Chapter 3: The Press Conference

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all characters mentioned here. No infringement intended.

A/N: This will feel a bit re-cappish, but there are thoughts woven into it and additional conversation at the end. Sorry for the delay, if anyone is actually reading this. The flu hit my household, not to mention holiday craziness. Thanks to David305 for an effective review to fix up my premature submission. I was feeling guilty for the long wait.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger stepped into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic from the transporting floo network fireplaces. Harry took a moment to assess his surroundings. The changes made under Voldemort's regime were already being replaced with earlier monuments. The sickening tribute "Magic is Might" with wizards trampling Muggles was gone, thankfully. Kingsley worked fast, he thought impressed. He had never been to the Ministry under positive circumstances. He thought of his trial, the disastrous rescue attempt of Sirius which resulted in his death. He was walking into the very area where Dumbledore and Voldemort had dueled. He had never seen magic at that level before. It had frightened him. The Battle for Hogwarts on Sunday had surpassed it though with so many witches and wizards taking part. Curses flew everywhere and most of the time no one knew which way one came from. The memory sent shivers down his spine. How they had survived, he knew not, except that the hunt for the diadem Horcrux had taken priority over cursing anyone.

Kingsley Shacklebolt accompanied them and went directly to the podium. "Good day to you all. In a moment Mr. Harry Potter will speak. He will not be taking any more questions than those already submitted for consideration that I passed on to him on Monday evening on your behalf."

Harry looked at his feet, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. He had decided not to read the questions and just tell his story as best he could. He would discuss some of things that had happened during the past year and explain as much as possible how Voldemort was no longer a threat to the Wizarding World, and he would never personally be so again.

"Everyone has been through a lot this past week, Mr. Potter in particular," Kingsley continued. "I remind you to think of the person, not the story for a moment and act accordingly. Now without further ado," he glanced at Harry in silent invitation, "Mr. Harry Potter, the floor is yours."

Harry cleared his throat as he moved toward the podium. He took out his papers and quickly looked for Ginny. She was standing with the rest of her family at the back of the atrium, towards the fireplace hallway. Ron and Hermione were slightly behind Harry and to his right. Ginny gave him an encouraging smile and he began. His notes were with him, but he rarely looked at them except to steady himself whenever he spoke of the lost people that he loved. Hermione had made large bolded letters to guide him for whenever he might lose his place, and highlighted subtopics for each section.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to our third day of freedom. Welcome home to all those who are coming back, and rejoining their families who have been so worried and ripped apart by your absence. Welcome back to taking for granted that the sun will rise in the east and set in the west and that you will be free to see it if you choose. Welcome back to being able to go about life and speak your mind without fear. Welcome back to just being who we are and there being nothing wrong with whose blood runs through our veins, or the family name we carry."

"In the early moments of daylight on May 2, 1998, a period of terrible darkness in our world came to an end. I, along with many of you here, and many others who are no longer with us, fought to resurrect daylight and freedom. The process, and I do realize now as I look back that this was a process that began long ago. The final denouement occurred that spring morning, but the steps taken to get there began for me, the moment I received a scar from Lord Voldemort as he tried to kill me when I was a child, trying to stop almost seventeen years ago what happened at Hogwarts this week. To understand all that happened, I have to explain everything that has happened since Voldemort's first death, October 31st, 1981.

"From that moment on, I came under the protection of Albus Dumbledore and, my mother." He paused to see the registration of his mother's actions on the faces of those assembled. "So many of you and I myself wondered how I could have survived the Killing Curse used against me by Lord Voldemort when I was a baby. The Professor explained to me that her sacrifice is what allowed me to live. My mother, Lily Evans Potter, a Muggle-born, paid the ultimate price to save me. The vehicle she did it through was love. It is love that Voldemort never experienced or understood. It was the power of love, and selflessness that he overlooked so often and did not bother to put any credibility into that was Voldemort's undoing."

Harry noticed the uneasiness in the room. "You all continue to cringe at his name. There is no need. There is no possible way for him to come back from the dead this time. We made sure of it, Dumbledore and many others working in secrecy made sure of it."

