All Kinds of Directions

“So the protective spells were definitely tested, then?” Ron asked Harry as they made their way upstairs from the kitchen. It was the next day, and they’d just Flooed back to the house from Fred and George’s shop, where an owl had been waiting for Harry from Professor McGonagall.

“Minerva said they were,” Harry confirmed. “Last night, maybe four hours after we snatched Draco. But fortunately the spells protecting Hogwarts are just way too powerful, even for Voldemort; Minerva said they’ve been strengthened by every Headmaster since the Founding.”

Ron whistled appreciatively. “No one person’s going to break through that, then,” he said , sounding a bit proud of his former school. “So that’s it? Voldemort couldn’t break through so he gave up?”

“He gave up trying to break through,” Harry corrected. “He sent over a hundred Dementors to try to get in instead.

“Over a hundred?” Ron squeaked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shivering. The letter McGonagall had sent had reminded him of the end of his third year, when he’d faced down a similar number of Dementors while trying to save Sirius.

“So did they get in?”

“No! No, the protection spells worked on them too. Minerva said that Dumbledore saw to that himself after…after the Third Task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

“Oh.” Ron nodded sharply. “Right. He must’ve known right then that the Dementors would turn on the Ministry.”

“Dumbledore even said so,” Harry reminded Ron. “Right when I was in the hospital ward after the Third Task, Dumbledore warned Fudge to take control of Azkaban away from the Dementors. I bet the headmaster did it right then.”

At that moment, Ron and Harry had drawn even with the door to the conference room on the second floor—or rather, where the door should be…it vanished when closed to ensure the most privacy for those inside. But the door abruptly shimmered into existence just beside Harry; it swung open in front of them, and Hermione stepped out.

Harry yelped, stumbling backward; he tripped himself up and fell, ending up sprawled back on his arse and elbows. “Wh—wh—” he stammered.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed in alarm, hurrying forward as Ron went to help Harry. Padma, Sally-Ann and Terry all appeared in the doorway, looking curiously down at Harry. “Are you all right?”

“Me?” Harry said. “Me? You—you’re walking!”

“Oh,” Hermione said, and flushed slightly. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten you didn’t know….”

“Know what?” Harry demanded, ignoring Ron’s efforts to help him up. “You’re cured?”

“No! Oh, stop it,” Hermione huffed at the three Ravenclaws, who were all chortling at Harry’s dumbfounded expression. “This is exactly why I haven’t told almost anyone—I didn’t want them to get the wrong impression!” She turned back to Harry and sighed. “It’s a Levitation Charm, Harry. I’ve been practicing it constantly for a good while now, and I’ve reached the point where I can maintain the Charm without thinking about it. I can hold it for better than an hour before I get too tired.”

Harry stared in utter shock. Admittedly, he hadn’t been around magic as long as people like Ron or Ginny, and he hadn’t read about it as extensively as Hermione, but one thing he did know was that Levitation Charms were notorious for being very difficult to master; even the best wizards in the world had difficulty maintaining them for more than a few minutes. When he’d started at Quidditch, Harry had been curious whether a Levitation Charm might help if he fell off his broom, but he’d quickly abandoned the idea when he realized he had almost no chance of successfully casting one.

After a few seconds under Harry’s gobsmacked stare, Hermione flushed. “It’s not that significant,” she said, trying to dismiss it.

Harry turned and glared accusatorily at Ron. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Er, yeah,” Ron admitted sheepishly. “Hermione asked me not to tell anyone.”

“Oh, forget it, Harry,” Hermione said impatiently. “Come inside, we need to talk to you both.”

Harry finally let Ron help him up. “Does Ginny need to hear whatever you want to say?” he asked.

“She was with us an hour ago,” Sally-Ann offered. “We’ve only made a bit of progress since then—you can fill her in on anything she’s missed later.”

“All right,” Harry agreed. “But Hermione, we have that, er, thing tonight, remember?”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were going to meet Seamus in secret that night, and even though it was only just past noon, after what had happened when they’d met with Ernie MacMillan their preparations for this meeting would take them the better part of the afternoon. “Ginny left to begin preparing,” Hermione said with a nod. “This won’t take very long.”

