Harry Potter And The Green Flame Torch (Fan Written Version)

CHAPTER ONE
THE CARETAKER

With all the doors and windows tightly shut, the building stood in ominous silence. The moon rose full and high and its unearthly white light seemed to reveal the stark grimness of the whole place.Flood spread over the fields.

Gusts of wind blew cold across the land, now silver with water. This was the first clear night in weeks and the trees swayed, perhaps under the impression of a ball. Yet, all was eerily quiet.

A mole tried to make its way across a puddle, flushed from its underground hiding place. Instead of paws, the earth dweller-a soft furred eyeless creature-had dark glove like appendages, and it struggled, floundering silently in the brown water.

A woman knelt and picked up the struggling animal, no bigger than her thumb. The snouty, helpless creature lifted its head, its heart thrumming wildly in her palm. In the dark earth, Narcissa knew that the animal had a silent, undisturbed kingdom.She stroked it gently with her fingers-now wrinkled with age-with a silent smile on her old face.

Suddenly she noticed something. Something that not only made her eyes wide, sparking bright, but also turned her smile into a broad grin.
“So you’re back after such a long time! Good to see you again m’boy.”

The creature struggled hard in Narcissa Malfoy’s hand, but its tiny legs were not strong enough to escape her grip.
“Stop Ferris. Stop moving. Stay where you are, or else”, she said, taking out her wand,
“Imperio.”

At once, the dark-furred animal stopped wriggling and coiled itself in her palm, silently, quite apt with the surroundings.
“That’s nice!”

Crack.

Narcissa wheeled, alarmed, in the direction of the sound. She stared quite long in the darkness, an inexplicable disgust in her face, unable to make out the source of her disturbance. And then-
“Lumos.”

Immediately her expression changed. All her indignation seemed fluttering off into nothingness. She smiled broader and broader, till reaching saturation, her eyes sparkling with motherly affection.

A tall, muscular man with blonde hair and turquoise robes was standing half a yard away from her. He was submerged in water up to the knee and was carrying something black-small and shiny-in his right hand, which he hastily put inside his robes at the sight of the woman. From his expression, he did not seem pleased with the presence of Narcissa Malfoy.
“Mom?”
“Draco!!”
“What are you doing here in Hogsmeade at this time of night?”, asked Draco in an abhorrent sort of way.

Narcissa’s face contorted. Her expression changed even swiftly than before. She now looked a withered pumpkin pie, left unattended.
“What will you reply, son if I ask the same question to you, hmm??”

Draco scowled.
“It’s nothing of your business mom. Just keep out of the way and don’t poke your nose into it.”

The mother looked as if slapped hard in the face. She stared and stared in Draco’s eyes, until-
“OUCH.”

SPLASH.
With an utterly vigorous movement of its tail, the mole fell on the waterlogged field.
“What on earth were you doing with this mole?”
“It’s not just an ordinary mole, Draco. It’s Ferris…Ferris P-”

With a squeak, the creature started rotating on the spot. Swoosh went its tail, and then, the animal began to swell with a terrific acceleration. The snouty face became less pronounced and there appeared a nose, two large protruding eyes and machete like ears. The tail vanished, and with a stout body coming into being, the transformation was complete. Ferris Pettigrew stood up. He was a ratty faced man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large tummy. He wore taupe robes which were shabby and unkempt. Had it not been for a voice, he would have appeared to be a weathered boulder.
“Hullo madam Malfoy.”, he said in a voice that was somewhere between a song and a laugh.
“Welcome back, Ferris. Where had you been since the last seventeen years?”, asked Draco, looking pleased for the first time since his appearance at Hogsmeade.

Ferris looked as though swallowed a foul smelling piece of cake. He looked awfully disgusted at this question. Then smiled wearily.
“I think I can’t tell you, sir Malfoy.”, he croaked.
“And why the hell do you think so?”, Narcissa growled.
“Please madam, I beg-”
“You better tell us easily or be ready to have a gulp of veritaserum.”, spat Malfoy, taking out a small bottle from the heart of his robes.

Ferris considered him for a moment. His eyes rolled from Draco to Narcissa and back to Draco, who now resembled an angry schoolmaster. He bent down slowly, is eyes all the while on the angry man. Carefully and neatly, he folded up his pant up to the knee and said in the same squeaky voice,
“Follow me.”

And he turned, moving swiftly through the water towards the building. Draco and Narcissa trailed him, wading through the muddy water.

The building was dark and devastatingly mysterious under the unfathomable black sky, now flecked with blue as dawn approached. The front doors were shut and the low roof seemed quarterly ruined. Cobwebs and termite eaten wood articles were visible throughout, clearly indicating that the building had not been cleaned for ages. The surroundings were dark and dingy, and a small placard nailed on the fence read-

“SHRIEKING SHACK”

Two geckos fought their way back home (situated in a tree trunk) as Ferris, Draco and Narcissa approached the threshold.
“You were living in shrieking sha-”
“Yes”, answered Ferris even before Narcissa could complete her question.
“Why?”, snarled Draco.
“A work.”, he said softly.
“Work? What work?”

Ferris hesitated. Then, without saying a word, he pushed the great doors open. With a loud creak that echoed through the air, the mahogany doors swung open and Ferris, followed by Draco and Narcissa, stepped in. The interior of the building was damp and dimly lit, mosses and lichens grew here and there in the walls and everything smelled of dead rats. Except for a small wooden bed, there was no article that could deny human uninhabitation. A lamppost stood in the corner of the room, beside which, sat an ancient looking chest of drawers. On the wall opposite was an old portrait of a colossal snake.

Narcissa took an abrupt turn and flicked her wand. The doors closed, thus creating a partition between the slowly dawning day outside and the dark and grim atmosphere inside. She then turned to face Ferris, her face very straight, arms crossed and said in her cold and stern voice,
“Explain.”

Ferris trembled. Then cleared his throat and began-
“Nineteen years ago, the night when Harry Potter was brought to Malfoy Manor, the night when sir Draco lost his wand and the night-”, he said with a sob, “-when my father died, I had turned three. The Dark Lord, much pleased with my Father’s service had decided to reward him by providing his son, who is I, with all the darkest magic knowledge of his times on my birthday. My mother was so excited on hearing this news that she toppled down the staircase and broke her jawbone. My father, being too busy with you lot-”, he said, clenching his fist, which loosened immediately at the sight of Draco’s face, “-could not come on my birthday. I, along with my mom, waited eagerly for the Dark Lord, but some stupid Lestrange lady summoned him even before he could come to our house. As told by my mother later, after He-who-was-not-named had killed a wand maker, he sent a message to my mom, indicating his arrival soon. But he didn’t come. Instead he made for Malfoy Manor and I was left unrewar-”, he stopped abruptly as Draco and Narcissa exchanged nervous looks.
“Don’t stop…Continue.”, ordered Narcissa.
“Two hours after the theft at Gringotts, the Dark Lord paid a visit to our house. He was looking terrified and his hands were shaking, yet his eyes appeared bloody and cruel. He asked my mother to hand me over to him as he had planned something. My mother, a bit agitated at this change of plan, refused.”
“What?? Terriona said NO to the Dark Lord? Why?”, barked Draco, outraged.
“No idea. Maybe she had gone mad. But the Dark Lord’s decision was final and he became so furious at her that he tortured her beyond her endurance.”
“How?”, hissed Narcissa.
“MacroCruciatus curse.”
“Oh”
“So, is she, er-d-dead?”, spoke Draco, terrified.
“No. Alive and struggling.”
"Where?”
“St. Mungo’s.”
“Okay.. Go on..”
“He-who-was-not-named brought me along with him, and one day-”, his eyes brightened as he said so, “-he provided me the power that made me Magicomniscient.”

Narcissa gaped.
Draco’s eyes widened.
“S-So y-y-you know everything about magic. I mean all charms and curses and all the events that took place right from the dawn of wizardry?”
“Yes”, he said in a boasting sort of manner, “and this boosted up my mental level by fifteen years. Physically I was three but mentally, eighteen. The Dark Lord ordered me to reside in Shrieking Shack and appointed another man as my second master.”
“Who was he?”
“I won’t tell you.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. For a second, he felt like pouncing on him, but the next second a new thought occurred to him-he is magicomniscient-and he immediately came back to normal.
“I obeyed the Dark Lord and started living here. It was in front of these very eyes that Severus Snape lost his life. I was in that corner,”, he said, pointing towards the corner where the lamppost stood, “and I saw a great snake strike him. I also witnessed Snape giving his memory wisp to Harry Potter before dying.”

Narcissa Malfoy nearly toppled. Draco sniffed, as if to catch Harry’s scent to make sure he had once been here, then straightened up.
“I was happy that He-who-was-not-named was good to me. But alas, we meet to part. My master, the Dark Lord died the very same night. After two days, my second master gave me the charge of”, he said, rather happily, “the charge of this portrait.”, and he pointed towards the snake’s portrait."What's so special about it?", asked Draco.

Ferris looked as though ready to strike. Draco backed. Ferris drew out his wand.
"Serpensortia.", he bellowed.

A huge, black snake emerged from the tip of his wand and fell on the floor with a thud.
Narcissa screamed.
Draco looked bewildered. He was forcefully reminded of the day when he, in his second year at Hogwarts, had used the same spell on Harry Potter.
“What are you going to do?”, he shouted, tensed.
“Imperio”, Ferris said, pointing his wand at the snake, paying no attention at them.

