AN: Here's a nother one. A bit of explaining in it too, but not too much, I hope.
It's my birthday today! So I'm apparently following the Hobbit habit of giving people gifts on my birthday with this chapter, but still, you could give me one in return by clicking the link on the top of my author page. Pretty please. One survey won't hurt you.
I don' own them!
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A week later, Alduin knew he simply had to find someone else to have a relief from teaching from time to time, otherwise he would go crazy.
To that end, he asked Alexandra for dinner.
He had always planned to do that, naturally, but he would have preferred to wait a little longer, until he was sure Harry was perfect in his manners and conversant in every day-to-day aspect of the wizarding world. However, he was also aware that it was irrational. Alexandra was safe, she was not going to betray his trust. And he needed the help. Plus, it would probably be healthy for the boy to meet someone else.
So, that day at breakfast, he noted: "We will have a visitor today. My friend Miss Burke will come for dinner."
"Oh." Harry hesitated. "Should I just eat in my room then?"
Alduin blinked. "What? No, certainly not. I'm merely informing you that you are expected to be on your best behaviour, and wear one the better evening robes – the emerald green ones."
"Oh. Okay." Harry was silent for a moment, then asked: "Is she nice?"
Alduin tried to be patient and rational. "Harry, I told you she is my friend. What kinds of people do you think I am friends with?" In fact, many people he counted among his friends could be decidedly called not nice, even Alexandra in some ways, but he didn't want to make Harry nervous.
"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly. "I didn't mean it like that."
"It's all right. I think you will like her. You will see in the evening, anyway."
The evening dully arrived – after a particularly painful Math class – and the cousins were able to receive Miss Burke in all their splendour, waiting regally in the evening parlour. Harry was very visibly shy, and Alduin, frustrated, contemplated how long was it going to take until he would be able to introduce him to some of the purebloods which could potentially mean him harm.
"Hello, Mr. Potter," Alexandra said in her softest voice, "I am very pleased to meet you. Tell me, how do you like living in Travers Manor so far?"
"It's great!" Harry said, immediately more lively. "My room is big and very comfortable, and the elves make wonderful food, and I enjoy many of the lessons my cousin gives me, too."
"That I am very glad to hear. I believe you like history a lot?"
"Oh yes, that's my favourite. You are a historian, aren't you?"
"Indeed I am."
They passed into the dining room, and as they sat to dinner, Harry said, shy once more: "My cousin said you would be able to tell me more about the night my parents died."
Alduin sighted. Evidently Harry needed a lesson in conversation appropriate for the dinner table. Alexandra smiled and said: "Perhaps later. It is a very sad topic, after all, and we don't want to enjoy our dinner first, don't we? Meanwhile, tell me how has your time at Travers Manor been."
As Harry launched into enthusiastic description, Alduin couldn't help but admire Alexandra. She was apparently listening attentively, even though she has heard all of this from his already, even though from a different perspective. He supposed she had some training – her great-great-grandmother was still alive, and retelling stories she has told countless time was her favourite pastime. Dishonouring her by not listening attentively was out of the question, obviously – she might not be the mistress of the House anymore, not since her husband passed away three years ago, but she was still the mother of the current one, a prestigious enough role, especially as Mr. Burke appeared to be entirely in her pocket. Everybody was treating the old lady with all the courtesy they could find in themselves.
Harry went on to describe his classes, which according to him were "fascinating" and "fun" (a compliment, Alduin supposed – if only he wasn't spending the entirety of them by wanting to rip his hair out) and much better than the ones in Muggle school. Alduin made another mental note, this time to make Harry tone down mentioning his Muggle life so much. No need to remind everyone of his roots.
They managed to pass dinner in this way, and once they relocated to the drawing room, Alexandra smiled at Harry and said: "Well, now I am ready to answer your questions."
Harry bit his lip, and Alduin made another mental note. "I guess...I mean, the first question I wanted to ask was why did Riddle go to kill my parents in the first place? I mean, my cousin told me they made a stand, but what does that mean?"
Alexandra sighed. "Have you ever heard of Albus Dumbledore?"
Harry frowned. "I think he was in that book about history my cousin gave me...he defeated some bad guy, didn't he?"
"Yes. He is the headmaster of Hogwarts, and generally considered the most powerful wizard alive. He defeated Grindewald some fifty years ago – that was another evil wizard, though not as bad as Riddle. Well, when Riddle started to spread his influence, Dumbledore founded this organization. It was called the Order of the Phoenix – because Dumbledore has a pet phoenix – and it united people who wanted to fight Riddle under Dumbledore's leadership. Both of your parents joined, once they were of age, and took part in some very significant actions against Riddle and his supporters. And now we enter the realm of speculation. Dumbledore is very tight lipped about the reasons for the attack on your parents – as he is about everything – and ex-Death Eaters are not exactly flaunting their knowledge today. However, it seems that what set the events in motion was a prophecy. No one – again, apart from Dumbledore – knows what it said, but Riddle found out about it and shortly afterwards your parents stopped appearing in public and taking part in missions and went into hiding. They spent almost two years like that, going deeper and deeper undercover, better and better protected, as attempts to attack them grew more frequent. In the end, they decided on the ultimate way to protect themselves – the Fidelius Charm." Alexandra paused, and looked at Alduin. "Will you do the honours?"
