Book I :: Chapter 14 :: Mirrored Truths
Harry awoke within the Hospital Wing, a calming and sleeping drought next to his bedside. A look towards the windows showed it was the middle of the night. Harry felt a slight bitter annoyance that waking up in the Wing was becoming a habit.
Tracing his hand over his cheek Harry could feel the raw flesh where his tears had saturated the skin leaving it red and puffy. Pulling the sheets off himself Harry walked out of the Hospital Wing like a mindless husk. Mindless however was the last thing Harry's mind was.
Slowly and almost fearful that it was a dream Harry wistfully returned to the mirror on the fifth floor. Stepping inside the room Harry saw the Mirror was now gone. His heart sank, leaving the room and returning to the hall.
Harry stood there uncertain of what to do. The empty halls of the school echoed the cold night wind's uncaring presence. Chilled and uncertain Harry felt his words drip off his lips unintentionally. An echo of a reminder from long ago.
"Help is always given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
Looking up at the empty halls Harry cried out softly, "Please show me to the mirror..."
Seconds passed and nothing happened until a gentle rumbling could be heard down the hall. Turning around Harry saw Navi floating as a comforting blue glow. She flew down the hall waiting at the corners before whisking away to another hallway.
Following, Harry walking toward it with nothing but a thread of hope sustaining his rationality. Reaching the moving staircases Harry watched as the stairwell moved to meet his feet as he retracted the railing. Harry climbed the stairs. Up, then down. Down again, then right, leaving him standing firmly upon the third-floor left wing corridor. It was only a few meters away from the other door.
Once there a door handle budged rebelliously against its frame, standing tauntingly in front of Harry, ready to be opened. Harry grabbed the restless door as it seemed to rebel against its fingers feeling far harder to open then it should. Beneath his grip the handle quelled its movements and followed through with Harry's intent to enter.
Opening the door revealed the mirror standing alone within an empty stone chamber.
Harry felt tense again as the mirror shimmered tantalizingly in the moonlight. The stone walls and floor of the near empty room reflected the cold and cruel doubt that lingered inside Harry.
His body felt heavy as lead, bogged down as if caught in melted taffy. The distance between him and the mirror felt elongated even though it was a few feet away.
Pushing forward, ignoring his bodies plea to remain ignorant Harry pressed forward. Ever fearful that what he saw was a lie, that seeking the answer would come back to mock him eagerly, much like the rest of his life had till that point.
Standing before the Mirror for a third time Harry's reflection grinned back happily at him. With no tears to cry, his view was unhindered and strangely crisp with clarity. The image changed and grew as he drew closer and only once he was set right before the mirror to its image change fully.
Where an eleven-year-old Harry stood in the cold night, a lanky but muscular Harry who looked to be pushing thirty stood, proud and happy.
Within the mirror he stood tall with a small bundle swaddled within his hands. Next to him standing equally confident and similarly aged Hermione and Ginny on either side of him.
Hermione stood, an authoritarian figure that would put even McGonagall's reputation to shame, the image of a powerful and incorruptible Minister of Magic. Gentle, vibrant violet silk enchanted robes embraced her elegant and proud form, cutting a noble and imposing witch.
Her hair dressed back and caressing her left shoulder was groomed and tidy, no longer the bushy nest it was usually. Her teeth fix and her chest far fuller then her youthful counterpart, showed exactly how beautiful a woman she would become.
Ginny leaned on her broom, a heavily modified and fortified metallic Cleansweep. She was all grown up, just as he remembered and wore something Harry only made a few hundred years later for the Naturals he fought with.
While it didn't exist yet, she wore one of Harry's old battle cloaks. Black as midnight, it was woven out of a special spider silk forged and modified by alchemy and runic engravings.
Tough, durable, and almost impervious to magic, it was the magical equivalence of a level three bullet proof vest. Clearly filled to the brim with combat relics if the weighted look was anything to go by, Ginny cut an imposing figure that brought visions of a modern-day Athena to mind.
Her uniform reminded him of the WAS-909 uniform he himself wore in the military. She wore it much like a soldier, however unlike when he wore it, Ginny carried the black cloak as a witch trained in war.
Her petite chest and filled hourglass figure stood straight and tall even if it was slightly masked by the heavy mantle and cloak of her battle ware. Her brilliant crimson hair flowed down her shoulders on either side reminded Harry of silk woven flames. He could almost remember the feeling and the warmth those fiery red locks gave him between his fingers.
At first, he wondered why his innermost desire pictured her as a soldier but then he recalled how she was lost on the cusp of war. The memory while faded from both time and magic still held a solid image of a woman determined to crush anyone who'd harm her family.
Harry let his concerns slide as we looked back at the two women in the reflection.
The two stared at each other and then at Harry within the mirror. With great big grins plastered on their faces, they both took turns placing a gentle peck on Harry's cheek causing him to blush but smile as well. Placing an arm around Hermione, Harry returned Ginny's kiss and he let Hermione collapse gently into his side, her head resting lovingly on his shoulder.
Behind them Harry could see a shy boy behind Hermione, clearly a few years old, four or five, holding a book that was far larger than even Hogwarts: A History. Similarly, beside Ginny were two red headed twins of similar ages around four of five, were exchanging grins and snickers that reminded Harry eerily of Fred and George. They were both looked at the young boy behind Hermione and ever so often would double team and chase him around the feet of the tree adults.
But most importantly was the look in Harry's eye, the hollow look within his dark green eyes and glistened brightly like jewels when he stared at his loved ones. Those were his eyes. Not the eyes of a child lost nor the eyes of a man who sought after death with heartless abandon. Those were not the eyes of a child who gained knowledge, but the eyes of experience yet they were also not the eyes of the man he feared.
This was his true desire… The family he almost had, the children he could have had. Even in the foreground Harry could see the image of himself and Ginny, standing within a small picture frame with three children around them. Two boys, one girl. A reminder of his first family that Harry himself couldn't remember himself.