The snake turned its head in obedience and faced the portrait. Then it bowed its head and hissed.

The portrait shivered. The snake in the portrait, as well as in reality, dissolved. There appeared a small hole at the center of the portrait which grew wider and wider to reveal a greenish glow. It expanded in a jiffy and suddenly the room was illuminated with green light. All of them closed their eyes. It was the first time in history when this building was so brightly lit. After some minutes, as the light faded and they opened their eyes, they saw something elliptical. It was as big as Pettigrew’s belly and was surrounded by something silvery, which appeared somewhere between a cage and a tank. Also, it was smooth and shiny and was the source of the greenish glow.

Having this sort of a thing even in the wizarding world indicated something bad, something sinister.

Draco looked at the thing, then at his mother, then at Ferris and finally decided to stare at the oval, his hands on his wand and his mouth wide open. Narcissa, however, remained transfixed, her black eyes wide open and her body stiff, as though petrified. Ferris, on the other hand, looked normal.
“It’s the first time I have opened the portrait after it was handed over to me.”

An owl hooted somewhere and at the same time a hissing sound filled the entire room. It was coming from the depth of the mysterious oval.
"W-what actually is it, Ferris?", asked Draco, his eyes fixed on the object.
"Nagini's egg.", he replied, and the hissing grew louder.

Far far away in Godric's Hollow, Harry Potter woke up with a start.

CHAPTER TWO
AT THE BURROW

His scar was on fire.

Never had this happened after the death of Voldemort. Harry had been leading a pain-free life since the past nineteen years. But this sudden occurrence of this long lost burning sensation troubled him.

He lay on his bed, his eyes closed and his hand stroking his bolt-shaped scar. His throat was dry and he could feel drops of sweat on his nose as he breathed heavily. But the main trouble was not the prickling scar. It was something else.

At young age, when his scar had prickled in his sleep, he had seen a crystal clear dream, where everything was sharp and distinct. But this time, it was not a clear dream. Just haziness. And the scar had burnt. Harry tried to concentrate. He stressed his mind hard but found nothing except a few outlines of human figures, some squeak like whispers and hissing sound. It was as though his mind was practicing occlumency against him. Harry felt disturbed. He could thing of no reason of his prickling scar. The momentary realization of the return of dark magic made him feel uneasy.

He opened up his eyes.

Blurred surroundings looked back at him. For a second, Harry thought himself fainting, but then, he realized that the blur was not due to the overpowering unconsciousness. He was not wearing glasses.

He got up, one hand pressed against his forehead and the other reaching out for the glasses. He found them sticking out of the drawer at an odd angle and ignoring his carelessness, he put them on.

A brightly lit room with a sweet smell of fresh flowers greeted him. He looked around. Everything seemed so familiar- the snitch shaped flower vase containing ‘never drying roses’, the bed, the walls, the cupboard, the piece of parchment on which he had been writing a letter to Albus, the quill, the inkpot and the photograph kept on the shelf.

He picked up the photograph. Five people smiled back at him. To the extreme left was a black-haired man. He was wearing round glasses and was having a scar on his forehead. The apparent Harry smiled at the real one. Next to him was a beautiful red-haired woman, dressed in royal blue, grinning broadly. In front of them were three little children, all laughing and winking. The real Harry smiled back at his small, but happy family. Suddenly he was pulled back in memories.

A clear view of his past floated in his mind, as if it had happened just a day before. He remembered the time, when, he and Ginny, after getting married, had come to Godric’s Hollow and by using the furbishing charm, had transformed his parents’ ruined house into a magnificent building. It was this place where they had their children. It was the same house which he could call a home (after Hogwarts, of course). It was the same place where…
“Morning dear!!”, said Ginny, pressing her lips to his cheeks.

Harry looked at his wife. She appeared to be gaining beauty day by day. Her red hair seemed getting silkier and the attractiveness in her style seemed getting intensified with each passing day. Ginny looked back at him lovingly. Harry could not resist. He came closer. His lips touched hers…
“Oops…sorry...I came at the wrong time.”

They broke apart. Standing by the doorway was the ten year old daughter, Lily. Harry turned towards the window, trying hard to suppress a grin. He avoided giving Ginny a second glance, who, blushing, had headed towards the cupboard.

“Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday dear mamma…Happy birthday to you…”

Harry’s stomach gave a jolt. He turned, startled, his eyes wide open and his grin replaced by confusion. He darted towards his table to have a look at the magicalendar. In a hurry, he knocked the inkpot, thus spilling ink all over the tabletop. With a swift glance at Ginny, who at these sort of moments appeared a mixture of Mrs.Weasley and Umbridge, he picked up the magicalendar.

The device was book shaped with a small window near the top right corner. The casing was red in colour and the window appeared dull grey. In the middle of the window, in golden letters, shimmered-

10th October
Ginny Potter’s birthday

Harry cursed his stupidity. How could he do this? How could he forget the birthday of his beloved? He cursed himself again. Then, with soft steps, approached the cupboard, where Ginny had already unwrapped Lily’s present to reveal a transparent ball like structure within which, swirled something white and wispy.
“Thank you Lily for the remembrall,”, she said, kneeling down and planting a kiss on her daughter’s rosy cheeks., “but I think,”, she smacked, “it’s your dad who needs it.”

Harry tried to smile, but couldn’t.

“Er-H-Happy birthday, G-Ginny.”, he said, trying to sound jovial, but a grunt accompanied his greeting.
“Thanks mister forgetful,”, smiled Ginny, getting up. She took his hand in hers.
“Your love is enough for me. I don’t mind you forgetting my birthday…I know you are too busy with work nowadays.”

Harry smiled and hugged her affectionately. It was this attitude of Ginny that always forced his love for her to reach boiling point.

Suddenly there was a short ticking noise. All of them looked at the window. An ugly looking brown owl was perched on the inner side of the pane. It was huge and looked tired. To its left leg were tied two envelopes. As Harry approached the owl, it looked imploringly at him. Giving a nod to the bird, he untied the envelopes from its legs. The owl gave a happy hoot. At once it turned back and flew out of the window.
“It’s for you Ginny,”, he said, trying to comprehend the handwritings, “from Albus and James.”

Ginny ran to her husband and snatched the envelopes from him. She opened the first one and read, aloud-

Dear mom,
Happy birthday!! Give my love to dad and Lily. Rest is fine.
James.

“Such a small letter!!”, exclaimed Harry.
“It’s too much for him, dear. Remember the last time he wrote? It’s too big as compared to that one.”

Harry remembered James’ last letter. He had just scribbled ‘thank you’ in reply to the new broomstick they had sent to him.
"Yeah, you're right."

Ginny, smiling, opened the other envelope. A bigger piece of parchment fell out of it, Lily picked t up and handed t over to her.
“Thank you, sweetheart!!”

She read-

My dearest mom,
First of all wishing you many happy returns of the day. Have a terrific birthday. Enjoy the party. I will surely miss the fun.
All is fine here. The teachers are very good. Professor Longbottom is the best. He always talks about you and dad.
I am having some trouble with James. He always thinks himself to be over smart and tries to find a way to pull my leg.
Please do talk to him regarding this.
Rest everything is fine.
I am missing you all a lot.
Give loads of love to dad and Lily.
Do reply to this.
I’ll be waiting.
With love…
Albus Severus

Ginny laughed, as Lily took the letters from her and went out.
“These children won’t stop teasing each other…I think we should talk to James.”

But Harry wasn’t listening. He had once again been forced to think about his dream, or whatever it was. He tried to remember what he saw, but couldn’t get even the least of it…

“Tomorrow we should send a letter to him. He should learn to behave nicely with Albus. And ah-yes, I forgot to tell you. Mom has invited us for dinner tonight.. She has organized a small birthday party for me. I am eagerly waiting to meet all of them. What do you think should I- Harry, Harry!”
“Yes.”, replied Harry, coming back to reality.
“What happened? Why do you look so pale?”

Harry thought for a moment. Would it be wise on his part to tell Ginny today? She looked so happy.. He would spoil her birthday. But then, not telling her would be foolishness.
“Sit.”, he said, pulling Ginny beside him on the bed, “and listen.”

By the time Harry had finished, Ginny looked terror struck.
“What do you think can be the reason of your scar prickling again?”
“No idea…I just feel something odd.”

***************************************

They apparated outside the Burrow. Harry, dressed in black coat, with a handsome bowtie Ginny had bought for him. Ginny was on his right. She was wearing a maroon dress with matching earrings. Both of them were holding Lily’ s hands, who seemed frustrated after the choking trip.

The old building had undergone many changes during the lastnineteen years. The old grandfather clock- with a needle representing each family member- had been replaced by a new muggle clock which chimed eight o'clock as they entered. The kitchen had been reformed and now appeared much cleaner than before. The atmosphere seemed cosy. Harry remembered the happy times he had spent here in the past.

“Happy birthday Ginny…”

The room seemed crowded. Harry had not expected so many people. Standing nearest was Harry’s mother-in-law, a stout lady in brown robes, smiling broadly at them. Next to her was Ginny’s dad, now completely bald. He wore robes that completely matched his skin. A tall, red-haired man was standing behind them. He was muscular and looked handsome.
“How are you, mate?”, he asked.
“I am fine, Ron…and you?
“Me too.”
“Where’s Hermione?”, asked Ginny.
“I am here..”, came a sweet voice from their left.

