Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would not be poor and destitute. But I am. Ergo, I don't.
When Harry came to again, the scene was much the same as before, with the notable lack of Dumbledore's anxious face peering down at him. Instead, only Lupin and Mrs Weasley were present in the room, Lupin bent over a book and Mrs Weasley – knitting, which seemed slightly incongruous. Harry moistened cracked lips, and croaked out a single word.
"Remus?"
Instantly, Lupin's head flew up. An inscrutable expression crossed his face on seeing that Harry was awake again, but he swiftly got up in one fluid motion and filled a glass with water from the tap in the corner of the room. Casting a brief Chilling Charm over the glass, he handed it to Harry, who drank deeply and gratefully. Having satisfied his thirst, he lowered the glass and turned back to Lupin.
"How is it that you know what it is I'm thinking before I tell you?"
"Practice," the older man replied in a dry tone. "That and the fact that I could smell the thirst on you."
Harry smiled weakly; he'd forgotten all about Lupin's lycanthropy and its unusual effect on his senses. He leaned back again onto soft, downy pillows, and let his unbearably heavy head fall back onto them, before voicing the one thought that had been chasing its merry way around his splitting brain ever since he had properly woken up.
"What happened?"
"Well, now, that's a very good question, Harry. I was rather hoping you'd fill me in slightly, before I tell you the current theory doing the rounds."
Harry flumped back bodily onto the many pillows that had somehow appeared behind him.
"I was in the study, listening to Dumbledore drone on about safety measures he'll be taking to protect me now that I've got this power when I felt something that was – like electricity, do you know what that is?" Seeing Lupin nod, he continued. "Anyway, I thought it'd go away if I ignored it, but it didn't, it got stronger and started to hurt, so I thought I should tell Dumbledore, but when I was about to – I vanished."
He paused for a minute, and drank some more water before going on.
"It was like, I had no body any more, just this weird sense of me, in darkness the whole time. And there was something else, felt like someone was looking for something in my head, but I kicked it out. Then I had to get out of...wherever I was. I had a bit of trouble with that one, but I worked it out eventually by memorising how it felt to be me and then using my power to get me back, and then I was..back...here.." He faltered off, disconcerted, at the look on Lupin's face. "What?"
"Tell me, Harry, how long were you unconscious for before you woke up?"
Harry paused and thought back to his brief sojourn in that land of never-ending darkness. "About…half an hour? An hour, maximum."
"Try three weeks."
"What?!"
"It has been three weeks yesterday since you lost consciousness in the study upstairs. Since then you've been completely out, not a sign of life whatsoever. When you woke up yesterday…well, you gave us a bit of a shock, actually. We were – on the verge of giving up hope. We – I, Molly and Dumbledore, until yesterday, have been in here practically all that time."
Realising that he'd not heard a word from the usually voluble Mrs. Weasley, Harry glanced over at her, and saw that, while she was hunched over in her chair, knitting needles held limply in her hands, she had in fact fallen asleep. She looked…exhausted. Tearing his gaze away from the slumbering woman, he turned back to Lupin.
"But…I don't understand. I wasn't unconscious for very long at all! How can it have been three weeks? It's just not possible!"
"Harry, if you would let me speak for just five minutes, I will tell you what we believe happened to you. You spoke of a presence that felt as though it was inside your mind?"
Harry nodded dumbly, still finding it very hard to accept that he'd just lost three weeks of time in what felt like thirty minutes.
"We have reason to believe that this presence was, in fact, Voldemort."
The news didn't startle Harry as he might have expected it to. Instead, all he felt was a weary numbness, as though really he'd already known it. Lupin glanced at him, and carried on.
"The sensation that you described before you passed out, that of a feeling similar to that of static electricity building up on your skin, was, we think, Voldemort attempting to gain access to your mind as he has done with such success on previous occasions. He was not, however, able to accomplish it, for the same reason that Severus was equally unable to break through your mental barriers. It would appear that with the inheritance of your power, your mind has formed practically impregnable shields. A Legilimens, no matter how skilled, is unable to break through them.
"There is, however, one other way to gain access to a mind, and unluckily for us Voldemort was so desperate to break into your head that he decided to use it. It is an unbelievably dangerous method, and the very fact that Voldemort felt confident enough to make use of it suggests that he is more secure in his power than we had feared. Nevertheless, to have used it will have drained him considerably, and he will need time to recover; we have, perhaps, less to fear from him at the moment, at least for a short time. And, of course, he will believe that he has got rid of you forever.
