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Chapter 7 — I’m Even on my Knees

You’re standing over a hot cauldron feeling lightheaded.   Blood from the slits on your palms drips down the stirring rod and mixes with the pungent chemicals floating in the brass pot below.   The metallic taste of the third blood replenisher sours in your mouth, but you stir on and fight the waves of nausea that threaten to overwhelm your senses.

The book says when and not if you get sick to do it into the pot.   Necromancy — it’s not for the faint of heart or the weak-stomached.   Oddly it’s not the first time you’ve worked with your own vomit before.   Thundercloud was very convinced of the power contained in the fluids of the body.   Blood, bile, hair, sweat, and even waste all have been touched by the witch or wizard’s magic.   It’s primal and often disgusting.   Some try to compare the "art" of potion making to chemistry.   That usually holds up except for time like these when a bloke such as you happens to be doing the whole three witches from Macbeth thing.  

One thing’s for certain, the Harry Potter of twelve months ago would have recoiled in horror at the scene in front of him.   Fortunately, you aren’t that idiot anymore.

It’s probably a bit childish to imagine how angry Dumbledore is going to be, but you need that motivation right now to keep you going.   You needed his help to get at the Horcrux here at Hogwarts.   The locket isn’t here and it’s a good bet the cup isn’t as well.   You don’t need him nearly as much as he needs you.   When this works, because you’re not willing to accept that it won’t, it’s time to get the hell out of here.   Kwan is due back tomorrow and he sent an owl ahead simply saying he was successful and to pack for cold regions.

Kwan’s a man of frustratingly few words, but he knows how insecure Owl Post is, so his caution is understandable.   That doesn't make it any less irritating.

In typical wizarding world fashion, your little rant to Susan Bones has been the topic of Rita's commentary and all over the wireless for the last three days.   It's almost tempting to send a letter to Riddle and ask him why he really wants to rule all of this.   He must be truly nutters.   Most believe you've been lying low, simply attending classes and keeping your mouth shut to cover the truth — complex rituals take time.

"Does Puny Harry need another Potion?"   Your troll asks from his comfortable spot on his couch.   He's shrunken himself down to a reasonable size and is walking with an intentional limp.   With Hermione coming over to bother you on a daily basis, Hack's suite was the best place to dabble in slightly off-color magic.   Besides, who is going to question any strange smells coming out of Hack's room?   Bill is down in the Hogwarts library being seen and establishing his "plausible deniability", only one of you has that diplomatic immunity and if they threw your Cursebreaking buddy into Azkaban, Fleur would be upset and probably willing to level the prison to get him out.  

In a Fleur versus Azkaban matchup, even without assistance, your money is on Fleur.   "Not yet, but be sure to give me one right after I …."   You spend the next few seconds emptying your stomach and blink several times while your eyes water.   "Okay, give it to me."

Hack uncorks the bottle for you and holds it to your lips.   Choking it down you fight back the sensation to blow chunks again.   Only thirty more minutes of this to go before the two hours of chanting.   Who says magic isn’t fun?   At least you’ve narrowed down the name of the thing to "Chuck" or "Ralph".   "Barf" just wasn’t going to cut it.

Now that you've done your best bulimic impression you have to know, "Hack what's with the limp?"

"Hack is Harry's assistant, like greatest troll who ever lived — Igor.   Destroyed foolish wizard’s monster, killed foolish wizard, and fathered fifty-seven children by fifteen different trolls."

"I haven't heard that version before."

"Wizards always tell it wrong, supposed to be a love story.   Hack tell you sometime."

"I'm looking forward to it, buddy."   It can't be worse than this.

------

Dear Harry,

I will not claim to understand the position you now find yourself in.   Repairs continue here in the cavern.   Those same repairs were also the reason I have not strayed beyond the barrier to update my journal until this morning.   Please accept my apologies that I did not reply immediately.

As to your current position, given your description of the British press, I do not recommend a direct interview.   I would instead employ the Ambassadorial staff to prepare a written press release which can be interpreted, but not taken out of context as the spoken word can.  

Having seen my fair share of history, I will tell you that the world is full of those waiting for someone to shoulder their burdens.   Instead, seek to clarify your minor spat with this witch and turn it into a clarion call for action and personal responsibility in this conflict.

As to the conflict between yourself and Albus Dumbledore, I do not know the man, but I know the type.   He is as convinced that his course of action is the best and is unlikely to be dissuaded.   Steer a parallel course where you can and chose your battles wisely.   I suspect the footstool incident was sparked by his knowledge that you do not like to be placed in situations where you are helpless.   It is in your predator nature to chafe under that type of duress.

I approve of your plan to create the homoculus.   Of course, take that for what it is.   In the time of the real Conquistador who I ape, results were all that counted.   If a darker spell would aid in subjugation of a village or help achieve a goal, a blind eye was turned.   The level of hypocrisy would fill volumes, but you are merely trying to secure your freedom and this I know.   Freeing yourself will again establish that you are a force to be reckoned with and remove his hold over you.   Furthermore, it shows that you countered his provocation with a maneuver he did not expect rather than unleashing your fury.   It may force him to reevaluate his dealings with you.

