Chapter 22 : Word to the wise
At that moment the large ginger cat pushed past Harry's legs making him jolt the candlestick in his hand. The snuffer jangled, sounding like a gong in the silent and echoey staircase.
"Potter, come on down here. There's no point in you skulking on the stairs." Moody's magical eye could see through the wall so he knew there was no point in trying to pretend not to have heard their dialogue.
"Who is 'she'?" Harry asked bluntly. Moody smiled at his forthright question; he seemed to appreciate the attack-is-the-best-defence approach Harry had adopted.
"I wondered when you'd start asking the questions. Fed up being interrogated and want to start getting some answers instead eh?" asked Moody.
Harry stood leaning against the wall, he was acutely aware of the cold seeping into his almost bare feet. Eleanor noticed him place one foot atop the other and the fact that he wore no shoes upon his feet.
"Let's go back upstairs, it's freezing down here and you've no shoes on. If you get a chill Madame Pomfrey will be after my blood! Not to mention what Molly'd do."
Harry led the way back up the stone stairway and he was sure he heard an incantation being spoken by Eleanor after he'd left the cellar.
Moody had livened up the fire that cast a warm glow over the room once more. "Use Eleanor's chair Potter and warm your feet up. Can't stand having cold feet myself. Comes from spending too much time in bloody mud-filled trenches in my youth. I'll tell you about it some day but I feel you'd rather talk about other matters eh?"
Harry say down in the warm enveloping chair and put his feet up on the footstool.
"Do the job properly Harry! Get those socks off and get some air to your skin" insisted Eleanor
"No. They're fine really," protested Harry but Eleanor was having none of it. With a quick tug both socks were removed and Harry's feet were open to view.
"Good God boy! Why haven't they been attended to? How come the hospital didn't treat them or Poppy?" Moody was clearly outraged.
"Didn't want to make a fuss. They're alright honestly!" Harry was acutely embarrassed and didn't really understand why.
"Potter, I said I wasn't going to talk about bloody mud-filled trenches, well seeing them…" Moody pointed to Harry's bare and obviously infected feet "…has changed my mind. Do you realise what you've been doing? No? Didn't think so!" exclaimed Moody as he settled himself in the chair opposite Harry.
Harry's feet were scarred from the numerous cuts they'd received during the escape from Malfoy Manor but the wounds were edged with yellow and green pus-filled swellings. Two of the toes on his right foot were complete black and the nail of his big-toe was almost completely off.
"You'll be damned lucky if you don't end up losing toes judging by their colour and condition and I know what I'm talking about boy. How do you think I ended up with this?" Moody struck his wooden leg with the poker from the fire. The dull thud of metal on wood sent an odd chill through Harry who was being remarkably quiet the whole time.
"There's such a thing as sub-conscious self-delusion, Potter. Long winded name for what is in essence fooling yourself or turning a blind-eye to the truth." Moody could see that Harry's self-denial was kicking-in even as he spoke.
"Tell me what you know of pain, Potter?"
"What?" Harry was stumped by this odd question.
"PAIN! Pain, Potter! What is it? What purpose does it serve? Why do we experience it?"
"I don't know, sir." Harry felt like he was back in his first-ever potions lesson being asked impossible to answer questions.
"Don't you damn well 'Sir' me! I'm not your teacher and this isn't Hogwarts." Moody took a sip of the glass of cognac that had appeared at his elbow. Eleanor had made herself scarce and left the two men alone.
"Pain isn't something nasty to be feared of itself. It is something to be relished and appreciated," continued Moody.
Harry looked understandably confused at this sentiment – he'd never heard anything like it.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm no masochist – don't go in for that kind of thing myself – but what I do say is that without pain we wouldn't live long."
While Moody spoke Harry was staring transfixed at the flames in the hearth. "What would happen, Harry, if you put your hand on those logs?" Moody's use of his first-name made Harry raise his gaze from the embers for the first time in minutes.
"First the outer layer of skin starts to heat up, you feel pain and you remove your hand. Damage is minimalised, your hand heals, and you survive. Now imagine if you were not able to feel pain. Again the outer layer heats up, this time the flames keep going and eventually your whole body would be destroyed."
Harry looked up as Moody continued. "Now do you see? Pain is there to let us know we are hurt and need to heal. Unfortunately wizards also have the ability to self-delude, that is they can convince themselves that they feel no pain even when they do. Powerful wizards – and make no mistake you are indeed powerful Harry – can go one step better and can cast a sub-conscious 'ego-protectum' spell on themselves. To the normal naked eye there are no physical wounds, therefore there is no pain and they go on with their lives. But the damage is real! Nerve endings are torn, flesh can be ripped apart but appear whole. One big drawback, some types of bacteria are immune to magic. An open wound to a micro-organism is a feast day and infection will set in." Moody sat back and had another sip of his drink and let his words sink into Harry's brain.
