"Great Scott, Potter, This is War!"
Chapter Five - The Paladin Program
By Aaran St Vines
There are several small differences between chapter five here, and chapter five in "The Granger Defense." The major difference is the discussion between Harry and Ron.
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Finally Steph Granger spoke most gravely, "Harry, you have to understand, that if the only way you can kill Voldemort and save the world, is to let some one close to you die, even Hermione, then I expect you to do so."
The shocked look on Harry's face could not have been more profound.
"You want me to let Hermione die?"
Mr. Granger's hand furiously pounded the arm of the sofa and a dust cloud rose from the piece of furniture. "Are you a fool, Potter?" The dentist did not shout but the sound of his voice was chilling. "I don't want you to let her die! I only said that if you have to choose between killing Voldemort and saving her, kill the evil bas-- that is, kill him - if it is the only way to kill him, then....
"Harry, I am sorry I yelled at you. It kills me to think for a moment of my daughter being anywhere near a battle." He stared at his hands once more, the spoke again. "I understand war better than most, but I cannot think of one real way that I can keep her away from it. Hermione has convinced me that you have a major, if not THE major role to play in the defeat of Voldemort. She has also demonstrated that she has been essential to you in your fights so far, and believes she will be of immeasurable assistance to you in the future. She's never lied to me. But I ask you, Harry, has she been so crucial to your past fights? Is there anyway that you think you can succeed in the future without her help?"
Harry's heart was pounding in his throat. He wanted some way to convince Mr. Granger to take Hermione away to safety. But he knew, more than any of those around him except Dumbledore, that the freedom of the wizarding world at least, and probably the Muggle world, rested in his hands.
With the possible exception of the headmaster, and maybe not even him, Harry just knew he needed Hermione by his side in this fight. Just like he needed Ron's steadfast loyalty and courage. Just like he needed a lot of people by his side - but especially those two.
Harry nodded his head. "I need her, Mr. Granger, her and Ron, but maybe Hermione just a little more than Ron. If I could do it without... I would die to ensure her saf-" Harry swallowed. "If I have to die to defeat Voldemort and keep her safe, I will. But she I truly believe she's crucial to my preparation, and probably during the battle itself I'll need her..."
Harry now stared at his hands. Finally, "It kills me a little, sir. I wish I could think of a way to let you take her away." Harry looked up defiantly. "I promise you, sir-"
"No need to promise, Harry. The look in your eyes, it says it all. Hermione told us before the attack that you would die for your friends, and though I did not doubt it based on what you have done so far, I couldn't help but wonder if what you and she, and your friends have experienced could be like war as I know it. You could say you would make such sacrifice, but after seeing war you could.... Well, now I believe you, Harry. Now I know you, and I believe you. And I'll make sure Sylvia knows of the commitment you've to our daughter's well being. But not at the expense of the world."
Granger sat back and laughed a mirthless laugh. "Good God, Harry. I've been in a war, a real war involving whole countries, but never in the fight for the freedom of the world. The idea makes for a bad movies script, and now I am living in it. And there is so little I can do to help."
The dentist looked at him. "But help I will. I'll do everything in my power to help you avoid the situation where you have to decide between stopping evil and saving your friends. Professor Dumbledore assures me that he has an excellent program for you to participate in. He's gathering everyone he can to help train you and the rest of the Hogwarts students, but I think particularly to train you, to prepare all of you for the confrontation, or multiple confrontations should they occur.
"The headmaster and I have discussed just a little some of the things he has planned. You need to learn tactics and strategy, and small unit fighting dynamics. We need to fully discuss everything you know and anyone else knows about these murdering fiends and devise ways to do maximum damage to them with minimum casualties to our side. I've volunteered to help, and Professor Dumbledore is open minded enough to think I can help in some simple ways, maybe more.
"I want you to be the Wrath of God on a broom when you meet Voldemort. I want you and Hermione, and everyone else there in force and ready to bring superior firepower down on them. No mercy. 'Kill 'em all and let someone else sort them out.' That's what my old sergeant used to say, and it's good advice in times like these."
After waiting for a moment with an obvious question on his face, Harry said, "Mr. Granger, how does it feel to be a murderer?"
Now it was time for the dentist to look shocked. He sat there, frozen in place with a look that caused Harry to quickly look away. Harry heard Hermione's father heave a great sigh after a moment. Time passed.
Finally, the gentle Steph Granger said, "Look at me, Harry. I have killed over thirty people up close, close enough to see the look in their eyes when I made the killing thrust or shot. No telling how many others I killed when I called in artillery fire in Vietnam. There isn't a one I would not have rather subdued and not killed after the adrenalin of the battle died down and I could think rationally.
"BUT, I have NEVER murdered anyone."
Harry looked up at him in confusion.
"If you look in a dictionary, Harry, the word 'kill' will say something like 'to end life.' The word 'murder' means 'to kill with evil or malicious intent.' The Death Eaters and Voldemort are murderers. My wife and I killed four murderers or attempted murderers at least. Killing someone trying to murder you is the clearest distinction I can think of to differentiate these two means of ending a life. Even the Death Eater I killed who I had slashed across the hand, could have pulled another wand and still done that Killing Curse on me, or so Moody assures me."
The dentist stared at Harry. "Son, you haven't thought that killing Voldemort will make you a murderer, have you? It will make you a hero - and before you give me that sour face about being a hero, I know what you are thinking. Many think of you as a hero for what you did as a baby. Others consider you a hero because of the things you've done since then. You are a hero and so am I. And I know how bereft of meaning my heroism is whenever I dream about that bullet entering Tanner's chest.
"I finally left the regiment because even after more than four years, everyone looked at me with hero worship. They think I'm such a great warrior and many who have not seen action want me to tell them about it. I believe you've had that too, haven't you? Really is a bloody bother, isn't it?"
Harry looked up. He realized that for once, someone else understood how meaningless the accolades are when you understand the costs up close.
"Harry, do you want to talk about Sirius, or maybe Cedric? Others were there when Sirius died, but you were alone when Cedric was killed, weren't you?"
Harry said quietly, "He was there because I offered to let him grab the cup with me, so we'd win together. Had I gone alone he wouldn't have been killed. It was senseless and brutal, and a good guy is gone, and his parents will never be the same."
"I know, Harry, I know. The Brigadier, Tanner's father, really wants to spend time with me, even now, because I was Tanner's best friend, but I can't face him. I'm probably being crueler to him than if I did see him, but I just can't."
The two warriors sat in silence for the longest time. It was a rare camaraderie they shared - they were two of those who had seen too much of war and lived to be adored for their exertions, when all they wanted was peace and memory loss. Instead, they were being asked to fight more. And because they held the rare giftings of great warriors, they would gather up their armor and do what would bring them more accolades, as much as they despised it.
It was all the more strange since one of the battle-hardened veterans was forty-nine, while the other was not yet sixteen.
Finally, the father braced himself and made the request, he would rather die than let happen, "Promise me, Harry."
It was almost a minute before the younger champion said, "All of the innocents are worth more than one person. If I am absolutely sure it is the only way to end it, I will sacrifice Hermione if need be, to kill him." He lowered his head into his hands and began weeping silently.
Harry felt sure he heard a whispered, "Thank you," amidst the dentist's own quiet sobs.
They had been dry-eyed for over ten minutes. They had been refreshed by what women referred to as a 'good cry.' The dentist and the teenager maintained a unique fellowship, the peace they were experiencing was inexplicable to all but a few. In those ten minutes they'd been discussing the daily exercise routines the elder warrior did. When Harry asked how he might start such a program, Mr. Granger said that he would tell him in a few days, after he and Dumbledore finalized several remaining issues.
"Daddy? Harry?" The door cracked open.
"Yes, Pumpkin?" Hermione came in with a distraught blush and sour look on her face, and her father laughed.
"Harry, my daughter doesn't like being called Pumpkin. You don't think it's a nickname I should give up, do you?"
Harry looked at the father, then the daughter, and then at the father again. Then he realized how to diplomatically make his point. "No, it's a great nickname. I won't call her that, but I bet Ron will, if you keep using it."
"Well, if you put it that way..."
Hermione broke out laughing this time. "Oh, Daddy. I'll always be your little pumpkin, and I want you to call me that when we're alone, but Harry's right. As much as I love Ron as a friend, and maybe more, but he's just too dense to see that as your exclusive nickname for me.
"I came up to tell you that lunch will be ready in five minutes or so, and Professor Dumbledore is here to see you, Harry. I think you and he will have a private working lunch, as he called it. Are you two finished?"
"I am. Harry?"
"Yes, sir, but if I ever..."
