The Last Great Secret

Chapter Seven: The Setup

Hermione closed her eyes as she entered the dimly lit living quarters. She could feel her own body tensing in anticipation of the confrontation that awaited her within. She knew that it must be done, but her heart longed to just leave it be for one more day. Focusing her resolve, she walked up behind the figure sitting at his desk.

"Hello, George."

George Weasley did not turn around to greet her. Instead, he remained stationed at his workbench.

"Evening, Hermione," George retorted coldly. "Tell me, what brings you down to my lab? Shouldn't you be haunting Oliver's bedchamber by now?"

Hermione remained calm, ignoring his stab. "I need to talk to you."

"The last time we talked, you told me that Harry and Ron were back from the grave." George refused to look at her. "Who will it be next? Ginny? Neville?"

"George!"

George turned slowly to face her, his face set like stone.

"I just saw Harry—again." Hermione closed her eyes and prepared for the onslaught.

"Oh, I'm sure Ollie is going to love to hear that," George sneered, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"George! You know how I feel about Harry and that I'd never do anything to purposely hurt Oliver!"

George sighed, his facial features relaxing slightly. "Yeah, I do. I remember what happened after Harry died … I had lost Ron, Ginny, Fred, Mum, and Dad to the cold arms of death … or so I thought, while Charlie and Bill had disappeared without a trace. You had lost your parents, Harry, my family … Hermione, we lost more friends and loved ones than we could ever recall. At that moment, you became my sister. We shared our loss together, just as families do. And like a brother, I warned you that it was too soon when I saw what was happening between you and Oliver. Unfortunately, my warning didn't stop you from shagging Oliver nearly every night since."

"I know," Hermione groaned, again ignoring his spiteful jabs. "I remember, but I really needed more. I needed to fill all the holes in my heart, and so did Oliver. I needed to feel as though I was alive, and I believed, just as you did, that Harry was dead."

"Hermione," George unlocked his wheelchair and rolled closer to her "Harry may be back in the flesh, but you and I both know that he had yet to die in your heart."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying her hardest not to cry. She still wasn't used to seeing George confined to a wheelchair or his cynical nature that seemed to spawn from it. His legs had been cursed off at the knees by dark magic. The healers had attempted to repair the damage, but it was no use.

"No tears for me," George deadpanned, touching her hand with his. "Save your tears for the war that Harry and his DA are about to begin."

Hermione opened her eyes and stared into eyes that were once filled with laughter and mischief.

"We, the Knights, are already at war with You-Know-Who's forces."

"No, Hermione. Up to now, we have been merely resisting. If the reports that I read from Diagon Alley are correct, the fall of Azkaban will pale in comparison to the hell that Harry will unleash with the help of his new DA."

Hermione measured her words. "George, Harry is definitely a great wizard, but what hell could he possibly cause?"

"Hermione … what if he unites the Hallows?" George asked firmly.

Hermione stomped her foot, turning away from him. "George! The Hallows aren't real!"

"And you know this how?"

"Logic!" Hermione shouted, turning back to face him. "Three objects created by Death. How is that logical?"

"It's not, but three magical objects created by the three greatest inventors of all time, the Peverell brothers, is completely logical and completely possible."

Hermione stared at George as though he had grown a second head.

"Before you say another word, Hermione, I have a book that you need to read."

George spun around and wheeled himself back to his workbench. Hermione followed him, her curiosity peaked. She watched as he sorted through several things on his desk before holding up a small book with leather bindings. He handed the book to her, and she opened it to the first page. There she found an inscription.

'Of All That Can Be Created, Only Knowledge, Wisdom, And Power Evades Us. Such Things Must Be Earned. I Know This Now, Though It Be Far Too Late For My Brethren And Me. Our Fate Is Sealed, And Our Price Will Be Paid By Death.'

'Agnotus Peverell.'

