“I have both good news and bad news tonight,” Dumbledore began clearly, standing at the end of the table in Sirius’ kitchen. “I’ll begin with the bad news – there has been no leak regarding Lord Voldemort’s forces, and no traces were found by the Department of Mysteries in their investigation of the theft of the prophecy.”

   Most of the Order members sitting around the table groaned with frustration. Tonks, her eyes warily following the Headmaster’s expression, chanced a quick glance over at Sirius, who was sitting near the end of the table, next to a sullen-looking Lupin. He nodded quickly with approval, and she turned her gaze back towards Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently for the chatter around the table to die down.

   “You’re meaning to tell me that they found nothing at all in their search?” Dedalus Diggle asked curiously. “Surely You-Know-Who must have left some sort of trace –”

   “The Department chose not to enlist the aid of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said coolly. “And Unspeakables, talented as they are, aren’t trained investigators. They probably wanted to keep the issue internal, especially given the controversy in MLE as of late and because of our involvement.” He threw an angry glare at Sturgis Podmore, who was shifting uneasily in his seat.

   “So is there any point now in continuing to bribe them for access to that Hall?” Arthur Weasley asked tiredly. “I mean, there’s nothing else for us to guard down there, now that the prophecy’s gone. Most of us will be able to catch up on our sleep.”

   “That duty has already been discontinued,” Dumbledore replied firmly. “Patrolling in the Hall of Prophecy is no longer required.

   “Our contact’s been Obliviated, right?” Mad-Eye Moody growled. “We don’t need another leak to Voldemort.”

   “It will not be necessary,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. “Laertes Rawling is supportive of our cause, and is currently willing to continue funneling information to the Order. We will continue to have a steady source of information from the Department of Mysteries.”

   “But what good is that?” Sirius demanded. “If the prophecy’s gone –”

   “That department will likely still be one of Voldemort’s targets, Sirius,” Dumbledore replied seriously. “There is dangerous magic stored in that department, and Voldemort’s agents will certainly try to infiltrate it. Augustus Rookwood is living proof that Voldemort has an interest of what happens in that area of the Ministry.”

   “Speaking of the Ministry, did Fudge provide us with an explanation about this ‘Hogwarts Analysis & Investigation Team’?” Professor McGonagall asked testily. “Or why he’s placing them under the command of Dolores Umbridge?”

   “I have no power to overrule the Educational Decrees without the support of the school governors and the Wizengamot,” Dumbledore said with a trace of a sigh. “Support, unfortunately, in which the Order does not have. The most we can do, in our current situation, is to have our own agents within that group. Luckily for us, Scrimgeour approved the assignment of both Kingsley and Tonks to the team. However, their presence will not diminish the obvious threat.”

   “Kemester,” Moody growled. “Why Bones put him on HAIT –”

   “She did it as compensation for the inquiry, Alastor, you know that better than anyone,” Kingsley replied tiredly. “He needs some way to rebuild his reputation, disgraced as he is. The way things are, no Wizengamot court will hear a case he brings forward.”

   “He is a security risk, especially to the students,” McGonagall said stiffly, “and from what I’ve heard of this Umbridge woman, she won’t exercise the necessary control over him, especially considering Hogwarts is a school, not a Ministry office.”

   “And there’s the possibility Voldemort will make a run at him,” Sirius growled. “Dumbledore, can’t you petition Bones to have Kemester removed? He’s a threat –”

   “The Hit Wizard knows better than to take any action towards Harry while I remain at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said briskly, “and I do not believe that Voldemort would go after Kemester as a mole, given that he is already under suspicion. However, Sirius, you do indeed have a point about Voldemort. He may indeed take the opportunity to place an agent on that team, for espionage purposes. It is fortunate that I will be directly involved with briefings regarding the team, to ensure cooperation between the team and Hogwarts staff.”

   There were dubious looks exchanged at that remark, and Tonks could barely restrain an incredulous chuckle. Yeah, and with the hotheads that I’m sure Kemester’s going to bring with him onto HAIT, Dumbledore will certainly have his hands full. On the plus side, though, it’ll mean I’ll be able to have more contact with Dumbledore, and that’ll help me track his motives.

   “Something doesn’t make sense, though,” Mr. Weasley said slowly, scratching his chin. “Why would You-Know-Who try and put an agent in HAIT when he already has Severus Snape as a loyal agent?”

   Sirius snorted. “Presuming anyone’s found the bastard yet.”

   “On that note, Sirius, I have some good news,” Dumbledore began, a small grin crossing his face. “Severus Snape has been found, and after some discussion, is willing to retake his position as Potions Professor at Hogwarts, albeit reluctantly.”

   “Well, it’s about time, too!” McGonagall snapped. “Term begins in a few days!”

   “What about the Order?” Lupin asked with a frown. “Is he… coming back?”

   Dumbledore sighed. “He refuses to set foot in Grimmauld Place as long as either Sirius or Harry is living here. He has no qualms continuing to pass information to us, but he will no longer attend any of our meetings.”

   Sirius smirked. “Good. Looks like Snivellus picked up a few brain cells in his absence.”

