* * *

            DUMBLEDORE STOOD UP. he stared down at barty crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around barty crouch, binding him tightly. he turned to professor mcgonagall.

            "minerva, could i ask you to stand guard here while i take harry and elara upstairs?"

            "of course," said professor mcgonagall. she looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. however, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at barty crouch, her hand was quite steady.

            "severus" — dumbledore turned to snape — "please tell madam pomfrey to come down here; we need to get alastor moody into the hospital wing. then go down into the grounds, find cornelius fudge, and bring him up to this office. he will undoubtedly want to question crouch himself. tell him i will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

            snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

            "harry, elara?" dumbledore said gently.

            harry got up and swayed again; he was shaking. elara gripped his arm and helped him out into the dark corridor.

            "i want you to come up to my office first, you two," he said quietly as they headed up the passageway. "sirius and nymphandora are waiting for us there."

            they nodded. the adrenaline was still pumping in elara's veins. she could still feel the power surges washing over her. forces pushed inside her palms, begging to be let out.

            "professor," harry mumbled, "where are mr. and mrs. diggory?"

            "they are with professor sprout," said dumbledore. his voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of barty crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. "she was head of cedric's house, and knew him best."

            they had reached the stone gargoyle. dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he, harry, and elara went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. dumbledore pushed it open. sirius and nymphie were standing there. their faces white. in one swift moment, they had crossed the room.

            nymphie wrapped elara in an incredibly tight hug. for the first time that night, elara felt like breaking down and crying until she couldn't

            "harry, elara, are you all right? i knew it — i knew something like this — what happened?" sirius was saying.

            nymphie let go of elara. she helped her into the chair next to harry.

            "what happened?" nymphie asked urgently.

            dumbledore began to tell sirius and nymphie everything barty crouch had said. elara was only half listening. she was so tired that every bone in her body was aching. she peered over at harry, who looked the same. she laced her fingers through his, and began rubbing her thumb on his wrist in circles in a soothing manner.

             there was a soft rush of wings. fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on elara's knee.

            "'lo, fawkes," said harry quietly. he reached over to stroke the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. there was something comforting to elara about his warm weight.

            dumbledore stopped talking. he sat down opposite harry, behind his desk. he was looking at harry, who avoided his eyes. dumbledore was going to question him. he was going to make harry relive everything.

            "i need to know what happened after you touched the portkey in the maze, harry," said dumbledore.

            "its okay. i uh -- i actually can tell you," said elara nervously.

            "what?" said harry, nymphie, sirius, and dumbledore at the same time.

            "i was talking with hermione, and i got a really sharp pain in my head. i heard... i heard this call. it sounded like a siren. and then my vision went all blurry. i kept blinking, and then when i opened my eyes, i was with cedric in harry in a graveyard," elara drew in a shuddering breath as everything that had happened came back like one huge tidal wave.

            "we can leave this till morning, can't we, dumbledore?" said nymphie harshly. she had put a hand on elara's shoulder. "let them have a sleep. let them rest."

            elara felt a rush of gratitude toward nymphie, but dumbledore took no notice of her words. he leaned forward toward harry and elara.

            "if i thought i could help you," dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, i would do it. but i know better. numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. you both have shown bravery beyond anything i could have expected of you. i ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. i ask you to tell us what happened."

            the phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. it shivered in the air, and elara felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down her throat into her stomach, warming her, and strengthening her.

            "alright... but harry, i'll need you to help," said elara uncertainly.

            they each took a deep breath and began to tell them. elara began first, describing how she was frozen in spot from the waist down and had no voice. she told them of cedric's death, and her constant silent screams. she told them of the cauldron, and how wormtail had cut off his own hand.

            once or twice, sirius and nymphie made noises as though about to say something, but dumbledore raised his hand to stop them, and elara was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now she had started. it was even a relief; she felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from her. it was costing her every bit of determination she had to keep talking, yet she sensed that once she had finished, she would feel better.

            when harry had told of wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, sirius let out a vehement exclamation and dumbledore stood up so quickly that harry and elara started. dumbledore walked around the desk and told harry to stretch out his arm. harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

            "he said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," harry told dumbledore. "he said the protection my — my mother left in me — he'd have it too. and he was right — he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

            for a fleeting instant, elara thought she saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. but next second, elara was sure she had imagined it, for when dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as elara had ever seen him.

