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The Trio Reunited


Harry had shut himself in his office, despite Hermione’s suggestion that he go home for the day after the brush with the gorgon. She was worried, pacing outside his office. Finally, Ron came rushing down the hall, much to Hermione’s relief.

“Oi, what’s gone on?” Ron gasped as he came to a trotting halt.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Hermione said, hugging him, “I’m afraid you’re the only one he’s going to really talk to, Ronald. He won’t go home, and he says I’m interrupting him if I try to ask him about the details and -- oh Ron, he’s got to be upset.” She paused, pulling back from the hug and wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t change.”

Ron was still in his magenta Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes robes. “Well no,” he said, “Only you said it was urgent, so I thought --”

“It is urgent,” Hermione said.

“So what’s happened?” Ron asked.

Hermione frowned, “I don’t quite know the full story, but it seems there was a Patronus sent to Harry that claimed to have been sent to him from Lysander Scamander saying he was alive and being held in the Great North Woods by a gorgon.”

Ron’s eyes were wide. “Lysander Scamander? Luna’s missing boy?”

Hermione nodded solemnly, “Yes,” she replied.

“Blimey, a gorgon, ‘ey?” Ron asked. “But it’s impossible, isn’t it? Seventeen years? Lysander, alive?”

Hermione sighed, “I know. I was skeptical too. His rookie, Jade, came to me this afternoon asking for any information I could pull on the Great North Woods and Gorgons registered there but there weren’t any. There haven’t been any gorgons registered with the Ministry in ages.”

“I thought they were myth,” Ron shrugged.

“So did I,” Hermione admitted. “And I told Harry it was a foolish errand going up there to look into it, but you know Harry. He couldn’t handle the idea that Lysander might be there and he hadn’t looked, so against the Ministry’s recommendation, he got a couple younger aurors to go with him on a scout of the area. One of them, Jade, he was just out of Hogwarts, Ron…” she shook her head. “Now we have an auror killed and the matter of who this unregistered gorgon is and why there’s no record of magical families in the North Woods and Harry’s distraught and honestly Ronald I just don’t have enough time to do all of the paperwork that this is causing the offices, not to mention to try to comfort Harry and you’re so much better at that than I am anyway when he’s upset. So I’ll go and get my paperwork done and you just go in and --- Why are you shaking your head?”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, I’m not going in there alone,” Ron answered, pointing at the door of Harry’s office, “I don’t know what to say to him ‘bout all this!”

“Of course you do,” Hermione argued, “You’re his best mate.” And before he could argue any further, she turned to the door, opened it, pushed Ron in and unceremoniously announced, “Good luck,” before tugging the door shut behind him.

Ron stumbled into the room, nearly toppling over onto Harry’s desk.

“‘Bout time she actually pushed you in here,” Harry commented. He was surrounded by papers and open books and parchments with scribbled notes scrawled across them. His hair was a mess, his fingers having been running through it every now and then in frustration. “And I haven’t gone mad so you can relax. I’m fine.”

Ron stared at his friend a moment, “Are you sure? Because Hermione really thinks you might’ve gone nutters over this.” Ron didn’t say it, but his friend sure looked like he might’ve gone just a teensy bit crazy.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, distractedly. Then, “Ron -- you ever heard much about gorgons?”

“Only in stories,” Ron answered.

“Do the snakes usually just live in the hair, like a great big nest, or is the hair actually made of snakes?” Harry asked. He still hadn’t looked up from the books he had on the desk.

Ron paused. “Well, I s’pose a proper gorgon would actually have snakes instead of hair,” he answered, “But I don’t know, maybe there are different sorts.” He inched closer to the desk, “Hang on then… So did you actually see a gorgon?”

Harry leaned back, looking up at Ron for the first time, “Apparently not a proper one,” he answered.

“Blimey!” Ron replied. “What was that like, then?”

“Intense…” Harry answered. “We had a fight. She killed Jade.” His voice dipped emotionally. He frowned. “She was just shooting spells everywhere. Had me pinned at one point, then Goodings… and that’s when Jade…” he shook his head. “She was very strong.”

“What’d she look like?”

“Dark hair… thick, thick hair. Snakes were just crawling all over her head, slithering around through her hair.” Harry shuddered at the memory of it, “And she was cruel looking. Dark beady eyes and these thin, scowling lips.” He paused. “But her looks wasn’t the part of her that was most terrifying.”

“What part was?” Ron asked, eyes wide at the thought of such a monster.

“Her name,” Harry said. Ron looked confused. Harry explained, “She mentioned Voldemort. Ridiculed me in Parseltongue for believing that Voldemort was Slytherin’s Heir.”

“Well he was, wasn’t he?” Ron said, “Wasn’t his squib mother descended from Slytherin? What was her name?”

