his wrist on the hand holding his Firebolt. It was tucked into belt and he never let his eyes leave the object, knowing that he could drop his broomstick and grab his wand very quickly.

It was Peabody. He drifted in slowly as if he were enjoying the evening air and was just dropping in by accident. “Hello there, dear boy!” he said, with an amused expression on his face.

“Shhh!” Harry said, startled at the loudness of the sound. “You’ll wake them all if you aren’t quiet.” He wanted to leave without Uncle Vernon leaning out of the upstairs window bellowing at him and waking the entire neighborhood. He also wasn’t sure that Mrs. Fig or Mundungus Fletcher or some other person wasn’t watching; including spies for Voldemort.

“Oh! Yes!” Peabody nodded and touched a finger to his lips. “Alright then. You ready? Made your mind up?” Harry nodded. “Good, good.” He stood silently and stared at the sky. Harry was once again reminded of the centaurs. “I think we’re ready. Give it a moment. Alright, now.”

“What were you doing just then?” Harry asked stepping over his broom handle and attaching his satchel to it with a length of twine.

“Oh! I’m a Forecaster, Harry. I trust you know what that is? You're part Muggle after all. I think they call them Precogs,” Peabody said, still louder than Harry would have wished. “I was just looking ahead that’s all. To see if it’s safe to travel and all that.” Peabody was lifting off and not looking back.

Harry lifted off and followed easily. He’d learned from the previous year that it could get cold flying high so he’d worn a heavy jumper. This time he found it comfortable and beautiful. The street lights looked like a string of glittering yellow gems lined up in perfect rows. He thought about what Peabody told him as he studied the landscape. He read everything that he could find that had the Professor’s name in it and nothing had said that he was a Forecaster.

Harry knew what a Forecaster meant from being in his Divination classes with Professor Trelawney. Someone who was a Forecaster could determine what was going to happen in the future. Something that was not accepted by Muggles but was almost commonplace in the wizarding world. However, he also knew that not every witch or wizard was adept at making all the mental calculations necessary to predict the future. It was always a matter of taking all the possible events and occurrences of an event and coming up with them most viable choice.

Harry also had more faith and trust in Forecaster then he did in predictions. Although very similar, he knew that Forecasting was like Arithmancy, it could be studied and taught. Prediction could be faked and Trelawney was a perfect example of a fraud. Harry shook his head. He forced the little voice in his head into silence; the one that continued to try and intrude, the one that argued that Trelawney wasn’t a total fraud. After all, it said, she had made two accurate predictions.

He forced himself to focus on Peabody. A Forecaster could only predict, with any accuracy, the events that could occur within a twenty-four hour time frame. Harry had never known one, but had read about them and the man that flew ahead of him seemed to be one of the few that existed in the world. Things made more sense now, he thought. The man kept abreast of the events going on the world because he had to use them in his calculations.

“Professor?” Harry flew up beside the man who was leaning into the wind, tears springing from his eyes from the wind and cold.

“What is it Harry?” Peabody slowed and drew his broom closer. “We can’t tarry, dear boy. We have seconds to spare, minutes at the most and then the course of events closes in. Voldemort’s people will arrive at Little Whining on our heels and they’ll be up looking for us.”

Harry’s mouth opened and he looked back over his shoulder. Wrenching back around he shouted at Peabody, “Will they hurt my Aunt and Uncle?” He was thinking of the Dementors in the alley from the year before. He cared nothing for his family, but knew he couldn’t live with himself if they faced those dreaded horrors unprotected.

Peabody shook his head. “They’ll know right away you’re gone. But they’re uncanny about finding a trail. Keep up lad, we’re not far away. Once we get to my home then we’ll be well-protected. You’re doing fine. Didn’t know you were such a good flyer!” he yelled and sped up, leaving Harry flying behind just at his tail.


They arrived on a street in a very old part of London. Harry recognized the landscape and certain parts of the city long before Peabody motioned him over. The older man guided him into an alley darkened with the grime of centuries. The man moved quickly in the dark and Harry followed by using his sense of touch. He was almost blind in the semi-darkness.

They went through a door in the alley and climbed stairs, several levels of stairs, until they came to the top of the building. He listened as Peabody mumbled a password and the door sprang open.

“Stay here lad and I’ll light everything up,” Peabody said, touching his arm and then left him in total darkness. In seconds, lights blazed in the cavernous room. From his viewpoint, Harry thought that the rooms probably extended over the total length of the entire top of a rather large building.

He stepped slowly from the foyer into the living area. The floors were hardwood, polished to a gleam and covered in areas with rich woven carpets and rugs. The area was divided into areas, that resembled a library, a lounge, a small kitchen and dining area. There were partitions that appeared to wall off areas for bedrooms.

“Make yourself at home, Harry,” Peabody’s voice echoed from a long ways away, near the end of the loft on the far side.

Harry wandered to the ten arched, brick windows that looked down on the streets below. There was nothing interesting at this hour to draw his attention. Instead, he peered at the night sky and wondered if they truly were safe. He turned when he heard footsteps coming from across the dark part of the loft.

Peabody stopped beside him and glanced out. “Pretty view isn’t it? Better during the day. You see we’re right on Diagon Alley, near Gringotts. But we can’t see it. The portal is on that end of the building,” he nodded towards the darkened end. “The only entrance is through Knockturn Alley though, or Muggle London, the way we‘ve come.” Peabody energetically motioned Harry away from the window. “We’ll look it all over in the morning. Tonight it’s time we get you settled in.”

Harry followed him through the maze of partitions and partial walls, all heavily paneled and lit with blazing candelabras.

“I don’t use these areas very much,“ Peabody said as he guided Harry down the hall. “Blackmoore tidies up and keeps things neat and all. He’ll help you out if you need anything. He’s an excellent cook though, just excellent.” Peabody stopped and turned around in the hallway, mimicking his movement from the night Harry met him, as if he were lost in his own home. “Oh here ’tis,” he said opening a door.

They ended up in a room of regal proportions. There was a four poster bed, draped in heavy burgundy drapery. A small fire burned in a conical fireplace in the corner and there were several chairs that formed an comfortable seating area.

“This is your room. I hope you’ll find it comfortable,” Peabody said. “ Blackmoore is usually out of an evening and you’ll meet him in the morning. So I’ll have to do if there is anything you need,” Peabody said smiling.


Harry felt a little embarrassed at dropping the sum total of his belongings in a small knapsack on the bed. He noticed that this room also had a large arched window looking out on the night sky. “Professor are you sure we’re safe here?”

“What’s got you into calling me Professor, boy? Haven’t been one for years,” Peabody said slowly. “It’s alright to call me Peabody as I’ve said or whatever you like. Some call me Rolly. By now I’m sure you’ve done your homework and checked me out.” His smile grew wider as he watched Harry blush. “ Knew you would. Makes sense that you’re trust would diminish and you’d check out a stranger. Now off to bed. We’ll talk in the morning. Voldemort isn’t going to find you here.”

Harry nodded and sat on the bed.

“We’ll have a long talk over breakfast,” Peabody nodded and left the room pulling the door closed.

Harry stood and listened to the footsteps pad away and then went over and tried the knob. He wanted to make sure that he had not become a prisoner. When he turned it, the door eased open soundlessly and he poked his head into the hallway. The place was silent.

Chapter Three Blackmoore and Hannah



Harry laid in bed staring at the canopy overhead and then rolled his head so he could look out the window. He wasn’t sure about anything, but he knew that not going to Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer had been a good idea. Peabody wasn’t afraid to say the name Voldemort and seemed to know a lot about everything. Sirius’ name rolled off his lips easily as did everything else. It felt like Peabody had a bird’s-eye-view of his life. Whereas, he, Harry, had no idea about life. It had narrowed down considerably since he had left Hogwarts for the summer holidays.

He fell asleep thinking about it and dreamed about Dumbledore, Hogwarts and a wild chase through the Department of Mysteries. His last thought was a vision of Sirius’ surprised expression, his arms flailing out and the tumble through the veil.

Harry woke with a start and felt his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He reached for his glasses and stopped in stunned panic. Standing at his bedside was a figure of a man, dressed immaculately in dark clothing; a vest with a gold chain crossing the front, covering a crisp white shirt. The effect was dramatized by the pressed suit coat and slacks covering a very portly figure. This was not out of the ordinary and wouldn’t have caused alarm except for the man who wore them.

Harry glanced up and stared into the face of a corpse.

Harry reached carefully and brought his glasses to his face. His wand was on the far side of the table and too far for him to reach. He didn’t think he’d know what to do if he could reach it. The figure didn’t move. Harry looked once again. The man definitely was not dead, the dark eyes burned too fiercely in the pale face. However, he was not altogether alive either.

Harry had never met a vampire but he knew that he was meeting one now.

“Master Potter,” the vampire spoke with a sophisticated intonation, “will you be having breakfast with Master Peabody this morning or should I bring it to you on a tray?”

“Br…Br…breakfast,” Harry managed; breathless.

“Yes,” the vampire said and Harry could see the pearl-white tips of very sharp canine teeth. “If you would prefer, I can bring you breakfast on a tray and you may dine in bed. However, I have drawn your bath and Master Peabody awaits you in his study.”

Harry threw back the heavy coverlet and dropped his feet to the cold floor. Only, his feet did not touch cold but a pair of soft, lambskin-lined slippers. He stared at them and looked up to see that the man held a robe for him and was waiting until he slipped it on.

“I will show you to the bath and inform the Master that you will join him shortly,” the vampire said.

You must be Blackmoore, Harry thought. He followed the creature into a large white-tiled bathroom with a white claw-footed tub filled with steaming hot water. The vampire waved his hand over the bath and bowed and walked backward closing the door behind him.

Harry stared at the door for a moment and let the heavy robe drop to the floor. He noticed a cup of steaming coffee sitting on a side table and next to it, folded very precisely, was a copy of the Daily Prophet. He shook his head and dropped his pajama bottoms and stepped into the water. Such things as this were not possible or likely at the Dursleys. For the first time in days Harry leaned back, closed his eyes and slid under the warm water; feeling very calm. He didn’t kill me, he thought. He’s a vampire and he didn’t kill me.

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Harry was led into a large room that would more naturally have covered several rooms. But in this loft, it had taken nearly a quarter of what Harry estimated was the entire floor. Unlike the other rooms he had seen, it was floor to ceiling bookcases overflowing with manuscripts, parchments and dusty books. The wooden floors that shone brilliantly everywhere else were covered with rugs that were badly in need of vacuuming or replacing as they were filled with holes and faded.

Harry noticed that almost all the floor space was covered with heavy old mahogany furniture more in tune with a time a hundred years in the past. Altogether, he was reminded of some of the shops in Diagon Alley or better yet, he thought, Knockturn Alley. He was looking at some of the curio cabinets and their contents and slowed at some of them as he entered the room. Definitely Knockturn Alley, he decided.

Blackmoore stepped aside and waved Harry further into the room. Seated at a round table covered in books and a tea set were two people, Peabody and a woman. The woman, to Harry’s surprise, was dressed in muggle clothing; and, very well dressed to boot. He walked to the table and found a chair sitting empty with a place setting waiting for him.

“Harry! Glad you’re up and can join us for breakfast,” Peabody said. He rose and clapped a hand on Harry’s arm. His cheeks were rosy and he was smiling brightly. “Want you to meet an old friend of mine. She’s along for the ride and I thought you should meet. Better now than later,” Peabody said loudly. “This is Madam LaFoye. We call her Hannah.”

“Of course you do, Rolly, that’s my name,” she smiled and reached up to shake Harry’s hand. “Happy to meet you, Harry. Rolly was just telling me about you.” She settled back and Harry took a chair.

“See you’ve met Blackmoore,” Peabody mumbled, his teacup to his lips.

The vampire handed Harry a crisp white napkin and then began to lift various silver lids on platters heaped high with sausages and toast. When Harry nodded, a serving of the contents was delivered to a china plate that sat before him. A fresh cup of coffee was poured and sitting besides gleaming silver flatware. He declined sugar and cream when offered by the vampire who wore white gloves and stood to the side as they spoke.

“Now to business,” Peabody said. “We’ll talk as you eat your breakfast, shall we?”

Harry nodded and started in on his toast.

“Rolly dear, let me explain,’ Hannah said. “You have the most confusing way of telling a tale and this young man will be lost in an instant.” She smiled over at Harry. He smiled back while studying her. She was an attractive woman, but not beautiful. She had dark brown hair pulled up in a twist on the back of her neck. Harry was surprised at her smooth olive skin and her dark eyes. She had an exotic appearance that he couldn’t quite place, probably an eastern influence, he guessed. She had a slim figure and he calculated that she was quite a bit taller than himself. She wore a rose-colored dress cut low in front and wore a ruby necklace with a gold chain that dropped to the cleavage revealed by the dress. Harry’s eyes dropped quickly to her hands, which were manicured. He wondered if she were a Muggle.

At his thought, she smiled at him and said, “I am not a Muggle, Harry, if you were wondering. I live partially in the Muggle world as you can see by my clothes. Anyway, to put things in a nutshell, this old eccentric and I and Blackmoore have this little friendship that we have developed over the years. You might say we are outcasts in the world. I am a gypsy you see,” she smiled and touched her red lips delicately with a napkin.

“We prefer to be called Roma, that is the name our people use. We are barely tolerated in the Muggle world. For the most part we are accepted by wizards and witches as one of their own, but excluded shall we say. Then there is Blackmoore,” she looked up as he poured fresh tea into her cup, “he definitely is an outsider. Few people tolerate a vampire for many reasons. However, our Blackmoore was a butler and servant before he was bitten. He chooses to remain that and has served us for many years.” She laughed a deep throaty laugh and looked up at him with affection. She glanced at Peabody and watched as he perused the Daily Prophet. “Rolly, my dear friend, is an outsider by his own choosing, and nature, I should say. He is a very accomplished Forecaster and a genius.”

He glanced up and smiled back at her. “Why, thank you dear.”

She nodded and sipped her tea. “Rolly knows Dumbledore and the events that have been taking place. I’m sure you know that a Forecaster’s life is devoted to tracking events in the world. The sum total of Rolly’s life work is forecasting and he has served the needs of many, including Dumbledore. Most notably he has been a advisor to the Ministry-the Department of Mysteries, for years.”

Harry‘s heart skipped a beat and he stopped chewing and swallowed. “ Is that how you knew about the prophecy?’ he asked.

Peabody frowned. “Those dusty old prophecies! I heard you smashed almost the whole lot of them. Good riddance, I say!” He threw the paper to the floor and it was immediately picked up and folded by Blackmoore and set next to Peabody’s plate.

“Harry, Rolly doesn’t work for the Ministry, or for anyone else. I said he was an advisor. That doesn’t imply that anyone ever offers HIM information.” She said it with an amused expression and was watching her friend’s reaction.

“You’ve got that right Hannah!” Peabody said with some anger. “Bloody scoundrels they are. Always taking credit for my efforts.”

“Why don’t you teach at Hogwarts any longer Professor?” Harry asked and then said, “Sorry, I mean, Peabody.”

The man looked up in surprise, “Oh, because I taught the Dark Arts, Harry. I was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and I taught the Dark Arts. One cannot defend oneself properly unless one knows what one is defending against.” He mumbled something and picked up the folded paper to spread it wide in front of his face.

Harry sat staring at the paper blankly.

Hannah jumped in. “That’s why we think of ourselves as living on the fringe of the Wizarding world… and perhaps on the fringes of the Muggle world, too. You see, Harry, we move between the two worlds. And I think we do so with some…finesse.” She picked up her teacup and held it, once again smiling. “What Rolly isn’t telling you is that he believes the events in one world affect the results in the other. So he keeps track of both.” She was smiling kindly at him. “He has ruffled some feathers in the wizarding world because they’ve always been worried that he’ll expose them. They are so…concerned that he’ll be foolhardy.”

“What you mean to say Hannah, is that they think I’ll turn into another Lord Voldemort,” Peabody dropped the papers. “You see Harry, if you study the Dark Arts, people tend to believe that you’ll employ them. And they’re just bloody afraid that they’ll be found out by the muggles. Why Cornelius Fudge went out and served the information up on a platter for the Prime Minister. Did anyone concern themselves about that?!” Peabody yanked the papers back up in front of his face.

Harry was beginning to get a sense of just how eccentric Humphrey Peabody really was and was slightly amused by it. He turned to Hannah and asked, “What do you do?”

The black eyes were shining with merriment and she almost giggled to Harry’s amazement. “I run a little shop, Harry.” She stood and Harry noted that he was right; she was tall, probably close to six feet. “I have an unusual shop. Depending on what side you’re on, the front opens into the muggle world and is called Madam LaFoye’s Occult and Magic Shop. In that shop, I sell herbs and lotions and potions, mostly just harmless stuff. Sometimes, I give tarot readings and palm readings. When you step through the curtain to the back of my shop you enter the one that opens onto Knockturn Alley. That one is called Madam LaFoye’s Apothecary. In that shop you can find some of the rarest of items called for in a number of recipes for incantations and spells. I am well known there and well-thought of even though it is situated in a very dark place.” She began a circular route through the furniture to the bookcases, moving from one to another, her cup in her hand.

“Yes, she is well-thought of,” Peabody said laying his paper aside. “The Roma are some of the most admired and respected witches in the world. Hannah is a gifted witch with many unusual powers.”

Harry listened, glancing at both of them.

“Why did you invite me here? I know that I’m here for a reason,” Harry said. “You didn’t invite me as your guest for a month because I promised to be good company.”

“Why did you come, dear boy?” Peabody asked answering his question with one of his own.

Harry thought about it. “You knew my parents and Sirius. You seem to know everyone I know and everything that’s happened.” He didn’t want to put into words the thought that Peabody might have some answers he didn’t have. “I thought you might be able to help me, or at least tell me more than I know now.” He also didn’t want to reveal that he couldn’t stand the thought of going back to Sirius’ house or that he wasn‘t prepared to face Voldemort.

“You’ve done your research and you know who I am. There’s no use in beating round the bush, Harry. We’re here to teach you the Dark Arts and to teach you how to kill Voldemort,” Peabody said.

Harry sat with a piece of toast unchewed in his mouth and swelling up to prevent him from speaking.

Hannah sipped at her tea, her brow wrinkling slightly in concentration. She was standing with a book in one hand and the cup in the other and watching Peabody.

“You…you what?! Harry finally managed.

Chapter Four: Peabody’s Error


“Dumbledore didn’t send me to watch you, Harry,” Peabody said. “He sent a message asking for my services. I simply ascertained that you would wait too long and be taken by Voldemort’s Death Eaters. I’ve whisked you off just in time and now you are safe.” Peabody shuffled to a high-back chair near an empty fireplace. “I’m afraid Dumbledore would be put out if he knew that you were here. He’d think you were being misguided.”

Harry watched as Peabody dropped into the well-worn chair, the tip of his balding head the only thing that was visible.

“You knew that Voldemort was going to capture me?” Harry asked in awe. “I thought Forecasters could only know events that would take place within a twenty-four hour period of time.”

Hannah smiled weakly at Harry and watched the two of them. Peabody remained hidden by his chair. “Harry, Rolly is a special Forecaster. He’s very accurate over long periods of time. Albus Dumbledore knows that and wanted a preview of what would happen once you were free of your Aunt’s house. Rolly knew that you’d be captured and so prevented that from happening.” She rounded the table and sat the cup down carefully. Harry looked up at her. “Harry, this is the first time in my history with Rolly that he has taken an action to intervene in an event.” She leaned in to whisper, “He saved your life.”

“Nonsense!” The top of Peabody’s head reddened. “I’m doing a study, field research if you will!” The little man stood and faced them. “Let’s just say I’ve grown tired of these four walls and needed to get out a little.” The room remained silent and Hannah and Blackmoore watched their friend. “Whose going to do the job? Dumbledore? A fine mess he’s made of things so far!” Peabody bellowed.

Harry set down his fork and stood. He spoke to the man’s balding head. “Professor, I’d really be honored if you could help me…teach me how to defend myself.”

Hannah’s smile grew wider and even Blackmoore seemed to relax his posture, although Harry couldn’t really see any change in the vampire’s expression. After all, Harry thought, anyone who has a vampire and a gypsy witch for a friend; who is also a Forecaster, well…better that then nothing. I’ll take it!

They all resumed their places at the breakfast table and continued in silence. Peabody returned to his paper supplemented by several more daily papers slipped onto the table by Blackmoore. Hannah sipped her tea and daintily picked at her food with impeccable manners. Harry munched away until he’d had his fill. As usual, a month at the Dursleys had left him underweight.

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“You have to understand, Harry,” Peabody said later. They were walking through the loft and Peabody was giving Harry a guided tour. “People think that we are bad news. They think we’re involved just as deeply as Voldemort is in the Black Arts. But it’s rubbish!” The little man talked excitedly as he showed Harry around. Hannah wandered behind them like a ghost, barely making noise and not speaking at all. “One must be aware of everything, even delve into the Dark Arts if necessary. To be prepared my boy, to be prepared.”

“How is it that Voldemort doesn’t come after you?” Harry asked as they rummaged through an art studio. There were abandoned easels and half-done pictures gathering dust. In one corner he noticed a pile of strange items stacked to one side to make a clearing for a coffin. This was not dust-covered.

“Don’t touch, dear boy,” Peabody said as Harry approached the coffin. “That’s Blackmoore’s and he’s very sensitive about his things being disturbed.”

Harry backed away and looked at some of the paintings. He was surprised at the subjects and the quality. He noticed as he leaned in to examine one, a picture of Hannah, that it was done by Blackmoore. It was a nude study.

“I guess you could say Voldemort would hesitate to come around a forecaster. You see he has focused on the Dark Arts with fervor. But he has erred in not taking everything into account and has not the skill or adaptability to use information well.”

“What Rolly is trying to say Harry,” Hannah broke in, “is that Voldemort is a stupid man. His strength is in terrorizing people, not out-thinking them; using brute force, the Cruciatus Curse and the killing curse. It’s effective for killing in small numbers, for controlling small populations of people. But he ignores information that would make him a very frightening person if he were to attend to it. He would truly be a monster then, a power that would be unstoppable.” She spoke from behind the painting. “And, he HAS tried to persuade Rolly to help him.” Hannah came around the edge of the painting and Harry was looking at two Hannahs instead of one; the one in the painting and the living one looking at him with her dark flashing eyes. “He would be a formidable enemy if he had Rolly helping him.”

The two of them stood looking at the picture and Harry turned to her. He saw something in her eyes that was not there before, something that the picture had not caught. He knew in that instant that she was a dangerous person. He didn’t feel threatened; just fascinated. And very glad that she was on his side.

They walked on through the unused side of the extensive loft and Harry was shown the door to Knockturn Alley. He knew about the portals into the wizarding world. He knew about the one at the train station that he passed through every fall, Platform 9 and 3/4s. He also knew about the one through the Leaky Cauldron, the one at St. Mungo’s and the Ministry. There were probably dozens.

Peabody taught him the password and cautioned him to not use the door until they went through it together. “I don’t want you wandering in Knockturn Alley by yourself,” he said. “It’s paramount that we try and keep this door a secret. I’ve lived here for many a year and have never been discovered.”

Harry nodded.

Peabody wandered back the way they had come, chattering about different things. Harry tried to listen but found his mind wandering.

“Harry,” Hannah slipped her hand around his arm. They strolled behind the man who was wandering around the rooms haphazardly and talking as he went. “I just wanted you to know that calling Rolly ‘Professor’ was really the right touch. He was very badly hurt when they let him go from Hogwarts. He is such a brilliant man, you know.” She walked easily at his side, towering over him slightly.

Harry stopped her, “Hannah, I thought I knew Dumbledore pretty well. He’s not the kind of man that is easily prejudiced. He even has a centaur teaching classes. What could Peabody possibly have done that would make Dumbledore dismiss him from teaching?”

The sensuous lips turned up in a sad smile and she squeezed his arm, “Are you sure you want to know, Harry? It could be painful to hear and I want you to trust him…to trust us.”

Harry nodded nervously.

“He told Dumbledore that Sirius would not be the Secret-Keeper for your parents. That he would pass that information to another and that the man who was secret keeper would betray your parents. He did not know the man’s name at the time. Dumbledore dismissed what Rolly told him, sure that his own information was correct. Your parents died as a result. Dumbledore was furious with Peabody because he failed to act. Rolly did try and warn your parents, but didn’t contact Sirius and didn’t try and stop Voldemort. After that, Dumbledore couldn’t stand to have Rolly around and Rolly was devastated by their deaths. He took responsibility and blamed himself.” She pulled him closer and breathed, “It wasn’t so much that he was dismissed, Harry. Rolly wanted to leave.”

Harry felt anger rising and the woman across from him knew it instantly.

“Harry, you must understand something. Rolly interfered once in another situation. He was forecasting and knew what was going to happen and he stepped in to change the course of those events. It was almost to his ruin and that of many others. Since then he has refused to act. He’s been afraid to act,” she said, reaching over to caress his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Until yesterday. You know what it feels like. I know you do.”

Harry nodded and could feel his own guilt about Sirius rising into his chest. She noticed the change in expression and turned him away from their close embrace. They continued to stroll.

“Dumbledore has since forgiven him. Has even asked for his help on occasions; like yesterday. But I think Rolly knows that Albus still distrusts him. Albus believes in his abilities, but abhors his reticence to act. And so…Albus asked about what was going to happen to you, fearing that Voldemort would take advantage the moment your family’s protection lifted. He was right in doing so.” Hannah let go of his arm.

Harry felt mild regret. Walking with her was like walking with a dancer. He could feel the sensuous way her body bumped his as she walked. “If Peabody was so accurate, why didn’t Albus believe him and take things into his own hands? Why did he wait for Peabody to do something?”

Hannah stopped and watched the long white curtains on an open window blow inward with the breeze from the summer’s day. The dozen windows, all with blowing curtains, resembled a line of laundry floating, turning and twisting in the sunlight. Peabody was ahead of them and disappearing through a doorway, headed towards his study.

“I don’t know Harry. Albus didn’t like the fact that Rolly studied the Dark Arts. He… they weren‘t friends. I just don‘t know,” she answered. “But you see, what is important is that Rolly miscalculated. He should have known that Albus wouldn’t believe him and ignore the warning he gave him. He didn’t calculate that into the forecast. It was an obvious thing to do and he didn’t do it. It was a part of the calculation a child could make.” She caught one of the curtains and pulled it around her like a veil, looking at him through the gauzy material. “It was as if his eyes were blindfolded and he couldn’t see. It was as if… it was meant to be.”

Harry stared at her. He couldn’t feel anything, not anger or sadness. He was telling himself that he couldn’t keep reliving his parent’s death and the circumstances surrounding it; the people involved in it. They were dead and he couldn’t bring them back. He had to stop searching for someone to blame. There were so many who were responsible, even Sirius. And he was dead. Am I going to start blaming the dead? he asked himself and realized that there were people who were probably thinking the same thing about him.

His mind took a different path. How do I know that the same thing won’t happen again. Why should I trust him? He could get me killed. Harry’s mind wandered over the possibilities.

The veil dropped and Harry learned what Hannah’s special gift was. “He won’t make the same mistake again, Harry. You can trust him because he will have me to help him. We will work together to keep you safe,” the dark eyes softened.

Legilimency? he questioned, testing her. He’d felt Snape reaching into his mind and knew what it felt like. This was different. There were no probing mental fingers.

She smiled brightly and laughed, the whiteness of her teeth contrasting against the red lips. Harry smiled back. He suddenly realized that he liked Hannah.

“No Harry, not Legilimency, although I did see someone for a time that was an adept Legilimens. I think you know him. His name is Severus Snape.” Hannah watched him and burst out laughing again at Harry’s face when he heard the name.

“You…you dated him?” Harry’s stomach lurched.

Hannah turned and walked ahead of him, taking long graceful strides. “You’ll see him soon. He will be here to help instruct you,” she said over her shoulder.

Harry stopped cold. Oh no, not Snape! he thought, with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chapter Five Lessons Begin

When Harry returned to the study Blackmoore was waiting for him, Peabody had returned to reading a book and Hannah was preparing to leave.

“Master Potter,” Blackmoore spoke, “you have an owl waiting to deliver a message to you. She is in your room.”

Hedwig! he thought.

Hannah gathered her belongings and bent to kiss him just to the side of his mouth. He could feel himself blushing instantaneously. “I will see you tomorrow Harry. Perhaps when Peabody shows you through Knockturn Alley you can stop by my shop. Until then.” She swept out of the room, her Muggle shoes clicking on the polished wooden floor.

Harry hurried to his room. A perch, rather ornately carved, had been placed in his room and his beloved owl sat perched on it as if it were her new home. “Hedwig! How did you find me?” he asked stroking her feathers and untying the bundle on her leg. He noticed that Blackmoore had set out two silver dishes next to the perch; one with water and one with owl food. Harry shook his head and dropped to his bed to read the letter. It was from Remus.

