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  {
    "chapter_number": 113,
    "chapter_title": "The\nfollowing was posted at the end of Chapter 113:",
    "content": "This is your final exam.\nYou have 60 hours.\nYour solution must at least allow Harry to evade immediate death,\ndespite being naked, holding only his wand, facing 36 Death Eaters plus\nthe fully resurrected Lord Voldemort.\nIf a viable solution is posted before12:01 a.m. Pacific\nTime(8:01 a.m. UTC) on Tuesday, March 3rd, 2015, the story will\ncontinue to Ch. 121.\nOtherwise you will get a shorter and sadder\nending.\nKeep in mind the following:\nHarry must succeed via his own efforts. The cavalry is not\ncoming. Everyone who might want to help Harry thinks he is at a\nQuidditch game.Harry may only use capabilities the story has already shown him\nto have; he cannot develop wordless wandless Legilimency in the next 60\nseconds.Voldemort is evil and cannot be persuaded to be good; the Dark\nLord’s utility function cannot be changed by talking to him.If Harry raises his wand or speaks in anything except\nParseltongue, the Death Eaters will fire on him immediately.If the simplest timeline is otherwise one where Harry dies—if\nHarry cannot reach his Time-Turner without Time-Turned help—then the\nTime-Turner will not come into play.It is impossible to tell lies in Parseltongue.\nWithin these constraints, Harry is allowed to attain his full\npotential as a rationalist, now in this moment or never, regardless of\nhis previous flaws.\nOf course ‘the rational solution’, if you are using the word\n‘rational’ correctly, is just a needlessly fancy way of saying ‘the best\nsolution’ or ‘the solution I like’ or ‘the solution I think we should\nuse’, and you should usually say one of the latter instead. (We only\nneed the word ‘rational’ to talk about ways of thinking, considered\napart from any particular solutions.)\nAnd by Vinge’s Principle, if you know exactly what a smart mind would\ndo, you must be at least that smart yourself. Asking someone “What would\nan optimal player think is the best move?” should produce answers no\nbetter than “What do you think is best?”\nSo what I mean in practice, when I say Harry is allowed to attain his\nfull potential as a rationalist, is that Harry is allowed to solve this\nproblem the wayyouwould solve it. If you can tell me exactly\nhow to do something, Harry is allowed to think of it.\nBut it does not serve as a solution to say, for example, “Harry\nshould persuade Voldemort to let him out of the box” if you can’t\nyourself figure out how.\nThe rules on Fanfiction dot Net allow at most one review per\nchapter. Please submitonly onereview of Ch. 113, to submit\none suggested solution.\nFor the best experience, if you have not already been following\nInternet conversations about recent chapters, I suggestnotdoing so, trying to complete this exam on your own,\nnot looking at other reviews, and waiting for Ch. 114 to see how you\ndid.\nI wish you all the best of luck, or rather the best of skill.\nCh. 114 will post at10 a.m. Pacific (6 p.m. UTC) on Tuesday,\nMarch 3rd, 2015.\nADDED:\nIf you have pending exams, then even though the bystander effect is a\nthing, I expect that the collective effect of ‘everyone with more urgent\nlife issues stays out of the effort’ shifts the probabilities very\nlittle (because diminishing marginal returns on more eyes and an\nalready-huge population that is participating).\nSo if you can’t take the time, then please don’t.Like any author, I enjoy the delicious taste of my readers’ suffering,\nfiner than any chocolate; but I don’t want tohurtyou.\nLikewise, if you hate hate hate this sort of thing, then don’t\nparticipate! Other people ARE enjoying it. Just come back in a few days.\nI shouldn’t even need to point this out.\nI remind you again that you have hours to think. Use the Hold Off On\nProposing Solutions, Luke.\nAnd really truly, I do mean it, Harry cannot develop any new magical\npowers or transcend previously stated constraints on them in the next\nsixty seconds.\nUnsurprisingly, this led to a lot of reader submissions. An awful\nlot.\nYou can see the fallouton\nthe /r/HPMOR subreddit. If you’re reading this somewhere that the\nprevious text isn’t a link, you can go tohttp://www.reddit.com/r/HPMORand search for “Help! My\nevil plan has worked all too well!”\n115. Shut Up and Do The\nImpossible, Part I\nThegibbous moon riding higher in the cloudless sky, the stars and wash of\nthe Milky Way visible in all their majesty within the darkness, all\nthese shone down upon the graveyard to bear witness from their\nunimaginable distances.\nIn the instant when Harry had realised there was no way at all left\nto save everyone, his mind’s voices had fallen away, become one, a\nsingle purpose taking up every fraction of his mind.\nFifty seconds.\nForty seconds.\nHarry’s eyes tracked slowly across the air, until his gaze landed on\nthe first Death Eater, the one closest to him.\nThirty seconds?\nTwenty seconds?\n“Time’ss almosst up—” hissed\nVoldemort.\n“I do know ssecretss you would like to\nknow,” Harry hissed. He didn’t look directly at the Dark Lord as\nhe spoke. “But mosst valuable knowledge to\nyou, I think, would be my ideass ass to how world might be desstroyed.\nYet, to tell you ssuch thoughtss might lead to desstruction of world. Do\nnot know prophecy, but if there iss prophecy, that makess it more than\nussually probable that any action I take might have that effect. Or to\ntell you ssuch might prevent desstruction of world, ssince you do sseem\nmotivated to avoid it. Not allowed to make ssuch a decission mysself.\nWould need to awaken and conssult girl-child friend. Vow\nrequiress.”\nThere was a long pause. The Dark Lord, floating above and behind the\ncurve of Death Eaters with levelled wands, began to laugh as Salazar\nSlytherin had thought a snake would laugh, cold amusement in the form of\na hiss. “Do you know how to desstroy world,\nthen?”\n“Cannot deliberately try to imagine\nmethod. You might have way for sservant to ssteal my thoughtss. Vow\nprohibitss. But ssusspect I could devisse method, if girl-child ssaid to\ntry.”\nHarry’s eyes drifted slowly to another Death Eater, and another.\nMore snakish laughter. “Clever. You have\nmy complimentss for thinking of ssuch tacticss. But no.”\n“Know it iss annoying, but with world and\nyour eternity at sstake, would you not—”\n“Greater rissk to world in introducing\nssuch complicationss, delaying your end. I will sstudy Muggle ssciencess\nmysself, think of all you might imagine. Now sspeak ssuch ssecretss ass\nyou may tell me, or thiss endss.”\nSlowly Harry’s vision tracked across the graveyard in careful arcs,\nignoring the Dark Lord except as a floating blackness in his peripheral\nvision. His mouth went on speaking with only half his attention. “Have thought of idea you might not have\nconssidered, teacher. Your attempt to kill me might fail in certain\nsspecific way desspite all your precautionss, perhapss lead into my\ndesstroying world later. Would not ordinarily deem probable, but with\nprophecy at hand, may well be sso.”\nVoldemort went still, in the air. “How?”\n“Am not obliged to tell you.”\nA cold anger began to seethe through the snakish reply. “Though I undersstand well your dessperation and\nattempted clevernesss, thiss beginss to annoy me. I will not withhold\nfrom killing you, for that iss sstill greater rissk. To fail to tell me\nyour thought risskss desstroying world. Sspeak!”\n“No. Vow doess not oblige me to any\npossitive action.”\nThe Dark Lord stared down at Harry Potter, who glanced up at the\nangry face only briefly before his eyes went back to the next Death\nEater. Some of them were shifting their stances slightly, but they stood\nstill, and said no words as they levelled their wands. The silver skull\nmasks could not be read.\nThen the Dark Lord began to chuckle again. “Ssurvive your death, you think you might? No,\nchild, my horcruxsess are not linked to you alsso. I would know if they\nwere. Or iss there other reasson you think you might ssurvive beyond my\nwayss of enssuring your death?”\nHarry didn’t allow himself to be distracted. The repeated failures\ndidn’t matter, they only led into the next action in the chain—but hestill needed a next action—\n“Now sspeak a ssecret,” the Dark\nLord hissed, “or I—”\n“Life-eaterss will purssue you alwayss,\nhate you alwayss, sseek you out wherever you go, if what I have jusst\ndone wass ssuccesssful, I have caussed them to be sset upon you!\nGuardian Charm ssecret will be beyond you for long time to come,\nperhapss forever! Besst defence againsst life-eaterss would die with\nme!”\n“Thiss iss sstarting to become\nssad…” the Dark Lord’s voice trailed off. “Ah. I ssee. Life-eaterss resspond to\nexspectationss. You tell me I will be hunted, I exspect to be hunted,\nthey hunt me. Ssuch iss rare, but not unheard-of. Valuable ssecret,\nyess. Can ssee many ussess.” A cruel smile. “I sshall allow you to sselect one persson to be\nssaved.”\n“Mysself.”\n“Would tell you to die with dignity, but\nknowing mysself, I know it for futility. You have wassted my kindly gift\njusst then by annoying me, and I retract it. Any other\nssecretss?”\n“Yess. Really interessting oness, too.\nSsome you are unlikely to figure out on your own, not for very long time\nif ever. If I ssay I have told you all that do not rissk world, will you\nnot torment any of my friendss or family? All of thiss sspeech sstarted\nbecausse you left me no way at all to ssave everyone.”\nThe Dark Lord stood still in the air for a long moment.\nAnd Harry’s eyes went on tracking slowly across the graveyard, as his\nhand remained tight upon his wand.\nIn the instant when Harry had realized there was no way left to save\neveryone—\nHe couldn’t speak any incantation in English. But Transfiguration was\nwordless.\nThere was no material in contact with his wand’s end except air,\nwhich couldn’t be Transfigured. But Voldemort didn’t know about partial\nTransfiguration, which Harry could use to Transfigure a tiny bit of the\nmaterial from his wand itself.\n“You’re sstalling,” the Dark Lord\nsaid. “Jusst to delay death? Or with other\npurposse?”\nHarry said nothing, his other work slowing as his mind sought a\ncontinuation of the conversation that would work even against the Dark\nLord’s will—\n“Sspeak and tell me purposse, or thiss\nendss now and your friendss ssuffer for lifetimess!”\n“Lower Muggle weapon and do not point\nwand in my direction,” Harry hissed, putting as much cold danger\nas he could into the snake’s voice. “Sspeak\nno commandss to sservantss. I do posssesss capabilitiess of which you\nare ignorant. Can usse one ssuch capacity to causse huge exsplossion\nalmosst insstantly, without sspeaking incantation. Sslay your new body,\nall sservantss, Sstone sscattered to who knowss where.”\nAt his current level of practice Harry could Transfigure one cubic\nmillimetre as fast as he could apply his will and magic.\nOne cubic millimetre of antimatter.\nIt wasn’t a world-ending threat.\nVoldemort could have been carved from stone. “You bluff, ssomehow.”\n“Not bluffing. Sspeaking in ssnaketalk, I\ntell you, I can do it almosst insstantly, before any sspell can be casst\nat me, I think. You know very little of sscience ass yet. Power I would\ncommand iss sstronger than processs that fuelss sstarss.”\n“Vow will sstop you,” hissed\nVoldemort. “You cannot rissk world. Take no\nrisskss, none, with clever ideass!”\n“Would not rissk world. I esstimated\nssizze of exsplossion, nowhere near that large.”\n“You do not know, fool! Cannot be\nssure!” Voldemort’s hiss was climbing higher.\n“I am reassonably certain. Vow will not\nsstop me.”\nThere was an increasing fury in Voldemort’s expression, and yet his\nhiss carried a tinge of fear. “I sshall\nwreak pain beyond imagining on all you care for—”\n“Sshut up. I dissregard all ssuch\nthreatss now, ass theory of gamess ssayss I sshould. Only reasson you\nmake threatss iss that you exspect me to resspond.” That, too,\nHarry had truly understood in the last extremity. “Offer me ssomething I want, teacher. For your new\nbody, for your continued holding of Sstone, for livess of your\nsservantss.”\nHarry’s mouth was running on automatic, his real attention\nelsewhere.\nBeneath the moonlight glints a tiny fragment of silver, a\nfraction of a line…\nFrom a tiny spot on the end of Harry’s wand, a cubic millimetre of\nanchor, stretched out a thin line of Transfigured spider-silk. It would\nhave broken at once, if tested; it would have gone unremarked, if any\nhad noticed its glint. Less than a tenth of a millimetre in\ncross-section, the tiny shape represented by the extended line of\nspider-silk was something Harry could Transfigure swiftly, ten\ncentimetres of length to a cubic millimetre of total volume; and Harry\ncould Transfigure a cubic millimetre in a fraction of a second. He was\nforcing the Transfiguration outward, extending it through the air as\nfast as he could without risking the transformation.\nThe tracing line of spider-silk looped around a Death Eater’s hood at\nneck level, returned to the pattern of threads.\nVoldemort’s face was now impassive. “You\nmusst not leave here alive. Ssenssible people called good would alsso\nagree, thiss I tell you in ssnake’ss sspeech. But all your friendss I\nwill treat kindly and protect under my reign, if you agree to die now\nass good persson sshould.”\nThe last Death Eater was looped. The pattern of spider-silk was\ncomplete. The web had been drawn with loops around all the Death Eater’s\nnecks. The ends of those loops had been anchored to a central circle;\nand that central circle in turn had three threads stretching across its\ncentre. The entire pattern still touching the anchor-line stretching out\nof Harry’s wand.\nOver the next seconds, those near-invisible threads of reflected\nmoonlight turned black.\nFilaments narrower, stronger, and sharper than steel wire; braided\ncarbon nanotubes, each individual tube all a single molecule.\nHarry hissed, “Want you to alsso promisse\nto treat nationss kindly under your rule. Will not accept\nlesss.”\nVoldemort hovered still in the air, snake-face showing a dawning\nfury.\nThe last two threads stretched out from the dark pattern, black\nthreads already in the form of nanotubes. They moved lightly through the\nair toward the Dark Lord himself, toward the sleeve just above\nVoldemort’s left hand that held the gun, toward the sleeve above the\nright hand that held the yew wand, threads placed high at first to give\nthem time to drift slowly downward through the air. The threads looped\naround, went over themselves, tied slippable knots. Began to tighten,\ncoming closer to the sleeve, as Harry Transfigured them shorter—\nHarry felt the tickle of Voldemort’s power beginning to touch his own\nin the back of his mind; at the same time the Dark Lord’s eyes widened,\nhis mouth opened.\nAnd Harry Transfigured the black threads stretching across the black\npattern’s centre to a quarter their previous size, shrinking the circle,\nyanking hard on everything attached, tightening loops.\n(Black robes, falling.)\nHarry wasn’t looking there, he didn’t see the falling masks, the\nblood, in the back of his mind he felt some explosions of magic like\nhe’d felt when Hermione died but he ignored them, Harry’s eyes only saw\nthe Dark Lord’s hands and wand and gun dropping downward, and then\nHarry’s wand was rising, pointing—\nHarry screamed, “STUPORFY!”\nThe red bolt the colour of the Stunning Hex winged toward Voldemort,\nblazing across the graveyard almost faster than the eye could see.\nWithout any hesitation despite his wounds the Dark Lord jerked down\nand right through the air.\nAnd the red bolt from Professor Flitwick’s secret Swerving Stunner\nturned in mid-air and slammed into Voldemort.\nThe pain that flashed through Harry’s scar was searing, it made him\ncry out and a red haze appear across his vision; despite everything,\nHarry dropped his wand in pain and sheer fatigue.\nAs Harry let go of his wand, the pain began to clear—\n116. Shut Up and Do The\nImpossible, Part II\nSomethinglike a fugue state had come over\nHarry’s mind. The absolute state had partially worn off him, partially\nstayed with him. Elements of his mind were numb, maybe deliberately\nnumbed by some part that was smart enough to predict what would happen\notherwise. What he’d just done—\nThe thought was shut off, making space for an awareness of other\nthings.\nHarry was standing in the middle of a haphazard graveyard, tombstones\nscattered without order.\nBy moonlight and starlight, it could be seen that black robes\nlittered the ground, surrounded by textures that didn’t match the\nsurrounding graveyard earth, wetness tinged red in the moonlight. Some\nheads had come loose from the surrounding hoods of the robes, revealing\nhair that was long or short, dark or bright, which was all that could be\nseen beneath the moon. The silver masks stayed on, making all the hair\noriginate in skulls instead of human faces—\nThe thought was shut off, making space for awareness of other\nthings.\nA girl in a red-trimmed Hogwarts uniform slept upon an altar. Near\nthe altar, Harry’s things lay in a heap.\nUpon the ground lay a too-tall pale man of inhuman face, blood\npouring from the stumps of his wrists.\nAs soon as the Dark Lord Voldemort awakens, he will destroy\neverything you love. Dumbledore is no longer there to stop him.\nHe cannot be imprisoned, for he can abandon his body at any\ntime.\nHe cannot be killed permanently, not without destroying more than\na hundred horcruxes, one of which is the Pioneer plaque.\nMaterials: One wand, you are allowed to point it and speak this\ntime.\nYou have five minutes.\nSolve.\nHarry stumbled toward the altar, knelt at its side, and picked up his\npouch.\nHe walked toward where Voldemort lay.\nThe sense of apprehension had diminished, after Voldemort had been\nhexed unconscious. Now, as Harry approached, it rose to a terrifying\nheight, flaring also into pain in his scar.\nHarry ignored the inner shriek. That had been the last memory of Tom\nRiddle seared into Harry’s brain, the last cognitive pattern to be\ntransferred over into the infant baby before Tom Riddle had exploded: a\nsense of mounting horror and dismay associated with the resonance that\nhad spun out of control. Harry knew the meaning of it now, that sense of\napprehension, and that made it easier to disregard. He’d guessed that\nthe effect of the resonance mostly hit the caster, with power\nproportional to the caster’s power, and the bet had paid off.\nHarry looked upon Voldemort’s body, and breathed deeply—through his\nmouth, because coppery smells Harry was not thinking about were coming\nin through his nose.\nHarry knelt by Voldemort’s side, took out his medical kit from his\npouch, and placed a self-tightening tourniquet around the body’s left\nwrist, then another tourniquet about the right.\nIt feltwrong, showing Voldemort that concern. Some part of\nHarry was aware, in the back of his mind, that some number of people had\njust had something extremely bad happen to them. What would have been\nbalance, what would have been justice, was if Voldemort had suffered the\nsame fate without an instant’s more hesitation. What Harry was doing now\nfelt like Batman showing more concern for the Joker than for the Joker’s\nvictims; it felt like a comic book where the writers wrung their hands\nendlessly about the morality of killing the Big Named Villains while\ninnocents went on dying in the background. To show more solicitousness\nfor the head villain than his minions, to paymore attentionto\nhis fate than the fates of his lower-status followers, was a flaw in\nhuman nature.\nSo it felt wrong when Harry rose up from beside the body, the\ntourniquets having tightened upon Voldemort’s wrists; it felt like Harry\nwas doing something ethically monstrous.\nEven though any sane strategic thinking said that Voldemort’s bodymust notdie. The soul he’d created for himself had to be\nanchored in this brain, it mustn’t be allowed to float free.\nHarry stepped back, back from Voldemort’s unconscious body, breathing\ndeeply through his mouth. He went to the pile of his things, to put on\nhis robes and other items, starting with placing the Time-Turner around\nhis throat once more, readying his own escape and return if that was\nrequired…\nMore than a hundred horcruxes.\nThat had been insane, there wasn’t any other word for it, a sign of\nVoldemort’s damaged thinking about death. A Muggle security expert would\nhave called it fence-post security, like building a fence-post over a\nhundred metres high in the middle of the desert. Only a very obliging\nattacker would try to climb the fence-post. Anyone sensible would just\nwalk around the fence-post, and making the fence-post even higher\nwouldn’t stop that.\nOnce you forgot to be scared of how impossible the problem was\nsupposed to be, it wasn’t even difficult, not by comparison to the last\none.\nNeville’s parents, for example, had been Crucioed into permanent\ninsanity. Two hundred advanced horcruxes wouldn’t prevent that insanity,\nthey would all just echo the same damaged mind.\nIt would be an ethically justified use of the Cruciatus Curse, if\nthat were the only way to stop Voldemort permanently. It would be\njustice, balance, it would show that the Joker’s life wasn’t worth more\nthan his meanest henchman…\nAll Harry needed to do was cast the Patronus Charm, send it\nto… Alastor Moody? …and tell him to come here. Well, no, it was a pretty\ngood guess the Patronus Charm wouldn’t work if it was cast withthatintent. Maybe just resolve to tell Moody that, and use his\nTime-Turner once he was out of range of Voldemort’s wards.\nAnd then Voldemort could be Crucioed into permanent insanity.\nIt wasn’t even the least merciful fate. That would have been throwing\nVoldemort’s wand into the pit at Azkaban, if the wand stayed connected\nto Voldemort’s life and magic no matter where his ghost tried to\nflee.\nHarry turned to face where Voldemort lay. He walked forward, and\ncontinued to control his breathing, ignoring the burning feeling in his\nthroat. Some part of him knew that Voldemort wasalsoProfessor\nQuirrell, even though his body now was different. Even though the shift\nof personality had been perfect and that meant that Professor Quirrell\nhad been just another mask…\nThough Voldemort hadn’t planned to kill Harry painfully. Hadn’t\nthought to strike Harry with his followers’ Cruciatus, when Harry was\nbeing annoying before. That meant something, when your opponent was\nVoldemort. Maybe he’d had some remaining shred of fellow-feeling for the\nother Tom Riddle after all.\n…it would be wrong to take that into account.\nWouldn’t it?\nHarry looked back up at the stars. Here below the atmosphere the\nstars twinkled, they were embedded in the false dome of the night sky,\nstretched out across the wash of the Milky Way that glowed like a long\nribbon, as if they were all close enough that you could fly up to them\non a broomstick and touch them.\nWhat would they want him to do now at this juncture, the children’s\nchildren’s children?\nThe answer to that also felt obvious, if it wasn’t just the part of\nHarry that still cared about Professor Quirrell doing the real\ntalking.\nHarry had needed to do the thing he’d done, ithadprevented\ngreater evils, Harry couldn’t have stopped Voldemort if the Death Eaters\nhad fired first. But that thing Harry had done wasn’t something that\ncould be balanced by an unnecessary tragedy happening to one more\nsentient being, even if that being was Voldemort. It would just be one\nmore element of the sorrows of ancient Earth so long ago.\nThe past was past. You did what you had to do, and you didn’t do one\nscrap of harm more than that. Not even to balance things out, and make\nit all symmetrical.\nThe children’s children’s children wouldn’t want Voldemort to die,\neven if his minions had. They wouldn’t want Voldemort to hurt, if it\ndidn’t accomplish anything compared to him not hurting.\nHarry breathed deeply, and let go of—not his hate—not quite his\nhate—he hadn’t been able to hate his creator even at the very end—but\neven so, Harry let go ofsomething. Of the sense that heoughtto hate Voldemort, that it was a hate he was obliged to\nfeel, for the endless list of crimes that Voldemort had committed for no\ngood reason, not even his own happiness…\nIt’s all right,the stars whispered down at him.It’s\nall right not to hate him. It doesn’t make you a bad person.\nIn the end, there was only one option he would take, and since Harry\nalready knew that, there was no point agonizing about it. Whether it was\nthe best option, only time would tell.\nHarry breathed deeply, building up the magic inside himself. The\nspell he was going to cast didn’t need to beprecise, but it\nwas still one of the most powerful spells he’d mastered.\nHarry thought again of how unjust it was that Voldemort could not die\nwith his followers, felt the slight trace of coldness in his blood that\ncame with thoughts of ruthlessness. And then Harry let it go, let it all\ndrain away beneath the starlight, because his dark side had never been\nanything except an inherited pattern of cognition, just one more bad\nhabit of thinking to break.\nInstead Harry looked at Hermione’s breathing form atop the altar, and\nlet the tears finally start from his eyes. What would become of Hermione\nnow, what path she would choose after this, Harry couldn’t guess; but\nshe would bethereto have a choice, their friendship wouldn’t\nhave destroyed her existence. He hadn’t realised how shaky his hope had\nbeen, until he’d noticed how surprised he’d been after the hope had come\ntrue. Sometimes things did go better than expected.\nAnd Harry took that thought, too, and put it into the magic he was\nbuilding.\nThe power he was storing up was vibrating in him, like his whole body\nwas part of his wand, either Harry’s eyes were blurring or there was a\nluminous white quiver running over the holly. And Harry thought the\nshape of the spell he would cast, he didn’t have much fine control but\nthe pattern he needed was simple, it just needed to include—\nEverything, forget everything, Tom Riddle, Professor Quirrell,\nforget your whole life, forget your entire episodic memory, forget the\ndisappointment and the bitterness and the wrong decisions, forget\nVoldemort—\nAnd at the last moment before Harry cast the spell, he had one final\nthought, a note of grace—\nBut if you ever had any truly happy memories, not hurting people\nor laughing at their pain, but the warm feeling of helping someone or\nbeing helped, there won’t be many, maybe just when you were a child, but\nif you had any truly happy memories then keep only those—\nSomething bright in him unfolded at the decision, knowing he’d made\nthe right choice, and Harry pushed that too into his wand—\n“Obliviate!”