𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧

ACT TWO, CHAPTER FOUR
kreacher's change of heart.

KREACHER DID NOT return that morning, that afternoon, that night, or even that following day. Venus could tell that Harry was getting increasingly anxious, so she hung around him from a distance, allowing him to have his space but also keeping a concerned eye on him.

However, there was also the appearance of two cloaked men in the square outside number twelve. They remained there into the night, gazing in the direction of the house that they definitely couldn't see.

"Death Eaters, for sure," Ron stated as he, Venus, Harry, and Hermione watched from the drawing room windows. "Reckon they know we're in here?"

"I don't think so, or they'd have sent Snape in after us, wouldn't they?" Hermione replied, looking frightened.

"D'you reckon he's been in here and had his tongue tied by Moody's curse?"

"Yes, otherwise he'd have been able to tell that lot how to get in, wouldn't he? But they're probably watching to see whether we turn up. They know that Harry owns the house, after all."

"How do they—?" Harry began, his shoulder brushing against Venus'.

"Wizarding wills are examined by the Ministry, remember?" Hermione continued. "They'll know Sirius left you the place."

The presence of the Death Eaters outside increased the gloomy mood inside number twelve. None of them had heard anything from anyone beyond Grimmauld Place since Mr. Weasley sent his Patronus, and the strain was starting to show. Ron had become especially restless and irritable, since after all, he had left his entire family. He started to develop an annoying habit of playing with the Deluminator in his pocket. This particularly infuriated Hermione, who was studying The Tales of Beedle the Bard while Kreacher was gone and did not appreciate the way the lights kept flashing on and off.

"Will you stop it!" Hermione shouted on the third evening of Kreacher's absence when the drawing room succumbed into darkness again.

"Sorry, sorry!" Ron responded, clicking the Deluminator and restoring the lights.I don't know I'm doing it!"

"Well, can't you find something useful to occupy yourself?"

"What, like reading kids' stories?"

"Dumbledore left me this book, Ron—"

"—and he left me the Deluminator, maybe I'm supposed to use it!"

Venus felt Harry stand up from his place on the couch next to her. She looked up, only to see him standing over her with his hand outstretched. Venus took his hand and stood up, allowing him to lead them out of the drawing room and away from the bickering of Ron and Hermione. They started to go down the staircase towards the kitchen.

However, halfway down the flight of stairs into the hall, the couple heard a tap on the front door, followed by metallic clicks and the grinding of the chain. Venus and Harry shared a panicked look before Harry pulled the two of them into the shadows behind the decapitated Elf heads. She pulled out her wand from the waistband of her jeans and held it tightly, pressing herself closer into Harry's back.

The door opened. Venus was able to see a glimpse of the lamplit square outside. A cloaked figure edged into the hall and closed the door behind them. The intruder took a step forward. Moody's voice asked Severus Snape? hen the dust figure rose from the end of the hall and rushed them, raising its dead hand.

"I was not I who killed you, Albus," a quiet voice revealed.

The jinx instantly broke. Once again, the dust-figure exploded. It was impossible to make out the newcomer through the dense gray cloud it left behind.

Harry pointed his wand into the middle of the cloud. "Don't move!"

He had forgotten about the portrait of Mrs. Black. At the sound of his yell, the curtains that hid her flew open.

"Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house—" she screamed.

Ron and Hermione came crashing down the stairs behind Harry and Venus. Their wands were raised like theirs at the unknown man now standing with his arms raised in the hall below.

"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!" the man revealed.

"Oh, thank goodness," Hermione said weakly.

She pointed her wand at Mrs. Black instead. With a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. Ron lowered his wand. Venus slowly lowered hers, but Harry didn't.

"Show yourself!" Harry demanded.

Remus Lupin moved forwards into the lamplights, hands still held high in a gesture of surrender. "I am Remus John Lupin, Werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

Harry lowered his wand. "Oh, all right, but I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Hermione, Venus, you shouldn't be quite so quick to lower your defenses."

They all ran down the stairs towards him. Lupin was wrapped in a thick black traveling cloak. He looked exhausted, but pleased to see them nevertheless.

"No sign of Severus, then?" Lupin asked.

"No," Harry answered. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, but we're all being watched. There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside—"

"We know—"

"I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me," Lupin finished. "They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with you, Harry. Let's go downstairs, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow."