Harry sat down in front of the mirror. If he had tears, he would have bet his entire fortune that he would be crying at that very moment. He sat there half watching as his counterpart was shoved away by Hermione and Ginny who place a tender kiss on his lips. Pushing him back to return the favor to Hermione Harry watched as the three shared a moment together.
He was wrong. He didn't kill Harry Potter, replacing the child's mind. He didn't even erase all of his past returning himself to his youthful form. This was Harry Potter the man he wanted to become but failed to be. He failed but those feelings... they weren't a lie.
"It wasn't a lie." Harry choked out, simply sitting and gazing up at the mirror.
It was real, his desire to be with Hermione and Ginny. He wasn't lying to them or seeking out a long dead emotion. He wasn't lying to himself. No matter what became of him or what he went through with the ritual Harry now knew that everything he had done, everything he felt. These where his feelings, his emotions, his wants, desires, and dreams.
He was Harry Potter.
He recalled the voice that he encounters the night he returned to the wizarding world. 'There was only one Harry Potter'.
How ironic that said doppelganger was partially responsible for his own self-doubt despite its words.
If his return to the past was just that and it was only his memories, then he wouldn't have seen the two of them within the mirror. Harry knew he'd more than likely be seeing his parents.
No, he saw Ginny and Hermione, his Ginny and Hermione. The dream that had haunted him for many years. A constant reminder of his own failings. The two women who raised him up from the ashes of pain and brought him happiness… who also triggered his darkest raising.
Harry sat their basking in this revelation for what felt like an hour. Sitting so still upon the cold stone Harry had lost feeling in his legs. He didn't care that he did. Watching the mirror play back his desire Harry felt a sense of salvation and hope drape over him. Despite the odd nature of his being, he was back and now had a second chance at living his dreams.
With his doubts ebbing away Harry was free to rationally think over the nature of his being there.
The ritual was designed to erase his existence, all of his being, both physical and magical.
The nature of his curse required it. As he understood it, Time and Space were like parallel lines, never intersecting and always interlocked. If living or existing was a line it would similarly exist as perpendicular to these two lines at a perfect ninety degrees. Move it down and both time and space and one could understand existence or experience.
His curse of immortality was worked along these lines by locking his being at various points. At the points of intersect Harry could be said to have been anchored to existence. The curse would warp these lines much like gravity would so they would overlap. Should his body be destroyed, the curse would warp his existence to a time where it wasn't and if his time was locked say by a spell or binding magic his special existence would shift to a point prior or later down the line. Trying to destroy both would simply have the curse bend both to such points before they were destroyed.
And inevitable loop of immortality and suffering.
The ritual to send him back was intent to make use of this nature. To warp the curse itself, himself, so far that his magic and his physical existence would go back so far that he would cease to exist. The curse having no point of time, space, or magic, to anchor onto would inevitably be broken and Harry himself dead… finally.
However, he didn't die, he was still alive. Anchored to his childhood self he was still alive. To the rest of the world he traveled back in time, but that wasn't accurate. He simply rewrote time as it stood. His ritual anchored his existence much like it would always do. Just instead of anchoring moments or seconds before his inevitable death, it anchored back to hundreds of years prior.
Harry could feel the need to laugh but kept it in. His goal was to die, and he came so close. What 990 year out of a thousand, only ten years short of death. He couldn't help but feel that life was mocking him that no matter what he did, he'd always fall short of his own demise.
It did however bring up a good question. Harry Potter received his curse sometime after he graduated Hogwarts or so he understood that to be the truth. Did that mean he was no longer immortal, or did the curse still lingers on him?
This question lingered but that thought of changing his grim future had Harry floating on air.
It didn't matter really. If he was immortal still, he'd simply have to share his immortality. He had the stone now so it would be a matter of time before his expertise in dying led him to perfecting his own stone. If he wasn't immortal, he could finally die like he always wanted too. No reason to rush it after surviving and returning after a thousand years.
So entranced and happy within his mind that Harry failed to notice Dumbledore standing within the doorway until he spoke, breaking him from his thoughts, "Back again Harry?"
Harry shot up wand pulled from his pocket, ready for an attack. His movements seamless and practiced from years of experience. The voice of his arch enemy alighting his adrenaline with fire and anger before he realized it himself. This was not the man he fought time and again all those years.
It always felt off, this aged man and the wizard that brought so much death to the world by his dogmatic teachings. They were similar yes, both in their appearance and ideals, but the biggest difference was the air around them. One screamed of death and decay, the one standing before him of wisdom and regret.
"You've left Poppy in a right state with your disappearance Harry," Dumbledore continued ignoring Harry's wand pointed right at him. "Her and might I add Professor Snape and two particular twins.
Harry felt a sheepish grin threatened to appear when he realized that he had left the twin inside his trunk earlier that day. "Guess they figured out how to get out." Harry thought.
"Sorry Sir." Harry muttered slowly lowering his wand but not once loosening his grip on it.
"I understand how enticing this mirror can be Harry, it is no matter. After visiting it so much I am sure by now you know what it does." Dumbledore said.
"It shows us nothing less than our deepest and most desperate desire." Harry said giving the mirror half a glance. When he looked back Harry saw that he had taken a little of the wind out of Dumbledore's sails and couldn't help but feel a spike of pride at it. The old wizard apparently had not expected Harry to have known how the mirror functioned.
"Then Harry you must understand that it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Many a man has wasted away in front of this mirror."
Harry gave a sad smile as he looked at the mirror, "I can believe that sir."
Dumbledore looked at Harry with a critical eye. Harry showed no sign of longing for whatever the mirror showed him, nor did Harry seem to be looking at the mirror itself. What was he shown that left Harry so lost in thought in front of the mirror he wondered?
"Harry, perhaps you can fulfill an old man's curiosity." Dumbledore asked in his cheery and grandfatherly tone.
