Chapter 7: The Apprentice
The eighth year common room was quiet when they pushed open the door Monday evening. Draco and Neville were sitting across from each other at one of the study tables, and Seamus, Ernie and Hannah were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa around the low table with their Transfiguration textbooks open.
"Harry! Ron!"
Neville stood up as Ron and Harry walked over to the table laden with armfuls of books. He reached out and grabbed Ron's as the stack teetered.
"Thanks, Nev." Ron collapsed in the chair beside Draco as Harry took the chair across from him. Seamus abandoned his transfiguration study group and pulled up a chair at the end of the table.
"I saw it all. We were standing outside of Honeydukes," began Seamus without prelude. "It was like the ground just opened up and sucked you right in. Ron, you look awful."
"Well you're talking pretty loud to a guy who just spent two days in bed with a concussion," grumbled Ron.
Seamus grinned. "Sorry, mate," he apologized, his voice much lower now. "Rotten luck, eh? You standing there when it collapsed? We all ran over but about Professor Sprout was out of Honeydukes so fast she practically bowled us over. I've never seen her move so fast!"
"We saw it too," said Ernie.
"Saw it? You and Malfoy almost fell in!" exclaimed Hannah.
Harry looked over at Malfoy in surprise. Malfoy didn't look up from the essay he was writing.
"Are you all right?" He directed the question at Ernie, who shrugged.
"Fine, I suppose. Knocked us down and all, but we didn't go in, did we? Malfoy hurt his ankle but Madam Pomfrey got him all sorted out."
"Frightened us all half to death," said Hannah. "We thought all this was over, didn't we?"
"It could have been a fluke, couldn't it have?" asked Seamus.
Harry was surprised when Malfoy raised his head and stared at Seamus.
"A fluke?" This time it was Ernie. "Haven't you been reading the Prophet, Finnigan?"
"You can't believe the Daily Prophet." It was the first thing Malfoy had said, and all eyes turned to him.
"No, you can't, can you?" said Harry. He frowned as Malfoy went back to his essay. "Did the Aurors talk to everyone here?"
"All together than private interviews—one at a time," answered Neville.
Malfoy wasn't writing anymore. Harry watched him fiddle with his quill and pretend to reread his essay.
"They wanted to know about you and Snape," said Neville. "Wanted to know if we knew of anyone that was upset about your relationship."
Draco stopped fiddling with his quill.
"Relationship?" Ron said. He was holding his head.
"You should go lie down, Ron," said Harry. "You're looking a little green."
"You should be the one looking green, Harry. The aurors are making it sound like…like…"
"I don't think so, Ron," said Harry, smiling. "No one thinks my relationship with Severus is anything but what it is."
"None of us do," said Ernie, almost too quickly. "But who knows what other people are saying."
"Ernie!" Hannah looked at him sternly. "Harry, don't listen to them. The Aurors didn't ask us anything about your relationship. But from the questions they asked, it seemed obvious they think you were the target."
Malfoy looked up then, catching Harry staring at him.
"Not everyone was happy about how the war turned out," said Harry dismissively. "I'll just have to watch my back."
"You won't have to watch it by yourself," said Ron. "We'll be there with you."
"And there'll be Aurors in the castle, too," said Seamus. "McGonagall came in last night to tell us they'll be stationed here indefinitely. Warned us to be polite and cooperative."
Aurors in the castle. That was good, Harry thought. If someone was after Severus, there'd be extra eyes watching out for him too.
/
Tuesday after classes, Harry headed directly for Severus' quarters. He'd had the longest of long days, trying to both keep up and catch up after missing all his classes the day before when he'd been in the infirmary. Hermione had loaned him her Transfiguration notes, and had taught him the wand movements to the shifting spell they'd learned on Monday.
"You'd think it would be easier than an overall transfiguration but it's not," she'd explained as she'd effortlessly changed the ceramic sugar bowl on the lunch table into a silver one. Harry lifted off the lid—the sugar was still inside.
"Try it on a pair of socks tonight," she suggested. "Cotton to wool, maybe."
He thought about that as he let himself into Severus' quarters, about practicing on Severus' socks tonight, and grinned. Severus was really particular about his socks.
"Severus?"
No one seemed to be there. He stuck his head into Severus' bedroom, rapped on the door of the loo then wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat before settling on the sofa and sorting out his books on the tea table. Severus had left a stack of documents on the table and he pushed them aside to make room for his books and homework supplies. He glanced down at the top document. A sentence jumped out at him. "…memory was modified."
