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Harry Potter and the Belonging Ring.
Chapter 1: Fair is Foul and Foul is Fair.
Dark and difficult time had been predicted and they had now fallen. Darkness was everywhere and hatred was the foul disposition held by nearly everyone. It wasn’t likely to be happy in a disheveled world, in fact, it was nearly impossible for everyone and every thing no matter what side you belonged to.
Word of Dumbledore’s death reached far and wide. The magic community seemed to sigh with sadness and despair. With his departure the darkness stretched over everything. The dark lord and his followers became more and more prominent in every day life. It was the good forces that had retreated now.
The ministry of magic had thinned greatly in numbers, as more people went back to the dark. Azkaban prison was now deserted and the Dementors had free reign over the night. No one could stop them from using there powers however they chose and many people, both magic and muggle were being subdued by the Dementors kiss. It was no longer safe for anyone.
The order of the Phoenix had taken over as defenders of the good side as the ministry was desperate for any help they could get. What was left of their employees were left to take on the ever growing problems. Their biggest concern were the muggles, the non magical people that were witnessing much more magic than every before. The dark Lord’s powers had spread so much that even the muggles weren’t safe and the Death Eaters showed little concern for the life of the non magical people, in fact, they used the muggle involvement to help further their other plans. It was with these people that the dark followers created the distractions they needed.
Still with all of the destruction and devastation for both the magic and muggle worlds, the Dark Lord was still unsatisfied. To many time Harry Potter had slipped through his hands and still he could not find a way to be rid of Harry for good. There was far to much protection around him now, first with his mother and now the Dumbledore, more secrets of old magic began to spring up. Clearly Dumbledore was far wiser than Voldemort could ever dream of being. Harry was still safe with his aunt and uncle and as long as he returned to Hogwarts, as long as Dumbledore’s body was close by, Harry would be safe and a great burden to the future of the Dark Lord’s plans.
It was not a happy time for man or beast. Everyone, including the muggles, seemed frantic. People traveled in packs and never looked anyone in the eyes anymore. Lord Voldemort himself was always in a frantic rage, never knowing exactly why. He had been growing stronger than he had ever been, stronger than he had every dreamed, but with this power came the paranoia of losing it all again.
One peculiarly cold evening, in the middle of the summer, far outside the city of London, a gathering of dark wizards and witches congregated. Global dark wizards had been coming together to marvel at the power that the Dark Lord had been gaining. They gather deep in the darkness of the forest, awaiting the arrival of their Lord. His powers now stretched far beyond the boarders of the UK, his reign of terror was now moving onto the global scale and yet he remained grounded in his home land. This was his own tribunal, his most trusted advisors from all over his kingdom.
After Dumbledore’s death, and the loss of Azkaban as a safe holding, the ministry of magic lost holds on many of the dark wizards they had imprisoned, Lucius Malfoy was one of them. On this night, for the first time in quite a while Lucius, was reunited with his wife, Narcissa. They were among the group gathered. Narcissa’s sister Bellatrix was also gathered with them. This would be the first time the women faced the Dark Lord’s tribunal and they were not on good terms. Lucius remained a good distanced from his wife. Rumours had started, that she had disgraced the Malfoy name and went against a direct order from Voldemort himself.
The two women huddled together, in fear, as the rest of the wizards and witches stared on disapprovingly.
“You are some piece of work Lucius,” Bellatrix hissed as she watched him pass them proudly, “can’t even protect your family and act as if nothing ever happened.”
“I am not the one defying the Dark Lord’s orders,” he hissed.
“Feed your own son to the wolves,” Bellatrix grew more angry by the moment.
“He would have been a great addition to my flock,” Fenrir Greyback said as he smiled back at Lucius.
“You stay away from my child,” Narcissa cried as she looked horror stricken at Greyback.
“If I find him first,” he laughed hungrily as he licked his lips, “it would make him much stronger you know.”
“Lucius, you can’t let this happen,” Narcissa begged her eyes now filling with tears, “he’s your son, your flesh and blood.”
“There is nothing to do until he is found, woman, and even then why should I help a coward,” Lucius said coldly.
“You are one to talk Lucius,” Bellatrix hissed as she held her sobbing sister, “as I recall, I was the one who landed in Azkaban for staying faithful and I would do it again. But you oh no, change you ways to stay out of that place, renounce what you knew. You deserved what you got by being chucked in there. It was a shame that your son didn’t have you to show him how to do it properly. You deserve whatever darkness befalls you.”
“I’ll welcome it,” Lucius said calmly as he turned away from the women, “men need not worry about the maternal instinct.” he chuckled to the others.
“Say that to my face Malfoy,” Bellatrix yelled as she drew her wand, “I’ll show you how maternal instinct works against rubbish like you,” she hissed, the end of her wand glowing already.
“Now, now Bella,” Malfoy smiled, “what would you know about maternal instinct, you’ve never had a flock of your own,” he laughed, “the dementor’s sucked that out of you along with your looks and most of you strength while you were under their charge. I would guess that your maternal instinct is much like theirs.”
The group of wizards burst into laughed. Bellatrix’s face grew red with anger. Her wand ever glowing, never taking her eyes off Lucius.
“Ah, now my children,” a high cold voice penetrated the darkness, “let us not allow divisions grow between us,” Voldemort said as he took his place in the circle. A high backed stone chair popped out of the earth as he moved in on the quarreling family members, “now what is the meaning of this family feud?” he asked looking around.
“Please my Lord forgive me, my treachery,” Narcissa cried as she through herself at the dark Lord’s feet, “please, spare a mother for her desperation to protect a son.”
“Get away from him you filth,” Malfoy yelled as he watched his wife with displeasure and disdain, “you haven’t got the right to speak to him after what you have done!” he yelled as he pulled the sobbing woman away from Voldemort.
“Now, now, Lucius,” Voldemort said calmly never taking his eyes of Narcissa.
Her eyes however had fallen on Lucius filled with hatred and anger toward him now, “you have no right to speak to me that way you coward,” she hissed as she stood and pulled herself away from him, “turn you back on your own son.”
“I have no son!” Lucius yelled into her face, losing his temper for the first time completely.
“Silence!” Voldemort yelled.
The whole of the tribunal had fallen silent now. Fenrir Greyback sat close by the action licking his lips and loving every moment of the quarrel. Wormtail stood shivering at the dark lord’s side never taking his eyes off the three beings in the center.
“Bellatrix,” Voldemort said looking to the woman who’s wand glowed red, “lower you wand, and rejoin the ranks of the tribunal, you are pardoned and I am pleased with your faithfulness to me all these years. Please step aside.”
Bellatrix looked fearfully at her sister for a moment and then fell back into the darkness of the grand jury gather in the forest.
“Lucius, Narcissa, come and stand before me,” Voldemort hissed as a large snake crept up the side of the stone chair he was sitting in and curled around the top and sides, watching ever more closely, “you’ve returned Malfoy now that you have been freed by my Dementors. I can’t say it pleases me to see you back. How can you make me see that you have learned from you treachery against me?” he said as he glared at Lucius.
Malfoy’s mouth fell open, he had not expected this reaction from the Dark Lord. He fell to his knees before Voldemort, “I have always been faithful, my Lord,” he said, “I have always done as you bid and I have never renounced you.”
“But you have!” Voldemort yelled his wand pointed at Lucius, “you who walked free and never sought me out, you who worked with them and lied about what you had done, changed your ways they believed and now here you are. Beg me,” Voldemort ordered.
Malfoy fell to the ground and kissed the hem of Voldemort’s robes, “forgive my treachery, my Lord, I am faithful to you and you alone.”
“I can see that,” Voldemort hissed disdain in his voice, “renouncing your own son, I hate fathers like that,” he said and gave Lucius a swift kick in the side.
Lucius rolled over in pain as Voldemort stepped over him.
“As for you Narcissa,” Voldemort said as he walked up to her and looked her in the face.
She fell to her knees never taking her eyes off of his.
“You went against my order to your son. It was to be Draco that killed Dumbledore. Why did you stand in my way?” he asked calmly.
“It was to much for a young boy,” she said as she stood again, “I believe he is faithful to you, my Lord, but I don’t think he is yet ready for the task at hand. You cannot blame him for his fathers coward but simply enough he’s only a boy,” she said, tears in her eyes once more, “he’ll prove himself to you in time.”
“That boy Potter can face me, he’s of the same age,” Voldemort said matter of factly.
“But not even Potter would stand against Dumbledore,” Narcissa stated before she even know what had come out of her mouth.
Voldemort fell silent for a moment. He walked back to his chair as Narcissa stood alone in the center of the circle, “many of us are not brave enough to stand up to Dumbledore,” he said finally his voice softer, “have we found the boy yet?” he asked.
“No, my Lord,” Narcissa said, her voice shaking as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Lucius get up,” Voldemort yelled as he watched Malfoy stir on the ground, “face your wife as a man should.”
Lucius slowly got to his feet. He looked at his wife filled with disgust and murder in his eyes.
“Narcissa,” Voldemort said softly as he watched the two of them before him.
“Yes, my Lord,” she said as she turned to face him again and bowed.
“What would you do for me to forgive you and your son?” he asked.
“Anything,” she said desperately.
“Would you kill for me?” he asked.
“Anyone, anytime, anywhere,” she said more forcefully.
“Would you give your life to save your son’s?” Voldemort asked.
“In a heart beat,” Narcissa said proudly.
“So, you would kill anyone and die yourself if I simply said yes I forgive you for showing the love of a mother?” Voldemort asked.
A silence grew around the circle.
“Yes,” she answered.
Voldemort raised one of his eyebrows, “you would kill even your husband?” he asked.
“Avada Kedavra,”
A flash of green light erupted in the circle, and before Lucius knew what hit him he lay dead on the ground before Lord Voldemort. Narcissa held tight to her wand as she looked even more strongly at the Dark Lord.
“Excellent,” Voldemort whispered as he watched the snake unfurl from around him and move slowly across the grass toward Lucius’ body, “I have other plans for you Narcissa, but they can be discussed in private,” he whispered as he stood and pushed her wand down from its ready position, “I do not hold anything against you or your son,” he said now standing beside her, “let it be known,” he bellowed to the group gathered around them, “this is what I see as faithfulness to me. And should you not obey me let Lucius Malfoy be your example. You are to find the boy Malfoy and bring him back to his mother, unharmed!” he said as he looked strongly at Fenrir Greyback, “you may all leave me now. I will summon you when I need you,” he added and turned back to his chair.
One by one people began to disapparate away from the circle. Narcissa was about to leave when she turned back to the Dark Lord once more.
“You I want to stay a moment longer,” he said
And she did as she was told.

Chapter 3: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble.
The nights had never seemed so harsh and cold, in the city of London. It was the summer time and yet it always felt like autumn. The winds were cold, and the smell of rain or snow was always on the air. The leaves on the trees, were they not brown or orange, were gone and bare branches were visible like dead, outreached fingers. The streets seemed always damp, even when rain had not fallen. The grass on the boulevards and lawns was brown and dying. Darkness seemed thicker, impenetrable, to all the street lamps and houses. The lamp light fell in cones on the streets but at its edges the darkness was thick enough to cut. The stars didn’t even break the veil of the sky to show their shining eyes. The moon was always covered by a grey, foggy cloak. The earth seemed to take on a life of its own, a dying, joyless life.