Hermione's jaw dropped as she contemplated the meaning, before reading on.

~~~TLGS~~~

"Where have you been?" Alice demanded as Harry strolled into the kitchen of the DA's headquarters.

"Ah, the beautiful Alice," Harry purred, taking a seat at the kitchen table and feeling a confidence that only knowledge could bring. "I'm flattered by your concern for my well-being. However, I do not believe that I be the wizard that demands your attention."

Alice shook her head and smiled. "Ya know, Mr. Potter, you are definitely an acquired taste. Tell me, were you like this before Azkaban?"

"Azkaban does things to a wizard. That, and the repeated tortures they put me through really helped me realize that if I ever saw the daylight again, I wouldn't be constrained by the useless principles that landed me there."

"And what principles do you speak of?"

Harry looked up to see Gregory enter the room, joining them at the table. "Ah, there he is. Gregory Smith … a wizard that demands attention."

"I beg your pardon," Gregory growled, Alice, turning a shade of pink.

"I just meant that you are the leader of the DA."

"Why is he in such an unnaturally good mood?" Colin asked, making his way into the kitchen. "Do in You-Know-Who while you were out?"

"That would be a good reason to feel this way, if it were true. Alas, that triumph is still to come." Harry shifted in his chair to make himself more comfortable. "To answer your question, Gregory, I shed the principles of the weak-minded the moment that prison door was opened for the last time. This may offend some, but Dumbledore in all his wisdom made me weak. He bound me by the belief in a thought process that was flawed. He made me believe that I was destined to defeat You-Know-Who. If I had simply fought for what was important, I would have won the first time around."

"What should you have fought for?" Alice asked.

"For love and for vengeance. The love of my friends would have given me the courage while vengeance would have given me the power."

"You know that if we overthrow Hogwarts, You-Know-Who will most definitely come for you again," Gregory interjected solemnly. "Are you prepared to face him again?"

"By the time I face You-Know-Who again, I will be ready," Harry growled, barely able to conceal his smirk.

Colin glared at him incredulously. "So, you still think that you can kill that bloody bastard?"

"I fully believe, Colin," Harry leaned forward in Colin's direction "that we can defeat the bloody bastard."

Other DA members entered the kitchen. Whether because of a meeting or because they heard the conversation and decided to join, Harry remained uncertain.

"Oh good, you're back." Arthur walked over, taking a seat at the table next to him.

"Did I miss something?"

Gregory glanced at Colin. "We need to finalize a plan that the majority of us can agree upon. We were going to wait until you returned to try and hash it out, but seeing that you don't feel the need to communicate—"

"Communicate?" Harry repeated. "You think you're going to sit there and give me a bloody lecture on communication?"

"We're on the same side, Harry."

"Are we, Arthur? That I'm not so certain of." Harry leaned back in his chair, fixing Gregory with a hard stare. "Tell me, Gregory … would you say that you've been fully forthcoming with me?"

A feeling of satisfaction spread through him as Gregory's face softened.

"Harry, you were in Azkaban for quite some time. It's only natural—"

"Natural, Malcolm?" Harry hissed. "What would you know about what's natural when it comes to Azkaban?"

"I've seen some pretty nasty things, Harry."

"Curse Breaker, right?"

"Correct," Malcolm replied, chewing the inside of his lip. "Worked at Gringotts—"

"Alongside Bill Weasley?"

Malcolm dropped his head. "Yes."

"Harry," Arthur interjected. "I don't know how you know this, but Malcolm has already told me. This isn't a secret to be overturned."

"Not overturning secrets, Arthur. Just gathering facts." Harry stood up and stretched. "It's clear to me that you lot know more about me than I about you. I've been a part of one-sided deals in the past. The last one landed me in Azkaban. Dunno about you, but I'm not into repeating my past mistakes."

Harry withdrew a small leather-bound book from inside his cloak. "Before we go any further, there is something that we need to address. That okay with you, Gregory?"

Gregory nodded but did not say a word. His eyes were fixed on Harry. Harry wondered if he had spied the title on the spine of the tiny book.

"Gregory, this is your home, correct?"

"Yes," Gregory replied, his eyes not leaving Harry's face.

"Tell me, who owned your home, before you?"

"My father."

"When your father died," Harry continued, noticing that the rest of the table had become still and silent, "where were his loyalties?"

"My father fought to defeat You-Know-Who during the First Wizarding War. He would have fought along-side you in the Second Wizarding War if he had lived."

"You're certain of this?" Harry pressed, his eyes transfixed upon Gregory's face.

"Yes, Harry. I'm certain. What's your concern?"

