In Fire Lies Redemption
By Marz
Chapter 17: Out of Sight, Into Mind
Snape stood glaring down at them. His mouth was moving. Harry couldn't tell it he was trying to speak or cast a spell but the sounds pouring out of his mouth weren't any language he'd ever heard before.
"Hel ladseri skaod adoe em are and lake!" Snape let out a growl of frustration and put his fists to the sides of his head as if it were causing him great pain. Harry started to get up, but immediately Snape's wand was pointing in his face. Harry put up his hands in surrender.
"What is the meaning of this!" shouted the familiar and reproachful voice of Madam Pomfrey as she walked briskly into the hospital wing. She was tightening her bathrobe with one hand and aiming her wand with the other.
"Severus why are you out of your room?"
Snape let out another stream of nonsense words and pointed at Harry and Lupin sprawled together on the floor.
"He tired to kill us!" Harry declared pointing at the remains of the bed, which was still smoldering.
"I am certain that wasn't his intention, Harry," said a calm voice from the doorway.
Headmaster Dumbledore walked into the room. He too was dressed for bed, in florescent green pajamas with orange dragons on the cuffs. He put a hand on Snape's shoulder and pointed him to a nearby chair. Snape went and sat, but continued to glare at Harry and Lupin, and did not put away his wand. Harry sprang to his feet and helped Lupin limp to another chair.
"Remus, it is good to see you alive and well," said Dumbledore. "Harry, you look exhausted. Return to Gryffindor tower. You can visit at a more respectable hour."
"But…"
Dumbledore looked at him questioningly and Harry shut his mouth. He knew he would not get anywhere arguing, and the Headmaster had not yet asked Harry about the incident of the previous day. If he stuck around Dumbledore might just get answers out of him. Harry nodded to Lupin and walked quickly out the door. He looked back and saw that Snape's glare remained fixed on the former professor, who slumped tiredly in his chair, shivering despite the heavy gray coat he wore.
"Remus, when Madam Pomfrey had finished with you, please come to my office," the Headmaster said.
He put a hand on Snape's shoulder and tried to guide him to his room in the back of the hospital wing, but Snape dodged around him. The potions professor let out another string of nonsense words, and tugged on the front of his own robes, then pointed at Remus.
"Something about his clothes?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Snape stared at the Headmaster, but there was no comprehension in his sunken eyes. Dumbledore reached out towards him again, and again Snape dodged. He side stepped the old man and rushed toward Remus. The injured man looked at him warily, but as he was unarmed and unable to run, there wasn't much he could do to avoid the rather deranged professor, who grabbed him by the front of his coat. Snape tugged on the coat so hard he nearly pulled him off his chair. Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster were both yelling at him, but he ignored them. Remus grabbed his wrists and began to push him away. As he did, he looked up into Snape's enraged glare.
Remus breath hitched. Images poured unbidden into his mind. A werewolf charged up the garden path, and he was too stunned to close the door against it. Lily and James' house reduced to smoldering rubble. Alice and Frank Longbottom in their beds at St. Mungo's babbling and crying. Harry charging toward Sirius as he fell backwards through the Arch in the Department of Mysteries. He realized that Snape was using Legilimency on him, but he could not control his own thoughts enough to do anything about it.
More recent memories were dragged up. He pulled at the chain binding him to the passenger seat of Lim's car. He saw her coming towards him, across the muddy road, gun leveled. He saw her on the train platform at King's Cross, side stepping the falling body of a Death Eater she'd stabbed with a wicked looking knife.
Suddenly the uncontrollable flood of memories halted. His ears were ringing and he realized he had been shouting. He also noticed he was lying on the floor. The Headmaster was rather forcefully escorting Snape away from him. Pomfrey helped Remus up and over to a bed. His eyelids tried to sink shut. As Pomfrey began to pull the muggle bandages off of his once again agonizing leg, he went through the pockets of the trench coat. He found it, and without looking at it, slid it under his pillow. As Pomfrey started to lecture him on proper first aid, he let his eyes sink closed.