Seldom were any people seen in the streets, even, in the big city. The streets were bare and empty, no trolleys or busses or cars of any kind could break through the darkness. Shop windows had taken on curtains, it seemed, and even the light from inside seemed sick and pail. Changes had happened, there was to be no doubt about it. It simply felt unsafe to be out in the open when darkness had fallen. London was under a high alert, though no one could tell from what. Not since the days of the infamous Jack the Ripper did people have so much paranoia about venturing out of their homes. The governments swore it was safe and that life should continue, but when ask if anyone had enjoyed an evening meal in any of the restaurants or taverns the answer was always ‘no comment’. It was clear that the environment had taken to ruling the lives of the simple and complex. It was not a matter of choice for people to stay in but a subconscious rule that they must. This was probably the best thing for everyone, Muggles and Magic alike.
Fog seemed to take to the streets every night as the sun would set. Slow moving and sinister as a guard on watch, ready to arrest anyone who would be caught by its prowling. It would creep along the streets and chase all life away to their shelters. A feeling of self loathing, hatred and joylessness would take over anyone who seemed to be caught within it. By the last chime of the church bells, at dusk, the streets would be deserted. Night walkers and street urchins had nearly completely ceased to exist. The busses and cars no longer ran their roots. Most, if not all of the pubs and bars had started to close their doors early. Even Diagon Ally had taken a new time table and a curfew for witches and wizards, at large, was put into effect. Only the dark wizards were brave enough to take to the street, for it was only a dark force that could change the turning of the tides.
“Alisianelle, come on, we’re going to be late!” A tall girl with flaming red hair called up to a window from the deserted street, “Brin will be waiting for us,” she called a little louder as a charm around her neck caught the lamp light and sparkled. Fog pooled around her making it hard to tell that her sneakers were white and her pants were blue but the tip of her wand glowed silver out of the edge of her sleeve. She carried a book bag over her shoulder, that seemed to weigh her down, and paced nervously beneath the window.
“Raelyn, you’re going to get us caught!” A shorter girl giggled from the window above, “if you don’t calm down and hold your horses I will never come down!” She laughed, her curly dirty blond hair hanging out the window, “and then were will you be?”
“Don’t joke. If I stay out here much longer you know how I will get,” the red haired girl sighed, “I’m just lucky an adult Dementor hasn’t shown up, yet.”
“You best stop talking then, or you’ll lure one in,” Alisianelle whispered, sounding a little more concerned, “you best come inside, I can’t find it and if we don’t bring it Brindalette is going to shoot us. Or worse use an unforgivable.”
“Alright, I’ll help you look,” Rae smiled and quickly pulled her wand from the end of her sleeve. She walked close to the door beneath the window and pointed the want at the doorknob, “Alohomora,” she whimpered. With a click and a flash of light the door unlocked and opened. Quickly she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. A small bit of the fog clung strangely around her feet, “ah get off!” she said as she kicked and prodded at it with the tip of her wand, which now glowed silver again.
“Shh,” Ally smiled as she met her friend on the stairs, “dad’s asleep, we don’t want to wake him. Come on, we have to find the book.”
“How can you loose the spell book, Ally? Really it’s a huge book.” Raelyn said as she hurried after her best friend.
“Well I had to hide something like that from muggle eyes, what else was I supposed to do?” Alisianelle said as she gave her friend a questioning look, “leave it on my bed for my dad to see?”
“He knows you’re a witch,” Raelyn retorted as she rolled her eyes.
“It doesn’t help that the book is bigger than any of our school books, more warn and black. Stinks like god only knows what and has a warning on it that says, ‘He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear his hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear: and you all know security is mortals’ cheifest enemy (3:5 30-33),” Alisianelle said as she stopped in the stairs to look at her friend, “so I wasn’t about to hand it to my muggle father and say here dad check out my possibly evil old book. I had to hide it!”
“And you hid it to well,” Raelyn said as she pushed her friend forward, “because not even you can now find it!”
They arrived at the door to Alisianelle’s room and slowly scurried inside. The room lay in disorder, books and clothing strewn all over, “I can see how you lost it,” Rae laughed as she stepped over a pile of books at the doorway, “maybe if you cleaned once in a while.”
“Oh do you really want to give this away, my dad would know something was up if I cleaned anything, even my own dishes!” Ally giggled, winked and pushed over another pile of cloths to look underneath, “I thought I put it under the bed with everything else that’s important, but it’s not there.”
“Must you do everything the muggle way,” Rae laughed as she watched Ally pull at a long black scrap of fabric and stuff it into a book bag, much like her own, “accio mothers book,” she said and watched as a pile of clothing, near the end of Ally’s bed, begin to hover in mid air, “you did put it under your bed, with a pile of very important clothes,” she smiled and pointed at the hovering pile, “probably your best hiding spot ever,” she winked at Ally and pulled the book from beneath the pile. The clothing fell to the floor with a thud and the girls became very still and quiet.
There was a sudden movement in the hall. A door opened and closed. Footsteps were heard coming closer and closer.
“Quick hide,” Ally said as she jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her nose.
Raelyn slid under the bed and hit her head on another pile of books but fought her cry of pain.
“Ally, are you alright?” came a voice at the door as it opened a crack.
“Yeah dad, I’m fine just kicked some cloths off my bed no big deal,” She said trying to sound sleepy.
“Alright, goodnight,” he said and walked away.
When the footsteps were well out of the hall, and the door could be heard shutting at the end, the girls finally came forth from their hiding.
“You have too much stuff under your bed!” Rae whined and rubbed her head, “I don’t know what books I hit my head on but I tell you they really hurt.”
“Shakespeare, never said it was light reading!” Ally giggled and winked at her friend.
“Come on,” Rae said laughing and shaking her head, “we better get going before we really get caught. Do you have everything else you need?”
“Yeah, now I do,” Ally said grabbing a wand out of a pencil holder on her desk.
“Good, lets get out of here,” Rae smiled and with that they fled back down the stairs.
Once out in the street, fog swirling higher and higher up the houses, the two girls broke into a full run. The fog parted as they ran though it but came falling back around them. Trying, it seemed, to catch them in its grasp. Down the street they ran and around the corner; to get as far away from as many lit windows as possible. Finally, when far enough away from the small rural neighbourhood, they stopped, charms sparkling in the moon light, wand glowing bright silver, breathing deep and excited, they pulled from their book bags their wizard cloaks. Pulling the black hoods up around their faces and the capes around their arms they smiled at one another. This was a much more comfortable setting for them even with all the unrest in the world. The half circle charms that they wore around their necks began to glow a faint gold, lighting their faces and pushing the ever rising fog back. Once again, after regaining their breath, they set off. Trees now lined the street and houses were spaced further apart. The darkness was thick and heavy. Trees reached to them like dead tangles of arms. Things looked dark and sinister and yet the girls were right at home. Smiling and giggling to each other as they raced on through the night, their destination clear to only them
Finally they reached a covered bridge that headed off into a dark forest, “ready?” Rae asked as she held out her hand.
“Yup,” Ally said taking Rae’s hand.
With a small twirl they both disappeared.
Their destination was a warn, condemned place. A spot no longer visited by man or beast. The perfect and obvious place for a gathering of ancient witches. The place was visibly old, run down, dirty and infested with bugs and animal. This was its outer appearance. It was clearly a building that had been boarded up on many different occasions. The remainders of a notice board boasted a warning about entering with the looming threat of plague. It was an ancient building. A building once used, in its day, for the performances of plays, but not just any plays. In its glory days, it was a house for the works of the great William Shakespeare. A theatre in the round, with no roof but many candle. A celebrated place in its time. For the rich, luxurious balcony seats. To the poorer and humble a floor fit for viewing. And for the actor a risen stage, framed by great wooden columns and boasting a beautiful centre stage garden balcony, lined with real floral garlands to replace that of the stage sets of yesteryear. Now it was a building to which the doors were boarded up and had long since seen the entrance of an actor or spectator. Trees grew up through the middle of the round theatre, their branches hanging over and stretching out to the sky. The bridge that cross the river to the city was nearly nonexistent, no one dare cross it for fears of falling in the still very live river. This was a forgotten place, a place that held only the glory of the company it was still able to keep, that of the birds and other magical forest dwellers.
Rae and Ally apparated just on the far side of the bridge, it was as far as magic could take them. It was a sacred place, beyond the bridge. An unpassable barrier stopped them from crossing to the other side. The river waters ragged on beneath the bridge. In the dim golden light of their charm necklaces a strange writing appeared, glowing golden, on the invisible magic barrier.
“Lumos,” they both said together and the tips of their wands burst into bright flames, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air (1:1-11-12 Macbeth).” The words came forth from their mouths like a whisper. The air they breathed out was like the fog of the night, it curled and swirled in the wind, but it was caught by the light of their illuminated wands and spread quickly over the bridge. By the light of the moon and the magic of their wands the bridge was made passable and lead them to their sacred place; across the river, in the round.
Once across the bridge they ran quickly to the doors of the old theatre. At the main, grand entrance, the boards had been loosens and were easy enough to move with a little magical force. Once inside, the stage looked like a mass of wood that floated in the midst of a million night blooming flowers. Colours beyond imagination opened to the moon and sky. The fog of the night to did not make its way through or over the walls. Through the opening in the top of the building, amidst the green leaves of the happy trees the moon and the stars were no longer veiled in joylessness. Roses crept up and around the walls and pillars. Ivies and other magical plants draped the stage like garlands and curtains, more magnificent than any muslin or silk. Silently in the middle of the sage, set for the great witches scene in Macbeth, sat a large, black, iron caldron.
“Who goes,” a voice boomed in the theatre. The voice of the dead or the curse but an unfriendly voice non the less.
“We, three Weird Sisters,” They said and were joined by another female voice.
The darkness was broken by the lighting of millions of candles set around the trees and flowers, balconies and railings. Everything blazed with a bright golden light as the flowers and the plants rustled in the wind. Fire flies and woodland fairies danced in the light of the candles. The colours of the flowers seemed greater in this beautiful witches garden. It was a safe place, a happy place, away from the cruel things that happened in the world.
“Where hast thou been sisters?” the third female asked.
“Where do you think?” Raelyn laughed, “searching Alisianelle’s room for mothers book.”
“Have you been waiting long, Brindalette?” Alisianelle asked as she pulled back her hood.
“Not really,” Brin smiled as she too removed her hood and stepped out from a hidden corner of the entrance way, “Father has been gone for days with the Death Eaters.”
“He’s still at it, is he?” Rae asked as they slowly walked together toward the stage.
The plants and flowers parted each other in the middle of the open theatre as the girls walked on toward the stage. With the lighting of the candles came the fire they needed beneath the cauldron. It burnt hot and bright but without burning any other part of the ancient stage.
“Yes,” Brin said with a sigh, “I have tried to see his ways about it but, I truly don’t understand the greatness that he is blinded by.”
“He’ll see when the end comes,” Raelyn said as she reached the steps to the stage.
“Or it is us who are wrong,” Brin sighed.
“Brin, how could you say something like that,” Ally said as her eyes widened, “could the great witch be wrong?”
