Chapter Text
28th December 1997
Moments after Ron pulled Harry from the frozen pond, with Harry still shivering with cold, Ron looked at him.
“Are you mental?” Ron said, with a half-hearted laugh.
“That was you?” Harry asked, his voice still sharp in remembered anger.
“Well, yeah…” Ron nodded. “Bit obvious, I think.”
“And you cast the doe, as well, did you?” Harry dragged on his jeans, buttoning them as he talked to Ron.
“No.” Ron shook his head. “I thought that was you?”
“No, my Patronus is a stag.” Harry replied.
“Oh, right…” Ron waved his hands around his head. “Antlers…” He sighed. “We’ve got a bigger problem than snake-face.”
“What?” Harry barely paused as he was getting dressed.
“Dumbledore’s alive.” Ron stated.
“What?” Harry’s eyes went wide and the rest of him went still. “We need to tell Hermione.” He spun towards the tent.
“She knows.” Ron closed his eyes in imagined pain. “She’s known since the beginning.”
“What?” Harry stumbled to a halt, looking at Ron.
“She knows.” Ron repeated. “She’s known since the beginning. We need to get to a pensieve and I can show you. Explaining it is… I don’t know anything, but what I saw. And that was… she’s not our friend and I don’t think she ever was…” The pain on Ron’s face was heartbreaking. “She’s been giving us both potions, that mum brewed. Love potions, control potions, core binding potions, recklessness potions, loyalty potions. There’s a whole slew of them, according to Bill and Fleur.”
“No…” Harry shook his head. “She wouldn’t… would she?”
“One way to find out.” Ron waved his hands. “I haven’t been here to give them to you, so the only way for them to be in your system, is if she gave them to you.”
“Yeah…” Harry looked at Ron, not able to say anything more. Thoughts of both Ron and Hermione’s actions at different times, filled his head. Who to trust? Hermione with the book-smarts or Ron with his strategy smarts?
“I propose that we stun her,” Ron said, “and apparate to Bill’s. He’s got a pensieve and can get a goblin to certify my memories, as unaltered. And you can see it for yourself.”
That made the decision so much easier. Gringotts refused to involve themselves in wizarding matters, so they were the closest to neutral there was. Getting a memory certified by them, was proof in and of itself.
“She’s really mad at you.” Harry huffed. “You’d better hang back, out of sight, or she’ll come out swinging.”
“It’s still dark.” Ron looked up. “Think she’ll be asleep? Can you stun her, without waking her?”
“I’ll try.” Harry’s face went hard. “But Ron?”
“Yeah?”
“If you’re making this up, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”
“I’ll give you an oath that I’m not, Harry.” Ron offered.
“We’ll see.” Harry nodded sharply. “For now? Follow me, but be ready to hide at the first sign, that she’s awake.”
“Right.” Ron nodded hung back, keeping Harry in sight, but remaining in the shadows.
Harry slipped back into the tent, as silently as he slipped around Privet Drive. Hermione lay curled half on her side and half on her stomach. Harry looked at her for a moment. Did he really want to trust Ron over her? She’d stayed when Ron had left.
But he came back. A tiny voice in his mind, added. And she always argues with my decisions.
“Stupify…” The cast was almost silent. Not quite, but almost. Enough weak to make her dizzy or if he was incredibly lucky, knock her out for a few seconds. “Stupify.” This time it was said firmly, with a good deal of power behind it. “Ron! She’s out. Come and give me a hand.”
Ron entered the tent, cautiously. Seeing the slumped form of the witch, he sighed in relief.
“Help me pack up.” Harry ordered. “Leave her for last.”
“Right.” Ron nodded and the two went about the process of packing their things, Hermione’s things and the tent, everything went into Hermione’s beaded bag and that had Harry pausing.
“She’s got everything in that bag.” Harry said.
“Yeah…?” Ron tilted his head in confusion.
“While she’s got everything in that bag, she controls everything.” Harry expanded. “We couldn’t do anything without her.”
“Oh…” Ron blinked, he hadn’t thought about it, like that. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
“Can you apparate the three of us?”
“Possibly.” Ron grimaced. “But thankfully, I don’t have to. Bill gave me a portkey. It’ll put us on the beach, just below the cottage.” He held out a length of rope.
“Good.” Harry nodded. “Tie it around her wrist. Then you hold one end and I’ll hold the other.”
“Right.” Ron looped the rope around Hermione’s wrist with a simple clove-hitch, before holding out one end to Harry. Harry took a deep breath and closed his fingers around the rope. “This isn’t quite the same as the World Cup portkey,” Ron went on, “with this one, it’s better to wait until we land, before letting go. Just bend your knees to cushion the landing.”
“Gotcha.” Harry nodded and let his knees loosen and flex.
“Mum’s a bitch.” Ron said, confusing Harry, until the portkey grabbed at him and he realised that Ron’s comment, was the activation phrase.
The beach was empty when they landed and for once, Harry landed easily. He released the rope and quietly followed Ron, as he made his way towards the cottage, Hermione floating between them. It only took Harry a few moments to work out why the cottage was called ‘Shell Cottage’. Instead of using tiles for the roof, the entire thing was covered in scallop shells.
