Chapter 15
"Harry, you haven't touched your supper," Hermione fussed. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"
"I'm perfectly fine, Hermione." Harry reached across the table for a piece of bread he wasn't particularly interested in eating.
"Yeah, Hermione," Ron said, leaning on his elbows. "You've been brooding over him all day. He's not going to drop dead in front of us."
Hermione, however, continued to monitor Harry as thought that was exactly what he was about to do. "How exactly did it happen again?"
Harry cringed inwardly. The he hated lying to his friends, and he hated being forced to do it repeatedly. "I told you already. I couldn't sleep, so I thought maybe I could sneak to the owlry and send Sirius a letter. I was on my way back when my scar started burning, and I woke up in the hospital wing. Sirius said he found me."
"This can't be good, Harry." Hermione frowned. "I don't think your scar has ever caused something this bad. You-know-who has got to be up to something. Oh, I hope everything is okay. There was nothing in the Daily Prophet this morning, so what could it be?"
Ron sighed at Hermione's relentless rambling. "Just make sure you're healthy for next week, Harry. Quidditch season starts soon, you know." Ron's position as captain was by no means official until he actually made the team. In fact, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia still thought Harry was going to take the job. Still, Ron took his impending role very seriously, which was good. It made him easier to distract.
Hermione, however, wasn't so easily thrown off. She twisted her lip, looking as though she didn't believe a word he said, but accepting the answer for the moment. Not that Harry blamed her, of course. She was right; he'd never had a scar burning leave him feeling as drained as the results of his encounter with Holly, and it showed. He hadn't even tried to stay awake during History of Magic that morning. Besides, he had been blatantly distracted all day long, but what could he tell Hermione and Ron? That he'd been exchanging thoughts all day with his long-lost cousin, who just happened to be somewhere in Hogwarts at that very moment, and could apparently read his mind? Oh, that was a great story. Besides, he had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't say a word.
"Hiya, Harry." Neville sat down next to Harry. "How're you feeling?"
"Fine, Neville. Thanks," Harry replied absently.
"Alright then," he said, not sounding terribly assured, before looking across the table at Hermione. "Prefect meeting is at 7:00, right?"
"I'll meet you in the common room at 6:50," Hermione said casually.
Harry did a double take. "Neville? You're... you're a prefect? Wow, I mean, how come I didn't know? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, Harry," Hermione assumed her lecture mode, "If you had been healthy the past two days, you would have known by now. Neville has been in both of your classes today, but you slept through History of Magic, and were completely distracted in Transfiguration."
"My goodness, I'm sorry Neville. Congratulations. Really."
Neville, for his part, blushed furiously. "I had asked Hermione not to go telling everyone. Not really comfortable with it yet, I suppose. I didn't really want it. I sure didn't bloody expect it. Now, I don't know what to do with it." He turned slightly, and Harry could see the shiny prefect badge perched on the breast of his robes, mostly hidden underneath his folded arms. "Dumbledore's letter said he wanted me as prefect because I'm fair, and level headed. Fair, well, I like to think I am, but there are dozens of people more level-headed than me!" He swallowed nervously. "You should have seen Malfoy in the first meeting last night. He stared at me like a cat who had just found a new mouse."
"Neville," Hermione sighed. "You're going to be just fine. You have just as much authority as Malfoy, and you're a hundred times better than he is. Trust me. You just need to build up your confidence."
Neville's face was pinched, but he nodded resolutely. "I'd better go start on my transfiguration homework." He stood, but paused. "Will you be along to help me later, Hermione?"
"Of course, Neville. I told you I would." She smiled reassuringly at him. He seemed to relax some, and walked away towards the doors. Hermione was just about to go back to eating her pudding when she caught Ron's expression out of the corner of her eye. "Ron, what's gotten into you?"
Ron seemed to not be getting quite enough air just then, and his ears were burning bright red. "Nothing," he choked, "absolutely nothing."
"Alright then, but don't you go getting sick on us too." She rolled her eyes. "Heaven forbid the quidditch team loses you before you even try out."
This seemed to do nothing to calm Ron down.
Hermione turned back to Harry, completely ignoring Ron again, which seemed to only make Ron more frustrated. "And Harry, the team can't afford to lose you either. You still look off-colour to me. Perhaps you should go back to Madam Pomfrey and get a potion or something. Some Pepperup Potion might do the trick."
Harry didn't catch everything Hermione said, for at that moment, a faint voice echoed in the back of his head, reminding him that he had a meeting to attend shortly. "Oh, yes. You're right Hermione," he said distractedly. "Actually, I was going to go back up anyway. Madam Pomfrey's orders. She wanted to check me over one more time. In fact," he looked around the hall, "I should probably be going now."
"But Harry! You haven't eaten!" Hermione protested.
Harry picked himself out of his seat. "I'm not hungry anyway. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to help. Besides," he threw Ron a sympathetic glance, "I think Ron's in worse shape than I am right now."
This distracted Hermione just long enough for Harry to escape. He didn't want to be late. He'd been waiting for this all day.
Harry pushed his way past knots of students leaving the Great Hall, returning to their dormitories for the evening, or to the library. He cringed when he thought of this. The homework was already beginning to pile up, a mere two days into the school year, in anticipation of O.W.L.'s. Hermione had collected the previous day's work for him, and had seemed mildly apologetic when she gave it to him, as thought she almost felt that his rest and recovery were more important than the homework, but not quite. He would get to it soon enough, but not now. Now, there were other, more pressing things to think about.
He turned the corner into the corridor to Dumbledore's office, quickening his pace with every stride. He could just faintly feel the slight, pleasant buzz in the back of his mind, telling him that Holly was already there. He arrived in front of the gargoyle and breathlessly blurted, "Fizzing Whizbee!" The gargoyle leapt aside, and Harry raced up the stairs, not waiting for them to carry him along. He was just reaching for the brass knocker when a friendly thought greeted him.
/You're late./ He could almost hear the amusement.
"Come right in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice sounded from the far side of the door.
The door swung open smoothly, and Harry poked his head into the office. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?"
The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, propping his chin on his hands, eyes twinkling as always from over the tops of his spectacles. "Please, Harry, have a seat."
Harry let himself the rest of the way into the office, and saw that Holly was not the only other occupant in the room aside from Dumbledore. "Sirius!"
His godfather stood and strode over to him, grinning. Sirius leaned down slightly and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, examining his face critically. "You're still too pale. Did you eat?"
"I'm always pale." Harry could feel his cheeks warming a bit in embarrassment. Over Sirius's shoulder, he could see Holly smirking at him.
"No, Sirius, he didn't eat." She chuckled. "He's been too jumpy all day."
"You've been no better," Lupin said to Holly, letting himself into the office and shutting the door behind him. "Except when you fell asleep in the middle of charms practice, you haven't sat still once. Sorry I'm late, Professor Dumbledore."
"Not a problem, not at all," Dumbledore indicated a seat for him. "We haven't even started yet."
Harry ducked out from his godfather's examination and eased his way around into a chair next to Holly's. Sirius blew out a breath in exasperation, and sufficed with leaning against the back of Harry's chair.
Dumbledore watched them all carefully as they settled in, then finally rested his hands flat on the desk in front of him. "I must say, this is quite a sight. This is also quite a complication, if I may say."
"Complication, sir?" Harry ventured.
"Yes, Harry. I'm not exactly sure where to begin, to be honest."
Holly spoke up. "You could start at the beginning," she said critically. "You've kept him in the dark for far too long, and it's high time he got the whole story."
Harry stared at his cousin and felt his jaw drop of its own accord. Sure, that's what he'd been thinking, but he would never have spoken like that to Dumbledore. Well, then again, maybe he would have. Turning back to Dumbledore, Harry wondered how the headmaster would respond to that. To his surprise, Dumbledore merely nodded.
"You're quite right, Holly. Quite right." He turned back to Harry and folded his hands once again beneath his chin. "Harry, earlier this summer, I attempted to explain what I could to you about your family history, about why Voldemort was trying to get to you initially. I regretted at the time that I was unable to give you the whole story, as I, myself, did not have it. Now, I believe I may be able to supply a much more complete rendition."
Harry felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder, and sat, stone-faced, as Dumbledore launched into a detailed explanation of the background behind his story, of his grandfather's overseas romance, the identity of the spy, the need to remain hidden. Throughout the monologue, he noticed Holly nodding slowly, as though hearing Dumbledore explain the whole thing only served to confirm it again in her own mind. Harry felt a twinge of pain race through her, mirroring his own, as Dumbledore recounted the events of the night his parents died. Sirius's hand squeezed his shoulder a bit tighter, reassuring him.
When Dumbledore told of Holly's encounter with the Death Eaters and her narrow escape from the Ministry, Harry found his jaw dropping in disbelief. He turned to Holly, who looked at him out the corner of her eye, straight- faced, and nodded once. When Dumbledore finally stopped speaking, it was Holly who broke the silence first.
"Is it only that you meant to keep us apart because you were afraid the Mind Touch would bleed over to Voldemort?"
Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile. "That was certainly a large part of it, Holly, although we had also intended to prevent you two from injuring yourselves."
Something in Dumbledore's voice caused a warning light to go off in Harry's mind, and he was sure Holly felt it too. They exchanged a cautious glance, and Harry realized it was as though he could feel Dumbledore hiding something, as though he had a partial view into the man's mind. It was strange, and very empowering.
"Sir," she went on, "the first time, I knew you weren't telling me everything, because you said so." She swallowed, as though not wanting to call the headmaster on how he was being not forthcoming. "You're still..."
"Hiding something. Yes, Holly, I am." He sighed. "I would also ask you not to dig further for this answer."
"Why not?" she asked, irritation showing plainly.
"There's no safety in ignorance. Isn't that what your letter said earlier this summer?" Harry seconded. He felt a flash of approval from Holly, encouraging him.
"I did say that, didn't I?" Dumbledore said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully, watching Harry intently.
"Yes, you did," Harry snapped back, pushed on by Holly's silent support. "I thought you were finally going to explain it all, and you do, to a point, only to openly admit that you aren't telling us everything. Why?"
This time, it was Lupin who answered. "Sometimes, the best way to protect a person is by keeping something dangerous away from them."
"What if I'm tired of being protected?" Harry asked. "And in what way dangerous?"
"If this is about the Mind Touch," Holly growled, "then there's not much you can do, because Harry's got it now, and you can't take that from him. He's going to be trained to use it, and once he's trained, it can't be dangerous.
Behind them, Sirius chuckled. "I would never want to get into a debate with the two of you. You argue like a tag-team."
"Fred and George Weasley are worse," Harry said fervently. He turned back to Dumbledore. "So, why is this big secret so dangerous? How could knowing about something hurt?"
Dumbledore sighed. "There are times when mere knowledge is the most dangerous thing, Harry."
"That makes a lot of sense," Holly smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just not going to tell us, no matter what we say, aren't you?"
"I'm afraid I can't, Holly," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry that you even managed to discover that I was hiding something. It would have been easier on you not to have suspected anything at all."
"EASY?!" Holly and Harry yelled at once.
"I've been through hell in the past month, and you're worried about making things easy by hiding stuff from me?" Holly shot at him.
Harry carried on with his own rant. "My parents are dead, Voldemort is after me, AGAIN, and you've been playing me like a puppet for years! Don't talk to me about easy!"
Dumbledore tipped his head forward in silent contemplation. When he finally looked back up, his face was stone. "I never said easy. I said easier. These are dangerous times, and I fear that no matter what is done to prevent certain events from transpiring. When all is said and done, the both of you will be at the epicenter of some of the worst of it. It is only my hope to sway the turnout for the better. What I can not emphasize strongly enough is the fact that protecting you is not merely for your own good. You are both now part of a larger fight."
"Then why are we holed up here, being coddled like some delicate little flowers that might break in a hard wind?" Holly cut in sharply. "Why aren't we fighting then, if this is such an important thing, and we're already a part of it?"
"First of all," Lupin clapped Holly on the shoulder, "You're not trained in the basic arts of wizarding and witchcraft. That's my job. You'll be getting tutorials from the professors here, but I'll be getting you up to snuff."
"Second," Sirius ruffled Harry's hair, "you're still underage. Don't look at me like that, Harry. I know what you're capable of, and I know you can handle it, but you're still in school, and for now, we need you here."
Harry vainly tried to flatten his ruffled hair.
"Third," Holly filled in, "You've got to train Harry to use the Mind Touch, and I've got to learn about it too, so that way we can use it to fight. Right?"
Dumbledore's hard expression fell slightly. "Not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly?" Holly challenged.
"I mean that we shall be training Harry to use it, to control it, as we shall also be working with you, but not to fight." Dumbledore's eyes were sharp as he gazed over his spectacles at Holly's infuriated expression. "Please hear me out before you condemn this decision. The Mind Touch is far more complex than just the simple ability to read minds, as you might have already begun to suspect, Holly, and as I told Harry earlier this summer. The power to alter other people's perceptions and memories, to create thoughts that feel like their own but aren't... those can be used for many different purposes. You can see why Voldemort would desire such power."
"Absolute control," Lupin summarized the thought, "on a much greater scale than the Imperious Curse."
"That... that could be used for some terrible Dark Magic," Harry whispered, shrinking into his chair slightly.
"Yes, it could," Dumbledore said simply.
"Wait," Holly interrupted. "Mr. Ollivander, back at the wand shop, he said something like that. He said that the power my family has, and I assume he meant the Mind Touch, has done great things, both terrible and good. Professor Dumbledore, what was he talking about? What has the Mind Touch done in the past?"
Dumbledore looked at her with sad eyes. "We don't have all of those answers yet, Holly. An effort is being made to recover the history behind this ability, but it is far from complete."
"What do you know so far?" she asked, her voice hard.
"Not very much, I'm afraid." Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him.
"Well," Harry snapped, "Why don't you tell her what you do know, instead of keeping her in the dark like you did with me? I'd like to know too, seeing as I'm now stuck with this bloody talent as well. If it's all the same, I'd just as soon get rid of it."
/You and me both, Harry/ whispered in the back of his mind.
/You said it, Holly/ he agreed, then reconsidered. /I do like being able to hear you though./
She smiled at him in understanding, then turned back to Dumbledore, her glare once again icy. "Well?"
"What I can tell you, and essentially all that we know for certain, is that the Mind Touch has changed the course of the wizarding world three times, and we suspect that they were all related incidents. We're trying to prevent a fourth such incident."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Holly asked suspiciously.
"By teaching you both, first and foremost, to turn this ability off."
"What?" Harry jumped in his seat.
Holly went a bit further and actually heaved herself from the chair. "No! That's not right! Harry needs to learn to use this, as a weapon if needed. It might save him from Voldemort someday!"
"Holly," Lupin made a move to get up from his chair, "please calm down."
"Why the hell should I calm down? If Harry is the high-profile target you claim he is, then why shouldn't he have every weapon at his disposal?"
"Because," Dumbledore said softly, "if Harry can not turn this ability off, then it is far more likely to be used as a weapon against him, than as an effective defense for him."
Holly stared at him, stunned silent, then slowly sank back into her chair. "Oh."
"It would also not stop at Harry. You do understand this."
She nodded sullenly.
"There are still things we have to protect the two of you which make the chances of Voldemort reaching you quite slim, but it is still an ever- present threat." Dumbledore sighed deeply and his shoulders slumped a bit. "This is why I am going to ask you to do one more thing for me in order to safeguard the two of you."
"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Harry asked.
/Because you probably won't./ came a silent answer.
Dumbledore shook his head, then looked slowly from Harry to Holly. "I am going to ask you to allow me to partially block your bond."
Harry tried to jump out of his seat, but Sirius's hand held him firmly in place. Holly merely sat there, eyes blazing fury. "No," she said.
"It is up to you, of course, but consider this. It would be impossible to block the bond entirely, and I could never completely break it, so the connection you feel will not disappear. However, if I do not block it at all, and you have not allowed yourselves time to properly train this ability, you run the risk of injuring each other unintentionally."
Some of the fire faded from Holly's eyes, but she pressed further. "What else?"
"Also," Dumbledore continued, "you significantly increase the probability that Voldemort will find either of you, and if he finds one of you, he will find the other."
Holly didn't need to ask for clarification on that point.
/That's probably a bad thing, wouldn't you say?/ Harry's thoughts echoed in her mind, but he sounded bitter about the concession.
/I suppose so, but... / Holly searched Dumbledore's face questioningly. "How would you do it? Block the bond that is?"
"The same way your grandmother shielded you all those years ago." He pointed at her neck. "That pendant you wear, Holly, had a very strong magical shield on it. That is why you and Harry were in the same building for several hours without the bond fully manifesting itself. When your hands touched, it broke through that shield. I would simply be putting it back in place. Can you agree to that?"
Harry and Holly looked at each other.
/What do you think?/ Holly asked.
Harry twisted his lip. /I think he's not telling us everything, but he is telling the truth./
/I know you trust him, and I feel strongly that he believes this is the best way to protect us, but the idea of being protected still bothers me./
/I know exactly what you mean./ Harry rolled his eyes. /And I've been putting up with this from him for years./
/Ha! If you want to hear about "overprotective," let me tell you about my father sometime. He was worse, and a Muggle./
/I'll match you story for story with my Uncle Vernon./ He smirked.
/You're on./ Holly chuckled.
"I'm glad you two are enjoying your private conference here, but I would like to know your decision sometime tonight," Dumbledore said softly.
Harry and Holly both grinned sheepishly. "Yes sir," they said at the same time.
They looked back at each other again, but then Holly closed her eyes and reached under her collar to pull out the pendant. The silver lion shone in her hand, and Harry leaned in closer to see it. /A lion?/ Harry asked.
/Our grandfather gave it to my grandmother a long time ago, then my grandmother gave it to me before she disappeared./ Her fingers traced the words etched in the back of the metal. /It's engraved. I'll show it to you, but we really do need to give him an answer first./ She inclined her head towards Dumbledore.
