- CHAPTER ELEVEN -
The Return of Owl Post

For the next few weeks, Harry concentrated on catching up with the schoolwork he'd been rather neglecting during their scramble to solve the clue. He kept the shield hidden away with his Invisibility Cloak, since he still had little idea about what it could do - the last thing he wanted was it suddenly popping back to full size inside his pocket because it had some kind of automatic threat detection enabled.

After tentatively trying a few mild and then stronger curses, they'd concluded that the shield absorbed magic in a similar way to a curse ball.

"But this is much more complicated than that," Hermione explained. "It's based around an energy absorption web, which is one of the most intricate uses of Arithmancy. They're really difficult to do properly, because all the nodes have to be created simultaneously, or it just collapses in on itself. Once it's in place, it can't be lifted or magically altered in any way, so if it's done wrong, it can't be fixed, and the object might not even be possible to destroy."

Harry took a moment to try and comprehend that, gave it up as a bad job, and asked, "So what makes the shield more complicated than a curse ball?"

"Well, apart from anything else, just the shape of it makes it hard to create the web. A sphere is always the easiest shape to maintain, because you can link all the nodes together at the poles. Some of the really advance researchers have worked with cubes and other regular shapes, but I've never even heard of anybody trying to create a web that wasn't fully symmetrical. But in addition to that, it obviously uses a much more complicated form of absorption web than the curse ball."

"Obviously," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, Ron, you've used a curse ball in class. What does it do with the energy it absorbs?"

"Spits it back out again?" he said, in the tone he usually reserved for answers in class that he knew were an extremely long shot.

"Exactly!" said Hermione. "All it does is store the energy of the spell for a controlled amount of time, and then regurgitate it in exactly the same form. Whereas this shield - well, I don't know what it does. It has to break the energy down in some way, and either release it invisibly or use it to maintain the shield's integral enchantments."

"So it's a pretty impressive piece of kit, then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in a long-suffering manner. "Yes, Ron. It's a pretty impressive piece of kit."

It was getting increasingly difficult to study in the Gryffindor common room. Tensions were rocketing with the Christmas holidays rapidly approaching, and still no evidence of Dumbledore coming through on his promise to take down the barrier. It seemed that the question on everybody's lips was always whether they'd be allowed to return home. Home, home, home, home, home.

It was driving Harry insane.

To make matters worse, Ron and Hermione were sniping at each other again. From what he could gather, Ron had been attempting to find out what Hermione wanted for Christmas in a less than subtle manner, Hermione had felt compelled to point out that they might not be able to get out to buy presents anyway, and Ron had taken affront at this and accused her of trying to convince him not to buy her anything because she thought he couldn't afford it.

Ron was getting steadily more insufferable, Hermione was getting more and more frustrated, and Harry was getting the headache to end all headaches.

Finally he sighed, and closed his Transfiguration text with a snap. There were going to be mock exams in January, and aside from Defence Against the Dark Arts, he wasn't at all confident about his performance. He could muddle through the practicals fairly well - except perhaps for Potions - but the written papers were sure to be a nightmare. The mocks would only cover what little of the syllabus they'd already gone over, but they would be his first taste of NEWT level questions, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"I'm going to the library," he said, and was glad when nobody offered to join him.

However, halfway there, Harry changed his mind, and made a beeline for the Owlery stairs instead. He wasn't sure if early evening quite counted as a 'bleak hour', but he somehow felt that now Gryffindor's study 'recognised' him, it would be willing to let him in at any time of day. And anyway, there was no harm in trying.

Actually, he reflected midway through his flying leap, in a place like Hogwarts that probably wasn't true. Fortunately, the passage beside the clock opened for him just as it had before, and the study seemed just as welcoming as it had when he first found it. More welcoming, in fact, for as soon as he stepped over the threshold, the tension headache that had been bearing down on him seemed to melt away. He sank gratefully into the wonderfully comfy chair, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks.

Harry honestly did mean to do his revision, and actually managed to read a chapter or two. But soon, the desire to explore and find out what other imprint his father and his friends might have left on the room grew overwhelming.

