@Stormshock the animus ElectricWing (you may wanna) @Uniatheintrovert @Rayvena
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So, you are a late bloomer and drama happens but we'll skip to the sorting ceremony when I start this. You can have 2 Actual HL characters. I choose Phineas Nigellus Black and Matilda Weasley. You must use 99% sanity around Sebastian. The real characters you wanna be are logged here!
I looked at the hand-drawn Black family tree, and both Headmaster Black and his disowned son are spelled Phineus, not Phineas. Thus, the tapestry in the film was not misspelled!
Previous Chapters:
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003804769
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003805533
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003806102
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003806803
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003808304
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003810956
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003811902
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003814653
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003816806
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003819557
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003821422
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003822967
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003823601
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@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972
Chapter Fourteen: Breaking Point
Early next morning, before the other two were awake, Harry left the tent to search the small wooded area around them for the oldest, most gnarled, and resilient—looking tree he could find. There in its shadow he buried Mad-Eye Moody’s eye and marked the spot by gouging a small cross in the bark with his wand. It was not much, but Harry felt that Mad-Eye would have much preferred this to being stuck on Dolores Umbridge’s door. Then he returned to the tent to wait for the others to wake, and discuss what they were going to do next.
Given that they were only a kilometre away from one of the Ministry workers who posed the most threat to them, and the fact that they had no access to food, all four decided it was best to move to a different location and to continue moving frequently. Theodore therefore removed the enchantments he had placed around the small clearing, while Harry, Allison, and Tracey obliterated all the marks and impressions on the ground that might show that they had camped there. Then they Disapparated to the outskirts of a small muggle market town.
Once they had pitched the tent in the shelter of a small crop of trees and surrounded it with freshly cast defensive enchantments, Harry ventured out under the Invisibility Cloak to find sustenance in exchange for some of the muggle money Tracey had given him. This, however, did not go as planned. He had barely entered the town when an unnatural chill, a descending mist, and a sudden darkening of the skies made him freeze where he stood.
‘But your Patronus shown brighter than ever yesterday?’ protested Tracey in confusion when Harry arrived back at the tent empty-handed, out of breath, and mouthing the single word, dementors.
‘I couldn’t…make one,’ he panted, clutching the stitch in his side. ‘Wouldn’t come.’
Their expressions of consternation and disappointment made Harry feel ashamed. It had been a nightmarish experience, seeing the dementors gliding out of the mist in the distance and realizing, as the paralyzing cold choked his lungs and a distant screaming filled his ears, that he was not going to be able to protect himself. It had taken all Harry’s will power to uproot himself from the spot and run, leaving the eyeless dementors to glide amongst the Muggles who might not be able to see them, but would assuredly feel the despair they cast wherever they went.
‘But we need to stock up on food,’ said Tracey, ‘what are we to do?’
‘That’s not what’s important at this moment,’ said Allison.
‘What do you think happened Harry?’ asked Theodore. ‘Did your hunger prevent you from producing a Patronus, or something else?’
‘I don’t know.’
He sat low in one of Dumbledore’s armchairs Tracey had found in the purse, feeling more humiliated by the moment. He was afraid that something had gone wrong inside him. Yesterday seemed a long time ago. Today he might have been thirteen years old again, the only one who collapsed on the Hogwarts Express.
‘Should someone else go and try and get food?’ suggested Tracey.
‘Sure, you go and fight your way through the dementors, then,’ said Harry, stung.
‘Harry,’ said Tracey a little taken aback, ‘I really would if I could, but my right arm is in a sling and I’m not an expert at spell casting with my left.’
‘That’s convenient,’ said Harry, rolling his eyes.
‘How can you say that to Tracey, Harry, she’s only trying to—‘ began Theodore.
‘I got it!’ exclaimed Allison excitedly, startling the others into silence. ‘Harry, hand over locket! Now please!’
She said the last part quite impatiently, holding her hand out towards him, when he did not react.
‘Please Harry, it’ll all be ok.’
Harry lifted the golden chain over his head. The moment it parted contact with Harry’s skin he felt free and oddly light. He had not even realized that he was clammy or that there was a heavy weight pressing on his stomach until both sensations lifted.
‘How do you now feel?’ she asked gently.
‘Loads better!’
Realizing what just happened, Theodore became quite pale.
‘Um, Harry,’ said Theodore in a tone that it was clear he was trying not to upset or offend him, ‘is there any possibility that the locket has been possessing you?’
‘What? No!’ he said defensively. ‘I remember everything we’ve done while I’ve been wearing it. I wouldn’t know what I’d done if I’d been possessed, would I? Hermione told me there were times when she couldn’t remember anything.’
‘So,’ said Tracey, looking down at the heavy gold locket, ‘should we stop wearing it, and just keep it safe in my purse or the tent?’
‘We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,’ Harry stated firmly. ‘If we lose it, if it gets stolen—‘
‘It’s settled then,’ said Allison, and she placed it around her own neck and tucked it out of sight down the front of her shirt. ‘Just like night-watch we should take it in shifts, so nobody gets corrupted or their soul possessed.’
‘Alright, well if we think we have it figured out, we should probably try and buy some food,’ said Tracey.
'Yes, but not here,' said Theodore, still looking nervous. 'We shouldn't stay here with all dementors near by.'
In the end they settled down for the night in a field on the outskirts of Kembleford, less than seven kilometers from Harry's home village. Theodore left with some muggle money and Harry's Cloak and returned from the village market with cans of soup, fruit, and vegetables, as well as a carton of milk and eggs, a bag of bread, and a block of cheddar.
'I technically just took the food and left money near the register when the cashier wasn't looking,' said Theodore in a troubled voice, as they devoured scrambled eggs with cheese on toast. 'It won't cause them worry will it? And do you think I left enough currency, I'm not used to muggle money.'
Allison rolled her eyes and said, with her cheeks bulging, 'Tee-oh, oo did fine.'
And, indeed, it was much easier to relax when they were comfortably well fed. The argument about the dementors was forgotten in the laughter that night, and Harry felt cheerful, even hopeful as he took the first of the four night watches.
This was their first encounter with the fact that a full stomach meant good spirits; an empty one, bickering and gloom. Days where they set up camp away from all of society and they had to ration their canned food showed just how much food meant to each of them. From his childhood Theodore was used to starvation and bore up reasonably well on those days with little to eat, his temper perhaps a little shorter than usual. Tracey was used to lavish meals at home or from the Hogwarts house-elves, and hunger made her cranky and more prone to tears, but she never lost her cool. Harry never found himself wanting a lot of food throughout life, and stress tended to diminish his appetite, so the constant threat of being caught by Voldemort or Death Eaters made him not notice the reduced amount of food when it occurred. Allison was another story, she worked out to build bulk, so she burned a lot more calories than the rest of them, so when she went hungry everyone in group suffered. If she didn’t get enough to eat her temper was short, she was reluctant to do tasks, and she picked fights more often. Whenever lack of food coincided with Allison’s turn to wear the Horcrux, she became downright unpleasant.
On her good days she would help teach Theodore to read Runes, or read with the other three the books Theodore brought that he believed would help them better understand Voldemort and potentially find new Horcrux locations. She also would spend time with Harry, and they would try to help each other through the dark times they were all living in. On bad days she wouldn’t leave her bunk unless asked.
As Dumbledore had told Harry that he believed Voldemort had hidden the Horcruxes in places important to him, they kept listing, in a sort of dreary litany, those locations they knew that Voldemort had lived or visited. The orphanage where he had been born and raised; Hogwarts, where he had been educated; Borgin and Burkes, where he had worked after completing school; then Albania, where he had spent his years of exile: These formed the basis of their speculations.
'Should we go to Albania, how long would it take us to thoroughly search all of a foreign country?' asked Allison sarcastically.
'I don't think there is a Horcrux there. He made and hid the first five before his exile, and then Dumbledore was fairly certain that the snake is the sixth,' said Theodore.
'And we know the snake isn't in Albania, as it normally is right next to Vol—' said Harry, though he was cut off by Tracey.
'Please don't say his name.’
'Sorry. It normally is right next to You-Know-Who.'
‘So none in Albania then,’ said Allison, disappointed at the lack of progress.
‘Yes, and I can’t see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes,’ said Harry, who made this point many times before, but said it again simply to break the nasty silence. ‘Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would’ve recognized a Horcrux straightaway. I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts.’
Tracey let out a bit of a sigh.
‘It’s more possible than Albania, but if there was a Horcrux in Hogwarts then don’t you think Dumbledore would have found it?’
Harry repeated the argument he kept bringing out in favour of this theory.
‘Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwarts’s secrets. I’m telling you, if there was one place Vol—‘
‘Harry!’
‘I’m sorry Tracey, YOU-KNOW-WHO, but it’s just a name!’ Harry shouted, started to get really annoyed with everyone. ‘If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!’
'Its just a school, Harry,' scoffed Allison.
