Harry Potter and the Hall of Justice

Chapter 38 Harry’s Quest


Six months had passed since Albus Dumbledore had last visited his youngest brother. Some forty years ago, Martin Dumbledore had taken charge of a new school of magic sanctioned by the Ministry of Magic, which was to become the first in western Canada.

The British Columbian School of Magic was considered by some to be the paradigmatic example of what a magic school should be in the modern era. It focused not only on the major disciplines of the magical world but also incorporated the technological know-how of the non-magical world as well. Magic was wedded with high technology.

Among the school’s commissioners were many forward-looking and pragmatic witches and wizards born and raised in the Western Hemisphere. And all were very supportive of the like-minded Martin Dumbledore. The commissioners intended the atypical education to produce well-rounded, self-reliant and capable graduates, and they had been well pleased. Although the Ministry of Magic itself had resisted any school taking such a tack, the experimental course of instruction had been blatantly successful.

Martin Dumbledore was enthralled with everything Harry Potter. He scrap-booked every mention of the “boy-who-lived” as articles appeared in the North American issue of the Daily Prophet. As Martin was only able to visit Albus during his short summer vacation, he had never been able to meet Harry in person. One day, though, he knew he would find an excuse to do so.

Harry reminded him of another young man - - - a former student whose parents were killed by Death Eaters while he was in his sixth year at BC. The young wizard’s parents had been researchers with the North American Ministry of Magic, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Department. Both had been powerful magical beings whose research had been focused on the use of non-magical technologies to combat forces of evil.

After the death of his parents, Austin Riley Preston finished his sixth year at BC but never returned. He simply ceased to exist. Investigators, Aurors and BC faculty members had all searched for the young man, but he was never found.

Some thought he might have returned to Texas, his birthplace and the site of his early education. With no living relatives, however, their search was quickly called off. No one had any idea where to look for the boy. The hunt too soon became futile and was given up.

Austin had been the most intelligent student Martin Dumbledore had ever taught at BC. He was also very athletic and had been a very respected Keeper on BC’s Quidditch team. Austin had been of normal height for a young man his age but heavier. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes that never missed anything. But there had been something else about Austin Riley Preston - - - something others soon became aware of who lived and schooled around him.

From a very early age, his instructors and classmates knew Austin was very different. He never needed a wand nor did he have to vocalize an incantation. Austin did have the habit of moving his right hand, fingers slightly spread and palm down, in a small arc in front of him whenever he cast a spell or charm. However, Martin Dumbledore soon realized the movement was only a habit he had picked up. He didn’t need to raise a finger. Unlike other magical beings that had to have a wand in hand to focus the minds power, his entire focus came from his mind.

It had been ten years since Austin failed to return to BC to complete his last year of school. Many assumed he had been found by evil lords and killed, as his parents had been. Martin Dumbledore, though, never believed that. He believed Austin had been unable to deal emotionally with the terrible tragedy and simply escaped into his own world. Wherever he was, Austin Riley Preston was not dead.

Martin had told Albus of the boy’s mysterious disappearance some years earlier. The elder Dumbledore had wanted to closely scrutinize the young man and greatly regretted having missed the opportunity. Even though Albus Dumbledore knew the “Boy Who Lived” might one day prove to be evil’s greatest living foe, this young Austin Riley Preston lad may have been another the forces of good might have used to do battle against evil. The elder Dumbledore didn’t share everything with his brother, though. He couldn’t help but worry the young man could fall victim in another way, if the right dark lords got their wicked hands on him.

Shortly after the Chief Justice had started using the Orb of the Oracle, the old headmaster considered having him seek out the young man. However, knowing the great effort it took for Webster to use the device, the fact both men had more on their plates than they could handle effectively and being that he had no one to send to encounter the young man if he was found, Albus Dumbledore decided to wait. He was too old to go traipsing off after him himself, anyway. The old professor did spend considerable time deciding what he would do, though, if or when the opportunity ever presented itself.

