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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JK Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter XXIX

Harry summoned Dobby and sent him to the castle and then to the Ministry with notes of explanation (one to the Headmaster, one to the aurors, and one to the Coven), co-signed by Draco and Cho.

Pansy's body was left alone in the compartment. Draco and Margot went out of the carriage, pushed by Cho and Su respectively. They dumped the pair in the first empty compartment, two carriages down.

"I can't believe Scarhead had the balls to execute someone like that," Draco managed to say after a few minutes.

"Potter? He killed Professor Snape, and I gather whoever was the Defense teacher your First year. He executed our fathers, not to mention those others." Margot shook her head. "No, I'm not surprised he could execute someone. I'm surprised that Loony could."

"You may be right," Draco admitted.

"You do know that it could be us next?" Margot said.

"What!" that thought had never crossed Draco's mind.

"If Potter decided that we were still enemies, I mean. Marked or not."

Draco swallowed nervously at that idea.

"I shouldn't have come back," Margot almost sobbed. "I should have transferred to Beauxbatons, or just done the O.W.L.s by private tutor." She looked at Draco. "We're going to have to be very cautious the next two years."

The idea was foreign to Draco Malfoy. However, the vision of his being sliced in two by Potter, or having Granger cut off his air supply, like Lovegood had just done to Pansy. . . . Draco shuddered.

'Maybe she's right', Draco thought.


While there was of course an inquiry, and the Parkinsons made what threats they could, what Harry and Draco had done was legal. As the Death Eaters who had recruited Pansy had been killed by Voldemort and there were no surviving witnesses to Pansy's recruitment, nothing further was done to the Parkinsons directly, although there was an investigation into their finances. Madam Bones would eventually issue Harry an official reprimand for executing Pansy aboard the train with young students near by when she was not a present danger, and fined him one Galleon and a Sickle.

The Parkinsons were fined ten times the amount they had supplied Voldemort (a total of 102,000 Galleons) and five times the amount they had contributed to help Lucius Malfoy bribe Ministry officials (81,000 Galleons), which took out all the family's liquid assets and half of their investments, although it did leave them their family estate.


Between Pansy's execution and Tracey and Daphne's tight hold on the reins, the neutral Slytherins decided during the welcome feast that they were keeping their heads down this year. Those few students in all the Houses -- like Draco and Margot -- who had not really renounced the Pure-blood agenda or violence -- knew they not only had to keep their heads down but their mouths shut very tight.

The students pledged to Harry accepted Pansy's execution -- she had taken the Dark Mark. Most of the neutral older students accepted this as well. The younger students were split between those who accepted Pansy's execution and those who were frightened by her death so close to them on the train.

Dumbledore was even more aghast than the students or the Ministry officials. Of course, he could not deny that Harry had given plenty of warning about his intentions.

After the welcoming feast was over, Dumbledore sat at his desk, face in his hands. He was alone with the portraits and the Sorting Hat, for Fawkes was no where to be seen.

Finally, the painting of Phineas Nigellus said, "We all tried to warn you. We all disagreed with your course of action these last sixteen years or so. I grant you, we often disagreed among ourselves why you were wrong and on what course you might better take, but we all agreed you were wrong in your treatment of the Potters, and young Harry. And I told you that as flawed as Sirius is, he would never betray James Potter, that Pettigrew was much more likely to have done so."

An eighteenth century headmistress chimed in, "We warned you and your predecessor that Tom Riddle was a flawed and evil little boy. That no good had ever come out of the Gaunt family. . . ."

"You cannot condemn a boy for his ancestry," Dumbledore mumbled. He looked up. "Yes, we could have rejected Riddle. Just think what trouble he might have caused had he remained untrained, with his magic surging wildly. I could have been harsher with the radical Pure-bloods, and forced them out of Hogwarts. Imagine Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, and their ilk trained at Durmstrang. I am very conscious of my many errors of judgement. Nearly as many have suffered because of those judgements as have been helped, and perhaps few have been injured as severely as Harry. Still, to kill, to execute, a student on the Hogwarts Express when she was not directly threatening anyone. . . ."

"So, he should have waited and executed her when?" a thirteenth century headmaster demanded. "As a treat at the feast, as we would have? After she had passed on some information? When she had murdered a student? She had taken the Mark, which means she must have murdered, for that is part of the ritual."

"I sometimes think you are as much a Purest in your way as Lucius Malfoy was," Nigellus sneered. "Why else protect these little Purists? One would think you were a Slytherin instead of a Gryffindor."

"There is much wrong with our society, as there is in every society," Dumbledore retorted stiffly. "I have obviously been in error, and some of my judgements have been proven mistaken, at least as they were applied."

"You think so, eh?" the Hat asked snidely.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you still have not admitted to yourself exactly how mistaken you have been," the Hat retorted. "In this century, I have seen the attitudes of the Muggle-born and raised become more independent, and the would-be Purists go from defending their traditions to becoming thugs. I have been forced to concentrate them more and more into Slytherin, because they are not raised to be independent-minded or thoughtful or loyal to anything but their thuggery."

