Based on the Harry Potter Series By J. K. Rowling
Chapter 40 “ Investigations
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“Yes, Percy, I’m here. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so, Severus. What happened?”
“Harry’s gone to do...something.”
“What do you mean? Why the secret?”
“Percy, please trust me. You’ve put your life in my hands; I need you to do it one more time.”
After a brief pause, Percy agreed. “What should we do now?”
“I’d say it was about time for you to wake up. Are you ready to go back to the land of the living?” Snape’s voice ‘sounded’ both happy and serious.
Percy’s initial reaction was yes, but then he remembered something. “Severus, what about you?”
“Percy, don’t worry about me. I’m happy I had the chance to do some good for you. I suspect you will have a long recovery ahead so save your worries for that, not me.”
As Percy began to feel Snape slip away, he thought about Bill, Charlie, and all the others who were gone, too. Why was Snape so eager to move on? Percy asked himself.
“Severus, can I go with you?”
“Percy, that’s not my decision to make. The magic that has held us together, between two worlds, is now gone. You’ll be going back to a very different world, but you still have your family and friends. I’ve never really had either and I’ve made many enemies; perhaps I can atone for that with what I’m doing.”
Percy was speechless, the Severus Snape he had known for a decade was not the person he was hearing.
“Please, Severus, don’t do this. There has to be...”
“Goodbye, Percy.”
“No, don’t go.”
The Healer on duty in Percy’s room had dozed off after a heavy dinner. He had also slept through his own loss of powers. Awakening at the sound of Percy’s last outburst, he jumped up and went to Percy’s bed, not sure if he had truly heard something or just dreamt about it. Seeing Percy opening his tear-filled eyes, and register recognition of his surroundings, the Healer simply said, “Welcome back young man.”
9:45 pm, 18 January 1999
Jeffery Benton looked frazzled as he entered the parlor at 10 Downing Street to schedule interviews for the next morning. His condition was certainly understandable, given the very long day and its turbulent events. Benton was perfectly happy to have his current job, rather than his bosses. The Prime Minister already had meetings scheduled until midnight, and then again early the next morning. The news he was about to bring Thompson would certainly not improve his mood.
“Excuse me, sir. The BBC and other major networks are demanding a few minutes of your time tomorrow morning.”
Thompson had just finished an entire quarter-hour of peace and quiet with his family and their guests when Benton arrived. Since he had planned on having at least another fifteen minutes to himself before the meetings started, Benton’s appearance was not well received.
“Jeffery,” Thompson only called him ‘Jeffery’ when he was angry about something. “Do you enjoy your job?” the Prime Minister asked in a resigned voice.
“Well, sir, on days like today; no, not especially.”
“Then you’re in for a tough time, Jeff, I have a feeling this is only the beginning of something very different from what we’ve been used to.” Shaking his head and standing to take the schedule Benton was suggesting, Thompson glanced at it, then turned to Harry and Ginny. “I’m afraid I’ve made you two into instant celebrities. That wasn’t my intention, please believe me; I shouldn’t have used your names.”
Harry and Ginny had already spoken amongst themselves about what would happen with their names in the Muggle media. Ginny was completely against any interviews or stories. Harry surprised Ginny by suggesting it might be better to be interviewed than have stories made up by the press.
When Harry related their mixed feelings to Thompson, he was genuinely surprised. Harry saw the smile creeping into Brian’s face and cut him off. “Mr. Prime Minister, I’ve been trying to avoid the wizard press for eight years; I hate it. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to live a quiet, peaceful life; if that can’t happen now, then the hell with it. But I will not expose Ginny to this. Is there any way out?”
Surprising the concerned parties, it was Benton who made a suggestion first. “Mr. Potter, I understand your position and respect it. May I suggest something that might be able to let both parties have what they want?”
“What’s that? I’m not interested in writing books,” Harry replied.
“No, not at all Harry,” Thompson cut in. “I believe what Jeff is referring to is you granting one magazine or television network the ‘exclusive rights’ to your story. You wouldn’t be in front of cameras and mobs of reporters.”
“You would be able to do one-on-one interviews at your convenience, have editing rights to anything written; I think the Prime Minister and I can guarantee you that there will be no shortage of offers.”
Harry looked at Ginny and could tell by the look in her eyes that if either were ever going to consent to something like this it would not happen for a long time. Looking at Benton, then back to the Prime Minister, Harry gave them their answer. “Mr. Benton, Mr. Prime Minister, we can’t make this decision now, I think we need to take some time to think about it. We’re both pretty tired, could we just go...”
Realizing there was no place to go, Ginny finished the idea Harry had started. “Could we get a lift to my brother’s flat? I don’t think it’s too far away.”
“Certainly, Ginny. Jeff, tell the blood hounds to chase after me for a while.” Harry and Ginny could tell by the look on the Prime Minister’s face that he must enjoy the press interviews.
“Ginny, I’ll have one of our agents take you to your brother’s place. What time should he pick you up in the morning?”
This caught Ginny by surprise, she was not expecting to return to her job after today. “You want me back?” Ginny asked with astonishment.
Mary Thompson, who had been quietly observing the dialogue, spoke right up. “Of course, Ginny, we didn’t hire you because you were a witch. I expect you here every day this week. And if you’re late, I’ll dock your pay.”
Laughing and walking over to Ginny and Harry, Mary put her arms around them and took the couple to the waiting area for their coats. “Harry, be sure to keep that phone on, in case someone needs to contact you.” Then saying their goodbyes, Harry and Ginny climbed into an official government sedan and spent the next ten minutes trying to explain Diagon Alley to the driver.
Returning to her husband in the parlor, Brian asked his wife, “Why didn’t you tell Ginny?”