\nAnd it all poured out of Harry into the spell.\nHarry fell over on his side, dropping his wand, strangled screams\ncoming from his throat, his hands going helplessly to his scar, even as\nthe sudden blast of pain in his head began to fade. Only dimly did his\neyes see that the air was filled with glowing snowflakes, drifting motes\nof silver light like tiny specks of Patronus Charm.\nOnly a moment the silver light lasted, and then it was gone.\nProfessor Quirrell was gone.\nNothing left but a remnant.\nAnd that spirit, what remained of it, wouldn’t be so different now\nfrom Harry’s own.\nThe Prophecy was complete.\nThey had each remade the other in their own image.\nHarry started sobbing, then, from where he was curled up in the\ndirt.\nHe cried for a while.\nAnd then eventually Harry staggered to his feet and picked up his\nwand again, because this day’s work wasn’t quite done.\nHarry laid his wand directly on Voldemort’s wrist-stump; it made his\nscar throb with an ongoing pain, but neither of them exploded.\nAnd Harry began a Transfiguration.\nSlowly—though faster than Harry had been able to Transfigure\nHermione’s body, last time—the stunned form of the snake-man changed,\nreshaped itself. As the Transfiguration progressed, especially as the\nsnake-man’s head began to turn glassy and shrunken, the pain in Harry’s\nscar faded.\nIt would be a spell to maintain whether Harry was waking or sleeping;\nand later, when Harry was older and more powerful and maybe had some\nhelp, he would un-Transfigure the mind-wiped Tom Riddle and heal his\nbody with the power of the Stone.Afterfuture-Harry had\nfigured out what to do with an almost-completely-amnesiac wizard who\nstill had some bad habits of thought and some highly negative emotional\npatterns—a dark side, as ’twere—plus a great deal of declarative and\nprocedural knowledge about powerful magic. Harry had tried his bestnotto Obliviate that part, because he might need it, some\nday.\nAnd meanwhile, just like magic hadn’t defined a Transfigured unicorn\nas dead for purposes of setting off wards, Voldemort’s horcruxes\nwouldn’t define a Transfigured Voldemort as dead and try to bring him\nback.\nThat was the hope, anyway.\nHarry’s scar twinged one last time when the steel ring went on his\npinky finger, holding the tiny green emerald in contact with his skin.\nThen his scar subsided, and did not hurt again.\nAn upthrust rock served Harry for a chair, when he staggered over it\nand sat down motionless, resting after a fashion, shoving back the\nexhaustion that threatened the corners of his mind.It was not done,\nthere was more to do.\nHarry took another deep breath, still inhaling through his mouth,\nsaid “Lumos,” and looked around the graveyard.\nBlack robes and severed skull masks, surrounded by pools of\nblood—\nHermione Granger, asleep on an altar.\nVoldemort’s empty robes and bloody hands, lying where the Dark Lord\nhad fallen.\nQuirinus Quirrell with his shredded robes, fallen in a heap where the\nKilling Curse had stricken him.\nHarry imagined someone else looking at this scene, trying to\nunderstand it, and shook his head, because that wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t\ndo at all.\nThen Harry shoved himself up from his rock, grimacing as his mind, if\nnot body, protested. He hadn’t been bloodied or beaten much today, but\nsomehow Harry’s body was managing to feel like all the stress had hit it\ndirectly.\nHarry staggered over toward where Voldemort had fallen, and picked up\nVoldemort’s left hand from where it lay upon the ground.\nEven in just the left hand, you could see the faint trace of snake’s\nscales; it was very distinctively Voldemort. That was good.\nHarry went to the altar where the sleeping Hermione lay, and gently\nplaced the detached hand around Hermione’s neck, carefully moving the\nfingers to clutch at her throat. It was hard to do, Hermione seemed so\npeaceful and innocent when she was sleeping, and Voldemort’s severed\nhand seemed so ugly; Harry bluntly overrode whatever part of his mind\nwas thinking that, since it made no sense in context.\nA few weak Severing Charms served to mess up the almost perfectly\nfine cut the nanofibre had made, which was critical; it would not do to\nhave the hand-stump look like the neck-stumps. The multipleDiffindosscattered small bits of Voldemort-wrist all over\nHermione’s shirt, which, Harry had to remind himself, was also part of\nthe plan.\nHarry repeated this with the right hand, arranging it symmetrically\nwith the left.\nHarry usedInflammareto singe Voldemort’s robes where they\nlay, and then arranged the singed clothing around Hermione.\nVoldemort’s gun, and his wand, went into Harry’s pouch. Harry placed\nthe Stone of Permanency in an ordinary pocket, he wasn’t sure what the\nStone might do to his pouch.\nThe heap of things from inside Quirrell’s robe, also near the altar,\nyielded the wand that the Defence Professor had used when he was being\nQuirrell. Harry went to where Quirrell lay, and straightened out the\nbody as best he could, and put Quirrell’s wand into his hand. Tears\npredictably came to Harry’s eyes, and Harry wiped them away on his\nsleeve.\nHarry took another deep breath, still inhaling through his mouth,\nsaid “Lumos” again, and once more looked around the\ngraveyard.\nBlack robes, severed skull masks, and Hermione Granger lying on an\naltar with Voldemort’s severed hands clutched around her throat, and\nVoldemort’s singed clothing scattered around her. Quirinus Quirrell lay\ndead with his clothes torn and shredded, his wand in his right hand.\nThat would do.\nThere remained the problem of calling attention to it.\nHarry was very nearly out of magic at this point. But he still had\nenough left to Transfigure a leaf into the deflated form of a\nthree-metre weather balloon.\nHarry’s pouch produced a bottle of oxyacetylene, and a stick of\ndynamite, and a spool of fuse-cord.Be prepared, that’s the Boy\nScout’s marching song, be prepared for a life that includes mountain\ntrolls and who knows what else…\nHarry inflated the weather balloon with the oxyacetylene. That would\nproduce a very sharp overpressure when it detonated, maybe as loud as a\nsonic boom.\nHe attached the stick of dynamite—it was overkill, for detonation,\nbut it would do.\nHe attached a 60-second fuse to the stick of dynamite, but did not\nlight it yet.\nHarry put on his Cloak of Invisibility, that had been among the piles\nby the sacrificial altar.\nHe obtained his broomstick from his pouch, and mounted it.\nHarry cast a Quieting Charm around Hermione Granger—it wouldn’t stopallthe noise, not even close, and it wasn’t like she’d be\npermanently hurt if her eardrums burst, but it still seemed polite.\nAnd then that was it. The Quieting Charm had done it. Harry was\ndrained of magic for at least the next hour.\nHarry mounted the broomstick, slowly rising into the air, lifting the\nweather balloon filled with oxyacetylene with him. The castle Hogwarts\ncame into view, distantly gleaming in moonlight a few kilometres away,\nas Harry rose above the trees; and Harry did his best to figure the\ndistance, and the angle as it would be seen from Hogwarts.\nWhen he had risen high above the forest, Harry used a lighter to\nignite the fuse on the dynamite attached to the weather balloon full of\noxyacetylene. Then Harry spun the broomstick and darted away—though not\ndirectly toward the castle, that might take him too close to the route\npast-Harry and Professor Quirrell had traversed, it wouldn’t do to have\nthe Professor sense another Harry—\nHarry felt a leaden stab of sadness, and refused it.\nThirty-one one-thousand, thirty-two one-thousand, thirty-three\none-thousand…\nWhen Harry reached forty, not wanting to take chances with his own\neardrums, he glanced at his wristwatch, noting the exact time, and spun\nhis Time-Turner once.\n117. Aftermath, Something to\nProtect, Part 0\nAtfirst\nAnna had been gratified to see the final Quidditch Cup go on so long—as\na Gryffindor she was a bystander at the House Cup thing, it wasn’t like\nGryffindor ever won. In contrast, last year’s Quidditch World Cup, to\nwhich her family had bought some very expensive tickets, had been over\ninten minutes, which wasawful. Modern Quidditch\ngames had become too short, the Snitch caught much too quickly. It was a\nwidely-talked problem among aficionados: broomstick enchantments had\nadvanced, while the Snitch stayed the same regulation speed, with the\nresult that Quidditch games had become shorter and shorter. At\nprofessional levels the sport of Quidditch had been reduced to a contest\nof who had the deepest pockets for their Seeker’s experimental racing\nbroom, and the rest of the players might as well have been watching from\nthe stands.\nEveryone knew something had to be done, the situation had been\ngetting worse forcenturiesand now it wasintolerable. But the Confédération Internationale des Comités\ndes Magiciens de Quidditch was mired in all the usual acrimony of the\nI.C.W., screaming disputes between Germans and Bulgarians, and somehow\nnobody could agree onexactlyhow to fix the rules. To Anna the\ncorrect course seemed obvious, just make the Snitch fast enough to\nrestore the four-hour or five-hour games of the early nineteenth century\nand the Golden Age of Quidditch. Except the Belgians thought the\nduration of a professional game should be two hours like inLa Belle\nÉpoquewhen Belgium had dominated Quidditch, and the lunatic\nItalians wanted to go back to the week-long Quidditch games of the\nfourteenth century, and Britain’s even crazier blood purists kept on\ntalking up the occasional day-long Quidditch match as proof that\nbroomsticks couldn’treallyhave improved since everything was\nbetter in the old dayswhich was not how the Interdict of Merlin\nworked.\nShe was one hundred percent on the side of Harry Potter that it was\ntime for Hogwarts to give up on those gibbering slow-coaches and just\nchange the rules, starting here and now. But not byeliminating the\nSnitch,that was going all the way back toeleventh century\nKwidditch.It didn’t matter if Headmistress Hufflepuff had first\nintroduced the innovation because one of her students had wanted to play\nthe game but not been suited to the usual roles. Snitches had caught on\ninternationally because it was more exciting when the game could always\nend in the next minute.\nAnna had been arguing this viewpoint at the top of her lungs for the\nlast thirty minutes, quite forgetting to pay attention to the game.\nThanks to a lucky coincidence of seating she’d been near the\nBoy-Who-Lived and his sign, and hence she’d managed to stake out her\nposition right from the start.\nShe was aware, in the back of her mind, that if the Quidditch rules\nreallydidchange starting here and now, then this was themost important thing she’d ever do. She could almostfeelthe pressure of Time twisting around her as though the\nfate of Quidditch Itself were being settled this very day, and she was\nstanding close to the centre of it… though she hadn’t got high-enough\nscores in Divination to actually sense anything like that, of\ncourse.\nShe hardly noticed when at one point the Boy-Who-Lived stood up to go\nto the bathroom.\nThe Boy-Who-Lived did catch her eye when he trudged back; Harry\nPotter looked a bit tired and wobbly, though his uniform appeared as\ntrim as if he’d just changed into a new one.\nShe noticed half an hour later on, when Harry Potter seemed to sway a\nbit, and then hunch over, his hands going to cover up his forehead; it\nlooked like he was prodding at his forehead scar. The thought made her\nslightly worried; everyone knew there wassomething going onwith Harry Potter, and if Potter’s scar was hurting him then it was\npossible that a sealed horror was about to burst out of his forehead and\neat everyone. She dismissed that thought, though, and continued to\nexplain Quidditch facts to the historically ignorant at the top of her\nlungs.\nShe definitely noticed when Harry Potter stood up, hands still on his\nforehead, and dropped his hands to reveal that his famous lightning-bolt\nscar was now blazing red and inflamed. It wasbleeding, with\nthe blood dripping down Potter’s nose.\nShe stopped talking mid-sentence. Other people turned to look at what\nshe was staring at.\n“Professor McGonagall?” Harry Potter said in a wavering voice. There\nwere tears in the corners of his eyes, which shocked her; the\nBoy-Who-Lived didnotseem like the sort of person who would\nburst into tears. Harry Potter raised his voice further, as though it\nwere hard for him to speak. “Um, Professor McGonagall?”\nProfessor McGonagall turned away from where she was arguing with the\nHufflepuff Quidditch team. The Head of Gryffindor’s eyes widened in\nshock, and then she was moving people out of her way, almost running.\n“Harry!” she said. “Yourscar!”\nSilence was spreading, in a widening circle.\n“I think,” Harry said, his voice still wavering but louder, “I think\nhe’s back. I think I’m seeing—through Voldemort’s mind—”\nAnna took a step back at You-Know-Who’s name and nearly fell over a\nbench. An older boy standing next to her gave a cry of dismay, and then\nthe Boy-Who-Lived shrieked even louder.\n“HE’S KILLING THEM!” screamed Harry Potter.\nHalf the Quidditch stadium turned to look at him.\n“The ritual!” cried Harry Potter. “Blood of his servants! The blood,\nthe life! He summoned them, he took their heads, their blood, the life,\nto renew his own—THE DARK LORD RISES, VOLDEMORT IS RETURNED!”\nMadam Hooch blew a shrill whistle, and the Quidditch brooms that\nhadn’t already stopped in mid-air began to slow. For herself she wasn’t\nsure if this was a joke; if it was, Boy-Who-Lived or not, he was in more\ntrouble than she could even imagine.\nProfessor McGonagall raised her wand into position for a Quieting\nCharm and Harry Potter caught her hand.\n“Wait—” Harry Potter gasped, his voice lower, but still loud enough\nthat she and the people near her could hear clearly. “He can be\nstopped—I see his mind, his mistake—he can be stoppednow—the way is still open! She’s following him! She whom\nVoldemort slew!” Harry’s voice rose further, as Anna’s own mouth\nfell open in sudden confusion. “RETURN! RETURN, RETURN, REVIVE AND STOP\nHIM! STOP HIM, HERMIONE!”\nAnd then Harry Potter fell silent. He looked around at the people\nstaring at him.\nShe’d just about decided that this had to all be a prank inunbelievablypoor taste, when a distant but sharpcrackfilled the air.\nHarry Potter swayed, and fell to his knees, even as her heart jumped\ninto her throat. An explosion of excited babble rose around them.\nShe could still hear the words from Harry Potter’s mouth, as\nProfessor McGonagall knelt next to him. “It worked,” Harry Potter gasped\naloud, “she got him, he’s gone.”\n“What?” cried Professor McGonagall, then glanced around.\n“Quiet! Quiet, all of you!Harry, what happened?”\nHarry Potter was speaking rapidly but loudly. “Voldemort—tried to\nrevive—he summoned Death Eatersand he killed them, stole their\nblood and life—Hermione’s body was there, I don’t know why, maybe\nVoldemort was planning to use it for something—Voldemort came back, he\nresurrected himself, but Hermionefollowed him backand shedestroyed him, he’s gone, it’s over. It happened in a graveyard\nnear Hogwarts, it’s,” Harry Potter rose to his feet, still swaying, “I\nthink it’s in that direction.” Harry Potter pointed in the rough\ndirection thecrackhad come from, “I’m not sure how far. The\nsound from there took twenty seconds to get here, so maybe two minutes\non a broomstick—”\nWith a motion so smooth it looked unconscious, Professor McGonagall\nshifted into a stance and said “Expecto Patronum.” She\naddressed the glowing cat that then appeared. “Go to Albus, tell him he\nmust come at once—”\n“Dumbledore’s gone!” cried Harry Potter. “The Headmaster is gone,\nProfessor McGonagall! The Dark Lord trapped him, he reversed some kind\nof trap the Headmaster planned and Dumbledore was caught outside Time,\nhe’s gone!”\nThe horrified babble around them rose in pitch.\n“Go to Albus!” Professor McGonagall said to her Patronus.\nThe moonlit cat only looked at McGonagall sadly, and Anna sucked in\nher breath in sudden horror, feeling like someone had punched her in the\nstomach. It was real, it was all real, this wasn’t a joke.\n“Professor McGonagall, Hermione isalive!” Harry Potter\nraised his voice again. “She’s really alive and not an Inferius or\nanything, and she’s still there in the graveyard!”\n“A broomstick!” Professor McGonagall shouted. She turned to\nthe players hovering motionless over the Quidditch field. “I need a\nbroomstick.Now!”\nDespite everything, Anna raised a hand in mute protest, then caught\nherself, even as the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Seekers came zooming over\n(with excellent strategic sense, since they weren’t actually doing\nanything).\nHarry Potter was already retrieving another broomstick from his\npouch, a multi-person one.\nProfessor McGonagall saw this, and nodded firmly. “You stay here,\nMr Potter, unless there is some excellent reason you must be there. I\nwill go at once.”\n“You mustn’t!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, who’d shoved his tiny way\nthrough the crowd, occasionally running under someone’s legs. His eyes\nwere wide, he looked as though he wanted to faint. “You have to stay at\nHogwarts, Minerva! You—you’re the—” Professor Flitwick seemed to be\nhaving trouble speaking.\nProfessor McGonagall spun around to face Professor Flitwick, and then\nstopped, blood draining from her face.\nThen she seized the broomstick from Harry Potter’s hand, and\npresented it to the tiny half-goblin Professor. “Filius,” she said\ncrisply. All the incipient panic had disappeared from her voice, she now\nspoke in her crisp Scottish accent as though addressing lessons on\nMonday. “Look for the graveyard of which Mr Potter spoke, find\nMiss Granger. Apparate her to St. Mungo’s and then stay by her.”\n“I think—” Harry Potter said hoarsely. “I think Transfiguration might\nhave been used in combat there—Professor Quirrell tried to fight\nVoldemort—take precautions—”\nFilius Flitwick nodded without halting in getting on the\nbroomstick.\n“Professor Quirrell’s dead!” wailed Harry Potter. The anguish in his\nvoice carried clearly. “He’s dead! The Dark Lord killed him! His body—”\nHarry Potter choked up. “It’s there, in the graveyard.”\nShe stumbled back again, feeling it like another punch in her gut.\nProfessor Quirrell had been—one of her favourite Professors,ever, he’d made her rethink everything she’d believed about\nSlytherin, she’d known in some distant way that he was probably going to\ndie very soon but to hear that he was really, truly dead…\nThe Boy-Who-Lived sat down on the bench, as if his legs couldn’t\nsupport him any more.\nProfessor McGonagall turned to the crowd, touching her wand to her\nthroat. “Quidditch is over,” her\namplified voice boomed out. “Go back to your\ndormitories—”\n“DON’T!” screamed Harry Potter.\nProfessor McGonagall turned to look at him.\nTears were leaking down the Boy-Who-Lived’s cheeks, he looked like\nthe interruption had surprised himself as much as it had surprised\nanyone else. “It was Professor Quirrell’s last plot,” Harry Potter said,\nhis voice breaking. The Boy-Who-Lived looked at the Quidditch players\nwho had now flown to nearby, as though speaking to them directly. “His\nlast plot.”\nHarry Potter was floated off by Professor McGonagall to the\ninfirmary. The other Professors ran off to oversee who-knew-what,\nleaving only Professors Sinistra and Hooch behind. At the stadium,\nrumours ran wild; Anna repeated everything she could remember hearing as\nbest she could. Something had happened to Dumbledore, some Death Eaters\nhad been summoned and killed (no, Harry Potter hadn’t said which ones),\nProfessor Quirrell had gone out to face the Dark Lord and died for it,\nYou-Know-Who had returned and died again, Professor Quirrell was dead,\nhe was dead.\nIn time most of the students wandered off back to their dormitories,\nto sleep if they could.\nAnna stayed in the stadium, and watched the rest of the game,\nignoring her body’s need for sleep, and her eyes that often blurred with\ntears.\nThe Ravenclaw team put up a valiant fight.\nBut there was no Quidditch team anywhere that could’ve defeated the\nSlytherins that day.\nDawn was tingeing the sky when the Slytherins won their final game,\nthe Quidditch Cup, and the House Cup.\n118. Something to Protect:\nMinerva McGonagall\nThemorning after had come, and all the students had gathered silently\naround the four Tables of Hogwarts, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres\namong them. He had collapsed in exhaustion last night and been awoken in\nthe infirmary next morning, still muzzy, with the Philosopher’s Stone\nunderneath his left sock.\nThe Head Table looked like a plague had swept it.\nDumbledore’s throne was gone from the Head Table, leaving the centre\nof the Head Table empty.\nSeverus Snape was sitting in a floating seat, the magical equivalent\nof a wheelchair.\nProfessor Sprout was missing. According to what Harry had been told\nlast night, a court Legilimens would examine her to see if any further\ncompulsions remained, but probably no charges would be filed. Harry had\nemphasized to Professor McGonagall and the Aurors, as hard as he could,\nthat Professor Sprout was probably just a victim. The Boy-Who-Lived had\npronounced that he’d seen no evidence of Sprout’s intentional guilt in\nVoldemort’s mind.\nProfessor Flitwick was missing, presumably still staying by\nHermione’s side.\nProfessor Sinistra was missing and Harry didn’t know why or\nwhere.\nThe numbness that surrounded Harry’s mind was like a Mylar blanket,\nprotective if not comforting. There were scenes in his mind of black\nrobes falling and blood spilling, appearing for an instant before being\nshoved back. He’d process it later, not now. Some other time would be\nbetter, future-Harry would have a comparative advantage at coping.\nSomewhere inside Harry was the fear that itwouldn’thurt,\nthat there would be no price to be paid. But that fear also could be put\noff into the future.\nNo breakfast had appeared on the tables. The students sitting near\nHarry were waiting in frightened silence. Owls had been prohibited from\nentering or leaving Hogwarts since early last night.\nThe doors of the Great Hall opened once more, and forth came Deputy\nHeadmistress Minerva McGonagall. She wore robes of formal black, and her\nhead was bare, denuded of its usual witch’s hat. Her grey-brown-blonde\nhair was done up in a coiled braid, as if in preparation for a hat to be\nplaced later; but for now Harry saw her head bare for the first\ntime.\nMinerva McGonagall came to the lectern that stood before the Head\nTable.\nAll eyes were upon her.\n“I am afraid that I have much news,” Minerva said. Her voice was sad,\nwithin its Scottish precision. “And most of it is terrible. First. The\nreason I am the one to speak to you is that the Headmaster of Hogwarts,\nAlbus,” her voice stopped, “Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, has been\nlost. You-Know-Who trapped him outside Time, and we do not know if he\never can be brought back to us. We, we have lost, who may have been, the\ngreatest Headmaster, that Hogwarts has ever had.”\nA susurration of horror arose across the tables, no audible gasps or\nmoans, just the sound of many intakes of breath; most from Gryffindor,\nand some from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw as well. The ill news had already\nbeen known, but now it had also been said by authority.\n“Second. You-Know-Who returned briefly, but is once again dead. All\nthat remained of him was his hands clutched around Miss Granger’s\nthroat. There is no more threat from him, or so we think.” Minerva\nMcGonagall drew in another breath. “Third. Professor Quirrell died with\nhis wand in his hand, facing You-Know-Who. He was found not far from\nwhere You-Know-Who perished again, a victim of You-Know-Who’s Killing\nCurse.” Another susurration of verified horror, now from all four\ntables.\nMinerva drew another breath. “Last night we also lost what may have\nbeen the greatest Defence Professor in the history of Hogwarts. His\nscholastic merits alone… Our Defence Professor has gone by many names,\nbut his true name was David Monroe. As he was the last of the Noble and\nMost Ancient House of Monroe, his funeral—his second funeral, and the\ntrue one—will be held before the Most Ancient Hall of the Wizengamot, in\ntwo days. Yet a wake shall also be held for the Defence Professor of\nHogwarts, for our own Professor Quirrell, in this castle. That man also\ndied a Hogwarts teacher, as nobly as a Hogwarts teacher ever did.”\nHarry listened in silence, shoving down the tears that again rose to\nhis eyes. It wasn’t eventrue, let alone unexpected; and yet\nhearing it still hurt. From where he sat beside, Anthony Goldstein put a\ncomforting hand over Harry’s hand, and Harry left it there.\n“Fourth. One piece of exceedingly unexpected and happy news. Hermione\nGranger is alive and in full health, sound of body and mind.\nMiss Granger is being observed at St. Mungo’s to see if there are any\nunexpected after-effects from whatever happened to her, but she appears\nto be doing astonishingly well considering her previous condition.”\nIt should have produced wild cheers from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, if\nthe news had come as part of any other package, or if it had been more\nunexpected. As it stood, Harry saw a few smiles, but they were brief.\nMaybe they’d jumped for joy earlier, but at the moment there was only\nsilence. Harry understood that. He wasn’t cheering either, not right\nnow.\n“Finally—” Minerva McGonagall faltered, then raised her voice. “I\nfear that I have the gravest possible news to share with some of our\nstudents. It seems that You-Know-Who summoned those who were once his\nfollowers; and many of them obeyed, whether from terribly misguided\nloyalty, or out of fear for their families if they refused. A sacrifice\nwas required, it seems, to complete You-Know-Who’s resurrection; or\nperhaps You-Know-Who blamed his former followers for his defeat.\nThirty-seven bodies were found, more followers outside Azkaban than\nYou-Know-Who was thought to have. I am afraid—” Minerva McGonagall\nfaltered again. “I am afraid that among the deceased are the parents of\nmany of our students—”\nno no no no no no NO NO NO NO\nAs though by some terrible magnet, Harry’s eyes were drawn to the\npicture of absolute horror that was Draco Malfoy’s face, even as the\ncomforting cotton wrap around Harry’s thoughts was torn away like thin\ntissue.\nHow could he have not thought, how could he have not realised—\nSomewhere in the background, someone was already screaming, and yet\nthe room seemed very silent.