Chapter 26: It Ends Tonight

"Death is better, a milder fate than tyranny." 

-Aeschylus (525 BC - 456 BC), Agamemnon

Kelsey grinned, pouring the potions into the tea cups. The metallic blue contrasted beautifully against the bright white of the cup. The flowers of the small cup moved gently, as if moving by a breeze. She poured some of the real tea into the cup, noticing that it blended in perfectly, as if the potion wasn't there at all. She held the cup to her nose, sniffing it lightly. It smelled like mint tea, and that was exactly what it was supposed to taste like. She placed the tea cup down, and poured some more tea into the other piece of china, not bothering to mix because it blended automatically. She checked to make sure that everything would go accordingly: the tea cups were placed in the spots Harry and Hermione were sitting; various butter biscuits aligned so it'd look like they actually put effort into it; and her own tea cup, not tainted by the potion, was sitting before her.

She checked her robe and stuffed the empty vials into her pocket (she wouldn't be caught wearing skirts), and she straightened her robe, sitting elegantly on to her seat.

After a few minutes of waiting, Harry and Hermione finally came out. They weren't holding hands, but they were side by side, walking towards the table with a cautious look etched on their faces. They were still in their uniform, except that their ties were loosened, and their robes were open. (She suspected it was because they were stressed out. That's what you get for having kids, she thought, silently chuckling.)

He smiled hesitantly and sat, right in front of the spiked cup. Hermione sat right next to him.

Perfect.

"So," se started conversationally, "how are things?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing a cautious eye at the tea placed in front of him. "Err… not too shabby," he replied, placing his right palm flat on the surface of the cool table.

Hermione sighed impatiently, taking a glance towards Harry, and then at the tea. "Not to probe, or anything, but why exactly have you invited us for tea?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound discourteous.

Kelsey smiled, taking a small sip of her tea. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to get the chance to know you better, is all." She shrugged, "Nothing too big." A short pause later, she started talking again. "I mean, everyone here has heard of you, read about you, or has even had the privilege of meeting you two. And since I'm from America, I didn't really get the chance. So… here we are today, getting to know each other."

She really hoped they believed her lie, because she just made it up as she went along. She smiled, and motioned for Harry and Hermione to take a sip of their tea.

Harry warily picked up the tea cup, sniffed it lightly, as not to arouse suspicion, and took a small sip of it. Figuring that it wouldn't hurt—she was only eleven years old, after all—he took a bit more, and then put the cup down, smiling softly.

Hermione, as her patience was running thin, took a long drink from the cup, relishing the mint taste. She was too stressed out to even think of the possibility that her drink was tainted. She smiled and took a chocolate biscuit from the small platter, and put it in her mouth, smiling as the chocolate instantly melted in her mouth.

"So…" Kelsey attempted at a conversation, but it seemed as though they were too keen in just sitting there.

Poor guys, they must have it real hard, she sympathetically thought. No, don't think like that! You have a task to do! Don't ruin it and take it away from them! Her mind reprimanded.

Taking a long sip, Harry eyed the butter biscuit. Well, we are missing dinner, so I guess it wouldn't hurt too badly. He took it, and took a big bite out of it, and immediately finished the small biscuit with a few more chews.

Hermione's tea was nearly finished, and Kelsey suspected the potion was already taking effect. She kept glancing over at Harry—crap, he only drank, like, half of his tea!—and she would smile stupidly, look over at her, and then take another sip, a dazed look on her face.

Kelsey rolled her eyes. And to think, I have to endure more if this! She thought, nearly shuddering. She saw Harry drink a few more sips of his tea, look over towards Hermione, and take a few more sips.

I wish I could be that blouse, Harry thought, unknowingly brushing his leg against Hermione's. She gasped, and Kelsey had to suppress a grin (it's working!), while Hermione placed her hand non too subtly on his thigh. He grinned and turned in her direction, placing his hand on her shoulder, working his way down.

Kelsey nearly gagged. Ugh, it's like watching my sister and fiancé go at it! 