"Gladly. Fidelius, Harry, is a charm that locks the secret of a location in the mind of a person, the Secret Keeper. Unless that person tells you where the place is, you cannot find it. You will not see it even if you stand right in front of it. The person is the only weakness of the place. It has to be someone who doesn't regard it as their home, if it is to be really strong, so that complicates the use of that spell. In fact, it weakens the spell when the Secret Keeper is on the premises. As I am sure you already guessed, they choose Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper. Usually the fear is that the person will be caught and tortured and so forced to reveal the information – but there was no torture necessary to make Black speak..."
Alduin fell silent as they waited for Harry to process this information. "So all of this happened because of a prophecy?" He asked at length.
"No one really knows for sure, but it is the most plausible theory," Alexandra replied. "What is known as a historical fact is that at one point something happened that made your parents go into hiding, hiding that gradually deepened. It is reasonably safe to deduce, given what followed, that it was because something happened to make Riddle target them specifically. As to what that something what, as I've said, it's speculation. But there are rumours from various sources about a woman whose ancestor was a famous Seer – and these things usually run in families – meeting with Dumbledore in a clandestine pub, and a Death Eater was caught listening at the door. Immediately afterwards, your parents went into hiding, and the Seer in question was employed at Hogwarts, even though Dumbledore showed every inclination to do away with Divination classes until then. The conclusion most historians come to is that she made a prophecy, heard by the Death Eater, about your parents – or, possibly, about you. Which brings us to the second question about that night – how come you survived, and Riddle was destroyed?"
Harry nodded.
"I know Alduin told you I should try to answer this, as a historian, but it really encroaches on his fields of expertise as well. But I admit that he hadn't had as much time to study it, what with being in a coma and all. But, once again, no one knows for sure. Dumbledore proposes one theory, and given that he no doubt has facts no one else has access to, most people are inclined to believe him. What he says is that your mother willingly gave her life to protect you, which formed a strong kind of magical protection, one that Riddle couldn't get through, because if there was one branch of magic he never could do anything about, it was love magic."
Harry was frowning. "Do you think this is what happened?"
Alexandra shook her head. "At the very least, Dumbledore is oversimplyfying. Can you see how I know that for sure?"
Harry tried to figure it out, but was unsuccessful, and Alexandra explained: "Your mother is not the only woman to offer her life for the life of her child in history of mankind, and yet you are the only one to survive the killing curse. Yes, there were some supporting circumstances here – you were completely defenseless and innocent (the older the child, the worse it would have worked), and it was the killing curse – likely it wouldn't work at all against a spell that was less Dark. But still, there are many more cases like this through history – even many more just during Riddle's reign of terror – and no repetitions. So there must have been something more. Your mother either must have known some particular spell or ritual to strengthen this, or something completely different happened. Without knowing more about it, we can only speculate."
"Why doesn't Dumbledore tell anyone more?" Harry demanded.
Alexandra seemed to somehow shrug without moving her shoulders. "That's just the way he is. He has some good reasons for it, of course, a little knowledge in the wrong hands can be very dangerous, but he takes it to the absolute extreme."
"Didn't my parents mind?"
It was Alduin who answered this time. "James, your father, never asked too many questions, to be honest. He trusted Dumbledore implicitly and felt no need to doubt his leadership. It was like this with most people who joined the Order."
"You didn't?" Harry continued probing.
"No. I was no fan of Riddle, but I dislike Dumbledore's way of directing everyone and pretending that it was either him or the Dark side. You need to understand, Harry, that your father's starting position was very different from mine. His great-grandfather was an old friend of Dumbledore's from school, and his grandparents and parents were part of the basis of Dumbledore's support group, together with the Weasleys and the Longbottoms."
Alexandra stepped in again here. "This group functioned in a simple way – they recognized Dumbledore's brilliance and provided financial means to develop it. The original generation, those who were Dumbledore's age and older, were treating him more like condescending patrons. Their children, however, started to admire him greatly, he became the brilliant man who was always visiting and fairly radiating power, so much cooler than their parents, you understand. And then the next generation – the one of your grandparents...well, they grew up knowing Dumbledore was the hero who defeated Grindewald, which was the defining event of their childhood. They admired him greatly, and handed this admiration down to their children, who joined Dumbledore's Order without hesitation, because they have always been told to follow the man."
"I, however," Alduin continued, "was never told that. My family belonged to a different clique, one that respected Dumbledore for his academic achievements but had strong reservations about some of the other things he did. The motto of that group was that if only Dumbledore had been a Ravenclaw instead of a Gryffindor, everything would have been much better. His faults were readily recognized at out house, and so I saw them and was not prompt to join his club when I saw the way it was run. That is only partly Dumbledore's fault – when you have an organization full of your admirers, your options are limited. He certainly never seemed to mind, though, but that is just my opinion."