Dear Harry,

I don’t mind telling you that you gave us a terrible fright. Dumbledore had us out in force looking for you. When we didn’t find you at home we thought the worst. I’m still not sure you are in the right place, these are very strange people you are staying with and not very trustworthy. But at least we know you are safe. I will save all important news for when I see you again. I’d like to extend an invitation for you to come to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner. Please come, Harry. Next Tuesday evening at half past seven.

Your friend,

Remus

Harry sat looking at the letter feeling mildly angry. Who gives you the right, you or Dumbledore, to criticize who I’m with? Harry thought. Dumbledore had kept a secret from him for years. Remus probably knew about Peabody and his forecast of his parent’s death. And yet, they were worried about him. Leaving him alone for a month and then sending no word about where he was going and when they would come to fetch him. “You’re lucky Peabody came and got me Remus. According to him Voldemort would have me by now.” He spoke aloud and looked over at Hedwig.

“From now on Hedwig, no one is going to choose my friends for me or make decisions for me. I have to look out for my own skin,” he mumbled to the owl and placed the letter carefully in his knapsack along with the others. He stared at it for awhile and then out through the window. Wandering over he was amazed to discover that the window looked over Diagon Alley. They were so high up that no noise penetrated his room, but he could see very clearly all the traffic on the street. With a pair of binoculars he could have seen individual faces.

Harry was caught up in the view when Blackmoore’s voice startled him. The vampire was standing at his shoulder. “Master Peabody waits for you in his study. He says that lessons will begin momentarily.”

“Thanks,” Harry tried not to look startled. He composed his face and nodded to the butler. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

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Hermione Granger adjusted the heavy suitcase in her hand, waved goodbye to her parents who were in their car and headed off to work. Her mother blew kisses and then turned around to follow the road.

Hermione watched them with some sadness in her heart. There would come a time when she would have to choose between the Muggle world and the wizarding world and she knew which one it would be. It would mean leaving her parents behind.

After receiving Lupin’s letter, she had made up her mind. Harry was more important than spending the holiday out of the country. Hermione knew it would be safer for her to follow the plan outlined by Dumbledore. She also knew that Harry was hurting and too stubborn to talk to anyone. He was running away from his friends, the very people who stood beside him and supported him.

“Sirius, if you were here today, I’d give you a piece of my mind,” she said to herself. Throwing out her wand arm, she stepped back quickly so that the bright purple three-deck bus would not run her over.

“Yes, yes,” Hermione said huffily as the freckled boy stepped out to give his speech. “Just take me to the Leaky Cauldron, London. Here,” she handed Stan Shunpike the money for the fare and stepped on board. She wasn’t going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron but intended to find her way surreptitiously to #12 Grimmauld Place where she knew Lupin was staying. Together, she hoped he would guide her to Harry.

Down the street, a figure stood behind a tree, blending into the urban surroundings. The minute the Knight bus departed the figure disapparated. The bus zoomed by, dogs and children unaware of it. An old lady who was pushing her two-wheeled shopping cart stopped to watch it. Shaking her head she mumbled through rubbery purple lips and kept on walking.
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Harry sat at the table where meals were served in Peabody’s study. The man was standing with his hands on the chair back. What Harry was quickly coming aware of was Peabody’s tendency to frown and the quickness of his temper. However, it was usually not directed at anything and he could break into a ray-of-sunshine smile just as quickly.

Sitting on the table was a chessboard. It was a very expensive piece with the white pieces done up in silver and the black pieces done in gold. Harry noticed that the only piece on the board was the silver King, representing the black piece.

“Now Harry,” Peabody was saying. “I’m going to teach you something about Forecasting. It will come in very handy for you. It is an exercise for the mind, sharpens it you know.” He circle his hand over the air above the board. “Look at this piece and in your mind think of every position this piece can take on the board, every move it can make. Do this in your mind. It will be like a chess master. When he sits down to play a game, just after the first move is taken, he will consider every possible move that both sides can play up until the game is won.” Peabody raised his finger in the air. “And that is done before the next move is made. He will know how to beat his opponent because he will have played the game in his mind.”

Harry studied the jeweled silver King. He knew how to play chess, but wasn’t very good at it. Ron was forever beating him. He thought about the King, thought about it as Voldemort. He nodded to Peabody to show his understanding.

Peabody placed the black Queen next to the King. “Now. You will do the same for these two. You will think of every move that can be made by both of them. How they will interact with each other, the cause and effect of any event that will take place.”

Harry stared at the silver Queen. He knew immediately who she was. It was Bellatrix Lestrange. He could still remember her in the Department of Mysteries taunting him and goading him. He touched the figure and tilted it as if to lay it down in defeat. Peabody seemed to understand. He began to set the pieces on the board, one-by-one.

Then, Harry realized the enormity of the task. “You want me to visualize every piece, every possible move it can take on the board, in conjunction with every other piece?” He grew alarmed. “Peabody, I can’t do it!”

The man stopped and frowned, removed half the pieces he had already placed and left the King. “It is possible and you can do it. Take your time. Start with him.” He motioned to the Black King. “There is parchment and quill at your finger tips if you get confused, diagram it or write it down. Keep notes until you can do it all up here.” He touched his brow. “You must know and understand each piece.”

Harry stared at all of the pieces and the lone one sitting in the middle of the board. Head on hands, he began to play the piece, moving it from one square to the next. Peabody moved about the room without making a sound.

At noon, Harry raised his head and pushed the board to his side as lunch was served. He never took his eyes away.

By dinner, a short break to the bathroom and a drink of water, Harry had three pieces on the board: the King, the Queen- Bellatrix Lestrange and a Bishop-Lucius Malfoy. He was writing on the parchment Peabody had given him. The man wandered through the room like a ghost, lifting a book off the shelf and replacing one. They never spoke.

The day grew longer. “Peabody, do you have any books that might tell me more about Tom Riddle, or the pureblood families? Like something on Bellatrix LeStrange and Lucius Malfoy,” he asked scratching his head.

Without speaking Peabody began to sit books on the table. Dinner became a repeat of lunch. Harry opened and read and closed and set aside dozens of volumes. He ate with a book propped up in front of his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Night fell and Blackmoore lit a lamp and placed it on the table beside Harry. He was once again resting his head on his hands and staring at the chess board. He held a knight in his hand and twisted it back and forth in the candle light. The face on the figure seemed real , almost alive.

“Harry, perhaps you should retire to bed now and rest,” Peabody set his own book aside and stood up from his favorite chair to walk over to the table.

Harry looked up, at first unable to focus. “Yes, I will.” He felt exhausted and yet unwilling to stop. “Peabody, why are you helping me? Is it because you feel guilty about my parents?” He knew that he was being brutal. But as he looked at the pieces on the board, he was still trying to decide what piece would represent the man who had saved him but had failed to save his parents. He felt a slight twinge of regret but stared at the man waiting for an answer.

The man didn’t react with surprise. Given what he was, Harry wasn’t surprised either.

“No Harry, I am not helping you because I feel guilty. When you learn more you will understand.”

Harry stood to stretch and lean his arms against the table.

“I’m happy that I have gotten to meet you though,” Peabody said carefully. “I admired your parents. They were very good people.” He studied the board that Harry had looked at all day. It was now peopled with several more pieces. “Will you tell me…?” he waved his hand towards the pieces.

Harry glanced down. There were now several gold pieces in the playing area. “The White King is me, the Queen is Dumbledore,” he said and Peabody nodded approvingly. “The Knight is Ron Weasley. He would like to know that I’ve chosen the Knight for him.” Harry looked at the piece and was reminded of his first year at Hogwarts and their confrontation with the giant-sized Wizard’s chessmen in the depths of the castle. “The two Bishops are Hermione and Remus Lupin.”

“You have been able to place them on the board because you know them so well,” Peabody said. “Beware though, that can be a weakness in your calculations. You may think you will know how they will act and what choices they will make, but if you are too close to them you may be blinded.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, still staring at his pieces. “What really happened with my parents?”

“You mean, why didn’t I do something to prevent their deaths?” Peabody asked, taking a pair of pince-nez from his nose. “I did do something Harry, I told Dumbledore. But, he too, was blinded. He thought he knew me, thought he understood my motives. He thought I was helping Voldemort.” He circled the table and continued to touch pieces that strewn across the surface.

“Why?” Harry shook his head. “Why would he think that? Were you?”

“What happened Harry was that I thought he was going to do something and he thought I was going to do something and in the end we did nothing.” Peabody stopped and stood eye-to-eye with him. “You can blame me if you like. I blame myself.”

“No, it doesn’t do any good,” Harry said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Peabody answered.

Harry knew that he was referring to Sirius’ death as well. He glanced down at the pieces and noticed something that had evaded his conscious mind for hours. He leaned in again and studied the pieces.

“My friends, they’re in danger!” he gasped and looked up. Peabody didn’t look down.

“Yes, they are Harry. But then, we are all in danger. But you are right, they most of all.” He stepped closer. “Can you see it? Can you see the circumstances yet?”

Harry concentrated and looked at the pieces on the board. He reached over and grabbed a piece from the table, it was a pawn and set it on a square. Then he looked up. “Hermione is in danger. Voldemort wants her!”

“Yes,” the thin man said.

“He’ll use Percy,” Harry said with growing alarm. “I’ve got to warn her!”

“Harry, this is not the time.” Peabody pointed to the White King. “Look at this piece again. Look at the interaction between them. Tell me what will happen if you act now, if you warn her now.”

Harry stared and ran through the combinations of events that would result if he went to Hermione. Then he knew he would have to wait. He didn’t know enough and he would put her more at risk if he exposed himself. He looked up at Peabody. “Will you tell me? Will you tell me when it’s time to act. I won’t let him have her,” Harry hissed in fury. “Voldemort won’t hurt her. I’ll face him before I let him take her! Even if it means dying!”

Peabody swung around. Out of complete darkness Blackmoore appeared carrying a silver tray with a decanter and two crystal glasses. They were already half-filled with wine. Peabody handed one to Harry and took one for himself. Blackmoore took one step back and disappeared into the shadows of the paneled room.

“Yes,” he said. “His eyes are on her as a means to get to you. But I think that you will discover the time for action yourself. You have done very well Harry. Drink this and then we shall go to bed. There is nothing that can be done this evening.”

Harry accepted the wine, but held it without drinking. He bit at his lip and felt helpless.

“Blackmoore will go out and check on things for us,” Peabody said sipping at the glass. “He is very good about those kinds of things. Tomorrow you will work even harder.”

Harry drank the wine and headed for his room. He undressed and pulled the covers back on the luxurious bed. Hedwig was still on her perch, her head tucked under a wing and sleeping. Harry knew that she would wake soon and fly out to go hunting. He thought of Blackmoore out in the night hunting as well and shuddered involuntarily.

“Hermione, you need to watch yourself,” he whispered. “Please, please don’t get hurt.” He felt the familiar welling up in his throat and he covered his eyes with his arm. Harry knew that he could send Hedwig out with a letter, but also knew that Hermione would be drawn to him. And behind her would be all of Voldemort’s spies. The only chance he had was to use her as bait in the same way Voldemort was using her. He knew that he could follow whoever was following her. If he warned her, he lost the chance to follow Voldemort’s spy.

The one question Harry had that remained unasked and unanswered was; How do you protect them all? If you know what’s going to happen to them, how do you protect all of your friends, all the people that you care about?

Chapter Six Dinner for Three


A week later Harry dressed in his best robes and prepared to slip out and join Remus for dinner. He studied himself in the large mirror in his bathroom. He didn’t look different but knew he felt different. Since arriving at Peabody’s home, he was learning and beginning to feel more confident. He also knew that he had been protected by Dumbledore, Hogwarts and even the Weasley’s. And he knew that in some ways it had caused him more harm than good. He was not prepared, had not been prepared for the reality of the world around him. Now he felt like he was losing his innocence and it wasn‘t all bad.

Harry stopped in the library on his way out. Peabody was reading and eating his own dinner. Hannah was there, now dressed in a long full turquoise skirt and a blouse that slipped on one of her shoulders. She wore her hair down but tied back with a scarf, gold jewelry draped around her neck, large hoops hung from her ears and she wore rings on each finger.

She smiled and rose to walk to him barefooted across the ragged carpet. She touched his chest and straightened his tie. “Will he be alright Rolly?” She asked still looking into Harry‘s eyes. He felt heat rising in his face but was enjoying her gentle touch and their closeness. Her breath, so close, smelled of cloves.

Peabody chewed thoughtfully and nodded, waving his hand towards them.

Harry smiled slightly. He was getting used to Peabody’s crusty personality. It was a front for something that very few people were aware of; something that lay underneath it, something he guarded.

Harry was just beginning to understand. He knew that the old man kept to himself and professed that he had no emotions, no feelings; when in actuality he was too sensitive. Harry knew that Peabody could not go out into the world; was trapped by his own sensitivity. Harry had learned quite by accident that the man suffered exquisite emotional pain at the suffering of others. In fact, felt shielded only by being in his own home. It was for that reason Harry truly trusted him. Peabody had managed, probably with great difficulty, Harry thought, to come and rescue him.

Hannah and Harry turned to listen. They could hear Blackmoore’s steps heading down the hall to the front entrance. Harry was curious and waited to find out who the visitor was. He was still not polished at forecasting and couldn’t predict for certain who might be coming. He waited and glanced over at the chess set. There were now eight out of thirty-two pieces sitting on the playing board. Not enough, he told himself, not near enough.

“Master Snape has arrived,” Blackmoore’s deep voice intoned.

Harry’s head swung around sharply at the name. He saw his dreaded Potion’s Master enter the room. Snape! Ugh, he thought. Harry tried to compose his face so that the man could not see anything. He wanted to appear cool and calm.

Snape glanced at Harry and then, shockingly, smiled at Hannah. Immediately, the woman moved over to him and took both his hands in her hers. “Severus, my darling. How are you?” They kissed on the lips. Hannah was millimeters shorter than Snape and her head tilted back just enough to expose her long neck. Harry felt himself getting angry.

“Hello Severus, glad you could join us,” Peabody rose half-way from his chair without looking at his guest and returned to his dinner.

“Harry, you two know each other, of course,” Hannah said still holding one of his hands. Snape turned to him and ducked his head in a small bow at Harry. “Harry is not joining us for dinner this evening Severus. He has other plans.”

“Yes, I’ll be going now,” Harry forced his feet to move. He walked past them without looking at his Potion’s teacher. “Good evening.” He noticed as he glanced over on his way past that Snape was not dressed in his usual school clothes. This evening he wore a dark blue suit and a tailored cloak. Harry looked over his shoulder, startled and thought, he is clean, even his hair!

“Enjoy yourself, Harry,” Hannah’s merry voice echoed behind him as he walked through the maze that led to the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Harry kept walking feeling something new rise up in him, a feeling with which he had very little experience. But he knew what it was. He was jealous. I will make Snape the black Knight, he decided. Yes, that suits him. He really isn’t on our side of the board. Harry nodded to himself and slipped through the door.

------------------

Remus sat in a darkened corner waiting for Harry. The management eyed him warily but still served him. He was drinking a glass of sherry when he saw the figure of the young man step into the room. Remus stood and stepped into the light so that Harry could see him.

“Harry, it’s good to see you,” Remus said quietly. “You’ve grown, I think.” They gave each other a short hug.

“Remus it’s only been a little over a month since you saw me last,” Harry said taking off his cloak and laying it on an empty chair. “Bring me a glass of Bordeaux, please,” he said to the waiter.

They sat and Remus smiled and teased him, “Refining our tastes are we? Bordeaux? Well! I’m so glad you came. When you didn’t come to the solicitor’s office, I thought perhaps that you’d shy away from me all together. I have to say that I would be very upset indeed if that were to happen.”

Harry could feel the man looking at him, as if he were peeling away layers to expose his heart.

“Remus, you have to understand something,” he started and then stopped as the waiter brought his wine.

“Wait,” Remus stood and looked over Harry’s shoulder. Harry glanced back and then took another look. Walking towards them was a very pretty young woman. It was only after the second look that he realized it was Hermione. She was dressed for the evening, in a long blue dress that swept the floor and a midnight blue cloak. She had done her hair up and wore makeup.

“Oh!” Harry jumped to his feet. The chess board immediately came to mind. He had not made any calculations for Hermione’s appearance. Were they safe? Would they be found out? he wondered. She was walking over and pulling him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He felt himself stiffen and he pulled away quickly. His mind was on all the possibilities, calculating the outcome of their meeting. He decided that they were safe for the moment.

“Harry, I’ve missed you terribly,” she smiled cautiously when she felt him pull away. Remus was expecting her and pulled out a chair, taking her cloak. They returned to their seats.

“I was going to tell you but we didn’t have a chance,” Remus said. “Hermione joined me a few days ago. We’re staying at ‘the house’.”

Harry knew what he meant. They were both at #12 Grimmauld Place. He nodded to show his understanding.

“So tell us what you’ve been up to,” Hermione glanced around. “Tell us what you can. Are you alright?” She touched his hand. “Harry, we’ve just been sick with worry. When I arrived at ‘the house’ Remus told me where you went when you left your Aunt’s. He’s told me quite a lot really.”

“And what have you told her, Remus?” Harry asked curiously. He sipped the wine and waited.

The graying man looked at him and the smile was replaced with a serious, worried expression. “We know that you are a guest of certain people. Albus told me. I know them of course,” Remus said and cleared his throat. “I think I understand what you’re feeling Harry and I…”

“Do you?” Harry asked coldly.

Hermione’s eyes flitted back and forth and she leaned in. “Yes, of course he does, Harry. Sirius was his best friend. You both loved him and now he’s gone. You care about each other, that’s very plain, too. Oh please, let’s not fight. We’ve come to enjoy dinner and talk.” She unfolded a napkin and laid it in her lap.

Harry stared at her and then relaxed. This was Hermione and Remus Lupin after all. Of all the people in the world, he was closest to them. “Yes, you’re right Hermione. I apologize Remus. I tend to think only about myself sometimes.” Harry took another sip of wine and ordered his dinner. He had forgotten that neither of his friends knew about the prophecy. He hoped that they would never know. “I’m not sure it’s safe for us to meet very often.”

Hermione nodded. “You are staying with a Forecaster, Harry. It’s obvious that he thought it was safe tonight. Can you tell me more about him? And…and, what you’re doing? I just want to know that you‘re alright. That you have someone to talk to if you need to.”

Harry smiled warmly at her. “If I ever need to talk, you will be the first to know.” He ate and talked, giving only the barest of details about the past week. Remus listened and nodded several times.

“There haven’t been any unusual deaths or missing people,” Hermione said. “But the hysteria is running high ever since Fudge told the newspaper that Voldemort had returned. We think that he’s lying low for now.”

Harry nodded. Lying low and looking for me, he thought. “’Mione, we are in the most danger. He’s aware of my friends, you and Ron and Ginny and Luna… Neville. Everyone that was there with us when we went to the… the Department of Mysteries.” He swallowed hard and reached for water.

Remus nodded and said, “Yes, Albus has taken steps to have all of you watched and guarded. There’s been no activity of any kind that can be linked to Him. We’re just waiting.”

“Waiting for someone to get killed,” Harry snorted. “I waited for a month for someone to tell me how they were going to protect me after I left my Aunt‘s house. And do you know Remus, I didn’t hear a word, not a word.” He glanced around them. He had spoken too loudly and people’s heads were turning. “Waiting is a terrible way to find out what He’s up to, don’t you think? It doesn’t give a person much leeway in taking any action. Anyway, I don’t dare stick my face out in public very often and there’s a good chance I won’t be returning to school.”

“Why not Harry?” Hermione asked startled. “Hogwarts is safe. Dumbledore can protect you. I know everything is up in the air, but really…”

Harry interrupted, “I want to come back ’Mione. But I can’t hide forever. And…and people can’t protect me forever without getting hurt or worse.” His voice dropped and he stared at the food that no longer looked appealing. He felt a searing pain in his chest and throat.

“Harry,” Remus was using his calm soothing voice.

“No, Remus,” Harry sat his fork down. “Look at us. Ron and his family had to leave the burrow, ‘Mione and you have to be in hiding, I have to be in hiding. It could be a long time. You know it and I know it. You were even there the first time He came to power. You tell us, are we safe? Is there anything we can do until he’s caught? No, there isn’t!” Harry threw his napkin down in disgust.

His old teacher laid his own napkin down and sat back. “I have no answers, Harry.”

“Remus, I am an obvious target and anyone who comes near me is in danger. You have to stay away and let me do this on my own,” Harry whispered vehemently.

The man leaned in his arms laying on the table, “Do what Harry? Kill Voldemort? Why do you think it’s your job? He’s killed or been responsible for killing everyone I ever loved. If anyone deserves the right to be first in line it is me. You are sixteen!” Lupin’s pale face seemed to flush with his emotions, his hand clenched into fists. “And… I won’t lose you.” He stuttered and looked down at the table for a moment. Gathering himself he looked into Harry’s eyes. “I care about you, Harry. Not just because your James’ and Lily’s son. I care about YOU! I tell you I was actually jealous of Sirius I have to admit. I understand why James didn’t make me your godfather, but that’s not to say I wouldn’t have wanted the job.“ Lupin ran a shaky hand over his face and continued, “Do you understand that I don’t think I could take it if something happened to you. Sirius left you and me the house and money. I want you to come and live there with me. You will be safe there and I can help protect you.”

Harry gulped and struggled to keep his face free of the emotions that were filling him. “Remus, I care about you, too. Maybe someday I can do that, but not now. But I can‘t wait around for him to come for me.”

“You’re not saying that you’d actually go after him!” Remus was almost out of his seat. His face was screwed up in alarm. “What are those people putting into your head? Do I have to say it again? You’re sixteen!”

Harry glared at him.

They both broke the look between them when they heard Hermione’s agonized cry. She was sobbing silently into the napkin that was held over her mouth. She looked at Harry, her eyes filled with tears.

He rose from his chair and wrapped her up in his arms. “I’m going to be alright ‘Mione. I’m learning to take care of myself,” he crooned in her ear. “I don’t want to be a prisoner in that house, I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“But you could die!” she whimpered. “Tell me you won’t go looking for him? Please promise me you won’t.”

“Hermione, we all could die,” he answered pulling her back to look in her face. “No matter what happens you are the best friend I’ve ever had. I love you. But I’m not scared anymore. I have people helping me. And…and I trust them.” Harry glanced at Remus when he said it. “Remus, I don’t know what Dumbledore has against Peabody. What happened was just fate. But he’s helping me now and I feel like… like I need to grow up.”

Lupin’s face was stony. “I don’t know what to say Harry. I’m not your guardian and I can’t make you do anything. But I wish you‘d reconsider.” He stood and laid his napkin carefully on the table. “Are you alright there? Do you feel safe? Can they protect you?”

“Yes,” Harry replied still holding Hermione in his arms. “And I don’t worry as much if I’m not near both of you.” He turned Hermione loose and let her sit. “I’ll be off now. I’ll send Hedwig with news now that I know where you are.”

“Harry, will you come and see us?” Hermione looked up at him, tears lingered at the end of her eyelashes and looked like tiny diamonds.

“Yes, and tell Ron not to worry.” Harry picked up his cloak hugged Lupin and leaned down and kissed Hermione on the cheek. He turned and walked through the room without turning back. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to see them again and he couldn’t let them see his face.

He stepped out into the night, looked at the stars and began the calculations. Satisfied that all was well, he slipped away.

Chapter Seven Hermione’s Disappearance


Harry trudged up the stairs from Knockturn Alley, thinking about the last several hours. It almost broke his heart to watch Hermione crying. He didn’t know what it was about females but crying seemed to be a natural outlet for their emotions. He could understand wanting to cry, he had felt that when he was younger. Only, crying at the Dursleys was a waste of time, and he‘d outgrown it.

He made his way through the dark hallways with his illuminated wand. The loft was silent and even Peabody was not in his study. He crept down the hall to his room and
slipped in. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, his bed was turned down. He noticed that a light was burning in the bathroom. He thought to himself, Blackmoore’s started a bath for me.

Harry undressed and set his clothes aside. He knew they would be hung up and even pressed by morning. The thought that a vampire entered his rooms and took his clothes had initially been heart-stopping and he’d laid awake as long as he could in order to catch him at it. However, the vampire- given his natural talents- was not seen.

Harry trudged to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He thought that bathing so late would have been nice but he was tired and wanted to sleep. Wearing only his pajama bottoms he stepped into the brightly lit room. A hundred candles sat on the floor and lined the shelves. And laying in the tub with her eyes closed and bath bubbles foaming all over, was Hannah.

“Good grief!” Harry stopped and was about to turn around when her hand came out of the bubbles and languidly waved him in.

“Come in Harry dear. Sit and talk to me while I enjoy this heavenly bath,” she said while keeping her eyes closed. Her hair splayed down over her breasts and the bubbles clung to her shoulders.

Harry found himself staring and then coming to his senses he looked around uncomfortably and finally settled in a chair at the head of the bathtub. The only thing that was visible were her toes peeking out from the bubbles.

“Hannah, why are you in my bath?” he asked.

“I came to talk to you and I thought it would be wonderful to relax while I waited,” she murmured. “Did you have a nice evening?”

“Yes,” Harry said, taking up a bar of soap to examine it. He was feeling hot and unusually uncomfortable. I have a naked woman in my bathtub! he thought and then realized when she laughed that Hannah could actually read his thoughts. He studied the writing on the soap and tried to clear his mind.

“Good, good,” she said her lips curled into a tiny smile. “We also had a nice evening.”

That brought the memory of Snape back to Harry’s mind. “How do you know Professor Snape if you don’t mind my asking?”

Hannah sighed. “In my world, Harry, I know many people.” There was a moment of silence before she continued, “I feel like I need to speak carefully because it has always been the case that people make up their minds too easily about someone. I wouldn’t have you thinking badly of me.”

Harry’s mind once again flew to the fact that she was laying in his tub naked.

She laughed aloud, “Naked yes, but not exposed. I am not here to seduce you. I am here to take a bath.” The dark eyes came open and she rolled over to look at him, her head resting on her hand at the edge of the tub. “There is a difference. I am not here to take your innocence. I am here to be your friend.”

He nodded.

“I am a gypsy as I’ve told you. Before I owned my little shop I traveled the roads with my people. We are very solitary people, keeping to ourselves. Other wizards and witches seek us out sometimes. In this world, we have many special gifts, special magic that is sought after.”

Dark magic?” Harry asked, thinking of Snape.

“Some would think of it as so,” she nodded pursing her lips. “But to us, all magic has a natural source. We do not use wands, we do not use magic for purposes other than just living.” She turned and slipped back into the water. “We are known for our talents in making amulets and talisman, for concocting potions and for healing. There are other gifts; each tribe has its’ own. Anyway, Severus came to us by accident. I traveled with my father in his vardo, that is what we call a wagon. It is our home. Severus was injured and needed our assistance. So my mother healed him and he stayed with us for awhile.”

Harry listened. Although he remained angry with the man and still loathed him, the history drew his curiosity. “He must have been much younger.”

“Yes, I was a girl, not older than you. He was a man in his twenties,” Hannah answered. “Harry take the soap and wash my back for me.” She sat up exposing her back to him.

He looked at the soap and then her back and scooted the chair over so he could reach her. With a trembling hand he started to wash her back. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked trying to keep his mind off her smooth warm skin.

“You did not warn Hermione of Percy,” she began.

“No,” he said frowning. “If I did, then she would react in a bad way and change the events of the evening. Remus would react to her action and double the negative outcome.”

“Yes, Rolly has taught you well,” she nodded, handing him a sponge. “That feels wonderful.” She moaned and leaned her head back. “Come take some of this and I will teach you to wash a woman’s hair. It is a sensuous and delightful thing.” He leaned back while she ducked her head into the water. Harry couldn’t take his eyes from her body.

He began to massage the shampoo into her long tresses and could feel her slender neck and delicate ears. He felt his glasses steam up and reached up to slip them off and drop them to the table beside them. “You are always Peabody’s messenger. Why doesn’t he come to me himself? Harry asked.

She moaned and leaned into his fingers, “I think you know by now, Harry. He cannot be near many people. It burns his soul to know of their feelings. He knows what is to happen and he cannot bring himself to be the bearer of bad news any longer. You know this because I can see it in your mind.” She reached for and held his hand. “You are becoming knowledgeable. You know what is to happen next? What is already happening even as we speak?”

Harry dropped his hands to the side of the tub. “So it is happening.”

She turned to him and took one of his hands, “Hermione was captured only moments ago. Your friend Remus was hurt, but will live and has already been found and taken to the hospital. Blackmoore is following Percy,” she nodded with deeply sorrowful eyes. “Yes, he is the kidnapper. He will keep her for only a short time and then Voldemort will have her taken to him. I‘m sorry Harry.”

Harry sat back and sighed deeply. “Hannah, I don’t really know what happens next. Can you tell me?”

She slipped beneath the water once again and came up to wipe the water from her eyes.

“Hannah,” a deep voice spoke mockingly, “you’re going to ruin this boys’ reputation.”