"So," she said after a few minutes of silence, "I think my job is done." She grinned when she didn't get an answer from the two, just a large, goofy grin. "I'll just take my leave. You two just… procreate."

"Sure," Hermione said absently, feeding Harry a butter biscuit. "Harry and I will just… just… stay here for a while."

Kelsey rolled her eyes, taking a few of the cookies (she'd missed her dinner for these two, and she certainly wasn't going to starve for the night), and left to go to Dumbledore's office.

0—0—0—0 

Kelsey quickly went towards Dumbledore's office. The last time she had been there—this morning, for misbehaving in Transfiguration—she had been given the password for when she had completed her "task." Taking a quick left, ignoring the talking knight, she made her way towards the Griffin.

What was it again? Chocolate Frogs? Ice Mice? I think it's ice mice. "Ice Mice," she said, loud and clear. The Griffin moved upward, stair appearing from underneath. She quickly stepped into one of the steps and waited until she reached the door. After a few moments, the stairs finally stopped moving, and she heard Dumbledore's voice.

"Come in," she heard.

Brushing off some excess lint, she went into the office, smiling exultantly as she did so. Not bothering to address the Headmaster, she quickly got down to business. "The potion is in their drinks. They're being all touchy-feely right now, so they'll be getting down to business soon."

"Excellent, Miss Lockerbee," said Dumbledore. "You may take your leave. I believe you've skipped dinner for these two, and a plate of scrumptious food is waiting for you." Smiling, he popped a lemon drop into his awaiting mouth.

"Alright." She stood and turned, leaving for the door. But, just as her hand was on the knob, she turned around, a thoughtful look grazing her features.

"Yes, Miss Lockerbee?" asked Dumbledore, wondering if she had another question to ask.

"What do I get outta this?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Cause, getting those two to get all touchy-feely wasn't easy. I deserve to get something."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you are right. I believe you could pass everything until my dying day."

"Till your dying day?" wondered Kelsey. Murmuring quietly to herself, she nodded, opened the door, and left.

Dumbledore sighed. This is what I fear, that I will not live much longer… Sighing mournfully, he started writing.

0—0—0—0

Harry grinned, drinking a bit more of the tea. I need to get some more of that tea! It's bloody awesome! He thought happily. He cradled Hermione's face in his hands, and leaned in. Once his lips touched hers, their mouth automatically opened to each other's, their tongues duelling.

After a few minutes of vigorous snogging, Hermione pulled away. "Let's go to our rooms," she muttered, while Harry attacked her neck.

His response was a mere groan.

They stood up, Harry still sucking Hermione's neck, and her hands entangled in his hair. They struggled to get up, but once they did, the first thing Harry did was push Hermione against the wall.

"This isn't our room," moaned Hermione, bringing his lips on hers.

"I know," Harry murmured against her lips.

Students slowly started arriving, each glancing oddly at the pair. Harry and Hermione paid no attention. Fred and George saw the tea set, and they put two and two together.

"Who knew tea could be such a turn on?" wondered Fred, grinning.

"Harry did, apparently," commented George.

"Oi! You two lovebirds!" shouted Fred, walking up to the two (who were still kissing furiously).

Harry and Hermione slowly parted, though their faces were still inches apart. He gave her a quick peck, and turned around, glaring at the twins.

"Yes?" asked Harry, his voice icy.

"So, what was in the tea—" asked Fred.

"—because we'd like to have some, too," finished George.

Hermione feebly shrugged. "Some first year named Kelsey gave it to us." A split second later, she said, "Now, if you two don't mind, Harry and I were in the middle of something."

Not bothering for a parting word, Hermione took hold of Harry's collar, and dragged him over towards the couch. Forgetting momentarily about being in the Gryffindor Common Room, and not their personal one, Hermione pushed Harry onto the couch. She sat on his lap, grinning wickedly, and then attacked his lips.

"That Lockerbee girl?" Fred wondered. George merely nodded. "Oh my, brother, it seems as though their drinks were spiked." He shook his head. "But from what?"