They descended down into the kitchen. Hermione pointed her wand at the grate, and a fire sprang up instantly. It gave the illusion of coziness against the stark stone walls and glistened off the long wooden table. Lupin pulled a few butterbeers from beneath his traveling cloak and they sat down.

"I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," Lupin told them. "So, you came straight hereafter the wedding?"

"No, only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road," Harry responded.

Lupin spilled most of his butterbeer. "What?" They explained what had happened, and when they finished, Lupin looked aghast. "But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!"

"And it doesn't seem likely they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?" Harry agreed.

"We wondered whether Harry could still have the Trace on him?" Hermione questioned.

"Impossible," Lupin replied, and Venus let out a breath of relief. "Apart from anything else, they'd know for sure Harry was here if he still had the Trace on him, wouldn't they? But I can't see how they could have tracked you to Tottenham Court Road, that's worrying, really worrying."

"Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family were safe," Harry pleaded.

"Well, Kingsley saved us. Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived."

"Were they all Death Eaters, or were some of them workers at the Ministry?" Venus inquired.

"A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now," Lupin said. "There were about a dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away."

Harry's eyes went to Venus first. She shrugged, but there was mild shock on her face. Scrimgeour wasn't exactly the most likeable person, but if what Lupin said was true, he had tried to protect Harry as his final act.

"The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom. They found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close — and then they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there. At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths, but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks' family. Again, trying to find out where you went after you visited them. They're all right — shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."

"Penelope?" Ron immediately cut in. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Lupin responded, making Ron sigh in relief. "I don't think any Death Eaters wanted to touch her since she's Bellatrix's daughter."

"The Death Eaters got through all those protective charms?" Harry asked.

"What you've got to realize, Harry, is that the Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now," Lupin explained. "They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."

"And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?" Hermione questioned.

"Well." Lupin hesitated for a moment before pulling out a folded copy of the Daily Prophet. He pushed it across the table to Harry. "Here, you'll know sooner or later anyway. That's their pretext for going after you."

Harry smoothed out the paper. Venus peered over his shoulder. There was a huge photograph of Harry that filled the front page. Above it was a large headline.

WANED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT
THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

Venus frowned while Ron and Hermione gave roars of outrage. Harry merely pushed the newspaper away,

"I'm sorry, Harry," Lupin stated.

"So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too?" Hermione inquired furiously. Lupin nodded. "But surely people realize what's going on?"

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent. The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" Ron asked.

Lupin laughed. "He doesn't need to, Ron. Effectively he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry. Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear."

"And this dramatic change in Ministry policy involves warning the Wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?" Harry inerjected.

"That's certainly part of it, and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you — the Boy Who Lived — were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hero's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you. Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggleborns." Lupin pointed at the Daily Prophet. "Look at page two."

Hermione turned the pages with distaste. "Muggle-born Register. The Ministry of Magicis undertaking a survey of so-called Muggle-borns, the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets. Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force. The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission."

"Charlie," Venus breathed out, her heart aching for Charlotte. "She's a No-Maj — sorry, Muggle-born. Oh God."

"People won't let this happen," Ron insisted.

"It is happening, Ron," Lupin countered. "Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak."

"But how are they supposed to have stolen magic? It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"I know. Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

Ron glanced at Hermione. "What if Purebloods and Half-Bloods swear a Muggle-born's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin—"

"Thank you, Ron, but I couldn't let you—" Hermione began.

"You won't have a choice. I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it."

Hermione let out a shaky laugh. "Ron, as we're on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different. What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?"

"Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard," Lupin answered. "That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole Wizarding population under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status — meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of Wizard descent — before they are allowed to attend."

Venus sighed. "I hope Charlie will be okay."

"It's . . . it's . . ." Harry muttered angrily.

"I know," Lupin voiced. "I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order isunder the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did, and Venus, Ron, Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"

Harry stared at Lupin. "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

Lupin looked disappointed. "I thought you'd say that. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

Harry hesitated for a moment. However, Venus was just confused. What about his wife?"

"Uh, Lupin," Venus began. "You're offering to come with us, but . . . what about Tonks?"

"What about her?" Lupin responded.

Venus frowned. "Aren't you married? If I was married, I honestly wouldn't want my husband going away like that."

"Tonks will be perfectly safe. She'll be at her parents' house."

There was something strange in Lupin's tone. It sounded sort of . . . cold. Also, it seemed strange that Tonks would be remained hidden at her parents' house. She was a member of the Order. And based on her personality, she would want to be in the thick of the action.

