AN: Author's notes at the bottom, since you've been waiting far too long for this chapter already.
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The winds died, fading slowly into nothingness, though the mysterious light remained on the open book in front of Harry, who, for his part, could only stare at it. Young Seeker? What did that mean? And what Bout would he win by it?
Harry kneeled down peering warily at the Portkey book, whose black words shone darkly in the tower of light emanating from it. He inched his hand toward the light and tentatively waved it through the brilliant beam, though he was unsure as to why he should be more paranoid about the light than the book itself. When nothing happened he glanced at his watch, which had caught some of the magical light and he noted that it was getting late in the evening. If he was going to touch the Portkey, he hadn't a lot of time to waste.
"Harry…"
Harry exhaled sharply at the echo trickling down the long, dark corridor to the library. He whipped around to face the door, snatching his hand away from the book. He must have been gone for quite a while if someone was looking for him now. He looked between the Portkey and the library door, indecisive.
"Harry…where are you…are you…are you?" the echo, distorted from the distance, returned. Harry shook his head and scrambled to his feet, walking swiftly to the door to get to his worried friends. However, he could not resist one last glance at the Portkey book on the way out; he stopped at what he saw. The beam of light coming from the book had shrunk to about a third of its original width, and its luminescence had dulled. Still facing the book, Harry walked several paces backwards toward the door; the light grew smaller and smaller and dulled even more as he went away from it.
"Harry!" The echo's volume and clarity had increased this time; his friends were getting close to the library corridor. For some instinctual reason, Harry didn't want anyone else to know about it; not the library, the Portkey book, or even the mysterious letter from Sirius that begat this entire crusade. He turned from the book and ran out of library.
He closed the door as carefully and quietly as he could; he didn't want to alert anyone to his location by the loud BOOM that would result from it slamming shut. He was about to reach his hands out to the walls once more before he realized he could actually see into the dark somewhat. He now saw what his hands had only felt on the way in–the walls were of undecorated, unnaturally smooth, cold stone. He noticed that the floor was of hardwood, but covered through the center with a long, intricate rug that was obviously passed its prime. He was glad of this fact, for his running steps would surely have been heard along hardwood flooring.
"Harry…" the echo came, more quiet than before; they must have passed by the unobtrusive corridor. Harry felt relieved and slowed down a bit to catch his breath, not wanting to make obvious the fact that he'd been running for so long a distance without his friends hearing. That could lead to demanded explanations of his whereabouts, and he had not yet thought up a plausible excuse.
Harry saw the light at the end of the hall long before he actually reached it. In fact, it seemed that he was getting no nearer at all for a few minutes, and he found himself coming out of it quite before he even knew what was going on. He wiped the surprise off his face quickly, however, as Ron and Hermione had just come out of a room further down the hallway. They were about to continue in the wrong direction when Ron spotted Harry.
"There you are, Harry!" he said, and the two rushed over to their wayward friend. "We've been looking all over for you, mate, where've you been?"
"I know, I heard you guys calling a few minutes ago and I've been following your voices," which wasn't a lie, thought Harry, who ignored Ron's question. "It's easy to get lost in this place, isn't it?"
"I'll say," said Hermione, and Harry couldn't tell if she'd picked up on the dodge or not. "But don't worry, Harry, you'll get used to it."
"I should hope so," said Harry. "I'd hate to be stuck wandering endless corridors during dinner!"
Ron chuckled. "Which was exactly what you've been doing! Mum's nearly finished with the cooking, so we came to tell you and bring you downstairs. Didn't you notice the time?"
Harry's stomach answered his friend with a loud grumble. He smiled slightly in embarrassment, and Ron and Hermione laughed. "Guess I lost track of time, didn't I?" said Harry.
"Well, come on then boys," said Hermione, "before the others eat our share."
"Others?" said Harry, walking between his two best friends as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. In all his hours of wandering, he hadn't seen a single other person throughout the whole of Grimmauld Place.
"Yeah," said Ron, "the Order members have been coming here in flocks lately. Some stay for meals, some just pass through, but I don't recognize the lot either way."
"Ron, you're not making things much clearer," said Hermione at Harry's confused face. "The Order's recruited a lot of new members since last summer, Harry. As this is their Headquarters, they have to come here for instructions and reports."
