Harry Potter and the Key to Summer
Chapter Three.
Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything.
– Warren Gamaliel Harding
Harry grumbled as he shifted, wondering why he was dreaming of summer while still in school. Eyes still closed, he listened for the familiar sounds of the tower dormitory; Ron's snores, Dean's restless shifting, but only silence greeted him. The comfortable bed was a dead giveaway though, so figuring maybe everyone was just having an early day, he burrowed back under his blanket and tried to recapture the bliss of a dreamless sleep.
"I knew Gryffindors were lazy, but this is ridiculous," a feminine voice lilted at him from the darkness beyond his eyes, causing him to start and jump up to the head of the bed.
Glaring around wildly without this glasses, all Harry could make out was a vaguely blue blur atop a larger gray one, barely discernible from the rest of the slate-gray room. "Tonks? That you?"
"Yessir, here, they're on this side. No bedside table per se in here." The blur moved to his right, and pressed the familiar shape of his glasses into his hand. "Now that you're properly awake, do you remember the rather important conversation we had before you decided to check out on me?"
Harry adjusted his glasses onto his face and peered at Tonks, trying to keep himself from glaring. "Oh, you mean the part where you kidnapped me, brought me to..." blinking a moment, Harry sighed. "Get back to that in a moment. Kidnapped, interrogated, and then had me agree to taking an Oath of secrecy about the Unspeakables and Department of Mysteries." Tapping his chin, he looked about the room before leveling his glare back to Tonks, "I think that about sums it up."
Smirking, the young Auror shook her head. "Well, at least Hermione rubbed off on you some." When Harry bristled at the snide comment, she held up a hand to still him. "Just listen a bit, alright? I'll explain some things, then you can dress me down.
"First off, I'm not an Unspeakable. I'm just an Auror, but due to the contamination of the Ministry proper after Vol.. Volde – You-Know-Who's return, the Unspeakables approached me, saying they needed an inside person. Someone to help them figure out who was and wasn't on the up-and-up," shrugging a bit, she settled onto the end of his bed and continued. "I was already spying for the Order, so figured I could put in a bigger shower with the extra cash."
Mouth working silently, Harry just shook his head. "So you're a spy for some other... hold on. What are the Unspeakables anyway? That explanation of yours was really vague."
Tonks ran a hand through her hair and shrugged slightly, "To be honest? I'm not fully sure myself. You noticed me signing those forms too right?" When Harry nodded an affirmative, she went on, "I was agreeing to the same. If you'd not agreed, I'd have been Obliviated, again, and sent... well back out."
"Wait a minute. Again? They Obliviated you?" Harry was livid at this, having dealt with Lockhart his entire second year at Hogwarts. The foppish fool had nearly managed to do the same to him, but for Ron's broken wand, Harry would have forgotten that entire year in all likelihood.
Tonks waved her hands, trying to calm Harry, "No, no they didn't. Sit," waving her wand, Harry found himself quite bound and settled where he was. Growling under his breath he struggled slightly. "Stay... good." Smirking to herself, Tonks shrugged off the daggers Harry was glaring at her and went on with her story. "When you told me about your problems, with Dumbledore and the rest, I started thinking. I had been working with the Unspeakables for a while by then, like a few others that are basically Ministry liaisons. Bode I think is one.
"Anyway, they had approached me after the Department of Mysteries battle, while I was holed up in St. Mungo's, and asked me about what it was all over." Pausing, Tonks took a moment to collect her thoughts. "I guess they put things in perspective for me. They took me in a bit deeper, told me about your Prophecy, and asked that I keep an eye on the Order as well."
Shaking his head slightly, Harry tried to take in all that Tonks was saying, but kept coming up short when it was revealed she was the spy among them. "So... I take it Fudge knows more about the Order than he's letting on."
"Him? Oh Merlin no." Laughing, she stood and poured a cup of water from the pitcher, bringing it to Harry. She unbound him, now that things seemed to have calmed, and they sat amicably. "The Unspeakables have more animosity against him that You-Know-Who."
"I thought you said they work for the Ministry though?" Confused, Harry sighed, realizing all the knots he was trying to follow were simply giving him a headache.
Grimacing, Tonks shook her head slowly. "Oh, no. They're separate. Just think of them for now like a separate department under... the Queen."
Harry raised a brow at her hesitation, "Are you sure about that, Tonks?"
Laughing, she stood and pulled Harry up after her. "Lets have some lunch, get some tea and a bit of toast into us, and we'll get it all straitened out. It's a long story, and one maybe I shouldn't be the one to tell."
Shrugging he realized that was likely all he was going to get from the Auror and Harry followed Tonks from the nondescript room. Noticing he was passing more of the same, a veritable hive of blank gray rooms, his curiosity peaked, "Where is this place?" He tried to place the feeling of where he was, and failed each time something seemed familiar.
"Well, you remember that Locked Room in the Department of Mysteries last year?" At Harry's nod, she smirked, "Well, unlike what Dumbledore would have you believe, it's not 'love' behind the door."
Snickering a bit, Harry shook his head slowly, "So he has no idea then?"
"Hardly. For the most part, only the practical side of the Department is visible to the Ministry proper as I understand. The rooms you know of, for instance." They turned a corner at the end of the hallway, coming out under a stone archway into a larger room. Here, numerous other gray-cloaked figures seemed to be meeting, moving and making their way about. Harry boggled at the number of them, till a slight figure in a robe moved forward and bowed to him solemnly.
"Heir Potter, it is our pleasure to grant you the protection of the Shrouded Isle. My duty as one of the Whispered is to assist and help those under the auspices of the Unspeakables," so saying, the hooded and robed young woman went silent, standing by the stunned Boy-Who-Lived and his equally gobsmacked companion.
Harry looked to Tonks, who to his anxiety was simply boggling at the slight form before him. "Ah, well... thank you?" Unsure how to proceed, Harry extended his hand to young woman, if the voice were any indication. To his growing horror, the cloaked figure took his hand and bowed over it deeply again. "You don't have to do that..."
The figure simply stood after her show of deference and gestured to the room beyond, "Here are the commons. Until we key you to Murmur's Hall completely, please restrict yourself to this room, and the hall you've just left. If you are allowed, I shall show you the library, once we've enjoyed a repast." Without pause, she moved forward and seemingly toward a corner of the room, housing a small depression people seemed to be moving in and out of steadily.
Tonks shrugged and moved after, speeding her steps to keep up with their guide. "Great, Department of Mysteries indeed. Understatement of the year," muttering under his breath, Harry followed suit, trying not to loose sight of the small form of their guide in the confusing press of similarly cloaked figures.
Much to the two visitor's surprise, the cafeteria was well stocked, if simple in fare. Few complex dishes were in appearance, as most of the food could be considered finger food or fruit. Harry found the change simple yet satisfying. "This isn't what I imagined the Ministry-bound elves to be serving, I kind of like the difference."
Their guide stilled, and seemed to look at him steadily for a moment. "Excuse me?"