"I'd be glad to discuss anything you like, Harry. This is war, and we're all in it together. I feel pretty useless despite what Sylvia and I did the other day, so if I can help you in any way, it'll allow me to be of some use, which I want badly."
Hermione ran down the stairs to tell Molly to begin serving lunch. As they walked out of the library, and before they reached the staircase, they heard, "Steph. Harry."
It was Dumbledore. "Thank you for helping my young friend, Steph. Did everything...?"
"Professor, how can I help you better train Harry and the others? Is there anything I can do? Do they need to use me for moving target practice...?"
The headmaster's eyes sparkled. "We need nothing so dramatic, Steph, and besides, I believe I have something more in line with your talents, and the many talents of your charming wife."
"You need a dentist? But I thought..."
Dumbledore roared with laughter, something Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen. "Do I need a dentist? Oh, Steph, that is without a doubt the funniest one-liner I have heard in, it must be a hundred and twenty-five, no, a hundred and twenty-seven years." The mirthful laughter continued.
Steph looked flustered and Harry was open-mouthed until he actually thought about Dumbledore going to a dentist. He began to laugh too. Finally the Mr. Granger seemed to see the humor and chuckled also.
"No, Steph, I have something else in mind, even more than the physical training work we discussed. But I need to talk to Harry. Please ask Molly to fix a tray for the two of us and clap twice once it's ready. I'll take it from there. And please apologize to all for my taking Harry from his friends. He should have some time to visit before he has to go back and work in his aunt's garden."
Harry and Dumbledore entered the library and sat at a table that was set for two diners that had not been there when Harry'd left. The elder wizard started laughing again. "That is rich, Harry. Can you imagine me in a dentist's chair? Wouldn't the drills get caught in my beard? Can't you just see it now? That reminds me of the joke, the one about the dentist, the snake charmer, and the trombone player--"
They heard two claps though not from downstairs, there had to be some sort of spell to make that possible. "Ah, Harry, lunch. Molly is such a fine cook."
There were gorgeous sandwiches with roast beef and ham on crusty hot homemade brown bread, cut in quarters. There were beautiful deli pickles on each plate, and a crock of pungent brown mustard on the side. The chips apparently had just been cooked because they still sizzled and crackled. Under a cloth there were hot biscuits with chocolate icing ladled on generously. There were mugs of iced pumpkin juice there and a pitcher to refill their mugs when needed. And in one covered bowl there were Muggle lemon drops.
"Well, Harry, it all looks marvelous, tuck in."
They were relatively quiet while they first prepared their sandwiches, but after the first bites, and after the required 'ahs' of delight at the tastes, Harry asked, "So, what happened in the joke?"
"Which joke?"
"The one with the snake charmer, the dentist, and the trombone player."
"Well, there once was -- Oh! I nearly forgot... I have something for you."
Dumbledore pulled out an official looking document from one of his many pockets, which he handed with a bit of pomp to his dining partner. It was addressed:
Mr. Harry James Potter
Dining somewhere with Albus Dumbledore
(Yes, I know it is none of my business)
Harry felt like he was no longer hungry. There was a hippogriff flying around in his stomach and his face seemed to pale right before the headmaster's eyes.
"Good heavens, Harry, I am rather proud of your results. You will be too, I do believe. Please open it."
Harry did not believe it could be all bad, he knew his mentor would not mislead him, but there was one grade he feared - the one most likely to block his path to the future he wanted. He read:
Dear Mr. Potter:
Please find your results for your Ordinary Wizarding Levels as follows:
Course of Study - Theoretical and Practical (if applicable)
Astronomy -
Acceptable (b.a.u.t.c*)
Care of Magical Creatures -
Outstanding
Charms -
Theoretical Exceeds Expectations
Practical Outstanding
Defense Against the Dark Arts -
Theoretical Outstanding
Practical Outstanding Plus
Divination -
Outstanding
Herbology -
Theoretical Acceptable
Practical Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic -
Poor
Potions -
Theoretical Exceeds Expectations
Practical Exceeds Expectations Acceptable
Transfiguration -
Theoretical Exceeds Expectations
Practical Outstanding
*b.a.u.t.c - barely acceptable under the circumstances
Mr. Potter, whereas twelve O.W.L.s is to be highly applauded, I must say that I have only seen two other Outstanding Pluses in my one hundred and fifty-seven years of supervising these tests. Professor Dumbledore will no doubt be too modest to tell you, but he received an Outstanding Plus for his Practical O.W.L. in Transfiguration.
Congratulations but don't let it go to your head, you do have three Poors for grades also.
Good luck in your future endeavors,
Madam Griselda Marchbanks
Department Head for the Wizarding Examinations Authority
"Did you read this, sir?" Harry asked noncommittally.
"No, the results go straight to Hogwarts to Professor McGonagall's attention. She compiles the data and gives me a formal list. I have not been to the school since these grades were posted. But Madam Marchbanks and I are old friends. She knows you have special arrangements during the summer and thought you might be unavailable to owl posts. She gave this to me, just in case, when we met at a chamber music recital last week, or was it at the tenpin tournament? We were at both. She told me that you had earned twelve O.W.L.s . I am most pleased, Harry, most pleased indeed. Of course I read in the Daily Prophet about Mr. Macmillan's O's in Defense. Very nice of him to give you the credit he did. "
Without a word, because he was still in shock, Harry handed the results letter to his lunch partner.
Using his left thumb, Dumbledore pushed his reading glasses back a bit on his nose and read the missive. His eyes widened for just a moment, and a few seconds later he blushed slightly. He folded the letter carefully and just as carefully handed it back to his student.
"Harry, you will want to place that in your Gringotts vault until you set up permanent residence later in life. An Outstanding Plus is a rare thing indeed as Madam Marchbanks told you. You'll want to frame that. Well, I cannot express just how proud I am of you. I know you have always excelled in that subject, and that you have used what you have learned to your advantage during actual fighting. I also know that you were an excellent instructor with the DA, as Mr. Macmillan's success has demonstrated. But, Harry, to achieve an Outstanding Plus you would have had to demonstrate near impossible perfection in execution and completion. You must have been positively eloquent in your verbal explanations during the practical. You must have performed at instructor level."
Both Dumbledore and Harry were silent before each other. Harry just thought he had done well, he did not understand exactly what had just been expressed. Harry did not understand just how the accomplishments of his students touched the headmaster. His accomplishment was even more remarkable, considering the abysmal level of formal Defense instruction in Harry's fifth year.
Finally the elder wizard spoke. "Harry, could I ask you to expand your efforts with the Defense Association on a more formal basis this coming year? It will be demanding, but I believe I can make it possible for you to help many more people than you were able to last year. You will need a more official recognition of your efforts at the very least. What do you say, Harry?"
Harry was a bit dumbstruck by Dumbledore's effusiveness, but he finally said, "Sir, I'll be glad to help in any way you think best. I'd like to see the skills of everyone improve, particularly after last year with Umbridge. It's more of me wanting to save everyone I guess, but I can't stand thinking a Death Eater might hurt someone if I could have trained them better. I was going to ask if we could make the DA official and invite more to attend. I think Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny, and especially Neville could help me teach more students. Some of the others, like Ernie, might be able to teach also. I think I could create a plan to expand everyone's abilities to defend themselves. Particularly if Hermione and Ron help me develop it."
"Yes, Harry, that's exactly what I want. See if you can write up your training plan with your friends and show me a rough draft by, say, the end of the first week in August. Remus contacted me regarding your letter to the DA members about producing a Patronus under dementor attack conditions. He said that it was excellent work, so I approved his plan to use Hogwarts Copy Quills and school owls to copy and deliver your letters. If you should decide to write more instructional letters on other subjects, please let Remus know. But I ask one more favor, would you allow others, non-DA members, to receive copies of your writings if they request them?"
"I don't know who else would want to hear what I have to say, but--"
"Now, Harry, no false modesty. Remus said that your explanations are excellent and I do not think he would say so to me, just to flatter you."
After a moment's thought, Harry said, "Okay, Professor, whatever you say. Oh, and can I ask who the other person was that got an O Plus?"
"The other student created an antidote to a new poison. Grindelwald had just started poisoning people, and this student demonstrated the solution to the antidote dilemma during his O.W.L test. The student was Tom Riddle, and his research started him on his path of seeking immortality."
After a very solemn pause, Harry asked, "What did you do during your O.W.L.s that was so wonderful, sir?"
"Oh, I solved the problem with Aberforth's goat."
"Mother! Just Leave. Me. Alone! I am not going to write him. He's a Gryffindor and all it means. He's brave and noble but I don't know if he, or any of them can forgive me. I got Dumbledore removed as Headmaster!"