Finally, you are at a juncture where your worst enemy is yourself.   Recognize that you have the power, but not the experience to wield it.   I do not seek to slight you, but even you must admit this.   All parties seeking to use you for good or ill will attempt to exploit this fact to their advantage.   To achieve victory, you must be your own harshest critic and be willing to admit when you have made missteps.  

Until our next communication I remain,

Hernando

Often, it takes an outsider to keep things in perspective.   The statue of Hernando de Soto sequestered in his hidden city is about as far removed from your conflict as possible.   You hand the journal to Bill who takes it from you and points to the thing making gurgling noises in front of you.

"I suppose this is the part where I say congratulations.   It has your eyes, sort of — at least the one that manages to open.   Do you feel any different?"

"Actually Bill, I do.   I'm pretty sure Ralph here is chipping in now.   I think it's about time we brought the old man in on our new arrival."

"Ralph?"

"Chuck sounded too much like your brother, so I went with Ralph.   Isn't he adorable?   Yeah, I know.   He's disgusting.   I almost named him Albus Severus Potter, but that just seemed cruel.   Why don't I slip out to Hogsmeade and you make a discreet inquiry on how well the wards are charging?"

He spends a minute scanning Hernando's correspondence.   "He'd make a good Headmaster if we could get rid of Dumbledore.   As for your plan, Harry, you should just go straight out the gates.   Whenever you try to 'slip out' anywhere, chaos ensues."

"Very funny, but the senior ambassador has requested that I go see Mr. Santos for instructions, so either way I've got a legitimate reason for going."

"De Soto’s advice coming a bit too late?"

"No, Ambassador Dimperio seems to be thinking the same thing.   Initially, we hoped it would blow over, but you know Skeeter and her ilk.   He and some of his staff are coming to the castle this evening and we’re going to hammer out either a press release or, Merlin help me, a speech.   Obviously, you know which one I’d prefer."

Bill nods as you set "Ralph" back down in his/its bassinet.   Dobby is taking care of the thing's feeding, but it’s a good bet that Dobby and quality child care aren't necessarily a proper match.   Look no further than how Draco turned out.   Fortunately, that's where your former best mate Hermione comes in.   She doesn’t know it just yet, but with power comes responsibility and that’s what she’s just about to get.

------

"I said he's not allowed in here."

You put on your best innocent face and look at Rosmerta.   "Hack's my bodyguard.   I could have him stand outside, but that would sort of announce where I am."   You always recall her being in a better mood.   She's a bit of a grouch these days.   The war must be tough on business or Rosmerta was expecting you to save her arse as well.

"If he puts so much as one toe out of line, Ambassador Potter, I guarantee you'll have yourself a diplomatic incident."  

"He'll be … we'll be good.   I'm just meeting a friend or two."   Odds are that if there's an incident here, it'll be much more destructive than Hack.   Where you go chaos has a way of following, or maybe you’re the one following chaos around — it get’s hard to tell after awhile.

Grumbling, the barkeep points to a booth in the corner and reaches for her handbag.   A waitress comes by and you order a Butterbeer and Hack gets ale.   Adao Santos, the head of the Hogsmeade force slips in with his partner.   The partner moves off to the opposite side of the inn.   So far, the Death Eaters have been leaving the Peacekeepers alone and preferring to engage in hit and run attacks against isolated targets farther away from here.

Of course that won’t last forever, but even so, your mercenaries are keeping the Death Eaters second guessing the safety of their own estates.   Rumor has it that the Carrows, who seem to take incest to levels that make even the purebloods queasy, barely made it off the grounds of their one bedroom hovel alive.

"Good afternoon, Ambassador."

"Mr. Santos.   How are things here in Hogsmeade?"

"It is the calm before the storm.   It reminds me of the months preceding elections in our government — a few weeks of tense peace interrupted by an occasional bloodbath.   If you truly intend to return to Brazil after all of this, you would be wise to keep that in mind.   There have been no reports of Death Eater activity in Hogsmeade.   In part, I believe this is due to the fact that their children attend Hogwarts too."

"Good advice, sir.   I’ll keep all this in mind.   You are aware that the Ambassador will be coming to the castle this evening?"

Santos chuckles, "Straight to the point, I see.   Yes, I am already aware that he will be on the move.   We will be ready to provide a security escort from here to the castle.   The official time of his arrival will be six o’clock, but anticipate that he will arrive sometime between five thirty and six thirty depending on his schedule.   Please be ready to greet him at the entrance.   I am assuming Headmaster Dumbledore is aware of all this?"

"Bill Weasley is bringing him up to speed on this as we speak."   No need to mention the "other things" that Bill is checking on.