Harry and Ginny turned.A woman with curly brown hair and a pretty face was walking towards them. She wore a pearl white evening gown, and a diamond diadem added to her beauty. She embraced Ginny, wishing her a happy birthday.
“How are you Hermione?”
“Absolutely fit and fine”, she said with a chuckle… “O hi Harry!!”
“Hi Hermione.. Nice dress.”
“Thanks.”
“Lets dine.”, came Mrs.Weasley’s voice, and all of them, at once, sat down to eat and chat.

The party was wonderful. Mrs.Weasley had made an enormous cake for her daughter along with butterbeer, pasties, sandwiches and hamburgers etc. etc. They also talked to their heart’s content and ended up with a couple dance.

It was nearing twelve now. Mrs.Weasley was busy cleaning up the room. Harry was sitting with Mr.Weasley, who appeared drowsy. His head rolled from one side to the other as he sat there, muttering in his snooze. At the other end of the table, sat Ginny, Ron and Hermione, who looked grim. Hermione kept throwing sympathizing glances at Harry.

Harry thought he knew what conversation was going on between them. He had a sudden and strong urge to leave. He wanted to be alone.
“Let’s go Ginny.”, he said, getting up, and without bidding farewell to anyone, he came out. Ginny caught him five minutes later.
“What happened, Harry? Why did you come like this?”
“Let’s go.”, he said, holding Lily’s arm and turning to disapparate. But he couldn’t. Someone held him by the collar.
“How dare you leave without telling us what you witnessed in your dream?”, growled Hermione.
“Just a minute, love.”, called out Ron, coming into view. He caught Harry by the arm and looking at the two ladies, whispered,
“Meet him.”

Straining their eyes in the darkness, they saw him appearing out of the backyard. A dark-complexioned man with broad shoulders and dull looks came and stood next to Ron. He was wearing purple robes and was carrying a silver staff.
"Hello, Minister.?", greeted Harry, rather awkwardly.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stared at them, frightened. Then turned to Harry.
“Ron has informed me about your prickling scar..Tomorrow I want you in my office..Three o'clock sharp."

Saying this, he made a swift movement and disapparated. Harry gazed at the place where Kingsley had been standing a minute ago. Then nodded his head and muttered,
"Ok, minister."

CHAPTER THREE
AN UNEXPECTED HAPPENING

Harry apparated outside his house five minutes later. The Scar Cottage was a big white-painted house, with its wide-open windows, its tulle curtains floating outwards and its blue jars of chrysanthemum on the broad sills. On either side of the porch their hydrangeas-famous in the locality-were coming into flower; the pinkish, bluish mass of flowers lay like light among the spreading leaves.

Ginny appeared beside him, holding Lily delicately by the tip of her fingers.
“Why didn’t you want to come back, Lily..?”
“Because I don’t like this way of traveling. It’s simply suffocating. I can’t have a go at it any more.”, shouted Lily and ran away inside the house.
“D’you know Harry, she held Ron so firmly that I couldn’t pull her along with me. Thanks to Hermione for helping me out.”, said Ginny, smiling.

Harry smiled back.
“She’s a kid Ginny. She’ll understand about apparation with time.”
“Yes, I know.”

“AAARRGHHH…Mom…. Dad…”

Harry looked frightened. He immediately visualized Lily caught by a death eater. He ran inside the house, followed by Ginny, his heartbeat very fast and eyes straining to look for the innocent lass.
“Lily…Lily…. where are you?, he shouted.
“There.”, said Ginny, pointing towards the huge armchair.

Lily was crouched on the floor in front of the armchair, shaking badly. She appeared as though under the cruciatus curse. On the armchair, sat a masked figure in black robes.
“Petrificus Totalus.”, yelled Harry.

The spell did its work. The figure stiffened and fell on the floor with a thud.Harry lunged, followed closely by Ginny, who picked up their shivering daughter.Harry removed the mask. He looked hard at the face for some minutes, then flicked his wand, smiling.
"You rascal.", shouted Ginny, "You frightened Lily, your niece."
"I didn't mean to.", said George,straightening up. "I came here to wish you Ginny. I hadn't expected Lily to turn up first. I had expected you. Anyways, belated happy birthday."
"Thanks."

George’s present was bulky and neatly wrapped with crimson colored paper and golden ribbons. A small tag attached to it read,
For Ginny, the sis of my dreams

“Open it up Ginny..”, said George, sounding impatient.
“She will certainly, George..”, interrupted Harry, “Till then why don’t you sit- hang on, what’s that?... I mean, how can it be??”

Harry was pointing at George’s face.
“What?”
“Your ear, George.”, whispered Harry, laughing.

Ginny wheeled. She examined George closely for a minute, then flung herself in his arms. George had regained his lost ear. The new ear was a bit smaller than the original one and was a little pink, but looked completely normal.
“It’s not my original ear. It has not grown from my body.”
“Then?”, asked Ginny, freeing herself from George’s hug.

George caught hold of his ear and pulled. The ear came out-amidst Harry’s gasp, Ginny’s scream and Lily’s trembling-followed by a thin, skin-colored wire like structure. George held it out to them.
“It’s the Extendible Ear. I thought it would be a good idea to have both ears rather than one. So I used it. It also helps me to listen far off sounds.”
“How clever!!”, said Lily, sounding excited.
“Brilliant.”, Ginny said with delight. It was the first time she was pleased with George’s work.
“I would say.. fantabulous”, joined Harry, “It’s really a commendable job.”
“Thank you all.. Now can you open up the gift, Ginny?”, said George, fitting himself in the nearest chair.

Ginny took several minutes to open the gift. It was something big and cuboidal in shape. The outer portion was golden brown in colour and was carved in some ancient looking fashion. Examining it carefully, Harry found it was a box, for there was a lid and a gold latch , beneath which, something was engraved in very small golden letters-

I favour the favourable.

"What is it, George?", asked Ginny, a bit alarmed.
"It's the Box of Requirements."
"The Box of what?"
"Requirements... Just like the Room of Requirements... I invented it.. It'll provide you anything when you really need it... But remember... real need is a must...'

And with a crack, he disappeared.
"I think George still has some brains.", laughed Ginny.
"Yeah, I do, sis.", replied George, reapparating.

Ginny, shocked at this sudden reoccurence of her brother, dropped the Box of Requirements. Harry caught it in mid-air and placed it carefully on the table.
"What for are you back, George?", asked Ginny, a bit frustrated.
"I left one of my eyebrows.", he said, pointing at the place where he had been standing before.

A small, brown tuft of hair was hung in air, performing somersaults. George caught it and placed it in the right position.
"Goodbye."

He disapparated.

Harry carefully transferred the Box of Requirements to the bosom of the cupboard containing most of his and Ginny’s prized possessions- brooms, books, invisibility cloak, letters from friends and relatives, files related to work and much more. Then headed towards his room, accompanied by Ginny. After the extraordinarily pleasant phase, they needed some rest.
“Where’s Lily?”, Harry asked, looking at the wall clock.
“In her room.”, answered Ginny, yawning.
“Good… I don’t want my children to go through what I am undergoing now or whatever I have suffered in the past.”, Harry muttered, as he lay down in his bed. He had suddenly remembered his meeting with Kingsley at three o’clock.
“Even I want the same.”, came Ginny’s sleepy voice from his let.
“D’you know Ginny, I am a bit nervous about the meeting with the minister. Maybe because we are going to discuss about my scar and Voldemort after a very long time. I am not sure. In fact, I have a feeling that history is going to repeat itself, not wholly or in full measure, but partly. What do you say?”

There was no reply. Harry turned his head to his left lazily. Ginny had slept. Even while sleeping, she looked exceptionally suave. Harry stroked her hair lightly for sometime, then rolled on to his sides and slept.

When Harry awoke the next morning, it was already quarter past eleven. The room was full of sunlight that filtered through the fine curtains. The windows were wide open and the fragrance of the never-drying-roses added beauty to the pleasing ambience of the room. There were voices from the kitchen downstairs. Harry strained his ears. Apart from Ginny, he could hear two other people speaking, a man and a woman. The male voice was husky while the female spoke sweetly.

“I completely agree with you, Ginny. I am also concerned about Harry. I really don’t want it to happen all over again.”, spoke Hermione, as Harry entered the kitchen.
“Nor do I, Hermione, but you see, Harry’s scar burned again. It may be an indication of the perilous times we are about to encounter shortly.”, said Ron, fear and anxiety clearly etched in his face.
“Even I was thinking the same.”, spoke Harry, settling himself on the chair beside his wife and opposite to the Weasley couple, “When my scar used to hurt long before, it was always followed by a dangerous situation. I’m sure it is the same this time too.”
“But Harry”, spoke Hermione in a convincing way, “maybe everything is normal.”
“It is not… I am dead sure about it. I can feel it from every corner of my mind.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Ron interrupted.
“Remember the meting with the minister?”
“Yeah.”
“Do tell me what you’re doing about it?”
“Thinking about it."
“Oh.. That sounds great..”, smiled Hermione, bemused, “If thinking about problems would have driven them away, we would have become great thinkers by now.”