"Honey, you didn't do that directly--"
"Don't try to use Slytherin logic on me. You and I are both Ravenclaws; we know the logical conclusion of that train of thought." She stopped speaking for a moment and lowered her head. "Once they removed the Memory Charm and I remembered what I had done, and what the results were... I was almost glad that I had the word 'sneak' embedded on my face."
She straightened her stance, wiped her eyes, as if to make a pronouncement. "I don't deserve his help. Let's just hope we don't meet any dementors." And with that last statement she marched out of the room. Her bedroom door slammed shut a moment later.
The mother sat staring into space at a blank wall. After several minutes she rose and walked to the desk, took out quill, ink, and parchment, and began. The words were difficult at first, but they flowed with greater ease, and greater discomfort.
Dear Mr. Potter,
If you tear up this letter immediately I will not blame you, but please hear a mother's request before you do. I've no right to expect that, much less your acceptance of my particular request, but - I write in hope - a mother's hope.
My daughter did not want to betray you. She resisted me for weeks and weeks, at first responding to my owls to say 'no,' and then not responding to my owls at all. Finally, Dolores Umbridge, someone whom I once trusted, but who started threatening our family, arranged for me to Floo to Hogwarts where she and I both forced Marietta to betray you. I felt heart-sick during the process, but was promoted and given a raise the next day at the Ministry. That was my thirty pieces of silver.
It is MY fault, not my daughter's. She has learned from you enough Gryffindor bravery to want to suffer the consequences of her betrayal - such bravery and such convictions she obviously did not learn from me.
I write this letter to ask you to heap the anger you rightly feel for my daughter on me. And I further write to ask you to include her in any future defense instructions letters you may write. Today we ran into Cho Chang and Madam Chang in Diagon Alley. Madam Chang did not know about my daughter's actions and assumed that Marietta had received your letter about fighting dementors as Cho had. Madam Chang could not say enough about the excellence of your directives and how her whole family plans to follow your instructions and methods in preparation for possible future attacks.
In being courageous enough to be willing to pay the price for her treachery, I attribute that courage to Marietta's association with you. But the treachery should be laid solely at my feet, not hers.
Please, Mr. Potter, forgive her. Please send her a copy of these instructions if you still have one. Please include her in future instructional letters should you write them, and please allow her to rejoin the DA at school this fall.
I had an uncle who was killed by a Death Eater. Please do what you can to help my daughter avoid any similar fate.
With all of my gratitude for reading thus far,
Madam Pontillia Edgecombe
____
Harry had been given this letter by Remus Lupin after his 'working lunch' with Professor Dumbledore.
"Profess- I mean, Remus, this letter arrived just now? But didn't my instruction letters only go out this morning?"
"Why yes, Harry. But actually they arrived early this morning. We worked through the night and sent the last one off by owl at about 4:30 this morning. The Changs and the Edgecombes live here in London and owl post is very quick over such short distances."
Harry was a bit stunned. "But - my letter - it wasn't that important to loose sleep-"
"Now there you are wrong," interrupted Lupin, "I may have taught you to cast a Patronus Spell with one fake dementor by way of a Boggart, but you taught me how to cast a corporeal Patronus. I had never produced a corporeal before last night when I read your instructions. It would have never occurred to me to try it, but Hermione spoke in such a matter of fact manner about how she had done what you had written in your letter and had produced a corporeal Patronus the first time. Now I know she is the brightest witch of her age I have ever seen, but a corporeal? - the first time?
"While we waited for Minerva McGonagall to send the Copying Quills and school owls, I went into the back garden and re-read your instructions. I searched my mind for a happy thought from my past. I had always used my time with your parents at your birth to cast that spell before, but it did not have the power for a full corporeal. As you might imagine, werewolves don't have the happiest lives to draw from. So, I took your advice and thought about the happiest thing I wanted to occur in the future.
"When I decided on the one thing I most wanted, I pondered it, fleshed it out with what might be called memories from the future, and ran over those thoughts several times. I stood up, started the memories in my brain again, and cast the spell.
"Harry, I almost dropped my wand when a fully formed huge silver dove shot out." Remus blushed. "I always thought of your mother as a peaceful, lovely dove.
"So, I personally oversaw the Copying Quills and Hermione, Ginny, and Ron helped with addressing the owls. This letter from Madam Edgecombe was not the only response. I have four others from those nearby, more will probably come in from those who live in the northlands and Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. But this is the only owl that needs a decision from you, so far. It's your instruction letter."
The impact from Lupin's narrative had our hero speechless for a few moments. He finally shook his head and said, "But they are just my ramblings- erm, Remus. um... of course we have to send these instructions to Marietta and anyone else who wants them, although I can't imagine who would - but why did you wait? Why not send them? It's the right thing to do."
"Hermione wanted to right away. Ron didn't want to, not until the Edgecombes 'sweated a bit,' I think is how he put it. Ginny said it was your decision and that quieted both of them. I thought for certain that you would say what you did, but Ginny was right, it is your decision."
Changing the subject, Remus asked, "How'd your lunch with Professor Dumbledore go? Did he tell you about the Paladin Program, or at least what he has finalized so far?"
Harry remembered back to their conversation and was still amazed by the outline of the Paladin Program as the headmaster had explained it.
As they continued to eat, Dumbledore asked, "So, Harry, what did you learn from your three different visitors?"
At first Harry didn't think he could put it into words, but as he opened his mouth to say so, he realized he could at least explain the first visit, and the main points for each next visit just followed the first.
"Everybody else, including you, sir, that very night, wanted to tell me it was not my fault that Sirius died. Professor Lupin told me that he thought it was my fault, but only to a degree. He told me how it was your fault and my fault, and his, and Professor Snape's, and - even a bit Sirius' fault - and of course primarily Voldemort's and Bellatrix Lestrange's as well. I can now see that others were partially to blame after I was allowed to accept my portion of the guilt.
"Everyone wanted me to feel better about Sirius, like I should forget about him. But Moody told me that I would feel his loss forever - only it would ease and become more bearable eventually. Moody also convinced me, as did Remus, that I'm not going to stay out of this fight, or keep my friends out of it, so I'd better get all of the help and training I can, it's the only way to cut down on injuries and... deaths." Harry gulped with these last words.
"Harry, have you told your friends about the prophecy?"
"No, sir, I've told no one and I don't plan to any time soon. People look at me oddly enough as it is; I don't want to add to the stares, as if that's possible. And of course before I talked to Mr. Granger I thought killing Riddle would make me a murderer, and I didn't want my friends to consort with a murderer.
"But Hermione has figured out that I'm probably the one who'll have to kill Voldemort, since he comes after me so often. She sees the pattern and assumes it is inevitable, not a prophetic reason for it to happen. So Mr. Granger heard me say something about murdering Voldemort. I don't really remember exactly what I said, but he got upset with me when I said something about killing Tom being murder.
"He told me that a murderer kills for no good reason, only for evil purposes. A killer kills to stop something terrible from happening, and that killing a murderer to stop the evil killing was a terrible thing to have to do, but the right thing to do. It didn't take long for the truth of that to sink in, and I am really glad that he told me."
Harry looked at his half eaten sandwich and wondered if he would finish it. His lunch companion was very still and soundless.
"Each of my three visitors kept repeating that 'this is war.' I always knew it in my head, but now I think I know it in my heart - or rather in my stomach, I want to throw up whenever I think about it."
Harry spoke the last sentence with such finality that it was clear he had finished giving account of his three visitors. But Dumbledore remained silent for a very long time. Harry did not consider what his mentor might be thinking and he didn't want to know. After what was an indeterminably long time, he decided to change the subject.
"Professor, I really don't want to talk about this any more right now. Can we talk about this program you're so excited about but haven't explained to me?"
"Oh. Why, yes, Harry. And I haven't been keeping it from you, I haven't had the time and the most important pieces have only just fallen in place, so I haven't-"
"Sir," Harry held up his hand. "I know you have not been keeping this from me. I feel bad about those things I said to you that night. You never said you were perfect - I just assumed you were." Harry wiped his face with his hand and continued, "Sir, I'd rather follow you when you are wrong, which is certainly rare, than follow anyone else who happens to be right at the moment. I just hate being left out of things. I'll try to be more understanding when you can't tell me something because I'm just a kid, but I would like to be kept better informed. Moody said that I need to know what matters about me, and that telling me about what is happening in general isn't a bad idea, but a lot that doesn't concern me I shouldn't be told for security reasons. I think I see his point, now."
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Thank you, Harry, for those words of confidence, they mean as much - no actually more than anyone else's might right now. And thank you for letting me be imperfect. I have been feeling my faults and failures more and more lately. There are many advantages to living a long life. Seeing the accumulation of your mistakes isn't one of them. I do promise to tell you what I can as soon as I can. I cannot express how much your trust means to me."