George put his forefinger to his chin, tapping it repeatedly. "That, my dear, dear brother, is something of which I do notknow." He suddenly grinned, rubbing his hands together. "But it's something we're going to find out." He turned towards the sixth year boys' dormitories. "Now, let's take a sample from their cups, and let's go figure out what's happening to our friends!"

"Perhaps we could even make a galleon or two out of this!" Fred exclaimed, suddenly loving the idea.

0—0—0—0 

Hermione moaned, her fingers threading thru Harry's unruly hair. As their tongues battled mercilessly, Hermione tried to get Harry's tie off. She tried, but trying to take a tie off with her eyes closed wasn't working, so she opened her eyes. She put her fingers through the knot, trying to loosen it, but to no avail. Giving up, she tore her lips from Harry's (who, in return, groaned and started planting kisses on her neck), and started working the tie. Again, she wasn't able to get the tie to loosen, but actually get tighter.

"Here, let me," Harry murmured, putting the tie over his head. Seemingly satisfied that he had no tie on, he started working on Hermione's blouse.

She grinned, grinding herself on his lap, earning a pleasurable groan from Harry.

"Hey, you two!" shouted someone. "Go shag some where else!" Murmurs of approval were heard throughout the Common Room, and Harry and Hermione glared at them.

"Why don't you just leave the Common Room?" retorted Harry, angry that they'd ever suggest such a horrid thing. (The potion was really messing with his mind now.)

"Because we have studying to do before the holidays!" shouted someone, clearly angry at the moaning and the inappropriate public display of affection. "Just go shag in your own room!"

Irritably, Hermione stood up, glaring dangerously at the Gryffindor students. "Fine!" she shouted, grasping Harry's hand and dragging him with her into their rooms.

Rapidly muttering the password, they went in, their hands on each other within moments of entering. Harry kissed her, their tongues meeting before their lips, and he grinned as a satisfied moan reached his ears, courtesy of Hermione. His hands went to Hermione's breasts, and they hurriedly went to her blouse, trying to undo the buttons.

Hermione did the same, and once Harry's shirt was unbuttoned, she went for his belt, quickly unfastening it. As she went for his trousers, Harry forcibly removed her blouse, working on her skirt zipper next, their lips still fused together.

However, before Hermione could take Harry's trousers off, Dobby came out of the nursery, Lily in his arms.

"Oh!" Dobby squeaked, trying to cover his eyes while holding their daughter securely in his frail arms. "Dobby is so sorry!" He turned around, and started walking backwards. "Little Miss Potter is being hungry, and Dobby is having to clean Hogwarts. And Mister and Miss was here, so Dobby thought that they could feed little Miss Potter." He turned around again, hesitantly opening a big eye.

Harry and Hermione looked like deer caught in front of a car. They didn't talk, however, just stared.

A few moments later, Dobby squeaked out: "Please? Dobby is being very, very sorry. But Dobby is having two jobs, and Mister and Miss is here… and…" Dobby broke down into sobs. "Oh, Dobby is being bad house-elf!" He sobbed running back into the nursery.

Blinking rapidly, Harry and Hermione ran after them, not caring about their state of dress. Their children came first. Once they reached the nursery, they saw Dobby hitting himself with a baby bottle, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Dobby isn't supposed to be interrupting Miss and Mister! Dobby be working for them, Dobby isn't listening to them! Bad Dobby!" shouted he, the bottle nearly dented from being hit so much.

Harry snatched the bottle from Dobby, throwing it in a corner. "Dobby, don't worry," he reassured, kneeling in front of him. "Hermione will just feed them, and we'll go back to our business. You do what you need to do." He put his hand on his meagre shoulder. "If we're here, you could just tell us and leave," he informed him.

"And don't punish yourself," she said sharply. She looked down, and realized that she had no shirt on, so she put her arms around herself, trying to look a bit more decent in front of the small creature. She blushed, realizing that it was doing no good, and went towards Lily's cot, picking her up and silently leaving the nursery.

