Chapter Title: Chapter 11: Fidelius
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: HBP Spoiler
Summary: Summary: Harry and Emily talk things over, and manage to shed some light on the mystery. Harry discovers who took the book, but more importantly why it was taken.
"Your mother?" Harry said, taken aback. "Don't you mean your grandmother?"
"No!" she wailed, crying openly now. Harry could stand it no longer and pulled her into his embrace. She accepted his gesture willingly and buried her face in his shoulder as he rocked her gently. After a minute, Harry came to the realization that Emily's grief was forcing her instinctually to hold on as long as possible. She was just going to stand there, leaning into him, until he broke away. Slowly he lowered his shoulder and, simultaneously, grasped her arms.
"Miss Vance," he began softly, "what is it that's scaring you? Does this have something to do with the…" The pause was deafening as Harry's mind churned. Emily looked up into his eyes, which snapped him back into reality, "…the book!" Emily nodded and slowly returned to her seat as Harry continued to stare off into space, thinking.
He was remembering a dream he had been having during the precious few minutes of sleep he had gotten between trips to Gryffindor Tower. In his haste to reach the tower, he had completely forgotten the dream until now.
He had returned to the hospital corridor he and Ginny visited two days before. He was pacing nervously just as he had before, gazing at the portraits on the wall, but something was different this time. The same cushioned chairs that had been empty before now held Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley, all looking thoroughly anxious. Harry walked nervously over to the doorway, willing it to open, to relieve the suspense. He gazed about fretfully, and then he saw it, the old portrait on the opposite wall. The scene was a darkened library. A few indistinguishable figures sat back in the dim corners of the room, minding their own business. The suspicious looking woman in the green shawl appeared again. She looked distantly familiar. Harry watched as she lifted a tattered book from her bag and stuffed it, randomly, into a space on a bookshelf. She tapped it with her wand and looked nervously over at Harry. Her gaze never left his eyes, and Harry realized that she wasn't just looking off in that direction, she was looking right at him. She pointed at the book on the shelf, which Harry saw was quickly surrounded and pushed out of sight between the other books.
Harry played over the dream in his mind several times before speaking. "Miss Vance, did your mother give you that book?" he said slowly.
"Not… not exactly," Emily responded evasively.
"How do you mean?"
"Well, based on what they told me about the book, I think I've figured out that she was the one who took it from the ministry, but I don't know why."
"Go on," Harry encouraged. He got the distinct feeling that she had been working this out for the better part of the last week. He wanted to push her, to get as much information as possible yes, but also because he knew that the longer she talked, the better she'd feel.
"I was seven when she died, so it must have been at least seven years ago. Did you ever meet her? I know you worked at the ministry?" Emily continued, dabbing her eyes again.
"I was still in school when she died, but I did meet her once. She was working for the Order of the Phoenix. How did you get the book?" Harry steered the conversation away from the volatile subject of her deceased parents. "You didn't just find it somewhere did you?" He said severely as he peered over his glasses at her.
"Actually, I kind of did. I'm sorry I lied to Professor McGonagall, but I was afraid of what they might say about my mum if I told them." There was coldness in her eyes as she finished her sentence. By 'them,' Harry thought she must have been referring to the ministry investigators that interrogated her. He noticed she didn't apologize for lying to them. It became obvious that she was no fan of certain people within the Ministry. Harry could hardly blame her for associating 'them' with her parents' deaths.
"Did she leave it somewhere for you to find?" Harry speculated.
"Well, I found it in my trunk when I got to Hogwarts at the start of term this year. I think my grandmother put it in there, assuming it was mine. She's even more forgetful than usual lately. She'll spend hours cleaning and reorganizing the bookshelves at home, and she hates it when I put one back out of order. I guess she found this one and, when she didn't recognize it, she decided it was one of my school books I had put there by mistake."
"I see. Do you have any idea how it got there?" Harry was thinking again of the portrait at St. Mungo's and made a mental note to check it again.
"No, we lived in London, but Grandmother lives in Dartford. Mum must have put it there. They didn't bring very many of my parents' books over after I moved in, and those all went in my room."
"What can you tell me about the book?" Harry was fishing now, but he wanted her to tell him as much as she knew or suspected.
"It was very odd. I couldn't understand a word of it. It was in English, but I still couldn't understand it. It was like… Do you ever read something that's so foreign and technical that you just can't understand a single word of it no matter how hard you try?" Harry nodded, smiling as he thought of what lengths Hermione would have gone to trying to read this 'unreadable' book. "It was just like that, but stronger and more frustrating than I've ever felt it before. I couldn't even figure out what the book was about. I got this strange feeling like I wasn't supposed to understand it." Emily paused for another sip of chocolate and bit hungrily into a cookie.
