Chapter 14 - The Resistance
"I don't understand what's happening to me," Harry said brokenly. Snape had been hugging him for several minutes already, and he was still struggling to get himself centered again. The older wizard cupped Harry's head and turned it, guiding him to press his cheek against his professor's robes. You've literally gone completely mental! He admonished himself. Snape was hugging him! Again! Maybe Snape is the one who's gone mental?
"It's quite simple, Mr. Potter," Severus responded in his kindest voice, which was coming rather easily with his intense desire to reassure young Harry Potter, "you've had enough."
"But I can't fall apart like this," Harry said.
"Of course you can, don't be silly," Severus contradicted. "To your credit you've lasted about thirty hours longer than I did. If you'll recall, I had to make an exit for the same reasons last evening."
"You fell apart like this?" Harry asked doubtfully.
"I've said all that I intend to on the matter."
Harry huffed lightly and allowed the comfort he was receiving to continue for a couple more minutes. When he pulled away and mopped his face, he felt slightly less embarrassed. And now he really, really wanted to get some sleep. Snape crossed his arms and contemplated him.
"I've a spare chamber in my quarters," the potions master was saying while Harry was envisaging having to deal with his curious housemates. "I could ask the elves to furnish it with a bed and fresh linens, if you'd care to spend the night there, so that you can be assured of privacy and quiet?"
Harry was quite surprised by this. He stared up at the professor he'd already ceased calling "the bat" in his thoughts and smiled a small smile. But, in spite of how much less hostility he felt in this wizard's presence, and how there was no current sensation of being trapped, Harry was guarded, as well he should be. After a solid four and a half years of sneering disdain being directed his way by Professor Snape, there was no way in hell that he was going to confine himself in Snape's domain, and with no escape route! Even still, he had a strong sense of the depth of the commitment Snape was making to protect his well-being.
"Uhm, er…" he hesitated to be direct, but then recalled the promise he'd made to himself to be his best self at all times. "Sir, things have changed very quickly between us, and I'm really glad of that, but I'm not used to having people watch out for me this much. I don't want to be worrying that the way we're faring now could suddenly shift and go pear-shaped. Especially if I was in the dungeons when it happens."
Severus pondered The Boy Who Lived for a moment while he weighed the merits of pressuring this stubborn teenager into taking his further advice to stay clear of his peers for a while yet. "Are you confident that you'll be allowed to sleep when you return to your dorm?" he asked doubtfully.
Harry checked his watch. It was half ten. The Common Room should be empty now, but he imagined at least a few of his friends would be waiting up to see what had become of him. "I was thinking I'd ask the Room of Requirement for a nice bed."
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The others had remained in the kitchen and had broken out the firewhiskey while they waited for Severus to return. Lucius was maintaining a grim silence, not particularly keen to face the fact that he'd once again traumatized Harry Potter. He sipped at the dose of the amber alcohol Minerva had poured for him, but the edge of regret was not relieved.
There was a clattering and a crash from somewhere upstairs, and the angry screeching of Mrs. Black's portrait was reignited. "Bloody hell," Remus growled. "That can't be Severus, back already," he said as he got up. "I'll shut the portrait up, and see who's up there while I'm at it." But he already knew who it was.
"I imagine Mundungus must be paying us a visit," Albus surmised as Remus headed up to the first floor.
"Albus, perhaps you can do something about that godforsaken portrait?" Minerva suggested. "Now that Harry is in ownership of this house, wouldn't the magic have weakened?"
Albus smiled mildly at Minerva as Kreacher came into his peripheral view. "We will definitely need Master Harry's permission to remove anything from this house," he turned to look at the gnarled old elf who was glaring at them all with open hostility, "as I'm sure Kreacher would agree."
Remus came back down the stairs at a brisk clip. "I believe it was Mundungus, but he'd already floo'd away by the time I reached the parlor," he informed them all with an annoyed frown. "Albus, he does realize that this house, and its contents, are not for him to pillage, doesn't he?"
Albus winked at the scowling Kreacher as he answered Remus, "I will remind him."
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Since they could not floo into the ROR, without first knowing for certain that a fireplace had been manifested within, Severus had insisted on escorting Harry through the corridors of the castle to his destination. The boy had asked for a cozy enough setting that had sofas and a fireplace again. Severus had handed him Dreamless Sleep, saying with great authority, "You'd be wise to go to bed immediately." And, because he enjoyed pushing Harry Potter's buttons, added, "I thought you were going to ask for a decent bed?"