Grinning mischievously, Harry got up, playing with the buckle on his belt. Momentarily forgetting that Dobby was there, he started taking his trousers off. Immediately, Dobby squeaked and left the room, muttering, "Dobby help clean Hogwarts now."

He jumped and sighed. We'll shag in a few minutes, he reasoned, going over towards his son's cot. Smiling at his son's sleeping form, he placed a soft kiss on his forehead and left the nursery.

Hermione was feeding Lily while sitting on the couch, her legs spread wide apart. Harry grinned and trot towards her, kneeling in between her legs.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, running her fingers through his soft hair.

He said nothing, but instead, started kissing his way up her knee. Flicking out his tongue, he grinned when he heard a soft sound emit from the girl in front of him. He wasn't sure if it was a moan or a hum, but he intended on finding out. Once he got to her ribcage, Hermione immediately pushed his head away.

"What?" he asked. Had he done something wrong?

"I don't think you want to drink milk right now," she muttered, her hands gesturing towards Lily. "And it feels wrong with our daughter eating right here."

He sighed and dropped his head to her lap. Grinning, his hands found the zipper to her skirt. Instantaneously, he pulled the zipper down, and moved her hips upward so he could take off the offending material. His mouth was nearly watering by the time he hooked his fingers through her cotton knickers.

"N-no, Harry," she murmured. "We… You… can't… I'm in my period," she said lamely.

He looked at her quizzically. "Eh?" he wondered. "You're… period…" A second later, he figured out what it was. "Oh, isn't that when – blood – in your – and—" he stammered, blushing slightly.

She mutely nodded. She quietly stood up, adjusting Lily in her arms, and went to put her in her cot. Once she came back, she told Harry, "Well… we could still snog, and stuff." She blushed furiously after that.

He nodded, dejected. "Sure…" Looking down, he saw his little "problem." He looked up at Hermione, almost desperately. "What about this?" he asked, gesturing to his arousal.

She grinned, going down on her knees. "Oh, I think I could help with that," she said, licking her lips. "Now," she commanded, "just sit on the settee and I'll fix it." She gave him a sultry kiss, nipping on his bottom lip for a second before murmuring, "And you'll enjoy it. Trust me."

Harry could only oblige to her command.

0—0—0—0 

Fred and George went towards the used tea cups, and took the two that were nearest to each other.

"Do you think these are there's?" wondered Fred, inspecting it like a muggle detective.

George shrugged. "I bet." Quickly taking the one next to it, the two jogged up the stairs into their dormitories.

Once getting inside, Fred immediately went into his trunk to retrieve something. George sat on the bed, placing the two cups in front of him, making sure the remains of the tea wouldn't spill. (Even though there wasn't much left, Fred and George suspected they could work with it.) Fred, after rummaging through his trunk for a few minutes, came and sat on the four poster, grinning at his twin.

"Now, remind me, why are we doing this?" George asked, taking out the small device.

"Because they're our friends," Fred replied. "And, if we tweak whatever is in this, we could even sell this stuff!" he added. George nodded thoughtfully.

"Right you are, Gred."

"Of course, Forge."

Taking out his wand and a small book, Fred flipped through until he exclaimed, "Aha! Here!" He waved his wand, clearly enchanting, "Ostendo sum Alica." A few seconds later, a few wisps of blue emit from his wand.

Confused, George took the book from his brother, reading silently to himself. "If there is a spell enchanted on an object, food/drink, etc. use the spell: Ostendo sum Alica. Once it has been cast, simply say: Aufero obscoena alica. Once cast, the spell shall be effectively removed, unless no spell is used. (Example: A potion is used. See page, thirty-five.) If this is the case, wisps of blue shall emit." 

He nodded, understanding. Fred murmured to himself. After a few moments, he asked, "What happens if blue comes out of my wand?"

"There is no spell used," he informed.

Fred raised an eyebrow. "So Harry and Hermione just wanted to shag in front of everyone?"