"Albus Dumbledore protected me. He understood the magic that came into play when my mother saved me. He had me raised in the Muggle world where my mother's spell would be active to keep me safe as a child completely unaware of the role fate had dealt me. I was raised apart from this world. I knew absolutely nothing of real magic until a certain groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, was given the task of tracking me down, informing me that I was a wizard and offering me the invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That, as I'm sure you can imagine, explained a lot of things that were happening around me when I was a child. It was the most memorable moment of my childhood. At that point I had no idea what was in store for me. But, the headmaster certainly did. He knew that I had to come to Hogwarts and be trained because the protective spell from my mother's sacrifice would leave me when I turned seventeen. If I did not come to Hogwarts and get trained, I would be quite vulnerable to a man obsessed with killing the one person whom he believed had not succumbed to him."

"I came to Hogwarts on the express, just like all other students. I had the happy fortune of meeting my best friend that very first day, Ron Weasley. This is a man who has been by my side for all these years and whose cheerfulness, sense of moral decency, and loyalty and friendship have been my rock in the worst of times. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I would not be here today if it weren't for Ron Weasley who has indeed saved my life, and played a great role in the demise of Voldemort. A most heartfelt thanks, mate," he said as he glanced in Ron's direction.

Molly Weasley froze as she took in Harry's description of her son, a man. She looked over at Ron, her youngest son, and was awed once again how much he had changed during the past year. It took her a moment to come back to listening to Harry's speech which then described the young woman who stood beside Ron. She was becoming more beautiful with each passing year, she thought, and not just her looks.

"On that train I also met a young girl, Hermione Granger. My other best friend, whom I have watched not just become brilliant, but become the most caring, resolute and fair-minded person I have ever met. Again, if it were not for having formed this incredible and very dear and respectful friendship, I would not be standing before you here today. Countless times, her ingenuity and preparedness saved not only the day, but all our lives. Hermione Granger stuck by me, defended me when others would walk away. Her compassion knows no bounds. I couldn't ask for a better sister if I had one. Let there be no misunderstanding: these two people are responsible for my being alive, for keeping my spirits up when all seemed too hard to carry through with." Harry paused for a moment to make eye contact with his best friends and then to compose himself so he could continue on.

The cameras turned on the pair and began to flash. Ron leaned in to Hermione and whispered in her ear, "You didn't write that with him, did you?"

Hermione was tearing up, "No, he put that in himself." She smiled back to Harry and gave him an accepting and encouraging nod.

"As you can see, Ron and Hermione continue to give me support and encouragement in life and death situations," he joked. The press people gathered in front of him laughed lightly and Harry felt the mood lighten a bit and was grateful. Harry continued on.

"But there are many others who are also responsible, some greatly, some in a small but valuable way contributed as well. Whether it be a radio program to keep us fighting and defending what we hold dear, or seeing an innocent woman being manipulated into exile or prison by Death Eaters, or simple graffiti on a monument; these acts of defiance, disgust and encouragement kept us determined to go on. To watch Death Eaters de-value human life was sickening. It motivated us to keep going, to fight on. We had something to fight for, and something to fight against."

"I am here before you because I carried out the final act but the most credit belongs to Albus Dumbledore, I must repeat, for preparing me; to be able to meet my own mortality if need be, for preparing me in understanding the way Tom Riddle's mind worked, in understanding what drove him so that I could understand how he did such terrible things in his quest for immortality and ultimate power."

"Albus Dumbledore, was a man not unlike everyone else here. A man who had his own faults and problems that he had to work through like everyone else. He was a man who learned from his mistakes but would be the first one to admit when he made one. I'm sure you know he was not modest about his accomplishments, nor should he have been. There are those who found him arrogant in his brilliance. Perhaps that may be, but it would have been shameful to not give respect to the incredible light that he could bring to a situation. For all his accomplishments, you know he told me, he would have been pleased to receive a pair of wool socks for Christmas instead of more books. He was human. He had faults. I acknowledge that wholeheartedly. We had our rows the headmaster and me. He tried to protect me from Voldemort, trying to figure out just when would be the best time to tell an 11 year old boy what was to come of his life. Perhaps he erred in not telling me sooner. I was 15 when he did so, after the death of the innocent Sirius Black. Time will tell me surely that I would have no idea how to tell a child that he was marked for death by the greatest dark wizard of all time."

