Consequences of the Mind
8: Dumbledore's Return
By Mr. Intel
Chapter Eight — Dumbledore’s Return
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione arrived back at Hogwarts the evening before the new term was to start. It wasn’t until the following morning, however, that the entire school learned one very important bit of information: Dumbledore was back. Whatever story the students might have believed — be it that he was on a top secret Ministry assignment or imprisoned in St. Mungo’s for madness — that morning put everyone’s fears to rest.
"I apologize for my extended absence," he began as several students looked longingly at their empty plates. "However, it was not without its benefits."
Ginny stepped lightly on Harry’s foot under the table and smiled. He smiled back.
"Before I release you to the wonderful food you are accustomed to having and greatly need for the rigours of learning set before you, I would also like to announce a change in the end of year examination policy."
Everyone seemed to stir and the buzzing of excited whispers replaced the normal sounds of yawning and clinking silverware. Hermione seemed most distressed.
"Instead of the normal written exams for the first through fourth year and sixth year students, we will now be testing them in a more...practical manner. We will provide more details on the nature of these tests as the year progresses. Those in their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. years will still be expected to take those examinations and will therefore be exempt from the new tests." He paused and, with a sweep of his arms, food appeared on their plates. "Tuck in."
The Great Hall exploded in a sea of conversations. Hermione was staring at Dumbledore, who was now spooning some porridge into a bowl, as if she were questioning his sanity. Ginny was eating as if nothing at all was different and Ron had half a piece of toast in his mouth.
"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Something more practical?"
Ron swallowed noisily and leaned in towards Harry. "If you ask me, I think they’re going to rubbish the whole essay thing and focus on actual knowledge of spells and things. ‘Bout time, too."
Harry nodded and noticed that Hermione was still not fully focused on the conversation. "Could be; why do you think they’d do that? I mean, why change the way it’s been done for centuries?"
Suddenly, Hermione’s head whipped around and she opened her mouth to speak. "I’ll tell you what it means," she said, looking at Ginny knowingly. "It means that Dumbledore’s smarter than we’ve ever thought. It means that Dumbledore’s Army is a lot closer to the truth than even Fudge thinks."
"You don’t mean..." Ron began.
"That’s exactly what I mean," Hermione confirmed. "He’s going to focus on the practical use of spells and by so doing, have an entire army of students at his disposal."
Harry leaned back in his chair, his bacon untouched on his plate. "I don’t think the Slytherins are going to be so embracing of this idea, Hermione. Malfoy and his lot, especially."
"Don’t you remember what the Sorting Hat told us last year?" she asked with a raised brow.
"You mean that rubbish about inter-house cooperation?" Ron offered.
"Yes," Hermione countered. "And it’s not rubbish — it’s exactly what we’re going to need or Voldemort just might win."
Harry picked up a piece of bacon and chewed on it while he thought about the implications of playing nice with the Slytherins. Some really weren’t that bad, he reasoned. Others were just plain rotten.
"The trouble with Slytherins," Ginny added, as she spooned her own porridge, "is that you never know what side they’re really on until it’s too late."
Ron grunted. "Too right," he said.
But Harry shook his head. "I think Hermione, and the hat, are right. We’re going to need the Slytherins’ help and even if we have to include the ones that are junior Death Eaters, it’ll be a necessary risk."
The warning bell sounded for first class and Harry scrambled to finish his breakfast. Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek before slinging her overloaded bag onto her shoulders and marching into the river of students.
Trailing behind Ron and Hermione, Harry barely saw Professor Flitwick before he pounced on Ron.
"If I may have a word, Mr. Weasley."
The crush of bodies trying to exit the Hall before their classes began made it impossible to go anywhere, so Ron stayed put as realization dawned on his face. "Uh, oh," he muttered.
"Indeed," the tiny professor squeaked. "I certainly hope you have had a death in the family, for that is the only reason I can see for you not handing in the assigned essay on Enlargement Charms."
Hermione gasped at this. "You didn’t turn in your essay? Why not, Ron?"
His face beet red, Ron stammered and shuffled on his feet until he managed to say rather sheepishly, "I forgot."
