Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46850 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Goody Two Shoes

Draco looked back and scowled at the Aurors watching him as he stalked through powdery drifts of snow which had blown across the path leading from the castle down to the gates of Hogwarts. It was obvious that Dumbledore hadn’t told them why Draco was leaving, or he’d be in their custody by now.
Draco had packed up his trunk and left it with McGonagall to be shipped back to his parents’ estate in Wiltshire. The cold look in her eyes had strongly suggested that she was in the know, but keeping it to herself.
In a brief moment of panic, Draco had almost considered begging her to let him go back to Dumbledore’s office, to tell the headmaster that he’d changed his mind. But then Draco remembered that no matter what he did, the Dark Lord would find him one way or another. No! It was better to return home to his mother, and admit that he’d been found out.
There was still a possibility that Draco could restore the Dark Lord’s faith in the Malfoy family if he was given another chance. War was coming, and sooner or later, Potter and Dumbledore would have to leave the castle. Draco knew that there was no way he could take on Dumbledore in an open duel, but he could easily picture himself presenting up Potter’s severed head to the Dark Lord.
Surely that would be enough to restore the family honour. Draco imagined himself being showered with rewards, and having Granger in chains, naked and groveling at his feet, begging for a chance to satisfy his needs.
As the wrought-iron gates of Hogwarts swung closed behind Draco with a heavy clang, a bitter wind howled, clumps of snow falling from the swaying limbs of the trees on either side of the lane leading to Hogsmeade. Draco was startled out of his comforting reverie by a lanky figure lurching towards him, calling his name as he emerged from the shadows of the woods.
“Draco...” muttered the shivering former Potions professor. “I knew if I waited long enough...”
“Sir,” Draco gasped in shock. “What?... How? Dumbledore told me he’d captured you!”
“That senile old fool!” sneered Severus Snape. “He thinks far too much of himself. He forgets that he is not the only wizard with prodigious abilities. Feigning hunger as I languished briefly in a warded cell in the dungeons, I called for a House Elf. ... I was able to overcome the House Elf’s feeble mental defences with Legilimency and Imperius it, ordering it to apparate me beyond the wards guarding the grounds of Hogwarts, and to retrieve my wand from Dumbledore’s safe...”
“But how?” Draco’s brows furrowed in perplex. “The anti-apparition charms...”
“Are only keyed to a wizard’s magic,” Snape interjected. “The magic of House Elves are not blocked by the school’s wards.”
“Oh, er... of course,” Draco nodded, recalling what little he knew about the magic of House Elves. Snape glanced around, his glittering dark eyes taking in the surroundings, making sure that they were well and truly alone.
“We must make haste, Draco, before we are discovered. I presume the headmaster took your wand?”
“Actually, no!” Draco glowered again, shaking his head. “The idiot didn’t seem to care. He just told me to get out and give the Dark Lord a message...”
“Dumbledore’s arrogance will be his undoing.” Snape took note of the flicker of worry in Draco’s eyes when he mentioned the Dark Lord. “Fear not, Draco. I will take full responsibility for the failure of this mission. And I have information that the Dark Lord will find most useful, which will put us both back on a path to regaining his favour.
“Now come, Draco. Take my arm, so that I may apparate us both to your father’s estate....”
Snape took one last wistful look at Hogwarts, burying the truth of his loyalties deeply, in a crevice of his mind where the Dark Lord would never find it. Then without another word, Snape twisted into nothingness, vanishing with Draco, and the woods beyond the gates of Hogwarts were silent once more, save for the keening cry of rushing wind.

~o0o~
The new day - the day following the unofficial expulsion of Draco Malfoy - brought with it the arrival of more students, emerging from the green flames in the staff-room fireplace.
Harry spent his time with Hermione studying in the common room as Gryffindors gradually trickled in. There were few though, and most were greeting friends in the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Hermione to themselves.
