Chapter Eleven:
Nestlings and Digging Sluffers
Translated by annebanane and Coombs
They felt as if they were falling – and then they crashed hard onto the the floor. Where they had touched the portkey feather, their fingers burned a little. The feather itself was gone. Darkness surrounded them, and for a horrifying moment they wondered where they had landed. Harry felt her hair touching his arm, it felt soft and vulnerable like a small animal, and Harry grinned into the dark about this thought. Hermione had meanwhile long gotten up.
"We are at Grimmauld Place. Right at your desk. We're lucky!" she whispered.
Harry's eyes had gotten used to the darkness, too, and he recognized the shape of his new drawing room
"Come on, we should hurry up. I really don't want to be get caught here!" Hermione dragged him to his feet, then they tiptoed upstairs to Mrs Black's former room. The house was quiet, but they supposed that at least the kitchen downstairs was occupied.
The dark room with its even darker shadows in the corners appeared eerie. Harry and Hermione hesitated a little on the threshold, both remembering Ron and how they had found him lying on the floor with the evil musical box beside him.
"Lumos!" said Hermione determinedly. The light of her wand overcame the shadows. She went to the glass cabinet and opened it carefully. "You watch out! If this musical box falls down or plays even the slightest tune, you hit it shut immediately!"
After these words she stretched and looked at the five or six books sitting on the topmost shelf. "Here it is!" Somewhat awestruck she took hold of a book covered with scarab blue brocade. The title Nightworlds was printed in silver letters on the spine and the front cover.
Harry was still watching the musical box, but it kept perfectly silent. "Let's get out of here," he said. A book written by a dark magician couldn't strike him with awe. She handed Harry the book and carefully closed the doors again. Then they silently went downstairs again.
"I'd really like to know who is downstairs. And whether they notice us. Remember, they claim that this house is so well protected," said Harry.
"I don't know. Do you really want to risk that trouble? They certainly want to know why we're here."
"I took the Invisibility Cloak along. Come on!"
They pulled the Invisibility Cloak over their heads. Being two, it was really cramped under it. They carefully tiptoed downstairs. In front of the kitchen door they stopped and eavesdropped to catch the muttering that came from inside.
"Shit, I left the Extendable Ears upstairs! They would be perfect now," whispered Harry.
"If we eavesdrop directly at the door, it'll be okay," said Hermione and pressed her ear at the door. She was right. When Harry followed her example, he surprisingly heard Lupin's voice.
"… both of them have to be – gone, Dumbledore and Snape! They were the main keepers of the Defensive Shield Charms. Minerva doesn't know how long they can still hold them up!"
"What's he doing here? I thought he is in Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione.
"Quiet!" hissed Harry.
"… what about Slughorn? And this new Harper? She must be quite capable from what I've heard." That was Moody's voive.
"Oh, no!" whispered Hermione wanting to back off. "He can also see us through the door!"
But Harry held her arm tight. "That a risk we have to take," he whispered back. "I want to listen to them now!"
"Slughorn is working hard on it," answered Lupin right now. "But he has to deal with new inventions, he told me. Snape always liked to experiment, even as a student. Slughorn hasn't got a clue. And as for Harper – I think, Minerva wants to get to know her better before she lets her get involved in such things."
Behind the door everybody fell silent. Then another well-known voice could be heard: "What about the gravedigger poison? Did Hagrid get any?"
"That's Fred!" whispered Hermione in surprise.
"Because we're ready. The cartridges are all prepared."
"And George," added Harry.
"Hagrid's got about half a pint, he said. That's enough for about four gallons ready mixed potion," Lupin answered. "How do your cartridges work then?"
"You shoot or throw them into the crowd. They are self-liquidating and will finish the Inferi within a very short time. At least if what you have found out about this poison is correct."
"I personally think this is pretty nasty," said Fred.
"An Inferius is dead, Fred. Nothing but a moving body made by Dark Arts. The poison just neutralizes the potion that was responsible for getting it going to start with," explained Lupin.
"It'll be better off following that, boy," said Moody. "And after you have once seen them in action, you forget about such sensitivities. They chew your flesh off your living bones!"
Involuntarily Hermione shivered under the Invisibility Cloak. Her hair brushed Harry again.
"Have any more of them been spotted?" asked Tonks hesitatingly.