"I will. I want a quick shower before bed," Harry said, nodding towards a door which bore an elegantly scripted sign marking it as The Shower. Harry turned his head back, giving Severus a look to suggest he should leave the teen with privacy to attend to his own needs. Harry also boldly requested, "You'll tell me everything that's discussed tonight? Especially anything about horcruxes?" Snape inclined his head in a way that acknowledged the request but might have suggested Harry was pushing his luck, but Harry ignored that. Finally, he added, "I do want Mr. Malfoy to fix my eyes. Will you tell him?"
Now Severus nodded. "Summon him when you're ready. And as for tomorrow, I have a free period at one o'clock. I will see you here at that time." He might have expected a bit of attitude, at this point, from this boy, but certainly not the look of excited anticipation that he received. Glutton for punishment, this one, he thought and was certain the smirk on his face relayed these thoughts. But the boy was unperturbed. "Oh, and whatever interior orientation you create in here, always make sure there's a fireplace. The others and I will likely travel here via floo to avoid questioning from the new Liaison to the Ministry." He gave Harry a narrow-eyed look. "You'd do best to avoid him at all costs."
"Alright," Harry said warily.
Finally satisfied, Severus left young Harry Potter to his own devices as he exited through the fireplace, first floo'ing back to the Headmistress' office, and then back to Headquarters.
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Lucius watched Severus reenter the kitchen with a look of grim anticipation. "He's fine, Lucius, just overwrought," Severus told his friend quietly. "You should reach out to him late morning tomorrow. I'm quite certain he'll receive you without hesitation."
"I'll see if he wants to spend some time with me immediately following my last class tomorrow," Remus added. He looked at Severus, "You'll have a session with him as well?" When Severus nodded, he looked at Lucius. "Harry will likely be open to any spell work you offer to teach him."
"I've heard that you taught him how to conjure his Patronus when he was thirteen," Lucius remarked to Remus. "That's quite impressive. How did you go about it?" He had a particular spell in mind for Harry that he'd also like to teach Draco.
"Just break things into measured, successive steps," Remus said. He smiled mildly, "And be ready with a lot of patience, and give lavish praise. But only if you can be genuine about it. Harry's no fool."
"I also believe Harry should be encouraged to continue his defense club with his peers," Albus added. "With Mr. Thicknesse wandering the castle, the students will have to use the same precautions that they've employed previously."
"I told him to expect us to arrive in the Room of Requirement by floo," Severus informed them, thinking about the following day's plan.
Remus nodded. "Perhaps we should conclude the day with a short session of dueling? A means to demonstrate how he might work with his classmates?"
"Gentlemen," Minerva inserted in exasperation, "Did I not just tell Potter to get extra rest for the remainder of this week?"
"We will be mindful of that," Severus said with a small smile for the older witch. He could see that she was stretched thin at this point, likely from anticipation of dealing with yet another Ministry official on campus. Thicknesse would be a whole new kind of test of her nerves and endurance. But the delays in granting Albus an audience with the Wizengamot were most worrying of all. Severus himself was consciously suppressing a rising panic about the dangers that could threaten the unsuspecting student body. "I normally would disparage such intentions, Albus, but in this case, I agree that as many students as possible should be introduced to basic self defense. Potter's club is the perfect medium to supplement Lupin's curriculum."
"We need to be better informed of how to deal with these horcruxes that the Dark Lord has planted hither and yon," Lucius commented. He looked at Albus. "I believe I already know what to expect from the object in question."
"Indeed, you do," Albus agreed. "I've been giving the matter a lot of consideration, but other than Harry's scar and Tom's familiar, the only other horcrux I've identified is that Diary."
Lucius' complexion had paled at this confirmation, in spite of his inner knowing of the truth. "Then we are at a serious disadvantage. I can only reflect in hindsight on how much that diary affected my behavior. I had no other indication of its magical influences in the moment."
"Harry's scar will cause him pain when one is in the vicinity," Albus pointed out. "He will help us navigate, to some extent. We now know that Madam LeStrange is in possession of one."
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Harry slept like the dead until about half nine on Wednesday morning. He got up, asked for breakfast and got Dobby to bring him some clothes. He thought about how Mrs. Weasley would be getting him new things and felt less annoyed at donning some of Dudley's too-big jeans with the belt cinched. In a few days he could throw all of Dudley's rags away. He next donned his jumper. It was a new Weasley one, added to the mix of things Dobby had delivered. This one was a deep forest green with a charcoal grey "H" knitted in. Mrs. Weasley must have sent it last night. He loved it.