"Well," Professor Flitwick continued. "Forgetting is going to cost you your grade for that assignment and a night’s detention. I’ll be contacting your head of house this afternoon to make arrangements. Good day."
As Flitwick left the Hall with surprising speed, Ron stood open-mouthed while Hermione pierced him with a hateful stare. "How could you? After all the help I gave you, and all the time we spent..." She seemed to fumble for words, as they both grew red-faced before she finally spat out, "not studying!"
"Look," Ron tried to placate, "I’m sorry, I just...."
"Oh, forget it, Ron. Look," Hermione said, re-adjusting her bag’s strap and letting out a weary breath, "let’s just move on."
Ron looked thunderstruck, yet hopeful. "Really? You...you mean it?"
"Of course, I mean it." They started walking again, and were almost the last ones out of the Hall when Hermione spun around and poked Ron in the chest. "But you do understand that there will be no more not studying sessions until after your essays are done, don’t you?"
Much to his credit, Ron nodded mutely and only smiled when Hermione’s back was turned and she was several paces ahead of them. He leaned in to whisper something when Harry backed away.
Harry held out his hands and shook his head. "I don’t want to know what the devil she’s talking about, all right, Ron? Keep the details of your private study sessions between the two of you and I won’t tell you what Ginny and I get up to. Deal?"
Ron’s ears perked up at this. "What d’ya mean what you and Ginny ‘get up to’?"
"Don’t ask the question, Ron, unless you’re ready to hear the answer," Harry said teasingly and walked faster to catch up with Hermione. He could hear Ron grumbling all the way to Care of Magical Creatures.
*
Later that evening, they met in the library to go over the runes that they’d found on the font at Maidencombe Beach. Hermione unrolled the original transcription and a longer, more tightly written one next to it that must have been the translation.
"So this," she said, pointing to the first rune, "means power. According to the same markings in the book Dumbledore gave me, it refers to a certain kind of ‘sustaining’ power that all the fonts are supposed to hold." She pointed back to the transcription. "These other runes refer to a castle, a village, and a lake."
"Does that mean there’s a font near one of these?" asked Ron, who was still staring at where Hermione was pointing.
"Actually, it will be in a place that has all three of these," she explained, now tracing her finger along a series of smaller runes that looked to Harry like something a two-year-old would scribble. "I already cross-referenced all the known castles in the U.K. with lakes and villages. Since just about every castle was built by a lake or river and most have villages or towns nearby, the list is pretty long." She produced a rolled parchment that was at least as long as their last Potions essay.
"Blimey," said Ron. "How are we supposed to check all of those?"
"We’re not," Hermione answered. "After I compiled the list, I realised that the font would have to be near someplace magical." She pointed her wand at the parchment and most of the names crossed themselves out and moved to the bottom of the list. "There’re only four castles that are associated with magical places."
Harry squinted his eyes and read the list. "Borthwick, Porchester, Leeds, and...."
"Hogwarts," Ginny finished.
"Borthwick," Hermione continued, "is near Edinburgh — a highly magical community — and is near Roseborough Reservoir, site of the ancient Roseborough Lake. It’s about ten miles from Edinburgh, however, so it’s probably not the one we’re looking for."
"How d’you reckon that?" Ron asked.
Hermione produced another book and flipped it open to a marked page. "Fonts have to be relatively close to a magical device or place to do any good. Every known font had someplace magical built nearby to use the magic they provided — even if no one living there had any idea of the font’s existence.
"Porchester and Leeds," Hermione continued, pushing the book on fonts aside and moving the list to the top of the stack, "are closer to their magical communities, but the lakes there are all man-made. That leaves us with only one," she finished, pointing to the name at the top of the list. "It makes perfect sense, really, as there has to be something here sustaining all the wards for so long. Only a font would be able to produce that amount of power over that length of time."
"The only question," Ginny offered, "it where do we start looking?"
Ron brightened up immediately. "I’ll look in the Slytherins’ rooms," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Even if we don’t find the font, there’s bound to be loads of illegal stuff there."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We’re not barging into anyone’s rooms, Ron. It’s highly unlikely that the font is inside the castle. Underneath maybe...."