Harry’s head jerked up and he saw Snape leaning against the door. He was dressed very casually in his slacks, and a white shirt rolled at the cuff. Harry took in the scene and knew with some accuracy that Snape had stayed the night; had stayed with Hannah.

“What do you want?!” Harry said jumping to his feet and glaring at the man. “This is my room. Get out!” Harry was past the point where he would tolerate Snape, especially outside of Hogwarts.

Hannah stood up and Harry quickly reached for a towel and held it in front of her, wrapping it around her as she raised herself from the suds. “Thank you, Harry. It’s a little late for modesty don’t you think Severus. I’m not much for it as you know.” She stepped from the tub and left the room covered only in a towel. She swept past Snape and disappeared into the bedroom only to return a moment later in Harry’s robe.

She walked over to Harry and faced him, taking his chin in her hand. In her bare-feet she was almost the same height. “Harry, look at me.”

He clenched his jaw and forced his eyes from Severus who remained at the door looking at him with a smirk on his face.

“Harry, you must use what you have learned. Tell me what you can see. Forecast it.”

Harry stared into her brown eyes just inches away and then frowned. He thought of the chessboard and the figures on it. He placed the black Knight on the board, the one that symbolized Snape. He had not wanted to assign him a piece but knew that Hannah was telling him that Snape was involved. He couldn’t bring himself to give him a place of honor on the white side.

Harry envisioned the board and began to manipulate the pieces in his mind. He knew that Peabody was using the chessmen and board as a way to instruct and help Harry govern his thinking and calculations.

“We can rescue Hermione,” he began. “We can’t do it yet, something else has to happen first. We have to wait for Voldemort’s man to come.” Harry struggled and closed his eyes.
He was thinking of all the reasons Percy had allowed himself to be involved with Voldemort, all the reasons he had kidnapped Hermione and how it had been done. He felt the tearing sensation of his worry and concern fogging his mental notes.

“Harry, dear,” Hannah’s face was a inch from his and off to the side. “I can hear your thoughts. You are caught up in your emotions; about your friend, about me. Take a breath and calm yourself. Think about what has happened. Use what has already taken place as your foundation, use it to launch new thoughts. Now…try again.”

Harry breathed in the scent of the bath and felt her fingernails touch his bare chest. Curls of her hair lay wet against her shoulder and he ached to reach out and pull her even closer. He forgot everything he had been doing.

Snape laughed.

“Hannah, the boy can’t think let alone do any sort of calculation if you keep touching him like that,” Snape said. “What she’s trying to make you understand Potter, is that I am involved in the rescue of Miss Granger, unfortunately.”

Harry’s eyes opened in surprise and he stared over Hannah’s shoulder. “You!”

“Unfortunately, Potter,” Snape turned to leave. “Somehow our destinies are intertwined. I wish it weren’t so. How I wish it weren’t so!” Snape turned and left the room. Harry could hear him. “We’re probably both going to get ourselves killed. And believe me Potter it will be a nasty way to go.” The door to his bedroom slammed shut.

--------------------
Hermione and Remus stepped from the Leaky Cauldron.

“Hermione I wish I could take you to the theater or to the opera in muggle London. Everyone would be dazzled by how pretty you are,” Remus said. They were in the shadows trying to remain unobtrusive so that they could make their way back to No 12. Grimmauld Place.

Hermione knew that he was trying to make her feel better. After Harry left they had continued their supper and talked about him. She felt her heart beating hard with fear. “Remus, that’s very nice of you to say. I’ve been to the theater and it’s great fun. Maybe we can do that sometime. There are very few wizards who feel comfortable in the muggle world. Of course I’ve been raised here.’

“Will you find it hard to leave?” Remus asked. They had talked about her graduating from Hogwarts and beginning life as a witch.

“No, I don’t think so,” Hermione said. “Somehow it’s all so much more natural when I’m in a place like that,” she looked back over her shoulder at the Leaky Cauldron, “then out here.” She turned to look at the London street. “What?” she reached for her wand.

A figure approached them in shadow and then stepped out into the street light.

“Percy!” Hermione and Remus exclaimed together.

“Shhh,” he whispered touching his lips. “Glad I found you.”

Hermione frowned. Percy had been living in London after leaving his parent’s house. He had been estranged from his family for almost the entire year, believing in what Cornelius Fudge had been telling him. After the incident at the Ministry, and Voldemort’s existence exposed, Fudge had been embarrassed and had turned his opposition to Dumbledore and Harry around. Hermione wondered what had happened to Percy, if it had changed his mind. She knew he’d been a vehement critic of Harry, owling several times to warn him. No one in the Weasley family had seen him for months. Hermione knew because Ron told her everything.

“What is it, Percy?” Hermione asked. They were waiting for a cab and trying to remain unobtrusive. “What’s wrong?” Given what she knew, Hermione was being very gentle and concerned.

“It’s Ron and my…my family.” Percy said choking back sobs and grabbing her arm. “They’ve been attacked.”

Hermione’s heart stopped in her throat and she reached for him. “Are they alright? Ron… is he alright? Percy, tell us!”

Percy glanced over his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, yes they’ll be fine.” His voice sounded cold and Hermione drew back, struggling to release his arms. They tightened around her. “Don’t Remus!” Percy shouted his free hand coming up, holding a wand. He shouted a curse at the older man, stepped back and in a moment disapparated with Hermione held tight to his chest.

Chapter Eight A Confrontation with Snape


Harry lay awake most of the night, still feeling too angry and too worried to do anything else. His mind raced over the different series of possible events that could occur until he had a headache. He was angry that Snape was present, that he had Hannah’s affections, that they would have to work together.

He rolled out of the soft comfortable bed and stood at the window. I’m mental, he thought. Starkers! That’s what I am. If I have to think about this anymore I’ll just go screaming into the night! Harry stared down at the empty street below him. In a few hours it would be crowded with witches and wizards doing their shopping. He stood at the window until the sun began to rise.

“Master Potter,” Blackmoore’s said, standing just behind him. Harry didn’t even turn. He was used to the sudden appearance of the vampire. “Breakfast is not ready yet. However, if Master wishes I can bring him coffee.”

“Thank you Blackmoore, that would be good,” Harry frowned. How did he know I was up and awake? he wondered. “Blackmoore?’ Harry spun around and caught him as he was opening the door.

“Yes, Master Potter?” the heavyset vampire stood expressionless at the door.

“Did you go out last night?” Harry stuttered. “Did…did you follow Percy Weasley and Hermione Granger? Do you know where they are?”

“Yes, Master Potter,” the vampire said, standing very stiffly, not looking at him. “Do you wish me to tell you more?”

“No, not yet,” Harry shook his head thoughtfully. “Is Hermione alright? Is the girl, is she alright?”

“Yes, Master, she is unharmed.” The fat man turned to leave.

“Blackmoore? Do you…feed on wizards?” Harry blurted out the question. He knew instantly from the very mild change of expression on the vampire’s face that he was being impertinent. “Forgive me if I’m being nosey… I.”

He didn’t finish, the vampire stood before him in an amazing feat of locomotion. Harry had not seen him move and he was looking at him all the time. Harry felt the hair rise on his arms and he swallowed nervously.

“Master does not want to inquire to deeply into my affairs,” Blackmoore said. “It is not polite. However, I will answer you. I have at times fed upon wizards and witches. Their blood is not significantly different than a muggle’s. I hope that answer is satisfactory? If there will be nothing else I shall bring your morning coffee to you, sir.”

“Thanks… thanks Blackmoore, that’ll be fine,’ Harry was suddenly speaking to thin air. The vampire was gone before he’d finished his sentence.
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Several hours later, bathed and dressed, Harry walked into the study. Peabody was at his usual place studying the newspapers for the day, Hannah was dressed and eating breakfast and to Harry’s dismay, although he knew he would be there, Snape sat at the table, too.

“Good morning Harry,” Hannah said fingering her china cup. She was smiling as usual and dressed once again in a skirt that reached her ankles, a blouse and a scarf tied round her head. She noticed his glance. “Oh yes, I dress like this for my customers. They expect it. However, it is not my usual style, although very near it.” She waved her hand to him and he joined them at the table. Blackmoore was instantly at his side, serving.

Harry noticed that Snape was watching him with his cold dark eyes. He ignored him and sipped at his own coffee and nibbled at a forkful of eggs.

Peabody shook himself free from the papers and growled at Harry. “We’ve had events during the night! Hannah has probably filled you in. Tell us what will happen next Harry and then I will share the news of the day with you.”

Harry felt himself blush. Of all the things he didn’t want to do, he didn’t want to show off his forecasting abilities in front of Snape. But it seemed he was destined to do it because Peabody was staring at him waiting.

“And Harry, you’ve placed a Black Knight and a Black Castle on the board and we haven’t discussed it,” Peabody was reminding him of the added pieces.

Harry savored the mouthful of food and chewed slowly knowing that he was going to have to explain the Black Knight. He’d wandered out just before dawn to place the piece on the board.

“Uhmm, yes. Well,” he glanced at Hannah who was sitting with her eyebrows raised and keeping a straight face. Peabody was frowning at him as usual and when Harry looked up he saw Snape smirk. He was immediately furious.

“The Black Knight is Mr. Snape.” Harry said setting his cup aside. “He carries the Dark Mark on his arm and has previously been a follower of Voldemort’s, probably still is.” Harry felt himself grow out of control and couldn’t stop what was spilling from his lips. “You can’t trust him to be loyal to any one’s side. He’s notoriously unfair and judgmental. And, he probably studies the Dark Arts and uses them indiscriminately!” Harry said and sat staring at the man who’s face grew ever more granite-like in appearance as he spoke.

There was silence in the room and Harry’s fingers twitched to reach for the wand he had brought in to breakfast.

Peabody broke the silence by snorting and rustling his papers back into place. “Who among us has not studied the Dark Arts dear boy. I’ve told you before, we are social outcasts. I daresay the people in your world, at Hogwarts and such, would feel as if they’d soiled their hands on us. Now! Shall we do this again without emotion?”

“Let him continue, Rolly,” Snape hissed. “He seems to need to get something off his chest.”

Harry was up and out of his chair facing off against Snape across the table. He had raised his wand to point it at the man without being consciously aware of doing so. “Why? Why do you hate me so much. What have I ever done to you?” Harry was shaking with fury. “You’ve mocked me and tortured me every day in class, from the moment I stepped foot in Hogwarts. What my father and Sirius did to you was not my fault! I won’t let you do it to me anymore, do you hear me?” Harry raised his wand. “I’m not my father. I wasn’t there! I’m not the one who hurt you when you were little. Stop taking your miserable existence, your miserable life out on me!”

Snape was on his feet. He knew what Harry was referring to. They had shared the mental images of his childhood abuse during occlumency lessons.

“Enough!” Snape howled.

“No it isn’t! You can shovel it out but you can’t take it. Is that it Snape?!” Harry was shaking violently with rage.

“Be careful Potter,” He was leaning over, his fists on the table, his face a picture of fury.

“Calm down both of you,” Hannah said easily, biting into a corner of toast.

“Stay out of this Hannah,” Snape snapped, his head jerking around to her. “You don’t know what this is about. This boy has been coddled enough and it’s just about to choke me to death.”

“What is wrong with being kind, Severus?” Hannah touched his hand with hers. “He has led a lonely life, as you have. You are so much alike the two of you.”

Harry and Snape both turned to look at her, stunned by her words. “Nonsense Hannah,” Snape voice was deep and smooth, “You are so free with your favors that any man within your immediate vicinity looks like they are in need of your special touch,” Snape growled, “even a little boy.” He stood up and yanked his hand out of her reach.

“Are you calling her a tramp?” Harry shouted furiously.

Hannah stood and patted Snape’s face, “Don’t be alarmed Harry. He does this when he is feeling bad…and jealous.” She smiled and kissed the man on the cheek, their eyes meeting briefly. “Rolly, I think I will go on now. Send these two when they have calmed down.”

Peabody threw his paper to the floor and snarled, “What you have told us is nothing new Harry. We know more about Severus than you can hope to learn in a lifetime. We’re not all angels here as you well know. We have, Hannah and myself included, involved ourselves with various and sundry nefarious types through the years. Our linen is not hung out for all to see, obviously; nor is it clean. Now, whatever you have between you must be resolved,” he stood and hitched up his pants. He still wore his morning slippers and a morning coat. “Do it now why I wander off and see what Blackmoore is up to. And please do mind the china. It is my favorite set.”

Harry never took his eyes off of Snape. He knew why Peabody had left the room. It had become too uncomfortable for him. When he was gone, Harry dropped his wand. “You’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous; first of my father and then of me.”

Snape smiled, “Rolly was correct Potter. It would take you a lifetime to understand me.”

“I would say the same goes for me except you made up your mind a long time ago,” Harry said scowling. “That hardly seems fair does it? Just what was it that I have done that you hate me so much?”

“Hate you Potter?” Snape sat down, rolled down and buttoned the sleeves to his shirt and straightened them out. “No, Potter I don’t hate you, I loath you.”

Harry dropped into his chair and waited, raising his own brow in his best Snape imitation. “If you want me dead why don’t you just do it? Why are you waiting for Voldemort to do it for you? Are you a coward?”

Snape looked at him and shook his head, almost whispering. “I don’t want you dead Potter. I made a promise to keep you alive. It’s something I have regretted ever since.”

Harry slowed his breathing. The clock on the mantel ticked away the minutes, “Who did you promise?”

They stared at one another, the question hanging like a sword in the air between them.

“I promised your mother,” Snape answered.

“My mother!” Harry felt himself tense. Was this a lie, a ploy to get him infuriated again? he wondered. “What has my mother got to do with this?”

Snape smirked, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Harry shot back.

An hour later, Harry walked into his room. Sunlight was shining through the arched window and onto his bed. The room was tidy and neat. His few belongings were arranged carefully on the bedside table. One included a picture of his parents. Harry wandered over to it and picked it up. The two of them were together, his father laughing, his arm around Harry’s mother. Suddenly, Harry dropped the picture and ran for the bathroom. After emptying the contents of his stomach, he stood and wiped his mouth and found himself staring into the mirror. Snape’s word’s kept sounding in his head.


*Natasha's note: Because of the rules on this site I have to wait for the admin to upload the next chapter. This story is finished and can be seen on other sites, including: www.fanfiction.net and www.godrics-hollow.com. Sorry its taking so long. To the one person who has reviewed I thank you. To those of you who don't- take a minute to jot a note to me if you like the story. Thank you.

Chapter Nine Snape’s Secret

“I loved your mother,” Snape said. “When she was taken by the Dark Lord, Peabody told me he had her. He was a teacher at Hogwarts at the time and was teaching me other things, outside of regular classes.” Harry knew what he meant. Peabody was teaching him the Dark Arts.

Snape continued, “The only way I could save her was to infiltrate the Dark Lord’s Deatheaters. That’s when I took the dark mark.” Snape’s eyes narrowed and it looked to Harry like he was reluctant to continue. “I was not entirely opposed to taking it then. I needed an excuse you might say.”

Harry knew he was hearing something that he would never hear again; a confession. He sat back, wondering why the man was telling him this when he had just told him how much he hated him.

“It was your father who found me with your mother. He thought I was the one who had hurt her. He wasn’t concerned about my version of events. He didn’t trust me even though I protested that I was not there to hurt her but to save her. He didn’t believe me of course and couldn‘t hear her when she tried to tell him. You saw how they treated me in the Pensieve. I had called her a mud blood and Potter could not see it another way. He thought I was nothing but… filth,” Snape dropped his eyes momentarily.

“But he tried to save you from Remus,” Harry protested. “It was Sirius that sent you into the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. It was my father who went in to stop you before you got all the way to the Shrieking Shack.” Harry said it softly, worried that he would stop the ebb and flow of Snape’s story. “We tried to tell you when you caught us there with Sirius and Lupin.”

Snape’s eyes darkened and for a moment Harry thought they would be standing, and this time Snape would have his wand up. But it didn’t happen.

“Your mother was hurt, not physically, but in a way that leaves a shadow on the spirit,” Snape said it breathlessly.

Harry swallowed with difficulty. “Was she…raped?” He didn’t want to hear the answer, but knew he wanted to hear what had happened.

Snape shook himself from some memory he was replaying in his own head and said loudly, “No. She wasn’t. The Dark Lord has a way of hurting people very deeply if they are weakened to begin with, but your mother was a vibrant and healthy woman. She fought the effects and won. When she found out she was pregnant she came to me and asked a favor of me.”

“Why?” Harry asked. “Why come to you?”

“Because I had rescued her and she felt she owed me a debt,” Snape’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Wizards can be like that, feeling like we owe someone something.”

“But you took the Dark Mark so that you could rescue her,” Harry said bluntly. “I think that calls for something.”

Snape snorted, “Hardly! You weren’t listening Potter, I told you that I had several reasons for taking it.”

“You said you loved her,” Harry kept his voice even and calm, trying to draw him back.

“Did I?” Snape frowned. “That’s beside the point. She came to me because she knew the Dark Lord was killing more and more wizards and witches and I was… involved in it. She knew that she and Potter were in danger because they had been working for the Order. I thought she was coming to me to beg me to protect her and her precious husband. But she didn’t. She asked me to watch over YOU if anything happened to her. And, that was the promise I made.”

Harry sat back stunned. “But… why do you hate me?”

Snape drew in a hissing breath and stood to wander the room. “Is it really so hard to understand Potter?”

Harry concentrated, his eyes falling on the Black Knight setting on the board. He thought about it. He’d spent countless hours wondering whether he would assign a white or a black piece to Snape. Out of jealousy, he had made him the Black Knight. Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at the piece.

“My mother saved you!” Harry breathed. “She made you make a promise which meant you would have to betray Voldemort.” Harry’s eyes flew over the pieces. This time he placed a white piece on the board and he pushed himself away from the table so hard the chair went crashing back. “You! You were to be the messenger. Peabody sent you to warn my parents that their secret keeper wasn’t Sirius. You knew Pettigrew was spying for Voldemort. You were there when he told Voldemort that he was my parent’s secret keeper!” Harry was staring at the chessboard an ache building to a crescendo in his heart. “Why didn’t you get there in time to warn them? If you loved her why didn‘t you save her?”

Snape’s back was to him and Harry looked up to see his head drop and watch him lean against the bookcase. It was but an instant and then the shoulder’s straightened and Snape turned to him. “I kept my promise. I saved you. I didn’t tell Him about the prophecy. When he tried to kill you it rebounded on him and I thought it would kill him. I wasn‘t sure that the prophecy was about you, but Peabody was. ”

Harry stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

“I was the one who overheard Trelawney’s prophecy the night that Dumbledore interviewed her at the Hog’s Head Inn. I was thrown out before I heard it all. I was spying for Voldemort.”

“You hate me because you wish it had been me instead of her,” Harry cried. “You loved her.”

“Yes,” Snape said, his voice ringing with pain. “If I had known that his curse on you would not kill him, I would have saved her instead of you.”


*Author's note. I hope you're enjoying this story. i will upload new chapters quickly. Let me know what you think and review. Thanks Natasha

Chapter Ten


Harry set the chair upright just as Peabody walked into the room. Snape was still at the bookcase and Harry was staring at him. Snape was returning the stare. And for the first time Harry saw that there was something besides contempt in the man’s face.

“Well! What’s on the agenda for the day boys?” Peabody collapsed into his favorite chair and Blackmoore, who had entered the room unnoticed, had place a cup of fresh tea at his elbow.

Harry’s mouth was dry from what he heard. “I’m…I’m going to my room for a moment and then I’m going to St. Mungo’s to visit Lupin.

Peabody’s head came up and he scratched his stubble of a beard. He had changed his clothes and wore his usual shabby attire. Harry knew, based on his living style, that Peabody was very wealthy but insisted on wearing his ‘comfortable clothes.' He watched the older man as he did the calculations that were part and parcel of every thought that ever went on in his head.

“I see Harry,” Peabody nodded. “Severus it seems wise for you to go along with the boy.”

Snape crossed the room to stand in front of him and glare down. “You know Rolly whenever I’m around you I always feel like a wind-up clock, with no free will of my own.” He stood waiting until Peabody graced him with a smile.

“Understand what you mean dear boy,” Peabody clicked his yellowish teeth together and yanked his customary paper up in front of his eyes.

Harry still shaken from the news Snape had given him, hurried off to his room, where he found that his stomach couldn’t hold his breakfast. He stood staring into the mirror and replayed in his mind the scenes as he imagined them. His mother going to Snape with a clever way to try and save him. Snape’s churlish manner when he saw her, suspecting that she would beg for her life and instead saving his. Snape loving her! Harry closed his eyes and willed his stomach to stop rolling.

The scenes went on until he yanked his glasses off and stuck his head into the basin of cold water. He held it there until there was no breath left in his lungs and then he yanked it up, pretending that the droplets that ran down his face was nothing but water.

“You’re worse than a girl,” he said spitting at the mirror.

Ten minutes later he stood in the doorway to the study. Without speaking, he saw Snape stand and follow him. They were headed for muggle London and the entrance to St. Mungo’s. Harry walked as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. He couldn’t tolerate the thought of allowing his Potion’s Master to walk at his side. He wasn’t ready.

They stopped at the store-front of an old shabby brick building with a sign that read Purges and Dowes Ltd. that posed as the entrance to the wizard hospital. Harry was very aware of the entrance because he had been there before when Arthur Weasley had been bitten by Voldemort’s snake and Harry had seen it from afar, laying in his own bed in Griffindor Tower. Harry stared at the dummy in the store front window who appeared to be even more dilapidated than the first time he’d seen her.

“We’re here to see Remus Lupin,” he said to her. He and Snape stepped through together into the waiting room and advanced to the front desk. There were very few people present at that hour since it was very close to noon. Harry repeated his words and the receptionist pointed over her shoulder to the floor guide.

“Normally he would be on the fourth floor because of Spell damage,” she said through a thick wad of chewing gum. “Since he’s a werewolf and the moon is almost full he had been sent to the Artifacts Accidents ward, first floor second door to your right.”

Harry nodded and led the way. He knew exactly where Remus was because he was occupying the same room that Arthur Weasley had been in. Harry stepped through the double door and felt some relief. Remus was standing at the window dressed in a hospital dressing gown and looking as well as he ever did.

“Harry!” Lupin strode over and took his hand. “I’m so glad to see you. You know, of course, about Hermione…” He glanced over his should at the only other occupant in the room and saw that the woman was asleep. “Perhaps we should step out and down the corridor. There’s a private room there without an occupant.” He led them down the hall and turned as the door closed behind them.

“Severus, thank you for bringing, Harry. I feel so much more relieved knowing that he’s with you,” Remus reached out to shake his hand and Snape stared at it momentarily before reciprocating.

“It’s alright Remus,” Harry leaned against a bed in the empty room. “We know what’s happened.”

“Are you going to go for her?” Lupin asked them both. “You know it was Percy!”

“Yes, Remus,” Harry nodded. “But it isn’t the right time yet.” Harry felt strange saying it, knowing that Lupin felt as anxious as he did about Hermione’s well-being.

Lupin nodded slowly and looked first at him and then at Snape. “You’ll be helping Harry then, Severus?” The room was dark. The only light shone through a narrow window and the crystal balls that normally illuminated the room were dark. Harry waited watching the two men.

“Yes, Lupin,” Snape said. “It seems I have a part to play in her rescue. Dumbledore sent a query to Peabody asking for information on Harry’s situation at home. Peabody realized that a chain of events was about to take place and contacted me.”

Lupin nodded, repeating in a monotone, “A chain of events.”

Snape raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“It’s very unlike Rolly to involve himself,” Lupin said. “I was relieved, don’t take me wrong, but surprised.”

“You know, Peabody?” Harry said.

Lupin turned to him. “Well, yes and no, Harry. Because of my…condition, I have associated with many people, many types of people you could say. I know about him, yes, and have met with him once.”

Snape seemed amused at what he was hearing and Harry noticed. He ignored it to ask a question, “Why didn’t you say anything to me the night I had dinner?”

Lupin frowned slightly and sighed, “Forecasters are very difficult people to be around. People don’t like them very much and I was worried about you staying with him.” He continued quickly when he noticed the expression on Snape’s face, “Not that I believe he is a bad person or that he would harm you, Harry.”

“What then Lupin?” Snape asked smoothly. “Do you think this precious boy will be unduly influenced by Rolly? I can assure you he is in the best of hands.”

Harry could feel them choosing up sides, Snape willing to protect Peabody and Remus willing to go to bat for Harry’s. If he hadn’t known what Snape had told him earlier it wouldn’t have made sense. But he was beginning to understand with more clarity what stood between the two men. “Remus, it’s ok. Peabody treats me very well and Severus is there to help me.”

Snape glanced over at Harry and looked at him as if he had suddenly grown donkey ears and Remus was half turned to him with a puzzled expression on his face.

Lupin continued to speak, “I only meant Severus, that a person can feel very overwhelmed by an accomplished Forecaster. A person can feel like a puppet on strings, governed by a set of calculations of events.”

Harry nodded, “It is intimidating at first Remus. Peabody is showing me how it’s done; but I still decide when and what to do when I feel like it. It’s clear that Peabody’s life is pretty narrow because he relies on it so much. But that‘s not to say he isn‘t brilliant.”

The two men seemed to step back from one another. “In this case, his skills will prove very important,” Harry said and stood. “Hermione is being held by Percy. He’ll hand her over to Voldemort but he’s going to want to leave a trail of crumbs for me, to draw me out. That’s what this is all about,” Harry said. “Professor Snape is in a difficult position because Voldemort’s going to trust that he’ll give me up, that he’s playing along, pretending he’s on Dumbledore’s side until the last minute and then will show his true loyalties.”

Snape followed Harry with his eyes as he made his way around the room. Lupin had seated himself and was listening.

Harry stopped at the narrow window. “He’s grown tired of wondering what Severus is doing, whether he’s playing both sides. The reward will be getting me and finally doing away with me.” The room was silent for several minutes. “I’m afraid there’s a good chance that something bad will happen to Percy. He’s in the way.”

The two men remained very still and Harry turned to look at them in the dim light, leaning against the window seal. “I’m afraid one of us will have to kill him.”

Remus gasped, “Harry, just tell me where Hermione is and I’ll go get her. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to expose yourself.” He turned to Snape with a pleading tone in his voice. “Severus?”

Harry broke in, “It won’t work, Remus. Professor Snape has to take me there as his prisoner. It’s the only way to get in. You couldn’t go alone, I can’t go alone and neither can he. It’s only believable if he and I go together.”

Remus stared at him and then looked back at Snape who remained quiet his hands folded before him. Harry knew what he was thinking. Lupin was unsure of Snape’s loyalties, wasn’t sure that once in front of Voldemort that Snape wouldn’t do just exactly what Harry had just described.

“Remus…” Harry walked over slowly and stood at Snape’s side. “I trust him.”

---------------------------

They left the hospital room and stepped out into the street under the dull gray London skies.

“You impress me, Potter,” Snape said coolly. “I didn’t know that you could Forecast that far ahead. Rolly has taught you well.”

Harry glanced up. He knew that the man was acknowledging his support in front of Remus. “I wasn’t Forecasting, Professor. You and I both know that’s the way it’ll end up.” He started walking and Snape joined him. “Anyway, that will keep Remus out of our hair for now.”

They walked on in silence and Snape slowed at a curb. “This way Potter. We’re going to Hannah’s.”

Harry looked up and saw a decadent store front. It was an adult bookstore and the windows were plastered with posters of nude women. The glass was filthy from collected dirt and a string of bright multi-colored lights encircled each window. It looked like someone’s shabby, years-old Christmas decorating. Snape noticed his expression.

“Better get used to it, Potter. We’re not out for a picnic. If you want to find the Dark Lord you’ve got to go where he lives and this is the world in which he lives,” Snape pushed open the door and stepped in. “Coming?” They wandered through the narrow aisles towards a back room that smelled vilely and through a wall that Snape knew the combination to. Harry remembered a moment many years before when he’d stood before the wall behind Diagon Alley and watched Hagrid tap on the bricks to open up this new and wonderful world.

The wall opened and Harry held his breath for a moment. It smelled so bad he thought they were at the opening to hell.

-----------------------


Harry was surprised at the warmth of Hannah’s shop. It was located down a dark street, where the walls were covered with centuries of black soot and grime. He walked behind Snape who’s very look caused the inhabitants of the street to turn the other way.

The street was narrow and the shops that lined it had small dark windows. Harry chanced to look in several and saw a few figures moving in the dark interiors. Some of the signs above the doors advertised the kind of store but a quick glance in the windows told Harry something different. Several times a figure would step out and speak quietly to Snape, who would shrug them off and continue on.

Once, he thought he glimpsed a glistening metal table piled with what appeared to be ‘body parts! Snape grabbed him by the cloak and yanked him away before he could look again.

“Stay with me,” he hissed.