Harry nodded. Ron and Hermione began bickering and he fell a few paces behind them. So, the Order had new recruits, did it? Well, thought Harry, that was a relief. The more people capable of taking out Death Eaters and the like, the better the odds became of winning (or at least surviving) the Second War.
Harry noticed they were almost to the kitchen door, so he sped up to Ron and Hermione. Attempting to lighten his mood as well as those of his friends (who were still arguing), he said, "Come on, you guys, quit your yammering. We're about to eat, after all!"
"Is that all you can think about?" said Hermione. "Honestly, you spend too much time with Ron."
"And you spend too much time with us," said Ron, though he looked mildly proud and nostalgic. "D'you realize how close you are to being Marauder-status?"
"Humph," said Hermione, though she was fighting a flush of pride as she did so. Harry half-smiled as they entered the kitchen, inwardly glad that he still appeared relatively normal to his best friends. If they didn't see anything unusual about him, they wouldn't ask questions he didn't want to answer.
"Harry, there you are!" A familiar woman's voice from an unfamiliar woman was all the warning Harry had before he was caught and thoroughly stuck in a rib-crunching hug. A choking plea for air and a gasped apology later found a liberated Harry staring at the unusual features of his assailant; she had long, blood red locks of sleek hair, a pale complexion, and a rather prominent nose.
"Tonks, I presume?" he said, knowing the power and habit of change the Metamorphmagus had. With a smile, the young female Auror screwed up her face in concentration and molded her features back to normal.
"Sorry about that, Harry," she said, "but the last time I saw you was when Remus brought you back, and…you weren't quite…I dunno–sane."
"Tonks!" another female voice admonished fiercely, "Bite your tongue!" Molly Weasley quickly put the pot of hot food she'd been carrying onto the long wooden table in the middle of the room, strode over to the group still crowding the doorway, and enveloped Harry in an only slightly less bone-crushing hug. Unlike Tonks, however, Mrs. Weasley quickly let him go in favor of a loud tirade typical of a relived parent.
"Harry, dear, where have you been? We've been so worried! You were in such a state, and then off you go, disappearing to who knows where, and without telling anybody! What were you thinking?"
And for the second time that evening, Harry's stomach replied where his voice failed with a loud gurgle. Mrs. Weasley blinked and went silent–that is, until Tonks began laughing and sent her into mother-hen mode.
"Oh, Harry, you haven't eaten anything yet! Come on, come sit at the table and I'll get you your dinner." She bustled Harry over to a chair, Ron, Hermione, and Tonks following along and trying to suppress their mirth at Harry's face.
Despite the claims of Ron and Hermione, no new Order members attended the meal. Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt were there, as were Ginny and Arthur Weasley, and everyone got to talking around Harry, who remained silent while effectively stuffing his face.
There was an abrupt knock on the kitchen doorframe, and Harry looked up to see Lupin come in. "Sorry I'm late, Molly, I got a little carried away with the research," he said, crossing the room.
"Of what?" said Ron, who sat on Harry's right.
"Never you mind," said Mrs. Weasley with a stern glare in Ron's direction. She turned to Lupin. "Don't worry about it, Remus. The food's still warm; let me fix you up a plate."
"Thank you, Molly," he said with a relieved smile, and took a seat next to Moody. Harry had followed Lupin's movements all along, still chewing silently. He wanted to ask him about what had happened the day he'd been brought back to Grimmauld Place, but not at the table where everyone could hear them. With a resolute swallow, he decided to approach Lupin after dinner and ask to speak with him privately.
Since Lupin had only just sat down, Harry slowed down the rapid shoveling of food into his mouth. When Ron and Hermione got up to leave and asked if he was coming, he told them to go ahead without him as he wasn't finished eating. Ron had laughed and said, "Harry, I think you'd have out-eaten Hagrid by now if he were here!" and left with Hermione.
When Lupin got up, so did Harry. Lupin looked about to go off with Moody, so Harry tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, a questioning look on his face, Harry found he rather didn't know what to say. "Erm, could I, er…talk to you? In private?"
Lupin's eyebrows lifted a little in surprise at the sudden request, but he said, "Sure, Harry. We'll finish this later, Alastor." Moody nodded and strode off, clunking every other step. Lupin turned back to Harry and motioned for him to follow. "Come with me."
Harry followed his former professor into the drawing room, where Lupin proceeded to close the doors. He smiled at Harry and said, "So, what's on your mind, Harry?"
