Sirius stood on the overgrown front lawn of Black Manor, taking in the view. He’d only seen it once as a child when his mother Walburga had brought him to visit his cousins and Uncle Cygnus. It was much the same, though there was more ivy and moss crawling up the red brick walls than he could recall. And the grounds had really gone wild without anyone to upkeep them over the years.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of hyacinth and rose. Grinning, he turned to his companion, who appeared to be mildly unsettled.
“One day this’ll be all ours Remus,” said Sirius. “But for the moment it’s perfect as a headquarters for the Order. So what say we have a look inside then? ... see how much work needs to be done to make it habitable again.”
“I’d say proceed with caution Sirius,” Remus retorted, taking another deep sniff himself. “The manor may not be as entirely uninhabited as it may appear.”
“Nonsense! The charms warding the estate may not be what they were, but they’re enough to keep it from discovery by muggle squatters.”
“Who said anything about muggle squatters?” Remus raised one eyebrow. Sirius looked a bit disconcerted.
“What? Do you really think that wizard squatters would take up residence without shoring up the wards? There’d be some sort of sign.”
“I’m just saying...” Lupin’s moustache twitched wryly. “You might want to change into your canine form and take a sniff for yourself.”
“Hmmm... I think I’ll let you be our nose for now, Remus. But maybe you’re right... caution is the better part of valour after all!”
Sirius took his wand out as he slowly opened the front door of the manor. Glancing around inside, seeing no-one, he beckoned Remus to follow him in. Warily the two wizards crept through the house, searching room by room.
It was a bit dusty and cobwebby, but Sirius noted with some satisfaction that the furniture and paintings were all covered with white linens. And no doubt charms had been cast to prevent them from succumbing to rot and woodworm. There was nothing that a few house elves borrowed from Hogwarts couldn’t fix within a few hours of cleaning.
Remus halted outside the entrance of one of the manor’s many parlours and gestured to Sirius to remain silent. He pointed to the other side of the entryway. Sirius understood. On Remus’s mark Sirius quietly entered the room, his wand at the ready while Remus covered him.
Sirius’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared down the witch’s wand pointed directly at him. For a moment they both stood there, wands pointed at each other while Remus looked on with some trepidation. Slowly they all lowered their wands.
“Narcissa!? What are you doing here?” Sirius looked perplexed.
“This is my childhood home... I have every right to be here. What about you?”
“But... I don’t understand...”
“Did Dumbledore not tell you? I am parting ways with my husband... You didn’t think I’d remain in his house did you?”
“Well... No, but...”
“Where else did you think I would go?” Narcissa snapped. “Andromeda’s? You should know that I’ve not spoken to her in many years - her daughter works with you does she not? ... And surely Severus would have mentioned that he visited me here not so long ago?”
“Er... no...” Sirius swallowed uncomfortably, then sighed. “Severus and I don’t chat much...”
Remus snorted, his moustache twitching mirthfully at his companion’s understatement. Sirius rolled his eyes and continued as if he hadn’t heard.
“...Just because Severus and I have more or less buried the hatchet doesn’t mean that we have tea-parties and share gossip after all.”
“No... I suppose not.” Narcissa’s demeanor softened. “Anyway, why have you come Sirius?”
“Well... I had planned to take up residence one day,” Sirius retorted, smiling. “But never mind that Narcissa. I can always buy my own estate - heaven knows that I can afford it. In the meantime however, I had suggested to Dumbledore that this would be the perfect headquarters for the Order...”
“Oh!” Narcissa interjected, raising her eyebrows. “By all means - that can certainly be arranged. I am more or less a member now... and I must admit, I could use the company.”
“Splendid!” beamed Sirius. “Now that’s settled, perhaps a drink to celebrate? I’m sure there must be some wine or brandy about.”
“Of course Sirius... Please sit! Mr Lupin? ... some for you too?”
“Er... alright then. That’s very kind of you Madam Black.”
“Please... no formalities are necessary between us. Narcissa will do...”
“Very well,” Lupin smiled politely as he seated himself in one of the plush armchairs, “...and Remus is good enough for me...”
“I admit, I rather enjoyed my job at the Prophet, and embellishing the truth for Dolores, but I’m no blood purist. It was just another job for me.”
“Perhaps the veritaserum Headmaster...?” Snape narrowed his eyes at the cagey woman with brassy curls.