Hermione was the first to spot them. Harry felt her stiffen slightly next to him, and looked up from the Third Year Ancient Runes textbook to see who she was looking at with such mixed emotions. He felt a slight tingle of trepidation, spying Ron and Ginny entering the Gryffindor Common Room.
Ginny grinned to see the pair of them sitting so closely together.
“How was Christmas, Hermione?” she asked. “Are you feeling a bit better then?”
“Much better, thank you!” Hermione nodded, smiling warmly back at Ginny. “Christmas was very nice.” Then Hermione and Ron said “Hi,” to each other politely but coolly, both looking very uncomfortable.
“I just saw Luna,” said Ginny. “She was asking about you too, Hermione.”
Hermione bit her lip anxiously, glancing at Ron, then at Harry.
“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Harry, sounding much braver than he felt inside. “I’m fine. You should go hang out with Luna and Ginny a bit.”
“Don’t be a prat!” Ginny hissed under her breath at Ron as she and Hermione passed by him.
Ron just nodded and shuffled his feet, peering awkwardly at Harry.
“Er... thanks for the muggle comics, Harry,” he muttered. “They were pretty cool. I’m not so sure about the Spiderman bloke though - bit too... spidery...” Ron added with a snort of nervous laughter.
“Oh, er... yeah!” Harry grinned. “Sorry! I didn’t think of that.”
“So, er... Was your Christmas okay? Hermione’s really alright then?”
“More or less.” Harry nodded, pleased to see a bit of real concern for Hermione in Ron’s eyes. “Well... it’ll be a good while before she really gets over it, probably,” he added. “I dunno how long... but yeah, she’s doing okay. And Christmas was good. ... Hermione’s parents were really nice, for the most part.
“It was a bit rough with her dad at first,” he added, half-smiling, “but he seems alright with me now.”
“Yeah... I don’t think Hermione’s dad likes me very much.” Ron let out another rather stiff snort of mirth. “I suppose it’s not too surprising that he warmed up to you though...”
The hint of bitterness in Ron’s tone was so mild at that last part, that Harry might not have paid it much attention in the past. But it was followed by another moment of awkward silence, and a flicker of something in Ron’s eye which made Harry’s middle squirm with discomfort. Harry really couldn’t think of an adequate response.
“So,” Ron went on, finally breaking the silence, and with an air of false nonchalance which ended on a slightly wounded sounding note, “what’s up with you and Hermione, anyway? Are you two an item now, or is that just my imagination?”
Harry grit his teeth, the squirming in his middle halted by a forming knot of tension. When Harry said nothing, still trying to work out a way to word things in a manner which wouldn’t escalate things, Ron continued.
“I mean, I suppose it’s perfectly normal for you to want to keep Hermione company, as a friend, after what happened to her,” he said, his tone now one of skepticism. “But you two looked awfully cozy together when we all left, and even chummier just now when we got back, so I was just wondering...”
“Really, Ron?” Harry suddenly blurted out, unable to contain himself. “You were ‘just wondering’...? Really? You sound more like you’ve got it all worked out already, to me...”
“Yeah... Maybe I do!” Ron snapped, his ears turning red. “Moody was at the Burrow late last night - I overheard him talking to Mum and Dad when they thought no-one was listening. ... So when were you going to tell me, Harry? ... I can’t imagine you and Hermione would be sharing private quarters unless you’d been together for a while...”
“I can’t imagine that you heard the whole story then,” Harry retorted bitingly. “Maybe you should’ve cleaned out your ears and listened a bit more carefully...”
“When did it happen, anyway?” Ron continued, as if he hadn’t heard a word that Harry had just said. “After Hermione set those bloody birds loose on me? Bet you two had a real good laugh about that one, didn’t you?”
“Bloody Hell Ron!” Harry shouted, having had enough. “How thick can you get? Hermione was crying all over me after you blew her off and snogged Lavender! ... Do you even know how bloody stupid you sound right now? Why the hell would she go to the party with McLaggen then, if she was supposedly with me? ...”