"Er…well, I was just wondering if you'd tell me…you know, what, erm, happened the other day, exactly," he said awkwardly.
Lupin's expression turned serious. "You don't remember anything?"
Harry shook his head. "No, just that two Death Eaters came to the house, but they were disguised with Polyjuice Potion, and…the woman, I Stunned her…Bellatrix," he finished with a growl.
Lupin sighed. "Yes, you did. But things got bad from there."
"I don't care what the other one did to me, as long as I got her," said Harry with a withering glare fixed determinedly at the wall before him.
Lupin gave him a sharp look. "That's a dangerous philosophy to have, Harry. To put yourself in danger for the sake of revenge can only lead to your destruction, in one way or another."
Harry fixed his stare onto his old professor and said nothing. Lupin met his gaze and continued with his explanation of events: "The second Death Eater put you under the Cruciatus Curse and held you there for three and a half minutes. It only takes seven to drive a fully grown wizard insane, and about five for one your age."
Harry knew this already, but was reluctant to tell Lupin that the man invading his head had told him this fact. However, knowing that Dirk had been right about the facts so far made Harry consider the fact that the Portkey book might have some merit, and that at least he knew he wasn't mad and hallucinating.
"When the Death Eater cursed you, you fell in front of the door and…we couldn't get to you that way," Lupin swallowed with some difficulty, and his face grew strained and appeared more careworn. "We broke through the window and Stunned him. You…you didn't respond to anything I said, but you still recognized me. I thought for a good while that…you might have been lost, or close to it. You were out for three days…."
Lupin drew in a shuddery breath and looked away; Harry's eyes widened. He'd almost been driven mad by some random, unknown Death Eater! And he'd been unconscious for three days? No wonder he was so hungry at dinner, he thought somewhat darkly. Snapping back into the present, Harry realized he'd never seen Lupin acting like this before–the closest he'd seen Lupin come to this kind of painful sorrow was when Sirius had died….
Harry stepped in front of Lupin and waited for him to relinquish his averted gaze. When he did, Harry grabbed his left hand. I'm still here, he told Lupin without words. He was surprised when he found himself in the werewolf's one-armed embrace.
"Harry," he said painfully, "you're all I have left. I…couldn't handle anything happening to you." Meanwhile Harry, who had never been good with hugs, didn't know what to say or do. He settled for tightening his grasp on Lupin's hand and patting him rather awkwardly on the shoulder.
To continue the initial conversation (though mostly to save the both of them from drowning in memories of Sirius Black), Harry said, "What happened after you came in? And who was there? Besides you, I mean."
Lupin, who'd finally let go of Harry, said, "Moody was there, along with Tonks again, though she'd gone to cover the back door and didn't know what'd happened until I brought you back here. Three of the new Order members, Aurors, came along as well since we didn't know how many Death Eaters we'd find."
"Were there any more around the house?" said Harry.
"No, it was just those two," said Lupin, and he frowned in confusion. "One would think Voldemort would have sent more than just two Death Eaters to fetch you."
"Fetch?" said Harry.
"Yes. After you'd been brought here, we, that is, Tonks, Moody, and I, went to the Ministry with the other Aurors to witness the interrogation. Under Veritaserum, Bellatrix admitted that their orders had been only to check up on you, if you'll believe it."
"Check up on me!" said Harry incredulously. "What, to make sure I was feeling all right?"
Lupin smiled. "No, actually they were gauging your powers. Apparently, Voldemort has been feeling odd magical goings-on coming from you lately. The Death Eaters told us that he'd said you might be getting spells put on you, and that he'd wanted to see if they were more forms of protection. They were told to check you out for magical signatures, but to be wary of actually cursing you for fear of possible accidental activation."
"The other Death Eater did say something about 'being wary' of me and 'remembering orders'," said Harry. "But then why did he use the Cruciatus on me if they were told not to curse me?"
"Actually, they were told to be careful with you until they could be certain there were no protection spells on you. He didn't detect any, and when you stunned that woman he acted accordingly. Well, as a result, your watch alerted us to the trouble. But it took us too long to get to number four; the anti-Apparation wards on your house are the only ones our specialized Portkeys can't get through."
"What?" said Harry, amazed at his bad luck. "Why not?"
"Well," said Lupin, "these Portkeys are specialized in that they are not trained on any specific place–they are trained on you. Unfortunately, these Portkeys can't get through blood magic, as they work by destroying the foundation of the wards–and that would be you in this case, the very person they were made to protect."
