When Harry woke up the next morning, it was still dark outside. An eerie silence prevailed, which was broken by an occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. Harry lay still on his bed, as a wave of apprehension and excitement swept over him.
He was going to start his search on the Horcruxes today. In a few hours' time, he would be at the Gaunt House. The thought terrified him, yet he was satisfied that he was closer to achieving his goal than he had ever been. Harry sat up on his bed, contemplating, while the sky outside grew steadily brighter. When the sun had fully risen, he dressed up, careful not to make any noise so that Ron would not wake up. He went to down to the kitchen, and saw Amanda reading the i Daily Prophet /i with her spoon stationary in mid air. She was clad in an emerald green robe, and close by Harry saw that her eyes were puffed up.
"Ah, Harry," she greeted, giving him a strained smile, which he half-heartedly returned. She drew out her wand to conjure his breakfast. "I didn't expect you to be up so early."
Harry shifted in his seat, unable to explain the uneasy feeling in his stomach. She waved her wand and a plate of bacon and eggs appeared on a plate in front of him.
"Don't worry, Harry," she said, as though she had read his thoughts. "You'll be fine," she added from behind the newspaper.
Harry did not reply, but continued to chew his breakfast which continually became equivalent to chewing leather. When he was about to give it as a bad job, the kitchen door was thrown open, and Eliza wearing robes of purple, walked in.
"Morning, Mum," she said in a cheery voice. "Hello, Harry," she added, nodding at him. "The Prophet says anything interesting?" she asked, as her mother drew out her wand again and conjured Eliza's breakfast.
"Nope," answered her mother, now waving her wand and three crystal goblets full of pumpkin juice appeared. "Just a couple of deaths," she shrugged. She put down the newspaper, and now Eliza picked it up and disappeared behind it. Hermione and Ron came down to breakfast, as Harry was finishing his breakfast. Amanda hurried forwards to conjure their breakfasts.
"Mum," Eliza frowned, reappearing behind the paper to look around the table. "Where's Uncle Remus?" She looked at the door as though expecting Lupin to barge in any moment.
"He's gone underground," Amanda said darkly. "Work for the Order."
Eliza frowned but did not reply as she gobbled up her breakfast. After Hermione and Ron had finished their breakfasts, Amanda stood up. Harry thought he might be sick, but he, Ron and Hermione followed suit.
"Are you ready, Harry?" asked Amanda, who vanished the plates and goblets with one flick of her wand.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, not exactly sure why he kept saying this.
"How do we go to the Gaunt's house?" Ron asked, looking at Harry.
"Well," said Amanda thoughtfully, glancing at the wall, "Harry and I have already seen the place, so we can Apparate, but as for you two," -she looked at Ron and Hermione- "I guess I'd have to guide you to the place."
Harry looked up at her. "When did you see the place?"
A tiny frown had creased her forehead, and Harry wondered if she would answer. Finally she met his glance and gave him a smile. "Oh, the Gaunt's house isn't exactly a secret place, is it?" she replied evasively, her eyes twinkling.
Though she did not give any sign of not wanting to discuss further, Harry did not press the matter.
"So, shall we get started?" Hermione asked.
"Right," said Amanda, "Hermione, Ron, hold my hand." She extended her right arm to both of them, and they grasped her hand nervously. "Harry, picture the Gaunt house exactly as it was the previous time." Harry suddenly had a vivid image of the house in half-ruins, overgrown with weeds, the floor thick with dust collected over the years. And he stepped forward into that feeling of horrible compression. As quickly as it had begun that feeling ended, and Harry looked around to see Ron and Hermione eye the place nervously. Harry felt uneasy as he saw the chair in which Morfin Gaunt had sat ages ago, and the kitchen in which Merope had broken a pot. The place had not changed much, granted there would have been more dust gathered with the passage of time, but the place was already very dirty that it did not seem to matter much.
"Blimey," Ron cast a disgusted look at the amount of filth that had gathered on the floor. "If there's any place that needs cleaning, it's this one."
"Well," Amanda gave the room a look of deepest loathing. "Why don't we begin?"
"But," Hermione interrupted, with an air of explaining the obvious. "Where do we begin?"