/Well./ Harry mused, /I could feel you even before we broke through the shielding charm, and even if he puts it back, it's not permanent, as we proved./ He bit his lower lip. /Voldemort killed our parents, and he's got the potential to kill many more people... /
/ ...and the last thing we should do is give him any more chances of killing anyone else./ Her eyes bit fiercely into Harry's. /While I live and breathe, I won't let him take you. Over my dead body./
/Don't talk like that, but I know what you mean./ He sighed. /So, we agree?/
Holly nodded her head once sharply, then answered for both of them. "Okay, we'll do it, on one condition. Let us have a few minutes to ourselves to talk first. We've missed fifteen years. Give us at least that many minutes to catch up."
"Holly, you will both have many future opportunities to speak with each other..." Dumbledore started to say, only to be cut off by Holly.
"No. NOW." Her voice left no room for question. "Either that, or not at all. Or did you simply assume we'd agree anyway?"
The headmaster sighed. "You're right." He pulled out his golden watch. "The prefect meeting begins in forty-five minutes. I must attend tonight, and to be safe, it may take me up to ten minutes to properly perform the charm."
"We understand," Harry conceded. "Just over a half hour then?"
Dumbledore nodded to him and slowly pulled himself out of his chair. "We shall return in a half hour." His face finally softened into a smile. He opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated. When he finally did speak, it appeared as though he had meant to say something else, but had changed his mind. "I'm glad for you. Both of you. It is good to see two Potters in one room again. You both carry the name very well."
He pulled out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, a plate of sandwiches and biscuits appeared along with a flagon of pumpkin juice. "It would also be good to see that neither of you end up in the hospital wing because you passed from not eating."
Harry flushed with embarrassment, hand subconsciously covering the spot on his arm which he imagined was still sore from the needle. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Holly making a similar gesture. "Yes sir," he said.
Dumbledore ushered Sirius and Remus out first, Sirius throwing back a fond glance at Harry and Remus winking at Holly, then shut the door behind all three of them, leaving Harry and Holly alone in the office.
"A half hour. That's not much time to catch up on fifteen years," Holly grumbled.
"Yeah, but it's not as if we won't see each other," Harry pointed out.
"True. It's a spell, not a lobotomy."
Harry looked at her questioningly, to which Holly replied with a sheepish grin, "Never mind. Before they come back, do you have any idea what Dumbledore was talking about? With the Mind Touch having altered the course of wizard history? I don't know anything about this stuff."
"I'm as lost as you are, I think." Harry scratched his chin. "I've never heard anything about it in History of Magic class. I don't think Professor Bimms would ever talk about something that interesting. In fact, I'd never heard about it until this summer."
"If it makes you feel any better, neither had I, and I've had it my entire life." She smirked at herself. "Makes it sound like some sort of strange disease."
Pantomiming the act of writing something on a clipboard, she adopted an analytical pose. "Let's see here. Voices inside you head? Check. Prophetic dreams of lost relatives? Check. Sudden jump into an imaginary world of magic, witches, and wizards? Check." She glanced up at Harry, who was stifling a chuckle. "Prognosis: Either it's the Mind Touch, or I'm schizophrenic."
Harry sobered up a bit. "Given the choice, it's got to be the Mind Touch. I'd like to think that if I were imagining a whole world, it would be a bit more pleasant that this. At least, either way, I'm not completely alone anymore, whether it's all in my mind or not."
Holly smiled enigmatically. "Just because something's all in your mind doesn't mean it's not real."
Harry shook his head in a cross between amusement and disbelief. "You must have driven people crazy when you were younger."
"I still do," she winked.
"I wonder what would happen if we turned you loose on Snape," Harry mused.
"Who?"
"Never mind, I'm sure you'll meet that greasy git soon enough. Back to business, right?" Holly nodded, and Harry continued to speak. "You said you'd met Mr. Ollivander?"
"Yes, when I went to get my wand. Creepy chap."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll say he is. You said he told you that the Mind Touch had been used for good things and terrible things. Did he say anything else about it?"
"No, completely vague on the topic. Why?"
Harry leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. "He said something like that about Voldemort... and me. He said he could expect great things from me because Voldemort had done great things, terrible things, but great, and we have wands with the same core. I wonder if it has anything to do with what he told you."
"Who knows." Holly leaned forward in imitation of Harry. "It sounds like something similar. He used the same phrasing almost?" Harry nodded. Holly twisted her lip in concentration. "That bloke knows more than he lets on, I'm sure of it."
"Did you pick his brain?" Harry asked playfully, but Holly frowned at him.
"No, I didn't, and that's the strange thing. I couldn't. I can usually read people better if I look at their eyes, somewhat like looking right into their minds. Trying to look through Ollivander's eyes was like trying to see through concrete. He knew my name though, even though he had never met me. He knew Bram too."
"Bram?" Harry sat bolt upright. "The raven that talks?"
Holly also jumped in her chair. "Wait, you know her too? How?"
"Bram paid me a visit over the summer, while I was still at my aunt and uncle's house." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny black feather. "She left me this, and I've been keeping it for luck."
Holly looked as though she barely heard him. Instead of responding, she reached into her robes and pulled out her own wand, then stared back and forth between it and the feather in Harry's hand.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, alarmed by Holly's inexplicable behavior.
"That's one of Bram's feathers?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, I just told you so. Why?"
"Nothing, really. I just think it's strange," she twiddled her wand in her hands, staring off at the floor beyond it, wondering where Bram was, why Harry had a feather, and if she'd ever make sense of any of this.
"May I see that?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing to her wand as though recognizing something.
"Sure, I suppose." Holly leaned across, holding out the wand.
Harry took the wand and held it near the feather. "The feather is tingling... a bit warm. This is strange." He pocketed the feather, fumbled through his robes, and pulled out what looked to be a nearly identical wand to Holly's. "Wow," he whispered, admiring them side by side. "Eleven inches, like mine. What's it made of? Mine's made of holly," he eyed her strangely, "and phoenix feather."
"Blackthorn, actually. It's blackthorn and raven feather. One of Bram's feathers. That's probably why your feather tingled in your hand."
"Raven feather in a wand?" Harry asked incredulously. "But they're not magical..." he hesitated. "Are they?"
Holly flashed a half-grin at him. "Bram is no ordinary raven."
Harry was about to ask what she meant when a soft trill sounded from the far side of the office. Fawkes was weaving back and forth on his perch, switching from leg to leg, bobbing his head.
"Oh yeah!" Holly smiled. "And Fawkes knew her too!"
Harry slowly handed Holly's wand back to her, then sat still for a moment, trying to let the new information sift through his brain. Holly knows Fawkes. Fawkes knows Bram. Bram knows Ollivander. Ollivander knew Holly's name. Ollivander knew a lot more than that, it also seemed. "It's strange," he mused, trying to distract himself from the vortex of random thoughts, "I almost expected us to have nearly the same wand. They look alike, but underneath it all, they're really quite different, aren't they?"
"Perhaps they are. I'll have to look up the symbolism of blackthorn and holly more closely, but I can tell you this. Bram is apparently part phoenix."
"That's... that's... you're kidding."
Fawkes trilled again, soft music filling the air, confirming Holly's story.
Holly shook her head. "Ollivander told me that a long time ago, a raven and a phoenix, well, 'hooked up,' for lack of better terms. Apparently, there are ravens with phoenix magic in them, and Bram is one of those. It makes sense, because I've been wondering just how old Bram actually is."
Harry nodded dumbly. "I wish Hermione was here," he mumbled.
"Who's that?"
Harry started to say, "Don't you know?" but realized that even though he felt strangely as though he had known the woman sitting next to him all his life, he hadn't. "Hermione is one of my best friends, and probably one of the most clever people I've ever met. She... wait a minute. If anyone can figure this out, it's Hermione!"
"Figure what out, specifically?"
"All the stuff they're trying to keep from us!" Harry said excitedly. "Hermione is brilliant. She's been going through this book Mrs. Figg gave me, it belonged to Voldemort, and something in that book didn't match common knowledge. She found something about the Mind Touch. One of the founders, Ravenclaw, might have had it! I wasn't even thinking about... I'll bet Hermione can even... oh. Damn, I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Tell Hermione about any of this. I swore to Dumbledore I wouldn't tell her about you." He glanced at her sullenly. "He said it was a risk."
"More secrets," Holly sighed. "More cover-ups. I don't like this."
"Neither do I, but do we have much of a choice?"
"Perhaps we do. Dumbledore said not to tell your friends about me. However, that doesn't mean you can't ask her for help indirectly." She winked.
"You know, Hermione is always hunting for some new academic interest." Harry grinned broadly. "I'm sure I can do something. I'll have to look through that book myself, too. In fact..."
"What?" She raised an eyebrow.
