Well of Shadows
Developments
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Thirteen
~ Developments ~
Harry Potter was hot. Very hot indeed. Orange and yellow flames were dancing up his robes, which he had just set alight while pacing too close to his office's fire. This was the cue for panicked
slapping of the fire and a volley of choice swearwords that could curdle fresh milk. Finally putting the minor blaze out, he removed the charred garment and mournfully observed, "Well, that's the end
of this robe."
"That's what happens when you don't look where you're pacing," Ginny laughed.
"Oh, put a sock in it," he told her, waving his hand over the scorched robe and instantly repairing the fire damage.
One of Ginny's elegant auburn eyebrows curved upwards. Sitting at his desk, which was almost lost under mounds of parchment and piles of books, Ginny set the manuscript she was reading down and looked at him. "My, you're in a bit of a snit today."
Harry sighed and tossed his robes over the back of a nearby chair. "Sorry, Gin. It's just that I'm getting a little frustrated with this. It's nearly three months and we've covered so little ground. At this rate we'll never be ready to disperse the Well when the time comes."
"We knew this wouldn't be fast and easy, Harry," she told him. Harry sank into the chair opposite her, not looking very happy. Ginny must have read his expression better than he thought, since she stood and came around the desk to stand by him. She knelt down next to him and took his hands in both of hers.
~There's more to it than just our lack of progress~ she ventured silently. Harry looked into her bright brown eyes and reluctantly nodded confirmation of her suspicion. When he didn't say anything, she quietly prompted, "What is it?"
Sighing deeply he answered, "Term's ending in a week. Christmas holidays."
Ginny immediately understood. "Hermione."
Harry dropped his face into his hands and ran them through his hand, bringing them up slamming them against the armrests of his chair. His frustration was palpable, as was his exhaustion. It had been nearly three months since he and Ginny had learned that Hermione's parents planned to withdraw her from Hogwarts. At the end of the term, the beginning of the holidays, she would be returning home and possibly not returning.
"Dammit!" he swore, hitting his thigh with a fist. "I've tried everything and nothing works! I've sent letters, over a dozen, trying to explain things to them. They're not even bothering to reply any more! They think I'm just some child-"
"You are just a child, Harry," Ginny gently interrupted. "We all are."
"No, we're not!" he pressed. "I'm not a child! I'm Hermione's friend! And Hermione's not a child either. She's a witch, the best damn witch I've ever known."
Ginny smiled playfully. "Including me?"
He did not rise to the tease, preferring to glower instead. "Don't try and twist my words, Gin. You know what I mean."
"I know," she admitted. "It's just that you need to calm down."
*He is calm. More or less.*
*Quite true. You can tell by the fact that he's not floating.*
Oh, shut up you lot, he growled.
"Her parents are almost as obstinate as she is," Harry said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "They refuse to believe that removing Hermione from Hogwarts will cause her greater injury than if she were to stay. I admit I don't know much about her life outside of school, I've never been to her home, but I don't think she has many friends. If any. The people she's attached to in life are here, at Hogwarts, and if she leaves she will be all alone."
Ginny stood and, to Harry's amusement, began to pace. "Have you considered visiting them? We could Apparate to their home tonight - try convince them in person. We could take Hermione with us. She could argue her case to her folks and we could support her."
Before Harry could contemplate this idea, Hermione burst into the office. She had a large book in her grasp, supported mainly by her stronger left arm, and a rushed yet triumphant air about her. She didn't bother greeting either of them, instead she hurried over to the desk. With a clumsy sweep of her right arm she cleared one cluttered corner of the desktop, sending a dozen books and several tall stacks of parchment tumbling to the floor.
"Hey!" protested Harry, rising to his feet.
"Don't worry, this is worth it," Hermione said, thumping the book she was holding onto the cleared space. She turned and grinned at the two of them. "I think I've found it."
"What?" Ginny's strode over to the desk, from where she had halting in her pacing by the fireplace and looked at the book Hermione had brought in. Harry, somewhat more sedately joined the two witches by the desk.
Hermione was beaming in that triumphant way she had after finally unearthing whatever secrets she had been searching for. Nicolas Flamel. Polyjuice Potion. Summoning Charms. All those things she had sought out over the years to help in their adventures.
She always comes through in the end, he thought. Doesn't she?
~Of course she does~ replied Ginny. ~She's Hermione.~
Together, with Hermione standing behind them, Harry and Ginny leaned over and looked at the book. It was old, as most books in the Hogwarts library were, and seemed to have been the survivor of numerous fires, floods, wars and uncountable grubby hands. Its title was emblazoned on its tattered leather cover in letters of peeling copper (long since turned green).