   Dumbledore shot Sirius a sharply disapproving look. “It would be far easier for all of us, Sirius, if you two resolved your differences –”

   “You’re wasting your time, Professor, it’s not going to happen,” Sirius cut him off, all happiness gone from his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Snivellus isn’t welcome in this house – not like he ever was before, but there are some lines that are not crossed.”

   “Would you care to enlighten me –”

   Sirius glared at Dumbledore. “I’m sorry, Professor, but this is a personal matter – and I’m not backing down. Snape doesn’t come here, period.”

   Tonks caught the slight edge in Sirius’ voice, and she understood his plan instantly. Sirius knows that Snape’s got an inkling of what Harry’s done and what he’s planning, and unless Dumbledore’s willing to change Headquarters – unlikely – this action keeps Snape somewhat isolated from the rest of the Order. He might be able to tell Dumbledore, but he won’t go out of his way to inform the rest of the Order like he might have if they were all gathered at a meeting with him. Smart move, Sirius, even if you are risking antagonizing Dumbledore…

   The Headmaster stared at Sirius for a long few seconds before shaking his head. “It is a shame that some old wounds run so deep.”

   “With respect, Professor, I don’t give a damn about what Snivellus thinks,” Sirius growled, bringing his chair back down off its back legs with a solid clunk. “He’s not stepping in my house, and it’ll be a bloody miracle if there are no conflicts between him and Harry this year. Why you aren’t letting him drop Potions –”

   “He’ll write his O.W.L just like any other student, Sirius,” Dumbledore said, steel in his voice, “but Harry’s recent behavior is concerning. From what Professor Snape has told me, there has been a marked shift in his behavior and actions in the past month, particularly regarding his treatment of others and who he trusts.”

   “You can’t believe a word that comes out of that traitor’s mouth –”

   “Sirius, shut up,” Kingsley snapped. “I trust Snape’s rational judgment a lot more than I trust yours these days, particularly regarding the mess of Potter’s trial and conviction. I still think that Scrimgeour knows more than he’s telling –”

   That’s because he does, Tonks thought, a twinge of unease filling her gut. Please Sirius, control your temper, you don’t want to give away anything that’ll jeopardize Harry’s plan…

   “–And that Harry somehow got in contact with the head of my department while I was Hit Wizard custody,” Kingsley finished in a low voice. “The question that I’m asking – and that Kemester’s likely going to be asking too, if he gets the opportunity – is how the hell did Potter manage to convince Scrimgeour to let him off so easily. And I know you were involved in this somehow, Sirius, don’t even try to deny it.”

   Sirius glared at Kingsley. “I’m not saying anything, Shacklebolt, and you’ve got no proof one way or the other –”

   “That’s enough,” Dumbledore said firmly, stopping the argument instantly. “I do not know the complete reasons behind the shifts in Harry’s behavior, and I fear that part of those shifts may have been influenced by my own decisions as of late. Regardless of that, he remains as distrustful and angry as ever, with no signs of this behavior abating. I want those assigned to HAIT and his professors to keep a close eye on him, in case he attempts to do anything reckless or dangerous that could place him in extreme danger.”

   Sirius shook his head. “Harry’s not that stupid, Professor.”

   “He is far from stupid, Sirius, I agree,” Dumbledore said with a nod. “After all, by some action of his, he managed to escape from the Wizengamot practically untouched, and deceived me in the process. He has become stronger and craftier than I could have hoped or expected for at his age. But I fear that in the process he is alienating people that only wish to help him.” The professor nodded at Lupin, who closed his eyes, an expression of pain on his face. Tonks shifted uncomfortably in her seat – even though she didn’t agree entirely with all of Harry’s plans, she knew as well as anyone that the werewolf couldn’t be trusted any more. He contacted Snape of all people, and in the process likely tipped Dumbledore off. I may not like that Harry’s distrusting, but at least he’s got a reason.

   “It doesn’t help,” Mr. Weasley said finally, “that the Daily Prophet’s been smearing Harry all summer, and a lot of people are going to believe what the Prophet says. He’ll lose friends over it, even in Gryffindor.”

   “Harry’s never had a lot of friends,” Sirius said roughly.

   “And that is why he cannot afford to lose the few he has, for they can provide him assistance unlike any others,” Dumbledore finished somberly. “Unfortunately, we may already be too late to salvage one of those friendships.”

   None of them needed the name, even as the thought of it lingered over the table like Mundungus’ tobacco smoke, and Tonks felt a sick feeling of sadness and frustration fill her gut as she thought of the unfortunate circumstances and mistakes that had torn that relationship to shreds.

   Hermione.

*          *          *

   “Look, Harry, I know you’re angry with her –”

   “Hermione’s angrier with me than I am with her, Ron,” Harry interrupted bitingly as he leaned against the wall of the bedroom he shared with Ron. “I just can’t trust her anymore.”

    “You should at least give her another chance!” Ron said with frustration. “Damn it, Harry, wouldn’t it be more mature for you to come out and say something first in this miss?”

   “And you’re lecturing me on maturity now?” Harry remarked scathingly. “After last year?”