Harry nodded, and he and Ron followed Hermione back into the conference room. “So you’ve made some progress, then?” he asked once the door was shut again.

“Yes, definitely,” Hermione said, nodding. “The information Terry, Sally-Ann and Padma have compiled is remarkable, and we’ve begun to form it into a whole. But they should tell you, as they’ve done most of the work on that.”

Padma snorted, but made no further comment, and Harry suppressed a grin; he knew Hermione was trying to be fair, but he had no doubt that she’d made at least as much of a contribution as the others. “Okay,” he said. “The most important thing is: Is it possible to bring Neville’s memories back without one of us being taught how to do it by a Healer?”

“The short answer is yes,” Terry said. “It’s possible, in theory. There are a few key things standing in out way, though.”

“Like what?” Ron asked.

“Our information is incomplete, for one,” Sally-Ann told them. “We have the basic shape of how to undo the Memory Charm but we don’t know it exactly. We can probably extrapolate it, but we don’t think it’s safe to take that kind of a chance on something like this.”

Harry didn’t know what extrapolate meant, but he understood the rest. “No chances,” he said firmly. “We aren’t risking messing with Neville’s head again. We have to be sure we’ve got it right.”

“Which leads to another problem,” Padma said wryly. “I’m confident that with some work we can figure out what to do. But even if we believe we’ve filled in the gaps and covered all the bases, how can we know? The answer is, we can’t—not without a Healer’s instruction.”

Harry grimaced; that had occurred to him, but he didn’t see any other way around it.

“Harry,” Hermione said, “I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting any longer. With Neville’s memories beginning to resurface, even in dreams, we simply can’t take the time to confirm our work with a Healer.”

“Yeah,” Harry said reluctantly. “I think you’re right. I don’t like it, but we’ve run out of options.” He sighed. “All right—let’s go forward like we’re going to act on what you put together. How long do you think it’ll take before you’ve got a solid idea of what to do?”

“I’d say another four or five days until we’ve got the Charms worked out,” Padma answered. “But I’d really like another few days after that to double-check everything.”

“Personally I’d rather not even consider trying to remove the Memory Charm on Neville without testing it first,” Terry admitted nervously. “I understand we have severe time constraints, but still…”

“Why don’t you test it on Lockhart?” Ron suggested.

“Absolutely not, Ron!” Hermione shot back instantly. “Neville gave Harry permission to make the attempt before he was Obliviated, but Professor Lockhart isn’t involved in this fight!”

“Okay, okay,” Ron said defensively. “Just an idea.”

Harry frowned. “Have you got any ideas why Neville’s memories are coming back at all?” he asked, directing the question to Sally-Ann. “It’s just not supposed to happen—I don’t like the idea that my Memory Charms are that bad.”

Sally-Ann, Padma and Terry all exchanged thoughtful looks. “We’ve been talking about it,” Sally-Ann said hesitantly. “We have a theory, but we can’t really know for certain.”

“Well, what’s the theory?” Ron asked.

Padma replied, taking a moment to collect her thoughts first. “A Memory Charm is a Charm based on will,” she said. “The very purpose it serves is to make the target forget something that happened, so when it’s cast, the caster is supposed to have the will, the intent, for that to happen. But Harry, when you cast the Charm on Neville you really didn’t want to; you knew it was necessary for the sake of our safety, but you didn’t actually want to rob Neville of his memories. So the will to cast the Charm wasn’t there. Because you’re a strong wizard the Charm took, but your reluctance in casting an intent-driven Charm may have caused it not to take as firmly as it could have.”

Harry thought about that. “I guess that makes sense,” he said finally. “So that would mean that when I really want it to work, my Memory Charms would be fine?”

“Most likely,” Sally-Ann answered. “Remember, it’s just a theory.”

Harry nodded, a bit relieved; he didn’t like to think that if he Obliviated someone he couldn’t be confident it would hold. “Right. Well, if there isn’t anything else, we should go get ready,” he said to Hermione and Ron.