He shook his head. "No, there was… most likely, a potion used." He shut up and flipped to page thirty-nine, reading the contents. Taking out his wand, he muttered, "Ostendo sum Venenum." Nothing came from his wand, so the two suspected something—they didn't know what, yet—was put into their drinks.

"I wonder what…"

Fred shrugged, but then suddenly grinned. He muttered a spell, and the cup suddenly became full again. He muttered another spell, and the cup was covered, ensuring that the contents wouldn't spill.

George raised an eyebrow.

"To figure what it is later," he said absently. "We could always use the galleons."

Nodding, the two stood up in unison. They both left, but not before putting everything back where it belonged (their device, and the book, at least).

"Now… how to get into their room…" wondered George.

They went back into the Common Room, and noticed Harry and Hermione were no where to be seen. The two looked quizzically at each other, wondering where they could've gone. They saw their friend, Lee Jordan, sitting at a desk, snogging a girl.

"Oh, not you too!" Fred exclaimed dramatically. "And I thought our two 'parents' were enough! Now you, too?"

George sighed. "Such a bad influence," he commented.

"Oh come off it you two," Lee said. "Sasha and I were just… getting to know each other."

The twins howled with laugher, forgetting momentarily why they came down in the first place. "Oh, of course, I could only imagine how you treat us, then!"

"Piss off," Lee muttered, feigning anger.

Rolling their eyes, the twins turned around. "Don't mind if we do."

They grinned and went towards the now familiar portrait. The man, who was looking through his binoculars, put them down and critically looked at the twins. He shook his head, muttering something, and then turned around, picking the binoculars back up and then started gazing at the animals in the distance.

"No!" said George. "Come back! We need to talk to Harry and Hermione!"

Rolling his eyes (even though the twins didn't see him), the man turned around, the binoculars falling around his neck. "Now, why would I want to help more people go into their rooms, tampering with the poor children's lives?" he wondered sarcastically.

"No, this isn't anything like that," Fred reassured. "We're here to help them!" George nodded in confirmation.

The man sighed, and then turned back around. "That's highly doubtable."

"But we talked to you before!" George argued. "Why can't you tell them we want to talk to them right now?"

"Yes," he remembered, "I know that. But they also weren't… as busy, per say."

Fred and George rolled their eyes. "C'mon now, you can at least tell them we've got to tell them something!"

"Something that's really, really important!" the twin added.

The man sighed, giving in. "Very well, then." But before the twins could grin and whoop, he started talking again. "I will leave them a note, and tomorrow, if they read it, they will be able to talk to you." He started walking away. "And besides, you'll see them tomorrow, anyway!" he added, smiling brightly before disappearing to the great beyond.

"Oh bugger," muttered George, hanging his head low.

"What the bloody hell do we do now?" Fred asked, turning around.

"Figure out what potion was used," George said. Fred nodded, and they went back to the dorms.

0—0—0—0

Harry smiled giddily, putting his trousers back on. Hermione grinned, fixing her blouse. After Hermione had taken care of Harry's slight "problem," they had another long, scorching snog, and they were left with grins they thought would never come off.

The potion had done its effect—most of it, anyway, so Harry and Hermione's emotions toward each other were under control. They still weren't sure why they suddenly wanted to shag (even though they didn't actually shag), but they were happy they got to snog each other anyway.

Hermione went into the nursery, pulling her zipper up as she did so. She saw her son, James, looking at her, his emerald eyes wide open. He was looking into her eyes, and then his face scrunched up, his face starting to frown. Suddenly, the small infant started whimpering softly.

Startled, Hermione picked him up, cradling him. His whimpers just became louder, and he was now sobbing loudly. She rocked him, worried, and took him to the changing table. Taking off his sweats, she checked to see if his nappy was dirty. It was, and Hermione took it off, starting to clean her son off.