"The Muggle Prime Minister told Scrimgeour about incidents that apparently are a sign of them," answered Moody. "He's quite upset, good old Rufus. At the Auror Headquarters they apparently don't progress either, and he blustered that under his direction it would look quite differently. Well. No trace of Snape or the Malfoys so far anyway. And all attempts to get closer to Azkaban failed, too. All they can see when getting nearer is golden haze. As soon as they get into the haze with their ships or brooms they stray in circles. Meanwhile they are pretty sure that Voldemort is staying at Azkaban."
"And we're not making any progress either," sighed Arthur Weasley. "No hint. The house that burnt down yesterday up in the North seemed to have belonged to Snape. Only debris and ashes left."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other.
"The worst is yet to come," started Lupin hesitatingly. "Minerva and Slughorn are afraid that he might try weather charms."
"Weather charms? How did they hit on that?" asked Fred in disbelief.
"All these chilly nights in August – and up in the North they haven't had a drop of rain for weeks. That's somehow suspicious."
"But weather charms – I thought this was a Muggles' fairy tale. Well, making a bit of snow in the garden for the kids at Christmas is okay. But on a grand scale – I've never heard of anybody who can do that." Arthur, too, sounded doubtful.
"Minerva said that Dumbledore had suggested this possibility. Apparently he reckoned Voldemort would try it," said Lupin slowly.
Chairs were moved and steps could be heard.
"Let's go, hurry up!" hissed Harry. They rushed upstairs as fast as they could, and reached Harry's drawing roomjust in time before the door was opened downstairs.
"Oh, gee, that was high time!" said Hermione. "I'm wondering why Moody didn't notice us. He should have been able to spot us through the door and the Invisibility Coat with his eye!"
"What does it matter!" mumbled Harry, looking over his desk for the other port-key feather. "I am allowed to be here, have you forgotten?"
"And shouldn't something have warned them that there is someone in the house?" continued Hermione.
"Here it is. Now come on, let's touch it together," said Harry.
"Do you have a tight hold of the book?"
"Yes, of course. Let's go now. They still might have noticed us, and I really don't want to have to come up with an explanation."
They stood at the desk and both of them touched the quill that was the other part of the double-portkey. "Return!" said Harry. With a jerk they were torn into the well-known pull and they whizzed through something which Lupin had called a corridor. The pull spit them out at the other end of the corridor, and when they crashed onto the floor of the common room in Hogwarts, it was too late to think about the fact that others might watch their unusual arrival.
Harry had clung to the book with both arms and had ungently landed on his knees. Hermione was rubbing her arm she had landed on. A quick glance around showed them that nobody had seen them. The common room was empty.
"Ron!"
"There he is. He is sleeping," said Hermione pointing to the chair at the fireplace. Ron had missed their arrival also. But the quill which had enabled their precise return lay on the armrest of his chair.
"By the way, do you really understand how the Portkeys work?" asked Harry in a low voice, putting the quill back into his pocket.
"There are the official ones like those we went to the Quidditch World Championship with. And then there are those for private use like your Double Portkey here. The one end of the way is predetermined and with the matching part you can reach this special place from where-ever you are. This kind of Portkey doesn't take you along but opens the corridor to your destiny. That's why you can easily return, too," explained Hermione getting up.
"Where do you know all that from?" asked Harry a bit awestruck.
"I read it up, you know," she answered shortly. "I thought this thing about your quills pretty weird, especially because the house at Grimmauld Place is supposed to be open only to insiders. Lupin probably made them himself. But these special Portkeys, too, have to be permitted, and you get the permission only when you can prove that you are allowed to stay at the place determined."
But Hermione sounded a bit absent-minded. She watched sleeping Ron, whose red hair fell in wisps over his forehead. He looked very young and innocent, silently snoring in his chair. For the first time Harry realized how much he resembled Ginny beyond the colour of the hair: the noble lips, the long, gently curving eyebrows. A sad feeling of loss rose in him. Eventually his eyes met Hermione's. They both smiled, maybe because both knew what the other one had been thinking. It was a strange moment.
Then Hermione determinedly took the book out of Harry's arms. Harry nudged Ron to wake him up. But it proved to be as difficult as he thought. In the end he shook him without mercy. Ron's deep sleep always made him uneasy now.