His eyes traveled to the top of the document. It was printed on Ministry letterhead—the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—and marked with today's date and the word 'Draft' in red letters. He glanced around the room out of reflex but there was nothing for it—he had to read the report. He wasn't even too concerned about the repercussions of being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.
He had read only the first few sentences when the door opened and Severus came in. Harry didn't even try to drop the report and pretend like he hadn't even seen it.
"I left that there so we could discuss it together," said Severus. He was unbuttoning his robes as he made his way past Harry and down the short corridor to his bedroom.
"Oh—thanks. Good. Hello to you, too, Severus."
Severus appeared a few minutes later in trousers and shirt sleeves. He made his way directly into the kitchen and a few minutes later placed a tea tray in the space Harry had cleared for it.
"So, what do you make of the report?" Severus asked as he poured the tea.
"None of it makes sense," said Harry immediately. "Emerald thinks she was gone thirty minutes, her friends say more than an hour, and they've found evidence that her memory was altered sometime between getting the letter and giving it to me. Someone didn't want me to get the letter on time—but they still wanted me to get the letter." He paused, looking at Severus for answers. "I don't understand. Like I said—it doesn't make sense. Wouldn't it have been easier to just take the letter from her so that I never got it at all?"
"You are assuming, I think, that the person who gave Emerald the letter was not the person who subsequently modified her memory?"
"Of course…." Harry stopped, staring at Severus. Severus took a drink of tea and reached for a biscuit. Harry shook his head and sighed. "I'm not ready to be an Auror yet, am I?"
"The Auror Academy is a three-year course, Harry. You work your way up after that. This is only Peace's second year as a criminal investigator. You will be assigned any number of small, thankless jobs before you are asked to lead a case such as this one."
"Are you trying to talk me out of the Auror Academy?" asked Harry.
"Not at all. In fact, I've asked Auror Peace to spend some time with you, answer any questions you have about the Academy and a career with the MLE."
"You are trying to," said Harry, rolling his eyes.
"What? Are you afraid it might not be as exciting as you'd thought?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow.
"No, I'm afraid you've given Peace an incentive to make it seem like that," said Harry.
"Come—let's discuss this report." Severus let the accusation slide. "The Aurors believe we are dealing with a very clever person, and a very dangerous one. There is no proof, is there, that the woman who handed the letter to Emerald is, indeed, your Miss Smith."
"But the handwriting…." He stopped again. "Right. She could have written the letter and given it to just about anyone to bring it to Hogsmeade."
"Some very intelligent, very clever, and very…ill…individuals complicate things needlessly," said Severus. "Fortunately, we have an excellent team of Aurors, headed by the Minister himself, on our side."
"Maybe…maybe she only wanted it to seem like she had warned me," suggested Harry. He was trying hard to sort through all the details and possibilities in his head. "So I had to get the letter—only too late, right? Because she needed time to get the trap set up." He frowned, then looked up at Severus again. "But what if I hadn't gone that way?"
"Ah. What if you hadn't?"
"I don't know—maybe she would have waited for another chance?"
"If you were the intended victim, Harry, she—or he—would have done more to make sure that you were in front of Honeydukes when the trap was ready to spring. Had you read the letter when you received it, you might have headed back to Hogwarts and been nowhere close to Honeydukes."
"It still doesn't make any sense," said Harry, frustrated at his inability to understand what was going on.
"No, it doesn't," admitted Severus. "And that is why we have a contingent of Aurors at Hogwarts. But humor me, for a moment, use that brain of yours." He smiled, rather fondly, and Harry smiled back.
"I've told you I'm not the one with the brain in my group," said Harry.
"And I've told you that your brain is just as capable as Miss Granger's. Think, Harry. Your letter writer—Hilda Smith—seems to hold no grudge against you, and seems to be trying to plant seeds of doubt in your mind regarding me. She either planned and perpetuated this attack or had foreknowledge of it. In either scenario, she is heavily involved in an act of sabotage that injured several students. There is also the matter of the dead man. If she is truly trying to protect you, and sent that letter to warn you off, someone else then waylaid Miss Williams yet still allowed her to deliver her letter to you. Without that delay, the plot would make more sense. With it, the Aurors are scrambling to determine motive, opportunity, the entire game."
"It's confusing. I'd need to write it all down to make any sense of it at all," said Harry.
"Auror Peace has volunteered to show you how the Aurors do just that," said Severus. He looked pleased—more pleased than Harry thought he should be given that he had already told Harry to let the Aurors handle this case.
"And you're going to let him?" asked Harry suspiciously. "Just two days ago you told me to let the Aurors handle this case. What happened?"
