Chapter Ten:
His hair flew wildly in the wind as the carousel spun faster and faster. The nausea had
become so familiar it barely bothered him now. He was immune to it, or maybe just numb. The
thunder and lightning still raged on. Cold droplets of rain pelted his face, and caused his raven
hair to stick to his head.
"Harry, come off of there. I want to talk to you." Harry noticed a blur that must have
been Ian.
"Why?"
"You need to get off. There's a storm."
"So?"
"It isn't safe. Get off now. Dumbledore said not to go on the carousel during thunder
storms."
"What a bastard doesn't know can't hurt him."
The carousel spun faster.
"But it can hurt you."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Harry was taking a walk outside for the first time in a week. The sun beat down onto his
back.
*Ugh, how can Ian stand wearing black all summer?*
Aside from the sweltering sun, it felt somewhat refreshing to be outdoors. Harry's skin
had lost what little color it had, and he was now sporting an unnatural powder-white tone.
The past few days had been a blur. He vaguely remembered collecting the mail that had
been sent on his birthday, reading a letter and skimming through a book that had been sent by
Dumbledore. This triggered the anger inside of Harry.
*And then I drank again.*
He had just recently begun to realize how dependent he had become on alcohol and
cigarettes. He even tried weed once or twice much to Ian's dislike. It scared Harry, but he did
not know how to stop.
*Easy. I'll get the hell out of here at the end of summer. I'll have no way of getting
muggle drugs at Hogwarts and then I'll be cured.*
But another part of him did not believe this. Mostly because he was considering not going
back at all.
*I'm a coward, that's what I am. Running away from my problems.*
It was thoughts like these that sent Harry further from the person he once was. Losing to a
battle of a nicotine craving, he searched his pockets for a lighter and cigarette. Cursing, he
realized he left them in another pair of pants.
* * * * * * * * * *
"And so it seems that my suspicions have been confirmed," Albus spoke out to the rest of
the Order at the meeting, which was being held at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Mr. Potter did not write the letter." Several people gasped.
"No offense, sir. But how can you be sure your sources are reliable, assuming that you
have sources that is?" A greasy-haired Snape stood up to address the headmaster with his usual
scowl. Minerva Mcgonagall eye's narrowed at the disrespect Snape was showing towards
Dumbledore. No one but Remus caught this.
"A very good question, Severus. I used a fairly old spell that is not quite well-known. A
spell that can reveal the identity of the owner of most common objects. It's quite accurate, and I
trust the results."
"And what do your results show?" Snap asked.
"The results show that the letter was written by a muggle by the name of Ian Penn."
"A muggle!? That's preposterous!" Snape shouted.
Minerva spoke out in a calm, yet shaken voice, "What can this mean, Albus?"
"I believe that it means Harry is in the presence of a muggle who knows that Harry is a
wizard."
"But we've used the truth serum on the Dursleys, and they have no idea where he is." This
time Remus spoke out.
"Which is why I believe this muggle is not a relative of Harry's and somehow connected
to our world."
* * * * * * * * * *
Spell # 999, Temporary Obliviation:
This spell was first performed in 1956 by an American witch called Harriet Woodsnit. She used the spell to temporarily erase the memories she had of her deceased husband in order to suppress her grief. The spell lasted approximately three weeks, and had no after effects. However, several witches and wizards have attempted to cast this spell on themselves with disastrous results. Henry Delouse of Paris, France suffered a permanent memory loss. Larry Kingston of Whales and Juliet Crosby of New York City both died of a mysterious, and incurable rising fever. Just recently famous author, Gilderoy Lockhart, was accidentally hit with a regular Obliviation spell that he himself had cast. Many spell and charm specialists hold the theory that any memory charms cast on oneself is a form of the Temporary Obliviation Spell.
The Temporary Obliviation Spell is extremely dangerous because of lack of knowledge. It is advised that one does not perform it until more information is released. Currently all that is known about its magical properties is that it drenches the castor of much energy. It had also been proven impossible to cast on anyone other than oneself. To learn more on how to cast memory spells on others please see page 1073.