"This book," Harry held it up for the rest of the room to see "contains intimate details about the creation of magical contracts. It describes how they are created and how they can be modified. Did you know that contracts, including magical wills, can be compromised in a way that is similar to the Imperious curse?"

Gregory's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware."

"Harry, where did you get that book?" Arthur asked, adjusting his glasses to get a better look.

"From the Black Library in Grimmauld Place. That library is a treasure trove of magical knowledge—both light and dark."

"Do you believe that my father's home has been compromised?" Gregory asked, his eyes still locked upon Harry.

"There is a way to find out, but first I think that it is wise to confirm that you're indeed the owner of this estate."

Arthur started to say something, but Gregory held up a hand to silence him.

"How do we confirm that Gregory owns this residence?" Malcolm asked, glancing between Gregory and Harry.

"Simple. There is a charm that will reveal the owner of this residence." Without waiting for a response, Harry withdrew his wand and pointed it at the nearest door frame. "Portraiture Aperio Praesaepe!"

Words began to appear along the edges of the door frame. This is the residence of Gregory Allen Smith. Owner of properties in Hogsmeade and Albania. Harry turned back to the room to appraise the stunned look upon their faces. Even Gregory looked amazed.

"Were you aware that you owned properties in other places, Gregory?"

"I was aware of the place in Hogsmeade," Gregory replied, clearly weighing his words. "Though the place has been deemed unsafe since the fall of the Ministry. I wasn't aware of a residence in Albania, but then again, I didn't know my father all of my life. He and I only became closer aquatinted after I turned eleven."

Caleb cleared his throat. "What made you think that this place might be compromised?"

"First, I noticed that the portraits around here stay vacant for long periods. Then I remembered how the portrait of Finneus Nigelus Black used to flick between Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts. Being a former Headmaster, he had such privileges. This got me wondering where the portraits here were making off to." Harry waved the little book. "That's when I decided to do a little light reading."

"You think the portraits are spying?"

"No, Alice," Collin interjected, "He's worried whether the fireplaces are linked."

Harry smirked. "Both have me concerned, to tell the truth. Especially since Gregory was completely unaware of an Albanian residency."

"We will search out this Albanian residency immediately," Gregory stated. "Malcolm, can you tell if a fireplace is privately linked to another?"

"One of the first things I learned as a Curse Breaker was how to detect linked portals. A private floo shouldn't be too difficult."

"Excellent. Check all the fireplaces and see if any are linked. I'll search what little I have of my father's belongings tonight to see if there might be some reference to this Albania."

Harry enjoyed his game of cat and mouse. "Gregory, you said that you've only known your father since age eleven?"

The gathering around the table froze.

"That's correct."

"Then are you certain that your last name is Smith?" Harry absentmindedly flipped through the little book. "I mean, it's quite the common name. Could your father have changed it to protect his family?"

Gregory stared at Harry, his face becoming waxed. "Harry, let me assure you that I know my father's name."

Harry smiled, his eyes narrowed. "I believe you. Now, about Hog-"

"Should we wait until we've secured the house before we discuss our plans?" Colin interrupted, his eyes combing the kitchen.

Harry glanced over at Dumbledore's empty portrait. "I think that this room is fairly safe. That is to say, you planned your assault on Azkaban from here, and all went well."

"That's your idea of all going well?" Gregory growled.

"If I recall correctly, Gregory, none of yours died that day," Harry retorted coldly. "That's the best we can hope for these days. Now, you say that you have a place in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, but it's not secure. Nothing in Hogsmeade is. They've turned the whole village into a future training camp for Hogwarts graduates that wish to join the new Ministry. Propaganda everywhere to brainwash the students that will visit on weekends."

Harry leaned his head back. "Will the school resume on September 1st?"

"Word is that the Ministry has covered the remaining bodies that lined the grounds in stone," Malcolm sighed. "They've arranged them in a sort of monument to the power of You-Know-Who. This way, the returning students will have a lasting reminder of what happened there."

Harry's cold eyes found Malcolm. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," Malcolm grunted. "The Ministry has ordered the school to resume on September 1st."

"What are you thinking?" Arthur asked.

The smile that covered Harry's face sent chills through the room. "I think that after a two-year hiatus, it's time for me to finish my education."