And that opportunity was now. Athena and Coeus were still gathering intelligence on the Death Eaters in Belgium. It was going painfully slow. Although Minister Bones still had his man in place within the organization, it wasn’t bearing much fruit. But the Department of Special Investigations was just putting together enough information to begin their initial operational planning. Most frustrating was the fact they had to wait until Olsto Fierkin called a meeting that would be attended by the largest possible number of their evil alliance. Attacking such an assemblage in that way had proven itself to be the most advantageous and effective way to deal with large, evil organizations.

But Olsto Fierkin was not a reckless or stupid man. He had deduced what had happened to Cetus, Malfoy, Nott and others. What exactly had transpired was never published, but it didn’t take a man of any great intelligence to figure it out. Too many were killed too quickly. The only way that could have happened, Fierkin reasoned, was an attack on large meetings. And he knew, firsthand, Cetus and Malfoy were both men who loved gathering their subordinates around them. It allowed them an opportunity to flaunt their power and bask in the attention of lesser lords.

Albus Dumbledore had also reasoned Olsto Fierkin would be cautious. All he had been told about the man pointed to that very fact. He was too sly, too cunning and just too damn smart. Dumbledore had warned Minister Bones of this, too. The evil man would, if given enough time, discover the spy within his wicked organization. It would mean the man’s death, after he was tortured to reveal all he knew. “Jeremiah, you must tell your man in Belgium to get out the first time he senses something is not right. We wouldn’t want him to risk his life anymore than he already has,” Dumbledore had told the Minister at their last meeting.

Olsto Fierkin was holding his cards close to his chest. He had been very secretive, too secretive, and Professor Dumbledore didn’t think this would change. They must wait for an error to be made, an error in judgment. The error might be something seemingly insignificant, a slip by someone close to Fierkin disclosing too much about a plan or letting too many people know when and where a meeting was to be held.

Chief Justice Webster, Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape and Harry had discussed the many variables they had to factor into their operational planning. Sirius and Remus both favored a series of attacks to kill as many as they could and keep the others’ heads down. Webster and Dumbledore both considered the strategy carefully but decided it was safe enough to wait for Minister Bones’ man to give them a better grasp of the Death Eaters’ identities and numbers.

Webster demanded their teams be ready to strike at a moments notice. “We can’t let them have time to scatter. If a meeting is called sufficiently large enough to get the majority of Fierkin’s people, we must strike immediately. But Bones must find a way to warn his man to clear out. We’ll have no time to start guessing who he might be. If he gets caught in the middle of a raid, he will likely die,” the Chief Justice had said. There was no disagreement with that.

Most troubling to Professor Dumbledore, however, was an admission Harry had made. He had come to the headmaster’s office in early January and revealed something very troubling.

“Professor, the last two nights my scar has itched me wickedly. It isn’t the burning sensation I had when Voldemort was alive. But it’s worrying me, nonetheless,” Harry confessed to the old wizard with a very troubled and anxious look on his face.

“Harry! What are you telling me? Is Voldemort trying to resurface? Is he trying to take over the body and mind of another?” Dumbledore asked, very apprehensive about the revelation.

“I can’t say, Professor. I sense something is wrong but what, I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You must keep me informed, Harry. If there are any changes, you come to me at once. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied.

“I’m glad you’ve come to see me. There are things we must discuss. I may need to send you on a quest, Harry - - - a journey that may prove very important to our cause. I’m not sure when, yet, but I’m thinking in the next few days or weeks. At first I believed it might have meant going to Canada, but I no longer sense that,” the old wizard said, looking down at his desk in contemplation.

Harry permitted the old wizard a minute of thought before anxiously asking his question. “What am I to do?”

“I’m trying to locate an old student that attended my youngest brother’s school, Harry - - - the British Columbia School of Magic. I feel it is very important for us to do so, and I’m hoping we aren’t too late,” Dumbledore said, looking up at Harry before once again looking down at his desk. He picked up a glass bowl of lemon drops and offered one to Harry.

