There was a surprisingly loud bang which echoed down between the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library when Ronâs head struck the table in front of him in frustration. âThis is useless,â he groaned. âThere are hundreds of names here. What happens if there are none with the initials RAB, or what if there is more than one?â asked Ron, his voice muffled as he spoke into the table.
âWell, we wonât find out until we look through them, so stop whining,â snapped Hermione, not looking up from her page.
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. With a slight shake of his head, he re-focused on the pages in front of him. The lists were long, and it was strange to look at all those names, most with a birth date and a death date. Almost everyone who had perished had been barely middle-aged and it gave Harry goose bumps to see all those names down on paper. And these were just Voldemortâs men.
The late afternoon sun was shining though the clouds and reflecting off the window next to Harry, distracting him. As his eyes became glued to the mesmerising light dancing across the glass, his thoughts wandered to other, albeit related subjects.
He had yet to summon up the nerve to open the box Dumbledore had left him. He had spent the last two nights in bed with it on his lap. And yet, even after spending so long thinking about it, there was some part of him, perhaps the innocent, eleven-year-old part who had first seen Albus Dumbledoreâs face on a chocolate frog card, that didnât want to let go. Opening the last mystery, the last bit of knowledge his headmaster would give him, would bring the reality of Dumbledoreâs death back down to Earth.
Another problem still plaguing him was â“
âWhat are you doing?â
There was a sudden flurry of movement from Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they tried to cover up the many sheets of parchment that littered the desk. Unfortunately, one of these sheets slid off the table and landed right at the feet of a very surprised Ginny Weasley. She quickly bent down to snatch it up, and all three friends stiffened and watched her apprehensively.
Giving Harry a strange look, she sat down at the table with a sigh. âShould I ask, or am I just wasting my breath?â she said as she politely passed Hermione the sheet. âI know itâs none of my business, but if you want secrecy, the library, no matter what deep, dark corner of it you go to, is not a great place to hide.â
Harry sat down heavily opposite her and shared a glance with Ron, who shrugged, and Hermione, who blew a strand of hair out of her face with a huff and stacked all the parchment up in a neat pile. He looked uncomfortably at Ginny, who was watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.
Thoughts had been wandering through his brain all day. What if she ran a mile when she found out what he had to do? What if she didnât want anything to do with a walking time bomb like him? She wouldnât do that, heâd always berate himself. Sheâs not like that.
But to find out that it was his destiny; that it was all prophesised? Not to mention all that he had to do before he could even think about going after Voldemort? What person wouldnât be completely put off by that?
He jumped when he realised Ginny was waving a hand in front of his face and that he hadnât spoken for several moments.
âUh â“â
âWeâre going for a walk,â said Hermione suddenly, grabbing Ronâs arm and pulling him up from the table, much to his surprise.
âHey! What do you â“â Ron started, but Hermione was already striding toward the Libraryâs entrance. Harry suppressed a glare. He knew he shouldnât have mentioned telling Ginny about everything last night, but he had, and Hermione had insisted he tell her as soon as possible. This, in Hermioneâs eyes, seemed to be his chance.
Harry and Ginny sat in silence for some time. She tapped her fingers quietly on the worn desk, and he tried to think of a spell that would make the ground swallow him up.
âHarry â“â
âGinny â“â They both stopped and laughed quietly. âYou first,â said Harry.
She got up, walked around the table, and sat in the chair next to his. âTell me.â It was an order, not a request. Harry looked into her face as she weaved her fingers into his. Her eyes were burning with a determined fire. She was going to get answers and he knew it.
After several moments of silence, Harry looked around. âYouâre right; this isnât the best place for privacy.â He collected the papers and shrank them before placing them in his pocket and guiding Ginny out of the library.
Neither he nor Ginny said anything as they walked the halls. He led her up three sets of staircases until they were walking down the seventh floor corridor. At this point, he spared her a glance.