“How should I know why? Maybe you gave her the cold shoulder one day and she took him to get back at you!” Ron yelled. “All I know is that girls do weird things when they get jealous!”
Harry was absolutely floored.
“You’re joking right? Girls do weird things when they get jealous? Well what about you then? What the fuck do you think you’re doing right now, Ron? YOU’RE the one who’s crazy jealous! You sound bloody mental - like a paranoid lunatic - Just like when you thought I deliberately entered the Triwiz...”
“Oh, right! Throw that in my face again! Thanks Harry!”
“What? When did I ever throw that in your face? ...”
Harry was nearly beside himself now, his anger warring with his desire to make Ron see reason. But how on earth was he supposed to get through to his best friend when Ron was so caught up in some bizarre delusion? In frustration, Harry sharply raised his hand to rub at his scar, which had been burning intensely since yesterday.
Ron flinched, suddenly looking scared. “Don’t... I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I dunno what I’m saying!”
Harry dropped his hand quickly.
“Ron you don’t seriously believe I’d ever hit you, do you?” Harry peered at Ron, half-sympathetically, half-incredulously. “Mind you, after the way you hit me - while I was barely even awake - I do sort of owe you one,” he added pointedly.
Remembering the sharp blow to his head which Ron had given him when he had found Harry asleep in Fred and George’s bedroom during the summer, Harry now wondered if Ron had simply been jealous to find him in his house, as both Hermione and Fleur had been visiting too at the time, all under the same roof together.
Ron hung his head, looking extremely ashamed of himself, though there was still a strong hint of bitterness in his features.
“I’m sorry!” Ron muttered. “You’re right... I’m being really stupid! I dunno what comes over sometimes...”
“Jealousy, maybe?” Harry sighed, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head.
“Look...” said Ron, catching Harry’s tone, “I’m sorry I get so bloody jealous, alright? I just can’t help it sometimes, Harry! Why can’t you understand? Anyone’d be jealous of you! You always seem to get everything - glory, gold, all the girls always seem to want you... ”
“Lavender is snogging you, Ron, not me,” Harry retorted, shaking his head again in amazement. “She’s your girlfriend! Did you forget about her already?”
Ron swallowed, looking confused and sulky. Deep inside, Ron knew he was very lucky that one of the prettiest girls in school liked him enough to snog him, especially after all the cracks he had made about wanting to see ‘Uranus’ whenever Lavender’s unaspected planet had come up during Trewlany’s Astrology lessons.
But Lavender wasn’t Hermione. And for some reason that Ron couldn’t even fathom, the idea of Hermione being with anyone other than himself always made him jealous.
“No I didn’t forget about her,” Ron said finally. “Lavender’s great - perfect! The best looking girl in school,” he added, sounding slightly boastful, “except maybe for Greengrass, but she’s a Slytherin. But that’s not the bloody point, Harry. I’m sick of you always being so judgmental, like you’re better than me...”
“Judgmental? Me?” Harry wondered if Ron had finally cracked altogether, the strain of his last jealous outburst damaging a few brain cells. “Are you joking? Who took you back after you ditched me during the Triwiz? ... Me! I did! I didn’t even make you apologise... but I can see what a mistake that was now.
“Maybe if I’d given you the cold shoulder for a month or two instead of just forgiving you the moment you gave me puppy eyes after I defeated the Dragon, you’d’ve actually learned how it feels to be ditched by someone you trusted to always be there for you.
“And did I ever really give you a hard time whenever you were deliberately antagonising Hermione? Or going off on a jealous snit on her? Not nearly as much as I should have, obviously, and I regret it every single day now. ... You really need to sort yourself out and grow up, Ron!”
“There it is right there!” Ron shot back. “Telling me to grow up! ... Judgmental! As if you’re so grown up yourself! What a bloody joke! You’re no better than me - certainly not smarter. You’re just as rubbish as I am in Potions. It’s only because of the Prince’s book that you’re doing alright now... That book could’ve been mine just as easily, and I could be the one that Sluggy thinks is a genius.”