“I don’t think that is possible, not if our mothers and their mothers before them have believed so fully in the great Witch,” Raelyn said as she put her arms around her friends shoulders and lead them up onto the stage, “we already know that this has all been for told. We are just here to see that the future is carried out,” she smiled as they, all three, held hands circling the great black cauldron
They gathered together around the cauldron, dropping their book bags and storing away their wands. The magic they worked was far more advanced and complicated then one they would ever learn at school. It was a genetic magic passed on only to a chosen few, who would go on to greatness. Raelyn pulled their mothers book from her bag and held it up above the cauldron. It was taken by the steam and multi coloured smoke that came from within and was held in mid air.
“We three weird sister call once again for guidance,” Brin said almost hissing to the book as it floated.
The books cover began to glow, the letters R.A.B erupted in gold on its cover. Flying open with a flash of life the writing in gold spread down the page.
“Good evening my daughters of magic, my beautiful girls,” a sweet voice poured forth from the book, “what seek thee three?”
“The next puzzle piece,” Alisianelle spoke clearly as she waved her hands, as the others did, through the multicolour smokes.
“Who is your master?” the book demanded.
“Hecate,” they all said together, “the great witch.”
“Is there no greater?” the book asked.
“No greater than you mistress,” they replied.
“None so great in good or evil?” it demanded.
“Not with darkness or with light,” they answered.
“Very well,” the book swirled in the smoke and the light. It changed its form. A beautiful woman, robed in black appeared above the cauldron in a bust of flames around her feet. Her hair twisted and tangled with the smoke taking on its colours as she looked on at the three girls, “more and more you resemble your mothers and their mothers before them. Come we have much to do tonight.”
With another flash of light the girls stood around the cauldron dressed much more like witches then before. Each wearing a gown that flowed to the floor. One dress in red, one in blue and one in yellow. The most primary colours known to man and wizard. The place from which all colour begins. Light past between them and casting new colours around them. Between Raelyn, dressed in yellow and Alisianelle, dressed in blue, the light cast between them was green. Between Alisianelle and Brindalette the strangest shade of purple and between Rae and Brin a fire like orange. Together the three could create all the colours know to the world. The essence that gives life to its creatures, for nothing in the world is simply black or white and even these are formed by the mixing of colours. Their black cloaks hung loosely around their shoulders as they walked slowly in a circle around the bubbling cauldron. In the coloured lights the capes cast shadows of creatures, that stalked and crept along land and sea. It was within he light and the darkness. The colours and the shades that all life was formed. Creation continued to occur by the girls and through the girls as they moved slowly and magically around their beautiful mistress.
“Bring forth your request of my great powers,” Hecate stated as the girls walked in circles around the bubbling potion.
“We seek the third last item,” Raelyn stated as a locket flew from her book bag and hovered near Hecate.
“We bring you two,” Alisianelle said as a goblet flew from her book bag.
“We seek a third,” Brindalette added.
Hecate remained quiet for a long moment as she looked at the items that floated around her. Two more appeared as images in the coloured smoke and mingled with the two that were placed before her. She finally spoke as she grasped the goblet and the locket in each of her hands, “four of the seven are now released to the heavens where they belong. One by the hand of a great, wise wizard who gave his life to save all lives,” she said and the images of Dumbledore’s blackened hand appeared in the fire before them, “One by the sacrifice of your mothers, who knew what was to do to fill what is to come,” the image of three women, older but nearly identical to those who stood around the cauldron. And the terrible images of their final days, “One by your bravery and determination, the willingness to follow in the footsteps of all of my beautiful children,” the images of their visit to the sea side cave and the locket of Hecate that was left in the basin, “Finally one by the chosen one, who will once again be present and will fulfil the greatest of the great prophecies,” a sad and still image of Harry Potter flashed bright in the flames, his scare glowing red and then fading, “You now search a dark creature who’s heart is close to his,” Hecate said in a soft floating voice. The image of a great serpent appeared in the rising steam and smoke. It entangled itself around Hecate. Her voice changed as she whispered, in hisses, to the snake.
“A snake,” Brindalette gasped as her face grew white with fear.
“It’s ok Brin,” Ally said trying to console her friend.
“It is the fifth to become a cage for the soul. Bring me its head!” Hecate hissed as she severed the smoke snake with her arm.
The three girls gasped at the sight. Tears filled Brindalette’s eyes, “I can’t stand snakes, let alone decapitate one,”she sobbed.
“You must be strong my children. Find it but be warned, something wicked this way comes (4:1 46).”
The book slammed shut and the fire subsided. Around the now still cauldron stood Rae, Ally and Brin. They remained dress as they had been when they had first come. Their clothing had returned to its normal state and in the bottom of the now still cauldron rested the two items that they had possessed.
“I’m getting really tired of the lack of information we get on these night,” Ally sighed as she picked up the book and her bag.
“At least we know what we need now,” Brin stated as she rolled up her sleeve to reach into the cauldron to retrieve the sterile items.
“But no directions, no idea where to start,” Ally said as she walked the length of the stage looking out on the audience of flowers.
“But we always know where to start, where we always start, Hogwarts,” Rae smiled as she pulled her Ravenclaw scarf from her book back.
“And I suppose we know who to research, you founding head of house Alisianelle,” Brindalette smiled as she pulled a rose blossom from a creeping vine and tucked it into her hair.
“That may all be true, but what if Hogwarts is closed?” Ally asked looking sad at the thought of the school and the events of the previous months.
“Well maybe that should be our task the next time we three weird sisters meet,” Rae said with a sly smirk, “if anyone can make it stay open, if indeed it must stay open, then it is Hecate.”
They all smiled at each other, as they descended the stage. Around them the candles dimmed, till only the light of the moon remained the guiding light for this new drama.
“Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble (4:1 10-11),” the three said together and all the lights went out around the great forest theatre and they fled from its walls once again hand in hand.

Chapter 5: Within the Garden Wall.
Harry and Dudley walked out of the house and into the garden of the Dursley’s small house. It was a, normally, lovely little garden with flowers and shrubs and a beautiful rod iron table and chairs but it had lost most of its beauty with the terrible things that had been happening to the summer weather. Gathered at the table, Harry could see his favourite people in all the world and with them were a stack of brightly wrapped gifts. He couldn’t help but smile and they all smiled back.
“My don’t you look like the miss matched pair!” Ginny said as she looked at Harry and his cousin, two people who would have never admitted to being related a year ago and people would have believe them. Harry had gotten tall and lanky, his hair was very dark and quite a mess most of the time. He wore glasses and bright, sparkling green eyes looked out from behind them. Dudley, on the other hand, was shorter than Harry now, with blond hair and a rather round face. It wasn’t a secret that Dudley was a large boy but his newest hobby of wrestling had brought him into a much better physique.
“Yeah mate, never seen you two together like this before. You’re normally enemies, or you’re to frightened to even look at us,” Ron said so Dudley looked nervously around the group.
“Harry’s got enough enemies I reckon. Everyone’s got to change some time,” Dudley said still looking quite out of place.
“Go on Dud, they aren’t going to do any magic to you,” Harry smiled and sat down with an empty seat next to him for his cousin.
“Not on him,” Hermione said with a slight smile, “but it is safe to do a little magic here and there.”
“What do you mean?” Dudley asked nervously.
“Some of Harry’s gifts are magiced, mate,” Ron said patting Dudley’s shoulder.
“Wont the neighbours see?” Dudley asked now in a hushed voice.
“Not to worry,” Hermione said proudly as she twirled her wand in her fingers, “I’ve placed a muggle repelling charm on the garden. The neighbours wont see it.”
Dudley looked around to see if anything looked different and didn’t notice anything.
“You are inside the charm, Dudley, nothing will look any different to you,” Luna said from the other side of Dudley
Dudley sighed and then looked at the pile of gifts on the table and lowered his eyes once more.
“What’s the matter?” Neville asked as he looked across the table.
“I’ve not got anything for Harry,” he said his round face turning pink.
“Don’t worry about it Dud,” Harry Smiled, “the party is at your house, you’re hosting it. Just enjoy it all.”
Dudley smiled as the group pulled their chairs into the table and Aunt Petunia brought out a pitcher of lemonade with a plate of sandwiches. She placed it on the table and walked back toward the house happily.
“Quite and odd colour for pumpkin juice,” Neville said eyeing the foggy liquid.
Dudley laughed with Hermione and Harry as Ron, Neville and Luna looked oddly at them. Ginny rolled her eyes.
“It’s Lemonade, not pumpkin juice,” Dudley said as he stood and poured it into the glasses, “try it the muggle way,” he smiled and Harry laughed at him once more.
The mood was light and the food was delicious, Aunt Petunia, in her new found kindness, had out done herself with wonderful salads and breads for the birthday tea. Dudley marveled at the gifts that Harry had received. Hermione had brought him a new edition of Hogwarts a History which she insisted would be beneficial for him to read. Neville had filled a box with jokes from Ron’s brothers shop. Ron had picked up new flying goggles and Ginny got new dragon hied gloves for Harry in hopes to see him playing Quiddich again. Dudley was even lucky enough to try some of the wizarding sweets that Luna had give to Harry, complete with chocolate frogs and every flavour beans.
As the afternoon wore on and the sun began to set, Dudley sat with his face screwed up as he looked down at the brand new wizard chess set that Fred and George Weasley had sent for Harry.
“Come on, Dud, move the knight,” Ron whispered into Dudley’s ear.
“We heard that,” Harry laughed, “thanks for the extendable ears Neville. No wonder he’s winning,” he said as he watched another on of Hermione’s pawns go flying, “Ron stop coaching him.”
“He seems pretty good on his own,” Ron said as he watched Dudley move again, “I’m up to play him next.”
“Dud, you would never play chess before,” Harry said in shock as his cousin checkmated Hermione’s king, “how’d you get so good?”
“Mum,” Dudley answered as he watched the game pieces rearrange themselves for another game, “she used to make me play with her all the time. We stopped when I kept winning. It got boring then, but this is way more fun and so much more violent.”
“Well Ron’s brilliant when it comes to chess,” Harry said as he patted Ron on the back.
“I’m up for he challenge.” Ron smiled as he moved his first pawn.
“I’m not going to go easy on you Weasley,”Dudley said with a very competitive smiled.
The garden fell silent as the rest of the witches and wizard watch a battle on the game board, between wizard and muggle. They gasped and hissed as moves were made. Dudley was putting up one hell of a fight, until all that was left on the game board were the two kings, a knight and a queen.
“Call it a draw?” Ron asked staring at his knight.
“I guess we’ll have to,” Dudley sighed, “we are stuck making the same moves over and over.”
“A draw it is then,” Ron said as he pushed himself away from the table, “that was a good game,” he said
“Same to you,” Dudley smiled and shook Ron’s hand.
“Awe look,” Ginny teased, “the ministry of magic should take some lessons from you two. Magic, Muggle ties have just been made by a friendly game of chess.”
“There is hope for wizard, muggle relations yet!” Hermione giggled.
Everyone laughed, including Dudley.
Soon the chess set was packed away and the group sat around the beautiful cake that Petunia had brought out to them. She lit the candles with matches, which Luna and Neville stared at, and then led the group in a terribly out of tune rendition of the birthday song. Harry blew out the candles and his friends applauded.