They passed several outdoor stalls and several pubs where doors opened wide into darkness. Harry could hear the sound of voices and sometimes raucous laughter; the smell of rum and rank spirits drifted from them.. A raven perched on the edge of one door and cawed at them as they passed underneath. In the stalls beneath, merchants dressed and hooded in dark somber, sometimes ragged clothes, reached out to claw at them as they passed.

“The best ye kin get, laddie. Come and ‘av a look. Dragon‘s heart and all the part’s ye need fer brewin‘. ” The witch screaming at him reeked of body odor, rum and the stench of death. “Why we have the best recovered remains on the street. Fresh outta the graveyard.”

Harry shrunk back and stepped up his pace. He wasn’t surprised when several dark men, dressed from head to toe in black, their faces covered, would address Snape. “Potion’s Master,” one whispered throatily, “’ave you come fer some special ingredients. Let me show you- the finest in Egyptian scarabs. No? Spider webs, then, foxglove. Jus’ tell me and a kin fetch it fer ye.”

“Not today,” Snape said stepping into the cobbled street and around the misshapen black figure.

By the time they reached Hannah’s shop Harry could taste the street in his mouth and desperately wanted to wash it away. Snape stopped and waited for Harry to look up.

Madam LaFoye’s Apothecary was written in fading gold letters on the sign over the door. Unlike some of the other shops, there were lights shining from within. Harry noticed that the street was a little cleaner, age-old garbage didn’t cover the stone sidewalk and the air was a little purer.

“Why didn’t we go in from the muggle side?’ Harry asked.

Snape shot a look at him, “Too dangerous for her. If we were seen going in from that side they would know. Here on this side, no one pays attention.” He reached for the heavy brass door knob to the side of the etched glass door. “Sometimes there’s an advantage to being an outcast in society Potter.”

They entered and Hannah met them. She smiled at both of them, “Severus darling, have you gotten over your grim mood?” She kissed him again on the lips and reached for Harry who was looking over the items in the shop. There were several round tables covered in brightly colored shawls and tablecloths that were scattered around the small area. Each had items for sale sitting on them, including books, crystal balls, brass lamps, candles and other assorted items. Harry noticed that glass-fronted cabinets with items sitting on their shelves that looked interesting. He thought they were probably some of the amulets that Hannah had told him about.

He was just leaning over staring at a set of silver goblets with a very familiar family crest on them. He looked closer, they were from the Sirius mansion and carried the Black family crest. Harry would have known them anywhere since he’d helped clean the room they came from. He reached over to open the door when Hannah touched his hand and turned him away.

“These will only bring back sad memories Harry,” she brushed his cheek with her lips and pulled him into the interior of the shop. “People sell things to me and I in turn sell them to others.” She looked at him with her dark eyes. “They are just things, Harry. There is no life in them. Come. I have lunch prepared upstairs.” She guided him to a circular wrought-iron staircase leading to the upper floors. Harry guessed that Snape had already gone up by himself, but he was wrong. When they stepped into the tiny flat above the shop he was not there.

A small table was set and Hannah pushed him gently into a chair. “I will finish the preparation while we talk. If you wish to freshen up the bathroom is there. Harry saw that the bathroom was at the end of the room just past the bed. The bathroom appeared to be the only separate room in the flat. Hannah noticed his glance around the room and smiled, saying, “I lived most of my growing years in a wagon, Harry. The smallness of these rooms seems very grand to a person like me. And they suit me well. ”

“Where did Severus go?” Harry accepted a chilled glass of pumpkin juice and relaxed. The atmosphere was very comfortable and homey.

Hannah brought a cup of tea to the small table with two chairs. “He’ll return soon.” She reached over to touch his brow. It allowed him to see the smooth skin of her neck leading down to the round breasts and cleavage peeking just above the blood-orange blouse that was pulled down on her shoulders. He couldn’t seem to see anything else. She brushed the hair from his eyes, her fingers grazing the lightening shaped scar. His hand went up to catch her wrist. She gently pried his fingers off and pushed his hand to his lap; removing his glasses with the other hand.

“We must find a way to disguise you. Since we gypsies are so good at disguises, Severus has left you in my hands. I’m going to dress you like a Roma man, Harry. There are clothes in the bathroom and then we will have to cut this hair.”

He almost closed his eyes as he felt the fingers gently tugging at his hair. It sent a wave of electricity through him. Harry couldn’t see her features clearly to his dismay and put his glasses back on. “Someone tried that once, Hannah. My Aunt cut my hair when I was little and it grew back almost immediately.

She grinned with her straight white teeth setting off the deep dimples on each cheek. She whispered, “But you are not a Chavo (boy) anymore, and now you understand that you can control the magic that lives here.” She touched his chest her palm warm over his heart where he knew that she could feel it speed up at her touch. “We will cut it and then a hat I think. It is the glasses that worry me.” She dropped her hand and sipped the tea.

Harry shook his head. “There’s nothing for it. I can’t see a thing without them.”

She nodded,” Severus says there is a muggle device that will help you see without them. He has gone to find this thing.” She stood and went back to the small kitchen. “Go now and change your clothes. They are in the bathroom. Let us see if you make a proper Roma man.”

Harry stood and walked the few feet to the bathroom. He found the clothes neatly laid on a stool. He stared in the mirror for the second time in the day and looked at himself. He knew that Hannah was too old for him, and really didn’t intend to disturb him as much as he felt disturbed. He was beginning to understand how she was naturally a warm, touching, sensuous woman and why Snape had fallen in love with her.

There was a noise from the shop below and he stuck his head out in time for Hannah to shake her head and warn him to stay put. He watched from a crack in the door as she slipped down the stairs.

That voice, it was familiar, Harry thought. He crossed the room on tiptoe and bent to catch the view of the shop. He held his breath when he saw who it was.

“Hannah, my darling!” Lucius Malfoy was standing at the counter with his arm around Hannah’s waist. He kissed her full-mouthed and ran his lips down her neck.

Hannah was smiling and pushing at him. “Mr. Malfoy, not in front of your son.”

Malfoy laughed harshly, “He’s hardly a flower that is going to wilt Hannah. Why he had his first woman before he was thirteen.”

Harry watched as Draco Malfoy came into view. His face was covered with a smirk as he watched his father paw at the woman. Hannah was struggling to break free and keep the man’s hands off of her.

“Lucius, what is it you want?” she purred, her smile strained.

“We’ve come to do a little shopping.” Malfoy twisted his hand in her hair at the back of her head and spoke softly to her. “I’ve heard you’ve acquired a few more things from the Black mansion. Bellatrix gave me a list. Now that her dear cousin is dead, we should be able to recoup some of the items that were previously lost to us.”

“There is nothing there of importance Lucius,” Hannah broke free. “You can see what I have here in the case.” She pulled a key from her skirt and unlocked the curio that Harry had looked at. “I shall be hearing from my associate soon.”

Lucius laughed again, “Associate! You mean that house elf, Kreacher.” He swept his cloak off and dropped it on the counter, ignoring the glass curio cabinet. “You always had a way of talking like a pureblood, Hannah. We both know that you are not.” Lucius reached and grabbed her wrist. “Since we cannot have what we came for, perhaps we can take something else away with us.”

Harry watched in horror as Malfoy pulled Hannah across the shop towards the stairs. Draco smirked and relaxed in a chair near the door. Lucius Malfoy was pulling her up the spiral stairs directly towards the small flat and Harry knew exactly what he intended to do. His blood was beating in his ears and he had pulled his wand out.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and yanked him back from the whole in the floor where the stairs poked through. A hand was clamped around his mouth and he was drug backwards on his heels into the bathroom. He was turned loose and he swung around to see Snape standing there. He had his wand out and instead of pointing it to Harry he was performing a spell on himself. The buttons on his cassock-like black coat sprang loose and he was stripping quickly to his pants.

“Keep your mouth shut, Potter,” he said quickly. “No matter what you hear or see. Malfoy cannot find you here. Do you understand?”

Harry was nodding as he stared at Snape’s body. The man was now down to just his trousers. He flipped the black boots off and opened the door. Harry saw his back. Crisscrossed over it in a hundred different ways were white scars, the remains of perhaps a hundred or more severe beatings.

Harry stepped over and peered through the crack in the door.

Snape stepped into the room just as Malfoy’s white head of hair peeked over the rim. He hadn’t seen Snape yank the blankets and bed linen back to make it look as if he had just gotten up from the bed. Malfoy still had a firm grasp on Hannah’s wrist and literally lifted her the last step to the floor of the flat. It was then that he saw Snape.

“Severus,” the man said, appearing startled. “Hello, old boy!”

“Lucius,” Snape returned the greeting, his voice as hard as the sound of an iron hammer.

“I see that you’ve already had the pleasures of our sweet Hannah,” Malfoy regained his composure quickly and said with some amusement in his voice, “Perhaps we can enjoy a nice afternoon of her company and have a little party.”

Snape advanced slowly and Hannah was staring at him with frightened eyes, standing just behind Malfoy. “Malfoy, I have always admired you for your style and manners when I was growing up. This kind of behavior is beneath you, OLD BOY.”

Malfoy smiled and turned loose of Hannah’s wrist. He looked around the small place and languidly leaned against a wall.

Harry looked over the bathroom frantically searching for his wand. He’d dropped it when Snape had pulled him in. It looked like the two men were going to have it out and duel right then and there.

“We’re not going to fight over some gypsy are we, Severus? Really that would be beneath both of us don’t you think?” Lucius was saying. Harry found his wand and stepped back to the crack. “Come old friend. I’ll meet you down at the hotel and we can have a glass of wine and discuss business.” Malfoy stepped over to the stairs as if nothing had happened between them. He disappeared quickly and Harry heard the front door of the shop open and close.

Snape closed on Hannah quickly and held her. Harry turned away from the scene and found himself staring again in the mirror. Sitting on the edge of the sink was a pair of contact lens. For the first time, he also noticed a crack in the wall just to the left of the sink. He reached over and gave the wall a gentle push. The wall swung away revealing a dark hallway.


* I am posting Chapters as fast as the site will allow. I hope you will read and review. Thanks Natasha

Chapter Eleven Hermione’s Hero

Peabody was listening to some Gaelic music sung solo by a boy of about ten with the voice of an angel. Harry stepped into the room and listened. He didn’t understand the words and the beat of the small hand-held drum was mesmerizing. He thought it was beautiful. It was a ballad that was easy to see and Harry watched the face of the child. He was surprised that the boy showed no emotion, because it was obvious that the song was telling a tale of pain and sorrow.

When the child finished he left without a word and Harry stepped in all the way and found his normal place at the table.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Peabody was sipping a glass of amber-colored wine. It was late afternoon and the sun was getting closer to the horizon. “I hope Hannah wasn’t hurt badly.”

“You knew,” Harry said calmly, not looking at the man but staring at the chess men on the board.

“Yes, Harry. I knew. That’s why I sent Severus along with you,” Peabody sounded irritated and Harry looked up feeling angry himself. “This is what I do, Harry. I am a Forecaster. Of course, I knew what would happen. Lucius Malfoy was on a direct line to meet with Severus and you were the intersecting factor.”

Peabody looked him over and Harry was staring back having forgotten that his appearance had changed considerably.

Harry had waited until he could not hear Severus’ voice and stepped out into the room. Hannah had composed herself and was waiting for him. The light was gone from her eyes but she smiled. ““Yes, you are a Roma boy, mi kava (my love),” she caressed his cheek and then laughed and shoved a hat on his head. “We need to cut the hair first. But you will pass.” They spent the next hour talking. Harry learned that the clothes he wore were very traditional for her people. He wore a shirt with an open neck and a kerchief tied at this throat that was called a dikhlo. The shirt was covered with a vest embroidered in symbols and astral signs. He wore leather trousers tucked into a set of high black boots. The Homburg hat was the crowning touch; something he could use to pull down low on his face.

As they talked Hannah cut his hair and taught him Romani words. They didn’t speak of Snape.

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Peabody stood with a book held tight to his chest and was still frowning when Harry waved his hand and threw himself back in the chair. He was tired and felt weary from the constant tension. “It’s alright Peabody.” Harry knew that for the man to even send Snape was an intervention he would not have contemplated before. He was reticent to interfere in events and Harry was beginning to understand why. Once he took a step to intervene he changed the calculations and the possible outcome.

Harry looked over the chess pieces and thought to himself, I can change the course of events by intervening, but the outcome can turn out worse than it would be if I do nothing at all. He thought about the afternoon. If Peabody had not sent Snape with him, then he would have been caught by Malfoy and probably turned over to Voldemort immediately. There would be no need to keep Hermione and she would probably be killed. By sending Snape, Harry was saved, but Hannah was almost assaulted. Malfoy was already suspicious of Snape and now the two were talking to each other. That meeting would not have taken place if Snape had not been along. It could mean that Snape’s role as a double agent and spy would be in jeopardy.

Snape has saved his life, Harry thought. And those scars! Who had given him those scars?

Harry asked the question, but knew the answer and in spite of himself, he began to feel sorry for his Potion‘s Master.


Harry sat with his head on his hands, both laying on the table. He looked over the chess men and his eyes flew over the pieces. He knew how Percy had found Hermione. Kreacher, Sirius’ seriously demented house elf was now living with his only surviving relative of any consequence; Narcissa Black Malfoy.

He added another black piece to the board and sat back. There were now twelve black pieces on the board and there were seven white ones. Harry kept looking at the black king, picking it up in his hand.

Voldemort, he mused, what is your weakness. How can I get to you?

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Hermione sat in the dingy room, her mouth gagged and her hands bound. Percy was drinking fire whiskey and looking at her.

“Potter! My family thinks more of Potter than they ever thought of me,” he said slurring his words. “The famous Harry Potter with all that money. Now he’s famous again and everybody’s just stepping all over themselves to be his friend!’ Percy rolled a chair over with his foot and laid it on top. “What do you think he would do if he knew that you were with me? Me, of all people. Ron’s brother. Precious Ron!” Percy shoved the chair aside and stood. He pulled Hermione’s head back by grabbing her hair. She caught her breath and stared at him unable to speak and hardly able to breath.

“Precious Hermione Granger,” Percy said spitting into her face. “What do you see in that boy. He’s going to die you know. The Dark Lord is going to kill him soon; is setting it up even as we speak. You’re a smart girl, why d’ya hang around him?” Percy was leaning in and Hermione choked at the smell of him. He had not bathed and he stunk of fire whiskey and days of sitting in this room without changing his clothes.

“I’m going to take your gag off ‘Mione,” Percy lurched to the table, letting go of her and reaching for his wand. He appeared to have a sudden change of heart. “I’ll give you a chance to use the lavatory and there’s food here. Maybe…maybe we can talk,” Percy said turning the wand to point it in her face. She nodded slowly and squinted at the tip of the wand, hoping that he was not too drunk to use the correct spell.

Still dressed in her evening gown she used the time in the bathroom to study here surroundings. Since being kidnapped she had been gagged and tied in one place. Now she examined the window and anything that was loose in the bathroom.

I’ve got to escape, she thought. He’s going to wait for Harry to come for me and it’s going to be too late then. Please, please don’t come for me Harry.

Hermione returned to the room to find Percy passed out. She slipped over and gingerly withdrew the wand from his hand. Grabbing the bulk of her gown in one hand and the wand in the other she backed up and dropped her dress to reach for the door knob. It opened easily.

“Where do you think you’re going mud blood,” the voice was smooth and silky.
Hermione turned slowly and saw the wand pointed at her face. It was held in the hand of an all to familiar enemy, Lucius Malfoy. Standing behind him was Severus Snape.

The two stepped into the room and Hermione once again found herself sitting at the chair that had been her prison for the past three days. Malfoy’s eyes were running down her body as if peeling away the layers of clothes she wore.

“So how is our Mr. Weasley treating you, my dear?” he asked reaching to touch her exposed throat. His fingers moved slowly down, his eyes never leaving her face.

She looked at Snape and saw only grim coldness there.

“I’d rather my cold dead corpse lie in a coffin in the ground then let you touch me, Malfoy! Kill me and get it over with, because if you leave me alive I‘ll make you suffer.” Hermione whispered.

That brought an amused smile to the man’s lips and he withdrew his hand. “I wouldn’t touch a mud blood Miss Granger, out of fear of catching something terrible. My friend Severus here, on the other hand, seems to find having his way with mud-bloods his very cup of tea. I think I’ll sit back and let him amuse me.” Lucius stepped over, knocked the unconscious Percy to the ground and sat pertly in the chair. “Go ahead Severus. The Dark Lord will want me to give him a glowing report of your prowess.”

Hermione whipped her head around to look at her Potions professor. Merlin’s Beard! she thought. Not him!

Chapter Twelve Hermione’s Kiss

Harry fingered each piece on the board and ate his supper in silence and alone. Several things were taking place in his head; one was the haunting song of the boy that had been singing when he came in the room. The other was Snape. He had taken in a lot of information through the day; Snape’s confession, Lupin’s apparent knowledge of Peabody and the story that Snape had told him about his mother.

Harry thought of Hannah and Snape’s affection for her; their affection for each other. The heat seemed to go out of his own thoughts for her. Unlike Mrs. Weasley who was a more mature motherly person in his life, Hannah had some of the motherly touches but treated him much more like an equal. Like Hermione, he thought. Yes, like Hermione.

Harry reached for the piece that signified Hermione and froze. Peabody had moved the pieces on the board while he was gone. Standing in the center were four pieces; the Black Knight, a Black Bishop- Malfoy, Hermione’s piece and Percy. What’s going on, what’s happening, he thought, shoving back the chair. Harry didn’t notice when Blackmoore stepped into the room and began to light the lamps. His mind was racing over all the possibilities.

---------------------

Hermione watched as Snape began to unbutton his coat. She was choking back tears, determined not to show him fear. Malfoy was sitting and watching.

“Professor,” she said pressing her spine against the chair as if she could move further away from him. “You don’t want to do this. You’ll never be able to go back to Hogwarts again.” She was trying to speak calmly. Snape removed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Oh show some finesse, Severus,” Malfoy chuckled. “Remove the ladies clothing first. Who cares about what you have on.”

Snape flicked a glance at Malfoy and dropped his hands from his shirt. He leaned over and put his hands under her hair at the back of her head to unbutton her dress.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Malfoy jumped up, pushed Snape aside and slapped Hermione across the face when she protested.

“Please, oh please don’t!’ she whispered.

When she dropped her head he took one swipe of his hand and yanked her cloak from her and tore the dress away from her shoulder. She raised her hand and he pulled out his wand, intending to undress her with one quick spell.

“Malfoy!” A voice broke the spell. “CRUCIO!” Percy was lying on the floor and had grabbed the wand that Hermione dropped.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Malfoy shouted, dropping to his knees in agony. He had reacted very quickly to the source of his pain. The green light shot out and hit Percy before he ever reached his feet.

Snape pulled Hermione from her chair and held her protectively to his side, pointing his wand at Malfoy, “EXPELLIARMUS!” Malfoy’s wand easily escaped the man’s hand.

Lucius was laying on the ground panting, still in pain. “So…so that is how it is,” he said.

Snape nodded. “Yes, Lucius. That is how it is.”

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Harry was pacing the floor in tight circles around the table. The loft was silent except for the ticking of a clock.

What is happening?! he wondered. Where are you Peabody? Harry knew that the man could tell him what was happening and had probably gone off to have dinner somewhere so that he didn’t have to tell Harry the bad news.

A thud brought him from his anxious reverie and he listened to footsteps making their way across the loft from the Knockturn Alley entrance. They were softened by the intervening walls and carpets.

Harry crossed the floor but was not quick enough. Snape walked in carrying Hermione in his arms. He cradled her head on his shoulder and carried her with ease. She was awake, but staring blankly.

“Potter,” Snape laid her on the couch. “Fetch me that bottle of Sherry over there. Bring me a glass.”

Harry stepped over and then came to his sense when the Potion’s Master looked up at him with a glance that would freeze fire. He moved quickly. “What’s wrong? What happened? What did you do to her?”

Snape ignored him and pressed the crystal glass to her lips. Harry could see them trembling. “Drink, Miss Granger.”

She sipped and coughed as the burning liquid went down. Slowly, she took one sip at a time and Harry noticed that there was some color coming back into her face. Satisfied that she was doing alright, Snape stood and went over to the table to pour himself a glass of the sherry. Harry was on his knees and holding her hands pressed in his.

“Mione!” Harry whispered, tears close to the surface.

“Har…Harry?” she looked up at him with some confusion.

It was then that he realized that she almost didn’t recognize him. “Yes. ‘Mione. It’s me.”

“You look so different,” she said calmly. Without notice she reared up and encircled his neck with her arms, “Oh Harry! Percy’s dead!”

Harry held her tightly, his face buried in her hair. He held her until the sobs began to subside and then he let go and turned to Snape. “I didn’t see it,” he said. “Not this way.”

Snape nodded. “Peabody sent me with you this morning. He knew that it would change the course of events.” Snape sat down and looked at him, expressionless. “We have to do this another way.”

Harry knew what he meant. They had anticipated finding Voldemort through Percy and saving Hermione at the last minute. Now Snape’s loyalties were exposed or soon would be, once Malfoy was not available to meet with his master. Harry considered the events.
I’m not good at this Forecasting, he decided. Not at all!

Hermione had already fallen asleep in his arms. Harry looked down at her. “Thank you,” he said to Snape. “Thank you for saving her.”

“Don’t credit me with that, Potter,” Severus said standing and setting the empty glass on the table. “I was willing to do whatever it took to not expose the plan to Malfoy. It was Percy Wesley who saved her. Perhaps that will be some comfort to his family.” He walked from the room without looking back and Harry watched the darkened door for a long time before he turned back to Hermione.

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A week later Hermione was sitting in the study and Harry was being tutored by Peabody. Harry was growing tired and stole a look at Hermione. She had been content to sit in Peabody’s study and read his books and talk to him while Harry went out periodically with Snape.

He noticed her staring at him absently and finally stopped Peabody mid-sentence, “What, Hermione? What?!”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh…oh, well it’s nothing really Harry,” she said quickly. “It’s just that you look so…so different that’s all. I mean without your glasses and all. Actually, you look good.”

Peabody scooted out of the room on some errand and left them alone.

Harry stared at her nonplussed and then shaking his head he returned to the playing board and the books that Peabody was forever piling around him like a defensive wall. He dropped his head once more to the very old, jewel encrusted book in his hands and read: the Snape Family descends from a very long line of Romanian people that are known for their defenders of the Faith. Starting with Hubert Borgnon Snape who was in the Fourth Crusade to the present Snape heirs, each line has produced a male who has fought on the side of good to quench the fires of evil.

“Hermione! Come here and read this,” Harry said loudly. “Come here, hurry.”

“What is it, Harry?” she slipped her legs out from under her where she had curled like a cat on the sofa and padded over in stocking feet. She’d taken to wearing Muggle clothing and had donned a pair of slacks and a blouse.

“Read this,” Harry said, “it’s about Snape.” He handed her the heavy volume and she sat in the next chair and read. He watched her skim the words with lightening speed. If anyone could read and condense something down into pure form, it was Hermione. Harry also watched for any hesitancy. He didn’t know if Snape had purposefully lied to him, but he wanted to see what reaction Hermione was having to the name. She still hadn’t told him what had happened in Percy’s flat.

He waited while she flipped over several pages. “Well?”

She looked up. “Yes, well, it’s all very interesting. But this book is so old Harry it only goes to…let’s see,” she ran her finger down a list, her brown bushy head bent close to the page. “It only shows Snape’s grandfather…no, great-grandfather.” She looked up. “Is there something significant about this information?”

Harry accepted the book back and shook his head, “No not really. It’s just that we know so little about our teachers. I mean I really don’t know anything at all hardly about Dumbledore, Sirius, or…or anyone. I mean I hardly know anything about you even.” Harry said it and shook his head. “I really must be self-centered and conceited like Snape thinks. I don’t even know very much about my closest friend.”

She smiled and put a hand over his. “Just what is it you don’t know, Harry?”

He stared at her and her pretty smile. He had missed her smile and reassurances. It also made him realize that he missed seeing Ron even more. They were his closest friends and his ‘family,' he thought. Yes, my family, he decided. The only one I‘ll ever have.

“Nothing I guess,” he muttered.

She reached in her jean pockets and pulled out a gold box and threw it at him, “It’s times like these when we need someone who’s not so serious. Someone like Ron.” The box was a chocolate frog.

“You must have been reading my mind, ‘Mione,” he smiled slightly.

“I miss him too, Harry,” she said. “I wish I could be there for him. Lupin’s already gone to the family and it’s just under my skin that we don’t know what’s happening.”

She looked so sad and worried that Harry reached for her hand. They sat for a moment holding hands and she was stroking his unconsciously. The sensation was very much like Hannah’s touch, very gentle and warm. Suddenly, she looked up and Harry looked into her face and saw the sadness and worry for him.

Without thinking about it he leaned over and touched her pink lips with his own. He closed his eyes and waited. Then, they parted. She was blushing pink and he could feel himself getting warmer.

“Harry?” she asked, eyes down to the table.

“Yeah,” he had withdrawn his hand.

“I don’t want you to take this wrong,” she said very softly, “I love you, I really do. But that was almost like kissing…a…a brother.” She glanced up and he found himself grinning. “I don’t mean your bad at it or anything…”

He laughed a little and leaned over to brush her cheek with his lips, “’Mione, I’m glad you said it first. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” She nodded in relief.

Someone clearing their throat brought Harry’s attention to the door. Speak of the devil, he thought. Standing in the doorway was Remus Lupin and just behind him, his face a mixture of happiness and sadness, was Ron Weasley.

“Ron!” they both shouted and were on their feet and over to him in a flash. Lupin stood aside to let the threesome greet each other.

Chapter Thirteen Friends

Harry went to bed feeling some relief. His friends were with him, even if it was for a short time. He didn’t feel as alone. And now they knew. He looked in the mirror once again. This time he saw a face that he hardly recognized. His sandy brown hair was cut short, hardly long enough to run a comb through. His eyes were brown and Hannah had performed a bit of magic in covering the famous scar with a tattoo.

He looked at it with some consternation; it was the figure of a green dragon. She reassured him that many of her kin wore facial tattoos. She had even reported that if he walked among the Romani and spoke the words she had taught him, he would find friends everywhere he went. He thought he would probably wear the hat she had given him instead.

He crawled into bed and watched the moon rise. It was a full moon. For that reason Remus had not been able to stay with them. He’d stayed for supper. That, Harry thought, turned out to be the best time he could remember having. Even though Ron was still grieving over the death of his brother, Hermione was timid and wearing multiple layers of clothes, Remus was subdued having just been discharged from St. Mungo’s; he, Harry was enjoying the company. Peabody was obviously enjoying it as well. He was at his best, entertaining them with stories of his days at Hogwarts. He’d even gone so far as to pull aside a long length of curtain and reveal a small terrace. They sat in the late summer night with candlelight illuminating the silver on the table, and talked.

“Yes, yes,” Peabody nodded chewing away at his food and stirring it with is fork. “Being around McGonagall was like swimming in shark infested waters when I was teaching there. Love the old gal, but she is a formidable witch.” Peabody nodded at Hermione, who had asked a question. “I hear once that she played Quidditch in her better days. Don’t doubt it! Probably stripped down her broom and rebuilt it for racing. Wouldn’t put it past her.” Harry and Ron grinned at each other. “She wasn’t past doing all kinds of things outside the rules.”

Hermione frowned at them as she caught Harry chuckling, Ron just burst out laughing. “But Peabody, McGonagall’s animagus, tell us about that.”

Harry listened to her questioning, realizing that it was her desire to learn how to do her own transformation.

“Miss Granger,’ Peabody’s jowls shook as he chewed more vigorously. Harry could always tell when the man got nervous. “I know that you are practicing to transform. But it is a difficult procedure and you will need some assistance. I was never very good at transfiguration. Perhaps we can persuade Severus to help you.”

Harry stopped chewing his own food to watch Hermione. She studied her plate and nodded slowly. “Perhaps.”

“Hermione,” Ron asked, unaware of her changed mood, “what would you change into?”

She looked up and frowned at him. “Well Ron, it’s not that you have a choice from what I’ve read on the subject. Once you begin to transform, the form takes shape without guided intelligence. Of course, you know what I mean. You’re still you, but in animal form. It’s just that you can’t pick and choose.”

Harry knew she would have offered to loan him a book to read on the subject, but also knew that Ron would never read it.

Peabody nodded, and grumbled, “Known it to go wrong. Several witches and wizards stayed the animals they transformed into. Best one I ever saw do it was Tom Riddle, course.” He stopped stirring and chewing looked up to see everyone else looking at him. Harry knew that he had their complete attention.

“Voldemort is an animagus?” he choked.

Peabody laid his fork and knife down very slowly and Harry knew he was about to bolt. He reached out and touched Peabody’s shoulder. “Is it…is it a snake?” he asked.

Peabody looked at his plate guiltily and sat silently.

“It’s alright,” Harry encouraged. “Just think of it as part of my research.”