They both were glad to go on to the next matter.
"Now, Harry, there are really three main parts to the Paladin Program. The first part is the actual training, which begins formally the first day of classes, but you do prepare before that day also. The second part concerns who can participate in the program. The third part is the physiological aspects that make this concentrated training achievable.
"I see by the look on your face that I need to work on my overview delivery."
Harry shook his head negatively once and then several times he nodded, 'yes.'
Dumbledore chuckled. "First, do you know who the Paladins were?"
Harry shook his head. He'd heard Dudley mumbling about 'paladins' being such a pain in one of his computer games. But he couldn't imagine that those were the paladins his headmaster was discussing.
"You know the story about King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. There is little factual knowledge about Arthur, and believe me, we in the wizarding world know more about him than any Muggles. Most of what is 'known' is mythical, but Arthur lived in the late fifth century A.D., and fought the Saxon invaders here in England. In the late eighth century, the king of the Franks, Charlemagne, or Charles the Great as that name means, gathered around himself a group of similarly amazing knights called the Paladins.
"North African Moslems, known as the Saracens, had invaded and conquered most of Spain, and were invading France. Charlemagne's grandfather stopped the largest invasion attempt, but Charlemagne and his Paladins fought them on a number of occasions. They had many other battles as well with Danes, Lombards, and other Germanic and barbaric invaders.
"The truth about Charlemagne's Paladins is almost as shrouded in legend as the Knights of the Round Table. They were indeed a select group of his many knights, who proved to be the most noble, most chivalrous, and mightiest warriors of the age. Those Paladins were so highly trained and skilled and their standards set so high, that few tried to join their ranks, and fewer still succeeded. But they were not a restricted group.
"Harry, it was not a group of knights made up only of Franks. There was a Bavarian, a Dane, and two Saracens who had converted to Christianity, in with the others most trusted by Charlemagne, and admired or feared by all. These three nationalities were sworn enemies of the Franks, but those four knights had proved themselves able and trustworthy.
"The Paladins were the paragons of nobility, not nobility of birth, but nobility of purpose and action. Their virtues and their great striving for excellence in all things as well as fighting abilities, were two aspects of the Paladins I want in those entering our program. The non-exclusiveness is another. Pureblood, half-blood, and Muggle-born are all invited to join, but only their efforts and achievements will allow them to join and to remain. No one in any house will not be invited, if they qualify and participate in all that the program entails."
Harry frowned and interrupted, "You're going to invite Slytherins to join. Professor, you can't-"
"Harry, just because I invite anyone in particular to join, doesn't mean they will. Professor Snape is making a special effort among all Slytherins who qualify, or can be tutored this summer to the point of qualification. He hopes that participation in this program will point out the error of Voldemort's plans. Even children of known Death Eaters will be invited if they can qualify. But let me ask you, Harry, do you think all of them will agree to the values of this program, even if they want to receive the training? Professor Snape is personally explaining to each candidate from his house, and their parents, what the values are we will promote - our version of the chivalry in the days of Charlemagne.
"Harry, accepting and valuing all pureblood, half-blood, and Muggle-born, is a qualifying factor, and an ongoing point of qualification. Mr. Malfoy's participation will be dependent on his acceptance and proper treatment of all, ALL. And, Harry, your ongoing participation will depend on your acceptance of any Slytherins who choose to join us. I do not want to put too fine a point on it, but do you understand and accept that?"
Harry never imagined his feelings for Malfoy and his ilk might stand in his way of becoming an Auror, or even training to defeat Voldemort. He pondered this, and his headmaster allowed him the time and silence.
Of the roughly one thousand students at Hogwarts, roughly two hundred and fifty were in each house - between thirty and forty students in each year, in each house. Of those Slytherins he knew well - Malfoy and his lot - none of them would possibly consider becoming Aurors, Harry felt sure. That was just over half of them in his year. Of the fifteen or so Slytherins left in his year, he knew none of them. Oh, he had acknowledged Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass when they passed in the corridors, but he did not even know the names of the others. Perhaps the very fact that they did not traipse around following after Draco made them more acceptable than he had ever considered.
Finally, it occurred to him that Draco would rather be set on fire than join such a program, as would all those others who were so vocally pro-Voldemort.
"Professor, any Slytherin who wants to be a Paladin, I'll cooperate with and even welcome into the DA, but I have to say, I'm not expecting many of them to join."
'Nor I, Harry, nor I. Unfortunate though, we could use many of them. They are hard working students and dedicated to any goal they set. They fight hard, as well. I'd rather have as many fighting with us as possible. Though Slytherins have been in the main of supporters of many dark wizards and witches over the ages, the vast majority of that house have been honorable members of the wizarding community. You may know that Mr. Ollivander was Slytherin, from the time you spent with him before your third year, but did you know that Alastor Moody was also from that house?"
Harry was flabbergasted. "But he hates all Death Eaters!"
"Yes, his emotions do run high on that matter. But you will allow that you would have a particular dislike for any Gryffindor joining Tom. Besides the obvious, does not the fact that Peter Pettigrew was from Gryffindor rile you a bit more than say, Augustus Rookwood from Ravenclaw?"
After a moment, Harry said, "You have a point there."
"Back to the description of the Paladin Program. I thought long and hard while I was on my forced sabbatical from the headmaster's office about what type of training I wanted for you, and anyone else at Hogwarts, who wishes to join you in that training - and how extensive I wanted it to be. Please forgive me, Harry, for assuming you would automatically join such a program, but this was before the battle of the Department of Mysteries.
"I told you in your first year, when you were visiting the Mirror of Erised, that I had ways of being invisible other than an Invisibility Cloak. It is my practice to look in on all established student activities while invisible, just out of curiosity. Please do not misunderstand, I had full confidence in you, but I am required to check on everything, and I had to be able to say that I had observed your DA while unseen. I observe all student activities at least once a term.
"Your instructing style - allowing everyone to work at their own pace, helping those falling behind while challenging those succeeding to excel further, and having the better students help those not doing as well - this became my inspiration.
"As to the type of training to offer, I could not countenance anything but the very best training in the world to fight Dark forces. So, the only model for training I could accept was the Auror Academy curriculum, the most advanced of such training in the world."
Harry's eyes bugged out. "You're going to take us to the Auror Academy?" His surprise was evident.
"Goodness me, no. The Academy is busy now training Aurors even though there is a shortage of candidates. Their program is a three-year process that runs eight to ten hours a day, five days a week, and occasional Saturdays. And that doesn't include the time needed for special field training projects.
"No, we are going to take their training curriculum and use it as closely as we can while still maintaining the class schedules required for you to finish and take your N.E.W.T.s two years from now. However, if anyone in the program receives a N.E.W.T. in Defense with an 'Exceeds Expectations' or better, and qualifies in all other regards for Auror employment at the completion of their seventh year, they will enter the Auror Academy in its second year.
"As a matter of fact, the Academy likes this idea so much, that it will ask any seventh year student seriously interested in being an Auror, to stay at Hogwarts for an eighth year instead of going to the Academy for their first year. They have agreed to this because it is the quickest way they can escalate their training schedule.
"Let me make this simpler. You can only qualify for the Paladin Program if you are in sixth or seventh year. Those in seventh year are committing to the Auror Academy to be allowed to stay for an unprecedented eighth year.
"Those entering the Program in their sixth year either do so intending to become an Auror, or wanting to supplement their future educational needs with this most advanced defense training program of its kind.
"For one to qualify, a student must also have secured a place in N.E.W.T.s level Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, with their O.W.L.s grades, or-"
"Oh," said Harry dejectedly. "I guess that leaves me out. Professor Snape-"
"Harry, you are not disqualified yet. I would never want you to repeat this to Professor Snape, but I believe that an 'Exceeds Expectations' should be acceptable for any N.E.W.T.s class. Nonetheless, I have arranged for any rising sixth year who will diligently take part in a summer tutorial, to bring up a maximum of two courses of study one grade to qualify. You need help in Potions. I believe Ronald Weasley needs help in Potions and Transfiguration if he chooses to join you. Those scoring too low in three or more essential courses will not qualify. It may come as no surprise to you that Miss Granger will need no tutoring, and that I plan on asking her to assist tutoring a few others.
"It will be hard work for you, Harry, but will you give me your best this summer on your Potions work?"
"I will, sir." Then Harry's brow knitted. "Will Professor Snape be tutoring me?"
"No, I have him in charge of another project this summer, but he will be very much a part of the Paladin Program come September first, as well as teaching his other courses."
Harry tried to hide his hopefulness at Potions without Snape, and his regret that Snape would be back next term. He assumed the former Death Eater was somewhere spying for the Order of the Phoenix this summer.