Hogwarts' Grounds
A Magical Energies Study
by Calvin Hobbes
Harry grinned, knowing that this was it, and shared a victorious grin with Ginny. She too seemed to sense that they had finally made the breakthrough that they had been searching for. He gripped her hand in his and squeezed it tightly, paging through the book with his other hand.
It's here, he thought. It's all here. All of it. Everything we need.
~With this we can be done mapping the location by New Years~ agreed Ginny.
Releasing Ginny's hand and flipping the book closed, Harry turned and enveloped Hermione in a rib-crunching hug. She squealed with surprise, as well as delight, when he lifted her off her feet and began spinning her around in his arms.
"You did it, Hermione! You did it!"
***
"Indeed," interrupted a voice from the doorway. "Might I enquire as to what exactly Miss Granger has succeeded in doing?"
Ginny turned away from the desk, slightly surprised that Dumbledore had managed to sneak up on them. He was standing just inside the door, his silver hair and beard glowing in the firelight. He was smiling in that mysterious, yet grandfatherly, manner which suited him so very well. He was holding a letter, written on what looked like Muggle paper, in one hand.
Harry answered his question. "She's found a book detailing the arrangements of the various wards protecting the castle. It's still too early to say for sure, we've only just glanced over the book, but it seems to have everything we need."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded. "I recall granting permission for you and her to search through the Restricted Section of the library. It is good to hear that your search has finally borne fruit."
"Took me long enough," Hermione muttered.
"Perhaps, but that delay may well work in our favour, might it not?" Dumbledore asked, looking to Harry and Ginny.
Ginny exchanged an apprehensive look with Harry and replied, "Unfortunately it doesn't create anything in the way of an advantage. The foci are still growing, so having the details of the castle's wards is only going to help us in that we'll be able to set them up immediately after they're completely formed."
Harry nodded and returned to his seat. "Other than that, the only advantage we have at the moment is that Malfoy doesn't know that we can potentially disperse the Well."
"Potentially?" repeated Dumbledore, not looking reassured by the word.
Ginny rounded the desk and settled on Harry's lap. His arms snaked around her waist and help her to him as he tried to explain. "Albus, would you believe it possible to start an avalanche with a single pebble? One tiny grain of sand, in the right place, at the right time..."
Dumbledore, finding a chair to sit in, nodded. "I would accept the concept as an axiom. The smallest of actions can have far reaching and life altering results. I have seen many examples of such during my life."
Knowing where Harry was going with his metaphor, Ginny asked, "Then would you believe it's possible for a single pebble to stop an avalanche?"
"It would not be easy," the venerable wizard admitted, but nodded his head. His bright blue eyes watched Ginny and Harry closely from over the tops of his spectacles. "You would have to place the pebble in the right place, at the right time. As you would need to do in order to start it."
"Then you see our problem," Harry said. "Draco Malfoy is now like an avalanche. With the power of the Well as his disposal, he is all but unstoppable. Anything that gets in his way will be crushed by sheer force. Stopping him will require performing the exact right action, in the exact right place and at the exact right time."
Ginny bobbed her head in agreement. "Dispersing the Well involves a great deal of chance. We have to lure Draco into the trap, catch him by surprise, or it will fail."
"That is why we have to be so careful during the design of it," Harry continued. "Everything has to be absolutely perfect. If one of the foci is out of position by even a fraction of an inch, well, Malfoy will be the least of our worries."
"What d'you mean?" asked Hermione, who had also found a seat.
"Imagine, if you can, a total, instantaneous magical course reversal," replied Harry.
Hermione paled slightly. "Isn't that what happened in the auditorium? At the start of term when Malfoy teleported out of the school?"
Ginny nodded. "Only a few million times more powerful. Basically everything within a five mile radius will be completely disassociated."
*That's putting it mildly.*
*Shut up.*
"So what brings you down here, Albus?" asked Harry. "Besides checking on our progress?"
Dumbledore held up the sheet of paper in his hand. He waved it about and said, "I come bearing good news and... disturbing news."
Behind her Harry dropped his head onto her shoulder. Ginny felt much the same as he obviously did. There had been very little good news over the past few weeks and more often than not it was accompanied by bad news. Disturbing news was no doubt a new euphemism of Dumbledore's forewarning the coming of what was no doubt exceptionally bad news.
"Can we have the good news first?" asked Harry, voice slightly muffled.
"I was planning to explain in that order," agreed Dumbledore.