"Auror Peace happened," said Severus. "I've had some…enlightening…conversations with him. He has a good head on his shoulders and will be an excellent mentor for you."
In Harry's short life, he'd learned that things that sounded too good to be true generally were. He took a long drink of tea then set his mug on the table and took a deep breath.
"Be straight with me, Severus. What's this about? This doesn't sound at all like you—you're practically asking me to stick my nose into this investigation instead of locking me up in the dungeons until they figure it out."
Severus put his own mug down on the table. "You are growing up too fast, Harry," he said. "And there is nothing I can do to stop it." He sounded resigned, and proud, and perhaps a bit angry. "So, at the advice of Kingsley, and seconded by Albus who could not help but add his voice to the discussion despite being confined to a portrait, I have decided to let you apprentice to Auror Peace during this investigation. Wait…" He held up his hand, obviously to get his piece in before Harry got up and hugged him. "There are a number of caveats—restrictions—all of them for your safety and my peace of mind. You will agree to all of them or we will go no further with this."
Harry didn't even try to hide his grin and Severus shook his head.
"I still wonder if this is wise."
"Of course it's wise. Kingsley and Dumbledore couldn't both be wrong, could they?"
Severus gave a small snort. "Are you ready for the conditions?"
"Sure. Go on."
"You are not to leave the grounds of Hogwarts for any reason at any time with any person—ever."
"Ever?"
"During this investigation. No trips to Diagon Alley or to the Burrow or to Hogsmeade or to any of the myriad of places you might think about going. Shell Cottage. Andromeda's house to visit your godson. London—on your broom, on a thestral, on the back of a dragon. No Apparating anywhere. No Flooing anywhere. No walking anywhere, no…."
"Fine. I get it. I stay here until the case is solved."
"I need your promise, Harry."
Harry sighed. "I promise not to leave the grounds of Hogwarts during this investigation. Anything else?"
"Auror Peace has agreed to take you under his wing as an apprentice. Note the word 'you.' He had not agreed to act as mentor for Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood or any other person. He is responsible for you, and you alone. If we go forward with this arrangement, you must agree not to involve any other student in any way with the investigation or share any details with them. Agreed?"
"Severus…." He knew this would be nearly impossible. He spent all his free time with his friends. And they were a team—they worked on these things together, didn't they?
"Agreed?"
"Can they at least know about it?"
"That you are apprenticing with Auror Peace? Yes. Your closest friends only, though, and they must be instructed not to share the information with anyone else. Harry, it is costing me quite a bit to go down this road with you. If you do not feel that you can live with these terms…."
"No. I can do it. As long as they can know about it."
"Your promise, then."
Harry almost rolled his eyes. He stopped himself just in time. "I promise not to discuss anything about the investigation with any students, including my best friends."
"And your girlfriend."
"She's one of my best friends too. She's covered already."
Severus gave a tight smile. "One more thing, then. I retain the right to end the apprenticeship at any time if I feel that it is endangering you—wait—or if your grades suffer. I am looking for Es and Os, Harry. Es and Os. Understood?"
Harry swallowed. It was a fair request—well, demand—really, but not one he had expected. He'd have to buckle down and study more to make sure he didn't slip in any of his classes.
He nodded. "Understood, Dad."
Severus shook his head, exasperated and amused. "You always do that when I don't expect it," he said.
"I do it when you go all Dad on me," said Harry with a grin. "It just comes out automatically."
Severus stood up. "I should order supper for us. What would you like tonight?"
Harry stood as well and before Severus could react, stepped forward and enveloped his father in a hug.
"Thank you," he said, his words muffled as her buried his head in Severus' shoulder. "I know how hard this is for you."
Severus' arms tightened around Harry then he released him, moving his hands to Harry's shoulders and gazing at him from an arm's length away.
"Now, why don't you tell me why you've been grilling Poppy about the Magical Registry?"
He laughed as Harry's face took on a gobsmacked look. "Adults talk, Harry. Come, let's decide on dinner then I shall fill you in on the secrets of The Book."
/
"It's kept in a warded room behind McGonagall's office." Harry was talking around a mouthful of pancakes. Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look.
"You sound like Ron," said Ginny. "Do I need to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"
"Sorry." Harry swallowed then wiped his mouth. "All right, then. If we want to get a look at the book, we'll need to work on Minerva. I've got an idea on that already. I'm going to tell her I'm worried that Teddy's not magical and ask if I can see the book to check."
Hermione shook her head. "Harry. She's not going to go for that."
"Why not?" asked Ron. "I mean, it's possible, isn't it? Wizards sometimes have squibs."