He went on to tell Harry about Austin Riley Preston and what had happened to his parents. The old wizard told him about the young man’s abilities. “We can’t be sure, of course, of his present mental state, but we must try to reach him. It will be important to future plans, Harry. On that, though, I cannot fully speculate or discuss at the present time. I will need you to trust me.”

“And you wish me to - - -?” Harry asked, arching his eyebrows, still not understanding the exact nature of his assignment.

“You must find the young man and offer him a position with Athena. I’m sure he has much stored up hostility towards the Death Eaters. After you tell him what we are trying to do, I’m hoping he will be willing to join us, don’t you see.” Dumbledore said, tilting his old head back and peering at Harry through the lenses of his glasses.

“Do you believe we really need more help, Professor? We’ve been so successful at everything we’ve done,” Harry asked.

“Just stop and think of what brought you to see me today, Harry. You are concerned about Voldemort, about the possibility he might be ready to reappear. Now, if you will, multiply that fear by a factor of ten or even one hundred. That is likely what we face. There is great evil about Harry. Many exist just as powerful as Voldemort and even more so. They have been content, thankfully, to stay put within their own domains. We might not be so lucky in the future. My biggest fear, young friend, is for the likes of Voldemort, Fierkin and other powerful lords to unite in an evil alliance. If that should happen, we are desperately undermanned and in great trouble,” Dumbledore explained, plainly seeing the effect his statements had on Harry.

“Of course, I’ll be ready to go as soon as you want me to,” Harry replied, with frightful visions of Voldemort streaming through his mind.

“That’s the spirit. Yes. But first, we must ask the Chief Justice to attempt to locate the young man for us. As I told you, many have tried and failed. No one has any idea where the young man is, and many believe him to be dead. I do not. I should think the Chief Justice will find him soon enough with the Orb of the Oracle,” the old wizard said with a smile.

Harry nodded his head, but he was still terribly troubled over what Professor Dumbledore had said about other evil lords, some even more powerful than Voldemort. “How could that be possible?” he asked himself. “If they’re so strong, why haven’t they made an appearance before now?”

Professor Dumbledore once again told Harry how important it was to fight small battles they could totally dominate and avoid a large head-to-head confrontation against superior numbers of combined evil forces. Harry understood the strategy but still couldn’t believe there were that many evil witches and wizards willing to risk everything to take control of the Ministry or the Hall of Justice. What could it possibly benefit them? Why would anyone risk his or her very life just for more power? It was beyond him.

“That is the nature of man, Harry,” the old wizard said. “History is full of such pursuits of absolute power. Many millions of innocents have died, most often just because of one man’s desire for more power, more land, more wealth or more of just about anything. It is beyond me, too, my young friend, to fully understand it. But, alas, it is the nature of man - - - a hunger for absolute authority and control.”


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


On the following Saturday morning, Professor Dumbledore took his breakfast with the Chief Justice, Harry and Hermione at the Hall of Justice. Just the day before, Webster had agreed to use the Orb of the Oracle to find Austin Preston. Due to the difference in time zones between Scotland and North America, the two older men reasoned they would probably more easily be able to ascertain the young man’s location if the Orb was used to search in the evening. Arrangements were made to begin their search at about six that evening. If Preston was still in western Canada, there was an eight-hour difference in time zones. Therefore, a search at six in the evening in Scotland would make it ten in the morning in western Canada. A good image of the young man during the day might go a long way in ascertaining his exact location, they reasoned.

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


Harry and Hermione went back to their bedroom after breakfast. Upon closing the door, he reached out and pulled her to him. Holding her close, he turned his head, burying his nose into her hair and inhaling her freshness.

Hermione knew what Harry was wanting. She stood still as he inhaled her unique scent. The strong charm that protected the Hall of Justice not only increased his sexual craving but his other senses as well.

Harry kissed Hermione’s cheek before lightly kissing her moist, soft lips. They kissed and hugged each other gently for long minutes before strong sexual desires overtook them.

