Chapter Nineteen: December 1984 Pt. I
December 1st, 1984 | Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Over three days, Harry and Dumbledore went over almost a dozen memories, going through almost a decade of Voldemort's life and the objects that might have become a Horcrux. Dumbledore himself had even confessed that he had seen only three, meaning they were watching them for the first time together. It made for a truly awful experience, seeing as it tripled the time it would take to watch them all and acquire all of the information they needed. But Harry prevailed in their search and did his best to not throw himself from the Headmaster's tower in complete boredom and craziness. Yet he wasn't entirely crazy. Because he had a mission among many. He needed to study Voldemort, and he was succeeding. Harry had learned more about Voldemort in three days than he had in his entire life. And it was all very detailing.
They saw several memories spanning throughout Voldemort's life, from his time in the no-maj orphanage to his disappearance before the First Wizarding World War in the '60s. The two watched memories from Morfin Gaunt, Dumbledore's two memories, Hepzibah Smith's house-elf Hokey, and the memory belonging to Horace Slughorn. Receiving that last memory had been the most difficult. They had to track down Horace Slughorn in the depths of some valley in South America and had been forced to steal the memory from his mind. It sufficed to say that Horace Slughorn would not be happy with the pair for quite a while. That didn't matter though. They had gotten the memory, and it had held quite a lot of useful information.
The memories had led to several conclusions. Voldemort had split his soul into seven Horcruxes, or he at least planned to. And more importantly, Harry and Dumbledore had tracked the Horcruxes down to several items. Slytherin's Locket, Hufflepuff's Cup, Tom Riddle's Diary, the Gaunt Ring, the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw, Harry himself (now Will Byers), and perhaps the Sword of Gryffindor. They only had six completely counted for. But perhaps Tom had created only six and had died before creating his intentional sixth and seventh Horcruxes. So with six of seven discovered, they began their work on trying to find them all. The Diary had already been destroyed. The Locket and Ring were probably still in the Gaunt Shack. Hufflepuff's Cup was probably in the Hufflepuff Vault. And the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw was most likely lost somewhere in some forest. After all, it was lost. It wouldn't be in some vault somewhere.
Harry left Dumbledore's office that night and went to bed for the first time in three nights. When he woke up the morning of December 1st, Harry went onward to do his morning routine. He went out for his morning job, got his breakfast from the kitchens, and returned to his hiding spot in the library to continue his research. Only someone was waiting for him. "Hi," She said. Harry stilled, his gaze passing right through the display on his workstation. He recognized her voice immediately. Harry remembered it vividly. As if it were his own voice inside his head. He had talked to her once before on his terms. But he wasn't ready to talk to her unprepared. He wasn't ready. "Hermione," Harry breathed.
"Oh...yes. I'm Hermione. You...remember me?" Hermione asked.
"Of course," Harry replied. He wanted to run. To hide somewhere else. He wasn't ready for this yet. "Almost two weeks ago. I asked to sit next to you in the public section. The restricted section was closed off and every other table was filled. And here you are...in the restricted section. Do you have a pass?" Hermione seemed dumbstruck by his question as if he had accused her of something. Well...he technically had. She thought he assumed she broke into the restricted section. But Harry knew she wouldn't do something like that. At least his Hermione wouldn't. She would always have a pass. Most likely from Professor McGonagall. Or Professor Flitwick in this case, seeing as Hermione was a Ravenclaw in this universe.
"Of course! I have one right here signed by Professor Flitwick," Hermione revealed a small note from Professor Flitwick himself. Harry smiled, not caring to examine it. He knew it was genuine.
"Well? Care to take a seat?" Harry motioned to the table around him, in which there were four open seats. One next to him to the left, two across, and one at the end of the table. The window sat at his right. Hermione gave him an uncomfortable nod and took the seat directly across from him besides the window. They sat in silence for a long time, with Harry trying his best to not react badly. He was stronger than this. Harry Potter wouldn't fall to some kind of awkward silence between him and his best friend. NO! This isn't your best friend. This is a stranger. She isn't the Hermione I knew. She's probably had a completely different life compared to my Hermione. She even seems slightly different. Her teeth were smaller than they had been even after she had had them shrunk by Madam Pomfrey. Her hair was slightly straighter, only noticeable by someone like Harry, who had seen her every day for five years. And someone who had advanced sight...like Harry.