"And what has that to do with me?" Dumbledore demanded. "I am not so powerful as to cure society!"

"Almost a fifth of the magical children in Britain and Ireland come through Hogwarts," the Hat stated. "Hogwarts helps to mold them. And who did you put in charge of Slytherin for some fifteen years?"

"Severus. . . ."

"Even if Severus Snape had been as loyal to you as you believed, which he was not, he still spent his time reenforcing the negative prejudices of his House," the Hat stated firmly. "Every student he has favored either took the Mark or would have eagerly have followed Tom Riddle if given the chance before last September. He dismissed Greengrass, Davis, and Zabini, the trio who now control the House for young Potter, as lightweights and not worth his time."

Dumbledore said nothing.

"You suspected Tom Riddle in the death of young Myrtle," the Hat persisted. "You dismissed those ideas, concentrating on Grindelwald while a greater evil was born before your very eyes. You console your self with the thought that you helped Hagrid find a position, when if you had acted correctly, he never would have been convicted in the first place."

Dumbledore started to speak, but the Hat cut him off. "Your ego has been the size of Tom Riddle's since you became second-in-command of the forces fighting Grindelwald."

"There was no prophecy that said you had to deal with Grindelwald," the Elizabethan headmistress broke in. "You were part of a large, international team effort. If you had not cast the spell that sent Grindelwald into the void, there were others who could have, who would have, either alone or as part of the team."

"But they hadn't," Dumbledore retorted.

"They hadn't," Headmaster Dippet agreed. "Your leader and his strike team had failed, but destroyed most of the protections around that madman. You came in and finished the job. How many other teams were ready to strike? Sixteen?"

Dumbledore had no answer to that.

"You gave Tom Riddle no guidance, and he turned into the greatest monster magical Britain has ever produced," Nigellus concluded. "You gave Potter no more, although you did try and manipulate him into being your attack dog. And now he is so powerful none may predict what his impact will have."

Dippet looked scornfully at Dumbledore. "What have you wrought, Albus?"

Dumbledore decided to go to bed, even if sleep was unlikely.



Sunday, September 8, 1996

"Good morning," Harry stated.

"Good morning," the DA responded. The group consisted of Harry's sworn Fifth through Seventh year sworn supporters and a few others. Those who had left the year before would attend periodically, but today they were all present, as were Sirius and Remus.

To the disappointment of many, Harry had refused to allow any more students to swear allegiance to him over the summer after Colin, and had again refused over the previous week. He had agreed to allow some of the Fourth years to join the DA, but not to swear, the next year, to help them prepare for their O.W.L.s.

At that point, Hermione stepped forward and told the group all that she could about what Voldemort had done that summer, and then outlined the plan for training that term. Then Harry took control back.

"As you heard, we think Voldie might be down to just himself. Even if we were right about that in August, remember, he does seem to have the knack of charming people into following him, and a tendency to force people to as well," Harry warned. "Should he gain some followers, he might attack Hogwarts. That's what we are training you still here to do -- to defend Hogwarts and the younger students. Now, Tracey, Susan, and Padma are passing out lists. For those of you still here, you will see you are assigned to three different training groups. Hermione has devised three different response scenarios you will be trained for -- a different group taking the lead -- right down to where you are to respond to. Two for Hogwarts, offensive and defensive, and one for Hogsmeade, should we be attacked there. We'll practice in our offensive groups for an hour, and then have lunch. After lunch, the offensive flying squad will meet at the Quidditch pitch."

Harry looked around. "Any problems or questions? No? Then let's see how your Patronus charms are doing. Let's see if you picked up any really good memories this summer." That got some mild laughter. "Break into your groups, and then form a line facing that wall."

As the people were milling about, Luna came over to Harry, holding her stomach. "I feel . . . sick." Seeing the mixed feelings on Harry's face, she said, "Harry, I'm ill, not pregnant."

"Right." Harry called Cho over, and sent the pair to the Infirmary, since Cho already could do the Patronus.

Cho rolled her eyes and led Luna out. She was about to make a smart remark when she saw that Luna was starting to sweat heavily, and she realized that something could really be wrong.

They were less than a third of the way to the Infirmary when they ran into Professor Trelawney, who was leading a reluctant Headmaster by the arm. At that moment, Luna fell to her knees and her eyes rolled back.

"The end is coming soon," Luna chanted.
"The Dark One has made an error,
/But if the Marked One does not employ his Powers,/
The Dark One will sleep for a thousand years.
/When he awakes, Darkness shall descend upon the Earth./
The end is coming soon." And with that, Luna passed out.


"I said that?" Luna asked during lunch. She was sitting up in bed in the Infirmary. Her lovers, Cho, Su, Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus were there as well.

"You did," Dumbledore confirmed. "As is required, I have made a copy of it and will send it on to the Hall of Prophecy." He held up the globe. Harry saw it read:
L.L.P. to C.C.
/Harry Potter?/

"A little more disingenuous this time," Harry commented.

Dumbledore nodded. "I do not believe you mind being referred to by your status as consort," he said to Luna, who shook her head. "And as Tom's course seems predetermined, there is no reason to give him the idea of invading the Department yet again." He shrugged. "As to what it means. . . ."