Inside he was met with, not just Bill and Fleur, but also Fred, George, Remus and Tonks. They all greeted him with hugs and exclamations of relief.
“This looks like an intervention.” Harry huffed, stepping back from Remus.
“It does, kind of.” Tonks was nearly six months pregnant and it showed.
“But apparently, it’s not just for you.” Remus added, looking at the twins and Fleur.
“Where is she?” Harry asked. Ron had vanished with Hermione, while Harry was greeting people.
“Through there.” Bill nodded to what was clearly a utility area, as it had a magical washer-dryer tucked up against a cupboard and Hermione laying on the floor. “I’ve put a silencing ward on the room, we can hear her, but she can’t hear us. Any idea how long she’ll be out?” He shut the door to the room, blocking any chance of her seeing who was there, if she should wake before they were ready for her.
“I put a fair bit of power behind the cast.” Harry answered. “More than what would usually knock her out for an hour, during the DA sessions.”
“We only need a half hour to convince you.” Bill stated. “Then it’s planning. We can decide on what to do with her, then.”
“Right.” Harry nodded. “So, a memory?” Bill and Ron nodded. “Whose memory?”
“Mine.” Ron waved a hand.
“How do we get it certified?” Harry asked.
“Half a sec.” Bill held up a hand and darted into the kitchen. A few seconds later, the floo activated and a goblin emerged from the green flames. Bill led the goblin into the living room and looked around the room. “This is Slipknot, he’s from the certifications department. He’s been paid to assess the memory and if it passes Gringotts’ testing, to certify it. If it doesn’t pass, he’ll document why.”
“Greetings.” Slipknot nodded to the gathered magicals. “Whose memory is being assessed?”
“Mine, Certifier.” Ron was politer than Harry expected.
The goblin held out a phial. “Retrieve the memory.” Ron raised his wand to his temple and a clump of silvery strands, were slowly drawn from Ron’s mind. “Into the phial.” The goblin tapped the phial and the strands were sucked into it. “One moment.” Slipknot’s silver-tipped claw, slipped into the phial and his eyes fluttered closed. When he opened them, he sighed. “Unaltered and unbiased. A near perfect memory extraction. Excellent recall, Mr Weasley.” Slipknot nodded to Ron. “I have no hesitation, in certifying this memory as unaltered and unbiased.” He pulled a tiny scroll of parchment from a pocket and placed the phial on it, muttering under his breath. The scroll lit up and glowed for a few seconds. “Your memory and Gringotts’ certification, for said memory.” He turned to Bill. “Do you require anything else, Shatterfang?”
“Not at this point, thank you for your time, Slipknot.” Bill quickly and calmly led the goblin back to the kitchen and activated the floo, again. A few seconds and Bill was back. “The pensieve.” He pulled a cupboard open. Dumbledore’s pensieve had been a shallow metal bowl, but Bill’s was a dark, rough-cut stone, the inside polished to a glossy black sheen. He laid it on the trunk acting as a coffee table. “This type of pensive doesn’t require full immersion, just a finger is enough. It won’t start until activated, so no worries about missing something because you were late joining in.” He nodded Ron. “Tip it in.” Ron carefully opened the phial and tipped the silvery contents into the pensieve. “Fingers in.” Bill ordered and when eight fingers were in the liquid, he tapped the bowl with his wand and the memory exploded up around them.
“Whoa, that’s different.” Tonks whispered.
“Goblin pensieve.” Bill replied. “Now, hush.”
Pensieve-Ron emerged from the Burrow’s bathroom, intent on heading back to bed, when he heard the rush of the floo.
“It’s not dawn, yet.” Ron whispered to himself. “Who’s coming here, at this hour?”
“Are either of them awake, Molly?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice reached him.
Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh, shite…” He crept down the stairs as quietly as he could, avoiding the two rigged steps, knowing that they would set off alarms in the kitchen. He knelt behind the door into the living room and peeked through the gap between the door and its frame.
“Of course not, Albus.” Molly huffed, as she set about mixed bread dough. “I dosed them both with sleeping potion. They’ll sleep through ‘til seven, I’ll have to use the antidote to get Ron out of bed, though. Greedy little brat ate more than Arthur.”
“What’s he doing back here?” Dumbledore asked.
“Apparently, he and Harry had a falling out.” Molly repeated. “Hermione says she used too much of the aggression inducer and not enough of the stupidity potion, by accident. They were in the same shape bottle and in poor light, they’re a similar colour.”
“Do you believe her?” Dumbledore frowned.
“Oh, yes.” Molly answered. “She was quite put out with herself.”
“I see…” Dumbledore paused, obviously thinking about something. “And how long before you can send him back to them?”
“I’ll send him to Bill’s in the morning.” Molly replied. “Keeping him hidden from Arthur is straining the obliviousness potions, but I couldn’t send him on, until I was certain the potions were levelled out. Bill won’t put up with him for long. Maybe a week or so, but I doubt that it’ll be much more than a few days, though. Ron’s quite stupid around the blonde bint. And he eats like a pig.” A pause. “No, Bill won’t let him stay for long.”