Harry tried to refrain from rolling his eyes, and failed miserably.
“Thought so!” Ron snorted, “You do think you’re better than me. You’re so high and mighty sometimes, Harry! ... Don’t you ever get jealous? I suppose not! What would the guy who has everything ever need to be jealous of?”
Harry swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a tinge of guilt. He pushed back at it, unwilling to let himself be turned into the villain of the piece; Harry wasn’t the one going around flying into jealous fits of rage all the time. But Harry couldn’t help feeling guilty, and thought that maybe Ron would be able to deal with things a bit better if he told Ron the truth.
“Yeah... actually I do get jealous, Ron. I just try not to be a git about it,” he said quietly. “I’m jealous of you!
“I was jealous of you when you got made Prefect - for starters. And sure, maybe I did feel like I’d done more to deserve being Prefect than you... but I knew it was just my jealousy talking. And I never once took it out on you!
“And... and more importantly, I’ve always been jealous that you have parents that are alive, and brothers, and a sister - a whole family who loves you! I know you’re always squabbling and giving each other a hard time... but it’s obvious that you all love each other.
“Yeah... even Fred and George love you. They’re just not very good at showing it... probably because they’re guys! Anyway, that’swhat makes me jealous, Ron!”
Ron stared at Harry in shock, his mouth gaping wide. That was the last thing he had expected Harry to say, and he had no idea how to respond.
“Oh!” he said, deflating slightly, looking even more confused. “Well... er... Sorry! Er...” Ron shut his mouth, his ears turning red again.
“I dunno what to say, Harry,” he finally said after a few moments had passed. “I don’t know how to be not jealous. I don’t know how you manage not to show it when you feel jealous. ... But that really doesn’t change things. Just because it’s easy for you to be a goody-two-shoes, doesn’t mean it is for me.”
Harry groaned and threw up his hands in exasperation. “You really think I’m a ‘goody-two-shoes’ after all the trouble I’ve caused, and all the stupid things I’ve done?”
“Yeah, Harry! I do!” said Ron seriously. “It’s not like you ever set out to cause trouble on purpose. All you ever do is stick up for people who need someone to stick up for them, and try to save them, and stand up against arseholes like Malfoy and You-Know-Who. You always try t’do the right thing, even if you do break a few rules in the process.
“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, mind you. It’s just... you can’t understand what it’s like not to be you... not to be as good a person as you! I dunno Harry, you’re my best mate, but sometimes, I still don’t get you... Bloody Hell! I don’t even get me!
“I dunno if I can do this right now.” Ron shook his head. “You and me - You’re a great guy Harry, but... I dunno! Just... just give me a bit of time to sort it all out - alright, Harry? I’m sorry for being such a bloody git! I really am! But I just need some time.”
Harry sighed, still not convinced that he was a “goody-two-shoes,” and gave Ron a sad little half-smile.
“Yeah... I know, Ron! It’s not like this is the first time. You always sort through it and come around eventually. And... and I’ll always be around for whenever you finally do get over it! ... But just keep in mind, Hermione is my girlfriend now, even though she wasn’t before we left for the Christmas holidays.
“So try to be a bit nicer to Hermione... okay! Or we might be having words again!”
“Yeah... I’ll try harder! I promise, Harry!” Ron swallowed, nodding.

~o0o~
Anxious about the reaction of other Gryffindors to the news that they were no longer residing in Gryffindor Tower in separate dorms, but together in Private Quarters, after Harry told Hermione about the row with Ron, Harry and Hermione avoided the Gryffindor common room altogether the rest of the day and the following morning. So they were the only ones who weren’t yet aware that Apparition Lessons were being scheduled until they arrived at breakfast the first day of term.