Mary shrugged her shoulders and embraced her husband. “She’s had enough excitement for one day. I’m sure she’ll see it on her own.”
Patty and Remus had stopped at the cottage on the way back to Hogsmeade to let the caretakers know they needed the car until tomorrow morning. With their blessing, Patty drove the final four miles to Ron and Hermione’s house. Turning off the engine, Patty and Remus looked at each other and started laughing.
“I hope I never drive again!” Patty told Remus.
“Yeah, me too!” Remus replied.
Hearing Remus bang on the front door, Arthur opened it a few seconds later. Patty and Remus soon found the other three occupants standing around them asking questions.
Before they answered anything, Patty had a question of her own. “Why is it so bloody cold in here?” Looking at the dead fireplace, Patty bunched some paper up, placed it under the wood Arthur had tried to light, and took a pack of matched off the mantle. In a minute the fire was burning brightly and Arthur was insisting that Patty show him how to use matches.
“Remus, would you please check the pipes in the basement?” Patty asked politely.
“Why?” Remus could not think of a single good reason to do such a thing. Patty could.
“If the temperature in the pipes gets too cold, they can freeze and burst. It’s -5 outside and not much warmer in here. If you see water coming out of a pipe we’ll have to turn off the water to the house.”
Then walking into the front hallway, Patty noticed the thermostat. “You must be crazy! Who set the thermostat to 10 degrees?”
“Ah, that would be me,” admitted Arthur, “I thought I was setting the time. Sorry.”
Patty laughed at Arthur’s lack of simple ‘know how’ and changed the thermostat. The sound of the furnace starting brought cheers to their mouths. In a few minutes the house was noticeably warmer and sleeping arrangements were changed. Molly and Patty took the twin beds upstairs and the men split the remaining beds and rug.
Ron and Hermione spent a restless night on the express to London. There were enough seats for them to stretch out, but neither was used to the modern electric trains. The noises and bumps on the Hogwarts Express had been replaced with the high-pitched whining of the electric engines. Giving up on sleeping, Ron moved over to Hermione’s seats and had her use his leg as a pillow. Her warmth and proximity helped Ron doze better sitting up for the last ninety minutes of the trip.
The electronic conductor’s voice announced “Paddington Station, London” a few minutes before three in the morning. Standing and stretching in their nearly empty carriage, Ron and Hermione faced and unknown station with no money and no idea how to get to Fred and George’s flat.
Hermione clung to Ron’s arm as they debarked on to the station platform. Following the crowd, such as it was, into the main station, Hermione and Ron were startled to the point of drawing their wands. Two heavily clad adults had grabbed them, then pulled both into an embrace. Hermione recognized something familiar.
“Mother? Daddy?” Hermione cried out. Ron suddenly found himself wishing he had stayed on the train.
Tom and Jeannie Granger held their “children” and could not speak for a long minute. Hermione wanted to embrace them back, but she was having difficulty putting her heart in it. They had abandoned her when she needed them the most, but...
“Hermione, I’m so sorry, we’re so sorry,” Jeannie Granger cried, now holding her daughter at arms length. “When we heard what happened we had to do something to help.”
Tom Granger stood with a broken look on his face, he had obviously been crying also. “Hermione, we were asses. I know we let you down when you needed us. When we heard the Prime Minister tell the country what had happened, and then heard Harry’s name, we contacted Downing Street, and they connected us with Harry. He and Ginny are staying with George Weasley and he asked us to pick you up and take you there.”
“It was the least we could do,” Jeannie continued. “Ron, Hermione, we don’t expect you to accept us back overnight, but let us help you out tonight and we can leave tomorrow for tomorrow. Please.”
Hermione could tell her parents were in earnest, but she still had a great deal of unresolved issues from their rejection. Thinking back to August and September, all Hermione could think about was losing the baby, her bouts with drinking bordering on alcoholism, and the near disaster with Harry. Looking in her parent’s eyes, Hermione tried to make a choice, but she was just too tired to process a fair decision.
“I don’t want to sound negative, but I need to talk to Ron about this. I’m just too tired to think right now. Where are you staying?”
“We’re at the Bonnington, around the corner from the British Museum. We’ll cab over to George’s place with you and give you our number. We hope you’ll call us. If we don’t hear anything for a couple days we ‘ll understand, too. Is that fair?” Tom suggested.
“Ok, can we just go, please? I’m about to drop.” Hermione sounded more exhausted than Ron could ever remember, and he was not far behind her. Arriving on the Muggle side of Diagon Alley, Ron managed to mumble a “thank you” to the Grangers when the cab dropped them off. Following the directions the Granger’s had received from Harry, they climbed three flights of stairs and knocked on the door. George opened the door a minute later and pulled them both in with a hug.
“Hey, the travelers are here.” George called out to Harry and Ginny. His voice was cheerful, (or at least as cheerful as one can be at 3:30 am,) but his eyes lacked the mischievous spark they usually carried.
“George, Shhh. If they’re half as tired as us they need to sleep,” Hermione scolded.
“Say, where are they?” The flat only had two rooms and a living-dining-kitchen combination which meant that unless Ginny was in George’s room...
“Hi Ron, Hermione,” Harry croaked, standing in the door to Fred’s room. “Glad you guys are here, I’m going back to bed.” But before he got away, Hermione had thrown her arms around him and said welcome back.
A moment later Ginny stuck her head out of the same door. “Hi, see you in the morning.” Then she turned and headed back to bed.
Ron peeked his head into Fred’s room and saw Harry on the Floor and Ginny on the bed. Then Hermione’s hand pulled him out of Fred’s room. “Ron, don’t start that again, they’re adults.”
George was yawning constantly as he told them of the sleeping arrangements. “You guys can have the sleeper, there are blankets and sheets over there. I’m headed back to bed.”