   Ron’s cheek went pink. “It was a mistake on my part, Harry, I know that, but this is different! You think I like being stuck in the middle of you two? That you won’t trust me because you think I’ll tell Hermione about your plans or whatever you did –”

   “She already figured enough of it out on her own, and she doesn’t approve,” Harry snapped. “I’m not wasting my time trying to convince her otherwise. Did she put you up to this?”

   “I hate seeing my best friends at each other’s throats, all right?” Ron snarled. “By Merlin, Harry, you might be angry, but that doesn’t mean –”

   “As I said, she’s more angry with me than I am with her,” Harry replied evenly. “And I’m not wasting my time and effort trying to make her see my end of this. She knows why I acted the way I did, and if she doesn’t like it, we have nothing more to say to each other.”

   “Why don’t you just put it behind you!” Ron exclaimed, his temper finally coming to the surface. “She doesn’t like what you did – I get it. We all can move on with our lives –”

    “Ron, you don’t get it!” Harry said heatedly, slamming a fist against the wall of the bedroom with an audible thud. “If I can’t trust her, how can I rely on her against Voldemort? How can we ever have a rational, logical conversation again if I can’t trust that she’ll go running to someone with my plans or ideas? How can we…” He swallowed back the rush of bile in his throat. “How can Hermione and I still be friends, then, Ron? If you can tell me how Hermione and I can maintain an honest, trusting relationship, then by all means do so! But until then –”

   “If you don’t trust her because she disapproves of what you did –”

   “Ron, it’s more than that!” Harry growled, his own patience fading. “I’m sure Hermione’s got an idea of what I’ve done. Bravo to her, then. And I’m sure you’ve got some idea by now too, Ron. You’re not stupid.”

   “Thank you,” Ron replied coolly.

   “It’s the truth, Ron, and so is this: things are only going to get worse.” Harry put emphasis on every word, his eyes blazing in the dim room as they locked onto his best friend’s gaze. “You know what I’m going to have to do in the end, and Ron… look, I can’t jeopardize my chances at Voldemort for Hermione’s approval.”

   “She knows that, Harry –”

   “If she does, she’s in denial of it,” Harry spat. “Let’s face the facts here, Ron: either I kill Voldemort, or he kills me, but it would be phenomenally stupid of him to go looking for me, because he knows I’ll have to come after him eventually. ‘Neither can live while the other survives’, that’s what the damned prophecy said, and that means if I want to have a life, Ron, I’m going to have to kill him – and probably not just him either. No, he’ll have a few lines of Death Eaters that’ll fall first.”

   Ron swallowed hard. “Harry, you know I’ll back you up when the time comes, and so will Hermione –”

   “Ron, use your fucking head!” Harry snarled, his patience finally burning away. “Hermione won’t back me up because she’s got some deluded idea that Dumbledore’s plan to react instead of actually doing something is the right one, and since I’m the linchpin of it, I must blindly follow! But a reactionary plan won’t work this time – hell, that’s probably why the Order’s got no bloody clue what to do now that Voldemort’s got the prophecy. So I’m going to have to do something, and I’m going to have to use expedient methods to do so.”

   “Harry –”

   “And neither Hermione nor Dumbledore are going to approve of those methods, Ron, oh no,” Harry continued, completely ignoring Ron. “Those methods are dirty and nasty and likely won’t be featured on the cover of Witch Weekly or The Daily Prophet. But you know what, Ron? When it comes down to it, I really don’t give a fuck, because if I don’t do something, people are going to die, and the longer this mess is drawn out, the worse it’s going to get. I can’t just sit back and wait until Dumbledore’s ready to help me, because during that time, Voldemort’s going to be moving and making my life a living hell to draw me out so he can finish this, once and for all.” Harry snorted with disgust. “Damn good strategy, really.”

   “Harry, look –”

   “Funny thing, though, is that Dumbledore already knows that I’m going to have to kill Voldemort in the end, and he doesn’t mind being the man behind the scenes, pointing me towards him. He doesn’t mind using the same tactics I’m talking about – he just doesn’t want me using them.” Harry gave a bitter laugh. “The power behind the throne doesn’t like it when the throne is vacant and the king is thinking for himself!”

   “Harry –”

   “And Hermione’s the same damned way, except she’s content to follow the rules, to be manipulated and used and sacrificed like a pawn on the goddamned chessboard –”

   “Harry, I get it!” Ron interrupted, blowing out a breath of exasperation. “Damn it, Harry, I understand, but all of that doesn’t matter, now. You don’t bloody need to rant about it either! Dumbledore’s not stopping you from hunting You-Know-Who –”

   “He’s making damned difficult,” Harry growled, “and even you can’t deny that!”

   “Okay, fine,” Ron said impatiently. “Damn it, Harry, Lupin was right – you are getting bloody paranoid! All I’m saying is that I’m tired of being stuck in the middle between my best friends.  You think I like this – having to hear both you and Hermione rant on this? I know it’s going to be hell at the end when you’re facing You-Know-Who, and I know you might not trust Dumbledore anymore, but you know what, Harry? I don’t care. There are no ‘sides’ or ‘factions’ in this mess, and I’m bloody sick and tired of hearing about it! In the end, it’ll be like Dumbledore said a month ago: you’ll do what you want, and so will he. He won’t stop you from trying to kill You-Know-Who, and he’s not trying to stop you now!”

