Title: Harry Potter and the Keeper of the Phoenix
Author: Elizabeth Kelly
Rating: PG (K+)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, its plot and characters, belong to J.K. Rowling.
Summary: HPGW, RWHG, RLNT & JPLE The one thing he needs, is the one thing he could never have… until now. (Post HBP – Contains Spoilers) WIP
A/N: There are probably thousands of these, so I'm just going to toss mine onto the pile. This is my first Harry Potter Fic, and only my second WIP so any constructive criticism is welcome.
Chapter Two
A crash, followed by a long string of curse words, woke Harry up with a fright. Someone had broken into the Dursley's. Reaching for his glasses on his bedside table, he put them on and looked towards the door, or rather where the door should have been. Glancing around the room he panicked for a moment not knowing where he was. A chuckle from a portrait in the corner of the room brought back a sudden rush of memories. Privet Drive, Remus, Tonks, a mysterious house. Harry turned to face the portrait of an elderly wizard, whose glasses sat askew on his nose.
"Hello?" Harry said to the portrait.
"Well, good morning Mr Potter," the portrait replied.
"I don't mean to be rude, but how do you know my name?" Judging by the look of the portrait it was a least thirty years old and looked vaguely familiar. The portrait smiled at him, his eyes twinkling.
"Ah, my brother is very fond of you, and speaks of you highly," the portrait responded.
"Who is your brother?" Harry asked curiously.
"Why Albus, of course," the portrait replied looking a little surprised. Harry froze in shock.
"Where am I?" he finally managed.
"Didn't they tell you? Oh, dear. This is the house that Albus and I grew up in."
"I'm in Dumbledore's house?" he asked slowly, and the portrait nodded.
Harry felt like laying back down and crawling under the covers and going back to sleep, but he forced himself to do the opposite. Pulling back the covers, he slowly got out of bed, swaying on his feet. He gripped the bed post to steadied himself. Once the dizziness passed, he reached into his trunk and pulled out some clothes, and hastily pulled them on. Slowly he made his way down the stairs, listening to the loud voice that floated up the stairwell.
"Messer's Weasley and Weasley, what in Merlin's name do you thing you are doing?" Harry heard a muffled reply.
"I do not give a flying hippogriff if you think it will cheer him up or not. You are of age, and a member of the most important organisation in this war. Playing practical jokes is not in our constitution. Look it up. I want you to get rid of it right now," the angry voice of Professor McGonagall reached his ears, and from the sounds of it Harry was very pleased that he wasn't in, what he assumed to be, the twins shoes. One of them muttered a quiet reply that Harry, no matter how hard he strained his ears, could not hear. It quickly became apparent that the professor was not happy with his reply when her voice once again filled the hallway.
Eventually it died down and the sound of McGonagall walking away prompted Harry to walk down the stairs.
"Hey Guys," Harry greeted them. Both of them jumped and turned to face Harry.
"Ah, hello, Harry," Fred said brightly, glancing over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned around, following his gaze. There was nothing there.
"Hiya, Harry," George greeted, also looking over Harry's shoulder.
"Ah, Guys? What are you looking at?" their eyes, glanced at Harry.
"Nothing," George said with a wave of his hand.
"Just wondering why…" Fred was cut off by a piercing shriek. Harry turned around and glanced up the stairs from which he had just come down. Thousands of pink, purple, green and blue bubbles were falling from a puffy white cloud, each one squealing when it burst. Harry covered his ears to block out the sound. McGonagall's frustrated cries could be heard from the floor below.
"Silencio," George muttered, waving his wand, and the bubbles stopped shrieking.
"Sorry about that Harry, didn't quiet go to plan. We've been working on a new party line, the bubbles were supposed to be singing, while the suits of armour were going to be the accompaniment."
"At least there would have been a band of suits of armour, but we are still working on some balance issues," Fred explained pointing to the pile of toppled suits of armour lying on the floor. Harry smirked at the twins, who smiled seeing that they had improved Harry's mood.
Professor McGonagall came striding down the hall, muttering to herself. Glancing up, she saw Harry standing there.
"Po… er… Harry, you're awake." Harry nodded.
"Hello Professor," he said quietly.
"Fred, George, I want you to remove those things right this instant, then get back on duty, you were supposed to replace Nibbs ten minutes ago." They rolled their eyes and with a flick of their wands and a small wave to Harry, disapperated.
Once they had gone, McGonagall turned to Harry.
"Come along Harry, you must be hungry. I am not as great a cook as Molly, but I believe I make a mean lot of scrambled eggs," she smiled uncharacteristically at him.
"Thanks, professor, but I'm not really hungry."
"That one's not going to work with me Mr Potter. You are as skinny as a broomstick and Molly will hex me if I don't feed you properly," Harry stared at his professor. "Remus and Nymphadora both wanted to be here when you woke up, but unfortunately they were called away this morning. They asked if I would be here, when you woke up." Professor McGonagall, headed down the hallway, towards the kitchen.