'It isn't just a school, not to him anyway! It was his first real home, the place that meant he was special, the first place he met like-minded peers, and even after he left—'
'Are you sure you are talking about You-Know-Who and not yourself?' inquired Allison. She was twisting the chain of the Horcrux around her finger: Harry was visited by a desire to rip the locket off her neck.
'Well, Harry, you said that You-Know-Who applied for a job at Hogwarts after he left,' said Theodore.
'That’s right,' said Harry.
'And that Dumbledore believed he only returned to the castle to find an object, probably another founder’s relic, to transform into a Horcrux?' continued Tracey.
'Yeah,' said Harry.
'Its just, he never got the job,' said Theodore. 'Which means he likely didn't get the chance to retrieve something of the founder’s or return to hide it in the school!'
'Okay, then,' said Harry, defeated. 'Forget Hogwarts.'
Without any other leads, they traveled into London and, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, searched for the orphanage in which Voldemort had been raised.
Tracey stuck into a muggle library and discovered from their records that the place had been demolished many years before. They visited its site and found a tower block of offices.
'We could attempt an excavation at night?' Theodore suggested half-heartedly.
'He wouldn’t have hidden a Horcrux here,' Harry said. He had known all along: The orphanage had been the place Voldemort had been determined to escape; he would never have hidden a part of his soul there. Dumbledore had shown Harry that Voldemort sought grandeur or mystique in his hiding places; this dismal gray corner of London was as far removed as you could imagine from Hogwarts or the Ministry or a building like Gringotts, the Wizarding bank, with its golden doors and marble floors.
Even without any new ideas, they continued to move through the countryside, pitching the tent in a different place each night or two for security. Every morning they made sure that they had removed all clues to their presence, then set off to find another lonely and secluded spot, traveling by Apparition to more woods, to the shadowy crevices of cliffs, to purple moors, gorse-covered mountainsides, and once a sheltered a pebbly cove. Every eight hours or so they passed the Horcrux between them as though they were playing some perverse, slow-motion game of pass-the-parcel, where they dreaded the music stopping because the reward was eight hours of increased fear and anxiety.
Harry’s scar kept prickling. It happened most often, he noticed, when he was wearing the Horcrux. Sometimes he could not stop himself reacting to the pain.
'You alright Harry, what did you see?' asked Allison calmly, anytime she noticed him in pain. When wearing the locket he always ignored the first part of her question.
'A face,' muttered Harry, every time. 'The same face. The thief who stole from Gregorovitch.'
Allison would always look away, hurt, and maybe also disappointed. But Harry couldn't control what he saw or when. He couldn't use his visions to see if the group's friends or family were alright, he was not a television aerial; he could only see what Voldemort was thinking at the time, not tune in to whatever took his fancy, and yet her sadness made him feel like she expected that was what he should somehow do. Eventually Harry learned to suppress any sign of pain or discomfort, for the other three showed nothing but impatience at the mention of the thief. He could not entirely blame them, when they were so desperate for a lead on the Horcruxes. The only news from the wizarding world they could access was the occasional stolen Daily Prophet, or Theodore guessing the right password for the Grimmauld Place radio Tracey brought to listen to Potterwatch, but neither so far gave them any information useful to their hunt.
As the days stretched into weeks, Harry began to suspect that Allison, Tracey, and Theodore were having conversations without, and about, him. Several times they stopped talking abruptly when Harry entered the tent, and twice he came accidentally upon them, huddled a little distance away, heads together and talking fast; both times they fell silent when they realized he was approaching them and hastened to appear busy collecting wood or water.
Harry could not help wondering whether they had only agreed to come on what now felt like a pointless and rambling journey because they thought he had some secret plan that they would learn in due course. Allison was making no effort to hide her bad mood, and Harry was starting to fear that Theodore and Tracey were also disappointed by his poor leadership. In desperation he tried to think of further Horcrux locations, but the only one that continued to occur to him was Hogwarts, and as neither of the other thought this at all likely, he stopped suggesting it.
Autumn rolled over the countryside as they moved through it. They were now pitching the tent on mulches of fallen leaves. Natural mists joined those cast by the dementors: wind and rain added to their troubles. The fact that Tracey's cooking had improved or that they were now adding freshly harvested fruit and vegetables to their diet could not altogether compensate for their continuing isolation, the lack of other people’s company, or their near total ignorance of what was going on in the war against Voldemort.
'Why can't we add more hardy meat to our meals?' said Allison one night, as they sat in the tent on Caldey Island, 'and I've seen wizards and witches like Tulip conjure food out of thin air.'
She prodded moodily at the lumps of charred gray sole fish on her plate with a side of plain boiled corn. Harry glanced automatically at Allison’s neck and saw, as he had expected, the golden chain of the Horcrux glinting there. He managed to fight down the impulse to swear at his moody girlfriend, whose attitude, he knew, improve slightly when the time came to take off the locket.
'Tulip can not conjure food out of thin air,' said Theodore. 'It is impossible. Food is part of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration—’
'Meaning?' asked Allison stubbornly, trying to eat around the spine of the fish.
'It means we can't make food, especially nutritious food, out of nothing,' said Tracey, taking offense from Allison insulting her hard efforts. 'If there is some nearby you can summon it, you can sometimes turn one food into another, using Tribuomnus can increase the quantity of food you already have which I do every meal, but—'
'Well your spell clearly didn't work on this mess,' said Allison loudly.
'Hey, Harry spent hours catching the sole, and Tracey worked hard cooking for us, show some respect,' yelled Theodore, standing up.
'Respect? How can I show respect when we're living how no human being should. This is all absolutely exhausting and—'
'Then go to your bunk!' barked Tracey, Harry wasn't sure if he had ever seen her lose her temper at Allison before, Allison sat still in shock. 'Now!'
Allison swore under her breath but did as she was told, she got up and went into the adjoining room.
'Are...are you ok, Tracey,' asked Theodore carefully, her face had become bright red.
'No, I'm getting really sick of her acting like she's the only one suffering. I'm miserable, and I'm guessing you all are too.'
'Yeah, I guess so,' said Theodore. He looked lost in thought for a few moments, then appeared to have an idea and brought the little radio onto the table. 'How about I see if Potterwatch is on, it'll be nice just to hear our loved-one's voices.'
He started fiddling with the dials and tapping his wand on the radio, while Harry and Allison began cleaning up supper.
'Harry, you should really go talk to Allison,' said Tracey as quietly as she could.
'No, I don't think she's in the mood for talking,' he said grumpily.
'Maybe not now while she has the Horcrux, but a time when neither of you are wearing it.'
'I don't know, why me, she listens to you more.'
'Because its not me she wants to talk to, she wants to discuss something with you.'
'I highly doubt that,' Harry scowled. 'She barely speaks to me at all.'
'She wants you to go to her, Harry. Its a girl thing. She wants you to go to her, tell her you know something is wrong, and that you will listen to her. She'll open up then. If you want you're relationship with her to last you two need to tal—'
'Hey guys? Shut up!' said Theodore suddenly as he stood up in excitement. 'I found it.'
'and now for the names of deceased or missing witches and wizards before we move onto some more hopeful news. These are confirmed. Thankfully the list is short today,' said the voice of Remus, which did lighten Harry's heart slightly. 'For deaths we are saddened to announce the demise of famous Seer Cassandra Vablatsky, Thorsten and Elena Pfeffer and their children, as well as the death of Julie Parkes whose family wishes for solitude as they mourn their daughter. For disappeared individuals there is Mykew Gregorovitch—'
'They haven't found the body yet, then,' whispered Harry.
'—Scarlet and Kitty Sharp, and finally Bella, Jake, Charlie and Madge Farley.'
'Oh no, that's nearly Gemma's entire family, I really hope they're just in hiding,' said Tracey, supressing a sob. Harry also felt bad for their former Prefect.
'Now, onto some good news,' said the hopeful voice of Colin Creevey. 'The Ministry wants Muggle-borns to live in fear, to believe that if they get caught they are guaranteed to end up in Azkaban, but I'm happy to say that is a lie. Dirk Cresswell was arrested but escaped from his Death Eater guard and is now on the run, but he is alive.'
'Yes Rangefinder,' said Lee Jordan, 'and he's not the only one. Multiple rumours from different sources say that Ted Tonks, my old pal Dean Thomas, as well as the Goblins Griphook and Gornuk are on the run but currently safe.'
'Speaking of Goblins, there are some interesting stories floating around about Gringotts as well as Hogwarts, most of which we've confirmed to be true,' said Kingsley. 'At some point in the early school year, the murderous Headmaster Snape supposedly found within Hogwarts the missing Sword of Gryffindor and boasted about it to the Daily Prophet quite publicly. Well last week four brave students attempted to steal the sword to return it to Gryffindor House, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, and Ella Wilkins. They were caught, but thankfully were given the safest punishment currently offered at Hogwarts. Where the stories become truly interesting is because of the attempted robbery Snape ordered for the sword to be moved to a vault in Gringotts, where repeated rumours have been leaking that the sword is a fake, and the Ministries attempt to squash these rumours proves them to be truth.'
