Chapter 28 – Remembering the World Outside

Harry didn't know about Remus' conversation with Snape. He didn't know that Remus had been researching Necromancy, either. Actually, the teenager was convinced that his former teacher had given Sirius up already, and the fear that Remus and Professor Dumbledore would do something to cut the connection to Sirius soon drove him into frantic research. He had quickly forgotten about Snape's warning concerning what he was about to do.

Harry knew a couple of things about Necromancy now. He knew that it was a branch of magic designed to bring back the dead. It had been outlawed nearly two centuries before, but that didn't mean that nobody had tried to perform it ever since. On the contrary, attempts at performing necromantic rites could be found in any time Harry had looked into, though most of them had failed. Because, and that was Harry's biggest problem about the whole thing, one needed to be a Necromancer to perform such a rite. And a talent for Necromancy was not something that could be learned, but could only be inherited. Harry was fairly sure that he didn't have that talent, but knowing as little as he actually did about his family, it was not impossible. That was something he'd still have to look into.

Even if Necromancy had been designed to bring back the dead, a state which could not exactly applied to Sirius right now because he was still connected to the world of the living, Harry was convinced that if there was a way to bring Sirius back, this was it. Sirius might not be really dead, but it was only his connection to Remus responsible for that, so if there was a way to bring him back, it had been a way that was cut out to bring back the dead.

Through his thorough research, Harry was also painfully aware of what he was lacking. If he could truly attempt to bring Sirius back, then he needed to get back into the Ministry of Magic. Worse, he needed to get back into the Department of Mysteries. All the books he had read spoke of performing the rite with the body of the deceased. Harry didn't exactly know what had happened to Sirius' body after he had fallen through the veil, and he hadn't been able to find out more in any of the books he had leafed through for information about the archway. But in all honesty, Harry didn't know if he'd have dared to dig up Sirius' body on a graveyard, anyway. If he now didn't have a body to perform the rite with, then the next possible thing that came to his mind was to return to the archway.

Getting into the Department of Mysteries was one thing, and not an easy one. But even more difficult would be the performance of the rite as such. The books Harry had read gave a general description of what such a rite was all about, but nowhere he had been able to find a book that contained a detailed description of such a rite. There was such a book, such guidelines, Harry had found them mentioned more than once in the literature he had used. The problem about it was that this obviously was not a book which could be found in an ordinary library or bookstore. Rather, Harry got the feeling that a detailed description on how to perform a necromantic rite was something that was passed along amongst those who had the talent for this branch of magic. It made sense. For one, nobody else would need such a detailed description. In addition to that, Harry had gathered by now that Necromancers were not exactly the kind of people to brag with their abilities. On the contrary, most of them tried to keep it a secret to prevent being publicly shunned for what they were. It seemed that Necromancers didn't have a much better standing in wizarding society than for example werewolves, though for different reasons. The talent to raise the dead, though not under just about any circumstances, didn't only hold a certain fascination for other people, it also caused fear. So those who had the talent for Necromancy mostly did everything to keep it from becoming public knowledge. But if Harry wanted to have only a slight chance to succeed despite his not being a Necromancer, the least he needed was such a detailed description. And for that he needed help.

Snape would not offer him that help, that much had become obvious the previous evening. Harry was sure that his professor knew more about Necromancy than he let on, but Harry had no idea how to extract that information from him. But there had to be books about that, there simply had to be. Not in the library, though, Harry had spent a couple of hours there in search of it. Professor Dumbledore might have one, or know where to find one, but if he did, there was no way for Harry to get to it. He could hardly sneak into the headmaster's office and take it, his journey would be over in front of the stone gargoyle already. And even if he managed, Dumbledore would know. Somehow, Dumbledore would know.

He could sneak into Snape's workroom or his office, he knew that the man kept quite a number of books there. But that would feel like clutching the final straw. This was, after all, Snape. Harry might not like the man, but by now he knew that Snape was a thoroughly educated man, especially concerning the Dark Arts. With a shiver, he thought back on his strange conversation with the potions master after he had mentioned Necromancy. But that he knew about it in general terms didn't mean that he had any knowledge on the specifics. Most probably, he stored his most precious potions books in his office and nothing more, sneaking in there was not an option right now. It didn't promise any success, and Harry didn't have time to waste at the moment.

With a deep sigh, Harry took the few parchments he had brought to the library this morning and left the rooms. If he was already pondering over those things, he could as well do it in more comfortable surroundings. Five minutes later, he tickled the pear in the painting that marked the entrance to the kitchens. Harry hadn't eaten that much breakfast this morning, and he could do with a little snack right now.