            "very well," he said, sitting down again. "voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. continue, please."

            elara picked up; he explained how voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and how she had fallen out of the enchantment that kept her still. she told them all she could remember of voldemort's speech to the death eaters. then she told how voldemort had untied harry, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel. she explained how she kept trying to interfere, and it worked. how she had been able to throw a stone at voldemort. how she'd been able to speak.

            but when harry reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and voldemort's wands, his voice grew thick. he tried to keep talking. nymphie broke the silence.

            "the wands connected?" she said, looking from harry to dumbledore. "why?"

            elara looked up at dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look.

            "priori incantatem," he muttered.

            his eyes gazed into harry's. 

            "the reverse spell effect?" said sirius sharply.

            "exactly," said dumbledore. "harry's wand and voldemort's wand share cores. each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. this phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on elara's knee.

            "my wand's feather came from fawkes?" harry said, amazed.

            "yes," said dumbledore. "mr. ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

            "so what happens when a wand meets its brother?" said sirius.

            "they will not work properly against each other," said dumbledore. "if, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle . . . a very rare effect will take place. one of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed — in reverse. the most recent first . . . and then those which preceded it. . . ."

            he looked interrogatively at harry, and harry nodded.

            "which means," said dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon harry's face, "that some form of cedric must have reappeared."

            harry nodded again.

            "diggory came back to life?" said nymphie sharply.

            "no spell can reawaken the dead," said dumbledore heavily. "all that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. a shadow of the living cedric would have emerged from the wand . . . am i correct, harry?"

            "he spoke to me," harry said. he was shaking again. elara squeezed his hand. "the . . . the ghost cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

            "an echo," said dumbledore, "which retained cedric's appearance and character. i am guessing other such forms appeared . . . less recent victims of voldemort's wand. . . ."

            "an old man," harry said, his throat sounding constricted. "bertha jorkins. and . . ."

            "your parents?" said dumbledore quietly.

            "yes," said harry.

            nymphie's grip on elara's shoulder was now so tight it was painful. 

            "the last murders the wand performed," said dumbledore, nodding. "in reverse order. more would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. very well, harry, these echoes, these shadows . . . what did they do?"

            harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of harry's father had told him what to do, how cedric's had made its final request.

            at this point, harry could not continue. elara picked up, and began explaining how she'd been able to fire spells at the death eaters to protect harry. how she'd been able to touch voldemort and distract him while harry could run.

            elara suddenly became aware that fawkes had left her knee. the phoenix had fluttered to the floor. it was resting its beautiful head against harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. the skin mended. his leg was repaired.

            "professor -- voldemort, when he was speaking of my parents, he mentioned me specifically. and crouch said that i was the weapon voldemort so desired... why? what can i do?"

            "nymphandora, i suggest you have a seat for this," said dumbledore quietly. nymphie didn't even protest to the use of her full name. she conjured up a chair and sat down in it, face as white as a sheet. "you came to me after harry's name emerged from the goblet of fire, saying you'd had a dream just like it the night before. you gave me your dream journals. i grew suspicious then. you came to me again, with harry, later in the year. you had dreamed what harry dreamed, only weeks before. i knew then. and then, after tonight, after you told me that you were in the graveyard as the events took place. that you had been able to interfere..."

            the room was so tensely quiet.

            "you're a seer, elara," said dumbledore gently. "you're an incredibly rare type of seer, however. there have only been a few of your kind recorded in all of history."

            "what -- what does that mean?" nymph's voice shook.

            "it means elara can see into the past, present, and future. she's been getting stronger, and i don't know how, but she's able to interfere with present visions. voldemort's been after you the moment you were born, elara."

            everyone remained quiet.

            "i will say it again," said dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "you both have shown bravery beyond anything i could have expected of you tonight. you have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting voldemort at the height of his powers. you have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it — and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect. you both will come with me to the hospital wing. i do not want either of you returning to the dormitory tonight. a sleeping potion, and some peace . . . sirius and nymphandora, would you like to stay with them?"