Ron was seated next to Lavender, looking a bit grumpy; and Lavender, who was chatting enthusiastically with Parvati about something, nudged Parvati when she spotted Harry and Hermione. Lavender and Parvati both giggled and waved. Ron looked even sulkier when Lavender leapt up from her seat and gave Hermione a big hug.
“I’m so happy for you, Hermione!” Lavender beamed, shooting Harry a vivacious smile as well. “Parvati and I were just agreeing about how much we always knew that you two would eventually end up together.”
Ron couldn’t help letting out a little snort; Harry tried to ignore him, catching the eye of Neville instead, who turned a bit pink.
“Of course, we didn’t expect you two to be shacking up together quite so soon,” said Parvati, grinning. “But I suppose it only makes sense that Dumbledore would want to put you both together somewhere a bit safer and more private than Gryffindor Tower,” she added perceptively.
Dora, who was standing nearby keeping an eye on things, overheard and raised her eyebrows, thinking that Parvati might have the makings of an Auror.
Surprisingly, other than a few sniggers and whispers, nobody seemed to be making too much of a fuss about the fact that Harry and Hermione were “shacking up.” Dora smirked a bit, as most of the comments that her sharp ears caught were more along the lines of “lucky bastards,” than anything particularly rude.
But for the most part, the topics of most importance on the tips of everyone’s tongue were the upcoming Apparition Lessons, and re-appointment of Professor Moody.
Harry’s eyes nearly fell out of his head when Dean pointed out Professor Moody up at the staff-table to Seamus.
“Blimey! I thought there was a jinx on the DADA post,” Harry murmured to Hermione. She looked pensive as she took a sip of tea.
“Well,” Hermione said after a moment of thought, “I suppose as he’s the real Moody, he never actually got a chance to be professor last time. So if the jinx is real, it won’t have applied to him yet.”
“Oh! Of course!” said Harry. “That makes perfect sense.”
Soon breakfast was finished. Harry and Hermione made to join the throng of students exiting the Great Hall, but they were briefly held back by Dora.
“Oi, Harry, Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that there’s another lesson tonight at eight pm in his office. I’m not sure what ‘e’s on about though.”
“Er... Thanks Dora!” Harry felt a bit perplexed. Since he and Hermione had grown closer to Dora over the Christmas holidays, he wasn’t very keen about keeping secrets from her. “Well, now’s really not a good time obviously - but maybe when I get back from the lesson tonight, you could hang out with me and Hermione in our quarters, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
“Righto! Sounds good Harry,” said Dora, grinning. “Now, don’t mind me the rest of the day. I’ll be lurking nearby you both, but I’ll try t’stay outta your hair.”
“Don’t be silly, Dora,” said Hermione earnestly. “You’re our friend.”
“But still officially an Auror,” Dora pointed out. “I gotta at least pretend to be a professional while I’m on the job,” she added with a wink. “Now go on, off to class - I’ll be right behind you.”
Harry felt more than a bit nervous as he followed Hermione to their first class, as his schedule had been rearranged slightly by McGonagall after a powwow with Dumbledore apparently. He and Hermione were now sharing all of their classes together, which meant no more Divination thankfully, but now he was stuck in two classes in which he was three and a half years behind the material.
“Professor Vector is really strict, Harry, but don’t worry,” said Hermione, as they made their way to Arithmancy. “I’m sure Professor McGonagall has explained the situation a bit to her.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself,” Harry sighed. “It didn’t really occur to me that Dumbledore would make our safety such a top priority that he’d actually have us put in all the same classes together.”
“It only makes sense, really, as we’re both more or less top targets, now that we’re a couple,” said Hermione sympathetically. “It’s easier to keep a protection detail on us if we’re together most of the time.”
“Yeah, I know! I’m just glad it’s Dora,” said Harry. “I think I’d go bloody mad if we had some random Order member or Auror on our tail...”
