Second Edition
Chapter
5
The next day arose as Harry woke up from his fitful slumber. He let out a tired sigh and decided he would try and mingle with his friends today. He knew what he had to do; his task wouldn't stop him from… interacting. As it is, Ron was right, he did have plenty of time to himself, and it was high time to come out voluntarily. Cautiously, as to make sure no one caught him walking out of his room, he found the hallway clear. He made his way to the kitchen.
When he arrived in the kitchen, he heard conversations and stopped short, not announcing himself. He withdrew to a darker corner to hear what they were saying. Hermione's voice spoke.
"Really Ron, you ought to be more patient with Harry, he's always told us secrets when he was ready. Don't you remember the prophecy? He told us the exact wording sometime in March, nearly a year after Harry had heard it himself—"
"No, Hermione! I'm not going to wait a year for him to tell us what's bugging him!"
"Ron! You are being such an insensitive prat!" yelled Hermione.
'Wow, they're fighting and I only just woke up… I'm amazed… arguing at such an early hour," thought Harry, amused.
"Thanks Hermione," said Harry, walking to the table.
"Thanks Harry, see—Harry?" yelped Hermione, surprised. Ron stood up, knocking the chair over behind him.
"Harry! Wh—what's going on? Why are you down here?"
"Decided to have my normal breakfast with you two. Dobby, can you get us something to eat?" asked Harry, snapping Dobby out of his stupor.
"Yes, Harry sir! Dobby will get your breakfasts now!" With that, he snapped his fingers and the food appeared at the table. Harry nodded his thanks, and the three began eating. Only Hermione, and Ron were eating slower and conversing, but seemingly cautiously as if waiting for something to happen. But Harry didn't do anything out of ordinary. In fact, it was as if Harry had never holed himself up in his room.
"Harry, any particular reason why you suddenly want to be down here?" asked Hermione.
"Well, Ron was right about one part, I've holed up in my room for nearly two weeks. I had to come out sometime, don't I?"
"Ha! At least my words were worth something, eh, Hermione?" said Ron.
"Yes, I suppose so, Ron," said Hermione, smiling at least they seemed to be helping Harry. "So, what are you going to be doing today?"
"Er—well, see, that's sort of a—well, okay, I'm doing... an errand...er, that I will be doing," began Harry. Hermione and Ron immediately looked askance at Harry, waiting for him to continue his answer to Hermione's question. Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm going to—well damn, I suppose I'll—I—" Harry couldn't believe he would have to tell him what transpired between him and Voldemort in order to tell them about eradicating any and all text books on Necromancy. Harry hung his head in defeat. It was only two weeks after the Final battle, and he had sworn to himself he wouldn't tell anyone.
"Actually, never mind, I'll just do it on my own," mumbled Harry, continuing on eating his breakfast. Ron nearly spat out his drink at Harry's answer.
"What do you mean, on your own? It's not anything dangerous, is it?" asked Ron, as Hermione scrutinized her emerald-eyed friend.
"No, no, not dangerous. Well actually, define dangerous, because I'm always involved with something that has to do with danger," said Harry in an almost sarcastic tone.
"Yeah, mate, you've got a point there…" said Ron.
"Does it have to do with fighting anything? Putting your life on the line?" Hermione questioned.
"I don't know about the putting my life on the line part, Hermione, I've gotten used to that," replied Harry. "But I'm not going to be fighting anyone or anything. Provided they don't fight me."
"Then that's a dangerous situation!" cried Hermione. "Please tell us what you're going to do…"
Harry studied his friends for a long time, as he continued eating his breakfast, never breaking eye contact with them. He was trying to come up with an answer so that they could somehow help… He finally finished his breakfast and pushed the plate away from him. He enjoyed the nice scent of the pumpkin juice and drank it. Only after drinking, did Harry finally break the silence.
"I'm eradicating any and all text books on…"
"What, erasing information?" blurted Hermione.
"Hermione, do you want to know or not? You haven't heard my reasons," snapped Harry. "In fact, it has to do with the Final Battle. I'm still not sure if I'm willing to tell you or not!"
"I—I'm sorry, Harry," whimpered Hermione, shocked at Harry's behavior, She knew there were always some form of inconstancy that Harry had been forced to experience in his short lifetime. Harry knew both his friends were speechless; the air was filled with the antagonized need for him to continue what he was saying.
