Revelations
"That was impressively handled, my Lord," Sable expressed genuine admiration after they retired to the Lord's chambers, "Not many of your servants can keep up with the Seer's utterances, and none of the stewards even tried."
"Is he always like this?" Harry asked, pondering the strange man's pronouncements.
"He used to be clearer, but recently has become less so." Sable admitted, "As a Seer he sees many things, often random fragments that make no sense to even him, which makes it a little difficult for him when interacting with the rest of us. It seems he was concentrating particularly hard for you Harry."
"Well at least he doesn't need a translator yet." Harry sighed, "We should get Luna here before he does."
"I will go through the records to see if I can find this 'Loopy Looney' amongst those you've encountered," Sable replied, "You may wish to have your Researcher looking as well."
"Luna Lovegood," Harry informed her, "Only daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood. Editor of the Quibbler. I believe they are holidaying together in Sweden looking for Crumple Horned Snorkacks, whatever they are."
"I… see," Sable was momentarily flummoxed by Harry's pronouncement but quickly pulled herself together, "Do you wish to visit her there or summon her here?"
"I want her to see the Psychiatrist first," Harry decided, "So that I can be sure I am speaking with the real Luna."
"Very good, Harry. I shall contact her immediately."
"I'll write her a letter," Harry decided, "Can you arrange for it to be sent?"
"The messengers of Azkaban are at your disposal."
. . .
"Luna Lovegood?"
"Well, the Seer actually asked for 'Loopy Looney known to thee'," Harry explained over dinner, "But I don't think I know anyone actually called 'Loopy Looney' - does it ring any bells for you?"
"No one apart from Luna master," Hermione confessed.
"Hopefully he won't keep to that name once she arrives."
"That shouldn't be much of a problem, Harry." Sable commented, "The Seers of Azkaban tend to predict their own deaths 'with eerie accuracy' according to the archives. He should have barely enough time to train her in half-controlling their gift before leaving his burden to her."
"Only half control?"
"I am told that, as seers, they can see anything," Sable sighed, "Not everything or even something. Most of what they see is random, and the more they try to see the closer the random fragments come to overwhelming them and shattering their minds. Most of what they learn is limiting the flow to the point that they can process those fragments that come through whilst maintaining some veneer of sanity. I have been advised that blocking the flow entirely has never been achieved – our current seer once mentioned something about 'context without data' but I really didn't follow."
"It's information theory, I think." Hermione commented, "From a branch of Muggle academics – I'm afraid I never made much of a study of the principle so I can not be sure."
"I… see." Sable hesitated as she responded, "Thank you, Hermione."
"What's troubling you, Sable." Harry asked her, concern touching his tone.
"It's not my place to say, Harry."
"A Lord's duty is to care for his servants," Harry informed her, "And I can not do that blind."
"Thank you, my Lord Harry." Sable gave a slight smile as she calmed, "I will be fine."
"Do you doubt me?" he asked through their ring.
"Never, Harry."
Harry sighed as he returned to his meal. It appeared that he would get little out of her tonight. He could only hope that she would stay strong – he needed her support keeping the realities of this new life overwhelming him. A glance at Hermione showed him that she had seen it as well, though she seemed just as ignorant as to what was disturbing the young woman. Perhaps... no. Sable never let herself away from her Lord's side for long enough to be cornered by another.
Adding Sable's mysterious worries to his list of problems he needed to tend to, Harry settled into his chair and resolved to find another way.
. . .
The following morning Harry woke to find Sable already standing by his bed, his robes folded over her arm in place of her ever present book. A quick glance revealed the book on table beside his bed before he shooed her out. He really wanted to dress in peace, and Sable's seeming lack of modesty was beginning to get profoundly unnerving. He was also not at his most pleasant first thing in the morning.
After pulling himself together and rising from his bed, he dressed swiftly in his new robes and threw the shadowed cloak over the ensemble. Glancing at himself in the mirror showed that the shadows wrapped around his face also billowed over the cloak itself, concealing the navy hue of the fabric whilst leaving his robes in plain view. It was certainly an intimidating sight, he mused as he joined his servant and slave for breakfast.
. . .
Harry sat upon his ebony throne shortly afterwards, listening to the reports of his council. Isabella had brought the promised spectacles for attuning to his researcher, and promised to tend to the matter with all due precision whilst lamenting that his contacts would take longer to prepare. Harry assured her that he was quite content to wait for quality work, before dismissing her to tend to the matter in the shadows of the room.
"My Lord," his Commander of the Guard spoke up after the Guild Mistress had stepped aside, "I am informed that you desire to continue your aborted education, and wish me to provide a combat instructor?"