Ginny was still watching him, but he could read her better this time. Her face was a mixture of determination and stubbornness, and just for a moment, Harry thought he detected a flash of uneasiness in her eyes, but it was soon hidden as she raised her chin stubbornly. It was obvious now that she knew he had been keeping something from her and that he had important something to say. It seemed his time for putting it off had run out.
âHarry,â said Ginny, motioning towards the blank stretch of wall beside them.
He was jolted out of his musings and realised they had been standing in an empty corridor, with neither saying anything nor moving anywhere. He stepped forward and paced in front of the wall three times. I need somewhere we can talk in privateâŚ
A heavy oak door abruptly popped into existence and Harry pulled on the brass handle, letting Ginny enter before himself. He walked in after her and locked the door behind him.
The room was decorated very much like Gryffindor common room, with deep burgundy walls and a huge fireplace with a dancing fire. In front of it were two old and worn armchairs. Ginny took one of the seats and Harry sat opposite her, refusing to meet her eyes.
The silent minutes stretched between them. Here it was: crunch time. Harry still had little idea of what to say. Where should he start? How would it end? He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
âWhy donât you start at the beginning?â said Ginny, watching him closely. She was curled up in her chair with her feet underneath her. Ginny looped her hair behind her ears and gave her boyfriend her full attention.
Harry let out a long breath and began to tell the story of himself, which very few people knew. âYou know that my parents went into hiding before they were killed.â
Ginny nodded. âYes, Voldemort was after them, wasnât he?â
âWell⌠thatâs not technically true. He was after me, not my parents. It was me he wanted to kill, but they got in his way so they were killed too.â
âWhy?â she asked, her eyes wide.
âBecauseâŚâ Harry faltered. âDo you remember the night Sirius died and the Prophesy that had my name in it?â
âYes. It smashed, didnât it? No one heard it.â
Harry sighed. âThat wasnât the only copy of it. Dumbledore heard it when it was originally given by Trelawney, and he showed me later that night⌠It said I was the one who would end it. Iâm the âChosen Oneâ, or, in the words of the Prophesy, âthe one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.ââ Harry stared at the fire, a part of him not wanting to see how Ginny would react, yet fighting the urge to look at her because another part of him did.
âIâŚâ Ginny started, but words seemed to fail her. Harry kept his eyes stubbornly anywhere but on her. âLook at me, Harry,â she said. He saw her lean forward, but still watched the flames dance in the fireplace.
She sighed. âYou seem more afraid to tell me than you are of what you have to do.â
Harry looked at her so quickly his neck cracked. She smiled slightly at him, her brown eyes lookingâŚresigned. There was no shock, and Harryâs eyes widened at this revelation. He had expected her to be horrified, scared, but then he realised something. That was not like Ginny. Ginny was strong, accepting, and took him exactly how he was. She always had.
âI thoughtâŚâ he started, but stopped. He still had more to tell her. âI canât just go out and have a duel with him. I have to do more before he can be killedâŚâ
Harry told Ginny everything he could think of. About Tom Riddle, about his lessons with Dumbledore, about Horcruxes, and finally about the research theyâd been doing so far this year. He still left out a few specific details he knew would upset her, even though he knew she wouldnât be happy when she found out.
ââŚso we looked for information in the library at Grimmauld Place about the Hogwarts founders, but came up with nothing. Remus is still looking for us and says heâll keep his ears open, but seeing as Iâve not heard from him, Iâm presuming heâs had little success.â
Somewhere in the middle of Harryâs confessions, Ginny had apparently gotten tired of sitting alone and had wiggled her way onto his lap. âWhat were you all looking through in the Library?â she asked. So far she had listened to all he had said without much interruption, only the occasional question.