The book smelled old and musty, rather comforting and familiar. Old books always smelled like that. He shifted around in the lumpy arm chair to get a bit more light on the page.
Meditative exercises are indispensable when learning to control the deeper actions and workings of the mind. A clear and controlled mind is key.
Harry glared at the text. It was starting to sound a lot like Professor Snape's less then useful instructions from the previous year. At least the book wasn't constantly yelling that he "was making no effort!" The paragraph went on to describe the importance of a clear mind. He was becoming more then a little frustrated.
He and Hermione had spent most of lunch in the restricted section looking for books on Legilimency and Occlumency. The selection was disappointingly small, vague, and written in Latin. Harry was about to give up when he saw a gold stamped binding on the top shelf, five feet above his head. Lucky I'm trained to hone in on shiny objects, he thought snidely. The book's only identification was the stamp, a tiny golden brain. It had no title, author, or index, but Harry's gut told him he'd found what he needed.
A note from Hagrid had gotten the book out of the library, but finding a place to read it was a little more problematic. Harry didn't want Dumbledore to know he was studying the topic on his own. He didn't want the Headmaster to think himself right. Unfortunately teachers had taken to looking over his shoulder in the past few days. The only place he could get any privacy was in his bed with the curtains pulled. McGonagall was still trying to figure out what potion he'd taken and had such a bad reaction to. Fortunately Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville had all stuck to the story they'd rehearsed, and the faculty was still in the dark. The only one who wasn't constantly and suspiciously peeping at him was Hagrid, which was why Harry was hiding out in his hut.
Harry really wanted to read the Animagus text, but it was too much of a risk. Actually what he really wanted was to find out what happened to Lupin, but he had to do something to keep his mind off it, or he'd start punching random walls again. He went back to the text.
The following exercises will assist in clearing the mind of thought and feeling. First, one must close their eyes.
Harry did so, and then, realizing he needed to read the rest of the instructions, opened them again. He read the page. He closed his eyes. The instructions echoed in his head as if a voice were speaking from deep inside his mind.
Envision a room, fully furnished, with a door in one corner. Imagine it in as much detail as possible, the carpet, the tapestries, the upholstery. Imagine photographs on the tables, flowers in a decorative vase. Look around this room. See everything.
You are alone in this room. There is no sound but your own breathing. There are no clocks. Time is unimportant. Look around the room. See everything.
Sit down on the floor. Imagine yourself with your eyes closed, in the middle of the room. You know were everything is. You hear nothing but your own heartbeat.
The tapestries fade away. You do not open your eyes, but you know they are gone. The photographs fade away, and then the table, and then the chairs. They are gone. They are not important.
You are sitting in the middle of the room. There is nothing around you. There is only you. There is silence. Your heart is slow and even. You no longer hear it, only feel it. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Breath…."What are yeh doin' Harry?"
Harry sat up suddenly as the words crashed through his nice empty mind. The book fell with an unhappy thump on the floor. Hagrid was standing over him with a bucket of fish heads, looking concerned.
"Oh, I was…I must've fallen asleep," Harry said. He felt incredibly disoriented.
Hagrid didn't look convinced. "Your eyes were open."
"They weren't…really?"
Hagrid nodded. "And you were breathing funny too."
"Oh."
"I think I'd better walk yeh back to the castle now."
Harry nodded and collected his book. They set off across the wet grass.
A few older students stopped to say hello to him as he made his way to the Headmaster's office. Remus was more then a little surprised to be greeted in such a friendly manner. They obviously knew he was a werewolf, as the news had made the front page of the Daily Prophet for three days straight. He nodded and smiled in return and told them not to be late for their classes.
The gargoyle stepped aside before he could name even a single candy, and he stepped onto the rising staircase. His right leg was still sore but once again functional. He was hoping Madam Pomfrey would keep him longer, but when he woke up, halfway through the morning, she told him he could go. She'd laid out a proper set of robes for him as well. The trench coat that had driven Snape into such a frenzy was gone as well. Remus found the card under his pillow, where he'd stuffed it the night before. As the moving stairs brought him closer to Dumbledore he glanced at the card again.