Harry smiled. "What are you in here for?"
"Oh...I'm researching something for Ancient Runes," Hermione replied.
"Hmm," Harry remembered she took that class. But he had never been interested in attending it himself. If there was one thing he liked about Umbrella Corporation, it was that they were very particular about their teaching methods. Memories uploaded straight to his brain. All of the knowledge of runes he needed planted straight into his memories. Harry peered over at her work, frowning as he examined the wrinkled parchments that she held in her hands. He knew exactly what it was she was working on. "You're trying to discover how to build a runic array designed to produce limitless amounts of parchment and ink. I've worked on that one myself a few times. Quite easy after a bit of research,"
"Easy? We've been going over this for nearly three months," said Hermione.
"Well, I'm also a bit ahead compared to...well...everyone here," Harry replied.
"Right. Tutors,"
"No. I never had any tutors. I just..." Harry froze for a moment. "learned,"
"Learned," Hermione echoed. They sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon, until Hermione had to leave for dinner. Harry stayed in the library, getting his dinner from the elves. When he was done for then night, Harry went to rest in the spare teacher's chamber he called his room. And when he was an inch from sleep, Harry began to calm his mind, trying desperately to keep the thought of brunette hair out of his mind.
December 11th, 1984
"So, let me get this straight. You spent three days tracking down everything you could about that Voldemort guy. Doing so by dunking your head in a bowl of water showed you a bunch of memories of the evil wizard's past. And by doing that, you were able to discover that the guy made seven of those soul thingies, which are spread across the planet somewhere where you can't reach them," Harry was standing in the doorway leading into Hopper's Cabin, holding his bag on his shoulder. He hadn't been let inside. Hopper was standing in front of him, crossing his arms in a way that made him seem more annoyed than angry. Eleven was in her room somewhere, probably with Mike.
"Yep," Harry replied.
"So? Why wait until now to come back?" asked Hopper.
"I had other work to do. I repaired the damage I did to the castle, I was finishing my studies in the library. If you were interested at all, I got the Planetary Defense Ring shielding to 95% efficiency. Which means we're close to starting development," Harry pushed himself inside the cabin, dropping his bag down next to the kitchen table. "I thought I'd stop here for a few days before I went back into London for my next project," He pulled out a large scroll of parchment from his back, unrolling it on the table to reveal an archway that Harry was all too familiar with. The Veil of Death. "It's the Veil of Death. When I crossed through it, I was transported to my last universe, directly into the hands of Umbrella," Harry explained.
"Veil of Death. Some kind of portal?" Hopper questioned.
"Sort of. The wizards of Britain found it buried in a cave sometime in the second century. They knew it was powerful and knew it was dangerous. So to keep the no-maj from getting to it first, the wizards of the time build the Ministry of Magic building around it. It wasn't the Ministry at the time, only acting as a shelter for the veil. But over centuries and millennia, the building expanded as more wizards and witches were born in or migrated to Europe. And then they began to use it for executions," Harry ran his hand over the diagram of the veil, remembering the silky wall that was between the two pillars. He remembered it like it was yesterday. "They saw its power against the living. Saw that those who passed through one side didn't come out of the other. And they heard them. Whispers of those sent through. Faint voices of serial killers and loved ones alike. So they used it as their capital punishment, only slightly worse than the Dementor's Kiss,"
"Losing your soul," Hopper remembered.
"Exactly. But that doesn't happen in the Veil," Harry pulled out another set of parchments from his bag, unrolling them over the drawing of the Veil. They were notes. "I stole these from a few of the Unspeakables in the depths of the Ministry. They highlight some of the pros and cons of the Veil. Some of them are accurate while others aren't," He showed off the list to Hopper, who read along. "The Veil sucks you in at the touch. It can be a single fingertip, but it doesn't matter. Once contact is made, it grabs you as tightly as it can and pulls. I speak from experience. It felt like a hundred arms grabbing at every surface of my body. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. And all the while, my friends were pulling on the other side of me. I felt like I was going to tear at the waist," Lupin had grabbed him by the belt. Dumbledore had grabbed his ankles. He still felt their hands imprinted on the body of his soul.