As Harry glanced around, he felt the pressure of a number of eyes, as he sputtered and tried to reword his comment, "Ah, I mean... at Hogwarts, the kitchens are run by house-elves. Is that not the case here?"
The young woman shook her head, the hood of the cloak relaying the motion. "Here, we do not use the Law-bound to do tasks. We of the Whispered, whom make up this place you call the Department of Mysteries, have no servants." The words were said quietly, but both Tonks and Harry sat back with the feeling behind them.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, not knowing the customs and habits of the odd people that seemed so different from the rest of wizarding Britain. The moment seemed to have passed, as their guide picked up after a minute, describing the daily routines about the Murmur's Hall, which comprised the areas they were in. Harry gathered the Hall was the entirety of this area, broken into it's three parts.
He'd awoken in the dormitories, living space and rooms for the Unspeakables and their guests that had access to the Locked Room. Harry guessed that counting himself and Tonks, there were currently two such guests. The rooms were mostly muggle, no magic at all to be had. Harry had seen little that spoke of magic within the Hall so far, so the fact that the entire place was settled inside the Ministry for Magic itself surprised him more than a little.
Where he and Tonks were currently dining and speaking with their guide, was the commons. As it was described, this area was the public room for the Hall, where people spoke and chatted, socialized and met informally. The cafeteria was here, and there was a shift breakdown it was revealed, that had each Unspeakable presently residing in the Hall working there at some point.
Unseen to them, and leading off in the opposite direction from the entrance to the dorms, was the library. Here, most of the research and notation done in the Department of Mysteries occurred. Harry had wondered what kind of recording situation was present, as when the battle outside had waged, there was precious little actual office space to speak of. As it turned out, research into the mechanics and the fulfillment of Prophecies took up a large portion of the libraries work. This made sense, as quite a lot of the floor space Harry had seen in the outer Department had been devoted to the Hall of Prophecy.
"For the time being, please restrict yourselves to the dormitories and commons. Some texts in the library are not for the eyes of the uninitiated, or untrained," the young woman explained. "In time, when we understand you a bit more, we shall lift this restriction. This will be our help to you, as we agreed in the Geis binding you to secrecy."
Harry nodded that he understood but held up his hand, stalling any further words from their guide. "Just a moment, if you please. When you met us, you called me 'Heir Potter'," pausing to gauge the robed figure's reaction, he simply saw a small nod. Shrugging he continued, "You can call me Harry, I'd actually prefer that to any title."
A few moments passed before the figure seemed to bow her head slightly. "Then we shall call you Harry."
Tonks watched this with mild curiosity, "You get used to the odd way they handle names, eventually. Took me a while to be someone other than 'Auror', something they called me since the beginning."
Turning to the hooded figure, Harry asked a question that had bothered him since they'd entered the commons, "What is your name, then?" Harry inquired, watching the figure seem to shift uncomfortably.
Finally, their guide seemed to slump, and rose stiffly. "Follow me, please," she said, barely in a whisper. Harry sat, somewhat confused as the young woman's answer was not what he'd expected. Again, Tonks was fast behind the cloaked figure as Harry sped to keep up.
He found the two of them turning the corner into the dormitories, and Harry sighed as he got the feeling he'd traded the Dursleys and his locked room for a bland, empty version of a holiday at Hogwarts. As he pulled up alongside Tonks, the robed woman guiding them stopped and gestured to a room along the Hall.
"This will be your standing quarters. If there is something you need beyond the present amenities, please note it on the parchment, and leave it on the table near the door." Opening the door to the room, she gestured inside and the two went in, inspecting the lay of the quarters. Without another word, the woman slipped out, the door closing of it's own weight behind them.
"Hold on! You didn't... damnit." Harry stared down the hallway, looking either way after the cloaked figure, but saw no one in the hall. Turning with a sigh he closed the door again and stared at the far wall, feeling almost as lost as the day after Sirius died.
Padding around the room anxiously, Tonks looked at Harry and waited for him to ask the question she knew should be asked, sooner as opposed to later. When it seemed his preoccupation wasn't passing, she huffed and sat down on the corner of the large bed. "Oh, Harry?"
Snapping out of his rather annoyed reverie, Harry took in Tonks's expression and winced. "What's up, Tonks?"
She gestured at the room, shaking her head slowly. "See something missing?"
Harry scanned the walls, seeing them typically bare and of the same slate color as everything else he'd seen. The table by the wall was large, doubling as a work area and desk he figured, as the pair of chairs by it may have suggested. Their things – his trunk and her bags, were arranged by what seemed to be closets. A small door to the side provided a loo, so that question was answered. Light seemed keyed to them asking for more or less, and was provided invisibly, which seemed to bother him less than he would have assumed it would, a few years ago. "Not sure, what am I not seeing?"
Rolling her eyes, she tossed a pillow at him, growling slightly, "How about the other bed?"
-
-
Harry Potter, supposed savior of the wizarding world, lay with his head on the somewhat lumpy pillow, his back cramping at the hardness of the floor. "Look, I said I was sorry. I wasn't paying attention, and then she was gone."
Tonks's hand flopped into view over the edge of the room's only bed, expressing her view of the situation eloquently to the young wizard.
Sighing, Harry just shifted and tried to get comfortable on the hard floor. "Tonks, will you try to explain how I ended up here? If you're not keen on sleep yet at least," hoping some conversation would calm the Auror, Harry sat up and lay his arms on the mattress, meeting the eyes of his unlikely room mate.
With a mumble, Tonks scrunched up her nose and groaned. "Yeah, I can never sleep right in a new place," patting the bed beside her, she scooted over and up, resting against the headboard. "C'mon, hard to talk to you down there."
Warily Harry sat on the bed, staying above the coverlet which Tonks was still under. "You mentioned something earlier that worried me. Something about being Obliviated."
"Ah, right. The Order meeting I don't remember," chuckling a bit, she stretched and settled back against her pillow, a sardonic smile painted along her features. "After the first few times I'd visited you, I was pretty sure that something had to be done. Not sure what, but I had that feeling, you know?" When Harry nodded, she grinned and continued her tale, "Well, considering the Unspeakables wanted me to spy on the Order like they did with the Aurors, I had started to get suspicious. Not of them, you see.
"I always wondered what Albus was doing, keeping Snape in the Order. That, and the tales about your family, those horrible Dursley people, kind of tipped the scales." Closing her eyes, she shrugged, voice lowering as she devoted herself to memory. "Sirius's note to me clinched it, honestly. He told me how Albus had practically made him a prisoner in his own home, with that horrible elf Kreacher to keep him company."
"I still can't believe that. I mean, I know it happened, but poor Sirius... twelve years in Azkaban, then he had to stay in a home he hated for another," Glaring at the darkness of the ceiling, Harry tried to banish the memory of Sirius as he'd appeared, the first time they'd met. Gaunt, driven, half mad with rage and sadness.