“Oh, George,” Hermione said before he disappeared, “Fred said to say hello and that he’s ok.”
George’s eyes lit up with the news. Smiling, he again said good night and vanished into his darkened room.
Tiernan Keane’s experience was quite different from Harry’s after they parted earlier Monday evening. Never having to “take care of” a dead person before, he first had to contact the police. It was actually a lot easier than he first thought. Walking back into the lobby, he saw a growing number of officers keeping the Muggle public away from the front of the Ministry building. Gaining the attention of one officer, Tiernan motioned for him to come to the door. Letting the officer in and relocking the door, a move the officer agreed with, he led the bobbie to the rear entrance and showed him Shacklebolt’s body. Within a few minutes additional help had been summoned via the officer’s radio. Both ends of the alley were sealed and another officer appeared and began questioning Tiernan.
After the questioning, Tiernan asked to be permitted to watch some of the forensic investigation that was about to start. Pleased that their only potential witness had no desire to leave, the officers agreed. Tiernan, a life long Sherlock Holmes fan, stood aside and watched everything the forensic team did. When the police started talking about guns and bullets, Tiernan assured them that none were involved. At this point one of the investigators took more interest in Tiernan. In a few minutes he had learned more about magic than he though would ever be needed.
Calling the rest of his team together, and inviting Tiernan into the discussion, the five men picked the (former) wizard’s brain and then stood back in stunned silence. Finally the team leader voiced an unspoken but important question. “Mr. Keane, are there other ways for you magic blokes to kill people?”
“Well,” Tiernan started to reply, grinning at the silliness of the question, “I suppose we’ll have to use the typical non-magical weapons like guns and knives, since we’ve lost our powers.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Half of the team members were scratching their heads. Then everyone jumped when the radio carried by the team leader, whose name Tiernan finally saw was Parsons, squawked piercingly loud. Adjusting the volume and walking away a few steps, Parsons had a brief exchange with the person on the other end of the radio and then returned to fill in the team about the message.
“Ok, we have an ATM video in the van, I’ll go see what it has; the rest of you finish up here. Keane, you want to see the tape?”
Tiernan broke into a broad smile and followed after Parsons. “What will this tape show?” he asked as they approached the Mobile Crime Scene Investigations van.
“ATM tapes usually don’t show us much because they focus on the face of the customers, but we’re lucky, this is a newer model. It’s digital and has a second wide-angle camera to see more of the surrounding area.” As Keane and Parsons reached the van, Parsons introduced Tiernan to the two technicians and they entered the cramped vehicle.
The older technician pointed to a small screen and said, “Look here, inspector.”
The recording ran for about fifteen seconds during which they saw two small, distant figures. It appeared that one was on the ground and one standing. Then the prone figure got up, walked around the one already standing, and… a number of pedestrians walked in front of the camera, blocking the scene. However, it was plain to see that something had happened. Over the top of the pedestrians’ heads, one could notice a glow that lasted about two seconds. Thirteen seconds into the tape the pedestrians cleared and there was only one person remaining, lying mostly behind the dumpster, and not moving.
“There it is, sir. Not much, but it gives us the time and...what’s wrong with him?” The technician was pointing to Tiernan, who looked stunned.
Parsons turned and asked the same question.
“Officer Parsons, how reliable are the times on these pictures?” Tiernan was pointing to the time stamp along the bottom edge of the television.
“They’re quite accurate. The banks need that sort of rubbish for legal purposes. Why do you ask?”
Thinking for a moment, and then pointing to the time recorded at the start of the incident, Tiernan gave the officers, and himself, the reason for his astonished look.
“Look, the murder starts at 5:18 pm, according to the time on the tape. But we wizards lost our powers three minutes earlier at 5:15. I’m certain that was the time because I had just signed out of work. Even if the tape, or our time clock, is off by a minute it still shows that at least one wizard remains with his power, and the curse he used was a particularly nasty one. I think you have to give this consideration.” Tiernan was beaming, and he could not wait to call his brother. He also realized Harry needed to know about this.
“Nice work, Mr. Keane,” An impressed Parsons commented to Tiernan.
Elementary, Parsons. Tiernan had the good sense to keep this comment to himself.
The lab technician mumbled something about how we would have seen it, sooner or later.
Tuesday, 19 January 1999
George nudged Ginny at seven thirty the next morning to get ready for work. It was not necessary; she had been awakened thirty minutes earlier by the sound of a jack-hammer below her window. George now heard it, also, and was peaking out of the curtains.
“Those gits! Someone’s knocking down the wall to Diagon Alley. I gotta run down to the shop.” George disappeared and a minute later, as Ginny was wondering what to wear, her brother ran out the front door after tripping over Ron’s leg. Cursing, George pulled the door shut and was gone for the day.
Realizing she had nothing clean to wear, Ginny took out her wand to throw a few cleansing spells on her outfit from the previous day. She stopped midway through the first. “Damn! Harry, what am I going to wear today?”
“Mmmm, go like that.” Harry was not even looking at what Ginny was wearing.
“Right, Harry. Me showing up like this at Downing Street would send the press into a frenzy.”
Turning and putting his glasses on, Harry saw that Ginny was wearing an old t-shirt of Fred’s. “Oh, sorry Gin. Uh, I don’t know. Did Hermione bring anything with her?”
“Oh Harry, go back to sleep, I’ll figure something out.” Ginny had quickly determined that Harry’s free advice was worth its price. Looking through Fred’s closet and dresser, Ginny managed to put together enough clean and respectable cloths to make it through the day. She would have to ask Mary Thompson, or better yet one of the maids, where to shop and how to...
HARRY! Get up, we have a problem!” Ginny called from the loo.
“Whaa? You just told me to go back to bed.” Harry clamped his pillow over his head.
