Harry Potter 7 (my version...though not finished)

Chapter 1: Surprise Guests

At number 4 Privet Drive, Harry looked forlornly out his bedroom window for what may be the last time.  Dumbledore was gone…never again would Harry go up to his office to discuss how important Harry’s destiny would be.  No more would Harry hear the wise voice of the only parent-like figue he had left.  After Dumbledore’s funeral, Harry and his friends parted ways, for Harry had to return to the Dursley’s one last time.  The Dursleys actually seemed to be cheerful when they came to pick Harry up from the train station.  They also knew that it was to be Harry’s last return.  When they learned of Dumbledore’s death, Petunia turned deathly white, and moved her slender hand to her heart.
“What does this mean Harry?” she asked with earnest fright.  She knew more of the wizarding world than she would have admitted to.  Never had Harry ever seen her so scared. 
“It means that Voldemort will contiue to murder and turn people to his side.  We are not safe anymore-none of us,” Harry added as his uncle’s face turned red and he was about to kick Harry out right then and there. 
“So, does that mean that Voldy-something will come after us whether we let you stay or not?” Uncle Vernon asked, his eyes too, slightly bulged with fright. 
“Not exactly.  No one knows who he’s going to attack…or where or when for that manner,” Harry replied.  “He doesn’t exactly know that I’m here, I’m Unplottable and Protected when I am staying here.  As long as I’m with you, and he doesn’t know who you are, I’m not going to be a problem.”
With that, Petunia and Vernon calmed down and welcomed Harry back into their home.  They allowed Harry to do pretty much whatever he pleased, even giving him some kindness and sympathy when Harry went into his frequent, depressed moods.  They became less boastful to their neighbors, lest they attract other, uninvited observers.  Harry spent most of his days sitting by the window, going through his photo album, and recollecting the nights, that his only “family” had died on. 
Finally, on this day that Harry was sitting and staring forlornly out the window, Hedwig came to the window with a scrap of parchment tied to her right leg.  Harry fed Hedwig an owl treat, and in return, Hedwig nipped at Harry’s nose affectionately.  Harry untied the parchment and read:
Harry!
Charlie and Fleur’s wedding is taking place this Saturday, in case you had forgotten.  I hope that you will rethink about your decision of leaving Hogwarts.  I hope that you will decide to return-that is, if the school remains open.  Hermoine will be here on Thursday, and will be staying throughout the rest of vacation.  Mum would like to see you on Wednesday to see how you are doing on your birthday.  Can’t wait to see you mate!!!
-Ron
Wednesday was today, and Harry had yet to pack his trunk with every possession that he had in that room.  He wasn’t planning on coming back to Privet Drive ever again.  He had done what Dumbledore had wanted him to do.  Harry felt a large, sinking feeling in his stomach as he pictured Dumbledore’s figure in front of him.  How could he have let Snape get away…he was so close, if only Dumbledore had taught Harry Occlumency.  No!  He couldn’t blame Dumbledore for anything.  After all he had done for Harry, it didn’t seem right to be angry with him. 
Harry flicked his wand, and various objects flew neatly ino his trunk.  He pointed to the wall where he had one lonely poster hanging.  It was a Weird Sisters poster, a Christmas gift from Luna one year.  As he looked at the moving figures in the poster, Harry’s mind wandered to Dumbledore’s office on the night that he died.  Harry remembered seeing the painting of Dumbledore on the wall along with the other deceased Headmasters.  Harry also recalled that the figures in the painting could also talk and communicate with anyone in the same room as their paintings (a certain Phineas was remembered).  Could it be that Dumbledore could still help Harry in his quest after all?  It was a question he would have to ask Hermoine about.  If he could still talk to Dumbledore, then it would give Harry a reason to return to Hogwarts, that is, if it remained open. 
After Dumbledore’s death, people from the ministry came and went around asking the students their views about whether the school should remain open.  Scrimgeour tried to ask Harry about his opinion, but Professor McGonagall sent him away.  Professor McGonagall had become one of Harry’s last allies.  Dumbledore had, in fact, told Minerva about his departures from the castle…and what he had been teaching Harry.  A couple hours after Dumbledore’s death, Professor McGonagall called Harry into what had become her office, and tried to calm Harry down. 
“Harry”, McGonagall said softly as Harry closed the door behind him.  “I am terribly sorry that you had to witness what happened tonight.  As you know, Professor Dumbledore had faith in Severus.  You may not know, however, that Albus had, up until he left tonight, told me of his departures from school, and what he had been teaching you.”
“He told you?” Harry asked, astonished.  “He told me that he had told no one of his leavings, or what he was doing.”
“Potter, Albus, I think was actually waiting for something like this to happen.  He knew more than he told you or me.  If you don’t believe that I knew where you were going with him-yes, with him, then answer these two questions for me: where is that horcrux that you were planning to retrieve and destory, and why wasn’t he capable of defending himself in the tower.” McGonagall questioned, with an all-knowing look in her eyes.  Harry’s eyes grew wide, and hating himself, they swelled with tears.  Horrible scenes flashed across his mind: Dumbledore drinking the terrible potion, Dumbledore weak with his language slurred, Dumbledore collapsing on the ground in Hogsmeade, Dumbledore killed and crashing through the window to the ground.  McGonagall, also being a wonderful Occlumens, could see what Harry was seeing.  Her eyes filled with tears as she slumped against the office wall. 
“I can’t believe he’d go through all that for something that he wasn’t even sure he’d find,” McGonagall started.  “Did you get it Harry?  Was it the horcrux he was looking for?”
“I-It was a fake,” Harry said, anger rising up on him.  “Someone else had already taken it to destroy it.  I don’t know if they ever did.”  With this, Harry pulled out the fake locket and handed it to McGonagall.  She read through the note slowly, as if trying to absorb any hidden information placed there. 
“R.A.B.,” she started, “I have a couple of names that come to mind.  A couple, you may end up being interested in, Harry.  But before I tell you my theories, I must research them a little first.”  After that comment, McGonagall allowed Harry to leave and grieve with his friends. 
A knock on Harry’s bedroom door brought him back to reality.  His cousin Dudley walked in looking miserable.
“ Mum and Dad decided to throw you a going away/birthday party.  Don’t think it’s because they feel bad and they like you now.  It’s because they’re happy and grateful that you’re finally going away for good,” Dudley said grudgingly.  He was upset that his human punching bag, though younger than him, would be leaving the house a year earlier than himself.  Dudley was now a slightly thinner, slightly less hairy looking Uncle Vernon.  He had grown about 5 more inches in the past year, and he was continuing to use his size to terrorize small children. 
“Ok, I’ll be right down,” Harry said, surprised that the Dursleys would even bother with him going away.  Harry cast a few more spells and his trunk filled.  Harry was the only thing left in his empty, bare room.  He levitated his trunk and directed it down the stairs into the hallway.  When he walked down the stairs, he was surprised to see more than just his aunt, uncle, and cousin around the kitchen table, which was decorated with balloons, banners, and delicious food.  Around the table were some of Harry’s close friends from the Order.  Professor Lupin was smiling and holding Tonks’ hand, Mad-Eye Moody and Professor McGonagall were talking softly to each other.  Harry at once knew that it wasn’t his aunt and uncle’s decision to have a party, but rather the decision of the Order. 
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!” the party guests shouted as Harry walked into the room.  Tonks ran up to greet Harry, embracing him in her arms. 
“How are you Harry?” Tonks said as her hair turned from purple to bubblegum pink. 
“Okay I guess,” Harry replied as he looked into all of the faces around the table.  Lupin was the next person to stand up.  His hair was grayer, and he looked more tired than ever as he wore robes that were also older and shabbier than before.  Lupin walked over to Harry and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. 
“Happy Birthday Harry,” Lupin said, looking skeptically at Harry.  He had a feeling that Harry was hiding what he was truly feeling from the rest of the group.  Harry, being well aware of Lupin’s close watches on him, knew exactly what Lupin was thinking. 
“I’ll talk to you later about it,” Harry whispered.  Harry had forgotten that he could tell Lupin about anything he had questions on or wanted to know more about.  Since Lupin had gone underground a lot to spy on the werewolves, Harry had lost almost all contact with him.  It lightened Harry to realize that there was at least one good friend of his dad’s left that would be able to talk to him and be on his side.  Lupin sat back down, and McGonagall’s turn was next.  Her appearance and manner startled and worried Harry more than anything else he had experienced so far this summer.  She had gotten thin-too thin, and she looked more tired and weak than Lupin did.  Her appearance reminded Harry of how Dumbledore had looked when Harry Apparated them both to Hogsmeade that terrible night.  She slowly rose from her chair and made the attempt to walk to Harry, but Harry, afraid that she wouldn‘t make it, had rushed up to where she stood. 
“Are you okay Harry?” Professor McGonagall asked, her voice thin and strained. “Yes, I am, I think,” Harry replied.  “Are you okay Professor?”  McGonagall patted Harry on the shoulder and looked at him with her green eyes. 
“I’ve been better Harry.  I have some things to tell you later, I will tell you as I am escorting you to the Burrow tonight,” McGonagall answered.  With that she sat back down looking as though standing up alone had drained her of her little strength.  Mad-Eye Moody stayed where he was, acknowledging Harry with a nod.  Mad-Eye cleared his throat and Harry’s aunt, uncle, and cousin came forward from their shadowed spot in the corner of the room. 
“Happy Birthday Harry,” they all said to him, slightly looking back over their shoulders to the party sitting behind them. 
“Thank you,” Harry replied, noticing their obvious fear of these unexpected guests. 
“Ok, enough of this,” Lupin said.  “It’s present time!”  Lupin handed Harry a package wrapped neatly in blue, starry paper.  Harry unwrapped it, and found a rather large, leatherbound book titled, Defensive Spells and How to Use Them Vol. 1. 
“Thank you Professor!” Harry exclaimed, excitement clearly visible in his eyes.  Tonks came forth next, with another book-shaped package.  Harry unwrapped it and found a shiny new copy of Spells and Enchantments for Aurors.  Since Dumbledore’s death, Harry had been trying to decide if he should go to Hogwarts for his final year so he could graduate and become an Auror for the Order.  This book would definitely help Harry in the long run. 
“Thank you Tonks,” Harry said, his eyes now bright and gleaming.  Tonks hugged Harry and returned to her seat.  McGonagall beckoned to Harry, and Harry walked to where she was seated. 
“Harry, I have two presents for you,” McGonagall said.  She drew forth a long, slim package from mid-air.  Harry opened it and found a glass case to protect his precious Firebolt. 
“Thank you Professor!” Harry said, truly thankful to have something that would protect his broom from danger.  Before he could say anything else, McGonagall conjured up another package.  It was kind of oval and very heavy. 
“Unwrap it carefully Harry,” she said, “try not to tip it over.”  Harry, growing more curious by the second, took no time in unwrapping the package.  What he found made his eyes well up with tears.  It was Dumbledore’s smooth pensieve basin.  Harry could not believe that he was actually holding it.  There was something in the basin too.  Harry just glanced at the swirling silver memories, and he saw himself with Dumbledore. 
“Are these…,” Harry couldn’t even finish his question, he was so sure of the answer.  He couldn’t stop himself from crying after knowing what he was holding in his hands.  McGonagall conjured up a chair next to hers and Harry sat down, still holding the Pensieve. 
“Yes, Harry,” McGonagall started, “those are Professor Dumbledore’s memories that he had emptied into the basin before he died.  He had intended for you to have them should something happen.  I have already looked through most of them so that I know them as well.  I want to be able to help you as much as I can on your journey, if we can call it that.  I will teach you how to empty a memory from your mind as well, as soon as I am strong enough to do so.  I know that Dumbledore would have wanted you to use these in your search for Voldemort.  I hope you like it.” 
“I love it Professor, thank you so much!” Harry said, grateful to have something that once belonged to his favorite teacher.  Mad-Eye Moody looked at his watch and suddenly stood up. 
“Harry, we have one more gift for you, but we’re going to have to Apparate to it.  You passed your test last week, didn’t you?” Moody asked, staring at Harry intently.  Harry had gone to take his test the week before with Ron and he and Ron had both passed it. 
“Yes, I can Apparate,” Harry said, slightly confused of what his gift could be. 
“Good,” Moody relied.  “I need you to Apparate to the 4th Floor of St. Mungo’s.  I’ll meet you there…do you think you can do it?”
“Sure,” Harry said, getting worried that one of his friends may be in there.  Harry concentrated on St. Mungo’s, took a step forward, felt like he was being compressed, and then he landed at St. Mungo’s.