"Remus, is everything all right . . . you know . . . between you and—" Hermione said tentatively.

"Everything is fine, thank you," Lupin stated firmly.

Hermione turned pink. There was another pause that was awkward and embarrassing.

"Tonks is going to have a baby."

Venus blinked. "Oh my God."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Hermione squealed.

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed.

"Congratulations," Harry added.

Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace. "So . . . do you accept my offer? Will four become five? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

Venus, Ron, and Hermione looked at Harry.

"Just — just to be clear," Harry voiced. "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," Lupin insisted. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."

"Well, I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Lupin's face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop ten degrees. Venus averted her gaze to the floor and tried her best not to smile. Well, he certainly wasn't wrong.

"You don't understand," Lupin protested.

"Explain, then," Harry urged.

Lupin swallowed. "I — I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since."

"I see, so you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"

Lupin instantly sprang to his feet. His chair toppled over backward. He glared at them all so fiercely so that Venus saw the shadow of the Wolf upon his human face.

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child?" Lupin shouted. "I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!" Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. "You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a Werewolf? And the child — the child—"

Lupin took his hair in his fists. Venus watched him in concern. He looked quite deranged.

"My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it — how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"Remus!" Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes. "Don't say that — how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione," Harry cut in, standing up in rage. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him."

Venus' eyes widened. "Harry—"

"If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad, what will they do to a half-Werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

"How — how dare you?" Lupin stammered. "This is not about a desire for — for danger or personal glory — how dare you suggest such a—"

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil," Harry continued. "You fancy stepping into Sirius' shoes—"

"Harry," Venus warned.

He glared into Lupin's livid face. "I'd never have believed this. The man who taught me to fight Dementors — a coward."

Lupin drew his wand so fast so that Venus barely had any time to blink. There was a loud bang, and Harry was sent flying backwards. He slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor. Venus gasped and ran over to him, sinking down to her knees beside him. She looked up for a moment only to see the tail of Lupin's cloak disappearing around the door.

"Remus, Remus, come back!" Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond, and a moment later they heard the front door slam.

Venus placed her hands on either side of Harry's face and saw a lump starting to swell where his head hit the wall. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "I'm good, Star."

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "How could you?"

"It was easy." He stood up, and Venus dropped her hands. However, he reached down and took one of her hands, interlocking their fingers together. He was shaking in anger and was gripping Venus' hand rather tightly. Harry glared at Hermione. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Harry, love, let's take a moment," Venus told him softly as Ron opened his mouth. "Fighting with each other won't do it any good."

"You shouldn't have said that stuff to Lupin," Ron said.

"He had it coming to him," Harry voiced. "Parents shouldn't leave their kids unless — unless they've got to."

"Harry—" Hermione started to say, stretching out a consoling hand.

Harry shrugged it off and walked away, ultimately dragging Venus along with him. When they stopped in front of the fire, Venus looked up at Harry worryingly. He didn't look at her but only leaned his cheek against the top of her head. Venus let go of his hand and reached up, wrapping his arms around him comfortingly.

"It's okay," Venus whispered.

Harry picked his head up and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before facing Ron and Hermione, making Venus drop her arms. "I know I shouldn't have called him a coward."

"No, you shouldn't," Ron agreed.

"But he's acting like one."

"All the same . . ." Hermione trailed off.

"I know," Harry voiced. "But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, won't it?"

Venus heard the plea in his voice. She reached up and started to run his hand up and down his back softly. Venus felt Harry take her hand again, and he led them over to the table. They sat down next to each other and Harry instantly opened the Daily Prophet that was still lying on the table. Harry loudly turned the page. There was the picture of a family, and beneath it, it read The Dumbledore family, left to right: Albus; Percival, holding newborn Ariana; Kendra; and Aberforth.

She looked at the picture. Dumbledore's father, Percival, was a good-looking man with eyes that seemed to twinkle even in the old faded photograph. Ariana, still a baby, was quite small. Kendra, the mother, had jet-black hair pulled into a high bun and her face had a carved quality about it. Albus and Aberforth wore matching lacy collared jackets had had identical, shoulder-length hairstyles. Albus looked several years older, but other than that, the two boys looked very alike. The family looked quite happy and normal as they smiled serenely up out of the newspaper. Venus looked at the headline and the article.

EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT FROM THE UPCOMING BIOGRAPHY OF ALBUS
DUMBLEDORE
by Rita Skeeter

     Proud and haughty, Kendra Dumbledore
     could not bear to remain in Mould-on-the-
     Wold after her husband Percival's well-
     publicized arrest and imprisonment in
     Azkaban. She therefore decided to uproot
     the family and relocate to Godric's Hollow,
     the village that was later to gain fame as
     the scene of Harry Potter's strange escape
     from You-Know-Who.
          Like Mould-on-the-Wold, Godric's
     Hollow was home to a number of
     Wizarding families, but as Kendra knew
     none of them, she would be spared the
     curiosity about her husband's crime she
     had faced in her former village. By
     repeatedly rebuffing the friendly advances
     of her new Wizarding neighbors, she soon
     ensured that her family was left well alone.
          "Slammed the door in my face when I
     went around to welcome her with a batch
     of homemade Cauldron Cakes," says
     Bathilda Bagshot. "The first year they
     were there I only ever saw the two boys.
     Wouldn't have known there was a
     daughter if I hadn't been picking
     Plangentines by moonlight the winter
     after they moved in, and saw Kendra
     leading Ariana out into the back garden.
     Walked her round the lawn once, keeping
     a firm grip on her, then took her back
     inside. Didn't know what to make of it."
          It seems that Kendra thought the move
     to Godric's Hollow was the perfect
     opportunity to hide Ariana once and for
     all, something she had probably been
     planning for years. The timing was
     significant. Ariana was barely seven
     years old when she vanished from sight,
     and seven is the age by which most experts
     agree that magic will have revealed itself,
     if present. Nobody now alive remembers
     Ariana ever demonstrating even the
     slightest sign of magicalability. It seems
     clear, therefore, that Kendra made a
     decision to hide her daughter's existence
     rather than suffer the shame of admitting
     that she had produced a Squib. Moving
     away from the friends and neighbors who
     knew Ariana would, of course, make
     imprisoning her all the easier. The tiny
     number of people who henceforth knew of
     Ariana's existence could be counted upon
     to keep the secret, including her two
     brothers, who deflected awkward questions
     with the answer their mother had taught
     them: "My sister is too frail for school."
          Next week: Albus Dumbledore at
     Hogwarts — the Prizes and the Pretense.

Venus had only finished reading when a deafening crack echoed around the kitchen. Her head snapped up and she instantly shot to her feet. There was a mass of struggling limbs.

Kreacher disentangled himself and bowed low to Harry. "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

Mundungus scrambled up and pulled out his wand.

Hermione was faster. "Expelliarmus!"

Mundungus' wand soared into the air and Hermone caught it. Wild-eyed, Mundungus dived for the stairs. Ron tackled him like they would in a game of football (American football) and Mundungus hit the stone floor with a muffled crunch.

"What?" Mundungus bellowed, writhing in attempt to free himself. "Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'ouse-Elf onme, what are you playing at, wha've I done, lemme go, lemme go, or—"

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," Harry argued.

He threw aside the newspaper and walked over to Mundungus, dropping to his knees beside Mundungus. Mundungus stopped struggling and looked terrified. Ron stood up while panting. Venus crossed her arms and watched as Harry pointed his wand at Mundungus' nose.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Master," the Elf croaked. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end."

"You've done really well, Kreacher," Harry responded, and the Elf bowed low. "Right, we've got a few questions for you."

"I panicked, okay?" Mundungus shouted at once. "I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate, but I never volunteered to die for you, an' that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone woulda got outta there, I said all along I didn't wanna do it—"

"For your information, none of the rest of us Disapparated," Hermione said.

"Well, you're a bunch of bleedin' 'eroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing meself—"

"We're not interested in why you ran out on Mad-Eye," Harry revealed, moving his wand a little closer to Mundungus' eyes. "We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum."

"Well then, why the 'ell am I being 'unted down by 'ouse-Elves?" Mundungus inquired. "Or is this about them goblets again? I ain't got none of 'em left, or you could 'ave 'em—"

"It's not about the goblets either, although you're getting warmer. Shut up and listen. When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable—"

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk—"

There was the sound of pattering feet. Venus looked up, only to see Kreacher carrying a copper saucepan towards Mundungus. Her eyes widened when she saw Kreacher hit Mundungus over the head with the saucepan, making him shriek in agony.

"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" Mundungus screamed, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottom pan again.