"Yeah, 'm awake," mumbled the shaken one.
"I should have taken a box of Waking-Beans from Fred and George with me!"
"Oh, no!" Hermione suddenly gave a groan.
"What's the matter?"
"Here, look at that! Ron, haven't you noticed that? And I thought you've read in this book!"
The two bent their heads over the pages Hermione was showing them. "That's Latin!" shouted Harry appalled.
"Indeed. And making it worse: I think it is Medieval Latin used by scholars. I don't have a clue about that."
"Ron, you idiot! You really didn't notice that?"
Ron blushed and looked pretty angry now. "I only browsed in the book. I didn't have time to read! The only word I saw was Horcruxes!"
"Horcruces! Here it is! Admittedly – there are English chapters in between. Apparently only the original text by Slytherin is in Latin, Grindelwald's annotations are in English."
"There you go," snarled Ron.
Hermione was intensely staring at the pages. "There are lexicons and grammar books in the library. I will get myself acquainted with it," she said determinedly. "But we have to hide the book. It's strictly forbidden in Hogwarts."
"And you want to read it anyhow?"
"Well, I think, in this case the end justifies the means."
"I'll take the book and put it in my suitcase. The Black's book and some other things, that nobody should see, are also in there already. I locked it with a password," said Harry.
"I hope it's not something like 'Ginny' or – er – 'Voldemort'!" said Ron, getting up and stretching. "I'd try those first."
"Exactly, you fool. That's why it is none of those. Well, I'll go to bed now. During breakfast we'll tell you how it went."
Hermione, too, yawned and left for the girls' bedroom.
oooOooo
When they walked towards the greenhouses for the Herbology lesson the next morning, thick cold mist laid over the grass-land. Because they had slept too long and therefore had skipped breakfast, they whispered their report of what they had over-heard from the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to Ron.
"Do you think Snape changed the Defensive Shield Charms?" asked Ron. "So that they might collapse?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," said Harry grimly.
He tried not to think of the Inferi reportedly having been seen. His experience in the cave, on the underground lake which had been filled with these bodies was still too fresh. And he didn't find it comforting that the Order apparently wanted to fight them with the poison of jellyfish.
"I don't believe in the weather charms, either," said Hermione shivering and pulling her coat closer around her. "I read that you have to cover the whole area where you want to change the weather with something like a magical cheese cover, you know. And it's not possible for a single person to do that, only for many people working together."
"Meanwhile there are enough deatheaters, don't you think?" Ron asked to consider, distrustfully eyeing the mist.
"Be quiet now, there's Professor Sprout. Let's meet at the lake during lunch time to talk everything over," said Harry.
Professor Sprout was standing at the door of the greenhouse, grimly looking at the mist that slowly started lifting now. In front of Harry Neville yawned and almost tripped over the door step. Inside it was cool and humid and it smelled like forest. Professor Sprout called them over into a separate big area, where there – to their surprise – several tall trees were planted on a thick layer of soil, leaves and fir needles.
"I welcome you all to our project of the year. As always in the graduating class this will be a teamwork, this time together with Professor Slughorn and Hagrid."
Harry looked up to the crown of a young beech tree and noticed that there were some bunches of another plant in the twigs. They bore clusters of tiny green berries but also unpleasant looking, blackish bags that seemed to have a filling which looked as though it was in teeming motion. Harry nudged Ron, but he, too, had already noticed the ulcerous outgrowths and he uncomfortably watched how they bulged out here and there.
"Has anybody got an idea what we are dealing with?" asked Professor Sprout, who had noticed the curious looks pretty well.
Neville and Hermione raised their hands.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, please enlighten us!"
"That looks like a Nestling – "
"The Forest Nestling!" interrupted Hermione.
"Exactly, the Forest Nestling. Not to be mistaken for the Ground Nestling, the Hedge Nestling or the Swamp Nestling, which all three –"
"Very nice, very nice, Mr. Longbottom. But slowly now. You are right. What we see here up in the twigs is the Ordinary Forest Nestling. This plant, its reproduction and finally the use of the berries are the topic of your graduation year project. The Nestling –," started Professor Sprout, stepping a bit backwards from the separated area after having peered up to the trees, "The Nestling was classified as a sponger for most of the time. It grows rankly in the tops of forest trees, and not rarely it stifles the host plant after a few years. But the special problem with the Nestling is its way of reproduction.