"I must have really done some damage to my brain or something. I can't believe I didn't notice this." He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead at the revelation. "Ravenclaw might have had the Mind Touch. Hell, that might even be one of the history-altering things Dumbledore was talking about! Slytherin; she used it to force Salazar Slytherin out of the school, at least, that's what we think." Harry's voice raised a pitch, but the frenzied overtones dropped again rapidly. He made a fist and pounded it into the arm of his chair. "But what good does that do us? Even if we figure out what those three changes in the course of wizarding history were, it's not the specific thing Dumbledore is hiding, is it? This doesn't get us any closer to figuring out what that is, and just as strangely, why it's so important that they hide it to protect us."
"Yes, but it's a clue," Holly said in a comforting voice. "We just need to keep looking for clues. I wish I could just read it from Dumbledore's mind, but I get the impression I wouldn't be able to."
"I know what you mean." Harry sighed deeply. "Did he say anything? Anything at all that had to do with the Mind Touch?"
"Only what he's told the both of us. It was used by my grandmother to spy during the war, and then..." she blinked. "The night Voldemort went after you. Do you think that could be it? Those are the three incidents?"
"It makes sense... You never think of history as having anything to do with you in such a direct way, but with this, it looks like it's personal." Harry said softly, but his voice was tight. "But it still doesn't tell us what he's hiding, so add those to the list of possible clues I'll slip to Hermione. Whatever this mystery thing is, it feels like it's something..."
"...that would appear utterly insignificant were it not for the fact that Dumbledore is convinced it could kill us," Holly said flatly. "How comforting."
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
They both fell silent for a minute, not really thinking, slightly overwhelmed by everything.
"It's too much to think about all at once," Harry mumbled, then turned his head to look at Holly. "What about that necklace? You said you'd show it to me?"
Holly's shoulders relaxed. "Sure. Come over here."
Harry scooted over and sat on the arm of Holly's chair as she reached into the neckline of her robes and pulled out the pendant, then held it out.
Harry took it delicately in his hands, traced over the lion's head. "I suppose my grandfather was a Gryffindor, too."
"Probably. The Sorting Hat said I'd had a long line of relatives in Gryffindor house." Before Harry could ask, she pointed at the pendant still lying in his hand. "Flip it over. It's engraved."
Harry nodded, turned the pendant over in his hand, and leaned close to read it aloud in the soft light of the office. "To Jan, my love forever, Harry Potter." He looked back up slowly. "I was named after him," he said quietly. "That feels weird, to see my name there like that."
Holly reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. If this makes it seem even more strange, I've worn that pendant since I was five years old, and I never had a clue who you were. People mistook me for you from a distance, and I thought, for some insane reason, that they were mistaking me for my grandfather, even though rationally I knew he would have to have been quite old by now."
She reached up and plucked the pendant gently out of his hand and laid it against her tunic. "I took my last name from that pendant. Aside from my father's name, which I had refused to keep, it was the only surname I knew in my family line."
"And that's why you go by 'Potter'?"
She nodded.
Harry sighed and leaned back against the chair, eyes closed, his arm brushing lightly against Holly's shoulder, letting his mind drift again. It was so peaceful, so comfortable, to have a real family member in the same room, but he knew it couldn't last. Nothing good in his life ever did last. Pushing back the thought, he let a different thought take its place. It was strange that this person, who had been nothing but a face in a dream a few weeks before, was now flesh and blood, sitting next to him. Even more strange was the fact that it felt perfectly natural in that dream to reach out and touch the hand of her image on the far side of the mirror. Just as it had felt perfectly natural to reach for her when the dream and reality collided. Even if he'd known what would happen next, he doubted that he could have resisted.
/I don't think I could have stopped either/ came the voice in the back of his mind.
Harry opened his eyes and peered down into Holly's. /That was pretty strange, wasn't it?/
Holly nodded. /You know, it was worth it though. At least it was to me./
/I know what you mean. Right before we blacked out, if you felt what I felt, that was just phenomenal./
/Yeah,/ she chuckled softly. /It was as if I was a live electrical wire. Unfortunately, neither of us were quite ready to handle that kind of voltage./
Harry hesitated. /Do you think... it would happen the same way? If we... tried that again?/
Holly looked at him critically. /No, because I brushed against your hand when I gave you the pendant and nothing really happened. We've already activated the bond./
Harry grinned. /Are you thinking what I'm thinking?/
This time, Holly laughed heartily aloud. /Isn't that what we've been doing all along?/
Harry joined her laughter, but they both quieted quickly, becoming somber, almost nervous. It was like a child daring to touch an electric fence after receiving one solid jolt. This time, however, they were assuming the wire had been grounded. Harry held up his right hand and brought it up to meet the palm of Holly's left hand.
With a scant few centimeters separating the palms of their hands, they could feel a tingly warmth building in the gap. This time, however, there was no blurring of vision, no rushing sounds in their ears. It felt more that a soothing blanket of energy had started spreading up their arms, raising hairs along the way, but it was by no means unpleasant. Harry felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and brought his eyes up to meet Holly's to find that she was also smiling. "Wicked," he breathed.
They finally bridged the last centimeter, feeling the electric sensation climb past their arms and completely engulf them, but this time, it didn't overwhelm them. Green eyes met brown, and Harry found that he wasn't quite sure where his mind ended and Holly's began. In a rush, he learned more things about her than he thought he knew about himself. Wooden beams and copper pots from the kitchen of her childhood home, her crush on a boy named Jonathan when she had been twelve, the look on her grandmother's face when she had said goodbye, her intense dislike for her father and bitter regret over his passing, the first time she had spoken to a snake, and the nightmares of her mother's death. All these flooded through Harry like the warm sting of driving monsoon rains. Likewise, he was sure she was learning about him in the same way. He hadn't thought closeness like this to another human being was possible.
Suddenly, another vision overrode the rest. He wasn't sure if he saw it in Holly's eyes, in his own, or completely in the confines of his mind, but suddenly, blood-red eyes were staring back into his own, piercing him. His scar started to burn, causing his eyes to water, and he whipped his hand away from Holly's in reflex and pressed it to his scar.
A sharp thud informed him that he had landed on the floor next to the chair. As the pain subsided, he felt a hand gripping his arm.
"Harry? Are you ok?" Holly's voice was breathless and slightly pained.
Harry rolled onto his back, squinting against the remnants of the pain in his forehead, and looked up. "I'm fine," he said, pushing himself into a seated position. "What happened?"
"You know as well as I do." She was rubbing her own forehead and temple as though trying to ward off a migraine, and looking mildly dazed as though that was exactly what she had. "That was Voldemort."
Harry nodded bitterly. What a way to ruin a family reunion. He shoved that thought aside as a twinge of concern caught him. He reached up to touch Holly's hand, which was still rubbing furiously at her head. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," she snapped. "It's just another damned headache."
As Harry watched her, understanding dawned on him. She had felt every bit of it, the pain he'd always associated with his scar. He glanced up briefly at her unmarred forehead, chiding himself for thinking something so silly. Of course he was the only one stuck with that peculiar mark, but for somebody else, anybody else, to have felt the pain, to understand what it was like for him when Voldemort's presence touched him...
The instant he thought that he liked for someone to know how it felt, to share such pain, he mentally slapped himself for thinking such a terrible thing. Nobody else should have to feel it. It was bad enough for him, but now, for someone else to be dragged into it, it wasn't right. With a sinking heart, he realized that Dumbledore was right. They needed to block the bond, if it wasn't already too late.
"Let's not tell them this happened," Harry said softly.
Holly looked at him as her hand finally dropped away from her face. "Agreed." She held out her hand. "Want a hand up?"
She hauled him to his feet, and they stood for a moment, not making eye contact, but just quietly taking in each other's presence, hands still clasped.
"I should probably go get Dumbledore," Holly said.
Harry nodded. He didn't like it, but they needed to. Holly made to drop his hand, but Harry didn't let go. Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug so sudden that it took Holly several seconds to return it. They stood still, arms wrapped securely around each other's shoulders, as though it could force the whole world away.
They finally released each other at the same time. As Harry readjusted his glasses on his face, he realized they'd been fogged with tears. The embrace reminded him of when Mrs. Weasley had hugged him, like a mother, the first time he'd really felt the kind of affection most people are fortunate enough to get from their families. He quickly turned to the side, removed his glasses, and wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Too late, I already saw you," she teased.
Harry replaced his glasses, and saw, to his relief, that Holly was also somewhat teary-eyed. "Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically.
"Anytime. Now," she sighed, "I'll go get Dumbledore."
As Holly stuck her head out the door and called for the headmaster, Harry wondered to himself how on earth, with everything that had just happened, he was going to be able to handle the stack of homework waiting for him that night. Or quidditch. Or his two very inquisitive friends who would be waiting for him when he returned to the Gryffindor common room that night.
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A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience! I've been working hard on both Eclipse and TPL. Thank you also for continuing to read this story, even though OotP has already come out.
Just to whet your appetites for the next chapter, we'll be going to Care of Magical Creatures class. This term, they'll be studying Magical Ornithology. Look it up! The trio will get a chance to talk to Hagrid. The Gryffindors are still stuck with the Slytherins. Harry will begin prodding Hermione with clues. Quidditch season is coming up fast too. Polish up your broomsticks and get ready to play!