Chapter 2: Unexpected Gift

Harry opened his eyes and found Moody standing next to him. 
“Not bad Potter,” Moody said as his one magical eye was swirling as he was looking around. 
“Where are we going, Sir?”Harry asked, extremely confused of what was going on.  Coming to St. Mungo’s wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Moody answered.  Moody led Harry down several narrow corridors.  After what seemed like forever, Moody stopped outside a door.  A file was on the door that said: “Walter Alcott, cursed in Dept. of Mysteries”. 
“This is it,” Moody said, opening the door.  He showed Harry into the room, but before he closed the door behind him, he put a “Do Not Disturb” sign of the door.  Harry walked into the room farther.  A man was lying on the bed.  He didn’t look like anyone Harry knew.  He had blond hair, and he was a rather large man, but he did look weak, and clearly cursed or afflicted with something terrible.  Moody walked in and stood beside Harry. 
“Sir, we don’t know him do we?” Harry asked, wondering why they were standing at the foot of some weird man’s bed.  Moody looked at his watch again. 
“You’ll see in a minute,” Moody replied, watching the man’s face.  Little by little, Harry saw the man’s face and shape change.  His facial features grew more gaunt and thin; his body the same.  The blonde hair that was once occupying the head had turned to longer, unkept, black hair, with a few scattered gray hairs in it.  The man named Walter Alcott had just turned into Harry’s beloved godfather.  Harry gasped and was so shocked that he remained where he stood.  How could Sirius be alive?  It’s been over a year since Harry saw his godfather slide beneath the veil.  Moody looked at his watch again, as if the timing was a little off. 
“Sir, is this really Sirius?” Harry questioned, still staring at the man sleeping.
“Yes, Potter, we brought him in here a couple months ago,” Moody answered.
“How did you even find him?  I thought he was dead,” Harry argued.  He could not believe that his only father-like figure was still alive. 
“We found him when Dumbledore sent us back into the Department of Mysteries to do some research.  He believed that Sirius was in fact still alive.  Well, some of the Order went in, along with a new member of the Order, an Auror named Walter Alcott.  We went to the room with the veil, and of course, saw nothing.  Lupin then, did a nice little spell, kind of a more powerful Accio spell, and Sirius slid part-way out of the curtain.  Lupin’s spell was not strong enough for Sirius to come out the whole way.  Walter then grabbed Sirius and pulled him out of the veil.  Walter had done well, until he let go of Sirius, and the veil brushed against his bare arm.  The veil had some kind of curse or something on it, and Alcott died soon after from the curse.”
“We picked Sirius up and carried out his body, as well as Alcott’s.  We brought them back to Headquarters.  We then brought him to St. Mungo’s.  Now that the Ministry knows that Peter Pettigrew is alive, Sirius was a freed man.  However, the doctors thought that it would be safer for Sirius if his identity was unknown, so as not to scare some of the confused patients.  So, we have been brewing a strong Polyjuice Potion that lasts more than 1 hour at a time.  He’s here now, safe and sound,” Moody finished.  Harry could not believe that Sirius had been here for months and no one had told him.
“How come you didn’t bring me here before now?  He was my godfather!  I should’ve been told!” Harry exclaimed, angry that the Order was still keeping secrets from him. 
“We didn’t want to tell you.  We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure that Sirius got out of the critical near-death stage.  We only found out a couple weeks ago that he had been hit by a very powerful Stunning spell, and that the veil did not kill him because Sirius had already seemed dead.  He’s getting better now, though.  He woke up for the first time a week ago, and he started talking 3 days ago.  All he could talk about was you, Harry,” Moody said, his voice softening.  Harry felt slightly better, knowing that the secrets were for the better, and that his godfather hadn’t suffered too much brain damage that he couldn’t remember Harry.  Moody conjured up a couple of chairs, and Harry moved one beside Sirius, and sat down watching Sirius’ face.  Moody sat in the other chair at the far end of the room.  Harry was hoping that Sirius would wake up.  He longed to hear the sometimes sarcastic voice, and he longed to see those eyes that seemed to know every thought that Harry was thinking. 
Minutes flew by without Harry even realizing that time had passed.  It wasn’t until after an hour and a half had gone, that Harry noticed that Sirius’ fingers were twitching, and his eyes started to flutter.  Harry grasped the hand of his godfather and watched him, as if taking his eyes away would make Sirius go back to sleep. 