“No…no,” he finally croaked, “not a snake. The Riddle’s were not a well known family.” He began to eat again and talk almost like a teacher reciting lessons. “Of course, Tom’s Riddle’s mother was a witch and the father abandoned them when he was born because of it. It’s said that Tom was not the true son of his father. But there’s nothing for it, he was the spitting image of his father. I saw him later when he was older, and knew his father generally when I was a young boy.”

“What’s not well-known is that the Riddle’s were descendant’s of royalty, the blood-line long since weakened with intermarriage with lower class witches and Muggles. The mother died just after Tom‘s birth and he was raised in an orphanage. It’s very strange because the mother was not without relations. Any number of her kin could have raised the boy,” Peabody said and then mumbled, “Perhaps he wasn’t aware of them.”

“His animagus,” Hermione reminded him.

“Oh yes,” Peabody sipped at his wine. “It was McGonagall that taught him how to do it.”

That stopped them all again.

“But he’s not a registered animagus,” Hermione finally said. Harry knew that she would know. When she captured the journalist, Rita Sweeter, in a fruit jar after the woman had spent a year spying on them, Hermione had told he and Ron about the registry.

Peabody snickered, “Miss Granger, you are now among the lawless, ruthless and penniless. You are not in your own world. Tom Riddle- Lord Voldemort- doesn’t care to register, if you please. However, in answer to your question; he is the most beautiful, most powerful, black panther I have ever seen. And he has eyes like blood-rubies, they appear on fire.”

They all stopped and watched him. Peabody rocked his head back and forth and sipped his wine, again attacking his beef steak heartily. “His teeth would rip your throat out before you could take your next breath. He loves to kill in that way.”

“How...how do you know, Peabody?” Harry asked.

“He has been in my apartments,” Peabody said calmly. “I taught him how to Forecast.”

If Voldemort knew how to forecast, then he would know every move they were taking, and know about it in advance. How could they hope to stay ahead of him, Harry thought with some despair.

He was caught up in the thought and didn’t really hear the question Hermione posed until he listened to Peabody’s reply. “It’s dangerous because of the energy a person uses to make the transformation. It’s more difficult for half-breeds…” Everyone gasped at the word and Peabody blanched, realizing he’d made a mistake. “Oh, terribly sorry, that’s a horrific term for half Muggle-born people, particularly in this company.”

Peabody was almost out of his seat before Hermione was the next one to hold him in his chair.

“It’s alright Rolly, really,” she cooed. “We aren’t children and we’ve all heard rough language before.” Harry watched her with fascination. He remembered when Draco Malfoy had called her a Mud-blood and it had been the biggest insult she’d ever heard. Now she was accepting the term ‘half-breed’! “Please go on,” she urged.

“Well…well,” he sat again and touched his lips with the white linen napkin. “Muggle-born or half Muggle-born don’t usually have the energy to generate the spell to transform.” He started off slowly and drew circles on the table cloth with a finger as he went along. “If you’re stopped in the middle of transforming, let’s say you run out of energy, then you are caught in the in-between. You lose your human intelligence and take on partially the animal’s intelligence that your changing into. You may be part human and part animal in form as well.”

“Like splinching,” Ron said, screwing up his face.

Harry knew what he was talking about. He’d been in the wizarding world long enough to know that when a wizard apparated they could make a mistake and leave part of themselves behind. That was the reason for the Ministry requiring licensing for apparation.

“Yes, exactly,” Peabody nodded. “However,” he raised a finger in the air and a moment passed, almost as if he was sniffing the air and thinking very hard, “when one is ‘stuck’ it is irreversible. It can be a horrible death, the body being half animal or the human mind caught in the animal body.”

They all sat looking at the thin little man and Harry could tell by the expression on Hermione and Ron’s face that they could envision it, too.

Peabody on the other hand finished his wine and stood. “I’ll say good night to you. I am expecting a visitor and you will want to spend time with each other since you will be parted soon.”

“Parted?” Harry looked after him and then turned to his friends.

“School, Harry,” Hermione refused to look at him and stared at her plate.

“Yeah, mate,” Ron said. “We’ve gotten our OWL marks and it’s just a few days before we head off for Hogwarts. Have you forgotten or what? Maybe Dumbledore or McGonagall didn’t know how to get your marks to you.”

“He knew, Ron,” Hermione extended a hand across the table to each. “Harry, may not be able to join us right away.”

Harry looked at her grimly.

“What d’you mean?” Ron asked looking at both of them.

Harry reached for the bottle of wine and poured a pinch in three clean glasses. He handed them around and raised his glass. “A toast to my friends, the only two people left in the world that I love- my family. May we always feel it in our hearts. If we can do that, then we will never be apart.” Tears glistened at the edges of Hermione’s eyes and Ron’s face paled as Harry stood and waited for them. Each pushed back their chair and drank their glasses empty.

“I have something I want to tell you,” Harry said sitting down. “Maybe you’ll understand the journey that I have to take. And it’s a journey that neither of you can take with me.”
He told them of the prophecy and the story of Snape and his mother. When he finished he stood and turned his glass over, open-mouthed to the white table cloth where the red wine dripped down and stained the white table cloth. He turned and went into the dark rooms and to his bedroom.
-----------------------
It was past midnight when the door opened to his room. Harry lay with his head turned, pretending sleep. He heard a pair of footsteps cross his room. Squinting, he turned as if tossing in his sleep. The covers were pulled back stealthily and he felt the weight of someone crawling into bed with him. Suddenly his nose picked up a fruity soapy scent and he felt the warmth of a night-gowned body next to him. With a little grunt of surprise he realized that another body was also crawling in on the other side.

“What?!” he sat up, hands back on the bed, swinging his head back and forth. “Hermione! Ron!”

“It’s ok, Harry,” Hermione cuddled down in the huge bed and pulled a pillow under her head. Ron stretched out and grabbed a hand-full of blankets and closed his eyes. “We’ve got a plan.”

“We know how to kill Voldemort,” Hermione said.

“We’re going to help,” Ron said.

The three of them lay there while the moon sailed past the arched window towards the horizon.

Chapter Fourteen


Harry left the two sleeping peacefully in his bed at dawn and nodded to Blackmoore who was entering with a tray of coffee. Harry just shook his head. Somehow Blackmoore was always there when needed to provide his special form of meticulous service. He slipped out and down the hall before anyone else was up and made his way down the flight of stairs and the door to Knockturn Alley. By this time he knew the dark streets fairly well, with or without Snape as a companion.

He thought about Hermione’s plan as he made his way inconspicuously down the dark narrow street. The lamps overhead were still lit and needed in the dim light where the morning fog was laying low on the cobble stones of the street. Harry pulled his hat down and strolled unsteadily to give the impression he was returning from a night out at the pub.

His protection was the Romani clothing he wore. He found that the street people respected the Romani wizards. There were very few gypsies that would even be caught dead in the area. If they were there, then they were to be avoided, as they were considered very powerful wizards. It gave him some credibility in an area where a knife across the throat was typical for someone in their cups wandering around the street at dawn.

Harry took his time to reach Hannah’s. The lights were on in the flat above and the store was dark. He pulled out his wand and looked down the streets both ways. He spoke softly, “ALOHOMORA.” The door opened easily to his hand. He walked through the shop in the dark, having made his way through the labyrinth of table many times before.

“Who is it?” a voice from above asked.

“Si man (It’s me),” Harry said. He’d taken to speaking Romani for Hannah.

“Avav opru (come up),” she answered. She held a lamp, its’ chimney blackened with smoke and waited for him at the top of the steps. She was still dressed in her nightgown and had thrown a shawl around her shoulders. Her hair draped down to her waist. She smiled sleepily at him and kissed him on side of the mouth. “What is it Harry?”

“I need your help, Hannah,” Harry answered, dropping his hat on the table.

-----------------------------

Harry returned to Peabody’s flat at ten o’clock. He slipped up the stairs and through the studio, past Blackmoore’s coffin and down the hall to the study. He heard voices and he stopped to listen. It was Hermione and a male voice. Harry stood in the dark hall and waited. He sensed with a sixth sense, that it was not the time to enter the room. He moved to a point where he could view the study. He was not surprised when he saw Hermione standing in front of a seated Snape.

“Professor, I beg you. I need your help. By doing this you’re also helping Harry. And, I know you’re helping Harry.” She went on, “You don’t have to like me. You can continue to berate me, call me what you like, abuse me as you have always done and I won’t say a thing or do anything about it. Once it is done, our relationship at Hogwarts will not reflect what we have done here. I‘ll not treat you any differently and you can go on being your….yourself. I will even promise to stop…speaking directly to you altogether if it is your wish.” She stood resolute in front of him, very unlike the attention-seeking girl that sat in the Potion Master’s class and tolerated his abuse.

On the other hand, Snape sat dressed in his normal black clothing and stared at her with a stony expression. “Miss Granger…” he began, in his best classroom voice.

“Mr. Snape,” Hermione spoke calmly, stepping closer until Severus craned his neck to look at her. “I stared in your eyes and I know what you intended to do. I also know why you were willing to do it. Now you owe me this; for no other reason than that you can walk away knowing that there is something decent still left inside of you. I know…” she whispered, “I know that there have been women in your life that would have been horrified at your intentions, and you would have felt shamed by their knowing. I also believe that those same women would pray that they were wrong; that there is still a heart beating inside you. I choose to believe that you could not have brought yourself to rape me.” She stopped a foot away and leaned over, “Now you can lie to me and I will never contradict you; but you will do this favor for me. And if you do, what happened will remain a secret between us to my grave.”

Harry held his breath. Hermione was talking about his mother and Snape would know that he had told them the story. Harry also knew what had taken place at Percy’s flat and he tasted the bitterness of anger in his mouth. He wondered what the man was going to do. Harry decided as he eavesdropped, that he would never question Hermione’s courage ever again. What she experienced with Malfoy, Percy and Snape must have been very frightening.

Snape stared at her, his eyes narrowed and Harry thought he saw the face soften, “No… no, you are right Miss Granger.” His voice was so low and silky that Harry thought it was almost a groan, “I didn‘t intend to rape you. I intended to kill you… if a solution didn‘t present itself immediately. Fortunately, Mr. Weasley saved me from making that decision. You would not want to be taken to Voldemort and that was the next step. Whatever I could have done or Malfoy could have done; it would have been nothing compared to what you faced with the Dark Lord. But what you ask is dangerous and you could die a death almost as horrible.”

“What do you care?” she asked, bent into his face. “You hate me anyway. I am a Mud-blood, remember? All you’ve ever done is show me contempt, Professor. The thought that you were willing to kill me instead of rape me doesn’t give me any comfort. It tells me that I am expendable in your mind and you were still protecting Malfoy.”

“It was necessary,” Snape said quietly. “Our avenues to the Dark Lord are few. I cannot find him, he must summon me to him. What would you suggest we do to find him if we lose all our chances? If Potter told you about his mother and me, then he has told you about the prophecy.”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, he has told us. And we have a plan to help him.”

Snape’s expression turned into a smirk and he gasped, “Children. Children playing games. You have no idea what you are doing. Potter is our only chance and the opportunity must not be squandered. He is the prophesized assassin of the Dark Lord. If he dies in his attempt then all is lost.”

Hermione nodded, “Tell me that you will do this and I will tell you the plan. Peabody has been teaching me forecasting, too. I know, that there is no plan on the table right now. You can’t keep Malfoy alive for long before Voldemort starts questioning his disappearance. You can’t keep diverting his attention away by seeding the Black Mansion with clues for Kreacher to find. And now Kreacher has no one to deliver his little tidbits of misinformation to. Voldemort’s going to come looking for Harry and we have a chance in the next few days to offer Harry the best support he’s probably going to get.”

“Potter must be the one to kill the Dark Lord,” Snape said.

Hermione nodded again. “Yes, I realize that. But he doesn’t have to stand alone. I’ll be there beside him.”

Snape listened and slowly nodded, “Alright, it is your skin Miss Granger. If anything goes wrong, you have been warned.”

“Oh yes, Snape, I am responsible, fully responsible. Since it seems like no one else is ever willing to take responsibility. Not Dumbledore and not you. For heaven’s sake, he was a baby the first time he faced Voldemort. And now, he’s sixteen years old and he’s been abandoned. It seems your promise to his mother stretches thin and you will fail him at the last minute. Even the great and mighty Dumbledore has left him high and dry.” Hermione was obviously angry. She straightened and was staring down at him. “ But I won’t leave him and Ron won’t leave him.”

Snape stared at her, his expression one of confusion, “You know it for a fact that I would abandon him? I am here Miss Granger because I have not broken my promise to Lily Potter. You have no idea what I will do or what I intend to do.”

“You blame Harry because his mother sacrificed her own life to provide him protection. You were willing to risk an infant’s life, hoping that the rebounding curse would kill Voldemort!”

Snape pushed back in his chair, his face contorted and Harry could read pain there. “I was too late,” he whispered.

“What?” Hermione hissed, too furious to hear.

“I was too late to save them!” Snape choked. “I would never have broken a promise to Lily. I would never have let her die or her child. But I was too late. There were two boys…two infants born. He…Voldemort sent me to the Longbottoms. I stopped Malfoy from killing Neville Longbottom but I couldn‘t reach the Potters in time. I got there just before Black arrived. I knew Voldemort was going there, Peabody told me.” He stopped realizing who he was talking to and Harry saw him close his eyes.

“Who told Voldemort the prophecy? Harry said you overheard it but you didn’t tell him,” Hermione asked.

Snape tapped his fingers against the table and remained silent.

Hermione‘s face froze in horror as she thought over the information. “So Sirius thought you watched Lily and James Potter die and did nothing to prevent it. He thought you were there to help Voldemort instead of to save the Potters.”

She shook her head in confusion and said quietly, “He was blamed for Pettigrew’s death and imprisoned. You let him stay in Azkaban for all of those years!” She stopped and cried out, “ Did you know that Sirius didn’t kill Pettigrew?” She studied his face and he stared back almost in a trance. “ No, it wasn’t you. You didn’t, but someone did.” There was silence and Harry held his breath out of fear that he wouldn’t be able to hear. “Dumbledore knew. He knew Peter Pettigrew didn’t die.” Hermione’s voice echoed in the room. “The price Sirius paid was to be imprisoned. Peter knew what happened and you had to find him. But he was Ron’s rat and you couldn’t find him.”

She continued as if reading from a book, “Sirius hated you because he thought you helped Voldemort kill his best friends and because he thought you knew that he had not killed Peter and wouldn‘t reveal the truth at his trial. Why did you want the Dementors to give him the kiss?” she asked in disgust. Snape continued to stay silent and she stood watching him. “You thought he really did kill Peter and…and,” she stopped and chewed her lip.

The silence seemed to swallow the very air that Harry breathed. He felt tempted to step forward and then he heard the words, “He loved Lily Potter, too. She was more than just a friend to him, wasn‘t she? …and… he was also too late,” she said it with finality. “ You blamed him as much as you blamed yourself; you hated him… as much as you hate yourself.”

“Lily loved one person,” Snape managed. “She loved James Potter.”

Hermione was nodding. “I wish I could have known her.” Her jaw tightened as she gathered herself together. “Nevertheless, no one will know what happened between us, except you and me,” she said gently. “And I think we will not discuss the other with Harry. Sirius is gone now.”

Snape nodded and just as he did it Hermione pulled her arm back and slapped him with all the strength she could muster. He reared up out of the chair and grabbed her hand as quickly as a snake striking.

“You deserved that,” she said, simply. ”You’ve deserved it for a long time.”

He towered over her and Harry was withdrawing his wand and creeping towards the door, ready in an instant to stop Snape from striking back.

Instead, the man let her go and a curious smile played at his lips. She glared at him as if daring him to make a move. “Quite the little vixen aren’t you Miss Granger?” Snape said and stepped away, turning his back to her. Harry saw the familiar stiffening of his back. He spoke with out looking at her. “Very well, we will do these lessons in private away from Potter and the others. I will arrange for a proper setting.”

Harry knew that he would be seen and he slipped back through the halls until he could turn around and make more noise as he entered the study. When he did, Blackmoore was serving Snape coffee and Hermione was entering the room behind him as if she had not been there minutes before.

“Hello, Harry, up bright and early,” she said and hugged him.

“Where’s Ron?” he asked, sitting down at the table with Snape. He shot a glance at him. Other than being slightly more pale than usual Snape had composed his face and was now sipping his coffee and looking anywhere but in Hermione’s direction.

“Oh, he’s still asleep,” she answered, reading the Daily Prophet. “Actually, Harry I like your bed better than mine. I think Ron thought so to.”

Harry swallowed a mouthful of scalding coffee and felt tears come to his eyes. They were worth it for the expression he saw on Snape’s face.

Chapter Fifteen Harry’s Surprise

Harry was just finishing his breakfast when Hannah came in. She was wearing subdued, Romani clothing; a long skirt touching her sandaled feet, a loose white peasant blouse, her hair caught in a yellow and blue scarf and her jewelry. Harry knew that the Romani usually wore the sum total of their wealth on their persons in the form of gold. It was a means of transporting it if they were on the move. He noticed that she looked nervous but she smiled at Severus and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “Good Morning, mi dihiba (my love). When you have finished with your breakfast we need to talk.”

Hannah glanced around the table and said good morning to Peabody who was, as always, wrapped up in his paper. She noticed Hermione and gave her a hug, “Harry has told me about you. He was right, you are a pretty girl.” They smiled at each other and Harry knew they would be fast friends. She noticed Ron who was giving her his customary good-natured smile. “Ohhh, a redhead!” she said, gleefully. “It is a good omen to have a friend who has red hair. You must be Ron.” She touched his cheek tenderly and ran her hand through his hair and gave it a tug. He smiled wider and blushed.

“Do you have to put your hands on every male you come in contact with?” Snape snarled at her. “For goodness sakes, Hannah!” He was up and out of his chair and had grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her away.

Harry reached for his wand and Hermione was standing glowering at Snape. Ron cowered back and Peabody had dropped his paper and was staring at Snape over his pince-nez.

Hannah retaliated by yanking away and shouting in Romani. Harry caught half of what she was saying; it was apparent she was capable of handling Snape on her own. “I will do as I please,” she shouted. “I choose to be with you, but you are too jealous.” Harry heard something about, ’children’ and ’little boys’ to which he frowned and stood up and walked to the bookcases.

Snape sat back down and ignored her after making a comment in Romani. Harry knew that Snape had been shaken by his earlier conversation with Hermione and was having a lover’s fight because of ill temper.

Harry wasn’t interested in listening. Instead, he nodded to Hermione who joined him at the library table situated in the corner. Together they reconstructed the chessboard and talked quietly as they moved the pieces around. They were attempting to determine if the plan would work and were manipulating the pieces.

Ron was being entertained by Peabody with Quidditch stories and Hannah had disengaged and wandered around the room ignoring Snape.

“Harry, maybe it’s just not worth trying to set up a plan. If Voldemort’s a forecaster he’s probably way ahead of us and can out think any thing we do. Maybe you should just find a place and hide.” Hermione studied the pieces on the board. Harry was realizing that she had learned how to think through the sequences of events that it took to make the calculations to forecast. She was actually getting better than him, he thought.

“There’s nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide, Hermione. I can only go so long before someone will see through this disguise. Voldemort has spies all over. I’m not as good as Peabody at this,“ he waved to the board, “but I think he’s very nearby. If you’re right, he’ll be waiting for the opportunity when I am at the train station on my way to Hogwarts. I’d be at my most vulnerable there. He still doesn’t know all of the prophecy, but Snape thinks that he knows enough now to make an all-out effort to catch me or…or kill me. He’ll expect me to have an escort.”

Hermione nodded and moved the white pieces of the board around the King, which Harry had signified as himself. She manipulated and then mumbled to herself and then made more moves.

She finally stopped and looked up at him and said, “Perhaps we should ask Peabody. The truth is Harry, if Voldemort is a Forecaster, probably the only one better than him at it, is the one who taught him.”

Harry glanced over and saw Peabody talking to Snape. “Not just yet Hermione. We haven’t run out of moves. But we can get Ron over here. He really does know chess better than I do and game playing is what it’s about, don’t you think. Who makes the right move at the right time?” She agreed and Ron joined them.

An hour later, Harry and Ron were studying the board and Hermione was on the sofa talking to Hannah. It seemed to Harry that they were getting along very well and he saw that Hermione was finally smiling for the first time in a week. He could overhear snatches of their conversation and it drew his attention away from the chess pieces.

“I would love to hear more about the Romani people,” Hermione was saying. “I know so very little about them. I know that they were the first people to have magic. That was probably over a thousand years ago.”

Hannah laughed, “I’m sure it was a long time ago. But our magic is not like yours, Hermione. We do not use wands, or summon magic to us. We do not command it. I do not need a special word to cast an incantation. Watch, I will show you.” Hannah looked at Ron and grinned, winking at Hermione.

Ron was busy looking at the chest pieces and not paying attention. He was suddenly lifted, chair and all into the air.

“Agh!” he screamed, swinging wildly out of balance. Hannah laughed and lowered him to the floor. Harry was laughing and Hermione was giggling along with him. Harry glanced at Peabody who was sitting in his favorite chair, smoking a pipe and reading. He was also looking up and smiling.

“Merlin’s beard!” Snape shouted. “Hannah, leave that boy alone!”

She looked over her creamy brown shoulder and glared at him. “What has gotten into you?” She asked, standing and wandering over to him. Harry was reminded of the same posture Hermione had taken hours before and Snape must have remembered as well. He stood as she drew close.

“Why aren’t you at the shop?” he countered. “Radu will be by to ask for information about Malfoy. You need to be there to tell him what needs to be done.”

She pouted and closed on him, running her hands up his chest and quickly looking over to Hermione and smiling. She turned back to him and cooed, “I enjoy being here with you and your friends. Besides, we must talk; about something important.”

He stared down at her, her face an inch from his own. Harry grinned and turned back to the chessboard. He loved watching Hannah tease the stalwart Potion’s Master. Hermione joined him and whispered, “Did you ever believe you’d live to see it?”

Harry chuckled, “No. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

Ron was watching them from his viewpoint and was shaking his head. “Maybe not. She just took off.”

Harry whipped his head around and saw Hannah disappear out of the door just as Blackmoore was coming in to set the table for lunch. Snape’s face wore an ugly expression and Harry was just in time to see it turned on him.

“What are you looking at Potter? You three?” he growled. It was as if they were in the dungeons and he was staring at them from his pulpit-like platform at the head of the class.

Harry was immediately angry. He hadn’t had the chance to digest what he’d overheard earlier in the day and Snape was being nasty. He was rising from his chair to face him when he heard Hermione gasp.

“Oh, no!” she reached over and touched a piece on the board. Ron had been toying with the positions of the chessmen while Harry wasn’t paying attention and he had moved one.


Hermione saw the juxtaposition and was now seeing the potential sequence of events that the pieces represented. “Severus, go! Go now! Voldemort’s spies- they saw Hannah come in here. They‘re going to try and catch her and find out where Malfoy is!”

Snape looked at her then at Peabody who was nodding very slowly.

“Yes, yes it is likely,” Peabody said.

Snape shouted at Hermione, “You and Potter take the front door. Weasley, you follow me to the door to Knockturn Alley. Don’t let anyone in. If they try, then kill them or do the best you can to stop them!” He turned and sped from the room with Ron fast on his heels. “Rolly go find Blackmoore. We need his help.” Snape was shouting as he flew down the hall.

Harry had his wand out and was on his way to the front door. “Hermione, go with Ron. I’ll be all right by myself. If Severus comes back, come tell me soon as possible.” He swerved around a corner and skidded on the polished floor all the way to the front door.

Listening with his ear to the door, he heard nothing, but the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t want to take the charm off the door and peek out for fear that someone would be on the other side. He was half thinking of Hannah and half thinking of what lie on the other side of his door. He wondered if Ron and Hermione could handle a Death Eater if they managed to get in. He had watched them fight a half-dozen Death eaters at the Department of Mysteries only two months before. The memory brought back the feeling of guilt. Both of them had been seriously hurt.

The clock on the wall ticked more slowly and he was propped up against the back wall behind the door in case it opened and someone came in. He was thinking about how Voldemort must have sent someone to Hannah’s shop. That was the last place Draco and Lucius had been before Lucius disappeared. He shook his head in anger. I should have seen it! he screamed at himself. A dull ache settled in his chest at the thought that Hannah might have been abducted.

When he heard noises coming from the middle of the loft, muffled by the walls and carpets, he felt a twinge of fear. So soon? Did someone get in? Who’s there? He questioned the sounds and wanted desperately to leave his post and find out. But it didn’t make sense to leave the door unattended, he decided. If everything was all right they’d come for him.

Hermione came running around the edge of the hallway and skidded into him. “He got there in time. Hannah’s hurt.”

“Is it safe to leave the door?” Harry asked, anxious to be there in person.

She nodded, “It’s okay. Peabody says Blackmoore will take care of it. Snape brought her in a minute ago and they’re in the library.”

Just as she said it they both heard a loud thud on the other side of the door. With wands pointed, Harry removed the charm and turned the knob.

“Ready?” he asked Hermione. She nodded. The door opened and revealed the landing to the stairs. Standing looking at them was Blackmoore. At his feet were two Death Eaters, Avery and another, unfamiliar to Harry. They were just in time to see the vampire’s three inch fangs withdrawn and Blackmoore very tidily dab at his lips with a white handkerchief.

He looked at them as if he were performing a household task, “I shall remove this mess Master Potter and Miss Granger and be in in a moment. Please inform Master Snape that I have taken care of the other matter and you shouldn’t be disturbed again.”

“Very well, Blackmoore,” Harry whispered, stunned. He closed the door and looked at Hermione.

“Handy household servant, isn’t he,” Hermione said.

They dashed through the labyrinth of hallways to the study. Snape was leaning over Hannah administering a potion to her. She was pale and in pain, Harry could tell. He stepped over and saw that she was coherent. Snape was barely containing his anxiety.

“Hannah, Hannah, drink this,” he said softly rummaging through a black bag that he carried and pulling out a potion. “It will help with the pain. I’m taking you to the hospital.” He helped her sip the green liquid.


She stopped his hand, “No hospital,” she said, her speech labored. “Fetch Bird, he will know what to do.” She groaned and fell silent, unconscious.

Peabody stepped into the room.

“Rolly send for Bird. Tell Radu that we need him,” Snape covered her and grasped her limp hand; still kneeling at her side on his knees. The little man turned quickly and disappeared.

Hermione knelt next to Snape, “Will she be alright?” she asked, her brow wrinkled in worry.

Harry and Ron stood nearby. Snape’s head barely moved but it was a nod. Hermione took a deep breath and stood to find a chair. Harry and Ron followed suit.

An hour later, they heard a noise in the hall. Peabody entered, stepping in front of the man that followed. Harry could tell the man was Romani. He was dressed in almost the same attire that Harry wore, except that he was older, a man in his thirties with great soft flashing black eyes. His hair was long and tied back with a length of rawhide and when he entered, Harry noticed that he wore a small gold ring in his ear. He was short, but well built, graceful like a dancer and he carried an air about him as if, at another time, he would be great fun to be around.

He knelt beside Snape and questioned him at length in his own tongue. Snape answered.
The man named Bird, reached in his vest and pulled out a small bundle, tied with a string around his neck. “I can help her,” he said in English.

Snape rocked back on his feet and stood like a large black scarecrow hanging it’s head over a cornfield. Harry heaved a sigh of relief. It had been only two months since Hermione and Ron had been hurt and Sirius had died. He didn’t think he could stand it if Hannah were to die. He knew that he put people in harm’s way if they helped him or were even near him. He didn’t think he was ready for it to happen again, especially not to Hannah.

The man called Bird spoke as he worked, “She has been badly injured. But Romani are tough and our Hannah is very tough.” The dark eyes flashed over at Harry and he saw the recognition in the man’s face. “Yes, she will sleep through the night and she will not feel well but she will rise in the morning.” He smoothed her wavy hair back from her face and leaned to kiss her on the cheek. He then spoke to Snape in Romani and stood. Harry understood what he was saying. “Don’t move her yet. Then we will talk about taking her home.”

Snape answered, “Her home is with me, Bird.”

The man smiled and Harry noticed his perfectly straight white teeth. He was a very attractive man and was more so with the winsome smile. “Ah my friend, she is among Gadje. Even you cannot say that you are not Gadje. She will feel better if she were with her family.”

Snape frowned, “She will stay with me.” He was speaking in English and standing tall over the little gypsy man.

“Very well,” Bird said, “very well. We shall see. Until the morning then you should give her this in a tea every few hours. Wake her to do it.” He handed Snape the bag and stepped back to look around the room. “Ah Peabody, it has been along time!”

The others watched Snape carry her to one of the bedrooms and it left a silence.

“Come let us get acquainted,” Bird said. He dropped into a chair and produced and arrowroot cigar, long and black, which he stuck between his teeth like a cigarette. Blackmoore lit it with the tip of a candle. No one had seen the vampire enter the room. Harry was the first to stand and approach. He was still looking at Blackmoore and remembering the very white, very sharp fangs that barely protruded now from his lips.