Harry simply stood there and stared. Professor McGonagall was making him eggs for breakfast. He repeated that line to himself over and over again, yet it still didn't seem to make any sense. Realising he had been standing in the hallway for a couple of minutes now, he hurried off following McGonagall, hoping he hadn't become lost in the twists and turns that made up this labyrinth of a manor.
Entering the kitchen, he found McGonagall standing over the stove, cracking eggs into a fry pan.
"Ah, there you are Harry. Do you mind making the toast for me?" Harry numbly nodded, reaching for two pieces of bread that looked, and smelt, fresh. He watched as she prepared their eggs, wooden spoon in one hand, her wand out of sight.
"Why aren't you using magic?" Harry asked, curiously.
"Takes the taste out of the eggs in my opinion, Scrambled eggs muggle-style is far tastier," she replied, her straight mouth, twitching. Harry, seemingly satisfied for the time being, turned his attention back to the toast.
Minutes later, they were sitting down at the table eating 'McGonagall's Muggle Eggs', or so she had named them. He couldn't help but stare at her. This was not the professor he knew.
"Do I have egg on my face?" she asked politely, Harry jumped slightly at being addressed.
"No, it's just…" he trailed off.
"It's just what?" she prodded. Harry swallowed a forkful of eggs, before answering.
"Who are you and what have you done with Professor McGonagall?" he asked. She chuckled.
"I'm not always a professor Harry. Sometimes I'm just Minerva McGonagall, who happens to teach magic to a bunch of hormonal teenagers. You see, different teachers believe that different styles of teaching are better. Firm and strict is the best way, I believe, to teach students. Teachers like Remus however, prefer the caring, nurturing approach, which is fine. It means the students get a taste of different styles. But when the holidays come round I'm no longer Professor, instead I'm Minerva." Harry nodded, it seemed logical, still this new side to the professor would take some getting used to.
"How do you like the eggs, Harry?" she asked, looking at him hopefully.
"They're great," he replied, shovelling the last forkful into his mouth.
"I must say it is good to see you eating something, you look like you haven't eaten in days!" Harry guiltily looked down at his lap.
"I haven't," he confessed. McGonagall stared at him.
"I knew those muggles were no good for you! Probably fed all your food to their pig of a son. I told Albus they were no good, but he insisted. All day I watched them. The baby was kicking and screaming, yelling for sweets. He would have been barely more than eighteen months old. Sweets are not appropriate for a child of that age…"
"You've seen the Dursely's?" Harry cut her off, his curiosity peaking. Had McGonagall been one of his guards last summer?
"Oh, yes I saw them. Knew right away they were no good. You see Harry, I was there the night Albus left you with those rotten people. I didn't want to believe the stories, and Hagrid had told me that Albus was taking you to your relatives, so I had to see for myself. I sat on the brick wall, outside the front of the house all day watching them,"
"And they didn't call the police?" Harry asked amazed.
"I was a cat, Harry," she reminded him of her animagus transformations.
"Oh, right," he replied, slightly embarrassed.
"You were so small, and quiet. So…" she paused thinking of the right word. "Innocent," she continued, Harry shifted uncomfortably on his seat. This different side to his professor unnerved him a little. "Anyway, enough of that," she said shaking her head.
"I believe that we need to have a talk." Harry watched as she flicked her wand and their empty plates soared over to the sink and began to wash themselves.
"I suppose you are wondering where we are."
"No," Harry said cutting her off.
"You know where we are?" McGonagall asked curiously.
"Professor Dumbledore's brother told me."
"Dumbledore's brother? Aberforth? I thought he was dead?"
"He is," Harry explained. "But there's a portrait of him in the room I stayed in." McGonagall nodded in understanding.
"Very well then you know that we are using the Headmaster's… I mean Professor Dumbledore's home as the new headquarters. We moved not long after Mundungus was arrested. It was a good thing too, because, as secret keeper of number 12 Grimmuld place, upon Albus's death, the house would no longer be safe, besides who knows what information Mundungus would give the other side in return for his life."
"But wouldn't Dumbledore have been the secret keeper for the new headquarters?" Harry asked.
"No Harry that is something else we need to talk about. Since the beginning of the last school year, Albus had known of his fate. It appears Professor Trelawny had a vision, and Albus insisted on believing her," Harry could hear the distrust in her voice. "But I suppose she had been right all along. Probably the only real prediction she's ever made." Harry kept his mouth shut, he knew that she had made at least three. "Anyway, Albus spent the entire year getting his affairs in order. Why do you think he had those private lessons with you this year?" Harry shrugged. "Professor Dumbledore would have wanted me to tell you this, and I want you to wait until I am finished speaking before you make a comment." Harry nodded in silent anticipation.
"Harry, Professor Snape is still working as a double agent for the Order." Harry made a motion to speak, but McGonagall held up her hand.