You see the seed bags up there? When they burst – and that will be pretty soon as far as I can see – then each bag will set free about one thousand little seedlings that glide to the ground. From there they start the search for their favoured nesting sites – that means the coats of animals or skin and hair of humans. These seedlings can move forward with their cilia like tiny beetles. They latch onto the spot where they might find warmth and – well, blood. Then they dig into the skin and there they mature to several scions that are able to fly."
"Inside the skin?" asked Lavender disgustedly.
"Exactly. And if you don't take care and you are strolling under the wrong tree at the wrong time, you can catch some nice furuncles," answered Professor Sprout laconically. "That isn't dangerous at all, only pretty displeasing. They take about four to eight weeks to reach maturity. Then the furuncles burst open by themselves and the scions fly out."
Half of the class gave a groan and choking sounds. The corners of Sprout's mouth twitched. "That's the reason why you will be wearing protective clothing for your work," she said and pointed to a pile of overalls and a basket with big protective goggles beside it.
"And what is the use of the Nestlings?" asked Hermione.
"You can make harmonising and even analgetic extraction from its berries. We learned this only two years ago from Ursula Ulcus' research. This might even be a ground-breaking discovery because it looks as if the active agent in the berries could substitute the much more expensive gland secretion of the Red-Eyed Pindicoot."
Perhaps with the exception of Neville and Hermione the class wasn't really interested in that. Everybody had stepped back from the reproduced patch of forest and they were closely watching the fidgeting inside the seed bags.
"Where are the seeds supposed to nest? There are no animals around!"
Professor Sprout had returned to the door and had a look outside. Meanwhile the mist had gone. "Hagrid should be here by now. I expect him any minute," she said.
Ron gave a groan. "Oh, no, not Hagrid. I'm sure he's got creatures that are much more intimidating than just a few furuncles!"
"Keep calm, Mr. Weasley. Or are you afraid of moles?" The others giggled.
"If it's Hagrid's moles they definitely have a lot of teeth or claws or poison stings," answered Ron.
"There he comes!" said Professor Sprout at that moment and opened the door wide. The students rushed after her and could see Hagrid coming across the grounds. He was carrying a heavy cage in his arms, but apparently something had escaped from of it at that moment, because he cursed, put it down and slammed the little door shut.
"Oh, yeah! I'd say that's a good start!" said Ron.
Hagrid tried to catch something that was flitting over the lawn as fast as a rabbit and doubling back like one. At this moment two hissing cats came rushing from different directions and chased the little animal.
"Oh, no, that's Crookshanks!" shouted Hermione and started running, too.
The big red tomcat and its black comrade dashed around the lawn like crazy. Hagrid came along with the finally closed cage, gasping. "Hope the beasts don' get it!"
Hermione succeeded in catching Crookshanks. He struggled fiercely, but Hermione relentlessly held him tight.
"That one won' get 'it either, I s'pose!" said Hagrid watching the still chasing black cat. "Probably the Sluffer is goin' ter dig a hole and makes its exit. And the tomcat misses out! Speed ain't everythin'."
"Sluffers?" asked Harry and dared to glance into the cage.
"Diggin' Sluffers, twenty of them in here. I go get the toads later."
The spectacle on the lawn came to the end that Hagrid had predicted: Finally the cat reached the sluffer, but it had digged itself into the loose soil as fast as the wind. The cat tried hard to hit it with the paw, but he couldn't reach it any more. Eventually he left the little heap of earth and indignantly began to clean himself. He managed to put on a proud expression as if he felt embarrassed that he had let himself be carried away by this kerfuffle and he wanted it to fall into oblivion as soon as possible.
"Can I let Crookshanks go?" shouted Hermione still trying to avoid her pet's paws.
"Sure," said Hagrid. "The Sluffer is dug in." Relieved, Hermione let the red cat go that ran away immediately.
"Well," Hagrid started bored. "This is the Diggin' Sluffer, a sort of mole, very peaceful, can on the other hand devastate a vegetable patch heavily. Cats love ter hunt 'em as yer've seen. Can't resist when they see one."
"We'll put the Sluffers into the green house now," said Professor Sprout. "They are appropriate hosts to the Forest- and Ground Nestling. As alternative experiment we'll put some Forest Toads in this enclosure. Let's see if that works, too."