"We are currently at war, Commander," he reminded her, "I feel that I can afford a temporary bias in my education – it may ensure that I survive to correct the discrepancy."
"Of course, my Lord." she replied, "I can instruct you in magical combat personally."
"Combat, or duelling?" he pressed.
"Either, my Lord." she replied, a little surprise evident in her tone.
"Both, perhaps," he commented, "I may have need to act in a formal duel eventually."
"If my Lord wishes, I can also provide some instruction in the tactical and strategic elements of magical warfare,"
"Schedule some time with my assistant for the lessons." Harry instructed her.
"My Lord Azkaban"
"My Lord Azkaban," the Mayor spoke next, "If you require education, might I suggest the squib school?"
"Azkaban has a school as well?"
"Of course, my lord." the man explained, "Squibs are a part of the magical world and require a magical education. Unfortunately, they lack the power to make use of certain elements of practical magic, but some forms of magic are available to them, as well as academic theory. Our school also covers some more mundane subjects as well."
"I'll schedule a visit," Harry promised him, "Anyone else?"
"My Lord," the Commander of his Guard added, "I am your premier spell breaker. As such I make myself available to examine you and anyone else for spells and, if needed, remove them."
"I will require a cursory examination immediately after we are done here," Harry informed her, "We have an appointment with the Psychiatrist shortly and I don't intend to miss it."
"Very well, My Lord." she bowed, followed by the rest of the council as they recited the traditional phrase before shuffling out.
"Please see to my researcher first." Harry then added, silently calling Hermione forward, "We will both need the trace removed at a minimum."
"Easily accomplished, my Lord." she replied, carefully waving her wand at his slave, "I sense several further monitors, do you wish them removed?"
"Hermione?" he asked, "Were you aware of these monitor's presence or purpose?"
"No, Master." she shook her head in reply, "Their purpose is unknown to me."
"Assume malice then," Harry surmised, "Please remove them all, Commander."
"As you wish, my Lord." she hit Hermione with several spells before approaching the dais and kneeling.
"You have something further?" he inquired after Hermione had rejoined Sable by the door, her thoughts tickling the back of his mind.
"I sensed a slave bond," the commander quietly murmured, "She is bound to utter loyalty to her master, and I can not say who."
"I can," Harry informed her, "I am aware of this bond, and the consequences for breaking it. Please, leave it in place."
"As you wish, my Lord." she rose and cast a few spells on her Lord, "The trace has been neutralised, "she informed him, "Nothing obvious besides."
"Thank you, Commander. Kreacher!"
"Yes, master Potter sir?"
"The locket, please?"
"At once, Master Potter sir."
"During the last war, Regulus Black stole a locket from the Dark Lord and tasked Kreacher with destroying it." Harry explained to the Commander, "So far, he has failed. I want you to examine the artefact and tell me what you can of it."
"Kreacher has locket, master Potter sir."
"Place it down and step back," Harry instructed him, "When the Commander here has finished her charms, take it back and keep it hidden until I call on you."
"Yes, master Potter sir."
Rising from his throne, the Lord Caer Azkaban faded into the shadows.
. . .
"All Hail the Lord Caer Azkaban! Long may he rule!" the Psychiatrist greeted them on arrival.
"Thank you, Psychiatrist," Harry greeted her warmly, "I believe that you have a tentative lesson plan for me?"
"Yes, my Lord." she affirmed, "Though I may need to adjust the plan frequently."
"Quite acceptable, I assure you. What of my other request?"
"A means to detect if newcomers are under the influence of subtle mind altering effects, such as miss Granger was before you bound her?" the old woman seemed to droop, "If I did not know exactly what I was looking for I could never have spotted it – even when I did I could have missed it."
"You said that the suppressing effect of my bond highlighted the presence of the spells," Hermione quietly offered, "Could you not do something similar? Apply a temporary effect that suppresses any and all mind-altering spells and watch for a change?"
"Oh," the Psychiatrist seemed stumped for a moment or two before pulling herself together, "Sounds rather obvious when you put it like that, I'll look into it. First, though, Occlumency."
She had them sit down whilst she explained the basic theory behind the different types of Occlumency, before guiding them through a basic meditation exercise. She explained that this was more to prepare them for the exercises to come than anything else. Occlumency was, above all else, about knowing one's own mind, recognising foreign intrusions for what they where, and thinking your own thoughts.
"My Lord," she asked him when they where done, "With your permission I would like to teach you Legillimency as well. A reasonable grasp of internal Occlumency is needed to separate the foreign thoughts from your own, but there is no other reason for you to delay. It may also prove invaluable to later lessons."
"Thank you, Psychiatrist," Harry replied, "Add it to your lesson plans."