"Harry, you haven't touched your supper," Hermione fussed. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"
"I'm perfectly fine, Hermione." Harry reached across the table for a piece of bread he wasn't particularly interested in eating.
"Yeah, Hermione," Ron said, leaning on his elbows. "You've been brooding over him all day. He's not going to drop dead in front of us."
Hermione, however, continued to monitor Harry as thought that was exactly what he was about to do. "How exactly did it happen again?"
Harry cringed inwardly. The he hated lying to his friends, and he hated being forced to do it repeatedly. "I told you already. I couldn't sleep, so I thought maybe I could sneak to the owlry and send Sirius a letter. I was on my way back when my scar started burning, and I woke up in the hospital wing. Sirius said he found me."
"This can't be good, Harry." Hermione frowned. "I don't think your scar has ever caused something this bad. You-know-who has got to be up to something. Oh, I hope everything is okay. There was nothing in the Daily Prophet this morning, so what could it be?"
Ron sighed at Hermione's relentless rambling. "Just make sure you're healthy for next week, Harry. Quidditch season starts soon, you know." Ron's position as captain was by no means official until he actually made the team. In fact, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia still thought Harry was going to take the job. Still, Ron took his impending role very seriously, which was good. It made him easier to distract.
Hermione, however, wasn't so easily thrown off. She twisted her lip, looking as though she didn't believe a word he said, but accepting the answer for the moment. Not that Harry blamed her, of course. She was right; he'd never had a scar burning leave him feeling as drained as the results of his encounter with Holly, and it showed. He hadn't even tried to stay awake during History of Magic that morning. Besides, he had been blatantly distracted all day long, but what could he tell Hermione and Ron? That he'd been exchanging thoughts all day with his long-lost cousin, who just happened to be somewhere in Hogwarts at that very moment, and could apparently read his mind? Oh, that was a great story. Besides, he had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't say a word.
"Hiya, Harry." Neville sat down next to Harry. "How're you feeling?"
"Fine, Neville. Thanks," Harry replied absently.
"Alright then," he said, not sounding terribly assured, before looking across the table at Hermione. "Prefect meeting is at 7:00, right?"
"I'll meet you in the common room at 6:50," Hermione said casually.
Harry did a double take. "Neville? You're... you're a prefect? Wow, I mean, how come I didn't know? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, Harry," Hermione assumed her lecture mode, "If you had been healthy the past two days, you would have known by now. Neville has been in both of your classes today, but you slept through History of Magic, and were completely distracted in Transfiguration."
"My goodness, I'm sorry Neville. Congratulations. Really."
Neville, for his part, blushed furiously. "I had asked Hermione not to go telling everyone. Not really comfortable with it yet, I suppose. I didn't really want it. I sure didn't bloody expect it. Now, I don't know what to do with it." He turned slightly, and Harry could see the shiny prefect badge perched on the breast of his robes, mostly hidden underneath his folded arms. "Dumbledore's letter said he wanted me as prefect because I'm fair, and level headed. Fair, well, I like to think I am, but there are dozens of people more level-headed than me!" He swallowed nervously. "You should have seen Malfoy in the first meeting last night. He stared at me like a cat who had just found a new mouse."
"Neville," Hermione sighed. "You're going to be just fine. You have just as much authority as Malfoy, and you're a hundred times better than he is. Trust me. You just need to build up your confidence."
Neville's face was pinched, but he nodded resolutely. "I'd better go start on my transfiguration homework." He stood, but paused. "Will you be along to help me later, Hermione?"
"Of course, Neville. I told you I would." She smiled reassuringly at him. He seemed to relax some, and walked away towards the doors. Hermione was just about to go back to eating her pudding when she caught Ron's expression out of the corner of her eye. "Ron, what's gotten into you?"
Ron seemed to not be getting quite enough air just then, and his ears were burning bright red. "Nothing," he choked, "absolutely nothing."
"Alright then, but don't you go getting sick on us too." She rolled her eyes. "Heaven forbid the quidditch team loses you before you even try out."
This seemed to do nothing to calm Ron down.
Hermione turned back to Harry, completely ignoring Ron again, which seemed to only make Ron more frustrated. "And Harry, the team can't afford to lose you either. You still look off-colour to me. Perhaps you should go back to Madam Pomfrey and get a potion or something. Some Pepperup Potion might do the trick."
Harry didn't catch everything Hermione said, for at that moment, a faint voice echoed in the back of his head, reminding him that he had a meeting to attend shortly. "Oh, yes. You're right Hermione," he said distractedly. "Actually, I was going to go back up anyway. Madam Pomfrey's orders. She wanted to check me over one more time. In fact," he looked around the hall, "I should probably be going now."
"But Harry! You haven't eaten!" Hermione protested.
Harry picked himself out of his seat. "I'm not hungry anyway. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to help. Besides," he threw Ron a sympathetic glance, "I think Ron's in worse shape than I am right now."
This distracted Hermione just long enough for Harry to escape. He didn't want to be late. He'd been waiting for this all day.
Harry pushed his way past knots of students leaving the Great Hall, returning to their dormitories for the evening, or to the library. He cringed when he thought of this. The homework was already beginning to pile up, a mere two days into the school year, in anticipation of O.W.L.'s. Hermione had collected the previous day's work for him, and had seemed mildly apologetic when she gave it to him, as thought she almost felt that his rest and recovery were more important than the homework, but not quite. He would get to it soon enough, but not now. Now, there were other, more pressing things to think about.
He turned the corner into the corridor to Dumbledore's office, quickening his pace with every stride. He could just faintly feel the slight, pleasant buzz in the back of his mind, telling him that Holly was already there. He arrived in front of the gargoyle and breathlessly blurted, "Fizzing Whizbee!" The gargoyle leapt aside, and Harry raced up the stairs, not waiting for them to carry him along. He was just reaching for the brass knocker when a friendly thought greeted him.
/You're late./ He could almost hear the amusement.
"Come right in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice sounded from the far side of the door.
The door swung open smoothly, and Harry poked his head into the office. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?"
The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, propping his chin on his hands, eyes twinkling as always from over the tops of his spectacles. "Please, Harry, have a seat."
Harry let himself the rest of the way into the office, and saw that Holly was not the only other occupant in the room aside from Dumbledore. "Sirius!"
His godfather stood and strode over to him, grinning. Sirius leaned down slightly and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, examining his face critically. "You're still too pale. Did you eat?"
"I'm always pale." Harry could feel his cheeks warming a bit in embarrassment. Over Sirius's shoulder, he could see Holly smirking at him.
"No, Sirius, he didn't eat." She chuckled. "He's been too jumpy all day."
"You've been no better," Lupin said to Holly, letting himself into the office and shutting the door behind him. "Except when you fell asleep in the middle of charms practice, you haven't sat still once. Sorry I'm late, Professor Dumbledore."
"Not a problem, not at all," Dumbledore indicated a seat for him. "We haven't even started yet."
Harry ducked out from his godfather's examination and eased his way around into a chair next to Holly's. Sirius blew out a breath in exasperation, and sufficed with leaning against the back of Harry's chair.
Dumbledore watched them all carefully as they settled in, then finally rested his hands flat on the desk in front of him. "I must say, this is quite a sight. This is also quite a complication, if I may say."
"Complication, sir?" Harry ventured.
"Yes, Harry. I'm not exactly sure where to begin, to be honest."
Holly spoke up. "You could start at the beginning," she said critically. "You've kept him in the dark for far too long, and it's high time he got the whole story."
Harry stared at his cousin and felt his jaw drop of its own accord. Sure, that's what he'd been thinking, but he would never have spoken like that to Dumbledore. Well, then again, maybe he would have. Turning back to Dumbledore, Harry wondered how the headmaster would respond to that. To his surprise, Dumbledore merely nodded.
"You're quite right, Holly. Quite right." He turned back to Harry and folded his hands once again beneath his chin. "Harry, earlier this summer, I attempted to explain what I could to you about your family history, about why Voldemort was trying to get to you initially. I regretted at the time that I was unable to give you the whole story, as I, myself, did not have it. Now, I believe I may be able to supply a much more complete rendition."
Harry felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder, and sat, stone-faced, as Dumbledore launched into a detailed explanation of the background behind his story, of his grandfather's overseas romance, the identity of the spy, the need to remain hidden. Throughout the monologue, he noticed Holly nodding slowly, as though hearing Dumbledore explain the whole thing only served to confirm it again in her own mind. Harry felt a twinge of pain race through her, mirroring his own, as Dumbledore recounted the events of the night his parents died. Sirius's hand squeezed his shoulder a bit tighter, reassuring him.
When Dumbledore told of Holly's encounter with the Death Eaters and her narrow escape from the Ministry, Harry found his jaw dropping in disbelief. He turned to Holly, who looked at him out the corner of her eye, straight- faced, and nodded once. When Dumbledore finally stopped speaking, it was Holly who broke the silence first.
"Is it only that you meant to keep us apart because you were afraid the Mind Touch would bleed over to Voldemort?"
Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile. "That was certainly a large part of it, Holly, although we had also intended to prevent you two from injuring yourselves."
Something in Dumbledore's voice caused a warning light to go off in Harry's mind, and he was sure Holly felt it too. They exchanged a cautious glance, and Harry realized it was as though he could feel Dumbledore hiding something, as though he had a partial view into the man's mind. It was strange, and very empowering.
"Sir," she went on, "the first time, I knew you weren't telling me everything, because you said so." She swallowed, as though not wanting to call the headmaster on how he was being not forthcoming. "You're still..."
"Hiding something. Yes, Holly, I am." He sighed. "I would also ask you not to dig further for this answer."
"Why not?" she asked, irritation showing plainly.
"There's no safety in ignorance. Isn't that what your letter said earlier this summer?" Harry seconded. He felt a flash of approval from Holly, encouraging him.
"I did say that, didn't I?" Dumbledore said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully, watching Harry intently.
"Yes, you did," Harry snapped back, pushed on by Holly's silent support. "I thought you were finally going to explain it all, and you do, to a point, only to openly admit that you aren't telling us everything. Why?"
This time, it was Lupin who answered. "Sometimes, the best way to protect a person is by keeping something dangerous away from them."
"What if I'm tired of being protected?" Harry asked. "And in what way dangerous?"
"If this is about the Mind Touch," Holly growled, "then there's not much you can do, because Harry's got it now, and you can't take that from him. He's going to be trained to use it, and once he's trained, it can't be dangerous.
Behind them, Sirius chuckled. "I would never want to get into a debate with the two of you. You argue like a tag-team."
"Fred and George Weasley are worse," Harry said fervently. He turned back to Dumbledore. "So, why is this big secret so dangerous? How could knowing about something hurt?"
Dumbledore sighed. "There are times when mere knowledge is the most dangerous thing, Harry."
"That makes a lot of sense," Holly smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just not going to tell us, no matter what we say, aren't you?"
"I'm afraid I can't, Holly," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry that you even managed to discover that I was hiding something. It would have been easier on you not to have suspected anything at all."
"EASY?!" Holly and Harry yelled at once.
"I've been through hell in the past month, and you're worried about making things easy by hiding stuff from me?" Holly shot at him.
Harry carried on with his own rant. "My parents are dead, Voldemort is after me, AGAIN, and you've been playing me like a puppet for years! Don't talk to me about easy!"
Dumbledore tipped his head forward in silent contemplation. When he finally looked back up, his face was stone. "I never said easy. I said easier. These are dangerous times, and I fear that no matter what is done to prevent certain events from transpiring. When all is said and done, the both of you will be at the epicenter of some of the worst of it. It is only my hope to sway the turnout for the better. What I can not emphasize strongly enough is the fact that protecting you is not merely for your own good. You are both now part of a larger fight."
"Then why are we holed up here, being coddled like some delicate little flowers that might break in a hard wind?" Holly cut in sharply. "Why aren't we fighting then, if this is such an important thing, and we're already a part of it?"
"First of all," Lupin clapped Holly on the shoulder, "You're not trained in the basic arts of wizarding and witchcraft. That's my job. You'll be getting tutorials from the professors here, but I'll be getting you up to snuff."
"Second," Sirius ruffled Harry's hair, "you're still underage. Don't look at me like that, Harry. I know what you're capable of, and I know you can handle it, but you're still in school, and for now, we need you here."
Harry vainly tried to flatten his ruffled hair.
"Third," Holly filled in, "You've got to train Harry to use the Mind Touch, and I've got to learn about it too, so that way we can use it to fight. Right?"
Dumbledore's hard expression fell slightly. "Not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly?" Holly challenged.
"I mean that we shall be training Harry to use it, to control it, as we shall also be working with you, but not to fight." Dumbledore's eyes were sharp as he gazed over his spectacles at Holly's infuriated expression. "Please hear me out before you condemn this decision. The Mind Touch is far more complex than just the simple ability to read minds, as you might have already begun to suspect, Holly, and as I told Harry earlier this summer. The power to alter other people's perceptions and memories, to create thoughts that feel like their own but aren't... those can be used for many different purposes. You can see why Voldemort would desire such power."
"Absolute control," Lupin summarized the thought, "on a much greater scale than the Imperious Curse."
"That... that could be used for some terrible Dark Magic," Harry whispered, shrinking into his chair slightly.
"Yes, it could," Dumbledore said simply.
"Wait," Holly interrupted. "Mr. Ollivander, back at the wand shop, he said something like that. He said that the power my family has, and I assume he meant the Mind Touch, has done great things, both terrible and good. Professor Dumbledore, what was he talking about? What has the Mind Touch done in the past?"
Dumbledore looked at her with sad eyes. "We don't have all of those answers yet, Holly. An effort is being made to recover the history behind this ability, but it is far from complete."
"What do you know so far?" she asked, her voice hard.
"Not very much, I'm afraid." Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him.
"Well," Harry snapped, "Why don't you tell her what you do know, instead of keeping her in the dark like you did with me? I'd like to know too, seeing as I'm now stuck with this bloody talent as well. If it's all the same, I'd just as soon get rid of it."
/You and me both, Harry/ whispered in the back of his mind.
/You said it, Holly/ he agreed, then reconsidered. /I do like being able to hear you though./
She smiled at him in understanding, then turned back to Dumbledore, her glare once again icy. "Well?"
"What I can tell you, and essentially all that we know for certain, is that the Mind Touch has changed the course of the wizarding world three times, and we suspect that they were all related incidents. We're trying to prevent a fourth such incident."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Holly asked suspiciously.
"By teaching you both, first and foremost, to turn this ability off."
"What?" Harry jumped in his seat.
Holly went a bit further and actually heaved herself from the chair. "No! That's not right! Harry needs to learn to use this, as a weapon if needed. It might save him from Voldemort someday!"
"Holly," Lupin made a move to get up from his chair, "please calm down."
"Why the hell should I calm down? If Harry is the high-profile target you claim he is, then why shouldn't he have every weapon at his disposal?"
"Because," Dumbledore said softly, "if Harry can not turn this ability off, then it is far more likely to be used as a weapon against him, than as an effective defense for him."
Holly stared at him, stunned silent, then slowly sank back into her chair. "Oh."
"It would also not stop at Harry. You do understand this."
She nodded sullenly.
"There are still things we have to protect the two of you which make the chances of Voldemort reaching you quite slim, but it is still an ever- present threat." Dumbledore sighed deeply and his shoulders slumped a bit. "This is why I am going to ask you to do one more thing for me in order to safeguard the two of you."
"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Harry asked.
/Because you probably won't./ came a silent answer.
Dumbledore shook his head, then looked slowly from Harry to Holly. "I am going to ask you to allow me to partially block your bond."
Harry tried to jump out of his seat, but Sirius's hand held him firmly in place. Holly merely sat there, eyes blazing fury. "No," she said.
"It is up to you, of course, but consider this. It would be impossible to block the bond entirely, and I could never completely break it, so the connection you feel will not disappear. However, if I do not block it at all, and you have not allowed yourselves time to properly train this ability, you run the risk of injuring each other unintentionally."
Some of the fire faded from Holly's eyes, but she pressed further. "What else?"
"Also," Dumbledore continued, "you significantly increase the probability that Voldemort will find either of you, and if he finds one of you, he will find the other."
Holly didn't need to ask for clarification on that point.
/That's probably a bad thing, wouldn't you say?/ Harry's thoughts echoed in her mind, but he sounded bitter about the concession.
/I suppose so, but... / Holly searched Dumbledore's face questioningly. "How would you do it? Block the bond that is?"
"The same way your grandmother shielded you all those years ago." He pointed at her neck. "That pendant you wear, Holly, had a very strong magical shield on it. That is why you and Harry were in the same building for several hours without the bond fully manifesting itself. When your hands touched, it broke through that shield. I would simply be putting it back in place. Can you agree to that?"
Harry and Holly looked at each other.
/What do you think?/ Holly asked.
Harry twisted his lip. /I think he's not telling us everything, but he is telling the truth./
/I know you trust him, and I feel strongly that he believes this is the best way to protect us, but the idea of being protected still bothers me./
/I know exactly what you mean./ Harry rolled his eyes. /And I've been putting up with this from him for years./
/Ha! If you want to hear about "overprotective," let me tell you about my father sometime. He was worse, and a Muggle./
/I'll match you story for story with my Uncle Vernon./ He smirked.
/You're on./ Holly chuckled.
"I'm glad you two are enjoying your private conference here, but I would like to know your decision sometime tonight," Dumbledore said softly.
Harry and Holly both grinned sheepishly. "Yes sir," they said at the same time.
They looked back at each other again, but then Holly closed her eyes and reached under her collar to pull out the pendant. The silver lion shone in her hand, and Harry leaned in closer to see it. /A lion?/ Harry asked.
/Our grandfather gave it to my grandmother a long time ago, then my grandmother gave it to me before she disappeared./ Her fingers traced the words etched in the back of the metal. /It's engraved. I'll show it to you, but we really do need to give him an answer first./ She inclined her head towards Dumbledore.