Harry gave a cautious eye at the man. The guarded look gave Dumbledore not but a moment of pause before he asked without hearing an answer, "Why have you returned to the mirror for a third time, Harry?"
"I wanted to know that what I saw was real." Harry answered with a dreamy expression. It was a look of hope.
Dumbledore let a frown appear as he warned, "Harry, whatever the mirror shows is not real. It is simply a reflection of your deepest wish. It does not foretell the future Harry."
Harry shook his head. "Perhaps that was the wrong way of putting it. I wanted to know what I saw the last time wasn't an illusion."
"An illusion?" Dumbledore asked intrigued.
"Yes, sir. A fear that has been haunting me since I got on the Express has loomed over most of my journey through this year. The mirror has proven my fears baseless. I wanted to make sure that what it showed me, wasn't something I made up myself in desperation. It may only be a reflection but that is still a reflection born of who I am."
Harry turned to face Dumbledore, "Not even you can call my innermost desire false. Real or fake; this mirror has proven that my desires are real… that I am me."
Dumbledore looked at Harry through his half-mooned spectacles as his vibrant and sparkling purple robe dragged behind him.
"It's funny really," Harry continued with a relieved yet morbid sigh, "I made a vow to myself to pursue my desires, my wish, and I became afraid after a while that my wish wasn't my own. That I was under the sway of another again Professor."
"Again?" Dumbledore calmly said as his eyes widened at the implications that his knowledge created.
Harry continued on ignoring his question. "I was afraid that my wish wasn't my own. That my desires were a lie. However, this mirror, its magic showed me it wasn't. My wish, my desires, they are mine. I could only have acquired them if it was me who wished for it. While not my deepest wish, both were reflected in this mirror along with my deepest desire."
Yes, Harry thought to himself. This wasn't him traveling back in time but moving forward in time as he always had. There was, is, and will always be one Harry Potter.
Dumbledore however ignored this as he asked again, his mind racing, "Why would you believe that your wishes were not your own?"
Harry's smile vanished and a cold gripping frown scowled at the Headmaster. "You know full well Professor." Harry said with not, but a hint of sadness masked behind a cold and hateful tone.
"Most of my life my fate has been dictated for me. My choices and well being ignored so long as others benefited from it." Harry stated recalling how so long as the Dursley's could ignore the existence of magic it mattered not what happened to him.
"Harry, it does no one any good to dwell on doubt and the fears of control." Dumbledore said.
Harry froze, not a nerve fired within his boiling thoughts. He didn't just tell him what he thought he did. He did not just tell him not to worry about others manipulating his life. Harry looked at Dumbledore with clouded eyes as he continued.
"Your life has been filled with the loss of your parents, and now you may feel alone now but look around you Harry. You can find that you have made many friendships since you arrived, especially with the Weasley's twins and Ms. Granger." Albus continued.
Harry felt a cold a burning lump growing in the pit of his stomach as Dumbledore continued walking closer to Harry.
"Life has a tendency to throw us cruel and unforgiving fates, but the friendships we make, the people we love, they are things we make ourselves. So, Harry," Dumbledore continued as he placed a wrinkled hand on his shoulder, "Do not dwell on what misfortunes befall us and live looking forward to a brighter future."
Harry was shivering, his rage peeling off him with ripe indignation. Harry swung his arm smacking Dumbledore's hand off his shoulder.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked concerned as Harry stepped back his shoulder's quivering madly.
"Don't dwell, Professor? Are you telling me to forgive and forget what they did to me?" Harry growled through gritted teeth.
"Vengeance and hate grants no one peace Harry." Dumbledore answered.
Harry bit his lip. "You didn't answer my question. Are you telling me that after everything they did, I should let everything go unpunished?"
"Harry, another lived similar to you fell down the path of vengeance seeking to bring justice on a world that had wronged him. Don't go down that path Harry. Nothing good will come of it." Dumbledore warned.
Harry still shaking with anger started laughing at Dumbledore. The aged wizard grew more worried and fearful watched as Harry seemed to descend into madness, before coming right back out of it.
"Sorry Professor, it's just funny. I had long since ignored what my relatives have done. So much so that I didn't care what became of them once I left. I even waited silently for death to free me from them. For good or ill, the moment I awoke in St. Mungo's I no longer cared what became of them. I was free of them." Harry said calmly staring at the floor.
Memories of all the pain and suffering flashed in Harry's mind but all of them felt dull, distant in the same manner that Harry viewed his relatives.
It was a reflection of Harry's first ten years. Those years felt bland, dim, almost grayed out. They were hollow and empty like that of a husk performing the motions but experiencing none of it. Like he wasn't completely there. Then again maybe he wasn't, Harry thought. His 'self' didn't stick until he turned into an Obscurus and awoke at St. Mungo's. It could explain why he didn't 'feel' anything during all those years.
They weren't a lie though. He did suffer and he did remember what they did. He wasn't lying either. In his heart of hearts, he didn't care about them. They could perish right in front of him and while sad at the death before him, Harry would feel no sadness for his uncle, aunt or cousin.
"No matter what they did, they never did it to me. My relatives hated magic. My aunt hated it for she lacked it. My uncle because it conflicted with his view of how the world worked. My cousin is the only one I could possibly care about because he simply mimicked what my aunt and uncle did, hate." Harry spoke coldly.
"Harry they can't be..." Albus started in an attempt to sway Harry's beliefs but was cut off by Harry when he continued.
"Blood isn't as trusting as you believe Professor. Family is something forged by love not blood. The Dursely's may have been of my blood but they're never considered me family." Harry stated coldly, his eyes staring into the depths of Albus's crystal blue. "and I can forgive them for it. I can understand. However, no child should go through what I did. All those nights of tasting iron in my mouth, the only thing that kept me going was dreams, DREAMS! Dreams where I went far away to another world where I could do amazing things."
Harry calmed himself and glared diffidently and proudly underneath the shadow of the man.