Harry had been disturbed the whole night by the worrying thoughts regarding the meeting. Thrice he had woken up in his sleep, unable to decide how to act in front of the minister. And now, Hermione’s sarcasm on top of it acted like a spark on a sack of gunpowder.
“Do you mind telling me Hermione, what on Earth is the problem with the meeting?”, he spoke, outraged.
"The problem is not with the meeting, Harry. The problem is that you don't know what you have to speak there. You don't remember your dream clearly. You don't know the reason for your scar hurting again after nineteen years."
"It's not my fault that I don't remember all this. You are unnecessarily making a mountain of a mole hill."
"What? I am making mountain of a mole hill? You don't-"

"STOP...WILL YOU??"

It was Ginny who had interrupted this time. She had stood up and was looking terribly angry with both of them. Her hair was tied neatly into a bun, showing a smouldering face with wide cheeks.
“What do you think? All problems will flutter off if you yell like anything?”
“Of course not.”, spoke Ron, irritated. He had pulled up his sleeves and was firmly holding his mug containing pumpkin juice, “I don’t understand why you are fighting like kids when we should be as grave as a judge in this sort of situation?”

The words seemed to seep in. Immediate effect was seen on Harry and Hermione, who, breathing heavily, retired to their chairs. For some minutes, which appeared long hours to Ron, nobody spoke. It was as though they were playing the game of keeping quiet-the longer, the better. Ginny, meanwhile cleaned up the table, keeping an alert eye on Harry, as if she expected him to pounce again on Hermione, who sat completely absorbed in her thoughts, too busy to speak. Harry, however, kept on muttering something under his breath.

Suddenly-
“Open? But what Harry?, spoke Ron, a bit confused.
“Are you imagining things?”, growled Hermione, “Nobody spoke anything.”
“He did. He did it just now. Didn’t you hear?”
“No, we didn’t.”, whispered Ginny. She was looking as if swallowed a big boiled potato.
“How can y-“, muttered Ron angrily. And then he understood. He remembered something which made him shift nervously in his chair.
“He spoke in parseltongue.”, he said grimly.

By the time the statement could penetrate the women’s mind, Ron had darted towards Harry. Ginny and Hermione exchanged frightened looks. Then turned towards Harry. He was looking dangerous. His whole body had stiffened. His nostrils flared and his eyes were bloodshot. His lips were white and he was hissing madly.

It took around twenty minutes to calm Harry down, after which Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked terribly exhausted and frightened. Harry lay motionless on the floor. His eyes were closed, lips were dry and his hand appeared cold when Ron touched it. Ginny started sobbing. Hermione hugged her in consolation and patted her softly on her head.
“A-aah”

Harry opened up his big, swollen up eyes. With some difficulty, he sat upright and faced the three of them, who looked back, awkwardly.
“W-what happened to me?”, he asked softly.
“You went completely rigid. We thought you were having fits or something because you appeared frightening, and yes, you were continuously speaking the word open. I don’t know why but I would like to.”

“It was a dome like structure. Something small, in which I was trapped and wanted to come out”, Harry said immediately “and”, he said after a few deep breaths, “this is what I remember.”

The room fell silent at once. Ginny stopped sobbing. Her eyes, red and swollen, focused themselves at Harry, who was too frail to speak anything else at the moment. Hermione, close to tears, sat upright, with one hand resting on Ginny’s shoulder and the other one clapped to her mouth. She seemed to have forgotten her quarrel with Harry and was looking at him tenderly. Ron was sitting with legs crossed, his red hair covering his eyes and both hands holding Harry firmly. He was looking tensed, for his forehead was now marked with wrinkles, clearly expressing fear mixed with anxiety.
“Look.”, Harry spoke suddenly, gazing towards the ceiling.

A big, black owl with yellow eyes and a small, grey beak was hovering a foot above them. Its chest was puffed with indignation and an envelope was tied to its legs. When Ron tried to take it from the bird, it bit his finger.
“Idiot.”, snapped Ron, as he pressed his finger between his lips.
“It’s addressed to you Harry. Maybe its you who can take it from the bird.”, spoke Hermione, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Harry stretched his hand and untied the envelope from the owl’s legs. Being relieved of the burden, it flew out of the window. Harry looked at the envelope. Neatly, in black ink, was scribbled-

Mr.Harry Potter
Scar Cottage,
17, Paverell Avenue,
Godric’s Hollow.

Harry ripped open the envelope and took out the yellow piece of parchment. He unfolded the paper and read-

Dear Mr. Potter,
This is to kindly inform you that the time for your meeting with the minister has been altered. The meeting has now been scheduled at two o' clock.
Hoping for your cooperation.
Yours sincerely,
Lavender Brown
Senior Undersecretary
Ministry of Magic.

Harry folded the letter carelessly and turned to look at the clock. He felt something sinking in his throat. It was as though a bottle full of energizer had been emptied down his food pipe. He stood up suddenly.
“Gimme my cloak, Ginny”
“Why? What happened?”
"I have to immediately reach the ministry. The minister has changed the time for the meeting to two o’ clock and it’s already fifty minutes past one.”
“But why the change?”, asked Ron, standing up.
“No idea. But must be something important.”, he replied, putting his cloak on, “Are you coming with me?”
“What? Yeah sure..”. replied Ron, a look of disbelief in his face.
“Let’s go then.”, ordered Harry, moving towards the mantelpiece.

Both of them picked up something grey and powdery from a pot Hermione handed out to them and then stepped into the fireplace.
“Ministry of Magic.”, they shouted, as they threw the floo powder on the half burnt wood.

Bright green flames erupted from the ashes and surrounded them completely. Harry felt sliding down a long funnel, with Ron beside him, both feeling a fractional choking sensation. Then the flames extinguished and a sweet female voice greeted them as they stepped out of the fireplace-

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic."

Chapter Four
THE MEETING

They were standing in a colossal room. Harry looked around. It was almost cylindrical in shape, with a light hemispherical roof, showing a magnificent painting of an enormous dragon, which kept changing into a beautiful maiden and back to its original form. The maiden had a charming face. She was dressed in puce colored velvet and her hair was blonde and silky. The walls and floor of the hall were made from glass, thereby giving a slippery, glossy look. The only difference was that the walls kept on displaying the names of people inside the ministry with their exact locations. Harry read-

Mr. Harry Potter
The Hall
1:54pm
32.33 meters due south-west from the entrance
2.56 meters due east from the lift

Mr. Ronald Weasley
The Hall
1:54 pm
32.33 meters due south-west from the entrance
2.27 meters due east from the lift

Harry was fascinated by this. Fourteen years had passed since he had joined the ministry and yet he had never got time to visit the main building. Afterall his work was such. Being in the Department of Magic Inspection and Interpretation, Harry had to spend most of his time touring other countries to inspect and interpret the magical rules and regulations being followed. Also, he had to visit many muggle inhabited areas to check out for the presence of any sort of magic stuff. It was not so difficult for Harry as he had spent his starting years with muggles and so he knew how to behave and converse with them.

His recent visit of four days, from 4th to 7th October, was to Privet Drive, now the most populated muggle inhabited area in London. There, Harry had stayed in a hotel, had worn muggle clothes and had spent full four days without using his wand. He also visited number 4, formerly Dursley’s house, with which, most of his childhood memories-though a bit bitter-were associated. It was now the residence of Mrs. And Mr. Symonds, an elderly couple. The other days, when he didn’t have a tour, he preferred staying at home, dealing with charts and reports related to his visits. The main reason was that he missed his family when he was out of his home for days. Therefore, when he met them after a considerable period of time, he wanted to spend some moments with them.

Harry was impressed to see what mystery did the ministry had in store for him. In his excitement, he nearly forgot that he was to meet Kingsley shortly. It was only when the clock on the walls displayed 1:55pm that Harry remembered the task for which he was there.
“Oh no, Ron, we’ll be late.”, he muttered, sprinting towards the lift, dragging Ron by his arm.

Harry and Ron stuffed themselves in the elevator, already crowded with around twenty people. Five official memos hung in the air. The grills of the lift slammed shut and with a jerk, it started moving upwards.
“Good afternoon Harry and Ron.”, greeted a tall and dark-haired man from their right. He was wearing red coloured robes and was looking tired. The pockets of his robes were full of rolls of parchment and he carried a leather file under his left arm.
“Hello Dean! How’re you? And….what’s that?”, asked Ron, pointing at the file.

In reply to this, Dean lifted up his hand and showed them the leather cover of the file. A small label on it read confidential.
“That’s confidential Ron….By the way, where are you two heading for?”
“We’re up to the minister for a meeting.”, spoke Harry, a bit irritated by Dean’s reply.
“But-"
“That’s confidential, Dean.”, added Ron, his face crossed.
“But the-“

Ron pretended to yawn. His mouth opened for a moment and then he winked at Harry, who winked back, smiling.
“But the min-"

A jerk, and the lift stopped. The grills opened and a hoarse male voice echoed through the narrow alleyway that came into view-

The Official Department
Office of the Minister of Magic.

Harry and Ron stepped out, followed by an official memo, which zoomed straightaway into the depth of the passage. They gave a goodbye nod to Dean, who was still trying to complete his statement. But the grills closed again and seconds later the lift shot up.
“Thank god we got rid of the stupid but-fellow”, spoke Ron angrily. “Confidential, huh.. what was-"

Ron stopped in the middle of his statement. He had noticed something, or in fact, someone. A thin lady with a black hat and mustard colored robes was walking towards them. Her hair was tied into a pony and she was carrying a piece of paper. Lavender Brown looked at Ron with disgust. Then faced Harry.
“I am extremely sorry, Mr. Potter. But the minister has just now left.”
“Left?”, Harry shouted, shocked, “Left for-”
“Hogwarts.”
“Hogwarts?”
“Hogwarts. This official memo says this. It’s from the minister. He has asked you to wait for sometime till he returns. Something really important is to be discussed.”