Neville had been observing the grey brown animals in the cage closely. They were indeed like moles having the same front paws perfectly designed for digging but obviously they were quicker and more versatile. Curiously they sat up on their hind paws and watched the students who were staring at them in return.
"I can't believe Hagrid puts something so harmless in front of us!" Ron said to Harry quietly. "They almost look cute!"
"Isn't it cruel to infect them with the Nestlings on purpose?" Neville asked.
Professor Sprout rolled her eyes. "Mr Longbottom, do you want to do research or supervise a petting zoo?" Neville remained silent.
"Look!" Lavender screamed. "One burst."
Everyone rushed to the forest area but stopped out of harm's way from the trees. In fact, one of the blackish bags at the beech tree was torn open. They were watching in fascination as many tiny, bluish things flew out and whirred to the ground.
"They have one wing on their back so they can glide down from the tree," Professor Sprout explained. "Then the wing drops off and they move on by crawling." She reached into the cage and put one of the Sluffers onto the forest ground. It instantly took off. Hagrid set the others free as well.
"Neville! Don't! Come back," Hermione shouted suddenly. But Neville did not respond. He had climbed over the glass barrier and determinedly went over to the spot where the Nestlings had just landed. The class watched him fascinated and with disgust as he lay his hand on the ground and waited until one of the tiny crawlers had reached his arm. Professor Sprout looked at him in surprise.
"I'll study it closely," Neville said, a touch of defiance in his voice. "And I'll write an essay about it."
"Very good, Mr Longbottom. Your dedication is very admirable. I just hope you won't regret it. But I'll read your essay with great interest!"
As Neville climbed back, the others retreated.
"This is so disgusting!" Lavender moaned.
"Man, you sleep in our dormitory!" said Dean "You should have talked to us about that beforehand!"
"Once the Nestling is settled, it's not dangerous anymore," said Professor Sprout. "And now let's start. I've got some bushes with berries over there that need to be harvested. You are going to use the berries in Professor Slughorn's class. Be careful, the bushes have countless capillary barbs. "
"Can we wear gloves?" Lavender asked.
"You wouldn't be able to pick the berries if you did. So grit your teeth and go!" the Professor answered resolutely.
oooOooo
Finally lunchtime. They had eaten, then Hermione had hurried off to some office – this time Professor Harper's – and Ron and Harry went for a little walk down by the lake. Since the fog had lifted students were outside everywhere.
"The Phoenix-people think that Voldemort is in Azkaban?" Ron asked.
"Yes. Matches quite well, doesn't it? But did you know that Fred and George are members now?"
"No. But I guess they can make a lot money with it, too."
"You mean, they're only in this for the money?" Harry asked surprised.
"No, not exactly. But they are damn good at making money – I believe they smell every chance." Harry had to agree with him on that.
"So Snape's house burnt down – it's weird that he even had one. Never though about where he might live, when he's not in Hogwarts," Ron said.
"Well, his father was a Muggle. Maybe it was his house." Harry found himself thinking that Snape may lie somewhere underneath the smoking debris of this house. Reluctantly he shook his head as if he could get rid of this idea. This wish was definitely more than just normal hate. But what exactly was normal hate? He just had to remember Snape's look when he bent over Dumbledore and something deep inside him just flipped out. He barely avoided a neon-orange coloured frisbee and threw it back to a first-year.
"Somehow crazy to be back at school as if nothing had happened, isn't it?" Ron asked. "And all the time I try not to look at that white tomb over there."
Harry had felt this way, too, but both of them were now looking at the other lakeside where the white stone of Dumbledore's tomb was glowing in the bright sun. Afterwards they went along in silence and for the first time Harry felt peaceful when he thought of Dumbledore.
Eventually they heard fast steps behind them.
"Hey, wait!" Hermione said when they turned around. As she was walking next to them silence was over. "I just got back from Harper's office. She has worked in Padua, too, so she could tell me something about the academy and the scholarship."
"And how was it?"
"Don't know. Conversation was quite good. She appears funny and pretty cool. But in her office there's something on the wall covered by a black cloth."
"Maybe a portrait of this Dementor she had interviewed?" Ron suggested, kicking a few still green acorns across the path. "I mean, what do you expect? She's teacher for Defence Against The Dark Arts."