There were drawers in the desk that he hadn't looked at before, and he opened them now. The top one was empty, but the second contained a list of book titles that Harry suspected related to Animagi, a detailed description of how to make a potion that would give somebody neon pink bunny ears, and several parchments that looked suspiciously like early attempts at the Marauder's Map. He suspected these were papers that the four friends hadn't considered it safe to carry around the school. If they'd been as notorious as the Weasley twins, they'd no doubt been regularly stopped and ordered to turn their pockets out.

Grinning, he opened the third and final drawer. This contained slightly more interesting things than paperwork. There was a clever little game that looked like a Muggle sliding puzzle, but had pieces that would change, swap or invert themselves whenever you touched them, and sometimes if you were unwise enough to glance the other way for a few moments. There was a mirror that altered your reflection every time you shook it; Harry had a diverting few minutes seeing what he would look like bald, with a moustache, and with bright red hair that would have qualified him to join the Weasley family.

Most of the other things in the drawer were similar; little trinkets, toys that had belonged to boys now grown or dead and gone. The last thing, right at the back of the drawer, was a sealed up cardboard box. Curious, Harry reached in to retrieve it.

Inked across the top, in handwriting he suspected was his father's, were the words 'Confiscated from the Slytherins'. Added in various other hands were several more remarks: 'for lack of respect towards House Gryffindor - and being slimy gits - not to mention smelling bad - and unacceptable levels of stupidity-' The commentary went right the way down one side of the box and onto the bottom.

Seeing that box brought back in a sudden flash the memory of peering into the Pensieve, viewing his father as Snape had once seen him. An arrogant idiot, and a bully. Maybe whatever Slytherins he and the others had 'confiscated' things from had been every bit as bad as Malfoy... But maybe they hadn't. Would his father have seen any difference between the Slytherins who sneered and cursed and those who just wanted to be left alone? Would Sirius?

Would he?

Feeling of peace abruptly departed, he replaced the box unopened, gathered his things and left the room.

Dumbledore's announcement came after dinner, the week before they broke up for Christmas.

"I'm afraid I have mixed news for you all. The first, and doubtless most welcome announcement is that the magical barrier outside is being lowered even as we speak, and you will all be able to send and receive owls as normal henceforth." There was an almighty cheer that even the Slytherins joined. Harry glanced across at them, wondering how many were grateful just for the chance to contact their families again... and how many were preparing to renew ties with the Death Eaters.

"On a more unfortunate note," Dumbledore continued, "I am afraid that the school will remain sealed in all other respects, and none of you will be able to return home for Christmas or visit Hogsmeade." The cheer abruptly died into shocked groans and protests. "It is regrettable-" Dumbledore had to raise his voice to cover them - "it is regrettable that we have been unable to arrange otherwise, but for reasons of safety and security and various matters beyond our control, no one will be able to enter or leave the school grounds for the foreseeable future. Naturally, we appreciate that this will be difficult for everyone, particularly at Christmastime, which is why we have gone to great lengths to ensure the owl post be restored. Special arrangements have been made with Gringotts bank and the shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley to make sure that you will still be able to send and receive presents from within the castle, and owl-order catalogues will be available in the house common rooms shortly. Thank you, all, for your consideration and forbearance during this difficult time."

He sat down, but the silence lingered on for a while; everybody was rather stunned.

"Wow," said Ron finally, reaching for the gravy. "Looks like they really are serious about security this year."

"Doesn't affect me," said Harry, trying not to sound bitter and perhaps not completely succeeding. "I wasn't going anywhere anyway."

"It's probably for the best," Hermione said hesitantly.

"At least we've got the owl post back."

Ron groaned. "Like that's supposed to be a good thing? My mum's going to flip her lid. It'll be letters every half hour, you just watch. Are you wearing clean socks, Ron? Look out for your sister, Ron. Don't accidentally challenge You-Know-Who to a one-on-one duel, Ron," he mimicked in a screechy voice.

"Your mum doesn't sound like that at all, Ron," Hermione said sternly, while Harry hid a smirk.