"Very well Ambassador Potter, by your leave."   He stands to go and you bid him farewell knowing that the man doesn’t particularly care for you.   It’s not that you were given this privilege when you don’t deserve it — hell that happens in governments everywhere.   You think it’s because you’re not really Brazilian.    

Were you a betting Animagus, you’d have to think that Dimperio’s maneuver sending you down here is just a reminder that you need to be including him in "the loop" as it were.

Finishing your butterbeer, you opt to take the long way back to the castle and pause by the Hogshead.   Most students avoid it because of its "rough and tumble" reputation.   You’re not really there for the ambiance, but for a conversation with the owner who is presently regarding you and your troll.   Hack told you during one of his romps here that Aberforth said to stop by.

He doesn’t really greet you except to scowl in your direction.   "Ayden, mind the bar, I’m going to stretch my legs and feed the animals out back."

You and Hack exit and head around back and watch the old wizard check on his pigs and levitate a bucket of slop and dump it into the trough.   Stepping into the area you feel the telltale signs raising hairs on the back of your neck.   You just stepped across a ward line.   A tap of your wand against the curse breaking glasses you wear in place of the eyewear you don’t need anymore shows an intricate weaving of colorful wards running all across the back of the bar.

"Oh don’t worry yourself, Potter.   This is probably the most secure place in all of Hogsmeade to speak.   So, you’re the youngster that has Albie all up in arms.   I shoulda known you were trouble last year with that whole defense club thing.   Of course, you looked like a deer in a light spell back then."  

"I’ve had a few run ins with your brother recently.   I’m likely to have a few more in the weeks to come."

"Spunk too!   Well, I reckon you’re gonna need it too, boy.  An old shit like my brother doesn’t just give up his spot in the sun without making you work for it!"

You cautiously sense that he doesn’t necessarily care for his brother all that much, but like anything involved with Dumbledore, it could be a half-truth.   "So why did you call me here today, sir?"

He fishes in his pocket and hands you a small bag.   Inside of it is an oddly shaped object, a crystal honeycomb.   When you touch it, it glows with a faint reddish hue.   "I wanted to take your measure for myself and see the boy who would be king.   I’m still trying to figure out who to root for."

"Wouldn’t Dumbledore blood run true in the end?"

"Ye’d think that, but there’s not a lot of love ‘tween the two of us.   Let me tell you something, Potter, I’ve lived a long and painful life.   A good deal of that pain can be found lying there at my brother’s feet.   Always looking so far ahead, he’s not usually aware of what he’s walking over, or whose feet he’s stomping.   I bought this bar and keep an eye on the town for him, sure enough, but he also knows that I’m always watching him as well."

Interesting man, sort of an earthy version of his brother, "So, you’ve met me.   Now what?   What is this thing anyway?"

"I’ll answer the last first.   That device detects a certain kind of contamination that we’re both familiar with, but we shouldn’t really speak of, now should we?"

There’s a moment of silence before he continues, "Your Troll friend has a lot more contamination on him if that’s worrying you.   If you had more on you, I’d have probably had you pegged for a Summoner rather than someone who’d fought one."

Tilting your head, "Tell me more about this contamination."

"It’s a stain on your soul, boy.   Stains don’t just go away overnight.   Stains like that take years to fade, but take my word for it, they go away eventually.   Even in victory, you still lose a bit of yourself.   That’s part of what makes them so dangerous."

You’ve suddenly got a good idea who Albus Dumbledore’s expert on daemons might be.   "So the stories about you and the goats …"

"Oh, it had goat’s heads, alright, but that’s an old story.   One day, if I see fit, I’ll tell it to you.   Meanwhile, we need to talk about that little note that dementor handed you."

"Have you translated it yet?"   Again, the back of a bar near a chicken coop and a pig sty seems a bit odd for such a discussion.   It’s ironic that this would be a "secure" area.

"If you’ve studied the right books, it doesn’t take long.   They want to know if you speak for the Masters?"

"What?"

"Oh come one, Potter.   Did you think they were giving you an order for fish and chips?   They’re minor demons, left on our side of existence after the last Great War.   The ones who stuck with the Ministry are just hanging around waiting for their ‘real’ masters to come back.   Now the question is, how are you gonna answer them, Harry Potter?   So, do you want to tell my brother or do you want me to have that honor?"

A hint of a smile crosses your face.   "I'd like to do it, if you don't mind."

He cackles showing you that even though good dental care in the wizarding world is never far away that some still don’t bother.   "Well now, it looks like I got me someone else to watch as well.   It’s a rarity when someone ends up challenging him for the title of top dog, most times they’re older than you and think they know what they’re getting into.   Still, part of me wants to see him come out on top, but the other part is so damn tired of seeing him as king of the pile that I think I’d enjoy seeing Albie knocked down a couple of pegs.   You think he’s a shit now; you shoulda tried growing up with him."