"But they're wrong about the death part. You don't die when you go through a Veil," Harry pulled out a blank piece of parchment and a self-inking quill. He drew a small circle. "This is our Veil. When you pass through, it acts as a gateway to all kinds of other Veils," He drew a dozen other identical circles around the parchment, connecting them through lines. "But when I was with Sirius in Romania, we were discovering ways to return home, and I learned -" Harry pulled out another parchment, displaying the Veil alongside a mirror, both appearing almost the same. "- that Sirius had arrived in that universe, not by the Veil, but through a mirror. We learned that while the Veil's are all connected in any universe that one exists, they're also connected to all reflective surfaces. And any reflective surface large enough to receive something coming through the passage could be used as an exit or entry point,"
"So...you're trying to get home," Hopper asked.
"No. No. My home's dead. I'm trying to learn the secret to dimensional travel. Because if I can figure that out, then I can discover interdimensional travel. The ability to travel throughout the universe at speeds faster than the speed of light itself. I have a few half-baked theories cooked that are not at all reliable. But the Veil seems to have the same laws of a black hole, but the event horizon is different. It doesn't attract things from afar. It only attracts things that come in contact with it. If I can find a way to replicate that effect, I could perfect a way to slip in and out of space-time. Perhaps even find a way back to the Outside without killing myself," Harry explained. It was a bit of a stretch, but he believed it was possible.
"Right. So on top of limitless energy, global protection, and planetary colonization, you're now trying to go beyond the speed of light. I don't even want to ask if that's possible," Hopper spoke.
"Theoretically, yes. Not practically. Not yet, anyway," Harry replied with a grin.
December 14th, 1984
"Wait...what?" Harry was completely stumped. He was seated in a diner seat in the corner of the establishment, with two young girls sitting across from him. Eleven and Max. The latter had just gotten out of school and had met with Eleven here to corner Harry. Literally. And they were asking him to do something for him. To teach them how to dance. To dance for some kind of school dance named the 'Snowball'. Max was to go with Lucas, while Eleven went with Mike. But neither knew how to dance and were too embarrassed to ask Max's mother or Joyce. Understandable. "Why me?" asked Harry.
"Why not? You said that that corporation that owned you programmed your head with a bunch of memories and knowledge. I'm sure there was a dancing code in there somewhere," Max explained. Harry rolled his eyes, but she was right. Umbrella Corp. had programmed Harry's mind with a lot of things. Dancing was one of them. Ensuring that Harry could perform in any kind of undercover mission that was required of him. He knew how to dance better than he had ever had at the Yule Ball. Shit. The Yule Ball. He was a champion again. He would be forced to attend. With a date. He couldn't ask a girl his physical age, seeing as he still felt extremely awful about it. And he couldn't ask anyone his real age. That wouldn't end well legally for the female in question.
"Right. So...you want me to teach you how to dance," Harry commented.
"Exactly,"
"Simple enough. I can give you memories," He shrugged.
"No. We want real practice," Eleven replied.
"And you will get real practice. Tomorrow night at the dance," Harry spoke.
"We want to practice tonight. Before the dance," Max protested.
"Look, as much as I would love to humor your desire to be ready for a juvenile ance, I'm afraid I have better things to be doing. Like saving the planet. Curing cancer. Finding a way to send a billion people to Mars. That sort of thing," Harry explained.
"Come on. You can't have a little bit of free time to have fun?"
"What's fun about teaching two little girls to dance?" Harry asked.
"You're the same age as us. If you were a few mental years younger, you would be jumping at the chance to teach us," Max defended.
"If I were a few years younger mentally, I wouldn't be friends with you, nor would I have the time to teach you to dance. I was still dealing with the tournament back then, and if I was any younger than I am now, I wouldn't be able to hold onto the mountain of responsibility I carry on my back every day," Harry explained. "So, I think we should just go with the memories and leave it at that. Yes?"