Tonks reached out, taking Harry's hand and giving it a small squeeze. "I know. Trust me I know. I tried to get Dumbledore to let him be, to give him some freedom, but it was as if he were afraid of Sirius. I think he really expected him to try and resume being your Godfather."
"It would seem to counter his plans for me, having a Marauder loose as my mentor and guardian," the bitterness in Harry's voice reminded Tonks of Sirius, as they'd talked after her few failed attempts to gain his freedom.
"It was those times I talked to Dumbledore that really changed my mind about him, and the Order," she recounted, settling her story to the rhythm of her breathing. "We did nothing active, after the Ministry, other than set up guard shifts for you.
"Odd, isn't it? Only you. None of the others at the battle were guarded. Do you know how many of the Order have fought against one Death Eater?"
Harry shook his head silently, a chill settling in his stomach. "I'd hope most... considering what their goal is."
"Kingsley, Moody, me, Dumbledore, Lupin. Less than your DA roster that were there," a derisive laugh escaped her lips at the idea. "We were to protect you. How foolish, eh?"
"I suppose, when you look at it like that. But I've never faced battles, or fought wars. Just the odd plan and scheme of some of his loyal followers, or Voldemort himself." Yawning hugely, Harry, shook his head, "I obviously need to work on my tactics, as I was grossly outmaneuvered here, last year."
"You did well, Harry," Tonks assured him, voice soft in the quiet of the room. "Sirius was proud. You could see it in how he fought with you. You gave him something grand that night, that I know satisfied and let him go into the Veil, if not ready, then at least content.
"You showed him you could fight. That you could survive, and with that, you showed him that at the end of this war, you'd be able to finally live." Reaching over, she pulled Harry into an embrace, his quiet tears not lost to her. "You showed him that he left nothing truly undone."
His heart finally able to break, Harry collapsed into the tears he had been holding back so long. He could practically see the night play out again. How Sirius laughed! How could he not see it then, that he was happy, at last. Harry had felt it was from being couped up in the stuffy old rooms of Grimmauld, finally out and free that had set him alight so.
He'd never considered it was being with him, dueling alongside him much like his father had so long ago, that made him smile so. He'd given him that final assurance, a bittersweet gift.
"I can fight," Harry murmured to the darkness, his head half veiled in the dark blue drape of Tonks's hair. "I will fight. I will win. I won't let him down."
Tonks let her own tears fall, nodding as Harry made his vow to the darkness. "I know. I believe in you, Harry. And I'll be there with you, till this is over."
It was long minutes before the two separated, smiling and awkward from their grief and comforting of one another. "You never answered my question you know," the young wizard chided, laughing quietly. "About being Obliviated, I mean."
"Oh! Right... we got a bit sidetracked there didn't we?" Laughing, Tonks smiled and rubbed at her somewhat puffy eyes. "Well, like I'd said, I was questioning things. Finally it just became too much, I knew that eventually the help I was giving you would be found out, and then Dumbledore would dismiss me from the Order."
Shaking his head and sighing, Harry took a steadying breath, "For helping me? How does that... his logic astounds me, sometimes. I suppose I was to be sullen and torn with grief all summer, jumping at any chance he offered me to escape? That I'd grasp at any branch he offered, as long as it lead back to Hogwarts?" Sneering, he slammed his hand against the wall, the impact echoing slightly in the mostly empty room.
"So it would seem," the quiet voice of Tonks affirmed, from his side. "None of us were to speak with you, something he said was open to our discretion at the meeting I'd wager," smirking, she laughed then. "Not that I remember it, but what I do and don't recall, says enough."
Harry turned and raised a brow quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"I have to assume, as I can't recall the address or location of Grimmauld, other than that at least, that I've been stricken from the Fidelius that protects it. I took to storing my memory of specific things, each day I was on watch with you, just in case I had to act." Stifling a yawn of her own, Tonks settled back onto her pillow, continuing her story, "Monday proved to be the day. I'd left and sent a missive spell to my contact in the Unspeakables, letting them know I'd be bringing you here. I'd arranged it nearly a week ago. Turns out they were anxious to speak with you as well."
"Well, after busting up the place, I'm surprised it took them this long to come find me," his amusement evident, Harry finally laughed at his companion's snort.
Recovering from her fit of giggles, Tonks continued, "After that, it was a simple matter of stunning you, packing your things, then Apparating you out to a neutral location before activating a Portkey to here." Looking up at Harry, she seemed to waver a moment. "I'm sorry for that. I wanted to tell you, but to make it all look convincing, I had to do as I had. I'm sorry."
He looked over her logic, and found that were she to approach him, he would have left willingly. Considering Dumbledore's contacts, and the man's blind luck, there was a good chance that if they'd planned and deliberated on simply leaving, something would have gone wrong. "I understand. Don't worry about it, alright? This time, it's all just the method of getting me here. Given my options, I'd be here anyway."
Nodding, she seemed to relax and stop avoiding his gaze. "After we'd settled you and I'd scripted what I was to say and know, my contact performed a Pensieve drawing and memory charm for the meeting," smirking a bit, she recalled the precautions enacted to make this as flawless as possible. "After, I was left Obliviated in my flat. I checked the wards and figured out what was going on, then took back my stored memories and knew what had to have happened. I left and haven't planned to go back," grinning a bit at Harry's look of horror, she finally laughed. "What? You think Dumbledore will leave it with just dismissing me? He has to make sure, Harry. Soon it'll be my job, and then without an umbrella over me, my life.
"It took a lot of work, getting you out of his grasp. But at least now, you have some freedom. I can rest knowing Sirius would be happy with that."
"I don't know, Tonks," Harry said quietly, not wanting to steal from her that contentment, but his own doubts crawling forward. "Have I just traded one prison for another? Look at this place," swinging a hand out to the blackness around them, Harry sighed. "It feels like just another set of walls, caging me."
Tonks sighed, but didn't loose that look of satisfaction. "It may seem so now, but once we get settled somewhat, I know they'll open doors and let us move about more. Just remember that these are the Unspeakables, Harry. They're the most secretive and mysterious force in our world. We're working on their good graces and a promise, so I feel we owe them some patience."
Abashed, Harry nodded and sat up, "You're right. I've not even been here a day, and I'm already talking myself into a state. I'm sorry, I should just calm down and try to take things in the proper light first."
Harry stood and was about to settle back on the floor when he heard Tonks moving, a hand catching at his sleeve. "Just keep your hands to yourself, and we can both share the bed. Deal?"
Blushing furiously, Harry nodded and collected his pillow. Settling under the coverlet, he spent what felt like a day staring up at the darkness, trying not to think about the young woman less than a meter away from him.
-
-
Tonks woke feeling a deep sense of contentment, something she'd lacked since the inaugural ceremony that named her an active Auror. She was warm, and the bed was comfortable and she had no intention of getting up if there was anything she could do about it.
"Tonks?"
She snapped her eyes open and nearly Apparated in shock, jumping rather backwards from the voice a few inches from her face. Panting and half sleep-addled still, she took in the sight before her with color rising along her skin.