Harry could not understand how to react at this sudden anticlimax. He stood there, hands in his pocket, apparently gazing at Lavender. She appeared as though giving a sneak-peak to Ron, who looked red with anger, his hands crossed and feet far apart.
“Let’s go and wait in my office till the minister returns.”, suggested Ron after about fifteen minutes, trying to avoid Lavender’s eyes as she was now gazing intently at him.
“Yeah.”, answered Harry, “Let’s go.”

Harry and Ron headed towards the lift and adjusted themselves along with seven other people. The lift shot up again and they saw floor after floor passing past them in the wink of an eye. The lift stopped at each floor, accompanied by entry and exit of witches and wizards and also some official memos. By the time the lift came to a halt at the Department of Animagi Welfare , there was only one fat lady left in the lift apart from Ron and Harry.

They stepped out of the lift. A brightly lit corridor with granite flooring and a transparent roof welcomed them. Through the roof, they could see the sky, the lightest shade of blue. Harry and Ron walked lazily through the corridor. The walls were painted green, thereby giving an impression of being in a forest. The third door to the right had a crimson strip on which, in silver letters was written-

Ronald Weasley
Senior Incharge
Registration Wing
Department of Animagi Welfare

Ron rummaged in his pockets and came out with a small silver key. He unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped inside. Harry followed him.
The room was neither too big nor too small. It was just sufficient for a senior incharge to hold his important meetings. The inside was draped in orange velvet. A writing desk stood in the middle of the room, with a revolving golden chair on one side and three silver chairs on the other. On the table, lay a huge stack of files with a quill and an inkpot beside it. The walls were vividly decorated with portraits of many animagi, displaying their transformation. Beneath each photograph was pinned a small piece of parchment, scribbled on which was their names. In front of the table was a fireplace with some half-burnt pieces of wood, covered in ash. On the mantelpiece was kept a chessboard and a photograph showing Ron, Hermione, Hugo and Rose. Above the mantelpiece was a square shaped window.

Ron headed straight for the window while Harry made for the table. He settled himself in one of the silver chairs and sighed deeply. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he had a feeling that something odd was to occur shortly. He tried to concentrate on something else, and-
..…He was in a damp and dimly lit room. The walls were covered in mosses and lichens. There was a lamppost in one corner, with a chest of drawers beside it. Harry was lying flat on his belly. His head was bent low and he felt his lower half trapped inside something. With slow and smooth movements, he managed to free himself and fell flat on the rough floor.
“Welcome Inigan.”, came a squeaky voice.
Harry looked up. A meaty man with a dusky face and skin tight grey trousers looked back at him. He was looking very happy, as though one of his heartiest desires had come true.
“The much awaited moment has come at last.”
He moved towards Harry, limping slightly. He came nearer. His hand caught him from the waist…..

Harry realized he was being shaken wildly by Ron, who was perspiring. As soon as he realized that Harry was back to normal, he released him. Both of them looked into each other’s eye for some minutes, then Ron cleared his throat.
“It’s bad, Harry.”, he spoke in a Hermione-ish sort of tone.
“ I know, but still I’m being pulled into it.”
“Why don’t you try to block it.”
“I do… But I think I am loosing my grip on it.”

There was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”

A pretty girl with waist length hair and round face entered the room. Se was dressed in the most appealing shade of pink. Her blue eyes rolled from one side to the other, as she walked slowly towards the table. Se carried a small book in her hand. Its cover was completely worn and shabby and the pages appeared yellowish. She approached Ron.
“Mr. Weasley, this is the book you asked me to bring from Mr. Lawson.”
“Yeah, right. Thank you Adriane. You may go now.”, spoke Ron, suddenly assuming authority.

The girl called Adriane gave a nod and turned. After she had closed the door behind her, Harry spoke-
“So, evolving into a reader?”
“Not exactly.”, smiled Ron, understanding the sarcasm in Harry’s tone. “It’s related to work. Have a look.”

Harry took the book in his hands. Surprisingly, it appeared as heavy as a huge boulder. Harry tried to figure out the cause, but couldn’t. He then looked at the dirty cover. In small black letters was written-

The Little Giant Book of Greek Mythology

“But why on Earth do you need to study Greek mythology?”, asked Harry, handing over the book to Ron.
“ You’re not getting it, Harry. I don’t want to study about Greek mythology. I just want to read about Proteus."

He flipped the book open and ran his finger through the contents.
“Ah… Here it is…”, he said, smacking his lips as he started turning pages, while Harry sat in complete bewilderment, wondering what codswallop would be Proteus.
“Read it, Harry”, came Ron’s voice from across the table. Harry bent forward to have a good look at the article and read-

PROTEUS: A LEGENDARY ANIMAGUS
The term ‘Animagus’ is used to describe the wizards who can become an animal and still retain magical powers. This ability to transform into an animal is as old as legend. In Greek mythology, Proteus was one of the first wizards to display this ability. He was the servant of Poseidon, god of the oceans. Proteus enjoyed a special talent: the full knowledge of past and present along with the knowledge of al sort of spells and charms. He is known to be the first and the last magicomniscient in the wizarding world. (Magic-the use of mysterious and supernatural powers to influence events: Omniscient-knowing everything). But this specialty of his often landed him in trouble. As he knew all spells and charms, other wizards and witches used to approach him for help. Though he got a fair payment for each spell, he did not like being surrounded by people, while he sat like some greatly revered patron. He soon found a way to avoid this. To get away from people he would quickly transform into a variety of animals and terrifying creatures…

Ron closed the book. Harry looked at him, bit confused. He still could not figure out the need to read about Proteus. Ron, as if understanding Harry’s confusion, spoke-
“My assistants, Adriane Charday and David Fletcher accounted me their encounter with a strange person on their visit to London suburbs. As soon as that man saw these two, he started firing spells at them. According to Adriane and David, he used spells that they hadn’t even heard before. Due to this ignorance, they didn’t know any counter spell, so all they could do was to flee. Afterwards, I was told by the minister about magicomniscients and Proteus too. So I wanted to read it to get deeper into the matter. Got it now?”

Harry nodded silently. He thought he had heard of the word magicomniscient before.

VRROOOOOM
An official memo zoomed in. Ron caught the paper even before it could land on the table, flipped it open and analyzed it.
“He is back, Harry. Let’s go.”

And saying this, he got up. Harry got up slowly from his seat, still thinking exactly when and where did he hear the word magicomniscient. He saw the impatient look on Ron’s face and sped up. Soon they were heading for the official department.

As they entered Kingsley’s office, Harry felt a strange desire to withdraw and not discuss anything with the minister. He felt it would be an insult to his thoughts to share them with a person who had never before been a part of his thought sharing activity. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were the only people enjoying this special position in Harry’s life. And now, he had to discuss things with Kingsley. The idea appeared a bit hastily planned. But then, Kingsley Shacklebolt was the minister of magic. It would do no good to them if he didn’t inform him about his recent experiences; perhaps the matter would get worse. But still, he had never ever before shared…..

Harry jerked his head. He had made up his mind. He would tell each and every bit of whatever little he remembered.
“Good afternoon, minister.”, spoke Ron.

Harry hastily glanced at the clock. It was half past three. Harry looked around. The room was magnificently decorated with what appeared like feathers, thereby giving a pleasing appearance. Portraits of old ministers of magic were hung on the walls. Harry recognized Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour, grinning and waving at them. To Harry’s utter surprise, Albus Dumbledore smiled at them from a portrait behind Kingsley’s desk. He was in purple robes, his long white beard hung loosely and the half moon spectacles perched delicately on the crooked nose. On an enormous wooden chair, sat Kingsley Shacklebolt, the longest serving minister of magic. He appeared dull and tired.
“Please sit.”


Harry and Ron took the seats opposite to him. The minister now appeared muttering something under his breath. As Harry looked at the clock once more, he wondered whether Kingsley would ever talk directly to them, instead of talking to himself. After exactly fifty seven seconds, Kingsley spoke-
“Mr. Potter…. Mr. Weasley…I know that various types of questions must be swelling up in your minds, such as why did I change the time of the meeting? Why did I leave without even meeting you? What was my purpose of visiting Hogwarts? Etc. etc.. Am I right?”
“Yes.”, spoke Harry and Ron, together.
“As a reply to your queries, I would like you to see these papers,”, he said, taking out a leather file from the drawer, “which I gave to Dean Thomas to keep confidentially till I return.”

Harry threw a sideways glance at Ron, who was already looking at him from the corner of his eye. Kingsley had just opened his mouth to speak again, but Harry interrupted.
“Excuse me, minister. Can you just give me a brief idea as to what information do these papers contain?”