Now he felt very strange to not have checked in with Ron and Hermione. The last they'd known of him was when he was rushing off with Remus and the others to stand before the Ministry, only to be the one of the featured criminals in last night's Late Edition of the Daily Prophet! He quickly wrote out notes for his two friends, and wondered how he could send them….
"Hedwig!" he called out, happy to see his familiar, but a bit disturbed to see her fly out of the fireplace! She circled the room as if she was assessing it on Harry's behalf. When she finally landed on his shoulder with a happy hoot, he nearly burst into tears. "I'm so glad to see you! How did you know I needed you?"
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Harry had just dispatched Hedwig with his letters for his friends when he received a message through the galleon, meant only for him, from Malfoy Sr.
How are you ...this morning, Harry? the message appeared incrementally.
Better, thanks. I'd really like your help with my eyes when you have time, Harry responded through his own coin.
My very important position ...at this school actually ...affords me quite a lot ...of spare time. ...I'll see you shortly.
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Malfoy Sr. sat in front of Harry, waving his wand in an intricate pattern just within Harry's peripheral vision. He had to perform the charm four times to complete a series, but each time he finished one in succession, Harry could see more and more clearly.
Again, Harry had to battle his emotions. This was a huge improvement, and it removed a major handicap for him when it came to protecting himself. "Mr. Malfoy..." Harry tried, but his throat closed on him.
"I quite meant it when I told you I wanted to atone, young man," Malfoy said to him gruffly. "And when it's just us, please call me Lucius, alright?"
Harry had to duck his head to hide how gobsmacked he was by this gesture. Call him Lucius? He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, but his voice was still very strained and he was unable to meet Malfoy's eyes when he finally said, "This is life-changing, sir. Thank you."
Malfoy had squeezed his shoulder in response, but they'd both sat silently for several minutes, unable to face each other, until finally Lucius had said, "Might I also be of some help to you with some spellwork, Harry?"
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Thirty minutes of focused casting had already passed, and Harry now understood the principles behind the kind of healing spell that closes up a cut. It was a simple binding spell, but finessed through the wand to be far more precise.
"Snape used this on my cheek last Friday night," Harry commented. "And this is a great spell to practice with altering the intensity of my magic as I cast." When Lucius met this comment with eyebrows raised in inquiry, Harry went ahead and told him about his learning experience through the lens of Voldemort's firsthand perception while Snape had been tortured.
"Did you tell any of this to Severus?" Lucius had asked derisively, already knowing how his friend would have received the information.
"Yeah," Harry said. "We were having a positive moment, so I took advantage."
"Let's practice some variations on disarming spells, shall we?" Lucius had directed as they each backed up thirty paces in the rapidly enlarging space.
They were both startled by a loud POP followed by the gnarled appearance of Kreacher in the open space between Harry and Lucius.
The elf was hysterical, exclaiming, "Young Master must stop him! He must!" He covered his face and bawled loudly into his large, knobby elf hands.
"Kreacher? What are you talking about?" Harry flashed a look at Malfoy and rushed over to drop on his knees in front of the distraught elf. "What's happened?" His heart was pounding in fear, but he couldn't imagine what in the world could be going on.
Kreacher raised his head and said in a raw voice, between hitching breaths, "Mun- …dungus …Fletcher."
"I don't understand, Kreacher," Harry persisted. "Is Fletcher hurt?"
"He is a thief," Kreacher declared. He glared at Harry now, boldly challenging him to do something.
"What's he taken?" Harry asked, suddenly angry. "Has he taken things from the house?" When the elf nodded, Harry said. "He's got no right! Kreacher, can you bring him here? and all that he's taken?"
The elf's face relaxed into a level of coldness that perhaps was his expression when he was relieved? Harry had no idea, but he stood up when Kreacher nodded and POPPED violently out of the ROR.
"This should be interesting," Lucius said. He moved his messenger coin from his pocket and palmed his wand, pausing before putting a message to the others. "You handled him quite well, just then, young man. He's already respecting your authority, and he will trust you now. Well done."
Harry frowned at that, not sure whether to take it as praise, since Lucius was telling him he'd done a good job of manipulating Kreacher. POP! This time, Kreacher appeared with a large burlap sack that clanged and banged like it was full of pots and pans.