            "but professor, first year -- "

            "severus has made a recent discovery. when i had my suspicions of your power, i asked him to look into a solution for you. i can assure you that he's found one," dumbledore informed elara.

            sirius had transformed back into the great black dog and walked with harry, nymphie, elara and dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

            when dumbledore pushed open the door, elara saw mrs. weasley, bill, ron, and hermione grouped around a harassed-looking madam pomfrey. they appeared to be demanding to know where harry and elara were and what had happened to them. all of them whipped around as harry, nymphie, elara, dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and mrs. weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.

            "harry! oh elara!"

            she started to hurry toward them, but dumbledore moved between them.

            "molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. harry and elara have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. they have just had to relive it for me. what they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. if they would like you all to stay with them," he added, looking around at ron, hermione, and bill too, "you may do so. but i do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

            mrs. weasley nodded. she was very white. she rounded on ron, hermione, and bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "did you hear? they need quiet!"

            "headmaster," said madam pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was sirius, "may i ask what — ?"

            "emotional support dog," elara answered immediately without thinking.

            "this dog will be remaining with harry and elara for a while," said Dum- bledore simply. "as elara has just said, he is extremely well trained. nymphandora is to be staying with elara as well. harry, elara — i will wait while you get into bed."

            elara felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to dumbledore for asking the others not to question them. the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than she could stand. she had grown wearied and worried as she walked into dumbledore's office. the adrenaline had stopped pumping, and now elara was left with a craving for sleep.

            "i will be back to see you as soon as i have met with fudge," said dumbledore. "i would like you two to remain here tomorrow until i have spoken to the school." he left.

            as madam pomfrey led harry and elara to a nearby bed (she had pushed three beds together, sensing nymphie would refuse to move from elara's side), elara caught sight of the real moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. his wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.

            "is he okay?" harry asked. he must've seen moody too.

            "he'll be fine," said madam pomfrey, giving harry and elara some pajamas and pulling two separate screens around them. elara took off her robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. harry asked before pulling the other screen back. ron, hermione, bill, mrs. weasley, and the black dog came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of the beds. nymphie settled herself on the bed between elara and harry. ron and hermione were looking at harry and elara almost cautiously, as though scared of them.

            "i'm all right," harry told them. "just tired."

            elara had a feeling they were going to ask how she's wrapped up in all this. "i'll explain later," she said. "i'm going to have to, anyways."

            mrs. weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed the bedcovers unnecessarily. madam pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion, another bottle of a light blue potion, and two goblets.

            "you'll need to drink all of this, harry," she said. "it's a potion for dreamless sleep. elara, this is the potion you need to take unless you want to be tied down again."

            elara took the goblet full of light blue potion and drank a few mouthfuls. she felt herself becoming drowsy at once. everything around her became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at her in a friendly way through the screen around the bed; her body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather matress. before she could finish the potion, before she could say another word, she wrapped her arms around nymphie, and her exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.

            elara woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that she didn't open his eyes, wanting to drop off again. the room was still dimly lit; she was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that she couldn't have been asleep very long.

            then she heard whispering around her.

            "they'll wake them if they don't shut up!"

            "what are they shouting about? nothing else can have happened, can it?"

            elara opened her eyes blearily. mrs. weasley and bill were close by. mrs. weasley was on her feet.

            "that's fudge's voice," she whispered. "and that's minerva mcgonagall's, isn't it? but what are they arguing about?"

            now elara could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

            "regrettable, but all the same, minerva —" cornelius fudge was saying loudly.

            "you should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled professor mcgonagall. "when dumbledore finds out —"

            elara heard the hospital doors burst open. unnoticed by any of the people around their bed, all of whom were staring at the door as bill pulled back the screens. fudge came striding up the ward. professors mcgonagall and snape were at his heels.

            "where's dumbledore?" fudge demanded of mrs. weasley.