/Well./ Harry mused, /I could feel you even before we broke through the shielding charm, and even if he puts it back, it's not permanent, as we proved./ He bit his lower lip. /Voldemort killed our parents, and he's got the potential to kill many more people... /
/ ...and the last thing we should do is give him any more chances of killing anyone else./ Her eyes bit fiercely into Harry's. /While I live and breathe, I won't let him take you. Over my dead body./
/Don't talk like that, but I know what you mean./ He sighed. /So, we agree?/
Holly nodded her head once sharply, then answered for both of them. "Okay, we'll do it, on one condition. Let us have a few minutes to ourselves to talk first. We've missed fifteen years. Give us at least that many minutes to catch up."
"Holly, you will both have many future opportunities to speak with each other..." Dumbledore started to say, only to be cut off by Holly.
"No. NOW." Her voice left no room for question. "Either that, or not at all. Or did you simply assume we'd agree anyway?"
The headmaster sighed. "You're right." He pulled out his golden watch. "The prefect meeting begins in forty-five minutes. I must attend tonight, and to be safe, it may take me up to ten minutes to properly perform the charm."
"We understand," Harry conceded. "Just over a half hour then?"
Dumbledore nodded to him and slowly pulled himself out of his chair. "We shall return in a half hour." His face finally softened into a smile. He opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated. When he finally did speak, it appeared as though he had meant to say something else, but had changed his mind. "I'm glad for you. Both of you. It is good to see two Potters in one room again. You both carry the name very well."
He pulled out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, a plate of sandwiches and biscuits appeared along with a flagon of pumpkin juice. "It would also be good to see that neither of you end up in the hospital wing because you passed from not eating."
Harry flushed with embarrassment, hand subconsciously covering the spot on his arm which he imagined was still sore from the needle. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Holly making a similar gesture. "Yes sir," he said.
Dumbledore ushered Sirius and Remus out first, Sirius throwing back a fond glance at Harry and Remus winking at Holly, then shut the door behind all three of them, leaving Harry and Holly alone in the office.
"A half hour. That's not much time to catch up on fifteen years," Holly grumbled.
"Yeah, but it's not as if we won't see each other," Harry pointed out.
"True. It's a spell, not a lobotomy."
Harry looked at her questioningly, to which Holly replied with a sheepish grin, "Never mind. Before they come back, do you have any idea what Dumbledore was talking about? With the Mind Touch having altered the course of wizard history? I don't know anything about this stuff."
"I'm as lost as you are, I think." Harry scratched his chin. "I've never heard anything about it in History of Magic class. I don't think Professor Bimms would ever talk about something that interesting. In fact, I'd never heard about it until this summer."
"If it makes you feel any better, neither had I, and I've had it my entire life." She smirked at herself. "Makes it sound like some sort of strange disease."
Pantomiming the act of writing something on a clipboard, she adopted an analytical pose. "Let's see here. Voices inside you head? Check. Prophetic dreams of lost relatives? Check. Sudden jump into an imaginary world of magic, witches, and wizards? Check." She glanced up at Harry, who was stifling a chuckle. "Prognosis: Either it's the Mind Touch, or I'm schizophrenic."
Harry sobered up a bit. "Given the choice, it's got to be the Mind Touch. I'd like to think that if I were imagining a whole world, it would be a bit more pleasant that this. At least, either way, I'm not completely alone anymore, whether it's all in my mind or not."
Holly smiled enigmatically. "Just because something's all in your mind doesn't mean it's not real."
Harry shook his head in a cross between amusement and disbelief. "You must have driven people crazy when you were younger."
"I still do," she winked.
"I wonder what would happen if we turned you loose on Snape," Harry mused.
"Who?"
"Never mind, I'm sure you'll meet that greasy git soon enough. Back to business, right?" Holly nodded, and Harry continued to speak. "You said you'd met Mr. Ollivander?"
"Yes, when I went to get my wand. Creepy chap."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll say he is. You said he told you that the Mind Touch had been used for good things and terrible things. Did he say anything else about it?"
"No, completely vague on the topic. Why?"
Harry leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. "He said something like that about Voldemort... and me. He said he could expect great things from me because Voldemort had done great things, terrible things, but great, and we have wands with the same core. I wonder if it has anything to do with what he told you."
"Who knows." Holly leaned forward in imitation of Harry. "It sounds like something similar. He used the same phrasing almost?" Harry nodded. Holly twisted her lip in concentration. "That bloke knows more than he lets on, I'm sure of it."
"Did you pick his brain?" Harry asked playfully, but Holly frowned at him.
"No, I didn't, and that's the strange thing. I couldn't. I can usually read people better if I look at their eyes, somewhat like looking right into their minds. Trying to look through Ollivander's eyes was like trying to see through concrete. He knew my name though, even though he had never met me. He knew Bram too."
"Bram?" Harry sat bolt upright. "The raven that talks?"
Holly also jumped in her chair. "Wait, you know her too? How?"
"Bram paid me a visit over the summer, while I was still at my aunt and uncle's house." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny black feather. "She left me this, and I've been keeping it for luck."
Holly looked as though she barely heard him. Instead of responding, she reached into her robes and pulled out her own wand, then stared back and forth between it and the feather in Harry's hand.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, alarmed by Holly's inexplicable behavior.
"That's one of Bram's feathers?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, I just told you so. Why?"
"Nothing, really. I just think it's strange," she twiddled her wand in her hands, staring off at the floor beyond it, wondering where Bram was, why Harry had a feather, and if she'd ever make sense of any of this.
"May I see that?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing to her wand as though recognizing something.
"Sure, I suppose." Holly leaned across, holding out the wand.
Harry took the wand and held it near the feather. "The feather is tingling... a bit warm. This is strange." He pocketed the feather, fumbled through his robes, and pulled out what looked to be a nearly identical wand to Holly's. "Wow," he whispered, admiring them side by side. "Eleven inches, like mine. What's it made of? Mine's made of holly," he eyed her strangely, "and phoenix feather."
"Blackthorn, actually. It's blackthorn and raven feather. One of Bram's feathers. That's probably why your feather tingled in your hand."
"Raven feather in a wand?" Harry asked incredulously. "But they're not magical..." he hesitated. "Are they?"
Holly flashed a half-grin at him. "Bram is no ordinary raven."
Harry was about to ask what she meant when a soft trill sounded from the far side of the office. Fawkes was weaving back and forth on his perch, switching from leg to leg, bobbing his head.
"Oh yeah!" Holly smiled. "And Fawkes knew her too!"
Harry slowly handed Holly's wand back to her, then sat still for a moment, trying to let the new information sift through his brain. Holly knows Fawkes. Fawkes knows Bram. Bram knows Ollivander. Ollivander knew Holly's name. Ollivander knew a lot more than that, it also seemed. "It's strange," he mused, trying to distract himself from the vortex of random thoughts, "I almost expected us to have nearly the same wand. They look alike, but underneath it all, they're really quite different, aren't they?"
"Perhaps they are. I'll have to look up the symbolism of blackthorn and holly more closely, but I can tell you this. Bram is apparently part phoenix."
"That's... that's... you're kidding."
Fawkes trilled again, soft music filling the air, confirming Holly's story.
Holly shook her head. "Ollivander told me that a long time ago, a raven and a phoenix, well, 'hooked up,' for lack of better terms. Apparently, there are ravens with phoenix magic in them, and Bram is one of those. It makes sense, because I've been wondering just how old Bram actually is."
Harry nodded dumbly. "I wish Hermione was here," he mumbled.
"Who's that?"
Harry started to say, "Don't you know?" but realized that even though he felt strangely as though he had known the woman sitting next to him all his life, he hadn't. "Hermione is one of my best friends, and probably one of the most clever people I've ever met. She... wait a minute. If anyone can figure this out, it's Hermione!"
"Figure what out, specifically?"
"All the stuff they're trying to keep from us!" Harry said excitedly. "Hermione is brilliant. She's been going through this book Mrs. Figg gave me, it belonged to Voldemort, and something in that book didn't match common knowledge. She found something about the Mind Touch. One of the founders, Ravenclaw, might have had it! I wasn't even thinking about... I'll bet Hermione can even... oh. Damn, I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Tell Hermione about any of this. I swore to Dumbledore I wouldn't tell her about you." He glanced at her sullenly. "He said it was a risk."
"More secrets," Holly sighed. "More cover-ups. I don't like this."
"Neither do I, but do we have much of a choice?"
"Perhaps we do. Dumbledore said not to tell your friends about me. However, that doesn't mean you can't ask her for help indirectly." She winked.
"You know, Hermione is always hunting for some new academic interest." Harry grinned broadly. "I'm sure I can do something. I'll have to look through that book myself, too. In fact..."
"What?" She raised an eyebrow.