"Hogwarts is like a dream come true Professor. The Wizarding World for all its faults and bigotry is everything I could have hoped for. A release from the pain and suffering the Dursely's inflicted on me." Harry said nearly shouting. Confident and defying. In part he was lying, replacing his immortality with the name Dursley, however that change didn't change the feeling itself.
In the corner of his eye, Harry would have seen Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey hiding just beyond the door to the room, peering in. However, so focus was his ire directed at the source of his pain that Harry didn't.
"I'm an Obscurial Professor and you know why! Or do you ignore that inconvenient truth as well?" Harry asked rhetorically. His arm tense and his wand hot between his fingers.
Dumbledore looked confused at Harry's choice of words.
Harry grinned menacingly as he told another white lie, "I remember it Albus. That night. The night you ignored that one truth presented to you for your own purposes."
Raising his wand to eye level Harry pointed it directly at the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts. "They are the worst sort of Muggles imaginable." Harry quoted.
Dumbledore's eyes grew into full moons, each filled with shock and dismay. A gasp was uttered from the hall that both Harry and Albus noticed but ignored.
"I remember those words. The words Professor McGonagall said to you. At that time, she should have taken me from you and to somewhere safe, where I would have been loved. She didn't, and I forgive her for that. In the end she saved me and brought me to the world I had dreamed of for ten torturous years. She introduced me to my greatest wish."
The reunion with the people I loved.
"But you Albus, ignored those words. They didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were my relatives. Not that they could or would harm me. It didn't matter that my aunt was envious of magic and would take it out on me. Nor the fact that my Uncle hated anything that went against his beliefs!"
Harry let his wand drop back to his side, the weight of his shoulders visible for all to see.
"Harry you must forgive an old man's mistakes." Dumbledore wistfully asked, but Harry shook his head.
"I already have. But there are only so many second chances anyone can give Professor." Harry said shaking his head. Solemnly Harry spoke, "I did a lot of research since I entered this world. I have a house, a mansion apparently. Potter Manor the goblins called it, I think. The runes around that house are like many other ancient manors of ancient and noble houses. Those runes are some of the oldest and most powerful in existence. Some even predating laws the Ministry made making them illegal, allowed only due to a technicality that they were already there and couldn't be removed carelessly if at all."
"My parents had lived there. They knew that it was one of the safest places in the world. Not even You-Know-Who could have breached them quickly enough to have reached my parents. I know you convinced them to hide in Godric's Hollow. There was no other reason for them to hide there unless someone they trusted, someone of your notoriety advised them to perform such a stupid decision. A small house with almost no protections and certainly none that could compare to Potter Manor. Yet somehow you convinced them to leave a location that was as protected as Hogwarts for a small house in the middle of a small town."
Pointing his wand even more firmly at Albus Harry stared down the man who had, for ten years, controlled his life. "You are responsible for my parents DEATHS, ABLUS DUMBLEDORE! MY PARENTS WOULD STILL BE ALIVE HAD YOU LEFT THEM ALONE OR DIRECTED THEM TO HIDE WITHIN THEIR MANOR!" Harry shouted tears clearly absent from his burning yet tearing gaze. Harry once again let his wand drop to his side still firmly in hand.
"And I forgive you for that."
The words hung heavily in the air with a sickening silence.
Harry added it with an agonizing, grief-stricken vocalization. His words tearing at the hearts of those in the hallway just out of sight.
"I forgive you for guiding them to their deaths, regardless of why, I forgive you. I forgive you for not telling me about my heritage, I forgive you for never checking on my well-being when you left me with my relatives, I forgive you for dooming me to the fate of being an Obscurial, I forgive you for allowing something as dangerous as a Troll to even be close enough to threaten someone I hold dear. I forgive you Albus for all of these things." Harry finished his throat raw and sore but not finished.
"But I cannot forgive you Albus for standing there as if you are my grandfather. I can't forgive you for telling me to abandon my dreams that for so long has motivated me to live. The one thing that in my time desiring death, kept my alive and motivated to live. You took my parents, my childhood, and chance for a loving family. For leaving me with those who turned me into this, who tortured me and nearly made me fear my magic itself. I have forgiven you, Professor, many times. But I can't forgive you for nearly costing me my magic and standing there in the role of the man and woman who gave birth to me."
Killing green eyes flashed up as Albus as Harry spoke in a level but murderous tone. "You are not my family and you never will be. Don't even try to take their place in my heart. Their love, is nothing compared to you."
Harry let out a long sigh, his breath crisp and viable within the cold night air. A smile of relief now adorned Harry as years of pent up pain and frustration left him, his sense of self solidified and his goals realized. With indifferent eyes Harry looked at Albus Dumbledore. "I will take my leave now Professor. I should go back and take my punishment for leaving Madam Pomfrey's care without permission."
As he walked away Harry was certain now more than ever. While he wasn't sure if Albus Dumbledore was a good or bad presence in his current life, this man wasn't the one he knew all those years ago. There was a startling difference. Harry had asked himself before, why didn't he just kill the old man when he first met him. Aside from the problems that would arise, Harry now knew why he didn't.
This man wasn't the Bright Lord he knew. They might have the same bodies, similar philosophies, but there was a lingering lack of life in the one he knew. Harry always felt a sort of kinship with the Bright Lord, as someone who knew death intimately. This intimacy was something this old man lacked.
This man knew nothing of death.
Not waiting for an answer Harry briskly walked past a dumbfounded Albus without so much as a glance at him. Making it to the door Harry saw Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall both seemingly distracted, dealing with their own internal strife from what they had heard.
With a final utterance from Harry, Dumbledore stood briskly as Harry's final words drifted over his shoulder, "Never Again." With his parting breath Harry walked off, his steps lighter than they had ever felt before.
Yes, he swore to not let the loved ones in his life die like before. This time he would be ready. Time was on his side, and he would be ready.
Upon his return to the Hospital Wing, Harry sat quietly on his cot looking out at the snow glowing gently in the moon light's reflection as it fell. The landscape glowed, the small flakes twinkling like a small star as they fell. It was oddly morbid and beautiful to Harry. Pure white yet cold and silent. A white canvas with nothing to show, and everything it could become.