            "he's not here," said mrs. weasley angrily. "this is a hospital wing, minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"

            but the door opened, and dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

            "what has happened?" said dumbledore sharply, looking from fudge to professor mcgonagall. "why are you disturbing these people? minerva, i'm surprised at you — i asked you to stand guard over barty crouch —"

            "there is no need to stand guard over him anymore, dumbledore!" she shrieked. "the minister has seen to that!"

            elara had never seen professor mcgonagall lose control like this. there were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

            "when we told mr. fudge that we had caught the death eater responsible for tonight's events," said snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. he insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. he brought it up to the office where barty crouch —"

            "i told him you would not agree, dumbledore!" professor mcgonagall fumed. "i told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"

            "my dear woman!" roared fudge, who likewise looked angrier than elara had ever seen him, "as minister of magic, it is my decision whether i wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"

            but professor mcgonagall's voice drowned fudge's.

            "the moment that — that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on crouch and — and —"

            elara felt a chill in her stomach as professor mcgonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. she did not need professor mcgonagall to finish her sentence. she knew what the dementor must have done. it had administered its fatal kiss to barty crouch. it had sucked his soul out through his mouth. he was worse than dead.

            "by all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered fudge. "it seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

            "i put my life at risk to keep him conscious," said elara, her temper flaring. "so that i could have sufficient evidence against him! and now he can't give testimony! he can't give evidence about why he killed those people!"

            "why he killed them? well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered fudge. "he was a raving lunatic! from what minerva and severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on you-know-who's instructions!"

            "lord voldemort was giving him instructions, cornelius," dumbledore said. "those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore voldemort to full strength again. the plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

            fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. dazed and blinking, he stared back at dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. he began to sputter, still goggling at dumbledore.

            "you-know-who . . . returned? preposterous. come now, dumbledore . . ."

            "as minerva and severus have doubtless told you," said dumbledore, "we heard barty crouch confess. under the influence of veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of azkaban, and how voldemort — learning of his continued existence from bertha jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture harry. the plan worked, i tell you. crouch has helped voldemort to return."

            "see here, dumbledore," said fudge, and elara was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you — you can't seriously believe that. you-know-who — back? come now, come now . . . certainly, crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon you-know-who's orders — but to take the word of a lunatic like that, dumbledore . . ."

            "when harry touched the triwizard cup tonight, he was transported straight to voldemort. elara was sent there in a vision," said dumbledore steadily. "they witnessed lord voldemort's rebirth. i will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

            dumbledore glanced around at harry and elara and saw that they were awake, but shook his head and said, "i am afraid i cannot permit you to question harry or elara tonight."

            fudge's curious smile lingered. he too glanced at harry and elara, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "you are — er — prepared to take their word on this, are you, dumbledore?"

            there was a moment's silence, which was broken by sirius growling. his hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at fudge.

            "certainly, i believe them," said dumbledore. his eyes were blazing now. "i heard crouch's confession, and i heard harry's and elara's of what happened after he touched the triwizard cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since bertha jorkins disappeared last summer."

            fudge still had that strange smile on his face. once again, he glanced at harry and elara before answering.

            "you are prepared to believe that lord voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, a girl who sleeps around, and a boy who . . . well . . ."

            fudge shot harry and elara another look, and elara suddenly understood.

            "you've been reading rita skeeter, mr. fudge," harry said quietly.

            ron, hermione, mrs. weasley, and bill all jumped. none of them had realized that harry was awake yet.

            fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

            "and if i have?" he said, looking at dumbledore. "if I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? a parselmouth, eh? and having funny turns all over the place —"

            "i assume that you are referring to the pains harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said dumbledore coolly.

            "you admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said fudge quickly. "headaches? nightmares? possibly — hallucinations?"

            "listen to me, cornelius," said dumbledore, taking a step toward fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that elara had felt after dumbledore had stood over young crouch. "harry is as sane as you or i. that scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. i believe it hurts him when lord voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

            fudge had taken half a step back from dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.

            "you'll forgive me, dumbledore, but i've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before. . . ."

            "look, we saw voldemort come back!" harry shouted. he tried to get out of bed again, but mrs. weasley forced him back. 

            "we saw the death eaters!" elara yelled. "we can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"

            snape made a sudden movement, but as elara looked at him, snape's eyes flew back to fudge.