Harry lifted his head and squeezed his arms around Ginny's waist. She returned the action by squeezing his arms and leaning back against him. Very much to Ginny's surprise however, Dumbledore did not hand the sheet of Muggle-made paper to either her or Harry. Instead, he turned in his seat and offered it to Hermione.
With a puzzled expression Hermione reached out with her good arm and plucked the letter from Dumbledore's hand. She looked to Harry and Ginny before starting to read, but neither of them could offer anything more than an equally puzzled shrug.
What d'you think it is? Ginny asked, as Hermione unfolded the letter.
~Beats me~ replied Harry. ~Must have something to do with Hermione though.~
Ginny felt a flutter of excitement. You don't think...
Her thought trailed off as Hermione began to read. "Dear Professor Dumbledore," she began. She cleared her throat and looked nervously at the waiting headmaster. Dumbledore gave a nod for her to continue and so she resumed, "We have, after careful deliberation, decided to comply with the recommendations made by yourself and your staff. Consequently we will grant permission for our daughter, Hermione, to remain at Hogwarts--"
Harry's office promptly exploded into a cacophony of noise as the three teenagers present began to cheer and whoop and scream and yell themselves hoarse. Dumbledore remained in his seat, his eyes twinkling merrily, as Harry and Ginny literally jumped over the desk and enveloped Hermione in an overjoyed embrace.
The trio were jumping around and making ecstatic cries for long minutes, not really paying much attention to what they were doing. They were far more concerned with simply expression the utter sense of relief and exultation that had swept over them.
Finally, at Hermione's insistence, they settled down and finished reading the letter. Hermione resumed her place in the chair beside Dumbledore. Harry and Ginny stood behind her and read the letter over her shoulders. Ginny felt that her grin would split her face in two if it were to get any broader, which it was doing as they scrolled down the letter.
"I think you should pay particular attention," mentioned Dumbledore, "to the part that mentions the visit they were paid by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape this Wednesday."
"Snape? Professor Snape talked my parents into letting me stay?" Hermione's disbelief could only be matched by Ginny's. Even Harry seemed dumbfounded and read that line of the letter several times, just to confirm what his eyes were seeing.
"I could kiss him," muttered Ginny, aware that if she did her brothers would no doubt completely disown her. "I don't care if he is a slimy git, I just might kiss him for this."
Dumbledore chuckled a bit and shook his head. "That would probably be a bad idea, Virginia," he told her. Then his expression turned serious as did his voice. "Especially as Severus did no such thing. Nor did Minerva for that matter."
Ginny blinked. Harry blinked.
"What?" they chorused, Hermione echoing them a moment later.
Dumbledore slipped his half-moon spectacles from his crooked nose and began to polish them with a vibrantly orange handkerchief. The colour momentarily caused Ginny's mind to wander to Ron, who was still lying comatose in the Hospital Wing. Doubtless Harry and Hermione's thoughts also strayed to their friend, and in Hermione's case boyfriend, but Dumbledore appeared not to notice.
Returning his glasses to their place on his nose, he explained, "Miss Granger's parents inform me that they were visited by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape in the early evening of this week Wednesday. Three days ago. I wrote to them and they place the time as being between six and nine o'clock that evening, during which their visitors were successful in convincing them that it would be best to allow their daughter to remain here, at Hogwarts."
"So what's the problem?" asked Ginny, a tad impatiently.
"There is a weekly staff meeting every Wednesday at that time, for the heads of the four houses," Dumbledore revealed. His brow furrowed as he stroked his silvery moustache with a finger. "Both Minerva and Severus were in attendance and could not possibly have been present at the Granger residence. They were with me the entire time."
"But, then who..." Hermione trailed off, obviously at a loss.
Dumbledore shook his head, "I'm afraid we do not know. I had Mundungus Fletcher and Arabella Figg stop by the house yesterday, but they could not detect any magic that might reveal the identities of the impostors."
Harry was gripping Ginny's shoulder firmly. "But why? I mean, why would anyone want to keep Hermione at Hogwarts? Besides us I mean?"
"That, I'm afraid, I do not know."
"Well, I for one am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth," announced Hermione, folding the letter and handing it back to Dumbledore. She was wearing the expression Ginny recognised as the one she normally wore when having staunchly made up her mind about something.
Ginny nodded in agreement. "Right. It may be a mystery, but I don't see that we should concern ourselves unduly with it. After all, it couldn't have been Death Eaters or anyone that wants to hurt Hermione."
"How do you come to this conclusion, Virginia?" asked Dumbledore.