Kingsley stiffened. His eyes met Harry’s. Both kept looking into each other’s face for sometime, then Harry lowered his gaze. It was as though Kingsley had been stung, or had been asked to do a task which he didn’t want to do.
“These are letters,”, he said, after considering Harry thoroughly, “from Hogwarts. I am really sorry to say but they contain grave news

CHAPTER FIVE
THE MARK

Harry’s insides did a somersault. He felt his blood running cold in his veins. Tiny droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead and he, too stunned to pretend himself normal, did not wipe them off. He could hear Ron muttering something to him in a low tone, but he didn’t make any efforts to listen it. He just wanted to listen to the news, or rather the grave news that Kingsley knew.
“Can I see those papers, minister?”, he said, half-a-minute ago.
“Yes, Mr. Potter.. This is the one which made me change the meeting time.”, he said, handing over a piece of parchment to Harry. With slightly shaky hands, he took the letter from the minister and read-

Minister,
This is to inform you about a terrifying incident that happened in the school few minutes ago. Albus Severus Potter was found in a semi-rigid condition in his herbology class. According to Professor Neville Longbottom, it was around 1:15pm when Albus began to act strangely. His body became rock-rigid and he began hissing in the most frightening manner. At around 1:35pm, teachers were able to calm him down.

This is a matter of great concernand being the headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I strongly recommend a thorough examination of the matter. Moreover, I am not able to decide how to communicate this to Harry and Ginny. Therefore, I request you to please inform them about this happening and ask them not to panic. The situation is under control now.
Minerva Mcgonagall

Harry felt a sickening dryness in his throat. His mind went blank, leaving him completely shocked. He wanted to say something, but words seemed stuck in his bosom. He didn’t know how to act- to yell at the minister for not informing him before or to rush home and inform Ginny about the sudden crash of his dream of letting their children lead a tension- free life.
“Hey Harry, it was the same period of time when you got the fits in your house. I’m sure there is a connection between these two events.”, said Ron, after examining the letter thrice.
“And what about the second letter minister?”, asked Harry, summoning some strength, without paying even the least amount of attention to Ron’s remarks.
“This one compelled me to go to Hogwarts.”, Kingsley replied, looking expressionless.

Minister,
Albus Severus Potter’s right hand has turned ash grey. It’s quite sinister and no one at Hogwarts is able to devise a cure for it. I, therefore, request you to please come and see to the matter yourself or send someone else who can effectively bring the boy’s hand back to normal. Do act soon.
Minerva Mcgonagall

Harry read and re-read the letter many times. He could not think of anything to do. Finally, he asked-
“How is my son, minister?”

He felt a drop of tear descend slowly from each eye to his cheeks. He made no effort to stop it. Ron tried to comfort him.

Ginny and Hermione were still in the kitchen when Harry and Ron entered the house one hour later. Ginny was weeping over Hermione’s shoulder, one hand performing the task of wiping the tears even before they could complete their full course, while the other holding a coffee mug delicately. Hermione’s face was also a bit too tensed. Though her lips were tightly shut to prevent crying, Harry could clearly see the swarm of tension in her mind in the form of three vertical lines on her forehead and a sea of tears in her eyes covering almost half of the beautiful brown eyeballs. Harry could think of no way to convey the grave news to them. Ron, however, took the lead.
“Erm… I’ve something d-d-depressing for you.”
“What’s more depressing than my husband and son suffering from seizures and I, sitting helpless in my kitchen like a good-for-nothing woman?”, said Ginny, suddenly getting up from the chair, letting the mug fall on the floor with a crash. She started crying.
“So you know about-“

Harry signaled him to stop. He had seen James’ letter lying flat on the table. He didn’t want to discuss other things. Much more important things were to be discussed. He walked four steps towards the table, close enough to hold out a hand and feel his wife’s trembling body.
“Ginny.”, he said softly.

As if waiting for her name to be called out, Ginny flung herself in her husband’s arms and held him tightly.
“What will happen now, Harry? I don’t want my family to suffer. But I’m helpless. Being a mere housewife solves nothing.”

She was crying bitterly now. Even Hermione could not retain her composure and broke into soft, uncontrollable sobs. Ron hugged her. Both couples wept for a long time. Then finally, they broke apart, almost together, for their eyes had caught sight of it.

Something large and silvery came falling down the skylight. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the four of them, who shifted some steps back, waiting to witness what would happen next. The patronus opened its mouth wide and spoke in the slow and hoarse voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
“Reach Hogwarts immediately. It’s urgent.”

As the cat vanished, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, stunned. Everyone felt alike. A feeling of rebirth of dark magic threatened their wits.
“Come on, Harry. Let’s go.”, urged Hermione, speaking up for the first time after their return from the ministry.

With this, she held Ron with one hand and Harry with the other. Ginny also did the same. A swift movement, and they vanished.

A cool breeze brushed Harry’s hair as they apparated outside Hog’s Head. The small pub was now completely in ruins. The front door was totally broken and the peeled of paint gave the impression of a collage made from newspaper cuttings. Harry remembered the times they had spent in it. Te first official meeting and the formation of the Dumbledore’s Army took place in it. It was the same place which led them to Hogwarts through Ariana’s portrait. This very same building witnessed the presence of Aberforth for years. Harry glanced around and felt a tickling sensation around his Adam’s apple. Even in this grave situation, he could not resist a smile.
“Lumos”

Their wand tips illuminated with a brilliant blue light as they started walking steadily on the narrow street leading to Hogwarts. The moon shone faintly from between the tree leaves. The night was very still. Now and then voices and laughter came from the native huts, or the cry of some strange animal was heard from the midst of mystery of darkness. Nocturnal insects appeared in ghostly fashion out of the darkness and fluttered round their wand lights.
“Isn’t it Shrieking Shack?”, came Ginny’s voice from the extreme right and Harry nodded, remembering the night when he had met his godfather in the same building. The next moment, his thoughts carried him to the night when he had seen Voldemort kill Snape. He came out of it only when Hermione spoke after a couple of minutes.
“We’re nearly there.”

As they walked further, Harry’s mind started racing. He began to think about Kingsley’s patronus, the urgency that could be felt in his voice as he beckoned them to Hogwarts. All of them moved slowly now, their minds heavy with the thoughts of the event which they were going to witness shortly. They crossed a hedge as they came into a clearing. And there it was. Perched atop a high mountain in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.


A back-to-home feeling engulfed Harry. Hogwarts, the name echoed in his mind like some very powerful spell which had bonded his heart and soul to the place. He looked at the other three. They also, were feeling the same, for they looked equally delighted. Harry remembered the course of events that had taken place when he, along with others, was a student in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was eleven, a skinny, good-for-nothing boy when he had arrived at school. It was here only that he had developed his personality. This place had helped him transform from nothing to everything. This was the place where he had met some very special people in his life- Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Lupin, Snape, Moody, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Flashes of past zoomed in his mind. In his first year at Hogwarts, he had rescued the philosopher’s stone from the bosom of the castle. His second year was marked with a fight with the legendary monster of the chamber of secrets. Here only he had saved his godfather, the then called prisoner of Azkaban, from dementors. It was the very same school in which he had been chosen a contestant in the Triwizard tournament by the Goblet of Fire. With the help of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army, he had managed to escape from Voldemort in his fifth year, but lost Sirius in the attempt. The book of the Half Blood Prince had helped him top the potions class and with knowledge of the deathly hallows and horcruxes, he had been able to kill Voldemort. All this had happened in the same very castle in front of which they were now standing as parents of some students of Hogwarts. Times had changed, generations had changed, all had changed, but Hogwarts had not. They looked at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they moved nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
“Harry.”, a loud voice hit their eardrums. They turned right to look at a dark-haired wizard, dressed in black, walking hurriedly towards them.
"How is my son, Neville?”, asked Ginny immediately.
“Come with me.”

They walked few steps before reaching the front doors, which stood ajar. They stepped into the Great Hall. It was same. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches and floating candles. The ceiling was too high to make out and a magnificent marble staircase led to the upper floors. The four house tables were set in the same manner as before. The only difference was that an enormous portrait of Albus Dumbledore covered the wall behind the staff table. Beneath the portrait, there was a caption.

I am always there when they need me, and even if they do not realize they need me.

As they advanced towards the staircase, Harry noticed a big banner hanging in mid-air just above the staff table. In big, bold letters on the banner was written something that made all of them stop and read it.

GRYFFINDOR: Where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.
HUFFLEPUFF:Where they are just and loyal. Those patient hufflepuffs are true.
RAVENCLAW:If you have a ready mind, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind.
SLYTHERIN:Those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends.

Various types of paintings and portraits hung on either side of the staircase. Some of them were occupied while the others were not. The marble floor seemed recently swept, for it was smooth and shiny. Floors by floors they passed until they reached a wooden staircase that led to the hospital wing. Suddenly, Ginny gripped Harry’s hand. She was shaking. Even Harry’s heart had started beating very fast. With a mixed emotional condition of fear and anxiety, they entered the hospital wing.

Rows and rows of beds welcomed them. A smell of recently burned tarragon leaves filled the air. In the far off corner of the room, stood a bunch of grim looking people. They walked towards them.
“Out of the way. Out of the way.”, came a voice from behind them, and seconds later, they saw madam Pomfrey dashing towards the bed wit a goblet full of colorless, odorless liquid. She looked too old now, but still she had the same energy as before.

On a bed covered with white linen sheets, lay Albus Severus, motionless, his face pale and eyes closed. Beside him, on a table, were kept a huge mount of chocolates and flowers. Had it not been for the sound of breathing, Harry would have considered him dead. Albus’ right wrist was covered in a white muslin cloth. It just seemed an ordinary injury. But if it was, what on Earth was the use of calling them all the way from Godric’s Hollow? There was definitely something else, which they didn’t know. Professor McGonagall, as if understanding the disturbed state of their minds, spoke-
“Potter, I can see that you are dying to know why we have called you here.”