'So, Snape had been bragging about his ownership of a fake sword?' ask Lee.
'Yes River. Just like before his appointment to Headmaster, the sword of Gryffindor is missing,' concluded Kingsley.
'Well, now on to the most anticipated part of our broadcast, the weather,' said Remus in a tone that implied what he was about to say had nothing to do with meteorology. 'Large amounts of fog have been spotted in Appleby, Cleckheaton, Cork, Ottery St Catchpole, and Mould-on-the-Wold. High chance of clouds in Wiltshire, so beware. Finally there has not been any lightning sightings since September second in London, but small rumoured lightning strikes have been reported for over a month now. That's all for the weather tonight.'
So fog clearly meant dementors, and they seemed to be guarding places Harry had connections to. Lightning seemed to refer to Harry himself, it would appear security during the broadcasts had to be increased as they had called him by name in the original broadcast and a few since than. Harry did not know for sure what clouds meant, but he took note to avoid Wiltshire.
'That'll be all for tonight, stay safe everyone. Next broadcast's password will be Vance,' said Lee Jordan, and then the radio went to static.
Harry, Tracey, and Theodore remained frozen, none had spoken since Remus had been listing those who were missing. After a moment however Harry, found himself needing to say, 'Our friends—the sword—'
‘I heard!’ said Tracey.
She lunged for the small emerald purse, this time sinking her arm in it right up to the armpit.
‘I…think…I…found…it…’ she said between gritted teeth, and she pulled at something that was evidently in the depths of the purse. Slowly the edge of an ornate picture frame came into sight. Harry and Theodore hurried to help her. As they lifted the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus free of Tracey’s purse, she kept her wand pointing at it, ready to cast a spell at any moment.
'We need to know what happened to our friends, and maybe why they tried to steal the sword,' she panted, as they propped the painting against the side of the tent, 'and Headmaster Phineas Nigellus might have seen what happened!'
'Unless he was asleep,' said Harry, but he still held his breath as Tracey knelt down in the front of the empty canvas, her wand directed at its center, cleared her throat, then said:
'Um—Excuse me? Headmaster Phineas Nigellus?'
Nothing happened.
'Professor Black?' Theodore tried.
'Sir, we really need your help, er, please,' tried Tracey one last time.
'"Please" always helps,' said a cold, snide voice, and Phineas Nigellus Black slid into his portrait. At once, Tracey cried:
'Obscura!'
A black blindfold appeared over Phineas Nigellus’s clever, dark eyes, causing him to bump into the frame and shriek with pain.
'What—how dare—what are you—?'
'I apologize, Professor Black,' said Tracey, 'it had to be done for our safety!'
'Remove this foul addition at once! Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?'
'Never mind where we are,' said Harry, and Phineas Nigellus froze, abandoning his attempts to peel off the painted blindfold.
'Can that possibly be the voice of the elusive Mr Potter?'
'Maybe,' said Harry, knowing that this would keep Phineas Nigellus’s interest. 'We’ve got a couple of questions to ask you—about the sword of Gryffindor.'
'Ah,' said Phineas Nigellus, now turning his head this way and that in an effort to catch sight of Harry, 'yes. That idiot seventh-year acted most unwisely there—'
'Neville is not an idiot,' said Theodore roughly. Phineas Nigellus raised supercilious eyebrows.
'Who else is here?' he asked, turning his head from side to side. 'Your tone displeases me! The boy and his friends were foolhardy in the extreme. Thieving from the headmaster.'
'They weren’t thieving,' said Harry. 'That sword isn’t Snape’s.'
'It belongs to Professor Snape’s school,' said Phineas Nigellus. 'Exactly what claim did the Longbottom boy have upon it other than his house? He deserved his punishment, as did the misguided Bones, the Lovegood oddity, and the traitor to my house Wilkins!'
'Susan isn't misguided, Luna is not an oddity, and Ella is a better Slytherin than you ever were!' said Theodore, who took fellow Slytherins being closed-minded very seriously.
'Where am I?' repeated Phineas Nigellus, starting to wrestle with the blindfold again. 'Where have you brought me? Why have you removed me from the house of my forebears?'
'Never mind that! How did Snape punish Neville, Ella, Luna, and Susan?' asked Harry urgently.
'Professor Snape sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid.'
'Hagrid is no oaf!' said Tracey shrilly.
'And Snape might’ve thought that was a punishment,' said Harry, 'but Neville, Ella, Luna, and Susan probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest...they’ve faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!'
He felt relieved, while Potterwatch had said their punishment had been minor, Harry still believed it would have been worse: he had been imagining horrors, the Cruciatus Curse at the very least.
'The information we're truly after, Professor Black, is perhaps whether you know why anyone would want to have sword, other than it being made by Godric Gryffindor?' asked Theodore
Phineas Nigellus paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.
'Simple boy' he said. 'Godric Gryffindor did not create the sword, he hired Goblins to forge it. That is why it has Goblin properties, such as repelling mundane dirt or imbibing only that which strengthens it.'
'Don’t call Theodore simple,' said Harry.
'I call blood-traitors whatever I please,' said Phineas Nigellus. 'Perhaps it is time for me to return to the headmaster’s office?'
Still blindfolded, eh began groping the side of his frame, trying to feel a way out of his picture and back into the one at Hogwarts. Harry had a sudden inspiration.
'Dumbledore! Can’t you bring us Dumbledore?'
'I beg you pardon?' asked Phineas Nigellus.
'Professor Dumbledore’s portrait—couldn’t you bring him along, here, into yours?'
'Harry...' said Tracey, her voice full of sympathy.
Phineas Nigellus turned his face in the direction of Harry’s voice.
'Evidently it is not only your friends who are ignorant, Potter. The portraits of Hogwarts may commune with each other, but they cannot ravel outside the castle except to visit a painting of themselves hanging elsewhere. Dumbledore cannot come here with me, and after the treatment I have received at your hands, I can assure you that I shall not be making a return visit!'
Slightly crestfallen, Harry watched Phineas redouble his attempts to leave his frame.
'Professor Black,' said Tracey, 'please, sir, just one more thing. Could you tell us the last time you saw the sword before Snape found it?'
Phineas snorted impatiently.
'I believe the last time I saw the sword of Gryffindor leave its case was when Professor Dumbledore sliced an old fang with it and than later used it to break open a ring.'
Theodore whipped around to look at Harry. Neither of them dared say more in front of Phineas Nigellus, who had at last managed to locate the exit.
'Well, good night to you,' he said a little waspishly, and he began to move out of sight again. Only the edge of his hat brim remained in view when Harry gave a sudden shout.
'Wait! Have you told Snape you saw this?'
Phineas Nigellus stuck his blindfolded head back into the picture.
'Professor Snape has more important things on his mind than the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Good-bye, Potter!'
And with that, he vanished completely, leaving behind him nothing but his murky backdrop.
'Harry!' Tracey cried.
'I know!' Harry shouted. Unable to contain himself, he punched the air: it was more than he had dared to hope for. He strode up and down the tent, feeling that he could have run a mile: he did not even feel hungry anymore. Theodore was squashing Phineas Nigellus’ portrait back into Tracey's purse, when he had fastened the clasp he tossed the purse aside and joined Tracey with his own wide smile.
'The sword destroyed the ring, it destroyed a Horcrux, Harry!' said Tracey excitedly.
'I know, this is good news, it means its possible,' said Harry with a smile, but then his smile dropped slightly. 'But we can't use the sword, it'll likely vanish in the hands of a Slytherin.'
Theodore's smile did not vanish however, 'We don't need the sword, we need what was inside it, Dumbledore embedded it with the basilisk venom from a fang. Don't you understand what this means?'
'Er no?' admitted Harry. He knew basilisk venom could kill a Horcrux, deep down he knew of something else that was dark that could kill it to, but he had thought he had burned any basilisk venom that remained in all of Europe.
'For most snakes after they die within two weeks their venom dries up, but it would appear despite you burning Slytherin's basilisk until only bones remained and it sitting in the Chamber of Secret's for nearly half a decade that there is still venom in its fangs,' said Theodore.
'Alright, but how do we get to the Chamber of Secrets? Hogwarts is probably the most dangerous place for us right now,' said Harry, although he had to admit hope was settling back in.
'Maybe we wait until Christmas, if they still let kids go home for Holiday, than the castle will have less potential people to catch us,' said Tracey. 'We could also use the Honeydukes tunnel to get in. What do you think Allison? Alli?'
Harry looked into the room with the bunk beds. For one bewildered moment he thought that Allison had left the tent, then realized that she was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk of her and Tracey's bed, looking stony.
'Oh, you finally remembered I exist?' she said.
'What?' said Harry, confused.
Allison snorted as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
'Continue discussing important things without me though. I'd hate to interrupt.'