"Why did you take it down to Hogsmeade?" Harry said, suddenly realizing that he too had a warm mug in front of him. Finally he relaxed into his own first sip.
"I really wanted to look through the village, since I didn't get to last year, but I also really needed to work on that essay, so I took it with me, figuring I could find a nice place to sit and study."
"I can understand that, but I meant why did you take the book if you couldn't even understand it?"
"Oh, right. Well, I got a few books on Time-Turners and temporal phenomenon from Madam Pince, and one of them said something about a secret, unnamed book. It sounded an awful lot like the one I had, so I took it along figuring I'd give it one last look." Emily paused for another sip. "This time when I opened it, it turned right to a specific page labeled Time-Turners, and all of a sudden I could understand what it said."
"Wow," Harry said in a low voice, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "You really were determined weren't you?"
"I'm sorry Professor?"
"You've managed to fool a pretty powerful charm there young lady. You'd do well in the Department of Mysteries."
"What kind of charm?" she asked, refusing to be distracted by Harry's flattery. Harry knew the look she gave him all too well. Her insatiable curiosity was emerging from an unusually prolonged period of disuse. Now that she was feeling better it was back in full force and ready to make up for lost time.
"It's called a Need to Know charm," Harry went on without hesitation. "It's usually placed on memos and briefings where secrecy is important." Harry laughed as she leaned closer in suspense, completely forgetting the reason for the handkerchief she was holding. "The way it works is, you won't be able to read it unless first, you know exactly what information you're looking for; and second, you are directed there by another source or reference. Usually for memos people will send two. The first one will be a normal one that refers to the second one, but won't say why, the expectation being that the recipient already knows why. Do you follow me?"
"Yes," she said eagerly. "So you're saying that I was able to read the book because I 'knew' what I was looking for and where it was."
"Well, you didn't in the intended sense. You aren't supposed to be able to break the charm simply with implicit knowledge or deduction. You need to be told outright. Somehow, you managed to get through it anyway. Tell me, do you still have the book that referenced this one?"
"No, I turned it in. I've forgotten the name, but it's on my essay. I can give it to you early if you want; it's already finished."
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Why am I not surprised? I never would have believed it if someone had told me how much a teacher can learn from his own students." Emily beamed, her cheeks a pale pink color. "Feeling better?" Harry asked, rising.
"Loads!" Emily stood resolutely.
"Good." Harry grabbed both of their empty mugs the plate of sweets, and was reaching for the tablecloth when it was whipped from his grasp by a passing house-elf. Another followed closely behind and took the dishes from him. "Thank you very much. It was wonderful," he said awkwardly.
"We is glad you likes it," said a third elf, the same one Harry had addressed when they came in. "Please come back any time, Professor… Miss…" and with that he bowed deeply to each of them, and scurried off to a set of wood stoves, on which the beginnings of Sunday breakfast was now sizzling happily.
"Professor?" Emily said timidly.
"Yes Miss Vance?"
"I'm glad you're not scared of me."
"What?" Harry said, whipping his head around in surprise.
"The other day, you seemed… I don't know… Maybe I was imagining it, but there was something they said when they questioned me. I'm not sure what they were getting at but, I got the feeling they didn't like that I was spending so much time with you outside of class. When you wouldn't even look at me, I thought maybe they'd talked to you and told you to stay away from me. I was really afraid that you were avoiding me."
"I, uh…" Harry was unsure of how to respond. He had been suppressing that lingering voice of caution throughout the conversation. He wanted to ignore it, but it simply wouldn't leave him alone.
"Anyway," Emily said offhandedly as she led the way to the fruit-bowl door. "I'm glad you're not. And I'm really glad we could talk. I didn't realize how much I needed…" Emily looked pained for a moment then, without warning, she turned and flew into Harry's mid section, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Thank you… for everything."
After an awkward moment, Harry patted her head softly. He closed his eyes and breathed a great sigh of relief. With that escaping air, the last echo's of the painful voice inside him faded into nothing as he said softly, "Any time."
"Harry, where have you been? I've been worried sick. It's almost noon, you've been gone for hours." Ginny's face was livid as she accosted Harry in the entryway to their flat. Harry instantly went from looking extremely happy to cautiously remorseful.
"Ginny, hang on a minute," Harry finally interjected. "Let me explain."
Ginny crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. The look on her face suggested she would be highly surprised if his excuse would be good enough. Harry was again reminded of Mrs. Weasley, with the notable exception that Mrs. Weasley's glares were rarely ever directed at him.