Sirius’ eyes finally opened and Sirius turned his head to see who was holding his hand.  When he saw Harry, his mouth opened into a wide smile, and his eyes regained a bit of sparkle.  He tried to lift his head to see his godson a little better, but he wasn’t strong enough, and his head fell back to his pillow.  Harry released his godfather’s hand and bent down to raise his pillows so that he could see Harry better. 
“Harry,” Sirius breathed, his voice weak and pained.  Harry sat back down in his chair, and he became so happy that his eyes grew watery, and a tear or two slid down his cheek.  “It’s okay Harry, I’m here now,” Sirius said, raising his hand to Harry’s shoulder and resting it there. 
“I thought you were dead,” Harry said, “You don’t know how happy I am to see you, here, in front of me.” 
“Sometimes, I wish that I had died.  The pain and helplessness I feel now is too much at times.  One thing alone has helped me stay alive.  That thing is you Harry.  Whenever I feel like giving up, all I have to do is think of you, and how I have a duty as your godfather, and life becomes worth living,” Sirius relied, tears now in his eyes.  Harry went to hug Sirius, and Sirius, against his will, gave a yelp when Harry touched Sirius’ ribs.
“I’m so sorry Sirius!” Harry exclaimed, hating himself for causing Sirius even more pain.  “What happened to you anyway?” Harry asked.  He wondered what could be making his godfather hurt so much. 
“Well, the Healers believe that the veil’s curse shattered all my ribs and both my legs.  Also, it damaged my lungs and heart, so I have a hard time breathing,” Sirius said. 
“Can’t the Healers cure you?” Harry asked.  Madame Pomfrey had healed Harry’s injuries so many times that it seemed natural that almost all bone injuries and ailments could be healed in a day or two. 
“Shattered bones and damaged organs take time Harry,” Sirius answered.  A knock sounded at the door.  Mad-Eye Moody, having been asleep through the whole reunion opened the door and Sirius’ Healer walked in.
“How are we doing today?” The Healer asked.  He was a fairly young man, thin and lanky.  His name tag read: Jonathon Peters, Healer. 
“Hmmm…let’s see,” Sirius began.  “I can’t stand, I can’t sit up without help, and I can’t get out of this place.  Do you want to ask that question again?”  Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at his godfather’s sarcasm, sarcasm that Harry had longed to hear for more than a year.  The Healer had a look of fear in his face, surprised at his patient’s new attitude.
“I see your godson has made quite an impression on you already?” Jonathon asked, knowing well that the legendary Harry Potter was the godson in question.  His eyes, like most people to see Harry for the first time, drifted to the prominent lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.  Harry, realizing that he was being stared at, looked away feeling rather uncomfortable. 
“Yes, he has.  He’s better medicine than what you’re giving me,” Sirius answered.  “When will I be able to leave this place anyway?”
“Not for at least another month,” Jonathon started.  “You only just woke up a week ago.  You’re not a superhero you know.”
Sirius’ face sagged with disappointment.  He had wanted to be able to spend time with Harry outside of the hospital.  But, still, to be alive to see Harry was better than nothing.  Sirius forced a smile to try and convince Harry that he wasn’t upset.
“You’re definitely making progress though,” Jonathon concluded.  “I’ll check back in on you in a while.”  With that, he left the pair to their conversation, but motioned to Moody to follow him out into the hall. 
“So, Harry,” Sirius started, “Moody told me what you’ve been going through.  I  only wish that I could have been there to help you through it.  McGonagall told me that Dumbledore asked you not to reveal anything that happened, but could you just give me a little information so that I can help.”
“I’ll try,” Harry replied, unsure of how much information to give him.  “I had been taking private lessons with Dumbledore all year.  We had gone out together for a…well…field trip.  His arm got shriveled somehow last summer, and he had slow reflexes.  He got sick on the journey, and he collapsed in Hogsmeade.  I had to Apparate him back to Hogsmeade illegally.  After he collapsed, Madame Rosmerta came out.  I was going to leave him with her, but then we saw the Dark Mark above Hogwarts.  Dumbledore gained enough strength to ride through to Hogwarts.  I followed and we landed at the top of the astronomy tower. Then, before I knew it, Dumbledore paralyzed me, and Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore.  Voldemort gave Malfoy the task of killing Dumbledore.  Dumbledore, I think, finally convinced Malfoy not to kill him…then more Death Eaters showed up.  A couple of them wanted to kill Dumbledore, but the majority said that Malfoy had to do it.  Then, Snape came in, ready to kill Dumbledore.  Dumbledore begged Snape, but Snape killed him with the Avada Kedavra curse.  I followed Malfoy and Snape, but they got away after setting Hagrid’s hut on fire.”  Harry started to tear up again. 
“I’m so sorry Harry,” Sirius said.  “I had no idea all that happened.”  Sirius sat up a bit, and gave Harry a one-armed hug.  Harry, after not having anyone to talk to in a long time, just buried his head in Sirius’ shoulder and cried.
“It’s okay Harry, you can cry.”  Sirius cradled his head like a baby’s and soothed Harry the best he could.  Playing a father figure in a crisis was not something that Sirius was accustomed to.  Harry calmed down after a bit, and sat up straight again.
“I’m sorry Sirius,” Harry apologized.  Having a fit was not the way to celebrate the fact that his godfather was alive. 
“It’s okay Harry,” Sirius replied.  “You’ve been through a lot and have had no one to talk to about it.  You deserve to vent and grieve a bit.  I’m just happy that I’m the one you’re venting to.”
The door opened and Moody came back into the room. 
“I hate to do this to you guys, but Harry, we have to get going.  Sirius, Jonathon said that you don’t need to take the Polyjuice potion anymore, just lie low for a bit.  You  can say goodbye.  I’ll be waiting outside,” Moody announced.  Moody left the room and closed the door behind him. 
“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now,” Sirius stated.  He tried to smile again, though he really didn’t want Harry to leave.  Harry sensed this, and he tried to grin at his godfather.
“Don’t worry Sirius,” Harry started, “I’ll be back before you know it.  You just get better.”
“I’ll try,” Sirius concluded.  With that, Harry hugged Sirius lightly, and he quietly walked out the door and closed the door behind him, leaving Sirius alone. 