Perplexed, Harry looked to Tracey and Theodore for help, but Theodore stayed still and Tracey simply shook her head, apparently as nonplussed as Harry was.
'What’s the problem?' asked Harry.
'Problem? What problem?' said Allison, still refusing to look at Harry. 'I told you I was fine.'
There were several plunks on the canvas over their heads. It had started to rain.
'Well that's a lie, as you clearly have a problem, "Jaanu"!'
That last sentence made Allison spring to her feet, her eyes burning with fury. She looked mean, unlike himself, if anything she was reminded Harry of her father.
'No, "Beau", you are the one with the problem! Acting like everything is solved when in reality we now have yet another thing we have to find, yet another thing you don't know.'
'Don’t know?' repeated Harry. 'I don’t know?'
Plunk, plunk, plunk. The rain was falling harder and heavier; it pattered on the leaf-strewn bank all around them and into the river chattering through the dark. Dread doused Harry’s jubilation. Allison was saying exactly some of the things Harry had suspected and feared her to be thinking.
'This has been torture, you know that?' said Allison, 'isolation, starving, and freezing to death. And all for what, what have we actually achieved?'
'Alli...' Tracey said, but in such a quiet voice that Allison could pretend not to have heard it over the loud tattoo the rain was now beating on the tent.
'I thought you knew what you’d signed up for,' said Harry. 'What happened to your promise that you'd be by your side every step of the way, that you'd help me hunt down Snape for revenge, that you'd help find the Horcruxes, and you'd help me defeat Voldemort?'
'Well maybe I was wrong.'
'So what part of it isn’t living up to expectations?' asked Harry. Anger was coming to his defense now. 'Did you think we’d be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you’d be back in Winterton by Christmas?'
'What I thought was that you trusted me! What we thought was that you actually knew what you were doing!' shouted Allison, her words pierced Harry like scalding knives. 'What we thought was that you knew something from Dumbledore that would help us, that after all this time you'd have a plan!'
'Allison!' said Theodore, unlike Tracey, his voice was clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof, but like Tracey, she ignored him.
'Well, sorry to let you down,' said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. 'I’ve been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore told me. I even begged you not to come, but you insisted. By the way, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve found on Horcrux—'
'But we are just as near to destroying it as we are to finding the others—all we have been doing is wasting our own time!'
'Alli, take it off, the locket, please!' begged Tracey, her voice unusually high. 'You've been wearing it since morning, you aren't yourself, you'd never say any of this if you weren't wearing it.'
'Yeah, she would,' said Harry, who did not want excuses made for his argumentative girlfriend. 'D’you think I haven’t noticed the three of you whispering behind my back? D’you think I didn’t guess you were thinking this stuff?'
'Harry, that's not—' began Theodore.
'Don’t you dare lie, Theo!' Allison snarled at him. 'You both said it, said it too, that you were disappointed with the lack of progress, you both said told me you wished he had more information—'
'We didn't say that Harry—not like that,' Tracey cried.
The rain was pounding the tent, tears were pouring down Tracey’s face, and the excitement of a few minutes before had vanished as if it had never been, a short-lived firework that had flared and died, leaving everything dark, wet, and cold. There was a dead snake deep under a far away castle, and they were four teenagers in a tent whose only achievement was not itself, yet, dead.
'Say the actual truth, Harry, the real reason you are so upset,' said Allison, her voice altering from pure anger to now also include great sadness.
'And what truth is that?' said Harry, now simply having no idea what she was talking about.
'That you don't trust me anymore!' her voice broke a little.
'What, no, that's not—'
'It is true, I know it is! You repeatedly told others I that I wasn't my father, but ever since you saw the Prophet Remus brought you have looked at me differently than you used to, and you've been lying to me when you didn't need to. It's only gotten worse since you took the form of my father and saw first hand the true monster that he is. You look at me as though I'm also a monster, that I've betrayed you, but worst of all Harry, you look at me as though you don't love me anymore!'
She started to have tears well up, but her eyes were still filled with fury.
'Well maybe I don't!' shouted Harry, Tracey gasped, Allison stepped back as though she had been slapped. Harry regretted it almost the moment he said it, but his anger prevented him from backing down. 'If that is what you believe I think, why are you still here?'
'If you can't trust me after all these years, than maybe I should!'
Allison made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner’s pocket, Theodore and Tracey had raised their own wands. 'Expelliarmus!' they cried, and an invisible ripped both their wands from their hands. Silence broke out and Harry and Allison glared at each other as though they were seeing the other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward All: Something had broken between them.
'Leave the Horcrux,' Harry said.
Allison wrenched the chain from over her head and cast the locket onto the floor. She turned to Tracey as she picked up the Horcrux and hung it around her neck next to her own tiny emerald locket.
'Why'd you take that?'
'What do you mean?'
'Are you staying here?'
'Well...' She looked anguished. 'Yes—yes I’m going to stay, Allison, I made a vow to Harry that I'd go on his journey, that I'd help him find and destroy the Horcruxes—”
Allison looked even more hurt, it was with tears streaming down her face that she turned to Theodore.
'And you?'
'If Vol-You-Know-Who isn't defeated than none of us, including our friends and family, will never be safe. I'm staying.'
'Its alright,' she said, almost mad sounding, 'you're both choosing him over me.'
'What, no!' Theodore shouted.
'Allison, that isn't true and—Alli, come back!' Tracey cried, as Allison suddenly turned around, grabbed her wand, and ran out of the tent. Tracey ran after her.
Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to Tracey sobbing and calling Allison’s name amongst the trees. At the last second his guilt over took him and he ran towards the tent entrance, as he pulled it aside he just barely managed to see a figure in the distance turn on the spot and than disappear.
In shock Harry stood still, the rain soaking him to the bone. After a few minutes Allison returned, her large afro pressed down from the weight of the rain water.
'Sh-she is gone!'
Tracey re-entered the tent and threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry. Harry continued to just stand there in the rain, he felt dazed. After another minute Theodore came out and pulled him into the tent. Still soaking wet, Harry climbed into his bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain.
(I'm sorry Pervaza)
Of course a lot of the pure-bloods are related, but in this case Ron is a direct descendant of Phineas Nigellus Black. Arthur Weasley's mother was Cedrella Black, who is the granddaughter of Phineas, making Ron a great-great-grandson of Phinead Nigellus Black.
In DH, Ron mentions he will teach hermione his family tree, which could mean he knows all the members. So i was wondering if he and Phineas knew about each other when the trio spoke to Phineas Black's portrait in the tent during the horcrux hunt. Phineas didn't seem to think much of Ron.
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@Bellatrisblack @CatsAndRoblox @Rose.gold.kiisses @MeowTasticCat @Jellybean Jade @Missy Clara Oswald @Teddy.J.B @Pervaza972 @BellatrixLestrangeLover
(This chapter starts similarly as canon, but there quite a few divergence through out.)
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Lost Prophecy
Harry’s feet hit solid ground again; his knees buckled a little and the golden wizard’s head fell with a resounding clunk to the floor. He looked around and saw that he had arrived in Dumbledore’s office.
Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the headmaster’s absence. The delicate silver instruments stood again upon the spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenely. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of their pictures. Harry looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: Dawn was approaching.
The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, was unbearable to him. If his surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside him, the pictures would have been screaming in pain. He walked around the quiet, beautiful office, breathing quickly, trying not to think. But he had to think...There was no escape...
It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort’s trick, if he had not been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if he had only opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as his friends had said, banking on Harry’s love of playing the hero...It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it...There was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished. He did not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, he could not stand it—
A picture behind him gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, 'Ah...Harry Potter...'
Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he watched Harry with shrewd, narrow eyes.
'And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?' said Phineas. 'This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don’t tell me...' He gave another shuddering yawn. 'Another message for my worth-less great-great-grandson?'
Harry could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but Harry could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable. A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made Harry stride across the room and seize the doorknob.
It would not turn. He was shut in.
'I hope this means,' said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind Dumbledore’s desk, 'that Dumbledore will soon be back with us?'
Harry turned. The wizard was eyeing him with great interest. Harry nodded. He tugged again on the doorknob behind his back, but it remained immovable.
'Oh good,' said the wizard. 'It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed.'
He settled himself on the thronelike chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon Harry.
'Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know,' he said comfortably. 'Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem.'
The guilt filling the whole of Harry’s chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite now writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being Harry anymore...He had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody—anybody—else...
The empty fireplace burst into emerald-green flame, making Harry leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore’s tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake. Many of them gave cries of welcome.
'Thank you,' said Dumbledore softly.
He did not look at Harry at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew from his midnight-blue handbag, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
'Well, Harry,' said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, 'you will be pleased to hear that none of your siblings and fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night’s events. Nor has Remus or your cousin, and they know you are here safe.'
Harry tried to say 'Good,' but no sound came out. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the amount of damage he had caused by his actions tonight, and although Dumbledore was for once looking at him directly, and though his expression was kindly rather than accusatory, Harry could not bear to meet his eyes.
'Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up now,' said Dumbledore. 'Alastor Moody may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo’s, but it seems that he will make a full recovery.'
Harry contented himself with nodding at the carpet, which was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler.
'I might have taken you away to soon, your friends and family seemed desperate to make sure you were alright,' said Dumbledore, although Harry couldn't tell if he genuinely thought it was a mistake to take Harry when he did. 'Remus wanted me to tell you he loves you very much.'
He was sure that all the portraits around the room were listening eagerly to every word Dumbledore spoke, wondering where Dumbledore and Harry had been and why there had been injuries.
'I know how you are feeling, Harry,' said Dumbledore very quietly.
'No, you don’t,' said Harry, and his voice was suddenly loud and strong. White-hot anger leapt inside him. Dumbledore knew nothing about his feelings.
'You see, Dumbledore?' said Phineas Nigellus slyly. 'Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own—'
'That’s enough, Phineas,' said Dumbledore.
Harry turned his back on Dumbledore and stared determinedly out of the opposite window. He could see the Quidditch stadium in the distance. Sirius had appeared there once, disguised as the shaggy black dog, so he could watch Harry play...He had probably come to see whether Harry was as good as he and James had been...Harry had never asked him...
'There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,' said Dumbledore’s voice. 'On the contrary...the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.'
Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words.
'My greatest strength, is it?' said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. ‘You haven’t got a clue…You don’t know…’
‘What don’t I know?’ asked Dumbledore calmly.
It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage.
‘I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?’
‘Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human—‘
‘THEN—I—DON’T—WANT—TO—BE—HUMAN!’ Harry roared, and he seized one of the delicate silver instruments from the spindle-legged table beside him and flung it across the room. It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall.
Several of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of Armando Dippet said, ‘Really!’
‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE—‘
He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions.
‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’
‘I—DON’T!’ Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside Harry.
‘Oh yes, you do,’ said Dumbledore, still more calmly. ‘You have now lost your birth mother and father, your adoptive grandfather, you watched your friend Cedric Diggory die, and now one of the two people you’ve called your father for the last fourteen years has died. Of course you care.’
‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!’ Harry roared. ‘YOU—STANDING THERE—YOU—‘
But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help. He wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seized the doorknob again, and wrenched at it.
But the door would not open.
Harry turned back to Dumbledore.
‘Let me out,’ he said. He was shaking from head to foot.
‘No,’ said Dumbledore simply.
For a few seconds they stared at each other.
‘Let me out,’ Harry said again.
‘No,’ Dumbledore repeated.
‘If you don’t—if you keep me in here—if you don’t let me—‘
‘By all means continue destroying my possessions,’ said Dumbledore serenely. ‘I daresay I have too many.’
He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry.
'Let me out,' Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s.
‘Not until I have had my say,’ said Dumbledore.
‘Do you—do you think I want to—do you think I give a—I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!’ Harry roared. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!’
‘You will,’ said Dumbledore sadly. ‘Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.’
‘What are you talking—?’
‘It is my fault that Sirius died,’ said Dumbledore clearly. ‘Or I should say almost entirely my fault—I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.’
Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but he was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing.
'Please sit down,' said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.
Harry hesitated, then walked slowly across the room now littered with silver cogs and fragments of wood and took the seat facing Dumbledore’s desk.
‘Am I to understand,’ said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry’s left, ‘that my great-great-grandson—the last of my descendants to hold the Black name—is dead?’
‘Yes, Phineas,’ said Dumbledore.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Phineas brusquely.
Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house…
'Harry, I owe you an explanation,' said Dumbledore. 'An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young...and I seem to have forgotten lately...'
The sun was rising properly now. There was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colorless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eye-brows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his face.
'I guessed, fourteen years ago,' said Dumbledore, 'when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.'
'You’ve told me this before, Professor,' said Harry bluntly. He did not care about being rude. He did not care about anything very much anymore.
'Yes,' said Dumbledore apologetically. 'Yes, but you see—it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.'
'I know,' said Harry wearily.
'And this ability of yours—to detect Voldemort’s presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is feeling when his emotions are heightened—has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers.'
Harry did not bother to nod. He knew all of this already.
'More recently,' said Dumbledore, 'I became concerned that Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr Weasley.'
'Yeah, Snape told me,' Harry muttered.
'Professor Snape, Harry,' Dumbledore corrected him quietly. 'But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?'
Harry looked up. He could see now that Dumbledore looked sad and tired.
'Yeah,' Harry mumbled. 'Yeah, I have wondered.'
'You see,' continued Dumbledore heavily 'I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our interactions were—or had ever been—a little closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way. On those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes...I was trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you. An old man’s mistake...'
Harry remembered the feeling that a dormant snake had risen in him, ready to strike, on those occasions when he and Dumbledore made eye contact.
'Voldemort’s aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him.'
He sighed deeply. Harry was letting the words wash over him. He would have been so interested to know all this a few months ago, and now it was meaningless compared to the gaping chasm inside him that was the loss of Sirius, none of it mattered...
'Sirius told me that you felt Voldemort awake inside you the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley’s attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct: Voldemort from that point had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort’s assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.'
He paused. Harry watched the sunlight, which was sliding slowly across the polished surface of Dumbledore’s desk, illuminate a silver ink pot and a handsome scarlet quill. Harry could tell that the portraits all around them were awake and listening raptly to Dumbledore’s explanation. He could hear the occasional rustle of robes, the slight clearing of a throat. Phineas Nigellus had still not returned...
'Professor Snape discovered,' Dumbledore resumed, 'that you had been dreaming about the door to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body, and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant. And then you saw Rookwood, who worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest, telling Voldemort what we had known all along—that the prophecies held in the Ministry of Magic are heavily protected. Only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness. In this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic and risk revealing himself at last—or else you would have to take it for him. It became a matter of even greater urgency that you should master Occlumency.'
'But I didn’t,' muttered Harry. He said it aloud to try and ease the dead weight of guilt inside him; a confession must surely relieve some of the terrible pressure squeezing his heart. 'I didn’t practice, I didn’t bother, I could’ve stopped myself having those dreams, Theodore and I had a row about me continuing to practice but I ignored him, if I had Voldemort would never have been able to show me where to go, and—Sirius wouldn’t—Sirius wouldn’t—'
Something was erupting inside Harry’s head: a need to justify himself, to explain—
'I tried to check he’d really taken Sirius, I went to Umbridge’s office, I spoke to Kreacher in the fire, and he said he hadn't seen Sirius, and that if he went to the Department of Mysteries Sirius would never return!'
'Kreacher lied,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'You are not his master, he could stretch the truth without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic.'
'He—he sent me on purpose?'
'Oh yes. Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months.'
'How?' said Harry blankly. 'He hasn’t been out of Grimmauld Place for years.'
'Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas,' said Dumbledore, 'when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to "Out." He took Sirius at his word and interpreted this as an order to leave the house. He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left...Black’s cousin Narcissa, as you know she is Bellatrix Lestrange's sister and wife of Lucius Malfoy.'
'How do you know all this?' Harry said. His heart was beating very fast. He felt sick. He remembered worrying about Kreacher’s odd absence over Christmas, remembered him turning up again in the attic...
'Kreacher told me last night,' said Dumbledore. 'You see, when you gave Professor Snape that cryptic warning, he realized that you had had a vision of Sirius trapped in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. He, like you, attempted to contact Sirius at once. I should explain that members of the Order of the Phoenix have more reliable methods of communicating than the fire in Dolores Umbridge’s office. Professor Snape found that Sirius was alive and safe in Grimmauld Place. When, however, you did not return from your trip into the forest with Dolores Umbridge, Professor Snape grew worried that you still believed Sirius to be a captive of Lord Voldemort’s. He alerted certain Order members at once.'
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and then said, 'After Snape's first message Remus had gotten worried and summoned Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt just in case something happened, they were all at headquarters when Snape made contact the second time. All agreed to go to your aid at once. Professor Snape requested that Sirius remain behind, as he needed somebody to remain at headquarters to tell me what had happened, for I was due there at any moment. In the meantime he, Professor Snape, intended to search the forest for you. But Sirius did not wish to remain behind while the others went to search for you. He delegated to Kreacher the task of telling me what had happened. And so it was that when I arrived in Grimmauld Place shortly after they had all left for the Ministry, it was the elf who told me—laughing fit to burst—where Sirius had gone.'
'He was laughing?' said Harry in a hollow voice.
'Oh yes,' said Dumbledore. 'You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not Secret-Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts or tell them any of the Order’s confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it.'
'Like what?' said Harry.
'Like the fact that who Sirius cared most about in the world was his husband and children,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'Or that Sirius had a very special connection to you because of your resemblance in both looks and actions to James. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, that you knew where he was—but Kreacher’s information made him realize that the one of the only people in the world whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was either Sirius Black, or Remus Lupin. Kreature choose Sirius in hopes to finally be free of him.'