“Merope,” Harry replied. He could still see her in the memories of that old Ministry worker as clear as though he’d dipped his face into the Pensieve only yesterday rather than nearly forty years before. “But… but she wasn’t the only one in that family, Ron. Merope had an older brother, Morfin. He was terrible, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have found a wife and had a child.” He paused. “He went missing between when the cottage by the Riddles was blown up and when he got out of Azkaban. Could’ve been then.”

Ron’s face paled a tad, “What are you saying?”

“Well, what if Morfin went to the Great North Woods for real and had a wife and a kid,” Harry said, “Any children that Morfin had would’ve cancelled out the title of heir to Merope’s child…” he rubbed his chin, “Having Slythern’s blood in her veins would explain the Parseltongue.”

Ron’s eyes were wide. “So what now?” he asked anxiously.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied.

“Do you really think Lysander could still be there? After seventeen years? Alive?” Ron asked.

Harry hesitated, “Well… if he is alive, we need to act quickly because there’s no telling how long she’ll keep him alive. Especially now we’ve been there. I need to come up with a plan, and quickly, to go back there and check to be sure he’s not there...” He frowned and turned back to the files scattered across his desk.

Ron nodded. “Okay, then, let’s go. Of course I’ll need to go change first, I can’t wear magenta robes to something like that -- We’ll leave Hermione here, of course, she’s busy with paperwork, she won’t even need to know --” Ron started for the door.

“Hang on,” Harry said. “You’re not going up there. I’m not bringing anyone else up there to be killed by her like Jade was!”

“You’re not going alone!” Ron argued, “This is the bloody Deathly Hallows all over again,” he muttered.

“Exactly,” Harry said, “We don’t really know what we’re up against here. We don’t have any record how she’s done in school, don’t have an idea what sorts of curses she knows or anything. There’s never been a student at Hogwarts coming from that far north,” Harry explained, “Been over a century since any wizarding family’s been even reported there. But she’s obviously learned some powerful, Dark spells. We may not have the upper --”

“Of course you’d have the upper wand!” Ron exclaimed. “You’re Harry Potter! You defeated the most powerful dark wizard ever!”

“I knew how Voldemort thought,” Harry argued. “And I didn’t defeat him alone. I had friends --”

“Exactly,” Ron injected.

“-- and I had Dumbledore,” Harry finished.

“Dumbledore!” Ron’s face lit up. “Why don’t you go talk to Dumbledore’s portrait! He’ll know what to do.”

Harry frowned, “I thought of that, but unfortunately I can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” Ron asked.

“Because his portrait’s been missing since McGonagall was headmistress at the school,” Harry explained.

“Missing?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, “Professor McGonagall said one night Dumbledore told her to move his portrait to some secret place in the school and forbade her to tell anyone where it was at. She never told anybody, Ron, not even on her dying day. As far as I know, she was the only person who ever knew where the portrait was.”

Ron frowned, “Why would he do that?”

Harry shrugged, “Why did Dumbledore do any of the things he did? Dumbledore was secretive if he was nothing else.” He shook his head, “Dumbledore won’t be any help this time. I just got to go up there and hope for the best, I suppose.”

Ron frowned, “Not alone, you aren’t.”

Harry frowned back.

Ron stared him down until Harry finally sighed and looked away. Ron had won. Harry wouldn’t fight anymore about him coming along, which, Ron thought, he ruddy shouldn’t seeing as Ron was technically a trained auror, too, just that he’d left to work in the joke shop because it was more fun than being an auror had turned out to be in the end is all.

He cleared his throat, “Did you tell Luna?”

Harry shook his head.

There was an urgent sounding knock on the door. They both turned as Hermione came in. “Harry!” she said, “It just hit me... I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner…”

“What is it, Hermione?” Harry asked.

Ron frantically mouthed that Harry ought not to tell her about their plans to go to the Great North Woods without her from behind Hermione’s back.

“Xenophilius is a ghost at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, and?”

“We could go talk to him ---”

Harry held up his palm. “I’ve talked to Xenophilius before, Hermione, he can’t remember anything about dying.”

“But ghosts’ memories sometimes get better and clearer the longer they’ve been a ghost,” Hermione explained. “When death is fresh they’re less themselves because of the shock of being outside of the body, you see, so they might not know or remember quite as much. It’s been seventeen years now, Harry, he might remember more about it now.”

Harry gave Ron a look over her shoulder.

Hermione turned to see Ron signing frantically not to involve her and he quickly turned the action into running his hands through his hair.

Hermione turned back to Harry. “You’re not leaving me behind whatever it is you and Ronald have planned,” she said sternly.

Harry looked at Ron with a shrug, “Sorry, mate. She’s always been the brains of our operations, after all.”

Ron sighed. “Alright then.”