"I will my, Lord," she smiled as she added, "Long may you Rule!"
. . .
Immediately after that they returned to the castle, and the Lord's private chambers. His Commander of the guard was already there, pacing in front of the door, fear and fury on her face. Harry immediately invited her in.
"Something troubles you, Commander?" he asked as soon as the door closed behind them.
"That locket," she spat, "Is polluted with some of the foulest magic I have ever seen. I had to check the archives to confirm the signature, but I can no longer doubt it's nature. It is a Horcrux, My Lord. I recommend that you summon your Ritual master and prepare to cleanse it immediately!"
Harry sent a silent request to Sable as he gestured for the Commander to take a seat. She knelt before him instead as she explained what she had uncovered. A Horcrux, he learnt, was a fragment of a soul broken by cold blooded murder, encased in a physical object to anchor the remainder of the soul to the world. If the creator of such a thing where to die, only his body would actually perish. His soul would linger, unable to form a ghost but able to possess a suitable shell.
"That must be why Voldemort survived Godric's Hollow." Hermione surmised.
"He did claim to be 'less than the meanest ghost' whilst possessing Quirill." Harry agreed, "The only question is, how many of these damn things are there?"
"You think he may have made more?" his Commander asked.
"Certainly," Harry agreed, "That would be most like him. Why risk the destruction of a single anchor when you can have spares?"
"There has never been a record of anyone making more than one of these foul things." the Commander objected, "We have no way to trace additional anchors even if he did go through with it."
"All Hail my Lord Caer Azkaban! Long may he Rule!" panted the man in the door.
"Archibald Whetherby, I presume?" Harry inquired, despite Sable's silent whisper explaining exactly who he was.
"Your Ritual Master, My Lord." He explained as he knelt, "I care for your Lordship's temple and preside over those rituals where your Lordship is not present. I take it that your Lordship wishes to undertake the Ritual of Hrafnsmál? I had planned to raise the matter with you this coming Monday."
"Hrafnsmál?" he thought to his two girls.
"Ravensong," Sable replied, "Correctly performed it will grant you the ability to converse with Ravens of all kinds. As the ability can be made hereditary, the former Lords rarely made use of the ritual – the power of Hrafnsmál is a traditional mark of Lord Caer Azkaban."
"As intriguing as that sounds," Harry spoke aloud after a few moments, "It is not why I called upon you. We need to eliminate a Horcrux."
The man's complexion paled at the word – clearly he understood what it meant. Pulling himself together he hesitantly explained that he was unsure if Azkaban retained enough Dementors to complete the required ritual whilst promising to look into the matter with utmost haste. Before he left, he again asked about the Hrafnsmál.
"The Horcrux comes first," Harry told him, "If preparations for the Hrafnsmál ritual do not take away from that, then by all means go ahead."
"There are multiple rituals," he confessed, "We have the ability to perform a relatively simple version – there is very little preparation involved. I shall let you know when all is ready."
"Thank you, Ritual Master."
"All Hail the Lord Caer Azkaban! Long May he Rule!" the man pronounced as he was dismissed.
"Any further troubles, Commander?" Harry inquired of the kneeling woman.
"No, My Lord."
"Then you shall join us for lunch." he declared, "We still have those lessons to discuss."
. . .
Despite her objections she did end up sharing his lunch, though she spent most of it lecturing him on tactics in a blatant attempt to justify her presence. She promised to set up something to help him practise that element of his training, and they spent the afternoon in mock duels as she gauged their skill level. She informed them that they were certainly above average, but with plenty of room to improve. She also watched them sparring with singlesticks, and added that they where not far enough along to try casting with one, reminding Harry to make an appointment with the Island Wand maker.
He also demonstrated his muffled wand to the woman, and the muffling spell. Whilst it could be a hindrance in a one-on-one fight, the ability to cast even the most minor of spells unnoticed could prove invaluable to an infiltrator. She promised to consider the tactical implications of the spell after they stopped for the day. Refusing his invitation to dinner they parted at the door to his dining hall.
"You really shouldn't dine with your servants, my Lord." Sable commented as they took their seats, "even if you allow it, it makes them uncomfortable."
"I'm hardly comfortable with all this myself," Harry replied, "The Freak from the Cupboard doesn't deserve a decent dinner, much less an elegant table all to itself. You have done far more to earn this than I have, Sable. If you don't deserve to be seated at this table, then I certainly don't."
"Freak from the Cupboard, master?" Hermione inquired.
"I lived in the Cupboard under the Stairs for a solid decade, with nothing but a threadbare baby blanket to call my own." he replied bluntly, "Thank goodness I never have to go back there again."
His eyes filled with morose memories, he never noticed the glance that Hermione shared with Sable.