“Harry, if everything magical is gone, what happened to Gringott’s?”
A long moan came out from under the pillow. “Ok, I’ll see what I can find out. Just wake me when you leave.”
“No, Harry! Go now. What if our galleons are sitting on the street?”
“Ginny, if that were the case, we’d be much too late anyway...Ok, ok, I’ll go check.” A few minutes later Harry, who had a much easier time finding clothing he fit into, said goodbye to Ginny and headed out to see what disasters had befallen them today.
Ginny’s ride appeared at eight thirty and promptly carried her to Smith Street to obtain her permanent employee ID. Following her new check-in process, she first signed in with the receptionist in the same building she had been questioned a week before. Proceeding to the security lab for finger printing and a mug shot, Ginny was happy to learn that an attached yellow note on her clearance form required her to fill in nothing more than her name and date of birth. Two minutes later she received her security badge, a stern warning to wear it at all times, instructions to report in if it is lost or stolen, and an escort to show her the route to take every day.
Entering 10 Downing Street, she was told to keep her things in the employee locker room. Shedding her coat, Ginny received an ugly glare from the lady who had identified herself as the manager of all staff positions.
“Ms. Weasley, I will give you information on the proper attire for working here. You will have until the end of the week to so outfit yourself. If you do not, your employment will be terminated.”
Ginny Opened her mouth to explain her problem, but the matron held up her hand saying, “No excuses, and no exceptions. Now, can you find your way from here?”
Assuring her immediate “boss” that she could, Ginny headed upstairs and ran into a very cheerful Mary Thompson.
“Good morning Ginny. I was thinking last night. You probably aren’t carrying much with you.” Then observing her wardrobe, Mary continued, “Yes, based on what you’re wearing I would say you brought nothing with you.” Mary’s smile and light ribbing kept Ginny from panicking. Again, she tried to explain what her situation was but Mary had other ideas.
“Ginny, I’ve arranged for you to receive your first paycheck in advance. You can pick it up during your lunch break. There are a number of banks in the area who would probably be honored to have your account. Here’s a note explaining who and what you are. I don’t think you’ll be able to open an account without it. Rebecca is playing in her room. You know the routine, I’ll be back this afternoon.”
The whirlwind of instructions left Ginny partly confused. Pocketing the note, and heading to Rebecca’s room, she was greeted like the previous morning. “Hi Ginny, play today?” Rebecca asked with an unusually big smile.
“Becca! You called me ‘Ginny,’ that’s wonderful. So, what would you like to do first?” The few times Ginny and Rebecca had talked prior to this day, Ginny had been addressed as “Nini.”
Harry went through the Leakey Cauldron and noticed a couple familiar faces. Both acknowledged him, but not with the enthusiasm he had enjoyed in prior meetings. Almost forgetting about what happened yesterday, Harry was blasted back into reality when he exited out the back of the pub and found a Muggle construction crew, or perhaps they were a demolition crew, tearing down what used to be the magical brick wall. Since they were almost finished, Harry waited the last few minutes and was then one of the first to enter the Alley.
What Harry saw staggered him. It was immediately obvious that many buildings had been held together with magic, in one form or another. The debris in the Alley that had fallen off of buildings was a meter high in some places. The Apothecary and Quality Quidditch supplies stores, the first two stores Harry saw, were missing large parts of the buildings’ facades. Some buildings had their owners and/or managers standing around, fewer still were those that were trying to salvage their goods.
Flourish & Blott’s looked relatively undamaged until Harry peered into the window and saw thousands of books that had fallen off collapsed shelves. The Magical Menagerie that had sold Hedwig to Hagrid had its front door open and the owner was shoveling dead magical creatures into a large rubbish bin. The smell was far worse than usual and made Harry gag.
Hagrid! I have to find out about him. Harry thought with a twinge of guilt and despair.
Madam Malkin’s was the first place that appeared completely undamaged. This was not too surprising; most of the work done there was still performed by hand. Fortescue’s sweets shop had a small river of melted Ice Cream flowing through the crack under the front door.
Then there was Gringotts. Quite a few people had gathered around the front of the building expecting the doors to open. Harry had no such misconception about being able to do any sort of transactions. There were a few humans working at the bank, but Harry did not see them, inside or out. The big question everyone was asking was, what had happened to the treasures stored below the street? Millions, perhaps billions, of galleons, sickles, and knuts may have become unreachable in an instant.
Harry was relieved to see three Muggle police officers walk up to guard the bank; hopefully they could control any mob that might make trouble. Abandoning any hope of recovering his funds soon “ if ever - Harry continued down the road towards Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes to see if George needed help. The scene there was not quite what Harry expected.
Even though the hour was early, a fair size crowd had gathered around the front of the joke shop. Harry was certain this was due entirely to the fact that George was standing on a collapsible table, telling the listeners about Wizard’s jokes and gadgets. But even more amazingly, he was selling things to Muggles despite the fact that nothing performed as advertised. Actually, nothing worked at all. Harry thought this was brilliant; soon George spotted him and introduced Harry as another former wizard, leaving out, much to Harry’s relief, his last name. Retreating into the shop drew more people than Harry (or George) thought could ever fit in.
Soon the crowd became rowdy and George had to ask Harry to help him close up lest the customers destroy what little stock remained. Pushing the crowds out of the store, Harry stuck around with George a few more hours, until they were not worried about vandalism. Nevertheless, George was ecstatic about the Muggle money he had earned. Giving Harry a share of his earnings, the two made their way back to the flat after a brief stop to pick up some food.
Awakening to an empty apartment, Ron and Hermione dragged themselves out of bed just as Harry and George were at a small convenience store picking up lunch. Ron sat at the small bar that doubled as a kitchen/dining table and watched Hermione drag herself over to him.