The cake was plated and Petunia walked back inside the house to join uncle Vernon who had just returned home. The sun had completely set now as they gathered with the chocolate cake. To Harry’s dismay it was time for his carefree day to end and the conversation took a turn for a more serious topic.
“I can’t believe that you would every be thick enough to think that you could face the world without the help of Hogwarts,” Hermione said in disbelief.
“I told you already, I can’t have school as a distraction anymore. I have to spend my time on what is really important,” Harry said with a sigh.
“Hermione is right, Mate,” Ron said shaking his head, “you’ll get more help at Hogwarts than you’ll get out on your own.”
“And put the students in danger?” Harry asked, “no way. I’m not going back.”
“But it’s staying open,” Dudley gasped, “what do you mean you’re not going back?”
“It’s a long, complicated story, Dud,”Harry sighed.
“Well fill me in,” Dudley said impatiently, “and it better be good if you are going to ignore your best friends concern. If its not and your really are as thick as Hermione thinks you are I just might have to knock some sense into you!” he said punching one hand into the other.
So Harry proceeded to tell Dudley about everything that had happened in the past six years of his life. Not skipping any terrible details and filling in exactly how he felt along the way. Harry even got choked up when he started to tell about all the people who had already died because of Voldemort.
When he had finished, Dudley stared at him, a very blank look covered his face.
“Well what do you think Dudley,” Hermione asked, “now that you know the whole terrible story, what would you do?”
“You are all going back then?” he asked the group.
Everyone but Harry nodded.
“And you are all willing to do everything in your power to help Harry, right?” he asked them, “no matter what?”
Everyone nodded again.
“Then why are you being so thick, Harry?” Dudley asked turning now to his cousin, “I mean what are you thinking you can accomplish on your own when all this time you have always had the help? Dumble...dude... had help, why can’t you accept it for yourself?”
“Yeah Harry,” Ginny piped in, “what do you think Dumbledore would want you to do.”
“I’ll tell you what he’d want,” Neville said softly, “he’s want you in that school where he can help you.”
“How can he help me?” Harry said he face burning red, “he’s dead.”
“You think a little thing like death would stop Dumbledore?” Ron asked matter of factly.
“Yeah like in those moving picture thingy’s,” Dudley said as he jumped up, “your parents are dead but they still wave and smile and interact with you.”
“But they can’t talk to me,” Harry said.
“But paintings talk,” Hermione said as she slammed her hand down on the table, “that’s it, Dudley, you’re a genius,” she shouted and Dudley grinned.
“What are you jabbering on about,” Ron asked rolling his eyes.
“Oh think about it Ron,” Ginny said, “the fat lady, or any of the other portraits in the school for that matter. They all walk and talk and move around.”
“Is there are portrait of Dumbledore in the school,” Harry finally asked.
“I am sure their will be,” Hermione said, “one is done after every headmaster or mistress leaves the school. It will be in Professor McGonagall’s office.”
“And how would I get up there to talk to him?” Harry asked impatiently.
“Um you just ask,” Luna said.
“Well first you kinda have to go to school,” Hermione said, “and as you know anyone in the Order will help you and that includes McGonagall, I am sure that’s what Dumbledore would have wanted.”
Harry fell silent as his friend continued to stare at him. So many questions were running through his head and they all came down to one thing, he needed answers and the only place to find them would be at Hogwarts. And if, by any chance at all, Dumbledore did have a portrait Harry knew he could get so many answers if he could just find it.
Suddenly, before Harry could answer his friends every present stairs, a great barn owl landed in the middle of the table with a letter attached to its foot.
“Well aren’t you going to read it?” Dudley asked as he reached over to the owl and untied the letter.
“The muggle seems to get wizard post better than you do,” Ron joked as he watched Dudley feed a scrap of his cake to the owl and it flew off.
Dudley passed the letter to Harry and he turned it over in his hands. It was definitely addressed to him in a familiar script. He opened the envelope and pulled out three pieces of parchment.
“What is it?” Hermione asked from across the table.
“My Hogwarts letter,” Harry said matter of factly.
“What does the third sheet say?” Ron asked, “mine only had two pieces of parchment.”
“Yeah,” Ginny, Luna, Hermione and Neville said together.
Harry’s eyes grew wide as he looked down at the paper. He placed it in the centre of the table for his friends to read.
Dear Harry Potter
Professor Dumbledore would like me to pass the message on for him. He says he would like to see you return to Hogwarts it is the safest place for you and he has new information involving the things that had happened at the end of last term. We expect to see you arriving with the rest of the students on September 1st.
Sincerely Professor Minerva McGonagall.
“Well?” Hermione said as she cross her arms, “what are you going to do?”
“I have no choice. I have to go back,” Harry said.
“Glad that man can still bring you to your sense, mate, would have been a very dull year without you,” Ron said and the rest of them nodded.
“You’ll keep me posted wont you?” Dudley asked.
“Yeah,” Harry smiled, “you keep an eye out and tell us if any muggle get involved.”
“You’re the inside man on the outside of Hogwarts,” Ron said with a smile.
“And Ron is taking my place as the Loony one,” Luna said and the mood returned to the light enjoyable mood a birthday party should have.

Chapter 7: Godric’s Hollow.
Hermione fixed Harry’s school trunk into the trunk of her car, with her own, and hurried to take her place at the drivers side of the car. Harry hesitated for a minute, looking up and down Privet Drive. He could see Petunia, Vernon and Dudley in the window of the house. Sadness flooded through him as he watched Petunia dab at her eyes with a frilly handkerchief. Never had he left this place feeling more emotion than this. It was like he really was leaving something good behind this time. It was only within the past months that he had grown to love his family and now he was leaving them for good.
“Harry come on,” Hermione called snapping him away from his aunt’s face, “the longer you stay the harder it will get,” she said and he climbed into the car.
Harry was quiet for a long time as Hermione drove. She seemed as comfortable and as collected behind the wheel of a muggle car as she did in her charms class. Harry, however, never felt comfortable anywhere, anymore. He was a lost soul always wandering, always looking for something he had to find but never getting any closer. He had found nurturing and family with the Dursley’s finally and now he was leaving it. He had once seen happiness beyond compare at Hogwarts and now he dreaded being there. He knew what he had to do but was more confused than ever. It seemed like even though his destiny was already predetermined he had no path in life, nowhere to belong.
Finally, after about an hour of listening to the radio, Hermione tapped the dash of the car with her wand. There was complete silence for a moment an then sound again. The radio station changed and Harry began to listen to, not the muggle news, but a wizarding station instead.
“... we’ll be back in a moment,” said the new caster.
“These messages are brought to you by, Prewy’s Potions and Peps,” said another voice, “Feeling a bit under the weather? Can’t get even the grass to grow? Then come in for Madame Prewy’s Pick Me Up Potion. Guaranteed to relieve minor colds and coughs as well as pick up a pouty patch of petunias in any miserable summer garden.”
The commercial ended and the woman’s voice returned to the station.
“Welcome to Wizarding World News, I’m Gerda Grenadine and here is a recap of our top stories. Werewolf packs on the rise in Great Britain. Authorities say that the Dark Lord is giving the wolves reign over the forests. Please take caution at all time and never leave children alone in the garden. They have become active even without the full moon.”
“Ministry of Magic officials told us today that they are facing a serious shortage of Aurors, this news couldn’t have come at a worse time. ‘We just haven’t seen the enrollment into the program that we had wished for,’ a spokes wizard for magical law enforcement told us, ‘even if we did have the young wizards coming into the program it still takes three years of training to get them up to ministry standards.’”
“In other news, the Chudley Cannons have come out of their eight game wining streak with an upsetting loss to the Wasps yesterday evening. The Cannons lost by ten points with a final score of two hundred and seventy to two hundred and eighty. The snitch was caught seven hours and forty two minutes into the match...”
“Ron will be livid,” Hermione sighed not taking her eyes off the road, but it was exactly what Harry needed to bring him back to earth.
“Well do you blame him?” Harry asked, “the Cannons haven’t had a winning streak in... well... know one knows how long.”
“True,” Hermione smiled, “I’ve begun cheering for the Cannons myself.
“Because they were winning?” Harry asked with a laugh.
“No, cause there’s no getting along with Ron if you don’t,” She sighed, “so Harry what do you hope to gain from this little road trip?” she asked.
“Not sure,” He answered truthfully. He sighed as he watched the lazy country side roll by the car, “I’m hoping something will jump out at me.”
“Like a pack of werewolves?” Hermione asked stealing a quick look at Harry and then back at the road.
“Have they been spotted near Godric’s Hollow?” he asked.
“Lupin says they have been,” she said mater of factly, “but he’s not really worried. Your stunning charm is pretty good.”
“Pretty good,” Harry asked raising his eyebrow, “just pretty good?”
“Now don’t get carried away Harry,” Hermione said with a hint of annoyance in her voice, “we can’t get to confident.”
“Well, I hope we don’t run into anything that will cause us trouble. I am just looking for answers,” Harry sighed.
The car fell silent once more, until they came to a stop outside the Burrow. Arthur and Molly Weasley met them in the front.
“Ron will be down in a minutes, dears,” Mrs. Weasley smiled as Hermione opened the trunk and pulled their school trunks out.
“Wonderful,” she said, “we shouldn’t be any later than midnight tonight.”
Harry watched as Mrs. Weasley’s face showed signs of concern.
“We’ll keep and eye on everything,” Arthur smiled, “Molly has had the both of you added to the family clock. We’ll know if anything is wrong.”
Mrs. Weasley blushed.
Harry smiled at her, it was wonderful to be with the Weasley’s, even if he was mothered to annoyance by Molly. She was the only mother he had know since his own passed away.
“You’ll find them in the corner of the church yard, beneath a lovely flowering willow,” Molly said, “it was the nicest place that we could find for them,” she said and her voice cracked, “you will be looking for your parents wont you?”
“Yes,” Harry said and forced a smile to cheer her up.
He had felt a sudden jump of sadness in his heart. He had not yet seen his parents graves. This would be the first time he had ever set foot in his parents village. It was the first step on his journey to adult hood and understanding where his path would lead. He felt he needed to start at the beginning once again as Dumbledore had often told him, it was a good place to start. He was scared but very relieved to have his best friends with him.
Ron came running out of the house chased by a flying, bright orange, ball. Fred, George and Ginny followed him closely laughing historically.
“Harry can you please tell Ron its not the end of the world that the Cannons lost,” Ginny sighed but broke into laughter again as the orange ball zoomed around Ron’s head.
Ron glared at her.
“Let’s just go,” Hermione said as she pulled Ron toward the car. The bright orange ball plummeted to the ground with a loud bang.
“I’ll try to get his mind off it,” Harry whispered to Ginny.
“You’ll be back wont you?” Fred asked.
“Yeah, we need opinions on our new Quiddich line of Jokes and Apparel,” George smiled, “you’ve just witnessed the Cannon Cap, for all those devoted fans of the Chudley Cannons. Its basically a cannon ball that will pelt at anyone who curses the Cannons, but in Ron’s case it follows him lovingly for his continued support of the team.”
“Brilliant,” Harry laughed as he watched the orange cannon ball burn deeper into the ground.
