The next day, when Harry woke up, he couldn't find the will to drag himself out of the bed. Ron had left sometime after Harry fell asleep, once being exhausted of screaming and the activities they had done. He only wanted to stay in his room, not leaving the bed for anything. Then he remembered the conquest in eradicating the Necromancy knowledge, he groaned mentally and sighed loudly at the thought. Would he ever get any peace?
Harry finally had got out of his bed, grumbling some insults to himself about a certain Potions Master as he rubbed his right shoulder. He had rammed him into the wall yesterday, and it hurt. Though, he wasn't about to show that he was in pain to the others. After satisfying himself of bearable pain, he left the room to the kitchen. He was suddenly bombarded by the hugs of Molly Weasley who was murmuring some words to Harry, in which he couldn't hear, only because she was muffling the words into his shirt. Rolling eyes to himself, he didn't want to be coddled right now and politely pushed her away.
"Morning Mr-Molly," said Harry, "I'd like something to eat now."
"Of course, Harry," said Molly, sniffling silently, walking back to the oven. Harry found a seat next to Ron, waiting for his breakfast to be served.
"Morning mate," said Ron, drinking his orange juice. Harry nodded his head in assent to his greeting. "What're we going to do today?"
"Well, finish getting the rest of the books, of course," replied Harry. Ron nodded, clearly not appearing to enjoy this. Harry supposed it was because he wanted to do something else; such as playing wizard's chess. 'Honestly, we're not students anymore, we can't be playing chess all the bloody time. Though, I should do something than just going after those damned books,' thought Harry as he accepted his plate of food from Mrs. Weasley. He dug into his breakfast, remembering what countries they had to go to next.
"Harry?" asked Molly tentatively.
"Hmm?" responded Harry, looking up as he swallowed his scrambled eggs.
"Are you going to… ask anyone else for help? I mean, who's helping you?"
"Well, obviously Ron and Hermione," she nodded, "then there's Malfoy too…"
"Malfoy!" whispered Molly urgently. "Why did you include him?"
"He has… connections that we don't," then Harry's face grew stern. "Don't worry Molly, we won't let him do anything out of the line. I can assure you," said Harry, taking another bite into his pancakes.
"Well, he would, but what if he won't let you have the books?"
"He won't, he knows what 's he is risking," said Harry. 'Such as a ticket to Azkaban,' finished Harry in his mind. Molly looked unconvinced but left the issue alone. Grateful for the silence, he finished his breakfast just as Hermione, Snape and Minerva came into the kitchen, all looking rather unhappy.
"Hey, morning Harry," acknowledged Hermione, nervous clearly shown in her eyes. Harry arched an eyebrow, waiting for them to explain why they were nervous.
"Potter, we're here to discuss… your bid in getting rid of a certain branch of magic," drawled Snape.
"Is that a bad thing, Snape? Is that what you're trying to say?" snipped Harry, glaring.
"Yes, of course it's a bad thing, hiding your little secret from others, causing world wide panic!" replied Snape, gathering volume with each word and literally spitting in Harry's face. Feeling threatened, Harry roughly shoved Snape away from him, his space was being invaded.
"Get the hell away from, me Snivellius! I don't need you to be in my personal space to have your shouting matches!" said Harry angrily. He had enough of those shouting matches with his Uncle and he wasn't about to tolerate with this man before him, especially since that he can finally stop cowering before him. Snape, Harry observed, was increasingly getting angry, 'seething's, more like,' Harry thought wryly. He had to admit it was fun riling particular professor up. He saw this as one of the many payments for seven years of unnecessary suffering in Potions class.
"Potter, I don't tolerate your arrogance!"
Harry arched an eyebrow, "Is that the best you can say? I'm disappointed," said Harry with mock dejection in his voice. Snape mumbled something rudely at Harry's response, then spoke more articulately, trying to have some semblance of order.
"We need to get back to the original topic, Mr. Potter. As you so kindly derailed my thoughts," he said, sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Oh, so now you're blaming me for going off topic, are you?" asked Harry coolly, purposely adding more fuel to the fire. He had to use a great amount of self-control to not grin at Snape, let alone snicker. Snape ruffled himself slightly, biting back a yell that Harry was sure he wanted to bellow.