"Teddy's a metamorphmagus," Hermione reminded them. "Do you know of any squib metamorphmagi?"
"I don't know any metamorphmaguses besides Teddy," Ron shot back.
"Metamorphmagi," corrected Hermione. Ginny grinned and mouthed the word at Harry behind Hermione's back.
"You're right," said Harry. "Bad idea. Hmm. Well, I could tell her that Hermione is pregnant and...ouch!"
"You're in a pretty good mood for someone that just spent three days in the hospital wing," said Ginny.
"Perhaps his ear mites have been cured," suggested Luna, who had joined them for breakfast at the Gryffindor table.
"Ear mites?" Hermione was looking at Luna as if wrackspurts were flying into her ears.
"Magical ear mites, of course," said Luna distractedly. She took another bite of her oatmeal. "I suspect the Skele-gro turned them to stone."
"Probably," said Harry, smiling at Luna. She smiled back and went back to her oatmeal. She was definitely not a morning person.
"You aren't pregnant, are you, Hermione?" asked Luna a moment later, looking up from her oatmeal and staring across at Hermione.
"No!" hissed Hermione, glaring at Harry. "This is how rumors get started, Harry."
"I wouldn't mind being an aunt," said Ginny. "Or a mum. I love babies." She smiled but when she looked up, everyone was looking at her in alarm. "What? I meant some day. You know, after my Quidditch career. Sheesh."
"So, any other ideas on getting a look at the Magical Registry?" asked Ron. He was obviously trying to steer the conversation away from pregnant girlfriends and sisters.
"Why don't you just ask to see your birth record?" asked Hermione.
Harry stared at her. "Has anyone ever told you that you're brilliant?" he asked.
"People tell her she's brilliant all the time, Harry," answered Luna. She turned her spoon upside down, stuck it in her oatmeal, and lifted it out again. The oatmeal rolled off the spoon back into the bowl. "Do you think the ear mites chewed through your eardrums into your brain?"
"Magical ear mites," said Ginny, stepping on Harry's foot under the table.
Harry had already told Hermione, Ron and Ginny about the apprenticeship with Auror Peace. They were going to meet tomorrow after classes to get started.
"Owl post," said Luna a moment before the first owl flew into the hall and began circling.
"Let's see what drivel the Prophet has this morning," said Hermione. Harry wondered if the stress of commuting was starting to work on Hermione, or if perhaps the stress was coming from life at home trying to help her parents get their lives sorted out. She spoke very little about it, but Harry thought privately that she'd bitten off a bit more than she could chew this time around.
The Prophet, it seemed, had quite a bit of drivel.
"It's all about Alex Sanders," said Harry, leaning in to get a look at the paper.
"And about you, too," said Luna. She and Hermione were the only two that took the Prophet, and she turned her copy around so Harry could see it from across the table. "Harry Potter: Too Young to be a Daddy?" screamed out from the paper in two inch letters.
"What?" Ginny reached over and grabbed the paper from Luna.
Harry and Ginny were scrabbling over the paper, and Harry finally got it smoothed out enough to read it.
"Cradling my stomach? Of course I was cradling my stomach when they pulled me out of there! I felt like I was going to puke!"
"Seems you were also seen shopping for baby toys," said Hermione.
"I picked up a couple things for Teddy! This—this is ridiculous!" Harry sputtered.
"And I have not been gaining weight!" Ginny was almost shouting now.
"Yes you have," said Luna. "You've probably gained a stone since last spring."
Everyone turned to stare at her but she seemed nonplussed. "You were horribly thin, Ginny. You weren't eating enough at all, worrying about Harry and Ron and Hermione, trying to stay out of the Carrows' way." She smiled brightly. "You look much better now. Much healthier."
"No one really thinks you're pregnant, Ginny," assured Hermione. "No one believes anything in the Prophet anymore.
"Mum does! Oh Merlin help me. Mum's going to kill us."
"Us?" Harry dropped the paper. "She's not going to think…?"
"She believed that bit in fourth year about you and Hermoine, didn't she?" asked Ron.
"Come with me, Potter, Miss Weasley."
Professor McGonagall stopped behind them.
"This isn't true," said Ginny at once. She looked pale.
"It's not," said Harry. "They can't do this—make up these lies and publish them."
Minerva sighed. "Get your books and come with me," she said quietly. "Severus will meet us up there."
When Harry stood, he felt the eyes of the entire school on him.
Just like old times, he thought, and he followed Minerva out of the hall, holding Ginny's hand tightly in his own.