"It means that Voldemort has likely mistaken quartz for diamonds," Hermione said. "He's going to perform some Dark ceremony, and it will backfire, placing him in a thousand year magical coma. . . ."

"I won't kiss THAT Sleeping Beauty," Harry grumbled, but was well-ignored.

"Harry must locate him, or at least narrow down the location, through the link, just as he did this summer. Then he must destroy Voldemort. If he doesn't, we'll likely spend the rest of our lives looking for him and failing. And failure will mean he's likely to win when he comes to."

"It would be better if Harry could use his power to find Voldemort through the link even before then," Remus pointed out.

"Maybe. If not, perhaps you could put your memory of anything that happens in a Penseive, and relive it, narrowing down the search," Su suggested. She blushed as the others liked that idea.

"That's possible?" Harry asked.

"It is not possible with someone else's memories," Dumbledore said. "It is with your own."

"I wonder how much time we have," Sirius mused.

"That depends on the type of ceremony," Luna answered. "For some, the moment of the equinox would be best. For others, just after complete darkness falls locally on Halloween, which marks the start of the Season of Darkness and the first of seven nights when the veil between the world and the next life is weakest. Finally, just before local dawn the day of the winter solstice, when Darkness is at its height."

"It might depend on the ceremony," Harry mused, "but all other things being equal, I'd guess Halloween."

"We should be prepared for anything, including the equinox on the Twenty-second," Dumbledore stated.


"So," Harry asked when he, Sirius, and Remus met with Dumbledore that afternoon, "what's the plan?"

"I know of no one in Europe who can teach you how to trace the link in any active way," Dumbledore admitted. "It is not part of modern European magic."

"Whose magic is it part of?" Sirius demanded.

"Primarily Buddhist and native Australian, and Hindu to a slightly lesser degree," Dumbledore said.

"Chang and Li," Remus said, "not to mention the Patils."

"In that case, I'm sure all three are already writing," Harry said. "We'll just have to see who gets a usable response first."



The answer arrived the next Saturday morning. The contacts of all three families had actually recommended the same person, as time for lessons could be short.

To describe Leo Korsakov as 'mixed' would be a huge understatement. Five of his sixteen great-great grandparents had been magical, eight had been Squibs, and three had been Muggles. Each had been from a different ethnic group, and fifteen had all shown up in Hawai'i between the 1870s and the 1900s to join the sixteenth -- the sixteen were Russian, Irish, Scots, Native Hawaiian, English, Welsh, Spanish, Portugese, French, Tahitian, Italian, Filipino, Chinese, Indian (Bengali), Japanese, Korean.

He had studied magic in California, and both magic and Buddhism as well as martial arts in Japan and Korea. Of average height and a lean build, he moved lithely and totally silently. He spent four hours evaluating Harry in private, and then an hour dueling him. In the end, he merely said, "We can work together."

With that, Harry got permission to drop Care. Hagrid was disappointed, but understood why Harry had to drop one class. Korsakov would work with Harry on his astral projection and other related mental arts as well as his martial arts. He also agreed to tutor those members of the DA who were interested.

Harry also tried to quit Quidditch. Upon learning how much flying meant to Harry, however, Korsakov merely had him cut back on his participation in practices. Since Ron had been named Captain (Katie wanted to concentrate on her N.E.W.T.s and Harry knew he would not have the time), Harry could spare the time.

Harry's consorts had picked up basic Tai Chi from Harry and Padma. Su had started tutoring them before breakfast, and already had fifteen other girls working out with them as well. Korsakov would build on that with Harry's consorts and a few others for a more active response.

Before the equinox arrived, and despite the added training, Harry and his consorts gathered together after dinner on the nineteenth to celebrate Hermione's seventeenth birthday.

Hermione had been allowed to pick the scenario, and all had eagerly agreed to it. After Hermione had been carefully bathed, she merely spread her legs and bent over, taking Harry in her mouth. Luna was underneath her, licking away at her clit, while Padma and Susan suckled and stimulated her breasts. Tracey, meanwhile, had one and then two fingers up Hermione's bum, and she managed to get a few licks in on Hermione's labia and at the sensitive skin between her labia and anus.

It was not a terribly comfortable experience, but it was very pleasurable for Hermione (and Harry).



The day of the equinox passed by without so much as a twitch of Harry's scar. However, Voldemort was actually very busy. The ritual chamber was now filled with patterns and incantations chalked and painted (and sometimes painted in blood). The key points had been reenforced by the quartz dust.

For six hours on either side of the actual solstice, Voldemort was adding patterns and formula to the ceiling of the chamber. Setting up this ritual was stretching his knowledge of magic and power, and it would be, in fact, the most complicated ritual performed by and for just an individual in centuries.

As each step was completed, on time and with nearly inhuman precision, Voldemort's staggering confidence went up yet another notch. Already confident that he could do anything, and that he would succeed, he was starting to believe himself invincible.

He was also becoming to believe that when the ritual was over, he would no longer be the greatest sorcerer of all time.

Voldemort would be a god.