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out the lists. âThese. Itâs all the Death Eaters ever known by the ministry. I think most of them are dead, and very few are in Azkaban.â
Ginny took the parchments from him and scanned them, her jaw dropping. âBut⌠there are so many dead⌠what about the Death Eaters of today?â
Harry let out a short laugh. âI think Voldemortâs recruiting and the ministry doesnât know whoâs joining his side. Anyway, weâre looking for Death Eaters that are probably dead, anyway.â
âHow did you get these? Arenât they from the ministry?â
âI have Tonks to thank for that. I really hope she didnât get into trouble for it; she kind of didnât ask permission, if you get what I meanâŚâ
Ginny giggled. âYou know, Tonks can occasionally be discreet, when sheâs at work.â
After a moment of silence, Ginny sighed and put the pages on the floor, before wrapping her arms around Harry and burying her face in his neck. âDo you want to tell me about the Horcruxes that have been destroyed already?â
Harry stiffened. Here was the part he had kept quiet about. He had hoped she wouldnât ask about it. It brought up subjects he knew she wouldnât want to remember, but now she had asked; he had to tell her.
âWell⌠Dumbledore destroyed the ring, andâŚand I destroyed one.â
Ginny leaned back and looked at him. âWhat was it, Harry?â she asked quietly. Harry closed his eyes to the look in hers. She knows. Sheâs worked it outâŚ
âThe diary,â he said. âIt was Tom Riddleâs diary.â He opened his eyes and saw that she had gone very still and slightly pale. âGinny?â
She shook her head. âIâm fine. Itâs just⌠It was actually Him, not just a memory, but Voldemort. And he was inside me.â Harry felt her shiver. Goosebumps had erupted over her arms. She let out a breath sheâd been holding in. âThank you, Harry. I donât think I ever did thank you properly. It seems you did more than save me that dayâŚbut thank you anyway. If it werenât for youâŚâ she shuddered. âI wouldnât be here to discuss it.â
âDonât worry about it. I did what anyone would do â“â
âNo,â she said vehemently. âNot everyone would have done that. I was just your best friendâs annoying little sister, yet you almost got killed saving me. Not everyone has that bravery in them.â
Harry felt his cheeks going warm and she laughed good-naturedly. âAnd no one could possibly be as modest as you. Harry, you have no idea just how brave andâŚhow heroicâ“â
âGinnyâŚâ started Harry, shifting uncomfortably from her words.
â- No, you are heroic, Harry.â She put a hand on his cheek. âI know itâs embarrassing for you, but Iâll say it anyway. Youâve faced Voldemort and his Death Eaters how many times? Youâd do anything as long as you knew that everyone you care about, and even good people you donât know get out alive.â
She suddenly smiled widely.
âWhat?â Harry asked, torn between being amused at her sudden mood change and alarmed by that gleam in her eye.
âI think you need a proper thank you,â she smirked, leaning towards him until her face was inches from his.
âYeah?â he laughed. âAnd what do you have in mmnf -â
âI try to avoid disappointing people as much as possible, and I always live up to a promise. Today class, as promised, we are starting the topic of duelling!â Excited exclamations at once erupted round the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, making Professor Crellin smile to herself, remembering her own school days, when her classâ reaction had been very much the same.
Just over a week had gone by since Harry had told all to Ginny, yet he had very little time to discuss it with her, or even get any more research done. N.E.W.T.s were not named that for no reason, and Harry was already feeling rather nastily exhausted. And it was only his second week of seventh year.
Harry now found himself on this dull, damp, Friday afternoon, sitting next to a much excited Ron, though he himself was rather looking forward to this lesson as well. Hermione was flipping through her DADA textbook, probably skipping to the section about duelling, which she had no doubt already read several times over.
He looked around the classroom to see Neville, looking slightly anxious, next to a very over-excited Seamus, who was all but bouncing out of his seat in his eagerness to prove his awe-inspiring skills in combat. Dean was sitting on Seamusâ other side, shaking his head at his Irish friend.
Blaise Zabini was sitting at the back of the class with his usual âGreater-Than-Thouâ expression, surrounded by his Slytherin friends, a few of whom seemed to be trying very hard not to show their enthusiasm about this lesson.