"Anyway, I know that trying to find the information I want gone is practically impossible to find all of it. It's universally recognized, but not very often practiced…"
"What do you mean, not very often practiced?" asked Hermione, curious. She was trying to figure out what had transpired in the last battle with the dark. Harry looked away from Hermione and continued.
"It was such a good bit of machination Voldemort came up with, it was almost flawless, I—I thought I wouldn't make it."
"But you escaped almost with no injuries, so how can you—"
"Please be quiet, Hermione!" said Ron, wanting Harry to continue. Hermione kept quiet, showing praise to Ron for interrupting her beginning of speech and waited for Harry to continue.
"Voldemort nearly succeeded in distracting me so he could kill me," said Harry.
"What did he do?" asked Hermione fearfully, dreading the worst case scenario.
Flash back
"How dare you take most of my faithful followers! They will never be able to experience my wrath since they're dead!" yelled Voldemort. Then he threw a paroxysm of wand movements around him in the graveyard. Dead Death Eaters and corpses from their Final Resting places stood up. The joints creaked as the rotting bodies moved and moved into a half-circle behind Voldemort. The bones of the dead were covered by old, dirty, torn cloths.
At the end of the large semicircle, Harry spotted his dead parents, crusts of skin attached to their bones. Organs spewing out randomly and back inside. Their brains were visible as they held by several threads of spinal cord from their necks. He hoped it wasn't them; they were nearly unrecognizable except for the familiar straggly hair they still had and the eyes… The horrible shrunken, shriveling, cold dead eyes…
Flash Forward
Harry stopped talking at that point, shaking visibly. He couldn't believe he had actually told them. He told them, the damned secret! 'Damn, damn, damn! I'm so screwed, damn, damn, damn…' He looked up slowly to see the look on his best friend's faces. The two shared the same look: surprise, shock, horror and sadness for their friend.
"Oh Harry," murmured Hermione, "T-that was Necromancy?"
Harry didn't say or move any parts of body to affirm Hermione's answer. He didn't need to answer anyway, he knew Hermione could figure it all out and piece things together.
"Is that what you wanted to get rid of?"
Harry finally gave a small nod. He saw Ron was paling faster than a new ghost could. He tried to speak but none of the words came out at first.
"Yeah, that's what I want to get rid of. I know it's an universal thought, who wouldn't want to control dead bodies? Though, in actually doing the magic, Necromancy is rare. I know the only powerful wizard or witches can do that particular magical branch. So, since I killed Voldemort, it means I can do Necromancy. If I can do it, then others, present or future, can do Necromancy as well," said Harry, slumping his shoulders.
"What do you mean, Necromancy?" snapped a voice entering the kitchen. Harry's blood grew cold as lead dropped deep in his stomach. The lump in his throat grew bigger. He slowly turned to face the person who had entered the room. Harry couldn't speak but tried to say something in his defense.
"Well? I don't have all day Potter!"
"S-Snape—you shouldn't have heard that," said Harry.
"So, that's what you meant by bringing your dead parents back…" muttered Snape. Harry glared at him, wanting nothing more than to hex him to hell and back.
"What do you mean, what he meant by bringing dead parents back?" interrupted Hermione. Snape turned to her, sneering.
"Your friend here, slipped up only the day after he defeated the Dark Lord. Really, you should have listened to what he said. Now Potter, why did you decide to pay us such … confidentiality, when you wanted nothing more than to take that secret to beyond the grave?" Harry stood there resolutely, not giving up this fight. "Very well, carry on," said Snape, leaving the kitchen as someone else entered it with a confused look.
"What did you three do to piss off—three? Harry!" exclaimed Bill. "You're out of your room!"
"Yes, obviously," said Harry sarcastically.
"Well, at least you're okay," said Bill, unfazed by Harry's attitude as he made his breakfast of toast. "Are you three up to anything today?"
"Yes, running an errand," replied Harry, before the other two could say anything.
"Ah, that reminds me, there's something I have to take care of in one of the banks in Greece…" murmured Bill as he took the toast. "Take care of yourselves, bye!" He apparated away with a soft pop; Ron shook his head slightly.