"Shut up and listen, Potter, as Ms. Granger have told me how far you have gotten in your quest. I am quite sure you will need other people's… help, in getting older tomes that are harder to find. Certainly, there are hidden libraries, homes and unknown bookstores."
Harry raised his right eyebrow at this, "Are you helping me, Mr. Snape?" asked Harry. Snape gave an assent of his head in the slightest movement possible. "Well, I suppose more help will be appreciated," said Harry, sighing. "Where's the Daily Prophet?"
"Right here, Harry," said Hermione, slightly relieved that there wouldn't be another fight breaking out. Harry took the newspaper from her and Hermione nearly squeaked in nervousness.
"…Thanks," said Harry, staring at Hermione and at Minerva whose face had gone pale. "Right, now, if that is all, I need to eat my breakfast," said Harry, sitting back down at the table. He opened to the front page as he drank his orange juice. Once he read the headlines, he spit out his drink in anger. He stood up, pointing angrily at the paper.
"WHO TOLD THESE IDIOTS THAT I AM GOING AFTER THE BOOKS!" bellowed Harry and everyone in the room winced. "WELL!"
"Harry, calm down, there's no nee—" Hermione began hesitantly.
"Calm down? Calm down, Hermione!" asked Harry incredulously. "But someone sold us out! I need to know who told the bloody Daily Prophet!" Hermione looked at Minerva who looked at Snape, the two of them looking nervous and Snape looked as cool as ever. "Was it one of you?" asked Harry, eyes widening in unbelievable horror.
"No it wasn't, Harry," said Hermione quickly. "It's… just that we found out that one of the bookstore owner haven't kept it quiet…" Harry groaned loudly at this. Before Harry could ask who it was, Minerva answered for him.
"It was one of the bookshops in Knockturn Alley," she said, frowning. Harry's fists clenched angrily. "One called Domorvis's Books."
"I'm leaving," said Harry tightly. While still holding fast to the Daily Prophet and Harry disapparated to Knockturn Alley before any of them could even say 'no, don't go!' Harry knew where the bookstore was at, it had been the store next to Borgins and Burkes store where he was first introduced to this particular Alley. Harry stormed into the bookstore, finding the same person as the previous day. Reaching the counter, he slammed the paper on the table, snarling.
"Explain this!"
The owner visibly shook with nervousness, staring at the paper in fear. Harry felt satisfied for seeing him behaving scared. "I… I can explain," he began.
"You better well have a good reason to rat me out! Or, help me Merlin, that you do live long to see today's sunset!"
"Th-they offered more money than you have offered me in keeping it silent…" Harry wore a face of bafflement at the answer.
"Are you saying," Harry said calmly as he could, to create the effect of spookiness. "That my offer for each and every month was unsatisfactory?" He did succeed in terrorizing him even more.
"I… I… I'm so sorry, Mr. Potter! Though, the Ministry had come in here, offering five million galleons for the information!"
"Five million galleons?" asked Harry, gritting his teeth. "Has it occurred to you that when I say, I will pay three times the amount of any books on Necromancy, that this would be valid point in keeping you silent, also?"
"Y-you mean, I would have had fi-fiftee—" began the owner of Domorvis's Books but Harry cut him off.
"Exactly, now your chance is gone, along with any monthly payments," said Harry, using the tone to provoke just how much richer the owner could have been. The bookkeeper's face showed of regret, guilt and shame as he looked down at the floor. Harry growled quietly, exhaling deeply. "Good day sir," with that, Harry left the store with the Prophet in hand, after all, he still hadn't read the article yet, and he dreaded the prospect of just what they had reported. Then Harry disapparated away in a secluded alley.
When he reappeared in the kitchen, he found Hermione at the table, fretting over something. She looked up when she heard someone arriving and immediately stood up. "Harry! You didn't do anything drastic, did you?" she asked, worried evident in her eyes. Harry sighed, annoyed and looked at her in the eyes.
"I didn't kill the store owner, if that's what you mean, Hermione," this didn't relieve Hermione of her worries. "What?"
"What did you do to the owner, Harry?" asked Hermione, fingers wringing in her hands.
"Nothing," she gave him an incredulous stare, "I only just gave him a good talking to, spooked him and made him feel guilty, is all."
"Nothing? Absolutely no curses or anything?" asked Hermione skeptically.
"If you don't believe me, why don't you go see him for yourself!" said Harry hotly. He was about to retreat to his room when he heard another voice calling him.