Swinging his left leg back under the sheets Harry curled up under the warm blankets. Harry reviewed what had happened within his head and, while mentally berating himself for revealing his distrust and dislike for the Headmaster, felt that it had gone pretty well all things considering.
Harry hadn't expected the two Professors to be outside nor did he know how long they were there but hopefully his outburst wouldn't cause too much of a rift to form between them.
"Maybe I should make some Acne Scrubbing Salve for Madam Pomfrey. Acne always seems to be a problem and the salve might make it up to her." Harry wondered aloud thinking of ways to make it up to the caring Healer.
"There will be no need for that Potter." Madam Pomfrey declared form the giant doors at the entrance.
Turning to apologized she raised a hand to quiet him. "But if you do have a salve that could solve the acne problem here, I won't be against some more adventurous students testing it. Under careful conditions and observations." she said.
Pointing at the two potions by his bedside she gave him two commands before leaving his presence. "Take that calming drought on the left then the dreamless sleep potion on the right. Take it now and get your rest. If you do you should be free to go by morning."
As he did as he was told, Harry watched as the Healer left for her office where she watched him finish his potions from within the doorway. Just as Harry's head hit his pillow again, he listened as she left him to sleep's gentle embrace.
"Sleep well Mr. Potter." Where the last but kind words that greeted him before the encompassing darkness swallowed him.
oOoOoOo
Further away, many miles from Hogwarts, on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon England was a magical dwelling that looked like many shacks stack on top of each other precariously. Going even further past that, five red and very fiery heads could be found sitting around a table and couch within a large tent.
They were the five remaining Weasley's; Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny Weasley. On the auspicious and joyous night of Christmas day, the mood was light, cheerful and happy.
Or it should have been if not for the odd worry hung in the air around as the family surrounded the youngest of the bunch. Molly and Arthur Weasley loomed over their youngest, fussing over her as she sobbed uncontrollably in her mother's arms. Her father exerting a comforting and protective presence over them both.
Charlie and Bill where hunched over a desk, overlooking and inspecting what they believed to be the cause of their sister's distress.
A larger than average sized golden snitch with four silvery wings lay passive on the table.
"It seems she has calmed down." Arthur said holding both his near panicking wife and still sobbing youngest. "Let's get her tucked in while the calming draught works its magic.
"Yes... yes I think that will do." Molly agreed as she lifted herself away from her daughter who still had tears running down her face as she wept in mid slumber. Charlie arose from his work to aid her trembling figure. Lifting Ginny into his arms Charlie carried his sister to one of the cots within the tent, Molly right behind him. As the three left Arthur walked to his eldest.
Sensing his father's presence Bill answered his father before he could ask, "Nothing Dad. No curse, no charms, nothing; there is absolutely nothing that should have caused Ginny to break down like that."
"So, the gift isn't dangerous?" Arthur asked with concern.
"Aside from being a rather large disposable object, its harmless." Bill replied biting his lip as something tickled his intrigue. "However,"
"What?" Arthur asked his concerns rising with the pause.
"It's just amazing. This Snitch is a real piece of work. It's obviously custom made but that's only on the surface level. Beneath the surface is an intricate pattern and array of basic runes that I've never seen before. The size of them is just barely possible and honestly, I don't know how the person who made it could carve them in without actually carving into the metal."
Arthur looked with interest as his son pointed out the smoothness and beauty of the enchantments and where they were applied. Arthur looked only more confused as his son dived deeper into rune and curse-breaker gibberish.
"Hold on, why is this so amazing. As far as I can tell these are just basic runes and enchantments." Arthur replied.
To which Bill agreed, "They are. What is amazing is how seamless and perfectly executed these runes and enchantments are placed. The placement is a bit rough showing inexperience in making them, most likely from a lack of understanding about Arithmancy, but the layout, the blueprint of their placement shows a masters worth of experience and confidence. It's quite amazing. Confusing but amazing"
"I don't care how amazing it is!" Molly Weasley shouted clearly peeved at her boy's response to the object she blamed for her daughter's break down. "I want to know why and how it hurt my girl."
"Mom, its harmless, nothing regarding the snitch could hurt anyone magical or otherwise." Bill informed. "Hell, if I showed this to my boss at Gringotts I swear they'd probably request hundreds to be made to improve the efficiency of their internal postal system.
"Then what happened, who sent us that thing in the first place!?" Molly shouted in outrage.
Bill laughed, "That's something I can answer."
Drawing forth a small letter that he retrieved from inside the snitch when Ginny started crying madly, he handed it to his mother.
To: Ginny Weasley
This is a handmade snitch I... er... me and a friend made so that we can more easily send and receive our letters.
I was kinda at a lost as to what kind of gift I should send you, until I remembered how we've been running Hedwig ragged over the season.
It's magically charmed to respond only to you and the sender, or it will if you make the choice for it to do so. Just tap your wand on it and say your name then who you wish to send it to. I hope it brings a bit of magic to your holidays and that you are in well spirits.
PS Hogwarts looks forward to having you within her halls. So do the rest of us here. Me as well. I look forward to meeting you in person. Merry Christmas Ginny.
Sincerely, Harry J. Potter
Molly eyes practically fell out of her head at the sight of his name. She knew Harry Potter was sending her daughter letters and knew the boy wasn't a threat of her or any of them. It was Harry Potter after all. She had heard how her youngest son had got on his bad side from her twins but even they spoke quite highly of him and how amazing he was at times.
Similarly, Ginny's life ever since he started sending her letters telling the little girl all about Hogwarts and the magic, he had experienced there was a welcome blessing to behold.
For Ginny who had been left behind and received few if any letters from her brothers, Harry gave her the feeling of being a part of Hogwarts even while she waited eagerly to join them.