\n“Sheila, Flora, and Hestia Carrow lost both their parents last night.\nStudents who have lost their fathers include Robert Jugson, Ethan\nJugson, Sara Jugson, Michael Macnair, Riley and Randy Rookwood, Lily Lu,\nSasha Sproch, Daniel Gibson, Jason Gross, Elsie Ambrose—”\nMaybe Lucius realised, maybe he was smart enough to stay away,\nmaybe he realised that Voldemort was the one who struck at\nDraco—\n“—Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy. This\nconcludes the list.”\nOne student sitting at the Gryffindor table let out a single cheer,\nand was immediately slapped by the Gryffindor witch sitting nearby hard\nenough that a Muggle would have lost teeth.\n“Thirty points from Gryffindor and detention for the first month of\nnext year,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice hard enough to break\nstone.\n“Lies!” shrieked a tall Slytherin, who’d risen up from that\ntable. “Lies! Lies! The Dark Lord will return, and he’ll, he’ll\nteach you all the meaning of—”\n“Mr Jugson,” said Severus Snape’s voice. It was also faltering, it\ndidn’t sound like the Potions Master at all, it wasn’t loud and yet the\nSlytherin fell silent. “Robert. The Dark Lord killed your father.”\nRobert Jugson let out a scream of terrific fury and turned to run out\nof the room, and Draco Malfoy folded in on himself like a collapsing\nhouse and made sounds that nobody heard, because the babble was starting\nup now.\nHarry rose six inches from the bench and then stopped.\nWhat would you say to Draco there is nothing you can say to Draco\nyou can’t go over there now and pretend to be his friend. You want to\nmake it right you want to make it better but you cannot make it right\nthere is no way you can make right what you have done to him what you\ndid to Vincent to Gregory what you did to Theodore…\nThe world blurred around Harry, he barely saw Padma Patil rise up and\nmake her way toward the Slytherin table and Draco, or Seamus heading\ntowards Theodore.\nAnd because Harry had read his father’s science-fiction and fantasy\ncollection, because he had already read this scene a dozen times over\nwhen it happened to other protagonists, there was an image in Harry’s\nmind of Mad-Eye Moody, of the scarred man called Alastor. And Mad-Eye’s\nimage was saying, in just the same voice he’d used to speak to Albus\nDumbledore in memory, that the Death Eaters had been pointing their\nwands at Harry, that they had already chosen to take the Dark Mark, that\nthey had been guilty of sins beyond reckoning and maybe beyond Harry’s\nimagination, that they had foregone the deontological protection of good\npeople and made themselves targets if there was a strong reason to\nsacrifice them. That it had been necessary to save Harry’s innocent\nparents from torture and Azkaban, that it had been necessary to protect\nthe world from Voldemort. That plain old ordinary Aurors and judges had\nto do much more morally questionable things than killing sworn and\nblooded Death Eaters who were pointing wands at them, in the course of\ncarrying out ordinary justices that were less clear-cut but still\nnecessary to society. If it were not right to do what Harry had done, if\nit were not right to do muchmoremorally ambiguous things than\nwhat Harry had done, then society as human beings knew it could not\nexist. Nobody with common sense would blame Harry for doing it, Neville\nwouldn’t blame him, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t blame him, Dumbledore\nwouldn’t blame him, even Hermione would tell him it had been the right\nthing to do once she knew.\nAnd all of this was true.\nJust as it was also true that some part of Harry’s mind had\ncalculated that wiping out the blood-purist political elite would make\nit easier and more convenient to rebuild magical Britain afterwards. It\nhadn’t been an important consideration, but it had still been calculated\nin those instants of rapid thought, a check on the long-term\nconsequences to see if they rated as catastrophic, and a decision that\nthey actually rated as pretty much okay. And that check had forgotten\nthat Death Eaters had children at Hogwarts or that one of them wore the\nface of Draco’s father. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It wouldn’t\nhave changed anything at all. But that was the truth of the calculation\nHarry’s mind had performed, given only seconds to think.\nAt least Harry could, if the Death Eaters’ survivors were in any sort\nof financial trouble, do something about that easily enough. Transfigure\ngold, and use the Stone to make it permanent—unless making that much\ngold would be troublesome to the wizard economy at large, or cause\nobjections from goblins who didn’t understand market monetarist\neconomics—though it wasn’t as though Harry didn’t also have useful\nservices to sell—\nOther cotton wrap was also being torn off Harry’s thoughts, now.\n“It seems likely,” Minerva said, her voice was not loud but it cut\nthrough all other sounds, “that some of our students will also have been\nstripped last night of those named as their guardians. Should you end up\na ward of Hogwarts, please know that I will take the responsibilities of\nmy position with extreme seriousness. You will be extended every\ncourtesy. Your family’s vault will be managed well and truly. As best I\ncan, I will treat every one of you as I would my own children—and I will\nprotect you as much as I would protect my own children, no more, no\nless. I hope that is clear toeveryone at Hogwarts.”\nStudents nodded rapidly.\n“Good,” Minerva said. Her voice sank back. “Then there is one more\nthing that must be done.”\nWith a sad, solemn air, Professor Sinistra emerged from a side\nentrance. She was wearing white robes instead of her usual brown, and\ninstead of her customary witch’s hat, she was wearing a many-tasselled\nsquare hat whose colours had faded into mostly grey.\nIn her hands, Professor Sinistra carried the Sorting Hat.\nWith the air of someone carrying out a ceremony that had not changed\nin centuries, Aurora Sinistra knelt, on one knee, before Minerva\nMcGonagall, presenting to her the Sorting Hat in both hands.\nMinerva McGonagall took the Sorting Hat from Professor Sinistra’s\nhands, and placed it on her own head.\nThere was a long silence.\n“HEADMISTRESS!”\n“As Albus Dumbledore is not dead,” Minerva said, her voice so low\nthat students strained to hear it, “but only taken from us, I accept\nthis position in the capacity of Acting Headmistress only—until\nDumbledore’s return.”\nA piercing cry split the Great Hall, and Fawkes was there, overflying\nall Four Tables in a slow spiral arc. He passed over each of the tables,\nhumming in his bird’s voice, a hum of absolute loyalty that would\noutlast the death of merely physical fires.Wait,the hum\nseemed to say.Wait until his return, and be true.\nFawkes circled Minerva McGonagall three times, feathered wings\nbrushing around her as the tears began to creep down her cheeks; then\nthe bird flew out a window above the Hall, and was gone.\n119. Something to Protect:\nProfessor Quirrell\nTheSun\nshone down on the Scottish green, striking sparks of reflected white\nfrom every passing dewdrop or reflective leaf that happened to position\nitself correctly, a clear blue sky for a funeral.\nHarry had declined to give the eulogy. He’d declined for the second\ntime. Professor Flitwick had asked him about it weeks ago in May, to\ngive Harry time to write his lines before it would become necessary to\nspeak; and Harry had said no then, too.\nSo it fell to a sixth-year Gryffindor, Oliver Habryka, who had the\nfourth-highest total of Quirrell points among all the students, and who\nhad been General of an army. The seventeen-year-old boy was tall and not\nespecially handsome in solid black robes; instead of a red tie, he was\nwearing a purple tie such as Professor Quirrell had sometimes\nfavoured.\nSpeaking, under the circumstances, extempore. The previous eulogies,\nwritten well in advance, had been discarded; Oliver Habryka had a\nparchment in his left hand, but he wasn’t looking at it at all.\n“Professor Quirrell was very sick,” the tall boy said, his wavering\nvoice falling into a hush of students, occasionally broken by a muffled\nsob. “I think if Professor Quirrell had been able to fight in the\nfullness of his power, You-Know-Who couldn’t have beat him easily, and\nmaybe not at all. They say that David Monroe was the only one that\nYou-Know-Who was ever afraid of, in his day. But,” Oliver’s voice broke,\n“Professor Quirrell wasn’t in the fullness of his power. He was very\nsick. He had trouble walking by himself. And he went to face the Dark\nLord, alone.”\nThere was a pause, then, while the students cried for a while.\nOliver wiped away his tears with his sleeve, and spoke again. “We\ndon’t know exactly what happened,” said Oliver. “I imagine the Dark Lord\nlaughed at him. Maybe made fun of the Professor, for challenging him\nwhen he couldn’t stand up. Well,he’s not laughing now, is\nhe.”\nThere were fierce nods from the students; all of them that Harry\ncould see, from Gryffindor to Slytherin.\n“Maybe the Dark Lord knew some way of curing Professor Quirrell,\nYou-Know-Who did come back from the dead after all. Maybe he offered\nProfessor Quirrell his life if Professor Quirrell would serve him.\nProfessor Quirrell smiled, and told the Dark Lord it was time for them\nto play a game called Who’s The Most Dangerous Wizard In The World.”\nIf you don’t know, don’t just make stuff up.But Harry\ndidn’t say anything. It was what Lord Voldemort might have tried, it was\nwhat Professor Quirrell might have said back.\n“And they aren’t telling us everything,” Oliver said, “but we can\nguess what happened next. We all know that Hermione Granger, who was one\nof the Professor’s best students, was killed by a troll earlier this\nyear, it must have been the Dark Lord who made it happen, just like he\nframed her for the Blood-Cooling Charm. Professor Quirrell knew the Dark\nLord was behind it, so he stole Miss Granger’s body and preserved it,\nkept it safe—”\nCouldn’t blame him for that one.\n“Then Professor Quirrell went out to face the Dark Lord. The Dark\nLord killed Professor Quirrell. And Hermione Granger came back to life.\nThey say she’s alive and whole now, and maybe something more. When the\nDark Lord tried to seize her, all that was left of him afterwards was\nhis burned robes and his hands around Miss Granger’s throat. Just as\nHarry Potter was protected from the Killing Curse by his mother’s love\nand sacrifice, Professor Quirrell willingly going out, to face, the Dark\nLord alone, must have called, Hermione Granger’s spirit, back from, from\nwherever, she was—” Oliver’s voice was breaking.\n“Not just like that,” Harry said from the front row of seats, his own\nvoice hoarse. Hehadto say something at this point, before it\ngot out of control. If it wasn’t already out of control. “David Monroe\nwas a powerful wizard, more powerful than anyone knew except him and me.\nI don’t think you can bring someone back from the dead just by\nsacrificing yourself. No-one should try doing it that way.”\nSuch a beautiful story. It should have been true.It should have\nbeen true.\n“I don’t know very much about the person behind the Professor,”\nOliver Habryka said, after he got himself under control again. “I know\nDavid Monroe wasn’t a happy man. He never could cast a Patronus\nCharm.”\nTears were gathering in Harry’s eyes again. It wasn’t right, it\nwasn’t fair, Voldemort had killed so many people, he should have died\nalong with his followers, he didn’t deserve special treatment. But it\nhadn’t just been Harry’s weakness, it had been the horcruxes, Voldemortcouldn’thave been killed outright. So Harry could admit it, he\nwas glad, he wasgladProfessor Quirrell wasn’t all gone…\n“But I, know,” said Oliver, tears glistening on his own cheeks,\n“Professor Quirrell, is happy, wherever, he is now.”\nOn Harry’s left hand, a tiny emerald glowed bright beneath the\nmorning sun.\nNot Heaven, not some faraway star, not a different place but a\nbetter person, I’ll show you, some day I’ll show you how to be\nhappy—\nThe tall boy glanced down at a parchment he held in his other hand,\nthe first time he’d consulted it. “Professor Quirrell,” Oliver said, his\nvoice now fiercer and faster, “was, by far, the best Professor of Battle\nMagic that Hogwarts ever had. Salazar Slytherin couldn’t have been half\nas good a teacher, no matter what spells he knew. Professor Quirrell\ntold us at the beginning of this year that what he taught us would\nalways be our firm foundation in the arts of Defence. And it will be.\nForever. We’ll teach it to the new students next year, no matter who we\nhave for a professor. The older students will teach the younger ones.\nThat’s the solution to the curse on the Defence position. We won’t sit\naround waiting for authority to teach us. And we’ll make sure that\nProfessor Quirrell’s teachings never die out of Hogwarts.”\nHarry looked at where Professor—no, Headmistress McGonagall—was\nsitting, and saw the Headmistress nodding silently, a look that was sad\nand stern and proud.\n“They haven’t let us see Miss Granger yet,” Oliver said. His voice\nquavered. “The Girl-Who-Revived. But I’ll always think of the Defence\nProfessor when I see her. His sacrifice lives on in her, just as his\nteachings live on in us.” Oliver glanced at where Harry sat, then looked\ndown again at the parchment. “Here’s to Professor Quirrell, then, the\nbest Slytherin that ever was, what every Slytherin should be! Three\ncheers for him!”\n“Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”\nNo-one stayed silent this time, not a single student that Harry could\nsee.\n120. Something to Protect:\nAlbus Dumbledore\nHarrystood now before the gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster’s, no, the\nHeadmistress’s office. He had been summoned by Professor Sinistra, told\nthat it was an emergency, but the gates were not opening for him.\nExperiment had showed that the Stone made one Transfiguration\npermanent every three minutes and fifty-four seconds, irrespective of\nthe size of object Transfigured. Just once, holding the Philosopher’s\nStone up to the light of Harry’s most powerful torch in an otherwise\ndarkened cupboard, Harry had thought he’d seen an array of tiny points\ninside the chunk of crimson glass; but Harry hadn’t been able to see it\nagain, and now suspected himself of having imagined it. The Stone had no\nother powers that Harry could detect, nor did it respond to any\nattempted mental commands.\nHarry had given himself until noon tomorrow to figure out how to\nbegin using the Stone without it being grabbed by someone else, trying\nnot to think about what was still happening, what had always been\nhappening, in the meanwhile.\nTen minutes late, Minerva McGonagall approached, moving in a swift\nstride. Her arms were full of papers, she was once again wearing the\nSorting Hat.\nThe gargoyles, with a brief sound of grinding stone, bowed low before\nher.\n“The new password is ‘Impermanence’,” Minerva said to the gargoyles,\nand they stepped aside. “I’m sorry, Mr Potter, I was delayed—”\n“Understood.”\nMinerva mounted the long spiral stairs, climbing instead of waiting\nto be carried, Harry following behind her.\n“We are meeting with Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of\nMagical Law Enforcement; with Alastor Moody, whom you have met; and with\nBartemius Crouch, Director of the Department of International Magical\nCooperation,” Minerva said as she climbed. “They are Dumbledore’s heirs\nas much as you or I.”\n“How—how’s Hermione doing?” Harry hadn’t had a chance to ask until\nnow.\n“Filius said she seemed rather in shock, which I suppose is not\nsurprising. She asked where you were, was told you were at a Quidditch\ngame, asked where you really were, and refused to speak with anyone\nabout what happened until she was allowed to talk with you. She was\ntaken to St. Mungo’s, where,” the Headmistress now sounded slightly\nperturbed, “a standard diagnostic Charm showed Miss Granger as a healthy\nunicorn in excellent physical condition except that her mane needs\ncombing. Charms to detect active magic have each time detected her as\nbeing in the process of transforming into another shape. There was an\nUnspeakable who showed up before Filius, ah, removed him. He performed\ncertain spells he probably ought not to have known, and declared that\nHermione’s soul was in healthy condition but at least a mile away from\nher body. At that point the senior healers gave up. She’s currently\nalone in a cell with the rats and flies—”\n“She’s what?”\n“I’m sorry, Mr Potter, that’s Transfiguration jargon. Miss Granger is\nin an isolation chamber with a cage of tame rats, and a box of flies\nthat will bear offspring in a single day. Logic suggests that whatever\nmystery underlies her resurrection, it left behind an emanation that is\ncausing the healers’ Charms to produce gibberish. But if nothing happens\nto the rats or to the flies’ offspring, Miss Granger will be declared\nsafe to return to Hogwarts after she wakes up again tomorrow\nmorning.”\nHarry still wasn’t sure… wasn’t sure atall, what Hermione\nwould think of having been resurrected, at least under these particular\ncircumstances. He didn’t actually think Hermione would yell at him for\ndoing it wrong. That was just Harry’s brain trying to imagine her as a\nstereotype. Harry had been legitimately exhausted and not thinking very\nstraight when he’d come up with that cover story, and Hermione would\nprobably understand that part. But he couldn’t imagine what Hermionewouldthink…\n“I wonder how Miss Granger will feel about having also vanquished\nYou-Know-Who,” Minerva said reflectively, climbing the moving stairs\nfast enough that Harry felt out of breath trying to keep up. “And people\nbelieving the most interesting things about her.”\n“You mean, because she’s always self-identified as a normal academic\ngenius, and now a bunch of people think of her as the Girl-Who-Revived\nand everyone wants to shake her hand?” Harry said.Even though she\ndoesn’t remember doing anything to earn it. Even though it was all\nsomeone else’s work and other people’s sacrifices, and she’s getting the\ncredit. Even though she doesn’t feel like she’s actually done anything\nworthy of the way other people treat her, and she’s not sure if she can\never live up to the person they imagine.“Gosh, I don’t know, I\ncan’t imagine what that feels like.”\nMaybe I shouldn’t have subjected her to it. But people had to be\ngivensomethingto believe or heaven knows what they’d have\nmade up. Feeling guilty about this would be stupid. I think.\nThe two of them reached the top of the stairs, and came into the\noffice filled with dozens of strange objects, all facing a great desk\nand a mighty throne behind it.\nMinerva’s hand passed over one of those objects, the one with golden\nwibblers, her eyes closing briefly. Then Minerva took off the Sorting\nHat and put it on a hat rack that held three slippers for left feet. She\ntransformed the mighty throne into a simple cushioned chair and the\ngreat desk into a round table, around which four other chairs rose\nup.\nHarry watched it all with a strange pang in his throat. He knew,\nwithout either of them saying anything, that there should have been more\nceremony for the changing of the chairs, the changing of the table. Much\nmore ceremony, for the first time the Headmistress sat down in her new\noffice. But for whatever reason, there wasn’t time, and Minerva\nMcGonagall was discarding all that for speed.\nA wave of Minerva’s wand lit the Floo-fire in the fireplace, even as\nMinerva sat down into the chair that had been Dumbledore’s.\nHarry quietly took one of the chairs around the table, sitting at\nMinerva’s left.\nAlmost at once, the Floo-fire burned emeraldine and whirled out\nAlastor Moody, who spun around with his wand raised, taking in the whole\nroom at a seeming glance, and then pointed his wand directly at Harry\nand said “Avada Kedavra.”\nIt happened so fast, and took him so completely by surprise, that\nHarry’s wand wasn’t even half-raised by the time Alastor Moody finished\nthe incantation.\n“Just checking,” Alastor said to the Headmistress, whose own wand was\nnow pointed at Alastor, her mouth open as if to say words she couldn’t\nfind. “Voldie would’ve tried to dodge, if he’d taken over the boy’s body\nlast night. I’ll still need to check the Granger girl, though.” Alastor\nMoody went to Minerva’s right and sat down.\nHarry had thought, in that split second, to try producing a wordless\nsilver Patronus glow from his wand; but his wand hadn’t been in place to\nintercept in time, not even close.\nWell, if I was feeling invincible before, that does for that.\nWhat a valuable life lesson, Mr Moody.\nThen the Floo-fire burned green again, and spat out the oldest,\ngrimmest, toughest-looking witch Harry had ever seen, like beef jerky\ngiven human shape. The old witch did not have her wand in her hand, but\nshe projected an air of authority that was stronger and stricter than\nDumbledore’s.\n“This is Director Amelia Bones, Mr Potter,” said Headmistress\nMcGonagall, who’d regained her poise. “We are still waiting on Director\nCrouch—”\n“The corpse of Bartemius Crouch Jr. was identified among the dead\nDeath Eaters,” the old witch said without preamble, even as she\ncontinued toward the chairs. “It took us entirely by surprise, and I’m\nafraid Bartemius is in considerable grief about it, on both counts. He\nwill not be with us today.”\nHarry kept the flinch inward.\nAmelia Bones sat down in a chair, sitting to Moody’s own right.\n“Headmistress McGonagall,” said the elder witch, still without\nhesitation or delay, “The Line of Merlin Unbroken, which Dumbledore left\nto me in regency, is not responding to my hand. The Wizengamot must have\na Chief Warlock who is trustworthy,at once; matters are in\ngreat flux in Britain. I must know what Dumbledore has done,\nimmediately!”\n“Crap,” muttered Moody. His mad-eye was rolling wildly. “That’s not\ngood, not good at all.”\n“Yes, well,” said Minerva McGonagall, who looked rather apprehensive.\n“I cannot say that for certain. Albus—well, he clearly had an intimation\nthat he might not survive this war. But I do not think he was expecting\nMiss Granger to come back from the dead and kill Voldemort only hours\nlater. I do not think Albus was expecting that at all. I am not quite\nsure what his legacies will make of that—”\nAmelia Bones rose half out of her chair. “You mean to imply that theGrangergirl may have inherited the Line of Merlin Unbroken?\nThis is acatastrophe! She is twelve years old, untested—surely\nAlbus would not be so irresponsible as to leave the Line to whoever\nhappened to defeat Voldemort, without knowingwho!”\n“Well, putting it simply,” Minerva said. Her fingers squared the\npaperwork she’d taken with her, now lying on the desk. “Albusdidthink he knew who would defeat Voldemort. There was a\nprophecy concerning it, a verified one, which now seems to be in\nabeyance, or—I don’t know, Madam Bones! I have one letter for Mr Potter\nthat I am to give him in the event of Albus’s death or other departure,\nand then another letter that Albus said Mr Potter would be able to open\nonly after he defeated Voldemort. I am not sure what will happen to it\nnow. Perhaps Miss Granger will be able to open it, or perhaps it can\nnever be opened—”\n“Hold up,” Mad-Eye Moody said. He reached into his robes, drew out a\nlong, grey-knobbed wand that Harry recognized; it was Dumbledore’s wand,\nof a form and style not like any other wand in Hogwarts. Moody laid the\nwand on the table. “Before we go any further, Albus left me an\ninstruction or two of his own. Pick up this wand, boy.”\nHarry hesitated, thinking.\nAlbus Dumbledore sacrificed himself for me. He trusted Moody.\nThis probably isn’t a trap.\nThen Harry began to reach for the wand.\nIt leaped up and flew across the table, into Harry’s hand. And the\nmoment that Harry’s fingers grasped the handle it was like he heard a\nsong, a pæan of glory and battle that resonated in his mind. A wave of\nwhite fire ran up the handle and over the wood, magnifying as it moved,\nbursting from the end in a tremendous spray of sparks. Through the wood\nbeneath his fingers ran a sense of strength and constrained danger, like\na leashed wolf.\nHarry was also receiving an impression of distinct skepticism, as if\nthe wand had some level of awareness, and it was wondering how the hell\nit had ended up being held by a Hogwarts first-year.\n“Right,” said Mad-Eye Moody into the puzzled stares. “So it wasn’t\nMiss Granger who defeated Voldie, then. Didn’t think so.”\n“What.” Amelia Bones spoke the word flatly.\nMad-Eye Moody gave her a respectful nod. “Albus said this wand goes\nto whoever defeats its previous master. Took it off old Grindie, he did.\nThen Voldie defeated Albus, yesterday. Do I need to spell it out,\nAmelia?”\nAmelia Bones was staring at Harry, her mouth wide open.\n“That might not be right,” Harry said. He swallowed another pang of\nthe awful guilt. “I mean, Voldemort used me as a hostage because I, I\nwas stupid, and Dumbledore gave himself up to save me, maybe the wand\nthinks that counts as my defeating Dumbledore. Um, I did defeat\nVoldemort, though. Vanquished him. But I think it’s better if nobody has\nany idea I was there.”\nBeep. Tick. Whirr. Ding. Poot.\n“Thatmust have takensomedoing,” Mad-Eye said.\nThe scarred man inclined his head slowly, a gesture of profound respect.\n“Don’t feel too guilty about losing Albus and David and Flamel, son, no\nmatter how stupid you were. You won in the end. All of us put together\nnever could. Just to check, son, you and David also destroyed Voldie’s\nhorcrux? And you’recertainit was the real thing?”\nHarry hesitated, weighing up the probable consequences of trust, the\npossible disasters of silence, and then shook his head to Moody in\nreply. He’d been planning to tell at least McGonagall about what was now\ninside her school, anyway. “Voldemort had… rather a lot of horcruxes,\nactually. So instead I Obliviated most of his memories, then\nTransfigured him into this.” Harry raised his hand, and silently pointed\nto the emerald on his ring.\nSplat. Boing. Splat. Splat.\n“Huh,” Moody said, leaning back in his chair. “Minerva and I will be\nputting some alarms and enchantments on that ring of yours, son, if you\ndon’t mind. Just in case you forget to sustain that Transfiguration one\nday. And don’t go hunting any other Dark wizards, ever, just live a\nquiet and peaceful life.” The scarred man took a handkerchief and wiped\nat the beads of sweat that had now appeared on his forehead. “But well\ndone, lad, you and David both, may he rest in peace. This was his idea,\nI’m guessing? Well done, I say.”