After she effectively changed him, James started calming down, though he was still whimpering. Harry came in, wondering what was wrong, and saw James whimpering while Hermione cradled him. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

She shrugged, murmuring soothing words to her son. He walked up to her, "Here, let me take him." She nodded and gave James to him. Almost instantly, he quieted down. She smiled, satisfied that he calmed down, and tilted her head up (Harry grew a few inches, so he was now at a healthy five six), and gave him a kiss. His tongue instantly sought entrance to her mouth, and she obliged, their tongues lazily dancing together.

After a few minutes of blissful snogging, they parted. Harry left the nursery and put James in his small swinging chair. Just as he strapped him in, he noticed a piece of parchment hanging on the door. Confused, he went to it and took it, reading it.

Mister Potter and Miss Granger,

The two Weasleys wish to see you. They say it's "important" and they needed to see you, but I did not allow them access. I was fooled too many times to be tricked once more. I don't feel you need any more troubles in your personal life, at least, while you're here. 

If you wish to see them, they are currently in the Gryffindor Common Room. But, as they are now standing up, I suspect they are going to retire to their rooms for the night. Perhaps you could see them tomorrow? 

Best regards,

Man of the Great Beyond

He looked at the door confused. Since when can doors write notes to us? he wondered. He shrugged—he'd been through too much, and right now, his mind was still fogged with thoughts of Hermione. He turned and walked towards Hermione, who was strapping Lily into her swinging seat.

"Hermione, look at this," he told her, sitting next to her on the carpet, each in front of their children.

She took it from him and started to silently read. Her eyes burrowed in slight confusion. She put the parchment in front of them once she was finished reading. "What would Fred and George want?" she wondered aloud.

Harry merely shrugged. "My first thought was: how did a door write us a note," he shared, pushing James' chair, slowly rocking his son to sleep.

"This isn't the first time he did this," Hermione informed him. "Remember when Ron wanted to talk to us? We had a note then."

He nodded. "True."

She stood up, brushing off imaginary lint from her skirt, and went to go put her robe on. "You stay here," she told him. "I'll go talk to Fred and George, see what they want to tell us."

Harry shook his head. "No, I bet they went to their dorms." He stood up as well, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll talk to them, you… you just put James and Lily to sleep. I'll tell you everything once I get back."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Alright," she acquiesced. Giving him a lingering kiss, Hermione murmured, "Hurry back."

He nodded, and briskly left.

Once he got to the sixth year boy's dorms, Harry quickly sought out the twins four-posters. "Fred, George!" he called out.

Their heads peeked out. "Harry!" they greeted in unison. "What a pleasure! What can we do for you?" Fred asked.

"You said you needed to tell us something 'important,'" Harry said.

"Oh, yes!" George remembered, quickly opening his drape from the bed. "Come to bed," he told them, gesturing to Fred that he, too, come in. He nodded and climbed into the bed. George pulled the curtains together again, and muttered a silencing charm. After they were sure they had privacy, George said: "Harry, today, when you and Hermione were snogging, it wasn't just your hormones acting up."

"Your tea was spiked," Fred informed him.

Harry's eyes widened. "Wh-what?" he questioned, stuttering.

They nodded, "Yeah. We were wondering why you were acting like that—usually, you never really show any 'affection' towards each other, like kissing and stuff—so Fred and I were wondering what happened. And then Hermione told us that Kelsey Lockerbee gave you the tea, and we knew right then and there something went wrong."

George continued: "So we did a bit of inspecting, and we found out that it was, indeed, spiked." George grinned, "Right now, we're trying to figure out which potion it is, so perhaps we could change it a bit, and even make a profit!"

Harry's face darkened. "Oh, I perfectly know which potion was used." He grimaced, remembering how Hermione acted the night he impregnated her. He was suddenly very thankful Hermione was presently in her period. "It's… it's a lust and conceiving potion," he told them. "I don't think you'd really want it, unless you wanted kids."

Fred and George's eyebrows rose. "So this isn't the first time you've been give it?"

"No," came his honest reply.

They were quiet for a few minutes.

"Listen," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I have to go… do stuff. I'll… talk to you later…" he trailed off, pulling the bed drapes apart, leaving without another word.