"I must add that there is a third type of student that is a unique subset of those wanting to enter Auror training after school. While Professor Umbridge gave me my holiday from Hogwarts," he smiled ruefully at this, "I visited a number of other schools of magic on the continent, in Asia, and in America. I observed a number of ways to improve things, but I pretty much confirmed that Hogwarts is the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, if you will allow me this lack of humility.
"In a number of schools, when I told the headmistress or master of my plans for the Paladin Program, they arranged for me to meet with certain of their students that they felt might like to attend. I only sent out the invitations this morning, so I do not know what response I will receive, but I believe an international flavoring of students from other schools around the world, should help any course of study. Pre-Auror training is no exception. They have much to teach us, and we them.
"I believe," continued Dumbledore, "that we may have one or two full time instructors from these schools join us for the term of this war emergency. I definitely have commitments from several professors to visit for all or a significant part of a term to add to our instruction.
"And now, Harry, that you have agreed to expand the DA, we will have even more layers of Defense training going on."
"Will you give us a professor for the DA to make it more official and to help expand it?"
"Something like that, Harry. Something like that," replied Dumbledore. The headmaster was nearly flushed with excitement.
He went on, "By choosing the extremely difficult Auror Academy defense training methods, I did create one problem for us. You have grown some since the start of spring term, but I believe you've noticed that most of those young men finishing their seventh year are substantially taller and better filled out than you are now. You may have also noticed that Ron's older brothers perform more complex magic more easily than you do. You met Bill and Charlie Weasley after they were fully grown. Didn't they seem much more powerful in some ways?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I remember when I first met those two. They were casually pushing large objects around in the air, and conjuring things out of nothing. They made it look easy. I just thought they were so much more powerful than me."
"They were top students to be sure. Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was a fine student also. But you are much more capable now than they were at the end of their fifth years.
"No, under normal ceircumstances, over the next two years you will change dramatically. You will probably grow several more inches and be as tall as your father, and fill out more. But you will also change magically. You will substantially increase in your magical powers, as will all of your classmates. The magical training you receive in a N.E.W.T.s course outline probably seems daunting to you now, but causing a feather to levitate your first day in charms seemed nearly impossible also, except for Miss Granger of course.
"Over the next two years you will also become more mentally capable to handle these advanced courses. You will feel smarter than you do now for lack of a better way of saying it. All of our courses are designed to challenge you where you are in your development, and take you to the next step of your capabilities.
For the pre-Auror training, all you need is the physical, magical, and mental growth and maturity I have mentioned, but that is not the only maturation you would go through during normal sixth and seventh years. All young witches and wizards go through emotional and hormonal growth during these twenty-four months as well. The problem is that you cannot only grow in those needed three areas. You are a whole being, Harry.
If all are in agreement and you join the Paladin Program, you will start on a series of potions that will, between now and the start of Fall term, turn you physically into the equivalent of a young man finishing his seventh year.
Between now and September first, you will take the potions, eat a special diet to help your body grow, exercise in some very specific ways and at very specific times throughout the day, and one more thing.
The emotional and hormonal growth you will experience has to be allowed to happen and be controlled precisely. Each young Paladin will spend time most days with a member of the opposite sex. Most of the emotional 'stretching' shall we say, must be allowed, even encouraged to occur, but in a very controlled manner. The potions and other circumstances will help make this happen, but you and your fellow participants must exert your willpower at the appropriate times.
"Harry, have you had any dreams of Voldemort since the one about the Grangers?"
"No. It's only been a few days and I've noticed I don't dream about him at all after he's had a defeat, until some other big event, good or bad in his opinion, causes him to connect with me. It's as though he's forgotten he inhabits my dreams. I've only had that one about the Grangers since the battle that night."
"Well, that is fortunate. I know Occlumency lessons were not effective for you in the manner we had hoped, shall we say, but please continue with the mental exercises you learned for now, and inform me right away if you have any dream at all you think in any way attributable to him. I hope to find another instructor for you soon, but I am still of the opinion that if I teach you, it will draw Tom to you. Harry, I am sorry that I didn't explain that to you last year.
"In addition to the rest of the aspects I mentioned, each student in your year in the Paladin Program will receive permission to work on their magic this summer."
Harry was very excited about that, and it showed.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I knew you'd like that, Harry. There will be a number of restrictions. As to the times and place for using magic, the exercises, the visits with young ladies, the special diet, and your potions tutorials - most of it will have to take place in your aunt and uncle's house."
Harry began shaking his head almost violently. "They'll never let me do this. Aunt Petunia has been the best she's ever been this summer, but Uncle Vernon is a bomb about to go off. He'll never agree if I ask him-"
"That's why I'm going to ask him for you, Harry. Leave your Uncle Vernon to me."
"Will you jinx him, sir?" Harry was relishing the idea of the most powerful wizard alive turning his cruel uncle into a slug, or something really bad. "Could you turn him into a flobberworm for the summer?"
"No, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, "your uncle must allow you to participate out of his own free will."
"How will you do that?"
"I will make him an offer he can't refuse. But, back to the other logistics of the Paladin Program during your stay with your mother's family. We will have to use Engorgement Charms and certain other types of spells on your room to create an exercise area and a magical practice arena. You will have to have a special diet prepared for you at the correct times of day, which will be done in your room also, in a kitchen we will create. You will have to be given specific potions, once a day, but during different times of the day. To accomplish all of this, you will have a special assistant with you most of the time."
"An assistant?" Harry asked.
"Actually, 'assistant' in the original sense of the word. Someone helping you for your benefit, not someone to do anything that you don't want to do yourself. Your assistant will help you, but your schedule will be set by the Program. He will be most attentive to your needs, but will make sure you do what needs to be done when you must do it.
"Harry, you are mostly cooperative, but there will be times over the next two months when, as an affect of the potions, you will not want to do what must be done. It won't be your fault. Your assistant will make you do it. That's why you will need someone who really cares for your greater good. It will be mostly a rewarding but occasionally infuriating two months."
"Sir, you say that I will go through in two months what normally takes place in two years. Do I lose two years, or at least twenty-two months of my life?"
"Would you do it if I said 'yes?'"
Harry thought about it for just a moment and nodded his agreement.
Dumbledore smiled. "You are a true Gryffindor, Harry. I am prouder even still of you. But the opposite is true. You will probably live a longer life because of this. I was in the first group of students to enter this physiological acceleration process. We were needed to fight in the last vampire war. It was experimental then and rather painful. All of the physical pain has been eliminated now, although you might feel odd from time to time.
"Harry, I have grown my beard to make myself look older, that and I always seem to cut myself in several places when I shave, but I have quite a youthful face underneath this for someone of my years." He fluffed his beard rather proudly.
"Professor McGonagall was in the last group of students to participate in an acceleration process, during the war with Grindelwald, and she looks much younger than she is."
Harry did not know how young his Transfiguration professor was, but she didn't look that young to him.
"The physical pain of the process was completely eliminated in her day, but the emotional issues were not looked after. The assumption had been that with no actual pain the emotions would not be a factor. The opposite was true. The psychological effects were ignored and those with truly dark thoughts found a way to pursue them covertly. It would have been easy to see if we had looked. I was not one of those administering the process. I was so occupied with the fight with Grindelwald that the few that had so many problems escaped my attention. We caught two of the three before they went too far, and we were able to help them eventually learn to live with their problems. Of course we now know how to recognize and control any possible problem in its infancy, and correct it. So the acceleration process will have no adverse consequences as long as we take steps to ensure the compliance with the necessary exercise, diet, et cetera."
"Professor, you said that you were able to help two of the three who had problems. What happened to the third?"
"The third was unique even among those in that program. He was particularly evil and particularly brilliant. Long before the acceleration potions were given to him he had advanced so far towards the Dark Arts. Oh, if I had only been able to be in two places at once."
"It was Tom Riddle, wasn't it?"
"Yes, Harry. I do believe he would have become as evil as he is now on his own, but he had the help of well meaning witches and wizards at that time. Don't worry. I have devised several methods, some of them surreptitious, to monitor any possible side effects and report them to us before any cause for concern arises."
Thinking about the young Tom Riddle, Harry said, "I'm still not sure inviting Slytherins to join is a good idea."
"Harry, the Sorting Hat does not sing of inter-house cooperation because it rhymes so easily with so many other words and phrases. I would love to see you and Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins working together.
"You know when I was your age, I was almost not allowed to take the acceleration potions for the vampire wars. It was thought that Gryffindors would be too foolishly brave and never control their emotions adequately. Slytherins were considered the ideal - ambitious enough to take the potion and put the advantages to best use, but controlling enough to never allow emotions to interfere with the job at hand. It was an interesting perspective, not without merit even today. Just think about that, Harry."
