Chapter Two
McGonagal stood in the office of the Minister of Magic even though she had been invited to sit down. Scrimgeour was not looking at her, but instead, was sorting papers on his desk. Periodically, Percy Weasley slipped into the room along with several other assistants and laid more paperwork on the top of the fine polished mahogany surface. The man exploded in frustration, "For goodness sake, Weasley. Let me at least remove some of this confounded paper before you ply me with more!"
Percy jerked away in terror and stepped backward out of the room glancing at McGonagal once. She, on the other hand, acted as if he were not present. "As I was saying," she continued, her lips barely moving and frozen in a thin line on her face. "You are aware of the weakness in our defense that allowed the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts and to kill…," she paused only briefly and changed direction. "Since it was Severus Snape that killed the Headmaster and not someone that forced their way in; it hardly seems reasonable to penalize all of the children by closing the school. There are many parents who can only show their support, and want to show their support of our side, by sending their children there. We have plugged the hole, Minister. Hogwarts is safe, if not safer than it has ever been."
The man finally cast a dour look at her and stood. "Very well, Minerva. I will allow Hogwarts to remain open, if only to rid myself of half the papers on this desk. Do you realize that I have letters here from two-thirds of the student's parents… ?" He stopped and dropped a paper he held high in his hand and leaned against the desk and glared. "Of course you do. You put them up to this!" He leaned over the desk and waited, studying her face.
She stared back. "I don't know what you are talking about Minister."
"Humpf!" he growled. "Alright, you have it your way. But I am not Cornelius Fudge and I will not bend my will to your every fancy. If there is even the slightest tremor coming from that school I will personally apparate out there and close and lock the front door myself!"
She bowed her head slightly and bent her rigid body even less in acknowledgement.
He continued, "I will send a formal letter making you Headmistress; at least until things calm down and a search for other qualified applicants can be made."
"I prefer to remain Deputy Headmistress, Minister; but thank you for the offer. I will of course, run the school to the best of my abilities."
"Who will you replace as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? It is a sensitive position right now, as you are more than aware. I could break one of my Aurors free and send them over."
"Thank you for your suggestion and I will consider it," she murmured. "I think perhaps that all of our disciplines are affected by current events and I have instructed the teachers to add a section of that subject in with their own material. Most are qualified to do that and if they do not have the expertise, it will be provided."
Scrimgeour grimaced and sat himself down again and leaned back. He waited until he thought that she would grow fatigued from standing, or uncomfortable with the silence before proceeding. It was a ploy he had used with his Aurors when he had managed the Department of Law Enforcement. It always worked- except for this time. McGonagal remained silent and motionless; it was obvious she was not intimidated.
He smiled, a smile that didn't reach his flinty dark eyes. "By god, Minerva, I wish you were fifty years younger! I would have had you at my side. I can see why old Dumbledore thought you were first rate." The words were solicitous and she knew it. She did not respond and his face became once again grim. "Very well! Open the school and be done with it."
Minerva left the room and stepped to an apparation-free zone and disapparated out of the building. Scrimgeour leaned back in the chair at his desk looking at the empty room and finally touched his desk with his wand. Seconds later a dozen or more rolls of parchment burst into little flames and vanished from sight. There was no longer any trace of the letters sent by the parents of Hogwarts students.
Without the incriminating evidence, he sat looking absentmindedly at the rest of the paperwork in front of him and realized that a folder remained dead-center on his desk. He'd left it that way as a reminder. He knew that if McGonagal was not true to her word by keeping things quiet at Hogwarts, he would have an advantage, he would call in a favor. Laying on the desk was a very thick folder that held the all the information ever gathered together on one, Mr. Harry Potter.
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Harry traveled north via London Cross station, but not by the Hogwarts Express. He traveled as a muggle, dressed as a muggle. Hermione had been right, very few people in the crowded trains noticed the rather thin, blond-headed boy with the dark glasses that curled into a sleep and appeared to sleep for the entire journey. He would always step on at the last moment and wake just in time to follow the bulk of the crowd off the train and into the station.
He would walk behind tourists in their banana-colored Bahama shorts and shirts, or those who wore blouses with tortured colors of lime green or candy-apple red; their legs always glimmered pale like the underbelly of a fish. They'd stop unexpectedly to aim their cameras at everything that stood in their paths and everyone in their wake would be brought up short. Harry didn't think that even Voldemort would be caught dead facing this lot and he shadowed some of those with wider girth so as to remain unseen.
When awake he would eat, read and study the map. When asleep he would dream of the night on the tower and in his mind replay the scene over and over. If not that dream, then his unconscious mind would travel back through the pensieve and he would be there with Dumbledore. The memories of what Dumbledore had shown him took on a sharpness of detail. Harry would wake and the face of one of the Gaunts would be floating at the edge of his vision, or he would have a dream about the trip to the cave and lake. It would rouse him from a deep slumber and he could actually feel the hands of the Inferi pulling hungrily at him.