Pointing to the object and the bag he says, "Go on and give me that back now and get on back to the castle.   I’ve already held you up long enough.   When you tell Albie that we had this little chat, make sure to tell him I said his game’s been slipping for the last decade and that I don’t think he’s got it anymore.   You tell him that for me, Potter."

The honeycomb glow fades a bit in intensity but still remains when he takes it from you.   Aberforth glares at it and then dismisses you.   It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "inner demons".   You watch as he walks into a shed/chicken coop.   An animal scream follows seconds later and Aberforth emerges with a dead chicken in hand.   The creepy old geezer did it without his wand to boot.  

Less than a minute later, you and Hack are back on the path to the castle.   Hack offers his usual perspective.   "Old wizards strange.   When trolls get too old and stop making sense, we kill them."

"It’s not that easy, mate, but your people might have it right."   Top dog, huh?   You have no interest in being a dog.   Cats are far cooler and very territorial.

------

If you ever needed a reminder of your weaknesses, this meeting is driving them home.   "In the future, Harry, when you feel the need to speak in a public setting and on the record, I recommend that you stick to the various topics and talking points I have assembled for you on these scrolls."

The stack of paperwork in front of you doesn’t look all that big.   "This can’t possibly cover everything."   Mr. Silva and your dancing partner Sheila Lopez are also in the room witnessing your "education" in the art of politics.

Ambassador Dimperio laughs, "Of course it doesn’t, but that is the beauty of Politics.   You don’t actually answer any questions.   You start to answer, but in lieu of a reply, you tie the question to one of your talking points.   I’ll give you a demonstration.   Ask me about what my opinions on the rising cost of … let’s say Dragon Meat."

You feel a bit silly, but go ahead anyway.   "Ambassador, what are your opinions on the rising cost of Dragon Meat?"

He composes himself and looks thoughtful, "That’s a very good question, Mr. Potter.   I suspect that the rising cost of goods represents the market reaction to the climate of uncertainty that surrounds England these days.   As long as people continue to support this Dark Lord they should expect the prices they pay on most commodities to rise.   It is a symptom of the far greater problem facing this country.   The Peacekeeping forces from South America are committed to ensuring that the population will be able to move about in relative safety through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade."

Dimperio spreads his hands indicating that he is done.   "Practice using terms such as, it is a symptom and yet another example, these allow you to move away from the subject of your question to back to areas you are more comfortable with.   Political rhetoric is often every bit as effective as a properly cast Confundus charm.   Were you being groomed for a life in this harsh environment, you would find me and Mr. Silva to be far more critical of your performance.   Since you are not, I will simply instruct you in the basics and tell you to minimize the damage that you cause and make my life easier."

You give him a determined look, "I’ll do my best."

"See that you do.   Otherwise, I will find it necessary to assign you your own spokesperson.   Miss Lopez is the only person I can spare from the embassy staff at the moment and I am reluctant to place her in close proximity to you because of your involvement in this war."

Fabricio Silva nods solemnly while his niece looks slightly put off at the idea that she can’t defend herself.   The touchstone on your table glows indicating that someone is at the door who can actually read directions.   Your wand cancels the privacy wards and opens the door to your least favorite Head Girl.  

Hermione curtsies to the ambassador, "Headmaster Dumbledore sends his regards and would be honored if you would join him in his office."

"Mr. Silva and I would be delighted to meet Headmaster Dumbledore.   Ambassador Potter won’t be able to join us as he has matters that he needs to attend to here.   Miss Lopez, assist him in drafting the rest of the press release."

Watching the two men leave, you feel only partially slighted.   There’s nothing in Dumbledore’s office that interests you.

Sheila huffs the moment they leave and taps her fingers against the bottom of her chin.   She’s one of those people where half the conversation involves what she is doing with her hands.   "I think they’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.   Am I in any less danger if the Death Eaters decide to attack the embassy?   They say the wards here are the best in this land."

You shrug and recast the privacy wards, "Against an assault, probably, but against a singular attack or assassination attempt, it’s not something you want to bet your vault on."

"You have a troll for a bodyguard and employ one of the most expensive Hitwizards on the planet.   That’s in addition to the presence of this Dumbledore wizard.   Perhaps you carry this paranoia a bit too far at times?"

Fighting off the urge to tell her how you may ultimately need protection from Dumbledore, you reply, "So, let me see this press release."

"Certainly.   I have a basic draft, but what it needs is your touch.   Everyone knows that you are an Englishman.   This needs to read like it was written by someone from this country, so my word choices might seem off.   I need you to look through it and correct it.   This would be much easier if you lived in Portugal and we both spoke Portuguese as our first language."

"My life would probably be easier as well, but we work with what we have.   Let me see what you’ve got so far."

She hands you the parchment and you begin looking it over as if you are some type of know it all.   Sheila is right, it doesn’t really sound like it has been written by someone from England.   Taking a biro in your hand, you start underlining the problem parts and making notes in the margins.   With your free hand you point to the small icebox and tell your former Dodgespell teammate to indulge herself.   She confessed during one of your dances that she has taken a liking to English butterbeer.