As Harry came back, his temper had risen significantly. I am definitely going to kill Dumbledore now, his mind raged.

"Hermione!" Harry nearly shouted. She ran towards him from the bedroom, her eyes wide and alert. "Dumbledore… is going… to die," he snarled.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, Harry," she murmured. "What are we going to do now?"

"Kill Dumbledore," he repeated. "That bloody bat is going to die!"

She quickly put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down. "Now Harry," she said, "try to think this rationally. You can't just barge into his office, kill him, and then leave."

His eyes widened. "Yes I can!" he said, suddenly grinning. "I'll do just that! He won't even know what—or in this case, who—hit him!"

"Harry," Hermione warned, "please, not right now."

He shook his head, as if he were a three year old. "No, Hermione. Not right now." His mind frantically tried to form a plan suitable for him and his family. "You… write a letter to your parents or my aunt. Ask them if we can stay, even if it's just for a few days. We… after a few days, we can stay at Sirius'." As he told her what to do, he started jotting down ideas on how to kill Dumbledore.

She sighed, giving up. She was much too tired to argue with him right now. "Fine, Harry." She went over to the desk, and started writing. She wrote one to Petunia, asking if she was humble enough to offer a few days of shelter for her and her family.

Seemingly satisfied with what she had written, Hermione left to go send it.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, watching Hermione put on a coat and mittens.

"Sending this letter to Hedwig so she could send it to your Aunt," she informed, leaving without another glance towards Harry.

He rolled his eyes. Women.

Scratching a few ideas down, he was satisfied. He looked around the room, and saw that, if they were going to leave, they were going to have to pack. And soon.

"Dobby?" he called out apprehensively. A second later, a pop! was heard, and Dobby appeared.

"Yes, Mister Harry Potter sir?" asked Dobby, wondering why he was summoned so late at night. (It was nearing eleven 'o clock.)

"Do you have a spell that packs everything into trunks? Without actually packing?" he asked. Dobby nodded. "Can you put all of our stuff, save the cots, because James and Lily are sleeping in them right now, into a few trunks or something?" He felt slightly ashamed of asking Dobby this, but it was necessary.

He looked at Harry sceptically, but nodded, obliging.

"I'll be right back," he informed Dobby. "Oh, and could you make sure nothing happens to James and Lily, too? Please?" he asked.

Dobby nodded, smiling.

"Okay, thanks," he said sincerely. With that, he left to see a certain Headmaster.

0—0—0—0

Dumbledore sighed, holding the parchment with a gossamer touch. He had done many wrongs and rights during his long life, but never had he intended for it to go this far.

When he heard of Harry Potter's accomplishment, he was overcome with jealousy. Even though the child was only a toddler at the time, and he lost his parents, he couldn't help the feeling of envy. When he held the child for the first time, a few weeks after his birth, he never suspected he could hold this much emotion, this much power.

During his first year, as he was powered with jealously and envy, he put Harry through a series of tests, of obstacles that could harm him, even kill him. That was his intentions. Ever since he'd come, he had done this. In his first year, the Philosopher's Stone; in his second, the Chamber of secrets; in his third, Sirius Black; and now, even though he had no involvement in this, the Triwizard Tournament. And then there was the case of the 'unexpected' pregnancy of Harry's precious girlfriend.

And now, as he sat behind his desk, awaiting Harry, he remained still, awaiting his upcoming fate.

A few minutes later, he heard shouting, and he supposed Harry was there. Sighing, he waved his wand, and the gargoyle moved away, and the shouting stopped.

Harry knocked angrily on the door, and the door slammed open, Harry's hair flying wildly, his eyes ablaze.

"Why?" he asked, his voice deadly.

Dumbledore thought the truth would be best. "I was jealous, Harry." He eyes lowered in shame. "It was wrong of me, but I wanted it for myself. All of it," he murmured.

"That's it?" he asked, slowly walking towards Dumbledore, as if he were his prey. "You thought you had to do everything you did because you were fucking jealous?"