\n“Indeed,” said Amelia Bones, who had now regained her composure. “We\nall owe the both of you a tremendous debt of gratitude. But I say again\nthat there is urgent business regarding the Line of Merlin\nUnbroken.”\n“I believe,” Minerva McGonagall said slowly, “that I had best give\nAlbus’s letters to Mr Potter, right now.” At the top of her stack of\npapers now lay a parchment envelope, and a rolled-up parchment scroll\nsealed with a grey ribbon.\nThe Headmistress gave Harry the parchment envelope, first, and Harry\nopened it.\nIf you are reading this, Harry Potter, then I have fallen to\nVoldemort, and the quest now lies in your hands.Though it may shock you to learn, this was the end that I wished in\nmy heart would come to pass. For as I write this, it yet seems possible\nthat Voldemort may fall by my own hand. And then, in time, I shall\nmyself become the darkness you must overcome, to enter fully into your\npower. For it was said once that you might need to raise your hand\nagainst your mentor, the one who made you, who you loved; it was said\nthat you might be my downfall. If you are reading this, then that shall\nnever come to pass, and I am glad of it.Even so, Harry, I would spare you this, the lonely fight against\nVoldemort. I write this, vowing to shelter you as long as I can, no\nmatter the final cost to myself. But if I have failed, then know that I\nam glad of it, in my own selfish way.With my passing, there is none left to oppose Voldemort as an equal\nsave you. His shadow will fall long and terrible over magical Britain,\nand many will suffer and die for it. That shadow will not lift until you\ndestroy its source, until you cleanse the heart of the darkness. How you\nare to do this, I do not know. If Voldemort knows not the power you\nbear, then neither do I. You must find that power within yourself, you\nmust learn to wield it, you must become Voldemort’s final judge, and I\nbeg you not to make the error of showing him mercy.My wand, which I have left to you in Moody’s keeping, you must not\ndare to wield against Voldemort. For when that wand’s master is\ndefeated, it passes to the victor in turn. When you have conquered my\nconqueror, then the wand will answer truly to your hand; but if you try\nto turn it against Voldemort before then, it will betray you for\ncertain. Keep it out of Voldemort’s grasp at all costs. I should advise\nyou not to wield that wand at all, yet it is a device of great power,\nwhich you might need in some desperate case. But if you pick it up you\nmust fear its treachery at all times.In my absence, the Wizengamot will inevitably fall to Malfoy. The\nLine of Merlin Unbroken I have passed to you, with Amelia Bones as your\nregent, until you come of age or come into your power. But she cannot\noppose Malfoy for long, not with myself gone and Voldemort returned to\nadvise him. Soon, I think, the Ministry will fall, and Hogwarts will\nbecome the last fortress. To Minerva I have left Hogwarts’s keys, but\nyou alone are its prince, and she will help you however she can.Alastor now leads the Order of the Phœnix. Heed his words well, both\nhis advice and his confidences. It is one of my life’s greatest regrets\nthat I did not heed Alastor more and sooner.That you will in the end defeat Voldemort, I have no doubt.For that will be only the beginning of your life’s destiny. Of that,\ntoo, I am certain.When you have vanquished Voldemort, when you have saved this country,\nthen, I hope, you may embark upon the true meaning of your days.Hurry then to begin.Yours in death (or in whatever),Dumbledore.P.S. The passwords are ‘phœnix’s price’, ‘phœnix’s fate’, and\n‘phœnix’s egg’, spoken within my office. Minerva can move those rooms to\nwhere you can reach them more easily.\nHarry folded up the parchment and put its back into the envelope,\nfrowning thoughtfully, then took the grey-ribboned scroll from the\nHeadmistress. When the long grey wand in Harry’s hand touched the\nribbon, it fell away at once; and Harry unrolled the scroll, and read\nit.\nDear Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres:If you are reading this, you have defeated Voldemort.Congratulations on that.I hope you had some time in which to celebrate before you opened this\nscroll, because the news in it is not cheerful.During the First Wizarding War, there came a time when I realised\nthat Voldemort was winning, that he would soon hold all within his\nhand.In that extremity, I went into the Department of Mysteries and I\ninvoked a password which had never been spoken in the history of the\nLine of Merlin Unbroken, did a thing forbidden and yet not utterly\nforbidden.I listened to every prophecy that had ever been recorded.And so I learned that my troubles were far worse than Voldemort.From certain seers and diviners have come an increasing chorus of\nforetellings that this world is doomed to destruction.And you, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, are one of those foretold\nto destroy it.By rights I should have ended your line of possibility, stopped you\nfrom ever being born, as I did my best to end all the other\npossibilities I discovered on that day of terrible awakening.Yet in your case, Harry, and in your case alone, the prophecies of\nyour apocalypse have loopholes, though those loopholes be ever so\nslight.Always ‘he will end the world’, not ‘he will end life’.Even when it was said that you would tear apart the very stars in\nheaven, it was not said that you would tear apart the people.And so, it being clear that this world is not meant to last, I have\ngambled literally everything upon you, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres.\nThere were no prophecies of how the world might be saved, so I found the\nprophecies that offered loopholes in the destruction; and I brought\nabout the strange and complex conditions for those prophecies to come to\npass. I ensured that Voldemort discovered a certain one of those\nprophecies, and so (even as I had feared) condemned your parents to\ndeath and made you what you are. I wrote a strange hint in your mother’s\nPotions textbook, having no idea why I must; and this proved to show\nLily how to help her sister, and ensured you would gain Petunia Evans’s\nheartfelt love. I sneaked invisibly into your bedroom in Oxford and\nadministered the potion that is given to students with Time-Turners, to\nextend your day’s cycle by two hours. When you were six years old I\nsmashed a rock that was on your windowsill, and to this day I cannot\nimagine why.All in the desperate hope that you can pass us through the eye of the\nstorm, somehow end this world and yet bring out its people alive.Now that you have passed the preliminary test of defeating Voldemort,\nI place my all in your hands, all the tools I can possibly give you. The\nLine of Merlin Unbroken, the command of the Order of the Phœnix, all my\nwealth and all my treasures, the Elder Wand of the Deathly Hallows, the\nloyalty of such of my friends as may heed me. I have left Hogwarts in\nMinerva’s care, for I do not think you will have time for it, but even\nthat is yours if you demand it from her.One thing I do not give you, and that is the prophecies. Upon the\nmoment of my departure, they will be destroyed, and no future ones will\nbe recorded, for it was said that you must not look upon them. If you\nthink this frustrating, believe me when I say that even your wit cannot\ncomprehend what frustration you have been spared. I will die, or be lost\nby you, or in some other way be taken from you—the prophecies are\nunclear, naturally—without ever once knowing what the future truly\nholds, or why I must do what I do. It is all cryptic madness and you are\nwell rid of it.There can only be one king upon the chessboard.There can only be one piece whose value is beyond price.That piece is not the world, it is the world’s peoples, wizard and\nMuggle alike, goblins and house elves and all.While survives any remnant of our kind, that piece is yet in play,\nthough the stars should die in heaven.And if that piece be lost, the game ends.Know the value of all your other pieces, and play to win.—Albus\nHarry held the parchment scroll for a long time, staring at\nnothing.\nSo.\nThere were times when the phrase ‘That explains it’ didn’t really\nseem to cover it, but nonetheless, that explained it.\nAbsently Harry rolled up the parchment scroll in his fist, still\nstaring at nothing.\n“What does it say?” said Amelia Bones.\n“It’s a confession letter,” Harry said. “Turns out Dumbledore’s the\none who killed my pet rock.”\n“This is not a time for jokes!” cried the elder witch. “Are\nyou the true holder of the Line of Merlin Unbroken?”\n“Yes,” Harry said absently, his mind occupied with thoughts that\nwere, by any objective quantification, overwhelmingly more\nimportant.\nThe old witch was sitting very still in her chair. She turned her\nhead, and locked eyes with Minerva McGonagall.\nMeanwhile Harry’s brain, which was juggling way too many\npossibilities over way too many time horizons, some of them involving\nliterally billions of years and stellar disassembly procedures, declared\ncognitive bankruptcy and started over.All right, what’s thefirstthing I have to do to save the world… no, make it even\nmore local, what do I have to dotoday… besides figuring out\nwhat to do, that is, and I’d better not delay before looking at whatever\nDumbledore left me in the Phœnix’s Egg room…\nHarry raised his eyes from the rolled-up parchment and looked at\nProfessor—at Headmistress McGonagall, at Mad-Eye Moody, and at the\nleathery-looking old witch, as though seeing them for the first time.\nThough he was in fact seeing Amelia Bones for mostly the first time.\nAmelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, whom\nAlbus Dumbledore had thought worthy to lead the Wizengamot at least\ntemporarily. Her cooperation would be invaluable, maybenecessary, for… for whatever was headed Harry’s way. Dumbledore\nhad chosen her, and he’d read prophecies Harry hadn’t seen.\nAmelia Bones, who had thought she’d been appointed regent over the\nLine of Merlin Unbroken and made the next Chief Warlock, only to find\nthat instead the position had gone to, apparently, an eleven-year-old\nboy.\nYou will now,said the voice of Hufflepuff inside his head,you will now be polite. You will not be your usual brand of bloody\nidiot. Because the fate of the world might just depend on it. Or not. We\ndon’t even know.\n“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” Harry Potter said, then paused\nto see what effect, if any, this polite statement had produced.\n“Minerva seems to think,” the old witch said, “that you will not take\noffense to honest words.”\nHarry nodded. His Ravenclaw part wanted to include the disclaimer\nabout that being different from people blatantly trying to push you down\nwhile crying that you were intolerant of criticism, but Hufflepuff\nvetoed. Whatever she had to say, Harry would hear.\n“I do not wish to speak ill of the departed,” the old witch said.\n“But since time immemorial, the Line of Merlin Unbroken has passed to\nthose who havethoroughlydemonstrated themselves to be, not\nonly good people, but wise enough to distinguish successors who are\nthemselves both good and wise. A single break, anywhere along the chain,\nand the succession might go astray and never return! It was a mad act\nfor Dumbledore to pass the Line to you at such a young age, even having\nmade it conditional upon your defeat of You-Know-Who. A tarnish upon\nDumbledore’s legacy, that is how it will be seen.” The old witch\nhesitated, her eyes still watching Harry. “I think it best that nobody\noutside this room ever learn of it.”\n“Um,” Harry said. “You… don’t think very much of Dumbledore, I take\nit?”\n“I thought…” said the old witch. “Well. Albus Dumbledore was a better\nwizard than I, a betterpersonthan I, in more ways than I can\neasily count. But the man had his faults.”\n“Because, um. I mean. Dumbledorekneweverything you just\nsaid. About my being young and how the Line works. You’re acting like\nyou think Dumbledore was unaware of those facts, or just ignoring them,\nwhen he made his decision. It’s true that sometimes stupid people, like\nme, make decisions that crazy. But not Dumbledore. He wasnotmad.” Harry swallowed, forcing a sudden moisture away from his eyes. “I\nthink… I’m beginning to realize… Dumbledore was the only sane person, in\nall of this, all along. Theonlyone who was doing the right\nthings for anything like the right reasons…”\nMadam Bones was cursing under her breath, low dire imprecations that\nwere making Minerva McGonagall twitch.\n“I’m sorry,” Harry said helplessly.\nMad-Eye was grinning, the scarred face twisting up in a smile.\n“Always knew Albus was up tosomethinghe never told the rest\nof us. Lad, you have no idea how hard it is for me not to use my Eye on\nthat scroll.”\nHarry quickly shoved the scroll into his mokeskin pouch.\n“Alastor,” Amelia said. The old witch’s voice was rising. “You are a\nman of sense, you cannot think the lad is able to fill Dumbledore’s\nsocks! Nottoday!”\n“Dumbledore,” Harry said, the name tasting strange on his tongue,\n“did make one wrong assumption, when he made his decisions. He thought\nwe’d be fighting Voldemort for years, all of us together. He didn’t know\nI’d vanquish Voldemort immediately. It was the right thing for me to do,\nit saved a lot of lives compared to fighting a long battle. But\nDumbledore thought you would have years to learn me, trust me… and\ninstead it was all over in an evening.” Harry inhaled. “Can’t you justpretendwe’ve been fighting Voldemort for years and I earned\nyour trust and everything? So that I’m not penalised for winning more\nquickly than Dumbledore expected?”\n“You are still a first-year in Hogwarts!” the old witch said. “Youcannottake Dumbledore’s place, whatever his intentions!”\n“Right, that whole ‘looking like an eleven-year-old’ thing.” Harry’s\nhand came up, rubbed at his nose where his glasses lay.I suppose I\ncould just use the Stone, change myself to look like ninety…\n“I am not a fool,” the old witch said. “I know you are no ordinary\nchild. I have seen you speak to Lucius Malfoy, watched you frighten off\na Dementor, and witnessed Fawkes grant your plea. Anyone with wisdom who\nsaw you before the Wizengamot—by which I mean myself and at most two\nothers—could guess that you had absorbed some portion of You-Know-Who’s\nshredded soul on the night of his undeath, but subdued it and turned his\nknowledge to good ends.”\nThere was a slight pause in the room.\n“Well, yes, of course,” said Minerva McGonagall. She sighed, slumped\na bit in the Headmistress’s chair. “As Albus clearly knewfrom the\nvery beginning, but thoughtfully declined to warn me aboutin\nany way whatsoever.”\n“Right,” Moody said. “I knew that. Yep. Perfectly obvious. Wasn’t\nconfused at all.”\n“I guess that’s close enough to the truth,” said Harry. “So, um.\nWhat’s the problem, exactly?”\n“The problem,” Amelia Bones said, her voice perfectly even, “is that\nyou are a bubbling, unstable blend of a Hogwarts first-year and\nYou-Know-Who.” She paused, as though waiting for something.\n“I’m getting better about that,” Harry said, since she seemed to be\nwaiting on his reply. “Quite rapidly, in fact. More importantly, it’s\nnot something Dumbledore didn’t know.”\nThe old witch continued. “Giving away your fortune and going in debt\nto Lucius Malfoy to keep your best friend out of Azkaban, as much as it\ndemonstrates your upstanding moral character, also demonstrates that you\ncannot corral the Wizengamot. I can see now that you did the right thing\nfor yourself, the thing you had to do to maintain your lease on sanity\nand hold back your inner darkness. But you also did a thing that\nMerlin’s heir must not do. A sentimental leader can be far worse than a\nselfish one. Albus, master and servant of a phœnix, was barely\nsurvivable—and even he opposed you that day.” Amelia gestured in the\ndirection of Mad-Eye Moody. “Alastor has hardness. He has cunning. He\nstill does not have the talent for government. You, Harry Potter, do not\nyet have the sternness, the capacity for sacrifice, to direct even the\nOrder of the Phœnix. And being what you are, youmust not tryto become that person. Not now, not at your age. Align and fuse your\ndivided soul in your own time, if you possibly can. Do not try to be\nChief Warlock while you are doing it. If Albus thought that was a good\nidea, he was crafting a nicer story at the expense of real-world\npracticality. I do think the man had a problem with that.”\nHarry’s eyes were a bit wide, listening to all this. “Um… what exactly\ndo you think is going on in here?” Harry tapped his head just above his\near.\n“I imagine that inside you is the soul of a boy who remains honest\nand true, gathering his will to force down the fragment of Voldemort’s\nspirit that tries to consume him, even as it howls at him that he is\nsentimental and weak—did you just giggle?”\n“Sorry. But seriously, it wasn’t everthatbad. More like\nhaving a lot of bad habits I needed to break.”\n“Ahem,” said Headmistress McGonagall. “Mr Potter, I think at the\nstart of this year itwasthat bad.”\n“Bad habits that chained into and triggered each other. Yes, those\nare a bit more of a problem.” Harry sighed. “And you, Madam Bones… er.\nSorry if I’m wrong about this. But my guess is that you’re feeling a bit\nupset that the Line went to an eleven-year-old?”\n“Not the way you are thinking,” the old witch said calmly. “Though it\nis natural for you to suspect me. The position of Chief Warlock is not\none I will find pleasant, even compared to the horrors of Magical Law\nEnforcement. Albus persuaded me on the matter, and I would say that I\ntook some convincing, but the truth is that I did not waste his time in\nan argument I expected to lose. I knew I would hate the task, and I knew\nI would do it anyway. Minerva says you have some amount of common sense,\nespecially when others remind you of it. Can you really see yourself\nstanding upon the Wizengamot’s high dais? Are you sure it is not some\nremnant of You-Know-Who that imagines himself suited to the position, or\neven desires it at all?”\nHarry took off his glasses and massaged his forehead. His scar still\nached a bit, from the damage he’d done by picking at it yesterday until\nit bled in a suitably dramatic fashion. “I do have some common sense,\nand yes, being Chief Warlock sounds like a huge amount of aggravation\nand a job that, in reality, does not fit me the tiniest bit. The trouble\nis. Um. I’m not sure the Line of Merlin is just about being Chief\nWarlock. There’s, um. I suspect… that there’s weird other stuff that goes\nalong with it. And that Dumbledore meant me to take responsibility for\nthe… other stuff. And that the other stuff is… possibly quiteamazinglyimportant.”\n“Crap,” Moody said. Then Alastor Moody repeated, “Crap. Kid, should\nyou even be saying this to us?”\n“I don’t know,” Harry said. “If there’s a user manual, I haven’t\nlooked at it yet.”\n“Crap.”\n“And if these other matters require sternness and sacrifice?” Amelia\nBones said, still calmly. “If they test you as you were tested before\nthe Wizengamot? I am old, Harry Potter, and I am not without knowledge\nof mysteries. You have seen how I was able to perceive your own nature\nat nearly a glance.”\n“Amelia,” Mad-Eye Moody said. “What would have happened if you’d had\nto fight You-Know-Who last night?”\nThe old witch shrugged. “I would have died, I expect.”\n“You’d havelost,” said Alastor Moody. “And the\nBoy-Who-Lived didn’t just take out Voldie, he set it up so that his good\nfriend Hermione Granger cameback from the deadat the same\ntime Voldie resurrected himself. There’s no way in hell or double hell\nthat was an accident, and I don’t think it was David’s idea either. Amy,\nthe truth is, none of us know what the keeper of Merlin’s legacy has todo. But we’re not the right kind of crazy for this crap.”\nAmelia Bones frowned. “Alastor, you know I’ve dealt with strange\nthings before. Dealt with them quite well, in my opinion.”\n“Yeah. Youdealt withthe crap so you could go back to real\nlife. You’re not the kind of crazy that builds a castle out of the crap\nand lives there.” Moody sighed. “Amy, on some level you know exactly why\nAlbus had to leave who-knows-what-job to the poor kid.”\nThe old witch’s fists clenched on the table. “Do you have any idea of\nthedisasterit would be for Britain? Call me sane, but I\ncannot accept that outcome! I have worked too long toward this day to\nsee it fall apart now,nowof all times!”\n“Excuse me,” Headmistress McGonagall said, sounding quite precise and\nScottish. “Is there any reason why Mr Potter cannot simply instruct the\nLine that Madam Bones is his regent for the position of Chief Warlock,\nbut not anything having to do with the Department of Mysteries, until he\ncomes of age? If Albus could tell the Line to appoint a regent only\nuntil Voldemort’s defeat, it is clearly capable of following complex\norders.”\nSlowly, this unexpected hammer blow of common sense was absorbed by\neveryone present.\nHarry opened his mouth to agree to appoint Amelia Bones his regent\nfor Wizengamot-related matters, and then hesitated again.\n“Um,” Harry said. “Um. Madam Bones, I would much prefer if you took\ncharge of handling the Wizengamot instead of me.”\n“In that we are agreed,” said the old witch. “Shall we let it be\ndone?”\n“But—”\nThere was a sort of frustrated dropping-back of the others. “What is\nthe problem, Mr Potter?” said the Headmistress, in a voice that\nindicated she hoped it was nothing serious.\n“Um. I think there’s a couple of things I might have to do very soon\nthat could… prove politically controversial, and in exchange for handing\nover the Line’s political power to Madam Bones I’m going to want her… um,\ncooperation on some things.”\nAmelia Bones exchanged another long stare with Minerva McGonagall.\nThen she looked back at Harry Potter.\n“I am indignant at your request!” Amelia Bones said. “Your hesitancy\nhas told me that you are weak and unused to bargaining, and will\nprobably fold if I push back.”\nHarry closed his eyes.\nSlightlydark-tinged Harry opened them.\n“All right,” Harry said, “let me rephrase. I don’t mean to interfere\nwith your work on a day-to-day or even month-to-month basis, but I can’t\njust toss off the final responsibility that Dumbledore left me. I’m not\ngoing to owl you bizarre parchments out of nowhere, there can be\ndiscussions first, but at some point I may have to give you an order. If\nyou refuse the order I might have to take back the Line’s Wizengamot\nfunctions and assume direct control. Can you handle that?”\n“And if I say no?” said the old witch.\nSlight, slight the dark tinge…“I don’t have an alternative\nto you lined up. I could start by asking Augusta Longbottom who she\nthought might be suitable and work from there. But it may be important\nthat we keep to Dumbledore’s plan as much as possible, since I don’t\nknow exactly why he did the things he did, and he thought Amelia Bones\nshould be Chief Warlock for a time. I’m not going to pull Merlin’s name\non you, but… no, strike that, Iamgoing to pull Merlin’s name\non you, this might or might not be insanely important.”\nThe old witch thought for a time, her eyes going from person to\nperson around the table. “I am not satisfied with this,” she said after\na time. “But the Wizengamot must be called to order soon. It will do for\nnow.”\nSlowly the old witch reached into her robes, and took out a short rod\nof stone, dark stone.\nShe placed the rod on the table before Harry. “Take what is yours,”\nshe said. “And then do please give it back.”\nHarry reached out his hand to take it.\nIn the moment that Harry’s fingers first touched the dark stone—\n—nothing happened.\nWell, perhaps Merlin hadn’t been given to melodrama. That could\nexplain why his final legacy looked like a small, unassuming dark rod.\nIf that was all that was needed for its function, that would be all that\nwas there.\nHarry took up the Line, frowning at it. “I’d like to appoint Amelia\nBones as my regent for Wizengamot-related functions.” Then, the thought\noccurring to him that he needed to specify a stopping point to define a\nregency, Harry added, “Until I say that I’ve taken it back.”\nThen Harry made a face. He’d been hoping for more from the Line, but\nit was just a key to places in the Department of Mysteries where\ninteresting things were kept, or to seals where Merlin and his\nsuccessors had stashed things that shouldn’t be destroyed but ought to\nbe kept from general circulation. Aside from that, the Line didn’t do\nmuch.\nThe Line didn’t let you bypass the Interdict of Merlin either. No,\nnot even if the fate of the galaxy was at stake. Not even if the person\nseemed sane, had taken an Unbreakable Vow, and honestly believed the\nworld was about to be destroyed otherwise.\nMerlin had dreamed of a long run, a world that would last for æons\nand not just centuries. The world had no reason not to lastforever, if the truly dangerous powers were removed and kept\ngone. Conversely, a single loophole in the safeguards made the world’s\ndestruction only a matter of time. Someday Merlin’s Line would pass to\nthe wrong person. It could reject the obviously unworthy, but eventually\nit would pass into hands too subtly flawed for the Line to detect. This\nwas inevitable, when dealing with human beings, and Harry needed to keep\nthat in mind before he sealed something where future Line-holders could\nretrieve it—the disaster of its inevitable misusesome dayneeded to be outweighed by its benefits over the next few thousand\nyears.\nHarry let out a sad small sigh, under his breath.Merlin, you\nidiot…\nThinking that didn’t unlock any final safeguards.\nThere wasn’t anything currently on fire in the Department of\nMysteries, so Harry carefully placed the Line back on the table.\n“Thank you,” the old witch said. She picked up the rod of dark stone.\n“Do you know how I am to use it to call the Wizengamot to order,\nor—never mind, I shall just try striking the podium. That seems obvious\nenough. To the rest of the country, of course, I am the Chief Warlock so\nfar as anyone knows except us four.”\nHarry hesitated. Then he imagined the owls he would receive if anyone\nknew he was allowed to second-guess the Chief Warlock, and what that\nwould do to Amelia’s negotiating power. “Fine.”\nAmelia tucked the rod back into her robes. “I will not say it was a\npleasure doing business with you, Boy-Who-Lived, but it could have been\nmuch worse. Thank you kindly for that.”\nHarry was already feeling worried about the exact balance of power\nhere, from the way Madam Bones was acting. The others had, quite\nlogically, deduced that it had been mostly David Monroe who’d planned\nthe way to defeating Voldemort, which meant they were still\nunderestimating him. It might take a crisis of some type, with Harry\nfiguring it out successfully for once instead of screwing up, before\nAmelia Bones started to respect his authority. Or believe in it at all,\nactually… “So,” Harry said. “Any weirdness for me that you would have\nbrought to Dumbledore while he was around?”