Then, changing the subject he said, "Harry, are you interested in who will be your assistant for the next two months, looking out for you, cooking for you, leaving your side for only a few hours each day?"
Harry hadn't considered this, but at the mention, he was instantly curious. He nodded his head with a little hesitation.
The headmaster snapped his fingers.
"Mr. Harry Potter Sir. Dobby is so excited, sir. Dobby and Harry Potter Sir is going to spend ever so much time together."
Harry just blinked.
After Professor Dumbledore excused Dobby from the room, he brought up one last subject.
"Harry, you never discussed the prophecy with your friends while you were at school, did you?"
"No, sir." Harry had been feeling better during this conversation. The mention of the prophecy and telling his friends burst his improving mood quite effectively. The professor's silence asked for an explanation of some sort.
"I haven't and I don't plan to - I hope I never have to. People look at me with this scar.... When Hagrid took me to the Leaky Cauldron that first time, I thought it was wonderful that people knew me and wanted to shake my hand. I'd spent all of my life trying to be invisible. Any attention had caused my aunt and uncle to lock me in my cupboard or Dudley to punch me.
"Every year makes more people look at me like I might any minute explode or save the world or get them all killed. If the prophecy gets out it will make this much worse. There'll be articles every day in the Prophet talking about how I'm the only hope, or asking why haven't I done something. And I don't know how Ginny or Ron or Hermione, or the rest of my friends, schoolmates and those in the Order, will react, but they will react, and whatever they do, I don't think I'll like it.
"So I'm asking you, professor, not to tell anyone about this."
Harry saw the slightest shift in Dumbledore's eyes. Had he not been so close, or staring into them so deeply, he would have surely missed it. But in a flash he knew. "You've already told someone, haven't you?"
"Harry, I designed the entire Paladin Program for all of our students, but around your needs because of this prophecy. Professor McGonagall is my deputy headmistress, and Professor Snape is the only one I know that I would trust to manage the preparation and dispensing of the acceleration potions, and monitoring the program."
"Snape knows about the prophecy?" Harry shouted.
"Professor Snape, Harry. You must always show correct respect to your superiors, a concept no less important in times of war, even if you feel that respect is unwarranted. However, I believe it is warranted.
"I trust both Professors McGonagall and Snape. I could not succeed as headmaster, particularly in this time of war, without their superb efforts. I will not apologize for telling them of the prophecy, and I have received their word that they will not tell a soul. They know the importance of keeping that information private.
"This was actually my first logical opportunity to tell you this, though I suppose I could have blurted it out when we chatted at Arabella's - but you will allow that that was not the best time to do so. If in the future I feel it prudent to tell anyone else of the prophecy, I will endeavor to tell you ahead of time, even ask your permission if it is not something I consider absolutely necessary. But I will not promise to do so. I hope I will not have to tell anyone else. But in my various positions, should the need arise, I will do so.
"I don't mean to be harsh with you, but goodness, Harry, this is war! Surely you understand that some matters are beyond your feelings and mine? You must trust me."
Harry contemplated this matter, and then realized that a response was needed. "I understand that you have to do what you feel has to be done. I guess I've always thought you were, I don't know, perfect, a bit mad, but perfect."
Harry smiled ruefully and Dumbledore chuckled, delighted that Harry could joke under the circumstances.
Harry continued, "I also guess I'm glad to know that you're not perfect, though I wish you were, then you could make this all go away."
Harry wiped his left hand over his face in a manner unconsciously expressing his resolution. "If I can make mistakes and live with them somehow, then you should be able to, also. I'd rather trust you than anyone else I know."
"Then you will tell your friends, at least Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, about the prophecy?"
"NO!" Harry's temper flared and he knocked over his pumpkin juice goblet. Fortunately Dumbledore caught it with a flick of wandless magic and put it aright, actually catching the few drops that had made it over the rim.
"I'm sorry I yelled, Professor. But you've not given me any reason why I have to tell them. I still don't want them looking at me like they will, or feeling bad for me like they will. That's my decision. You can override it, but I hope you won't."
The anger in our hero's eyes turned to earnestness during these three sentences. This was not lost on the elder wizard. "All right, Harry. It is not essential, and I will respect your wishes."
Then Harry smiled in an attempt to reassure his headmaster. "Besides, talking with Remus, Moody, and Mr. Granger has made my load a little easier. I slept longer last night than I have since... since that night. I do thank you for that, very much. Er... and I will think about telling my friends about the prophecy, when the time is right, if it is ever right. But it won't be soon."
"Well, I'd hoped your three visitors would help you; I'm glad they did. Your report of their chats earlier certainly indicated that you have learned much and have more to ponder."
"That's for sure, Professor."
"So, Ron, I understand you and Hermione, er...erm. Are you, you know?"
It was possible, that in the years Harry had known Ron, he had seen his friend redder than he was at that moment, but Harry doubted it.
Ron said, "I was just... so worried about them that night. Mum had been at Grimmauld Place when Mrs. Figg's call came in. Mum called everyone she could to be on alert. She called the Burrow first because she thought Dad might be there. That's how I knew right away. She forbade me to go anywhere, besides, she keeps the secure Floo powder behind lock and key. So I couldn't go to Figg's even if I wanted to.
"Mum wasn't free to call or come home for about an hour. She walked through the fireplace and said they were safe, all the while she was packing stuff from the kitchen, you know, spices and her favorite pots and ladles. Took her a couple of long minutes to tell me we were coming here for a while to be with the Grangers."
Ron's blush deepened and he continued. "Well, we didn't know they were going to drop off everyone else on the Knight Bus and travel around until it was dark. Mum said she wasn't worried, but when I saw her look at the clock three times in a minute, I really began to be concerned. I had run upstairs to get Pig to send out a note, when they came to the door.
"I heard Mrs. Black scream one word and stop with a screech. You heard what Mr. Granger did to her, didn't you?" When Harry nodded, Ron continued, "You have to admire his style don't you? If it threatens him, he stabs it. I can't wait for him to meet Draco Malfoy.
"Er... so, I go running downstairs, hear Mrs. Black cut short, so I pull out my wand and charge in. There she was - all right. I was so relieved! She was frazzled but beautiful, She was in my arms before I knew it, and her lips..."
"UGG! Ron! I don't want that picture in my head. Please, mate, just saying 'I kissed her,' is almost too much."
"Well, it was pretty good. I'll leave it at that."
"Did you ask her dad if you could, you know, ask her to be your girlfriend?"
The blush went from bright red to deep, dark red, a Weasley facial color Harry had never seen before. He knew this story would be great.
"Yeah, I did. He figured out what I wanted and took me into the library right after we cleared it out. He pointed me to a chair in front of the desk. When I sat down, instead of sitting in the chair behind the desk, he sat on the desk right in front of me, towering over me. He pulled out that great vicious blade of his and said, plain as you please, 'You don't mind if I clean my fingernails while we talk, do you?'
"I swear, Harry. I do believe I saw a little bit of dried blood on it, up by the handle like."
Harry was all ears now. "What'd you say back?"
"I didn't have to say anything right then. Mrs. Granger came in and stopped dead in her tracks. She got that same look Hermione gets when I am really acting stupid. Know where she gets it now, I do. Well, before I knew what had happened he had that knife back in its arm sheath and his sleeve back down. The man is bloody lightning fast, Harry. He draws it faster than you draw your wand, and no one is as fast as you were at the end of the DA meetings last year."
"What happened next?"
"I'm coming to it. Give a bloke a chance, wouldya? Mrs. Granger was scary. Her voice got all high and she said, 'You had to do it.' I thought she was angry at me at first. Then she said, 'you finally have a reason to wear your Fairbairn,' that's the type of knife it is," Ron interrupted his story again. "Some legendary Muggle fighting knife made by a guy named Fairbairn. So she says, 'You finally have a reason to wear your Fairbairn, and just like you used to joke, you pull it on the first lad we see that takes an interest in our Hermione.' She made him apologize. Then it gets worse. She wanted to know what my intentions were with their daughter. She's standing over me like the Grim waiting to kill me. All he wanted to do was scare me.
"But then she softens. She puts her hand on my shoulder and just says, 'promise me you'll treat her like you want the lads to treat your sister, and everything will be fine.' That's not fair, Harry. I want to kiss Hermione, a lot, but on my own I have barely kissed her on the cheek once or twice since then. Oh! Why'd I ever agree to that? I'm not sure I want anyone to touch Ginny.