Harry looked at her. Her face was straight. Wrinkles covered the cheeks just like the grass in the grounds. Her thin lips curled back and forth as she gazed at them with intent sympathy. Behind her stood Parvati Patil, Neville, some unknown people, and to Harry’s utter surprise and dismay, Gregory Goyle.
“Potions master.”, hissed Hermione in his ears.
“What! He is-"
“What has happened to my son, Professor?”, Ginny asked McGonagall, half crying.
“Your son, Albus Severus, has been b-b-branded.”

Ginny gasped.
Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth.
Ron coughed.
Harry looked up. A sense of nothingness enveloped him. He felt that he had lost everything. His son branded. That was definitely something which shook Harry’s insides vigorously, and others’ too, for Ron spoke to Kingsley, almost shouting-
“But how can it be? Voldemort is dead. And so is his mark. How can Albus be branded with the Dark Mark?”
“It’s not the Dark Mark this time. It’s something else about which we all don’t know. Have a look.”

And with this, he began to untie the bandage on Albus’ wrist. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione lurched forwards to see it and immediately stepped back, terror struck, eyes wide and mouth open. They had seen it, and they knew about it.

It was a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

CHAPTER SIX
FATHER AND SON

When immediate danger threatens, its hard to think of other possibilities. Harry felt his fingers and toes getting numb, goosebumps appeared on the back of his neck and he staggered a bit before coming back to normal. Then looked at others. They were looking back at him with similar expressions. Harry could not decide whether to tell Kingsley and others about their knowledge of the mark. Hermione, however, was too quick for the decision.
“We know about this mark, minister.”

Kingsley looked as if asked to breed Blast-ended skrewts. McGonagall’s eyes widened. Her lips curled further until there was just a thin line left in their place. Neville and Parvati appeared as tough stung. Others looked frightened too.
“What did you say?”, asked Kingsley in a terrified tone.
“I said that we know about this mark.”
“Why? I mean how?”

Hermione looked at Ron. He had assumed a what-are-you-doing look. Ginny was looking confused, perhaps at Hermione’s swiftness. Harry, on the other hand, looked calm. He had made up his mind.
“Yes, minister. Hermione is right. We know about this mark on Albus’ wrist. It was nineteen years ago that we came to know about it, the year we were supposed to attend our seventh year at this school.”, he stopped to look at others. “We have seen this mark many times. In the book Professor Dumbledore left for Hermione, on Xenophilius Lovegood’s clothes at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, on Ignotus Paverell’s grave at Godric’s Hollow and now on Albus’ wrist.”
“Harry, what is this actually?”, asked McGonagall, fear and anxiety clearly etched in her voice.
“Grindelwald’s Mark”, a husky male voice echoed from behind them.

Harry spun on the spot. So did the others. A big, meaty man with velvet robes walked in. He had very small hair. like recently trimmed grass, a french cut beard and looked terribly serious. It was Ron's chance to react.
"Krum??"

Viktor Krum came walking towards them in small, silent steps. He came and stood next to Harry and surveyed them carefully. His eyes stopped at Hermione.
"Hermy-o-nee Grranjer!! So good to see-"
"She is Mrs. Hermione Weasley now, Mr.Krum.", interrupted Ron, looking irritated.
Viktor frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it rapidly. Harry shook hands with Viktor.
"How come you're here?", demanded Ron.
"That's not important at this point of time. What's important now is the mark on this boy's wrist. So, Mr.Shacklebolt, this is Grindelvald's mark. Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a pupil there.
"But what does this mark mean?"
"It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.", Harry spoke aloud.

All noise ceased. The only sound that could be heard was the deep breathing of the listeners. McGonagall had stiffened, one hand stuck up oddly around her neck, and eyebrows narrowed. Neville was looking in complete bewilderment at Harry as if expecting to see something unexpected any moment. Goyle was looking like a freshly plucked pumpkin kept for boiling in hot water. Parvati had assumed a don’t-keep-us-waiting look. The other people were also looking utterly confused. Nobody, but the four of them, knew about the hallows, but everyone had sensed something sinister in Harry’s tone.

Kingsley moved slowly towards Harry and held him tightly by the shoulders.
“What are the deathly hallows, Harry?”
“The deathly hallows-”, began Harry, but at that instant, many things happened simultaneously. An owl hooted somewhere, they heard a distant sound like that of a blast, a sudden downpour of rain startled them all, and before anyone could get a grip over the situation, Albus Severus woke up, gripping his wrist firmly and screaming. At the same time, pain shot up in Harry’s scar as well. A momentary blur, and-

Harry was slithering-raindrops hitting him hard on his back-through what appeared a damp and muddy passage, strewn with leaves and flowers. All was dark, except a tiny dot of fluorescent light floating ahead of him as he crawled on the floor. Ahead of him, two people walked with slow, but heavy steps. One of them was a small boy. He was smartly dressed, looked frightened, and kept glancing back to look at Harry, but every time was pushed to move forwards by the second person. He was a big, meaty man with skin tight trousers and hair tied into a small ponytail. It was from his wand tip that the light was erupting. The man was telling something to the boy but Harry could not understand. He tried to grasp the contents of the conversation, but could not. It was as though they were talking in some unknown language. They came out into a clearing where only two trees stood; shading what looked like a very ancient looking box. The man moved straight towards the object, knelt down, folded his hands in prayer and started muttering something. The he turned to look at Harry and said,
“Come.”

At once, Harry moved towards him. He passed the boy, who was reading something written there. As Harry reached the place, a burning sensation filled his body and he realized himself being picked up and kept on the box. Then, the man bowed low to the box and spoke something, and to Harry’s surprise, he could understand his words.
“Inigan, this is the grave of the greatest wizard of all times, Lord Voldemort. This is the person whom your mother served the whole of her life. I hope you will not disappoint me by not respecting him. Will you serve him and finish the task he started?”
“Yes”

And with a jerk, Harry came back to reality.


His body was aching badly. He looked around. He was still in the hospital wing. The others were looking taller than him. Analyzing the situation, he realized that he lying on the floor, with people standing around him, some just staring, some whispering while some bending down to help him get up. Breathing heavily and legs trembling, he stood up and without even saying a single word to anyone, walked away from them, to the bed farthest from the rest and nearest to the door. Madam Pomfrey and Ron tried to stop him but he signaled them to stop.

Harry sat down on the bed. He tried to concentrate hard. This time the vision was perfectly clear, but he had lost track of the conversation. It was as though a muffliato charm had been cast over the place. He could remember two people, a boy and a man, a clearing with two trees and something in between. But the worst part of it was that he could not remember anything spoken there. No matter how hard he tried but every time the sound was absent. Weird, although it was, Harry decided to keep concentrating till he found some clue. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice someone walk up to him. He felt the presence when the person kept his palm on his shoulders and squeezed gently. Harry looked up. Albus Severus was looking at him, intently, tears streaming down his eyes.

“Dad, something odd is happening with me since the last four days. I don’t know what, but I’m having strange sort of visions. They are not like dreams. I feel that they are, more or less, real. And, whenever it happens, my wrist pains excruciatingly. The previous visions used to be blurred. But the one I have encountered just now is very clear. D’you know wha-“
“Yes, Albus, you’ve seen two people walking through rain wile you trailed behind them One of them was a big man and the other was a small boy and y-”
“No, dad. I didn’t see this. I mean, I did see a part of this, that is, I saw two bodies, and I also saw the big man, but I never saw a boy. Instead, there was a huge snake which kept crawling behind us. We were in some sort of a forest and then we reached a place where there was a big rectangular stone. On a smaller stone standing vertically on it, was written something like Tom Morlova, no, Tom Morvala, no, just a minute…Yes…Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry’s insides churned vigorously. Why did he see a boy while Albus did not? Why did Albus see a snake while he did not? What was the name of Voldemort doing on the stone?
And then, as if out of nowhere, it struck him. Harry and Albus were being pulled into two different brains, Harry in to a snake’s and Albus into a boy’s. But who were these two and what was their relation to them? Why did Albus get the Deathly Hallows mark on his wrist?

Ginny approached them, with James beside her.
“Mom, what is happening? I am afraid.”, croaked Albus.

James hugged his brother affectionately. He, for the first time ever, looked concerned for Albus. Suddenly, Harry saw a gleam of brightest blue in James’ eyes. For a second, the gleam remained, and then, faded, bringing the boy’s eyes back to normal.

Chapter 7
BURNING SECRET

A sultry, stifling midday. Not a cloudlet in the sky... The sun baked grass had a disconsolate, hopeless look- even if there were rain it could never be green again.... The forest stood silent, motionless, as though it were looking at something with its tree tops or expecting something. The pumpkin patch was gloomy, and so was the inside of Hagrid's hut. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting on massive, a bit too ornate chairs, each one of them holding something which looked like a burnt piece of wood. A meter away from them, beside a big copper vessel which kept gurgling, stood Hagrid, the half giant.

His stature had undergone innumerable changes in the nineteen years. His bushy beard and curly hair had turned from black to grey. His big eyes looked even bigger through the square framed spectacles. He seemed very less active than before and drooped under the combined weight of himself and the thick layer of clothing on his body.