From his letters even Molly thought that the man behind the quill was a kind and caring young man who saw a little of himself in Ginny. His letters always brought a much-needed smile to Ginny who had been down, especially during those months after her brothers left.
Ginny was always her precious little girl and rarely smiled as she did when she read letters from him. In fact, she was the quiet child of the house, only coming out of her shell occasionally for the Charlie, Arthur and herself. Molly always wondered why Ginny was reluctant around her as her smiles always seemed forced but at this point and ten years later it was a simple fact of nature. There was a rift of some kind between her daughter and herself.
A similar rift existed between Ginny and most of the family.
She loved the twins but, in their presence, she always grew silent of tearful. Ron's presence in her life always resulted in her quietly shutting down and avoiding her brother at all cost, something that was very strange to Molly.
Arthur simply rationalized that she was in a sibling rivalry with Ron, something that was common among siblings close in age. The twins likely pranked her like they did Ron. Instead of spiders whatever they did must simply cause her to tear up occasionally and that it wasn't a big deal.
While she did worry, she had to admit that Ginny always cried in the twin's presence when she was young and it did peter off in recent years, reduced to a light melancholy between her and them.
Ginny herself was a difficult girl to raise, quiet, prim proper and rebellious in manners that didn't cause problems to anyone she was very different then her brothers.
However, despite all this Molly loved her dearly.
But this fact only made her worry for her girl more as she seemed detached from the world.
For the first time in her life Ginny was smiling brilliantly and even hopeful of the future. Having seen the difference before and after, all her happiness from before seemed robotic. Mechanical at worst, automatic at best, her actions felt false in comparison.
The only true emotion she had ever shown properly was sadness and acceptance.
Looking down at the letters Molly had to wonder just what had caused such a change in her daughter. The letter was normal. The means of delivery was considerate and apparently safe. Everything she understood about Harry Potter was that he was a kind considerate boy.
Looking down at the letter she felt her grip tighten around the parchment as worry consumed her.
Ginny hadn't even read the letter when she broke into tears. She glared anxiously at the large snitch. She hadn't even touched the device before breaking down.
"Oh Ginny." Molly whispered painfully on the verge of tears herself. That night she would sleep away with the constant anxiety of not knowing what caused her daughter to break down into tears at the sight of the four-winged Snitch.
oOoOoOo
Edward 'Ted' Tonks was many things. An economic solicitor, a legal adviser, a loving husband, a doting father, a muggleborn wizard, and currently an enslaved employee of Gringotts.
Within his home in London, Ted Tonks sat uncomfortably in his chair with a headache. Before him was his desk overwhelmed with a camel's back worth of papers that threatened to collapse his desk under the strain.
When he was hired months ago for this job, Edward Tonks had a simple pile of papers to overlook. It was a simple job if not a strange one outside of his field of expertise.
Little did he know back then at the end of August, five months ago, when his talents were called upon by Gringotts that he would end up swamped under the wave of papers before him.
It was supposed to be like any other Gringotts job. Walk in, get told the job, talk with several purebloods, ignore the mockery about his blood status, get paid, get kicked out by Nookgut. Do the work given, report his findings, solicit, move on, and greet his wife, await the next job.
None of that happened however.
Walking in he was given the all-important task of tracing back several years – twelve to be exact – worth of records and find any and all discrepancies within the records and report the results.
Those twelve years unfortunately multiplied into twenty-three over the course of his investigations. Dammit he was a solicitor not secretary and yet here he was reviewing the work for legal and criminal offenses.
This was not something he would normally do as he was a solicitor by trade. He gave economic advice and more frequently as of late, legal advice to clients.
After all, with the end of the war and young heirs coming into their own, Ted found most problems he encountered were from young witches and wizards coming into inheritances that were legally grey if not outright dark. Several were muggleborn and knew little of wizarding law to boot. As such he was a unique case in the field of soliciting, being a hybrid of both economic adviser and legal aid.
However, two things made this job different. First Gringotts was paying nearly six times what he would normally be paid to do this job well. Considering the current economy in wizarding Britain this was too good to pass up. And so right on that spot, Ted accepted the job. Second, and to his befuddlement, was the acknowledgment from Ragnuk who informed him that there was unscrupulous activity regarding this particular customer's account.
This statement was the closest thing anyone could receive from a goblin essentially admitting to illegal practices of fraud from within the goblin run organization.
So naturally Edward Tonks was stupefied at the statement.
Who could blame him? Goblin's held a deep hatred and loathing for wizards. Finding them dishonorable, manipulative, and spiteful for a number of reasons. They themselves cared little for gold as it was simply a means of getting back at the one-sided treaties they were forced under after several rebellions on their end.
No, what they valued was their nation and self-pride. Goblins by traditions were smiths and proud of it. They were most proud when crafting and smelting new works. Goblins were a nationalist nation and if there was one thing they hated more than wizards, it was traitors. So, Ted was left contemplating if some wizard was stupid enough to try to warp the system, spell a goblin, or God forbit a goblin turned traitor and worked with a wizard.
All of the above left Ted fearful of a renewed rebellion between wizards and Goblins.
However, being the well respecting and respected man that he was, he graciously accepted the job and by graciously he meant that he took the job since it wasn't smart to turn down the request of a high-ranking goblin who basically stated he didn't trust other goblins to take care of the task.
And so, Tonks was willingly 'forced' into the task of investigating Harry Potter's statements and investments, wading through the papers upon papers, with the looming fear of renewed tensions escalating between Goblins and Wizards.
Ted sighed painfully as he stretched his neck out against the back of his recliner chair. After several months of investigation Ted now understand why the old goblin was reluctant to trust his fellow goblins with this investigation.
The old frog wasn't kidding about the records being fishy. Missing numbers, investments withdrawn, property location records erased, entire withdrawals disappearing into thin air, and stocks mysteriously being sold and bought without any papertrail to be found. Worse was how far back the limitless number of inconsistencies of a supposedly locked account seemed to go.