Chapter 3: Journey to the Burrow

“Like that present, Potter?” Moody asked Harry as they walked to the Main Floor of St. Mungo’s. 
“I couldn’t have asked for anything better,” Harry replied.  His mind was still reeling from the events that had occurred in the past few hours of his life.  If only Voldemort were dead and Dumbledore were alive, then, for the first time in his life, Harry would be completely happy. 
They walked to the foyer of St. Mungo’s and prepared to Apparate back to Privet Drive. 
“Ready Potter?” Moody questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Harry answered.  Within seconds he was standing in the Dursley’s kitchen.  The Order members were still there, clearly enjoying themselves, for they were talking to the Dursleys about many magical things.  Harry’s uncle looked like he was going to kill Harry if he got a chance.  Harry tried not to chuckle as he watched how red his uncle’s face was. 
“Oh!  Hello again Harry!” Tonks called out.  She got up as did Lupin and the Dursleys.
“Well, we had a lovely chat.  Thanks for keeping us!” Lupin said towards the Dursleys. 
McGonagall grasped the sides of the chair she was sitting in and tried to pull herself up, though trembling with exhaustion all the while.  Harry strode over to her and helped her on her feet. 
“Thank you Harry,” she breathed, panting with tiredness.  Harry was worried that she wouldn’t be able to take him to the Burrow.  He stood next to her anxiously, waiting for his next directions.  In a few seconds that seemed to him like hours, she spoke again with more authority.
“Okay Potter,” she started, “we’re going to walk aways so I can talk to you.  When we get to our designated spot, then we’ll Apparate to the Burrow.  The Order will be watching our Apparating spot and the Burrow to make sure it’s safe.  We’ve already sent Hedwig and your trunk there.  Are you  ready to say goodbye and get going?”
“Yes, Professor,” Harry answered.  He was finally going to say goodbye to the Dursleys for the last time. With that, the other members of the Order left the house to go stand guard. 
Harry walked into the living room and the Dursleys moved forward, meeting him halfway. 
“Goodbye Uncle Vernon,” Harry said, “thank you for everything.”  Harry felt that even though his life wasn’t great at the Dursley’s, he at least had food and shelter.
“You’re welcome, Harry,” Vernon replied.  “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye Aunt Petunia.  Thank you for keeping me alive.”  Harry said, truly sincere, for without her, he wouldn’t be here to kill Voldemort.
“Goodbye Harry,” Petunia said.  Fully surprising Harry, she walked up to him and kissed him briskly on his cheek and patted his shoulder.  Harry couldn’t believe that she would show that much emotion, but, after all, Harry was the last connection between Petunia and her sister, Lily. 
Next, Dudley stepped forward, but only because Petunia was pushing him forward. 
“Say goodbye,” Petunia hissed into Dudley’s ear.  “The sooner we get through these goodbyes, the sooner he leaves.”
Dudley stepped forward so fast that he almost knocked Harry over. 
“Bye Harry,”  Dudley said completely montone. 
“Goodbye Dudley,” Harry answered. 
With goodbyes out of the way, Harry walked over to where Professor McGonagall was standing.  She grabbed her cloak that was resting on a chair nearby and she and Harry began to walk out.  Harry didn’t once look back.
Harry and Professor McGonagall walked a couple of miles or so before either of them said anything.  McGonagall seemed to be concentrating on staying in charge of herself and Harry.  Harry was closely watching McGonagall, in case he had to help her if she struggled to go on.  A few hours seemed to pass by before Professor McGonagall finally spoke up. 
“Harry, how are you holding up?” McGonagall questioned.
“Fine,” Harry replied, trying to sound convincing.  He didn’t feel like making her worry anymore than she already was. 
“Potter, you never were a good Occlumens.  Tell the truth.”
“ Okay.  I’m trying to move on, Professor, but it’s hard.  There is so much I need to do in order to be able to sleep peacefully and not have to worry about whether or not I will live to see the next day.  And now, with Dumbledore gone, I don’t know if I will ever accomplish my goal.  Sometimes at night, I dream that none of this has happened.  I dream that Dumbledore and Sirius are alive, that Voldemort isn’t back yet, that I am how I was a few years ago; still an orphan but not alone.”  The moonlight streamed down, allowing McGonagall to stop and take a long, hard look at Harry.
“Harry, you still are not alone.  You have friends who care about you, Sirius is alive, not necessarily well yet, but still alive, and you have the Order, including me.  We are all here to help you get through this.  I know that Albus and you were close, anyone could see that.  I know that he knew what you needed to do to destroy Voldemort.  I know that he gave you advice and taught you to see things in a different way.  I know that after Sirius died, he was the only family-like figure you had left and you cherished that more than you probably should have.  You relied on him more than you let on to him.  Albus was dear to me too, but I didn’t rely on him being here forever.  He was growing older like I was.  After that curse affected him and he almost died, I learned that it was possible that I would have to fill his footsteps before the school year was over.  He should have distanced himself a bit from you, or at least prepared you for the reality of what could happen.  I’m sorry that you are feeling loss, Potter, I am feeling it too.  But you can’t lose your focus of what you are destined to do.  I am here to help you still.  And, throughout the summer so far, I have made several discoveries that should both surprise you and excite you.  I am not saying that you can rely whole-heartedly on me, Potter, but I am going to be the one helping you now.”  McGonalgall placed her hand on his shoulder, patted him a couple times, and continued to walk through the moonlit darkness.  Harry could not contain his curiosity for very long.
“What are the things that you have found out?” Harry asked, his eyes now glistening with excitement.
“I knew it wouldn’t take you long to ask, Potter,” McGonagall answered.  “Well, firstly, I think I have found who R.A.B. is.”
“What?  Who is it?  How did you find out?” Harry asked, bursting with excitement. 
“Calm down, Potter.  I am not absolutely positive but I believe that R.A.B. stands for Regulus Aberratio Black.”
“What?  You mean Sirius’ brother?  Why do you think that it’s him?” Harry asked.
“Well, we know that Regulus was killed soon after he left the Death Eaters.  Maybe he had some good in him after all.  He began to second-guess his feelings of being one of Voldemort’s followers.  He deserted them, went away for a few days, no one knows where he was, and then he was murdered.  My guess is that he had an idea that Voldemort had at least one horcrux, and before he deserted the Death Eaters, he had a guess as to where it was.  Then, he deserted Voldemort, sought to destroy the horcrux, and I believe that he succeeded.  Does that sound possible to you?” McGonagall asked.
“Wow,” Harry started.  “You sound just like Dumbledore.”
“Well, he wasn’t the only one who was clever.  So, does that seem accurate?”
“Yes,” Harry replied.  “But why do you think that he succeeded in destroying the horcrux?”
“A locket was found by his body after he was murdered.  The locket had been taken for testing, and no signs of dark magic was traced,” McGonagall answered.
“But, Professor, if the ministry or someone had the locket tested, then why didn’t Dumbledore know that a locket was found and that it could be the horcrux?” Harry asked.
“Harry, Albus knew that a locket had been found with Regulus’ body.  Unfortunately, he was not aware of Voldemort using horcruxes yet, and therefore, didn’t think anything of it.”
“But it was Slytherin’s locket, surely Dumbledore would have remembered that Regulus was found with it.  Why would he go searching for something that had already been found?” Harry argued.
“Potter, we both know how the ministry distorts things and that they keep things from us.  All that was known was that a locket was found at the site.  Dumbledore had no way of knowing whose locket it was or how important it was.” McGonagall answered, trying to remain patient, but starting to fail.
  “Ok, well, if Regulus managed to destroy a horcrux, then I only have three more to seek out, right?” Harry asked, thrilled that he was probably one step closer to getting rid of Voldemort for good. 
“Well, yes, I suppose so, Potter,” McGonagall answered, her voice getting strangely soft.  All of a sudden, McGonagall stumbled and sank to her knees.  Harry bent down and was horrified to see that her face was pale and her eyes were closed.
“Professor?  Professor McGonagall?  Please, wake up!  I can’t bear to lose you too!” Harry yelled, lightly tapping McGonagall on the cheek.  McGonagall quietly moaned, her breathing becoming heavy.  Harry tapped her again, this time noticing how hot her face had become.
Harry looked around for any members of the Order who may have been watching and rushing to help.  To his disappointment, no one came.  Harry knew of only one thing he could do.  He would have to Apparate himself and McGonagall to the Burrow, without the Order telling him whether it would be safe or not.  It was worth the risk.  He wasn’t going to lose Professor McGonagall too.  Harry bent down and gently scooped McGonagall into his arms.  He could feel how sharp and thin her bones were under her tight, thin frame.  He couldn’t believe how light she was.  Harry concentrated as hard as he could on the Burrow, took a step forward and found himself just outside the Burrow.
He began to walk to the house, carrying McGonagall like a ragdoll.  She continued to move her head and limbs fitfully and her skin became hotter and hotter to the touch.  Harry hurried as fast as he could to the Weasley’s front door. 
When he finally approached, he banged on it with his foot as loud and hard as he could.  He could hear footsteps running toward the door.
“Who is it?” whispered a frightened-sounding woman. 
“It’s me, Harry,” Harry replied.
Molly Weasley immediately opened the door.  Her mouth gaped in horror as she saw McGonagall limp, shaking, and moaning.  Harry walked in and laid her softly on the sofa in the living room. 
“Harry!  What happened!  What’s wrong with Minerva?” Molly questioned anxiously. 
“I don’t k-know…she had been weak the whole time, b-but then she just collapsed…I-I didn’t know w-what to do…I just Apparated here, I had no other ch-choice,” Harry replied shakily, looking nervously at McGonagall.  He sank down into an armchair looking desperately at Mrs. Weasley for help. 
“What do we do?” he asked.
“Harry, just stay by her and talk to her, see if you can bring her around.  I’m going to get my healing book and see if anything might help,” Molly answered.  She left the room leaving Harry with Professor McGonagall. 
Harry got up and walked over to McGonagall, sitting on a stool that Mrs. Weasley had conjured up next to the sofa.  McGonagall continued to shake even though her body was burning up.
“Professor?  Professor, can you hear me?  Please, you must wake up.  I can’t continue without your guidance.  Please wake up,” Harry pleaded.  “Tell me the rest of your findings; wake up so you can teach me.  Professor, I can’t learn if you don’t wake up and teach me!  Come on, Wake up!”
McGonagall stopped shaking but she continued to stir fitfully.  Harry kept babbling softly near her ear, about stupid things like quidditch and house elves and old homework assignments.  All of a sudden, a memory came to mind; a memory that he needed McGonagall to be awake for. 
“Professor, wake up, please!  I just remembered something!  I think I know where that locket is!  Please, wake up!” Harry cried.  He shook McGonagall lightly.  She heaved a great sigh and was still and silent.
“NO!” Harry yelled.  He couldn’t see her breathing.  He pointed his wand at her chest. 
“Renervate!” Harry shouted.  McGonagall stirred, and Harry sat down in relief.  Molly came running in, her Healing book and a tonic of some sort in her hands. 
“Harry, any change?” Molly asked. 
“She stopped breathing, but then I used “renervate” and she came back, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry answered.  “Find anything to help her?”
“I think I found something to bring down the fever, which should, in turn, help settle her down.  Help me lift her head up, Harry,” Molly instructed.  Harry gently lifted his teacher’s head and tilted it back slightly, and Mrs. Weasley tipped the potion into McGonagall’s open mouth.  She shuddered and scrunched her face, and then she fell into what looked like a peaceful sleep.  Mrs. Weasley placed her hand on McGonagall’s forehead and nodded in approvement. 
“Her fever’s already starting to go down, Harry.  Why don’t you stay here with her, while I make you and her something to eat, you must be starving.” 
“Okay,” Harry replied, and Mrs. Weasley left the room again. 
“Professor McGonagall?  Can you hear me?” Harry asked.  He looked at her, hoping that she would wake up.  He needed to ask her something.  McGonagall moved her head and her eyes flickered open.
“I-I’m so s-sorry H-Harry,” McGonagall stated weakly. 
“It’s okay, Professor, I got us here safely,” Harry answered.  “Don’t worry.  Mrs. Weasley is making us something to eat.  Here, let me help you sit up.”
“Th-thank you Harry.”  Harry propped some pillows beneath McGonagall and she sat up with a sigh. 
“I really am sorry, Harry,” she said, her voice getting stronger.  “You shouldn’t have had to bring me here like this.  Didn’t any of the Order come to our aid?”
“No, Professor, no one came.  I waited for a signal, but I couldn’t wait for it too long.  Are you feeling any better?  What happened?” Harry questioned.  McGonagall looked off in the distance, her eyes slightly glazed over. 
“I am not sure I should tell you just yet, Potter,” McGonagall said.  Harry opened his mouth in protest, but McGonagall cut him off.  “No!  Don’t think that you arguing with me is going to help you get your way.  You and I have other important things to discuss right now.  I will tell you when the time is right, that’s my final word,” McGonagall ordered.  Harry’s face sagged with disappointment.  It had to be something important, and it just wasn’t fair that he wasn’t being told.  Dumbledore last year had rarely kept things from him. 
“Fine, don’t tell me how you got sick then,” Harry replied.  “Just tell me: are you feeling better?”
“Yes, Potter, I am feeling a bit better; I actually think that I am a little hungry.”
“Oh, good, you’re up, Minerva,” Mrs. Weasley proclaimed as she walked in the room.  Mrs. Weasley was carrying a tray of food for McGonagall, and a tray for Harry was floating alongside her.  “Are you feeling better now?  You gave us quite a scare,” Molly asked.
“Yes, Molly, I feel much better, thank you,” McGonagall replied. 
“That’s good.  I brought you and Harry a little something to eat.  I thought you might be hungry,” Molly offered. She set McGonagall’s tray down on a table in front of her, followed by Harry’s tray.  On them: some toast, a glass of butterbeer for Harry, some mead for McGonagall, and some homemade onion soup.  Harry’s mouth watered as he saw the delicious meal in front of him.
“Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, digging into his supper with vigor.  McGonagall watched him carefully, opened her mouth, then closed it and said nothing.  She picked up her toast and ate some of it, then suddenly set it back down.  Molly, unbeknownst to the travelers, had left the room.
“Harry, I need to talk to you about something,” McGonagall started.  Harry looked at her, then set his spoon down.
“I need to talk to you too, Professor,” Harry replied.  McGonagall frowned at him, a look that he knew too well.  She was not used to a student being so blunt, not unlike herself. 
“Me first, Potter,” McGonagall started.  “I need to ask you; have you decided what you’re going to do about school this year?”  She looked at Harry intently, unsure if she could tell the answer. 
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, Professor.  I really need to find the remaining horcruxes and destroy Voldemort, and I can’t very well do that at Hogwarts.  On the other hand though, I really want to be an Auror if I make it through this.  I can’t do that without completing my schooling.  I really don’t know my decision yet,” Harry explained.
“Well, Harry, I think you should come back to school.  I’m the only other person that knows what you need to do, and it will be easier for me to help you if you are in my sight.”  McGonagall paused, thinking of how she could help Harry more.  “Okay, I’ll tell you what.  Come to school.  I will grant you special permission to leave school grounds to do your horcrux research, and I will help you along the way.  Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, or whoever else you may like, can help you also, if they so choose to.  I believe it to be of the utmost importance that you continue your schooling, especially, if you want to pursue a career in being an Auror.”  Harry looked in disbelief.  Professor McGonagall, the strictest teacher he knew, would allow him to leave school grounds whenever he needed to.  It filled Harry with hope that he could attend to both agendas.
“Professor, that would be great!” Harry replied, fully grateful.  “Thank you!”  He didn’t know what to do to thank her.  He felt it would be inappropriate to hug her, for she is his teacher, but shaking her hand seemed man-like.  Before he could figure out what to do, McGonagall placed her hand on Harry’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. 
“You’re welcome, Harry,” McGonagall said.  Molly re-entered the room, looking a bit cross.
“Minerva, Harry, it is past 2:00 am!  Both of you should be up to bed!” Minerva reprimanded.  McGonagall reached over to grab her bag, but Molly instinctively grabbed it and levitated it out of reach.
“No, Minerva!  You are not going out tonight, not alone.  You will stay here for the night.  We can put you in Ginny’s room, and then Ginny can go to Fred and George’s room tonight.  Hermione is coming tomorrow, then we’ll figure out what to do.  So, come.”  Molly stated.  Harry and Molly went to each side of McGonagall and they helped her up.  They then helped her up the stairs, where Harry woke up Ginny.  Ginny groaned sleepily, and walked zombie-like to her brothers’ room.  Harry and Molly helped McGonagall on the bed, where Molly then shooed Harry so that she could find some pajamas for Minerva.  Harry muttered “Goodnight” and walked to Ron’s room.
Ron was fast asleep, snoring lightly as Harry walked in.  Harry got out of his clothes, and pulled on a pair of new pajamas that had been laid out for him.  He then climbed into the other bed in the room, and pulled the covers up to his chin.  As soon as his head hit the soft pillow, he had sunk into a deep sleep. 