“Let us give her the chance to explain, Severus. Ms Skeeter is no longer a prisoner after all, but a refugee seeking asylum,” Dumbledore retorted calmly before taking another sip of tea. “This is a conversation over lunch, not an interrogation.”
Rita licked her lips nervously. The headmaster’s gentle demeanor and pleasantries aside, Rita knew better; she was still being tested by a master of manipulation - not quite the old fool she had long taken him for. Rita smirked inwardly, realising that Dolores had finally met her match.
“You have to understand,” Rita began, “much like the DMLE, the Unspeakable Office is further split into sub-departments, each of us with our own need-to-know-only directives. I work for the sub-department of Archives and Propaganda, so our department knows a bit more than those who work in Research and Development, or Magical Artifact Storage, let’s say... but we don’t know everything.”
“Dolores is Chief of Operations - their focus is Interrogations, Intelligence gathering, and Assassinations, or doing whatever other Dirty Business the Ministry needs done. But Operations runs the whole show - nobody dare crosses that lot - that means that Dolores is Head of the Department of Mysteries...
“It’s worth pointing out that most of Operations - including Dolores - are Blood Purists... Dolores moved into the top position about five years ago after the previous Head of the Unspeakable Office died under mysterious circumstances. Shortly after that, she maneouvred her way into the DMLE as a mole by taking a position as Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office.
“And...well... as you know, Dolores eventually wangled her way into a position as Fudge’s Senior Undersecretary when his previous Deputy mysteriously got ill. I can’t provide direct evidence for the fact that Dolores orchestrated the attack on the World Cup and the sacking of Fudge... or contracted out the hit on the Potters during the Triwiz, but she’s really the only one who could have.
“She’s bloody ruthless - like a little Voldemort herself - but Dolores has got a lot more self-control than he has - and I daresay more cunning too. And she’ll do anything to achieve her goals.”
“Sub-departments of propaganda and assassinations? This all sounds highly... illegal,” Severus said coldly with raised eyebrows. “Why have no Unspeakables ever approached the DMLE?”
“Because the DMLE can’t protect us. Weren’t you bloody listening?” Rita snapped, rolling her eyes. “And anyway, according to the Unspeakable Office’s Charter, we can only speak up when ordered to by the Minister.”
“We’re independent of the DMLE, and we’re supposed to lie to everyone by Directive unless ordered by the Minister to tell the truth. And our charter even allows us to keep knowledge from the Minister unless he or she directly asks us a specific question - except for Dolores of course, as she is still the Unspeakable Office Head as well as being the Minister.”
The headmaster took off his spectacles and massaged his temples, sighing as another headache came on. Secrets and Unaccountability. Dumbledore had run the Order of the Phoenix in a much similar manner for years, having long believed that it was necessary to play things close to vest in order to fight the Darkness.
Trust had of course been an impossibility while Voldemort’s supporters operated with impunity at all levels of the Ministry and the Wizengamot - and it was apparently little better today, with Dolores herself now enjoying much of that support.
But Dumbledore had been blinded by his own arrogance for so long and kept far too much to himself, instead of sharing it at the very least with those closest to him. If Harry Potter had taught him anything since coming to Hogwarts, it was that Trust between allies was a two way street. And that open communication between friends was the only real way to counter the misdirection of those who sought Power for its own sake or to install a repressive regime.
Dumbledore sighed with some measure of relief, knowing that he had been taking great strides towards rectifying his own mistakes in recent years. In the short term though, some secrets were still best kept in as small a circle as possible. But never again would Dumbledore make the mistake of believing that he alone should know them all.
Perhaps it was time for that pain potion after all. With so many balls in the air, Dumbledore needed some relief from the migraine if he was to be able to maintain his concentration. There was simply too much to do, and so little time.
He needed to confer with the Potters at the earliest opportunity to make arrangements for the summer - discuss things with Amelia - make plans for the Order meeting - safely send the students home from Hogwarts, the Hogwarts Express seemed like too easy a target while the Minister had Voldemort to blame things on - reach out to Horace...
Then there was the matter of the muggle girl. Dumbledore just didn’t have the heart to simply obliviate the girl and send her on her way; he of all people knew intimately how damaged the victims of such traumatic events could become if the underlying cause of the trauma was dealt with improperly...
As Hermione drifted into consciousness behind the curtain in the hospital wing, she snuggled closer to Harry, sighing happily at the sound of his peaceful breathing. As she lay there, an arm around Harry, her head on his shoulder, she also began to hear snatches of conversation from the other side of the curtain.