"Not in front of you, she doesn't. She likes you."

Harry and his friends, used to staying at Hogwarts over Christmas and well accustomed to being trapped by restrictive security measures, coped with Dumbledore's bombshell better than most. As they were leaving the Hall, Harry overheard Malfoy pontificating loudly to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I don't care what that old windbag says, no one can hold me here if I don't want to stay. I can go home if I want to. I'd like to see them stop me."

He was heading out of the building, and by unspoken consent, the three of them drew their wands and followed. Harry noticed immediately that the eye-sucking dome was gone - it was a relief to look out and see ordinary sky once more, even dark and overcast as it was.

Malfoy was still ranting, apparently not caring if anyone over heard his brazen declaration that he was going to flout all regulations and just walk out. "Honestly, these people are such sheep. If the old man told them to-" He stopped dead, and Goyle walked right into him.

"I bet that hurt," Ron murmured to Harry, smirking.

Harry wasn't listening. He'd just spotted the exact same thing that had stopped Malfoy in his tracks, out beyond Hagrid's hut.

The dome might be gone, but Hogwarts was still surrounded... by a veritable forest of thorns.

Harry pondered the wisdom of mentioning it in his letter to Remus. Was it a security precaution, or something else entirely? Would Remus already know about it? And if not, did that mean it would be dangerous to mention it in a letter?

Reluctantly, he decided he would probably have to be very careful what he wrote. He drafted the letter more than once, until he was fully satisfied with the tone of it.

Dear Remus,

Sorry for not writing any sooner (you probably know why). I am fine, and so are Ron and Hermione. I haven't had any of those headaches I used to get this year. I am doing really well in Defence Against the Dark Arts, even though Snape is covering our group's lessons. I wish you could have come back, they couldn't even find anyone to teach it this year.

I hope everything is all right your end. We haven't been able to get any news inside the school. Have you seen much of everyone since the summer? It's been really hard, not knowing what's happening outside.

I've been exploring the school a bit since we're cooped up in here (don't worry, I've been taking Ron and Hermione with me, I wouldn't wander round on my own). I found a study near the Owlery that's not on the map. Have you ever been in there? I thought it might be a good place to do my homework.

Harry.

It was a bit short, but he had difficulty thinking what else to write. There was so much he wanted to mention, but it was almost impossible to get it across when he had to use a kind of code. He hoped Remus would understand what he meant by 'headaches', and pick up the way he'd made the 'm' on 'map' sort of halfway between lower case and a capital to try and show he was talking about the Marauder's Map without actually mentioning it by name.

Hedwig appeared extremely relieved to finally be given a letter to deliver, and for the next few days, there seemed to be owls everywhere as everyone tried to catch up with friends and family in the outside world. The Weasleys, Harry was relieved to hear, were all doing fine. It appeared that Percy was being welcomed somewhat gradually back into the fold; he sent Ron a rather stiff letter admonishing him to live up to his Prefect status, and not do anything foolish that might get him killed. Ron was all set to send him an extremely rude reply, but Hermione strong-armed him into writing a proper one.

Copies of the Daily Prophet were eagerly passed around in an effort to catch up on months of missed news. Harry didn't expect the paper to know the full story about anything much, but certainly it seemed that the wizarding world was trundling on much the same as it ever had, albeit much more nervously. There had been tons of minor incidents where Death Eater involvement was 'suspected', but only three confirmed attacks in as many months, with two Aurors and a young witch who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time the only dead.

Everyone knew that Voldemort was back, but what was he up to? This relative calm was even more nerve-wracking than the prospect of an all-out attack. At least if it was war, everybody would have some idea what to do; in some strange way, people would probably have felt safer if they knew they were under threat than constantly wondering about whether they were actually in danger or not.

The reply to his letter to Remus took a rather long time to arrive, and Harry almost pitched forward into his soup with relief when Hedwig finally brought it to him over dinner on the last day of term. He retreated to the Gryffindor dorms to read it.

Dear Harry,

I apologise for taking so long to respond to your very welcome letter, but I have been engaged in business that makes it difficult to keep a regular address. I have spoken with many of the friends you made last year, and all is well with them.