"I've solved it. I know what happened with that book. I'm cleared!" Harry exclaimed hopefully.
"I know you are," Ginny responded matter-of-factly.
"What? Well of course you believe me. I was kind of counting on your support."
"Harry, do you know what I'm holding in my hand?"
Harry looked over suddenly. He hadn't even noticed the sheet of heavy parchment she held in her right hand, which appeared to be a rather official looking letter. "No," he said cautiously, staring ominously at it. Her penetrating glare betrayed none of the note's contents, and his concern grew with each passing second.
"It's a letter from The Office of Internal Ministry Affairs."
Harry gulped. He had had only one previous encounter with the O.I.M.A. and it wasn't a pleasant experience. Somehow, a reformed Death Eater had sneaked his way into Harry's department. The ministry had made some rather generous concessions to these individuals, given the general hatred the wizarding public had for them after the war. One place they were not allowed to work, however, was in the department of Aurors. It turned out that it was Harry's outgoing predecessor as head of the department that had hired the man, but that detail hadn't been discovered in time to keep Harry's face off the front page. It was with a mixture of fear and deepest loathing that he looked down at the letter in Ginny's hand. "What does it say?"
Without a word, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I've already told you. It says, in so many words, that you've been cleared. Something you've apparently wasted all morning trying to prove."
Harry laughed with relief and picked Ginny up, spinning her joyfully around the room. When he finally set her back down, it was with a very long kiss.
"Harry!" Ginny gasped, pulling away. "I do need air you know." She sat down on the couch, fanning herself and handed Harry the letter.
Dear Mr. Potter,
In light of information provided to us by Professor Minerva McGonagall on your behalf, and as a result of subsequent testimony given by Nadine Simmons, we write to inform you that you are no longer considered a person of suspect in the ongoing investigation into the disappearance of a Top-Secret ministry document. Any pending charges have been dropped and all instances of your implication in this matter have been stricken from your record. The department would like to thank you for your cooperation and the information you have provided. Our apologies for any inconvenience we may have caused you.
Sincerely,
The O.I.M.A.
Harry snorted several times as he read, most especially at the word "inconvenience." When he finished he threw the letter into the fire in disgust and plopped down next to Ginny.
"They seem awfully rude, not even signing the letter," Ginny said as she watched the burning letter disappear in a puff of smoke and ashes.
"They're more secretive than the Department of Mysteries," Harry responded flatly. "They don't want people to know who's been investigating them, for fear of retaliation. As far as I've seen it's because they deserve it."
"So what were you doing that kept you out all morning?" Ginny said, turning her gaze back to Harry.
"Well, you know I had to go up to Gryffindor Tower—again. On my way back I ran into Emily. She'd been crying and seemed quite upset about everything that's been going on, so I took her down for a cup of hot chocolate and we talked about it."
"That's very nice Harry. Professor McGonagall did that for me a couple of times." Ginny leaned over and rested her head against Harry's shoulder as he talked.
"It was really no wonder she was upset. She's very smart you know, and she'd figured out exactly how she got that book, even though she didn't know for sure. I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of it myself but…" Harry sighed and pondered silently for a moment. "Anyway, she thinks it must have been her mother Emmeline who took it and hid it at her mother's, Emily's grandmother's, house. Emily didn't want to tell anyone because she was afraid of what they might say about her mother."
"But how did Emily get it?"
"I'm coming to that. She lives with her Grandmother now and, let's just say, the old lady's a little forgetful and not all-together there." Harry tapped his head with his forefinger. "Emily thinks her Grandmother must have found the book and assumed it was hers, so she stuck it in Emily's trunk before she left for Hogwarts."
Harry went on to tell Ginny about how they discovered the secrecy charms that had been placed on the book and how they worked. "So she just kept a tattered old book she couldn't even understand?" Ginny said with amusement. "She sounds exactly like Hermione. But Harry, I saw Emily early this morning down in your office. She stopped by to drop off her paper for you. I left it on your desk. Where else did you go?"
"I was coming to it. While Emily and I were talking, I remembered a dream I had been having about St. Mungo's and that reminded me of a portrait I saw there. Something about it looked familiar."
"So you had to go back and check it out." Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh how well you know me."
"Harry, if this had happened in the middle of the week what would you have done all day until you got time to go down there." Ginny smirked
"I don't want to think about that," Harry said morbidly, making Ginny laugh. "So I found her again."
"Found who?"