            "malfoy was cleared!" said fudge, visibly affronted. "a very old family — donations to excellent causes —"

            "macnair!" harry continued.

            "also cleared! now working for the ministry!"

            "avery — nott — crabbe — goyle —" elara named the rest.

            "you are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being death eaters thirteen years ago!" said fudge angrily. "you could have found those names in old reports of the trials! for heaven's sake, dumbledore — these two were full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — their tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them — the boy can talk to snakes, the girl is the daughter of death eaters, dumbledore, and you still think they're trustworthy?"

             "you fool!" professor mcgonagall cried. "cedric diggory! mr. crouch! these deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

            "i see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "it seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

            elara couldn't believe what she was hearing. sHe had always thought of fudge as a kindly figure, a little blustering, a little pompous, but essentially good-natured. but now a short, angry wizard stood before him, refusing, point-blank, to accept the prospect of disruption in his comfortable and ordered world — to believe that voldemort could have risen.

            "voldemort has returned," dumbledore repeated. "if you accept that fact straightaway, fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. the first and most essential step is to remove azkaban from the control of the dementors —"

            "preposterous!" shouted fudge again. "remove the dementors? i'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at azkaban!"

            "the rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, cornelius, knowing that you have put lord voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said dumbledore. "they will not remain loyal to you, fudge! voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! with the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

            fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

            "the second step you must take — and at once," dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

            "envoys to the giants?" fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "what madness is this?"

            "extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said dumbledore, "or voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

            "you — you cannot be serious!" fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from dumbledore. "if the magical community got wind that i had approached the giants — people hate them, dumbledore — end of my career —"

            "you are blinded," said dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, cornelius! you place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! you fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! i tell you now — take the steps i have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest ministers of magic we have ever known. fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

            silence. something clicked.

            "do you want to know why i saw harry in the graveyard, minister?" elara shouted, shaking with rage. "i'm a bloody seer, and you know it! that's why you gave me to aunt meda. if you hadn't known, you'd've handed me right to narcissa malfoy -- "

            "insane," whispered fudge, still backing away. "mad . . ."

            and then there was silence. madam pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of the bed, her hands over her mouth. mrs. weasley was still standing over harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. nymphie had her hand clutched around elara's upper-arm to prevent her from doing something she'll regret. bill, ron, and hermione were staring at fudge.

            "if your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, cornelius," said dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. you must act as you see fit. and i — i shall act as i see fit."

            dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but fudge bristled as though dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

            "now, see here, dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "i've given you free rein, always. i've had a lot of respect for you. i might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but i've kept quiet. there aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the ministry. but if you're going to work against me —"

            "the only one against whom i intend to work," said dumbledore, "is lord voldemort. if you are against him, then we remain, cornelius, on the same side."

            it seemed fudge could think of no answer to this. he rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "he can't be back, dumbledore, he just can't be . . ."

            snape strode forward, past dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. he stuck out his forearm and showed it to fudge, who recoiled.

            "there," said snape harshly. "there. the dark mark. it is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. every death eater had the sign burned into him by the dark lord. it was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. when he touched the mark of any death eater, we were to disapparate, and apparate, instantly, at his side. this mark has been growing clearer all year. karkaroff's too. why do you think karkaroff fled tonight? we both felt the mark burn. we both knew he had returned. karkaroff fears the dark lord's vengeance. he betrayed too many of his fellow death eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

            fudge stepped back from snape too. he was shaking his head. he did not seem to have taken in a word snape had said. he stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on snape's arm, then looked up at dumbledore and whispered, "i don't know what you and your staff are playing at, dumbledore, but i have heard enough. i have no more to add. i will be in touch with you tomorrow, dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. i must return to the ministry."

            he had almost reached the door when he paused. he turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at harry's bed.

            "your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto harry's bedside table. "one thousand galleons. there should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances . . ."

            "minister," elara began in a voice so cold that it startled everyone around her. "why don't you take a look at my memories? at harry's memories? or are you too bloody blinded by your own greed?"

            he crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. the moment he had disappeared, dumbledore turned to look at the group around harry's bed.

            "there is work to be done," he said. "molly . . . am i right in thinking that i can count on you and arthur?"