“Hello,” Harry said, holding out a hand. “Lachshi ti yavin (good morning),” he said in Romani. “Thank you for caring for Hannah.”

Bird smiled and flashed his brilliant white teeth at them. “Harry Potter? It’s my fortune to meet you… and your friends.” The black eyes narrowed and skimmed over Ron to rest on Hermione. Harry saw her blush.

“Yes, these are my friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Gran…ger,” Harry had barely gotten the words out before the man was up and over to Hermione.

He shook hands with Ron but kept his eyes on her. With the grace of a practiced womanizer he lifted her hand and held it to his chest. “Such a beauty,” he said, his lips brushing her cheek. Harry smiled as he watched Ron. He sat down in a chair relieved for the moment that they were safe and everyone was distracted from the danger they had all faced. Peabody returned to his customary chair but was not reading. He was staring at what was taking place in the room.

Harry turned to him, “Peabody?’

The gray eyes wandered over to him. Harry could see the familiar calculations taking place behind them.

“Yes, Harry,” he answered.

“Why didn’t you see this?” he asked. Everyone in the room quieted and listened.

“I did,” Peabody answered blushing red.

“How can you stand it?” Harry asked, leaning in. “I thought we were friends. If not us, then Hannah and Snape. How can you know what is going to happen and say or do nothing?”

“I cannot, Harry. If I took an action to intervene every time something happened I would soon be overwhelmed. And every action I took would change the next and the next. Sometimes it’s not wise to interfere in the course of events.”

“What good is it then,” Harry asked sincerely, without condemnation. “If you don’t use it to save your friends, to even keep safe yourself, what good is it? How can you live with the guilt of doing nothing?”

“I will answer your question with one of my own Harry,” he said quietly. “If you have known that going to the Department of Mysteries would result in the death of your godfather Sirius, would you have gone?”

Harry frowned, feeling himself grow angry. The subject had not come up again since their talk weeks before. “No, I wouldn’t have gone. He would have been safe at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ron.. Ginny and Neville… no one would have gotten hurt.”

“And Voldemort would have found a way to lure you there and kill you, or abduct you and get the prophecy and then kill you. There were people from the Order of the Phoenix risking their lives to protect the prophecy, Arthur Weasley for one,” Peabody looked up at Ron and Harry shot a look over to see his friend blanch. Ron had already had his father injured and his brother killed.

Peabody continued, “Harry this is all about you. Voldemort intends to take over the wizarding world and rule it with a dark heart. We have one weapon, which is you. We cannot lose you.”

“Even if others are killed?” Harry was on his feet and the full weight of guilt and responsibility was laying heavily on him. “Is that why you saved me? After all the years of doing nothing, you step in and change events just to save me?!”

“This time I will not leave it up to Dumbledore to keep you alive. And yes, that is why I have acted. All I can do is wait for my actions to be played out in the events it has produced. What Severus could not tell you was that I was the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy. I did it so that more lives would not be taken in the attempt to protect it.” Peabody nodded as he heard the gasps in the room. “Yes, sometimes I act. I knew that it would take his eyes from there and make Harry the direct target.” He shifted uneasily in his chair and looked again across the table at Harry. “I also know that you now have a better chance to kill Voldemort then you did three months ago when you felt like his victim. You have a reason to kill him that wasn‘t there before. He’s coming after you.”

“You don’t think I have a reason?” Harry groaned angrily. “A classmate was killed by him; Cedric Diggory. He’s hurt my friends and killed my godfather. He killed my parents!”

Peabody nodded, “Yes. But you were a helpless child. You didn’t know about the prophecy; didn’t know you were destined to confront and kill or be killed. Now you are a warrior. You may lose those people who fight by your side, but you now have something more to fight for. If you fail there will be a killing field such has not been seen in centuries. You’re leading an army of people whether you know it or not, Harry. Hannah, Severus and many others are putting their lives on the line for you; ready to stand beside you.” He got shakily to his feet and squared his shoulders. “Whether you are sixteen or sixty Harry, you are the general in this war that is about to start. It’s time you start acting like a man instead of whimpering like a child. People will die in this war and it will not be your fault. You didn‘t create the problem but you can solve it.” He turned to leave the room. “We depend on you.”

Harry sat back and spoke to his back, “What good is it to know the future when you can’t control it?”

Peabody looked back at him, “I have thought about this each and every day of my life Harry. There was one time that I took an action, knowing what was to happen. Knowing what would happen if I failed… well, I did fail didn’t I?’ His gray eyes studied Harry with a sudden intensity. “I haven’t tried again until now. I let these walls become my prison, afraid to go beyond them out of fear that even the simplest of movements would create waves of repercussions. This time I am not going to fail. There will be no messenger; I am not going to trust in another. This time there isn’t going to be anybody to stand between me and the person who murdered my daughter. Voldemort is not going to kill my grandson.” His mouth turned up into a tiny smile. “He’ll have to kill me first.” The little man left the room in stunned silence.

****My apologies to those who are anxiously awaiting the next chapters. They have been uploaded but are not yet posted by admin. if you wish to read this complete story, goto- www.fanfiction.net or www.harrypotterfanfiction.com. Thank you Natasha

Chapter Sixteen Peabody’s Story


“Did he say what I think he said?” Ron asked, dumbfounded.

Bird was sitting on the couch, his head thrown back, hat over his eyes and the smoke curling from under it. “I am going to rest. Let me know when there is food to eat,” he said with a mild, nasal, Hungarian accent.

Hermione was seated at the table studying the chessmen with such intensity Harry thought she had not heard Peabody. “’Mione, did you hear what he said,” he asked.

She looked up glassy-eyed as if her mind was in two different places. “Yes, Harry. He said he was your grandfather, your mother’s father.”

Harry looked back at the doorway where the man had disappeared and started towards it.

“Don’t, Harry,” Hermione cautioned, “I know you want answers, but…”

He turned on her, “But what, ‘Mione? He’s my grandfather! Where was he all those years? Why haven’t I ever seen him?”

“You know the answers,” she said pleading with her eyes. “He was responsible for not saving your mother. He’s been afraid and he’s been hiding here. Harry…”

“What?!” he was angry. She was beside him in a minute.

“He’s right. No matter how bad things turned out and how many people were involved, it’s done. We’ve got really important things to think about now. You are the one that Voldemort’s after. You are the only one supposedly who can kill him. None of us can afford to have you thinking about something else. We ARE depending on you. There’s only so much we can do and very little time to do it.” Harry looked into her face and saw determination and something else; a growing, budding maturity. Hermione wasn’t a girl anymore. He saw what Snape must have seen that morning, he saw a woman. “And I for one will not let you stand alone,” she said warmly.

“That goes for me too, mate.” Ron stood with them. The moment was shattered by snoring. They looked over to see Bird fast asleep.
----------------

Dinner was a subdued affair. Peabody sat at his customary place at the table. Snape was in residence but not in the study. In his place, Blackmoore seated Bird who was busy playing with his white napkin and amusing himself.

“Why do they call you Bird?” Ron asked chewing on a piece of chicken, fascinated by the man.

“Well, lad,” Bird began. He stopped folding the napkin into animal shapes and leaned over. “My name is a Gadje name. I was born of a Gadje woman and a gypsy man. My mother called me Canary because she liked the sound of birds and their color. So I am Vashengo Patsu Canary Vleshka.” He grinned and looked over at Hermione who once again blushed. “Vashengo means ’man of the forest’ in our language. People just call me Bird.”

Harry watched her. He noticed that instead of the typical blouse and blue jeans Hermione was wearing witch’s clothing including a very pretty burgundy gown that dropped to the floor. Her hair was pulled back and she wore a tiny gold and blue-beaded necklace.

“What does Gadje mean?” Hermione asked eating very slowly and to Harry’s amusement, very properly.

The man smiled broadly, “It is a name we Roma give those who are not Roma. But tonight we are all brothers and sisters. Tonight you are a Romni, a gypsy woman.” He lifted his glass of wine and raised it to her and then tilted back his head and drank it one swallow. He sat the glass down and said, “And all gypsy women are beautiful.”

Harry watched the flirtation for awhile and then his mind slipped back to the food on his plate and the man sitting across from him. He took a few seconds now and again through the meal to explore the features of the man.

This is my grandfather. The father to my mother and to Aunt Petunia! He digested that for awhile and then continued to muse about the man. He had lived for sixteen years and had no hint that his grandparents remained alive. No one not even Dumbledore had told him. Harry wondered if anyone knew about it until that very afternoon.

After supper Harry left everyone in the study and found the bedroom where Snape was sitting beside a bed next to Hannah. She was laying against the embroidered pillowcase, her hair splayed out darkly against it. Snape was asleep in a chair inches from her side.

When he stepped in the Potion’s Master woke but didn’t speak.

“Is she doing better?” Harry asked quietly.

Snape nodded.

“I think she came to you this morning to talk to you about the plan we are developing,” Harry sat in a chair nearby and leaned over his knees to clasp his hands together. He watched her instead of looking at Snape. “Vol…the Dark Lord is going to be focusing on getting me at the train station or somewhere along the route. He knows that he has to do something before I reach Hogwarts and he’s trusting that I will return there.” He gathered his thoughts and proceeded. “He now knows where I am but I don’t think he’s found Malfoy. So we have a route that I will follow and will most assuredly follow it too.”

Snape nodded again and glanced over at Hannah who remained asleep. He placed his hand on hers and then turned back to Harry.

Harry continued, “There are some things I need to know so that Peabody and I can make the calculations. So that nobody…risks getting hurt.” Harry dropped his head and studied his hands.

“Potter, we are all at risk for getting hurt and even dying,” Snape’s deep baritone filled the room. Hannah twisted her head and moaned as if hearing his voice calling to her.

“Severus” she mumbled.

“Sov (sleep), Hannah,” he whispered. Harry had never seen such tenderness in his teacher. The man was transformed in front of this woman. “Let’s go into the hall where we can speak,” he whispered.

Once in the hall they sat in two stiff silk-covered chairs and shared a table between them. Snape took out his wand and whirled it in the air to produce a tea set. He raised an eyebrow to Harry as if inquiring whether he wanted a cup. Harry nodded.

“Professor, can we talk civilly to one another for the next hour. I promise to keep my arrogant attitude to a minimum if you keep your sarcasm to a minimum. The truth is I’m too tired to care what you think about me.”

“It seems that we are in this together, Potter,” he answered. “Proceed with your questions.”

“Can you manipulate Lucius Malfoy with the Imperious Curse?” Harry began.

Snape thought about it. “Not well. He will shake it off very quickly, but he can be controlled for short periods of time.”

“Then we’ll need to sedate him. I imagine that’s what you’re doing now?’ Harry said thoughtfully. ‘The hidden door in Hannah’s bathroom, it leads to muggle London. From there you apparate to # 12 Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore is secret-keeper for the Order so how does Kreacher go back and forth with the stuff from Sirius’ house… from the Black Mansion.”

Snape looked at him and answered quietly, “So you know about it. I was keeping Malfoy occupied. Kreacher no longer has any living Black except Narcissa Malfoy and Tonks. He wouldn’t obey Tonks but was very eager to be released to the Malfoy family. Since the Order no longer meets at the Mansion there was no reason for Albus to be secret-keeper any longer.”

“If we needed to use the Mansion as a diversion, then we could let it slip to Kreacher that I would be there at a certain time. He would still be under the impression that it was our hiding place since I was there last year?” Harry asked. “That I would feel safe there?”

Snape’s eyes widened marginally and he nodded again. “Yes, I have protected that very carefully. I and a few others meet there occasionally so that Kreacher can report it to Malfoy.”

“Have you been exposed then?” Harry asked. “Does the Dark Lord know that you are spying on him?”

“No, Potter,” Snape shook his head slowly. “He is aware that I meet there with the Order. But he believes I am spying for him. He summons me and I present a plausible story of what the Order is doing.”

Harry sat back and shook his head. He was beginning to realize just how courageous the man before him really was. He knew because he had been in front of Voldemort himself and had suffered at his hands. “Have you… been forced to disclose who the members of the Order are?”

Snape sipped at his tea facing forward. Harry couldn’t read his face, but thought that it was time he needed to trust the man.

“I have told him the names of the people he already knew were part of the Order. Those people have been safely removed to places of hiding. Mr. Weasley’s family are an example.”

“Professor…” Harry began.

“We are not presently in school Mr. Potter. You may call me Mr. Snape or Severus whichever you prefer,” Snape said quietly.

Harry swallowed and waited a moment. “Mr. Snape, would it be possible to do a little kidnapping of our own without bringing Voldemort down on us before we are ready for him?” Harry saw the man cringe slightly at the Dark Lord’s name but he replied.

“Yes. I’m assuming you mean Pettigrew?” Snape said.

Harry nodded and they looked at each other in silence for a moment. “Dumbledore told me that Pettigrew would be in my debt. I think it’s time to call in the favors,” Harry sat back and studied his feet.

“You must be very careful Mr. Potter…”

“Harry…”

“Harry.” Snape set his cup down. “The Dark Lord keeps him very close. If we take Pettigrew whatever happens after must happen quickly. Do not trust that Pettigrew will not give you up. He is more terrified of the Dark Lord than he is of anything else, including death.” He waited a moment. “Unless you can promise him a fast and easy death. What Voldemort would offer would be prolonged agony if he knew that he had helped you.”

Harry studied a portrait hanging on the wall across from them. What you’re telling me Snape is that if Voldemort catches you helping me he’s going to hurt you really badly, he thought. “If anyone is caught, we need to agree that we will kill them before Voldemort has a chance at them,” Harry said, quietly. “That includes me. Agreed?”

Snape looked over at him. Their eyes met and there was an unspoken agreement.

They sat in silence and Harry picked up his cup. “Another thing. We need Hannah.” Harry sipped the cold liquid hardly aware of the taste or temperature.” He heard the intake of breath and a sudden stirring on the other’s part.

“I need to be nearby,” Snape said.

“Well Severus,” Harry sat the cup down and squirmed around so that he could look him directly in the face. “I know your not going to like this next bit, but how would you feel about having red hair and freckles and being sixteen again?”

------------------------------

Later that night, Harry pulled a chair to the window and once again stared out at the darkened street; Diagon Alley. He was thinking over their plan, actually their two plans and a backup emergency plan. He no longer needed the chess set to focus his calculations.

He decided that in the morning he would have to meet with Peabody and go over it all.

Peabody, he thought, my grandfather. Harry wasn’t sure whether to be angry or pity the man. He’d been in his presence, in his home long enough to know something about him. He also knew something about feeling guilty. It had been Harry’s mother that had been forsaken, but it had been her own father who had failed in saving her.

Harry couldn’t bring himself to hate the man. And, he’s doing something now, Harry said to himself.

With his eyes open Harry could envision the moment when he was in the hallway at the Department of Ministries and Dumbledore was firing curses at Voldemort and the evil man was firing them back in rapid succession. Bellatrix was groveling somewhere and then she was gone. Harry thought about it. “I couldn’t do what Dumbledore did,” he said aloud. “He’ll kill me…” He was holding his wand and pointing it to buildings opposite the window. He knew that he couldn’t even use his own wand. “and I won’t have a chance.”

“That’s not true Harry,” a voice spoke behind him. It was Peabody. Harry didn’t turn around.

“Yes it is,” he said. “I’ve seen him and I don’t have any skills that compare. Dumbledore was able to keep him away, but only just…”

“Harry,” Peabody sat down beside him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked stonily. “I lived with Aunt Petunia all those years. Do you know how she treated me? Do you know how miserable my life has been?”

“Well Harry, if Petunia is anything like your grandmother I guess I can imagine it,” Peabody answered.

Harry twisted around to look at him, angry that he was amused.

The man sat quietly and stared out at the buildings of the city. “I don’t really know Petunia at all. Her mother took the girls away from me when she found out that I was a wizard. Add to it the fact that I was also a Forecaster. She couldn’t abide magic in any form and divorced me, taking them away and remarrying. She died with her husband in a car accident.”

“A car accident!” Harry growled. That had been the story told to him by his aunt about his own parents.

“Yes.” Peabody went on. “Petunia was cared for by Agatha’s sister until she died and then Petunia was old enough to marry. Agatha was your grandmother’s name.”

Harry listened in spite of himself.

“Lily, on the other hand, took after me. She showed magic capabilities when she was about two. Agatha couldn’t stand it. She punished her and I couldn’t stop her.” Peabody closed his eyes. “But your mother was a resilient child. As soon as the letter came from Hogwarts I got her away from her mother. I started teaching at Hogwarts so that I could parent her, raise her and she wouldn’t have to go back to her mothers‘. We kept it a secret of course. Agatha was a formidable lady as a muggle. She was the one that attempted, time and again, to expose the wizarding world to muggle authorities. It was her attempt to find Lily and get her back. It is something we risk if we intermarry.”

Harry thought about it. “They would have thought she was mental.”

Peabody nodded. “Oh they did. “Course I always favored Lily, she was such a sweet and wonderful child. Petunia was prickly like a thorn; like her mother. I don’t know what life was like for her, but I think that she probably was embarrassed by Agatha’s attempts to hurt me; her vitriolic temperament. You have to understand that Agatha didn’t want Lily, because she was her daughter. No, she wanted her to hurt me. I would not be surprised that when Dumbledore took you to Petunia, that she had a lot of resentment towards you.”

Harry swallowed with difficulty, feeling the tightness there. “Didn’t you ever see your daughter…see Aunt Petunia after your wife left you?” he asked.

The old man shrugged and shook his head. “Once. You were still very young, not more than two years old. I wanted to see if you were like your mother. I wanted to see if there was any magic in you.” He reached over and touched Harry’s chair. “That’s not true. I knew you did. I wanted to see you, Lily’s son.” Harry watched him bend over and break into sobs.

He felt himself reaching over to comfort the man but held his hands away. “Why…why didn’t you take me? Why didn’t you send word to me? Let me know that you lived?”

Peabody shook himself and pulled back. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t. I was afraid. I was responsible for your not having a mother in the first place. I was a…broken man.” He stared out and there was a long silence. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, Harry. I deserve none. There is nothing that I have done that I can be proud of. I only ask that you give me a chance to right this one wrong. I know of your plan, I have foreseen it. All I ask is that we make one small change.”

Harry frowned. What change, he thought. Then he knew and his eyes widened in horror.
“No, no I won’t let you!”

Peabody’s white gauzy hair shown in the sudden light of the moon as it sailed into view.
Harry could see the face of his grandfather soften and the smile that crept to his lips.

“Rolly, you might as well put a knife in my heart. We have a way to do this without sacrificing anyone. What good would it do for you to die? What would I have left?” Harry was on his knees in front of the man. “I’ve lived all these years with people that hate me. I’ve searched for someone, anyone that care…cared about me. I’d sell my freedom for a brass knut just to know that that person is in the world, even if I never saw them again. You can’t tell me that you’re my grandfather and then take that away from me!” It was Harry’s turn to feel the tears spring to his eyes.

“Alright, alright boy,” Peabody raised a veined hand and patted Harry on the shoulder. “Alright. Let’s talk about your plan. If I can’t be the decoy, who will you use?”

Chapter Seventeen the Plan

Harry met Hannah the next morning in the hallway they shared. She was dressed and looking wan. Severus was not in sight and Harry hurried to walk beside her.

“Are you sure you should be up?” he asked.

She smiled. “I am fine, Harry.”

“Where’s Severus?”

“He has gone,” she answered and then reading his thoughts said, “He is teaching Hermione and does not want others to know. There are only a few days left Chavo and there is much to do. He tells me he knows of the plan. So I have to get back to my shop and gather things there.”

“You have to be careful Hannah,” Harry said walking with her. “They know where you are and they tried once. They’ll come back.”

“It was foolish of me not to be prepared,” she said shaking her head. She was still dressed in her rose-colored silk robe and slippers. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her, both because of her appearance and his worry. She smiled and pulled him close with her arm. “You are such a sweet boy to think of me as beautiful when I am just out of the bed.”

Harry bit his tongue so that he could draw his attention away and toward others things. He found that he often forgot for long periods of time that Hannah could read him. They approached the study and heard voices. This time Harry knew the voice, knew it by heart. He held Hannah back and whispered to her. “Hannah. Do something for me. Whatever you learn from the person in there with Peabody you need to tell me. I want you to listen to his thoughts. Will you?”

She nodded and they slipped up to the study door. For the second time since arriving at Peabody’s home, Harry was eavesdropping on a private conversation. This time it was between Dumbledore and Peabody.

“Rolly, it really is unlike you…” Dumbledore was saying. He sounded surprised.

“What is unlike me Albus?” Rolly was at his seat at the table and Dumbledore was standing before him. “To protect him. To do what I can and not wait for someone else to do it for me? I tell you this Albus, he will not fail. I will make sure of it.”

“I’m only asking that we work to put this off for awhile. We need to let him grow up a little,” Dumbledore was speaking gently.

“He doesn’t have the time to grow up. He’s seen more and experienced more than most men and I don’t think Riddle is going to give him much time. How many people are you willing to sacrifice while we wait.”

“Rolly, I love Harry as much as you do,” Albus began calmly. “We are on the same side.”

“You want to keep him all to yourself,” Peabody said coldly. “You’ve cultivated him like a crop.”

“You never stepped forward to claim your rights as a grandfather. Are you blaming me for that?” Dumbledore asked.

“You know that I couldn’t,” he answered. “How many times have I entertained people here in this very room for which the Ministry would have had me permanently imprisoned in Azkaban. That includes Tom Riddle. Harry… my grandson… would have nothing but contempt for me if he were to know.”

“I have protected him all these years, Rolly, but it was not my place to tell him he had a grandfather who could not come to him,” Albus sat down across from Peabody. “And I made a mistake in not telling him about the prophecy, I see that now, but surely you can understand that he would not have been prepared for it? He’s angry with me right now but we can postpone this confrontation and give him more time.”

Peabody glowered at him, “This prophecy! I tell you that all of you are placing too much weight on Trelawney’s prophecy. You’ve set Harry up to be an assassin since the day he was born and what proof is there that he is the only one that can kill Riddle? He has carried the weight of the world on his shoulders long before he even knew it. You were charged with his care Albus, when you knew that I could not be there for him. Where were you when he went to the Ministry. Why didn’t you manage Black better?”

“Rolly,” Albus shook his head slowly. “We are two old men. If we could have kept the bitterness between us away we could have saved many people. Our gifts combined together would have made a difference. I didn’t know how far Harry and his friends would go. Harry has always been desperate to find someone to replace his father and Sirius was such an important person to him that it was not a surprise he went to save him. I did not know that the Occlumency lessons had failed. I didn’t know that Severus had stopped trying.” Albus waved his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. “ We both have failed him Rolly! But if you do this now we will be doing something more than failing him, we will be the cause of his death. I think that we need to set aside our conflict and think this through. We need to find another way.”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do Albus!” Rolly was on his feet and leaning over the table. “I trusted you. You knew what no one else ever knew!”

“If you are talking about Lily and James, then, yes, I knew,” Dumbledore nodded his head. “It has all been a huge calamity. Do you think I have not suffered? But you are pushing Harry with your encouragements into taking action when it will more than likely lead to his end. How can he possibly face Voldemort and win?”

Peabody was standing and visibly shaking but obviously doing everything in his power to stay standing in one place and face Dumbledore. “So if he dies Albus, you can say it was my fault? Just as you did when Lily was killed?”

Dumbledore was on his feet. Harry could almost feel the energy pouring off of him. It reminded him of the day in the Ministry. “I never accused you, Rolly,” he said it softly. “We all failed Lily and James. We made mistakes we shouldn’t have. Sirius felt terribly guilty when I told him that you forecast Peter betrayal. He raced back to the Potters but didn’t get there in time. I sent Severus and he was delayed. I arrive soon after and I was too late. Rolly this is not helping Harry.” His voice almost sounded as if he were pleading. “If I cannot change your mind this time then let me help. Will you tell me what he plans to do?”

Peabody was fighting against Dumbledore’s battle to move on. “I gave Lily the ancient incantation she needed to protect herself and Harry.”

“It was a dark spell, Rolly,” Dumbledore groaned and sat again. “Must we talk about this again? You cannot trust that the dark spells will not have a rebound effect. It would not have protected them. It was supposed to have killed Voldemort, but he was already too steeped in the ways of that kind of magic. I told you it would not work. I am not a Forecaster Rolly, but we both know that in using the Dark Arts there is always a unknown variable; and unknown value that tends to sour the brew.”

“So you took it off of them,” Peabody gulped. “You didn’t trust me.”

Dumbledore nodded, “And replaced it with the Familial Incantation.”

“And your Familial Incantation worked?! Lily died! She sacrificed herself to protect Harry,” Peabody dropped back in his chair. “If you had not interfered she might have lived. Both of them might have lived.”

“Or both of them could have been killed,” Albus said. “We will never know.”

“Oh yes, we will,” Peabody said, glaring steadily at the other man. “I intend to give Harry the Shielding Charm that I gave his mother.”

Dumbledore stared back and said, “Will you also remain in your rooms cowering under your bed like you did last time, while others are out trying to save your family?”

Peabody rose again to his feet. “I was a pathological agoraphobic. I couldn’t leave Hogwarts to go to Lily and you know it. You were the one who found me at the entrance to Hogwarts and took me to St. Mungo’s the day after she died.”

“Yes, Rolly,” Dumbledore said. “I did. Now what must we do. Fly at each other again and again, beating our breasts, mourning over our actions. I failed the Potters and you failed your daughter.” He ran his hand over the polished surface of the table and looked around the room. “That is over and I am sorry for my last remark. But think this through Rolly. Will you risk Harry?”

Peabody sat back and waved a feeble hand towards Dumbledore. “ Albus, I THINK everything through,” he said it with deadly seriousness. “You never trusted me to know what I was doing. Not when I taught at Hogwarts and not after. You think because of this condition I have that I am incapable of using good judgment. You think because I studied the Dark Arts that I depend on them. You didn’t trust me to do the best thing for my own daughter.” He rubbed his stubbly chin and said, “This time you are not involved and I will make sure it stays that way.”

“So you will not tell me what you plan to do?” Albus asked.

Peabody shook his head. “No.”

“Then I must speak to Harry,” Dumbledore said.

Harry pulled Hannah away from the door and down the hall. He reached for the first door knob that he came to and pulled her into the room.

“What was Dumbledore thinking?” Harry asked.

Hannah leaned against the door. “Harry…’ She hesitated.

He knew immediately from the look on her face that she wanted to withhold something from him. “Tell me Hannah. Do it now!”

She frowned and then said, “Dumbledore doesn’t trust Rolly. He thinks he can persuade you to do what he wants. Harry… they both love you. They both think they know what is right. Dumbledore doesn’t trust Rolly and he has a right not to. You heard it for yourself. Rolly has been involved in many things. But he has never hurt anyone, never intentionally sought to gain power. And I know him. He would never hurt you.” She looked at him seriously. “No one is completely responsible for what another will become, Harry. Not even Rolly. This is a fight between two old dogs. You and I know that we must go ahead without them.”

He stepped back into the room, noticing Hermione’s school trunks and her belongings. They had inadvertently stepped into her room.

“Harry,” Hannah took his hand. “Did you know that Albus and Rolly once were the best of friends? What you heard is true. Both of them tried to save your parents and failed. They blame each other, just as you have blamed yourself for Sirius death and for your friends being hurt. All we can do is the best that we can. With luck ,no one will die and it will turn out alright.”

He raised his eyebrow in a characteristic Severus stare and she laughed and hugged him briefly.

“Take heart Chavo,” she smiled. “Let’s go tell them the plan. We have two days.”

He smiled wanly and said, “Find Severus and Hermione.

-------------------------

Harry stood in the study and looked at everyone. They were all there. Snape hovered protectively over Hannah, Albus remained at the table with Peabody and Blackmoore stood as usual in the background. Hermione and Ron were seated in front of him and Bird was behind Hermione. Lupin strolled in at the last minute placing Harry’s Hogwarts trunk on the floor next to him.

“Thanks Remus,” Harry said. He waited and then looked at Hermione feeling nervous in talking to all of them together. “I thought of the idea when I was reading a book in the library here, “he began. “It was Professor Snape’s family history.’ He watched as Snape’s eyebrows went almost to his hairline. He hurried on, “On the cover is the Family Crest. It is a picture of a thorny Rose. The motto is in Latin. I looked it up and reads: With all magic there is both evil and good; the two cannot be parted. That’s not going to make much sense to any of you, yet.” Hermione nodded encouragingly.

“My wand will not work against him and his won’t work against me. He will come for me in person since that is what the prophecy says he must do, whether the prophecy is true or not,” Harry looked at Peabody and then went on. “ He will have to kill me himself. But it doesn’t mean he’ll come alone and not send out an advanced guard. I have faced him five times and he always comes with others around him. We will use that to our advantage. I’m also going to take a page from his book. No one in this room will know the entire plan in case you are caught. You’ll receive your instructions on a minute by minute basis.”