"Emmeline Vance. She was the one in the portrait I thought I recognized. Once I realized who it was, I remembered where I'd seen her before. She was with the group from the Order who came and rescued me from the Dursleys' house and took me to Grimmauld Place. Anyway, I went down to St. Mungo's and had a chat with her. Her portrait is actually over in the lobby, but she had followed us down the hall and was trying to get my attention the entire time. It's funny. She was so frustrated with me. I had been standing there, right in front of her and staring at her, and I didn't even notice she was trying to show me something."
"Show you something?"
"She showed me how she hid the book." Harry got up and walked over to the bookshelf, demonstrating how she had placed the book and tapped it with her wand. Slowly, Harry's copy of 10,000 MORE Magical Herbs and Fungi was surrounded by the books on either side of it, and disappeared from sight.
"Harry was that a Fidelius Charm?"
"Well spotted. It took me a moment actually." He looked back at her sheepishly as he resumed his position as her headrest.
"Then something must have broken the charm," Ginny reasoned. "Who was her secret keeper?"
"Her mother. I went to see her after I left St. Mungo's. She's a nice enough lady, very hospitable, but I can see why Emily is so worried about her. She must've offered to refill my teacup about ten times in the five minutes I was there."
"Oh dear. Do you think something went wrong with the charm and that's what's affecting her memory?"
"It is possible. That charm is based on trust primarily and, if it is broken, I suspect it could have consequences. Apparently Wormtail grew even more cowardly after he betrayed my parents," Harry said with bitter satisfaction. "The wretch didn't have the backbone to protect their secret, so I suppose it was poetic justice."
Ginny nodded silently and stroked his hair in a comforting way.
"The thing I don't understand," Harry continued, "is why Emmeline would choose to use the charm like that. You saw how it slid out of sight. That meant the secret she was concealing was the location of it, just like Dumbledore did with Headquarters. That works very well on houses and things that never move, but this was a book. After so many years, it was only a matter of time before it got moved around which, theoretically, could break the charm." Harry got up again, and walked toward to the bookshelf again. "On the same thread as Wormtail's problem, if her breaking the charm was because she had forgotten about it, that forgetfulness could have gotten worse as a consequence, just like Wormtail's cowardice became even more despicable."
"That's awful. Remind me never to be anyone's secret keeper. I don't want anything like that to happen to me or anyone I…" Ginny looked at Harry with worried eyes. "Harry, don't you dare move that book!" Harry had the same thought and flicked his wand at the bookshelf, releasing the charm and revealing the book once again.
"Good catch," Harry breathed with a sigh of relief at the close call.
"I'll say. We don't need your obsession with making a point getting any worse than it already is."
"Huh?"
"That would have been the reason you broke the charm: to prove your point. Based on the pattern, that trait would have gotten worse."
"Right… good thinking." Harry sat down once again, this time a little more tense. They sat for a few silent minutes while Harry fiddled with a lock of Ginny's red hair.
"So when are you going to tell the O.I.M.A. about all of this?" Ginny said to break the silence.
"Not until I finish figuring this out. They're not high on my priority list," Harry responded coldly.
"But what's left to figure out? You know Emmeline took the book, and where and how she hid it, and how it got to Emily."
"Yes, but I don't know why she took it. From all I've heard, Emmeline was an outstanding witch. She was a renowned Healer before she joined the Order and became an Auror. Why would she steal a top-secret book and hide it in a place like that." Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "I suppose we might never know. She was killed just a few weeks later and she probably took the secret to her…" Harry's mouth slowly dropped and his eyes opened wide "Oh my god," Harry whispered to himself, placing one hand over his mouth.
"Harry… What is it?" Ginny sat up with concern. "What's wrong?"
"That's why she was killed. All of those secrets, all of that information… She was hiding the book from Voldemort and they killed her trying to find it, probably Mr. Vance too. Oh no." Harry buried his head in his hands. Ginny patted him softly on the back.
"Harry. You have to tell Emily," she said resolutely.
"Why would I do a thing like that?"
"Because she deserves to know. Right now she's out there wondering the exact same thing you just were: 'Why would my mother steal that book?' She has a right to know the truth, to know that her parents died for a great cause. A cause, I might add, that was a complete success. Voldemort never got that book."
"I'm not sure if I'm the right person to tell her. Maybe I should tell her grandmother and then—"
"No, Harry. Like it or not, Emily has developed a strong relationship with you. You're the closest thing to a father figure she has right now. This whole thing started because of an assignment for your class, and you're the one who figured all of this out. Think about it Harry; who better to tell her than the only other person she knows who's also lost both parents to Voldemort. You know how she feels, and she realizes that. Trust me, you'll know what to say."
"If you say so."
"When have I ever been wrong?" Ginny said, getting up and walking into the kitchen. "Now come have some lunch"
"If you say so," Harry said again under his breath.
"I heard that!"