“...but Albus, we simply don’t have the resources... I’ve healed her injuries, but she needs a mind healer...”
“And I can certainly appreciate that Poppy. Unfortunately, you know as well as I that we cannot bring in someone from St Mungo’s, as much as we both would wish that we could... And I refuse to allow the girl to be lost in the system of the NHS’s Mental Health Service.
“Not only for her sake - Mr Potter would never forgive me if I allowed that to happen... I couldn’t forgive myself... And the fact is that they are simply incapable of dealing with someone who has witnessed our world - she might end up confined in an asylum...”
“...is merely a bandaid Poppy - a temporary fix. While it might remove the memories from the physical pathways of the brain, the memories remain buried in the soul... later to return full force in a firestorm of chaos and pain. No... that is not an option in this case.”
“Well - if you have any suggestions Albus, I’m all ears...”
“For the moment, she is to remain in the isolation ward over the next few days until I have held the Order meeting and seen all the students safely home. Then we shall see... The girl will be perfectly safe here with us for the summer while we work on a solution...”
Hermione felt Harry stirring, his arm clutching her a bit tighter, kissing her bushy head, and knew that he had just awoken.
“What are they talking about Hermione?” he whispered.
“The girl...” Hermione whispered back. “They’re not sure what to do with her. Madam Pomfrey thinks she’ll need a mind healer. Dumbledore wants to look after her here...”
“Well, that’s good then, isn’t it? ... for her I mean?”
“Yes, there’s really nothing else they can do right now... they can’t take her to St Mungo’s. But it’s very dangerous Harry! If anyone found out...”
“Yeah... I understand that...” A note of exasperation crept into Harry’s voice. “But we’ve got t’do something Hermione. Her parents were probably murdered by Wormtail. We can’t just leave her all alone...”
“Of course not Harry! I agree... I just wish there was something we could do to help...”
“And you may yet have a chance to do so...” said a warm voice.
The Potters started and turned pink when they saw Dumbledore’s head poking through their curtain.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Dumbledore said meaningfully, winking as he took a seat at the Potters’ bedside. “I expect that the company of those her own age - especially of those with a foot in both the muggle and wizard worlds - would be of benefit to her recovery...”
“Do you know her name yet?” asked Hermione, feeling a bit uncomfortable about referring to the girl impersonally.
“Ah... indeed,” Dumbledore replied. “By all indications, it would appear that her name is Watts... Jennifer Watts, age fifteen. And I believe you will both be getting a chance to know Miss Watts and assist in her recovery this summer... should you agree to do so.”
“Of course we’ll help!” said Harry. “And if Jennifer needs a place to stay with people to look after her, she can live at Number Twelve with us...”
“That is something I have been meaning to discuss with you and Mrs Potter, Harry. There is no question about you going back to London in a few days time, but I was rather hoping that you would both consent to returning to Hogwarts for the summer...”
Harry and Hermione both looked stunned. After the moment of shock wore off, they both started to speak at once. Dumbledore put his hand up to quiet them.
“I have some things to attend to,” said the headmaster, “and this is not the most appropriate place for this discussion. Meet me in my office after dinner, and we will finish this conversation at that time.”
Dumbledore beckoned the Potters to be seated when they entered his office. The headmaster raised his eyebrows when Tonks followed them in. Of course she would be with them he reminded himself, she was after all their escort. He just hoped the Potters wouldn’t feel too awkward about Tonks’ presence, given the personal direction the discussion would most likely be taking.
The headmaster steepled his fingers and smiled, his eyes twinkling as he regarded the students patiently waiting for him to begin. But he felt his face growing warm as he pondered how best to start the conversation.
Fawkes fluttered his wings and uttered a soft musical note of encouragement. Feeling all eyes expectantly upon him, Dumbledore sobered slightly as he considered the dark tidings that required him to make the odd request. He cleared his throat and began.
“Thank you both for coming tonight, Harry, Mrs Potter... and to you as well Miss Tonks. I suppose I should begin by expressing my delight that you, Harry, and your wife and the rest of the Champions are safely still among us at the conclusion of the Tournament.
“And I should also express the gratitude of myself, Professor Sprout, Headmaster Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime for the solidarity and bravery displayed by the both of you. Indeed along with Miss Delacour, Mr Krum, and Mr Diggory, you have all demonstrated the courage and generosity necessary for the bonds of friendship which will see us all through the dark times ahead of us.”