“Good, we need him with Harry, right until the end.”
“And when will that be?” Molly asked. “My darling Ginny is stuck in that horrid castle, with those monsters. I don’t like it, Albus.”
“I’ve no idea, Molly.” Dumbledore sighed. “It all depends on Harry, Ron and Hermione getting the other horcruxes. I can’t help them, not without exposing myself, earlier than intended. Harry, Tom and Severus must not know I’m alive, not until the very end.”
“But why?” Molly nearly whined. “That’s something I’ve never understood, why stay hidden?”
“If any of them knew that the prophecy was fraudulent,” Dumbledore replied, “our whole plan would collapse. No artefacts and Wizengamot seat for me, not money for you and Ginevra, no library for Hermione.”
“Ah.” Molly grunted. “Who knows? That it’s fake?” She looked up from kneading dough.
“You and I.” Dumbledore stated. “I trust no-one else, Molly. No-one.”
“Not even your granddaughter?” She paused in her kneading.
“Of course not.” Dumbledore huffed. “Hermione’s book-smart, but she’s quite gullible. I emptied the Potter library of anything decent, years ago.”
“True.” Molly agreed.
“And what of Black?” Dumbledore asked. “Any problems with him?”
“Oh, it’s quite annoying.” Molly huffed. “None of my potions work on him. He’s wearing a Lord’s ring, Albus. The best I can do, is to keep him locked up in a trunk in the attic. Arthur thinks it’s the ghoul, so there’s little issue there. Are you certain we need him? I’d dearly like to stop feeding him. Between him and Ron, the purse is quite tight.”
“He has to ratify Harry as his Heir and acknowledge Harry’s marriage to Ginevra, before he dies, or the entire estate goes to the Malfoy brat.” Dumbledore huffed. “We’ll need to move him to Hogsmeade, just before the battle. I can hit him with an imperius, once the battle starts.”
“And Ginny?”
“If Tom stays true to my charmwork, he’ll offer a pause in hostilities, for us to see to the dead. At that point, I’ll compel Harry into proposing to Ginny, and Hermione into suggesting that they wed, right then. That way when Harry faces Tom and dies, Ginevra will already be Mrs Potter. Then I’ll step out and kill Tom.”
“Arthur and his sons?”
“Arthur, the boys, Lupin, Black, Shacklebolt and Tonks, will all die.” Dumbledore stated. “Even if I have to do it, myself.”
“Excellent…” Molly sighed in pleasure. “Are you sure that Snape doesn’t know?”
“Of course, not.” Dumbledore huffed. “I’m still Headmaster, so the wards are only telling him what I allow them to.”
“Oh, lovely…” The loaf of dough was transferred to a basket and placed beside the stove, to prove.
“Yes, it is quite beneficial.” Dumbledore agreed. “So, Ronald will go to William’s, who will likely evict him, in a few days. Whereupon he’ll return to Hermione and Harry’s side. As soon as it looks like Tom’s moving, I will notify you, to bring Black to the shrieking shack and I’ll take him to my hidden quarters, inside Hogwarts. Hermione will nudge Harry and Ronald towards the last of the horcruxes. I will push Tom into attacking Hogwarts. Then, I will compulsion Harry into proposing to Ginevra. Finally, I will prod Hermione into suggesting they wed immediately. You might suggest that Minerva officiate. Harry will confront Tom and be killed. I will then step forward, tell the Order that Snape or Bellatrix had captured me and I’ve only just escaped. I’ll confront and kill Tom. We’ll ‘mourn’ our fallen hero, for a few days, then lodge the Will I’ve written for Harry and claim the estate between us. Agreed?”
“Oh, yes…” Molly simpered.
“Excellent.” Dumbledore said. “Then I’ll leave you to it, my dear. If you have any issues, send a Patronus and I’ll do what I can.”
“Of course, Albus.” Molly assured the old wizard and moments later, the floo rushed and the kitchen went silent. “Right. Breakfast for the mutt.” The usual kitchen sounds began and Ron quietly took himself back to his room.
“Oh, this bad…” He whispered to himself.
When the memory finished, Shell Cottage’s living room fell back into place around the watchers.
“Oh, Merlin…” Tonks whispered.
“Yes, yes. We’re all shocked.” Ron huffed. “But what are we going to do?” He looked at the others. “That old goat plans to let my best mate be murdered, before he murders the rest of us.” He growled. “Are we going to let that happen?”
“Of course not.” Fleur huffed. “But what can we do?”
“I’ve broken it down into four issues.” Ron said. “One, Hermione. We need to keep her under control, or do like the old goat intends to do to us and kill her.” There were a few nods. “Two. Sirius and getting him out. That’s not hard, but we’ll need to put someone in his place, unless we want mum and the old goat alerted.” More nods. “Three. Snake-face. I’ve no ideas about him. If we kill him, we’re doing what the old goat wants and if we don’t, he’ll come after us, because of the old goat’s charmwork.”
“Hold up.” Harry held up a hand. “I’ve an idea and I don’t think any of you are going to like it.”
“Oh, shite…” Remus groaned. “That’s Lily’s ‘Planning Murder’ look.”
~~~