"Kreacher scared him, and the thief disapparated away. Kreacher came back to Young Master to sort the things. The item is more important."
Harry dropped down beside the sack again and nodded at Kreacher to go ahead and begin to separate out the things in the bag. It contained an odd assortment of trophies, jewelry, chess pieces, runes, and even an old cauldron. At some point while the elf was sorting through everything, and by now it was clear that he was seeking something in particular, Harry was registering a loud ringing in his ears that was quite annoying. He felt cross and put off, and suddenly really could care less about the all of this junk, and nearly said so… but then he noticed that his scar was burning - not enough to complain out loud, but the way it had done in first year when Professor Quirrell was across the Great Hall. He shot an alarmed look up at Lucius and saw that the older wizard had shifted into a similar mood to Harry's, one that was way too familiar, and it made Harry bristle. Wonderful.
"Something's wrong," Harry said, his eyes were on Lucius, but he meant for Kreacher to hear him too. "Kreacher, there's something very dark, and very evil in that pile of things."
Kreacher stopped sorting when he found what he was searching for. It was a locket. He had a very odd expression on his face as he held it out to Harry. When Harry put his hand near it, he had a burst of a vision - as if he'd Legilimized the locket - a scene of a young, dark haired man, begging Kreacher to see if he could open the locket.
Harry recoiled, and dropped his hand. "Do you intend me harm, Kreacher?"
The elf stopped himself and looked confused. He dropped the locket and stared downward for a moment, seemingly collecting himself. Then, he snapped his fingers. A small, but heavy, lead box appeared on the floor beside the piece of jewelry. Kreacher wandlessly removed the lid to the box, levitated the locket over it, dropped the locket inside, and closed and sealed the box. He looked up at Harry assessingly.
"Did you know, Kreacher? about my scar, and that I can sense Lord Voldemort's magic?" Harry asked the elf.
"Kreacher listened to the discussion in the kitchen last night, after Young Master left in hysterics."
"I wouldn't call it hysterics, exactly-"
"Kreacher has kept this locket since it killed his young Master Regulus. It has very, very powerful evil. Kreacher has waited to pass it to someone who will make sure it cannot hurt anyone else."
"So, it's too powerful for you to destroy?" Lucius asked. He'd stepped closer and now dropped down to one knee so that he was almost eye level with the elf. "I imagine it must be, if you haven't destroyed it yet?" He looked at Harry. "Elven magic is extraordinarily powerful. I was rather hoping we could enlist it," he said, but now he turned back to Kreacher. "But not at the expense of your safety, Kreacher."
"Kreacher cannot destroy it," the elf began to weep. "Young Master Regulus begged Kreacher to help him! …Kreacher tried and tried, …but it could not be done."
"How did it kill Regulus Black?" Harry was connecting dots in his mind to signs he'd seen that there had been another son in the Black family, but had never asked Sirius about him. The tragedy of the Black family was not lost on Harry at all.
The elf huffed and sputtered words between heaving sobs. "Master Regulus… tried to put a- …fake locket… where it had been stored- …in a place protected by un- …imaginable black sorcery. …A trap had been set, and a curse was released- …Kreacher was heartbroken. His Mistress was never the same."
Harry wanted to do something to reward the elf for seeking him out. "Where have you kept the locket, all this time?" he asked. Ah, yes! He remembered now: Ron complaining about Kreacher's nasty nest, and how there'd been bits and bobs of random things in there. Harry felt sorry for the elf. No wonder he was so awful. "It's likely made your misery that much worse, with all of that power, hasn't it? And, all this time, you've been very loyal and brave to protect us from its evil, Kreacher." The elf raised wary eyes to Harry. "You should find something to keep with you instead, shouldn't you? Something nice, that reminds you of good times." But as he said it, he could already sense the elf's disappointment.
"Borgin and Burkes carries a replica of that locket," Lucius relayed. "It's Salazar Slytherin's locket, Harry." He looked at the elf, who was nodding. "I'll dispatch an owl and have one sent to the house for you, Kreacher, straight away."
"That's brilliant," Harry said carefully. "Would that be a nice present, Kreacher?"
"Kreacher is grateful," the elf said, and the tears suddenly turned off. He snapped his fingers and all of the items except the locket in the lead box returned to the sack. "Kreacher bids you good day." POP!
"What just happened?" Harry asked, feeling quite as though he'd been completely played with by that old elf.
"We've just literally been handed one of the horcruxes," Lucius told him.