"Slowly, he tried to reveal bits and pieces of the puzzle of the Dark Lord to me so that I could put things together myself and come to the realization on my own. This angered me greatly at times. I just wanted to know all at once, but he was right. I was not ready to know it all when I was so young; it is very hard to admit that. I am not sure I'm ready to know as much as I do today. The horrors Voldemort committed against pure innocence are unmentionable, and I will not go into the details of them. History will unearth those soon enough; I leave that decision to the Ministry to expose the details of his murders. I think I need more time than just two days to think things through still, regarding the little details." He stopped and took a breath before telling the next part. "I began to see into his mind." He pointed at the scar. "Being marked by his dark magic allowed me to understand him on a level that no one else could. He chose me when he did so. That is how I became the Chosen One. And, Voldemort did not understand that it was he himself who had chosen the one to seal his fate." He stopped a moment and took a breath and looked at Ginny. She had grown pale suddenly. He wondered if he could continue until she nodded her head to give him confidence.

"Dumbledore encouraged me to confide my feelings, my anger, and my questions in my two best friends who had proved themselves loyal, trustworthy, and discreet. They were an excellent sounding board for me. Slowly the headmaster revealed parts of Voldemort's past as Tom Riddle, what drove him, his interests, and his past exploits in the Muggle world as a child. Together we put the pieces of the puzzle together. Ever the teacher, Dumbledore was setting up a quest for me—so that I would acquire the knowledge for myself so that the magic needed to end this would be earned and thus that much more powerful when I was to confront him. To give me all the information without doing any work to get it would have lessened any impact I had at the end just a few days ago." Harry frowned a moment. I think I just basically repeated myself. Well, either they'll think I'm an idiot, or understand I'm nervous. He shrugged inwardly and continued on.

The professor began leaving Hogwarts to investigate his findings. On one mission, he was hurt. The dark magic that Voldemort used to guard his secrets was very great as you can imagine. It was one of his security spells that damaged the headmaster's hand and turned it black. If it wasn't for Professor Snape, Dumbledore would have been killed within hours of making contact with it. Severus Snape, a very gifted wizard, saved his life and gave him approximately a year to live instead of mere hours." He stopped and took another breath. He goes…

"Severus Snape, the last headmaster of Hogwarts, was a good man, a conflicted man, a man in a very dangerous position. He was a former Death Eater, turned informant for Dumbledore. The death of Albus Dumbledore was planned between them. I repeat, Severus Snape did not murder Albus Dumbledore. That job had been given to Draco Malfoy by Voldemort. Dumbledore asked Snape to do the job, to kill him, to spare the soul of Draco Malfoy if it came down to it. Although Malfoy sadly believed much of the pureblood ideology that he was brought up with, Dumbledore did not want him to have to live with any guilt that might come. Snape was extremely upset at this request, but came to terms with it as a necessary deed to keep up the charade that he was still in Voldemort's employ. At a crucial point, Professor Snape helped me directly.

When Dumbledore died, he willed certain items to me. Items that if I put the pieces together, a quest, would allow me to destroy Voldemort's security measures, possibly protect me if used correctly, and bring Voldemort back to mortality. For sentimental reasons, he left me the snitch from my first Quidditch match." He looked at Hermione and Ron for added assurance that he was not going to reveal the Deathly Hallows to the public or to the Ministry.

"The other item was the Sword of Gryffindor. It was Severus Snape who was responsible for us receiving the Sword of Gryffindor which became such a help to us throughout our quest. The sword was used to destroy three of Voldemort's security measures over the years—Dumbledore did one, Ron Weasley used it against another just after Christmas. Neville Longbottom destroyed another by using the sword against Nagini, Voldemort's snake, in whom another security measure had been hidden. Very few things would have been able to help us, but Dumbledore impregnated the sword with Basilisk venom which is an extremely powerful poison. If you know any history behind the sword, only a true Gryffindor can acquire the sword in time of need and use it. The mere sight of the sword in our possession made Bellatrix Lestrange accidentally reveal the hiding place of another of Voldemort's secrets; Gringott's. That was why we were there last week. We were not there to personally profit by theft; our aim was only to take what Voldemort had hidden deep within the bank. The break-in alerted Tom Riddle to the fact that I knew how he had secured his immortality; that I was in fact looking for his devices. This brought us to Hogwarts, the last hiding place. Once Voldemort checked on the condition of others, finding them gone, he came immediately to Hogwarts assuming I would be there to continue the hunt. The battle was not planned. We tried to keep our presence in the school as quiet as possible, but that did not work, obviously.