"Kreacher, no!" Harry ordered.

The Elf still held the pain in the air. "Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"

Venus couldn't help the small smile on her face.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honors," Harry instructed.

"Thank you very much, Master," Kreacher responded with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find, you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket there. What did you do with it?"

"Why?" Mundungus questioned. "Is it valuable?"

"You've still got it!" Hermione cried.

"No, he hasn't," Ron counered. "He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it."

"More?" Mundungus repeated. "That wouldn't have been effing difficult . . . bleedin' gave it away, di'n' I? No choice."

"What do you mean?"

"I was selling in Diagon Alley and she come up to me and asks if I've got a license for trading in magical artifacts. Bleedin' snoop. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it and let me off that time, and to fink meself lucky."

"Who was this woman?" Harry demanded

"I dunno, some Ministry hag," Mundungus answered. He thought about it for a moment. "Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head. Looked like a toad."

Venus felt like she just got punched in the stomach.

Harry dropped his wand. It hit Mundungus on he nose and shot red sparks into his eyebrows, which ignited.

"Aguamenti!" Hermione recited.

A jet of water streamed from her wand and engulfed a spluttering and choking Mundungus. Harry looked up at Venus, who curled her left hand into a fist. The scars on the back of it that read blood traitor seemed to tingle again.

╞════════  ༺ ༻  ════════╡

AUGUST WORE ON, and the square of unkempt grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place shriveled in the sun until it was brittle and brown. The inhabitants of number twelve were never seen by anyone in the surrounding houses, and the No-Maj's (sorry, Muggles, Venus still hadn't let go of her American terminology) that lived in Grimmauld Place had long accepted the amusing mistake in the numbering that had caused number eleven to sit beside number thirteen.

Yet the square was now attracting a trickle of visitors who seemed to find the anomaly very intriguing. Not a day went by that there wasn't one or two people arriving in Grimmauld Place with no other purpose than to just lean against the railings facing numbers eleven and thirteen, watching the join between the two houses. The lurkers were never the same, but they all seemed to share a dislike for normal clothing. Most of the Londoners who passed them were used to eccentric dressers and took little notice, though occasionally one of them glanced back wondering why anyone would wear such long cloaks in the heat. The watchers were never satisfied, apparently. Occasionally one of them started forwards excitedly like they had seen something interesting, only to fall back looking disappointed.

On the first day of September there were more people lurking in the square than ever before. Half a dozen men in long cloaks stood silent and watchful, gazing as at ever at houses eleven and thirteen. What they were waiting for seemed to not come. As evening drew in, bringing an unexpected gust of chilly rain for the first time in weeks, there occurred one of those inexplicable moments when they appeared to have seen something interesting. The man with the twisted face pointed and his closest companion started forwards, but a moment later they relaxed into their previous state of inactivity, looking frustrated and disappointed.

Venus sat in the kitchen downstairs with Ron and Hermione, scouring over scribbled notes and hand-drawn maps. The kitchen looked almost unrecognizable. Every surface shone — copper pots and pans had a rosy glow, the wooden tabletop gleamed, the goblets and plates already laid for dinner glinted in the light from a blazing fire where a cauldron was simmering. Kreacher had also replaced his dirty cloth for a new snowy-white towel and wore the fake Horcrux around his neck. Ever since hey had the conversation about Regulus, Kreacher had been incredibly pleasant.

"I've got news, and you won't like it," a familiar voice called.

Venus immediately perked up. Harry was home — he had been out for a while underneath the Invisibility Cloak. She picked up her head to see her boyfriend entering the kitchen, the silvery fabric of the Cloak draped over his arm.

Kreacher went hurrying towards Harry. "Shoes off, if you please, Master Harry, and hands washed before dinner."

The Elf seized the Invisiblity Cloak and went to hang it on a hook on the wall, beside a number of old-fashioned robes that had been freshly laundered. Harry instantly walked over to Venus at the table as her head tilted back to look up at him. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, like always.

"What's happened?" Ron inquired.

Harry threw down a newspaper on top of the scattered parchment on the table. There was a large picture of a familiar, hook-nosed, black-haired man. Venus' eyes trailed up to the headline.

SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER

"No!" Venus, Ron, and Hermione chorused.

Hermione quickly snatched up the newspaper and started to read the story out loud. "Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School ofWitchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. 'I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values—' Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study — Merlin's pants!" Hermione leaped up from the table and left the room. "I'll be back in a minute!"