*Dumbledore must of over looked this one. There's no way in hell he'd give me this book
knowing this spell was in it...*
"Hi, Harry. What are you up to?"
"Oh, you know, just reading."
Ian rose an eyebrow questioningly, "The guy that hasn't put down a beer bottle all
summer is sitting here reading? Likely story."
Ian grinned. The grin disappeared when Harry did not return it.
"Only kidding, mate."
"Ian?"
"Huh?"
"I have an idea. You're not going to like it but it's something I'm going to do either way.
So listen to me. I need your help." Harry paused and looked up from his book, studying Ian's
face for his reaction. There was none.
"I'm going to cast this spell..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Remus never doubted Albus Dumbledore. He knew he could always trust the man.
However, this time he wasn't entirely confident with Dumbledore's decision.
"Albus, I don't mean to question your judgement but are you so sure this is the best idea?"
"I honestly don't know, Remus. But we need to get Harry back before any danger can
come to him. And I believe that Mr. Penn is the closest link we have to Harry."
"I have a terrible feeling about this."
Though the headmaster did not openly admit it, he had the same dreadful feeling in the pit
of his stomach.
To Mr. Ian Penn,
I hope the way this letter arrives does not come as a complete shock to you. If it does I am afraid I've contacted the wrong person. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am writing to ask you about a boy named Harry Potter. I believe you possibly know where he is. If so could you please send a reply with this owl as soon as possible. Again, if I have contact the wrong person I am terribly sorry.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore-
"If this gets into the wrong hands do you know what this can mean to our world?"
"I am fully aware, Remus, but as you can see I've given no information other than my and
Harry's names. It is still a risk if it falls into the wrong wizard's hands, for they will know of
Harry's disappearance. But if a muggle who does not know of our world looks at it all they will
see is a blank parchment." Albus gave a little childish smile at his ingenious plan.
However, to Remus it was outright stupid.
His hair flew wildly in the wind as the carousel spun faster and faster. The nausea had
become so familiar it barely bothered him now. He was immune to it, or maybe just numb. The
thunder and lightning still raged on. Cold droplets of rain pelted his face, and caused his raven
hair to stick to his head.
"Harry, come off of there. I want to talk to you." Harry noticed a blur that must have
been Ian.
"Why?"
"You need to get off. There's a storm."
"So?"
"It isn't safe. Get off now. Dumbledore said not to go on the carousel during thunder
storms."
"What a bastard doesn't know can't hurt him."
The carousel spun faster.
"But it can hurt you."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Harry was taking a walk outside for the first time in a week. The sun beat down onto his
back.
*Ugh, how can Ian stand wearing black all summer?*
Aside from the sweltering sun, it felt somewhat refreshing to be outdoors. Harry's skin
had lost what little color it had, and he was now sporting an unnatural powder-white tone.
The past few days had been a blur. He vaguely remembered collecting the mail that had
been sent on his birthday, reading a letter and skimming through a book that had been sent by
Dumbledore. This triggered the anger inside of Harry.
*And then I drank again.*
He had just recently begun to realize how dependent he had become on alcohol and
cigarettes. He even tried weed once or twice much to Ian's dislike. It scared Harry, but he did
not know how to stop.
*Easy. I'll get the hell out of here at the end of summer. I'll have no way of getting
muggle drugs at Hogwarts and then I'll be cured.*
But another part of him did not believe this. Mostly because he was considering not going
back at all.
*I'm a coward, that's what I am. Running away from my problems.*
It was thoughts like these that sent Harry further from the person he once was. Losing to a
battle of a nicotine craving, he searched his pockets for a lighter and cigarette. Cursing, he
realized he left them in another pair of pants.
* * * * * * * * * *
"And so it seems that my suspicions have been confirmed," Albus spoke out to the rest of
the Order at the meeting, which was being held at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Mr. Potter did not write the letter." Several people gasped.