Soon they lay naked on their large bed atop a fresh, white bed sheet. Laying on their sides, Harry slowly began brushing his fingertips lightly over Hermione’s soft, firm body, kissing her forehead, her cheek and mouth. Hermione, in turn, played her fingers over Harry, exploring his tight frame, kissing his chest, shoulders and neck.

The love they shared for one another was intense. And it had grown much deeper over the past months. Harry knew it didn’t have anything to do with the powerful charm at the Hall of Justice. It was much different from the lust he felt for the other girls. His desire to be forever with Hermione was real love. It made him feel whole. She was a part of him, as he had become a part of her.


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


Chief Justice Webster was seated behind the desk in the office next to Martha’s when Professor Dumbledore again arrived at the Hall of Justice. Harry and Hermione were standing behind the large man, as he reached out to slide the Orb of the Oracle to him.

“What is the young man’s name, Albus?” Webster asked.

“Austin Riley Preston.”

Webster turned and straightened himself in the chair. He lifted his large hands to either side of the orb, laying his elbows on the corner of the desk. The globe instantly responded to his presence. It quickly doubled in size and then doubled again. The blue pulsing light became very intense before a cloudy mist filled the sphere.

“Find Austin Riley Preston,” he commanded, intently staring into the mist.

The mist swirled about the globe and cleared. A dark-haired young man was seen removing baling wire from a bale of hay before breaking it apart and hefting it up into a hayrack. Webster manipulated the image, pulling back and willing his vision to turn around. He inhaled loudly and the image was lost. The Chief Justice pushed himself back from the desk into the three standing closely at his back.

“What’s wrong, Dan?” Professor Dumbledore asked. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I know this place, Albus. This isn’t Canada. This is Texas. He is in the mountains of west Texas,” Webster replied, breathing hard from the exertion.

“Texas? Are you certain?”

“Yes, I know the place, Albus. I will look again to be certain, but I’m sure I recognized it well enough,” he replied.

Dumbledore called out for tea. Instantly a large tea service appeared on a countertop against the wall. Hermione hurriedly poured a large glass of Merlin’s Special Brew for her boss. He quickly emptied the glass, and she brought him another.

Webster again turned to the orb and pulled his chair up closer to the desk. He raised his hands and quickly reacquired the image. Again, the young man filled the globe. He was seen bunching up baling wire in his hands and walking to a tack room. Throwing the wire into a large barrel, he closed the tack room door and then opened a gate. Several horses ran into the larger pen to attack the hay in the hayrack.

The Chief Justice followed him as he walked to a small white house - - - a line shack. It was of clapboard construction with a tin roof. A small fence encircled the yard. The young man made his way to the door and went inside. Webster willed the orb to follow him, and they soon saw him standing in the kitchen at an old propane stove. It appeared the young man was going to cook his breakfast.

Webster then willed the image to pull back, and he again scanned the countryside. Slowly the vantage point changed, it was lifting into the air, higher and higher. The man then slowly swung the image around, allowing all to see what he himself wished to see from a greater height. Webster let go his breath, exhaling loudly and instantly lost the image. He slumped back into the chair totally exhausted.

“Do you know it, Dan?” Dumbledore asked excitedly.

“Yes, Albus. I know exactly where it is. I lived there for six years, some twenty-five years ago. It has changed little, though,” he replied, gasping at the air as if he had just finished running a marathon.

“You lived there, Your Lordship?” Hermione asked, hardly believing what he had just said.

“Yes, Hermione. I worked on that ranch. I know it well. It’s in the Barilla Mountains - - - northeast of Fort Davis. It’s a very large cattle ranch. The small house you saw is called South Camp. It’s back behind the mountains through a saddle, about ten miles from the ranch headquarters,” Webster informed them.

“Did you see how he was dressed?” Harry asked, looking around at Dumbledore and Hermione.

