Tuesday, Aug. 27

No further entries for this date.

---

Sometime mid-afternoon on the day after he had poisoned Severus and then doused him with a Coma Draught, Albus Dumbledore called Remus Lupin into his office.

The Werewolf was agitated, and not just because he knew Harry was upset over his fallen guardian, but also because the 28th was the full moon, and he was already feeling the effects. His eyes were shadowed, and the lines around them were deeper than usual. Tremors made his hands shake and he clasped them together in his lap.

"Tea, Remus?" Albus asked him, ever the congenial host.

"No," Remus said, his voice hoarse with the impending change. "No, thank you."

"It's a special blend, a favorite of mine. It will help soothe your nerves."

Remus ran one of those shaking hands through his hair. "Has Severus woken?"

"Not yet." And he would not, not until after Albus had taken Harry to the Ministry at the earliest. He poured some tea for himself, and then poured a second cup, and pushed it across the desk toward Lupin. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I'm not so sure. Harry has tried everything to wake him."

"I imagine he has. But it's just as well nothing has worked. Severus was in a great deal of pain, and his arm was hideously damaged. He needs time to heal. I'm sure when he wakes, he will be perfectly fine." And he would not have the distraction of his ward to keep him from following orders.

Remus nodded reluctantly, and reached for the tea. Albus smiled tightly, his mouth hidden by his own cup. It was so easy, he thought mildly. Too easy. The calming draught, laced with scurvy grass to slow the mind and confound the memory, would allow Albus to better manipulate anyone who drank it. And most of the imbeciles he worked with here had.

The last few days had been absolutely fascinating, as he watched from behind the old Headmaster's eyes, as the servants of the light scurried about. Albus' mind had been ridiculously easy to penetrate - far easier than he could ever have imagined - and this level of control, this possession, was far more useful than Imperious. For one thing, it was nearly undetectable, so long as the one in possession exercised a modicum of caution and did nothing wildly out of character in front of witnesses. And for another, there was no way for the Headmaster to fight him, now that he was in.

It was beautiful, really. Too bad he could not have done this years ago. It was only chance, he realized, that he had tried to infiltrate the Headmaster's defenses when the man's control over his own mind was already weakened by someone else's magic. He'd spent some time attempting to see whose, exactly, but many of the wily old man's memories were hazy or locked beyond his reach. Still, if blocking some memories was the only way Dumbledore had of protecting himself now, this was going to a rocky ride for him.

His only wish was that he had made better inroads into Harry Potter's mind when he had the chance. Their brief contact soon after the brat had escaped his clutches again, had not been enough for him to gain any true control, and now he knew that Severus had been bolstering his Occlumency, too. But soon enough, he would have Potter at his mercy once more.

"I will need your assistance, regarding Severus," Albus told the Werewolf. "Madam Pomfrey is due back tomorrow, but a rather urgent matter has come up before the Wizengamot, and I must be in attendance."

"What about Harry? He's been staying with Severus, taking care of him."

"I'm afraid Harry must accompany me."

Lupin frowned. "To the Ministry? Do you think that's wise, Albus?"

"Wise or not, it is what must be done. His testimony is required in a matter involving Lucius Malfoy."

Frown deepening, Lupin said, "Does this have anything to do with what happened when he was kidnapped?"

"Not directly, no." He folded his hands around his cup of tea and stared Lupin down. "How much do you know about what happened in Diagon Alley ten days ago?"

"Not much. Severus asked if he could use my hair to Polyjuice as me, so no one would know he was with Harry. I know they ran into some trouble, but neither has told me how much."

"They ran into Lucius Malfoy," Albus told him. "And Harry attempted to cast the Killing Curse."

"No!"

"Yes. It was rather shocking to the witnesses of the attack, to be sure." Albus smiled ruefully. "Just as well the spell was not completed. Severus - in your body - Apparated them away."

Lupin looked a little sick. Albus could understand his sentiment; he had been quite sure the boy didn't have it in him to kill anyone. In fact, he was counting on it. But now . . . now he'd just have to make sure Potter didn't have a chance like that again.

"I . . . I can't believe it."

Almost sneering - though he caught himself in time - Albus said, "I'm sure it's quite a shock. I don't think anyone realized the depths to which Harry is willing to sink for the cause."

"He's been through so much," Lupin whispered, hands covering his face.

"Yes, of course," Albus murmured. "Thus, I need you to keep an eye on Severus while I take Harry to the Ministry. I'm sure they'll try all sorts of things against him, so it's best if I am there to protect him."

Lupin looked up at last, his eyes haunted. "But, the moon-"

"Will be full tomorrow, yes. But we should have returned well before nightfall. Besides, like I said, Madam Pomfrey will be back tomorrow, and she can care for Severus then." And if, for some reason, a werewolf was stuck in Snape's rooms with no means of egress, that was another problem dealt with.

"I . . . all right." The werewolf sounded defeated. "When will you leave?"

"Immediately. I asked Harry to stop by here at three. Perhaps you can Floo to Severus' quarters and send him up?"

Lupin dragged himself to his feet, obviously still reeling from the news Albus had given him about his Golden Boy. "Yes, of course," he murmured, and went to the Floo. Albus gave him the password and he left. Less than ten minutes later, Harry arrived, falling out of the Floo like an ungainly colt, all knees and elbows.