   “Not yet,” Harry replied grimly.

   “Not ever,” Ron replied heatedly. “Harry, I still want to be your friend, and I’m sure deep down, so does Hermione, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. The difference between me and her is that she doesn’t like the way you do things.”

   “And what about you?” Harry asked coolly, crossing his arms over your chest.

   Ron threw up his hands. “I don’t bloody know what you want me to say, Harry! In the end, You-Know-Who’s got to go, and I’d prefer that I don’t lose both my friends in the process. Can you at least understand that?”

   Harry looked at Ron’s frustrated expression for a long few seconds. Finally, he nodded. “I can understand that, Ron, I really can. I only wish Hermione could.”

   “Give her a chance,” Ron said, a pleading note in his voice.

   Harry shook his head. “Ron, you know the truth of this as well as I do: even if I gave her a chance, she wouldn’t take it.” He pulled open the door to the bedroom and stepped out in the hallway.

   “Harry…”

   He looked back at Ron, standing alone in the center of the bedroom they shared. “I can trust you, Ron – I know that now – but I can’t trust her. I’m sorry.”

   Then he slowly closed the door and walked down the stairs, not noticing the three flesh-coloured strings shooting back down the hallway.

*          *          *

   “Any new information?” Harry asked as Tonks quickly closed the door to the drawing room behind her.

    “Just a second,” she replied as she raised her wand and started muttering.

   Harry turned to Sirius, an incredulous look on his face. “It’s that important?”

   “We don’t want to be overheard,” Sirius said grimly, his hand tracing the thin sheen of dust on the glass cabinets in the room. “And to think that Molly wanted us to have this house completely cleaned before you went back to Hogwarts…”

   Harry laughed bitterly. “I think a court case before the tribunal is slightly more important than cleaning up this place, Sirius, and considering how it went…”

   “I think that should be enough,” Tonks said, stowing her wand quickly in her pocket as she locked the door. “I layered a few of the charms – there’s no way Snape or anyone else will be able to eavesdrop this time.”

   “So they found Snape, then?” Harry asked disappointedly.

   “Yep,” Sirius spat, “and he’s willing to go back and teach at Hogwarts. Outright refuses to set foot here, but I just figure that’s an added bonus.”

   “Dumbledore wasn’t pleased with that –”

   “Tonks, when it comes to this, it doesn’t matter what Dumbledore cares about,” Sirius cut her off bluntly. “He can find a new Headquarters if he wants Snivellus to attend our meetings.”

   “So we now have to assume that Voldemort’s got some inkling of what I did with Scrimgeour,” Harry said, clenching his fists with frustration. “Snape might not know all the details, but it’s still too much.”

   “It’s not like Voldemort can do much from in hiding –”

   “He broke into the Ministry once already, Tonks,” Sirius muttered, rubbing his unshaven jaw. “And if he can neutralize Harry in some way –”

   “The case files that Scrimgeour has,” Harry growled. “My case files, and the ones he confiscated from Kemester during the inquiry. If Voldemort leaks those out –”

   “Or to Kemester,” Tonks murmured. “Damn it, Harry, you’re right.”

   “Worst of all, there isn’t anything we can do to stop it,” Harry said, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Tonks and I will be Hogwarts, and Sirius is stuck here. I guess we’ve got to rely on Scrimgeour’s agreement, then.”

   “That’s precarious,” Tonks said with a snort.

   “He’s still your boss, Tonks.”

   “Doesn’t mean I like the man, particularly after seeing those files and financial statements,” Tonks shot back. “Don’t trust him anymore, either.”

   “But from his perspective, what’s the gain in releasing anything, or allowing them to be released?” Sirius asked with a shrug. “In short, there isn’t any – he’ll have to reveal his part in this conspiracy, and that’ll ruin his political career. He’ll want to keep those files well-protected.”

   “What about Voldemort?” Harry asked, his eyes gleaming. “Any new information?”

   Sirius snorted. “Snape’s probably told Dumbledore something, but I didn’t hear it, and he didn’t tell the rest of the Order either. Other than that… nothing. It’s like Voldemort’s dropped off the face of the planet.”

   “Probably exactly what he wants us to think,” Tonks added, wrinkling her nose. “But we can’t do much about that either.”

   “What about that bilateral group the Ministry set up?” Harry asked sharply. “Anything new about them? Any luck convincing Dumbledore –”

   “To throw Kemester off?” Sirius finished with a scowl. “I wish. Nope, he’s still on the team.”

   “On the plus side, so am I,” Tonks added brightly. “And that gives the three of us a big advantage, especially with my Metamorphmagus ability.”