“His clothes are exactly what one would wear doing his work, Harry. Those old faded jeans, the faded denim shirt and scuffed up boots are exactly what people wear out there. It must be a warm January morning, though, as he only had on a light denim jacket. Unseasonably warm, I’d say.”

“I find his working on the same ranch that you did to be beyond any possible chance of coincidence, Your Lordship. Something must have urged him to seek employment there. This is very queer, indeed,” said Dumbledore.

“I agree. I don’t have a clue, though. But queer is putting it mildly, I’d say,” Webster stated, looking up at the old professor and seeing the puzzled expression on his face.

“You can tell me exactly where it’s located, Your Lordship?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry. Exactly.”

“When should I start, Professor?” Harry asked.

“First, Harry, we must visit my brother Martin in British Columbia. I want you to learn all there is to know about the young man before you approach him. My brother taught him for six years. I’d say he knew much about his ways, his mannerisms,” the old wizard said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why would a wizard with his abilities be doing such menial work, Professor? Something’s not at all right about this,” Hermione stated, concerned there might be an evil scheme at work. She knew this wasn’t just some weird coincidence.

The old headmaster shrugged his thin shoulders. “I cannot say, Hermione. It’s possible he’s living without using any magical abilities at all. You both know, of course, it’s entirely possible to make out quite well without using one’s magical abilities. After all, each of you was unable to use them away from Hogwarts until you reached seventeen. Yes, I’m sure he’s making out quite well enough, but it’s still very strange. I must agree,” Dumbledore replied.

“He’s living such a solitary existence. I didn’t see anyone else around,” Harry said.

“It isn’t that bad, Harry. I lived there six years myself. You still see folks most days. It does get awfully lonely at times, though. I certainly wouldn’t recommend it for most people, however. It takes a certain type of person to live like that very long,” Webster said, looking up at Harry who still had a disbelieving look upon his face. “Many men lived like that in the early years of American expansion. Some, we call mountain men, didn’t like the company of others at all and sought out places to live far removed from civilization. Those very men trail blazed the old west, as we say across the pond. They opened up the west for settlement.”

“But it seems so pointless today, Your Lordship,” Hermione said.

“Maybe to some, Hermione, but it’s work that must be done by someone, nevertheless,” Webster replied, somewhat amazed they found it so strange. A life he lived so long himself, one of solitude, for sure, but it was a life he often found himself thinking about during quiet moments. He looked back fondly on those times. He found himself wishing he were Harry. It would be grand to go back and pay a visit to that rugged old ranch.

Chief Justice Webster pointed out the exact location of the line shack on a map Hermione brought from the library. Harry wrote down the coordinates on a piece of parchment and would use the muggle-made GPS equipment to locate it. He had fixed the images of the country in his mind and knew he would have no problem finding it. Webster also told him of specific landmarks to look for.

Professor Dumbledore and Harry soon walked out into the large anteroom of the Hall of Justice. On the far right, they approached an arch, which bore the seal to the British Columbia School of Magic. The old wizard reached out and took Harry’s hand, closed his eyes and whispered “BC”. In a flash of emerald green light, they found themselves standing within a very modern looking office.

Harry looked around and was awestruck by the many wonderful devices, which filled every nook and cranny along three walls within the large office. Bookshelves went from floor to ceiling. Most were filled with books, but other devices, many of which Harry had never seen before, also set on the shelves. Natural light flooded into the room from two large skylights. A huge “L” shaped desk sat near the rear wall. On the desk was a large computer monitor, and the credenza behind the desk was overflowing with computer software boxes and books.

Professor Dumbledore was just turning to walk toward the door when an old wizard opened it and stepped inside.

“Martin!” Albus exclaimed. “So good to see you brother.”

“Albus! What an unexpected pleasure! How are you?”

“Fine, fine! It’s been many months. You look to be in fine shape,” Albus Dumbledore said, tilting his head forward and peering into his younger brother’s eyes over the top of his glasses.

“Yes, I’ve been very well, thanks to God above. And who might this be?” Martin Dumbledore said, stepping to one side. He suddenly caught his breath at the sight of the young wizard before him. “Harry Potter! In the flesh!”