Harry answered for her, "If anybody was planning to abduct or attack Hermione, their best bet would be off Hogwarts grounds, Albus, you know that. Despite Malfoy's destruction of the PFT auditorium, this castle is still the safest place in the wizarding world."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "Perfectly sound, yes, but the question is, why?"
"We may never know," replied Hermione.
***
"You rang, Albus?"
Dumbledore looked up from the report he was reading. Remus and Sirius had finished the work he had assigned them in Paris and were now making their way to Dublin. Unfortunately their news was not heartening as they confirmed Dumbledore's fear that Voldemort was in the process of recruiting the vampire nation to his cause. He put this and other worries aside for the m-moment as this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, Gregory and Hilary Proteus, stepped into his office.
"I presume you have heard of Miss Granger's good fortune?" he asked as the couple settled down opposite him.
"Of course we have," grinned Gregory, "you told about it less than an hour ago."
Dumbledore could not help but chuckle at the young man's cheerful demeanour. He pushed the report he had been reading to one side and shifted comfortably in his plush chair. "Am I correct in assuming the two of you had something to do with it?"
Her hazel eyes were sparkling merrily as Hilary denied it, "Of course we didn't. It was Minerva and Snape."
Gregory laughed and draped an arm around his wife's shoulders. He widened his eyes in mock wonder and said, "The only way we could've been involved was, say... Polyjuice Potion?"
"Drinking a piece of Snape. Ugh, can you imagine the taste?" replied Hilary, grimacing at the thought.
"Don't have to."
"It's been three days."
Gregory shuddered theatrically, "All the grease in his hair made the aftertaste cling to me."
Sensing that he would not be receiving any outright confirmation of his suspicions, though their banter had already done so, Dumbledore decided to turn back to the reason he had summoned the two professors. "Very well. Perhaps we could move onto the reason I called you here?"
Picking up his wand Dumbledore summoned a case from one of the many shelves encircling the office. It was a wooden case topped with glass, similar to those used for display of precious artefacts, and about the size of a small Muggle suitcase. It drifted from its place alongside his Pensieve and came to rest on his desk, in front of the seated couple.
"Do you perchance recognise this?" he asked.
Gregory leaned forward and studied the artefact displayed inside the case. For an instant Dumbledore thought he saw a glimmer of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it had formed. Gregory shrugged and said, "I'll admit it does look familiar."
Hilary, who had also looked into the case, rolled her eyes. "Of course it does," she said with a sigh, settling back into her chair. "After all, how many nine thousand year old prophecies predicting the death of the Boy-Who-Lived could there possibly be?"
"Thought it looked familiar," admitted Gregory, reaching out to hold one of Hilary's hands. Dumbledore noticed that she gave him a gentle, reassuring, squeeze.
"Then it is an accurate translation?" he asked, lifting up a scroll of parchment that he had set aside earlier. It was the complete translation Fleur Delacour had made of the stone tablet sitting before them.
"From what I remember, yes," admitted Hilary, although neither she nor her husband made to take the translation from Dumbledore's proffered hand. She turned to Gregory and asked, "What do you think, lover?"
Gregory shifted uncomfortably for a few moments. He looked over the stone tablet again and, to Dumbledore's surprise, appeared to actually read the ancient script. He shrugged and said in a nonchalant voice, "Still very bad poetry."
Dumbledore frowned, not pleased by the indifferent manner in which the two professors were acting. And they were acting he knew, since the prophecy involved them to a great degree. He looked from one to the other and asked, "Is there no way to avoid its fulfilment?"
"It's a Sumerian prophecy," said Gregory, shaking his head. "You have as much chance of avoiding it as Snape has as chance of winning a popularity contest."
"I see the years have not dulled your dislike for Severus," observed Dumbledore, a small grin curling his lips.
Hilary groaned and looked imploringly up to the heavens, "If anything he's gotten worse."
Now Dumbledore had to chuckle, "Which no doubt explains why you so delight in tormenting him at every chance."
"We have to," explained Gregory. He grinned boyishly, "We already have."
"Strangely enough that almost makes sense," admitted Dumbledore. He returned his attention to the translation he was holding and settled it on top of the case containing the original tablet. His brow furrowed slightly in a frown as he asked the question that had been worrying him since Fleur had finished her initial translation. "Are you certain nothing can be done about this?"
With a sigh Gregory rose to his feet, Hilary right beside him and holding his hand. They shared a look for a moment and shook their heads sadly before Gregory answered wearily, "Harry is going to die - and there's nothing you can do to prevent it."
TBC...