   “You can funnel information between me and Sirius,” Harry reasoned, a small grin breaking onto his face. “That way we could stay in communication… even though we already have those mirrors –”

   “Let Tonks keep the mirror,” Sirius said suddenly, beginning to pace. At Harry’s skeptical expression, Sirius chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not losing my mind, Harry. Tonks’ll likely be close to Hogwarts anyways, and she’ll be able to do more for you than I will… at least while I’m still stuck here.” He gave the glass cabinets and the massive family tapestry on the far wall a disgusted glance.

   “Any luck getting that changed?” Harry asked sympathetically.

   “Not a bloody chance,” Sirius replied heavily. “But at least this way, I’ll be able to funnel some details about what the Order’s doing to you, so you can work on your plans.”

   Harry scowled. “Right… my plans.”

   Tonks cocked an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

   “When is there not?” Harry replied bitterly. “I don’t have any clue what Voldemort’s planning, and that’s forcing me to react to him rather than the other way around. The only real plan I’ve got is to accumulate as much information on him and the Death Eaters as I can, and start training on my own, like I did before the Third Task a few months ago.” He shrugged. “I mean, it can’t hurt. Wouldn’t be bad to get an edge up on my schoolwork too – apparently O.W.L. year is brutal.”

   “It is,” Tonks and Sirius answered at the exact same time.

   “Wonderful.”

   “Is… is Hermione going to be –” Tonks began tentatively.

   “No,” Harry said flatly. “She’s not going to be involved. Ron… maybe, but that’ll be on a ‘need-to-know’ basis.”

   “Fred and George are still on your side,” Sirius said fairly. “And I’m sure Ginny would do anything you asked of her.”

   “Yeah, about that,” Harry said uneasily. “Is it just me, or has she been spying on me?”

   “She’s a teenage girl, Harry,” Tonks replied with an easy smile. “Teenage girls spy on everyone. Speaking from experience, of course.”

   “I don’t think she outgrew whatever crush she might have had,” Harry said, scratching his chin idly, “and the last thing I need right now is that kind of complication.”

   Sirius smirked. “Most guys your age would be killing for it –”

   “Sirius, I have other priorities,” Harry interrupted testily. “If anything, it’s getting a bit unnerving.”

   “You’ll be able to avoid her at Hogwarts, you shouldn’t need to worry about it,” Tonks said bracingly. “Besides, given the unpleasantness that’s bound to come up with HAIT this year, I’m sure you’ll have other things to worry about.”

   “I need more allies,” Harry muttered. “In and out of Hogwarts. Ones that I can trust.”

   “What about that Fleur girl you met at the bank?” Sirius asked with a frown. “I’m sure she’d be willing to help you.”

   “Yeah, as soon as I return the Potter case file, and I’m not doing that until I find out whatever happened to the rest of my parents’ money,” Harry replied tersely. “I don’t know, Sirius, even if I could trust her –”

   “She could be an ally either way, Harry,” Tonks said with a shrug. “Really, the more people you have on your side outside of Hogwarts, the better. And she’s certainly competent – I mean, she was picked as a Triwizard Champion, right?”

   “It doesn’t solve the problem of reestablishing contact, though,” Harry said, frustrated. “I need to meet with her in person if I want this contact to be completely secret, and there’s not many opportunities left for you to do that before Hogwarts.”

   “Why don’t you just meet up in Diagon Alley?” Sirius asked suddenly, his eyes lighting up. “I’m sure she’d be willing to meet with you – and you have an easy alibi. I mean, who’s going to question a student going shopping for school supplies?”

   “Didn’t Dumbledore request that Molly handle the supplies this year?” Tonks asked with a frown. “Not that I disagree with the plan, but –”

   “It does give me an alibi,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I’d have to be careful, though. But I’m not sure if making a trip to Gringotts would be particularly wise right now, and I’m sure that Lupin will bring that up.”

   Sirius deflated somewhat. “I didn’t think of that,” he conceded. “I can redirect Remus’ questions, but that doesn’t solve the Gringotts situation.”

   “Do you think Fleur could get you in without an investigation or search?” Tonks asked, a small grin forming on her face. “You could rendezvous in Diagon Alley, she could escort you into Gringotts, and then afterwards you two could have your talk.”

   “It could work,” Harry finally said after a few seconds of thought. “It still seems too simple, though. And it’s not like hiding in plain sight will work much either – one sighting by a reporter and everything goes to hell, and given the way that damned Prophet keeps plastering my photo on the front page, likely everyone in the damned world knows my face by now.” He looked up at Sirius, and the bitter expression returned to his face. “And even though I was cleared and I paid my fine, it won’t be pleasant walking around in public.”

   Sirius looked grim. “Harry, believe me, I know how you feel. Hell, imagine what it would be like for me – pretty much the same scenario, except I spent twelve years in Azkaban over it.”

   “Do you think you could get the message to Fleur, Tonks?”

   Tonks smirked. “Easily. You’re learning.”

   “Well, the less traceable I am, the better, because odds are Kemester’s still going to be looking for a way to haul me in,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I’m assuming you’re coming.”

   “Of course she is,” Sirius replied, cocking an eyebrow. “Undercover, of course, but you need someone there in case everything goes sour.”

   “I think you just want me to dress up like Nymphadora Vuneren again, Sirius,” Tonks replied mockingly.