It was a plane white business card. The front was stamped with three block letters.
L.I.M.
On the back, instructions were hand printed in blue ink.
Mr. Lupin,
Should you choose to accept the previously discussed terms of business,
Please arrive at the Turn Up Club promptly at 10 P.M. this Friday.
Cover is five pounds. Try to dress appropriately.
The stairs grated to a stop, and the door to the Headmaster's office lay open before him.
The interview did not take nearly as long as he feared it would. It took less then ten minutes for him to recount all the events that followed the full moon. He passed over a few details, as he didn't see it wholly necessary to mention that he'd taken quite a few muggle drugs. He did not leave out Lim's implied threat against the random wizards she'd shown him pictures of, or her claim of having killed members of the obliviation task force. He'd reported the incident at King's Cross immediately after it happened, and he was certain Dumbledore had put those pieces together as well. When he finished his tale the Headmaster simply stared at him passively. He asked to see the card Remus had been given. Remus handed it over. After a few minutes of study it was returned to him.
"The Order can not be involved in such a huge breach in the Statute of Secrecy, and from what you've told me the muggle organization represented by Lim does not want direct contact with us. It seems a shame to ignore any source of information in this time of crisis. Alas, I have a higher authority to answer to. I think it would be best not to speak of this again, unless it becomes more pressing."
Remus nodded and stood to leave. As he reached the door way, Dumbledore called after him.
"You've been doing so much for The Order recently, Remus. Why don't you take this weekend off?"
Dinner in the Great Hall seemed unusually noisy to Harry. He thought it might be a sign of having successfully meditated. McGonagall glared at him continuously as he ate. He returned to Gryffindor tower and finished his home work, and his catch up home work, and his extra D.A. meeting research. He looked about and realized he was the only one still awake in the common room. Hermione was slumped over a pile of rune texts, drooling a little and snoring a lot.
Harry went through his bag and fished out the brain book. It was pretty quite. He started the meditation exercise again. In his head he sat in the empty room and listened to his own breathing.
In Out In Out In Out
He felt strangely peaceful and weightless. The book had said to slowly imaging the furniture back into the room, but instead Harry felt himself drifting towards where the door would be. He imagined himself opening the door, his eyelids still closed. He heard the fire crackle, and faintly Hermione's snoring. He drifted toward the heat of the fire, still feeling completely relaxed. His eyes opened.
He saw himself. He was sitting on the couch in front of the fire. His hand rested limply on top of the book. His eyes were open and staring blankly. Harry stared back into his own blank gaze. I must be dreaming this.
There were foot steps on the stairs. Slowly and groggily Ron stumbled into the common room. Ron looked around the room and growled.
"I'm the only one with common sense."
Harry watched as Ron shook Hermione's shoulder. She sat up with a start, and rubbed her eyes.
"Oh, what time is it?" she mumbled.
"You've got some…" Ron went to wipe her chin with the sleeve of his nightshirt. Hermione jumped back a bit, eyes widening.
Her own hand went to the unfortunate excess of saliva. She blushed, noticing the rather large puddle on her runes assignment.
"Why don't you go wake up Harry?" she said.
Ron obeyed, and Harry watched intently as his friend went over to inspect the other Harry sitting on the couch.
"I think something's wrong with him!" Ron called.
He waved his hand in front of couch Harry's eyes. As dreams go this is getting very strange, Harry thought. Hermione leaned in as well. She shook couch Harry's shoulder and he tipped over. The book slid from his lap. She gave a little scream. Ron stretched out a shaking hand and felt couch Harry's neck for a pulse.
"He's alive," Ron said after a tense moment.
"I'll get Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Hang on a minute," said Ron, taking his wand from his pocket.