Chapter 5: Ginny’s Ultimatum


Harry awoke to a high-pitched screech. 
“Harry!” Hermione yelled as she jumped on his bed. 
“Wazzgoinon?” Harry murmured still half asleep. 
“Wake up, mate!” Ron greeted.  Harry, now almost awake, sat up, grabbed his glasses from his bed-table, and put them on.  Harry saw Hermione at the end of his bed and was shocked to see that her once bushy, curly hair, was now incredibly sleek and straight.  Ron was sitting on his own bed, grinning at Harry. 
“How are you doing, Harry?” Ron questioned. 
“I’m alright, I guess.  How about you, Ron, Hermione?”
“We’re both fine, Harry,” Hermione started, “but, we are hungry and we’re not eating until you’re ready.”
“Come on, Harry,” Ron complained.  He smiled and promptly threw a pillow at Harry’s head.  Harry laughed and got out of bed.  Hermione left the boys so that they could get dressed.
“When did you get here last night?” Ron asked. 
“McGonagall and I arrived here around one in the morning,” Harry started.  He then remembered all that had happened the night before.  “How is McGonagall?” Harry inquired.  Ron stopped what he was doing, and looked at Harry with a strange expression on his face.
“What do you mean?  Did something happen last night?” Ron asked, his eyes wide with shock.  Every student who had ever spent any time observing or being with Minerva McGonagall knew that even though she was fairly old, she was one of the strongest, bravest, and most skillful witches in the world.  Without answering Ron, Harry bolted out the door and ran as fast as he could down the stairs and into the kitchen.  Professor McGonagall was sitting at the table, fully dressed, drinking coffee, and reading the Daily Prophet.  She still looked incredibly pale, but quite cheerful, and she smiled as Harry burst through the door. 
“Good morning, Harry!” Mrs. Weasley greeted.  “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley!  I’d love some breakfast.  Good morning, Professor,” Harry announced. 
“Hello, Harry,” McGonagall answered.  She flicked her wrist and the chair across from her slid out a bit.  She beckoned Harry to sit down. 
“I apologize again for all I put you through last night.” McGonagall began.  “Today, you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger will be going to Hogwarts with me.  I need to talk with the three of you, and Hogwarts is the safest place, even now.”  Harry looked at her, puzzled.  What was the point of going now?  School wasn’t scheduled to begin for another month and the supply lists hadn’t even arrived yet.  McGonagall quickly answered Harry’s thoughts. 
“Firstly, the supply lists should be arriving within the hour.  Secondly, after I talk with you all, you will then be allowed to meet Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to Diagon Alley to buy your supplies, accompanied by Hagrid of course,” McGonagall replied.  “It is imperative that we meet before school begins.”
“Okay, Professor,” Harry said.  He was still a little confused, but he certainly wasn’t going to question his new Headmistress.  That word seemed unwelcome in Harry’s mind.  As much as he liked and respected Professor McGonagall, she wasn’t the same as Dumbledore.  It just didn’t seem right, didn’t seem fair, that the office he had once used, the speeches he once gave, and the throne-like chair he once occupied in the Great Hall, all now belonged to McGonagall.  Harry tried to shove that thought away, he didn’t need McGonagall reading his mind again and feeling bad. 
“Professor, when are we going to leave?” McGonagall set down her coffee cup, and looked at a clock. 
“In about two hours or so,” McGonagall said.  “I want us all to stay here until your lists arrive, and until I can get some more rest.”  All of a sudden, raised voices rang out from outside the kitchen.
“Ron!  Why can’t you understand the situation?  Why do you have to be so insensitive?”
“What do you mean, ‘insensitive’?  Where’s the problem?” Ron’s voice answered back loudly. 
“What’s ‘insensitive’?  Are you serious?  Trying to hook Ginny and Harry back up is just going to hurt them more!  Ginny still hasn’t gotten over it, and Harry’s got enough on his mind.  I’m sure he misses her too, but you’ve got to let them work this one out on their own!  Your problem is that you have never understood relationships,” Hermione retorted. 
Harry glanced down at the breakfast plate that Mrs. Weasley had placed before him, feeling both McGonagall’s and Mrs. Weasley’s eyes upon him.
“Harry, is it true?  Are you and Ginny no longer together?” Molly asked, tears in her eyes.  Clearly, Ginny hadn’t told her mother.  Harry didn’t want to answer, he didn’t want to give her anymore grief.
“Yes, it’s true,” Harry confessed.  “It was too dangerous.  Voldemort uses the people I love as targets…we know he’s done it before.  I had to end it.”  Harry felt extremely bad if Ginny really was that upset about their break-up.  It wasn’t meant to hurt her, that was the whole point, wasn’t it?  Harry understood though.  Ginny had filled part of the empty void that Harry had within him.  The days he spent with her had been some of the happiest days of his life.  But, after trying to kill Ginny and then actually killing Sirius and Dumbledore on his orders, he didn’t want to put her in danger again.  Now, he had hurt her anyway. 
“Well, I’m sorry that you felt that it couldn’t go on.  It shows great love and courage to sacrifice your happiness for the safety of the one you love.  It’s something that Dumbledore would have done.  Always putting others before yourself.  He would have been proud of you, I think, Harry,” Professor McGonagall said.  Harry, though happy to be compared with Dumbledore, did not agree with McGonagall. 
“Don’t you think that Dumbledore would have been disappointed in me for what I did?” Harry asked.  McGonagall raised her eyebrows and looked at him intently. 
“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” McGonagall said.  “Albus did always want to promote love, even in the saddest of times, but, he would have been proud of your courage.  It was a very loving thing you did.”  Harry still did not fully understand.  He wished that Dumbledore was here, giving him advice.  Harry’s mind drifted once again to Dumbledore’s office where he had spent evenings learning about himself and his fate.  Harry’s thoughts were again interrupted, this time by Ron.
He walked in looking quite red and bothered.  Mrs. Weasley smirked at Harry, and Harry at once pretended like he hadn’t heard their argument. 
“Hey, Ron,” Harry greeted looking pleasant. 
“Hi, Harry.  Thanks for waiting for me for breakfast,” Ron said glumly.  Clearly, Ron was upset about his fight with Hermione, and was now taking it out on Harry, who was still pretending that he hadn’t heard the argument in the first place.
“Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall began, “the fact that Mr. Potter did not come down to breakfast with you is entirely my fault.  I had some difficulty making it here last night, and Mr. Potter was just making sure that I had recovered.”  Ron at once looked embarrassed and somewhat surprised to see McGonagall breakfasting at his table. 
“I’m sorry, Harry, Professor,” Ron apologized.  A loud bang then sounded at the window as four owls attempted to crash through it.  Mrs. Weasley rushed to the window and proceeded to open it.  Soon, all four birds had landed on the table.  Mrs. Weasley removed the different envelopes.  She handed Ron and Harry their letters, then proceeded to call Hermione and Ginny down to the kitchen.  Hermione arrived panting at the kitchen door, Ginny close behind her.  Ginny and Harry’s eyes locked into each other for a moment, then Ginny suddenly looked away.  Harry felt instantly miserable.  He turned away and opened up his letter. 
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will remain open for this upcoming year.  Enclosed is a school supply list and a permission form for Hogsmeade.  We are pleased to announce that Professor M. McGonagall will be newly inducted as Headmistress.  An announcement will be made as to her new deputy headmistress and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the Feast.  The Hogwarts Express will be departing from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters promptly at 11:00 on September first at King’s Crossing. 
Professor M. McGonagall