"Potter, stay where you are," drawled Snape. There was no mistaking that voice. Harry slumped his shoulders and turned around to face him. "Have you even read the article?"
"That's the next thing on my To Do list, Snape, now excuse me," said Harry with sarcasm, annoyed for having his time being wasted with the likes of Snape. He immediately left the room before anyone could even retort. He went up the stairs to Sitting room. Finally having a moment's peace to himself, he sat down, looking at the foul thing called newspaper.
Harry Potter is Taking the Books!
Yester-evening, a storeowner have reported to the Ministry on voluntary basis. According to the owner of the Domorvis's Books, The-Boy-Who-Lived have asked for the Necromancy books. As we have reported in the yesterday's evening news; the subjects on Necromancy, most particularly, the books have been reported to be disappearing all over England. The person behind this is none other The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. One would wonder why he wants to get his hands on these especial books.
From what the owner have revealed this shocking news, Harry Potter had offered to pay him five hundred galleons a month to forward any books on Necromancy to Mr. Potter. What's more, he also revealed that he is willing to pay three times the amount of what a customer would bid for. This causes a great stir in the Ministry of Magic, because yester-morning, we assume that it was Mr. Potter who entered the Library of Ministry and destroyed fifty books on the same subject.
Sources also revealed that there had been two other people in on the Library raid and have managed to assume a false identity under the complex Magical Security. Aurors have been forced to investigate how and why the security failed and if they can be failed. Is the Ministry of Magic safe from any dark attack? "In the past, we have upped our security due to the invasion of Department of Mysteries several years ago," said Madame Bones, judge of Wizgamot court and acting Minister of Magic. "I only wish to know why Mr. Potter and whomever else was with him, destroyed those books."
The question remains; what is exactly Mr. Potter's interest in destroying the books, as far as we can conclude. The ashes in the Library of Ministry have been left behind matched the missing books on the shelf, and this assumption leads to that Mr. Potter may be destroying the knowledge of Necromancy.
Is there any motivation behind his actions as to why he seeks to deliberate actions to destroy this magical branch? From what the public and the Prophet knows, Necromancy is rarely practiced and only the powerful wizards and witches can perform. This lead to the speculation of the Final Battle which no one in the Wizarding world knows of the exact details. Does Necromancy have anything to do with this Final Battle? If there is, then something drastic must have happened to cause The-Boy-Who-Lived to be on this quest.
Only two details that we have gathered from the Final Battle is that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers are destroyed. The other detail is that they had fought in the graveyard where The-Boy-Who-Lived's parents, Lily and James Potter—
Harry threw the newspaper angrily at the wall, his wild magic lashing out at the Daily Prophet with the fire sparks. Before his eyes, he saw the paper crumbled up and burned before his eyes and the last articulate print he could read was:
If—true? Then we must help—at all cost.
The place where the newspaper laid had ended up in ashes and soot, the fire extinguished. Sighing, he felt really annoyed, that he was sure of; though, anger seem to still seeping out through his fingers, causing the soot recreated the fire; and he produced the flames to grow bigger. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn't know how to deal with this, if they're going to help, then most surely the people who held Dark Arts as the highest hobby of theirs will most certainly not give away to Malfoy.
With that thought in mind; he summoned ink, quill and parchment with the wave of his wand. He began writing a letter to Malfoy about the obstacle they had run into. Oh, he was sure that Malfoy saw the article by now and may be sending a letter on his way. Still, it was better to get in touch than none at all.
Malfoy,
Whatever you do, misdirect the people you are contacting; after all, the news that I am sure you have received; via bloody Daily Prophet. If you fail to persuade them, well, there's that saying, 'Desperate times call for desperate measures.' And I really would not like to retort to that.
Anyway, I'm going to use their help to my advantage and I'm sure you know whom I mean. That bloody Prophet of course, along with the Wizarding world that is willing to cooperate. Report anything that comes up unexpectedly or not being very persuasive.
Tell me where to meet so you can hand over the books and for any money exchanges to get the books off other people that you have written/spoken to.
Potter
With that, he went downstairs to find Hedwig snoozing on the stand. Harry spoke softly to her, "Hey girl," she opened one eye, hooting sleepily. "I need you to deliver something for me." She hooted positively and Harry smiled in answer. "Thanks Hedwig, here's the letter, it's for Malfoy." She took the letter and as Harry opened the window, she flew out. He watched his owl disappear into the midmorning light and heaved a sigh. To his dismay, he heard a clearing throat behind him, Harry struggled not to roll his eyes as he turned around to face Snape again.