            "of course you can," said mrs. weasley. she was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "we know what fudge is. it's arthur's fondness for muggles that has held him back at the ministry all these years. fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

            "then i need to send a message to arthur," said dumbledore. "all those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the ministry who are not as shortsighted as cornelius."

            "i'll go to dad," said bill, standing up. "i'll go now."

            "excellent," said dumbledore. "tell him what has happened. tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. he will need to be discreet, however. if fudge thinks i am interfering at the ministry —"

            "leave it to me," said bill.

            he clapped a hand on harry's shoulder, then elara's, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

            "whatever's happening," said nymphie. "i want to help. i'm an auror. i can be useful, even if i'm dead clumsy."

            "of course, nymphandora. thank you. i shall keep you informed of when we meet. minerva," said dumbledore, turning to professor mcgonagall, "i want to see hagrid in my office as soon as possible. also — if she will consent to come — madame maxime."

            professor mcgonagall nodded and left without a word.

            "poppy," dumbledore said to madam pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to professor moody's office, where i think you will find a house-elf called winky in considerable distress? do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. i think dobby will look after her for us."

            "very — very well," said madam pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

            dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that madam pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again. "and now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. sirius . . . if you could resume your usual form."

            the great black dog looked up at dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.

            mrs. weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.

            "sirius black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.

            "mum, shut up!" ron yelled. "it's okay!"

            snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.

            "him!" he snarled, staring at sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "what is he doing here?"

            "he is here at my invitation," said dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, severus. i trust you both. it is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

            elara thought dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. sirius and snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

            "i will settle, in the short term," said dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. you will shake hands. you are on the same side now. time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

            very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill — sirius and snape moved toward each other and shook hands. they let go extremely quickly.

            "that will do to be going on with," said dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "now i have work for each of you, including you, nymphandora. fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. sirius, i need you to set off at once. you are to alert remus lupin, arabella figg, mundungus fletcher — the old crowd. lie low at lupins for a while; i will contact you there. nymphandora, find corrine sharpe and oliver wood. i'm sure corrine's been itching to have a go at something."

            "but —" said harry and elara.

            elara wanted nymphie to stay. she'd been able to keep her calm..

            "lara, i'm your cousin-slash-sister. you'll see me in a few days," said nymphie, clasping her hands.

            "okay."

            nymphie and sirius, who had turned back into a great black dog, had turned and ran out the room.

            "severus," said dumbledore, turning to snape, "you know what i must ask you to do. if you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . ."

            "i am," said snape.

            he looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

            "then good luck," said dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as snape swept wordlessly after sirius and nymphie.

            it was several minutes before dumbledore spoke again.

            "i must go downstairs," he said finally. "i must see the diggorys. harry, elara — take the rest of your potions. i will see all of you later."

            elara slumped back against her pillows as dumbledore disappeared. harry did the same. hermione, ron, and mrs. weasley were all looking at him. none of them spoke for a very long time.

            "you've got to take the rest of your potion, you two," mrs. weasley said at last. her hand nudged the sack of gold on harry's bedside cabinet as she reached for the goblets. "you have a good long sleep. try and think about something else for a while . . . harry, think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

            "i don't want that gold," said harry in an expressionless voice. "you have it. anyone can have it. i shouldn't have won it. it should've been cedric's."

            harry blinked and stared up at the ceiling. discreetly, so as to not alert anybody, elara slipped her hand into harry's and gave it a reassuring squeeze. she was fighting back tears, also.

             "it wasn't your fault, harry," mrs. weasley whispered.

             "i told him to take the cup with me," said harry.

            mrs. weasley set the potions down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around harry and elara. elara didn't have to ask; she knew harry was blaming himself for all of it. she gave his hand another squeeze. she was screwing up her face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of her.

            there was a loud slamming noise, and mrs. weasley, elara, and harry broke apart. hermione was standing by the window. she was holding something tight in her hand.

            "sorry," she whispered.

            "your potions," said mrs. weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

            elara drank hers in one gulp. the effect was instantaneous. heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over her; she fell back onto her pillows, finger's still laced with harry's, and thought no more.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE

-- yikessssssss

JANUARY 24, 2020