And to top it all off with a proverbial cherry, each action recorded was legally grey. Not illegal per se but each case came pretty damn close to being so both within goblin law and wizarding law.
As far as Ted could tell the trail went as far back as twenty years if not twenty-five years. The more Ted looked into this the more he realized something major was happening.
While almost all of the actions were legal, utilizing a loophole or law as a work around, the records detailed a systematic deconstruction of the Potter wealth and subsequent attempt to reallocate the control of said remaining wealth to other vaults or patrons, some of which remained unknown.
For the first ten or so years the inconsistencies were small, insignificant, and well hidden. Everything after the Potter family's deaths however were bold but cleverly disguised. Massive withdraws under the clause of stagnating wealth, whole investments being pulled by goblin accountants due to said businesses withdrawing from the market under suspicious reasons. The list of suspicious activities increased readily over the years and while no evidence existed to proclaim any illegal activity it all accumulated into a very checkered range of activity.
Ted looked unseeingly at his ceiling. This activity was suspicious but according to the papers so far it was all legal. Nothing could be done regarding it. This however left a bad taste in his mouth. Clearly someone powerful, who so far remained unnamed, was set on acquiring the Potter fortune.
Some of the papers led him to suspect that magic was used to hide some of the actions made and yet there was no evidence to prove or disprove that hypothesis of his.
And so, Ted was left to believe that someone, capable in magic and possessed powerful political ties within Gringotts and the Government was using their magic and/or influence to hide the numerous activities under their name. The problem was Ted had no evidence to prove this even though he had a name to work with, as much as he wanted to not believe that he was responsible.
"Any luck dear?"
Ted looked down from the mountain of work and his thoughts to smile at his wife. "No Ann, plenty of speculation but nothing consequential to pin it on someone." Ted said rubbing his shoulders.
Andromeda Tonks, the ex-black sheep of the Black family and the women who he loved more than anyone, with the exception of his daughter, stood proudly in the doorframe of his study. She walked around with a subtle appeal that hinted to his more primal nature. Walking behind his chair she lent him a few fingers to his stiff shoulders.
Ted leaned back into her as she leaned herself against the back of his head, her chin situated comfortably upon the crown of his head.
Ted swore to himself as her presence reminded him of how lucky he was. Lucky to not only have married such a loving and powerful witch but also that only a true Black could be so blessed with such ample cleavage.
"Ow!" Ted shouted as Andromeda pulled at his ear. "What was that for."
Andromeda gave him a firm glare. "Edward Tonks, you keep your mind out of the cauldron and you'll get to keep what's left of your ear."
Ted chuckled. Yup, this was the woman he loved and the leash that kept him grounded. As his daughter demonstrated daily, Tonks members were generally adventurous and tended to be slightly oblivious and free in their aloofness and clumsiness.
If Nymphadora got her looks from her mother, then her free spirit clearly came from him.
Looking back down at his work he sighed again. While Edward Tonks might not have been very adventurous himself, settling for a beautiful wife and standard job, he was occasionally reminded that paperwork wasn't really for him even if he was good at dealing with it.
Andromeda followed his line of sight and sighed along with him.
"So, still unable to find any connections?" Andromeda asked. Ted nodded.
"There's subjective evidence that a powerful witch or wizard, someone with high clearance or authority is dismantling the Potter legacy. Clearly something is going on, but it's all done above the books and anything they could be incriminating is suspiciously lost, not recorded, or black listed."
Ted let of a frustrated sigh.
"To pull this off without alerting anyone… They would need an immense amount of magic or political pull, probably both." Ted said to his wife.
He lifted up one of the sheets depicting several withdraws to show to her.
"See this, this kind of withdraw wouldn't have been possible unless it was made the exact moment the Wizengamot was in session for the inheritance crisis bill."
Andromeda looked it over herself as she added, "That bill that allowed close relatives or friends to open side vaults to better secure and store family wealth if all heirs are below age? The one that was legal for all of three hours before Longbottom rebutted it?"
Ted nodded, "Yeah, politics aside, it's a pretty cleaver withdraw. The bill is convoluted enough that the paperwork could easily be lost before the transaction and still legally allow the transaction without raising any eyebrows. Worse is, on the surface it would be completely legal even should the money vanish during said transactions."
"Legal theft, is it?" Andromeda guessed. Ted nodded.
"The thing is no one in the Ministry has this kind of sway and those that do, well their accounts are clean and accounted for," Ted answered lifting up several statement sheets including one for Amelia Bones.
"I'm amazed the goblins gave you these…" Andromeda said in honest shock.
Ted just sighed with a slight nod. "Well it just goes to show how big of a deal this is becoming." He explained. "The Goblins hate two things more than anything else, Manipulative Wizards and Traitors… two things this job are starting to reveal as both possible and likely to involve."
Andromeda nodded in understanding. "I see what you mean…" she muttered as she looked over a few other sheets. "Something is definitely fishy here and the ones responsible would need both political clout and inside help."
"Any guesses as to where all the kid's wealth could have vanished to?" Andromeda asked as she read the notes her husband had made on the side of several sheets identifying inconsistencies within the records.
Sadly, he shook his head in remorse. "None. It just vanishes, no records anywhere." Ted stated. "Most of the statements lacked a destination."
If Ted ignored the legal issue of everything being by the books, then the money's disappearance was the biggest concern. Money just didn't disappear, it had to have gone somewhere or at least appeared elsewhere, yet no sign of it was recorded.
Ted hoped that he could find something, anything, a pattern or reason for each action to determine where the money went. If a pattern existed, then it would clearly identify at worst an associate to who was responsible.
Ted knew he was grasping at straws. It was a miracle the Goblins had relented to give him copies of the wizarding worlds yearly wealth statements, even if he was under a magical oath of confidence. But he needed something, anything to make sense of what was causing the potter account to suddenly lose money.
All money was transferred through proper channels as if the goblins did so on behest of Harry Potter himself and almost all of it would mysteriously vanish into thin air, as if transmuted into the papers before him themselves.