School Supplies:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7: Miranda Goshawk
Miracle Shrubs and Herbs: Gertrude Kensington
Advanced Guide to the History of Magic: Mariah Lions
Potion Making for Expert Wizards: Lionel Jerome
Transfiguration for the Advanced Wizard: Jessica Farbough
Advanced Defensive Spells: Franklin Harper

Harry looked at his letter, then looked at Ron and Hermione.  Ginny was still clutching her letter in her hand, unopened. 
“Who do you think is going to be the Deputy?” Ron asked.  Hermione looked puzzled for a second and then her eyes shone, clearly indicating that she knew the answer.  They seemed to have forgotten that Professor McGonagall was still in the kitchen, now looking at them intently, amusement visible in her green cat’s eyes.
“Don’t you see?  It’s clearly Professor Sprout.  First of all, it says, “mistress”, which obviously means a woman, and she’s always been the second-best Head of House behind Professor McGonagall,” Hermione explained. 
“Very good, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said.  Hermione jumped and her face went white, for she had no idea that her teacher was behind her.  Hermione turned around, her face red, and faced McGonagall.
“I-I d-didn’t know y-you were th-there, Professor,” Hermione stated.
“Yes, Miss Granger.  I brought Harry last night, and it was so late that I decided to spend the night here.  Now, I think I am going to return to the living room to retrieve my bag, and I shall be ready to leave within the hour.  You can fill in Miss Granger, if you please.”  With that, she left the room.
“What in the world is going on?” Hermione asked. 
“Yeah, I’d like to learn some more too,” Ron said, confused.  Harry looked around to make sure that McGonagall was gone, then told Ron and Hermione what had happened the night before.  Ginny had left the room, letter still in hand, with Mrs. Weasley trying to convince her to open it. 
“I wonder what all of this is about,” Hermione pondered after hearing Harry’s tale. 
“I was so worried,” Harry began, “she’s one of the last allies that I have left.  I don’t know what I’m going to do if something happens to her.”  Hermione looked at Ron, and then gently placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder.  She looked at him with concerned eyes.
“Harry, listen to me.  No matter what, you will always have us. Ron, me, Ginny too, if you let her.  Don’t forget about the rest of the Weasley clan and the Order.  Lupin, Tonks, and Sirius will also be here, supporting you.  Don’t you see?  We’ll be with you the whole way.  We’re all together in this.”  Hermione broke down and started crying softly.  Harry looked away, overcome by all the grief that he had caused throughout his life.  Ron looked at him and then he pulled Hermione into him.  He patted her awkwardly as she buried her head into his chest. 
“Alright, enough of this!” Ron said abruptly.  Hermione and Harry looked at him, slightly shocked. 
“I’m tired of us falling apart.  We’ve all lost an important guide in all of this, but I’m not going to let it get to me anymore.  Instead of feeling sadness, I’m going to fight with vigor in Dumbledore’s memory.  Who’s with me?” Ron exclaimed.  Harry looked at him, mouth open.  Ron’s eyes were full of fire.  Hermione gazed at him as though she was seeing him for the first time.
“I’m with you, mate,” Harry replied, the same fire burning in his eyes.  Hermione moved in between the two of them, and put her arms around their shoulders.
“Let’s do it.”