Ginny shuddered beside Harry and he pressed his palm into her back. "No one’s going back into the Chamber of Secrets, if that’s what you’re implying," he said.
"No... not that," Hermione replied. "I suppose we’re going to have to do some more investigating before we look anywhere."
She scooped her books into a pile and began clearing off the table as Harry leaned back in his chair.
"Mister Weasley," came the prim voice of their head of house from behind Harry. "I’m here to arrange for your detention with Professor Flitwick."
Ron groaned and his head sank onto the table while Hermione clucked her tongue. "Serves you right," she muttered under her breath.
*
As Ron walked off to detention, Harry plopped himself down on a pillow in the front of the Room of Requirement. They had decided to resume their work on increasing Harry’s shield power and with Ron re-organising Flitwick’s entire collection of spellbooks, they knew this would be the perfect time.
Ginny was browsing a set of books that had appeared along one of the walls of the room and Hermione carefully arranged her notes and books on the floor next to Harry.
"Right," Hermione announced, selecting the same charred paper they had been using since their first botched attempt at merging two spells. "Let’s get on with these new equations."
After looking over the new wand movements on the parchment, Harry and Ginny faced each other from opposite ends of the room, their wands up in the classic duelling stance. He flicked his wrist and swung his arm around in the air as he said the incantation. There was a brief flutter of blue as the shield engaged, but it didn’t last against Ginny’s tickling jinx. The blue glow around Harry crackled and shattered, allowing the spell to hit Harry’s middle. He doubled over and let out a series of laughs that echoed off the high ceiling in the room. Ginny ran quickly over to him, cast the counter spell on him, and helped him back to his feet.
"Sorry," she said with a grimace. "Better than a boil hex, though."
Still breathing heavily, Harry waved her off. "Don’t... worry... about it," he managed. "Got to... practice with something."
Hermione was busy waving her wand over the parchment as Ginny rubbed Harry’s back. The door to the room opened and Professor McTierny entered.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t know the room was occupied. Is this a bad time?" he asked as he held the door open with one hand.
"No," Ginny answered. "We’re just practicing a new spell."
McTierny let the door close and walked towards them. "Anything I can help with? It looks like Harry’s gotten the worst of something."
"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Ginny’s almost as good as you are with her jinxes."
The professor paused for a second, presumably staring at him through his dark glasses. "So it’s a shield spell, then?"
Harry nodded. "I was kind of tired of you breaking through mine every class," he said wryly.
"Better that than getting caught with your trousers down, lad."
Harry snorted.
"So how is it that three students are attempting to create a new spell when it takes the Unspeakables months to do it?"
Hermione handed her parchment to McTierny. "Hmm," he said after a minute of reading. "That’s pretty good work, actually. I never would have thought to combine a power draining spell with Protego. That might actually work — if you don’t drain all of your magic before the spell reaches the activation level."
"Well, Professor," Hermione said brightly, as if she’d just been asked to give a lecture on spell crafting to the Unspeakables. "I thought about that. It’d be crazy to cast this spell without some kind of limiters on its ability to drain magic from the person casting it." She pointed to two equations midway down the page. "That’s why I inserted these here. The spell can only infuse a certain amount of magic into itself before it stops."
McTierny rubbed his chin and continued to consult the parchment. He jabbed the equations with his finger. "That’s your problem right there. The spell you’ve designed need a certain amount of energy to activate. But with these inhibitors, it can’t ever get there."
"But it did activate!" Hermione said excitedly. "We saw a blue glow around Harry when he said the incantation." Then more sheepishly, she said, "It just didn’t stop Ginny’s curse from hitting him."
Looking to Harry with a blank stare, Professor McTierny frowned every-so-slightly. "Is that so?" Pointing his wand at the parchment, McTierny erased the inhibitor equations and re-calculated the spell. "Try it again. Only this time, let me hex Harry."