Dumbledore sighed, his features taking on a more grave expression. “I would that these ties had been forged under better circumstances, but I could not be more proud of you both and the other Champions. And I suppose I would be remiss not to congratulate you Harry for being the Finalist of the Tournament... though given the situation, I don’t doubt that you feel that commiseration is more appropriate.”
The headmaster paused a moment. Harry swallowed and met Dumbledore’s eyes, feeling an odd jumble of emotions. Hermione squeezed his hand comfortingly.
“Thank you Sir! You’re right... I’m just happy that we all made it through alive - I really don’t care who won.”
“Indeed,” the Headmaster replied softly, “That is why I am especially proud of you Harry. You not only found the Courage and Fortitude necessary to see your own way through these deadly tasks, but you also displayed Leadership, Kindness, and Generosity of Spirit, seeing everyone safely through the tournament.
“And as I have already stated, these are the qualities we shall all need in abundance in the times we face ahead of us. You have displayed these qualities... and much more - and that is why I find myself in the position of requesting that you remain at Hogwarts this summer... despite the dangers it may present.”
Harry and Hermione both leaned forward slightly in anticipation, eager to sate their curiosity. Dora was chewing a fingernail, perplexed. This was the first she’d heard of it... she supposed that Dumbledore hadn’t told any of the Order about his plans yet.
“Many people witnessed what happened above the maze Harry...” The headmaster’s gaze caught Harry’s eyes again. “But of all the witnesses, I believe that I may be the only one who has an inkling of what actually occurred.”
“Sir? So... er... was it really our Patronuses that did it then?” Harry glanced at Hermione.
Despite their practice with their Patronuses, and their hopes, neither of them had really expected to actually destroy the Dementors. They had been as surprised as everyone else at the Dementors’ obliteration... just as they had been astonished at the ability of their Patronuses to annihilate the Inferi.
Harry peered questioningly back into the headmaster’s eyes, hoping that Professor Dumbledore would have some answers for their unspoken quandary. He allowed the headmaster to reach into his mind for the answers which he himself could not find.
The headmaster smiled in satisfaction, his cheeks reddening at the confirmation he found. His eyes twinkled again as he steeled his nerves. This conversation would no doubt prove to be even more embarrassing for all involved than the one shortly following the Yule Ball.
“Well... this is indeed an awkward position for a Headmaster to be in... Let me explain. Harry, you and your wife did in fact generate a dual Patronus charm. A most powerful, and most unusual form of Patronus charm - a charm fueled by a most potent Love - and perhaps a bit more...
“A very odd series of events occurred during dinner recently, and also shortly before dinner several months ago... a magical ‘power surge’ of sorts caused some mild shaking, and the lights to go out in Hogwarts - not to mention giving the house elves a few chandeliers, lamps, crystal vases, and mirrors to repair...”
Harry and Hermione both turned crimson in embarrassment and squirmed guiltily in their seats as the headmaster pushed forth.
“In any case, it would appear that your... erm... exploits in the watery crystalline environment conjured by the Room of Requirement transferred the magic released by said exploits throughout the foundation of Hogwarts itself.”
Dora looked puzzled, not sure what Dumbledore was on about. Harry’s eyes grew as big as saucers and he grinned at Hermione, who appeared astounded at having been so close to the mark.
“Blimey Hermione! You were absolutely right...” Then, turning back to Dumbledore, Harry explained excitedly, embarrassment temporarily forgotten. “After that first time, Hermione reckoned that the water and the crystal chamber of the fairy grotto might’ve acted as a sort of magical conductor...”
“Indeed, in a manner of speaking, much as if an electrical charge had been introduced to a pool of saltwater...” the Headmaster replied.
“But how does that explain what our Patronuses did Professor?” asked Hermione, still perplexed.
“It does not,” the headmaster responded, “That only explains how the... er... erm... Sex-Magic was so easily transferred throughout the entire castle...”
Dora couldn’t help it. Her eyes boggled in shock and she clapped a hand to her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle her squeak. She turned as red as a cherry as she peered at the Potters, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on a private conversation. Harry and Hermione both grinned at her sheepishly.
Dumbledore let the moment pass before speaking again, his own cheeks growing rosier by the minute.