“Morning, love.” Ron said with every ounce of sincerity he could muster, but it still came out rather weak.
Hermione plopped herself into the next chair over and immediately started organizing herself for the day. “Ron, what should we do about my parents? I have to admit, we could use their help now; but I’m still not certain I want it. What do you think?”
What Ron thought was that he wanted to go back to bed for another day. Fortunately for him, Ron did not suggest that. “Well, why don’t we see if they will take us to lunch or something...WHAT?
Hermione had started laughing when Ron mentioned food. Kissing him on the forehead, Hermione stood up and pulled Ron’s face to her chest. This sensation, not all together unpleasant, woke Ron up faster than he thought possible. Smiling at her husband, Hermione sat back on the chair and thought. “Ok, that may be a good idea. If we lunch near the Ministry building I can pop into the office and see Keric. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.”
Ron echoed the sentiment, “Right, it looks like a Quidditch career is out for me.”
Hermione realized that Ron’s job situation was far more serious than hers. They talked for a while about what they could do, but the conversation meerly depressed Ron. After a half-hour or so, George and Harry returned with food and four copies of his door key for his guests. They decided not to wait for the evening to share their stories with Ginny, but rather started right away. Each told where each was, how they experienced the event, who, if anyone was hurt.
Well into this conversation Hermione gasped and brought up someone everyone had forgotten about: Tonks. Harry suggested that he and Ron cab over to the Ministry building to see if they can get in and find her address. She was living in London but no one had any idea where.
George was thinking a little bit ahead and made a slightly different suggestion. “Look, we’re going to need money until we can get into Gringotts. Ron, how ‘bout you go back to the shop with me, I had a lot of luck selling our junk to Muggles. I could use a hand. Hermione can go with Harry; if Tonks needs help she could stay a while.”
No one was particularly thrilled but it made the most sense. So Ron and Hermione went off to get ready until Hermione made the same discovery about clothing Ginny had a few hours earlier.
Hermione and Ron had forgotten all about Tom and Jeannie Granger.
Ginny was surprised to see Jeff Benton appear at the family room door at eleven that morning. He did not look very happy, when he made his announcement Ginny understood why.
“Ms. Weasley, the PM wants to see you in the parlor for a few minutes. I’ll watch Rebecca while you’re gone.” The expression on Benton’s face made Ginny laugh, so she made a quick exit. I few seconds later she was knocking on the parlor door, still thinking of Benton’s facial expression.
Calling her in, the Prime Minister took one look at her face and chuckled. “I though you’d find that amusing, Ginny. Benton believes that all living creatures under the age of 18 are not ‘potty trained.’”
Inviting Ginny to sit, Thompson used a remote to switch on the large TV in the parlor and start a recording. “Ginny, while I was off doing my interview circuit this morning, so was someone you may know.”
Watching the TV, Ginny let out a gasp when she saw Harry’s Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia being interviewed by a local station. As the interview progressed, Ginny’s body language answered any question Thompson had about the Dursley’s credibility. After it was over, Ginny fought back tears as she told Thompson the truth about Harry’s life on Privet Drive.
The Prime Minister looked grave as he shook his head. “Ginny, there are three strategies politicians use for dealing with this type of rubbish. We can ignore it, we can refute it, or we can attack it. You know Harry far better than I, what do you think he’d want to do?”
Ginny really did not know what Harry would want to do. A year ago he would have dismissed it, in spite of the protestations he would receive from Hermione, Ron, and herself. “I really don’t know either, Mr. Prime Minister. I can talk with him this evening and ask, if you like.”
“I think it would be better if we had an answer right away. Would you ring Harry and ask him to come straight down? I’ll have one of my media people work with him if he decides to act. And even if he doesn’t want to be on camera, he can fill us in on the true details we’ll need to address this. Would you mind?”
Harry and Hermione were in a cab, about to arrive at the Ministry building when the mobile phone started ringing. Hermione watched Harry’s expression change from happy to something quite the opposite. It was obvious he was speaking with Ginny and wanted nothing to do with whatever she was suggesting. Finally, Harry gave in and ended the connection.
“Hermione, I have to go to Downing Street. Would you rather search for Tonks or meet the Prime Minister?” Harry’s voice indicated that HE would rather look for Tonks.
As much as Hermione wanted to go with Harry, she told him to go on ahead while she would find what she could. Harry gave her the phone and Hermione exited the cab, telling the driver, “He’ll pay.” Waving goodbye, Hermione disappeared into the crowd.
Sighing, Harry gave the cabbie new directions. “Smart and Downing Street, please.”
Harry ended up spending the rest of the afternoon at the Prime Minister’s quarters. Half the time he was with the media group, embarrassed beyond belief, telling them about his childhood. Ginny and Rebecca tried to stay with him but Harry found them to distracting so they went back to the private quarters. By three, Harry had finished his “interrogation,” as he called it. Joining Ginny and Rebecca he finally got to relax for a half hour before he remembered to ring Hermione and see what she had found.
“Hello?”
“Hi Hermione, it’s Harry.”
“Hi Harry, you sound down, what’s happening? Another meeting with the cabinet?” Hermione laughed and Harry could hear someone else in the background.
“Find Tonks, did you? Sounds like her in the background.”
“Yes, it was quite easy, but I had to make all sorts of sordid promises to the Muggle police to let me into the building, but after that it was easy.” Harry heard Tonks laughing and then yell, “Hi Harry,” in the background.
“What are you going to do now?” Harry asked, rather apathetically Hermione thought.
“Harry, are you ok?”
Harry thought she was beginning to sound like the busy-body Hogwarts Hermione from their first year. “Yeah, just fine. I’ll go back to George’s with Ginny later. Did you talk to your parents yet?” Now who’s being a busy-body, Potter?