The girls walked to the side of the room so they could see both Harry and McTierny. Harry began to perform the spell once more, slightly altering his wand movements to match those in the new diagram and the blue light crackled to life once more. This time, when McTierny’s spell hit the blue light, it rebounded and nearly hit the professor before he dodged away. As soon as Harry cancelled the shield, however, he felt the room lurch and spin. His knees hit the floor and he heard Ginny calling his name before everything went black.
*
January 10, 1997
Dear Mum,
Thanks for sending the extra unmentionables. Having to rotate between only two of each was driving me absolutely bonkers (not to mention what it was doing to Harry). I was thinking about going to Hogsmeade and just buying some more, but it seems that every time there’s a visit scheduled, I’ve got something going on with Harry. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but more on that later. Besides, I didn’t think we could swing the extra expenses. I hope you didn’t have to skimp on Ron’s food budget for the summer holidays, because I don’t want to give him another excuse to criticise my new developments. If I wasn’t going out with Harry, I think he’d go mad and hex every boy that even looked at me, but he knows that I’m ‘safe’ on the arm of the Boy-Who-Lived. Oh, but I’m getting back to Harry again, aren’t I?
O.W.L. year has been relatively quiet for me so far. There’s been more homework and the teachers are generally more cranky than normal, but it’s not anything like what Fred and George made it out to be. Of course, now that I’ve mentioned it, I’ll be doomed to piles of work next week that’ll take three years to complete.
Steph and Kate are on a mission to date Colin Creevey. Don’t ask me what they see in him, but heaven help us all if he actually chooses one of them. The loser will be so distraught I might have to perform a Cheering Charm on her every hour just to make it through.
Hermione found out what the runes mean — the ones we found on Christmas holiday. The font is at Hogwarts somewhere. Or at least, it’s near Hogwarts. The directions were fairly vague, and I’m certain that it was purposefully done that way. Ron’s going spare not being able to look for it and Harry seems torn between putting it off for as long as possible and getting the whole mess over with. With all that’s hanging over his head, it’s no wonder that he sometimes doesn’t know which direction to go in. I’m just glad I’m there to distract him from getting too caught up in the seriousness of life. And to be honest, he makes sure I’m sufficiently distracted, too.
Harry and I have come to an understanding about our relationship. We both know that we’re still young and relatively inexperienced in matters of the heart. Still, we have come so far in the past few months that I can hardly remember not being with him. It’s almost as if we’re two halves of one person. Before we got together last year, I would have slit my own wrists before giving anyone that kind of control over me, but this just feels so right that I would die if it ended. Oh, Mum. What am I going to do if something happens to Harry? I’m really scared that if for some reason Harry dies taking down that monster... if I can’t be with him ever again, that life wouldn’t be worth living.
After re-reading that last paragraph, I must seem awfully pathetic. Aren’t I pathetic? Don’t mind me, though; I just needed to get that on paper. I’m really glad you’re there for me to talk to.
The last thing I wanted to talk about was the spell that we’re working on with Harry — you know that one we talked about over Christmas break? We’ve finally made a breakthrough. Professor McTierny came into one of our testing sessions and helped Hermione adjust the equations. It seems that the spell required more power than it could take from any normal witch or wizard. When the restrictions were lifted, it worked so well that McTierny’s hex nearly hit him after it bounced off Harry’s shield. After Harry woke up from having most of his magic drained, we told him it worked and that the next time he cast it, he didn’t need to use so much magic to keep it running. Well, unless Bellatrix Lestrange was shooting Unforgiveables at him!
That’s everything that’s worth repeating. Give Dad a kiss for me.
All my love,
Ginny
*
That evening, Harry was under strict orders to get plenty of sleep. Not wanting to face the wrath of an overprotective hospital matron, but too excited at having finally found a way to block more powerful unfriendly spells, he found he couldn’t sleep at all. Ron still wasn’t back from his detention, Hermione and Ginny were downstairs writing letters to their families, and Harry was stuck with a mind full of possibilities.
All too soon, however, Harry’s body caught up with him and he was fast asleep.
He seemed to float out the window of his dormitory, down to the cold winter grass of the sweeping lawn in front of the castle. The lake was gleaming and winking in the moonlight. Without touching the ground, he was carried quickly through the gates of the school and down into the village. He was going so fast now that he couldn’t tell where he was exactly, but he didn’t think he’d left Hogsmeade. Soon, he was twisting and spinning and altogether confused. Then, a door appeared and he was thrust through it.