"Ron that's not a good idea…" she started to say, but Ron was already casting the spell.
"Ennervate!"
Harry felt a sudden tug, almost like a port key. He blinked looked up into Ron's concerned face. He was tipped over on his side and his book lay on the floor, just as he had dreamed. Only it wasn't a dream, he thought sitting up.
"You alright mate?" Ron asked. "Any idea what hit you?'
Harry shook his head. "I'm ok, I think I hit myself."
Hermione leaned over and picked up the book. "Maybe you shouldn't work on this right now," she said, flipping through the pages.
Harry reached over and took the book back. "Yeah I think its time to quit for the night." He started up the stairs for the boy's dorm, before Hermione could start lecturing him.
"That's not what I meant!" she called.
The candles flickered, though the air was still. He muttered the words and let another drop of dragon's blood fall onto the intricately carved stone tablet. It hissed faintly as it splattered, and there was an answering hiss from the snake in the far corner of the room. Nagini had watched the entire process with far more interest then a snake should have concerning translations. Lucius Malfoy did his best to ignore the bright yellow eyes that followed his every move.
The encoding spells the covered the tablet were more complex then any he had previously attempted to decipher. The Dark Lord had sent the tablet to one of his subjects in Romania, Nadezhda Ulyanovskaya, a few months before his fall. Said subject had been murdered rather gruesomely eight years ago and the tablet had been lost among squabbling inheritors.
Malfoy had never actually met Ulyanovskaya, but her reputation had proceeded her. It was rumored even pure blood's hid their children indoors when she passed near their homes. The Dark Lord had not given a single clue as to the nature of the tablet, but Malfoy suspected it was the basis for Ulyanovskaya's experiments. It had something to do with stealing the powers of magical creatures and transferring them to a wizard.
Evan Rosier was the emissary between her and the Dark Lord. Though the man's loyalty was unquestionable, he did like to brag about his inclusion in such important research. He'd been charged with gathering Phoenix, Veelas, vampires, and underworld serpents; all creatures which defied mortal ageing. Malfoy suspected the Dark Lord had used them in his attempts to gain immortality.
Thirty seven drops of Dragon's blood later, the tablet gave off a massive blast of acrid smoke. Malfoy quickly fanned it away, revealing the tablet's last entry, in pristinely carved English.
Trial 1254: Successful.
Procedure: Gamma, including both transfigurative and surgical alterations.
Subjects: 1 Wraith, in good condition, without magical alteration.
1 witch, age 6, moderate health, Imperious Curse in effect.
Before he could read further Nagini reared up before him, hissing dangerously. He had only a fraction of a second to snatch his hands out of the way before the snake lunged forward and swallowed the stone tablet in one uncomfortable gulp. It slithered away, the tablet obviously jammed in its throat. Malfoy sat back in his chair, considering.
Remus woke to sounds of laughter and poorly hushed shouts of encouragement. It took him ten muddled minutes to find his shoes and get them on the correct feet. It was nearly noon. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. He'd gone to bed early the previous night, but managed to sleep through half of Friday anyway. Maybe I've got dragon pox again, he thought as he headed for the kitchen.
Molly Weasley and Hestia Jones sat at the table giggling like oxygen deprived school girls at a man beside the stove. Remus went for his wand but the man turned towards him and said "Wotcher Remus!" in a familiar feminine voice. The man closed his eyes, brow wrinkling up. A moment latter Nymphadora Tonks stood before him with painfully pink hair.
"Good to see you're up and about," she said. "I was just trying out my disguise for this evening. I'm off to join the minions of you-know-who in their noble mission to rid the world impure blood."
Remus nodded and made his way to the pantry, looking for the tea he'd hidden behind the jars of sauerkraut that no one would touch. Someone had raided his stash, but there was still one bag left. He boiled the water and poured himself a cup with only a few minor scalds. Molly, Hestia, and Tonks were all exchanging looks, and Remus was aware of the silent argument about who would go first. Molly lost.