"I was reading in one of the hometown papers that your lady friend Karina is getting married next month."

Wow, that was fast!   She must already be embracing her new role in the Colastos family.   "Sadly, I haven’t been keeping up with news from that part of the world, but I’m glad to see that she has her life back on track."

Sheila laughs and puts her feet on the empty part of the table allowing some of her skirt to fall away and showing a generous amount of leg.   She doesn’t have that much in the way of a chest, but her legs are in nice shape and they are firmly attached to her most alluring asset — her bum.   "All the more reason you need a personal assistant, Ambassador Potter.   Part of my position at the embassy involves summarizing the news from both the Americas and Europe into a daily report for Ambassador Dimperio.   I could just as easily do that from here and send the report to him by owl."

From both the sound and the "look" of things, Sheila is lobbying for the position both on a professional and personal level.   How about the direct approach?   "You seem to want this job.   Why?"

She smiles and runs her free hand through her short black hair, "I could say that I like the danger, but that might scare you.   I could say that you are young and rather attractive, but that might make me seem superficial.   Perhaps, I might even say that you already have more power, wealth and influence than most will ever achieve in a lifetime, but that might make me sound like a social climber.   Instead, I will say that I am young enough to not fully understand my own reasons, but I simply want the job and am willing to accept the risk that it involves."

Well there’s a dose of in your face honesty.   Dimperio may not know how you’re freeing yourself from Dumbledore’s control, but he does know that you’ll be on the move as soon as Kwan returns.   Having an "official spokesperson" might fit into it, especially if Dumbledore will seek to perpetuate the lie that you’re still hanging around here.   Charlie and Tonks could very well get their old jobs back.

"That’s a fairly persuasive argument, Miss Lopez, but I’ll need to consider it first and decide whether it is worth persuading the Senior Ambassador to place you here.   Both he and his Chief of Staff clearly don’t like the idea.   What do you think you’d get out of it?"

"You keep highlighting the bad things that happen to those associated with you.   You championed Karina Machado, who was destitute, and now she is marrying into one of the most powerful families in our country."

"Your former boyfriend’s brother and his partner Amanda were associated with me as well.     They both died."   You leave off the fact that it was you who did the killing.

"Yes, some happy endings and some sad ones as well, the papers print one thing, but I knew Paulo and Amanda well enough to understand that they likely deserved the fate they received.   I assume there was betrayal involved?"

Looking up from the half-edited parchment.   "I’m not at liberty to speak of those matters, Miss Lopez and you would be wise to not ask again."

"I agree.   I was just making a point that bad things happen to those who betray you.   I have no intentions of doing such a thing and thus, the chances of something bad happening to me decrease while the odds of something good happening increase."

Isn’t she a silvery-tongued little witch?   "Fair enough, I still need to think this through.   Bollocks!   What now?"   You just noticed the touchstone glowing again.   What does Hermione want this time?

You repeat your earlier movements and open the door.   It’s not Hermione.   Instead, it’s Luna.   "Harry, I’ve been waiting for …" she trails off getting a good look at the situation.

"Luna this is, Sheila Lopez from the embassy.   Sheila, this is my friend Luna Lovegood."

Recently, you’ve become a student of body language.   The sudden tension evident in Luna indicates an ominous portent.   "Yes, she was your dancing partner at the embassy ball.   It’s nice to meet you."

Maybe it’s the sudden flushing, or the fact the Luna didn’t immediately jump into her "Looney" persona, but alarm bells quietly begin to ring on the fringe of your conscious.   Right now the ill-positioned skirt and the generous portions of thigh don’t really help matters either.   "Right in one.   We’re doing a press release to counter the slurs of the Prophet.   Would you like to give us a hand?"

"No, I dropped by to see if you were free, but since you’re busy I’ll leave."   She spins on her heels and bolts from the room.  

Sheila shakes her head and rubs her elbow with her palm.   You recall it to be some kind of gesture about jealousy or something.   "Let her go.   You have more important things to do, Ambassador."

You toss the parchment back to her and start towards the door.   "Rewrite what I’ve marked up and when I get back we can finish it."

------

You catch up with her while she's waiting for the staircase to move.   "Alright Luna, what's going on?"

"Leave me alone, Harry."

"Look, you don't have to be jealous…"

"So, you're behind a locked door with privacy wards with a woman in a short skirt and a loose top and I'm not supposed to think anything's amiss?"

Staring at her flushed face you reach a conclusion.   This isn't a very flattering side of Luna.   Not only is this her first real relationship, it's probably her first real friendship.   The big problem here is that you don't have the time to be the kind of caring and nurturing type — your well of human kindness has never been very full to begin with and as of late, its scraping bottom.   The staircase swivels into position and Luna starts to head down it.   Your arm prevents her and you cast a hurried privacy bubble.