“Oi! I forgot, Harry, thanks for reminding me. Oh, and you should see Tonks, she’s been through quite a change.” Harry noted that Hermione picked up one of Ron’s expressions, Oi! And what was up with Tonks?
“Well, I’ll see you later.” Harry set the phone down and notice Ginny was watching him. “What’s wrong?”
“You seem uptight, Harry. Was the interview that bad?”
“What do you think? I had to relive the worst ten years of my life.” But Harry was far more concerned about something else that he had not spoken to anyone about.
Ginny saw the signs that Harry was holding something back. She had become very familiar with them over the past eight years. Whispering something into Rebecca’s ear, Ginny sat back and watched as Rebecca ran to Harry and threw her arms around his neck and gave him a huge wet kiss on his cheek. “Wuv you, Hare-we.” Giggling, Rebecca ran away and hid in her closet.
That got Harry smiling. Wiping Rebecca’s saliva off his cheek then onto his trousers, Harry cheered up again, until he remembered what he had to do. Seeing Harry look despondent again, Ginny tried to engage him in play with Rebecca. Neither knew that Mary Thompson had started watching the three of them from around the corner just before Rebecca had kissed Harry.
Ginny’s attempts over the next few minutes to both cheer Harry and occupy Rebecca were failing. Finally Ginny told Harry to relax in the family room, she would be off in less than two hours and then they could talk. Backing away so no one would see her, Mary walked ahead of Harry to the family room and waited for him to arrive. She almost missed Harry, he had turned away from the room upon seeing Mary, but she called him back and invited him to sit with her for tea.
Making small talk was not one of Harry’s strong points and it showed with his stilted conversation. Finally Mary simple laid it out. “Harry, what’s bothering you? Is it what happened yesterday or something else?”
“Oh, it’s a lot of stuff. The interview opened up plenty of old wounds. That sort of thing.”
Mary saw through the half-truthful answer. If Harry was not good at small-talk, he was worse at lying. “Harry, I taught for ten years and worked in counseling fifteen more, and I’m a mother. What aren’t you telling me?”
She’s as bad as Hermione. Harry thought, but he still couldn’t bring himself to tell a stranger what had happened before he returned yesterday. Not being a witch, Harry was even more certain she would not understand. Fortunately for Harry, Mary was a very good counselor.
“Harry, I know little about what you lost yesterday, and less about your past, but I can tell something’s eating away at you. I also know you’re going to kill yourself holding it in.”
Harry’s head came up in surprise, not because Mary knew that he knew something “big,” but because of her statement about killing himself. Guessing this was what drove Harry’s last set of expressions, Mary pushed harder.
“I don’t mean suicide, Harry, I’m talking about stress and hypertension. They’re two of the biggest killers in our society. Maybe you didn’t have them as a wizard, but you’re not a wizard any longer.”
Now Mary could tell by Harry’s reaction that something she had just said was very significant. But she had also brought up three hard-hitting subjects: Suicide, stress and hypertension, and Harry not being a wizard. She had to zero in on the one that was bothering him. Unfortunately, Harry was not cooperating, remaining stubbornly closed mouth.
Through trial and error, and persistence, Mary was able to get enough information out of Harry to tell her the problem was related to being (or not being) a wizard. Hiding her questions within seemingly benign chit-chat, Mary learned that Harry was apprehensive about living like a Muggle and not having Ginny able to help his constant battles with guilt and depression. This in itself was enough for Mary to understand much more about Harry.
Having talked for almost ninety minutes, the only other important item Mary could draw out of Harry was something about having to “do something,” but not here, “somewhere else.” Reaching a brick wall, Mary changed the subject and brought up things that should have made Harry happy, like his wedding and the end of the war. Neither of these subjects changed Harry’s gloomy demeanor.
At six o’clock Ginny was finished for the day. Walking to the family room she found Harry watching Muggle TV and sipping tea with Mary. “Ready to go, Harry?”
Thanking Mary for the tea and their “conversation,” Harry and Ginny walked away holding hands. Outside Number 10, Harry saw Tiernan waving and calling his name from the far side of Smith Street. Asking their driver to wait, Harry ran over and talked to Tiernan. The conversation lasted a few minutes while Tiernan related everything the police had discovered. The only missing part was who. Thanking Tiernan for the information, Harry gave him the mobile phone number to use if he had more information.
By 6:45 Harry and Ginny had returned to the twin’s flat, finding the rest of the group from the previous night and Hermione’s parents. They also saw James being held by someone unfamiliar, though she did remind Harry of…
“Tonks! Wow, what a change!” Ginny took Harry’s words right out of his mouth.
“Yeah, Ginny, something else, isn’t it? I bet Remus will get a thrill out of these.” Tonks laughed, pointing at her chest. She was certainly still the same on the inside, but whatever Monday had done to her, there was a general consensus that her new look was amazing.
“I think this might be what I would have looked like if I hadn’t been a Metamorphmagi. I can actually see a lot more of this version of ‘me’ in James.”
Harry thought this would take some getting used to; the fact that she acted and talked the same would help. Looking at the others present, Harry noticed that Hermione seemed fairly relaxed around her parents. He hoped the reconciliation would work out.
Hermione told Harry and Ginny that her parents were taking everyone out to dinner, and afterwards, her mother would take Ginny and her out to shop for clothes they both desperately needed. Tom Granger planned a similar outing for Ron and Harry. This last bit of news amused everyone; the flat was becoming a tad ripe with the odor of unwashed clothes “ another Muggle activity they would have to learn.
The evening turned out to be enjoyable for everyone, even Harry. The men returned home from dinner and shopping at nine, the women at ten-thirty. After thanking the Granger’s, and their departure for the hotel, Harry said he had to talk with everyone. By the tone of his voice they all knew it was something serious, but then all Harry would say is that they needed to get the rest of the family from Hogsmeade as soon as possible.