"Dunno," said Ron, as he glanced at the room. "There's nothing much in here, is it?"
Harry, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. "I guess we'll just have to look for any object that could be a Horcrux like something shiny or a thing to which Voldemort would have been attached to. I can identify the cup, and the locket, so if you find anything like that, don't touch it, but show me to it, OK?"
Hermione and Ron nodded and Hermione walked away to investigate in the kitchen while Ron moved towards the end to the hall. Amanda went off to the back of the house. Harry decided to get started, and walked towards a mouldy chest of drawers. He opened the lock with a quick Alohomora charm and as the doors sprang open, Harry coughed, as he inhaled a large amount of dust.
A quick glance inside showed him creaked and rusted mirror. Harry picked it up and peering into it, gasped loudly, for it was not Harry's green eyes that looked back at him, but the red slits of Voldemort. The face he was looking at was the subject of his recent nightmares, the face of Lord Voldemort. Instinctively, Harry raised a hand to his face, and to his amazement it did feel quite normal. He even traced his scar with a finger, and could feel its presence. Relieved, he put back the mirror into the shelf of the chest of drawers. There was nothing more in the drawers, spare a few tattered old robes.
"Harry?"
He turned around to see Ron standing, a look of excitement on his face.
"What is it?" he asked, his face lighting up.
"I think I've found something," he answered, a broad smile playing across his lips.
Harry could not believe his ears. Ron motioned him to follow, and Harry jogged along, his legs feeling slightly like lead.
"Look," He led the way right to the end of the hall, and there on a chest of drawers, stood a cup, majestic in spite of the fact that a thick layer of cobwebs hid its gleam. Harry groaned. It was not Hufflepuff's cup.
"It's not the one?" Ron asked, sounding disappointed.
Harry just shook his head. The happy bubble that had formed inside him was burst, though Harry felt slightly stupid for even believing that he could find one of the Horcruxes so easily. After all, it had taken Dumbledore almost a year to locate one.
"Well, I'm sorry," came Ron's voice.
"Don't be," he answered vaguely. He then walked back to the hall, leaving a thoroughly dejected Ron behind.
After he had finished with the drawers, he moved onto the moth-eaten cupboards. He occasionally tried the i Specialis Revelio /i spell, but there was nothing whatsoever. Soon, having checked every inch of the floor and the wall in the hall, he went off to see the others hoping they had had better luck than him. He entered the kitchen. Hermione was standing next to the sink with her brow furrowed, a look of intense concentration on her face.
"Harry." She looked up to spare him a smile, before turning her back on him.
"Any luck?" He did not even bother to cross his fingers inside the pockets of his jeans.
She just shook her head, looking crestfallen. "I don't think there's anything in here, though," she muttered, and pursed her lips. When Harry continued to look at her, she said, "I highly doubt Voldemort would have left a Horcrux i here, /i I mean, Dumbledore already found the ring here, and it's not possible that he would have left another one here, is it?"
Harry gave her an annoyed look. She could have told this to him before they had even decided on the place, saving them time.
As though she had read his mind, she said, looking at him in the eye, "Harry, look, it just occurred to me right now."
Though this did not make him less angry towards Hermione, he did not reply. He just walked out. Behind him, he heard Hermione heave a sigh.
"Harry?"
Harry turned, and saw Amanda standing on the doorway, a gold-embroidered diary in her hand. She was grinning, which was the last thing that he, Harry, felt like doing.
"Look at this," she said, indicating a note that was grasped in her palms. Harry hurried forwards, and Hermione and Ron soon joined them. Harry began to read, and felt his heart skip a few beats. The note was seemed to be scribbled in a great hurry; the handwriting cramped. i
To the Dark Lord,
The task that was set has been successfully completed. R.A.B exists as a mere memory.
S.T.S /i
"Blimey," gasped Ron. Hermione groaned. However, Amanda continued to grin.
"Not another one," Harry said, looking at Amanda, whose grin quickly faded off to be replaced by a puzzled look.
"What do you mean, another one?" she asked, arching her eyebrows, and chewing on her lips.
Harry slapped his forehead. "Oh, I forgot to tell everybody about the R.A.B. note."