/
"She says the Prophet didn't actually claim Ginny and I were having an actual baby, so it isn't libel," Harry said. He was sitting on the floor, panting. He'd been put through the paces by Auror Peace—whose name, it turned out, was Reuben—and had just finished his second set of fifty sit-ups. The Auror had decided that Harry's leg wasn't yet up to jogging, so he'd had him doing push-ups and sit-ups instead. Harry hadn't been paying a lot of attention to physical fitness of late and he hoped Peace had made his point already and they could get on with things—things that didn't involve proving to Harry how in shape one had to be to be an Auror.
"She's right," said the Auror. "Insinuating that someone may be pregnant is not the same as stating that someone is. It's rotten, but not illegal. What do you plan to do about it?" He was sitting cross-legged on top of the teacher's desk in the unused classroom the Aurors had taken over as their "war room."
"Nothing," sighed Harry, making it obvious that doing nothing was not his preference. "It will be obvious soon that she's not pregnant."
"Ah. Wise choice. So, what would you do it you got to decide?" He pointed over to the wall. "How about a hundred wall pushes to finish up?"
"Wall pushes?"
"Like a push-up, but done against the wall. Helluva lot easier than a regular push-up. Kind of a cool down exercise. You can talk as you go." He hopped off the desk and walked over to the wall and demonstrated for Harry.
Harry shrugged and struggled to his feet. He got in position as Pease retook his seat on the desk.
"I agreed with Severus and Minerva in the end," he said. "And of course the Weasleys weighed in too. Everyone thought it was best to just ignore the Prophet. You are counting, aren't you? I can't talk and count at the same time."
Peace laughed. "Just keep on. I'll tell you when you're done."
"Of course, we got lectures all the way around," said Harry. "The eyes of the Wizarding world are on you and all that rot."
"Is it rot?" asked Peace.
"Do you have kids?" asked Harry. "Because you sure sound like you do."
"One," answered Peace. "Baby boy. Named him Harry after you. Don't stop now—you're only halfway through."
Harry had stopped and was staring at Peace. "You didn't."
"We did. He was born on your birthday this summer. Thought it only fitting."
Harry had gone back to his wall pushes. He was dumbfounded. He didn't know what to think. He stared at the wall and kept going.
"He looks more like your Severus than you, though. He's got straight dark hair and dark eyes—his mum's family is from India."
"What's his middle name," asked Harry.
"Potter," answered Peace. "I told you I named him after you. There are a lot of Harrys out there—wanted him to know for sure who he was named for."
"Harry Potter Peace," said Harry. He felt a smile play at his lips. "It's weird—but I like it."
"Yeah, we did too," answered Peace. "You tired yet? You've done a hundred and fifty of those things at least."
"Git," muttered Harry. He stopped and shook out his arms. "Are we going to talk about the case today?"
"Nope. Not today. Now you get to experience what it's really like to be an Auror."
That sounded promising. "Really? What are we going to do?"
Ten minutes later, Harry found himself standing just inside the door of an empty classroom, pressed against the wall. The room was dark and the door only just ajar. He'd been instructed to stay here for an hour. Waiting. Listening. Standing against the wall the entire time. Aware, alert. Not daydreaming, or sleeping.
He should have known it wouldn't be all fun and games.
His mind kept wandering back to the Hogsmeade incident. Reuben had warned him not to let his mind wander. He was to be aware of his surroundings at all times, ready to draw his wand if need be. But the puzzle of the tunnel plagued him. The existence of the tunnels might be fairly well known, but very few people knew how to access them. They'd been closed off all of last year—watched at either end by monitoring spells, Severus had said. If anyone accessed them, he'd have been alerted along with the Ministry.
And the Honeydukes tunnel had been used by Death Eaters to access Hogwarts for any number of reasons. Probably used by Voldemort as well.
So it made sense, didn't it, that whoever had planned this attack, whoever had left Alex Sanders' body in the tunnel before the collapse—whoever had killed the man—had some connection to Voldemort's regime.
He tried to clear his mind and focus on the here and now. The padding of occasional footsteps in the corridor. The hush of voices—he was in a passage just around the corner from the entrance to the Headmaster's office and students tended to keep their voices down around here. The whistle of wind through the shuttered window. He shifted from one foot to the other. How long had it been? He attempted a non-verbal Tempus and sighed when he realized he'd only been here twenty minutes. He leaned his head back against the wall and tried not to let his mind wander.
Which was impossible, of course. He was bored. Bored bored bored bored bored.
Twenty minutes later, it occurred to him that Severus must have known exactly what he was doing when he set up this so-called apprenticeship.
And that made the next twenty minutes just a little more bearable.