Harry’s lips were cold and numb.
'So...when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night...'
'The Malfoys—undoubtedly on Voldemort’s instructions—had told him he must find a way of keeping Sirius out of the way once you had seen the vision of Sirius being tortured. Then, if you decided to check whether Sirius was at home or not, Kreacher would be able to pretend he was not. It appears that Sirius and Remus had been up stairs and Kreacher had used his elf magic to put a Silencing Charm, Muffliato Charm, Quietening Charm, or a combination of them around the kitchen so that no one outside of it could your conversation with him.'
There seemed to be very little air in Harry’s lungs, his breathing was quick and shallow.
'And Kreacher told you all this...and laughed?' he croaked.
'He did not wish to tell me,' said Dumbledore. 'But I am a sufficiently accomplished Legilimens myself to know when I am being lied to and I—persuaded him—to tell me the full story, before I left for the Department of Mysteries.'
'And,' whispered Harry, his hands curled in cold fists on his knees, 'Canini and Hermione were telling us to be nice to him—'
'They were quite right, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think that Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a humans—'
‘Don’t you blame—don’t you—talk—about Sirius like—‘ Harry’s breath was constricted, he could not get the words out properly. But the rage that had subsided so briefly had flared in him again; he would not let Dumbledore criticize Sirius. ‘Kreacher’s a lying—foul—he deserved—‘
‘Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby’s. He was forced to do Sirius’s bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier—‘
‘DON’T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!’ Harry yelled.
He was on his feet again, furious, ready to fly at Dumbledore, who had plainly not understood Sirius at all, how brave he was, how much he had suffered…’
30 Votes in Poll
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003622070
Chapter 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003623371
Chapter 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003624429
Chapter 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003627163
Chapter 5: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003627566
Chapter 6: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003628099
Chapter 7: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003629240
Chapter 8: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003629849
Chapter 9: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003633592
Chapter 10: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003636880
Chapter 11: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003637775
Chapter 12: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003637976
Chapter 13: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003644162
Chapter 14: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003647807
Chapter 15: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003659216
Chapter 16: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003662863
Chapter 17: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003666116
Chapter 18: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003669377
Chapter 19: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003676719
Chapter 20: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003693936
Chapter 21: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003700067
Chapter 22: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003700147
Chapter 23: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003700449
Tags:
@Bellatrisblack @CatsAndRoblox @Rose.gold.kiisses @MeowTasticCat
Chapter Twenty-Four: Christmas on the Closed Ward
Was this why Dumbledore would no longer meet Harry’s eyes? Did he expect to see Voldemort staring out of them, afraid, perhaps, that their vivid green might turn suddenly to scarlet, with catlike slits for pupils? Harry remembered how the snakelike face of Voldemort had once forced itself out of the back of Professor Quirrell’s head, and he ran his hand over the back of his own, wondering what it would feel like if Voldemort burst out of his skull...
He felt dirty, contaminated, as though he were carrying some deadly germ, unworthy to sit on the underground train back from the hospital with innocent, clean people whose minds and bodies were free of the taint of Voldemort...He had not merely seen the snake, he had been the snake, he knew it now...
And then a truly terrible thought occurred to him, a memory bobbing to the surface of his mind, one that made his insides writhe and squirm like serpents...
‘What’s he after apart from followers?’
‘Stuff he can only get by stealth...like a weapon. Something he didn’t have last time.’
I’m the weapon, Harry thought, and it was as though poison were pumping through his veins, chilling him, bringing him out in a sweat as he swayed with the train through the dark tunnel. I’m the one Voldemort’s trying to use, that’s why they’ve got guards around me everywhere I go, it’s not for my protection, it’s for other people’s, only it’s not working, they can’t have someone on me all the time at Hogwarts...I did attack Mr Weasley last night, it was me, Voldemort made me do it and he could be inside me, listening to my thoughts right now...
‘Are you all right, Harry, dear?’ whispered Mrs Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through its dark tunnel. ‘You don’t look very well. Are you feeling sick?’
They were all watching him. He shook his head violently and stared up at an advertisement for home insurance.
‘Harry, you look quite pale,’ said Nymphadora quietly to him, ‘and Theodore mentioned to me how you threw up yesterday, are you sure the train isn’t making you nauseous?’
When they returned to Grimmauld place it was Remus’ turn to voice his concern, ‘You look exhausted Harry, supper isn’t for a few hours, maybe you should go upstairs and try to take a nap?’
He nodded; here was a ready-made excuse not to talk to any of the others, which was precisely what he wanted, so he proceeded straight past the troll’s leg umbrella stand and up the stairs and hurried into his, Theodore, and Ron’s bedroom.
Here he began to pace up and down, past the two beds and cot, and Phineas Nigellus’s empty portrait, his brain teeming and seething with questions and ever more dreadful ideas...
How had he become a snake? Perhaps he was an Animagus...No, he couldn’t be, he would know...perhaps Voldemort was an Animagus...Yes, thought Harry, that would fit, he would turn into a snake of course...and when he’s possessing me, then we both transform...That still doesn’t explain how come I got to London and back to my bed in the space of about five minutes, though...But then Voldemort’s about the most powerful wizard in the world, apart from Dumbledore, it’s probably no problem at all to him to transport people like that...
And then, with a terrible stab of panic he thought, but this is insane—if Voldemort’s possessing me, I’m giving him a clear view into the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix right now! He’ll know who’s in the Order and where my family is...and I’ve heard loads of stuff I shouldn’t have, everything Sirius told me the first night I was here...
There was only one thing for it: He would have to leave Grimmauld Place straightaway. He would spend Christmas at Hogwarts without the others, which would keep them safe over the holidays at least...But no, that wouldn’t do, there were still plenty of people at Hogwarts to maim and injure, what if it was Collin, or Neville next time? He stopped his pacing and stood staring at Phineas Nigellus’s empty frame. A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He had no alternative: He was going to have to return to Privet Drive, cut himself off from other wizards entirely...
Well, if he had to do it, he thought, there was no point hanging around. Trying with all his might not to think how the Dursleys were going to react when they found him on their doorstep six months earlier than they had expected, he strode over to his trunk, slammed the lid shut and locked it, then glanced around automatically for Hedwig before remembering that she was still at Hogwarts—well, her cage would be one less thing to carry—he seized one end of his trunk and had dragged it halfway toward the door when a sneaky voice said, ‘Running away, are we?’
He looked around. Phineas Nigellus had appeared upon the canvas of his portrait and was leaning against the frame, watching Harry with an amused expression on his face.
‘Not running away, no,’ said Harry shortly, dragging his trunk a few more feet across the room.
‘I wondered,’ said Phineas Nigellus, stroking his pointed beard, ‘how a son of four Gryffindors ended up in my House, but now I understand. Like Gryffindors, we Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid. For instance, given the choice, we will always choose to save our own necks.’
‘It’s not my own neck I’m saving, and it was Professors like you that twisted what it meant to be a Slytherin,’ said Harry tersely, tugging the trunk over a patch of particularly uneven, moth-eaten carpet right in front of the door.
‘Oh I see,’ said Phineas Nigellus, still stroking his beard. ‘This is no cowardly flight—you are being noble. Then perhaps you are in the wrong house after all.’
Harry ignored him. His hand was on the doorknob when Phineas Nigellus said lazily, ‘I have a message for you from Albus Dumbledore.’
Harry spun around.
‘What is it?’
‘Stay where you are.’
‘I haven’t moved!’ said Harry, his hand still upon the doorknob. ‘So what’s the message?’
‘I have just given it to you, dolt,’ said Phineas Nigellus smoothly. ‘Dumbledore says, ‘Stay where you are.’ ‘
‘Why?’ said Harry eagerly, dropping the end of his trunk. ‘Why does he want me to stay? What else did he say?’
‘Nothing whatsoever,’ said Phineas Nigellus, raising a thin black
eyebrow as though he found Harry impertinent.
Harry’s temper rose to the surface like a snake rearing from long grass. He was exhausted, he was confused beyond measure, he had experienced terror, relief, and then terror again in the last twelve hours, and still Dumbledore did not want to talk to him!
‘So that’s it, is it?’ he said loudly. ‘Stay there? That’s all anyone could tell me after I got attacked by those dementors too! Just stay put while the grown-ups sort it out, Harry! We won’t bother telling you anything, though, because your tiny little brain might not be able to cope with it!’
‘You know,’ said Phineas Nigellus, even more loudly than Harry, ‘this is precisely why I loathed being a teacher! Young people are so infernally convinced that they are absolutely right about everything. Has it not occurred to you, my poor puffed-up popinjay, that there might be an excellent reason why the headmaster of Hogwarts is not confiding every tiny detail of his plans to you? Have you never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore’s orders has never yet led you into harm? No. No, like all young people, you are quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognize danger, you alone are the only one clever enough to realize what the Dark Lord may be planning...’