Asher let the classâ excited murmurings go on for a few moments, before getting their attention once again. âIf we are going to do this we need some space, so can you all please stand? Thank you.â With a wave of her wand, all the chairs, tables, and the classâ belongings slid across the floor and lined up next to the walls, leaving a large empty space in the centre of the classroom.
She removed her over robe, throwing it onto her desk haphazardly, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. âLovely. Now,â started Asher, walking to the middle of the room, where the class surrounded her. âThere are three main types of duelling. Can anyone tell me the first?â
Hermioneâs hand, to no oneâs surprise, shot straight in the air. âYes, Hermione?â said Asher.
âFormal Duelling,â she said promptly.
âVery good, Hermione. Could you tell the class the reasons for Formal Duelling, perhaps?â
Hermione nodded with a smile. âFormal Duelling was generally practiced hundreds of years ago, mostly between wizard families. They were usually just to prove the strength and ability of each new generation. It was tradition for each male of the family, when they turned seventeen, to duel another adult male from another wizarding family. They were much planned affairs, and were mostly organised so different families could meet and compare the strength of their offspring and the grandeur of each otherâs homes, which was where most Formal Duels took place.â
Asher grinned. âVery good, Hermione, I see youâve been doing your homework.â Ron rolled his eyes. âTen points to Gryffindor. Can anyone name another type of duelling?â
Much to Harryâs surprise, Blaise Zabiniâs raised his hand , and Asher seemed pleasantly surprised as well. âYes, Mr Zabini?â
âCompetitive Duelling,â he said as if the answer was obvious.
âExcellent. What can you tell us about Competitive Duelling?â
âCompetitive Duelling is competitions. Theyâre planned, and you have to use a wide variety of curses and hexes, as well as not getting hit yourself, to win.â Blaise crossed his arms over his chest, signalling that he had said all he was going to say for a while.
âThat is correct. Ten points to Slytherin.â Though she hid it well, Harry could tell Asher was as surprised as he was at this change of attitude from Zabini. âNow, the final type of Duelling, and the one we will be concentrating on, is called Combat Duelling. This type is very different from the other two. Where the other types are planned in advance, the central theme of Combat Duelling is the fact that they are unprompted. You donât know youâre in a combat duel until youâre in one. Also, where Formal and Competitive duels are often just a volley of curses and hexes from one person to the other, and are more about showing off all the impressive spells you know, a combat duel is about getting rid of your opponent as quickly as you can using all the resources you have on hand.â
She grinned around the class. âSo, who wants to go first?â Her pupils stared back at her with wide eyes, and most tried to discretely take a step backwards. She stifled a laugh at the reaction of the teenagers, and her eyes soon fell upon Harry. Her smile widened.
âHarry! How thoughtful of you to volunteer!â She hastily grabbed his arm and dragged him to the centre next to her, despite his protests. She asked the class to step back as far as they could and waved her wand, creating a shield around her and Harry that would keep any stray curses away from the class.
âOkay, Harry. The rules are simple. You are armed with all you have inside this shield, though I suggest we stick with hexes and curses that can be mended without an extended stay with Madam Pomfrey. Do you agree?â Harry nodded dumbly, trying to adjust to the fact that Asher had just volunteered him to try and hex her. âOkay. You ready? Donât worry, Iâll go easy on you.â She winked as the class watched on in high interest. Harry shook himself, before squaring his jaw and nodding for her to start.
âThreeâŚTwoâŚâ before she finished her countdown, Asher had thrown a non-verbal stunner at Harry, which he barely deflected.
âHey!â he exclaimed, throwing a full body bind her way. She laughed teasingly, which only got Harry more riled.
âAs I said, Combat Duelling â“â She stepped neatly out of the way of another of Harryâs spells. âIs supposed to be unexpected. Constant Vigilance, as good old Mad-Eye would say!â
Harry snorted, which turned out to be a mistake because he lost his concentration for a moment and didnât quite move out of the way of a bight yellow spell. He hissed and gritted his teeth as the stinging hex caught his left elbow, deciding he was going to have to put everything he had into this fight if he wanted to get out of it walking straight.