Harry blinked. "Oh." He blinked again, thinking. "So, who was the other Death Eater, anyway? I mean, you found out after the Polyjuice wore off, didn't you?"
"No, we didn't." At Harry's unbelieving expression, Lupin continued. "After I Stunned him, we were focused on getting you away from the premises. No one was really keeping watch over him, as he was unconscious. When the Aurors went to collect him, he was gone."
"What d'you mean, 'gone'? He was knocked out!" said Harry.
Lupin shook his head. "No one knows. I don't see how it's possible myself, but the fact is he was there one moment and gone the next."
"Well that's bollocks," Harry grumbled. He was silent for a moment as he mulled things over in his head. "Hang on," he said, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly remembered something. "Didn't Dumbledore say that I had to stay in Privet Drive because it gave me protection from people like them, the Death Eaters?"
Lupin sighed wearily. "Yes, and he was quite right. Unfortunately, under further questioning, Bellatrix revealed that Voldemort had found out how one goes about infiltrating the wards created by your blood connection to Petunia."
"What?" Harry hissed, tensing in indignation. "The deranged, murderous maniac that's after my life found out how my only protection works before I did? I thought after last year no one would keep secrets from me!"
"Shh, I know, Harry," said Lupin as he motioned for Harry to lower his voice and glanced at the closed doors across the room. He sighed. "I know. We just haven't had enough time–"
"What, like the time you spent the whole day at the Dursleys'? You know, that day when all that mysterious and dangerous magic had been possessing me, and you came to ensure my safety?" said Harry scathingly.
"Harry, I'm sorry," said Lupin, looking apologetically into Harry's narrowed eyes. "We were heavily occupied with something else." He looked as though he was debating something inside for a moment before setting his jaw and continuing. "We suspect that we have a spy in our midst."
Harry calmed down some and his eyes widened a bit. "A spy? In the Order of the Phoenix?"
"I'm afraid so," said Lupin, "That's the only way Voldemort could have possibly found out how to pass the wards on your house."
"Oh yeah," said Harry, brows lowering once more, "about that. Care to tell me how they work? I mean, now that I can't go back there, it's no longer important, potentially life-saving information for you to keep from me."
"You'll be able to go back, Harry," said Lupin, thoroughly disregarding the last part of Harry's sentence.
"Joy," Harry mumbled under his breath.
"Essentially, the wards are not very complex," said Lupin, "just very strong and very permanent. They're even stronger with your aunt in the house, which is a great coincidence since she stays at home; and your cousin helps a bit in strengthening them as well, as he's also related to you by blood."
"Wow, Dudley's constant laying about the house is actually good for something," said Harry.
"Yes, it is," said Lupin seriously. "And lastly, the basic rule of the wards is that no magical person intending you harm can enter the house without permission."
"Well the Death Eaters certainly picked a good time to show up, as Aunt Petunia and Dudley were gone."
"Yes, they did a fine job of luring your relatives out of the house. They were gone all day," said Lupin.
"Lured out?" said Harry sharply. "Are they–are they, er,–"
"They're fine, Harry," said Lupin. "They weren't lured into Death Eaters' hands; the idea of a sudden party was forced into the head of your uncle's boss."
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of his only living family being in mortal peril. He certainly didn't like the Dursleys, but he didn't want them dead, or even injured (at least, not too terribly). "But, wouldn't it have been easier to just–er–get rid of them and break the wards forever?"
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" said Lupin, a puzzled expression coming over his face. "That's what I've been researching lately, types of wards and their properties. That's why I was late to dinner tonight. I fear that Voldemort may know something about them that we don't, and that puts us in a precarious position indeed."
Harry nodded and grew silent in thought. He had so much new information, however, that he hardly knew where to start. Something Lupin had said came back to him. "Do you have any leads on the spy?"
Lupin looked sideways at Harry and stuck his hands in his pockets. "No, unfortunately," he said, "and our secrets grow every day. We have no idea from whom we should be keeping them."
Bitter anger flooded through Harry as he thought of a suspect. "Oh, and I don't suppose Snape, our resident double-crosser, who goes to regular meetings with Voldemort could possibly be the culprit?" he bit out. He still hated Snape immensely for what occurred last year.
Lupin looked piercingly at Harry. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, Harry. That trust means more to him than you could know. He would never do anything to jeopardize it."