"That thing seemed a bit fishy to me," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I think it was a mirror. Why does she hang it up only to cover it so well afterwards?"
"Probably she doesn't like her own reflection?"
"I tell you, she's got a skeleton in her closet," Hermione said. "I'll see what I can find out about her."
"You don't believe Luna's nonsense, do you? You know, Voldemort's daughter and so?" Harry asked.
"Rubbish! But there's something fishy about it. There comes Luna by the way."
In fact Luna came strolling along the lake path, every once in a while taking pleasure in biting into an apple she held in one hand, intently looking at the water glistening in the sunlight. She seemingly noticed them as she nearly banged into Ron. She looked at them mildly surprised. "Hey! I didn't see you coming."
"We could tell that," Ron said, smiling at her.
"I've been looking at the lake. Isn't it beautiful in the sun?"
"Yeah," said Ron who was still gazing at her.
She wore her hair in a plaited topknot and had put a few hairpins with big glimmering pearls in it. Harry and Hermione intentionally avoided looking at each other.
"Do you think the water is already too cold to go swimming?" Luna asked.
"I'd never go in there voluntarily," Hermione said shivering. "I had enough of that at the Triwizard Tournament, many thanks!"
"And then there's this giant squid. And I don't fancy after the merpeople either," added Ron.
"Let alone the Grindylows and others," said Harry who remembered his bath in the lake at the Triwizard Tournament too well.
"The Quibbler says that you can find something to win your love for you when you swim in the lake during full moon and dive in the way of the moonlight," Luna explained matter-of-factly. Giant squids, merpeople and Grindylows obviously didn't impress her at all.
"So the Quibbler now has a column for life experience or what?" asked Hermione peering Luna with a slightly desperate look.
"It's been having it for ages. Madame Merrymaid's Reassurances on page eight," answered Luna untroubled.
"Make sure you take some Gillyweed if you want to go diving," Harry said.
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you, Harry. See you tonight, Ron!" With these words she left.
"You're going to meet her tonight?" Hermione asked sharply.
"The yearbook project. We want to have a look at old yearbooks. Find some suggestions. Collect some background material," explained Ron who was avoiding her gaze.
"Just talk her out of this diving thing," said Harry.
"Yeah, just tell her what she needs to win your heart," Hermione snarled at him.
oooOooo
Hermione was at the library working on her application. Ron had left to meet Luna because of the yearbook. He had tried to look as cool as possible when he left but his ears had been quite red. Now Harry was alone and had withdrawn to the dormitory to be undisturbed. He sat on the windowsill and spent a dreary hour pondering. From here he had just seen Lupin walking over the meadows and Hekate Harper next to him. It was always easy to recognize her white hair. He was wondering if they were busy with the Defensive Spells and Charms that Snape had left behind, inscrutable. Or were they going to Hagrid to get the mysterious poison from the jellyfish?
It was quite comforting to know Lupin was around. Of all his father's friends he was the only one left. He made a mental note to ask Lupin about his parents the next time he met him. He should have done that earlier. He wondered if he had the heart to talk about what he had found out about his mother's ancestry. Was it possible that Lupin knew about it? That Lily had known about her Slytherin ancestry he knew for sure since Slughorn's Party. But somehow he doubted that she had talked about it to anybody. Maybe she hadn't even told his father. Suddenly Harry's image of his parents was different from what he had been told: His parents, a happy, harmonious couple, who had met and fallen in love back at school and married afterwards, who would still live today if it hadn't been for Voldemort –
What might it have meant for his mother? What did it mean for himself? He didn't want to be a Slytherin, it was as simple as that. Slughorn could go on about genius and nobility uniting in this genealogy. To him it was clear: Being Slytherin meant being close to the dark side. Bad enough to be chased by Voldemort due to a prophecy. He didn't want to be related to him. It seemed as if he had just discovered a part of himself he hadn't known before, that was strange and repugnant to him but which he couldn't get rid of.
Today, there seemed to be only dark thoughts. When he looked into his suitcase – the password was "Pandora" by the way – only unpleasant things looked back: the jewelry case containing the earrings that he'd rather forget about; Nightworlds that he had just given a inconspicuous cover today; Snape's copy of Advanced Potion-Making, Nature's Nobility and of course the mysterious, safely locked book with the Black's coat of arms.