Harry was frowning, and Alduin felt sorry that they had to shatter his simple idea of the world world with such complicated notions so soon. But he saw no way to tell the story simply. "I think you should go to bed now," he said. "You learned a lot new today, and you need time to think about it, and sleep on it too."
Harry just nodded and left with a polite "good night." Alduin wondered what he was going to think about all of this.
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Harry was dismayed. When he read about Dumbledore in that history book, it sounded like the perfect superhero – defeating the villain and all. In the stories he knew, no one ever had to wonder if the hero told everyone all he could and if maybe less people would have died if he just discussed the situation with someone, instead of insisting on doing everything alone. Harry didn't like thinking about this, and decided that he wouldn't, not until he met Dumbledore in person. And once he did, he would ask about the details of how he survived, because Miss Burke was right, his mum couldn't have been the only mum to ever die for her child, so how come he survived? He bet his mother had been a really powerful witch and did something really clever, not quickly enough to save herself, but at least something to save him. He wished he knew what it was.
And besides, how did Dumbledore know it was her who did it? He wasn't there, was he? Maybe both of his parents did something together. He must remember to ask Miss Burke about it. Dumbledore sounded rather fishy to him, but he decided that other than that, what he knew now only meant that his mum and dad were the superheroes in the story. That made it a little easier to deal with the sadness he felt when he mused about the whole thing.
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It took another week and two more visits from Alexandra before Alduin felt he could hand over some of Harry's classes to her without the boy feeling like he was being dumped on a stranger. It also gave Alexandra plenty of time to observe the young boy, causing her to say to Alduin in a private moment: "I think he is ready. He knows how to behave himself, and he is conversant enough in our world to know what people are talking about during a casual meeting."
Alduin sighed. He suspected as much, but had been trying to avoid it. Because once Harry was ready to meet other people, there was no avoiding the precedence of blood: he would have to meet Neville Longbottom, and that meant Alduin would have to visit his grandmother.
And so, one morning that Harry's education was in Alexandra's hands, Alduin took a deep breath and Flooed to Longbottom Hall.
Looking around the ghastly receiving room, he bitterly regretted his cousin wasn't closely related to the Malfoys instead.
The butler elf appeared almost immediately. "You name, sir?" He asked in a trembling voice.
"Mr. Travers."
"Please wait here for a little while, sir," the unnerved creature asked and disappeared again, only to be back almost before Alduin managed to sit down, with a: "The mistress will see you now, follow me, please, sir."
Alduin walked through the door on his right to a morning parlour, where Augusta Longbottom was sitting in all her splendour.
"Alduin Travers," she said in that unpleasant voice of hers. "Well, well, well, I wondered when you would get up from that hospital bed. It was a shame, for a man your age, and the heir to your house, nonetheless, to be just lying there."
"Mrs. Longbottom," Alduin said simply.
"Well sit down, don't stand about in such a silly manner! And where is Harry Potter? You should have brought him with you, he and Neville are second cousins, after all, and I know very well you have taken the boy under your wing. Very clever of you, that. No use contesting it, I expect, but I would like to keep a close eye on the way you raise the boy nonetheless. No making a Ravenclaw stuffy old arse out of him!"
"Harry's mornings are devoted to education, madam," Alduin replied in a carefully controlled voice, "but I do come with an invitation for tea some day this week, if it would be convenient, so that Harry could meet his cousin."
She pursed her lips. "Well, let me see...yes, we will come on Thursday. Though I don't see how taking him away from books for one morning would have hurt! As I expected, you are trying to turn him into a know-it-all."
Alduin managed to hold in the sigh, but it was a near thing. Mrs. Longbottom had married above herself, and was in fact to this day given as an example to young members of Noble and Most Ancient Houses of why one should never ever marry out of one's class. Augusta was a pureblood, of course, but not from a very significant family, and unfortunately, her not being raised among the crème de la crème showed in everything, beginning with her taste – or lack thereof – and ending with her manners. Or lack thereof.
"We will expect you on Thursday, then, madam. And how are you?"
"Well enough, there's plenty of strength left in these old bones." Given that she was just past middle-age by wizarding standards, that wasn't exactly surprising, though maybe somewhat regrettable. "And you, have you caught up with the changes they made in the last nine years?"
"I have to admit that I find the reality of Cornelius Fudge as a minister of magic somewhat hard to adjust to." Alduin said frankly.
"Ha! Don't we all. Except for the Malfoys and their friends who put him there, I expect." Of course she would get a dad at Lucius in whenever she could.
"If it indeed was Lucius who put the minister there, as you say, then I would be willing to bet he is regretting it now," Alduin replied diplomatically. "He does have a marked sense of style and pride, after all, and Fudge is not exactly improving our international image."
"Should have thought about that before arranging it, shouldn't he."
"Mrs. Longbottom, I am aware that you would have preferred Dumbledore on that post, but he did reject the offer." As well as the countless before it. Say what you want about the man, but he certainly wasn't stupid. Alduin almost mentioned the other man though of as a possible candidate, before realizing that saying the name of Crouch in front of Mrs. Longbottom of all people wouldn't have been precisely tactful. Nevertheless, it hung awkwardly in the air, unvoiced, and Alduin hurried to make his excuses.