“Actually, there’s one more thing you should know,” Terry said. “We’re still working on figuring out the process, but at the moment it’s looking like it will actually take two people to remove the Memory Charm, not one.”

“Two?” Harry repeated, confused. “Is that normal?”

“We don’t know,” Sally-Ann reminded him.

“But how would that work?” Harry asked. “I mean, I assumed from what you said before that I’d be doing it since I cast the Memory Charm in the first place.”

“You would definitely be the first choice,” Padma said. “But someone else capable of Legilimency will need to assist you.”

“I suggested Lavender,” Hermione told Harry. “Considering how proficient she’s become with Legilimency.”

Harry nodded; Lavender had managed to remove a memory from Sybil Trelawney without the former Professor even noticing. “Okay, that sounds good. When we go upstairs I’m going to send Lavender down here; will you three fill her in on what we’re doing and explain what you think you’ll need her to do? Once you have a better idea of what it’ll take we can all get together and you can teach it to both of us.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione said goodbye to Sally-Ann, Padma and Terry, and headed upstairs to help Ginny prepare for that night. “Hermione,” Harry asked on the way, “Do you know if Pansy left the room Draco is in? I was a bit worried that he might…”

“She did,” Hermione assured him. “Last night before going to sleep I saw her go into her room. She looked… Well, she was keeping her expression completely neutral. I didn’t think that was a good sign.”

“Hmm… She didn’t come ask for her wand back this morning, either,” Harry said, putting his hand to his pocket to make certain Pansy’s wand was still there.

“Sounds like her reunion with Malfoy didn’t go quite how she planned it,” Ron put it.

“Do you want to check on her?” Hermione asked.

Harry thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t think Pansy would appreciate us sticking our noses in. If we still haven’t heard from her by tomorrow, I’ll check on her, but for now let’s let her deal with whatever happened how she wants to.”

*****

Seamus took the glass from the bartender and sniffed it; his eyes watered slightly, and he grinned in appreciation of the firewhisky’s strength. He took a tentative sip and savored the sharp, almost bitter taste; he was becoming almost a connoisseur of the finer wizarding liquors.

Turning to face the room, Seamus’ eyes caught the sight of blue-and-bronze just out of the corner of his eye; what looked suspiciously like a Ravenclaw scarf was wrapped around the neck of a squat, lumpy man who was hurrying out the back door. Careful not to acknowledge what he’s noticed, Seamus slammed back the firewhisky in one go, grimacing slightly as it burned its way down his throat. Then he casually stumped toward the back door, doing a believable impression of a young man who was drunk and trying not to show it.

The door swung shut behind Seamus, leaving him in a disgustingly filthy alley. He glanced one direction, only to have a wand tip pressed to his neck from the other. “All your Galleons, little one,” a voice hissed. “And don’t even think of going for your wand!”

Seamus turned his head slowly. “You’re calling me little one?” he said indignantly, looking down at the wizard who was more than a head shorter than him.

The wizard stepped back and pointed his wand at Seamus’ legs. “One more word or movement other than emptying your pockets, and I’ll blast your sodding legs off,” he growled. “Then we’ll see who’s shorter!”

Seamus hesitated; this wasn’t what he’d been expecting. In the moment where he paused, unsure what to do, two voices cried “Stupefy!” The little wizard collapsed in front of Seamus.

Huh, Seamus thought, but before he could say anything one of the voices snapped “Bindus Vox!” Seamus recognized the hex even without the telltale tingle at the back of his throat.

Two figures detached themselves from the piles of dirt and debris strewn throughout the alley and stalked toward him, wands raised. Seamus recognized the man who’d just left the bar; he looked vaguely familiar, but Seamus couldn’t place him. The other was a tallish, woman who looked a good bit like the man—possibly they were siblings.

While the man held back, wand at the ready, the woman walked up and peered closely at Seamus, who tried to step back away from the smell. Then she shrugged and muttered “Stupefy.”