"Harry, I am very ashamed of what I have done—of what I have become. I had no right to interfere with your life, nor had I the right to give you several potions. I was simply overcome with a human emotion that leaves no survivors: Hate.

"I hated you, Harry Potter. I hated what you had become. When everyone knew you had survived Voldemort, I suddenly felt as if I was pushed to the side. A boy of one year, defeating the darkest wizard of your generation, and it seemed as if they forgot about the strongest light wizard of their age. I needed to regain the power, the fame, the recognition. I needed it back.

"So, when you first arrived at Hogwarts, I felt as if I needed to get rid of you somehow. I wasn't sure at the time, but I knew I would have to make it so it wouldn't seem too suspicious. So the obstacles you've been through, everything, was because of me. Because I was too foolish to realize what I had become.

"By the time I had realized, it was much too late to turn back. Even if I asked for forgiveness, I know I would not get it, because I knew you were planning my death. (Harry's mouth hung open for a second, but he shut it quickly, not wanting Dumbledore to know he was right once again.)

"I know I will still not be forgiven, not now, not ever. Because, I know why you are here," he finished, his eyes filled with defeat.

He was ready to accept defeat.

He was ready for the next great adventure.

Dumbledore offered a grim smile. "Would you like to do the honours, or do you want me to do it?"

Harry's mouth hung open, not caring if Dumbledore was in front of him. Harry comprehended everything Dumbledore had said, and now Dumbledore was ready to accept his fate? All of a sudden, Harry wasn't sure he was ready to kill him.

"I… Err…" he stammered, his brain lagging behind.

"I understand completely," Dumbledore nodded, raising his wand. He offered a genuine smile to Harry. "Goodbye, Harry Potter. You really are a wonderful wizard." After a moment of hesitation, "After I am dead, could you please put the contents of the vial in my mouth?" he asked, knowing he wasn't going to say—or do—anything.

Muttering something, a flash of green emitted from his wand, and Dumbledore died. A small, grim smile grazing his frozen features.

Harry could only stare, his body ramrod, his mouth hanging slightly agape.

0—0—0—0 

Hermione muttered while going to the Owlery. While she knew Harry could be a git sometimes, she didn't think he'd actually want to go through it.

I guess I didn't take him seriously enough, Hermione mused, her thoughts still slightly fogged with images of Harry.

Once she got to Hedwig, she stroked her feathers affectionately. "Hey girl," she murmured. "I need you to deliver a letter to Petunia Dursley. Do you think you could do this, and give us a quick reply?"

Hedwig hooted, stretching her leg out, waiting for the letter. Hermione smiled and tied the letter to her leg. "And don't leave until you get a reply," she added. Giving an affectionate nip to Hermione, Hedwig flew off into the night.

0—0—0—0

Harry didn't know how long he stood there. He could only stare.

Dumbledore was dead.

Dumbledore was dead.

Dumbledore was dead.

He never thought it possible. But, apparently, everything was possible.

Noticing the vial on his desk, next to a small piece of parchment, he picked it up.

He took the cork off, noting a bit of what seemed to be steam coming from the bottle. Nearly grimacing, Harry put it down his throat, his eyes widening dramatically as his body started disintegrating. After nearly a minute, there was no evidence that Dumbledore was even in the office.

With shaky hands, he picked up the note.

Anyone who reads this,

I'm sorry. I need some time to myself, and I cannot say where. Nothing bad has happened, so the Ministry need not be involved. I'm sorry, but I highly doubt I will be returning.

Signed,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry felt like he was going numb. Dumbledore really did know what Harry's intentions were. And he didn't even kill Dumbledore.

0—0—0—0 

Nearly two hours later, Harry returned to his and Hermione's bedroom. He saw the shrunken trunks on their bed, Lily and James on the bed, and Hermione's eyes bloodshot.

"He's dead." It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"You killed him."

"No, I didn't." He nearly whispered: "He did."

Her eyes widened. "You mean…?" He only nodded.

"And now: we leave."