Ron suggested that Hermione ask her parents to go, but it would be a two day trip, there and back again by car, and Hermione did not want to ask so much of them. Finding no other solution, however, Hermione begrudgingly placed the call to her parents and asked for their help. Tom Granger immediately offered to drive up and bring everyone back, but then thought better of so much night driving in unfamiliar country. After a few more minutes debating the options, Tom decided to catch a train to Carlisle and rent a car for the rest of the journey.
With that settled, everyone wanted more answers from Harry while Tonks tried to get James to sleep. Harry filled them in on Kingsley’s murder and where the investigation stood, and then found himself answering questions.
Hermione got the first one in. “Harry, what went on with you at St. Mungo’s? What happened with Percy?”
“Percy will recover, but he might have a lengthy recuperation. Someone should stop by St. Mungo’s tomorrow to be sure he doesn’t check himself out. We don’t want to lose him again.” Harry hesitated. Everyone could tell he had more to say.
“Also, I spent a lot of time with Snape.”
Gasps, followed by questions from everyone, immediately overwhelmed Harry, but he was too tired to care.
The fact that Snape had survived at all greatly disturbed Hermione. “He has no body to return to, what will happen to him?”
“Snape still has something to do, but I’m not exactly sure what it is,” was the only answer Harry would offer. He then continued answering the basic questions, he then told about Merlin’s world and their guess about the Chamber of Secrets. Unlike the first piece of information Harry had shared, this brought silence.
“Harry, are you sure?” Hermione asked gently. “Patty and I made that connection, too, but we’ve all been told that Salazar Slytherin built the chamber in the eleventh century. Moody believed it wasn’t a big deal, even if it is true.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Well, maybe he was the first to reoccupy it, not actually build it. I didn’t ask.”
“What do you mean? You said Merlin was dead, who would you ask?” George questioned.
“The cave, or Chamber, is very powerful. It looks like Merlin placed a great deal of his power into it. I think he did it as a way to run his world, if that makes any sense. When Snape and I were in it together, even after Merlin had died, we could get answers to anything we asked. We met one of Merlin’s sons, Galen, as part of an answer to a question. I mean, we would ask a question out loud and someone would appear to answer it. When the question was completely answered the figure disappeared.” Mentioning Galen only seemed to confuse everyone, but Harry pressed on the final two points he needed to tell everyone.
“Snape and I stumbled onto more of the caves powers after we talked to Galen. He told us that after what he thought was Merlin’s death, he was able to enter the world through the minds of the people Merlin had taken with him. Offering to help them return to the outside world wasn’t too hard after they heard that Merlin was forcing people to join them.” As Harry approached the key part of his story he had to stand and walk around to keep from falling asleep.
“Galen brought most of the people back from ‘Merlin’s Paradise,’ as he called it. A few stayed behind and a few died while trying to leave, but Galen did not explain why. The people who returned had somehow gained the power of magic and went off to start a small wizard village in the mountains, somewhere around Hogsmeade.”
“Harry, what happened to those who stayed?” Hermione asked.
“I never asked. But we could still find out, I guess, if we had a way to return to the other world.”
“Harry, did Galen mention if all the people he brought back had powers?” Hermione seemed unusually interested in this part of the story.
“Yeah, I think so, except the few that died. Why?”
“Well, Harry, I was just wondering, have you tried to perform any magic since returning?”
Harry froze in his tracks, instantly awake, having made the connection Hermione was suggesting. “You mean, because I returned, like those other people, I might still be a wizard?” Hermione just nodded and Harry noticed that everyone was watching him.
“But, when I returned I felt everything leave me. How could I?” Harry was acting almost as if he did not want to believe he might still have his powers.
“I don’t know, Harry.” Hermione admitted.
Ron stood up and went over to Harry. “Well, mate, why don’t you just try it? What could it hurt?”
Now Harry felt incredibly stupid. Walking into Fred’s room he picked up his wand, returned to face everyone, and said, “lumos.”
Five adults cheered upon seeing the light, they also woke James, and nearly crushed Harry with their hugs. Then Ron, who had been so eager for Harry to test Hermione’s theory, made an unexpected suggestion.
“Harry, I don’t think anyone else should know you’re back to being a wizard, just yet.”
Ginny, who was standing next to Ron, swatted him on the back of his head. “Ronald, that’s the stupidest suggestion you’ve ever made. Give me one good reason Harry shouldn’t tell anyone?”
But it was George who came to Ron’s rescue. “Gin-gin, I think Ron’s right. At least until we find out who killed Kingsley. There’s another wizard out there willing to use a killing curse. Having Harry keep this secret might be a wild card for us.”
Conceding Ron and George’s point, Ginny looked apologetically to Ron and muttered, “Sorry, Ron.”
Everyone accepted Ron and George’s position, even Harry who was happy he could now do something other than simply sit around.
Earlier on the 19th, Scotland Yard had presented a high priority notice to Downing Street concerning their preliminary investigation into Kingsley Shacklebolt’s murder. The highlights of the report said that Shacklebolt was murdered by a wizard, and that the murder occurred after the 5:15 events that had stripped the Wizarding community of their powers. The conclusion, based partially on Tiernan Keane’s observations, pointed to a single, powerful wizard still being in or near the “Ministry of Magic” building. Since the investigation was only in a preliminary stage, few interviews had been conducted.
Unfortunately for those concerned, who happened to be the Country of England, and probably the continent of Europe, and possibly the entire world, the report was lost by an unnamed secretary until the next day. A notation in pink ink, which Brian Thompson noticed on the side of the memo, created a spectacular din on Downing Street bright and early Wednesday morning when the Prime Minister found the memo mixed in with other papers.