Harry sat, or practically sprawled, across the bed, obviously shifting from the position he'd taken to her spooning up against him in the night. His hair was more mussed than usual, and he blinked, his glasses somewhere else than along his nose. "Tonks... it's alright. It's just me."
Nervously laughing, she hugged herself and shook her head slowly, taking deep, steadying breaths. "Sorry. Just... a dream." Settling on a shower to settle her mind, Tonks collected the odd bits of clothing quickly, still shaking. She'd slept in a brief pair of shorts, and similar top, so she felt too exposed in the air, without a blanket. Snatching up her robe she dashed for the bath, only pausing once in the smaller room. Breathing deeply a few moments, she stilled her hammering heart and whirring mind. Before she started the water, she peeked back out just before closing the door.
"Ah, Harry?"
A muffled sigh and quiet "Yes?" answered her.
"We... didn't, ah. Well that is..."
Silence for a moment, before a slight nervous laugh met her ears. "No, Tonks. Just sleep. Sleep and talk."
"Right. Of course," closing the door quickly, she let loose a held breath and sank to the floor, hands over her eyes.
Staring at the ceiling, Harry wondered what had scared Tonks so, that she'd gone from the picture of quiet rest, to panic. He'd been entranced at how peaceful she'd seemed, her nose twitching slightly in her sleep as she very, very faintly snored. The sound was less the raucous grind that he was familiar with from Ron, and more akin to a purr.
He's wanted to wake the pretty Auror, as he desperately need to make his morning absolutions, but hesitated at seeing her sleep so. Losing the war, he'd tried to wake the young woman, where she lay curled up against his shoulder, only to seemingly shock and upset her. "Right bloody brilliant way to wake up," he groused, realizing with a groan that Tonks was running the shower, and he was locked out of the loo.
Harry spent the next five minutes writing a very detailed request for a second bed, and if possible, bath. The parchment seemed to fade into the table as he'd left it there, and Harry went about trying to hone his Occlumency skills, against the pressure in his abdomen.
Another ten minutes passed, and Harry was beginning to compare his plight with the Cruciatus curse when the water stopped and he felt the bittersweet hope that comes with expectation. As Tonks opened the door, she was faced with a very grim-visaged Harry, and nearly slammed the door in his face.
"Excuse me," he mumbled quietly, and Tonks moved from his way and sat on the bed, perplexed at the young man's behavior.
"Right odd morning all the way around," she observed, shaking her head as the towel soaked up the excess water from her hair.
As Harry emerged, clean from his own shower and no longer comparing his long morning to a curse, he took in the room and his companion, letting last night's conversation finally come to the fore of his thoughts. "So, you think Dumbledore will get you sacked from the Ministry?"
Tonks nodded, changing her hair color in a hand mirror slowly. "Likely. Chances are he'd either use memory charms or the same trick I did to get it done, false memories and all."
"You could fight it you know."
Smiling, she shrugged, which deepened Harry's frown, "Well, I could. But I won't. I'd rather go quietly, as he intends, rather than cause too much of a racket. Rusty nail and all."
Nodding in understanding, Harry sat heavily on the bed. "Still, all that work, for nothing."
"You mean Auror academy?" Tonks asked, settling on a mild lilac color for the day. Harry signaled his affirmative and she simply smiled. "I know I did it. You know. Important people will know. That's all I need, really."
Shuffling his feet into the oversize hand-me-down trainers, Harry had to concede to her logic. "What will you do though? I thought being an Auror was what you wanted."
Tonks sighed, shaking her head slowly. "What I wanted, was to fight You-Know-Who. Aurors were just the most accessible way to do so, I thought." Grinning at him, she poked a finger at his chest. "Also why I joined the Order, but it turns out, I had it all wrong. We did less fighting than waiting, and Fudge's Ministry would be content to let Vold... bloody... You-Know-Who! Simply buy his way to power."
"Right. Suppose I had it wrong too," Harry glumly shook his head, remembering the small goals he'd try to set for himself. He'd spoken to a few people about a career at one point, and an Auror was the best he could come up with. Tonk's experience though, told him that perhaps it wasn't such a sound idea after all.
"Enough dwelling and moping though," she cut in, pulling him from his darkening thoughts. "What shall we do with the day?"
Harry laughed, shaking his head, "How should I know? Until we get cleared for the library, I suppose we can go eat, sleep some more, and have another bath." His cynicism wasn't lost on the young woman, who simply smirked in response, earning her a glare.
Stretching and missing the small course around her flat to jog in already, Tonks motioned for the door, "Well, best to get to it then. Lets see what the hold up is and see about the rest."
The room they were quartered in was much like the others, from what he could see in the hall. The only real defining trait was a series of lines outside it, something Harry had only really recalled in any familiar sense from his Ancient Runes studies. "Tonks, do you recognize this?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. It says, 'Guest Quarters, Tonks & Potter'," she idly noted, shrugging.
Harry blinked at her for a moment before returning his attention to the seemingly random scratches. "What language is it in, then? I barely recognize it."
Turning, she traced a defined center line from the top of the vertical inscription, to the base, "See this? It's called the Trunk or Ceap, like saying 'cap'. You'll likely learn a bit of this in your Runes classes. Whenever you see something like this," Tonks traced the center line, letting her fingers spread to the small crossing lines and whorls, "remember that it's Ogham. I'll see if we can find a reference for you somewhere."
"Odd way to write something," he noted as they passed further down the hall. Regardless, he tried to denote the particular pattern to memory, if only to remember their room.
Tonks snorted and looked over her shoulder at him, "Well, it wouldn't be in your Ancient Runes class if it were modern, hm?"
The pair entered the commons, and Harry again felt out of place in this shifting world of grays. In contrast, he and Tonks stood out like flamingos in a flock of crows. "Shall we go get some food then?" his companion asked, and he nodded his agreement.
Breakfast was a similar affair to their meal yesterday, simple but filling. Harry had become rather fond of the lightly tangy, spongy bread they seemed to keep by the loaf ready to be had. To be honest, the simple quantity of food was more appealing to him than the quality or preparation, having never eaten so well over a summer as now. Tonks sat and watched Harry tuck in, shaking her head slowly. She knew the reason for his enthusiasm, but it still warmed her a bit to see his happiness.
They had just settled quietly into conversation about what to do at this point, when the familiar form of their guide seemed to glide from the crowd, bowing slightly by their table. "Forgive the intrusion, but I would like to inform you, the warding of the library is complete. You may browse it at your leisure, no sensitive texts will endanger you."
"Endanger us?" Harry looked from Tonks's shrug, back to their host. "What do you mean?"
Seemingly lost in thought briefly, the figure shook it's cloaked head slowly. "The most I can say, is that some knowledge cannot be passed idly." Settling gracefully into a chair, the figure seemed to regard them both curiously. "I was informed your lodging was unsatisfactory. Were we mistaken in your accommodation?"