\nAmelia looked thoughtful. “Since you ask… I can think of three things,\nindeed. First, we don’t have the faintest notion what ritual was used to\nsacrifice the Death Eaters and resurrect You-Know-Who. It corresponds to\nno known legend, and the magic traces from the ritual have been\neradicated. So far as my Aurors can tell, everyone’s heads fell off\ntheir necks due to natural causes. Except for Walden Macnair, who was\nkilled by magical fire after firing a Killing Curse from his wand. A\nvery mysterious ritual indeed.” She was giving Harry Potter a ratherpreciselook.\nHarry considered this, choosing his words carefully. Voldemort had\nsaid he’d put up wards, so Harry had been confident of not being\nobserved by Time-Turned Aurors, but still… “I think this is a matter you\ndon’t need to investigate too hard, Madam Bones.”\nThe old witch grinned slightly. “We can’t be seen to go easy on the\ninvestigation of so many Noble deaths, Harry Potter. When I heard retold\nyour particular account of David’s last stand, I made certain to send\ninvestigators whom I consideredreliablein the usual quality\nof their work. Auror Nobbs and Auror Colon, in fact, who are widely\nrespected outside my Department. I found their report to be quite\nfascinating reading.” Amelia paused. “There’s a possibility that\nAugustus Rookwood left a ghost—”\n“Exorcise it before anyone talks to it,” Harry said, conscious of the\nsudden hammering of his heart.\n“Yes, sir,” the old witch said dryly. “I shall disrupt the soul’s\nanchoring a little, and none shall be the wiser when it fails to\nmaterialize. The second matter is that there was a still-living human\narm found among the Dark Lord’s things—”\n“Bellatrix,” Harry said. His mind had leaped back, made the\nconnection that ongoing trauma had blurred. “I think that’s Bellatrix\nBlack’s arm.”Lesath Lestrange hadn’t been named as someone who’d\nlost a parent.“Oh, bloody hell. She’s still out there, isn’t she.\nCan you use her arm to track her down somehow?”\nAmelia Bones had acquired a sour look. “I see. As I was saying, a\nstill-living human arm was found among the Dark Lord’s things, but it\nproved to be easily incinerated.”\n“Whatidiot—” Harry stopped himself. “No,notan\nidiot. Because immediately destroying Dark objects is Department policy.\nBecause of past experiences with rings that really should’ve been\ndropped into volcanos immediately. Right?”\nMoody and Amelia nodded in unison. “Good guess, son,” said Moody.\nIt might seem literarily inevitable that Harry’s past stupidity was\ngoing to come back and haunt him in some horrible fashion later, but\nthat was no reason not to try subverting the plot. “I expect you’ve\nthought of this already,” Harry said, “but the obvious next step is to\nput out your equivalent of an international bulletin for a thin witch\nmissing her left arm. Oh, and add twenty-five thousand Galleons pledged\nfrom me—Headmistress, it’s fine, please trust me on this—to whatever\nreward is being offered.”\n“Well said.” The old witch leaned forward slightly. “The third and\nfinal matter… there was one truly puzzling element to last night’s\nevents, and I am curious to see what you make of it, Harry Potter. Found\namong the corpses was the head and the body of Sirius Black.”\n“What?” yelled Moody, starting half from his chair. “I\nthought he was in Azkaban!”\n“So he is,” said Madam Bones. “We checked that at once. The Azkaban\nguards reported that Sirius Black was still in his cell. Black’s head\nand body have been transported to the St. Mungo’s morgue, and show the\nsame cause of death as the other Death Eaters, that is to say, his head\nspontaneously fell off. I am also told that Sirius Black is, as of this\nmorning, sitting in the corner of his cell rocking back and forth with\nhis head between his hands. No other duplicate Death Eaters have been\nfound. Yet.”\nThere was a pause filled with ticking and whooping things, as people\nconsidered this.\n“Ah…” said Minerva. “That’s not possible even by You-Know-Who’s\nstandards of possibility. Is it?”\n“I would have thought so too when I was your age, dear,” said Amelia.\n“It is the sixth strangest thing I have ever seen.”\n“You see, son?” said Moody. “This sort of thing is why nobody, even\nme, can ever be paranoid enough.” The scarred man tilted his head,\nlooking thoughtful, as his bright-blue eye kept ever-roving. “Twin\nbrother, concealed from the rest of the world? Walpurga Black gave birth\nto twins, couldn’t bear to kill one, knew old Pollux would demand\nit… nah, ain’t buyin’ it.”\n“Any ideas, Mr Potter?” said Amelia Bones. “Or is this another matter\ninto which my Department should not inquire too closely?”\nHarry closed his eyes and thought.\nSirius Black had hunted down Peter Pettigrew, instead of fleeing the\ncountry as common sense would have suggested.\nBlack had been found in the middle of the street, surrounded by\nbodies, laughing.\nNothing left of Pettigrew except one finger.\nPettigrew had been a spy for the Light, not a double agent but\nsomebody who sneaked around and found things out.\nOne of the conspiracy theories about Pettigrew had been that he was\nan Animagus, since he’d been good at ferreting out secrets even in his\nHogwarts years.\nDementors sapped all the magic in their vicinity.\nProfessor Quirrell had said something about a particular type of\nmagic that rearranged flesh like a Muggle smith reshaping metal with\nhammer and tongs…\nHarry opened his eyes again.\n“Was Peter Pettigrew a secret Metamorphmagus?”\nAmelia Bones’s face changed. She made a single croaking noise and\nfell backward within her chair.\n“Yes, in fact…” Minerva said slowly. “Why?”\n“Sirius Black Confunded Peter Pettigrew,” Harry’s voice explained\npatiently, “to force him to change shape and pretend to be Black. By the\ntime the Confundus wore off, Peter was in Azkaban and couldn’t change\nback. The Aurors are used to people in Azkaban saying absolutely\nanything to get out, so they didn’t listen while Peter Pettigrew was\nscreaming about it over and over again until his voice wore out.”\nEven Mad-Eye Moody’s face showed the horror, then.\n“In retrospect,” said Harry’s voice, which seemed to be operating\nentirely on automatic, “you should have been suspicious when you managed\nto get thatoneDeath Eater hauled off to Azkaban without a\ntrial.”\n“We thought Malfoy was distracted,” whispered the old witch. “That he\nwas only trying to save himself. There were other Death Eaters we\nmanaged to get then, like Bellatrix—”\nHarry nodded, feeling like his neck and head were moving on puppet\nstrings. “The Dark Lord’s most fanatic and devoted servant, a natural\nnucleus of opposition for anyone who contested Lucius’s control of the\nDeath Eaters. You thought Lucius was distracted.”\n“Get him out of there,” said Minerva McGonagall. Her voice rose to a\nscream. “Get him out of there!”\nAmelia Bones shoved herself up from the chair, whirled on the\nFloo—\n“Stop.”\nEveryone looked at Harry with astonishment, none more than Minerva\nMcGonagall.\nSomething else seemed to have taken over Harry’s voice. “There’s four\nthings we still need to discuss. An innocent man has been in Azkaban for\nten years, eight months, and fourteen days. He can stay there a few\nminutes longer. That’s how urgent those four things are.”\n“You—” whispered Amelia Bones. “You should not try to be this person,\nat your age—”\n“First. I think I should look at the complete police records on every\nother Death Eater that went to Azkabanwhile Lucius was\ndistracted.Can you compile that by tonight?”\n“Within the hour,” said Amelia Bones. She looked grey.\nHarry nodded. “Second. Azkaban is over. You’ll need to start\npreparations now to move the prisoners to Nurmengard or other secure\nnon-Dementor prisons, and to provide treatment for their Dementor\nexposure.”\n“I,” said Amelia. The old witch seemed bent, diminished. “I… do not\nthink, that even with this… scandal, that the remainder of the Wizengamot\nwill bend… and the Dementors must be fed, not so much as we have fed\nthem, but they must be given some victims, or they will roam the world,\nprey on innocents…”\n“It doesn’t matter what the Wizengamot says,” Harry said. “Because—”\nHarry’s voice choked. “Because—” Harry took a deep breath, steadied\nhimself. He thought he could see the shape now of the immediate future,\ncould see it stretching out before him like a golden pathway lit with\nsunlight.Was this also written, in the book of Time that I must not\nsee?“Because if I’m right about what comes next, then sometime\nvery soon, Hermione Granger, the Girl-Who-Revived, is going to go to\nAzkaban and destroy all the Dementors there.”\n“Impossible!” spat Mad-Eye Moody.\n“Merlin,” whispered Amelia Bones. “Oh, dear Merlin. That’s what\nhappened to the Dementor that Dumbledore ‘lost’. That’s why they’re\nafraid of you—and now her as well?” Her voice trembled. “What is this,\nwhat is all this?”\nIf Hermione believes that Death can be defeated—\nWhether or not she could’ve believed that before, she’ll believe\nit now.\n“An authorized portkey to Azkaban would be appreciated—” Harry’s\nvoice broke again. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.\nShe can’t die. I have her horcrux.\nBut Hermione doesn’t need to know about that. Not for one more\nweek.\nIf she’s willing to risk her own life to end this—\n“Though I think, she might make, her own way there…”\n“Harry?” said Headmistress McGonagall.\nHarry was crying now, huge ragged breaths bursting from him. But he\ndidn’t stop talking. Somewhere out there Peter Pettigrew was waiting\nwhile Harry cried.\nSomewhere out there, everyone was waiting while he cried.\n“Third. Somewhere just inside the wards of Hogwarts. In a highly\ndefensible position. But where emergency cases can be portkeyed in from\njust outside the wards. There’s going to be a high-security\nh-h-hospital. With very powerful guards, that have taken Unbreakable\nVows, I don’t, I don’t care how much gold it takes to pay for the Vows,\nit genuinely does not matter any more. And, and Alastor Moody is going\nto design the security architecture, and go completely overboard on\nparanoia without being constrained by a budget or sanity or common\nsense, only it has to opensoon.” Couldn’t stop talking to\ncry.\n“Harry,” said the Headmistress, “both of them think you’ve gone mad,\nthey don’t know you well enough to know better. You need to slow down\nand explain.”\nInstead Harry reached into his pouch and signed letters with his\nfingers, and lifted out, his fingers straining, a five-kilo chunk of\ngold larger than his fist, from when he’d been experimenting this\nmorning. It made a heavy thud as it landed on the table.\nMoody reached over and tapped it with his wand, and then his throat\nmade an incomprehensible sound.\n“That’s your starting budget, Alastor, if you need money right away.\nNicholas Flamel didn’t make the Philosopher’s Stone, he stole it,\nDumbledore didn’t know the secret history but Monroe did. Once you know\nhow it works, the Stone can do one complete restoration to full health\nand youth every two hundred and thirty-four seconds. Three hundred sixty\npeople per day. One hundred and thirty-four thousand healings per year.\nThat should be enough to stop, all the wizards everywhere, and all the\ngoblins and house elves and whoever, from dying. Of old age, or anything\nelse.” Harry was wiping away tears, over and over. “Flamel had more\nblood on his hands than a hundred Voldemorts, for all the people he\ncould’ve saved and didn’t. The whole time, Moody, the Philosopher’s\nStone could’ve healed all your scars and given you back your leg, any\ntime Flamel felt like it. Dumbledore didn’t know. I’m sure he didn’t\nknow.” Harry smiled shakily. “I can’t imagine you as a teenage witch,\nMadam Bones, but I bet it looks good on you. That’ll give you more\nenergy for trying to keep the Wizengamot from messing with me, because\nif they get the idea that the Stone is something they can mess with in\nany way, tax, regulate, I don’t care, Hogwarts is going to secede from\nBritain and become its own country. Headmistress, Hogwarts is no longer\ndependent on the Ministry for gold, or for that matter food. You may\nreform the educational curriculum at will. I’m thinking we may want to\nadd some more advanced courses soon, especially in Muggle studies.”\n“Slowdown!” said Minerva McGonagall.\n“Fourth—” Harry said, and then stopped.\nFourth. Begin preparations for an orderly take-down of the\nStatute of Secrecy and to provide magical healing on a mass scale to the\nMuggle world. Those who oppose this agenda in any way may be denied\nservices by the Stone…\nHarry’s lips couldn’t move. Not wouldn’t,couldn’t.\nWith six billion Muggles thinking creatively about how to use\nmagic…\nTransfiguring antimatter was just one idea. It wasn’t even the most\ndestructive idea. There were also black holes and negatively charged\nstrangelets. And if black holes couldn’t be Transfigured because they\ndidn’talready existas magic defined that to within some\nspatial radius, there was just Transfiguring lots and lots of nuclear\nweapons and Black Death plague that could reproduce before the\nTransfiguration wore off and Harry hadn’t even thought about the problem\nfor five minutes but it didn’t matter because he’d already thought of\nenough. Someone would think of it, someone would talk, someone would try\nit. The probability was as close to certainty as made no difference.\nWhat happened if you Transfigured a cubic millimetre of up quarks,\njust the up quarks without any down quarks to bind them? Harry didn’t\neven know, and up quarks were certainly a kind of substance that already\nexisted. All it might take was one single Muggle-born who knew the names\nof the six quarks deciding to try it. That couldbethe clock\nticking down to the prophesied end of the world.\nHarry would have tried to deny the thought, rationalize it away.\nHe couldn’t do that either.\nIt wasn’t a thing-Harry-Potter-would-do.\nLike water flowing downhill, Harry Potter would take no chances when\nit came to not destroying the world.\n“Fourth?” said Amelia Bones, who was looking like she’d been hit\nrepeatedly in the face with a planet. “What comes fourth?”\n“Never mind,” said Harry. His voice did not break. He did not fold\nover sobbing. There were still lives he could save and those took\nprecedence. “Never mind. Chief Warlock Bones, I’ve given the regency of\nthe Wizengamot into your hands. Please use that position to announce\ninternationally that the Stone’s healing power will soon be made\navailable to all, and that meanwhile, all dying patients are to be kept\nalive at any cost, no matter what magic is required to do it. That\nannouncement is your absolute priority. When you have done that you may\nrescue Peter Pettigrew and tell your old Department to begin\npreparations for shutting down Azkaban. Then please have someone prepare\na full list of imprisoned Death Eaters and what was said at their trials\nand whether Lucius seemed strangely uninterested in defending them.\nThank you. That’s all.”\nAmelia Bones turned without another word, and dashed into the Floo\nlike it was her own self that was on fire.\n“And someone,” Harry said, his voice breaking again now that it was\nall set in motion, and crying wasn’t costing time, though the vast\nmajority of total lives at stake had turned out not to be savable just\nyet, “someone has to, someone tell Remus Lupin.”\n121. Something to Protect: Draco\nMalfoy\nE. Y.: Farewell, Terry Pratchett, 1948–2015. Your characters were an\ninspiration to me, and now I can see how much they taught me about Level\n1 and Level 3 Character Intelligence: that self-awareness often\nmanifests as humour or as genre-savviness; that an inner spark of\noptimization can shine just as brightly through characters who are told\n(but not shown) to be lowly and stupid; that intelligent characters can\ngo along with a spark of goodness and light running through a story,\nrather than cynicism. I wish I could have met you, and spoken with you\nabout your methods. You were loved by so many, and surely at least one\nperson who would tear apart the foundations of reality to bring you\nback; but your brain is dead and warm now, and so your story ends.Even if the stars should die in heaven,Our sins can never be undone.No single death will be forgivenWhen fades at last the last lit sun.Then in the cold and silent blackAs light and matter end,We’ll have ourselves a last look backAnd toast an absent friend.\nTheboy\nsat in an office near to where the once-Deputy Headmistress had held\ncourt. His tears had run dry hours ago. Now there was only the waiting\nto see what would become of him, the orphan ward of Hogwarts, whose life\nand happiness lay in the hands of his family’s enemies. The boy had been\ncalled to this room, and he had come because there was nothing else to\ndo and nowhere else to go. Vincent and Gregory had left his side, called\nback by their mothers for their fathers’ hurried funerals. Perhaps the\nboy should have gone with them, but he could not bring himself to do so.\nHe would not have been able to act the part of a Malfoy. The feeling of\nemptiness that filled him up was so profound that it left no room even\nfor pretended courtesy.\nEveryone was dead.\nHis father was dead, and his godfather Mr Macnair, and his fallback\ngodfather Mr Avery. Even Sirius Black, his mother’s cousin, had somehow\nmanaged to die, and the last remnant of House Black was no friend to any\nMalfoy.\nEveryone was dead.\nThere came a knock upon the office’s door; and then, when the boy\nmade no reply, the door opened, revealing—\n“Go away,” Draco Malfoy said to the Boy-Who-Lived. He couldn’t muster\nany force in the words.\n“I will soon,” Harry Potter said, as he stepped into the room. “But\nthere’s a decision to be made, and only you can make it.”\nDraco turned his head toward the wall, because just looking at Harry\nPotter took more energy than he had left in him.\n“You have to decide,” Harry said, “what happens to Draco Malfoy after\nthis. I don’t mean that in any ominous way. No matter what, you’re still\ngoing to grow up to be the rich heir of a Noble and Most Ancient House.\nThe thing is,” Harry’s voice was wavering now, “the thing is, there’s a\nhorrible truth you don’t know, and I keep thinking that if you knew,\nyou’d tell me not to be your friend any more. And I don’t want to stop\nbeing your friend. But to just—never tell you—and always maintain that\nlie so I can go on being your friend—I can’t do that. It’s also wrong. I\ndon’t… don’t want this any more, I don’t want to bemanipulatingyou. I’ve hurt you too much already.”\nThen stop trying to be my friend, you’re no good at it\nanyway.The words rose up into Draco’s consciousness, and were\nrejected from his lips. He felt like he’d mostly lost Harry already,\nfrom the games Harry had played with their friendship, the lies and\nmanipulations; and yet the thought of going back to Slytherin alone,\nmaybe without Vincent and Gregory if their mothers terminated the\narrangement… Draco didn’t want to do that, he didn’t want to go back to\nSlytherin and live out his life among only people who’d agreed to be\nSorted into Slytherin House. Draco was just with it enough to remember\nhow many of his real friends were also friends with Harry, that Padma\nwas a Ravenclaw and even Theodore was a Chaotic Lieutenant. All that\nremained of Malfoy House was a tradition, now; and that tradition said\nit wasn’t clever to tell the war’s victor to go away and stop trying to\nbe friends with you.\n“All right,” Draco said emptily. “Tell me.”\n“That’s what I’m going to do,” Harry said. “And then the Headmistress\nwill come in after I leave, and seal away your last half-hour of memory.\nBut before then, knowing the whole truth, you’ll get to decide whether\nyou still want to be involved with me.” Harry’s voice was shaking. “Um.\nAccording to the records I was reading through before I came here, the\nstory really began in 1926 with the birth of a half-blood wizard named\nTom Morfin Riddle. His mother died in childbirth, and he grew up in a\nMuggle orphanage, until his Hogwarts letter was brought to him by\nProfessor Dumbledore…”\nThe Boy-Who-Lived continued speaking, words that slammed into what\nwas left of Draco’s mind like falling houses.\nThe Dark Lord had been a half-blood. He’d never believed in blood\npurity for a fraction of a second.\nTom Riddle had come up with the idea of Lord Voldemort as a bad\njoke.\nThe Death Eaters had been meant to lose to David Monroe, so\nMonroe could take over.\nAfter giving up on that, Tom Riddle had gone on playing Voldemort\ninstead of actually trying to win, because he’d liked bossing the Death\nEaters around.\nVoldemort used me to try to frame Father for my attempted murder,\nthen used me again to go after the Philosopher’s Stone.Draco\ncouldn’t remember that part, but he’d already been told that he’d been\nused as a pawn alongside Professor Sprout, and that no charges would be\nfiled.\nAnd then the last horror.\n“You—” whispered Draco Malfoy. “You—”\n“I’m the one who killed your father and all the other Death Eaters\nlast night. They’d been told to open fire on me the moment I did\nanything, so I had to kill them in order to have a chance at dealing\nwith Voldemort, who was a danger to the entire world.” Harry Potter’s\nvoice was strained. “I didn’t think about you and Theodore and Vincent\nand Gregory, but if I had, I’d have done it anyway. My mind managed not\nto realise until afterwards that Mr White was Lucius, but if I’d\nrealised, I still wouldn’t have risked leaving him alive, in case he\nknew wandless magic. The thought occurred to me long before that it\nwould be pretty convenient, in terms of the political landscape, for all\nthe Death Eaters to suddenly die. I always thought that the Death Eaters\nwere horrible people, much more strongly than I ever let on to you,\nsince the first day we met. But if your father hadn’t been there, and\nI’d had a button that could kill him remotely, I wouldn’t have pressed\nthe button just for political reasons. The way I feel about what I’ve\ndone, and whether there’s remorse… well, there’s a part of me that’s\nscreaming in generic horror about having killed anyone. And another part\nthat says that from a moral standpoint, the Death Eaters signed away\ntheir lives on the day they signed up with Voldemort. They pointed their\nwands at me first, blah blah and so on. But right now I just feel sick\nabout what I’ve done to you. Again. I feel like,” Harry Potter’s voice\nwobbled a bit, “everything I do only hurts you, for all mygood\nintentions, that you’ve only ever lost things from being around me,\nso if you tell me to stay away entirely from Draco Malfoy after this,\nthen I will. And if you want me to try to be your friend for real this\ntime, without ever trying to manipulate you again, without ever using\nyou again or risking hurting you again, then I will, I swear I\nwill.”\nThe next Lord Malfoy was crying, openly in front of his enemy,\ndecorum and composure abandoned, because he didn’t have anyone left for\nwhose sake he could keep it.\nA lie.\nA lie.\nEverything had been a lie, it was all lies piled on top of lies, lies\nlies lies—\n“Youshould die,” Draco forced out. “You should die for\nhaving killed Father.” The words only filled him with more emptiness,\nbut they had to be said.\nHarry Potter just shook his head. “And if that’s not an option?”\n“You shouldhurt.”\nHarry only shook his head again.\nThe Boy-Who-Lived pressed the Lord Malfoy for his decision.\nThe Lord Malfoy refused to give it. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t\nbring himself to say it, either way. He didn’t want the war’s victor and\ntheir mutual friends to abandon him, and he wasn’t going to give Harry\nthe absolution he wanted, either.\nSo Draco Malfoy refused to answer, and then the time of that self’s\nmemory ended.\nThe boy sat in an office near to where the once-Deputy Headmistress\nhad held court. His tears had run dry hours ago. Now there was only the\nwaiting to see what would become of him, the orphan ward of Hogwarts,\nwhose life and happiness lay in the hands of his family’s enemies. The\nboy had been called to this room, and he had come, because there was\nnothing else to do, and nowhere else to go. Vincent and Gregory had left\nhis side, called back by their mothers for their fathers’ hurried\nfunerals. Perhaps the boy should have gone with them, but he could not\nbring himself to do so. He would not have been able to act the part of a\nMalfoy. The feeling of emptiness that filled him up was so profound that\nit left no room even for lies.\nEveryone was dead.\nEveryone was dead, and it had all been futile from the beginning.\nThere was a knock upon the office door, and then, after a polite\npause, it opened to reveal Headmistress McGonagall, dressed much as she\nhad dressed when she was a Professor. “Mr Malfoy?” his family’s\nvictorious enemy said. “Please come with me.”\nListlessly, Draco rose up, and followed her out of the office. Seeing\nHarry Potter waiting beside her gave him some pause, but then his mind\nsimply shut it out.\n“Here’s the last thing,” Harry Potter said. “I found it in a folded\nparchment whose outside said that it was the last weapon to be used\nagainst House Malfoy, telling me not to read any further until the whole\nwar hung in the balance. I didn’t want to tell it to you before because\nI thought it might prejudice your decision unfairly. If you were a good\nperson who never killed or lied, but you had to do one or the other,\nwhich would be worse?”\nDraco ignored him and continued in Headmistress McGonagall’s company,\nleaving Harry behind looking sadly after.\nThey came to the Headmistress’s old office, where she lit her\nFloo-fire with a wave of her wand, said to the green flame “Gringotts\ntravel office” and stepped through after a firm glance in his\ndirection.\nFor lack of any other option, Draco Malfoy followed.\nShe lay in bed, feeling more listless than usual that morning, awoken\ntoo early with the Sun just beginning to rise—though the direct sunlight\nwas blocked by the skyscrapers that shadowed her house. A faint tinge of\nhangover gnawed at her temples, dried her mouth; she tried to be sparing\nwith the drink (though she didn’t know why she bothered) but yesterday\nshe’d felt… even more depressed than usual, like she’d lost something,\nsomehow. Not for the first time, not for the hundredth time, she thought\nabout moving—to Adelaide, to Perth, maybe to Perth Amboy if that was\nwhat it took. She always had the sense there was somewhere else she\nought to be; but while she could live a comfortable life on the payments\nthe insurance company made to her, she couldn’t afford luxuries. She\ncouldn’t pay to go gallivanting around the world looking for somewhere\nthat fit her unsatisfied sense of belonging. She’d watched the TV for\nlong enough, she’d rented enough travelogues, to know that nowhere the\nVCR showed her gave her any more sense of rightness than Sydney.