The atmosphere inside the room was tensed. Hermione and Ron were talking in whispers, Ginny sat straight, eyes watery, apparently gazing at something. Harry, however, was absorbed in deep thought. He was thinking about the recent course of events in the hospital wing. Around twelve hours ad passed since their arrival at Hogwarts, but the vision , its explanation by Albus, the realization of occupying different souls and the gleam of blue in James’ eyes was so fresh in his mind as if it had happened just a minute ago.
“So, according to yeh, into whose mind is Albus being pulled?
“I have no idea Hagrid. I have never seen him, I mean, never seen is face. The only time I saw him was when I was into that snake’s mind and even at that time, the boy was walking ahead of me. So, I couldn’t see his face.”

Ginny shifted nervously in her chair.
“Harry I’m very afraid. Albus, my poor child is suffering so much and we’re unable to do anything. Isn’t there any source from which we can derive any information regarding this?”
“Just wait, Ginny, I think I have it, somewhere in my old records.”, said Hagrid, holding out one enormous cup of tea to each one of them.

The four pair of eyes turned to look at Hagrid as he walked to the farthest corner of the hut. He opened a cupboard and came out with a very old piece of parchment. He closed the cupboard carefully and returned with enormous steps.
“See this…I’m not sure but it may help.”
“Hagrid, I never knew you also maintained records. It’s simply-”

Ron stopped abruptly as Hermione gave her a will-you-shut-up look. She then seized the paper from Hagrid and flattened it on her lap. The paper was very old and torn from many places. From the print it appeared as a page from one of the ancient books. As Hermione began moving her finger on the writing and muttering, Ginny, Harry and Ron also bent to see the writing and read-

THE DEVIL’S MARK-
The Devil’s mark is one of the worst forms of marks that have been appearing in various forms since ages. This mark is supposed to play a very important role of communication between the devil and his supporters. As recounted by one of the medieval magical law practitioners, ‘the Devil makes a mark on them, especially those whose allegiance he suspects. The mark varies in shape and size: sometimes it is like a hare, sometimes like the foot of a toad, sometimes like a spider, a puppy, or any special symbol devised by the Devil himself. It is imprinted on the most secret parts of the body: men may have it under their eyelids or armpits, on the lips or shoulders. Women generally have it on their chests, thighs or neck. (Sometimes an exception can also occur when the mark is easily visible). The stamp that makes these marks is no less than the Devil’s talon. Many have often declared scars, birth-marks, warts or other blemishes to be the Devil’s mark.’

Hermione folded the paper silently, and then looked up at others. Everyone looked deeply engrossed in thoughts.
"I don't find anything very useful in this, do you?"
"You're right, Hermione. Even I think so.", agreed Ginny, a hopeless look on her face, "What do you say, Harry?"

Harry thought before saying anything. He revised the contents of the writing in his mind and said-
"I do agree with both of you-"
"But I don't", interrupted Ron, "I think that this paper gives us some information, which might be useful to us, not now, but maybe in future."
"What do you mean Ron? Please explain clearly.", demanded Ginny.

Ron said nothing. He just took the folded piece of paper from Hermione's hand, unfolded it and started examining. Harry looked at Ron with a look of disbelief in his face. As soon as he realised this, he tried to change his expression, fearing that Hermione might feel bad to see Harry doubting her husband. But when he saw that she, herself was wering the i-don't-believe-you look, he swiftly assumed the previous expression once again. Meanwhile, Hagrid had finished his tea and was now feeding a big piece of meat to Razor, his new pet Bordeaux mastiff. Harry also took the last sip and waited. Ron cleared his throat loudly.
"See, here it's written that 'the devil makes a mark on them, especially those whose allegiance he suspects'."
"So?"
"Lemme explain fully. Albus has been branded with a mark, right, and according to this text, a mark is made on those people who are suspected to be loyal to the Devil, by the Devil himself, similar to the dark mark concept on the wrist of the death eaters. So, i think that clears two things. First, a devil is already taking form and he needs supporters for his army. Speaking clearly, the Dark Magic has returned, in some or the other way. And secondly, the devilk, whoever he is, has chosen Albus as one of his supporters and that's why has branded him."
"Stop this nonsense, Ron. How can you draw conclusions without-"
"I've not finished yet, Hermione. Shut up and listen. It's a serious matter."

Hermione looked completely thrown off balance. She opened her mouth to argue, but Harry signalled her to stop.
"Thank you very much, Harry. So, I was talking about the devil and Albus. For just two minutes, keep this topic aside and read 'scars, birthmarks, warts....to be the devil's mark'. In our times, the devil was Lord Voldemort and it was Harry who had the scar on his forehead. If we relate to this text, Harry should have supported Voldemort, but he didn't. Can anybody tell me why?"
"Maybe because Voldemort had given me the scar unknowingly and unwillingly."
"That's exactly my thinking, Harry. So, if we put forward the conclusions, a mark, or a scar, made unwillingly or unknowingly by the Devil doesn't serve as the devil's mark. Instead, it becomes an anti-devil mark, just like Harry's scar. That's what I think. Now coming back to Albus, the-"
"But Ron, how can you say that the mark on Albus' wrist is a Devil's mark? It might be something else, something good."
"Ginny, don't forget that the mark is known as the Grindelwald's mark and Gellert Grindelwald was a supporter of Dark Magic. I am not saying that the devil's mark theory which I have put forward is hundred percent true. I am making just a wild guess, and who knows, my guess may turn out to be true. It may also be that the mark has some relation to Harry being the descendant of Ignotus Paverell, and since Paverell brothers were after the deathly hallows, maybe the quest continues with Albus. Many possibilities. Even I hope that it is something else, something good, but it's better to observe the situaton from different points, right?"

Ginny nodded, so did the other three.
“Thanks. So what I was saying, that it’s very important now, to keep an alert eye on Albus, to observe each and every movement of his, to know what he does or what he wants to do, to see whether he is acting of his own accord or under someone’s influence etc etc. What do you think Harry?”
“Well, I think-”

Just then, a sudden gust of wind startled all of them. The piece of parchment flew from Ron’s lap and landed near the fireplace. Razor started barking. Hagrid stood up, walked to the window and looked at the sky.
“Appears as if it’s gonna rain.”

Harry and Ron also joined him. The weather had changed suddenly. Half an hour ago there was not even a single cloudlet and now there was not even a small patch of clear sky. Dark clouds were massing and the trees were swinging as if performing mazurka.
“I think that you are right, Ron. We must keep an alert eye on Albus”, Harry patted Ron on his back, “but it will be a tough task. How will we keep track of all this? I mean, we may ask someone to look after Albus and his movements, but how will anybody know what is in his mind? As far as I know, I cannot think of any way to read his mind except legilimency, which none over here knows.”
“We’ll think of that later. First, talking about whom to ask to keep an eye on Albus, I think it would be good if instead of one person, four people, Hagrid, McGonagall, Neville and James would do it. We may get a more positive result then.”

At that moment, big raindrops started hitting the windowpanes.
“I think it’s really a good idea, Ron. Hagrid, will you please keep a look on my son, and inform us, if you observe something odd?”
“Yeah sure, Ginny. I would love to do it, and I would have done it even if you hadn’t asked me. And don’t worry, all will be fine. Fate cannot be so cruel to us.”
“Yes, Hagrid. You are right. And thanks for those kind words.”
“No problem, Ginny. I’ll always be there with you all.”
“Now let us go to McGonagall and others to ask for their help.”
“No, Harry. It’s not the right time. I mean, it’s raining heavily, and we can’t afford to leave the coziness of this room and go out in the cold.”
“What has happened to you, Hagrid?, spoke Hermione, almost shouting,” ever since
we have arrived here, you are behaving a bit differently from the way you used to before, when we were at school. Are you alright?”

Hagrid turned to face Hermione, so did the others. They both looked in each other’s eyes for some minutes, and then Hagrid lowered his gaze.
“It’s nothing Hermione. I’m okay.”
“If it’s nothing, why are you stopping us from going out? You know very well that, for us, at this point of time, comfort matters nothing compared to Albus’ safety. You used to be so courageous, Hagrid. Courageous enough to tame all sort of dangerous beasts and wander in the forbidden forest. Now all of a sudden, what has come over you? You are hesitating to go out in rain?”
“It’s nothing, Hermione. Everything is fine”, said Hagrid, as he took out a stick around one and a half feet long. He flicked it and all the tea cups arranged themselves neatly on the shelf.
“Blimey, Hagrid, you got a wand! Why? I mean how? And when? And what happened to your umbrella?”, Ron looked astonished, so did Harry, Hermione and Ginny.
“Er-g-got it somewhere. Now shall we proceed?”
“Okay. Let’s go.”, said Ron, a bit irritated at the neglect of his bunch of questions.

As they got up to leave and Harry opened the door, a gust of wind blew in and the piece of paper flew from the hearth and fell into the flames.
“Oye!”, cried Ron, as all of them ran to retrieve it.
No sooner did they reach the fireplace, than the flames turned green. Not ordinary green, but the brightest green anyone had ever seen. And to everyone’s shock and disbelief, the paper twisted and curled in the fire, but didn’t burn. Instead, it assumed a form, not too distinct, but it appeared a long rod supporting a bowl on the top. The figure turned and turned, and fell out of the fireplace. Hermione picked up the paper and flattened it on the table. The original contents had vanished, and the paper now supported a drawing of a torch, out of which green flames were erupting. Underneath the drawing, was a caption-

The Green Flame Torch, easily neglected, but extremely useful, to friend and foe alike


Written by:
Ankit Srivastava
E - Mail - go4ankit@sify.com
www.ankitharry1109.blogspot.com