Ron and Harry went to go retrieve the savings that they had, and proceeded to go downstairs.  Hermione went to Ginny’s room where she found Ginny crying on her bed, letter still unopened, with Mrs. Weasley nearby trying to calm her down.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.  She was ready for anything at the moment.
“She won’t tell me,” Mrs. Weasley responded, wringing her hands and looking on worriedly.
“Can you please excuse us, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione whispered.  “I think that I can help here.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Weasley responded, and she quickly left the room.  Hermione closed the door and then plopped down on the bed, next to Ginny. 
“Why aren’t you opening this, Ginny?” Hermione began kindly.  “As nervous as I was, I couldn’t wait to see how I’d done.”
“You know this isn’t about my O.W.L. grades, Hermione,” Ginny said softly between sobs.  Hermione had hoped that Ginny’s breakdown wasn’t due to what she thought it was, but, apparently, Hermione had been right in her theory, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t right.
“Ginny-”
“No!  I’m sick of this!  I waited far too long to be with him.  And, now, he’s trying to protect me?  Forget it!  I don’t want sympathy from any of you.  I don’t want to hear about how his heart was in the right place.  I don’t want to hear any reasoning from anyone but him.  If you want to make things right, then tell him to come back to me.  I am staying in here, with my letter unopened until he comes to me, until he talks to me.  If I die of starvation from waiting, well, maybe that will be good, an end to my suffering!”  Ginny started to sob fresh tears and she buried her face into the coverlet.  Hermione attempted to put her hand on Ginny’s back, but Ginny, mad with sadness, sat up immediately, and forcefully shoved Hermione off the bed.  Hermione left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Ginny alone, again.
“Harry!  You have got to talk to Ginny!  She’s refusing to eat and come out of her room until you talk to her,” Hermione explained.  Harry, who didn't think he could sink any lower, felt his heart drop lower, and it ached even more than it ever had before. But, if he went to her, then he ,ay not be able to control his feelings for her, and then she could very well end up dead. Harry composed himself and came up with a rational decision.
"I can't risk going in there. She'll calm down and come out eventually; she's too smart to waste away waiting for me. She's strong, she'll come out of it," Harry said, trying to sound confident. Hermione strode over to him. Harry put his head down and stared at the floor. Hermione placed his fingers under his chin, and lifted his head till his eyes met hers.
"Harry. Look at me and listen carefully. You and I both know that she is very stubborn." Harry's eyes continued to gaze into Hermione’s. "You have to make things right. You feel bad and act distracted, and Ginny is willing to die waiting for you one way or another. Voldemort will try to take her whether you're "with" her or not. Either way, he'll know that you still love her. For all of our sakes, please go to her." Hermione lowered her hand, eyes shining. She refused the urge to cry, because, wasn't that what Ron said was their problem?
"I can't, Hermione," Harry began. "Voldemort doesn't know love, he only knows who I am with and close to. He knew that I had a relationship with Sirius, Dumbledore, Ginny too at the time. If I leave her alone, then he might guess that we aren't as close as he thought we were. He'd think that if I loved her, then I wouldn't let her starve in her room. Don't you see, Hermione? You and Ron are more in danger because not only are we always together, but you're going to be helping me as I try to defeat him. I don't even want to put you in this danger, but I know you will find your way back to me if I try to keep you away. Ginny's not of age, and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let her go anyway. I'm keeping her safe this way. Hopefully, he won't harm her."
Harry, though at first glance looked confident, felt insecure and worried that he might be wrong. He looked at Hermione, hoping to receive her blessing after his long-winded explanation. Instead, Hermione’s eyes were cold.
"Do whatever you want, Harry. I don't care anymore," Hermione responded, exasperated. She grabbed Ron's arm and went to usher Ron out of the room.
“C’mon, Ron.  Let’s leave Harry alone with his bravery.”  Before they fully disappeared from Harry’s sight, Ron glanced apologetically in Harry’s direction.
Harry, alone now, felt worse than he had ever felt in his life.  Was there anything that he could do right?  He decided to wait for Professor McGonagall in the kitchen.
To his surprise, he found Lupin sitting at the table, his head in his hands.  Harry walked in, and Lupin looked up and gave him a wan smile.  Lupin appeared to be exhausted, his hair was gray, and he was incredibly pale.  His eyes were surrounded by dark circles. At first Harry thought that it was possibly a full moon causing Lupin's haggard appearance, but Harry then remembered the crescent moon that was in the sky the night before.
"Hello, Harry," Lupin greeted, his voice hoarse. Lupin pulled a chair out from the table and beckoned Harry to sit down.
"Professor, is everything alright?" Harry asked. Even though Lupin was no longer Harry's teacher, it was a hard habit to break.
"I'm afraid that it isn't. Kingsley Shacklebolt was killed in an attack this morning. Tonks, Mad-Eye and I barely made it out alive. This war is moving quicker than we anticipated. We need Dumbledore's guidance," Lupin confessed. He looked completely helpless, something that gave Harry even more determination to defeat Voldemort. It was destroying his unofficial family.
"I'm leaving right after Bill and Fleur's wedding. I'm going to stop at Grimauld Place for a little bit to retreive something left there. Then, I am going to Godric's Hollow. I just have a feeling that I need to start there." Lupin stood up and walked to where Harry was sitting. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it tightly.
"You're our only hope, Harry. I know, it's not fair for a seventeen-year-old to have this as a burden, but we're all counting on you. We can help, but in the end, you will be the one to defeat him, if he can be defeated at all. And, Harry? You will defeat him, you will. We all believe in you." Harry looked into his professor's tired eyes and worn face. He didn't want to let anyone down, but especially not him.
"We'll destroy him, I know we can," Harry stated. "Don't worry." Lupin chuckled lightly, turning his eyes once again on Harry.
"But, do you see a problem, Harry? We are worried about you. You are so full of vengence, that you won't even talk to the one girl you love."
"How do you know about that?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Word gets around, Harry."
"Look, I don't want to discuss this anymore, Professor. I'm going to defeat Voldemort, and then I'll live my life. Saving the wizarding world is more important than my happiness." Lupin smiled faintly.
"How very Dumbledore of you," Lupin commended softly. Harry's eyes, yet again became shiny. He felt like part of Dumbledore was in him. He heard his soft, old voice speaking to him in his head all the time.
"You have a hard time hearing his name, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. You blame yourself for his death. I know that you don't want to believe otherwise, but you've got to. You will soon learn that it was not your fault, but you figure it out on your own first." Lupin glanced slyly at Harry, with an "I know something you don't know" look on his face.
"What are you saying, Professor?" Harry asked, confused, but curious nonetheless.
"You will see for yourself soon," his friend replied. "I have to go check on Tonks now. She was hit by a Stunner, and was a little out of it. So long, Harry. I'll see you at the wedding." Lupin waved half-heartedly and left with a pop!
Harry remained sitting at the table for a while as he waited for McGonagall. A half hour later, the door opened and she walked in wearing her traveling cloak and carrying her carpet bag.
"Things aren't going as you planned, are they, Harry," McGonagall asked, though she already knew the answer.
"No," Harry said simply. He didn’t' care if he was being rude.
"Well, I'll gather the others and we will be on our way. I think that what we discuss and witness there will answer many of your questions and theories." Harry was left to ponder again as McGonagall left the room.
Moments later, she returned with Ron and Hermoine at her side.
"Harry, I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. I sometimes forget that you've lost people you love and you know how it feels. I understand that you don't want it to happen again," Hermione said. Harry placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at her.
"It's okay, Hermione, really. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore, but it just seems to occur when I try to protect them anyway. Ginny will be fine. She'll definitely be fine. But, enought of that. Professor? I believe that we have somewhere to go?" Harry looked questioningly at McGonagall. She smiled at his eagerness. Hermione looked dumbfounded at her teacher. She had seen McGonagall smile more times today, then in all the years she's known her.
"Yes, we are going to Hogwarts to discuss some business, and then you will be going to Diagon Alley with Hagrid. Do you all have your money and supply lists?" The trio nodded.
"Alright then, let's go. We'll Apparate to the Hog's Head, and then we will walk the rest of the way." Harry gave her a worried look. "I will be fine, Mr. Potter. Okay now, Hop to it!"



Chapter Six: A Surprise Meeting


    Hermione, as usual, decided to go first and she disappeared with a pop! Harry and Ron decided to leave at the same time, to see who would arrive first. Now, the trio were standing outside of the Hog's Head. A couple of minutes passed, and McGonagall had yet to appear. They became worried, but decided to wait a little longer before doing anything.
Finally, ten minutes later, just as Hermione was about to return to the Burrow, McGonagall appeared before them. She landed off-balance and fell to her knees. Ron and Harry started to rush over to her until she held up her hand in protest. She took a few deep breaths, then carefully stood up, moving one limb at a time. She brushed off her robes with her hands, sending dust particles onto the breeze.
"Well, it appears that I need to work on my landing, doesn't it?" McGonagall said, trying to be funny. The trio didn't believe a word of it. McGonagall had again turned white as a sheet. She began to walk towards Hogwarts silently with Ron, Harry, and Hermione following behind closely.
Hogwarts was up ahead, its spires glistening in the sunlight. Harry tried not to remember the last time he saw the castle from this angle. The last time he had been at school people cried, and he hurt the one he loved the most. Harry, for possibly the first time in his life, was not excited by the thought of returning to school.
Before they knew it, Filch was at the gate, allowing them to enter the grounds.
"Good afternoon, Headmistress," Filch greeted with a shallow bow. McGonagall nodded her head in his direction.
“Hello, Mr. Filch,” she replied.  She continued up the walk to the main door.  She muttered for several seconds before it opened.  Once inside, they went upstairs to the Headmistress’ office. 
“Chocolate frogs,” McGonagall said, winking at Harry.  “I decided to keep the password named for a sweet in Dumbledore’s memory.  Now, I would like you to wait outside the office until I come and get you.  Is that clear?”  The three young wizards nodded silently.  The gargoyle sprang to life, and they all stepped into the little alcove.  McGonagall proceeded to walk through the office door while Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited outside. 
When McGonagall walked into what was her office, she went to her desk and collapsed in her chair.  She was so overcome with emotion that she put her head in her hands and cried.  She had left the office pretty much the same as Dumbledore had left it.  She didn’t know what half of the silver instruments did, but she didn’t care. 
“Minerva, please.  Don’t do this,” a soft voice said.  It was so quiet that she almost believed that she had imagined it.  She looked up, her eyes red and puffy.  She looked at the wall and her eyes met with Dumbledore’s.  Though his eyes were painted, they still showed signs of severe concern.  McGonagall’s eyes once again filled with tears and she turned her head away. 
“Minerva?  Why won’t you look at me?  I know that I was never a good-looking man, but I can’t be that bad.”
“Albus, everything is falling apart.  We need you, we need your strength.  Without you, the Order is falling, people are giving up, I’m giving up,” McGonagall cried out.  Dumbledore moved out of his portrait and into one that was right in front of McGonagall’s eyes. 
“Look at me,” he pleaded.  She lifted her eyes to meet his. 
“You still have me, you all do.  You may not have my magical strength, but you still have my thoughts, my theories.  Something else has happened, hasn’t it?  What has happened to the Order?  What has happened to Harry?  What has happened to you?  You don’t look well.  I may not be able to physically help, but I am here to listen, and I can do what I can.  Talk to me.  Stop pretending that I’m gone forever.”  Dumbledore now had tears in his eyes.  Even though he was dead, he wasn’t nonexistent. 
“Kingsley Shacklebolt was killed in an attack today.  Tonks was wounded.  Remus and Alastar barely made it out alive.  Harry has broken up with Miss Weasley in order to protect her, and she in turn has vowed to stay in her room and starve.  She hasn’t even looked at her O.W.L. scores yet.  I have been searching for the remaining horcruxes night and day so this whole ordeal will be over with sooner.  Last night was the first night that I had had over two hours of sleep.  I could have had more, but my mind ponders theories constantly, keeping me awake.  But, aside from that, I don’t feel right.  I feel weak and helpless all the day.  You and I both know that I am a powerful witch, I certainly don’t deny it, but I am having a hard time performing even the simplest of spells.  I almost fell on my Apparition landing in front of Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger just now.”  Dumbledore looked at her, his brow twisted in thought. 
“Let me think on this awhile.  But, did you say that Harry is here?”  Dumbledore’s eyes lit up.
“Bring him in, bring him in!  I have much to discuss with him.”
“Do you think it wise that Potter see you so soon?  I mean, he hasn’t really gotten over y-your d-death.  His eyes grow watery at the mention of your name.  Don’t you think that it will overexcite him?” McGonagall asked nervously.
“No, Minerva.  He needs to know the truth.  I’ve always done everything I could to make him happy.  I know that he blames himself for my death, which is, naturally, false.  No, I must speak to him, tell him what I know.  You may send him in now.”  Dumbledore sat back in his painted armchair, amusement playing across his face.  It had been awhile since anything exciting had happened in this office. 
McGonagall went to the door and opened it.  She found the three young wizards with ears and flesh-colored strings dangling from their noses.  They looked up at her, deeply ashamed.
“Ahhh, the Weasley’s Extendable Ears.  Did you seriously think that I wouldn’t place a charm on the door that would prevent any forms of eavesdropping?” McGonagall scolded reproaching, though really quite amused.
“Mr. Potter, you may go in now.  We will join him later when he comes to retrieve us.”  Harry looked at her, bewildered.
“But, I thought you said that we had something to discuss.  Why am I going in alone?”
“There is someone in the office who wants to speak with you,” McGonagall started.  Harry’s face immediately showed signs of protest. 
“No, Mr. Potter, it is not the Minister.  Did you honestly think that I would let him talk to you alone without supervision?  No, this is someone different.  Go on now, get going,” McGonagall encouraged.  Harry took one more glance at his friends, and nervously walked through the office door. 
As he walked in, he immediately realized that there wasn’t anyone in the room.  He looked around and was surprised to find that all the delicate silver instruments were whirring and puffing in their usual places, clearly untouched.  He decided to look on McGonagall’s desk for some note or indication that someone had been there.  While shuffling through the few papers on her desk, he thought he heard someone cough.  He looked up, and air left his lungs.  He was face to face with Dumbledore.