\nShe’d felt frozen, stopped in time, ever since the traffic accident\nthat had stolen her memories—not just of a dead family that meant\nnothing to her now, but memories like how a stove worked. She suspected,\nno, sheknew, that whatever her heart was waiting for, whatever\nkey needed to turn inside her to make her life begin moving again, it\nwas one more thing she’d lost to that runaway minivan. She thought about\nthat almost every morning, trying to guess what she was missing,\nmissing, missing from her life and mind.\nSomebody rang her doorbell.\nShe groaned, turning her head far enough to look at the LED alarm\nclock at the side of her bed. 6:31, it said, with the AM dot lit.Seriously?Well, that idiot could wait while she staggered out\nof bed at her own pace, then.\nStagger out of bed she did, ignoring the doorbell as it rang again,\nas she ducked into the bathroom and dressed herself.\nShe clambered down the stairs, ignoring the ever-nagging sense that\nsomeone else ought to be answering her door for her. “Who’s there?” she\ncalled to the closed door; the door had a peep-hole, but it was fogged\nover.\n“Are you Nancy Manson?” came a woman’s voice, speaking in a precise\nScottish accent.\n“Yes,” she said cautiously.\n“Eunoe,” spoke the Scottish voice, and Nancy leapt back in\nshock as a flash of light came from the door andhither\nand…\nNancy swayed, putting a hand to her forehead. Flashes of light just\ngoing through doors and hitting people, that was… that was… that wasn’t\nparticularly surprising…\n“Would you please open the door?” said the Scottish woman’s voice.\n“The war is over and your memories should be returning shortly. There’s\nsomeone here who ought to see you.”\nMy memories—\nNancy’s head was already feeling clogged, like she was about to start\nhacking something out of her brain, but she managed to reach out and\nyank the door open.\nThere in front of her was a woman dressed as a(perfectly\nnormal)witch, from black robes to tall pointed hat—\n—and standing beside her a boy, with short white-blonde hair and\nwearing(perfectly normal)dark robes trimmed in green, staring\nat her with his jaw dropped and eyes wide and beginning to fill with\ntears.\nGreen-trimmed robes and white-blonde hair…\nSomething warm stirred in her memory. She felt her heart rising into\nher throat as she realized that the thing that she’d been looking for\nthese past ten years might be right in front of her this very instant.\nSomewhere deep inside her, ice was cracking around her heart, the piece\nof her that had been stopped for so long preparing to move once\nmore.\nThe boy was staring at her, his mouth working soundlessly.\nA mysterious name came into her mind, rose to her lips.\n“Lucius?” she whispered.\n122. Something to Protect:\nSeverus Snape\nAsombre\nmood pervaded the Headmistress’s office. Minerva had returned after\ndropping off Draco and Narcissa/Nancy at St. Mungo’s, where the Lady\nMalfoy was being examined to see if a decade living as a Muggle had done\nany damage to her health; and Harry had come up to the Headmistress’s\noffice again and then… not been able to think of priorities. There was somuchto do, so many things, that even Headmistress McGonagall\ndidn’t seem to know where to start, and certainly not Harry. Right now\nMinerva was repeatedly writing words on parchment and then erasing them\nwith a hand-wave, and Harry had closed his eyes for clarity. Was there\nanynextfirst thing that needed to happen…\nThere came a knock upon the great oaken door that had been\nDumbledore’s, and the Headmistress opened it with a word.\nThe man who entered the Headmistress’s office appeared worn, he had\ndiscarded his wheelchair but still walked with a limp. He wore black\nrobes that were simple, yet clean and unstained. Over his left shoulder\nwas slung a knapsack, of sturdy grey leather set with silver filigree\nthat held four green pearl-like stones. It looked like a thoroughly\nenchanted knapsack, one that could contain the contents of a Muggle\nhouse.\nOne look at him, and Harry knew.\nHeadmistress McGonagall sat frozen behind her new desk.\nSeverus Snape inclined his head to her.\n“What is the meaning of this?” said the Headmistress,\nsounding… heart-sick, as if she’d known, at a glance, just like Harry\nhad.\n“I resign my position as the Potions Master of Hogwarts,” the man\nsaid simply. “I will not stay to draw my last month’s salary. If there\nare students who have been particularly harmed by me, you may use the\nmoney for their benefit.”\nHe knows.The thought came to Harry, and he couldn’t have\nsaid in words justwhatthe Potions Master now knew; except\nthat it was clear that Severus knew it.\n“Severus…” Headmistress McGonagall began. Her voice sounded hollow.\n“Professor Severus Snape, you may not realize how difficult it is to\nfind Potions Masters who can safely teach Muggle-borns, or Professors\nsharp enough to keep Slytherin House in any semblance of order…”\nAgain the man inclined his head. “I think it need not be said to you,\nHeadmistress, but I recommend in the strongest possible terms that the\nnext Head of Slytherin be nothing like me.”\n“Severus, you only did as Albus told you to do! You could stay on and\nact differently!”\n“Headmistress,” Harry said. His own voice seemed also hollow, and\nHarry wondered at it, for he hadn’t known Severus Snape that well. “If\nhe wants to go, I think you should let him go.”\nDumbledore was using him. Maybe not exactly the way Professor\nQuirrell thought, maybe it was prophecy rather than sabotaging\nSlytherin, but Dumbledore was still using him. There were things that\ncould have been said long ago to Severus, to free him. It’s clear why\nDumbledore didn’t risk that, but still, Severus wasn’t being used\nkindly. Even his blindness and grief were being used, the way he didn’t\ngrasp the consequences of his actions as Potions Master…\n“It is well to find you here, Mr Potter,” Severus said. “There is\nunfinished business between us.”\nHarry didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.\nSeverus seemed to be having some difficulty speaking, as he stood\nbefore the two of them with the grey knapsack on his shoulder. Finally\nhe seemed to find the words he’d come to speak. “Your mother. Lily. She\nwas—”\n“I know,” Harry said, through the thickness of his throat. “You don’t\nhave to say it.”\n“Lily was a fine upstanding witch, Mr Potter. I would not have you\nthink otherwise from any words I said to you.”\n“Severus?” said Minerva McGonagall, looking as shocked as if\nshe’d been bitten by her own shoes.\nThe former Potions Master kept his eyes on Harry. “More than one bar\nlay between myself and Lily, most notably my ill-advised attempts to\ncurry favour with the purebloods of my house. If I made it sound like\none mistake upon a muddy field ended it all, if I pretended that she had\nno reason but shallowness not to love me, I hope your books have also\ntold you why fools may say such things.”\n“They did,” Harry said. He was looking at the fine grey knapsack on\nSeverus Snape’s left shoulder, unable to meet the Potions Master’s eyes.\n“They did.”\n“However,” the former Potions Master continued, “I’m afraid I have\nnothing more to say about your father than what I’ve already told\nyou.”\n“Severus!”\nThe former Potions Master seemed to have eyes only for Harry. “The\nDark Mark upon my arm is not dead, nor is the prophecy fulfilled by that\nstory you recounted before the crowd. How did you destroy all but a\nremnant of the Dark Lord?”\nHarry hesitated. “I Obliviated most of his memories and… sealed him, I\nguess is how wizards say it. Even if the seal breaks, he won’t come back\nas himself.”\nSeverus frowned briefly and then shrugged. “I suppose that is\nacceptable.”\n“Professor Snape,” Harry said, because this too was now his\nresponsibility, “the Order of the Phœnix owes you for services rendered.\nI’m in an excellent position to repay it, both financially and\nmagically. Just in case you want to start your next life in a position\nof wealth, or with better hair, or something.”\n“Strange words to say to such as me,” the former Potions Master said\nin a soft drawl. “I went to the Dark Lord intending to sell him the\nprophecy in exchange for Lily’s love becoming mine, by whatever darkness\nwas required to achieve it. That is hardly something to be forgiven\nlightly. And then, in the years after when I was a Potions Master… that\nyou experienced yourself. Do you think my service to the Order of the\nPhœnix has repaid all my sins?”\n“People are always broken,” Harry said, though the words stuck in his\nthroat. “They always make mistakes. At least you tried to repay\nthem.”\n“Perhaps,” said the former Potions Master. “My final duty was to fail\nin guarding the Stone, to be struck down. This I have done, and I\nsurvived it, which I never expected to do.” Severus was leaning against\nthe door through which he’d entered, taking his weight off his left leg.\n“I would not have thought to ask for your forgiveness, but since you\noffer it so freely, I will accept with thanks. From this day on I wish\nto take less unkindly ways, and I think that is best done by starting\nover.”\nTears glistened on Minerva McGonagall’s nose and cheeks, when she\nspoke her voice was without hope. “Surely you could start over inside\nHogwarts.”\nSeverus shook his head. “Too many students would remember me as the\nevil Potions Master. No, Minerva. I will go somewhere new, and take a\nnew name, and find someone new to love.”\n“Severus Snape,” Harry said, because it was his responsibility to say\nit, “has all your will been done?”\n“Lily’s killer is vanquished,” the man said. “I am content.”\nThe Headmistress lowered her head. “Be well, Severus,” she\nwhispered.\n“I do have one last piece of advice,” Harry said. “If you want\nit.”\n“What is it?” said Severus Snape.\n“Ruminating about the past can contribute to depression. You have my\nblanket permission to just never think about your past, ever. You\nshouldn’t think that it’s your responsibility to Lily to bear your guilt\nfor her, or anything like that. Just keep your mind on your future and\nwhatever new people you meet.”\n“I shall take your wisdom into consideration,” Severus said\nneutrally.\n“Also, try a different brand of hair shampoo.”\nA wry grin crossed Severus’s face, and Harry thought it might have\nbeen, for the first time, that man’s true smile. “Drop dead,\nPotter.”\nHarry laughed.\nSeverus laughed.\nMinerva was sobbing.\nWithout saying anything else, the free man took a pinch of Floo\npowder, and cast it into the office’s fireplace, and strode into the\ngreen flame whispering something that nobody caught; and that was the\nlast that anyone ever heard of Severus Snape.\n123. Something to Protect:\nHermione Granger\nAndit\nwas evening and it was morning, the last day. June 15th, 1992.\nThe beginning light of morning, the pre-dawn before sunrise, was\nbarely brightening the sky. To the east of Hogwarts, where the Sun would\nrise, that faintest tinge of grey made barely visible the hilly horizon\nbeyond the Quidditch stands.\nThe stone terrace-platform where Harry now sat would be high enough\nto see the dawn beyond the hills below; he’d asked for that, when he was\ndescribing his new office.\nHarry was currently sitting cross-legged on a cushion, chilly\npre-morning breezes stirring over his exposed hands and face. He’d\nordered the house elves to bring up the hand-glittered throne from his\nprevious office as General Chaos… and then he’d told the elves to put it\nback, once it had occurred to Harry to start worrying about where his\ntaste in decorations had come from and whether Voldemort had once\npossessed a similar throne. Which, itself, wasn’t a knockdown\nargument—it wasn’t like sitting on a glittery throne to survey the lands\nbelow Hogwarts wasunethicalin any way Harry’s moral\nphilosophy could make out—but Harry had decided that he needed to take\ntime and think it through. Meanwhile, simple cushions would do well\nenough.\nIn the room below, connected to the rooftop by a simple wooden\nladder, was Harry’s new office inside Hogwarts. A wide room, surrounded\nby full-wall windows on four sides for sunlight; currently bare of\nfurnishings but for four chairs and a desk. Harry had told Headmistress\nMcGonagall what he was looking for, and Headmistress McGonagall had put\non the Sorting Hat and then told Harry the series of twists and turns\nthat would take him where he wanted to be. High enough in Hogwarts that\nthe castle shouldn’t have been that tall, high enough in Hogwarts that\nnobody looking from the outside would see a piece of castle\ncorresponding to where Harry now sat. It seemed like an elementary\nprecaution against snipers that there was no reasonnotto\ntake.\nThough, on the flip side, Harry had no idea where he currentlywasin any real sense. If his office couldn’t be seen from the\nlands below, then how was Harry seeing the lands, how were photons\nmaking it from the landscape to him? On the western side of the horizon,\nstars still glittered, clear in the pre-dawn air. Were those photons the\nactual photons that had been emitted by huge plasma furnaces in the\nunimaginable distance? Or did Harry now sit within some dreaming vision\nof the Hogwarts castle? Or was it all, without any further explanation,\n‘just magic’? He needed to get electricity to work better around magic\nso he could experiment with shining lasers downward and upward.\nAnd yes, Harry had his own office on Hogwarts now. He didn’t have any\nofficial title yet, but the Boy-Who-Lived was now a true fixture of the\nHogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the soon-to-be-home of the\nPhilosopher’s Stone and the world’s only wizarding institution of\ngenuinely higher education. It wasn’t fully secured, but Professor\nVector had put up some preliminary Charms and Runes to screen the office\nand its rooftop against eavesdropping.\nHarry sat on his cushion, near the edge of his office’s roof, and\ngazed down upon trees and lakes and flowering grass. Far below,\ncarriages sat motionlessly, not yet harnessed to skeletal horses. Small\nboats littered the shore, prepared to ferry younger students across the\nlake when the time came. The Hogwarts Express had arrived overnight, and\nnow the carriages and the huge old-fashioned engine awaited on the other\nside of the southern lake. All was ready to take the students home after\nthe Leave-Taking Feast in the morning.\nHarry stared across the lake, at the great old-fashioned locomotive\nhe wouldn’t be riding home this time. Again. There was a strange sadness\nand worry to that thought, like Harry was already starting to miss out\non the bonding experiences withthe other students his age—if\nyou could say that at all, when a significant part of Harry had been\nborn in 1926. It had felt to Harry, last night in the Ravenclaw common\nroom, like the gap between him and the other students had, yes, widened\neven further. Though that might only have been from the questions Padma\nPatil and Anthony Goldstein had excitedly asked each other about the\nGirl-Who-Revived, the rapid-fire speculations shooting through the air\nfrom Ravenclaw to Ravenclaw. Harry had known the answers, he’d known all\nthe answers, and he hadn’t been able to say them.\nThere was a part of Harry that was tempted to go on the Hogwarts\nExpress and then come back to Hogwarts by Floo. But when Harry imagined\nfinding five other students for his compartment, and then spending the\nnext eight hours keeping secrets from Neville or Padma or Dean or Tracey\nor Lavender… it didn’t seem like an attractive prospect. Harry felt like\nhe ought to do it for reasons of Socializing with the Other Children,\nbut he did notwantto do it. He could meet with everyone again\nat the start of the next school year, when there would be other topics\nof which he could speak more freely.\nHarry stared south across the lake, at the huge old locomotive, and\nthought about the rest of his life.\nAbout the Future.\nThe prophecy Dumbledore’s letter had mentioned about him tearing\napart the stars in heaven… well,thatsounded optimistic. That\npart had an obvious interpretation to anyone who’d grown up with the\nright sort of upbringing. It described a future where humanity had won,\nmore or less. It wasn’t what Harry usually thought about when he gazed\nat the stars, but from a trulyadultperspective, the stars\nwere enormous heaps of valuable raw materials that had unfortunately\ncaught fire and needed to be scattered and put out. If you were tapping\nthe huge hydrogen-helium reservoirs for raw materials, that meant your\nspecies had successfully grown up.\nUnless the prophecy had been referring to something else entirely.\nDumbledore might have been misinterpreting some seer’s words… but his\nmessage to Harry had been phrased as if there’d been a prophecy about\nHarrypersonallytearing apart stars, in the foreseeable\nfuture. Which seemed potentially more worrisome, though by no means\ncertain to be true, or a bad thing if it was true…\nHarry vented a sigh. He’d begun to understand, in the long hours\nbefore sleep had taken him last night, just what Dumbledore’s last\nmessage implied.\nLooking back on the events of the 1991–1992 Hogwarts school year was\nnothing short of bone-freezingly terrifying, now that Harry understood\nwhat he was seeing.\nIt wasn’t just that Harry had kept the frequent company of his good\nfriend Lord Voldemort. It wasn’t evenmostlythat.\nIt was the vision of a narrow line of Time that Albus Dumbledore had\nsteered through fate’s narrow keyhole, a hair-thin strand of possibility\nthreaded through a needle’s eye.\nThe prophecies had instructed Dumbledore to have Tom Riddle’s\nintelligence copied onto the brain of a wizarding infant who would then\ngrow up learning Muggle science. What did it say about the likely shape\nof the Future, ifthatwas the first or best strategy the seers\ncould find thatdidn’tlead to catastrophe?\nHarry could look back now on the Unbreakable Vow that he’d made, and\nguess that if not for that Vow, disaster might have already been set in\nmotion yesterday when Harry had wanted to tear down the International\nStatute of Secrecy. Which in turn strongly suggested that the many\nprophecies Dumbledore had read and whose instructions he’d followed, had\nsomehow ensured that Harry and Voldemort would collide inexactly\nthe rightway to cause Voldemort to force Harry to make that\nUnbreakable Vow. That the Unbreakable Vow had been part of Time’s narrow\nkeyhole, one of the improbable preconditions for allowing the Earth’s\npeoples to survive.\nA Vow whose sole purpose was to protect everyone from Harry’s currentstupidity.\nIt was like watching a videotape of an almost-traffic-accident that\nhad happened to you, where you remembered another car missing you by\ncentimetres, and the video showing that somebody hadalsothrown a pebble in exactly the right way to cause an enormous lorry to\nmiss that near-collision, and if they hadn’t thrown that pebble then you\nand all your family in the car and yourentire planetwould\nhave been hit by the lorry, which, in the metaphor, represented your ownsheer obliviousness.\nHarry had beenwarned, he’dknownon some level or\nthe Vow wouldn’t have stopped him, and yet he’dstillalmost\nmade the wrong choice and destroyed the world. Harry could look back now\nand see that, yes, the alternate Harry with no Vow would’ve had trouble\naccepting the reasoning that said you couldn’t get magical healing to\nMuggles as fast as possible. If the alternate Harry had acknowledged the\ndanger at all, he would have rationalized it, tried to figure out some\nclever way around the problem and refused to accepttaking a few\nyears longer to do it, and so the world would have ended. Even\nafter all the warnings Harry had received, itstillwouldn’t\nhave worked without the Unbreakable Vow.\nOne tiny strand of Time, being threaded through a needle’s eye.\nHarry didn’t know how to handle this revelation. It wasn’t a sort of\nsituation that human beings had evolved emotions to handle. All Harry\ncould do was stare at how close he had come to disaster, might comeagainto disaster if that Vow was fated to trigger more than\nonce, and think…\nThink…\n‘I don’t want that to happen again’ didn’t seem like the right\nthought. He’d neverwantedto destroy the world in the first\nplace. Harry hadn’t lacked for protective feelings about Earth’s sapient\npopulation, those protective feelings had been theproblemin a\nway. What Harry had lacked was some element of clear vision, of being\nwilling to consciously acknowledge what he’d already known deep\ndown.\nAnd the whole thing with Harry having spent the last year cosying up\nto the Defence Professor didn’t speak highly of his intellect either. It\nseemed to point to the same problem, even. There were things Harry had\nknown or strongly suspected on some level, but never promoted to\nconscious attention. And so he had failed and nearly died.\nI need to raise the level of my game.\nThat was the thought Harry was looking for. He had to do better than\nthis, become a less stupid person than this.\nI need to raise the level of my game, or fail.\nDumbledore had destroyed the recordings in the Hall of Prophecy and\narranged for no further recordings to be made. There’d apparently been a\nprophecy that said Harry mustn’t look upon those prophecies. And the\nobvious next thought, which might or might not be true, was that saving\nthe world wasbeyond the reach of prophetic instruction. That\nwinning would take plans that were too complex for seers’ messages, or\nthat Divination couldn’t see somehow. If there’d been some way for\nDumbledore to save the world himself, then prophecy would probably have\ntold Dumbledore how to do that. Instead the prophecies had told\nDumbledore how to create the preconditions for a particular sort of\nperson existing; a person, maybe, who could unravel a challenge more\ndifficult than prophecy could solve directly. That was why Harry had\nbeen placed on his own, to think without prophetic guidance. If all\nHarry did was follow mysterious orders from prophecies, then he wouldn’t\nmature into a person who could perform that unknown task.\nAnd right now, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres was still a walking\ncatastrophe who’d needed to be constrained by an Unbreakable Vow to\nprevent him fromimmediatelysetting the Earth on an inevitable\ncourse toward destructionwhen he’d already been warned against\nit. That had happenedliterally yesterday, just one day\nafter he’d helped Voldemort almost take over the planet.\nA certain line from Tolkien kept running through Harry’s mind, the\npart where Frodo upon Mount Doom put on the ring, and Sauron suddenly\nrealized what acomplete idiothe’d been. ‘And the magnitude of\nhis own folly was at last laid bare’, or however that had gone.\nThere was a huge gap between who Harry needed to become, and who he\nwas right now.\nAnd Harry didn’t think that time, life experience, and puberty would\ntake care of that automatically, though they might help. Though if Harry\ncould grow into an adult that was tothisself what a normal\nadult was to a normal eleven-year-old, maybethatwould be\nenough to steer through Time’s narrow keyhole…\nHe had to grow up, somehow, and there was no traditional path laid\nout before him for accomplishing that.\nThe thought came then to Harry of another work of fiction, more\nobscure than Tolkien:\nYou can only arrive at mastery by practising the techniques you\nhave learned, facing challenges and apprehending them, using to the\nfullest the tools you have been taught, until they shatter in your hands\nand you are left in the midst of wreckage absolute… I cannot create\nmasters. I have never known how to create masters. Go, then, and\nfail… You have been shaped into something that may emerge from the\nwreckage, determined to remake your Art. I cannot create masters, but if\nyou had not been taught, your chances would be less. The higher road\nbegins after the Art seems to fail you; though the reality will be that\nit was you who failed your Art.\nIt wasn’t that Harry had gone down thewrongpath, it wasn’t\nthat the road to sanity lay somewhere outside of science. But reading\nscience papers hadn’t beenenough. All the cognitive psychology\npapers about known bugs in the human brain and so on hadhelped, but they hadn’t beensufficient. He’d failed\nto reach what Harry was starting to realise was ashockinglyhigh standard of being so incredibly, unbelievably rational that you\nactually started toget things right, as opposed to having a\nhandy language in which to describe afterwards everything you’d just\ndone wrong. Harry could look back now and apply ideas like ‘motivated\ncognition’ to see where he’d gone astray over the last year. That\ncounted for something, when it came to being saner in the future. That\nwas better than having no idea what he’d done wrong. But that wasn’t yet\nbeing the person who could pass through Time’s narrow keyhole, the adult\nform whosepossibilityDumbledore had been instructed by seers\nto create.\nI need to think faster, grow up faster… How alone am I, how alone\nwill I be? Am I making the same mistake I made during Professor\nQuirrell’s first battle, when I didn’t realise Hermione had captains?\nThe mistake I made when I didn’t tell Dumbledore about the sense of\ndoom, once I realised Dumbledore probably wasn’t mad or evil?\nIt would help if Muggles had classes for this sort of thing, but they\ndidn’t. Maybe Harry could recruit Daniel Kahneman, fake his death,\nrejuvenate him with the Stone, and put him in charge of inventing better\ntraining methods…\nHarry took the Elder Wand out of his robes, gazed again at the\ndark-grey wood that Dumbledore had passed down to him. Harry hadtriedto think faster this time, he’d tried to complete the\npattern implied by the Cloak of Invisibility and the Resurrection Stone.\nThe Cloak of Invisibility had possessed the legendary power of hiding\nthe wearer, and the hidden power of allowing the wearer to hide from\nDeath itself in the form of Dementors. The Resurrection Stone had the\nlegendary power of summoning an image of the dead, and then Voldemort\nhad incorporated it into his horcrux system to allow his spirit to move\nfreely. The second Deathly Hallow was a potential component of a system\nof true immortality that Cadmus Peverell had never completed, maybe due\nto his having ethics.