"This journey against and with Voldemort began with my parents and their friends and the people who fought against the Dark Lord many years ago, the Order of the Phoenix. My parents went into hiding and died trying to defend me. That awful night many lives were changed. One among them was a man named Sirius Black, my Godfather.

"My father, James Potter had three best friends: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. The last of which betrayed my father, gave the whereabouts of my parents to Tom Riddle, and in so doing assisted in their deaths. He framed Sirius Black for the murders of 13 Muggles. Sirius escaped Azkaban and exposed Pettigrew, an unregistered animagus who had, that infamous night cut off his finger before transforming into a rat. He then went into hiding for the next 12 years."

Peripherally, he could see Ron shift uncomfortably. Deciding not to look at him, he moved on. "To let the world know what happened would have put Sirius' life in further jeopardy as the Death Eaters would have hunted him down. He remained in hiding, another prison, for the last two years of his life. After discovering Pettigrew's secret, we transformed him back into a man, but he escaped and without evidence of Pettigrew's being alive, thus Sirius Black was still a condemned man with no evidence to the contrary."

"A month ago we were captured by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor for interrogation. The Dark Lord killed Pettigrew then. He did this when Pettigrew showed a moment's hesitation in dealing with us, a moment of mercy. That small act was enough to condemn him to death. He strangled Pettitgrew using the magical hand that Voldemort made for him on the night that Pettigrew helped to bring his master back to life using my blood; the same night Cedric Diggory was killed. Voldemort would only accept blind loyalty and submission—something that the fighters at Hogwarts understood and would not accept."

He took a deep breath, a memory crossing his features. He looked around at the people who would not believe him three years earlier because it was either convenient —to label him a nutter—or was it too frightening to believe his story. Harry chose the latter and pushed down the brewing anger inside him. Two deaths had occurred that year that needed to be explained again, apparently. Could this all have been stopped if he had just been listened to by the right people? He was still angry at Cornelius Fudge. He glanced at Kingsley, and thought at least they were on the right track now.

"The night Cedric Diggory was killed…will haunt me forever I believe. Voldemort's servant, Barty Crouch Jr. had escaped Azkaban and used Polyjuice Potion to become a double for retired Auror, Alastor "MadEye" Moody whom he kept captive. Right from day one, Crouch was in place in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was Crouch who murdered his own father, and who was responsible for my name going into the Triwizard Cup. He confunded the cup into thinking there were four schools, and my name was submitted under another school's name. Since there was only one student entered from that school, naturally the cup chose me as a champion. It was Crouch who turned the cup into a portkey."

"When Cedric and I chose to touch the trophy together to have a tie, we were transported to a grave yard in Little Hangleton where Voldemort's father, Tom Riddle Sr., and grandparents were buried. Riddle by the way was responsible for each of their killings; it was a revenge for his father's rejection and abandonment of his mother. Merope Gaunt Riddle had fallen in love with a Muggle, used a love potion to have him love and marry her. When she chose to no longer use the potion, her husband threw her out and she gave birth to Tom Riddle Jr. in a Muggle orphanage and died an hour later. The Riddle family gardener, Frank Bryce, accused in the Muggle world of their murders, was also killed by Voldemort when he went to check on the house that he still took care of. He is an example of another who just fell in his path and Voldemort, being who he was, took no value in human life and disposed of him—a man who stayed loyal to a slain family despite the controversy of being accused himself of their murders."

"I digressed a moment to show you how much research was involved in learning about him. But, now I return to the horrible night in question. Voldemort immediately ordered Pettigrew to kill Cedric, and then I was bound to a headstone statue while Pettigrew performed the magic as instructed by Voldemort to bring him back to a full physical man. The dark magic included the severing of the servant's arm, robbing the grave and taking a bone from his father's skeleton, and using my blood."

"As I said, this was indeed a process. Voldemort's actions changed some of that process and Dumbledore figured it out. By using my blood instead of anyone else', he tripled the connection between us. The connections between the Dark Lord and me are: the most obvious one, the scar on my forehead, the fact that our wands shared the same core, and now my blood. The scar allowed me to get into his mind when he was exceptionally emotional and not guarding himself. I knew why he was upset or happy in those moments and that allowed us to analyze whatever happened, and plan our next move."