Harry smiled and walked to the headmaster, holding out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Professor.”

“Martin! You must call me Martin, Harry! We’re not that formal here at BC. It’s so grand to finally meet you, my boy!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I must give Harry a tour of the school, Albus. I believe he’ll be most impressed. You’ll find us much different from Hogwarts, Harry. A world of difference,” Martin said excitedly.

“Martin!” the elder wizard exclaimed. “We might need to wait on that tour. We’re here on somewhat pressing business.”

“Business? What could be that important, Albus? Surely a couple of hours wouldn’t be too much to ask?” Martin requested, arching his eyebrows at his brother hopefully.

“We’ve located Austin Preston, Martin,” Albus said.

“You what? How did you do that, Albus? He’s alive? I knew it!” Martin exclaimed, a large grin came instantly to his face. “Please sit down, brother. You must tell me what you know. Harry, sit there, please.”

“The Chief Justice was able to find him using a device as old as Edward D’Mar. He appears to be working on a ranch in west Texas, Martin. Harry has been tasked to approach the young man. It is our hope to have him join our crusade, if he wishes to do so, of course,” Albus informed his younger brother, watching his face carefully to see how he would take the information.

“I see. Harry, I can’t for the life of me explain why Austin suddenly dropped out and sought seclusion. Many, of course, thought him dead. I never really believed that, though. Do you know how he’s getting along, Albus?”

“Yes indeed, we saw him at work. He appears to be doing very well, from what we could tell, physically that is. But we don’t know his mental state,” Albus said.

“He was such a bright lad. His magical abilities were beyond any I have ever seen or read about. I can’t honestly say if even Edward D’Mar himself was able to do some of the things Austin can or could do. But he was a good boy, Albus. Good to the very marrow of his bones. It’s been over ten years, now - - - ten long years. What could have happened to him in that time, I don’t know.”

“We plan on finding out, Martin. As you’re aware, we’ve been working relentlessly to put an end to every evil lord and associate we can find. Our work is far from over. I do not doubt we face many powerful evil beings, yet. Austin could be of great help to us,” the old wizard told his brother, hoping he would better undersand their pressing need.

Martin Dumbledore sat back in his chair and nodded his head. His gaze shifted from his brother to Harry. “What would you like to know, Harry?”

“I guess I would like you to start at the beginning. I want to know what you knew of his parents, where he was raised, what were his friends like, what did he enjoy the most. Things like that,” Harry said.

The younger Dumbledore called out for refreshments and a tray of tea appeared. There were many kinds of cookies, crackers and other treats Harry had never seen before. Martin picked up the large tray and carried it over to a conference table. He motioned the two over to join him. After serving up tea for his guests, he settled back into a large chair and began.

He told Harry and his older brother everything he could remember about Austin Riley Preston. The boy was an only child, born in Texas while his parents were on a mission along the Texas-Mexican border seeking out old Indian cave drawings. At the time, their specific interest had been medicine men and other supernatural healers of Native America.

Martin Dumbledore spoke of his mannerisms and character. For hours, he went on, always coming back to the terrible events surrounding the death of his parents. It had clearly been at the hands of Death Eaters while they were doing research in Europe. No one doubted Voldemort was at the very heart of the matter.

“Harry, if you should have any problems with him, please come back to fetch me. I might be able to reach him. And I have something I wish you to take to him, too,” Martin said. He came to his feet and quickly walked to his desk. He sat down in his chair and reached down to open one of the lower drawers. Once he found what he was looking for he came back to the table. Swinging from his fingers was a gold chain with a small cross hanging from it. “Here, Harry, take it.”