~~~TLGS~~~

Ron entered the Leaky Cauldron, tossing back his hood and gazing about the room. Now that he had revealed himself to the world, he found little need to hide his face. The might of the new Ministry and of Voldemort stood behind him. Wizards shuddered at the sight of him, hiding their faces from view.

Not seeing any that interested him, he continued on. Upon entering Diagon Alley, he found himself met with similar responses. Witches and wizards that walked the alley ducked into nearby open shops in hopes of avoiding him. Many of the vacant shop doors had signs that read, 'New Management Coming Soon.' The Ministry had ordered that the shops be reopened to regain a sense of normalcy.

Ron walked until he reached the ivory pillars and large ornate doors to the wizard bank, Gringotts. The guards watched as he approached, stepping aside to allow him entrance the moment they spied the badge upon his chest. He smirked as wizards and goblins fell back at his approach.

"I wish to enter the deepest chambers," Ron commanded as he reached the far desk.

The goblin behind the desk bowed. "Might I ask why?"

"I wish to speak with the Keeper."

The goblin eyed him suspiciously. "May I see identification?"

Ron shoved the sleeve of his left arm up, revealing his forearm.

The goblin bowed again. "Thank you, sir. Follow me."

Ron followed the goblin to the rail cart and climbed inside. The carriage sped down at breakneck speeds. The goblin leaned into each curve until they reached the bottom, coming to an abrupt halt.

"I wish to go alone."

"As you wish. I shall wait here for your return."

Ron tossed his hood over his head, then waved his wand over his chest to hide his badge. Entering the outer chamber, he instinctively dropped and rolled to avoid the tail that lashed the ground. He moved again to avoid the blast of fire.

"Keeper!" Ron shouted in a deep voice. "Hold your dragon!"

"Who goes there? Show yerself!" the Keeper snarled.

Ron watched as a massive form stepped forward to subdue the young dragon. "Hagrid!" he whispered. "It's me! Ron!"

Hagrid stumbled, shoving the dragon into a corner as he fastened the muzzle. "Ron? That really you?"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down," Ron hissed.

"That really you?" Hagrid whispered, looping the harness chain through a tiedown on the wall.

Ron stepped forward, pushing back his hood.

"Blimey," Hagrid sobbed, dropping to one knee. "I thought you dead."

"And I you." Ron patted the half-giant on the shoulder. "Have you been down here this whole time?"

"No. First, they threw me in Azkaban with …" Hagrid choked. "Ron! Harry's alive! In Azkaban!"

"Shhh! Hagrid, I know. Azkaban fell weeks ago. Harry escaped. It's why I've come out of hiding. Hermione has too."

Hagrid looked around excitedly. "Where are they?"

"I don't know. Harry's taken up with a group calling themselves Dumbledore's Army and Hermione's with a group calling themselves the Knights."

Hagrid's eyes fell for a moment, then snapped back, burning with determination. "They're resisting."

"That they are, though I fear for Hermione."

Hagrid rose to his feet. "Why?"

"No time now to explain. We've got to get out of here."

Ron waved his wand, and the shackles around Hagrid's wrists fell to the floor.

"How?" Hagrid asked, rubbing his wrists.

"There's a cart and a goblin waiting."

Without further explanation, Ron raised his hood, then headed for the cart. Hagrid lumbered behind as Ron shouted, "Imperio!" The goblin stiffened, then sat up alert as Ron and Hagrid climbed in.

"We'll never make it out of here."

"All we have to do is make to Diagon Alley. We can apparate from there." Ron turned his attention to the goblin. "Back to the lobby."

The goblin pulled a lever, and the cart shot up the rails like a rocket. The moment they reached the lobby, Ron modified the goblin's memory then knocked him out cold. Hagrid burst into the teller's section as Ron shot stunners at anything that moved. He swiped the air with his wand, and one of the grand chandeliers came crashing down behind them to block the way.

Ron smirked as the guards raced forwards. A swipe of his wand and one of the guards flew into a far wall. A backhand from Hagrid and the other guard joined him.

"Confringo!"

The doors to the bank burst open. The moment their feet touched the steps beyond, Ron seized hold of Hagrid's arm, twisting on the spot.

~~~TLGS~~~

Voldemort and William apparated to the outer edge of Ottery St Catchpole. William glanced around as they entered the village. Witches and wizards fled for cover at the sight of his father, though he failed to even acknowledge their existence. He strolled with purpose, reaching the steps of a small duplex. Without hesitation, he blasted the door away, then entered the abode. The place looked as though it had been deserted for many years.

"Another dead end," William growled.

"Do not be so quick to judge, my son," Voldemort sighed reprovingly. "I have made the same mistake, and it nearly proved fatal."

Voldemort waved his wand, and the air rippled. The next moment shapes formed within the ripples, creating moving images throughout the room.

"Lasting effects of magic performed within these walls," Voldemort explained, answering William's unspoken question. "They may hold the answers we seek."

William watched the images pass before him. Cooking, cleaning, and other household spells. The same that he had seen his beloved Pandora cast many times. Then, new pictures began to fill the air. His eyes narrowed as he remembered when he had last seen these spells performed, and by whom. Then, a blinding light filled the whole of the room, followed by a girl's scream.

Voldemort turned to face his son. "Have you the knowledge we need?"

"Yes, father, I do," he hissed. "Now, I know where to go."

A/N: After a long hiatus, here's a new chapter! I hope that you enjoyed it. Please review!

This story is one of my first writings and I vowed that one day I'd finish it. Well, i believe that the time has come. Special thanks to Critters At Play for being beta. As always, all mistakes are his. ;) Next chapter is already in the works.