"Harry," El spoke, her eyes piercing into his own.
"Don't," Harry warned. And then it happened. El did that...that thing with her eyes. They seemed to soften in color and intensity, and her face dropped into a frown. It made Harry sick to his stomach. He hated when she did this. It was worse than Hermione's puppy-dog eyes. They made him melt a bit inside, and he couldn't help but feel a feeling of guilt. He sighed. "Fine. I'll teach you how to dance," The girls both squealed, causing Harry to cringe as he shielded his ears. "On one condition. You don't mention this to anyone whatsoever. No-one,"
"Deal," El and Max replied at once.
Dance practice was ridiculously stupid. It was spent within the reconstructed Potter Cabin, with its living room expanded to act as a makeshift dancefloor. Harry ran them through the two most important dances. The ballroom and slow dances. The slow dance was the only one they would probably use at the Snowball Dance, but it was good to teach them anyway. And when they had learned sufficiently enough that the two girls were satisfied in their abilities, Harry led them into the kitchen for dinner. It was getting late, and they had agreed to spend the night in the Potter Cabin. The dinner was going well until Harry received a knock on his door. When he moved to answer it, he couldn't help but growl. "Mike,"
"Mike?" El asked, getting up from the table. She was shielding herself behind Max. Right, she was in her dress. The bright blue one that she planned to wear the next night. Harry was quick, casting a shadow on El and Max while wiping the last five seconds from Mike's memory. He wouldn't normally do that, but it was necessary for the surprise. Harry hated himself. "What are you doing here, Mike?" He asked.
"Oh! Uh...I was hoping...I wanted to ask...I was wondering -"
"Spit it out,"
"Right. I wanted to ask you something...in private," Harry frowned but allowed himself to be pulled out of his cabin and into the small clearing in the woods. And there, in front of his house, were three boys. Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson. And then Harry noticed what Mike was wearing. "For fuck sakes," He breathed. The boy was wearing a suit. All of them were. Will looked uncomfortable. Lucas was smiling too much. Dustin seemed afraid. And Mike had a determined expression across his face. "No...no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,"
December 15th, 1984 | Hawkins Middle School, Hawkins, Indiana
Harry Potter wanted to die. He had never felt so stupid in his life. And yet here he was in a suit and tie, sitting alone at the Hawkins Middle School Snowball Dance. Everyone was out on the dance-floor dancing. Johnathan was taking the students' pictures. And Nancy was providing the student punch. Harry though, wanted to be left alone. But he couldn't necessarily do that. He had been banned from using his workstation at the dance and was tasked to keep an eye on Eleven. But he didn't feel like doing that, seeing as she was pressed against Mike with the boy's tongue in her throat. Not something Harry wanted to keep an eye on. So, he busied himself like he always did. By planning.
He had an appointment with the Department of Mysteries the next morning, where he would visit the Veil of Death for the first time in three years. Harry needed to see it. To study it. To figure out exactly what made it tick. But he couldn't necessarily examine the Veil as he was now. Not without all three of the Hallows. They were connected. He didn't necessarily know how he knew that, but it was true. The four mythical items were all connected, and he had to figure out how and why. And if the connection was strong enough, were the Deathly Hallows his key to interdimensional travel? Or was there something else that he needed? The Upside Down? The Outside? What could he learn or use that could help him reach his goals?
"Harry?" The voice of Nancy Wheeler snapped Harry out of his thoughts, his eyes traveling up to meet hers. "What are you doing?"
"Oh...chaperoning," Harry answered.
"Eleven?" Harry gave her a nod in answer. Nancy smiled, nodding herself as she took a seat next to him. Their gazes fell on the crowd of children, silence overtaking the two as the music continued. But it was a comfortable silence. One rooted in understanding. Neither was interested in beginning a conversation, and neither was interested in leaving their seats. So they just sat there, with Harry continuing his mental rambling. The ball went all night long, until almost midnight. And when it was over, Harry and Nancy parted ways. Harry went home. He fell into bed with a sigh and began to ramble again. Life was only going to get harder over the next few years. He needed to be ready.