âStupefy!â he shouted, nearly falling flat as he skidded out of the way of Asherâs curses, which were coming at him in unbelievably quick succession. She laughed at him, which grated his nerves. While this made his spells come quicker, his aim was heavily impaired by his hastiness.
âCome on, Harry, you can do better than that! Whatâs my plan? Whatâs helping me?â she asked teasingly, jumping out of the way of as many curses as she was sending. The classâ attention became glued to the duel as it seemed to jump up a gear due to Harryâs irritation. Their professor was by far the better dueller, but Harry was not doing badly by any means. He had only been hit two or three times by minor curses, and the duel still went on. Though Harry hadnât noticed the switch, he had stopped saying his spells out loud and was now casting them all soundlessly.
Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance. She had changed her tactic now. She was circling him, light and graceful on her feet, and he was finding it increasingly hard to get a straight aim at her.
âRemember what I said, Harry,â she chimed, lightly stepping around him once again, not even bothering with a shield and simply moving away from his curses. âUse all you are armed with. All you have inside this shield.â
âAll I have is my wand!â Harry shouted in frustration. Droplets of sweat were forming on his brow, and he had lost count of how long they had been duelling. He was sure she could have taken him out by now, but had for some reason refrained from doing so.
âOh really?â Suddenly, she stopped moving, raising her wand high. This was his chance and he took it, quickly sending a tripping hex her way. He was shocked when it hit right on the mark. Asher fell over her own feet, landing flat on her back on the cold stone floor. He hastily moved forward, stupidly thinking the duel was over as his classmates cheered. But when he looked at his professor, he was confused. Why was she smirking like that?
Just as he walked within arms length, Asher swung her legs around, hitting him full force in the back of the knees. Harry fell to the floor, hastily jerking his arms out to stop his fall, but they were quickly wrenched to his sides, and his legs were seemingly glued together as a full body bind did its job. Harry crashed to the floor.
If Harry could have groaned at his stupidity, he would have. As it was, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to get his breath back and blushing slightly as his class cheered for Asher. A moment later, his professor blocked his view of the rafters with a wide grin.
âFinite Incantartem.â Harryâs body loosened, and he took her offered hand and stood.
âThat was excellent, Harry. I havenât ever had competition like that from a student,â she said with a smirk.
âYou duel students often?â Harry laughed.
Asher chuckled and winked. âYou havenât had detention yet, have you, Harry? Anyway, that was fantastic. The further on into the duel you got, the more you concentrated and improved greatly. Can anyone tell me what they learned from watching that?â
Someone laughed nervously. âDonât get detention with your defence teacher.â The class sniggered.
âAnything apart from that?â asked a chuckling Asher, turning to look at all her students. âThink about what I said. Harry could use all he had in the shield. Think about how I got Harry disarmed.â
âNot to use your wand all the time?â Harry guessed. He had surreptitiously moved back beside Ron and Hermione and away from the limelight around Asher.
âTo a certain degree youâre right. The trick is to use all you have. This includes things randomly lying on the floor, which you could use as a distraction or even as a weapon, and yourself. A well-placed kick could save your life.â She said this in such a way that it was clear she had great experience in giving out well-placed kicks. âIs there anything else that could help you along the way?â The class remained silent.
âOK. Tips for Combat Duelling: Donât get distracted, but keep your mind open to the outside as well. Notice how Harry got distracted by a close spell, leaving a fraction of a second where he was completely defenceless? â“ No offence, Harry. You canât get distracted by near misses, not even minor spells which hit dead on, even if it does sting a bit. A Death Eater isnât going to allow you a time out, for goodness sake.â She was getting worked up, and Harry could tell she was either very passionate about duelling itself, or about her students being able to duel properly. Probably the latter, he thought, with a fair bit of the former thrown in.