Dumbledore's words sprang to his ears and he was repeating them when he woke, "I'm not worried Harry, I am with you." He had spoken the words just before they apparated from the cave to Hogsmead and Harry woke mumbling them.
He woke from one such dream and hastily turned to the window in the train carriage, forcing himself to take deep breaths and calm himself. An older woman seated across from him noticed the anguish on his face and heard his weak cry. She looked up from her book and stuck a postcard in it to keep her place. Harry knew she was looking at him and refused to meet her gaze.
"Are you alright?" the woman asked kindly.
Harry pulled his cap down and nodded without turning. "Yes, just a bad dream."
"Oh, I used to have those when I was a child," the lady said. "Nasty things."
They were in the compartment alone and Harry decided that he could be polite and not cause harm. He was feeling lonely. He looked at her. She was a large woman, not fat but just large. It put him in mind of Madam Maxime, the Beaubatons Headmistress. This woman, however, was gray haired and her skin was wrinkled and creased like an elephant. She wore a pair of pince-nez and stared at him over them.
"Not that I'm calling you a child, dear," she said, and smiled.
"I'm alright now," Harry answered.
They chatted about the weather, the trip and the small village the train was stopping at. Harry remained vague about his journey. The older woman caught on and changed subjects. " You have a look about you as if you had just finished school and were on a holiday trip. But you don't look happy about it dear. I should warn you, it is lovely in the north, you know." She continued to talk and Harry leaned back and allowed his mind to drift. Several days before he had met with Lupin at No.12 Grimmauld Place.
He stood in front of the house, not visible yet between the two other houses on the street. The lamps on the street were bright and he was staying the shadow of a large bush. He waited for a half hour, not moving, hardly breathing and watched. After waiting, he hurried forward, envisioned the street number in his head and ran quickly up the steps to the door. His hand was on the knob when it turned. It was opened by Lupin who ushered him in and down the hall to the sitting room with just the tip of his wand lit. Harry could barely see in the darkened hallway and noticed that Mrs. Black's portrait was covered with the well-worn black curtain. He hurried past in silence, not wanting to wake her.
Remus lit a lamp when they were finally in the sitting room and turned to him. "Can I offer you tea, Harry?" he asked, sitting in a large leather chair. He looked slightly better than he had weeks before at Dumbledore's funeral. Harry nodded and sat opposite him. "I've checked the house and its clear. There is no one here and it doesn't look like anybody's been here for awhile. I reset the charms on the doors and used the same encantation Albus used so that you could enter." The gray eyes came up and studied him.
Harry felt mildly comforted by the sight of his old professor and his parents old friend. "I didn't have a chance to tell you that I think you and Tonks…." he stopped and Remus smiled slightly with just the corners twisted up under his moustache. "Well, I'm glad you're together."
Lupin nodded and picked up his cup. "Thank you, Harry. We don't have much time and I think it's best to get to business right away."
"Alright," Harry answered reluctantly. There were many things he wanted to discuss with Lupin, but he hated being in the house and he wanted to be his way."
Lupin seemed to know and understand what was on his mind. "Hermione's told me you're on your way to Godrics Hollow. It's in the northland, and a bit tricky to find." He reached in his pocket and withdrew and small parchment. "She also told me she taught you the pointing spell?"
Harry remembered the spell he had used to get through the maze at the Tri-wizards tournament. He accepted the papers and there were some numbers scrawled on it.
"Just touch the paper when you're doing the spell and it will point the direction out for you. When you get to the village ask the muggles where the most haunted place is. They'll point you to the house and when you enter and cross the threshold you'll walk through the portal into our world. Your parent's house seems to have left a legacy even in that world. It still has a residue of dark magic that surrounds it. Don't be surprised if you feel it and it makes you sick for awhile." He frowned and shook his head slightly and then continued. "Now, I've taken the liberty to place a few people along the way and they will look out for you and send me back information."
Harry started to protest, "Remus, I'd prefer…"
"Yes, yes Harry, I know." Lupin smiled again. "You want to do it your way. But you have asked me to take on the position just vacated as Secret Keeper for the Order and I take it- to be its' leader?" The eyebrows were raised in a question and Harry nodded. "Well then I have made a decision to add a little more security for you."
"What the purpose of initiating me into the Order?" Harry asked so he would not be tempted to argue.
"It provides more protection. Our messages are protected and are transmitted only to other Order members," Lupin explained.
"What about….Snape," Harry asked coldly. "He was initiated. Will he be able to intercept our messages?"
Lupin looked at him, leaned forward and then looked down to study his teacup. "I believe that you should focus on Voldemort, Harry. Leave Snape up to me."