Arithmancy turned out to not be quite as horrible as Harry thought it would be, but he still felt pretty pathetic. Professor Vector had simply given Harry a spare Third Year textbook, and set him to reading it for the first lesson, and she and Hermione had both promised Harry as much tutoring as they had time for.
Harry began to feel a bit better about himself in Charms, when he realised that he had already learned the Aguamenti Charm in fourth year to face the Dragon.
“See Harry, I told you that you were brilliant at Charms,” Hermione whispered after Harry blurted out, “Hey, I know this one.”
Flitwick sang Harry’s praises and had him perform a demonstration for the class when he saw Harry cast the spell perfectly on the first try, the water flowing in a smooth continuous motion like a fountain.
Ron and Seamus were so busy chatting about Apparition, that Seamus’s charm explosively shot from his wand like a water-cannon, bounced off the ceiling, and flattened Professor Flitwick.
Apparently Ron had been telling Seamus that Harry had already traveled by Side-Along-Apparition, and by the end of classes, most Gryffindors knew, and were clamouring Harry for the details of what it felt like.
“...like being sucked through a straw,” Harry kept repeating wearily until he and Hermione finally managed to escape the Gryffindor common room around ten to eight, just in time to hurry up to Dumbledore’s office.
“Ah, yes, I thought I might be seeing Miss Granger with you,” said Dumbledore when Harry entered his office with Hermione in tow.
“Er, it’s alright, isn’t it?” asked Harry, preparing himself mentally to put his foot down if Dumbledore said no. Though if the twinkles in the headmaster’s eyes were any indication, Harry was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have to.
“Quite alright,” Dumbledore replied. “I presume that you have already brought Miss Granger up to speed on our previous excursions into Memory, Harry.”
“Er... Yeah! And...” Harry swallowed nervously, “and I was thinking about telling Dora - Tonks I mean - as well.”
Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, stroking his long silvery beard. Harry fidgeted slightly as he stood next to Hermione, who was eagerly eyeing the Pensieve sitting on Dumbledore’s desk. Finally Dumbledore nodded.
“Yes, Harry, I do believe that to be for the best. Tonks has demonstrated that she is as loyal a friend as any you could possibly hope to have. However, the need for secrecy regarding what we learn on these journeys into Memory is paramount. If there are any in your life about whom you harbour doubts, I would strongly suggest that you be very careful about what you reveal to them henceforth.”
Harry’s stomach lurched slightly, wondering if somehow Dumbledore meant Ron. Despite everything that had happened between them - or maybe because of everything - Harry felt extremely uncomfortable about keeping secrets from Ron. But if he were to be honest with himself, Harry couldn’t help feeling that Dumbledore might be right.
Besides, Ron had made it extremely clear that they were going their separate ways until he managed to get over the worst of his feelings about Harry and Hermione being together. Harry glanced at Hermione, who seemed to have picked up on Dumbledore’s meaning as well. The look in her eye settled Harry.
“I understand sir,” he told Dumbledore. “From now on, it’ll just be me, Hermione, and D... Tonks.”
“Very good. Thank you Harry! Now, if there are no further questions, perhaps we should begin. Miss Granger, I take it you are familiar with the operation of Pensieves, and what to expect?”
“Only from what Harry has told me, and from books,” said Hermione, tingling with excitement and anticipation.
“That should be quite enough to be getting on with then,” said Dumbledore, smiling warmly at Hermione’s eagerness.
“This memory...” Dumbledore held out a crystal vial containing the swirling pearly misty-liquid-like substance for Hermione to see, before unstoppering it and tipping it into the Pensieve. “...I was most fortunate to acquire before Morfin Gaunt - Tom Riddle Junior’s uncle - expired recently. Do you recall what Harry has told you thus far about Tom Riddle’s life?”
“Yes Professor,” Hermione replied quickly, trying very hard not to sound impatient. “Tom Riddle’s mother was cruelly treated by her father and brother, and she... she probably gave Tom Riddle’s father a love potion...”