Taking another sip of his tea, Albus averted his gaze as Harry climbed to his feet. There was no knowing how good the boy was at Legilimency, or if he even had the skill at all, thus the measure was precautionary, as it would not do for Potter to realize he wasn't dealing with a fully cognizant Headmaster.

That would not do at all.

---

"Harry, dear boy," the Headmaster said.

Glancing up at Dumbledore, Harry brushed soot off his clothes. He really, really hated traveling by Floo. And he had not wanted to leave Severus alone - well, not alone, but nearly - when he was doing so poorly. What was so important he had to leave now? He took a seat across from the Headmaster. "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Did Professor Lupin tell you why I needed to see you?"

"No, sir. Just that he would take care of Severus while we were gone. Where are we going?"

"To the Ministry. A matter has come up involving Lucius Malfoy, and your testimony is needed."

The bottom dropped out of Harry's stomach. "Malfoy, but . . ." He shook his head. "Is this because of the Killing Curse?"

"No, no." Dumbledore poured out a cup of tea without even asking if he wanted any, and pushed it across the desk towards him. Harry ignored it. "I'm afraid one of your friends has run afoul of Mr. Malfoy. It seems he has accused young Mister Weasley of sending him a hexagram."

"What!? Ron wouldn't do that!"

"Of course not, Harry. Still, Mr. Malfoy is an influential member of society, and his charges must have some basis in truth, if the Wizengamot is willing to hear them."

Harry shook his head again. Maybe the twins had done something? But why would they try to get Ron into trouble like that? They wouldn't have. And Ron certainly wasn't that stupid. "No, it doesn't make any sense."

"Sense or no, your testimony is required, Harry. Without it, I'm afraid Mr. Weasley might not come out of this very well.

"I don't understand," Harry said. And he didn't. How would what he said make any difference at all?

Dumbledore frowned, but still did not meet Harry's gaze; it was like fifth year all over again. Harry had hated it then, the feeling like he was being ignored, and he hated it now. It didn't matter that Dumbledore had had a good reason for not meeting his eyes before, he still felt slighted. Did the Headmaster think Voldemort was seeing through his eyes again? As far as Harry knew, that couldn't happen again, now that he was Occluding all the time. But maybe Dumbledore didn't know that.

Realizing his thoughts were wandering, Harry focused again on what the Headmaster was saying.

"Apparently, Mr. Malfoy believes Ron mentioned his plans in a letter to you. He requested you bring any correspondence you have received from Ron, as well."

"But I haven't even read it! Severus still has my letters. He only let me read one."

The Headmaster shook his head and reached for something in one of his desk drawers. Holding up a packet of envelopes, he said, "I retrieved the letters from Severus last night, before he was attacked through the Mark. But you will need to verify their authenticity."

Harry felt like he might be sick. The whole thing was ludicrous, of course. Ron would never be so stupid as to send a hexagram, whatever the hell that was, and even if he was that stupid, why on earth would he brag about it in a letter? But since when had anything Malfoy did make any sense, except in the most sick, twisted way imaginable? Just the idea of seeing him again, and his smirking smile, his knowing look and his sick innuendos, made Harry want to scream.

He clenched his hands into fists so tight his nails cut half moons of blood into his palms.

"Are you ready to go?" The Headmaster sounded so calm, so completely at ease, that Harry wanted to punch him in the face. Wanted to send another stream of memory at him, the same one racing through Harry's mind right now. Wanted to see him flinch.

But none of that would help Ron.

Swallowing down his fear, Harry nodded. "I . . . okay. Floo?"

Nodding, Dumbledore rose and gestured for Harry to precede him to the fireplace.

"I . . . don't you think it would be better if you went through first?" Harry grimaced at the shakiness in his voice, but plowed on regardless. "If Malfoy's there, he might . . . I mean . . . I would rather you were there first. In case he tries anything."

"Of course, Harry." Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder, and it was all Harry could do not to leap away from him. "Don't worry. No one will hurt you. There's no need to be afraid."

Harry looked away. He wasn't just afraid; he was terrified. But it wasn't like Dumbledore to say such a thing to him. For one thing, he rarely said things that he knew weren't true. And he knew Lucius would hurt Harry, if he were given a chance.

But maybe, after their "talk" last week, Dumbledore was more anxious about Harry's frayed nerves than usual. Maybe he wanted to be the comforting type now, a role Harry had decided a long time ago was never going to happen, not for him. He knew Dumbledore just wanted him as a weapon to fight Voldemort. That was his own role, and he had pretty much accepted that, despite what he told Severus. And for Dumbledore to now get all mushy on him . . . well, that just wasn't on.

Still, it wasn't like he wanted to argue about it either, and if Dumbledore wanted to be "caring" and all, then Harry would use it. "I'd feel much better if you'd go first, sir," he said.

"Very well. But come through immediately afterwards. It's very important, for Weasley especially."

"Yes, sir. Of course."

In seconds, the Headmaster had called out, "Ministry Inquisitor's Office" and gone through the Floo, with the packet of Ron's letters to him gripped in his hand. Harry stared at the fireplace, and took a handful of Floo powder with a shaking hand. He wasn't sure what lay on the other side of this ride, but he would be willing to bet it wasn't just about Ron.

Holding his breath, he stepped into the fireplace, threw the powder down, and called out the destination.

When he tumbled from the fireplace into the little office, and pried his stinging eyes open, the first thing he saw was Lucius Malfoy, with his wand pointed at Harry's head. Right beside him, wand steady and wearing a grim smile, was Albus Dumbledore, doing the very same thing.