“We’ll be back tonight,” Hermione shouted as she pulled Harry toward the car, “if we can leave sometime today.”
This time the car was buzzing with chatter, most of which was Ron giving Harry a play by play of the last Cannons game and angrily pointing out every one of the terrible mistakes and penalties that should have been called but were missed.
Harry was happy to have the change of topic. Everything that they talked about was light and care free, from summer laziness, to quiddich playoffs, it made the time fly by as they continued to cruise down the road.
Finally, as the sun had reached the highest point in the sky, Hermione slowed the car’s speed as the pulled into a small village, “well this is it,” she said as tall stone fences, covered in ivy, began to line the streets.
Godric’s Hollow was a small wizard settlement in the middle of the English country side. Large garden walls surrounded huge manner houses and small farm cabins. It looked like a place out of a story book, old and enchanted. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he looked around. Had everything in his life not happened, he would have grown up in a small little village, that was completely picturesque, and lived happily ever after with his family. But, alas, sadness began to flood into him as a small country church drew closer and closer to the car. Hermione stopped close to the iron gates and turned to look over her should at Harry in the back seat.
“Are you ready?” she asked looking sympathetic.
“You can see the willow tree from here,” Ron said pointing out the windshield at the corner of the yard.
“Yeah,” Harry said as he pushed open the door, “I had better be.”
They walked slowly around the church yard, peering down every so often at another name on a headstone. Some of the names Harry recognized and other he have never seen before. But soon they came to a small head stone nestled close to the willow’s trunk. The stone was guarded by a white marble angel, who’s face looked sad and tear filled. The stone itself had started to gather moss, and great patches of green cover small sections of its front. Still, the inscription could be seen clearly.
Here Lay Lily and James Potter
Beloved Parents and Brave Friends
To have known them
Was to know love and feel belonging.
They will be Missed.
Harry looked on sadly at the simple headstone. It had been his experience to hear of this parents second hand. Here, once more, he only knew them through words. They had both died to save him and yet they had never known that it was foretold, by prophesy, that it would be so. Harry wiped a tear from his eye as he straightened and looked around once again.
“They lived here,” he said softly to his friends who had stood back a bit from him, “I wonder if the house is still standing.”
“Hagrid has told us that the house was ruined when he found you,” Hermione said sympathetically.
“But there must be ruins,” Ron said a little louder, “do you think they are still here? Really would anyone want to rebuild on cursed ground?”
“Good point Ron,” Harry said walking back toward them, “lets take a walk.”
As they turned to leave the church yard, Harry couldn’t help but look back to the site where his parents lay. The breeze, of the hot summer day, blew through the willows branches and the flower pedals fell to the ground around the grave stone. It was a very beautiful place for them to rest.
They made their way slowly back to the path that lead to the front gates. They had to pass in front of the church. At the entrance to the church a short man, with snow white hair stood at the door, looking down at them.
“Who do you seek in the past?” the man asked as he descended the stairs.
“The Potters,” Hermione said softly, “we’ve found them, thanks.”
But the man didn’t return to his church, he simply stared down at Harry, “I’ve been waiting years to see you come here Mr. Potter,” the old man said as Harry had turned his back to the church.
Harry jumped at being addressed but the man. It wasn’t an odd occurrence for him, as he was very well know, but it was strange to know that this pastor had been waiting for him.
“I beg you pardon?” Harry asked as he turned to face the old man.
“I knew your parents, son,” he said walking quickly, “they were good, caring people, and more has happened to involve them. More things than anyone knows but things that you must find on your own.”
“Ok,” Harry said looking more confused.
“What is it you are really looking for?” the old man asked, “memories or materials?”
“Well, both I guess,” Harry said slowly, “do you know where I can find them?”
“Well the memories will not be found here,” he said softly, “and the ruins of the house will not give up much, but here, these were found in the debris of the house,” he said and handed Harry a small, charred wooden box.
“What is it?” Ron asked.
“It’s a jewelry box,” Hermione said as she rolled her eyes.
“It was one of the only things that survived the fire,” the old man said.
“He set fire to the house?” Ron asked looking more confused.
“Yes,” the old man said, “the unforgivable curse one steals life, it does disfigure. With his last ounce of power he set fire to the house hoping to smother the baby and end his life another way.”
“Were the body’s destroyed beyond recognition?” Harry asked as he looked back toward his parents grave.
“Not completely,” the old man said sadly, “your father was worse than you mother, his burns were very bad, Lily however, looked like she was merely asleep.”
Harry lowered his eyes to the box in his hand. Slowly he lifted the cover and to his amazement the contents glowed bright and beautiful. Closing the lid Harry held it close to his chest, “her wedding ring isn’t in the box,” he said softly. He had seen the wedding ring in a picture he had acquired.
“No, she never took it off,” the old pastor said, “she was buried with it.”
“As it should be,” Hermione whispered.
Harry fell silent again. He looked around the small church yard. It was quiet and peaceful. It would have been a happy place had he known it for what it was. But his heart began to ache the longer he stood there. Slowly he turned and took one last look to the corner where his parent lay. He felt suddenly that he had learned everything he was supposed to and his mind was sad, but at ease.
“I think we should go,” he said softly, “thank you for keeping this for me,” he said to the pastor.
“Good luck, my son,” the old man said and turned back to his church.

Chapter 9: A Return to Hogwarts.
The next morning was absolute mayhem as they rushed to pull everything down the stairs and out toward the waiting ministry cars. It wasn’t unusual for this last minute panic to set in but every year Mrs Weasley wished they’d have been more prepared.
“Your fault mum,” Ron yelled down the stairs, “had to have a family dinner didn’t you!”
“You mind how you speak to me Ronald, or you’ll be staying home,” Molly yelled up the stairs.
Trunks flew down the stairs one after another, and were caught by Mr Weasley who loaded them into the cars. Tonks paced outside the front door, looking nervous and distracted and not wanting to cause anymore trouble with her clumsiness. Lupin sat quietly at the kitchen table, trying to calm Molly down.
“If they forget anything, you can always send it along,” he said as he watched another trunk fly past him and out the door.
“They’d forget their heads if they weren’t fastened to their necks,” she said a but frantically.
Remus laughed at the comment.
Soon Hermione and Ron collided with each other in the stair case.
“Where is Crookshanks?” Hermione asked tears in her eyes.
“We’ll find him,” Ron said and passed his mother Pig’s cage.
“Quickly you two,” She said as they ran back up the stairs.
Harry had managed to pack and stow Hedwig away before the morning mess had arrived. He had woken up very early with a terrible sinking feeling that just wouldn’t go away. From the Gryffindore tower they could see the place where Dumbledore’s body had been laid to rest. He had been dreading seeing that from the moment he agreed to returned, however something strange had hit him in the middle of the night. The letter from Professor McGonagall had said it was Dumbledore’s wish that he returned. How could this be possible, he wanted so badly to talk to Hermione and Ron about it but couldn’t as they ran frantically around the Burrow trying to get ready to leave.
He walked slowly out of the house, and looked back at the small, but cozy, dwelling he had so often visited. He smiled to think he may return but feared that he wouldn’t ever see it again.
“Well Harry,” Mr Weasley said breaking him out of his trance, “ready to go?”
“Yes,” Harry answered turning away from the very picturesque scene before him.
“What’s bothering you my boy?” Arthur asked as he watched the expression on Harry’s face change from happiness to sadness.
“I’m just a little confused,” Harry said, “I’m still not sure I am making the right decision about going back.”
“Oh you are,” Mr Weasley said as he squeezed Harry’s shoulder, “you’ll have all the help you need and Dumbledore, at Hogwarts.”
“But Dumbledore is dead,” Harry said looking confused.
“Ah, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone,” Arthur smiled, “in fact I had a lovely chat with him just last week. His new portrait hangs in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. They had to replace the fountain of Magic Brotherin with something.”
“You think they’ll be one Hogwarts?” Harry asked his face full of hope.
“Oh yes, I know there is, Dumbledore, himself said so,” Arthur laughed.
Suddenly, Harry felt fifty times better about returning to Hogwarts. He would have the help he needed so long as he could talk to Dumbledore. At least now he would be able to start where Dumbledore had left off. He’d know exactly where to look. Everything seemed to be falling into place for Harry.
Ron and Hermione came running out of the house, arguing the whole way, followed by Ginny who carried Crookshanks and looked annoyed. They piled into the two cars, sent by the ministry and off they headed for the station.
It was a busy, Monday morning in the heart of London. More muggles and trains than Harry had ever seen, packed the station.
“We’re so late,” Molly cried as they all rushed along to the space between platforms nine and ten. It wasn’t difficult to gain entrance to platform nine and three quarters with so many people around but on the other side was a totally different story. Security wizards had set up booths all along the platform and were rummaging through school trunks as the students passed through the barrier. It was messy work and the trunks were left in worse shape then how they had arrived but soon everyone made it through and were able to start to find placed on the train. Harry met up with Neville and Luna just as he came through the security check point and watched as Ron and Hermione ran off to the Prefects carriage. Hermione, however didn’t wear her prefects badge anymore but head girl was printed on her badge now.
“When did that happen?” Harry asked her as she tried to rush away.
“Please don’t be mad,” she said looking fearful.
“I’m not made, that’s amazing, you deserve it,” Harry smiled.
Hermione blushed very red, “thanks,” she said looking toward the end of the train, “I found out a week into the summer holidays. But I really must go, I’ll talk to you about it later,” she smiled and hurried off as the Hogwarts express sounded its whistle.
Harry, Luna and Neville found an empty compartment together and Ginny soon joined them red in the face and looking quite angry.
“What happened?” Harry asked as the train picked up speed.
“The Slytherins,” Ginny huffed as she planted herself in a seat across from Harry.
“What did they do now,” he asked.
“Oh Crabb and Goyle thought it would be funny to announce to the platform, and my parents, that I was at highest risked with you as my boyfriend,” Ginny said as she cracked her knuckles loudly.
“But,” Harry began but averted her glare.
Luna and Neville looked away uncomfortably.
“I... I don’t want you to get hurt,” Harry said as he looked at his shoes.
“You don’t have to worry about me Harry,” Ginny said sounding forceful yet sympathetic, “I’ll do what I want, and if that means fighting by your side, whether you want me to or not, I’ll do it because I want to and because I wont let you do it alone and neither will any of your friends.”
“Yeah,” Neville said and then turned away again.
“Thanks,” Harry said as he looked out the window.
“You don’t sound convincing,” Luna said airily.
“We’ll I can’t say I am happy that you all want to risk your necks for me, and I don’t want to see any of you go the same way my parents went, or Cedric Diggory for that matter, but I can’t stop you, can I,” Harry sighed.
“Nope,” Ginny said blankly.
“So what did you do to Crabb and Goyle?” Luna asked after a long silence.
“I’ve got a mean right hook, that’s all I’ll say,” Ginny grinned and cracked her knuckles again.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful. Hermione and Ron, joined them, just as the lunch trolley was passing the cabin door. Harry had purchased a pile of sweets for his friends but didn’t hold much of an appetite, he simply stared out the window at the passing countryside. He was on his way to his last year at Hogwarts, only months ago he had vowed never to return and only that morning he had been excited at the prospect of going back and talking to Dumbledore, but what Ginny had said made him think and his dread had returned. He would not be able to stop his friends from fighting with him, as he had not been able to save Sirius or Dumbledore. Would he be able to handle the burden on knowing that they cared so much for him to fight at his side? Would he be able to do it alone had he been able to convince them to stay safe? Did he really know that they weren’t, already, marked as dead by Lord Voldemort. There were too many uncertainties again in his mind.