"Both our wands held at their core a phoenix feather from the same bird. This made them act strangely. Neither wand wanted to kill its brother. When they connected in our duel in Little Hangleton, my wand imbibed some of Voldemort's wand's power which thus became more powerful against Voldemort's wand."

"The third connection: my blood. He rebuilt his body using my blood, which had my mother's protective enchantment. Thus, we were both tethered to life when he used the killing curse against me for the second time, giving us both a second chance at life if hit by the Avada Kedavra. When I faced Voldemort in the Great Hall, both of us were free of any protective enchantment, and all of his security measures destroyed, by basilisk venom, fiendfyre, or his own killing curse rebounding on him again.

The last of my father's close circle of friends was the late great man, Remus Lupin, our former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Without his tutelage, I would never have been able to make a full bodied patronus at age 13, and then teach other students how to do so and defend themselves when we were faced with a teacher two years later who refused to teach us practical defense. Remus Lupin taught us how to break free from dark magic, which came in handy this year," he said as he glanced quickly at Ron. "He could even be held responsible for my winning the Triwizard Cup as his teachings helped me to overcome many obstacles during the competition. Remus, was a wonderful teacher, mentor, and later became a great friend. He suffered from lycanthropy. His life was made hell by so many, yet he was here, fighting Voldemort along with the people who thought so little of him because of an affliction. He stepped up, as he always did. He was one of my father's best friends, and I could certainly see why. He honored me with the request that I be his son's godfather.

"Remus Lupin…a werewolf. How our world has turned its back on people in need, in distress—on creatures that they think are somehow inferior to them. Voldemort and his Death Eaters personified hate, intolerance, supremacist thinking, and the devaluation of life and dignity based on criterion."

"How did you feel when your neighbor was taken or killed for simply being who he is? Did you stand up to stop it? Or did you hide away in your homes and put your head down so that no one noticed you? We are all guilty in some form or another of this. We turn a blind eye to house elves magically bound to serve wizards because it is inconvenient to analyze how much we have benefitted from their servitude." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron's comforting arm come up around the shoulders of a silently weeping Hermione. She saw the injustice so much earlier than he and Ron did and finally he understood how connected she felt to them in this magical world. He folded close the final paragraph of his prepared speech. Suddenly, it felt so benign as he thought of the torturous night, and of the cackles and sneers in the forest when he arrived to face Voldemort. What had he done to any of these people? He was on the fly now, and her tears gave him the purpose to carry on with this line of thought."

"We neglect to hear the beliefs of Goblins because they conflict with ours, yet they are just as valid. I am one man. A man whose life and those of my friends were saved by an elf, Dobby. He was a free elf. He chose to sacrifice his personal safety to save us."

"There are many problems in this world. Voldemort was an easy target to blame everything on. Now, he is gone. It would be irresponsible for all of us to stand here and say our troubles are over. Many took part in what happened this past year, actively or passively. You may not have raised a wand against your fellow wizard, but did you raise your wand in their defense? There is a lot of work to be done, privately, personally and publically. And when the words, beliefs and actions from all theatres reflect one another, perhaps we will truly begin to heal, to find absolution."

Harry nodded curtly and stepped away from the podium placing his papers in his jacket pocket. His direction was clear and made his way over to Hermione and Ron. Her face, red and puffy and tear stained, she reached for Harry and they embraced each other as their partners looked on in understanding and sympathy. Ginny having made her way over to her brother and his girlfriend when Harry spoke of Dobby, came to offer her support to Hermione. When Harry and Hermione broke apart, she whispered, "Thank you."

"Right back at you. Suddenly, everything became so much clearer—everything you've been saying for years. Most brilliant woman I know," he said proudly. He looked at Ron, "Don't let her get away, mate," as he patted him on the shoulder. Ron beamed with admiration for his girlfriend and quickly grabbed her hand. Harry copied the action with Ginny and the four of them made their way towards a corridor near the fireplace hallway following Kingsley Shacklebolt.