It was Tonks's turn to color at this, and she stuttered a moment as Harry watched, bemused. "That is, ah. You see, we're not..."
"Ah, I understand. I shall arrange for alterations today while you are absent from the room," if Harry wasn't mistaken, he could have sworn the cloaked woman's voice carried a hint of amusement. They conversed briefly about the library, and the preparations that had been made to it for their access. As it turned out, a complex hiding charm was in place, simply allowing anyone to use the room, but the books they'd see were limited by an escalating series of permissions.
"Hogwarts could take a hint from that," Harry noted, remembering the lax security around the Restricted Section and the methods the school used to protect it's dangerous information. They walked to the opposite side of the commons than the dorms, and were soon walking down another nondescript hall. "Excuse me, and I don't want to sound rude, but are all the rooms and areas here the same style? The other rooms outside are rather normal, I was just wondering why everything was so, well, plain."
Their host paused, looking about them quietly a moment. "The Murmur's Hall, this place beyond the Locked Room, is a place of study and contemplation," as she continued down the hallway, they kept stride with her, as she explained. "There are rooms outside, as you say, but those are partially for appearance, partially for practical use. Here, we focus inward, rather than out."
"Makes sense," Tonks added, beside Harry's nod.
The library shortly opened up before them, and the trio found themselves in a storehouse of book and scroll and tablets larger than anything Harry had seen. "I thought Hogwarts was the largest magical library in Britain," he mused, walking forward into the well-lit room.
"It is," the cloaked woman countered, gesturing with a slim hand to the shelves. "Not all knowledge here is magical. Much of it is practical science and general observation, made by muggles and wizards." She turned and stood by a standing pillar of stone, that held more of the marks Harry had recently learned were the Ogham language, or alphabet. He wasn't sure of the specifics. "Here is the catalog. Simply explain what you want, and the relevant information will be made apparent."
Seemingly done with her introduction and tour, the figure made to leave but Harry held up a stilling hand, halting her. "Wait, I have a question."
As before, her posture seemed to weaken and she appeared to slink back into her cloak at Harry's attention. "Yes?"
"What is your name?" Again the question seemed to strike the woman like a physical blow, and she ducked around his hand and out the door without an answer. Harry stood confused and frustrated, running his hand through his unmanageable hair. "What is with that? All I want to know is her name."
Tonks laughed quietly, running a hand along the catalog stone. "Touchy subject, seems. Well, now we're here. What shall we look for?"
Harry stalled, and looked over the immense library with the same foreboding that usually followed the announcement of a Potions Practical. "Well..."
Snickering, the young Auror motioned for a table, picking up a few sheets of parchment and a quill along the way. She stalled a moment when she saw, on a table further in, simple composition notebooks and pens. Shrugging, she replaced her previous supplies and picked up a notebook and a pair of pens and joined Harry at a nearby table.
"Here's where you'll be glad you're stuck with me," she quipped, as Harry continued to stare about them, looking lost. "First things first... what are your goals? What should we be working toward?"
"Defeating Voldemort," Harry answered mechanically, then grimaced. "No, not that."
Tonks raised a brow, setting her pen down gently. "What do you mean, I thought that was our goal."
Looking pained a moment, Harry nodded but stayed silent for a moment."It is. Let me explain," gesturing around them, he stilled. "Like when we were shown about yesterday. They had to key us to the library, before we could enter. It's like that, there are things I have to do, first.
"Things I need to know, and it's not just spells and potions and proper wandwork." Resting his chin in a hand, Harry stared at the blank paper, deep in thought. "Have you never wondered, how Voldemort returned from the dead? How he survived as a wraith, or possessed Quirrell? How he managed to live as that horrid child-form?"
Going very still, Tonks's eyes widened slightly. "One... would think that to be a good place to start on figuring out how to defeat him. Can't say that the Order had ever mentioned it, or the forms he'd survived in, that you mentioned."
"Someone told me something a long time ago, to know your enemy, you can best defeat them... or something like that."
Tonks seemed to smile a little, before reciting, "'It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle.' It's from Sun Tzu's The Art of War. What you were thinking, was the simplified version. 'Know thy self, and know thy enemy, and you shall be victorious'." When Harry simply looked at her as if she'd suddenly started spouting fire from her mouth, she snorted. "What? I'm more than just a pretty face, Harry."
Shaking his head, the young wizard laughed quietly. "As I'm finding out, daily. Yes, that exactly. We don't know anything about Tom, what he did to become the monster he is, or how he survived the Killing Curse rebounding on him, or failing, or whatever it was." Tapping a pen he'd claimed on the sheet of paper, he started outlining his ideas.
"To get to here," he pointed, the heading 'Defeat Tom' clearly written, "we need to work on learning about him."
Tonks nodded, but added a second heading, at the bottom of the page. It read, 'Understand Harry' with a quirky little smile beside it. "Don't forget the other part of the proverb."
"Right..." sighing, he shook his head in defeat. "Why do I feel no further along than when the summer started?"
Snorting, the Auror shook with quiet laughter. "Maybe because we've been working five minutes?"
Humming, Harry tapped his chin looking contemplative. "So we have." Ducking the pen Tonks threw at him, he laughed and retrieved the make-shift projectile. "In all seriousness, lets step back a bit and look closer to now, as opposed to the end of the line."
Sitting back in her chair, Tonks ran a fingertip up and down the bridge of her nose slowly, thinking. "Right. Logical process. To defeat... Tom? Tell me later – You need to be more powerful."
"To get more powerful, I need to train," Harry replied, scratching this down below the heading.
"Training means you need access to material," tilting her head, she amended that with a shake of her head. "And to have the means. No tracking charm, or detectors."
Sighing and shaking his head, Harry scratched the last down, "Which means I either need to be at my majority and emancipated, or to somehow get a waiver from the Ministry."
"Latter isn't likely to happen anytime Fudge is in office," Tonks noted, scratching down a caricature of the Minister in his bowler, scowling at Harry's name. Despite himself, Harry laughed at this. "Hold on – where were you born, Harry?" she asked intently a moment later.
"Ah, Godric's Hollow?" He offered with a shrug. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I know the cottage my parent's were living at was there, when... when they were killed."
"Cottage? No, not that can't be right." Tonks bolted up and ran to the catalog stone, as Harry watched her with a bemused expression. She Summoned a book to hand, and came back with a set look about her face. "Look, when I was talking with Sirius, he mentioned he purchased a house back when he was seventeen, but why did he never return there?"
Harry blinked, trying to find the answer to Tonks's Riddle. "Well... perhaps the house was seized? No, they left Grimmauld be, so the other would as well."
Tonks grinned like the cat who caught the canary, as she scanned the page below her finger. "Follow with me a moment. Look here – Godric's Hollow, property exchange records." The names and listing went on almost without end till a point that caught his eye.
"Here," he pointed, the passage causing his eyes to widen. "May 1980, property exchange between the Houses Black and Potter, in recompense for damages done to Estate and holdings. Title of land shall pass to the care of Jame Potter," sitting back, Harry laughed at the description. "You know what that means?"