The smell of flat Butterbeer and stale peanuts assaulted his nose, but it was entirely too dark to see. He felt drawn to one particular door and stumbled over an unseen chair. The door loomed closer, though he could not detect it. Finally, his hand closed around a cold metal knob and it turned. The door creaked open and he was presented with a shining light that caused him to recoil; it drowned out everything else.
Squinting with watery eyes, Harry struggled to behold the source of the light. As his vision adjusted to the penetrating brightness, he was able to detect an object in the midst of the glorious glow. The object grew less blurred until an outline appeared. There were four persons holding a platter high above their heads out of which came golden water.
Harry’s eyes went wide and he struggled to see where he was. Was he still in Hogsmeade? Was he somewhere else entirely? Then, the force that took him there returned and he was moved back through the door and when it shut, he awoke.
Shrugging the sheets off his body, Harry pulled himself to his feet and immediately felt a wave of dizziness overtake him. He clung to his bedpost until the feeling retreated to a hazy buzz in the back of his head. He struggled with his dressing gown and took several shaky steps towards the stairs.
Ron was back and was sleepily staring at the fire while Hermione rubbed his feet. Ginny was already at the foot of the stairs, however. "Harry," she whispered. "You’re supposed to be asleep. I felt you wake up, but there was something wrong about it, so I came over."
Harry smirked. "Yeah, well, if you’d just had my dream, you’d be awake, too."
Ginny took his arm and put it around her neck, sliding her other arm around his waist. "Well, let’s get you downstairs so you can tell us all about it."
They arrived and Harry recounted his dream with all the detail he could remember.
"I’m sure it’s in Hogsmeade," Harry said. "The font’s there and it has to be at one of the pubs."
Ron stared tiredly at his friend and Hermione frowned. "But you said you weren’t sure you didn’t leave Hogsmeade," she said. "You could have been anywhere."
"I know what I said," Harry said, a little peevishly, feeling like they were tantalisingly close to getting to the font and beating Voldemort before he had a chance to find it. "What I’m saying now, is that I know I was still in Hogsmeade and that the font is at one of the pubs."
"Listen," Hermione said warily. "We can’t just tear off into the village in the middle of the night, without telling the teachers, and you know what they’ll say. Besides, you don’t know which pub it’s in, and frankly, I don’t think Madam Rosmerta would appreciate us breaking into the Three Broomsticks to look for something you saw in a dream."
"We’re wasting time," Harry said and made to stand. Ginny’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, however, and in his weakened condition, made it impossible for him to get up. He glared at her, but she simply stared right back at him, the challenge was clear.
Ron cleared his throat, all traces of his earlier weariness wiped from his face. "What if... you know... the dreams came from... him."
Harry balled his fists. "I don’t have those dreams anymore, Ron. Dumbledore fixed that for me," he said pointing to his head. "Remember?"
"Yeah," Ron answered, and sat forward in his chair. "But you should still be careful. You’ve kind of had a bad track record with dreams...."
Ron’s right, Ginny said in his mind. Listen to Hermione and Ron, even if it means we wait until tomorrow. He turned to see her staring at him, a sad smile on her face. You’re in no condition to go haring off anywhere tonight, and I’m more than capable of hexing you if you try it.
Ron and Hermione were looking at him, as if they knew Ginny was speaking to him. Under their combined scrutiny, Harry relented. "Fine," he said and relaxed on the sofa he was sharing with Ginny. "But first chance we get, we’re going to the village to find out where this thing is."
Obviously relieved, his three friends sat back in their chairs and let out a combined breath. "I can live with that," Hermione said and promptly scooped up her books. "See you tomorrow."
Ron looked after her longingly and stood as well. "So much for that foot rub," he grumbled and walked towards the stairs.
Closing his eyes, Harry felt the tiredness return full force. Ginny’s hand was in his hair and he felt himself drifting. When he awoke in his bed the next morning he realised he had no idea know how he’d got there.