“Harry,” he heard his name being called from somewhere back in his present but his mind was somewhere else. He continued to stare out the window. The sky was getting dark now. Clouds were rolling in and the wind moved the leaves in the trees. It wouldn’t be long before they reached Hogsmeade and be lead up the drive to the castle.
“Harry,” he heard again, a little more forcefully this time. He turned away from the window slowly and stared at his friends who looked at him with confused expressions on their faces.
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, looking worried, “was it You Know Who?”
“No,” Harry said still not paying much attention, “just thinking.”
“You seem completely lost,” Ginny said as she looked at him more forcefully.
“I’m fine,” he said, “what did I miss?”
“Well, we were just saying that we will be arriving soon and should put on our robes,” Hermione said, “Ron and I have to head back to the Prefects cabin as well, we’ll meet you in the great hall before the sorting,” she said and waited for Harry to respond.
“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” he said half heartedly.
“Alright,” Hermione said hesitantly and pulled Ron away with her.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Luna asked as she pulled her trunk open, pushed aside stacks of Quibblers and pulled from it a rather wrinkled robe.
“Yeah fine,” Harry said still not moving from his place.
“Well fine,” Luna said as she stood up suddenly, “I’ll leave you be for a bit,” and she left the compartment followed closely by Neville, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.
“Alright, what’s the matter?” Ginny asked as she pulled her robe over her head.
“Paranoia I suppose,” Harry said not looking at her.
“Well, fine,” she said, “but don’t think I believe it for a second.”
“Its true,” Harry said more forcefully, “why can’t I be paranoid that all my friends want to do is help me and that means putting themselves in danger. Why can’t I be paranoid that whether I like it or not you are all, already marked as dead, just like my parents were.”
“Your aloud,” Ginny said softly as she moved to sit beside him, “but there is nothing you can do about it, just like there is nothing you can do about your destiny. Like it or not people are here to help you, as people risk their lives and their reputations to help Voldemort. Why should you be more of the under dog than you already are.”
“You think I am the under dog?” Harry asked fearfully.
“Aren’t we all?” she sighed.
The train began to slow.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Harry asked as he watched the lights of Hogsmeade come into view.
“For what, breaking my heart or just being you?” Ginny asked mockingly.
“Both, I guess,” Harry couldn’t help but laughed.
“Yeah,” Ginny smiled, “but be warned I want vengeance. You’ll pay Harry Potter.” she cracked her knuckles again.
Harry shook his head and laughed. He pulled his trunk down from the luggage space and quickly pulled his robes over his head.
The train came to a stop, the doors were opened and students began to pile out. Once again the platform was covered with security wizards that led the students one by one toward the carriages that waited to take them up to the school. Hagrid called to the first years over the sound of the shouting security wizards and they made their way to the other end of the platform, where Hagrid stood with a group of other people.
“The Order,” Ginny whispered as she pointed to the group gathered around Hagrid, “look all of them, Tonks, Lupin, Moody, everyone.”
“They must have flown with the train,” Harry whispered noticing the brooms that Hagrid held in one arm.
“Upped security at the castle?” Ginny asked as they climbed into one of the black carriages.
“I wont complain having the Order around,” Harry said as he settled himself in beside her.
“Me either,” she said.
The castle was ablaze with light as they drew nearer to it. The carriages pulled up one by one, to the doors, and then left again to get more students. The entrance hall was packed, but students moved quickly. The great hall looked different though. The four house table filled the length of the room and the castle ghosts floated around the room. The enchanted ceiling was littered with stars and candles that hung in mid air. The tables were topped, as always, with gold plates and goblets but no food had appeared. This was common for the great hall, but the staff table at the head of the hall was doubled, there were two of them placed on risers and above the furthest table was a giant black curtain. The sight of it gave Harry chills. They walked into the loud, crowded, Great Hall and took places close to the staff table but none of the professors came in. Hermione and Ron joined them as the tables filled, happy students with friends they hadn’t seen in two months.. A great space that one end was left open for the new students. The stool had already been placed in front of the two front tables. Soon the members of the Order of the Phoenix took their places at the first table and familiar teacher took their placed at the furthest table. Professor McGonagall strolled in with Professor Sprout and took a place at the head of the staff table.
“Wonder who the deputy head is now,” Hermione whispered but her question was soon answered as a burly man, taller than most of the professors but shorter than Hagrid strolled quickly to McGonagall’s side. She stood, nodded to him and began to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she shouted and the hall fell silent, “before the sorting commences we have a few things that need to be dealt with. As you can see the school had employed a new security team. They are all members of the Order of the Phoenix and most of which are Aurors hand chosen by Dumbledore to guard the school,” she said and motioned to the table before her, “also, before I can assume full duties as Headmistress, a very special ceremony must take place by the previous Headmaster, this will take place after the sorting and Professor Dumbledore will address you all,” some very quizzical expressions looked up at the head table. Harry could hear whispers around him about Dumbledore being dead but more seem excited to see what was really in store. “Finally I would like to introduce to you a few of our new staff Members, Professor Maxwell Beck will be taking on the duties of Deputy Headmaster and Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor,” The tall burly man, who looked more like a lumberjack than a professor, bowed next to McGonagall, “Nymphadora Tonks, of the Order of the Phoenix will also take on the duties of Transfigurations Professor and Professor Snape will be returning as Potions Master,” she said as the grease haired, angry looking man walked into the great hall.
Cries of outrage followed him into as students realized that he really was among them. People cried and pointed out that he was a death eater. Everyone in the room knew of what Snape had done last year. The yells didn’t seem to faze him at all, he took up his seat at next to McGonagall, “silence!” she cried, but no one was listening. She simply took her seat as the members of the Order of the Phoenix all stood at once to block the farthest table at the front. The noise died down, but anger and misunderstanding remained on the faces of many. Professor Beck walked quickly away from the staff table and out a side door. The Sorting was about to start.
Harry was shocked, he caught Snape’s eyes, he was staring at him now, as he sat done again. Hermione rubbed her hands together nervously. Ron and Ginny only stared at each other and Neville, who had joined them just moments before, quivered with fear.
“Are you alright, Harry,” Ginny asked as she pull his sleeve to break his stare away from Snape.
“What the Hell is he doing here?” was all that Harry could say.

Chapter 11: Passing of Power.
The start of term feast was the most subdued they had ever encountered, in all their magical education. The conversations at the tables were not that of happy summers and returning to friends but of anger and uncertainty. The enchanted ceiling grew increasingly darker as the clouds began to roll in and mimic the sky outside. Soon none of the stars were visible and the thunder rumbled outside the castle. The talk was polite and uncomfortable, Harry had not yet looked Hermione or Ron in the eyes since his outburst, but they had carried on conversation all through the meal. Occasionally the portrait, that hung overlooking the great hall, would address a student or a professor, Snape seeming to get most of Dumbledore’s attention, but for the most part, Dumbledore remained silent and most eyes remained on Harry and the great red bird on his shoulder.
When the dinner dishes were cleared and the puddings arrived, Fawkes hopped down onto the table and nibbled through a bowl of fruit as Ron helped himself to an apple pie that had appeared before him.
“Alright,” Ginny said as she grabbed an apple that Fawkes had tried to eat. She sliced it for the great bird and held it out to him, “I’m getting really tired of this uncomfortable politeness. Harry, either make a proper apology to your friends or I’m off to sit with the Gryffindore’s in my year,” she said looking at him with a very Mrs. Weasley look on her face.
Harry lowed his eyes again to the plate of pie he had helped himself to, “I’m sorry,” he said to his pie.
“Come on,” Ginny sighed, “at least look at us, you were a jerk, a little too full of yourself and it was uncalled for. Yes we are all angry about Snape but this is the safest place in all of Britain and he wouldn’t be hear if they thought he was dangerous,” she said pointing at Snape and pulling the apple away from Fawkes.
The bird screeched and she returned her hand to within the birds reach.
“Yes, but he killed Dumbledore,” Harry said feeling angry again.
“We know,” Hermione said, “but maybe he wanted to go.”
“What?” Ron gasped, “are you mad, who would want to die?”
“There are things far worse then death,” Hermione said to him.
“I don’t know if he wanted to die,” Harry said contemplating his every word as to not start another fight, “but maybe he knew he had to.”
“See now you are thinking,” Ginny smiled.
“Maybe it is all part of finding information,” Hermione said as she quickly glanced up at the Portrait of Dumbledore, “he was a brilliant man, I don’t think Snape could have killed him unless he was told to. If Voldemort has failed to kill Dumbledore all these years, because he was the one person he feared, why would Snape be able to do it?”
Harry remained quiet for a long time. He knew that Draco Malfoy couldn’t bring himself to do it and that Snape had come in and did it for him, or that’s how it seemed, but then was he playing both sides? He wasn’t sure, it was a very touchy subject.
“What do you think Harry?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “it all happened so fast, we’d only know what really happened if we got to talk to Dumbledore.”
“Well he is going to make a speech,” Ron said as he motioned toward the painting, “I just wish he’d hurry up, I’m ready for bed.”
“Oh its not going to be a short proceeding,” Hermione said.
“What do you mean?” Ron asked with a yawn.
“The Passing of Power ceremony is quite a long process, it starts when the Headmaster or Mistress dies and spans till Midnight of the first night of the first term in which a new Headmaster or Mistress is put into place.”
Everyone at the table stared at Hermione, confusion playing on all of their faces, even the strange Gryffindore girl, Brindalette, was listening now.
“Oh my, none of you have read Hogwarts: a History, have you?” Hermione asked, more students moving in around her to hear the explanation, “well, I guess you’ll have to know. When a Headmaster or Mistress is put into place, everything from the owls, to the house elves, to the security features of the castle have to pass from one hand to the other, so to speak,” she said as she motioned around the great hall, “all of the previous Headmaster’s secrets have to be shared with the new one.”
“Well what’s so hard about that?” Ron asked.
“Dumbledore is dead that’s what’s hard,” Brindalette butted in.
“Who asked you?” Ron retaliated.
“She’s right Ron,” Hermione said trying to stop another fight from breaking out, “the problem is that the dead Headmaster, Dumbledore in our case, was the Hogwarts secret keeper, he was made secret keeper by the Head before him.”
“But to be a secret keep you must have a physical bond with the person to who the secrets are going to,” Harry said.
“Exactly, that is the problem,” she said, “and that is why it takes so long and that is why they have a deputy Head, to play witness to the contract. It also makes it easier for the secrets to move to the person next in line as Head of the school.”
“So that’s why Umbridge couldn’t get into the Headmasters office back in our fifth year,” Neville piped in, “she wasn’t next in line and so the office had turned against her and became unpassable.”