   Sirius shrugged. “It’s a damned good cover story, if I do say so myself. And besides, I’m not the only one.” He shot a salacious wink at Harry, who shook his head and tried to keep the dull redness from creeping up into his cheeks.

   “When are you thinking about meeting Fleur?” Tonks asked, wisely not commenting on Harry’s embarrassment.

   “As soon as possible,” Harry said quickly. “Can you send the letter?”

   “Not a problem.” Tonks replied easily. “I’ve got a bit of a holiday before joining the HAIT team anyways – hell, nobody will miss me.” She winked at Harry. “Although,” she added in a feigned sultry voice, “I doubt Miss Vuneren would say the same when she walks down Diagon Alley –”

   She couldn’t say anymore, because Sirius had burst out laughing and Harry was shaking his head, a surprisingly rare smile on his face.

*          *          *

   “Got a response from Fleur?” Sirius asked as Harry slit open the envelope Fred had tossed him from across the table.

   “Think so,” Harry replied, quickly tearing open the envelope and pulling out the slightly creased note. It was short, as if it had been dashed off with only a minute’s notice.

   Fortescue’s ice-cream shop, tomorrow at three. Ask for Miss Delacour – I’ll be waiting.

   Sirius frowned. “Seems awfully abrupt for a girl like her. Isn’t she French?”

   “I don’t think that has anything to do with it, but I think you’re right,” Harry replied in a low voice, noticing both Fred and George watching them intently. I’m fairly sure they can be trusted, but it’s better to be safe than sorry… “Something’s gone wrong.”

   “We don’t need to assume that, but there’s something strange about this,” Sirius said tensely. “You want more backup?”

   “It’s too risky, Sirius,” Harry muttered. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got the feeling that she’s being watched.”

   “By who?”

   “No idea, but it’s worrying,” Harry replied darkly, “and I’m starting to think that my case file’s not as closed as Scrimgeour claimed.”

*          *          *

   “Well,” Tonks said, straightening her cloak primly, “are you ready for this, Harry?”

   “No.”

   Tonks rolled her eyes. “Come on, Harry, it won’t be that bad. And think of this – if they’re looking at me, they won’t be looking at you.”

   “Load of consolation there, Tonks,” Harry replied wearily. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

   A few seconds later, the archway had opened up, and Harry and Tonks stepped into the crowded alleyway. As Harry had expected, the wizarding alley was packed with people – mostly students and their parents, getting supplies for school. Seems busier than usual this year, Harry thought to himself. If the wizarding world is expanding this much, Hogwarts is going to start getting really crowded…

   “You know, people are starting to stare at us,” Harry muttered to Tonks. “I should have brought the Invisibility Cloak –”

   “You wouldn’t have been able to use it effectively here,” Tonks replied quickly, her eyes scanning the crowd warily. “Fortescue’s is on the left over there – I’ll be at Twillfit & Taddings if you need me.”

   “Isn’t that place a poncy shop for rich purebloods?” Harry asked wryly. “Why would the Nymphadora I know be spending any time in there?”

   “Oh shut up, you.”

   “It’s Harry Potter, look!”

   Although all of his instincts screamed for Harry to turn around and see the person who had shouted out his identity, he didn’t look back. I’m not giving him what he wants… he’s trying to provoke me…

   All at once, he began to hear the murmurs of the crowd as he continued to walk – angry murmurs, most of them.

   “It is Potter, what do you know…”

   “He shouldn’t be allowed in public, after what he did…”

   “Prophet says he’s a murderer now, just like Black…”

   Harry closed his eyes against the rage rising in his chest. They’re ignorant, all of them, he thought to himself, focusing his eyes on the sign of Florean Fortescue’s ice-cream parlor. I can’t let myself be provoked, I can’t give in…

   Someone shoved him, roughly, and he nearly stumbled. He turned and saw two young men, disgusted expressions on their face as they scowled at Harry.

   “Watch where you’re walking, criminal filth,” one of them said. “You don’t belong here.”

   Rage was rising up in his gut, but he forced it down as he turned away, his hands clenched tightly into white-knuckled fists.

   “What?” the man shouted. “Got nothing to say to me, Potter? Think you’re above us now? You should be in Azkaban, Potter! Fucking prison, where freaks like you belong!”

   There was the sound of breaking glass, and Harry turned to see a particularly jagged hunk of glass from a shattered bottle whistling at his face –

   “Evanesco,” Tonks said, her voice dripping with contempt as the glass vanished out the air. Harry’s hand went towards his own wand, but at the look on Tonks’ face, he thought better of it. The last thing I need is an excuse for the Ministry to haul me in –

   “That was crystalline glass, you idiot! You’re gonna pay for that!” a scrawny potion-maker shouted, staring at the glass bottle that the young man had grabbed off his display table outside the apothecary and broken.

   The man snorted. “Make Potter pay for it: he doesn’t mind buying things – particularly people’s lives.”

   “Harry, leave,” Tonks whispered, her eyes glaring daggers at the smugly smiling young man and his grinning companion. “I’ll deal with them.”

   Harry nodded with agreement and picked up the pace, moving through the crowd briskly and ignoring the looks of hatred from those he passed.