"You'll have to forgive him Harry, he's been somewhat showing off a bit to us. And Fleur, I might add," said Ron, snickering. Harry grinned.
"What about Fleur?"
"You know Bill's teaching her English, right?"
"Yeah," replied Harry.
"He's impressing her with his knowledge of the English language and is using Greece as an excuse to leave to see her."
"Ah, I see," said Harry, grinning as well. "Well, I'm sorry but I have my task to take care of now." Harry went on, changing subjects. "Will you join me?"
"Yeah, but where would we begin?" asked Ron, somewhat at loss for words. "I mean, the texts you want to find to destroy are probably in a location as rural as the nearest star." But Harry and Hermione were imperturbable to Ron's comment about trying to find any of the books on the art of raising the dead.
"Oh Ron, don't act so petty, you do know I have granted permissions to use restricted and use any to my liking," said Hermione. Ron nodded, slumping his shoulders.
"You're right, but where would we begin?"
"We will begin to search all the libraries to find patterns for the findings of the books. Then we will…" she paused and turned to Harry with a questioning look. "How will we destroy the library books?"
"I'll just tell them I—actually, I don't know. We could do it privately and let the librarians worry for themselves."
"No Harry, that's rude!" said Hermione, wary of his attitude.
"Fine, how about I just buy the books?" asked Harry.
"That would work," said Hermione, nodding. Then she thought for awhile. "But how will we stop people who print them?"
"How do we know if there are any writers who are alive, still writes about how to be a necromancer?" Ron added.
"Well, that's what researching is for," said Hermione, with an air of her usual determination Harry recognized from Hogwarts.
"Yeah, you're right," said Ron sullenly and nodded in agreement with Hermione.
"Anyway Harry, you shouldn't do anything to make the situation worse—just buy the books," said Hermione meaningfully.
"Yes, yes, I know Hermione," said Harry, somewhat exasperated. "You really don't need to keep showing the intellectual speech of your conscience at every turn when I try to make a decision for myself. Can we just get going?" Hermione looked hurt, but nodded.
"First, to the Auror's library!" exclaimed Hermione.
"You have permission to go there! Wicked!" exclaimed Ron excitedly.
"Of course I have the permission to use their library," said Hermione smugly. "Let's apparate to the Ministry of Magic. We can look up all records each library has that pertain to what we're looking for."
"The Auror's library has things like that?"
"Well, considering how dangerous and dark Necromancy is, I would have to say yes, let's go," she said, disapparating with a crack.
The two boys disappeared as well and reappeared in the Atrium Hall. Coincidentally, the ex-Minister of Magic was there, hands cuffed and held by two of the aurors. Harry gave a radiant grin; Fudge seemed really unhappy. He was also tilting back and forth on his feet, trying to get rid of his nervousness while the two aurors were talking about one thing or another. Hermione led the boys to the wand-weighing place. After they were done with that, the trio proceeded to the lifts.
After Hermione pressed the button, Harry waited to arrive on the ninth floor. He tried not to think anything from the Department of Mysteries. When they got off, Hermione spoke up as they all went down the stairs, past the court he had been held in, years ago.
"We will have to do some bit of traveling. The library isn't very easy to access."
Ron let out an incessant noise, grumbling softly about walking for a distance. Hermione was right, the library wasn't very easy to access as he had once thought. First, they had to go through a place to answer the password. Then, they had to avoid a number of dangerous obstacles.
In one place, the hallway seemed to act as if they were trying to check for any sinful feelings toward the books. Harry had to mask his intentions to burn the Necromancy texts by using Occlumency. He didn't need Hermione to give a reproachful lecture about not masking the feelings.
They reached the library at last. What Harry saw made him stop and Ron ran into him from behind. The sheer size was amazing. Then a voice spoke.
"State your names please." Harry felt dismayed that they were going to record the magical signatures of who came in and who left with books. Before he could say so, Hermione pressed her finger to her lips for the others to be quiet.
"Hermione Jane Granger, and I have two guests with me, Harry James Potter and Ronald Billlius Weasley," said Hermione, not concerned in the slightest. For that, Harry calmed down. "We have intentions to find all textbooks on Necromancy, including the index for books on Necromancy for all other books throughout the world. Muggle and wizarding alike."