“What happened to the Dementors can only be explained by the fact that somehow, the extremely high magical frequencies produced by your loving sexual encounters, were amplified and multiplied a thousandfold by the strength of your bonds of affection for one another.
“Indeed, I was very puzzled by the strength of your Patronuses when you expelled the Dementors from Hogwarts during your third year...”
“But we weren’t even... er... erm... doing it then...” squeaked Harry.
“We’d really only just realised how much we really loved each other then,” Hermione added. “It was the first time we’d ever properly kissed.”
“Quite!” Dumbledore nodded and raised his bushy white eyebrows. “I only expected as much. But I still had no explanation for the power levels which produced such potent Patroni... However, I have recently begun to formulate a working theory.”
The headmaster paused to see if they had a question, but the Potters held their tongues, eager for Dumbledore to continue.
“It occurred to me, that it may have something to do with not just with the intensity and the high quality of your emotions - the ingredient which fuels most magical spells - but more importantly with the interaction between yourselves... the connection between each other which allowed the magic to circulate, building in frequency and intensity with each cycle...”
“Sort of like a feedback loop!” Hermione interrupted with a gasp. Harry felt a bit lost. But he kept quiet, knowing that Hermione would get around to explaining it to him.
“Yes Mrs Potter,” said Dumbledore, looking very impressed, “very much like a feedback loop...”
“But how...? I mean... what’s the connection between Harry and me that caused it?”
“Ah, well...” Dumbledore responded. “The reason - if I am correct - would be much the same as the reason that wands tend to work to their greatest effect when they are matched with the right individual...”
“Harry, you were right too,” Hermione beamed, giving Harry a playful smack on his shoulder. This time it was her turn to explain the ingenuity of her partner.
“Harry mentioned that Ollivander had told him that the ‘wand chooses the wizard’ ... Harry wasn’t sure that Ollivander meant it literally... just that the wand and its owner needed to be ‘compatible’ in some way.”
Dumbledore’s eyes lit up and he peered at Harry proudly.
“Yes... yes indeed! Very much so! Anyway, to continue... You, Mrs Potter, and Harry, are apparently such a match in a very similar fashion...”
Dora, who was trying just as hard as Harry to follow the discussion, pulled her finger out of her mouth and finally interjected her own thought, trying to make sense of things.
“D’you mean like a Soul Bond?” asked Dora.
“Oh goodness no,” chuckled the headmaster. “Nothing quite so trite and literal... It has more to do with the frequency at which each partner resonates. When two people grow close to one another, their energy fields mingle, and when their frequency signatures match - or very nearly match - they tend to resonate with each other, or harmonise if you will.
“And it is very rare indeed for most people to find a partner with whom they match so completely... which is what leads many to posit the literalisation of mythopoetic concepts such as ‘Soul Bonds’ ... ‘Meant-to-be-together’ is another such mythopoetic construct, but it more closely approximates an accurate description.
“In any case, to sum things up succinctly, the feedback created by the cycling of the resonant frequencies between Harry and Hermione Potter during their... engagements... and during their mutual spellwork, is what is amplifying the potency of the spells - particularly of those spells which are a reflection of the emotion powering it... such as the Patronus, which is the very embodiment of Joy.
“But what about the Dementors?” asked Harry. “Everyone says they’re impossible to destroy, even with a Patronus. I had a feeling that might be wrong if someone produced a powerful enough Patronus...
“I more or less guessed that it might be possible when we were visiting Riddle’s home, but I wasn’t at all certain about it. And... and to be perfectly honest I never really expected that we’d actually be able to do it.”
“That requires a bit more instruction of magical theory, a bit of a history lesson, and a bit of inference to explain Harry,” said Dumbledore.
“Let me begin by saying that Wizards - as living biological entities - are to be regarded as generators of magic. They are not like batteries to be filled and depleted, and magic does not fundamentally behave like electricity, though electricity itself can be viewed as a much lower order or frequency of magic...
“As noted before - the magic that wizards produce is fueled by Emotion, thus putting a kibosh on the long debunked Magical Core Theory...”
“Magic is like the Force, isn’t it!?” Harry interrupted, a surge of exhilaration accompanying his sudden sense of understanding. Hermione’s eyes widened and she nodded, grinning at Harry.
“Yeah... that’s right,” said Dora, who was also experiencing a light bulb going off in her head, “You got it Harry!”
Dumbledore peered at Harry, Hermione, and Dora in bewilderment, not getting the reference.