"The place that you remember – it does have a name. It is, however, a dark name, and one which should not be spoken lightly, especially not in these times. We are safe enough here, though, and I can tell you without great fear of recrimination.
"It is named in Welsh – Dofn Y Dyffryn, the Deep Valley."
As Lupin spoke the ancient name, the strange words rolling in an unfamiliar manner from his tongue, Harry felt an indescribable dread grow in his stomach, though he could not explain why. It was as though someone was speaking to him of a terrible event that had happened in a dream, but a dream that was fading quickly, and the cause of the dread slips from the waker like sand through fingers. Then, Lupin was speaking again, and Harry wrenched his attention back to the thin man sitting by his bedside.
"It is the place between worlds. Nothing exists there, or could ever exist there. It is only accessible to those with magic in their blood; indeed, it is only the magic which preserves a soul sent there. When Voldemort ripped your soul from your body –"
"And hold it right there," Harry interrupted. "What d'you mean, 'when Voldemort ripped my soul from my body?' I was personally unaware that my soul had ever left my body!"
"How else can you explain the fact that you were in Dofn Y Dyffryn? And there is no doubt that the Deep Valley was where you were. Voldemort ripped you from your body to reach into your mind. I have no doubt that what he was searching for was the knowledge of the prophecy that you prevented him from acquiring back in June. But then, his curiosity was aroused. How could you have stopped him from simply forcing himself into your mind as he had done so many times before? He was determined to find out. And so he delved deeper into your subconscious, your memories, to try and find the answer. I think that it must be too much to hope for that he did not discover the truth about your new-found power."
"But that's just it. He didn't," Harry told him. "I was watching all these scenes from my memory as he went through them, and before he even got to where I found out what the prophecy was, I kicked him out, I told you. He never found out about the Inheritance."
The astounded look on Lupin's face was almost comical.
"You mean he – he hasn't – are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Then, Harry, this is better news than we could have dreamed of. We now have two advantages; the knowledge of the prophecy, and the Inheritance. I must inform Dumbledore…"
He began to get up, but Harry stopped him.
"Hang on. I want to know how I could have been in this Deep Valley place for so long. And if it's so unusual for me to have returned – you were all pretty surprised, anyway – how does anyone know it even exists?"
Lupin sighed, and sat back down.
"When Voldemort forced his way deeper and deeper into your mind, he also forced your soul deep into Dofn Y Dyffryn. Time has no meaning there, because it does not exist there. Nothing exists there; it is somewhat akin to a magical vacuum. If you had remained for very much longer, the magical residue in your soul would not have been able to withstand the chasm, and you would have been lost to us completely. In fact, we thought that you had been. Only one other wizard has ever returned from that place, and that barely in time, and it was he who gave it its name. Have you heard of Gwydion?"
Harry racked his brains. "Name popped up a couple of times in History of Magic, I think…"
"Gwydion was one of the three great Welsh wizards, who are now only remembered in myth and legend. The story goes that a particularly complex spell that he was attempting misfired, and the power that was unleashed from the control spells that he was using tore his soul from his body and thrust him into the space between the worlds. He returned, but none who have ever disappeared into that place have since. He documented his stay in the Deep Valley, and it was from his records that we were able to work out what had happened to you. If you are still uncertain, look at your eyes."
Lupin held out a small mirror, and Harry glanced into it. Where previously his eyes had been pure, bright emerald green, now a small circle of gold remained at the centre of each green iris, just around the pupil. Harry stared, and then his head shot back up to look questioningly at Lupin, whose expression was one of mingled sadness and wonder.
"None who ever return from the Valley return unscathed."
After the conversation with Lupin had reached its end, Lupin left to inform Dumbledore of their unexpected good fortune regarding Voldemort's ignorance. Harry himself was hungry enough to stagger out of bed and down to the kitchen, where he discovered that the Order did, apparently, lower themselves to eat sandwiches once in a while, judging by the large loaf of bread standing on the side next to the huge black range that dominated one side of the kitchen, and the sandwich ingredients spread liberally around the table. Discovering a long and vicious-looking bread knife in a drawer, Harry sawed himself off a couple of slices and flung a couple of leaves of lettuce between them; he didn't really feel up to anything more artistic.