âYou must keep focus on the person or persons youâre duelling, but you must also keep your mind open for sneak attacks from behind or the like. You canât be goaded. Your opposition could say things from your worst nightmares. They could insult you. They could tell you disgusting lies. They could tell you disgusting truths. Donât rise to them. Donât lose your temper or do things you will regret later, no matter who they are. Furthermore, try to pick up on spell patterns theyâre using and tactics they exploit. When I was moving around Harry, he used the tripping hex very often, so I knew that was the first thing he would try when I stopped moving. But Harry didnât know that the tripping hex would give me an advantage. What advantage was that?â
Hermione raised her hand. âYour ability to use your body as well as your wand, even when youâre on the floor.â
âCorrect. The opposition may presume theyâve won because youâre on the floor, therefore letting their guard down. Okay, lastly you must practice performing all your spells, at least your basic charms â“ stunners, body binds, tripping hexes, stinging hexes, silencing charms, summoning charms, banishing charms, et cetera, et cetera â“ without saying the incantations out loud, which, funnily enough, is your homework!â
As Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry sat at dinner that night, Harry tried his best to be inconspicuous, but he felt the stares of half the student body. He was used to stares; it came with the territory when you were The-Boy-Who-Lived. But tonight was particularly bad. News that Harry Potter had duelled a professor had spread around Hogwarts like wildfire. People seemed to be rather ignorant of the fact that the duel had taken place in a classroom, and was a practical Professor Crellin had organised to show how Combat Duelling was used to its full advantage.
âHarry,â said Hermione quite abruptly. He looked up from his meal with a fork full of mashed potato halfway to his mouth.
âYeah?â
âHave you thought about the DA yet?â She gave him a look that clearly said he should have been thinking about it. He had, but mainly to avoid thinking about anything else. That, when he thought about it, wasnât a good thing, but it was better than ignoring all of his responsibilities. âYes, I have, Hermione,â he replied and speared his mash into his mouth.
Hermione stared at him, as did Ron and Ginny. Moments passed and Harry didnât say anything.
âWell?â snapped Ginny, seemingly unable to wait any longer for a response.
Harry set his fork down and leaned back, his brow knit, wondering whether this was the right decision.
He grinned. âI think itâs a good idea. Dumbledoreâs Army is going to rise again.â
*
At Hermioneâs insistence, Harry went straight to the Headmistressâ office after dinner to tell her of his decision about the DA. They discussed it for some time, and by the time Harry left it was half an hour until curfew.
They had decided that the classes would be held on Wednesday evenings in a spare classroom. They would start in two weeks, giving people time to sign up on forms left in each common room, though Harry very much doubted anyone from Slytherin would want to join.
McGonagall suggested he talk to Professor Crellin so she could help him come up with a lesson plan. Deciding there was no time like the present, Harry turned in the direction of the DADA classroom. But when he reached it, his knock got no reply. Figuring she was in her office, Harry tried the handle. It turned with a satisfying click and swung open.
Harry strode across the stone floor and saw a light coming from the office door, which was open a little. When he reached it, Harry raised his knuckles to knock, only to hear Asherâs voice float to his ears.
ââ“ Iâm doing okay. Marking homeworkâs a chore though. I swear, I donât know how Minerva copes with the amount she sets.â
Harry leant forward slightly as he heard a distinctly masculine chuckle, though it seemed oddly distant. The male voice continued, âYouâll get used to it. Tell me about this excellent duel with Harry you were so excited about before. Tonks is interested in hearing about it as well, by the way.â Tonks? Harry thought. Who was that man? The voice seemed familiar⌠who did it belong to?