"Hermione walked in then. She'd heard the last of it and I could tell this was not going to be pretty. She says, "Mother. Father." She usually calls them 'Mum and Dad.' And I thought Weasleys got angry. All we do is blow up at each other. These Grangers are all mental.
"So Hermione says, 'Mother. Father. How could you embarrass me like this? Don't you know I would never allow anyone to be my boyfriend if they weren't completely honorable? I've known Ron for a third of my life, and only Harry matches Ron when it comes to honor, kindness, and caring for my good.'"
Harry thought that Ron had done a creditable job of mimicking the voices of the three Grangers.
"So then, as if to make some point I still don't understand, she gives me this wonderful deep kiss that seemed to go on forever at the time-"
"Ron!"
"I know, too much information. Now, I sit there talking with her, enjoying her company as a boyfriend - didn't realize until a day later that Hermione'd called me her boyfriend - kind of like that I do. So, I sit there talking with her, enjoying her company as a boyfriend, sneaking a little kiss on her cheek like I promised her parents, and then her parents enter the room. She sees them and tries to pull my tonsils out with her tongue-"
"RON!!"
"I know, I know. But Harry, now I sit with my girlfriend - still like the sound of that - and I'm praying that her parents will enter the room so we can have a good snogging. How mixed up is that?"
"Only you, Ron. Only you."
"Yeah, I know. Why can't anything 'bout girls be easy, like Potions or something?"
Harry made his way back to number four, Privet Drive. While doing the work in the garden his aunt had requested, he realized that Professor Dumbledore never had told him the joke about the snake charmer, the dentist, and the trombone player.
After he had cut the grass, he found Hedwig had arrived with his afternoon mail. Two more letters had arrived from DA members thanking him for the instructions. It was nice to hear from these
friends, even though it had barely been a week since they had parted from Hogwarts. He then turned his attention to the letter that did not appear to be from a DA well-wisher.
Dear Harry,
You may not remember me because of all of the exciting and frustrating events of your life since I left Hogwarts. I am Penelope Clearwater, usually called Penny, and my seventh year was the same year that Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban.
Since then I have found very satisfying work with Muggle-born witches and wizards, especially those who have been orphaned. I find my greatest reward and challenge taking young ones with no awareness of our world and bringing them into our world with the least amount of shock.
I know this transition was most painful for you because I used to date Percy Weasley. He dropped me along with his family once the dubious opportunity to work more closely with our Minister of Magic presented itself. When Percy first fought with his parents and separated himself from them, he came to me for solace. Instead, I agreed with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and he left me. It was quite a row. I have had no contact with him at all since then, until several days ago.
My brother, who is in the Auror Academy, found Percy drunk and spouting off in a disreputable tavern. Percy was defending Professor Dumbledore and you to a bunch of people who, shall we say, did not agree with him. My brother, several of his Academy friends, and I were barely able to get Percy out of there with his life and all his body parts.
The stupidly noble part of Gryffindor Percy had decided he was unredeemable and could never again be with the ones he loved.
"In vino veritas," it says in Latin - In wine (or drunkenness) is truth. Percy confessed that he still loved me but never expected me to forgive him. You daring Gryffindors can sincerely make a girl fall for you with your brave self-sacrifice. Well, Percy is one of you in spades. After we spent several days talking through everything, I forgave him, and I now trust my heart to him once again. He is contrite in his repentance, and he had already taken a substantial cut in pay and prestige to remove himself far from Minister Fudge before I found him that night.
This was a major factor in my believing him. He is back in the Department of International Cooperation, regulating imports, and he said that it is ironic justice that his first case was an inspection of questionable cauldron bottoms.
Being the brave Gryffindor that he is, he had set his mind to just charge into his family home, apologize quickly and then incur their wrath. Being the careful Ravenclaw that I am, I have insisted we develop a plan. If the Weasleys are as fiery as Percy when it comes to fighting injustice, then I do not want to spend months visiting him in St. Mungo's when they "welcome him" back into the family fold with all of their favorite hexes and jinxes.
I have made Percy go over everything he ever said or did that might have upset his family.
Did you know about a letter Percy wrote to his brother Ron, when Ron first made prefect? Percy feels sure Ron would have showed it to you. I actually hope you did see it, because you will have felt its full impact and can choose with full knowledge to help us or not.
The letter encouraged Ron to drop you - Ron's best friend and probably Ron's first real friend. I believe Ron was your first friend also.
I hope you know fully what was written, because I want to ask you to ask Ron to forgive Percy. That letter was the most pointed offense of Percy's vast number of offenses, and may be the deciding factor in the reunion going as smoothly as possible, if it can happen at all.
If I understand things correctly, you have nothing in your life to compare to the love you receive now from the Weasley family. Not one of the Weasleys except Percy has ever been outside their loving embrace. You know how it feels to not be cared for, the other Weasleys do not. I am sure you would go to great lengths to remain connected with that loving family. Understanding that, I hope you would want to reunited with them, knowing what it is like to be 'outside.'
I am asking you to help Percy. He refused to allow me to write this letter, but he has no right yet to make that demand. He believes you could never forgive him. I believe you will forgive him and help us.
However, if you choose not to help, I will certainly understand. Percy's actions for over a year were dreadful.
I will understand any decision you make. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Penelope Clearwater
Vernon Dursley, Director of Sales at the drill manufacturing firm, Grunnings, was as pleased as he could be with himself. He had entered employment at Grunnings right after school, starting in the sales department. He knew his opportunity lay there to far advance himself beyond the limits of his education.
Smeltings had not been, and still was not, a bad school. You could learn there, if you studied, which he had done, when he had to. Vernon thought 'it's just that Smeltings is not Eton or any of the other posh, high and mighty schools that took privileged snotties and turned them into bigger snobs than they already were from a pampered spoiled rich home life.' In Vernon's humble and considered opinion - just ask him about his objectivity - these 'upper class dandies' were a blight on the really capable people who could do so much if they were not held back by their so-called 'betters.'
In his opinion - Vernon was nothing if not fair minded in his opinions.
To Vernon, his true betters were anyone who could possibly help him along the way towards the career path he had chosen. Those "high and mighty," et cetera, et cetera, were those above his station in life who could in no way help him advance, or could and had already proven unwilling to do so.
Grunnings had been a second rate drill manufacturer shortly before being purchased by the Boothby Family Trust. Many outside of the tooling industry consider a drill, the hand tool that holds a drill bit to make holes. Those in the tooling and power tools industries use a different parlance. The cutting drill bits are considered 'drills' and the tools that use these drills are power drills, hand drills, or drill presses. Grunnings manufactured and sold the drills (drill bits) themselves, items that are used up every day and are thrown away - and more importantly, purchased over and over again every day.
The Boothby Family Trust was a holding company that made selected acquisitions of nondescript companies in rather mundane industries ignored by most investment advisors. A Boothby family member always became Chairman, or Chairwoman, of any purchase, but they immediately invested heavily in brilliant minds, before investing in factory innovation or any other modernization efforts.
After the brilliant minds discovered, uncovered, invented, or in any way created an opportunity to drive the acquired company to the top of its relatively unwatched industry, then the Boothby Family Trust invested whatever was needed to drive the competition into despair.
Vernon had not considered Grunnings for employment himself but, and this was a secret unknown to even his wife, one of those people suggested the place as a possible employer at his wedding. Of course he had not known he was one of 'those' people at the time.
Vernon had met Petunia Evans, and had thought her really rather attractive, when he was working as an office messenger during a summer holiday. His family had no funds for trips or the like, so Vernon had to work to make pen money for the school year. They courted and were engaged, and Petunia had insisted on marrying before Vernon had found gainful employment. Petunia's parents had liked Vernon well enough, but had wanted them to wait until he had been established.
Petunia had pitched a perfect fit and Vernon had found himself standing as bridegroom in a tasteful - read small - wedding. Petunia's favored-by-her-parents sister, Lily, had been her maid of honor, and Jerry Hunt, Vernon's Smeltings dorm mate, had been his best man.
Lily had several friends with her that day, obviously those types of people, obviously so because of their clothes. To an objective mind the clothing worn by Lily's dorm mates were of Muggle cut and fashion, but they were just a little bit more colorful than was in vogue at the moment. They were all in the same year as Lily, her fifth year, and they were just too, too, too them.
While waiting for Petunia to finish changing for their honeymoon drive to Bath, a man of indeterminate age, with noticeably gray temples, but a youngish face, dressed non-controversially in black, came up to Vernon and started a quiet conversation. The man asked about the job-search, and Vernon assumed he was a friend of Lily's father. Mr. Evans, not one of them, had said that he would keep an eye out for those hiring someone of Vernon's caliber.
The man introduced himself as Trefford Dintfield. He immediately said that he had heard that Grunnings was hiring, and disappeared in the crowd of well-wishers as Petunia arrived.