Professor Dumbledore warned us in advance that the school would be incommunicado for a time, but it is still a great relief to hear from you and know that you are well. I hope your friends are not too disappointed at being forced to remain at Hogwarts over the holiday season, but I can assure you that the Headmaster has plans to make the festive season a joyous occasion nonetheless.

I'm glad to hear you're continuing to do well in your Defence Against the Dark Arts studies, although having taught you myself for a year it certainly comes as no surprise. I hope that you are finding the rest of your NEWT subjects similarly easy going; considering the many good reasons you had to be distracted last year, your OWL results were quite remarkable.

If I believed for one moment you would heed me, I would advise you to avoid travelling too far from the more populated areas of the castle in your explorations. Instead, all I ask is that you continue to be sensible and make sure that Ron or Hermione is always with you and that your other friends know where you are.

As it happens, I remember the study that you describe, and somehow I find myself unsurprised that you should stumble on it. It was a favourite place of your father's in our later years at Hogwarts, and I think you will find it similarly hospitable. I agree that it would be a quite excellent place for you to pursue your studies, as I am sure you would be safer there than in almost any other part of the castle. Nonetheless, you should still take a friend when you go, and make sure that people know to look for you there, should there be an emergency.

Please be careful, Harry, and remember I am always here to talk to should you need me.

Your friend,
Remus Lupin.

Harry felt perhaps a little guilty for blithely assuring Lupin that he was being careful and not wandering the castle on his own. But after all, it was broadly true - he never went far, and Ron and Hermione would soon notice his absence if anything went wrong. And he needed some time to himself, or else he would simply just go crazy. If Remus believed, as he himself did, that the study was somewhere that he would be protected, then he would spend his solitary hours there. It was just beneath the Owlery, after all - hardly out of the way.

Still, somehow he didn't want to go back just yet. The thought of that box in the bottom drawer was like a little itch at the back of his brain, preventing him from being truly comfortable. A nagging reminder that three of the men he considered his greatest heroes were far from completely flawless. He couldn't keep trusting only his own judgement - after all, look how many things he'd allowed to come to pass thanks to his own stubborn stupidity. Difficult as it was, he knew he had to make himself share his discoveries and suspicions with other people.

If he didn't, who knew how many more people he might get killed?

The DA met again on the first day of the Christmas holidays. Harry displayed the shield briefly, to general awe.

"We found the shield by following the clue in our common room, but we still don't know what it does," Hermione explained. "From what we know, we think there was probably one more rhyme that appeared before the one in the library. We don't know where it is, and it's likely to be hidden under an illusion, but we need to find it somehow, as it may tell us more about what we need to do with whatever we find from following the other clues."

Ernie Macmillan raised a hand. "If Professor Flitwick covered it up with an illusion, what chance can we possibly have of finding it? I mean, he wouldn't use any charm you could just clear with Finite Incantatem."

"I've been doing some research," Hermione began, and Ron and Harry both hid knowing smiles. "Seeing through illusions was very important during the Goblin uprising in Ireland in 1723, when a group of wizards tried to use Leprechaun gold to-" Ron gave a not-so-subtle cough. "Anyway, there's been a lot of research into charms that will work to dispel illusions even if the caster isn't sure what kind has been used, and here's one that I think should work on almost anything."

She drew her wand. "Imago chair!" There seemed to be, abruptly, one more chair in the front row of seats than there ought to be. Ron waved a hand through it experimentally.

"Neat. Hey, Hermione, how come you never did this to Malfoy's chair in Potions before now?"

Hermione ignored him. "Obviously, this is a very basic kind of copying illusion - Professor Flitwick's is likely to be tactile as well, and probably impervious to most simple magical scans. But this particular incantation ought to be enough to remove it. Exhibero Veritas!"

The chair illusion conspicuously failed to disappear, and Hermione paled considerably, but nobody jeered.

"Do it again, Hermione," Ron said reassuringly. "We all know everybody's magic's a bit messed up."