"Let me go.   I'm sure your friend is waiting for you."   She says harshly.

"Yes, so we can get back to work. There's nothing going on.   Stop being jealous and just try trusting me for a change."

"You want me to trust you, but I'm just around when you need a snog.   I'm not a girlfriend, I'm a distraction."

"Where is this coming from?"

"I overheard her."

"Who?   Sheila?"

"No, Bell."

"Katie?   What's she have to do with anything?"

Luna's face scrunches up.   "I heard her in the library with her friend Leanne.   She's all hung up on this debt thing.   She thinks it might go away if she just shags you!"

"What makes you think I would shag Katie?   She's just a friend."

"Because you're a guy!   Because you've already done it before with that Karina woman!   Hell, because Fleur is just trying to shag you through me!"

"What?"

"Oh please!   All these little hints and suggestions!   She might as well brew up a batch of polyjuice and shag you as me!"

Alright, try the reassuring route.   "Luna, you’re overreacting.   I’m not interested in Katie, Fleur’s just a good friend, more importantly she’s my best friend’s fiancé, and Sheila is probably going to be my embassy assigned spokesperson."

"She looked awfully cozy in there."

"Yeah, Sheila was telling me how being my ‘mouthpiece’ could be great for her career.   Being told by someone how they’re planning to reap the benefits of being associated with me is a real turn on."

"Just like that Karina woman was using you to protect her son?   You found that to be a turn on, didn’t you?   I recall having to pry the truth of the matter out of you."

Damn this girl can be frustrating!   "Point number one, at that time we weren’t dating.   Point number two, it’s over.   Karina is getting married."

"Fine, what about Amy?"

When did she find out about Amy?   "How do you know about Amy?"

"Fleur told me.   Obviously you weren’t going to."

You’ll have to take this up with Fleur at some point.   Maybe she really is trying to sabotage you?   Hell, did she tell her about Lauren too?   "Again, we weren’t dating then.   In fact, you were threatening to turn over my whereabouts to Dumbledore at that time.   As to why I wouldn’t mention it, take a look at the expression on your face.   That’s why."

"So, it’s not just things about the war that you’re keeping from me?"

Part of you admires her tenacious ability to continue twisting an argument around.   Clearly this has been stewing inside her mind since whenever she found out about Amy.   Of course, the other part wouldn’t mind throttling some sense into her right about now.   "We’ve only been dating for a few weeks, Luna.   If you had asked about Amy or Lauren for that matter, I would have been embarrassed, but I would have told you about either of them.   Instead, you’ve been holding onto this so you could use it in a fight.   Congratulations Luna, you scored a point.   Was it worth it?"

If possible, she looks angrier.   "Who the bloody hell is Lauren?"

You just scored a point of your own.   Okay, apparently Fleur didn’t mention Lauren.   "Just a second ago, you wanted full disclosure, make up your mind!"

"You unbelievable slag!   I’m through with you!   Go shag your assistant, go shag Katie, go shag Fleur and everyone else for all I care!"

"For fucks’ sake Luna, leave Fleur out of this."

"Look how quick you are to defend her.   You know she wants you and I'm tired of being her stand in."

"Alright, this isn't working.   You want to call it off, fine, but be honest with yourself.   I’m not the one with the problem.   You are."

That stops her.   "What do you mean?"

Despite appearances, you try to be a nice guy, but there are periods where you have a relapse or two.   "Grow up Luna.   You’ve got trust issues.   Until you get by them, this isn’t going to work.   I was making time for you and not trying to push you in some direction you weren’t ready for.   What thanks do I get for it?   None!   Instead, I get this. Fine, you want to be through.   We’re through.   I was leaving on one of my trips anyway.   Now you can go back to being ‘Looney’ all the time."

You finally release her arm and she flees down the stairs.   You should go after her, but what good would it do?   The throbbing in your head is the start of a big headache.   Hermione passes her coming up the stairs.

"Is something wrong, Harry?   Did you and Luna have a fight?"

Holding up your hand, "Not tonight, Hermione.   I'm tired of fighting with you and that's all we'll end up doing.   For once, just let it be."   You spin and walk back to your quarters while trying to convince yourself that it’s all Luna’s fault.

The problem is you know that’s not entirely true.

------

In the early morning you finish packing what you need.   Sheila indicated that she was more than willing to console you if you wanted.   Frankly, you weren’t in the mood and furthermore, you didn't want to make Luna right.   For someone who has supposedly been "turned loose," you've been caged up far too long.   That’s about to change.   Bill is fetching Dumbledore right now.

Luna hasn’t made an appearance either.   That’s a big effing surprise.  

You knock on Hermione's door and wait.   A minute goes by before she answers in a dressing gown.   "What is it Harry?"

"I'm leaving the castle today."

"You can't!   What about the wards?   Is this about you and Luna?"