"Hmm," Harry sneered. However, before he could vocalize any of his feelings for the Potions Master, Lupin gave a yawn. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, but I've been up since dawn and it's rather late. Unless you feel we're not finished here?"
"No, sorry for keeping you," said Harry, who wasn't even remotely sleepy. "Thank you for telling me everything, Professor."
Lupin half-smiled at the title. "Harry, considering I haven't been your professor for more than two years now, I think it'd be safe to call me Remus–or," he added, and his smile grew, "you could call me Moony, like you did back in Surrey."
"What?" said Harry, not remembering doing anything of the sort.
"That's what you said after I Stunned the Death Eater–'Moony.' It was quite ironic, as that was also your first word, after 'Mama,' of course. James was worried for a while after that."
Harry stared at his former Defense teacher in wonder before he broke out into a smile. "Goodnight Pro–er, Remus," he said.
"Goodnight Harry."
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Harry trudged up the stairs thinking about all he'd heard that evening with Lupin–Remus, he remembered. Had his first word really been "Moony?" Had his father really gotten worried about what his mother had been doing and with whom? Even if Remus was putting him on, Harry thought it was funny anyway.
He reached the landing, looked down the corridor, and blinked in surprise. He'd been so lost in thought that he'd completely missed his floor! He was only one floor too far…the floor with the library….
Without even pausing to think about what he was doing, Harry made his way down the dark hall. When he reached the shadowy hallway leading to the library, however, he paused. It looked even more sinister than it had in the daytime; the shadows were so deep that they appeared to be absorbing all surrounding light, not just piercing through it. Harry felt oddly drawn to it though, and once more stuck his hands out on either side of him to avoid bumping into the walls. Even though he knew what lay ahead, he wanted to save himself any scrapes and bruises if he could help it. Making his way forward, he felt a warm buzz flowing from the walls, into his fingertips and throughout his body, getting stronger as he neared the Black library.
When the familiar band of yellow torchlight appeared in the distance from beneath the library door, Harry withdrew his hands. The second trip seemed to have taken very little time, whereas the first was a short eternity in darkness, and he reached the door earlier than he expected.
Harry pushed the door open and found the large room to be just as he'd hastily left it earlier that evening. Still feeling an electric magic tingling on the tip of his subconscious, he was drawn in the direction of the last shelf in the last aisle–to the Portkey book.
As he neared the area in which he knew the book lay, Harry saw a thin beam of light shooting up from the floor. He got closer and closer, and the beam of light grew in width and intensity as he did. When he turned into the last aisle, he saw the familiar leather-bound book emanating the familiar tower of brilliant light.
Harry hesitated. Even if that little book didn't deliver him straight to Voldemort, it could still dump him in the middle of another dangerous situation. But he did have his wand, and the watch guard as well, didn't he? If any unfortunate spells came his way, the Order would come. Though it only took two seconds to say Avada Kedavra…
Stamping down that line of thinking, Harry, eyes shining and alert with determination, brought his hand to the book before him. He only had time to notice that the tip of his forefinger had rested upon the word "Seeker" at the bottom of the page before he felt a jerk behind his navel and was pulled through a blur of color and wind to his unknown destination.
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AN: And…scene! Well, I'm back, and I know you probably all hate me for taking–gulp–twenty days to put out another chapter. In a feeble attempt at forgiveness, I've made this chapter extra-long; it's about 1,000 words longer than any of my other chapters. If you don't want to hear my reason for taking forever, skip the following Excuse to the Review Responses and the Next time below it.
Excuse: If you'd read my previous Author's Notes, you'll know I had to go to surgery. I didn't think it was a big deal, and I'm already healed, but it's been very difficult to get back to being myself. Then I had a lot of makeup work for school, and the usual assignments to finish when I'd gone back. Luckily, a two-hour fit of inspiration snapped me out of my slump and gave life to what had previously been going nowhere.
Next time: Where is Harry going? And what the hell is going on inside his head?
Review Responses:
Ariana Dumbledore: Thanks for the compliment! You'll find out why Dirk does that in the next one or two chapters.
solar1: Thank you very much, and sorry this wasn't very "soon."
Monkey, Queen of Insanity: Ah ah ah, you'll just have to wait and see!
Hunta: Thank you very much, I appreciate your calling me original.
Please review, lovely people!