"Is that what happened to you?" asked Harry. He was beginning to understand.
"Yup! During Voldemort's first reign of terror, before your first defeat –" Harry gave a small snort of derision but Moody ignored it. "I was with the Longbottoms on the trail of Evan Rosier. Got hit by a stray curse and it tore a chunk out of my nose. Frank and Alice wanted to rush me to St.Mungo's when the saw the bloody mess I was in but I refused. Cast a few field healing charms and made them think all was well. Ten days it took us to bring him down. Didn't mean for him to die but a Reductor curse hit the side of a house and a lump of masonry crushed his skull like an egg."
At the vivid picture Moody had painted Harry visibly winced.
"When they finally got me to a Healer, the charm was removed – wasn't even aware I'd cast it, but the damage was done. I was lucky the Healer's were able to heal me as well as they did."
"Is that when you lost your eye too?" asked Harry.
"No that was something else altogether." It was obvious Moody wasn't going to elaborate as he changed tack – slightly. "Pain is useful. Don't ever ignore it. Listen to the message it sends and take heed."
Harry nodded, still not certain exactly what Moody was getting at.
"Sirius was a good man who had been sorely wronged. Right now you are feeling the pain of his loss, it's just as real as the pain from your feet or your ribs. There are no Madame Pomfrey' s that can apply a salve or dispense a potion to take away the pain felt at the loss of a loved-one. The only things that help is to talk, share, remember, scream – yes and get angry too!"
Harry's eyes had filled with tears as Moody talked about Sirius. He still felt the pain acutely and was confused by his anger at Sirius even through his own feelings of guilt and his belief that it was all his, Harry's fault.
"Use that anger, let it out, if you don't then like a fire it will consume you."
Harry finally began to see what made this man so admired by Mr. Weasley. Beneath the gruff and scarred exterior lay a man of great understanding and compassion.
"And now, if you don't get up to bed soon Molly Weasley will be consuming me! I swear that woman is part sabre-tooth tiger!" exclaimed Moody as he finished his cognac. "She and Dumbledore will be here at 9.30 as they have some things that need to be discussed. I'll get Poppy Pomfrey to take a look at those feet tomorrow too. Sleep well Potter."
With that Harry returned to his bed. As Harry lay his head down he tried as hard as he had ever done to clear his mind as Snape had frequently told him to do. It was extremely hard to clear so many jumbled thoughts.
After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, Harry decided he should try another tactic.
He got out of bed and started to pace up and down but found it was too painful. Now he had consciously removed his self-deluding charm on his feet, the reality of their condition had kicked-in in full measure.
The next tactic required Harry to get into a nice cool bed.
The Dursleys had never given Harry much in the way of bedding in his cupboard under the stairs and, truth be told, it tended to be too warm rather than too cool. At Hogwarts the dormitories tended to be rather draughty. The bed curtains and pre-warmed bedding meant a cosy night's sleep but Harry found he often slept on top of – rather than in – the bed. Harry also had to admit that his nocturnal thoughts of Ginny also served to "raise his temperature" in bed!
The bed refreshed, Harry climbed in and thought some more about Ginny. He supposed good thoughts and feelings were at least preferable to jumbled and chaotic ones.
Harry's thoughts of Ginny brought a calmness and tranquillity that he sorely needed and he drifted off to sleep a dreamless sleep at last.
The following morning Harry was still eating his breakfast when Dumbledore arrived.
"No need to rush, Harry. We have no timetable to stick to and what I have to tell you should really be told to Remus too."
Dumbledore turned to Eleanor who was sitting at the table sipping her tea and reading that morning's edition of The Daily Prophet. "Any news of when he'll be here?" queried Dumbledore.
"I expected him to be here by now. I haven't received any messages from him and I take it you've no idea then?" answered Eleanor.
"It's just not like him to keep us in the dark! I'm worried Eleanor," said Dumbledore "Voldemort's trying to recruit as many dark creatures to his cause as he can but Remus is strong. The full-moon is not for another eight days so he should be able to withstand anything Voldemort might throw at him while he is in his right mind."
This uncharacteristic candour, especially in front of Harry, somehow was more worrying than his usual evasiveness. Harry was somewhat surprised that he was included in the grown-ups conversation – surprised but pleased.