âHe was fantastic, Remus.â Remus? Whatâs he doing here? âThe best untrained dueller Iâve seen; great reflexes and a lot of magical potential. This boy â“ sorry, man â“ has power. Iâm not exaggerating when I say he could give half the ministryâs Aurors a run for their money, and heâs not even fully trained.â
Harry ignored his burning cheeks and pushed the door open a bit more to peak inside the office. Even though he was curious to continue listening to the conversation, he felt extremely rude to be listening to his friendâs â“ not to mention his professorâs â“ conversation.
When Harry could see into the office, it seemed there was no second person in the room at all, only Asher in a squishy chair, a stack of parchment in her lap and bare feet on her desk. She seemed to be talking into a picture frame, much to his bemusement. Harry had missed what Remus had said in reply, but Asher continued, âI think I need to â“ AHH!â
Asher had spotted him. The frame she had been talking into went flying and landed on the floor, smashing into many pieces. She had her wand drawn, and for a moment Harry was sure she was going to hex him.
After a secondâs pause, she seemed to realise who it was and let out a long breath, dropping her wand to her side. âMerlin, Harry. Donât do that to me. Come in.â
Asher sighed loudly as she knelt down to pick up the pieces of glass on the floor, but when Harry looked properly, he realised it wasnât glass that had smashed. In fact, it wasnât a picture frame at all. It was a mirror.
Harry stared as she picked up the fragments. The mirror brought pictures of Sirius and Harryâs own broken mirror to his mind.
âHarry? Are you feeling okay?â questioned Asher as she deposited the broken mirror on her desk. Her eyes widened. âDid youâŚâ
âYes,â said Harry, his voice oddly strangled. âHow did you â“â
âItâs a charm,â said Asher.
Harry nodded. âI know. SiriusâŚâ he trailed off and Asherâs face fell slightly.
âWhat about him?â she asked. âSirius gave you a mirror like this? That you could contact him with?â Harry nodded, not looking at her. There was silence. âSit down, Harry.â
Harry looked up, startled. He had been lost in a world of his own for a moment. He complied and Asher did the same, summoning the unmarked essays she had dropped.
âDo you still have your mirror?â she asked. âI could hook it up to mine.â
âBut itâs broken!â Harry suddenly burst out, not sure why he had almost shouted, or which mirror he was talking about.
âIt can easily be fixed. Itâs a simple enough charm. James and Sirius⌠James and Sirius had been doing it since they were in their fourth year. Used to use them in â“â
âDetention,â finished Harry.
Her eyes went wide. âYes. Sirius told you that?â
Harry nodded. âYeah.â He fiddled with a loose thread on the deep purple armchair he was sitting in. He took this opportunity to look around the room. It was very different from what it had been like with any of its previous owners. There were many posters of duelling tactics and the like, as well as a few of Muggle and magical music groups and performers. A distinctly purple Weird Sisters poster caught his eye.
There were a few pictures on the walls also, as well as a bookshelf which housed mostly defence books. Her music box was, unsurprisingly, sitting on her desk.
Harry shook himself back to the conversation and asked, âHow do you know about them? Why do you have one?â
âI know about them because we â“ that is your parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Leanna, and I â“ used them during the last year or so of the first war. We used them so we could get in touch with each other easily. It was your dadâs idea. He and Sirius, as you know, used them in school.â
âSo you know the charm to connect them?â asked Harry.
âI do.â
âAnd they will work again, even if you break your mirror.â
âOnce you repair it, yes. Do you want me to repair yours?â she asked softly.
Harry watched her for a moment. âYes, please,â he said quietly.
Asher never asked any questions about how the mirror got smashed, but suggested that he come to her office tomorrow with the mirror so she could fix it. She also said sheâd talk to him about the DA, which she very much approved of, tomorrow as well.
When Harry went up to bed that night, he once again removed Dumbledoreâs box from his trunk. He closed his curtains around him, deciding it was time to finally let go of Albus Dumbledore. This was the last thing Harry would ever receive from him and putting it off did no good; it only helped him deny the truth he needed to face.
Harry placed the small key in the lock, turned it, and with slightly shaky fingers opened the lid.