"Merlin's pants?" Ron repeated, looking amused, pulling the newspaper towards him. "She must be upset."

Venus shook her head. "If Snape thinks the other teachers are going to accept him as headmaster, he's dead wrong. McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn . . . they all know the truth about how Dumbledore died. And who are the Carrows?"

"Death Eaters," Harry responded. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And—" Harry sat besides Venus "—I can't see that the other teachers have got any choicebut to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban — and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students."

Kreacher then approached the table with a large tureen in his hands. He started to ladle soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth. Venus felt her mind spin as she watched him. She remembered how unwelcoming Kreacher had been. It was a shock to see him suddenly change.

"Thanks, Kreacher." Harry flipped over the Prophet so they wouldn't have to look at Snape's face. "Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is now." Harry started to eat his French onion soup. "There are still a load of Death Eaters watching the house, more than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."

Ron glanced down at his watch. "I've been thinking about that all day. It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn't it?"

Venus sighed, stirring her soup around with her spoon. Sure, she she had only gone to Hogwarts for two years, but it was weird not being at school. The scarlet steam engine was probably packed. She was sure Charlotte and Elijah were sitting with Ginny, Neville, and Luna. It made her heart sink.

"They nearly saw me coming back in just now," Harry revealed. "I landed badly on the top step, and the Cloak slipped."

Venus gave him a look. "You have to be careful."

"I do that every time," Ron agreed. "Oh, here she is." Ron looked at Hermione as she re-entered the kitchen. "And what inthe name of Merlin's most baggy Y Fronts was that about?"

"I remembered this," Hermione responded.

She was carrying a large, framed picture. Hermione lowered it to the floor and seized her small, beaded bag from the kitchen sideboard. She opened it and proceeded to force the painting inside. Despite the fact that it was too large to fit inside the tiny bag, within a few seconds it had vanished like everything else into the depths of the bag.

"Phineas Nigellus," Hermione explained, throwing her bag on the table with the usual clanking noise.

Ron blinked. "Sorry?"

Hermione sat down. "Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him. But let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."

"Good thinking!"

"Thank you." Hermione smiled and pulled her soup towards her. "So, Harry, what else happened today?"

"Nothing," Harry responded as Venus started to eat her soup. "Watched the Ministry entrance for seven hours. No sign of her. Saw your dad, though, Ron. He looks fine."

Ron nodded in appreciation. They had all agreed that it was too dangerous to try and communicate with Mr. Weasley while he walked in and out of the Ministry because he was always surrounded by other Ministry workers. It was, however, reassuring to catch glimpses of him, even if he did look strained and anxious.

"Dad always told us most Ministry people use the Floo Network to get to work," Ron voiced. "That's why we haven't seen Umbridge, she'd never walk, she'd think she's too important."

"And what about that funny old witch and that little wizard inthe navy robes?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah, the bloke from Magical Maintenance."

"How do you know he works for Magical Maintenance?"

"Dad said everyone from Magical Maintenance wears navy blue robes," Ron said.

"But you never told us that!" Hermione shrieked, dropping her spoon and pulling the notes and maps towards her, flipping feverishly through the pages. "There's nothing in here about navy blue robes, nothing!"

"Well, does it really matter?"

"Ron, it all matters! If we're going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they're bound to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We've been over and over this, I mean, what's the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren't even bothering to tell us—"

"Blimey, Hermione, I forget one little thing—"

"You do realize, don't you, that there's probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of—"

"I think we should do it tomorrow," Harry interrupted.

Venus' eyes widened and she looked at Harry. "Tomorrow? Like, September second, tomorrow?"

"You aren't serious, Harry?" Hermione added.

"I am," Harry confirmed. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

"Unless she's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed," Ron suggested.

Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place. I mean, the amount of bleeding Star had, Umbridge almost made her pass out. I had to catch her on the stairs."

Venus remembered that. She could still feel the blood running down her hand and how she dizzy she was. Harry had wanted to get back to the common room as soon as possible, but Venus was so lightheaded she barely made it.

Harry noticed Hermione deep in thought. "We know everything important. We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate—"

"I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me," Hermione recited immediately.

"Exactly. And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend—"

"But we haven't got any!"

"If the plan works, we will have," Harry continued calmly.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know . . ." Hermione trailed off. "There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance . . ."

"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing. It's time to act."