*          *          *

   “There was trouble, wasn’t there?” Fleur asked, moving to rise from her booth seat, but Harry gestured for her to stay down.

   “Yeah, but it’s being dealt with,” he replied, letting go of the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as he sat down. “Fortescue didn’t want to let me in here.”

   She cocked an eyebrow at that. “Because of this mess regarding the Prophet –”

   “Partially,” Harry replied heavily. “He doesn’t want to lose customers, and I can understand that, at least.”

   “This is an ice-cream parlor, not top cuisine!” Fleur hissed indignantly.

   “Better not let Fortescue hear that,” Harry warned her in a low voice. “He likes his ice cream, that man does.”

   “Indulges in his own stock?”

   “I would,” Harry admitted with a shrug. At the blonde’s incredulous expression, he raised his hands in exasperation. “What? It’s damned good ice cream!”

   “I don’t think you contacted me to discuss ice cream, Harry,” Fleur said quietly.

   “True enough,” Harry replied. “I need your help.”

   “Again?”

   Harry was stunned. “You… you remember what happened at the bank? I thought –”

   “The Confundus Charm combined with the Stunning Spell was good, I don’t deny it, and it kept the investigators away, but I do not forget what happened in the archives,” Fleur replied, a trace of a grin on her face. “The combination of the spells left me extremely confused and unable to provide any useful recollections, and by the time I had remembered, the Ministry investigation had been halted and I had left Gringotts before the internal investigation could reach me.”

   “What?” Harry said, his eyes going wide. “You – you left Gringotts?”

   “It was your advice that gave me the idea, Harry,” Fleur replied simply. “I took a job at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Finance, where the few things I actually learned in Gringotts have come to good use.”

   “Doesn’t help me, though,” Harry muttered.

   “You seem disappointed. I thought you would be happy –”

   “It’s not that, Fleur,” Harry said hastily. “I just need a way into Gringotts and around any sort of suspicion the goblins might still have, and I thought you could have been able to help me... bypass some of those difficulties.”

   Fleur pursed her lips. “I might be able to get you in, but Harry, the goblins technically could not stop you from entering Gringotts, even without my help –”

   “But they could make life very difficult or notify the Ministry,” Harry said darkly, “and neither of which I want to happen.”

   Fleur’s thin eyebrows narrowed. “What are you planning this time, Harry?”

   “I still have the papers relating to my parents’ vaults, which apparently were sealed by the Ministry nearly fourteen years ago,” Harry replied evenly. “I want the vaults unsealed, and I want to know why the financial documents in that folder were woefully incomplete.”

   “Incomplete?”

   “Things were missing,” Harry growled. “No documentation what was in the vault, no transfer statements, no trial or hearing transcripts, not even a press statement or clipping from the Prophet. That folder was filled with legal filler papers, and I want to know where the real documents are.”

   “Welmon would have a heart attack if you ‘visited’ him again, if that’s what you’re planning,” Fleur noted, amusement in her tone as she sipped on her drink. “But you are likely heading in the wrong direction, I think.”

   “How’s that?” Harry asked suspiciously.

   “The Department of Magical Law would have full court transcripts of anything that occurred within that timeframe, and the Department of Magical Finance would likely have paperwork as well,” Fleur said thoughtfully. “Probably in their archives.”

   “Could you access it?”

   Fleur shook her head. “I would require clearance I do not have, and will not likely be able to acquire, at least not for a few years.”

   “Well, it was worth a try,” Harry muttered.

   Fleur leaned forward, her eyes intent. “What is this about, Harry?”

   “Are you being followed?” he whispered, as he leaned closer, his eyes not leaving Fleur’s.

   “Watched, nothing more.”

   “What? Why didn’t you –”

   “There is a difference between being watched and followed, Harry,” Fleur said tightly. “Being followed requires effort, and it means that the pursuer cares about the target. Being watched just implies that eyes may be upon you.”

   “Magical surveillance?” Harry asked sharply.

   Fleur shrugged. “Possibly. I’m not sure, but I know that there is someone attempting to keep an eye on me.”

   “That isn’t good for me,” Harry growled. “Not good at all. Any idea who?”

   “My guess is that it is my superiors in the Ministry,” Fleur replied, her eyes darting around the ice-cream parlor. “Even though the investigation into Gringotts was shut down by Scrimgeour, I have reason to believe that they would keep an eye on those who were involved – and I’m one of the few they could track.”

   “So they haven’t managed to identify the explosive residue yet from the fireworks?”

   Fleur frowned. “So you did rig the explosives.”

   “Wasn’t me – Weasley twins set it up, but that’s not the point. Did the Ministry ever find anything?”

   “I don’t know, Harry. All I know is that before Kemester’s inquiry, any files related to Gringotts were closed. According to rumor, Scrimgeour had them personally sealed, and I had no desire to interfere.” She sighed. “Especially considering that extradition would not be difficult, given my position.”

   “They’d throw you out of the country?”

   “It is not a big loss, but it would be a mark on a record that has remained spotless.” Fleur crossed her arms over her chest coolly. “I have no desire, at the current moment, to return to France.”