‘He is planning something to do with me, then?’ said Harry swiftly.
‘Did I say that?’ said Phineas Nigellus, idly examining his silk gloves. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have better things to do than to listen to adolescent agonizing...Good day to you...’
And he strolled into his frame and out of sight.
‘Fine, go then!’ Harry bellowed at the empty frame. ‘And tell Dumbledore thanks for nothing!’
The empty canvas remained silent.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
‘Harry, are you ok?’ It was Canini’s voice and she sounded quite worried. ‘I was just heading up to my room when I heard the yelling. Can I come in?’
The last thing Harry wanted right now was company, but he knew his sister well and knew that she wouldn’t leave him alone until she determined he was ok. He sighed.
‘Yes Cani, you can come in.’
He expected her to walk in somewhat timidly, but instead she strode in with her head held high and looked directly at Harry. He sometimes forgot that she wasn’t the broken three year old he had met a decade prior, and that she really had matured the past couple years. She closed the door behind her.
‘So, are you going to tell me who you were arguing with?’ she asked sternly.
Harry nodded towards the portrait, ‘One of Sirius’ ancestors was insulting me, but they’ve left.’
She stood silent for a moment, then asked, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He knew she was just trying to be kind, but the question really annoyed him.
‘You know what, no, I don’t want to talk about it. I am so sick of everyone asking me to explain myself today, I want someone else to do the talking for once instead of me!’
He expected her to leave after his outburst, but instead she walked over and sat on the corner of Ron’s bed.
‘Ok, ask me anything, and I’ll do the talking,’ she said calmly.
‘Really?’ asked Harry, not expecting this response.
‘Sure, you look like you could use a distraction.’
‘Er, ok,’ said Harry, now trying to think, anything before today seemed like a blur to him. Then he remembered something. ‘Yesterday, at the D.A. meeting, you had wanted to talk to me about something?’
‘Oh, right, that all seems so silly now after what’s happened,’ said Canini while rubbing the back of her neck embarrassed. ‘I wanted to ask you how old you were when you had your first crush?’
Out of anything Harry thought she might ask, that hadn’t been it. He had to think for a minute, Cho was definitely his first big crush and he had started liking her the previous year, but he had been finding people attractive for a couple years before that.
‘I’m not sure exactly when, but I think I started having my first small crushes when I was in my second or third year. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, a few days ago a fellow Hufflepuff in my year, Karl Limpley, confessed that he had feelings for me, and I don’t feel the same.’
‘Oh, well that’s normal, I’ve had people have crushes on me and I don’t feel the same back, there is nothing wrong with not being attracted to him.’
‘No Scarface, you don’t understand me, it’s not just him, I don’t really find anyone attractive or have odd feelings for anyone, at least not like how others describe,’ she exclaimed while looking a little anxious. ‘Nearly all my friends have had crushes already, even Laura and she’s a year younger than me. They get all giddy and their crushes consume their thoughts, but I don’t feel any of this towards anybody, I didn’t even react to the Veela at the World Cup last year. Am I broken or something?’
Harry’s anger and frustration softened slightly, he went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
‘You definitely aren’t broken,’ he assured her. ‘Every person is different, you might get your first crush soon, you might get it years in the future, or you may never feel those ways about other people, and I don’t think anything is wrong with any of those outcomes. You shouldn’t compare yourselves to others as you are unique so what happens to them may not happen to you, or at least not in the same way.’
Canini stood up, a small smile crept across her face and she gave Harry a hug.
‘Thanks big bro, that really means a lot.’
Harry didn’t quite feel up to physical affection at the moment, but he hugged back anyway.
‘Of course, I am always here for you.’
She then let go, ‘I was fetching something from my room to show Ginny, she’s probably wondering where I am.’
‘Ok, I’ll see you at supper,’ Harry responded as she reached the door.
‘Don’t go yelling at any more portraits,’ she joke, and with that she was gone.
Exhausted now both physically, mentally, and emotionally, Harry dragged his trunk back to the foot of his bed, then threw himself facedown upon the moth-eaten covers, his eyes shut, his body heavy and aching...He felt he had journeyed miles and miles...It seemed impossible that less than twenty-four hours ago Cho Chang had been approaching him under the mistletoe...He was so tired...He was scared to sleep...yet he did not know how long he could fight it...Dumbledore had told him to stay...That must mean he was allowed to sleep...But he was scared...What if it happened again..?
He was sinking into shadows...It was as though a film in his head had been waiting to start. He was walking down a deserted corridor toward a plain black door, past rough stone walls, torches, and an open doorway onto a flight of stone steps leading downstairs on the left...He reached the black door but could not open it...He stood gazing at it, desperate for entry...Something he wanted with all his heart lay beyond...A prize beyond his dreams...If only his scar would stop prickling...then he would be able to think more clearly...
‘Harry,’ said Theodore’s voice, from far, far away, ‘Moony and Mrs Weasley have finished making dinner, they just wanted me to let you know that if you’re too tired they set a plate aside for you to have later...’
Harry opened his eyes, but Theodore had already left the room.
He doesn’t want to be on his own with me, Harry thought. Not after what he heard Moody say...
He supposed none of them would want him there anymore now that they knew what was inside him...He would not go down to dinner; he would not inflict his company upon them. He turned over onto his other side and after a while dropped back off to sleep, waking much later in the early hours of the morning, with his insides aching with hunger, and Ron snoring in the next bed, and Theodore sleeping on the cot. Squinting around the room he saw the dark outline of Phineas Nigellus standing again in his portrait and it occurred to Harry that Dumbledore had probably set Phineas Nigellus to watch over him, in case he attacked somebody else.
The feeling of being unclean intensified. He half wished he had not obeyed Dumbledore’s order to stay...If this was how life was going to be in Grimmauld Place from now on, maybe he would be better off in Privet Drive after all.
Everybody else spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. Harry could not remember Sirius being in such a good mood in a long time; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he and Remus would have company over Christmas. Harry could hear his voice echoing up through the floor in the cold and empty drawing room where he was sitting alone, watching the sky outside the windows growing whiter, threatening snow, all the time feeling a savage pleasure that he was giving the others the opportunity to keep talking about him, as they were bound to be doing. When he heard Mrs Weasley calling his name softly up the stairs around lunchtime he retreated farther upstairs and ignored her.
It was around six o’clock in the evening that the doorbell rang and Mrs Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus or some other Order member had come to call, Harry merely settled himself more comfortably against the wall of the attic where he was hiding, trying to ignore how hungry he felt as he stared out a tiny window. It came as a slight shock when somebody hammered hard on the door a few minutes later.
‘Harry, we know you’re there,’ said Theodore’s voice. ‘You can’t avoid everyone forever, we need to talk to you.’
‘I want to be alone, go back to enjoying Christmas.’
‘Harry,’ said Canini’s voice, ‘I don’t think you want to be alone, your mood improved when you were talking with me earlier, so I think you actually do want company, and you do want to talk.’
Harry didn’t respond with words, but he did pull open the door a little, he was met with the faces of his two siblings, both looking quite concerned. Theodore put his shoe in the doorway so Harry wouldn’t be able to close the door again.
‘Alright,’ he said briskly, ‘come down to our bedroom, Mrs Weasley has lit a fire in there and and Remus left a bunch of sandwiches.’
Not able to close the door, and his stomach growling loudly, Harry followed them back to the second floor. When he entered the bedroom he was rather surprised to see both Ron and Ginny waiting for them, sitting on Ron’s bed, as well as the bushy hair and braces of Hermione Granger.
‘Hermione?’ asked Harry in shock, ‘how are you here?’
‘Ron and Ginny sent for me, and from being a member of Dumbledore’s Army, and the Weasley’s trusting me I was allowed to come. And I’m glad I did. I came on the Knight Bus, Dumbledore told me what had happened first thing this morning, but I had to wait for term to end officially before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore supposedly told her Mr Weasley was in St. Mungo’s, and he’d given you all permission to visit. So...’
She sat down next to Ginny, and his siblings closed the door and took a seat on the other bed, all five of them looked up at Harry.
‘Harry, how are you feeling?’ asked Canini.
‘Fine,’ said Harry stiffly.
‘Oh, don’t lie, Harry,’ said Hermione impatiently. ‘Theodore and Ginny say you’ve been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo’s.’
‘They do, do they?’ said Harry, glaring at one of his oldest friends and his foster brother. Ginny looked down at her feet but Theodore seemed quite unabashed.
‘Well, it’s the truth!’ he said. ‘And you have been avoiding eye contact with anyone!’
‘It’s not me who is avoiding eye contact, it’s you lot!’ said Harry angrily.
‘Maybe you’re taking it in turns to look and keep missing each
other,’ suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching.
‘Very funny,’ snapped Harry, turning away.
‘Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood,’ said Hermione sharply. ‘Look, the others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears—‘
‘Yeah?’ growled Harry, his hands deep in his pockets as he watched the snow now falling thickly outside. ‘All been talking about me, have you? Well, I’m getting used to it...’