Wearing a smirk that would make Draco envious, Tonks nodded. "'Damages to Estate and holdings', meaning the Potter Estates are still out there are large. As well as your possible birthplace."
"Tonks, I don't understand why the sudden preoccupation with my place of birth, help me understand here." As if it were the simplest thing ever, the Auror sketched a number under Harry's name, causing him to blink. "Sixteen? Yes I will be, this year. What of it? The age of majority in England is eighteen."
"But in Scotland, it's sixteen," she said, closing the book and going to find another.
-
-
The pair spent the rest of that day looking feverishly for any records that could tell them of Harry's House standing, whether it be in England, Ireland or Scotland. He was sure the Estate had to be in Britain, so they didn't bother checking international records. When it became apparent that there would be no data of the sort they were looking for in the Unspeakable's library, they settled instead to collecting books pertaining to the Queen's law, and the magical counterpart.
"We need help," Harry finally admitted, rubbing at sore eyes behind his glasses wearily. At Tonks's startled squeak he looked about blinking, noticing he still and somewhat expectant form of their host standing by his shoulder. "Ah. Hello?"
The hooded woman nodded, looking between them slowly. "You called, Harry?"
"I did?"
She seemed to cock her head at him quizzically. "Did you not request assistance?"
Laughing quietly, he nodded and sighed, gesturing for a chair, "Have a seat, let me explain." Between the two of them, they managed to reference and explain their problem. Over the next half an hour they learned that all birth records of children born of muggle families, but suspected of wizarding blood, are duplicated and stored at the Ministry, until such a time as a blood sample can be had, usually at a doctor's appointment. A healer from St. Mungo's would often be illusioned to look like a nurse and a sample taken to the hospital proper for analysis.
Wizarding births were simpler, in that all records were kept at the Ministry Department of Magical Inheritance and Titles. Harry's eyes narrowed at the mention of that particular office and he started thinking, along lines most Slytherin.
"How are those records maintained? I mean, how can they be accessed?"
Pursing her lips, Tonks tapped her chin with her pen, "I think if one has a Ministry pass, records of non-minors are available to members above their station within House."
Harry grumbled and heaved a breath between his teeth. "Lost me there, try again."
"Sorry, I'm used to this being explained to recruits," leaning her elbows on the table, Tonks continued. "Say you were the head of House Potter, and someone of your lineage went to check your records. Because your status as Head is supreme, no one would be able to access them." Stretching, she went on, "now, say you're the fifteenth cousin of a distant aunt. Just about anyone with House blood could see it."
"Problem one – you said 'non-minors', I take it because of my status, I'm out?"
"Right in one, at least for accessing your own or any other family records," Tonks agreed, chewing her lip in thought. "Wait. This is too easy."
Brow raised, Harry looked around and ducked slightly, "Just so you know, that phrase scares me, Tonks."
"But seriously! Think about it – at least until I'm sacked, which should take at least a week to push the paperwork even for Dumbledore, I'm still an Auror. You've been missing..." Tonks called a time display with her wand and grinned widely, "At least thirty hours. Missing person's reports are valid at twenty-four."
Considering this, Harry had to shake his head. "You're overlooking one important thing. Dumbledore." Growling under his breath, Harry ran his hand through his black hair, upsetting it further. "If word got out I was missing, can you imagine what he'd lose?"
Banging her hand on the table, Tonks nodded. "Right. He'd be covering it up. And if I did enter the missing wizards report, it'd become obvious I'd cheated his memory charm. Damnit!"
The quiet voice of their host, nearly forgotten pulled them both back to the moment, "Excuse me, but this really isn't that difficult."
His eyes narrowed, Harry looked to Tonks, who shrugged. "What do you mean?"
"We are Unspeakables. We were never there, and you did not see us." Rising, she simply passed beyond the hallway, to the bemusement of the two who sat watching with wide eyes.
"Do you think?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid to."
An hour passed as they researched the law involving majority cases and emancipation, where it had become apparent that the key to all their work would be the information their host hinted at being able to acquire. They'd come upon some loopholes that dealt nicely with their current problem, but as it seemed, everything hung in the crux of that one file.
Tonks had laid her head on her arms, and was snoring that almost imperceptible purr when Harry caught motion at the edge of his vision. The slight woman had returned, and in her hand was a small flat file.
"Harry, I believe this would be of some assistance," she said simply, the folder expanding to normal size as it lay on the table.
Tonks snorted and woke at her words, blinking blearily at the figure and the papers, before coming fully awake. "That the one?" Yawning, she stretched as Harry inspected the files.
"I'm not sure – Why is everything here blank?"
The young woman sat and shook her head slowly, gesturing at the documents. "All record of your birth, beyond the date and parentage, were erased. No existing copy can be found, or was present in the Ministry office. It as if some great magic works to keep this information hidden."
Laying his head in his hands, Harry let loose a sigh. "That was our one shot. Now we have to start over, from a different angle."
Reaching out the form, their host turned it in a hand slowly for a few moments. "Why not simply fill in the blanks?" Harry and Tonks looked at each for a moment, then began laughing. Their host looked from one to another and shook her head slowly, "I did not think that was amusing," she murmured, with a sigh.
-
-
"You know, Harry, it'd be easier just to find some place believable and fill it in as she said," Tonks pointed out, the second day of their research nearly done.
Harry shrugged, but kept up his searches, giving the cloaked woman tasks to retrieve records of land and title passing almost every day to research. "I know, but it'd rather it be truth, than a lie, if I could help it. Besides," grinning, he rolled his neck, working out the kinks. "Wouldn't you want to know?"
Conceding the point, Tonks nodded, "Suppose so." A few more minutes stretched between them, and she found herself staring not at the books, but at the young man across from her, diligently reading. "Bet you wish Hermione were here helping you."
"No, she'd get sidetracked and find some odd loophole involving ritualistic scarring and a mandate from some forgotten King." Chuckling, Harry smiled and shook his head slowly, "No, she and Ron need this summer. Besides, it's not like you're bad company or not helping, Tonks."
Shrugging off his acknowledgment, she focused on the other thing he'd pointed out, "She and Ron? Are they an item now?"
"I think so, hold on – there," Harry scratched down a note, in the page she'd found out was a listing of possible fake birthplaces. As it turned out, Harry wasn't just looking up his actual family Estates, but also possible false ones as well. "She mentioned wanting things between them to get closer in a letter, and I wrote back hoping them the best, this summer."
Mulling this over, Tonks had to admit, the 'Golden Trio' was in for a bumpy year, if things continued as they were. "It doesn't bother you?"
Harry looked up in surprise at this, and regarded Tonks for long moments. "No, not at all. Contrary to the Prophet, I was never romantically involved with 'Mione. She's just one of my best mates."
Nodding, but realizing Harry hadn't gotten her real point, Tonks nevertheless dropped the topic. "Any luck finding the record you need?"