When finally sequestered away from the press, Harry began to shake a little at everything he had just relived. Ginny beside him squeezed his hand trying to give him a boost of support and confidence. "That was very well done Harry. It's over now."

He smiled down at her, enjoying the warmth of her eyes focused only on him as if there wasn't another in the world right now. "I think it's just beginning…a new phase of the war, this time with ourselves."

"I just meant…"

"I know. Thanks," he said softly.

Kingsley walked over to him with a glass of water and handed it to Harry. "You are very astute in your assessment of things Harry. It is unfortunate. We will all have to examine our roles in letting this get out of hand. Fear is powerful, and power does indeed corrupt. To that end I have a proposition for you."

Surprised, Harry listened intently to the Minister of Magic.

"I am aware of Headmistress McGonagall's offers to you—go back and finish seventh year if you wish or receive your diploma immediately. Whichever you choose, there would be a job waiting for you here at the Ministry. I think you would make an excellent Auror. You could get paid for what you've been doing for the past year. I think you would even have the potential to head the Department someday. Think about it and get back to me.

He looked at Ginny. A future with her seemed all the more possible in that moment. He had a home and now a job at his fingertips if he wanted. She smiled up at him, her pride and love for him overflowing. That was all he needed.

"Thought about it. I'd be glad to start work right away. Start to get a real life—if you think I'm ready. How long is training?"

"Usually, full training is three years in length. I'll get you the books required. But I'd say, there's not one person in that department who wouldn't welcome you immediately into the fold." He smiled and put out his hand to Harry, "Welcome to the new Ministry of Magic, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled and shook Kingsley's hand. Kingsley nodded his head in approval. "I think that was the shortest job interview of my life!"

Harry laughed, "Mine too. But, I do have a request to put in."

"Yes."

"Well, I need a month or so before beginning. Hermione, well, we have to find her parents…" They relayed what Hermione had done to keep her parents safe. Harry was going to pay her way to Australia and accommodations. They didn't mention Ron's accompanying her. That was private. Harry would stay behind unless contacted by them if there was a problem. He had left Ginny enough, he decided.

"Enough said. A memory charm! Merlin, that's pretty advanced magic for someone who's only passed 6th year. That's second year Auror training, my dear! Well, well, maybe we should recruit you as well, actually, all of you." He looked at Ron too, impressed with the young man who stood by so protectively. Harry had told Kingsley of how Ron had saved him and broken free of Voldemort's dark magic. Kingsley decided he would make a special trip to both these young people to offer them work so that they would not feel the offer was only because Harry was in the room. Their ingenuity had saved the day more than once, and with Harry's comment of their decency and moral fortitude, he could not imagine rebuilding the Ministry without such fine young people.

"Hermione, the Ministry will gladly pay for you to get to Australia and find your parents. Save your money Harry. I think it's the least we can do. Book an open ended flight on a Muggle airline." He glanced at Ron and added. "Make that two tickets, and accommodation as required. As capable as you are, I would feel remiss for a young woman to be travelling alone. It's such a long flight. You'll enjoy the company," he said resisting the urge to wink.

"Thank you, Kingsley," Hermione said, feeling very touched. Her family would be together soon. First though, they had several funerals to attend and the Celebration of Independence as it was already being called by people everywhere in honor of Victory Day. It felt very strange to celebrate and mourn at the same time, but that was the ironic legacy of war.

"Thanks, Kingsley," Ron said as he shook the Minister's hand.

"I will see you all tomorrow. The service for your brother is at 11am, yes?" he inquired of Ron.

Ron nodded his head gravely, unable to speak all of a sudden.

Kingsley covered their handshake with his other hand, firmly shaking and holding Ron's hand simultaneously in a gesture of admiration mixed with sympathy. "A very brave and honorable family. Tomorrow we honor Fred specifically, but he will have a special place in our hearts for a very long time. I can't tell you how much he lifted my spirits on that radio program. Some people truly make a difference in so many lives. It is a shame, how loss points this out so clearly."

"Thank you," Ron replied sincerely. "For everything, really," he added, gesturing towards Hermione.

Soon they would plan for something positive, something long overdue.

A/N: I personally never understood how Dumbledore's explanation of how Lily's enchantment kept Harry and Voldemort tethered to life if it had worn off when Harry turned seventeen. Glad to receive a PMS on that one from a smarter person than I.