Harry could see the adults in the room shifting uneasily.

Dumbledore nodded, frowning, “Harry I don’t mean to interrupt. But don’t you think it would be wise…”

“No, Albus,” Harry butted in. “Voldemort is after me. If anyone disagrees with my plan then they can excuse themselves. If you all decide not to help me then I will do it alone. But it will get done. I’m not going to wait around for him to pick off my friends one-by-one and kill them or torture them.”

He waited and everyone remained silent. “Very well. Day after tomorrow we are scheduled to board the Hogwarts express. Voldemort will be familiar with the entire route. He will know that I will leave here and go to #12 Grimmauld Place. From there I will go to King’s Cross station, go through the barrier and board the train. Until the train reaches Hogsmeade, I would be vulnerable. There are only three adults that ever typically ride with the students; the engineer, the conductor and the lady who runs the food cart. This time there will be more. Everyone knows that Voldemort is alive and well and will probably be after me.”

Harry moved around the room and continued to talk. “This time Remus and Professor Snape will board with me, Hermione and Ron, as our body guards. Except that you won’t be yourselves. Hermione has been brewing Polyjuice Potion since I sent her a letter back in July. I think it’s ready, right.”

She smiled broadly. “It is.”

“Polyjuice potion?” Snape was on his feet. “Wait a moment. That is a very advanced potion. Where did you find the ingredients and the recipe? How do you know it is viable? You could poison someone.”

“Well, Severus,” Harry turned to him, using his first name on purpose and said, “Hermione has been brewing it since our second year in school. I think she’s proficient enough now to do in her sleep. Isn’t that right, ‘Mione?”

Hermione glanced over at Snape and smiled her brightest smile at him. “Yes, Professor.” She giggled slightly when he sat down and crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them; a very Snape-like posture for him.

“I understand Miss Granger received very high marks in her OWLS in potions, Severus,” Albus said with a wink at her.

“Yes,” he answered in his lowest gravelly voice.

Harry continued to walk and speak, “Professor Snape and Bird will be abducting Peter Pettigrew. We know that he has been going to the Black Mansion to spy along with Kreacher. He goes as a rat.” Harry noticed Ron’s eyes narrow. “ We will keep him only a short time, let him overhear a conversation and then turn him lose to return to Voldemort. That happens tomorrow.”

“The next morning we will all gather at the house. You all are going to take Hermione’s Polyjuice potion. Malfoy will be me, Hannah will be Hermione, and Professor Snape will be Ron. Remus is going to act as your escort when you go to the station and board the train with you. Ron, you will also board the train as Professor Snape. Draco Malfoy will be on board and most likely get in the way as he always does. You and Bird will have to take care of him. Bird will find his way onto the train without being seen.”

Ron’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and he looked at Hermione gleefully. Harry knew what he was thinking. It was his opportunity to deal with Draco Malfoy as Professor Snape. “Looking forward to it, mate,” he said. He looked over at Snape and grinned. It was the first time Harry had ever seen Ron not completely terrified of their Potion’s Master.

Harry nodded. “Hermione and I will remain at Sirius’… at the house, along with Peabody.” He turned to his grandfather. “You have to be there grandfather, do you think you can? If you can’t, we have to do something else.” They looked at each other and the old man stood up and walked over to place his hands on his shoulders.

“I will get there, Harry. Blackmoore got me to your Aunt’s house the first time, he will get me to Grimmauld Place. I will not fail you, boy.” Harry nodded.

“Uhmmm,” Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry noticed.

“Professor Dumbledore…” Harry walked over to him. “The part you will play may be the most important part of all. I want to talk to you private about it.” Their eyes met and the old man nodded. “That will be true for all of you. I will meet with each group and explain further. As I said there will be danger all along the route I described. However, I think that Voldemort will make his move while we are in route to Hogsmeade. There are three of us that have made the calculations and it seems we all agree.”

Harry sat down. “If there are questions, now is the time to ask.”

No one spoke. Harry joined Snape and Bird at the far end of the study and talked quietly with them. They hurried out when he finished.

Blackmoore was serving tea all around and handed a cup to Harry. For the first time Harry reached over and stopped him. Touching the vampire was a little like touching a corpse. He was cold and stiff.

“Blackmoore?” Harry whispered.

“Yes, Master Potter,” the tall and heavyset man leaned slightly.

“I wish to speak to you after everyone leaves. Perhaps this evening,” Harry mumbled. “I don’t want my grandfather to know that I’ve talked to you.”

“AS you wish Master Potter,” the vampire said, straightening and moving on around the room.

Harry walked very slowly over to Dumbledore and sat down.

Chapter Eighteen Harry’s Night Out


“Every way we look at it, I am going to die,” Harry said.

He watched Dumbledore visibly wince at his words. “You do not have to face him now Harry,” he gasped.

They were walking through the hallways and talking as they moved.

“So I wait and he picks off my friends or their families one-by-one, taunting me until I face him!” Harry was standing in the studio alone with Dumbledore. The others were still in the library talking. “I can’t stand it! I can’t do it. I can’t go back to Hogwarts and pretend that everything is ok, then read in the paper about a murder here or there, a family killed, someone tortured into insanity. Unless you can tell me differently, Albus I’m going to follow through with this. I have a chance this way, don’t you see.”

“Then let me stand in for your grandfather,” he said slumping to an empty chair beside Hannah’s nude portrait. “Let me take his place.”

“Are you saying that because you don’t trust him Albus or because you truly want to protect him?” Harry asked.

The old man shook his head and folded his hands in his lap almost in resignation. “Ah Harry, I think you misunderstand me. I don’t hate your grandfather. I have felt sorry for him at times because he has chosen a lifestyle that I don’t believe in. He wanders precariously on the border between doing good and doing evil. He was once a brilliant man and teacher; a good friend.’ Dumbledore stared at the wall as if remembering the time. “He taught the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes and raised his daughter, your mother, free from conflict and disharmony for a long time. But because he was brilliant, he wanted to delve into areas that are dangerous. He had a promising student who was fatherless and deeply desired and found in your grandfather, a mentor. That was Severus. I tried to tell Rolly that Severus was a wounded soul and that teaching him the Dark Arts was like lighting a powder keg.”

Harry leaned against a wall and listened.

“Severus grew close to your grandfather and to your mother.” He scrunched his nose and again shook his head. “The children at school were cruel to Severus. Your father was one of them.”

“Albus if you’re going to tell me that Snape loved my mother, I am aware of it. I’ know why he took the dark mark and how my mother forced him to take an oath to protect me, which made him betray Voldemort. I know all of that. What has this got to do with my trusting Peabody. I know he couldn’t go to my mother himself, I know the story from a dozen points of view. And it doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me you are not putting your life in his hands. That you are not trusting in the dark arts,” Albus said. “Tell me that and I will do what you ask, anything that you ask.”

“Albus, I told you…and the others. The thorny Rose on the Snape Family Coat of Arms, it is like Voldemort and me,” Harry shoved himself away from the wall and walked slowly towards him. “The day he tried to kill me is the day that we became intertwined. You said it yourself, he left more than his mark upon me. Our wands cannot be used against the other. There is a part of him in me, I saw through his eyes and he through mine. You can’t separate the two of us. So I must use dark magic, Albus.” Harry was staring at the portrait of Hannah. He wondered if he would live to find a woman like her. He turned when he heard a stifled groan.

“It’s alright Albus, I know what I’m doing.” Harry turned back to the portrait. “and if I’m right I might…just might, survive.”

------------------------------------

Snape returned in the evening. He sat at the table and sipped a blood-red wine and nodded to Harry, “It is done.”

Harry knew what he was saying. “Bird is watching over him then?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going there this evening,” Harry told them. Hermione, Ron, Snape, Hannah, Remus all stopped eating. Peabody dropped his eating utensils, started trembling and stared at his plate. “Do you think it wise?” he asked.

Harry reached over and stopped his arm from wiggling the table with it’s quaking. “You must trust me.”

“Then tell me what you plan to do so that I can do the Forecast,” he said anxiously.

“No, Rolly,” Harry smiled. “This is one time when you will not forecast these events.” They stared at one another and Harry leaned over and spoke seriously, “We have done all the calculations necessary, Hermione and me. It’ll do.” He patted the man’s arm soothingly.

“At least take Blackmoore with you,” Peabody said twisting to find his servant.

“Rolly,” Harry patted again, “I’m sure I can’t keep him away. He’ll be trailing me across the rooftops I expect, since I never seem to see him move. Now let’s eat supper and talk about something else.”

Harry glanced over at Snape and Hannah. She was leaning into him and Harry felt a twinge of jealousy and loneliness.

“Rolly, Bird will be there,” Hannah said gently. “My brother can handle Peter Pettigrew any day and you know it. Harry has walked the streets alone many times and he will be safe.”

Harry digested the fact that Bird was Hannah’s brother; it didn’t surprise him. The minute she said it, he saw the resemblance.

“If you like Potter I will go with you,” Snape added.

“No, Professor. I don’t want you to be seen in my company,” Harry said shaking his head. “For some reason if we were seen and it got back to the Dark Lord before we are ready, then he could summon you and everything would be ruined. No, it’s best if you don’t.” Harry wasn’t telling any of them that he didn’t want company even though he knew that he was taking a risk. He needed to see Peter Pettigrew without anyone present.

“Harry are you going to go through Hannah’s shop?” Hermione asked. “At least do that. It’s only a short distance from there.”

“No ‘Mione. Professor Snape introduced me to another portal.” Snape studied him with narrowed eyes. “I think it’ll be safe to take that route. Now everyone let’s talk about something else. I want to enjoy my dinner.”

------------------

“Potter,” Snape followed him through the halls to the door leading down and out to Knockturn Alley. Harry had slipped away from the group to spend a few minutes in his room making sure his gypsy disguise was in place. He donned his hat and stepped out. Snape was leaning against the opposite wall waiting for him.

“Yes, Professor,” Harry asked reaching absentmindedly for the glasses that were not on his face.

“I wanted to talk to you for a moment,” Snape’s face was grim and didn’t betray what he was about to say.

“Yes, what is it,” Harry asked.

Severus reached into his coat and pulled out a long purple box. Harry recognized the box. He’d seen hundreds of them in Ollivander’s Wand shop in Diagon Alley. “This belongs to you,” he said and handed to Harry. “Since you cannot use your own against Him, this might prove useful to you. It was your mother’s. Peabody seems to think that it may hold her energy.”

Harry opened the box and pushed aside the tissue. His fingers trembled when he picked up the wand and felt a tingle of energy. “How?” he began and then choked.

“I found it in the ashes,” Snape said sadly. “It was the only thing left of hers that I had.”

Harry nodded and slipped it inside his own cloak. “Thank you.”

“Harry,” Snape spoke his name quickly and bit at his lip, “I wish you would let me go with you this evening.”

Harry stared at him and put his hand out, “Thank you again, Professor. I appreciate your help.” They shook hands. “I want you there tomorrow to protect my friends. I know it won’t be the safest place, but you and Remus are the only ones I know that can handle it. I don’t want anyone hurt.” Harry smiled and said, “Well, that’s not entirely true. If Malfoy get’s one between the eyes I won’t weep over him. Severus, you take care of yourself.” He said it and turned and walked away from the man dressed all in black and started down the stairs to Knockturn Alley.

Snape stood on the dark landing, and watched him trot down the stairs. He didn’t know it but Harry heard him whisper, “You too, Harry, you too.”

------------------

Harry slipped through the streets with ease. He kept his eyes on the shadows. It was late summer and typically light out until late in the evening. However, on this street, in this neighborhood Harry had to squint his eyes had to adjust to the dimness. The heat made the stench from the cobblestone almost unbearable. Refuse and moldy garbage was layered on the grungy stones.

He moved past storefronts with ancient encrusted windows and peeling paint. Carts pulled by wizards wearing ragged clothes made their way up the narrow avenues. They were heaped high with horse dung and to Harry’s disgust, dead and decaying animals used for nefarious purposes he was sure. He stopped several times to look into the panes of glass and look over his shoulder. For a moment, he was mesmerized by the intricate, spinning action of a fat spider until he was shoved in the back. He reciprocated the way he’d been taught by bellowing out a curse and taking a swing at the offender. Several times a grubby hand would reach for him and he‘d shirk them off. He’d pull out a bottle and pretend to drink and then swagger past anyone standing still on the street.

He made it without being seen or approached.

At ten o’clock he stood on the street staring at the houses that were on each side of No.12 Grimmauld place. The street lamps were just coming on and it was on the edge of twilight. He hurriedly closed his eyes and envisioned the address written out on a piece of paper that had been placed in his hands almost a year before.

The house immediately appeared. He hurried up the steps and spoke the passwords that would undo the charms placed on the door. He slipped into the cool hall and out of the summer heat. Letting his eyes adjust once again, he studied the hall. It was clean, well-lit and held a table with a vase of fresh-cut flowers. The picture of Sirius’ mother was gone and only a clean square spot where the portrait had hung was visible.

Harry heard the footsteps. Bird appeared on the landing.

“What’s he doing?” Harry asked throwing his cloak on a chair. He’d carried it in his hand through the summer heat and had rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

Bird leaned against the stair railing and smiled at him. “You look like a gypsy, Harry.” He waved his hand. “Come. He’s up here.”

“No trouble?” Harry asked joining him on the stairs.

The man turned on the step his foot one step up from the other. “No. This pluhoos (rat) is not going anywhere. He is a disgusting human being, Harry.” Harry nodded and they continued up the stairs stopping at the door.

“I want to thank you Bird,” Harry began.

“There is no need Harry,” the man said stopping him.

Harry nodded. “There wasn’t any problem in keeping him from changing?”

Bird laughed, “No problem Harry. Come see.” He opened the door and waited for him to enter.

Harry stepped in and looked around the room instantly alarmed. “Where is he?” the room appeared empty.

Bird stepped in and closed the door then bent, reached under a bed and pulled out a cage. Harry recognized the rat with the twisted ear and the missing toe.

“I need to talk to him. Can you make him transform and keep him from escaping?” Harry asked.

Bird scratched his chin, grinning mischievously. “He will appear Harry but you will not like it. He is going to be naked. I thought it wise not to allow him clothes when he changed to keep him from escaping. I will be outside the door anyway. If he tries to change just yell. I’ve sealed all the holes in the room so it should be alright.” Bird lifted the cage in his hand and stared at the rat. “When this is over Harry I’ll take him and feed him to my dog. He tried to bite me.” He sat the cage down and stepped back. With a flick of his wrist and a short wave over the cage the transformation began. He waited until he saw the pudgy man appear. “Good luck Harry.”

“Peter Pettigrew cowered, searching desperately for something to cover himself. He pulled the bedding from the bed and wrapped himself before turning to look at Harry. “It’s you!” he said in shock.

“Yes. It’s me,” Harry growled. “Sit down, we have something to discuss.”

They talked for ten minutes.

“I can’t tell him that! He’ll kill me,” Pettigrew cried piteously.

“You tell him or I will have this man standing outside the door kill you tonight,” Harry stood. “I would be doing you a favor, because he would do it quickly. If you fail me on this Pettigrew, I will have the satisfaction of knowing that Voldemort will punish you the way you deserve to be punished. There will be no rescue for you, Peter.” Harry glared at him feeling hatred rising like bile in his throat. “I will make it look like you escaped. You will be bruised but alive and it will be plausible.” When he said it the man began to shake visibly. Harry laughed. “I wish I could do it myself. But you will survive.” He turned to leave.

“Please Harry,” Pettigrew wheezed. “I was your father’s fr…”

Harry turned and lifted his wand, furious and deadly. He had heard Pettigrew plead for his protection before, when Sirius was in the Shrieking Shack and on the run from prison. It was because of Pettigrew that Sirius had spent so many years in prison. The memory blinded him and he reached for his wand. “STOP! he shouted. “or I will kill you now! Speak another word in my presence and I will take pleasure in making you suffer!” His hand shook as he pointed his wand at the terrified man, spittle flew from his mouth and sprayed the squirming man’s face.

“Harry,” A hand reached out and touched his arm. It was Bird. “Leave the room Harry and I will take care of this.” The voice was gentle and the constant pressure pushing down on his arm made Harry realize that he had been very close to killing Pettigrew.

Outside of the room he took the steps two at a time and rushed into the library. Gasping for air he felt tears racing down his face and wrenching sobs bursting from his throat. “AGHHHHHH!” All of the worry and pain and grief that he’d been holding in wrenched itself loose and flew out. “SIRIUSSSSSS!” he cried.

Bird found him on the floor kneeling his head to the floor, the wand still grasped in his hand. He said nothing and Harry clenched the carpet and sobbed uncontrollably.

An hour later, Harry was laying on the sofa with a glass in his hand, whirling the amber liquid around inside of it.

“Are you ready?” Bird was kneeling beside him. He held a needle in his hand and was burning the end of it with a candle flame.

Harry sat up, straightened his back and took the last of the fire whiskey in his mouth. Then he nodded.

The Roma man grinned and reached up and pulled Harry’s earlobe out. He stuck a cut-half of a potato behind the ear lobe and jammed the needle through. Blood trickled down into Harry’s collar. Then Bird took out a small gold ring and replaced the needle with the ring. He wiped the blood away and poured some of his own whiskey onto the earlobe.
“Done,” he said. “Now you are a true Roma. The girls will fall all over themselves for you.” They were a foot apart and Harry smiled. He knew his eyes were puffy and his face tear-streaked. There were a million reasons for not smiling but at that moment he grinned and held his glass out.
-----------
At two in the morning Harry walked through the door of the loft. Blackmoore was standing, dressed immaculately as usual, his hands behind his back in his normal pose.

“Blackmoore, you old devil,” Harry grunted.

“I see that Bird has been giving you spirits, Master Potter,” the vampire said.

“Blackmoore,” Harry grabbed the vampire in a lurching stumble, “was that you I heard tippy-toeing behind me in the alley? You could get yourself hurt you know. People who stick around me get hurt.”

“Oh, I don’t know Master Potter. I think people are quite fortunate to know you,” Blackmoore replied.

Harry looked up at the man who was half dragging him down the hall. He stared at the ghostly pale face made whiter by the moonlight. “Blackmoore, Blackmoore…” he shook his head. “You need to get some sun. You’re as pale as a ghost.”

Chapter Nineteen The Night Before the Battle

Harry woke and stared at the canopy covering his bed. He allowed himself to wake slowly without moving his head. The first time he tried it felt like it was exploding. He sensed the throbbing in his earlobe and strange rolling nausea in his stomach.

The night before faded in like the sun rising in the morning. He rolled his head slowly to the side and his clothes laid out neatly on the end of the bed. Next to them was his trunk. He sat up and squinted at the room. It was sunny and too bright.

“Hello, Harry,” a voice said too loudly.

He looked over and saw Hermione sitting in a chair by his bed, a book in her lap. “’Mione.”

“Professor Snape left this for you,” she got up and reached for a cup of coffee and a vial holding an amber liquid. “He said it would make you feel better.” She poured the liquid into the cup and handed it to him as he schooched up.

“Are you sure?” he asked holding the cup in his hand.

She looked at him with one of her disgusted looks and tilted her head to peek at the side of his head. “Into jewelry now are we, Harry?”

He touched his swollen throbbing ear and winced. “It seemed like a good idea last night.” He sipped the coffee and tasted the sweet potion in it. He immediately began to feel better.
“Oh that’s better.” He set the cup and saucer on the bed and laid his head back and closed his eyes.

“You know Harry, I’ve been thinking,” Hermione was chewing on her thumb nail and had propped her feet on his bed.

“Have you decided to bail out?” Harry didn’t open his eyes. “I would understand completely. I wouldn’t have even involved you if you weren’t the only muggle-born stupid enough to risk their life for me.”

“Thank you very much, Mister,” she grumbled and climbed on the bed with him. “Here sit up and finish this off.” He obeyed.

“It’s just you and me ‘Mione.” He looked her in the eyes and the brown eyes looked back. “What if we can’t do it?”

“That’s why we need to practice today. And I’ve found something that might help,” she slipped off the bed and retrieved the book. “Read this. I’m off to talk to Snape while you have your bath. There is nothing for you to do today anyway.” She started for the door. “Oh and Remus wants to see you of course, and Ron. Well everyone wants a word actually. Gee it’s like your some kind of royalty receiving everyone isn’t it?” She smiled a teasing smile and opened the door. “That potion should remove the effects from last night in about ten minutes. Go soak in the tub.”

He stared at the book, the words swimming in front of his eyes. The contacts were stinging and his head still pounded. Slipping the book off to the side, he climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Who wants to live forever anyway? he thought and slipped into the hot water. Just kill me now Voldemort and I’ll thank you for it. He pulled himself beneath the water wishing he could turn into a fish and stay there forever.

----------------

“Good Morning Master Potter,” Blackmoore stepped into the bathroom and handed Harry a towel while staring at some speck on the wall.

“Hello, Blackmoore,” Harry managed through a lather of foam. He was brushing his teeth and pulled the towel around himself. “Let’s talk.”

“Yes, of course, Master Potter,” the man said closing the door to the bathroom.

“If I were to ask you to do something for me that involved protecting my grandfather would you do it because I asked,” Harry struggled with the words, “even if it meant disobeying him?”

Blackmoore seemed to relax his shoulders and the frightening eyes turned and looked at Harry directly. “Rolly will go to Grimmauld Place to cast the spell that you need. But you’re afraid that Voldemort will kill him, so you want me to trick him and take him away before that happens.”

Harry stood with the toothbrush in his hand and nodded, stunned.

“You and Miss Granger will be there by yourselves. You intend on facing Voldemort by yourselves,” Blackmoore’s dark eyes seemed to penetrate to Harry’s soul. “You and Miss Granger.

When Blackmoore said it, it sounded like insanity. Harry nodded slowly. “Yes.”

The vampire servant put his hands behind his back, dropped his head and studied the floor. “I see.” It was minute more before he straightened himself to his former starched posture and opened the bathroom door. “Very well sir. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No…no, Blackmoore. Thank you.”

“I will bring breakfast in momentarily,” the man said and left.

Harry shoved his customary glasses back on his head and looked at himself in the mirror.
Are you insane? he asked the reflection.
---------------------

Harry was left alone for the morning. He sat in the study and looked at the chess board, his mind somewhere else other than the silver and gold pieces. Just before Blackmoore set a sandwich and juice in front of him, Hedwig arrived with a letter.

He opened it to find three sheets of parchment; one with his OWL marks, one with a list of school supplies needed for the coming term and the other a hand-written note from Professor McGonagal. It was apparent from the note that Dumbledore had explained the situation to her. In words that were barely couched to hide their meaning, she wrote in her spidery crawl,

Dear Harry,

My heart goes out to you. Without saying more I will wish you good luck. As soon as you arrive please come to my office. And Harry, I’m always reminding you in class to concentrate. And for heaven’s sake, keep your head down!

Respectfully,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

Harry smiled briefly and then opened the second sheet. He skimmed the marks he’d gotten in his OWLS He skimmed them and read the short note: Due to unfortunate circumstances during the examination given for Astronomy, no marks have been assigned. Please see the Deputy Headmistress for further information upon arriving at Hogwarts for the new term.

Harry remembered very well what had happened the night they were taking their Astronomy exams. Hagrid had been attacked by Delores Umbridge and her goons and then when McGonagal had gone out to stop it, she had also been attacked.

Harry let his eyes slip to one mark on the paper. It was his Potions mark. He had passed and had passed well enough to join Snape’s Potions class. He noticed Snape’s black initials just off to the side where it signified that he was aware of it. All the teachers left their initials on the marks. So he knew that I had passed and was going to be in his class, Harry mused to himself.

Harry ate lunch alone, sitting and chewing and studying the polished wooden table. In his mind’s eye he could see each person that had sat at that table the night before. He knew Ron was visiting his parent’s and family. Hermione was with Hannah, collecting her belongings from her shop and flat. Because of the danger to her, Snape had gone along. Lupin was in Diagon Alley buying their supplies for school.

Harry thought it felt strange not to be strolling along the street himself, with Hermione and Ron, stopping off for and ice-cream; being excited about school.

Just before dinner Ron arrived and came in to throw himself into a seat across from Harry at the table. He stared at the chessmen and reached over. “Want a quick game Harry before dinner?”

“Sure, why not,” Harry began to set up the pieces on his side. “How was everyone?”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was enough to know the Weasley’s were safe. He would have liked to have seen them one last time but he knew that it would have been a distraction, especially since they were still grieving over Percy and Harry knew that to some degree it was because of him.

“Oh you know,” Ron shrugged. “Still a bit depressing around mom and dad. I had a chance to talk to Ginny so that she’ll be prepared a bit. Fred and George wanted to come, but of course they couldn’t. Don’t be surprised when they meet us at Hogsmeade. You’ll be right behind us won’t you Harry?” His forehead wrinkled into a frown. “I know you don’t want to say, but can you tell me at least how your getting to Hogwarts. Are you flying your broom or something?”

Harry stared at him and shook his head, “It’s best not to know, Ron.” The other nodded.

They stared at the chessboard. Harry had the white pieces and he was starting first. He reached over and put a pawn out.

“Harry?” Ron squinted at him. “You know why I’m always beating you at chess?”

“You don’t always,” Harry said snickering. “I’ve won a few.” He looked over to see if Ron was being smug but he saw the serious expression on his friend’s face. “No. Why?”

“An inexperienced player is always ready to rush into things. An experienced player sits back and bides their time. They have already played ten even twenty moves ahead. They’ve already played the game,” Ron hadn’t reached for any piece on the board. Harry felt a rush of adrenaline flow through him like cool water splashing his face. He stared at the board and went through the calculations of their moves for the next day. The pieces didn’t even have to be on the right squares, he could see them in his eyes.

They sat without moving the pieces until dinner.
--------------

Hannah, Snape, Hermione and Bird joined them at the same time. Both Harry and Ron turned to observe them troop in. And both he and Ron gawked as they saw Hermione. Dressed in a blouse draped low on her shoulders, a skirt reaching to the floor and sandals; she looked like Hannah. She wore her own set of earrings and a pretty scarf that pulled her hair back. Her eyes were shining and she walked over to join them, giving each a peck on the cheek before sitting down.

“”Mione, you look…really good,’ Ron said blushing up to his red hair.

She smiled, “Thanks.” She saw Harry’s papers lying on the table. “Oh I see you’ve gotten your marks finally, Harry. May I?” she asked. Her eyes skimmed the marks. “Oh excellent! You and I have advanced potions together.” She glanced over at Snape who was sitting on the couch. Harry could see a slight movement indicating that he could hear them; his expression never changed.

“Yes, ‘Mione,” he nodded. Harry thought that if he actually survived the next day he would have to thank Snape for accepting him in his advanced class. He wondered what it would be like after tomorrow.

They talked about school, classes and friends and then dinner was served. Harry noticed that Peabody’s eyes were sparkling a little more and everyone seemed to be in a cheery mood, with the exception of Snape who never appeared cheery and Blackmoore who never moved a facial muscle. Harry ate his supper in silence and listened, his mind never off the chess set.

After everyone finished their meal they lounged throughout the study and Harry noticed Bird bring in a guitar. Lupin entered behind him and joined Harry at the table, while Hermione disappeared somewhere with Hannah.

“Harry, Bird is here,” Ron nudged him. “I thought he was guarding Pettigrew!”

Harry nodded, “Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you, Peter got away. He escaped.” Harry said it too easily and Ron looked alarmed. “It’s alright Ron. Let’s not talk about it.”

His friend slumped back and stared at him with an angry expression and the turned away, his hand going to his brow as if he had a headache. Harry could see he was hiding his face. He knew he couldn’t watch; didn’t want to watch his friend’s face twist in fear and worry. Harry looked away in silence.

Peabody’s head was stuck in a book. He had been gone most of the day and was non-communicative.


Harry slumped in his chair and felt a growing panic in his chest.

Bird set up a chair in the middle of the room and picked at his guitar. “Tonight we will have celebration of life,” he said with a low, soothing voice. “It is the Roma custom to take life one day at a time. We travel the roads and meet our families and friends for a short time and then we part and move on. It is our life’s blood; the road. When we are together we take pleasure in seeing each other and we dance and sing. Tonight we are going to dance and sing,” he smiled his typical enigmatic smile at them.

“Our people believe,” he went on to say, “that a man is not a man unless he can dance. It is time for all of you to learn. Rolly!”

“I’m here,” Peabody jumped to his feet as if he had been waiting all day. He stood in the middle of the room, his hands in the air, his feet spread slightly apart and his head up. “Severus, come and join me.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other eyebrows raised and watched as their Potion’s master got to his feet and joined the much smaller man. Bird began to play a slow melodic beat. In rhythm, the two dancers began to circle, making synchronized and slow shuffling steps.