None of this made any sense, the patterns of withdraws made no sense. Irregular, spontaneous, but always within legal boundaries or right when a new law pertaining to its legality was made.
The money wasn't the only strange thing either. The disappearance of Potter properties made no sense to him either.
According the to Goblin records the Potter estates went into lockdown, and all records of them were scratched from official records except for the deeds locked away in the Family Vaults.
This was fine in and of itself, however it was done clearly above the books and was recorded as requested by the Potter Lord himself, a year before their deaths. Similarly, other important records also were destroyed within that short time. If Ted didn't know any better, he would have even believed that the Lord Potter knew that someone was after their wealth and went about hiding it.
"… Or maybe they were hiding something that they knew someone was after…" Ted whispered to himself.
After their deaths the inconsistencies grew more apparent like clockwork.
Harry Potter was separated from the wizarding world. The Potter family was, for all purposes, gone. Money was taken out and then suddenly put back before suddenly vanishing from the vaults. Investments were stopped just before said withdraws then replaced at a loss along with the money taken so no one spotted a difference.
None of it made sense. If someone was after their wealth, why go through the effort of putting it back before simply having it vanish. By all rights according to the papers, Mr. Potter was making money via interest and investments, yet the money was vanishing. Despite constant gains, the Potter account was vanishing.
Looking at his coffee Ted drank the bitter brew, lost in thought. Staring across from his desk he stared at the eyes of his wife who was now busy helping him organize the papers strewn about his desk.
It was Christmas and here he was spending time with his wife working while his daughter continued her own work at Hogwarts. What he wouldn't give for a nice family holiday.
He sighed as he looked down at the family photo on his desk. Tonks was aggravating her mother by rapidly changing her appearance in the frame. Her hair waving this way and that in the frame. Her chest was mockingly changing shape much to Andromeda's chagrin and his mirth. And her eyes where changing color from then usual dark brown to... blue?
It clicked.
Ted got up slightly as he looked at the documents. It wasn't so much a eureka moment as it was a simple asking of, "what if?".
Was it really that simple? It couldn't be. The man wouldn't. But if it was done legally it would naturally fit that the legal guardian was responsible if not somehow involved. James always had strong connections with the man, but what was the motive?
He always played his cards close to his chest. Even during the war.
…The war… how did Albus fund his support for the war? What about Hogwarts for that matter?
"Dear?" Andromeda asked cautiously, concern written across her face.
If Ted looked at himself, he would think he'd become a ghost. Pale faced and slightly sweaty he sat back down and took a sip of coffee to calm his nerves. Anxiously he cautiously asked, "Annie..."
Andromeda faced focused. Ted only called her that when he was worried, she'd flip out or felt he was guilty of something.
"This is only an if... but what if Dumbledore is responsible?"
Andromeda shot up, "Edward Tonks! Are you accusing Albus of committing fraud! That is the most absurd, outrageous. The man is a hero, he stopped one war and fought a second to a standstill. The man is..."
"I know dear," Ted interjected, "But still, hypothetically, is it possible if he had a reason, not a good or bad one mind you, just a motive, could he pull it off?"
Andromeda sat down looking at the notes before her. The Black family brain working its magic before him. She thought back to everything she had read so far, the last month as she helped him look over the case, making connections and speculations at blistering speeds. As if to reconfirm some stray thought she looked over a few pages that left a bit of an odd impression on her.
As she looked over the parchment, the whole question of if Albus could, was becoming more obvious. Rank, authority, magic and legal access. The man had the publicity for everyone to ignore him as being liable, magically he was one of twelve in the nation who could cast magic without a goblin noticing, he had a somewhat legal claim over the Heir Potter, and was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and would have enough sway and headway to pull off some, if not all, of what they speculated was happening. It still left the question of where and why but could was clearly becoming more and more plausible.
She looked up at Ted and walked over to him. He was beginning to sweat a little more under her intense gaze. Leaning done she gave him a hot kiss that took his breath away.
"It's possible." she said bluntly her eyes cold. "I don't like it, but it is possible and does seem to fit."
Leaning down she gave and a deeper kiss breaking past his lips. After she took his breath away, she pulled back and smiled sultrily.
"I knew there was a reason a married a smarty pants like you." Andromeda said grabbing her near empty coffee cup. Walking away with a sway in her hips she held his cup. "I'll get us a fresh pot. Let's not leave this bezoar unturned. I want my Christmas present tonight and that means making progress for Ragnuk today."
Ted watched her swaying hips wave goodbye as he relaxed in his chair. God, he loved that women. His face turning serious again he looked down at his work.
If his guess was right... no, if he was right than Gringotts was not going to be happy at all. It would be bad enough that someone of such notoriety was responsible but at worse his report could literally be used to scapegoat a wizard which he was certain would lead to another rebellion. Something he was sure the Goblins would love since treason within was such a hated idea. Something humans and goblins had in common he guessed.
Leaning back a bit Ted sighed to himself with a slight smile as his wife returned with a fresh cup of coffee for them both. At the very least if he worked hard, he would get his own Christmas present.
xXxXx
Sorry this one is a bit late, but I got it roughly how I wanted it to turn out. A heads up, one of you finally volunteered to beta and this fine man has delivered a beta version of Chapter 1. It will be posted first shortly followed by this chapter so if you have a critical eye sent me a shout of what you think. Is it better? Easier to read? Is it bad? If the latter either shut up or volunteer yourself. This fine gentleman has honored me with his talents and unlike the rest who remind me that my grammar sucks, which I already know is true, he volunteered to do something about it.
In any case, give me your honest reviews and I hope you look forward to Chapter 15. Six more chapter till the end of year one. Wish me luck.
Or at least that's what I would have said on September 16th when I was going to post this. Instead it is my displeasure to inform you all that I was in the hospital on that day and was just released today with my new trusty friend, Mr. O2 generator. Please forgive this late update.