Or in other words, Fiction Friday, even though Friday is long past. Which makes me sad because it means that the work week has started over and I will not have another weekend for five whole days! Well. Four and a half, by now. Still, weekends are much my preferred time, since they bring me the ability to do things on my own schedule. How could this be achieved in the rest of the week, you ask, O readers? I think you already know. If and when I can make a living at writing, that's how. But I've said enough about that in other venues, and in this one in previous posts, and I should get on with telling you a story, since that's what I said I would do for my post today. What kind of story should I tell? Well, everybody seemed very appreciative of the Dangerverse story last Friday (which amuses me in the same moment as it arouses groans of moderate despair), so why don't I tell another of those. The DV is chewing my brain to bits lately, as I reach the milestones for which I've been planning so long. However, because I am also feeling somewhat lazy, I will simply give you a trimmed scene from Chapter 54 of Surpassing Danger, a discussion of something that astute readers of that story have already figured out. Namely, what's going on with Albus Dumbledore, and how Danger's long-ago wedding dreams might still come true... ***** "Don't worry too much about me, Pearl," said Harry. "There's lots of different ways to 'fall'. We're checking out that mountaintop where the Horcrux is hidden the next few days, aren't we? There's probably some trap spell there that's going to knock my off my broom, and somebody'll have to dive down and save me. You'll see, that's all it's going to turn out to mean in the end. Or maybe I have to pretend to die, so Voldemort thinks he'll win the war sort of automatically. And then I'll pop back up at the last second to ruin his day." He grinned broadly, splaying out his hands. "Surprise!" "I guess that would work." Meghan eyed her brother doubtfully. "Mama Letha could probably help you with it, but she wouldn't have Fawkes this time, and—" She broke off, pressing her hands to her mouth as she realized the rest of the Pride was staring at her. "Oops," she said around her fingers. "I don't think I was supposed to tell about that yet." "This time?" repeated Hermione. "When did Letha and Fawkes help somebody pretend to die—" She stopped short as the answer which had already hit Harry dawned on her. "You mean—Professor Dumbledore? But, but, why?" "For all the same reasons we already thought." The words left Harry's mouth without his conscious participation, but as he listened to them again, they made perfect sense. "Because he wasn't up to leading a war any longer, but if he'd just stepped down, everyone would still have been going to him with things, out of habit." "Of course." Ginny shook her head, her expression slightly punch-drunk. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but of course. Once he was dead, or we thought he was, everyone had to start listening to Mr. Moony, and to Dad and Percy, and to all their other leaders, because they didn't have any choice about it." "Not to mention, this will be the biggest kick in the pants ever for Voldemort." The grin sprouting on Harry's face was so wide it almost hurt, but he didn't care. "The only wizard he ever feared, who's supposed to be safely dead, suddenly turning up again alive? It'll terrify him. And terrified people make panicky, stupid mistakes." "Great." Ron flopped over backwards again. "How about we all pretend to die? Borrow some Semtex from the Red Shepherds and blow up a building where we're having a meeting? It'd make as much sense as anything has today!" He lifted his head to look across at Meghan. "Any idea what's supposed to bring him out of it? Back from the not-quite-dead?" "No, sorry." Meghan laid her hand against the hilt of her dagger. "I only know about it because I met Fawkes down at the tomb, and I accidentally looked at it with my Healing sight and saw all the magic on it. Mama Letha might know." She perked up for a second, then slumped again. "But she probably won't tell, because I wasn't supposed to tell, because I wasn't supposed to know!" "You didn't find out on purpose, and you haven't exactly told the world." Neville tugged on the top of Meghan's ear. "Just us. And it won't go any farther than that. The prophecies never do, do they?" "And speaking of prophecies, weren't we trying to figure this one out?" Ginny circled two fingers, a let's-get-back-on-track gesture. "We understand the first four lines, or we think we do. Voldemort thinks he understands them too. We're just going to have to wait and see which side is right..." |