Petunia mentioned in passing that Dintfield was an instructor of Lily's - her sister had asked that he be invited to the wedding. Petunia then changed the subject. Before that Vernon had assumed that he was a non-magical friend from before Lily's unfortunate school days.
The first day after the honeymoon, a little fearful about the source but desperately needing a job, Vernon walked into the Grunnings' employment office and was hired in short order. They knew quality and value when they saw it - Vernon had been sure.
Vernon had struggled in his first year and had come near to being let go, but after that summer, and after entirely too much time with Lily, he was unaccountably given the Hoopers Construction account.
Hoopers had not given Grunnings any of their huge drill business in nearly four decades. The then Director of Sales had called it a "gift account" for Vernon. However, Vernon thought that this account would be his death with the company. If he, Vernon, did not succeed in selling drills to Hoopers Construction, he had felt sure that he would be terminated. Vernon had thought he was being set up to fail.
Even though Vernon had been cursed with every piece of bad luck - surely all the other accounts would give him no business for devious reasons, none his fault - there was just the beginning of a crack in Vernon's absolute self-confidence (obliviousness to his own faults). All of that was about to change.
Hoopers Construction's managing director, not a buyer or even the purchasing manager, had welcomed him with open arms. Mr. Charles Hooper took Vernon on a tour of his company and patiently, very patiently, made sure Vernon took notes on everything needed to succeed in selling drills to Hoopers. Vernon just knew that Mr. Hooper, even though he had gone to Eton, recognized quality in the people he met in business.
It was then that Vernon's true business skill was uncovered. His obsequious behavior towards those who could help him, led Vernon to serve Hoopers Construction very well. Vernon made sure everything that Hoopers ever needed was available in inventory. He learned the names of every construction site foreman and did whatever was needed to make sure Hoopers was happy - blindingly happy.
At this time, the business concept of wildly happy customer satisfaction was unheard of. Vernon provided such customer satisfaction to Hoopers in spades. He drove everyone at Grunnings crazy until it was realized just how happy Hoopers really was, and how many drills they were purchasing. Grunnings changed many aspects of its business to help Hoopers Construction, and every other customer of Grunnings benefited from the service changes. However, everyone in a peer position or below Vernon at Grunnings hated him. Vernon's fawning on his superiors and clients was in direct contradiction with the despicable behavior he exhibited to his equals or below.
At this time, the Director of Sales for Grunnings retired, and Vernon was given the position. He taught his sales force how to care for their clients, but he treated his representatives like the idiots he thought they were. Soon Mr. Gladden Boothby gave Vernon an assistant director to manage his sales force and the customer service representatives.
Vernon cared for Hoopers, trained the sales force in his ideas, dreamed up new ways to serve clients, and stayed as far away from his department's staff as his assistant could arrange.
Then the Potter boy arrived. Vernon had pitched a fit and had almost succeeded in talking Petunia into placing the boy in an orphanage. Their finances were tight and Vernon wanted a new car.
Then Mr. Boothby himself called Vernon into his office. There was a new account Grunnings wanted - Lufkin Machinery. Only a person of Vernon's character could crack it. Mr. Boothby had said so himself - good judge of character that man - thought Vernon with total objectivity.
Vernon went at it with his usual charm - or lack thereof - and somehow made the appointment by himself. Once again, the president of Lufkin Machinery greeted Vernon. Once again he was given all of the information needed to inculcate Grunnings into Lufkin Machinery's manufacturing processes. Once again Vernon's true brilliance at designing customer support processes and systems worked its magic, er, excellence.
Vernon bought his new car with the raise he received - a much nicer car than he had planned. Petunia kept her nephew, and they both regretted it.
Now, here it was, the summer of 1996. And Vernon had decided it was now time for the Dursley family to have two cars. Petunia was so busy with the community service work she endured, er, enjoyed to make her look so much a part of the right circles in Little Whinging. She needed her own transportation. This would allow Vernon to buy the Range Rover he so wanted. A big man needed and deserved a big car. And as a director of the prospering Grunnings, he was a big man - physical size had nothing to do with it.
All Vernon had to do was get the contract signed with the Ryan Company. But Tilden Ryan had postponed the meeting to sign several times - always with good reasons and grand cordiality, but Vernon wondered if one of his competitors was trying to squash the deal.
But the appointment was on with Mr. Ryan at 8:00 sharp in the morning. Nothing would stop him now.
___________________
"But, Professor, you want me to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia that you're coming by to visit at 8:00 tonight, but I only tell them at five minutes 'til eight?"
"Yes, Harry."
"But they won't like it. Uncle Vernon especially. He'll explode with such short notice. Why should I say you want to see them?"
"About your enrollment in the Paladin Program. By our laws, you cannot participate without their permission."
"He'll never do anything to help me. Uncle Vernon won't let me say three words about this program before he explodes. Aunt Petunia is being nicer than ever right now. How about waiting until tomorrow midmorning and asking her? He doesn't care if I live or die, just if I make a mess in the living room."
"Your aunt is your blood relation and provides your protection; however, your uncle is the head of the household. Harry, I hope you exaggerate their lack of concern for you. However, I doubt you underestimate his reaction. Just say that I want to make him an offer he will not want to refuse."
"All right, but I think this is going to be disast-, that is, interesting."
___________________
Vernon had called saying that he would be late for dinner. Harry had completed his work in the garden, read his mail, and had been in his room looking unsuccessfully for the Paladin Potion in his books.
Dinner was served at 7:40, and at precisely 7:55, just as his Uncle Vernon finished his desert, and Dudley his second, Harry said, "Uncle Vernon."
"What do you want, boy?"
"Uncle Vernon," Harry gulped and continued, "Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you that he would be here in five minutes to talk to you and Aunt Petunia."
His aunt and uncle were momentarily stunned, but Dudley rose quickly with all of the speed he had acquired in wrestling, and ran up the stairs. The sound of his slamming and locking door shook Vernon out of his stupor.
"WHY ON EARTH--" Vernon Dursley stopped in mid sentence and Harry thought that for a moment, that he was having a stroke.
The boy said, "Professor Dumbledore said that he wanted to make you an offer you won't want to refuse."
More silence. However, his aunt and uncle did manage to draw their eyes to each other.
The silence was so loud in the house that the click from the clock in the living room could be heard, heralding that another minute had passed. That click galvanized Harry's uncle into action.
"QUICK! Turn out all the lights. I'll lock and bolt the doors."
"Uncle Vernon."
"Shush! Maybe if Dundlebore thinks we aren't home...." Harry's aunt and uncle were in full spin now, running around, turning out or knocking over lights, shutting window shades, locking doors, turning off the television.
"Dudley! Turn off your lights, son, and the television up there, too." This did not happen.
"It's Dumbledore, Uncle Vernon, and if-"
"I said 'Quiet,' boy! If it's dark and the house is locked up, he might think-" Vernon ran to the staircase and shouted, "Dudley! Turn OFF the telly and lights unless you want Dunklesnore to visit you up there!"
In a fraction of a second there was an abrupt halt to the sound from that room.
"It's Dumbledore!"
The clock on the mantel rang the first of eight chimes. Harry and his aunt and uncle were in the living room.
"Behind the couch, Petunia!" Vernon shoved Harry down near an end table. "Not a word, Boy!" He threw a book from the coffee table at the lamp in the corner; it was the last light on in the house. As that lamp fell over and the bulb flickered out, Vernon leapt, or at least waddled quickly behind the couch with his wife. As the fifth chime rang he said, "SSHHH!"
The sixth and seventh chimes rang.
Between the seventh and final chime, every light that had been turned off came on. Every broken lightbulb, including the lamp Vernon had broken a few seconds before, popped on and/or reassembled itself.
Professor Dumbledore Apparated into the center of the room. The final chime of the mantel clock rang out.
Harry said to his uncle, "I tried to tell you that a wizard doesn't ring the doorbell, and he conjures light whenever he needs it."
Dumbledore's eyes were fixed on his large pocket watch. It had twelve hands and none of them indicated 8:00, AM or PM. It made three chimes in a quick and erratic pattern and the tall wizard with the long silver beard said, "Your clock is fast. Oh, have you lost something back there, Petunia, Vernon? May I help you find it?"
Author's Notes -
Charlemagne's Paladins - The Paladin's in Muggle history exist just as Professor Dumbledore describes them, as far as Muggle knowledge goes. It remains to be seen if Magical History will tell us anything else.
Drills - Right out of university, my very first job was as a sales representative for what is known in the States as an industrial supply distributor. We sold industrial drills and drilling equipment among thousands of other items factories used on a daily basis.