"Nothing yet. I need something that would just tell me who owns what and where. Isn't there a record somewhere of that?"
Shrugging, Tonks yawned and stretched her back, "Gringott's has the most exten...sive... oh. Why wasn't I thinking!
"Bill sent you your key! He knew something like this was up, or something involving your inheritance! Damn my foolish mind, we wasted two days on this!" Fuming, Tonks slammed her notebook closed and stalked away from Harry, as he sat stunned and silent at the table.
Rising he closed the distance and stopped an arm's length from the irate Auror. "Tonks, listen. We're not investigators, alright?" She shook her head hard and snorted, waving at her robes, the ones she'd taken to wearing that proclaimed her an Auror. "Still, we can't always see every answer to a Riddle plainly. Sometimes it's too easy to expect the hard answers."
Nodding, she turned back to him and gave him a half-hearted smile. "Still, should have remembered."
"Well, I'd forget – and do! since I don't go there more than once a year. How often do you visit your vault?" he asked, but blinked when Tonks laughed. "What?"
"Harry, not every wizard has a vault," Tonks motioned back to their table, away from the racks upon racks of scrolls she was standing by and they retreated back to their study area. "Most just keep their money on hand, or manage a simple tally with the Goblins."
Puzzling over her words, Harry queried her on a point, "Tally? What do you mean?"
Shrugging and looking a bit uncomfortable, Tonks explained. "Wizarding money is a complex thing. In most ways, it's fairly hard to do the math, when you have to manage the conversion from Galleons and Sickles to Knuts, then turn around and make it into Pounds, things just get too much for most of us to deal with." Tonks pulled out her wand, and with a small word and a number, produced a small stamp. "This is an Vault Stamp, but the name is a bit misleading. Originally they were only issued to Vault holders, but the convenience was too great," she vanished the stamp and continued. "When you're given a bill, or a due notice, if it's written in Permissory Ink that's been enchanted by the Goblins, this stamp and that note will automatically move monies between holders."
Harry's eyebrows rose at this. "I had no idea, that's rather efficient. I wonder why I never got one."
Smirking a bit, Tonks settled back by her notebook, "Can only have one if you're at majority."
"Oh, that again," Harry groused, shaking his head. "But it's a Vault Stamp. So you don't have a vault?"
"No Harry, just a tally of my moneys, kept in the larger Gringott's banking fund. There's no specific nook for my income – likely it'd be a waste of a cavern."
The information left Harry feeling the gap between him and the average wizard again, and it put him in a dark mood. "Well, supposing we could find out from Gringott's, when do you think we could be loosed from this place to do so?"
His wording wasn't missed on Tonks, whose lips tightened into a line. "Not sure. We have at least a week to get this done, so don't work yourself up over it yet. Lets ask when we have a chance?"
"I'm not working myself up," Harry sniped, looking around at the blank, empty walls and the thousands of books and scrolls with a baleful glare. "I just hate these walls, feeling like I've traded one prison for another. I want to be doing something, Tonks! Not sitting here, crawling around in Riddles and puzzles. I'm a fighter, not a scholar. I learn by doing, by being in the thick of things, not from pictures and passages of moldy text."
Shaking her head slowly, Tonks stood and started walking back toward the commons. As she stepped beside Harry, she didn't look at him, but spoke regardless, "Then perhaps you should think on this. What will you do when the fighting is over? Who will you fight, when Vold... When He is no more?" She continued to the hall as Harry spun about, readying a retort, "What will you be when the fighting is over, Harry?"
The scathing retort died on his lips, and Harry looked at his hands, imagining them thick with the blood of his enemies, the war done. A war he didn't start, but did finish. Tonks's words echoed in his head and he shuddered, realizing he'd barely considered that very thing.
They'd talked of Aurors and the Ministry, and that had left a foul taste in his mouth, so much so that he had stricken it from his possible future. He'd not bend to a corrupt Minister, as a student, or an employee. Harry had no doubts the next one would be no better than Fudge.
Quidditch, sure. It had it's appeal, but what after? What of him? Harry had deluded himself for a long time, riding the accolade of his Housemates and Professors. He could play Quidditch, that was true, but who was ever simply the sport they played? The daily rags he'd spied were rife with once-famous stars, heroes of this sport or that. Most were now as tarnished as the trophies, likely sold off to keep food on their tables.
He could play the sport, but would it be Harry Potter, the Seeker that was there, or the Man-Who-Triumphed? How easy would it be for the wizarding world to make a war hero a sports one? Disgusted, Harry took his notes and made his way to the commons, feeling slightly sick somewhere deep in his soul.
-
-
The end of the week loomed on the pair, as they prepared for another day of study and research. After the small argument in the library, the conversation had stayed rigidly to topic, with barely a word outside of their puzzling being spoken.
Harry had found at least three dozen references to the Potter Estate, but nothing that would pinpoint it's location. He was hopeful still, that the property would allow him the leeway he needed to take the next steps to being able to realize his goals. It was during their usual stint of research that he remembered Sirius's puzzle. "Tonks, how does the Ministry track spells, like you'd mentioned when explaining about being Obliviated?"
She looked up at him and seemed lost in thought a moment, before replying. "Signatures. When a wand is made, it's signature is taken, then when it's first used, the signature charm identifies the wizard, and the two are recorded in the DMLE, Improper Use of Magic Office."
Considering this, Harry rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, "So, even if I'm granted an emancipation, someone on the inside could still track me by that."
"If they managed to get a spy in that far," shrugging, she sighed and nodded. "Yeah. It's possible."
Going silent, the young wizard simply closed the book he'd been working on, and returned it to the shelf. Standing by the catalog stone, he thought about the Riddle, and the pieces of the puzzle he'd worked out.
First, he was rather sure that inside, there was a wand. That was made apparent from the first verse. The why of Sirius sending him a wand was becoming clearer, and each day he longed to open the box and start his training. He thought, perhaps the Hall he and Tonks were staying in was proof against the tracking charms, but this proved false, he was assured.
The second verse spoke of the mastery of wands, and supposedly some skill that had nothing to do with them. This confused Harry, and his one attempt to open the box with physical means resulted in him having to hide the badly slagged and scorched remains of a hammer. He understood well enough the principal behind a wand being 'mistuned' to a wizard, and how losing a magical duel could cause it.
It was at the third verse that his understanding broke down. The first line was simple enough – if the box did truly contain a wand, then it spoke of it's impossibility to be opened with one, while the second assured him that he was correct in it's contents. It was the last two cryptic lines that utterly lost Harry. "My magic doesn't sing," he murmured to the back of his hand, thinking on what to attempt researching first.
Rolling his eyes, he attempted a lark, "Singing magic," he told the stone, as three books immediately shone on the shelves. He stepped to each, investigating their contents. The first was on the principals of Banshee song, which was no use to Harry. The second was a biography of Celestina Warbeck, the recording artist. "Well, maybe Tonks would like this," he mused, tucking it under an arm.