“Right,” Hermione smiled, “now, however, Dumbledore is dead and the castle needs a new secret keeper and so seven days after Dumbledore’s death the preparations would have been made to bind him to his portraits and keep him at the school. During that time the deputy head start the transition to a higher chair by overseeing all of the preparations for the passing of power, Professor McGonagall has probably spent her entire summer here in the castle learning the secrets and tonight, at midnight, the power will pass between them.”
“And what happens?” Brindalette asked.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione answered truthfully, “it doesn’t say in any books I have researched, only that it is part of the secrets of Hogwarts and none of us will ever be able to repeat what we see because of an ancient magic that was placed on the castle by the founders.”
“But we will see it, right,” she asked.
“Oh yes, we have to,” Hermione answered, “or the magic will not be complete.”
Everyone around her looked more confused than before, but before Hermione could try and clarify herself, the dishes were cleared away and the torches around the great hall went out. The only light came from the millions of candles that floated in the ceiling. Without the torches, that lined the hall, the candles were very dim and they did something they had never done before. As the light faded from the hall, the candles lowered themselves from the ceiling and placed themselves in perfect lines along the tables. The portrait of Dumbledore also lowered itself to the ground as Professor McGonagall came and stood before the staff and students. She walked slowly, just as slowly as the portrait that floated from out of thin air and only touched the floor when they were side by side each other. The Portrait of Dumbledore turned sideways so that only the thickness of the canvas could be seen and Minerva McGonagall turned and faced the portrait as if she were looking into a mirror. She raised her hand, palm to the sky and held it out before her and suddenly a hand protruded from the canvas and grasped hers. A silver beam of light connected the hands and lit up Professor McGonagall’s face. Then, just as strangely, she stepped backward, still holding tightly to the hand and soon a whole being stepped out of the Portrait in front of her. An astonished silence fell over the great hall as Professor McGonagall stood facing Professor Dumbledore, then suddenly the silver light that bound them broke away and the hall fell dim once more, but Dumbledore didn’t return to the painting, he turned and faced the students.
He released McGonagall’s hand and stepped down the stone steps that rose up to the staff tables. “Welcome back,” he said as he outstretched his hands, as if to embrace the students, “to all of you who are returning, it is good to see you all here and safe. To you,” he pointed toward the ends of the house tables, the ends closest to him where all the first years sat, “welcome to your first year at Hogwarts, do not be afraid,” he smiled at them, “I know this may seem a bit out of the ordinary, especially for you muggle born witches and wizards, but you’ll get used to the new and wonderful things that magic will offer you. As for me, you’ll only ever see me in portraits after midnight tonight,” he said, his smile grew wider and kinder as he walked.
Soon Dumbledore was so close to Harry he could have reached out and touched him, but, even though he could see and hear him, Harry was frightened by what he had just seen. Dumbledore reached out and touched Fawkes, who was once again perched on Harry’s shoulder. He turned and faced Harry then, “you are right to be angry,” he said, “but there are powers at work here, in the world, that even Lord Voldemort doesn’t understand. You are above it, as is Professor Snape, but I suppose that I owe everyone, especially you Harry, an apology,” at these words Dumbledore headed back toward the staff table. As he went, he motioned for Snape to stand and come to meet him around the table.
Snape stood reluctantly and came to stand face to face with Dumbledore. Even outside of the painting he seemed larger than light. He stood tall, proud and just his presence seemed to intimidate Snape. Dumbledore rolled up the sleeve of his robe, the hand that had been black and dead, looked healthy and alive. He reached out and grabbed Snape’s arm and forced the sleeve of Snape’s black robe up past his elbow. Snape looked furious, and yet he didn’t struggle against Dumbledore. The mark, the dark mark, was so visible on Snape’s arm that everyone in the hall could see it. It was black and sick, on his arm, and almost looked like it pulsed.
“I told you once,” Dumbledore said looking at Snape, “that I trusted you and you told me once, I would never have reason not to trust you. Was I right in trusting you all these years, Severus?”
“Yes, Albus,” Snape answered.
“And I told you once, you would have to betray me to betray him,” Dumbledore said, “but you did not believe me.”
“I did not,” Snape answered.
“But you did as I had told you, because it was foreseen,” Dumbledore said.
“I did,” Snape said never lowering his eyes but staring more strongly into Dumbledore’s
“Now, I will do as I told you I would, are you ready to be free of his power?” Dumbledore asked.
“I am,” Snape said.
“He’ll know at once that you have betrayed him,” Dumbledore said.
“He knows already, as I have returned to Hogwarts,” Snape said.
A smile rose on Dumbledore’s face as he reached out, with his free hand, and placed it on Snape arm, over the place where the dark mark resided. As he removed his hand the mark went with it and Snape’s arm was left bare. He released Snape from his grasp and no one had ever seen this man so happy. He touched his arm, in the place where the mark had been. It was gone, no trace of it remained.
“Now do you believe?” Dumbledore asked.
“Yes,” Snape answered and reached out to shake Dumbledore’s hand.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Dumbledore said, “should you not have trust, and give trust then you’ll never know what you are really up against. As I have said many times, when I lived, I do trust Professor Snape and that should be enough for you, but now you have my proof that this man has always worked for me, as it had been foreseen.”
“Stop!” Brindalette cried as she stood up. Her two friends had done exactly the same, at exactly the same time. She jumped from her place, climbed over the Gryffindore table, savagely pushing people away from her, and rushed toward Dumbledore and Snape. Snape drew his wand immediately, out of instinct, and placed himself between Dumbledore and the three girls who charged toward him but he moved Snape aside with a glance. Brindalette came to a dead stop only feet away from Dumbledore, her hands outstretched before him and everyone could see a ball had appeared in her hands. White mist began to form in the ball as her eyes rolled back in her head and he head fell backward. Her hair and robes danced in a wind that seemed to encompass the small group gathered at the front of the hall. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were already on their feet and moving around the room to try and keep the crowd of students calm. Her friends stopped behind her and watched her with concern but familiarity on their faces.
“he who has betrayed is now betrayer once more,” the words floated from her mouth, but were not in her own voice. The voice was harsh, dark and growling, like a wild animal had taken hold of her. It sounded like the sound came from deep within her and the power of what was happening had a complete grasp on her physical and mental being.
Harry recognized what was happening, as it had happened to him before. However, the students in the hall, seemed more frightened than they had been to see Dumbledore walk out of the painting. Students who had known what was taking place tried to calm the other and keep control that was greatly dwindling even with all the efforts of the Order but it wasn’t working. Their cries of terror drowned out the sound of the voice coming from Brindalette’s mouth. Harry jumped up from his seat and, not knowing what he was doing, ran to over hear the prophecy. Pushing people out of his way as he went.
“He has been marked for death by the Dark Lord but before he dies his hatred for The One will be moved aside. He will, at the risk of his own life, help Harry Potter to destroy the last bits of the Dark Ones soul,” the words escaped Brindalette’s mouth just as her body fell limp. Harry dove forward and caught her before she fell. Snape had reacted in much the same way, catching the tiny crystal ball from her hands, before it hit the floor. Harry stared at Snape over the limp body of Brindalette Beauregard, a terrible understanding crossing both of their faces.
“I’m so sorry,” Brin whispered in her own voice, as he eyes fluttered open.
“It’s not your fault,” Harry whispered as he helped her to her feet.
“Alisianelle, Raelyn, take her to the hospital wing,” Dumbledore whispered to the two other girls.
Harry stood next to Snape as the two girls fought to carry their weak friend through the chaos that had developed in the great hall. Snape stared at the crystal in his hand and then held it out to Dumbledore.
“Take care of it,” Dumbledore said to Snape pushing it away, “no one else needs know what it speaks of. It would be safer for both you and Harry if you kept it. Now please take your seats, its nearly midnight.” he said hastily and Harry rushed back to his place beside Ginny.
Dumbledore raised his arms once again to the congregation, in the great hall. Silence fell at once as Harry regained his seat. “The time has come, my friends, for you to know what you face,” He said into the silent hall. Students stared at him as the clock in the entrance hall chimed the first stroke of twelve, “the Dark Lord has gained power, much more power than he had ever gained and more followers than we could have ever anticipated. We loose more and more good people each day by the hands of the Death Eaters and there is very little safety anywhere, but by my dying I have given another magic to this castle,” the clocked chimed the second of twelve, “safety to all who remain within this castle and its ground. The Dark Lord, nor his Death Eaters can pass the boarders of the Hogwarts.” The third chime sounded, “but I pray that you heed the warning we have given you. Unite with each other, work together to defeat the darkness or you’ll be taken too by the evil that is growing.” Forth chime, “I have done all that I can to help you and now I must move on.” The fifth chime sounded and a golden roll of parchment appeared in mid air before Dumbledore. He reached out for it and grasped it in his right hand. The sixth chime sounded and Professor McGonagall rushed forward again and stood facing him. On the seventh chime she reached out and took the other end of the golden roll of parchment. A great light erupted, bright and golden, between them as the clock chimed an eighth time. Professor Maxwell Beck stepped forward on the ninth chime and placed his hand between theirs on the golden roll of parchment. He cleared his throat on the tenth chime and began to speak.
“Do you Minerva McGonagall, take all secret and responsibilities from the hands of Albus Dumbledore and promise to keep them till the days of your death, to protect and prolong the longevity and high magical standards of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” he asked.
“I do,” She said as the clock gave up its eleventh chime.
The golden parchment melted away from between their hands and entangled itself around the group of three. The light from the golden thread that knotted around them shown brighter still. On the twelfth stroke, of the hour of midnight, Dumbledore disappeared from the bind of the golden thread. The canvas, that Dumbledore had walked out of, still stood in its place but a thick wooden boarder appeared around its edge. It teetered for a moment and fell backward into Hagrid, who had rushed to catch it. There behind the frame was Dumbledore once more.
The golden light faded from around Professor McGonagall and Professor Beck as silence fell over the great hall once again. A new power seemed to radiate off of Minerva McGonagall as she shook hands with the new Deputy Headmaster, the next in line to take a the pledge when she was gone. She then turned to the students and with the wave of one of her arms, the torches along the hall burst to life once more. The hall was flooded in light and the students groaned as the brightness came in around them.
“I would like, once again, to welcome you all to Hogwarts, for what should prove to be an interesting year, if anything,” Professor McGonagall said in her first official address to the students, “I would just like to remind you that the forbidden forest is off limits to all students. Please be aware of the new security we have added to the school and remember to treat the members of the Order of the Phoenix as you would your professors. They are hear to protect you, to guard the students when the magic of the castle is not enough. It is my wish that everything carry on as it would normally. Quiddich trial will begin shortly after the start of term. Third year students and up will still be aloud their visits to the town of Hogsmeade, with the accompaniment of the members of the order. We do remind you, however, that no students should be out of their dormitories after dark and that disobeying the rules results in very harsh punishments. You’ve all been through a great deal tonight, but I assure you that your nice, warm bed await you, and don’t fret about what you have witnessed here tonight, most of it you’ll not remember in the morning. Good night,” she said and turned and left out a side door beside the staff table.
The benches scraped across the floor as the students slowly rose. Frightened students huddled together as they left the great hall. The first years swarmed their house prefects. Ron and Hermione managed to escape the group and left the new Gryffindore Prefects take care to lead the first year. They hung back with Harry, who stared at the portrait of Dumbledore once again. Dumbledore waved to them from behind his frame as he stifled a yawn.