The book Kreacher had died for ... Harry couldn't get it out of his mind. He had spent many minutes pondering about how to open it but he ran out of ideas how else to try it. Gradually he tended to Ron's proposal of opening it forcibly. Only the reminder of Kreacher's death held him off. He wondered what it may contain since it had been so important for Kreacher that he didn't want it to fall into his hands. There was something eerie about this book, not only because of Kreacher's painfully death. Harry could feel it.
And at the back of his mind there it was: the smouldering thought of the Horcruxes. Again he took the plain, undecorated golden locket out of his pocket and glanced at it. At least two people had died for this object: The mysterious writer of the note who had signed with R.A.B. and of course Dumbledore. Why hadn't he known before or at least realised then that it was a fake and not the true Horcux? Harry had been thinking about that a lot. He assumed it was a mistake he just didn't want to put past Dumbledore. And still there was the question of where the true locket was. Had R.A.B. succeeded in destroying it?
Grindelwald's book might possibly help him to find something about creating and hopefully destroying Horcruxes – provided that Hermione would get any further with the Latin – but it wouldn't be any help to find Voldemort's Horcruxes in particular. The diary and the ring of Voldemort's grandfather Marvolo were destroyed. Whereabouts and condition of the locket – uncertain. If Dumbledore's assumptions were correct, there were still the goblet of Helga Hufflepuff and probably Voldemort's pet, the serpent Nagini, left. And last but not least items of the Hogwarts founders Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.
But why shouldn't he have created another Horcrux in order to replace Tom Riddle's diary – that he knew was destroyed – and to fill the parts of his soul fragments up to seven again?
And who knew for sure that Voldemort had not found out about the destruction of the ring?
Pondering about Horcruxes was like a bottomless pit. Whenever he was concerned with it, his head was buzzing. He decided to go out and visit Hagrid. He wanted to ask him about Tom Riddle anyway since they attended school at the same time.
oooOooo
Harry could see Hagrid from a distance. He was just coming along the path out of the forest carrying two empty baskets and a big pannier on his back and was heading towards his house. When he saw Harry he waved at him.
"Jus' been at Grawp's," he said when Harry arrived. "I brought him loads o' bread an' cookies an' tea. He's learned a lot. Can cook tea by 'imself!"
"Hm," said Harry.
"Seemed somehow confused. Looks like some creatures are on their way 'round in the mountains and talk rubbish 'bout You-Know-Who an' stuff. They've put a bug in 'is ear. All giants would follow You-Know-Who an' he should too an' if not they're goin' ter clobber 'im. Barely could calm 'im down."
They went in silence on the path between Hagrid's vegetable patch and potato field to his hut. "Want ter come in for a tea?" Hagrid asked.
"Sure. I actually wanted to ask you something."
Hagrid who was putting down his pannier, paused for a moment and gave him a look Harry could not interpret. Distrustful? Wary? Scared? A bit of everything. You could not overlook his discomfort on this announcement, and Harry was surprised at that.
"I'll make tea first," said Hagrid and stored pannier and baskets in his closet. Then he filled the kettle and rummaged copiously for tea caddy and sugar. "What's it about, Harry?"
"You knew Tom Riddle back in school," Harry started.
Hagrid stopped rummaging and appeared out of his supply cabinet looking surprised and – so it seemed to Harry – relieved. "Yeah. He made sure I was expelled from school. That bugger."
"Tell me about him. What kind of person he was. Whom he spent time with."
"Tom Riddle," said Hagrid quietly and dropped himself on a groaning chair. He spun the tea caddy in his big hands and pondered. Harry waited patiently.
"Yeh know, there's one thing I always kept to myself. But maybe yeh should know all the same." But nevertheless he obviously had difficulties talking about it. He got up again and Harry watched him brewing tea, pouring milk in a chipped little can, putting the sugar bowl on the table.
"At that time in the summer holidays after I was expelled from school – I followed him. I was doggin' his step, am quite good at it, yeh wouldn't believe it 'cause I'm so big, but I'm good at it. Don' think he ever realised it," he said contentedly. "First off ter London, ter this orphanage where he lived. Then all o' them were off for summer vacation – can yeh imagine 'im goin' on vacation after all the trouble! I was all knocked out. Guess, I wanted him ter account for it. Maybe I just wanted ter knock him up."