“Er... sorry sir,” said Harry, when he realised that Dumbledore didn’t know what he was on about. “It’s an idea from a muggle entertainment... a film called Star Wars. ‘The Force’ is sort of a primary ‘energy field’ which everything is built on - supposedly it flows between everything and is always present, but is also generated by all living beings...”
“Ah, yes Harry,” the Headmaster nodded, “Indeed. Magic follows Intent, and it can only do so because Magic is always extant, a priori, and always surrounds us - it is the fundamental form of energy from which the Universe is built.
“The strength and power of magic spells are based primarily on Emotion, but the ability of a wizard to direct the flow of Magic is based on Will and Intent. That ability is hampered when the mind is unfocused or when the Will is weak.
“And when Wizards are physically ill, injured, impaired, or unhappy, they are less able to focus their Intent, their Emotion weakens, and they can sometimes lose their Will altogether - making it impossible for them to perform even the simplest of charms until such a time as they have recovered themselves.
“However, that is not all there is to the matter. There is also Positive and Negative, Light and Dark...”
“Just like in Star Wars...” Harry grinned. Hermione giggled, she pounced proudly on her husband and kissed him on the cheek.
“Quite,” responded Dumbledore in amusement, “In any case, there are many frequencies of ‘Light,’ and it is not known if there is any upper limit. As I pointed out moments ago, electromagnetic fields can themselves be considered extremely low frequencies of magic.”
Hermione frowned thoughtfully; one thing was still bothering her.
“Why does magic still interfere with electricity then? I thought that energy had to be of similar wavelengths to cause interference,” she asked, “When Sirius and Remus installed a television and a stereo at Number Twelve, they had to magically enchant them so that they could operate with magic instead.”
Dumbledore considered the question briefly before responding.
“Now we are getting to the nub of it - the most plausible reason that your Patroni were able to actually destroy the Dementors when none have done so before.
“There was a wizard whose life spanned the turn of the century - skilled in both Alchemy and muggle engineering - who was snubbed by both the Wizarding world and the Muggle world for his ideas regarding the hierarchy of resonant frequencies, and the amplification and transmission of electricity and magic. His name was Nikola Tesla.”
“In his view, and in mine, resonant frequencies operating at ever higher and higher levels could produce powerful and unpredictable effects hitherto undiscovered by those working with lower orders of energy.
“Higher orders of magical energy operate far above lower orders like electricity, but as electricity is still a form of magical energy, those higher energies can be of such intensity that they nonetheless create havoc with the lower energies in regions where the generation of magic is highly concentrated....
“The Ministry requires heavy amounts of shielding to be able to operate under Whitehall without disrupting London’s electrical power grid for miles around.
“You yourselves, in your loving intimate encounters - and I cannot emphasise the importance of the word loving enough - in the Room of Requirement generated magic of such high frequency and power that it interfered with the magic of Hogwarts. However, the magic of Hogwarts - with each ‘system reboot’ as it were - was able to adapt to it and absorb it, bringing up the levels of order and strengthening the magic of the entire school...”
“Like the Sword of Gryffindor...” Hermione gasped.
“...Hogwarts imbibes what makes it stronger...” Harry continued, his eyes shining.
Hermione went on, as full gnosis began to flood her brain. “...and as the frequencies resonate at higher and higher rates, the mathematic level of the frequency and power must increase on some sort of logarithmic or exponential scale.”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore nodded at Hermione, “I myself, have only ever detected echoes of frequencies similar to those generated by yourselves in Europe at long dead ancient sites dedicated to witchcraft, and in a very few currently operational magical schools of witchcraft in the Orient where the power levels are very high.”
“I believe, Mrs Potter, that it is due to the very rare confluence of factors - the complete compatibility between the energy fields of Harry and yourself, the intensity and purity of your love for one another, your activities of a physical nature, your mutual spell practice, and that you both together cast your spells simultaneously, as One - that is why you were able to generate Patronuses of such high frequencies and intensity that they displayed hitherto unknown effects... and thus caused the destruction of the Dementors...”
The headmaster paused, and turned the deepest shade of red yet when he continued.
“And that is why I find myself in the very uncomfortable position - as an Instructor charged with your safety and education - of asking you both to remain at Hogwarts for the summer, and of encouraging you to continue engaging in your rather... erotic behaviours together in the Room of Requirement...”
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