"Wait, Harry. Albus made it clear to Severus that if he was ever put in the position where his spy-status was in jeopardy, that he would do anything short of killing you to protect his position. Albus made Severus take an unbreakable vow to do as such. You see Harry, in the end Professor Dumbledore knew he wasn't worth as much as you or the information that Severus could bring to the order, and so he sacrificed himself. Professor Snape was simply fulfilling Professor Dumbledore's orders."
"But he begged for his life!" Harry exclaimed "I heard him I was there."
"What exactly did you hear?"
"He kept saying 'please. 'Please Severus, please', Snape just stood there and listened to him begging for his life!"
"You don't think he meant 'Please Severus, remember your vow', while Severus stood there struggling with the choice he was faced with." Harry sat there mouth agape. "I know that you and the potions master have never seen eye to eye, but Professor Dumbledore trusted him, isn't that enough?" Harry remained still, unable to think of anything to say.
He seemed to be having mixed emotions. A part of him felt relief for knowing the truth, another part still remained angry at Snape for killing his mentor. Unsure of just how he should be feeling, Harry, instead, opted to remain silent.
"Professor Dumbledore left this letter that he wanted to be given to you after his death." Harry took the letter that McGonagall had produced somewhere from within the folds of her cloak. "Open it," she prompted him.
With a shaky hand Harry opened the letter.
Dear Harry,
I start by apologising, I really wish I could have fought by your side until the very end, but fate had other plans for me. I have watched you mature and grow from a tiny, helpless infant into the courageous and loyal young Gryffindor you are now. Knowing you as I like to think I do, then you have decided not to return to Hogwarts this year and that is understandable. However, I made a promise to your parents that I intend to keep, so I made some arrangements that will allow for you to complete your education, and perhaps give you that which you have been missing your entire life.
Remember, Harry, that death is but the next great adventure, and wherever I go, I want you to know that I will be having a grand time. (Hopefully, wherever I am there will beplenty of socks!). I also want you to know that I will never truly leave you. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of teaching you over the last six years, and I want you to know that I am so very proud of you. Best wishes with your journey in life and remember that it's your ability to love that sets you apart.
Your Humble Servant,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry tried to stop the flood of tears that had been building up inside, but in the end he couldn't contain them. Furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he tried, unsuccessfully, to stem the flow. First his mother and father, then his godfather, now his mentor; Harry had this overwhelming urge to shove Lupin into a locked room and not let him out until the war was over. Professor McGonagall stood up and moved to sit in the chair beside Harry. Awkwardly she placed her arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a tense hug.
It was a number of minutes before Harry had regained control of his feelings, and pulled away from McGonagall.
"Sorry, Professor," he said, his cheeks turning pink.
"It's alright Harry, I understand."
They sat quietly for a few more minutes, before Harry broke the silence.
"Do you know about the arrangements Professor Dumbledore made for me to complete my seventh year?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall nodded.
"Yes, you will find out in just over a month's time," she said. "And that's all you need to know for the moment," she added, anticipating Harry's question.
The sound of footsteps in the hall alerted the kitchen's occupants of some newcomers and Harry wiped the remaining tear tracks away with his sleeve. A couple of moments later Lupin and Tonks walked in, both looking thoroughly exhausted, Tonks' shoulder length hair now a fiery red.
"Hello Harry, Minerva," Lupin greeted him, as Tonks waved, her face stuffed with a slice of the bread that was still sitting on the table.
"Hi, Professor, Hi Tonks," Harry replied, Professor McGonagall nodded in greeting.
"I thought we agreed last night that you would call me Remus?" Lupin said sitting down in the chair on the other side of Harry.
"I don't really remember much of last night," Harry admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Yes, well, I am glad to see you have improved. Unfortunately, I won't be able to protect you from Molly when she arrives here for the meeting this afternoon."
"Thank you for coming to get me," Harry said sincerely to Lupin and Tonks. "I don't think I would have survived much longer."
"Your welcome, Harry," Tonks replied. Lupin placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Harry, don't you ever scare me like that again," he said sternly. Harry saw the mixture of anger and sadness in his pseudo-uncle's eyes.
"I'm sorry," Harry apologised. Remus pulled Harry in for a fierce hug.
"And I'm sorry you had to go through his death alone." Silently they forgave each other and the group changed the topic and began to discuss Bill and Fleur's upcoming wedding.
As Lupin, McGonagall and Tonks laughed over a fiasco involving the bridesmaid dresses, Harry couldn't help but wonder how life could just carry on. The world has lost one of the greatest wizards that ever lived, and still life continued on as normal. Harry, however, knew that for him, life would never be the same again.
A/N: Well that's Chapter Two up. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Harry may have been a little OOC here and I have a feeling I will regret it later, but for them moment I want to leave it like it is. Chapter Three should be up in a week or so. Thanks for reading.