You suppose it could look that way to her.   "No.   This is about the war.   Follow me."

You have to hold her in the hallway, while good old Hack gets dressed.   He seems to have taken a liking to sleeping au natural.   By the time he's ready Bill and Dumbledore have joined you.

"Good morning Harry.   William was most circumspect with the details, simply saying that you have solved the ward issue."   Bill knows this is your show.

You open the door and usher them in.   Hermione gasps when she sees the thing in the bassinet.

Dumbledore scowls, "A blood anchor, Harry?   Dabbling further into the Dark Arts I see.   I am very disappointed in you."

His "all knowing" armor takes another ding.   "Aberforth says that you're slipping.   I think he might be right.   Either way, your approval doesn’t really interest me anymore.   By the way, he's translated the message.   If you want to know, go give him a visit.   Meanwhile, I'd like you to meet Ralph Potter.   He'll be handling your ward charging needs during my absence."

"You realize that I should destroy this abomination.   I would be well within my rights."

"It's already part of the ward system.   What will destroying it do to the wards?   Furthermore, I'd be oath bound to stop you and with your oath not to harm me, I'm guessing the fight will be one sided."

Dumbledore’s stare might as well be a dagger hurled at you, "You play a dangerous game, Harry."

"It’s nothing more than using the loopholes of an oath I was forced into.   It’s not my specialty I admit, such manipulations are more your style, but since the wards continued to charge while I was in town — albeit at a slower rate, it seems that Ralph is an acceptable proxy for my presence here."

The old man quickly assesses the situation.   For the moment, he concedes with an odd smile that shocks you and makes you that much more worried.     He actually looks impressed.   "As always, when placed in a crucible, you have responded.   A most unusual solution to your problem, I congratulate you."

You were prepared for his ire.   Instead, he seems to be patting you on the back and trying to take some credit for this.   Maybe when you’ve become too jaded, this will all seem like one big game to you as well.   Either way you should tell him what he wants to hear.   "You're right.     I couldn't have done it without you Dumbledore.   Without all the obstacles and problems you’ve created for me, I wouldn't have come this far.   You're some educator."

"Harry!"

"Oh come off it Hermione, he uses people with little or no concern for them.   You still believe he cares and that’s your problem.   Anyway, I've had Dobby looking after the blood bag…"

"Did Mister Harry Potter call Dobby?"   The elf appears as if on cue.

"No, Dobby."

"Dobby has been very careful not to overfeed creature … again," the deranged elf says.   "Dobby make certain creature is bathed six times a day.   Dobby clean up all its messes.   Dobby watches him constantly.   Dobby hasn't slept yet.   Dobby won't let Mister Harry Potter down!   Dobby …"

You cut the neurotic bundle of energy off.   "Thank you Dobby.   You're doing a wonderful job.   Why don't you go back to the kitchen and start working on my breakfast.   Afterwards, get some rest."  

Waiting for him to disappear you return to what you were about to say.   "As you can see, he's not exactly the wisest choice for unsupervised child care.   That's where you come in Hermione."

"You want me to watch that?"   There's a hint of indignation in her voice.   Okay, it's more than a hint.   It's pretty overt.   "It's a hideous abomination!"

Dumbledore strokes his long beard.   "Do not worry; I will assign Winky to assist you in this endeavor, Miss Granger.   We cannot change what has been done and this does further extend our protections.   Life often forces one to make the best of an uncomfortable situation."

She gapes at him while you continue, "I'm guessing you don't know much about these things, Hermione.   Most of them only last twelve months at best; with this being my first attempt, I’m guessing six months.   So, it means I have to come back eventually.   Until then, you have a private suite and most importantly you're in this just as far as I am.   The wards are just as much your problem as they are mine.   Deal with it.   Use Dobby and Winky to mind it and supervise them for all I care.   Of course, we can always switch and you go off to fight a Dark Lord and his minions — oh wait, we can’t.   Stupid prophecy!"

Making her supervise a couple of house elves during this task is probably icing on a very messy cake, but it’s not exactly like you’re going to be out having a jolly old time.

Hermione "sucks it up" for the moment and shuts her pie hole.   Naturally, this is the cue for Dumbledore to get back into the conversation.   "From this, I can assume that your man has located the whereabouts of the missing item."

"Yes.   He knows.   I don’t."

"Your Mr. Kwan is quite resourceful.   My sources are still trying to meet with the goblin known as ‘The Arranger’.   I can assume that you do not wish me to accompany you on this expedition."

"We both know you’re going to stick Tonks here playing me again.   If the locket is too far away, we know she won't fool Voldemort.   The two of us gone at the same time might make the castle too inviting of a target."

"Have you considered that I might have young Nymphadora impersonate not you, but me?   I do not share your unfortunate connection to Tom."

You look at Bill.   He’s clearly trying to figure out if the benefits of having Dumbledore along outweigh the fact that he is a ruthless untrustworthy bastard.