Harry was all on edge. When Hagrid looked at him, he nodded.
"Ye'll never guess where they went, Harry."
"Sure! To Godric's Hollow," Harry answered laconically. "Where my parents were murdered."
Hagrid stared at him. "Yeh know that? How?"
"I've been there, with Lupin. I'll explain later. For now go on, please."
"Well, I didn't know this place then. Recognised it when I got yeh out when yeh were a baby. Anyway, all the orphans went there ter soak up a little sea air. And that's what Riddle did." Hagrid shivered invlountarily. When he continued, he lowered his voice.
"He'd been strollin' around alone, down at the beach, among the cliffs, quite breakneck hikes. But one time he wasn't alone. Had a girl with him, few years younger than him. She didn't look happy, but they went ter the cliffs. An' then all of a sudden they were gone an' I thought I had lost 'em, but then I saw the gap in the rock face. There was a cave an' they went in, I followed. Was quite difficult in there. Had to hide an' stay far away from them. In the cave he suddenly took somethin' out of his pocket, was a rabbit or so. Gave it ter the girl, together with a knife. She had ter cut the poor rabbit's throat. Could see her shiver, an' when the blood was spatterin' around he hissed at her icily. Collected the blood with a bowl."
"And then?" asked Harry breathlessly when Hagrid paused.
"He drank – I think, he drank somethin' out of a mug an' then washed his hands in the bowl. Can yeh imagine that? Washed 'em in blood."
"Did he bring something else? What happened then?"
Hagrid looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, a little book. Dunno what it was. Poured the blood from the bowl over it. Then he said a spell an' touched the book with his wand. An' I saw how the blood flowed – flowed in the book or so. Sunk in it. Book looked as if it was in mint condition again. Then I made off 'cause it looked as if they were goin' ter leave. After that I didn't want ter get found by him!"
"Sure," Harry said mechanically. He was almost sure, that Hagrid had – without knowing it – witnessed Voldemort creating his first Horcrux. The diary. Above all he was quite sure that this girl had been the very Amy Benson that the head of the orphanage in Dumbledore's Pensieve had talked about. Tom Riddle had carried her off to a cave as a child – quite certain the same cave that apparently was of particular importance to him. "Tell me again, how old had Riddle been then?"
"That was the summer after his fifth year in Hogwarts. So around sixteen, I think."
"And you followed him the whole summer?"
"Not after that," muttered Hagrid and lowered his eyes. "Can't explain it, but the thing in the cave was – it scared me. All the blood –"
"And before?"
"Lost track of him once," Hagrid answered, still a little ashamed. "Was only one day. As if he had vanished from the face of the earth."
Enough time to kill his father and his grandparents, Harry thought and remembered the scene Dumbledore had shown him. Three murders but only one Horcrux. That must have given him the idea in the first place to create more Horcruxes. He had had two surplus murders, so to speak. And in autumn, back in Hogwarts he had asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes, and in particular about the possibility to create more than one.
Harry's head was ringing. Above all, Hagrid's story suggested some sort of ritual.
"Did you never tell Dumbledore about it?" he asked eventually.
"Till a few years ago, I didn't even know that Tom Riddle is – ehm – You-Know-Who. An' who would've believed me? I was thirteen an' just expelled from school an' he was responsible for that! He was prefect, best grades, awards an' all that! Headmaster Dippet had always been taken with him. Tried ter forget it."
"And then? When the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again five years ago?"
Hagrid shook his head. "Felt guilty at that time, yeh know. An' then it turned out alright. Wouldn't have helped anyway."
Would it? It would have saved Dumbledore a long quest for the cave. But else?
"Have I done any damage?" Hagrid asked quietly and fearfully. "I mean – could I've prevented Dumbledore's death – "
"No, no," Harry calmed him down. "Certainly not. I think he knew most of it before anyway." He needed to get out now and ponder and then tell Ron and Hermione everything. So he said goodbye hectically. When he stepped in front Hagrid's hut he saw the black tom cat that had chased the Sluffer that morning, stroll off to the edge of the forest.
The meadows were thickly befogged. Up in the blue twilight of the evening sky the moon rose behind a thin layer of mist.