"What?" snapped Harry, his patience waning.
"Don't take that tone with me, Potter," said Snape coolly. "Now, what's next on your agenda?"
"Must you know every bloody detail of what I do, Snape?" growled Harry, glaring.
"I merely wish to know, so that the others won't harp on me, asking pointless questions. I am the leader of the Order after all," he said snidely.
"If you care so much about the bleeding Order, I can move out! It's not out of my power, you know. So, leave me the hell alone," said Harry, glaring daggers at Snape who glared back. Neither was backing off from their glaring-contest. It took Hermione and Ron to interrupt the pair, like a knife through hard leather.
"What's going on?" asked Hermione, both of their faces snapping to Hermione. She jumped slightly at their sudden move and Ron paled slightly, the tension had been too thick for their own good.
"Nothing," said Harry, looking back at Snape. "Absolutely nothing of the sort, come on Hermione, Ron, we need to get the rest of the books."
With that, the trio left the dining room into the hall. Hermione tried to say something to Harry but he held his hand up for silence.
"No, I don't want to talk about it right now, we're going to just focus on getting the rest of the books. I wrote to Malfoy a letter about our unexpected… obstacle," he sneered. For the rest of the day, Hermione, Ron and Harry had managed to get the rest of the books in Europe; including the places in Asia. Harry felt glad to be getting over with the places in Europe and Asia. The people, he noted, from all over Europe and Asia had been helpful in giving all the books to Harry when they had read the news.
It was then that Harry realized that the meaning of Wizarding world, it had meant exactly that. He wondered just how affected everyone in the whole face of the planet was by Voldemort's first reign of power. There had been enough clues to indicate that it was widespread. Never in his wildest dream that it had been that widespread. In one of the stores in China, he saw that some witches were familiar with English language and holding the blasted Daily Prophet. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about how connected are the British wizards and witches are with the rest of the world.
It was all ready embarrassing enough not to know enough information about the world he belonged to and Hermione is a muggle-born. He vaguely regretted in not taking his studies more seriously as Hermione had. Shrugging mentally, he disapparated to Grimmauld place to drop off ten books he got from a library in Nepal.
Exhausted, he flopped onto a couch as Hermione apparated before him, carrying at least forty books. She dropped the books with a soft 'oh'.
"There were so many books in one small bookstore! It was shocking to say the least..." she commented about the place she was in previously. "So, how are you doing, Harry?"
"Tired, I'm about to just drop dead," said Harry tiredly. Hermione frowned at Harry's words and tutted.
"You better not be, Harry," said Hermione just as Ron apparated into the room, dropping off five books. He too, flopped to the couch just as Harry had.
"I'm never going to wake up for two weeks!" exclaimed Ron, thoroughly exhausted. Hermione sat down with better grace than the two boys into a seat next to Harry.
"So, how many books is that?" asked Harry, gesturing to the today's pile of books. He then leaned back into the couch, indulging himself in the comforts of the sofa.
"Hmm, let me have a—" she waved her wand over the pile of books, "—a count of these and we've only collected six hundred and forty-four books…" she said with a frown.
"Well, that's a better number than I thought, commented Harry. "I thought we'd be around four hundred books down."
"You're right, we did cover a lot more books than expected, so we're around three-thousand if my calculation is correct," said Hermione, taking the reference book out again and wrote the numbers. "Okay, you can destroy it now, Harry—" Harry lit the books on fire with the wave of his hand in an angry motion. "Harry!" exclaimed Hermione in surprised. "Calm down, okay? We can't have you being angry—"
"Who're you to tell me, Hermione?" asked Harry, growling softly and then sighed. "Sorry, I didn't… Sorry, I'm just stressed and angry. I'm calling it night, good night you two," with that he went to his room to sleep.
Thank you for reading this story and I would love to have some constructive criticisms. To one reviewer who commented on my use of vocabulary: thanks for the heads up, sherylyn. To quote the reviewer: Sometimes the mark of true intellect is not showing off how smart. I wholely agree, and I'll agree with that. Anyway, don't forget to review.
By the way, the story is drawing to a close, around three to four chapters.