On a disused shelf, nearly too high to reach without the ladder, Harry found the third and final book, which was printed almost entirely in runic letters and utterly incomprehensible to him. "Lovely, just what I needed." Regardless, he pulled the book and returned to the table, setting the biography by Tonks. She gave it a cursory glance and giggled, shaking her head.
"Can you make any sense of this?" Harry asked, showing her the last book. Squinting, she tilted her head from one side to another, but finally shook it slowly.
"It's in Futhark, Germanic runescript. That's the alphabet used anyway, the language is beyond me," she noted, but quirked up the corner of her lip. "Help please."
A moment later, the same slim, cloaked woman seemed to glide down the hallway toward them, looking from one to the other expectantly. "Is there something you need assistance with?"
Harry raised a brow and sighed, deciding to let the woman's odd behavior be. Tonks smirked a bit, but held up the book, "Is there some way we can translate this, or find someone who knows the language?"
She took the book and turned the spine to inspect, running a finger along it slowly. "We have charms within the library to assist in such, forgive me for not mentioning it sooner. I was unaware many books would be unscryable by normal methods."
Tonks had the sense to not look abashed for forgetting such a simple spell. "Ah, of course. Harry can't perform magic yet so..."
"Of course," the hooded woman said, a slight hint of humor to her voice. "This should make it readable," slipping the book back into Tonks's hands, she stepped back, blending in with the walls and shadows.
Blinking at the now revealed title, Tonks gasped, her memory suddenly going back to her failed yet informative research project, the weekend before they'd sought asylum. "It's the book, Harry."
Rising, the young man stood behind her, seeing the words shift from runic, to simply foreign, a name he remembered, to simple English. "Wandless Magic; Theory and Practice," he murmured, a smile cracking his somber mood like a hammer. "This is the one that I needed!"
"When you set me to research it, I found out it was banned by the Council in the 1200's, as being a danger to the wizarding community," Tonks recalled, running her fingers along the worn green cover slowly, reverently. "There was a schism among wizards then, on whether the book should be outlawed outright, or simply ignored. They chose instead to destroy all copies and those that adhered to it's ideals."
Harry gently took the book from her hands and grinned, feeling a laugh bubbling up inside him, "No wonder, if any had the Sight, they'd see how dangerous it could be. Think how hard the Ministry's job would be if everyone could do this, Tonks."
They stared at one another for a moment before clearing off the table and poring over the first few pages eagerly, as if they were first years again and had just gotten their first textbook.
-
-
It was with great reluctance that Harry pulled himself from the book on the table, his eyes having long since gone a rheumy red. He rubbed at them, and stared with watery vision at the lone candle adorning the table. Everything he read had made perfect sense, even the use of accidental magic by young wizards in time of duress or stress.
The book outlined the basics of Apparation, as well as the peculiarity of Metamorphs and Animagi, and how each were a peculiarity of one's magical core. In essence, 'magical genetics' and the randomness of chance were factors, but not the full reasoning. As Harry understood it, Tonks's statement some time ago that Metamorphmagi weren't made, but born seemed rather apt. Apparently the same could be say about Animagi, and Harry had pored over that section as if were water and he dying of thirst.
It outlined the process and dangers, particularly to one not fully into the maturation of their magical core. He didn't see anything more on that, but the described flow of magic, the process of visualization and assumption, as well as a potion and ritual were of particular note. He marked the page with a small strip of paper, a habit he'd taken to over his summer, unable to even do the copying charm.
Most of his time had been spent on the theory behind wandless magic. He dove into the text and it was hours later, Tonks having spoken an unheard farewell some time ago, that he resurfaced. Smiling with the glee of a small child, he closed his eyes and focused, sensing for his magic.
Nothing responded, but Harry pressed on none the less, feeling suffocated in the darkness. He pulled upon his Occlumency, and the feeling of vertigo stilled, yet the oppressive darkness remained. It felt to Harry as if he were struggling through muddy waters, and he nearly gave up in frustration. Stilling himself, he instead focused inward, listening to his heart, the slow wind of his breath.
There
A pulse reached him, enclosed him. Harry struggled to maintain his calm, as he felt for that pulse again, trying to open his awareness broader, senses stretching-
Blindness
He kept his senses open, despite the pain of his inner eye being overwhelmed. Harry realized a startling thing, then. His magic wasn't weak, or faint as he'd assumed from speaking briefly of such with Tonks.
It simply didn't all reside within him. It diffused, a cloud about him. A small portion of him filed this idea away, for later as the bulk of his focus went to figuring out what to do with the cloud and whorl of his magic.
Harry could think of nothing profound. No spell or charm or great truth. So he sighed.
And breathed in his own magic.
It settled in his lungs, and spread up and out along his ribs, clinging like a vine. The feeling was difficult, awkward. He wanted to cough, to sneeze or both, but instead he breathed, great leaping gasps of air. The magic crawled through his blood, spreading, setting out and shoving at things as space grew too small and crowded for it.
It seeped between bone and skin along his fingers, and wrapped along, under and between his muscles. Roots lay in his spine, and trunks twined along his legs, tangling in his femur and the great muscles of his leg.
Harry stifled his panic as his breathing went short and rapid, the cloud about him growing dim, as he felt filled up, from toe to tangle of hair with his magic. His chest seemed to be too full, and his heart struggled with the effort to keep the ocean of his blood moving, flowing. Magic unfurled inside him with a sound like great branches and leaves shivering in a stiff wind.
Branches of that great tree wrapped around him, making room for themselves between his organs, wrapping around bones, and muscle. His brain felt compacted, stifled and brief. The pressure was killing him, pushing him out of himself-
Like a tide it receded slightly, giving him a moment to gather himself. He felt it, crawling, unrolling delicate leaves along his skin, for the sun. He could sense it settling it's great roots into his heart, his spine and along his center. The cloud, a simpler thing now still rested along his vision, but he breathed it in and out, and felt it the pollen of his own great tree. It sustained his continuation, and he replenished it, with each breath. He felt the weight, bulk as it settled along his bones like a harness, supporting him, itself. It braced and depended on him, and he for once, felt his magic.
It was a great, dark tree, turned by the harsh winds of his life, but standing strong and resolute regardless.
Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The candle, newly lit on his table had burned down to nearly a nub, while the books and table near him seemed to shimmer with a slight incandescent dust. He felt a presence, familiar to his side and turned his head, finding the same cloaked woman who had attended them since their arrival.
"Did you find what you were looking for, Harry?" she asked simply, voice cast low despite how empty the library was.
Smiling, Harry breathed in again, and felt great branches shift and settle with a pleasant creaking. "I found the first steps," he replied, earning him a chuckle from his host.
"Then, let us proceed to the next ones," she offered, leaning forward to extinguish the spent candle.
A moment later, Harry's voice rang out clearly, if quietly along the full, dusty shelves. Light pulled out his features, the slight smile and twinkle in his eye, and his empty hands.
"Lumos."