   “But your family –”

   “They are not a concern,” Fleur replied icily. “You have not answered my question, Harry, and you asked for me. What do you want?”

   Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes growing cold. “I want a contact, someone I can trust and rely on while I’m at Hogwarts, and you’re one of the few people who fit the criteria to a tee.”

   “How can I,” Fleur asked suspiciously, “be able to help you? You’re still going to be at Hogwarts.”

   “Information,” Harry said immediately. “You remember from Dumbledore’s speech at the end of term, when he said that… that Cedric was killed by Voldemort?”

   Fleur swallowed hard. She probably feels the same pain I do about it, Harry thought to himself.

   “I remember,” she whispered.

   “Well, Voldemort killed Cedric, and he’s alive and active again in England.” Harry shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don’t even know if Voldemort did anything in France, but he sure as hell did a lot here.”

   “There were a few things he did,” Fleur admitted, “none that could be traced back to this ‘You-Know-Who’, of course, but there were rumors…”

   “Voldemort wants me dead,” Harry said quickly, “but the Ministry refuses to even acknowledge that he’s back. Dumbledore’s been trying to do something about it, but it’s been ineffectual. It doesn’t help that Fudge is getting paranoid, thinking that Dumbledore’s going to seize control of the Ministry.”

   Fleur scoffed. “That’s ludicrous.”

   “Who said Fudge was the pinnacle of intellect here?” Harry shot back. “Now look, Voldemort’s already active, and the more time he has the more dangerous he’ll become. According to Dumbledore, I’m supposed to be the one to kill him, but… well, he and I have had a… parting of the ways, I think would be the best way to describe it. The point is that I’m trying to build a network – a friend of mine calls it an ‘information chain’ in which I can get the information I need to plan against Voldemort.”

   “And you want me in that chain?” Fleur asked, her eyebrows shooting up with astonishment. “Why me?”

   “Because you didn’t turn me in at Gringotts, and that makes you a hell of a lot more trustworthy than a lot of people,” Harry replied evenly, placing both palms flat on the table. “I’m not asking you to compromise your job or your safety, but I need information – anything – that could help me with Voldemort. I don’t know what he’s planning, I don’t know where he’s going… he’s well-trained at operating in secret, and I need all the help I can get tracing the clues.”

   “What do you even want me to do?” Fleur asked, her sudden business-like tone filled with interest. Harry breathed a little easier. She’s going for it. – I’m making progress here…

   “Just keep an eye out for anything unusual in the paperwork or in the gossip,” Harry said tensely. “Unmarked packages or letters, rumors, whispered conversations that seem out of the ordinary, particularly any of the members of these families.” Pulling out a small scrap of paper, he tossed it to Fleur, who quickly tucked it into her cloak with surprising efficiency.

   “Is that all you want?” Fleur asked, cocking an eyebrow. “It does not sound difficult –”

   “If you can, I want you to inform me of anything strange that the Ministry’s doing in your Department,” Harry said in a low voice.

   Fleur gave him an incredulous look. “You honestly think that You-Know-Who would bother with finance when he can coerce and blackmail others?”

   “It’s not him I’m worried about,” Harry muttered, his hand slowly going to his wand, his eyes moving to the doorway of the parlor. “We should get going – is there a back exit in here?”

   “How should I –”

   “Never mind, there it is,” Harry replied, getting to his feet and shielding Fleur from view. “We need to go – now. I think you’ve got a follower.”

   Fleur’s wand was out in a flash, a steely expression on her face. “Not for long, I do not –”

   “Not in the shop, let’s go!”

   Harry kept an eye on the man approaching the counter for ice cream as he carefully walked with Fleur towards the small door at the back of the shop. He had seen the man before – speaking with Kemester outside of Grimmauld Place. This can’t be a coincidence… but how did they find me? If they got Tonks… no, don’t think about that…

   Fleur was through the door first, and before the heavy-set man could receive his change from Fortescue with his ice cream, Harry had followed her.

   They were both breathing fast as they came around to the front of the store, stowed their wands, and began walking down the alley, which seemed even more crowded than normal.

   “Do you have a plan?” Fleur asked, not making eye contact with Harry – they both knew it would be too obvious.

   “Twillfit & Taddings, to pick up one of my friends, provided she got there as planned,” Harry replied. “It’s just past Ollivanders on the right...”

   “You know you’ll have to double back if you want to use the Leaky Cauldron to leave,” Fleur said calmly. She knew that nobody would be paying attention to their conversation, and in the heavy crowd, it didn’t seem like anybody had taken much notice of Harry either. Not yet…

   “I’ll see if we can Side-Along Apparate out of here,” Harry replied, trying to keep his voice steady as he scanned the shop windows. “Shouldn’t be hard I’ve done it before –”

   He frowned as he saw the door of Ollivander’s, and the sign on it. That’s strange… why would the shop be closed during business hours…?

   He looked inside the storefront window and his eyes went wide. There’s someone there… he’s lighting something… it’s –

   Grabbing Fleur, he dove for the ground, as Ollivander’s exploded behind him.