Lupin stood and stepped in to the circle they were making around the room. Bird grinned and began to sing. Harry stood up and walked over and watched for a moment before joining them, Ron followed. They danced with solemn faces, matching each other’s movements. Harry felt the rush of energy as they began to step faster, their feet moving, stepping to the beat. From the doorway Harry caught sight of Hannah. She carried a drum in and was beating it to the music Bird played. Behind her a half dozen other people paraded around the room, all Romani and with them Hermione. Some carried musical instruments and some sang.

Breathless and flushing with heat, Harry and the men stepped back and Hannah stepped into the middle of the room. Hermione blushing a shade of bright pink stepped in with her. Together they began to dance a sensuous, writhing dance. Hannah clutched hand cymbals and they began to whirl, their skirts of blue and green and orange flowing out into umbrellas of color. Both had let their hair down and as they danced they tipped their heads and moved their arms up over their heads and back down into wide circles.

Harry was mesmerized by the movements as they appeared to cartwheel around the room and then stop and swing their hips and bellys into tight circles.

“Women and men don’t dance together,” Peabody said standing at his side. “It’s considered taboo. The women appear to be dancing in a seductive way and it looks very much like Mideastern belly dancing, but then the Roma people originally come from that area. Here the women are dancing for the men who will go off to battle, to remind them to come home where the women remain.” Harry looked at his grandfather as he explained what was happening. “Actually it’s to remind the men that the women’s beds are empty and their bellies carry no children. It’s an honor to you and the others here who will risk their lives.”

Harry turned back and watched as Hannah approached Severus and writhed in front of him and Hermione made her way to Ron and then to Harry. He allowed himself to watch her without embarrassment as she moved in front of him, her figure maturing and more voluptuous then he had ever noticed before. He kept his face composed as he knew that it was a tribute to him for her to dance for him. He bowed slightly and watched as she moved on, even to the point of dancing before Snape.

Hannah made her way around the circle, her movements practiced and graceful. She wore translucent veils and they swirled with her as she moved. Her feet were bare and her ankles encircled with gold bracelets and tiny tinkling bells. She danced before him and her dark eyes were sultry and glazed over as if she were drugged.

The men again entered the circle along with the Romani guests. The music became more frenzied and faster. Harry could feel his anxiety begin to ebb as he allowed his body to express his feelings. It even seemed natural to be dancing with his arms on Snape’s shoulders, every man intertwined like branches on a tree.

They stopped briefly and Hannah stood alone in the room and began to sing, “Dekhana (once upon a time),” she began a low pulsing lullaby melody. Her voice was clear and husky.

Peabody translated in a low voice as she sang in her own language. “She is singing a song of lament for those who go off to battle and never return. She says good bye and says that you will meet on the road, that you will see your loved ones and they will greet you and know your face.” He stepped in behind her and continued to translate the words.

“Patshiv tumenge Romale,” she ended.

Peabody followed it with the translation, “This song was offered as a gift to worthy men.”

What followed was a round of each person making a pronouncement, starting with the words, Te merav (may I die if…) or Te pabaren mage memelia (may you burn candles for me if…) followed by some oath each made to the group as a whole.

“Te merav me daravdo( may I die if I show fear),” Snape said quietly. Others nodded in acceptance.

“Te merav me anta lajavo me alav (may I die if I bring shame to my name),” Lupin said, and on it went around the circle of people sitting on chairs and on the floor.

Harry listened and felt a sense of peace rise in his heart. These people were preparing for war, for a battle; something he had never done. He felt the comradeship and fellowship and realized that although he was facing Voldemort alone, the people sitting around him in the room were also in the battle with him.

When the time came for him, he was prepared. He had urgently yanked on Peabody’s arm and whispered in his ear. “What is something I can say in their language that means…” he whispered. Peabody whispered back.

When the time came he stood. He was the very last person and he looked at each of them and said, “Prohasar man opre pirend-sa muro djiben semas opre ( When I die, bury me standing for I’ve been on my knees all my life). It was a tribute to the Romani people and their history of suffering, for they- more than many- knew what suffering meant.

After that, the room buzzed into activity with more dancing. Blackmoore wandered the room with a tray of wine and beverages and the other mingled with the guests.

“Harry, can we talk quietly?” Peabody stepped to his side. Harry nodded and they left the room.
---------------------

At eight in the morning, people were leaving just after breakfast. They were all to meet at #12 Grimmauld Street and then separate and go to King’s Cross station from there. Groups of two or three left by different routes. Harry was ahead of Peabody and Blackmoore. He made the trip alone and disguised. Hermione was with Lupin. Ron, Snape and Hannah left early before breakfast and took the route through the secret tunnel in her shop to the muggle streets of London.

Harry was still in his room when Blackmoore stepped in to let him know it was his time to leave. Sometime during the night the vampire butler had packed his trunk very neatly, laying his new robes, new books and other items necessary to start the school term, out in the trunk. He studied it and shook his head wondering if he was ever going to see it or use the things in his trunk.

He held Hedwig on his arm and talked to her. “Go to Dumbledore. He will look after you. Don’t come looking for me until I get to Hogwarts.” He stroked her feathers and opened a window. “Go on now.” She took off and circled overhead for several minutes before flying away. “I will see you soon,” he murmured.

“I will meet you on the road.”

Chapter Twenty Crescendo


At forty-five minutes past ten Harry stood before the house at #12 Grimmauld Place. The streets were quiet. People who were headed for work or taking their children to school had already gone about their daily activities. Harry studied the street, the small park and when he thought it was clear he envisioned the address in his head and the house materialized. He hurried up the steps and went in quickly.

They were all assembled in the library. Harry hurried down the hall past the empty space on the wall that had housed Sirius’ mother’s portrait and entered. Hermione was pouring the Polyjuice potion from the large cauldron and all their luggage was piled around them. They had waited for him.

Hermione poured a ladle full into each of their cups and said “good luck,” before moving on to the next. When at last she came to Snape she poured his and watched him look into the brew. He sprinkled the red hairs cut from Ron’s head and stoically drank the entire mixture without making a face. The rest followed suit. Harry knew how horrible it tasted.

“Now each of you has a flask,” she said. “Repeat the dose in exactly one hour or you’ll change back too soon.”

Suddenly there were little popping sounds and people began to transform. Harry watched with fascination as Hannah took on the lustrous brown bushy hair of Hermione, Snape shortened an inch or two and his black hair turned red, his nose shortened. Ron wearing dark, over-sized clothing suddenly grew several inches and his nose extended into a slightly beaky hook. He turned to Harry and looked at him with the famous Snape glare. Harry almost found himself laughing. For a moment during their transformation, there were two Snapes and then two Rons. As Harry stepped into the room he noticed that Lucius Malfoy was seated in a chair obviously bound and gagged with Binding Charms. Snape, transformed as Ron, stepped over with his wand in his hand. He removed the gag with a quick flick of his wand.

Malfoy glared up at him and said, “You won’t get away with this Severus.”

“Oh, I think I will Lucius. Think of it this way. If everything goes as planned, Voldemort will die and you will no longer have a master. You may spend the rest of your life in prison, but not suffer the horrible fate that he has planned for you.” Snape bent and reached for the man’s nose. “You didn’t think that he would hold you in his favor if he found you alive after such a long period of time did you?” Snape raise him up by pulling his coat with one hand and squeezing his nose with the other. Hannah, as Hermione tipped the goblet. “Drink up, Lucius.”

Harry watched, mildly amused. What he saw was Hermione pouring the brownish-green, thick liquid into the man’s mouth; his essence mixed in with the liquid. It was doubly amazing to see the man turn into him. The real Hermione shoved his glasses onto his face after the gag was replaced. Harry walked over and stared at himself; an exact duplicate.

After taking the potion, they collected the luggage and headed out. One-by-one they filed past him and headed out the door.

Lupin was the last to leave and the last one to speak to him. “Harry, I hope you know that I care about you and will be thinking of you. Hurry to Hogwarts as soon as you can.”

Harry hugged him and nodded, unable to speak.

Hermione walked through the double doors to the library and waited for him. “Ready?” she asked.

“In a moment, “Mione,” he answered.

--------------------

The small group gathered at Platform 9 and ¾’s at King’s Cross station and one by-one they crossed the barrier.

Ginny Weasley, caught up with them and they boarded the train together. She whispered something to Snape( Ron) and he nodded. They quickly found a compartment where Ron (Snape) waved his wand over Harry(Malfoy) and spoke the incantation that bound and gagged him.

Hermione (Hannah) looked at him curiously and he noticed and mumbled, “The Imperious Curse won’t work on him for long. It held just long enough to get him on the train. This way I can control him.”

They settled themselves in. Lupin sat near the door, Hannah as Hermione sat next to him and Ron as Snape crowded in next to the transformed Malfoy who sat rigidly in a corner staring out at them from Harry Potter’s eyes.

They had boarded just in time as the steam whistle gave out a last warning and children on both sides leaned from windows and yelled goodbyes to their families.

“Ron,” Hermione nudged him. “We have to go forward for awhile. REMEMBER we’re perfects…”

“Prefects Hermione,” Ron corrected her. He looked at Remus who nodded. “We have to go forward to the meeting with the other prefects, Remus. Do you think you can handle him while we’re out? If we don‘t go it will look suspicious.”

“I think it’ll be alright. We’ve gotten this far and I didn’t think we’d even do that,” Remus said. “I’ll put a locking spell on the door after you leave.” He held his wand with one hand and crossed his arms tucking it out of sight.

“Lupin, this will be the most dangerous time,” Ron warned him. “He will want to get to Harry with no one or very few people around.”

“It’s alright, Sev…Ron. Go and make some excuse to hurry back,” Remus slipped and caught himself before he said Snape’s full name. They slipped out the door and Ginny slipped in before he could lock it.

“Ginny, I don’t think this is wise,” Lupin began.

“I know,” she said putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back and sticking her head out the door. “Come on, hurry!” Before he knew it, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Dennis and Collin Creevy, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas had crowded into the compartment and made themselves comfortable. Lupin looked out and saw the hallway lined with people making themselves comfortable on the floor.

“We’re Harry’s bodyguard,” Ginny said. She glanced over at Harry and pulled out her wand and sat next to him. Lupin was surprised however to observe her point the tip of it at his face. “Of course, should there be an accident and my arm gets bumped, anything could happen.” She was glaring at him and the others followed her example.

Lupin set the spell on the door and sat down to look at them all. “How?” he asked quietly.

“We wanted to make it look real,” Neville Longbottom said. “If Vol…Voldemort shows up…,” he stuttered and couldn’t finish.

“Then he’s going to have the fight of his life,” Seamus Finnigan finished for him. Every head nodded slowly. “If no one was protecting him then it wouldn’t look real.”

Harry, I hope you know how many people care about you, Lupin thought as he looked back into their faces, completely overwhelmed by the determination he saw there.

--------------------

Harry walked through the house very slowly. It was quiet. He stepped into the kitchen and ran his hand along the table, stopping at the place where he had last seen Sirius. The room was neat and clean and held none of the lingering stench that it had before the ’cleaning crew’ had taken over. He remembered it clearly.

He stepped through the door, glanced back once and closed it.

---------------------

Ron walked through the rocking corridor. Students rushed past him and ducked into compartments. It took him a moment to realize they were seeing Snape. From that point on, he stood straighter and began greeting each one with a smile. “Hello, Miss Turpin, Miss Patil, nice to see you.” He almost broke out laughing when one approached him by herself. He greeted her and she screamed and flew down the corridor in terror.

It wasn’t until he came to the end of the train and saw several open doors and the food cart along with riotous laughter and giggling that he knew he’d found his destination. The trunks laying scattered in the way had the Slytherin insignia.

He stepped up to the door and saw Draco Malfoy pawing at Tracey Davis, a rather plain Slytherin girl. He was surrounded by his admirers, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott. When he caught sight of Ron who he thought was Snape, Draco hurriedly straightened his clothes and got to his feet.

“Professor!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“It seemed wise that you had an adult looking out for you Mr. Malfoy since it is widely known that your father was abducted. We wouldn’t want a Slytherin Prefect harmed would we?” Ron laid it on heavily, hoping that it would have the desired affect.

Draco smiled broadly and puffed out his chest as if to say to the others, See how I’m favored? They’ve even sent the Potion’s Master and the Head of House here to be my body guard.” Ron knew that the moment he left those would be the exact words that would come out of his mouth.

“Could I have a word, Mr. Malfoy?” he asked, politely. He scowled at the others, “Behave yourselves and act like young ladies and gentlemen. You will not sully the name of Slytherin while I am present on this train. Is that understood?” They nodded fearfully and sat up straight and neatly on their seats.

Together Snape and Draco Malfoy walked down the corridor to an empty compartment. They stepped in and Snape closed the door, looking both ways before doing so and grinning, just before he composed his face and turned around.

-----------------------

Harry knew that the house was empty with the exception of he and Hermione. They were in the library.

“Do we need to go over this again or are you ok with it,” Harry asked. He moved a chair so that his back would be to the wall. There was only one exit through the door they had entered and another through the fireplace.

“I’m alright with it,” Hermione said. As he placed the chair she touched her pocket and felt the object. Her wand was tucked into her sleeve, where she found it easiest to reach. It wouldn’t be needed anyway, she knew.

“We’ll only have seconds,” Harry said, looking up at her.

“I know Harry,” she answered. She didn’t chastise him for reminding her because she knew they had done what they could do to perfect their plan. She was so nervous that she thought she would heave her breakfast all over the carpet.

He stepped over and held her, only to pull back and smile. “A promise made ‘Mione. We will not regret anything that we do, nor will we blame ourselves for the outcome.”

“Right,” she said and felt the anxiety leave her as she looked into his green eyes. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. They smiled and she swallowed and said, “Me first.”
--------------------

An hour into the trip, Remus slid the door open and allowed Ron and Hermione to enter the compartment. The Creevy brothers slipped out to make room. Ron glared at the others in the room and Remus almost burst out laughing. Even changed into the body of Ron, Snape could scowl impressively.

“Anything, so far?” he asked.

Lupin shook his head. And then, the train started to slow down. The lights went out and there was deadly silence.

“Everybody on the floor,” Ron hissed. “LUMOS” The end of his wand lit up into a bead of light large enough to show a path through the bodies. “Let me out Remus. You stay here. While you’re here waiting take your potion again. All of you. Hannah,” Ron ordered, “hold Malfoy down and drown him in it if he speaks a word!”

“Can he…Voldemort apparate right onto the train,” Ginny asked quietly.

Lupin shook his head, his own wand lit enough to check the position of the people on the floor. “No one move and don’t do anything. We could end up hurting each other if we start waving our wands around.” He stared out a crack in the door. “Ginny crawl over and help Hermione with Harry.” Lupin nodded and waited until he heard her begin to wiggle around and through the bodies. The two of them wrestled the struggling ‘Harry’ onto the seat, one sitting on top the other holding his nose. The minute he swallowed Hermione let go and waved her hand over him to replace the gag on him.

“Merlin’s Beard!” Lupin swore under his breath. He saw flashes of red and green light at the end of the corridor where the door interconnected to the next car. “Wand’s out!”

Hermione crawled through the door followed by Ginny and Lupin, who placed himself at the foot of the door. “Hannah get those kids into compartments right now,” he whispered vehemently. Together they crouch-walked down the corridor, one taking each side and pushing open doors. The door screeched open at the end of the train and a figure was silhouetted in the light, it was Ron.

He moved down the train slowly shielding himself at each door and shouting as he went, “Keep your heads down!”

-----------------------
Harry situated himself comfortably on the chair and faced the fireplace. He let the Siamese cat jump up into his lap, take a turn and settle herself down. Her green eyes also focused on the fireplace. The clock struck twelve and a sudden whirling of ashes and dust told him that Voldemort was on his way.

Experienced players always take their time, he said to himself. “They sit back and bide their time and play ten or twenty moves ahead.” He heard Ron’s voice in his head. Ok Ron, he thought. He reached down and stroked the cat’s silky fur and got a resounding throaty purr.

-----------------------

The real Ron was crawling on his hands and knees and moving forward from the other direction. He’d already taken out two of the Deatheaters as they boarded the train. He heard a thump as one fell off the platform between the cars and another when his curse, STUPIFY hit him. He knew they wouldn’t stay down long and he wasn’t accustomed to the older, larger body that he wore. Although Snape was amazingly fit for such an old man, he was still bigger, Ron was thinking as he rolled and dodged a red flash that just missed his head. He lay on his back, raised his head and pointed the wand up just as the man came up on him.

Mulciber, the infamous Deatheater who specialized in the Imperious Curse towered over him. Ron knew that if the man used the curse all would be lost. He had not been able to throw it off no matter how often he had tried while practicing with the other D.A. members. He suddenly kicked upward with all of his strength, landing a blow between the man’s legs, and shouting INCENDIO at him at the same time. The man’s hair caught fire and Ron watched him slapping at his head, holding himself between the legs and running down the length of the car the way he had come.

Ron got to his feet and ran full tilt towards the door to the next car.

------------------------------

Harry watched the whirling figure stop and step into the room. It was Voldemort, holding a squirming rat in his hands.

“Hello, Harry,” he said. “Just wanted to see if you were alone.” The skull-like face and red eyes stared at the cat in his lap that was suddenly looking at the rat dropped to the floor, it’s ears swiveling forward.

“Hello Voldemort,” Harry said easily. “I see you got my message.”

--------------------

Ron slid down the wall in front of Lupin just as the lights came on. “What is it? What’s happening?” Doors were coming open slowly along the side and heads were peeking out.

Snape who had not taken his Polyjuice potion again was sitting across from him on the floor next to Remus and in front of the door to the compartment. They all turned and stared as a group of figures came charging down the corridor towards them. It was Cornelius Fudge and Wizards from the Ministry of Law Enforcement Squad.

Fudge stopped and looked at the two Snapes and Remus all sitting on the floor. ‘What is this?” he asked. “Where’s Harry?”

-------------------------

The cat in Harry’s lap jumped down and pursued the rat across the floor and trapped it beneath the couch. Voldemort followed it with his eyes and laughed uneasily.

“I see you brought your wand,” Harry said.

Voldemort swung it around and nodded, “ I see you have yours as well.” He nodded towards the wand tucked into Harry’s pocket. “Yes, although it is a worthless thing isn’t it. You see I found out what happened back in the graveyard. I had forgotten about Priori Incantato. So, Harry, how shall we resolve this?” Voldemort walked slowly from the fireplace around to the middle of the room.

Wait for it, wait for it, Harry said to himself. Let him make the first move.

“You know Harry you’ve almost become like a son to me,” Voldemort said and the very sound of his voice made Harry cringe. “But I have grown tired of these little games we play with one another. So how should we do this?”



And then, it happened. All in one simultaneous action. Peabody flung open the doors of the library and shouted at Voldemort. “Take me, Riddle! Take me instead!

Then, Voldemort raised his arm pointed it at Peabody and shouted, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The Siamese cat transformed into Hermione who reached in her pocket and pulled out a mirror and shouted into it, “Now Professor. We need you now!”

A beautiful familiar white owl swooped down through an open window and picked up a scurrying rat in it’s talons and swept back out;

and,

Harry rose slowly from his chair and before he reached his full height, he transformed into a magnificent white tiger. He took one step and leapt into the air landing on Voldemort, his fangs fastening into his neck.

The green flash of the killing curse landed squarely in the middle of Blackmoore’s chest who miraculously appeared just in front of Peabody.

And somewhere, on the way to Hogwarts, Snape reached in his pocket, pulled out a child’s pink plastic mirror and heard a scream coming from within it. With a Pop! he apparated.

Chapter Twenty One


Hermione, Peabody and Blackmoore stood watching in horror. As soon as Voldemort realized what Harry had done, he also changed into his animagi form; the black panther. Together they attacked with claw and fang. A tremendous noise of growling erupted from each of them. The tiger, although smaller, was fiercer. The beautiful white coat, however was quickly becoming stained red with blood.

“Stop them! Oh, somebody stop them!” Hermione was screaming.

Blackmoore had Peabody by the back of the cloak while he was swimming with all of his might; his hands flailing, his feet kicking, trying to reach them. He was also shouting, “Harry! Harry!”

The animals broke and then charged again, a flurry of black and white bodies rolling and twisting on the floor. There were gnashing teeth and claws flying in every direction.

Suddenly, a black shape swept into the room. It was Snape. Hermione saw him.

“Do it now Professor! Change him now!” Hermione withdrew her wand and the two of them pointed and shouted at the same time.

"MORARI CONFINIS," Hermione screamed.

"ABI IN MALAM REM," Snape shouted.

Their spells hit the target. At once Voldemort began to change back to his human form and then, writhing in fury, he retreated into his animal form. Caught between the two, he spun on his feet and rolled away from Harry. Blackmoore let go of Peabody who ran over and cast a spell to surround the writhing, growling creature in a cage.

Hermione was on her knees next to the white tiger who lay panting and bleeding profusely. She looked over at Snape who was examining the creature with his eyes.

“Help him change,” she pleaded. “He’s been hurt too badly and he doesn’t have the energy. Don‘t let him die like this.”

Snape waved his wand once again and the beautiful animal before them changed into a living breathing Harry.

He had a gash across his chest and tears and bite marks on his arms and shoulders. He was awake and gasping. “Did we do it?”

Hermione was weeping and holding his head. “Yes, we did it. He’s caught in the ‘inbetween’.” Harry nodded. She looked over at Snape. “Please you’ve got to help him.”

“It’s alright, Miss Granger,” a voice said from the doorway. “I’ve brought help.” Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room and behind him was Poppy. She rushed to them and knelt.

“My goodness, Mr. Potter,” she exclaimed. “You do manage to get yourself into a mess. We‘ve got to get you to the hospital.”

“Not now Poppy,’ Albus said leaning over them. “Just stop the bleeding for now.”

Harry stared at him, “Albus.”

“Yes, Harry,” Dumbledore nodded gravely. “Now you must make a choice Harry. You must decide. Voldemort is caught between animal and beast. His human mind is trapped in an animal body. You must decide whether to kill him or not.”

“Can’t it wait, Professor,” Hermione cried. “He’s…he’s badly hurt.”

Dumbledore placed his hand on her shoulder. “He will live I think, but this cannot wait.”

“Severus, will you give me mother’s wand; it’s over there, I dropped it,” Harry said and gestured weakly to the other side of the room. His hand dripped blood in the direction he pointed.

The man stood and walked over and picked up the wand. He brought it over and turned the handle end towards Harry who took it and grasped it to his chest. He once again looked at Snape, “Will you help me?”

Snape leaned over and helped him to his feet. Together, they walked to the cage where a black panther with an almost human countenance snarled back at them.

“I’m going to let my mother’s wand make the choice,” Harry said. “If it kills him , then so be it. If it doesn’t then we will let him live.” Harry looked up at the faces surrounding him. “He will live a horrific life but it is no more than he deserves. If I were to kill him by another means, then dark magic would rule my life. Granddad, am I right in believing that he cannot change from this form now?” Harry looked over at his worried grandfather. Peabody was literally wringing his hands.

“No Harry, there is nothing anyone can do for him now,” Peabody answered, staring in horror at the part animal, part-human.

“Very well. Stand back Severus,” Harry raised the wand, and with all the strength that remained he shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" and then passed out.

---------------------

Madam Pomfrey kept him in the hospital wing the first two weeks of school primarily because she couldn’t keep visitors away and even small visits tired him out. Hermione and Ron kept constant vigil through the night and during the day, he often had someone sitting in a chair next to the bed as he slept. It was usually the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Humphrey Raleigh Peabody.

Harry lay heavily bandaged in the bed he had occupied so often in the past and was sleeping.

A tall figure stepped into the room and crossed to the foot of the bed. Peabody glanced up, nodded and left the room. The figure reached over and laid a hand on Harry’s wrist and felt for his pulse. It was strong and steady. He went to withdraw it when Harry’s other hand reached over and held it in place. Harry opened his eyes.

“I didn’t think you would come and see me,” he said sleepily.

“I’ve come to see if you are ready to do a little homework, Mr. Potter,” the deep voice replied, “as you are two weeks behind already.”

Harry stared up and then rolled and almost reached his glasses before the hand took them and placed them on his face. Snape then stood back his hands folded in front of him and waited.

“Professor,” Harry pulled himself painfully into a sitting position. “No one will tell me…”

“He did not die, Mr. Potter,” Snape interrupted to answer the question he knew was coming. “But he will be watched carefully. You need not worry about him again.”

Harry nodded. “Hermione tricked me. I didn’t know she’d taken Sirius’ mirror from my trunk. I didn’t know she was going to call for you. But I’m glad she did.”

“Miss Granger is an excellent student, Mr. Potter….”

“Would you mind calling me Harry,” he asked, watching the face. “Just while I’m in here.”

“Harry.” Snape didn’t move. He continued talking as if he had not been interrupted, “You put too much faith in her abilities. The Dark Spell used to keep Voldemort from changing was actually a reverse spell. The spell itself means ‘Change‘. However, the exact wording means ‘Go to the Devil’. You were partly right when you read about it in Peabody‘s study. Only a Muggle-born can the speak the words Morari Confinis which mean ‘stay the same’. The two combined together- Change and Stay will cause the morphing to cease and leave the animagi caught in the ‘in-between’. What you failed to understand is that the words cannot be spoken by one person. Miss Granger was wise in asking me to join her there to speak the other words with her.” Snape remained still at the side of his bed. His facial expression didn’t change when he said, “Perhaps this will be a warning to not delve into the Dark Arts. It takes years of study and is very dangerous.”

Harry listened half-heartedly. He knew the Potion’s Master was nervous in seeing him.
“Professor?”

“Yes…Harry,” Snape said it in a monotone.

“Thank you,” Harry reached out and his hand was caught by the other. “I think my mother would have been very grateful that you helped me.” Harry pulled the wand out from beneath the covers and handed it to Snape. “I want you to have this.” Snape took it from his hand with some hesitation. It was Harry’s mother’s wand.

Snape held it gently and caressed the smooth surface. He nodded and slipped it into his pocket without speaking.

“Harry,” Hermione and Ron came around the edge of the curtain. “Oh hello, Professor!” She smiled at Harry and then leaned over and brushed his cheek with her lips. “Day after tomorrow they are having a ceremony. You must be up by then.”

Ron grinned and added, “They are giving you the Order of Merlin! First Class! Fudge is going to do it here at the school.”

Harry looked at them and then Snape. Hermione caught his eye. “Fudge is also awarding the Order of Merlin First Class to Professor Snape and to me, and the Order of Merlin Third Class to Remus, and Ron. Hannah has disappeared somewhere with her family or she would have gotten one, too.” She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. Harry smiled too as he watched his professor blush!

To cover his embarrassment, and pleasure, Snape managed to turn his face into a scowl. “By the way Mr. Weasley, Draco Malfoy has avoided me as if I had contracted the plague. Just what was it you said to him on the train while you were impersonating me?”

Ron grinned and replied, “I told him that I had wanted to say something to him for a very long time. I told him I was sweet on him and wanted to know if we could date.”

Harry and Hermione stared at Ron in astonishment and then burst out laughing. Snape turned on his heels and left the room.

-------------------------

Ten minutes before noon the next day, Harry stood at the window with Dumbledore and stared out at the lawns. Gaily decorated tents were pitched all over the grass and not only the students and their families were scattered below but hundreds of other people. Cornelius Fudge was standing behind a curtain that separated a back stage area from a podium where he would be giving a speech.

Harry noticed a number of people he recognized, including the whole Weasley family, a dozen red-heads bobbing in the crowd.

Dumbledore stood at his side and remained silent.

“Are we safe do you think, Professor?” Harry asked.

The older man stared out and then turned to him, “I don’t know Harry. I’m an old man and I think I’ve seen too many Voldemort’s in my life. But, perhaps we will have some peace. It’s hard to say. Anyway it‘s time for you to get on with your life.” He patted Harry on the back. “Take your time. Come down when you’re ready, they will wait for you.” He headed down the aisle through the empty hospital ward.

Harry continued to stare out the window, the panes of glass filtering the noise from below so that the room was quiet. He didn’t hear her enter.

“Hello, Chavo,” Hannah stood in the doorway. “I see that you are alive and well I hope.”

Harry smiled before turning. Hannah! “So you did come,” he said and then turned. “Did you come to receive your reward?”

She scowled and then smiled at him as she walked barefoot through the ward, the tiny tinkling of bells the only sound in the room.

“No, Harry. Who cares about such things. I come with my family. When a Roma travels, many come with them in wagons we call vardos. Today we will celebrate. We will sing and dance.” She sidled up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. She remained inches from him.

“Don’t you think Severus would be upset if he saw you do that?” Harry said.

She grinned, “Yes. That‘s what makes it fun.” She took him by the hand. “Come. We will run down through the grass in our bare feet and hide from the speechmakers. You will feel freedom as you have never felt it before. The burden on your heart will be gone. Come Chavo.” She teased him and pulled him towards the door.

He hesitated, looked out at the hundreds of people and slowly kicked off his shoes and socks, dropped his robe, his tie and peeled back the cuffs on his shirt. “Lead the way Hannah.”



Latcho Drom (Safe Journey)
Natasha