"What's happened to Remus?" Harry asked tentatively. He had difficulty using his one-time teacher's name but he could not keep calling him Professor Lupin.
"Harry, I will tell you what we know but please do bear in mind that Remus did what he did for a number of reasons and not all of them related to you," said Dumbledore in carefully even tones.
Now Harry was really worried.
Dumbledore continued, "After examining your memories in Eleanor's excellent Penseive, it was decided that recovering your wand was one of a number of tasks that needed to be tackled. From the available information, and not all of it came from you, it was decided that recovery of your wand was of vital importance. I need hardly tell you, Harry, of its connection to Voldemort. What you may not be aware of is that when brother wands are used in tandem then the effect of the spell or charm cast is not doubled, as one would suppose, but magnified ten-fold."
Harry gave a low whistle of appreciation before saying "And there was me worried he might snap it in two!"
"You see therefore the importance of recovery sooner rather than later. If Voldemort were to cast, for example, protective wards around Malfoy Manor, then they would be well nigh impregnable."
"But Professor, wouldn't the same be true if we got hold of Voldemort's wand? We could reinforce the wards at Hogwarts and everyone there would be so much safer." Harry was excited at the prospect of being able to better protect his friends for a change instead of putting them at increased risk.
"I don't know if you've heard, Professor, but …" Harry was almost reluctant to mention it "Fred and George Weasley make incredible fake wands. Do you think it possible that they could make a fake-wand good enough to fool Voldemort?"
To Harry's amazement Dumbledore chuckled.
"Well they do say that great minds think alike, Harry. Indeed not only were they able to duplicate Voldemort's wand quite accurately as to it's general appearance but they were skilful enough to be able to incorporate a few of my – ahem – 'special' modifications."
Harry's jaw dropped open at this announcement. Eleanor looked at him and said simply. "Do close your mouth, Harry dear, you look like a guppy."
Eleanor's comment snapped Harry's concentration back to Dumbledore's words.
"But what happened to Remus. Is he OK? I haven't 'seen' anything about him!" said Harry panic struck.
"Then perhaps this is one of those occasions where no news is good news," said Dumbledore. "Remember though Harry, it is still vital that you practice Occlumency before you sleep, no matter how desperately you want news of Remus. No doubt we will hear from Order members soon. For now though we must move on to other matters."
"Other matters Professor?" Harry looked confused at his Headmaster who seemed to have aged drastically since their return from the Ministry last June.
"Yes Harry, other matters. You no doubt recall that Sirius was your Godfather." Stated Dumbledore all too obviously to Harry's mind. Harry didn't speak but silently nodded his assent.
"Well, when your parents asked him to assume that role they were already aware that Voldemort was after them. Indeed, on no less than three occasions they had come into direct conflict with Voldemort. The last time an attempt was made to seize Hogwarts, your parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, together with Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Prewett twins and other members of the Order fought bravely to dispel the Dark that threatened to consume all we hold dear," continued Dumbledore.
At that moment Eleanor and Alastor entered the room.
"Well as I was saying, Harry, your parents knew they were at extreme risk and although Sirius was at risk too, he agreed to become your Godfather and to take care of you should anything befall them. Dear Alice Longbottom, a room-mate of your mother and her closest friend, tried to dissuade them. After all Sirius was not exactly well known for being a good father figure, quite the reverse in fact, but he was overjoyed when he was asked to assume such a responsible role. Sirius did not hesitate to say yes. You and he were already close at the age of one and everyone – and I count myself among them – was astonished at the change in Sirius. He suddenly seemed to mature and grow into a much stronger man."
Harry just sat in silence cradling the, now empty, mug of tea in his hands, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. This was a side of Sirius and his parents that Harry had heard very little about. He absorbed the information like a dry sponge, drawing each drop deep within himself.
"I have no doubt, Harry, that the trust your parents vested in Sirius with regards your care, enabled him to survive the hell that is Azkaban. His love for you and your parents, and your love for him, gave him the strength to survive and a determination to escape. Without that love Sirius would have died long ago." Dumbledore finally stopped speaking for a moment and watched Harry's reaction avidly.
Harry hated thinking of Sirius' death and his self-loathing and anger built to an incredible level and suddenly the mug in his hands shattered to such an extent that it turned almost to dust. The Headmaster whispered a quiet 'Reparo' charm – but nothing happened, the mug's condition remained the same.
Eleanor's voice to one side said "Don't worry, Harry, it was just an old everyday mug, nothing special."
But as Harry looked back between his fingers, the mug flew back together again; it was as good as new. It reminded Harry of the cabinet in the Department of Mysteries shattering and then flying back together.