It was Dobby who came to greet him, and after a few enthusiastic bows, the house elf only too gladly provided Harry with a huge glass of pumpkin juice and an enormous ham and cheese sandwich. Harry settled at one of the tables with his plate and unpacked his parchments again. He barely noticed that Dobby was still hovering beside him, sneaking the occasional glance at what he was working on. Instead, Harry took a sip of his juice, stared down at the parchment and began to brood.

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After dinner that evening, Harry spent another exhausting hour in Snape's office with his Occlumency lesson. Snape seemed to find out quickly that something else was on Harry's mind that day, and he used the teenager's distraction mercilessly. The only thing that was worse than the feeling that Snape could penetrate his mind more easily that evening were the man's snappy remarks. Snape didn't lose one word about the fact that Harry had already been able to stop him far more easily before, instead he treated him as if he was a particularly thick student who just couldn't understand a simple lesson.

Harry didn't like to be treated thusly, especially not by Snape, but this evening he had forced himself to remain silent. He knew that he had promised Remus to take his Occlumency lessons seriously, and normally he did, but today he only wanted to get out of Snape's office as quickly as possible. He needed to get back to his work, he knew that he still had a lot of researches to do, and far too little time to conduct them.

Before he went back into the library, however, he sat down in his dormitory with a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote a letter to Ron. He didn't particularly like to involve his best friend in something that was both, illegal and potentially dangerous, but somehow he needed to get into the Ministry of Magic. He'd figure out a way on his own there, but to get into the building, Harry needed Ron's help.

Dear Ron,

how are things going? In case you're having a boring holiday, rest assured that things aren't overly exciting here, either. Add to that my nightly Occlumency sessions with the git, and you know what it's like. Remus collapsed again, twice, in case nobody has told you that before. I'm worried about him, but it seems as if there is nothing that can be done. Well, there is one thing, but I don't want to write about it in a letter. I need your help with something, but I'd rather talk to you about it in person. Do you think you can manage to fire-call me here? I'm in the common room every evening past nine.

Say hi to Hermione for me in case she's back already, but please don't tell her that I'm planning something. I don't think she'd quite agree with what I'm about to do.

Say hi to Ginny and the rest of your family from me,

Harry.

Harry re-read the letter twice, then came to the conclusion that he hadn't let anything slip which was not supposed to be in a letter which could either be intercepted or – probably even worse – read by somebody else than Ron. He was fairly sure that Hermione or Mrs. Weasley would suspect something if they read the secretive undertone in his letter. But he was also convinced that this letter would not tell anybody exactly what he was up to, so he took it up to the owlery to send it.

He knew that he was not supposed to send Hedwig to headquarters on a regular basis, as a white owl she was much to conspicuous, but this once would not be too much. Hedwig was sitting on a high beam in the owlery, but as Harry whistled and called for her, she gracefully spread her wings and descended towards him, landing on an old desk next to where Harry stood. She stretched out her leg, and Harry tied the parchment around it.

"Take this to Ron for me, will you? He's at Grimmauld Place. Try not to fly in broad daylight, and be careful. Good girl."

He gave her an owl-treat, and Hedwig affectionately nipped his finger before she spread her wings again and flew out of the window into the evening sky. Harry looked after her for some long moments, until he finally turned around and left the room, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

As he entered the common room, he found Remus sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace. He turned around as Harry entered the room, and the teenager had the feeling that his former teacher had been waiting for him.

"Hello Harry. How was your lesson?"

Harry shrugged and sank down on one of the sofas.

"All right. Well, I wasn't really focussed, I've already had better lessons this summer."

Remus nodded, his hands folded around a cup of hot chocolate.

"Could it be that you weren't exactly focussed because you had your researches in mind?"

Harry shrugged, but his eyes narrowed a bit.

"What do you mean?"

Remus put his cup down on the table beside the armchair and leaned forward, his folded hands placed on his knees.

"You left your notes on the table yesterday."

Harry immediately turned his head towards the table where he had put his notes the day before, just as if he could not believe what Remus had said.

"It isn't my style to pry", Remus continued. "But when I cleared away the dishes, they caught my eye. Or rather, one word caught my eye, and it alarmed me so much that I had a closer look at them. I think we need to talk about it."

"What do you mean?", Harry repeated, his voice a bit lower than earlier.

"I know that you've been researching Necromancy throughout the past days."

Harry nodded, not really knowing what to say. Remus remained calm, but he didn't take his eyes away from Harry.

"Harry, I might not know everything that is going on inside of you, but I know that you miss Sirius. You have every right to. And nothing speaks against your searching for a way to bring Sirius back. Merlin knows I'd be glad if there was an alternative to what we are planning to do. But Necromancy is a very dangerous thing, and not something I'd want to see you entangled in."