She swallowed, and raised her wand again. "Exhibero Veritas!" This time, to everyone's great relief, the chair disappeared.

Harry took charge again. "We'll all practise that charm in a minute. The main thing, though, is that everybody has to be on the lookout for these clues. We expect another one to appear at Christmas, and it's probably going to be in one of the other house common rooms, so everybody here who's not in house Gryffindor should keep an eye out."

"What happens if it's in Slytherin?" Ginny was quick to spot the flaw.

"We're working on that," he semi-lied. "Right. Any other questions?"

Dean Thomas raised a hand. "Yes. Why are we living in a giant hedge?"

There were a few nervous giggles, and Harry smiled. "I'm as confused as you are, believe me. Any theories? Hermione?"

She shrugged slightly. "I don't know. It's not any spell I've ever read about, but it can only have been magically grown."

Harry nodded slowly. "I think it was already there, or partially there, the day we arrived. Remember how the teachers made us walk along a really specific path to enter the school?"

"And my Fluctuating Flaxweed went mad," said Neville. "I thought there was something wrong with it, but it must have been reacting to all those invisible hedges."

"The woodlice have been curling anti-clockwise," Luna said knowledgeably. "That's always a sign that they've been eating magical plants."

Padma Patil put her hand up. "Maybe the reason they put the dome up was to hide the hedges until the entrance hole sealed up again?"

"That sounds quite likely," Harry admitted. Hermione looked faintly peeved not to have come up with this suggestion herself. "If that's true, then I suppose we have to assume that it's there as a new line of defence. I mean, otherwise, why would they want to stop us from going in and out?"

"Maybe it's dangerous," said Ernie Macmillan nervously.

"I think it's creepy. It's like being in the overgrown castle in Sleeping Beauty," said Dean. That got him a few funny looks. "It's a Muggle children's story," he elaborated.

"Yes, but who's going to get a prick?" murmured Hermione. Ron's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"What?"

Harry nudged him hastily. "I'll explain later."

The session dissolved soon after that, with nobody able to come up with any more theories or suggestions, and they spent the rest of the afternoon practising creating and shattering simple illusions.

Harry was reminded sharply by his efforts in front of the DA that his use of magic was currently, at best, rather erratic. He knew it was time to take a look at the book Neville had lent him.

He'd had it for weeks, but it had remained tucked safely away with his Invisibility Cloak and the Gryffindor shield. The lurid purple letters on the front screamed Maximise Your Mastery of Magic in a size that he could have read from across the room without his glasses. What was worse, every page seemed to have a bright, bold, cheerful message on it somewhere, assuring him that with time and effort he could overcome his 'difficulties'.

The book might indeed have held some useful advice for handling recalcitrant magical abilities, but he would have died of embarrassment before he got caught reading it.

And only last year, that might have been that. The book would have stayed hidden away until he finally handed it back to Neville with an awkward fib about having skimmed through it and found nothing helpful. But after the disastrous failure with his Occlumency lessons, he knew only too well that the price of rejecting help through his own stubborn pride or pig-headedness was too high to pay.

It had been easy, so easy, to blame it all on Snape, terminating the lessons before he'd even had a chance... But when his frustrated anger had finally flattened and sharpened into grief, he'd known he was at least as much to blame, if not more. Snape might have made only the most token of efforts to educate him, but he'd casually rejected even that - so convinced that he knew better, so convinced that he should follow what he believed and ignore every warning he'd been given.

Harry took another peek at the alarmingly bright book cover, and sighed. If he could handle Snape trying to read his mind, he could certainly handle reading a wizarding self-help book.

Just... not where anyone might see him do it.

It was growing late, but he slipped out of Gryffindor Tower anyway, intending to sneak down to the study again. He hadn't wanted to go back since he'd discovered the box in the bottom drawer, but it was the only place he could think of where he could have complete privacy.

He padded quietly through the school without the cover of his Invisibility Cloak, confident that he could get away with claiming to be heading to the Owlery if questioned. It was Christmas, after all - anyone but Snape would let him off. As it happened, though, he needn't have worried, for the corridors were quiet and empty.

Until he heard somebody scream.