“Are you satisfied with his response?” Hermione asked quietly after a long silence between them.
“I’m going to have to be,” Harry said, his mind drifting to the prophecy he had over heard, “I’ve got bigger things to worry about now.”
“So the Prophecy did involve you?” Ron asked.
“And Snape,” Harry said, “but there are to many ears around. I’ll tell you everything when we reach the common room.”
“Good idea,” Hermione said as she walked a bit quicker, catching up to another group of Gryffindores, “its been quite a night hasn’t it?” she asked as they moved along the corridor that lead to the tower.
“Yea,” Harry sighed, “started off on a great foot haven’t I. I’m sorry I was so terrible to you,” he said for the first time looking Hermione in the eyes.
“I know you are,” she smiled.
“We were just wondering how long it would take you to crack,” Ron laughed, “good thing it happened so early, we have a whole year ahead of us now and now that, that’s out of the way we can really focus on what is important.”
“Yeah,” Harry said with a smile as they came to the portrait of the fat lady, “I’ll try my best to keep my temper under control this year.”
“You just need to get out flying, I think,” Ron said, “when do we start practice Captain?”
“Soon,” Harry smiled.
“Oh boys, of course Quiddich is all you are worried about now,” Hermione sighed.
“What else is there to worry about now?” Ron said.
Harry laughed and the all settled in to hear Harry’s story

Chapter 13: The New Heads of House.
Harry had slept, surprisingly, well, considering the evening he had, had. Once they had arrived in the common room and He, Ron and Hermione had a good long discussion about that evenings developments, they found themselves to tired to continue and retired to their dorm rooms as if they had never left Hogwarts. Sleep came quickly to Harry, as Fawkes settled on the head of his four poster bed. Ron had already dropped off and Neville and the other boys, that shared the dorm didn’t stir at all from their sleep. He was able to shut everything out of his racing mind and drifted off into a very restful sleep.
The sun was bight in the sky before Harry pulled himself out of his bed and dressed in his new school robes. The events of the previous night seemed all misty in his mine and there were parts of it he couldn’t make any sense of like it had all been a dream. Hermione had told them that most of what they saw would not remain with them but Harry hadn’t believed her, until now as he paced before the window trying desperately to remember parts of the evening leading up to the prophesy, or was that a dream as well. Their dormitory already looked as it had the year before, just as it would to have five teenage boys sharing a room. Clothing was already out of their trunks and in miraculous location around the circular room. Harry looked to the mess of dirty clothing he had left from the previous evening but before he could bring himself to tidy it up Ron flung the blankets off his bed and stretched noisily.
“Morning, mate,” Ron yawned as he jumped out of his bed, “don’t think I have ever slept so well in my life,” he added.
“Do you remember much of last night?” Harry asked hopping he wasn’t the only one to be at a loss for details.
“Nope, can’t say I do,” Ron said trying to flatten his messy bed hair.
Harry and Ron both laughed heartedly at each other and Harry walked off to wash up. Ron followed shortly after and before long they descended the spiral stair case to the common room. It was full of first year students, to shy to head down to breakfast on their own and a few other upper year students who had just woken up.
“Good morning boys,” Hermione said from a chair by the fire place.
“Morning,” they said at the same time.
“How come you’re not already down in the great hall. You’re always so excited to get you times table,” Ron said as he fell into the chair next to her.
“I thought I’d wait for you, and I’ve been having a lovely chat with Professor Dumbledore,” she said and motioned to the fireplace.
Above the thick wooden mantel of the common room fire, rested the huge portrait of Dumbledore that they had seen the previous evening.
“Oi,” Ron jumped a little, “when did they put you there sir,” he asked awkwardly.
“Last night after the three of you, finally, went up to bed,” Dumbledore smiled, “you do stay up far to late.”
“Why weren’t you placed in Professor McGonagall’s office?” Harry asked, smiling up at the portrait.
“Oh, I’ve got a painting there too, its much smaller mind you, but it is in its rightful place among the other head masters. This painting however was much to big and was a very early request of mine, when I became head master of hogwarts. I was head of Gryffindore house first you know and a student here myself. It is one of my favorite places in the castle, always has been. So, I’ve got more room and one of the best views of the lake in all the castle,” he said and motioned out an adjoining window at the beautiful, sparkling blue, lake.
They enjoyed a conversation with Dumbledore for a few more moments before Ron’s stomach rumbled and Dumbledore shooed them away to eat breakfast and enter on their first day of classes.
“It’ll be very convenient to have Professor Dumbledore there,” Hermione said as they turned toward the portrait hole.
“The problem will be picking on the first years,” Ron hiss as he rounded on a group of them staring at Harry.
“You’re a prefect Ron, set an example,” Hermione hissed.
Ron made faces at Hermione behind her back mimicking her scolding.
Harry laughed at Ron then noticed Ginny making her way through the crowd of first years, “good morning,” he said and smiled.
“Hey,” she said brightly and waved up at the portrait of Dumbledore, “morning sir, welcome back,” she smiled.
“Thank you Miss. Weasley,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. He then turned back toward the rest of them, “you really had better be off to breakfast. I think you’ll really enjoy classed with Professor Beck, he really is quite brilliant,” he smiled and waved them on.
“Oh yeah the new DADA professor,” Ron said excitedly as the climbed through the portrait hole and out into the hall, “let see if lessons top your’s Harry. Anyone’s got to be better than Snape.”
“Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore called after them.
“Sorry sir,” Ron said back into the common room as his face flushed red.
Hermione and Ginny giggled.
Once in the hall, it wasn’t had for the, now seventh year, students to find their way down to the great hall. The smell of breakfast foods wafted through the open entrance hall and up as far as the second floor stairs. They rushed down to the Gryffindore table, dodging lost looking first years and seated themselves together. The sun flooded in through the windows, making the gold plates and goblets glow. They had arrived just in time for the morning post. Hermione received her Daily Prophet the moment she sat down and Ron received an update from his mother who had just needed something else to take her mind off things and to make sure her clock was wrong, as Ron and Ginny, as well as all the rest of the family, were always in mortal peril according to the clock.
“I wish she’d just put it away,” Ron sighed as he rolled the parchment back up.
“She’s just worried,” Hermione said from behind her paper.
Hedwig arrived moments later with a bright pink envelope in her beak. She landed softly on Harry’s shoulder and dropped the envelope into his lap.
“Who’s sending you love letters,” Ron laughed at the sight of the pink envelope.
“Its from my Aunt Petunia,” Harry said as he pulled is Aunts pail pink stationary out of the envelope.
“Don’t look so stunned Ron,” Hermione said putting down her papers, “she’s probably just worried.”
“Yup,” Harry said as he folded the letter back up, “its nice that they have taken an interest but I’d rather not get pink letters.”
“People will think they are from Ginny,” Ron chuckled but was shortly punched in the shoulder by his little sister.
“I heard that,” she said glaring at him, “I don’t have to send Harry love notes,” she added and winked across the table at him.
Harry grinned and turned red just as Professor Beck entered the great hall. In his arms he carried a stack of blank times table and quickly set to work handing them out.
“Its our NEWT’s year, are you ready for it?” Hermione asked nervously as she glanced around at the other students in their year.
“Yeah its going to be a piece of cake,” Ron said as he stretched lazily and pushed his plate away.
“How do you figure that?” Ginny asked, “if you don’t pass NEWTs mom will have your head.”
“You saw Dumbledore in the common room, he’ll help out Harry,” Ron said cheerfully.
“And you’ll ride along on coat tails?” Hermione asked angrily.
“Of course I will honey, how else have I been getting through school,” he laughed and grabbed Hermione and kissed her cheek.
“Ron, stop it!” Hermione cried, struggling to be rid of Ron, but giggling all the same.
“Oh come on, everyone knows we’re a couple,” Ron said tickling her now.
“Yeah but we don’t want to see you PDA!” Harry laughed as Ginny made a gagging noise behind Ron’s back.
Ron stopped fooling around as Professor Beck came nearer to them. Hermione stood up at one, straightened her hair just as he reached them.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir, I am Hermione Granger, seventh year, head girl,” she said.
“Ah yes, top of the class I see. It is good to meet you as well, Miss Granger. I look forward to having you in my class and my house,” Maxwell Beck smiled.
“Right, Professor McGonagall isn’t the head of Gryffindore anymore,” Ron said looking to Harry.
“No she is not,” Professor Beck smiled, “you must be Molly’s son,” he said and looked from Ron to Ginny, “and you must be the one and only Weasley daughter,” he said looking down at the stack of times tables, “I knew your parents well back in our days at Hogwarts,” he smiled and handed both Ron and Ginny their papers, “Miss. Weasley, you have first period with me, it will be delightful I promise,” he said.
“I am looking forward to it, sir,” Ginny smiled.
Maxwell Beck was a tall, handsome man, but very modest compared to other professors they had, had the privilege of encountering. He wore dark grey robes, that hung loosely over his broad shoulders, plain like those of Professor Snape’s, but his cufflinks were gold and he wore a red and gold ring on his wand hand. He carried himself well, strong looking, and confident but he didn’t seem to carry and of the tell tale signs that other dark arts professors had, had. He had deep brown, eyes that cast a stern but kind look to the students around him and his face was young and handsome, not like that of the warn out Alister Moody, whom seemed to have gone through wars. His voice was strong and predominant, it commanded attention, though for the most part he was very soft spoken, and seemed to observe more than command.
Ginny and Hermione seemed to admire their new professor has he continued in his work of handing out times tables to the rest of the Gryffindores around them.
“He’s going to be brilliant,” Hermione whispered to Ginny as she casually stuffed her times table into her bag.
“Oh yes,” Ginny beamed, “he reminds me of Dumbledore in a way,” she said looking to Harry.
Harry didn’t see it, he only saw the new guy that was young and probable very inexperienced when it came down to the dark arts, but then again he had been wrong before and Dumbledore had already said he was a brilliant Professor.
“And you must be Harry Potter,” Maxwell said as came back to them and stole a glance at Harry’s forehead, “we’ll be needing to have a meeting, you and I, about the Quiddich team. I played back in my day you know,” he said as he handed Ron his new times table and quickly busied himself with Harry’s
“Right,” Harry said not really paying attention to the new Professor. He was more occupied by the look on Ron’s face. He looked like he was choking and poisoned at the same time, his time table grasped tightly in his hands.
“Is something wrong Harry?” Professor Beck asked, noticing the concern in Harry’s face.
“Ron what’s wrong?”Harry asked, still not paying attention to Professor Beck
Ron shook his head and struggled to breath. He looked horror fulled at Harry.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked frantically, looking around the table, “was it something you ate?”
“No,” Ron gasped.
“What is it then?” Harry asked.
“Double Potions with Snape, right away this morning,” Ron said slamming his time table onto the table.
Hermione rolled her eyes, “don’t scare me like that,” she said angrily, “I thought you were poisoned.”
“I’d rather be poisoned then have double potions with Snape first thing Monday morning,” Ron said sulking a little now.
Harry’s heart dropped as he took his time table from Professor Beck. He knew he would have the same classed as Ron but the hope had been there until he laid eyes on his own parchment. There it was, blocked out in back writing, Double Potions.