"Why?"

Remus looked down at his hands for a moment, then up at Harry again.

"It is illegal, for one. More importantly, because it is a dangerous thing to play around with. Necromancy is a branch of magic which promises immense power. Who would not like to have the power over life and death, who would not want to be able and bring back the ones who had to die far too early, and innocently? But it's nothing that can be easily yielded, Harry. The most powerful wizards had hesitations in using it, including Voldemort. Necromancy can unleash a lot of things that cannot be predicted or controlled. And only those with the inborn ability can perform it. It is nothing you should research with such an intensity, because it is no power you can use."

"But everything I read, it just sounded so…"

"Easy and promising?", Remus finished for him. "I know. But it isn't."

Harry turned and looked at his notes on the table, as if they could answer the questions in his mind. Finally, he shook his head and looked at Remus.

"I just don't know what to do, Remus."

Remus nodded. "I know, I feel the same. And helplessness is hard to deal with, it's a feeling that's driving you to cling to the most unlikely straws. But please keep in mind that this kind of magic is no solution, for nothing."

"But have you ever been feeling that you desperately have to do something? That you don't know what it is, but that there is something, and you simply have to find out what it is and do it?"

"Of course I know that feeling. That's why I understood your desire to research blood-bonds so well. You're afraid that time is running out for you, afraid that there is a way out of all of this and you find it too late. Maybe I should have seen that you put too many hopes into those researches. Harry, it's okay not to lose hope until there is definitely nothing to keep it alive anymore. It's okay to consider every possible way to make what you're hoping for come true. But not – under no circumstances – if that means crossing certain lines. When hope becomes so desperate that you're willing to consider doing something that in all actuality could cause more harm than good, then you're on the wrong track."

Harry sighed and nervously twisted his hands in his lap. He understood what Remus meant, yet he didn't know if Remus truly understood the need Harry felt to something. Maybe his motivation was purely selfish, but he was not willing to throw away the small chance that he could one day have a family. None of Harry's understanding of family was based on experience, but he had always imagined this to be a crucial point of it – not giving up on each other, being there for each other and doing everything one could do to protect the other. To save the other. Sirius was all the family Harry had ever had, he simply could not give up on him. That would feel like betrayal.

He was torn out of his thoughts when Remus put a hand on his arm. When Harry looked up, he found himself at the receiving end of a very intense amber gaze.

"Promise me that you won't try to yield a power that would take far more from you than it might give. I know that you want Sirius back, but nothing is worth giving up yourself to the darkness."

Harry bit his lip, then he nodded.

"I promise."

"Good." Remus leaned back with a sigh, as if a weight had been taken off his chest. "Thank you, Harry."

They remained silent for some moments in growing uneasiness, then Harry got up and vanished up into his dormitory. Remus' words were still ringing in his ears. His former teacher couldn't know it, but he had used nearly the same words that Snape had said to him when he had asked about Necromancy. As he threw his parchments into his trunk and lay down on his bed, he allowed his thoughts to wander to the question whether he wasn't indeed following the wrong idea. He didn't particularly care about Snape, but Remus seemed really bothered by Harry's researching Necromancy. Harry had learned to trust Remus implicitly, but right now he was struggling between his faith in Remus' advice and his despair about bringing back his godfather. And yet he didn't know which of those feelings was stronger.

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The next morning, Harry awoke with a headache. He didn't exactly remember when he had fallen asleep last night, but it had been after a long time of brooding, which was probably why he felt like shit this morning. He still hadn't gotten past his dilemma, though. He still felt the nearly desperate need to bring Sirius back, and he was still convinced that there had to be a way to achieve it. Only, he was no longer really sure if he could pull this through.

After a long hot shower, Harry's headache had subsided a little and he felt better. When he descended into the common room, he was surprised to find Dobby bouncing up and down next to the table on which he had served breakfast. The house elf was normally not the calmest creature on earth, but this morning he seemed extraordinarily excited. And normally, he didn't wait for Harry to show up after he had served breakfast, if it was Dobby who served breakfast every morning, anyway. Harry had never actually seen which house elf brought up the food.

"Good morning, Dobby", Harry mumbled and sat down at the table. He wasn't particularly hungry, but now with Dobby standing right next to him, he'd at least pretend to eat something. he took a deep sip of the strong tea the house elf had prepared and reached for his plate.

"Good morning, Harry Potter", Dobby squealed excitedly. "Did master Potter sleep well?"

Harry shrugged and took a bite of scrambled eggs. "Not really", he answered after he had swallowed. "Why don't you sit down, Dobby?"