Venus swallowed her fear. For the previous for weeks, they had all taken turns to wear the Invisibility Cloak and spy on the official entrance to the Ministry, which Ron, thanks to Mr. Weasley, had known since childhood. They tailed Ministry workers on their way in, eavesdropped on their conversations, and learned by careful observation which of them could be relied upon to appear, alone, at the same time every day. Occasionally there had been a chance to sneak a Daily Prophet out of somebody's briefcase. Slowly they had built up the sketchy maps and notes that were now stacked in front of Hermione.

"All right, let's say we go for it tomorrow . . . I think it should just be me, Venus, and Harry," Ron announced.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, don't start that again! I thought we'd settled this."

"It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different, Hermione." Ron pointed at a copy of the Daily Prophet from ten days ago. "You're on the list of Muggle-borns who didn't present themselves for interrogation!"

"Ron, Hermione can handle herself," Venus insisted. "You've seen her in action. And I'm apparently supposed to be back in America."

"And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow!" Hermione added. "If anyone shouldn't go, it's Harry, he's got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head—"

"Fine, I'll stay here," Harry said. "Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won't you?"

Venus laughed, along with Ron and Hermione. However, her face morphed into concern when she noticed Harry's hand fly to the scar on his forehead. She stared at him, but Harry tried to pass it off by brushing his hair out of his eyes. Venus knew better.

"Well, if all four of us go we'll have to Disapparate separately," Ron was stated. "We can't all fit under the Cloak anymore."

Harry stood up. Venus kept her gaze on his face, her worry growing.

Kreacher hurried forwards. "Master has not finished his soup, would Master prefer the savory stew, or else the treacle tart to which Master is so partial?"

"Thanks, Kreacher, but I'll be back in a minute — er — bathroom," Harry stammered.

Harry immediately left the room and went up the stairs. Venus watched after him, her concern only growing. It was only about a minute later when she heard screaming coming from upstairs. She instantly shot up from her chair and pulled her wand out of the waistband of her shorts. Venus ran up the stairs, Ron and Hermione trailing behind her. The screaming was coming from the bathroom.

Venus started to knock on the door loudly. "Harry, love! Open the door!"

She heard scrambling inside. The door unlocked, and Venus entered. She looked around suspiciously, her wand pointing into corners of the chilly bathroom. There was nobody in there except Harry.

"What were you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"What d'you think I was doing?" Harry replied innocently.

"You were yelling your head off!" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh yeah . . . I must've dozed off or—"

"We're not stupid," Venus told him softly. "All of us know your scar started hurting downstairs. And you're really pale."

Harry sat down on the edge of the bath, Venus perching herself next to him. "Fine. I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just there . . ."

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried, her voice echoing throughout the bathroom. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous — Voldemort can use it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

"Because it means I know what he's doing."

"So you're not even going to try to shut him out?"

"Hermione, I can't," Harry protested. "You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

"You never really tried!" Hermione insisted. "I don't get it, Harry — do you like having this special connection or relationship or what — whatever—"

"Hermione," Venus cut in, a scolding tone to her voice.

Harry stood up, giving Hermione a look that made her falter. "Like it? Would you like it?"

"I — no — I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean—" Hermione stuttered.

"I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."

"Dumbledore—"

"Forget Dumbledore," Harry said. "This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."

"Who?" Hermione questioned.

"He's a foreign wandmaker. He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant."

"But according to you," said Ron, "Voldemort's got Ollivanderlocked up somewhere," Ron responded. "If he's already got a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?"

"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better . . . or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know," Harry suggested,

"Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did, but you made it happen!" Hermione replied. "Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"

"Because I know it wasn't me!" Harry shouted. "And so does Voldemort, Hermione! We both know what really happened!"

Venus glanced in between Harry and Hermione. They were both glaring at each other. Her and Ron shared a quick glance.

"It's Harry's choice, Hermione," Venus voiced. "Why don't we drop this and go over the plan since we're going to the Ministry tomorrow?"

Reluctantly, Hermione let the matter go. Although Venus knew she would attack again at the first opportunity. In the meantime, they returned the basement again at the first opportunity. In the meantime, they returned to the basement kitchen, where Kreacher served them all stew and treacle tart, and where they spent hours going over and over their plan until they could recite it.

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I remember reading that umbridge came back in deathly hallows for the first time and boy oh boy let me tell you I was SHOOK