Harry watched Lupin studying his teacup and say the words as if he were just chatting with him. He also saw his fingers clasp the teacup and whiten, Lupin's face did not change. Harry wondered if, at any minute, the teacup would not shatter into pieces from the firm grip. There was silence for several minutes and then Lupin let go of the cup and looked up. "The initiation is very simple and will only take a moment. Obviously, I have already performed the Fidelius charm to make myself Secret keeper. Is there anything else before I proceed?"
Harry pondered his question. He had told no one of the Horcruxes and his mission with Dumbledore to the cave. If he were to be killed or disabled, there would be no one that would know where to begin. And then he thought about Lupin and how he had infiltrated the lair of the most wicked and evil werewolf he'd ever seen; Fenrir Greyback. Would it be safe to tell him? he wondered.
"Are you going back to Fenrir?" he asked.
"Can't Harry. Fenrir saw me at Hogwarts fighting the Death Eaters. He got a good look at me. It wouldn't be safe. As a matter of fact, I will have to be very careful to not stray into his territory," Lupin answered.
Thinking twice on the matter, Harry decided that Lupin had enough on his plate and kept silent.
"Are you ready?" Lupin asked.
Harry was about to shake his head, his mind going in another direction when he realized Lupin meant to initiate him into the Order. "Oh, uh, yes. What shall I do?" he prepared to rise to his feet.
"Well we shouldn't tarry any longer Harry," Lupin said. "If you need me then send word. Tonks says she showed you how to do it."
Harry remembered having gotten off the Hogwarts express after Tonks had found him and released him from the paralysis that Draco Malfoy had placed on him. She had then sent her Patronus to Dumbledore. He nodded and started towards the door, stopped and turned back. "Remus there is something that you can do for me. Dumbledore had a ring, a gold one with a black stone cracked down the middle that was sitting on a table in his office. I don't know where its got to but I'd like to know that you have it and its hidden somewhere. Be sure and not touch it," he added.
Remus looked up from his chair and paused for a moment. His eyes roamed over Harry's face. "Was that what burned and scarred his hand?"
Harry didn't answer.
"He never did say what happened," Lupin mumbled and then with greater clarity said, "Yes, I'll go look for it straight away- tonight."
"Keep it safe, Remus," Harry said, and turned and left the building.
He was remembering his request to Lupin and wondering if Remus had found the ring when the old woman sitting across from him on the train asked her question again?"
"Harry, do you get off at the next stop?" she asked.
"How…how do you know my name is Harry?" he countered, suddenly very wary.
She shrugged innocently and said, "When you were dreaming. You said, 'I'm not worried Harry, I am with you.' Those were the exact words. I took it to mean that you was Harry and someone else was talking to you."
"Oh…oh yes, well it was the name of a friend I had when I was little, " Harry gulped back the fear. "My name is John."
"I see." She smiled broadly. "Well, I was saying that we're about to reach Little Hangleton. That's a hop-skip and a jump from Godrics Hollow. Not sure if you were going on to Bobbington or stopping off at Little Hangleton? There's a number of tiny villages in between, but a fair nuisance if you don't get off at the right stop to go to one or another."
Harry felt his jaw drop. He knew what Little Hangleton was. He'd never been there in person but had been there with Dumbledore in the pensieve. How could I have missed that? he wondered and pulled the map from his pack again. He hurriedly unfolded it and glanced at the places he had circled with his quill in the dirty, squalor of the London flat.
Yes, yes, there it is, he thought to himself as he followed the train line with a dirty fingernail. And not far, in a succession of villages, like beads strung on a necklace, all mapped along a single line were little dots and on one were the faded words, Godrics Hollow.
"That's where I'm headed," she said as the train slowed and she gathered her parcels around her. Her meaty fist closed on a large bag with an umbrella stuffed between the straps.
"Where's that again?" Harry asked jerking his head up.
"Little Hangleton," she answered and heaved herself to her feet. "It's been nice chatting with you John. You have a nice holiday."
He watched her ample backside disappear out the compartment door and he rose unsteadily and followed.
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Somewhere in London in a mansion that sat in a secluded private park filled with magnificent trees, a woman stood in the sitting room of that mansion. She was dressed in a long white gown, her pale skin and white hair almost the same shade as the dress. Rubies sparkled at her slim neck. Standing in front of her was a man with black hair and a sallow complexion holding his arm around her son's neck. The boy was staring at her, but vacantly as if he were lost to the world. The man was holding his wand on her.
"Severus," she said. "What are you doing? What's happening?" She eyed her son and took a step forward. He shook his head slightly and she stopped.
"Your sister has betrayed you and told the Dark Lord of our vow. The only way to break that vow is to kill you," Snape said it very slowly, with his arm held out rigidly in front of him.
"You wouldn't…c..couldn't do that," she said, breathlessly and then held her head high. "Not in front of my son, Snape."