\nAnd then there was the third Deathly Hallow, the Elder Wand of\nAntioch Peverell, that legend said passed from wizard to stronger\nwizard, and made its holder invincible against ordinary attacks; that\nwas the known and overt characteristic…\nThe Elder Wand that had belonged to Dumbledore, who’d been trying to\nprevent the Death of the world itself.\nThe purpose of the Elder Wand always going to the victor might be to\nfind the strongest living wizard and empower them still further, in case\nthere was any threat to their entire species; it could secretly be a\ntool to defeat Death in its form as the destroyer of worlds.\nBut if there was some higher power locked within the Elder Wand, it\nhad not presented itself to Harry based on that guess. Harry had raised\nup the Elder Wand and spoken to it, named himself a descendant of\nPeverell who accepted his family’s quest; he’d promised the Elder Wand\nthat he would do his best to save the world from Death, and take up\nDumbledore’s duty. And the Elder Wand had answered no more strongly to\nhis hand than before, refusing his attempt to jump ahead in the story.\nMaybe Harry needed to strike his first true blow against the Death of\nworlds before the Elder Wand would acknowledge him; as the heir of\nIgnotus Peverell had already defeated Death’s shadow, and the heir of\nCadmus Peverell had already survived the Death of his body, when their\nrespective Deathly Hallows had revealed their secrets.\nAt least Harry had managed to guess that, contrary to legend, the\nElder Wand didn’t contain a core of ‘Thestral hair’. Harry had seen\nThestrals, and they were skeletal horses with smooth skin and no visible\nmane on their skull-like heads, nor tufts on their bony tails. But what\ncore was truly inside the Elder Wand, Harry hadn’t yet felt himself\nknowing; nor had he been able to find, anywhere on the Elder Wand, the\ncircle-triangle-line of the Deathly Hallows that should have been\npresent.\n“I don’t suppose,” Harry murmured to the Elder Wand, “you could just\ntell me?”\nThere came back no answer from the globe-knobbed wand; only a sense\nof glory and contained power, watching him skeptically.\nHarry sighed, and put the most powerful wand in the world back into\nhis school robes. He’d get it eventually, and hopefully in time.\nMaybe faster, if there was someone to help him do the research.\nHarry was aware on some level—no, he needed to stop being aware of\nthingson some leveland start just being aware of them—Harry\nwas explicitly and consciously aware that he was ruminating about the\nFuture mostly to distract himself from the imminent arrival of Hermione\nGranger. Who would receive a clear bill of health from St. Mungo’s, when\nshe woke up very early this morning, and who would then Floo with\nProfessor Flitwick back to Hogwarts. Whereupon she’d tell Professor\nFlitwick that she needed to speak with Harry Potter immediately. There’d\nbeen a note from Harry to himself about that, when Harry had woken up\nlater this morning with the sun already risen in the Ravenclaw dorm.\nHe’d read the note, and then Time-Turned back to before the dawn hour\nwhen Hermione Granger would arrive.\nShe won’t actually be angry with me.\n…\nSeriously. Hermione isn’t that kind of person. Maybe she was at\nthe start of the year but she’s too self-aware to fall for that one\nnow.\n…\nWhat do you mean, ‘…’? If you have something to say, inner voice,\njust say it! We’re trying to be more aware of our own thought processes,\nremember?\nThe sky had gone full blue-grey, dawn barely short of sunrise, by the\ntime that Harry heard the sound of footsteps coming from the ladder that\nopened into his new office. Hastily Harry stood up and began to brush\noff his robes; and then, realising what he was doing, stopped the\nnervous motions. He’d just defeated Voldemort, damn it, he ought not to\nbe this nervous.\nThe young witch’s head and chestnut curls appeared in the opening and\npeered around. Then she rose up higher, seemed almost to run up the\nladder steps, like she was walking along an ordinary pavement but\nvertically; Harry could have blinked and missed it, how her shoe came\ndown on the top rung of the ladder and then she leaped lightly onto the\nroof an instant later.\nHermione.Harry’s lips moved around the word, but made no\nsound.\nThere’d been something Harry had meant to say, but it had gone right\nout of his mind.\nMaybe a quarter of the minute passed, on the rooftop, before Hermione\nGranger spoke. She was wearing a blue-edged uniform now, and the\nblue-bronze-striped tie of her proper House.\n“Harry,” said Hermione Granger, a terribly familiar voice that almost\nbrought tears to Harry’s eyes, “before I ask you all the questions, I’d\nlike to start by saying thank you very much for, um, whatever it is you\ndid. I mean it, really. Thank you.”\n“Hermione,” Harry said, and swallowed. The phrasemay I have\npermission to hug you,which Harry had imagined using for his\nopening line, seemed impossible to say. “Welcome back. Hold on while I\nput up some privacy spells.” Harry took the Elder Wand out of his robes,\ngot a book from his pouch that he opened to a bookmark, and then\ncarefully pronounced “Hominem Revelio,” along with two other\nrecently-acquired security Charms that Harry had found himself barely\nable to cast if he wielded the Elder Wand. It wasn’t much, but it was\nmarginally better security than just relying on Professor Vector.\n“You have Dumbledore’s wand,” Hermione said. Her voice was hushed,\nand sounded as loud as an avalanche in the still dawn air. “And you can\nuse it to cast fourth-year spells?”\nHarry nodded, making a mental note to be more careful who else saw\nhim do that. “Is it okay if I hug you?”\nHermione moved lightly over to him; her movements were peculiarly\nswift, more graceful than they’d been before. Her motions seemed to\nradiate an air of something pure and untouched, reminding Harry again of\nhow peaceful Hermione had looked when she was sleeping on Voldemort’s\naltar—\nRealization hit Harry like a ton of bricks, or at least a kilogram of\nbrick.\nAnd Harry hugged Hermione, feeling how veryaliveshe\nseemed. He felt like crying, and suppressed it, because he didn’t know\nwhether that was just her aura affecting him or not.\nHermione’s arms around him were gentle, exceedingly light in their\npressure, as if she were being deliberately careful not to snap his body\nin half like a used toothpick.\n“So,” Hermione said, once Harry had let go of her. Her young face\nlooked very serious, as well as pure and innocent. “I didn’t tell the\nAurors you were there, or that it was Professor Quirrell and not\nYou-Know-Who who killed all the Death Eaters. Professor Flitwick only\nlet them give me one drop of Veritaserum, so I didn’t have to say. I\njust told them the troll was the last thing I remembered.”\n“Ah,” Harry said. He had somehow found himself staring at Hermione’s\nnose instead of her eyes. “What do you think happened, exactly?”\n“Well,” Hermione Granger said thoughtfully, “I got eaten by a troll,\nwhich I’d frankly rather not do again, and then there was a really loudbangand my legs were back, and I was lying on a stone altar in\nthe middle of a graveyard in a dark moonlit forest I’d never seen\nbefore, with somebody’s severed hands clutched around my throat. So you\nsee, Mr Potter, finding myself in a situation that weird and dark and\nscary, I wasn’t going to make the same mistake I did last time with\nTracey. I knewright awaythat it was you.”\nHarry nodded. “Good call.”\n“I said your name, but you didn’t answer,” said Hermione. “I sat up\nand one of the bloody hands slid down over my shirt, leaving little bits\nof flesh behind. I didn’t scream though, even when I looked around and\nsaw all the heads and bodies and realized what the smell was.” Hermione\nstopped, took another deep breath. “I saw the skull masks and realized\nthat the dead people had been Death Eaters. I knew right away that the\nDefence Professor had been there with you and killed them all, but I\ndidn’t notice Professor Quirrell’s body was also there. I didn’t realize\nit was him even when I saw Professor Flitwick checking the body. He\nlooked… different, when he was dead.” Hermione’s voice became quieter.\nShe looked humbled somehow, in a way Harry couldn’t often remember\nseeing. “They said David Monroe sacrificed his life to bring me back,\nthe same way your mother sacrificed herself for you, so that the Dark\nLord would explode again when he tried to touch me. I’mprettysure that’s not the whole truth, but… I’ve thought a lot of nasty things\nabout our Defence Professor that I never should’ve thought.”\n“Um,” Harry said.\nHermione nodded solemnly, her hands clasped in front of her as though\nin penitence. “I know you’re probably too nice to say the things to me\nthat you have a right to say now, so I’ll say them for you, Harry. You\nwere right about Professor Quirrell, and I was wrong. You told me so.\nDavid Monroe was a little bit Dark and a whole lot Slytherin, and it was\nchildish of me to think that was the same thing as being evil.”\n“Ah…” Harry said. This was very hard to say. “Actually, the rest of\nthe world doesn’t know this part, not even the Headmistress. But in\npoint of fact you were one hundred and twelve percent correct about him\nbeing evil, and I’ll remember for future reference that although ‘Dark’\nand ‘evil’ may not technically be the same thing, there’s a great big\nstatistical correlation.”\n“Oh,” said Hermione, and fell silent again.\n“You’re not saying that you told me so?” said Harry. His mental model\nof Hermione was yelling:I told you so! Didn’t I\ntell you so, Mr Potter? Didn’t I tell you? Professor Quirrell is\neeeeviiil, I said, butyou didn’t listen to me!\nThe actual Hermione just shook her head. “I know you cared about him\na lot,” she said softly. “Since I was right after all… I knew you’d\nprobably be hurting a lot after Professor Quirrell turned out to be\nevil, and that it wouldn’t be a good time to say I told you so. I mean,\nthat’s what I decided when I was thinking that part through several\nmonths earlier.”\nThank you, Miss Granger.Harry was glad she’d said that\nmuch, though, it just wouldn’t have felt like Hermione otherwise.\n“So, Mr Potter,” said Hermione Granger, tapping her fingers on her\nrobe at around thigh level. “After the medi-witch drew my blood, it\nstopped hurting right away, and when I brushed away the little bit of\nblood on my arm, I couldn’t find where the needle had poked me. I bent\nsome of the metal in my bed frame without trying hard, and though I\nhaven’t had a chance to test it yet, I feel like I should be able to run\nreallyfast. My fingernails are pearly white and shiny even\nthough I don’t remember painting them. And my teeth look like that too,\nwhich, being the daughter of dentists, makes me nervous. So it’s not\nthat I’m ungrateful, but just what exactly did you do?”\n“Um,” Harry said. “And I’m expecting you’re also wondering why you’re\nradiating an aura of purity and innocence?”\n“I’mwhat?”\n“That part wasn’t my idea. Honestly.” Harry’s voice went small.\n“Please don’t kill me.”\nHermione Granger raised her hands in front of her face, staring\nsomewhat cross-eyed at her fingers. “Harry, are you saying… I mean, my\nradiating innocence and being all fast and graceful and my teeth being\npearly white… is italicornmy fingernails are made of?”\n“Alicorn?”\n“It’s the term for unicorn horn, Mr Potter.” Hermione Granger seemed\nto be trying to nibble her fingernails, and not having much luck. “So, I\nguess if you bring a girl back from the dead she ends up as, what did\nDaphne call it, a Sparkling Unicorn Princess?”\n“That’s not exactly what happened,” Harry said, though it was\nfrighteningly close.\nHermione took her finger out of her mouth, frowning at it. “I can’t\nbite through it either. Mr Potter, did you consider the problems now\nthat it’s literally impossible for me to trim my fingernails and\ntoenails?”\n“The Weasley twins have a magical sword that should work,” Harry\nvolunteered.\n“I think,” Hermione Granger said firmly, “that I would like to know\nthe whole story behind all this, Mr Potter. Because knowing you and\nknowing Professor Quirrell, there was some sort ofplangoing\non.”\nHarry took a deep breath. Then he exhaled. “Sorry, it’s… classified. I\ncould tell you if you studied Occlumency, but… do you want to?”\n“Do I want to study Occlumency?” Hermione said, looking slightly\nsurprised. “That’s at least a sixth-year thing, isn’t it?”\n“I learned it,” Harry said. “I started with an unusual boost, but I\ndoubt that really mattered in the long run. I mean, I’m sure you could\nlearn calculus if you studied hard, regardless of what age Muggles\nusually learn it. The question is, um.” Harry was having to control his\nbreathing. “The question is, do you still want to do… that kind of\nstuff.”\nHermione turned, and looked at where the sky was lightening in the\neast. “You mean,” she said quietly, “do I still want to be a hero now\nthat it’s earned me a horrible death that one time.”\nHarry nodded, then said “Yes” because Hermione wasn’t turning toward\nhim, though the word felt blocked in his throat.\n“I’ve been thinking about that,” Hermione said. “It was, in fact, an\nexceptionally gruesome and painful death.”\n“I, um. I did set some things upjust in caseyou still\nwanted to be a hero. There were some short windows of opportunity where\nI didn’t have time to consult you, I couldn’t let you see me because I\nexpected you to be given Veritaserum later. But if you don’t like it, I\ncan undo most of what I did and you can just ignore the rest.”\nHermione nodded distantly. “Like making everyone think that I… Harry,didI actually do anything to You-Know-Who?”\n“No, that was all me, though please don’t tell anyone that. Just so\nyou know, that time the Boy-Who-Lived supposedly defeated Voldemort, on\nthe night of Halloween in 1981, that was Dumbledore’s victory and he let\neveryone think it was me. So now I’ve defeated a Dark Lord once, and had\nthe credit for it once. It all balances out eventually, I guess.”\nHermione went on gazing to the east. “I’m not really comfortable with\nthis,” she said after a while. “People thinking I defeated the Dark Lord\nVoldemort, when I haven’t done anything at all… oh, that’s the same thing\nyou went through, isn’t it?”\n“Yeah. Sorry about inflicting that on you. I was… well, I was trying\nto create a separate identity for you in people’s minds, I guess. There\nwas just the one opportunity and everything was sort ofrushedand… I realized afterwards that maybe I shouldn’t have, but it was too\nlate.” Harry cleared his throat. “Though, um. If you’re feeling like you\nwant to do something that’s actually worthy of the way people think\nabout the Girl-Who-Revived, um. I might have an idea for what you can\ndo. Very soon, if you want.”\nHermione Granger was giving him alook.\n“But you don’thaveto!” Harry said hastily. “You can just\nignore this whole thing and be the best student in Ravenclaw! If that’s\nwhat you prefer.”\n“Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me, Mr Potter?”\n“No! Honestly!” Harry took a deep breath. “I’mtryingnot to\ndecide your life for you. I thought I saw, yesterday, I thought I saw\nwhat might come next for you—but then I remembered how much of this year\nI’d spent being a total idiot. I thought of some things Dumbledore said\nto me. I realized it genuinely wasn’t my place to say. That you could do\nanything you wanted with your life, and that above all, the choice had\nto be your own. Maybe youdon’twant to be a hero after this,\nmaybe you want to become a great magical researcher because that’s who\nHermione Granger really was all along, never mind what your fingernails\nare made out of now. Or you could go to the Salem Witches’ Institute in\nAmerica instead of Hogwarts. I won’t lie and say I’d like that, but it\nreally is up to you.” Harry turned to the horizon and swept his hand\nwide, as though to indicate all the world that lay beyond Hogwarts. “You\ncan goanywherefrom here. You can doanythingwith\nyour life. If you want to be a wealthy sixty-year-old merman, I can make\nit happen. I’m serious.”\nHermione nodded slowly. “I’m curious about how you’d do that exactly,\nbut what I want isn’t to have things doneforme.”\nHarry sighed. “I understand. Um…” Harry hesitated. “I think… if it\nhelps you to know… in my case, things were being arranged for me alot. By Dumbledore, mostly, though Professor Quirrell too.\nMaybe the power to earn your own way in life is itself something you\nhave to earn.”\n“Why, that sounds very wise,” Hermione said. “Like my parents paying\nfor me to go to university, so I can some day get my own job. Professor\nQuirrell bringing me back to life as a Sparkling Unicorn Princess and\nyou telling everyone that I offed the Dark Lord Voldemort is just like\nthat, really.”\n“Iamsorry,” Harry said. “I know I should’ve done it\ndifferently, but… I didn’t have much time to plan and I was exhausted and\nnot really thinking straight—”\n“I’m grateful, Harry,” Hermione said, her voice softer now. “You’re\nbeing too harsh on yourself, even. Please don’t take it so seriously\nwhen I’m sarcastic to you. I don’t want to be the sort of girl who comes\nback from the dead, and then starts complaining about which superpowers\nshe got and that her alicorn fingernails are the wrong shade of pearly\nwhite.” Hermione had turned, was again gazing off at the east. “But,\nMr Potter… if Idodecide that dying a horrible death isn’t\nenough to make me rethink my life choices… not that I’m saying that just\nyet… then what happens next?”\n“I do my best to support you in your life choices,” Harry said\nfirmly. “Whatever they are.”\n“You have a quest already lined up for me, I’m guessing. A nice safe\nquest where there’s no chance of my getting hurt again.”\nHarry rubbed his eyes, feeling tired inside. It was like he could\nhear the voice of Albus Dumbledore inside his head.Forgive me,\nHermione Granger…“I’m sorry, Hermione. If you go down that path\nI’m going to have to Dumbledore you, and not tell you some things.\nManipulate you, if only for a short while. I do believe there’s\nsomething you might be able to do now, something real, something worthy\nof the way people are thinking about the Girl-Who-Revived… that you might\nhave a destiny, even… but in the end that’s just a guess, I know a lot\nless than Dumbledore did. Are you willing to risk the life you just got\nback?”\nHermione turned to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise.\n“Risk my life?”\nHarry didn’t nod, because that would have been outright lying. “Are\nyou willing to do that?” Harry said instead. “The quest that I think\nmight be your destiny—and no, I don’t know any specific prophecies, it’s\njust a guess—involves literal descent-into-Hell type stuff.”\n“I thought…” Hermione said. She sounded uncertain. “I thought for\nsure that after this, you and Professor McGonagall wouldn’t… you know… let\nme do anything the least bit dangerous ever again.”\nHarry said nothing, feeling guilty about the false relationship\ncredit he was getting. It was in fact the case that Hermione was\nmodelling him with tremendous accuracy, and that if not for Hermione\nhaving a horcrux, the surface of the planet Venus would have dropped to\nfractional-Kelvin temperatures before Harry tried this.\n“On a scale of zero to a hundred,howliteral a descent into\nHell are we talking about here?” said Hermione. The girl now looked a\nbit worried.\nHarry mentally calibrated his scales, remembering Azkaban. “I’d say\nmaybe eighty-seven?”\n“This sounds like something I should do when I’molder,\nHarry. There’s a difference between being a hero and being a complete\nlunatic.”\nHarry shook his head. “I don’t think the risk would change much,”\nHarry said, leaving aside the question of how much risk that really was,\n“and it’s the sort of thing that’s better done sooner, if someone does\nit at all.”\n“And my parents don’t get a vote,” Hermione said. “Or do they?”\nHarry shrugged. “We both know how they’d vote, and you can take that\ninto account if you like. Um, I said for Mr and Mrs Granger not to be\ntold yet that you’re alive. They’ll find out after you come back from\nyour mission, if you choose to accept it. That seems a bit… kinder on\nyour parents’ nerves, they just get the one pleasant surprise, instead\nof having to worry about, um, stuff.”\n“Why, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Hermione said. “It’s nice that\nyou’re so concerned about their feelings. May I think about this for a\nfew minutes, please?”\nHarry gestured toward the cushion he’d set down opposite his own, and\nHermione moved over with fluid grace, and sat down to look out over the\ncastle-edge, still radiating peacefulness all over the place. They’d\nreally need to do something about that, maybe pay someone to invent an\nAnti-Purity Potion.\n“Do I have to decide without knowing what the mission is?” Hermione\nasked.\n“Ohhellno,” Harry said, thinking of a similar conversation\nbefore his own trip to Azkaban. “This is the sort of thing you have to\nchoose freely if you do it at all. I mean that’s an actual mission\nrequirement. If you say that you still want to be a hero, I’ll tell you\nafterwards about the mission—after you’ve had some time to eat and talk\nto people and recover a bit—and you’ll decide then if it’s something you\nwant to do. And we’ll test in advance whether returning from death has\nallowed you to cast the spell that normal wizards think is impossible,beforeyou go out.”\nHermione nodded, and fell back into silence.\nThe sky had lightened further by the time Hermione spoke again.\n“I’m afraid,” Hermione said, almost in a whisper. “Not of dying\nagain, or notjustthat. I’m afraid I won’t be good enough. I\nhad my chance to defeat a troll, and instead I just died—”\n“That was a troll empowered by Voldemort as a weapon, plus he\nsabotaged all your magic items, just so you know.”\n“I died. And you killed the troll, somehow, I think I remember that\npart, it didn’t even slow you down.” Hermione wasn’t crying, no tears\nglistened on her cheeks, she simply gazed off at the lightening sky\nwhere the Sun would rise. “And then you brought me back from the dead as\na Sparkling Unicorn Princess. IknowI couldn’t have done that.\nI’m afraid I’llneverbe able to do that, no matter what people\nthink about me.”\n“This situation is where your journey begins, I think—” Harry paused.\n“Excuse me, I shouldn’t be trying to influence your decision.”\n“No,” Hermione whispered, still gazing at the hills below her. She\nraised her voice. “No, Harry, I want to hear this.”\n“Okay. Um. I think this is where youstart. Everything\nthat’s happened up until now… it places you in the same place I started\nout in September, when I’d thought of myself as just being a child\nprodigy before, and then I found something new I needed to live up to.\nIf you weren’t comparing yourself to me and my,”adult cognitive\npatterns copied off Tom Riddle,“dark side… then you’d be the\nbrightest star of Ravenclaw, who organized her own company to fight\nschool bullies and kept her sanity under assault by Voldemort, all while\nshe was only twelve years old. I looked it up, you got better grades\nthan Dumbledore did inhisfirst year.”Leaving aside the\nDefence grade, because that was just Voldemort being Voldemort.“Now you have some powers, and a reputation to live up to, and the world\nis about to hand you some difficult tasks. That’s where it allbeginsfor you, the same as it began for me. Don’t sell\nyourself short.” And then Harry shut his mouth hard, because he wastalking Hermione into itand that wasn’t right. He’d at least\nmanaged to stop before the part where he asked, ifshecouldn’t\nbe a hero with all that going for her, who exactly she thought was going\nto do it.\n“You know,” Hermione said to the horizon, still not looking at Harry,\n“I had a conversation like this with Professor Quirrell, once, about\nbeing a hero. He was taking the other side, of course. But apart from\nthat, this is feeling like when he argued with me, somehow.”\nHarry kept his lips pressed shut. Letting people make their own\ndecisions was hard, because it meant they were allowed to make thewrongones, but it still had to be done.\nHermione spoke carefully, the blue fringes of her Hogwarts uniform\nnow seeming brighter against her black robes as the sky all around them\nbecame illuminated; there were no more stars in the west. “Professor\nQuirrell told me, he said he’d been a hero once. But people weren’t\nhelping him enough, so he gave up and went off to do something more\ninteresting. I told Professor Quirrell that it hadn’t been right for him\nto do that—what I actually said was ‘that’s horrible’. Professor\nQuirrell said that, yes, maybe he was an awful person, but then what\nabout all the other people who’d never tried to be heroes at all? Were\nthey even worse than him? And I didn’t know what to say back. I mean,\nit’s wrong to say that only Gryffindor-style heroes are good\npeople—though I think from Professor Quirrell’s perspective it was more\nlike only people with big ambitions had a right to breathe. And I didn’t\nbelieve that. But it also seemed wrong tostopbeing a hero, to\nwalk away like he’d done. So I just stood there looking silly. But now I\nknow what I should’ve told him back then.”\nHarry controlled his breathing.\nHermione stood up from her cushion, and turned to face Harry. “I’m\ndone with trying to be a heroine,” said Hermione Granger with the\neastern sky brightening around her. “I shouldn’t ever have gone along\nwith that entire line of thinking. There are just people who do what\nthey can, whatever they can. And there are also people who don’t even\ntry to do what they can, and yes, those people are doing something\nwrong. I’m not ever going to try to be a hero again. I’m not going tothinkin heroic terms if I can help it. But I won’t do any less\nthan I can—or not a lot less, I mean, I’m only human.” Harry had never\nunderstood what was supposed to be mysterious about the Mona Lisa, but\nif he could have taken a picture of Hermione’s resigned/joyous smile\njust then, he had the sense that he could have looked at it for hours\nwithout understanding, and that Dumbledore could have read through it at\na glance. “I won’t learn my lesson. Iwillbe that stupid. I’ll\ngo on trying to do most of what I can, or at leastsomeof what\nI can—oh, you know what I mean. Even if it means risking my life again,\nso long as it’s worth the risk and isn’t being, you know,actuallystupid. That’s my answer.” Hermione took a deep\nbreath, her face resolute. “So, is there something I can do?”\nHarry’s throat was choked. He reached into his pouch, and signed\nC-L-O-A-K since he couldn’t speak, and drew forth the fuliginous spill\nof the Cloak of Invisibility, offering it to Hermione for the last time.