Hermione heaved a deep breath, feeling very conflicted about Merope Gaunt, who was clearly a victim of horrible circumstances who had just wanted someone to love her. But there was no question in Hermione’s mind that what Merope had done to Tom Riddle Sr was as much rape, as what McLaggen had done to herself.
“Then... then when she became pregnant,” Hermione went on. “Eventually she stopped giving Tom Riddle Sr the love potion, hoping that he would still love her. But he left her, and she ended up dying of a broken-heart shortly after giving birth to Tom Riddle Jr in a muggle orphanage.
“Tom grew up in the orphanage, and he treated the other orphans horribly - stealing their things and bullying them - even murdering their pets. But when he came to Hogwarts he was on his best behaviour... Though, Harry says you still didn’t really trust Tom, even though you gave him a chance to prove himself. Harry said that Voldemort told him that you didn’t seem to like him as much as the other teachers did.”
“Excellent Miss Granger! Quite succinct!” said Dumbledore, looking very impressed. “And Harry - most perceptive of you, I must say. Indeed, I was not convinced that Tom Riddle was worthy of such trust.
“To continue then, as Riddle progressed at Hogwarts, he drew to himself a circle of so-called ‘friends’- I say so-called, because it is highly doubtful that Riddle had the capacity to feel any sense of solidarity or affection for them, though no doubt many did so for him. Many were drawn in by his dark charisma, some by his prodigious skills, some by his well-hidden to the teachers cruel streak, and some by his obvious power...
“Indeed, of this group of motley individuals, many would go on to become the first Death Eaters under his command upon their graduation. Though they were never caught, there is no question in my mind that during their seven years at Hogwarts they were responsible for a number of nasty incidents, one of which was of course the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.
“There were also a number of occasions upon his departure from Hogwarts that caused me enough concern to begin an investigation into Riddle’s history, though most were too frightened to speak with me. And what I learned was that Riddle himself was obsessed with uncovering the truth of his parentage.
“It was only recently, that I myself discovered Riddle’s connection to the Gaunts - upon Voldemort’s resurrection at Riddle Manor. One of those I tracked down following Harry’s horrific experience was the Auror Bob Ogden as he lay on his death-bed - whose memory Harry has already witnessed.
“And that led me eventually to Morfin Gaunt, who was also fading from this mortal existence, dying after decades spent in Azkaban for a crime which he apparently did not commit. This then, is Morfin Gaunt’s recollection, Miss Granger, and if you are ready would you please follow after Harry, who shall be taking the lead...”
Dumbledore gestured towards the shallow stone basin in which the silvery substance - neither gas nor liquid, but somehow both - continued to swirl.
Hermione watched nervously as Harry placed his face into undulating mist, and appeared to be sucked into the basin. Tentatively, Hermione’s nose drew closer to the mist and her tawny coils of hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face. She let out a little shriek as she tumbled through bright billowing clouds of fog, eventually landing on her feet beside Harry.
Hermione gasped, her skin crawling at the sight of the interior of a decrepit hovel dimly lit by a flickering candle, the dust of eons thickly layering the cracked and broken wooden surfaces amidst curtains of cobwebs dangling from the ceiling. And huddled in an armchair, surrounded by the debris of chipped and broken pottery caked with moulding food, was a filthy looking man whose face was hidden under a tangle of dirty matted hair and an overgrown beard.
She gave a start of fright when Dumbledore suddenly appeared beside her and Harry.
“That poor wretch of a man you see before you, Harry, Miss Granger, is Morfin Gaunt,” said the headmaster quietly.
“I... I almost didn’t recognise him,” Harry muttered.
A loud knock on the rickety door of the hovel caught Harry’s attention and made Hermione jump again. Harry drew a sharp intake of breath as the door swung open, its rusty hinges squealing. He knew that face all too well...

~o0o~
Upon their return from Morfin Gaunt’s memory with Dumbledore, Harry instinctively wrapped an arm around Hermione, who was trembling slightly.