He was munching this when green flame shot up briefly in the cavernous fireplace, and a tall, thin figure unfolded itself, before tucking its beard neatly back into its belt.
Dumbledore straightened up, and smiled when he caught sight of Harry.
"Ah, Harry. Good to see you up and about. You gave us quite a scare, I must say."
"Evidently," Harry muttered in reply. "It seems that I caused a bit of trouble, more than I was expecting at any rate."
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, and spoke again.
"I have just returned from a meeting with Remus Lupin. He informs me that Voldemort is more ignorant that we had previously assumed."
Harry nodded. "I stopped him before he found my memories of either the prophecy or the Inheritance."
"Then you did extremely well. However, he will now wish to know how you did it; you have not, after all, always been successful in resisting his attempts at forced entry before. And, I am afraid, this places you at danger once again, Harry. Voldemort will, I believe, attempt to wrest this information from you again, and we cannot be sure that your mental shields will be able to withstand him should he use the full force of his power. We must, therefore, take alternative action."
Harry didn't like the sound of this.
"What exactly do you mean by alternative action?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment before speaking, and his eyes searched Harry's face.
"There is a spell, similar to the Fidelius Charm which was used to protect your parents, but much more complicated. It has long fallen into disuse because of the immense power that is needed to perform it, and indeed there now remain no documents on how to perform it – except for the last one written, which is to be found in my possession. The spell has no name, and the incantation alone remains. Its function is to lock particular information away, as with the Fidelius Charm, but with the significant difference that, rather than being locked within the soul of another, it is locked within the soul of the person that it affects."
Harry blinked.
"You mean...about the prophecy and the Inheritance, that'd all be locked inside my soul?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, Harry, that is exactly what I mean. The charm also carries an in-built Memory Charm, as it were, so that as soon as the charm has been performed, the memory of the information would be forgotten by everyone except yourself, of course. You would be able to return the information to us by repeating a simple phrase, at which the memory would return and we would be able to help you. The advantage of this charm is that nobody can reveal the information without your express permission; another part of the charm is that it prevents this, even those to whom you have revealed the secret. I would suggest, Harry, that you reveal this information only to myself and Remus, so that we can assist you."
"What about Ron and Hermione?" Harry blurted.
"I would advise you at the moment to say nothing of this to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. It would only put them at danger, Harry, and I believe that that is the last thing you wish to do at the moment. There may indeed come a time when you have to tell them, but I would strongly counsel you that that moment is not now."
With a heavy heart, Harry nodded. He'd known he'd be alone, but this just confirmed it – not to mention the fact, he remembered, that he was going to have to come up with a really good excuse as to why he kept disappearing for lessons all term. Even more pressure, Potter. Great.
"Then, Harry, I would suggest that we perform the charm now. Are you ready? I am afraid that it may be painful, but the pain should not last for too long, and you will not be adversely affected."
Dumbledore drew his wand from his sleeve. Walking over to Harry, he touched the tip to each of his wrists, to his throat, his forehead, and to his heart. Taking a step back then, he raised his wand, and cried,
"Fidelio Ingenio!"
Harry's immediate reaction was to the prickling, burning sensation that was beginning at all the places that Dumbledore's wand had touched, and spreading out across his entire body. He shifted, trying to escape it, but the feeling only intensified, building to a crackling pain that encompassed him completely. Feeling as though power was being leeched from him entirely, and that he was surely going to die, he screamed, before arching back into unconsciousness...
He came to a few minutes later, to see Dumbledore standing over him, a concerned expression on his lined face.
"Harry, are you all right?"
"Fine," he gasped, scrambling to his feet. "Just the charm, Professor..."
"Charm, Harry?"
Harry glanced at Dumbledore, to see a puzzled expression creeping over his face. He was annoyed – was the old man playing tricks on him? And then, he remembered; Dumbledore had also been affected by the memory-modification. He cleared his throat.
"Professor, remember the Inheritance and the prophecy."
The look of confusion faded, and comprehension returned to his professor's face.
"Ah. So it worked, then. Excellent. Well done, Harry. And now, I think, you deserve some rest, don't you?"
Harry, who was nearly dead on his feet, could only nod and stumble to the door and out into the sitting room, before he fell asleep on a moth-eaten old couch.