\nHarry had to force the words from his throat. “This is the True Cloak of\nInvisibility,” Harry said in almost a whisper, “the Deathly Hallow\npassed down from Ignotus Peverell to his heirs, the Potters. And now to\nyou—”\n“Harry!” Hermione said. Her hands flew up across her chest, as though\nto protect herself from the attacking gift. “You don’t have to do\nthis!”\n“Idohave to do this. I’ve left the part of the path that\nlets me be a hero, I can’t risk myself adventuring, ever. And you… can.”\nHarry reached up the hand that wasn’t holding the Cloak, and wiped at\nhis eyes. “This was made for you, I think. For the person you’re going\nto become.”A weapon to fight Death, in its form as the shadow of\ndespair that falls on human minds and drains away their hope for the\nfuture; you will fight that, I expect, in more forms than just\nDementors…“I do not loan you, my Cloak, but give you, unto\nHermione Jean Granger. Protect her well for evermore.”\nSlowly, Hermione reached out, and took hold of the Cloak, looking\nlike she was trying not to cry herself. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I\nthink… even though I’m done with the notion of heroing… I think that you\nalways were, from the day I met you, my mysterious old wizard.”\n“And I think,” Harry said, his own throat half-closed, “even if you\ndeny that way of thinking now, I think that you were always destined to\nbecome, from the very beginning of the story, the hero.”Who must\nHermione Granger become, what adult form must she take when she grows\nup, to pass through Time’s narrow keyhole? I don’t know the answer to\nthat either, any more than I can imagine my own adult self. But her next\nfew steps ahead seem clearer than mine…\nHarry let the Cloak go, and it passed from his hands to hers.\n“It sings,” Hermione said. “It’s singing to me.” She reached up, and\nwiped at her own eyes. “I can’t believe you did that, Harry.”\nHarry’s other hand came out of his pouch, now bearing a long golden\nchain, at the end of which dangled a closed golden shell. “And this is\nyour personal time machine.”\nThere was a pause, during which the planet Earth rotated a bit\nfurther in its orbit.\n“What?” said Hermione.\n“A Time-Turner, they call it. Hogwarts has a stock they give out to\nsome students, I got one at the start of the year to treat my sleep\ndisorder. It lets the user go backwards in time, in up to six one-hour\nincrements, which I used to get six extra hours per day to study. And to\nvanish out of Potions class and so on. Don’t worry, a Time-Turner can’t\nchange history or generate paradoxes that destroy the universe.”\n“You were keeping up with me in lessons by studying six extra hours\nper day using atime machine.” Hermione Granger seemed to be\nhaving trouble with this concept for some unaccountable reason.\nHarry made his face look puzzled. “Is there something odd about\nthat?”\nHermione reached out and took the golden necklace. “I guessnot\nby wizard standards,” she said. For some reason her voice sounded\nrather sharp. She arranged the chain around her neck, placing the\nhourglass inside her shirt. “I do feel better now about keeping up with\nyou, though, so thank you for that.”\nHarry cleared his throat. “Also, since Voldemort wiped out the House\nof Monroe and then, so far as everyone believes, you avenged them by\nkilling Voldemort, I got Amelia Bones to railroad a bill through what’s\nleft of the Wizengamot, saying that Granger is now a Noble House of\nBritain.”\n“Excuse me?” said Hermione.\n“That also makes you the only scion of a Noble House, which means\nthat to get your legal majority you just need to pass your Ordinary\nWizarding Levels, which I’ve set us up to do at the end of the summer so\nwe’ll have some time to study first. If you’re okay with that, I\nmean.”\nHermione Granger was making some sort of high-pitched noise that\nwould, in a less organic device, have indicated an engine malfunction.\n“I have two months to study for my O.W.L.s?”\n“Hermione, it’s a test designed so that most fifteen-year-olds can\npass.Ordinaryfifteen-year-olds. We can get a passing grade\nwith a low third-year’s power level if we learn the right set of spells,\nand that’s all we need for our majorities. Though you’ll need to come to\nterms with getting Acceptable scores instead of your usual\nOutstandings.”\nThe high-pitched noises coming from Hermione Granger rose in\npitch.\n“Here’s your wand back.” Harry took it from his pouch. “And your\nmokeskin pouch, I made sure they put back everything that was there when\nyou died.” That pouch Harry withdrew from a normal pocket of his robes,\nsince he was reluctant to put abag of holdinginside abag\nof holdingno matter what was supposed to be harmless so long as\nboth devices had been crafted observing all safety precautions.\nHermione took her wand back, and then her pouch, the motions somehow\nmanaging to look graceful even though her fingers were a bit shaky.\n“Let’s see, what else… the oath you swore before to House Potter only\nsaid you had to serve until ‘the day you die’, so you’re now free and\nclear. And right after your death I got the Malfoys to publicly declare\nthat you were innocent of all charges in Draco’s attempted murder.”\n“Why, thank you again, Harry,” said Hermione Granger. “That was very\nnice of you, and them too, I guess.” She was repeatedly running her\nfingers through her chestnut curls, as though, by organizing her hair,\nshe could restore sanity to her life.\n“Last but not least, I had the goblins start the process of building\na vault in Gringotts for House Granger,” Harry said. “I didn’t put any\nmoney into it, because that was something where I could wait and ask you\nfirst. But if you’re going to be a superhero who goes around righting\ncertain kinds of wrongs, it will help a lot if people consider you to be\npart of the upper social strata and, um, I think it may help if they\nknow you can afford lawyers. I can put in as much gold into your vault\nas you want, since after Voldemort killed Nicholas Flamel, I ended up\nholding the Philosopher’s Stone.”\n“I feel like I ought to be fainting,” Hermione said in a high-pitched\nvoice, “only I can’t because of my superpowers andwhydo I\nhave those again?”\n“If it’s all right with you, your Occlumency lessons will start on\nWednesday with Mr Bester, he can work with you once per day. Until then,\nI think it might be better for the true origin of your powers not to\nbecome known just because a Legilimens looks you in the eyes. I mean,\nobviously there’s a normal magical explanation, nothingsuper-supernatural, but people do tend to worship their own\nignorance and, well, I think the Girl-Who-Revived will be more effective\nif you remain mysterious. Once you can keep out Mr Bester and beat\nVeritaserum, I’ll tell you the entire backstory, I promise, including\nall the secrets you can never tell anyone else.”\n“That sounds lovely,” said Hermione Granger. “I’m quite looking\nforward to it.”\n“Though you’ll need to take an Unbreakable Vow to not do anything\nthat might destroy the world before I can tell you the more dangerous\nparts of the story. I mean, I literally can’t tell you otherwise,\nbecause I took an Unbreakable Vow myself. Is that okay?”\n“Sure,” said Hermione. “Why shouldn’t it be okay? I wouldn’t want to\ndestroy the world anyhow.”\n“Do you need to sit down again?” Harry said, feeling alarmed by the\nway Hermione was swaying slightly, as though in rhythm with the words\nbeing spoken.\nHermione Granger took several deep breaths. “No, I’m perfectly\npeachy,” she said. “Is there anything else I should know about?”\n“That was it. I’m finished, at least for now.” Harry paused. “I do\nunderstand that you want to do things for yourself, not just have them\ndone for you. It’s just… you’re going to be a more serious kind of hero,\nand the only sane choice is for me to give you all the advantages I can\nmanage—”\n“I understand that quite well,” Hermione said. “Now that I’ve\nactually lost a fight and died. I didn’t used to understand, but now I\ndo.” A breeze ruffled Hermione’s chestnut hair and stirred her robes,\nmaking her look even more peaceful in the dawn air, as she raised one\nhand and carefully clenched it into a fist. “If I’m going to do this,\nI’m going to do itright. We need to measure how hard I can\npunch, and how high I can jump, and figure out a safe way to test if my\nfingernails can kill Lethifolds like a real unicorn’s horn, and I should\npractise using my speed to dodge spells I can’t let hit me and… and it\nsounds like you could maybe arrange for me to get Auror training, like\nfrom whoever taught Susan Bones.” Hermione was smiling again now, a\nstrange light in her eyes that would’ve puzzled Dumbledore for hours and\nthat Harry understood immediately, not without a twinge of apprehension.\n“Oh! And I want to start carrying Muggle weapons, maybe hidden so nobody\nknows I have them. I thought of incendiary grenades when I was fighting\nthe troll, but I knew I couldn’t Transfigure them fast enough, even\nafter I stopped caring about obeying the rules.”\n“I have the feeling,” Harry said, imitating Professor McGonagall’s\nScottish accent as best he could, “that I ought to be doing something\nabout this.”\n“Oh, it’s much, much,muchtoo late for that, Mr Potter.\nSay, can you get me a bazooka? The rocket launcher, I mean, not the\nbubblegum? I bet they won’t be expectingthatfrom a young\ngirl, especially if I’m radiating an aura of innocence and purity.”\n“All right,” Harry said calmly, “nowyou’re starting to\nscare me.”\nHermione paused from where she was experimenting with balancing on\nthe tip of her left shoe, her arm reaching in one direction and her\nright leg stretched in the other, like a ballet dancer. “Am I? I was\njust thinking that I didn’t see what I could do that a Ministry squad of\nHit Wizards couldn’t. They have broomsticks for mobility and spells that\nhit harder than I possibly could.” She gracefully lowered her leg back\ndown. “I mean, now that I can try a few things without worrying about\nwho’s watching, I’m starting to think that I really reallyreallylike having superpowers. But I still don’t see how I\ncould win a fight that Professor Flitwick couldn’t, not unless it\ninvolves me taking a Dark Wizard by surprise.”\nYou can take risks other people shouldn’t, and try again with the\nknowledge of what killed you. You can experiment with new spells, more\nthan anyone else could try without dying for sure.But Harry\ncouldn’t say any of that yet, so instead he said, “I think it’s okay to\nthink more about the future, not just what you can do this very\nminute.”\nHermione jumped high in the air, clicked her heels together three\ntimes on the way down, and landed on her tiptoes, perfectly posed. “But\nyou said there was something I could do right away. Or were you just\ntesting?”\n“Thatpart is a special case,” Harry said, feeling the chill\nof the dawn air against his skin. He was increasingly not looking\nforward to telling super-Hermione that her Ordeal would involve facing\nher literal worst nightmare, under conditions where all her newfound\nphysical strength would be useless.\nHermione nodded, then glanced to the east. At once she went to the\nside of the roof and sat down, her feet dangling over the rooftop ledge.\nHarry went to her side and sat down too, sitting cross-legged and\nfurther back of the roof-edge.\nIn the distance, a brilliant tinge of red was rising above the hills\nto the east of Hogwarts.\nWatching the tip of the sunrise made Harry feel better, somehow. So\nlong as the Sun was in the sky, things were still all right on some\nlevel, like his having not yet destroyed the Sun.\n“So,” Hermione said. Her voice rose a bit. “Speaking of the future,\nHarry. I had time to think about a lot of things while I was waiting in\nSt. Mungo’s, and… maybe it’s silly of me, but there’s a question I still\nwant to know the answer to. Do you remember the last thing we talked\nabout together? Before, I mean?”\n“What?” Harry said blankly.\n“Oh…” Hermione said. “It was two months ago for you… I guess you don’t\nrecall, then.”\nAnd Harry remembered.\n“Don’t panic!” Hermione said, as a sort of strangled half-gurgle came\nfrom Harry’s throat. “I promise no matter what you say, I won’t burst\ninto tears and run away and get eaten by a troll again! I know it’s been\nless than two days for me, but I think that dying has made a lot of\nthings I used to fret about seem much less important compared to what\nI’ve been through!”\n“Oh,” Harry said, his own voice now high-pitched. “That’s a good use\nof a major trauma, I guess?”\n“Only, see, Iwasstill wondering about it, Harry, because\nfor me it hasn’t been very long at all since our last conversation, and\nwe didn’t finish talking which was admittedly all my own fault for\nlosing control of my emotions and then being eaten by a troll which I am\ndefinitely not going to do again. I’ve been thinking I ought to reassure\nyou that’s not going to happen every time you say the wrong thing to a\ngirl.” Hermione was fidgeting, leaning from one side to the other where\nshe sat, slightly back and forth. “But, well, even most people whoarein love don’t do literally one hundredth of what you’ve\ndone for me. So, Mr Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, if it’s not love, I\nwant to know exactly what I am to you. You never said.”\n“That’s a good question,” Harry said, controlling the rising panic.\n“Do you mind if I think about it?”\nBit by bit, more of the searingly brilliant circle became visible\nbeyond the hills.\n“Hermione,” Harry said when the Sun was halfway above the horizon,\n“did you ever invent any hypotheses to explain my mysterious dark\nside?”\n“Just the obvious one,” Hermione said, kicking her legs slightly over\nthe rooftop’s edge. “I thought maybe when You-Know-Who died right next\nto you, he happened to give off the burst of magic that makes a ghost,\nand some of it imprinted on your brain instead of the floor. But that\nnever felt right to me, like it was just a clever explanation that\nwasn’t actuallytrue, and it makes even less sense if\nYou-Know-Who didn’t really die that night.”\n“Good enough,” Harry said. “Let’s imagine that scenario for now.” His\ninner rationalist was looking back and face-palmingagainat\nhow he’d managed to not think about hypotheses like that one. It wasn’t\ntrue but it wasreasonableand Harry had never thought of any\ncausal model that concrete, just vaguely suspected a connection.\nHermione nodded. “You probably know this already, but I just thought\nI’d say it to be sure: you’re not Voldemort, Harry.”\n“I know. Andthat’swhat you mean to me.” Harry took a\nbreath, finding it still painful to say aloud. “Voldemort… he wasn’t a\nhappy person. I don’t know if he was ever happy, a single day in his\nlife.”He never could cast the Patronus Charm.“That’s one\nreason his cognitive patterns didn’t take me over, my dark side didn’t\nfeel like a good place to be, it didn’t get positively reinforced. Being\nfriends with you means that my life doesn’t have to go the way\nVoldemort’s did. And I was pretty lonely before Hogwarts, although I\ndidn’t realise it then, so… yeah. I might’ve been slightly more desperate\nto bring you back from the dead than the average boy my age would’ve\nbeen. Though I also maintain that my decision was strictly normative\nmoral reasoning, and if other people care less about their friends,\nthat’s their problem, not mine.”\n“I see,” Hermione said softly. She hesitated. “Harry, don’t take this\nthe wrong way, but I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with that.\nIt’s a big responsibility that I didn’t choose, and I don’t think it’s\nhealthy for you to lay it on just one person.”\nHarry nodded. “I know. But there’s more to the point I’m trying to\nmake. There was a prophecy about my vanquishing Voldemort—”\n“Aprophecy? There was aprophecyabout you?\nSeriously, Harry?”\n“Yeah, I know. Anyway, part of it went, ‘And the Dark Lord shall mark\nhim as his equal, but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not.’ What\nwould you guess that meant?”\n“Hmmm,” Hermione said. Her fingers tapped thoughtfully on the roof’s\nstone. “Your mysterious dark side is You-Know-Who’s mark on you that\nmade you his equal. The power he knew not… was the scientific method,\nright?”\nHarry shook his head. “That’s what I thought too at first—that it was\ngoing to be Muggle science, or the methods of rationality. But…” Harry\nexhaled. The sun had now fully risen above the hills. This felt\nembarrassing to say, but he was going to say it anyway. “Professor\nSnape, who originally heard the prophecy—yes, that’s also a thing that\nhappened—Professor Snape said he didn’t think it could just be science,\nthat the ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’ needed to be something more\nalien to Voldemort than just that. Even if I think of it in terms of\nrationality, well, it turns out that the person Voldemort really was,”why, Professor Quirrell, why,the thought still stabbing\nsickness at Harry’s heart, “he’d have been able to learn the methods of\nrationality too, if he read the same science papers I did. Except,\nmaybe, for one last thing…” Harry drew a breath. “At the end of all of\nit, during my final showdown with Voldemort, he threatened to put my\nparents, and my friends, into Azkaban. Unless I came up with interesting\nsecrets to tell him, one person saved per secret. But I knew I couldn’t\nfind enough secrets to save everyone. And in the moment that I saw no\nway at all left to save everyone… that’s when I actually started\nthinking. Maybe for the first time in my life, I started thinking. I\nthought faster than Voldemort, even though he was older than me and\nsmarter, because… because I had areason to think. Voldemort had\na drive to be immortal, he strongly preferred not to die, but that\nwasn’t a positive desire, it wasfear, and Voldemort made\nmistakes because of that fear. I think the power that Voldemort knew\nnot… was that I had something to protect.”\n“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said gently. She hesitated. “Is that what I am\nto you, then? The thing that you protect?”\n“No, I mean, the whole reason I’m telling you this, is that Voldemort\nwasn’t threatening to putyouin Azkaban. Even if he’d taken\nover the whole world, you’d have been fine. He’d already made a binding\npromise not to harm you, because of, um, because of reasons. So in my\nmoment of ultimate crisis, when I reached deep down and found the power\nVoldemort knew not, I did it to protect everyone except you.”\nHermione considered this, a slow smile spreading over her face. “Why,\nHarry,” she said. “That’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”\n“You’re welcome.”\n“No, really, itdoeshelp,” Hermione said. “I mean, it makes\nthe whole thing much less stalkery.”\n“I know, right?”\nThe two of them shared a companionable nod, both of them looking more\nrelaxed now, and watched the sunrise together.\n“I’ve been thinking,” Harry said, his own voice going soft, “about\nthe alternate Harry Potter, the person I might have been if Voldemort\nhadn’t attacked my parents.”If Tom Riddle hadn’t tried to copy\nhimself onto me.“That other Harry Potter wouldn’t have been as\nsmart, I guess. He probably wouldn’t have studied much Muggle science,\neven if his mother was a Muggle-born. But that other Harry Potter\nwould’ve had… the capacity for warmth, that he inherited from James\nPotter and Lily Evans, he would’ve cared about other people and tried to\nsave his friends, I know that would have been true, because that’s\nsomething that Lord Voldemort never did, you see…” Harry’s eyes were\nwatering. “So that part must be the remnant.”\nThe Sun was well above the horizon now, the golden light illuminating\nboth of them, casting long shadows off the other side of the rooftop\nplatform.\n“I think you’re just fine the way you are,” Hermione said. “I mean,\nthat other Harry Potter might’ve been a nice boy, maybe, but it sounds\nlike I would’ve had to do all his thinking for him.”\n“Going by heredity, alter-Harry would have been in Gryffindor like\nhis parents, and the two of you wouldn’t have become friends. Though\nJames Potter and Lily Evans were the Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts\nback in their day, so he wouldn’t have beenthatbad.”\n“I can just imagine it,” Hermione said. “Harry James Potter, Sorted\ninto Gryffindor, aspiring Quidditch player—”\n“No. Just no.”\n“Remembered by history as the sidekick of Hermione Jean Granger,\nwho’d send out Mr Potter to get into trouble for her, and then solve the\nmystery from the library by reading books and using her incredible\nmemory.”\n“You’re really enjoying this alternate universe, aren’t you.”\n“Maybe he’d be best mates with Ron Weasley, thesmartestboy\nin Gryffindor, and they’d fight side-by-side in my army in Defence\nclass, and afterwards help each other with their homework—”\n“Okay, enough, this is starting to creep me out.”\n“Sorry,” Hermione said, though she was still smiling to herself,\nappearing rapt in some private vision.\n“Apology accepted,” Harry said dryly.\nThe Sun rose a little further in the sky.\nAfter a while, Hermione spoke. “Doyou suppose we’ll fall in\nlove with each other later on?”\n“I don’t know any better than you do, Hermione. But why does it have\nto be about that? Seriously, why does it always have to be about that?\nMaybe when we’re older we’ll fall in love, and maybe we won’t. Maybe\nwe’ll stay in love, and maybe we won’t.” Harry turned his head slightly,\nthe Sun was hot on his cheek and he wasn’t wearing sunscreen. “No matter\nhow it goes, we shouldn’t try to force our lives into a pattern. I think\nwhen people try toforcepatterns onto this sort of thing,\nthat’s when they end up unhappy.”\n“No forced patterns?” Hermione said. Her eyes had taken on a\nmischievous look. “That sounds like a more complicated way of sayingno rules. Which I guess seems a lot more reasonable to me than\nit would’ve at the start of this year. If I’m going to be a Sparkling\nUnicorn Princess and have my own time machine, I might as well give up\non rules, I suppose.”\n“I’m not saying that rules are always bad, especially when they\nactually fit people, instead of them being blindly imitated like\nQuidditch. But weren’t you the one who rejected the ‘hero’ pattern in\nfavour of just doing the things she could?”\n“I suppose so.” Hermione turned her head again to gaze down at the\ngrounds below Hogwarts, for the Sun was too bright to look at\nnow—though, Harry thought, Hermione’s retinas would always heal now, it\nwas safe for her alone to look directly into the light. “You said,\nHarry, that you thought I was always destined to be the hero. I’ve been\nconsidering, and I suspect you’re completely wrong. If this had beenmeantto be, things would’ve been a lot easier all round. Just\ndoing the things you can do—you have tomakethat happen, you\nhave to choose it, over and over again.”\n“That might not conflict with your being a destined hero,” Harry\nsaid, thinking of compatibilist theories of free will, and prophecies\nthat he must not look upon in order to fulfil. “But we can talk about\nthat later.”\n“You have to choose it,” Hermione repeated. She pushed herself up on\nher hands, then popped herself backwards and onto the rooftop, rising to\nher feet in a smooth motion. “Just like I’m choosing to do this.”\n“No kissing!” Harry said, scrambling to his feet and preparing to\ndodge; though the realization came to him that the Girl-Who-Revived\nwould be much, much faster.\n“I won’t try to kiss you again, Mr Potter. Not until you ask me, if\nyou ever do. But there are all these warm feelings bubbling up inside me\nand I feel like I might burst if I don’t dosomething, though\nit does now occur to me that it’s unhealthy if girls don’t know any way\nof expressing gratitude to boys besides kissing them.” Hermione took out\nher wand and offered it crosswise, in the position she’d used to swear\nher oath of fealty to House Potter before the Wizengamot.\n“Ohhellno,” Harry said. “Do you realise what it took to\nget you out of that oathlasttime—”\n“Don’t go jumping to conclusions, you. I wasn’t about to swear fealty\nto your House again. You’ve got to start trusting me to be sensible if\nyou’re going to be my mysterious young wizard. Now please hold out your\nwand.”\nSlowly, Harry took out the Elder Wand and crossed it with Hermione’s\nten-and-three-quarter-inches of vine wood, forcing down a last worry\nabout her choosing the wrong thing. “Can you at least not say anything\nabout ‘until death takes me’, because did I mention I have the\nPhilosopher’s Stone now? Or anything about ‘the end of the world and its\nmagic’? I’m a lot more nervous around phrases like that than I used to\nbe.”\nUpon a roof floored in square stony tiles, the brilliant morning Sun\nblazes down upon two not-really-children-any-more, both in blue-fringed\nblack robes, facing each other across crossed wands. One has brown eyes\nbeneath chaotic chestnut curls, and radiates an aura of strength and\nbeauty that is not magic only; the other has green eyes under glasses,\nwith messy black hair above a recently inflamed scar. Below, a stone\ntower nobody remembers seeing from ground level stretches downwards into\nthe broad base of the castle Hogwarts. Far beneath them are visible the\ngreen hills, and the lake. In the distance a huge red-and-black line of\nrailcars and an engine, appearing tiny from this height, a train neither\nMuggle nor fully magical. The sky is nearly unclouded, but for faint\ntinges of orange-white where wisps of moisture reflect the sunlight. A\nlight breeze carries the crisp chill of dawn, and the dampness of\nmorning; but the huge blazing golden globe is now risen high above the\nhorizon, and its incandescence casts warmth on everything it\ntouches.\n“Well, maybe after this you’ll be less nervous,” the hero says to her\nenigmatic wizard. She knows she doesn’t know the whole story, but the\nfragment of truth that she does hold shines bright like sunlight within\nher, casting warmth on her insides the way the Sun warms her face. “Idochoose this, now.”\nUpon my life and magic I swear friendship to Harry Potter,To help him and trust in him,To stand with him and, um, stand by him,And sometimes go where he can’t go,’Till the day that death takes me for real, if it ever does, I\nmean,And if the world or its magic ends, we’ll deal with that together.\nE. Y.: This is the end of Harry Potter and the Methods of\nRationality.I will write no sequel myself; I have said what I set out to say, and\nit is done.You have my enthusiastic consent to write within this universe yourself,\nif you wish.I am happy to have written this book for you,and I am honored that you read it.Many of you have declared yourselves my friends,and that knowledge is shining warmly inside me.I wish for you to live long, and prosperEXPECTO PATRONUM!"
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