Chapter 7: The Truth

Harry looked on, dumbfounded. 
“Surprised to see me, Harry?” his soft voice greeted.  Harry pinched his arms quickly to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.  When he had thoroughly assured himself that he was awake, his eyes welled with tears. 
“Professor?” Harry whispered, as though scared that he would disappear if he spoke too loud. 
“You need not be afraid, Harry.  I will not leave.  Come, come closer, conjure up a chair.  I would do it for you, but, as you can see, I am in no condition to do so,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. 
Harry walked up to the portrait and tried to stop the flow of tears from his eyes, to no avail.  He placed his fingers upon the painted shoulder of his old Headmaster.  Though a certain warmth seemed to emanate from it, all he could feel was the rough canvas.  He looked at his professor sadly. 
“It’s okay, Harry.  But, really, we need to talk, and seeing how it may take awhile, it might be in your best interest to conjure up a chair,” Dumbledore suggested.  Harry looked at him, shame etched upon his face. 
“But, Sir,” Harry began, “I don’t know how to do that”  He expected to hear disappointment coming from Dumbledore’s voice, but was shocked to hear cheerfulness instead.
“It’s not too hard, Harry.  Picture the kind of chair that you want to appear, wave your wand, and say ‘aparecio chair’, and it should appear.  Go on, try it,” Dumbledore prodded.
Harry briefly closed his eyes and pictured the chintz-like chair Dumbledore had used at his ministry hearing two years before.  He opened his eyes and said the incantation aloud.  The chintz chair appeared before him.  Dumbledore clapped his hands in excitement.
“Well done, Harry!” Dumbledore congratulated.  “And, might I add, you conjured up a very comfortable and familiar chair.”  Dumbledore winked at Harry, and Harry smiled through his teary eyes.
“That’s it, Harry.  I needed to see you smile.  It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”  Harry sat down in the chair, and looked at Dumbledore, waiting for him to start the discussion. 
“Okay, Harry, we must begin.  Now, I’m sure that you have had a particularly difficult summer.  First, my death, which I’m sure you blame yourself for.  Second, Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy got away, which would mean that you are seeking revenge.  Thirdly, your godfather has just been returned to you.  And, I hear that your, um, social life has been disrupted by your love and bravery.  Clearly, not one of your better summers.  So, we will start with the first topic, my death.”
Harry squirmed in his chair, turning his head away from his beloved teacher.  He though of how Dumbledore had used his only second to save himself to save the underage wizard heading toward the tower door that night.
“Harry, it was not your fault.  I wanted, needed to save you,” Dumbledore said.  Apparently, being a portrait didn’t mean that you couldn’t perform legilimancy anymore.  He continued to look away. 
“What is it with people not looking at me?  Harry, please look at me.  You need to hear this, you need to learn the truth,” Dumbledore pleaded.  Harry adjusted himself at looked at him. 
“Good.  Now, listen carefully.  My death was not your fault.  I knew that something was going to happen that night, and I knew that there was a good possibility that I may not live to see the next day.  As it turns out, I was right. 
I had known for a long time that Draco was attempting to kill me on Voldemort’s orders.  He was becoming desperate, but I knew that his other attempts were just there to keep me oblivious to the possibly successful plan that was in preparation.  Now, we need to discuss Severus Snape’s role in all of this.”  Harry’s ears went red.
“Don’t look like that, Harry,” Dumbledore began, his voice dropping to a whisper.  “I told him to kill me.”  Harry looked on in disbelief.
“Yes, Harry,” he started.  “I knew what was going to happen.  I was still giving Severus orders to spy on Voldemort’s side.  I made him promise me that if Draco could not do the job that Voldemort asked him to do, and other Death Eaters were present, then he needed to kill me himself.  He needed to keep his cover and Draco and his mother needed to be spared,” Dumbledore explained.
“So, w-when you said, ’Severus, please’,-”
“Yes, Harry.  I was begging him to kill me.  The hatred you saw etched upon his hate was the same look you probably wore when you had to force-feed me the potion.  He didn’t want to kill me, Harry.  When he first looked at me when he entered the tower, there was fear in his eyes.  He was silently protesting to frozen,.  So, when I spoke to him, I was reminding him of his orders and his promise.  You see, Harry?  It wasn’t your fault.  You needed to be frozen, I couldn’t risk losing you.  You are the only one who can save the wizarding and muggle worlds from Tom.”  Dumbledore watched Harry, waiting for his response.  He waited for several moments.
“I can’t believe this!  You sacrificed yourself for Malfoy?  Why would you do that?  He’s-He’s one of them!” Harry shouted.
“Harry, he’s not one of them.  He is only a young man, one who has been through a lot.  He didn’t want to kill me either.  Don’t you see?  He was only trying to do it to save his family.  There is good in a person who would do that,” Dumbledore replied.
“How do you know that he’s good?  I mean, I’ve been in school with him for years and I have never seen him show compassion to anyone.  He almost reminds me of Tom Riddle.  What if it was all an act?  I mean, can you really trust him?” Harry asked, refusing to believe that his least favorite classmate could be good and loving.
“You need to trust me, Harry.  I know that you have always tried to trust me, and that in doing that, sometimes it hurts us.  But, you need to trust me on this,” Dumbledore said.
“Okay, say that it’s all true.  Then, where are they now?  You must have set up a place for them to go to?” Harry questioned.  Dumbledore chuckled from within his frame. 
“Right you are, Harry,” he began. “Yes, I had secured a sort of ’safe house’ for them in a place called Shadow Boulevard.  It’s a tiny town, actually, it’s hardly a town.  The main street is practically deserted.  They will be living off of a tiny road called Inner End Road.  They are in house thirty-two.  All of the houses on that road have been boarded up, including theirs.  I had placed many guarding spells and enchantments on the house, making it virtually unfindable.”  Harry looked at him, confused. 
“Why are you telling me all of this, Professor?” Harry asked. 
“Because you need to go to them.  Severus possesses skills, knowledge, and items necessary for the final battle.  I know you don’t want to talk to them, let alone see them.  But, consider these discussions our modified private lessons, and this is our first class of term.  This will be your first homework assignment.  Understand?”