After the spectacular chewing-out from his boss, Benton told the Prime Minister that he had received a call from Rufus Scrimgeour, the wizard’s Minister of Magic. Scrimgeour wanted to meet with the Prime Minister at his earliest convenience.
“Ah, that’s good news. I have an hour free at eight thirty, would you see if he’s available then?”
Benton said yes and left to make the appointment.
So started the day, 20 January 1999, at number 10 Downing Street.
Wednesday morning dawned late this time of year in England. Regrettably, the law of raising children demand that many more than one must wake up when the baby awakens. James Lupin was turning out to be one of those rare children who slept peacefully through the night “ for six straight hours “ and then stayed awake for the next eighteen. If we do the math properly, we see that James finally retired at eleven o’clock on the 19th; adding six hours to that time brings us to five in the morning on the 20th.
Harry woke with James, Tonks, and Hermione, but they somehow managed to limit the sleep deprivation damage to their select group. Changing James, Tonks looked pleadingly at Harry who took James and pointed back to Fred’s bed. Tonks gave Harry one of those grateful looks that only an exhausted new mother can give.
Noticing Harry and James heading out of the flat, Hermione quietly got up, grabbed a couple blankets, and joined them on the landing.
“Morning Mrs. Weasley. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Aren’t you a little cold in that?” Hermione was only wearing one of George’s t-shirts.
Yawning, Hermione managed a smile. “You know, I always sleep well with Ron. When you consider how loudly he snores, it really is quite a feat. But I wanted some quiet time this morning so I thought I’d keep you and Jame company.”
Harry laughed, both at Hermione’s quip and James who was touching Harry’s lightening scar and saying “ba ba.” “I guess that’s baby talk for ‘scar’.”
“May I?” Hermione asked as she took James from Harry.
“Thinking about the, uh, baby, you know, last year?”
“No… well, maybe a little.”
Hermione didn’t say anything, but she did move over, right next to Harry, returned James, and placed her head on his shoulder while holding onto his arm. Harry had seen Hermione like this a couple times when she was handling difficult problems. While still brilliant, caring, and a wonderful friend, she seemed more insecure in some ways. Putting his arm around Hermione, Harry pulled her closer, still holding James on his lap.
“Something on your mind?”
“Just change, Harry. I’m really not very good at handling unexpected events.”
“No one could have been prepared for what happened Monday. Don’t you think you’re being hard on yourself?”
“It’s not just that, Harry,” Hermione was starting to shiver and moved herself closer to Harry, “I miss the way things used to be. You know, when we were at Hogwarts. Not that I’d like to relive the last few months there.”
“I can’t imagine reliving that, but I can’t imagine those seven years any other way, either.” Hermione and Harry had three blankets wrapped around themselves and James, and were sitting on a forth. James would watch whoever was talking, then try to grab the mouth was open.
“Any ideas what you’ll do when this mess is resolved?”
“Nah, I’d hardly gotten started on my last career move. I still want to play Quidditch, but…”
Harry trailed off when he noticed James was acting cold. “We need to get James inside; it’s too cold out here.” Harry said, standing with James wrapped in a blanket.
Those sleeping in the parlor soon learned that Harry and Hermione had forgotten to take a door key with them.
Again at eight thirty, Ginny was driven off to Downing Street, feeling better than she had in a while. The fact that Harry had been able to regain his power was hope for the rest of them; she couldn’t wait to tell the Thompson’s the news. Ginny signed in and attached her badge on her new outfit. Proceeding to the residence, she crossed paths with the “wicked witch,” as she called the matron. Receiving an approving nod for her outfit continued to improve Ginny’s disposition.
Seeing Jeff Benton, Ginny stuck her head into his open door. “Good morning, Mr. Benton. How’s your day been so far?”
Scowling, Benton told Ginny about the misplaced memo and Thompson’s harsh words to him. They chatted for a few minutes about their jobs and families. Benton was particularly interested in everything that had happened the past few days, and wizards in general. Ginny suggested they have lunch together; she could fill him in on more details of the Wizarding world. Jumping up when she heard the clock chime ten, Ginny waved a hasty goodbye and ran to the second Floor.
Benton had not mentioned Scrimgeour’s visit.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Ginny went straight to Rebecca’s room and found her playing in bed. This was unusual, even for Ginny’s limited knowledge of the family rules and practices. Usually Rebecca was dressed and fed by this time.
Looking around the room, Ginny picked out an outfit and told Rebecca to get changed in the loo. Running with her clothes to comply with the directions, Rebecca disappeared and returned quickly, showing Ginny how well she had changed.
“Wonderful, Becca! You’re fast today, aren’t you?” Ginny adjusted Rebecca’s jumper and was tightening her shoe laces when she noticed it. Rebecca can’t tie her own shoes! Years of habit were difficult to break and Ginny reached for her wand, then returned the useless stick to her pocket. How else could Rebecca gotten changed so quickly if another person wasn’t around? Mary said it usually takes her ten minutes. And where is everyone?
Calling Rebecca over, Ginny told her to hide under her bed until she or her parents came back for her. Rebecca thought it was a game and did as she was told.
Looking around the room, Ginny cursed like one of her brothers when she saw there was no phone. Walking down the hallway toward the family room, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Mary and Brian Thompson sitting on the love seat, speaking casually with a guest. Forgetting her manners and etiquette, Ginny entered the room with a sigh of relief.
“Good morning! I was wondering where everyone was. I have some wonderful news, Harry didn’t...” Ginny stopped when she realized the Thompson’s were not responding to her. At first she thought they were upset by her breach of etiquette; then she heard a voice she had last heard at the Leaver’s Day ceremony.
“Please join us, Ms. Weasley. Brian and Mary have told me much about you. Isn’t that right, Brian?”