"No offense, sir. But how can you be sure your sources are reliable, assuming that you
have sources that is?" A greasy-haired Snape stood up to address the headmaster with his usual
scowl. Minerva Mcgonagall eye's narrowed at the disrespect Snape was showing towards
Dumbledore. No one but Remus caught this.
"A very good question, Severus. I used a fairly old spell that is not quite well-known. A
spell that can reveal the identity of the owner of most common objects. It's quite accurate, and I
trust the results."
"And what do your results show?" Snap asked.
"The results show that the letter was written by a muggle by the name of Ian Penn."
"A muggle!? That's preposterous!" Snape shouted.
Minerva spoke out in a calm, yet shaken voice, "What can this mean, Albus?"
"I believe that it means Harry is in the presence of a muggle who knows that Harry is a
wizard."
"But we've used the truth serum on the Dursleys, and they have no idea where he is." This
time Remus spoke out.
"Which is why I believe this muggle is not a relative of Harry's and somehow connected
to our world."
* * * * * * * * * *
Spell # 999, Temporary Obliviation:
This spell was first performed in 1956 by an American witch called Harriet Woodsnit. She used the spell to temporarily erase the memories she had of her deceased husband in order to suppress her grief. The spell lasted approximately three weeks, and had no after effects. However, several witches and wizards have attempted to cast this spell on themselves with disastrous results. Henry Delouse of Paris, France suffered a permanent memory loss. Larry Kingston of Whales and Juliet Crosby of New York City both died of a mysterious, and incurable rising fever. Just recently famous author, Gilderoy Lockhart, was accidentally hit with a regular Obliviation spell that he himself had cast. Many spell and charm specialists hold the theory that any memory charms cast on oneself is a form of the Temporary Obliviation Spell.
The Temporary Obliviation Spell is extremely dangerous because of lack of knowledge. It is advised that one does not perform it until more information is released. Currently all that is known about its magical properties is that it drenches the castor of much energy. It had also been proven impossible to cast on anyone other than oneself. To learn more on how to cast memory spells on others please see page 1073.
*Dumbledore must of over looked this one. There's no way in hell he'd give me this book
knowing this spell was in it...*
"Hi, Harry. What are you up to?"
"Oh, you know, just reading."
Ian rose an eyebrow questioningly, "The guy that hasn't put down a beer bottle all
summer is sitting here reading? Likely story."
Ian grinned. The grin disappeared when Harry did not return it.
"Only kidding, mate."
"Ian?"
"Huh?"
"I have an idea. You're not going to like it but it's something I'm going to do either way.
So listen to me. I need your help." Harry paused and looked up from his book, studying Ian's
face for his reaction. There was none.
"I'm going to cast this spell..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Remus never doubted Albus Dumbledore. He knew he could always trust the man.
However, this time he wasn't entirely confident with Dumbledore's decision.
"Albus, I don't mean to question your judgement but are you so sure this is the best idea?"
"I honestly don't know, Remus. But we need to get Harry back before any danger can
come to him. And I believe that Mr. Penn is the closest link we have to Harry."
"I have a terrible feeling about this."
Though the headmaster did not openly admit it, he had the same dreadful feeling in the pit
of his stomach.
To Mr. Ian Penn,
I hope the way this letter arrives does not come as a complete shock to you. If it does I am afraid I've contacted the wrong person. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am writing to ask you about a boy named Harry Potter. I believe you possibly know where he is. If so could you please send a reply with this owl as soon as possible. Again, if I have contact the wrong person I am terribly sorry.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore-
"If this gets into the wrong hands do you know what this can mean to our world?"
"I am fully aware, Remus, but as you can see I've given no information other than my and
Harry's names. It is still a risk if it falls into the wrong wizard's hands, for they will know of
Harry's disappearance. But if a muggle who does not know of our world looks at it all they will
see is a blank parchment." Albus gave a little childish smile at his ingenious plan.
However, to Remus it was outright stupid.