"I will grant you your wishes," replied the voice and one section of the library glowed red and Hermione nodded. Harry felt he was back to his old amateur eleven-year-old self. The archiving of books were placed better than even of Hogwarts. He really hoped Hermione knew what she was doing. Or they would be royally screwed. Hermione pulled out the books were glowing red while she ordered Ron to get the blue book Harry saw in the other section of the library.
"That is the index book that will allow us to find all the books we can, for now," explained Hermione and Ron nodded. Ron walked off while Harry pulled out the glowing red books at one end opposite from Hermione. He was amazed and surprised at the sheer number of books on Necromancy. He felt a little guilty, getting rid of knowledge, but it was too dangerous for anyone to handle or wield. Then he remembered the fight with Voldemort and felt better. Yes, he knew this was for the best.
Ron came back with not only one suspected book, but five. He gaped not only because of the amount of books, but at the fact that on the spine of each book said 'Index on Necromancy,' and each book was over one inch thick. Oh, there was much to do. He frowned, there were just too many books.
"How are we going to get to all the books?" asked Harry, speaking out loud.
"I don't know, it's going to take us years, that's for sure," Hermione replied.
Harry furrowed his brow. There had to be a faster way to get rid of the books than going to one building to the next. He looked to Hermione for help but she, too, was thinking hard. She bit her bottom lip, concerned.
"If you have an idea, please tell me," said Harry quietly. Hermione looked at Harry, worry evident in her eyes.
"I know this idea won't be at all amenable, but… we—could ask other people to help."
"Wonderful! Why don't we announce my secrets to the world?" asked Harry sarcastically. "No, we have to do this ourselves."
"Harry, I'm only trying to help!"
"I know… I know…" gushed Harry.
They began pouring over the texts to see how many places they'd have to go. After what seemed like half an hour had passed, Hermione spoke up again in an exclamation.
"I don't believe it! There are 7,439 books on Necromancy, 4540 of those books is dedicated in telling you how to become a necromancer. This is bad, Harry."
Harry sat there, dumbfounded. Seven thousand, four-hundred and thirty-nine books? "How many places?"
His friend exhaled in irritation. "I reckon that there are around 3,400 places to go."
"This will take years!" said Ron, horrified at the thought. Harry had to agree, unless they acted fast.
"Well, we have about fifty books on Necromancy right here, so that will definitely be a start." Harry said, half to himself.
"Hardly a number compared to how many are out there," said Ron bitterly.
"We have to look at the big picture, Ron," said Harry. Harry saw his friends think for a minute; Ron finally nodded.
"Yeah… the big picture. So, do we destroy those books now?" asked Ron. Hermione bit her bottom lip, apprehensive in destroying such precious books, but the knowledge was power. Too much power. She sighed and nodded. Harry took his wand out, waiting for her signal of affirmation.
"Wait Harry. We have to mask the magic," Hermione stated, waving her wand. He found himself surrounded by a bubble of glowing green color. "That way, they can't detect any books are being destroyed, until it's too late."
"And when will that be?" asked Harry. Hermione smirked.
"We can leave the bubble, and we'll just head back out. By the time we're out of the Ministry, the bubble will disappear."
"But what about registering our names?" asked Ron, pointing out the vital information.
"That, I have already taken care of," she said, waving her wand again, she spoke some unintelligible words and some sparks flew out at the tip. "Now we're under a different name." Harry only blinked at her, now suddenly a bit afraid. Sure, he's taken down Voldemort, but there was Hermione, doing things so the Ministry won't detect a single thing. And the way she was acting, was a bit terrifying if he thought about it. Harry nodded, then he cast the fire spell.
"Incendio," said Harry, lighting the books on fire. "How long does the bubble last anyway?"
"About fifteen minutes, but since I put in more of my magic, it should last around thirty to forty minutes. Enough to make sure this place doesn't catch on fire and allows us to get out of here."
"Emflamare Protare," said Harry, to prevent the fire from spreading from the now flaming books to other objects. "There, now we can get out." He left the library, followed by an amazed Hermione and Ron.
"Where did you learn that, Harry?"
"Oh, in one of the books before I had to face Voldemort for the second to last time," replied Harry. "Useful."
"Are you saying you've burnt something else like that?" Hermione asked.
"Something like that, yeah," replied Harry, as everyone worked their way back out to muggle London.