‘I’ve wanted to talk to you since the night it all happened, Harry,’ said Theodore, ‘and the others have wanted to talk with you too, but you have been avoiding all of us since the hospital—‘
‘I didn’t want anyone to talk to me,’ said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.
‘Well, I hope you’ll at least talk to me,’ said Hermione, a little huffy, ‘seeing as I’m the only ally you have who has also experienced what being possessed by You-Know-Who is like, and maybe we can learn something from each other.’
Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. He now understood why Ron and Ginny has asked her to come and why the Order of the Phoenix allowed it. Then he turned on the spot to face her.
‘I’m sorry, I forgot,’ he said.
‘Yeah, well I never will,’ said Hermione coolly.
‘I said I’m sorry,’ Harry said, and he meant it. ‘So...so do you think I’m being possessed, then?’
‘I’m not sure yet. Are you losing time?’ Hermione asked. ‘One place one minute and the next somewhere completely different, but turns out hours had passed?’
Harry racked his brains.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Then for better or for worse I don’t think You-Know-Who has ever possessed you,’ said Hermione simply. ‘When it happened too me, there were large gaps in my memory were I had no idea what I had done in that time. It was almost like blinking. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t figure out what I had done or where I had been.’
Harry hardly dared believe her, yet his heart was lightening almost in spite of himself. He faced Ron and Ginny.
‘That dream I had about your dad and the snake, though—‘
‘This is the first time you’ve dreamt about Voldemort’s actions though, Harry,’ said Canini. ‘You had dreams and visions about Voldemort multiple times last year.’
‘This was different,’ said Harry, shaking his head. ‘I was inside that snake, I had its thoughts and feelings. It was like I was the snake...What if Voldemort somehow transported me to London—?’
‘I swear,’ said Hermione, sounding thoroughly exasperated, ‘that no one in this school reads “Hogwarts, A History”—‘
‘Can’t if you keep taking it out of the library,’ Theodore said jokingly.
She rolled her eyes and continued, ‘You can’t Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn’t just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry.’
‘And you never left the dorm, Harry,’ said Theodore. ‘You were only asleep a few minutes before you started violently tossing and moaning...’
Harry started pacing up and down the room again, thinking. What they were all saying was not only comforting, it made sense...Without really thinking he took a sandwich from the plate on the bed and crammed it hungrily into his mouth...I’m not the weapon after all, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief, and he felt like joining in as they heard Sirius tramping past their door toward his bedroom, singing more Christmas carols at the top of his voice.
How could he have dreamed of returning to Privet Drive for Christmas? Sirius’ and Remus’ delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. Sirius was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more, than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable. The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius’ family tree from view; and even the stuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.
Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find Ron going through a stack of presents at the foot of his bed. Theodore was just being to rub his eyes.
‘Happy Christmas Harry, I got a good haul this year,’ he informed Harry through a cloud of paper. ‘Got some sweets and some Quidditch equipment, it’s excellent, though Hermione’s got me a homework planner—anyway not sure where you and Theo’s presents are?’
He was referring to the fact that at the end of both Harry and Theodore’s bed there wasn’t a pile like there was for Ron, although Harry suspected why.
‘Back at the Cottage it is tradition we open presents together as a family, I bet they’re with Padfoot and Moony,’ as Harry put his glasses on and pulled the covers off, he through a pillow at Theodore whose eyes were still closed, ‘wake up, or you’re going to miss present opening.’
Theodore was definitely awake now.
‘Hey, I’m awake, I’m awake, just give me a minute.’
The two of them got up and as soon as they exited the door Harry nearly ran into Canini who had just come to fetch them.
'Sorry Harry, happy Christmas you guys, now lets get down stairs, Paddy and Moony are in the drawing room!'
The three siblings rushed down one flight of stairs until they were in the drawing room and saw Sirius and Remus sitting on one of the sofas, and under the tree was a pile of beautifully decorated presents.
'Happy Christmas kids,' said Sirius with a large grin and an arm around Remus. 'I hope there is at least some things here you like.'
'Since we couldn't leave the gifts we got are either home made or we picked from a catalogue and Tonks or the Weasley's picked up,' explained Remus. 'That's also why quite a few of them are books, but I think you'll enjoy them.'
They all got to unwrapping, both Harry and Theodore had matching small boxes from Remus and so they opened them at the same time. In each was a silver razor.
'When you two were here in August I noticed you both had some whiskers growing in. These are enchanted and won't accidentally cut you, and won't leave behind any stubble.'
'Thanks,' said Theodore.
Among the rest of his presents, Harry got the book "The Noble Sport of Warlocks" from Sirius, and "Curses and Counter-Curses" from Remus. Together Sirius and Lupin had given Harry an excellent book entitled "Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts", which had superb, moving color illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly; he could see it was going to be highly useful in his plans for the D.A. Tonks’s present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room, wishing he still had his full-size version; Mr and Mrs Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies; and Dobby, a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself, he had to turn it upside down to see whether it looked better that way.
Theodore received a different defence book called "Updated Counter-Curse Handbook" from both Sirius and Remus, "World Mythology" from Remus, and "First Love, First Loss" from Sirius which he seemed quite interested in.
Canini also received a defence book, this one was titled, "Charms of Defence and Deterrence" from Sirius and Remus, a young adult novel called "Enchanted Encounters" from Remus, charmed leather gloves from Sirius, a hand knitted Hufflepuff scarf from Tonks, and Sirius had taken the time to fix and polish the enchanted music box they had found in the summer, and now instead of putting them all to sleep it instead played a melody that sent a pleasant calming feeling through them all when opened.
All three of them had also received chocolate frogs from Tonks, and home baked cookies from Andromeda. Finally only two presents remained, Sirius picked up the first one and handed it to Remus, inside was a copy of "Enchantment in Baking".
'I know you've acquired quite a few baking and cooking books over the years,' said Sirius, 'but to my knowledge you don't have this one yet. I even think there are some new recipes in it for you to try.'
Remus practically beamed, 'Thank you Sirius, I can't wait to go through them.'
He then picked up the final present and handed it to Sirius, inside was a small stack of muggle magazine's, each titled "Rosenbaum's Motorcycle Owner's Manual" with a different number in the corner. Sirius look at them in awe.
'I remember how when we were in hogwarts you used to collect these, but had to stop when you left home and the war picked up, and you mentioned they stopped printing them in 1980. Well before his accident I got Arthur to search many muggle antique shops and old book stores and he managed to find all the issues you were missing.'
A small amount of tears welled up in Sirius' eyes, and he was quite choked up. He pulled Remus into a hug and said, 'Thank you Remus, this really means a lot to me. Merry Christmas and happy anniversary.'
'Happy anniversary to you as well my love.'
Theodore turned his head and whispered to Harry, 'Anniversary? I thought the wedding photo back at the cottage said they got married at the end of June?'
Harry whispered back, 'That's their wedding anniversary, but they first started dating Christmas day the year they adopted me, and got engaged the same day a year later.'
Harry was about to explain further when, with a loud crack, Fred and George Apparated in front of the four of them.
‘Happy Christmas,’ said George. ‘Don’t go downstairs for a bit.’
‘How come?’ asked Harry.
‘We just got back from warning Ron and Ginny. Mum’s crying again,’ said Fred heavily. ‘Percy sent back his Christmas jumper.’
‘Without a note,’ added George. ‘Hasn’t asked how Dad is or visited him or anything...’
Remus stood up, ‘Well why shouldn’t we go down stairs? It sounds like she needs someone talk to. Maybe I should go-‘
‘Yes, go. We tried to comfort her, maybe you’ll be more successful,’ said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry’s portrait, Remus had left the room before he continued. ‘Told her Percy’s nothing more than a humongous pile of rat droppings—‘
‘—didn’t work,’ said George, helping himself to a Chocolate Frog. ‘So lets see if Lupin can cheer her up. Best let him do his best before we go down for breakfast, I reckon.’
‘What’s that supposed to be anyway?’ asked Fred, squinting at Dobby’s painting. ‘Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes.’
‘It’s Harry!’ said George, pointing at the back of the picture. ‘Says so on the back!’
‘Good likeness,’ said Fred, grinning. Harry threw his new Quidditch book at him; Fred dodged and it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor, denting the wall. Harry winced and looked at Sirius.
‘Oops, sorry Padfoot.’
But a small grin rose in the corner of his godfathers mouth, ‘no worries, I’ve done worse to the walls in the past. Anyway, while we wait for Mrs Weasley to calm down a bit you all might as well get dressed and I’ll clean up in here.’
69 Votes in Poll
99 Votes in Poll
67 Votes in Poll
67 Votes in Poll
Today's Character: Scorpius Malfoy
Here's Mine: I think he is nice. He is sweet and underrated
Fun Fact: He is actually related to the Weasley's and Potter's through Phineas Nigellus Black