Harry reached out and the necklace fell into his open hand. It was heavier than it appeared to be. “This was his?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry. He took it off right after his parents died. For some days, Austin stayed in his room. He was an emotional wreck, as one can only imagine. At some point, he took off the necklace and dropped it on top of his chest of drawers. As soon as the school year was over, before I had a chance to sit him down and discuss what options he had, he simply disappeared,” Martin Dumbledore said, a great sadness appeared in his eyes. “I blame myself for not talking to him sooner. I was hoping he would have remained at BC during the summer. Of course, he had many friends he could have visited, too, but it never came to pass.”

“We’ve all made such mistakes, brother. I have many, many regrets myself. Too many to count,” Albus said, reaching out and placing a hand upon his brother’s shoulder.

Harry slowly nodded his head. “His faith was shaken. I understand. For many years, I couldn’t even believe in God. How could he have allowed an evil man to end my parents’ lives? Why did he allow them to be taken away from me? I was just a baby. I’ve had no one. No family at all. I know, to some degree, how he must have felt. But it must have been so much harder on him. After all, he was sixteen years old when they were killed. He must have missed them terribly,” Harry said, looking down at the small cross dangling from the necklace. He was so overwhelmingly sad for the young man he had never met. On that level, they had much in common.

“Be careful, Harry,” Martin Dumbledore warned. “We don’t know his state of mind, and even though I find it hard to believe he might strike out, if he does, Austin is very powerful. Please be careful.”

“Yes, I understand. Do you have a portkey link anywhere close to Texas?”

“Yes, we do but you must link through the North American Ministry’s Office. I can take you through when you are ready. I’m sure there must be a link to El Paso. If you are lucky, there might even be a closer one. Understand, however, once you make an appearance at the Ministry, everyone will know you are up to something. I’m sure it won’t be long before every evil wizard in North America will have that knowledge.”

“Is there anyway we can avoid going to the Ministry? What other links are there?” Harry asked, desperate to avoid being seen.

“We have one from the school to Santa Fe, New Mexico. But it is far from where you must go, Harry. One of our instructors has a little research project going on down there,” Martin Dumbledore explained.

“I like the sound of that much better,” Harry said.

“But if you have to travel by broom, Harry, you are very likely to be seen unless you travel at night,” the headmaster said.

“We have other ways, Martin. Harry can travel without being seen. I believe that would be best, Harry. I do not trust those hanging around at the Ministry offices. The evil lords will surely have eyes and ears around to spot any activity out of the ordinary. Is there a way you can distract your instructor in Santa Fe, brother? It would be best if Harry could use the portkey without being seen by anyone,” Albus Dumbledore said.

“Yes, I could use the portkey first and come back here for Harry after it’s clear for him to use it. Whatever you decide, we can make it happen,” said the younger Dumbledore.

“Excellent. That may be best. What do you say, Harry?”

“I agree. I want to travel during the day, if possible. I’ll be back here at four o’clock tomorrow morning, your time. Would that be all right?” Harry asked the headmaster.

“Yes, by all means, Harry. I’ll be waiting for you,” Martin replied.

“Brother, I don’t really need to stress how important it is that no one knows we’ve been here. Everything we do must be done in total secrecy. To do otherwise would risk innocent lives. I’m sure you understand?” Albus Dumbledore asked his younger brother, lifting his head to peer into his eyes.

Professor Dumbledore’s brother nodded his head. “Yes, I understand. I do regret you won’t be able to take the grand tour, Harry. Maybe one day you can come back. We’ve some of the most beautiful scenery here in British Columbia one could ever possibly wish to see,” Martin Dumbledore said.

“I look forward to it.”

Professor Dumbledore and Harry returned to the Hall of Justice. They spoke for some minutes within the anteroom.

“If he resists or seems obstinate, don’t spend too much time. If he doesn’t wish to return of his free will, he would never be of any use to our crusade,” the old wizard told him.

“I understand. Though we won’t know till I talk to him. Whatever happens, the ball is in his court,” Harry said.

Professor Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head. He was very proud of the young man standing before him. Yet, he feared greatly for him. There was so much he had yet to face. Harry must surround himself with the ablest of beings, if he was to ever reach the goal the old wizard had in mind for him.