"R.A.B?" A look of panic crossed Amanda's forehead for the briefest second as Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.
"Um, yeah, when -er- Dumbledore"- the name still caused him enough agony to constrict his speech - "and I went to that lake, we didn't find the Horcrux, but there was this note left that was addressed to Voldemort. It went on about how this R.A.B managed to find the real Horcrux..."
"And," added Hermione, "it also said that 'he faces death in the hope that Voldemort might find his match once more.'"
Amanda began to pace the floor. She ran a hand through her hair muttering, "Interesting."
"Any guesses as to who R.A.B is?" she asked, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
"None," said Ron, as they hung their heads. "Hermione even looked through the books in the library to figure out who R.A.B. is, but no luck."
"And what about this S.T.S?" she added.
"No clue," Harry rubbed his chin, as he thought hard.
"Somehow, I think these notes are connected to each other," Hermione face shone as she spoke.
Amanda stopped pacing the floor. "Really? What makes you think that?"
"Well," Hermione leaned forwards, her eyes dancing with glee. "For starters, both the notes were addressed to the 'Dark Lord' and both involve this R.A.B."
"That's keen observation, Hermione," Amanda clapped Hermione on the back.
A Falcon Patronus fluttered into the room and Amanda walked forward to receive it. She had her back to them for a whole minute and when she turned back to face them, Harry saw a silvery four-legged creature shoot out from her wand. Her face was flushed, and she knitted her hands together.
"I've received a message," she said briefly. "You need to go to the Grimmauld Place immediately, Harry."
"Why?"
Amanda cast him an annoyed look. "You need to sign some papers regarding the ownership of the house."
"I thought Sirius had finished everything for Harry," Hermione looked confused.
Amanda answered, "But because Harry has come of age, legally, he's the owner of the house only now."
"Well, let's go then," said Ron, glancing at Amanda.
"We can't go right away." Amanda's eyebrows were furrowed as she did some quick thinking. "There's a Ministry official present, and it looks like they've been sent by Scrimgeour, who would want to find out about where you're staying."
"Wait a minute." Ron said. "How will the Ministry official be able to see Grimmauld Place?"
"I'm not sure, but I think that the Fidelius Charm Dumbledore placed on the house is slightly wearing off."
Ron frowned. "I don't get it."
"Only certain parts of the house are under the Fidelius Charm. I'm not sure how it works, but the Ministry would be able to see a few rooms of the house. But that's not what matters right now. There are Ministry officials at Grimmauld Place and they would want to know about where you had been."
"We could say we were at the Burrow," Hermione offered.
Amanda smiled ruefully. "No use. They've already visited The Burrow."
"What about Hermione's house?" Harry asked.
Amanda smiled again. "They've checked everywhere." Silence fell for a few minutes and suddenly Amanda's face brightened. She smacked herself on the forehead. "How could I have been so stupid? Anyway, here's the plan. We were going on a holiday to Belgium to see Viktor Krum, but since we received the message, we're heading back."
Harry was surprised. "How do you know about Krum?"
Amanda's eyes twinkled. "He's a great Seeker, you know."
"But how did you know we knew him?" Harry asked, unsatisfied.
Amanda grinned. "Later, Harry." As she spoke, she waved her wand and four backpacks appeared. "Take one each, and stick to the story, all of you. On the count of three, then: One, two, three."
Harry shut his eyes and stepped forward to the feeling of compression, and after a few minutes, he Apparated in Grimmauld Place. He still had his eyes closed. He did not want to be in the place that held such memories for him. Memories that he did not want to visit. Wounds that would begin to bleed anytime.
"Hem, hem." Harry's eyes sprang open. The toady face of Umbridge was the first thing he saw. She wearing her fluffy pink cardigan and a sickly-sweet smile that Harry did not like at all. A burly wizard in black robes stood next to her, looking ready to do his bidding. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," she gushed in a high-pitched voice. She sat down in the armchair and crossed her legs, fixing Harry with a piercing stare.
Harry grimaced and avoided her eyes. To avoid looking at her, he looked around at the room. It was the room where the heads of house-elves were showcased. The curtains had been drawn on the windows, so the only light was from the candles, giving the room a gloomy atmosphere.