"I must have really done some damage to my brain or something. I can't believe I didn't notice this." He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead at the revelation. "Ravenclaw might have had the Mind Touch. Hell, that might even be one of the history-altering things Dumbledore was talking about! Slytherin; she used it to force Salazar Slytherin out of the school, at least, that's what we think." Harry's voice raised a pitch, but the frenzied overtones dropped again rapidly. He made a fist and pounded it into the arm of his chair. "But what good does that do us? Even if we figure out what those three changes in the course of wizarding history were, it's not the specific thing Dumbledore is hiding, is it? This doesn't get us any closer to figuring out what that is, and just as strangely, why it's so important that they hide it to protect us."
"Yes, but it's a clue," Holly said in a comforting voice. "We just need to keep looking for clues. I wish I could just read it from Dumbledore's mind, but I get the impression I wouldn't be able to."
"I know what you mean." Harry sighed deeply. "Did he say anything? Anything at all that had to do with the Mind Touch?"
"Only what he's told the both of us. It was used by my grandmother to spy during the war, and then..." she blinked. "The night Voldemort went after you. Do you think that could be it? Those are the three incidents?"
"It makes sense... You never think of history as having anything to do with you in such a direct way, but with this, it looks like it's personal." Harry said softly, but his voice was tight. "But it still doesn't tell us what he's hiding, so add those to the list of possible clues I'll slip to Hermione. Whatever this mystery thing is, it feels like it's something..."
"...that would appear utterly insignificant were it not for the fact that Dumbledore is convinced it could kill us," Holly said flatly. "How comforting."
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
They both fell silent for a minute, not really thinking, slightly overwhelmed by everything.
"It's too much to think about all at once," Harry mumbled, then turned his head to look at Holly. "What about that necklace? You said you'd show it to me?"
Holly's shoulders relaxed. "Sure. Come over here."
Harry scooted over and sat on the arm of Holly's chair as she reached into the neckline of her robes and pulled out the pendant, then held it out.
Harry took it delicately in his hands, traced over the lion's head. "I suppose my grandfather was a Gryffindor, too."
"Probably. The Sorting Hat said I'd had a long line of relatives in Gryffindor house." Before Harry could ask, she pointed at the pendant still lying in his hand. "Flip it over. It's engraved."
Harry nodded, turned the pendant over in his hand, and leaned close to read it aloud in the soft light of the office. "To Jan, my love forever, Harry Potter." He looked back up slowly. "I was named after him," he said quietly. "That feels weird, to see my name there like that."
Holly reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. If this makes it seem even more strange, I've worn that pendant since I was five years old, and I never had a clue who you were. People mistook me for you from a distance, and I thought, for some insane reason, that they were mistaking me for my grandfather, even though rationally I knew he would have to have been quite old by now."
She reached up and plucked the pendant gently out of his hand and laid it against her tunic. "I took my last name from that pendant. Aside from my father's name, which I had refused to keep, it was the only surname I knew in my family line."
"And that's why you go by 'Potter'?"
She nodded.
Harry sighed and leaned back against the chair, eyes closed, his arm brushing lightly against Holly's shoulder, letting his mind drift again. It was so peaceful, so comfortable, to have a real family member in the same room, but he knew it couldn't last. Nothing good in his life ever did last. Pushing back the thought, he let a different thought take its place. It was strange that this person, who had been nothing but a face in a dream a few weeks before, was now flesh and blood, sitting next to him. Even more strange was the fact that it felt perfectly natural in that dream to reach out and touch the hand of her image on the far side of the mirror. Just as it had felt perfectly natural to reach for her when the dream and reality collided. Even if he'd known what would happen next, he doubted that he could have resisted.
/I don't think I could have stopped either/ came the voice in the back of his mind.
Harry opened his eyes and peered down into Holly's. /That was pretty strange, wasn't it?/
Holly nodded. /You know, it was worth it though. At least it was to me./
/I know what you mean. Right before we blacked out, if you felt what I felt, that was just phenomenal./
/Yeah,/ she chuckled softly. /It was as if I was a live electrical wire. Unfortunately, neither of us were quite ready to handle that kind of voltage./
Harry hesitated. /Do you think... it would happen the same way? If we... tried that again?/
Holly looked at him critically. /No, because I brushed against your hand when I gave you the pendant and nothing really happened. We've already activated the bond./
Harry grinned. /Are you thinking what I'm thinking?/
This time, Holly laughed heartily aloud. /Isn't that what we've been doing all along?/
Harry joined her laughter, but they both quieted quickly, becoming somber, almost nervous. It was like a child daring to touch an electric fence after receiving one solid jolt. This time, however, they were assuming the wire had been grounded. Harry held up his right hand and brought it up to meet the palm of Holly's left hand.
With a scant few centimeters separating the palms of their hands, they could feel a tingly warmth building in the gap. This time, however, there was no blurring of vision, no rushing sounds in their ears. It felt more that a soothing blanket of energy had started spreading up their arms, raising hairs along the way, but it was by no means unpleasant. Harry felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and brought his eyes up to meet Holly's to find that she was also smiling. "Wicked," he breathed.
They finally bridged the last centimeter, feeling the electric sensation climb past their arms and completely engulf them, but this time, it didn't overwhelm them. Green eyes met brown, and Harry found that he wasn't quite sure where his mind ended and Holly's began. In a rush, he learned more things about her than he thought he knew about himself. Wooden beams and copper pots from the kitchen of her childhood home, her crush on a boy named Jonathan when she had been twelve, the look on her grandmother's face when she had said goodbye, her intense dislike for her father and bitter regret over his passing, the first time she had spoken to a snake, and the nightmares of her mother's death. All these flooded through Harry like the warm sting of driving monsoon rains. Likewise, he was sure she was learning about him in the same way. He hadn't thought closeness like this to another human being was possible.
Suddenly, another vision overrode the rest. He wasn't sure if he saw it in Holly's eyes, in his own, or completely in the confines of his mind, but suddenly, blood-red eyes were staring back into his own, piercing him. His scar started to burn, causing his eyes to water, and he whipped his hand away from Holly's in reflex and pressed it to his scar.
A sharp thud informed him that he had landed on the floor next to the chair. As the pain subsided, he felt a hand gripping his arm.
"Harry? Are you ok?" Holly's voice was breathless and slightly pained.
Harry rolled onto his back, squinting against the remnants of the pain in his forehead, and looked up. "I'm fine," he said, pushing himself into a seated position. "What happened?"
"You know as well as I do." She was rubbing her own forehead and temple as though trying to ward off a migraine, and looking mildly dazed as though that was exactly what she had. "That was Voldemort."
Harry nodded bitterly. What a way to ruin a family reunion. He shoved that thought aside as a twinge of concern caught him. He reached up to touch Holly's hand, which was still rubbing furiously at her head. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," she snapped. "It's just another damned headache."
As Harry watched her, understanding dawned on him. She had felt every bit of it, the pain he'd always associated with his scar. He glanced up briefly at her unmarred forehead, chiding himself for thinking something so silly. Of course he was the only one stuck with that peculiar mark, but for somebody else, anybody else, to have felt the pain, to understand what it was like for him when Voldemort's presence touched him...
The instant he thought that he liked for someone to know how it felt, to share such pain, he mentally slapped himself for thinking such a terrible thing. Nobody else should have to feel it. It was bad enough for him, but now, for someone else to be dragged into it, it wasn't right. With a sinking heart, he realized that Dumbledore was right. They needed to block the bond, if it wasn't already too late.
"Let's not tell them this happened," Harry said softly.
Holly looked at him as her hand finally dropped away from her face. "Agreed." She held out her hand. "Want a hand up?"
She hauled him to his feet, and they stood for a moment, not making eye contact, but just quietly taking in each other's presence, hands still clasped.
"I should probably go get Dumbledore," Holly said.
Harry nodded. He didn't like it, but they needed to. Holly made to drop his hand, but Harry didn't let go. Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug so sudden that it took Holly several seconds to return it. They stood still, arms wrapped securely around each other's shoulders, as though it could force the whole world away.
They finally released each other at the same time. As Harry readjusted his glasses on his face, he realized they'd been fogged with tears. The embrace reminded him of when Mrs. Weasley had hugged him, like a mother, the first time he'd really felt the kind of affection most people are fortunate enough to get from their families. He quickly turned to the side, removed his glasses, and wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Too late, I already saw you," she teased.
Harry replaced his glasses, and saw, to his relief, that Holly was also somewhat teary-eyed. "Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically.
"Anytime. Now," she sighed, "I'll go get Dumbledore."
As Holly stuck her head out the door and called for the headmaster, Harry wondered to himself how on earth, with everything that had just happened, he was going to be able to handle the stack of homework waiting for him that night. Or quidditch. Or his two very inquisitive friends who would be waiting for him when he returned to the Gryffindor common room that night.
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A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience! I've been working hard on both Eclipse and TPL. Thank you also for continuing to read this story, even though OotP has already come out.
Just to whet your appetites for the next chapter, we'll be going to Care of Magical Creatures class. This term, they'll be studying Magical Ornithology. Look it up! The trio will get a chance to talk to Hagrid. The Gryffindors are still stuck with the Slytherins. Harry will begin prodding Hermione with clues. Quidditch season is coming up fast too. Polish up your broomsticks and get ready to play!