"Well, as it seems to be perfectly usable again, why don't I refill it? Albus, how about you?" Enquired Eleanor.
"Thank you Eleanor, I think I too would enjoy a nice cup of tea but let me." As he had done once before in Hagrid's hut, Dumbledore waved his wand and a tray laden with teapot, milk, sugar, cups etc., appeared and floated down to land gently on the kitchen table.
Eleanor leaned conspiratorially to Harry and in a stage whisper said, "always was one of Albus' favourite party tricks that one!" with a broad grin on her face. Harry felt the tension seep out of him as Eleanor added "Why don't we take this through to the parlour, it's much more comfortable than here?"
The three stood up, Dumbledore levitated the tray with a wave of his wand and followed Harry and Eleanor from the room.
Unseen to Harry, Moody encased the repaired mug in a glass jar and was removing it from the kitchen as carefully as an unexploded bomb!
-o-O-o-
It was many hours later and Harry felt as though a bomb really had dropped.
He was having a job trying to get his thoughts and feelings around the news he had been given. In the end Dumbledore asked Harry if he wanted anything as he looked so pale and drawn.
Harry blurted out only one word.
"Hermione!"
Dumbledore looked as puzzled as Harry at first then Eleanor exclaimed clapping her hands "an absolutely splendid suggestion. Albus, no doubt arrangements could be made for her to come here?"
"Yes, yes! An excellent idea." Agreed Dumbledore.
"Harry, do you know Hermione's 'phone number?" asked Eleanor, the excitement evident in her voice.
"'Phone?" Harry looked puzzled.
"Good Lord, boy, have you not noticed that this house electricity and a telephone?" Eleanor said as though she were stating the obvious, which she was.
"Oh! Of course, I hadn't …" Harry's concentration had vanished and he just couldn't think.
"Hermione's number? Do you know her number?" Eleanor was getting increasingly frustrated.
"Er. No, sorry! I gave her mine once but I don't remember if she ever gave me hers." Said Harry eventually.
"Not to worry. I'll ring Jenny. She'll be able to ring the Grangers. Dentist's you said they were if I recall."
Harry nodded once more as Eleanor left the room.
"I can't recall seeing Eleanor so keen to meet someone as she is to meet Hermione Granger." This comment came from Alastor Moody who had just re-entered the room. "Do you know Harry, we used to call her a know-it-all when we were at Hogwarts. Used to drive the teachers mad. I swear she could have passed her NEWTS in third year if she'd been given the chance!"
"Were you two at school together then?" asked Harry tiredly. His eyelids were drooping; he was barely awake.
"They certainly were. Alastor, Eleanor, Harwin Prewett – Molly Weasley's father, and Jemima Ferguson, your paternal grandmother, were all at school together. You could say" said Dumbledore with a distinct twinkle in his eyes, "that they were the First Edition of the Marauders."
Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. He'd heard very little about his wizarding family and was understandably eager to hear more. Unfortunately he was also still recovering physically and despite his attempt to stifle it, a betraying yawn escaped his lips.
"Perhaps, though Harry, tales of their exploits should be saved for another day?" Harry did not fain ignorance of the politely worded dismissal from Dumbledore and, after a brief goodnight to all, he made his way to bed.
Madame Pomfrey had insisted Harry take an infusion of sleep-inducing herbs each night. Although not as effective as Dreamless Sleep Potion, the herbal infusion was not addictive and was proving very effective. It tasted so foul, in Harry's opinion, he thought he actually preferred Polyjuice Potion and that was saying something!
Harry took off his glasses and placed them next to the now-empty herbal teacup, put on his pyjamas and climbed into bed. He still could not grasp properly all that he had been told that day and so he just let his thoughts go where they would. Hermione was good at puzzles, he would let her sift through all the facts he had been given and tell him what he needed to know.
Harry's last thoughts were of Ron.
Ginny's words about her brother worried Harry, was he being selfish in needing Hermione when Ron obviously needed her too?
I wonder if he's got up the courage to kiss Hermione yet? Harry mused as Madame Pomfrey's tea carried him off to sleep.
A/N: Thanks once again for your much appreciated reviews.
CT Malone: Sorry last week's chapter was a little short, I have to agree. This weeks should be somewhere in the region of five pages, is that better? As for the 'family' thing... read on!
Comet Moon: Glad I got you guessing. The answers are all there, honest!
Dianne: Author faints in true appreciation! Thanks so much. Have e-mailed you.
Quillian: Thanks for adding me to your C2. Checked out your choices and you've got some excellent fics in there. Readers go check out the C2 community Exemplary Harry Potter Fanfiction