"Remus we were wondering…That is to say we're concerned. You've been so quiet since you got back. Is something wrong? Did something happen while you were stranded? Dumbledore's been unusually tight lipped about how you got back."
Remus sighed. He had come up with a cover story. It was not exactly a work of creative genius. He didn't like to be the but of jokes, even if he was the one making them. The three women continued to stare at him though, so he decided to get it over with.
"I asked him not to give away too many details, as the entire incident is embarrassing and I fully intend to take it to the grave with me. Let's just say that it involved hitchhiking, and it wasn't until the third ride that I managed to negotiate my way to some pants."
"Oh!" said Molly, blushing bright red. "Oh my." Her jaw was clenched tightly, trying to hold back an explosion of giggles.
Remus nodded, and drank some tea. He knew Molly wouldn't ask again, especially after she "heard the door bell," and fled. Hestia followed her a minute later with a slightly more controlled expression. Laughter echoed up the hall as soon as she was out of sight. Tonks looked at him sympathetically, and then smirked a bit.
"I get to hear the rest of the story some day right?" she said.
"Only if you pay for all twenty pints," he responded.
"I'd best get going. The man whose identity I'm barrowing is about to take his lunch break. It's good that you're alright."
She patted him on the back as she walked out the door.
"Thanks Tonks," he called after her.
The rest of the day went by almost without incident, though Molly Weasley couldn't look at him without having to bite back giggles. He suspected under less stressful circumstances the bit of humor in his story would have died out in the first few hours. He blamed overwrought nerves for her three outbursts during dinner.
He'd spent most of the afternoon thinking about the card. Dumbledore seemed to have implied that he should go to the meeting, but he had said Remus could take the weekend off. Why can't he just be literal? He supposed he could just not go. He hadn't been ordered to. It was a suggestion really. He had a gut feeling that anymore contact with the muggles would end in disaster and long prison sentences.
After dinner he sat down by the stove. He'd found the address for the Turn Up Club, in the muggle phone listings. According to the advertisement, it was some sort of Techno Dance Club, with three D.J.s. He had absolutely no idea what that meant. He looked at the clock. 8:14. In another two hours the decision would be moot. He put his head down, and wondered how he ended up in situations like this.
They'd broken all the windows. The doors hung wide open and bodies lay sprawled on the castle steps. The air reeked with sulfur and smoke. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the grounds were ablaze. Among the flickering flames shadowy figures roamed. Some wore white skull masks, and others floated above the searing ground, drawing rattling breaths of the cloying air. Remus felt no concern or fear. As the black dog appeared in the entrance of Hogwarts he knew it was another dream.
He climbed the stairs. Snape's eyes were open and staring, as were McGonagall's. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the only one who appeared at peace, but he always did. Only the blood soaking through his robes gave away that he was not asleep. As he reached the top, the dog turned and Remus followed. The doors of the Great Hall lay open as well.
The tables were turned on their sides and the floor was scattered with plates and food and unmoving children. Voldemort sat in the Headmaster's chair. A large dark bundle of cloth lay at his feet. Remus approached without hurry. He bent down and turned the bundle over. Harry Potter's pale scarred face looked up at him. The boy took a rattling breath and blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth. He whispered something that Remus couldn't make out. He leaned in closer.
"What did you say?" he asked.
The boy spoke again. He still couldn't understand.
"Say it louder!" Remus said desperately.
Harry's blazing green eyes bored into him. His mouth began to move. "Did you want pudding? We're all having some in the parlor."
"What?"
He sat up with a start. Molly Weasley stood in front of him with a plate of chocolate cake in one had and a tea tray balanced in the other.
"I asked if you want to join us for pudding, dear?"
Remus rubbed his eyes again. "No! No thank you Molly," he said. Could that have been any more ambiguous? he thought angrily at the phantasmal dog.
As Molly left the kitchen he glanced at the clock. 9:15. He sighed and started up the stairs to the attic. The Order must have some Techno Dance appropriate muggle clothing.