“S...so that was him then, young Voldemort...” said Hermione.
“Indeed!” Dumbledore nodded. “And thanks to Harry’s translation of the Parseltongue spoken, you are now as informed as Harry. I know a bit more, having uncovered the particulars of three murders in a nearby manor house... the murders of Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father...
“Apparently, following the incident you just witnessed, young Tom Riddle Junior - at sixteen years of age - was already well on his way to becoming a serial mass murderer. I do not have absolute proof, but the evidence strongly suggests that young Tom Riddle stole his uncle’s wand, murdered the Riddle family, and then altered his uncle’s memory - which I was only able to recover through a judicious application of Legilimency...”
“Is that why it went dark at the end then?” asked Harry, “Because Riddle messed with Morfin’s memories?”
“Quite so, Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “Morfin awoke the next morning, and Marvolo’s ring was gone, with Morfin none the wiser as to how it had happened. In any case, subsequently, having been alerted to the murders by the Trace, Aurors eventually arrived. And finding no others at the scene, they arrested Morfin for the murders to which he freely confessed, having been compelled to do so by a bit more memory manipulation...”
“Of course!” Harry interjected with a groan, thinking of how he’d been blamed for Dobby’s Hover Charm. “Because the Trace can’t actually pinpoint who cast the spell. It’s only a sort of proximity alert to magic being performed in the vicinity of a minor, isn’t it?”
“Indeed Harry,” said Dumbledore. “I knew you would understand...”
“Wait! I don’t understand,” said Hermione, frowning as if her lack of comprehension was painful to her, “If the Trace is placed on specific individuals - as we know it is - then even if the Aurors had decided that it was Morfin who committed the murders, the Trace would have still placed Tom Junior at the scene.
“But from everything you’ve just told us, there is no indication that anyone knew Tom Riddle Junior was connected to the Gaunts, or even the Riddle family in Little Hangleton - and no indication that the Aurors knew Tom had been at the scene of the crime, for that matter. It doesn’t make any sense... How could Riddle’s Trace be triggered, without giving a clue as to his identity, or presence at the scene?”
“That is indeed a mystery, Miss Granger!” Dumbledore sighed. “I can only conclude that young Tom Riddle was skilled enough to tamper with his own Trace. Demonstrating how formidable his magical knowledge and skills were, even at that age.”
Harry swallowed uncomfortably and reddened, once again reminded of what he was up against, and how ill-prepared he felt to face it. Hermione glanced at him sorrowfully, seeing the self-doubt in his eyes once again. Apparently Dumbledore noticed as well, as he was moved to speak.
“Please do not doubt yourself, Harry! Yes, Tom has a vast wealth of knowledge, and much power, but you have abilities and powers which he will never be able to fathom. Voldemort is limited by his inability to grasp the true complexities of Magic.
“He sees only Power, not understanding that the Quality of the Emotional Content which fuels the magic, and the Quality of the Intent with which the magic is wielded, are just as important, if not more-so, than the Quantity. He is drawn to Magic which feeds on the Darkest of Emotions - on Hate, Fear, and Despair - much like Dementors are.
“Voldemort cannot produce a Patronus - no Dark wizards can - their Souls are too damaged by their focus on exploring the Darkest realms of the human experience in their selfish quest for Power for its own sake. Nor do they need a Patronus to walk among Dementors without succumbing to their effects, as they are quite compatible with them.
“Yet you, Harry - you were able to send over a hundred Dementors fleeing Hogwarts with a single Patronus. That is simply unheard of for any adult wizard - most of whom are unable to produce more than a rudimentary Patronus Shield - let alone a wizard only in his third year at Hogwarts. Those very few adults who can produce a Corporeal Patronus, can repel a dozen or a score of Dementors at best.
“If that is not evidence that you have great power - and more importantly, great purity of spirit and of heart - and the potential to defeat Voldemort, then I do not know what is...”
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Damaged Bridges