"Harry Potter is too kind to Dobby, sir. Harry Potter wants Dobby to sit down at his table while he eats!"

The house elf sat down on the chair Harry indicated, but he did not once stop his excited hopping. It looked weird to see this creature bouncing up and down on his chair, and just from watching him, Harry felt his headache rise again.

"Is there something wrong, Dobby? You seem quite excited today."

Dobby grinned a grin that was threatening to split his head in two. "Dobby thinks he can help master Harry Potter, if Harry Potter needs me to."

Harry frowned and pushed his plate away, taking another sip of his tea. "What do you mean?"

Dobby gestured towards the low table next to the sofa.

"Harry Potter forgot his parchments in the kitchens yesterday."

Harry looked over and indeed, there were his most recent notes on Necromancy. He didn't remember leaving them in the kitchens yesterday, but with his disastrous Occlumency lesson and his conversation with Remus later the evening, it was not really surprising that he had forgotten about them. But maybe he should clear the parchments away before Remus came into the common room and saw them. If there was anything Harry didn't need right now, then it was another serious conversation about whether or not what he was doing was good for him.

"Thank you, Dobby. I completely forgot about those papers."

Dobby grinned even wider, though Harry had thought that impossible up to that moment.

"When Harry Potter came to the kitchens yesterday, Dobby thought that Harry Potter was very interested in those papers."

Harry nodded. "Yes, they're quite important."

"Dobby thinks he can help master Harry Potter. When Harry Potter left and forgot his notes, Dobby saw something on them and read them."

Inwardly, Harry groaned. It was seemingly becoming habitual for other people to read his private papers, a development which he didn't exactly welcome.

"Dobby, it's kind of you to worry about my problems, but I don't think there is anything you can do about it. I myself don't really have an idea if what I'm doing there will lead to anything."

Dobby wordlessly hopped down from his chair and bounced over towards the table where he had put Harry's papers. He picked them up and carried them back to the breakfast table. With a snip of his fingers, Harry's plate disappeared back into the kitchens and he spread out the parchments in front of the teenager. After a slight bit of shifting through the parchments, he found one and put it on top of the stack.

"This was the first page when Harry Potter left the parchments in the kitchens."

Harry looked at it. It was the page he had been working on in the library before he had called a break to his researches and had gone down into the kitchens. It could very well be possible that it had been on top of the stack of papers when he had gone down into the kitchens, yet he failed to see the significance. He looked up at the house elf and frowned.

"That might be possible, Dobby, but I don't quite see what that's supposed to mean."

Dobby pointed one bony finger at the parchment.

"Dobby knows what this is."

Harry looked at what Dobby pointed at, and he started for a moment. The house elf had his finger pointed on the symbol of the pentagram which Harry had doodled on the parchment while he had been brooding.

"What do you mean, you have seen this before? On a book in the library? Because that's where I got it from."

Dobby shook his head fervently. "Not in the library, no. Dobby never is in the library, Mistress Pince has other elves do that. Dobby is mostly in the kitchens, or cleaning rooms and serving guests, never in the library, no."

"But then where have you seen it? I mean, there are a lot of pentagrams around here, you might have mistaken it with something else entirely."

"No, Dobby is sure that it was this same symbol. The red ring and the two pentagrams, one of them entirely black. Yes, Dobby is sure that it was the same symbol."

Harry's heart began beating faster against his ribcage. It could mean nothing, it could be another dead end, but somehow he had the feeling that whatever Dobby was going to tell him now was important for his researches. It made sense, somehow. The house elf had more access inside the castle that Harry had, it could be possible that he had found something that would be able to help him in his researches. After all, in the library there were only books which the teachers and Madam Pince thought were appropriate for the students, there surely had to be other places in the castle where the information Harry needed could be found.

"Where have you seen it?"

The house elf shrugged and hopped back up on his chair. "Dobby was cleaning. Normally, Dobby doesn't clean in that part of the castle, but this day I was ordered to help with the cleaning there. The cabinet was open, so Dobby thought he had to do cleaning there as well. It was very dusty in there, very dirty. It needed a house elf to do some good cleaning, and Dobby likes to clean at Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore is a great master, he has given Dobby a good job here."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Dobby wasn't really getting to the point, yet he didn't want to be rude and interrupt his tale. So he patiently waited until Dobby would tell him what he had to say.

"Dobby took out the things in this cabinet and cleaned it out. There were books, mostly, and other things, but Dobby didn't take a closer look. House elf are not supposed to look at private things when they are cleaning, but one of the books had this pentagram on it. Dobby knows that it was exactly this symbol."

Harry's breathing sounded harsh and fast in his own ears. "What kind of book? What was its title?"