Bill renders his judgment.   "Since we plan on negotiating with this collector, Harry has enough clout as an ambassador from Brazil.   Harry also has the funds that support us and the Order.   Let us handle this, Headmaster.   If we need you we’ll send for you."

Wow!   Bill leads with a blunt dismissal of one of the most powerful wizards in the world.   You weren't the only one changed in the jungle!   It’s an upgrade from what you had planned on saying.   You were about to say that you needed Dumbledore along like you needed a case of genital warts.   Maybe Bill should have been the Ambassador?

"Naturally, I do not approve, but I understand your reluctance.   I will stand by to assist as you see fit.   Perhaps as a gesture of good faith, we could agree on a mutually acceptable member of the Order to accompany you.   Perhaps, I could offer you Alastor’s services?   Officially, he is a security consultant with the Ministry and not technically on active duty."

You like the idea of having both Kwan and Moody watching your back.   They should be a formidable duo.   One look at Bill confirms it.   "Moody’s fine.   If you can convince him, I’ve got no objections."

"Very well I shall go locate him at once."   Dumbledore turns and walks away at a brisk pace leaving a confused looking Hermione Granger in his wake.

You can’t resist.   "Is it finally sinking in, Hermione?   There’s the wizard on the chocolate frog card and then there’s the real thing that’s as pure as yellow snow.   I’ve come to the conclusion that, since he wasn’t really training me, he expected me to die facing Voldemort in the hopes that I’d weaken him enough that Dumbledore could finish him off.   The problem is I’m not a lamb to be led to the slaughter."

She nods slowly.   "Harry, do be careful.   Even if they don’t know it, a lot of people are depending on you."

It’s the first time since you’ve been back that you don’t have the urge to be mean to her.   Ralph makes some kind of gurgling noise and Hermione cringes.   You smile at her, "I think he likes you."

Seconds later your heightened sense of smell catches a whiff of something awful.   That says quite a bit considering how many nasty odors Hack has exposed you to.   Covering your face, you mutter, "Then again, maybe not."

Hermione is already drawing her wand to cast an air clearing charm.   Hack simply shrugs, indicating that it wasn't him, and nods respectfully at the thing in the bassinet.

------

Kwan doesn't look any worse for wear except for a nasty jagged cut on his cheek.   At the edges of the bandage, you can see blackened flesh where a cursed goblin dagger left its mark.

You also note that Kwan is sporting a new dagger dangling from his belt.

Bill looks around the Shrieking Shack while momentarily lost in thought.   "Back in my seventh year, I had to check this place out.   No ghosts, no wards.   Needless to say, I was disappointed.   Surprisingly enough, I learned that old abandoned places were a turn on for some witches."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?   So Kwan, what information did this Arranger have to offer?"

"Goblin did not want to talk.   I convinced him.   You might say getting information a lot like pulling teeth."   Kwan dumps six shiny golden teeth on the table to emphasize his point.

That had to have hurt.   "Couldn't you have just used Crucio?"

The Korean laughs.   Even his laugh is sinister, "What makes you think I didn't?   Either way, not important.   Goblin talked to me and now goblin talk to no one else."

Bill looks concerned, "That could have repercussions.   He was a powerful goblin."

"True.   Sometimes solving one problem creates two more, but it was necessary.   Greedy creature can't tell anyone else what he told me."

It's a chilling reminder never to make Kwan mad at you.   "So where is the locket?"

"Goblin sold it to a wizard.   Wizard comes from Russia — the southern end of the Ural mountains.   He rides a Thestral and is called The Red Horseman."   Kwan looks at Bill knowingly.

For his part, Bill pales slightly.   "Are you sure?   Shit, we might need more than Moody as backup."

"What's there?"   You ask as Kwan nods to your fellow ward crafter.   It's another of those instances where you have no idea what they are talking about.   Since both of them look concerned, it's obviously not good news.

"Harry, there are some things people don't talk about — some places people don't go.   Somewhere in the Ural mountains is a valley and in that valley there's an ancient crone named Baba Yaga, the Bone Mother."

You'd read about her hut that walks on giant chicken legs; even going so far as to make a few jokes about it.   "She's still alive?   She must be as old as the Flamels!"

Kwan says, "We should bring the mercenaries too.   Hope she will deal with us, but if we have to fight we will need backup."

Bill goes on to tell you the rumors and myths surrounding the witch.   It is widely believed that she mentored Gellert Grindelwald in the Dark Arts and elemental magic for the price of Rasputin's murder and his help bringing about the end of the Romanovs.  

"It's never easy is it?"   What bothers you even more is the memory of Rowena Ravenclaw telling you that retrieving Helga's Cup would be your toughest challenge.   If going into the lair of a witch that makes Dumbledore look like a spring chicken is what's required to get the Locket, what the world are you going to face trying to get the Cup?

The "This is Troubling" scale just spiked at "Bloody Fucking Hell".

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