"Hem, hem," she coughed. "Now, if you can sign these papers, I'll be off."
Eager to get rid of her, he held out his hand for the papers. "Not so soon," she smiled.
"I want to know where you were, Mr. Potter." Her eyes gleamed in triumph as though she had just been appointed the Minister of Magic.
"That's none of your business," he snapped. He could hear Hermione gasp from behind him but he could not care less.
"Harry, no!" Amanda began, giving Umbridge an apologetic grin. "Don't be rude to Madam Umbridge, Harry," she admonished.
Harry looked from Amanda to Umbridge and back again. "Well, in that case, Amanda, maybe i you /i can tell me where they" -she cast an accusing finger in Harry's direction- "went."
"Of course, of course, Madam Umbridge." Amanda grinned at her. "You know the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum?" She nodded eagerly. "Of course you do. Who wouldn't know him? What a great player he is. He flies like-"
"Get on quick," she interrupted.
"Oh yeah, where was I? Yes, Krum invited Miss Granger here" –she indicated to Hermione- "for a holiday. See," -she pointed to the backpacks on the floor- "we were all packed and if I hadn't received the message from the Weasleys, we would have very well been in Belgium by now."
The burly wizard spoke, his voice raspy. "I thought only Miss Granger was going on a holiday?" Umbridge clapped her hands together, her head swaying between the wizard and Amanda.
Amanda gave the wizard a winning smile and Harry thought the wizard's pale cheeks reddened. "Oh, come now, Harold, d'you think Miss Granger would go on a holiday without her friends? I've never seen people as close as those three are." Apparently satisfied, Harold did not speak.
Umbridge stood up and began to pace the floor. "And what were you doing with them?" Umbridge asked suddenly, giving Amanda one of her trademark sickly sweet smiles.
Amanda smiled, matching Umbridge's own. "Oh, Molly asked me to look after Ron and Harry. You know how she is." The wizard called Harold rolled his eyes. "Now, can we proceed to signing the papers?"
"Sure, sure," said Harold, as he bustled forward with a heavy looking book. He waved his wand and ink and quills appeared. "Mr. Potter, when were you born?" He took one of the quills and filled it with ink.
"July 31, 1980." As he spoke, the wizard noted it down. "And your full name is Harry James Potter, correct?" Harry nodded. "Okay, I need your wand."
Though a little hesitant, Harry dug into his pockets for his wand. He took it out and handed it to the wizard. The wizard waved his own wand and the set of brass scales used at the Ministry of Magic appeared. He dropped Harry's wand into it and a note appeared. He attached the note to the parchment. "Phoenix wand core, holly wand, correct?"
Harry nodded and the wizard returned his wand. "Okay, Mr. Potter, I hereby declare you the righteous owner of Grimmauld Place."
Amanda bustled forward. "Would you like some toast before you leave, Madam Umbridge?"
"No, thank you, dear," she gushed. "Well, goodbye, Mr. Potter."
Harry scowled in response. Umbridge and Harold left and Amanda went to see them to the door. He turned to face Ron who was leaning against the wall, and Hermione who stood nearby. He forced himself not to look at the room, he could even remember exactly where Sirius had sat when Mr. Weasley had been attacked, and now that seat was vacant, covered with dust. He was so indulged in his thoughts, that he did not see Amanda return to the room. Ron and Hermione did, however.
"So, can we leave?" Ron asked immediately, looking around the room in disgust.
Amanda shook her head. "I'm afraid you can't."
This response brought Harry back to the world. "Why not?"
"Because i Madam Umbridge /i ," Amanda said, loathing evident on her face, "wants us to stay."
"She can't order me around," Harry shot back.
Amanda smiled, a look of pity in her eyes. "Harry," she said gently, "She obviously wanted us or rather you to stay here because she didn't want us proceeding with whatever we were doing. And she just made up the Law that we need to stay here for the document to be finalised. We might need to stay here for at least ten days."
Harry didn't speak, but only stared at the chair in front of him. He did not know how many more memories of Sirius he had to relive with until he left the house, once and for all.