Dobby shook his head. "No title. Only this symbol. It was an old book, very old, tattered and with loose pages. Dobby nearly caused the pages to fall out, but managed to put them back in. It wasn't a book like these", he pointed at a stack of Harry's school books which was sitting on a chair in the corner.

"Why not?"

"The book was very old. Not a book like these, with many copies. Not printed."

"You mean it was handwritten?", Harry asked, and immediately the house elf nodded.

"Yes, written it was. Not printed. And very, very old. A black leather book, very worn, but the symbol was very clear. Dobby saw it, but then Dobby was reprimanded and shouted at for cleaning out the cabinet, and he was sent back into the kitchens and told never to come up again. Dobby asked the other house elves and they said that the cabinet is always locked normally. Dobby simply didn't know, but still he shouted at Dobby. Shouted very much, he was very angry."

Harry didn't know if he should dare to ask, but the question was out of his mouth before he had the time to reconsider.

"Who shouted at you, Dobby? Whose rooms did you find that book in?"

"Professor Snape's rooms", Dobby said lowly, as if he was frightened that the man could hear that the elf was talking about him if he spoke too loudly. Harry felt his heart do a funny lurch inside of his chest and his stomach turn to ice.

"Professor Snape? You found that book in Professor Snape's office?"

Dobby shook his head. "Not his office. His private rooms, no student ever comes there."

Harry sank back in his chair and mulled this new development over in his head. He could be wrong, it could be something entirely different that Dobby had seen, but what the house elf had told him had sparked Harry's curiosity. He had not yet come across a book about Necromancy that had been so old that it was handwritten and falling apart already, especially none that didn't have a title printed on front but only the pentagram symbol. It could mean nothing, of course, but it was a rather curious fact that Snape owned a book that was somehow connected to Necromancy, and that he was hiding that book away in a locked cupboard.

"Dobby, does Professor Snape have bookshelves in his private rooms?"

The house elf nodded immediately. "Of course. Professor Snape has many, many books in his living room. Two walls with bookshelves, a lot of work for cleaning."

Harry shook his head slowly. This was getting more and more mysterious. If it was merely a 'normal' book, then why had Snape locked it away? He might not want it to fall into anybody's hands, but Harry couldn't imagine that all too many people had access to his private rooms. House elves might come and go for cleaning and serving, but those creatures were so incredibly loyal that none of them would ever touch something if it was expressively forbidden, much less take something on their own volition. Dobby had said that no student ever came to Snape's rooms, so why should the potions master bother with locking away that book?

"Was Dobby able to help master Harry Potter?"

Harry looked up and smiled at Dobby. "You've helped me a lot, Dobby. I need to think this over, but I believe this was very helpful. Thank you very much, Dobby."

Dobby grinned his head-splitting grin again and gave a slight bow. "Dobby is glad that he could help Harry Potter. Harry Potter has helped Dobby so often already, Harry Potter has helped Harry get the best job of his life here at Hogwarts, Dobby is very glad that he could help Harry Potter now."

"I need to go to the library again, see what I can find out about that book you told me about. I'll visit you in the kitchens later."

Dobby nodded and slid off his seat. "Dobby is looking forward to it." And with a low pop, he vanished. Harry leaned back in his chair and fixed his eyes on the parchment in front of him until the pentagram symbol was all he saw. It could be possible that what Dobby had seen was exactly the book he needed, but it was a remote possibility. After all, if Snape owned that book, it meant that he was far closer connected to Necromancy than Harry had initially thought. From what he had gathered during his researches, only Necromancers owned detailed descriptions of necromantic rites, and if that was what Dobby had found in Snape's rooms, then it meant that Snape was one of them. Didn't it? Of course, he could have gotten hold of that book from another source. Harry knew next to nothing about Snape's life before he had come to Hogwarts, he only knew that he had been a Death Eater at one point. Still was, actually, because Harry didn't think that was something one could end by handing in a resignation. But there must have been a point in the past when Snape had really been working for Voldemort, and during that time the book could have come into Snape's possession. It could be possible.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. No matter how Snape had gotten hold of that book, if it was really a book that described a necromantic rite, then Harry needed it. Snape would not help him with his plan, even if he was a Necromancer. The conversation he had had with his professor about that topic had made that one point perfectly clear. So Harry needed to get hold of the book to make sure that it was what he needed, and then he needed to get into the Department of Mysteries to try and use it if he could. He might not be a Necromancer himself, but somehow Harry was sure that things would fall into place if only he managed to find everything he needed to bring Sirius back. He needed Sirius, there simply had to be a way to bring him back. And Harry would find it, no matter what the cost.