HARRY POTTER
AND THE DEATH EATER MENACE
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
CHAPTER 18: The Persistence of Memory
4 September 1993
4:15 a.m.
Hogwarts
Luna Lovegood made not a sound as she made her way through the empty darkened hallways of Hogwarts. This was true even through she made no efforts towards stealth and even casually talked aloud to herself as she explored the castle in her own unique way: as part of a dream. She smiled as she considered the paradox.
"Am I truly soundless?" she asked herself as she floated past the doors leading to the Great Hall. "Simply because no one else can hear me while I'm dreaming? If an astral tree falls in an astral wood, does it make no sound just because no one around can hear it?" She shrugged and floated along.
To her, every night seemed a new adventure as she surveyed the castle in her dreaming form. Literally so, for she rarely remembered anything but the most important details from night to night and virtually nothing by day, despite her recent efforts to master lucid dreaming from the book Hermione had gotten her over the summer. Each night, as her dream body– her heliopathic self, she suspected – roamed the castle, she experienced a near-continuous state of deja vu.
"Or maybe it's the opposite of that," she said thoughtfully. "What's the opposite of deja vu again? Jamais vu? The feeling that something is unfamiliar even though you've seen it many times? I wonder how many times I've explored the castle from top to bottom and forgotten it all when I woke up the next morning."
She shrugged again in response to the question she'd posed to herself and continued her explorations. Tonight's journey took her near the office and rooms of the new caretaker Mr. Sturgeon. Now there was an interesting specimen, so interesting that she had to fight down the impulse to pass through the door into his room (for no physical barrier in Hogwarts had barred her so far ... that she recalled anyway) and see what his nargles and wrackspurts looked when he was unguarded in his sleep.
"No," she lectured herself sternly. "It would be improper if not indecent to spy on one of the staff in their sleep. Why, he might not even be wearing clothes!" She giggled for a second but then schooled herself into a more dignified expression. Having come to grips with the fact that she was not, in fact, delusional (a fear that had plagued her for many years), the young heliopath now endeavored to appear less odd to others. She only talked about fury-flies and wrackspurts and the like to people who truly understood what she meant, but she was still working to break bad habits like reading books upside down just provoke bafflement in others because she found the nargles produced by such harmless confusions to be remarkably pretty. She assumed giggling aloud over things that only she could perceive was another such bad habit.
In any case, she knew she had nothing to fear from Malachi Sturgeon, no matter how grumpy and surly he pretended to be. She was still learning the rules for what heliopathy could tell her about the people of the physical world, but she knew perfectly well when someone was faking ill-temper. Fury-flies were, understandably, the first astral creature she learned to identify if not fully comprehend as they were the ones most dangerous to ignore. But there was no true anger in Mr. Sturgeon's snarling, only a quiet amusement and beneath that a strange persistent sadness. Oh, he had his secrets and kept them well (and Luna suspected he kept some secrets so well, he didn't even know them himself), but she was certain there was no malice in him. If nothing else, it was clear that Sturgeon and Jim Potter had a genuine fondness for one another though they sought to conceal it from everyone else for whatever reason they thought important.
Luna continued on her nightly trek through the castle's corridors until she eventually came to the staircase that led down to the Slytherin dungeons. She froze and gave out a soft gasp. For suddenly, her sense of deja vu (or jamai vu, perhaps?) was tinged with a sensation not just of familiarity but dread. Carefully, she edged forward and made her way down into the dungeons.
Several minutes later, Luna shot up in her bed gasping for air as if awakening from a terrible nightmare. Quickly, she jumped out of bed and started fumbling through her bag in the dark in search of parchment and a quill.
"Luna?" said Betsy, one of her dorm-mates, in a sleepy voice. "What are you doing?"
Distracted, Luna looked up at her fellow Second Year but then paused with her mouth still open before looking down at the parchment in her hands in confusion. The young girl exhaled loudly in exasperation before closing her bag and climbing back into bed. "I don't know, Betsy. But whatever it was, it's getting annoying."
5 September 1993
Slytherin Quidditch tryouts
Despite Harry's initial concerns, Quiddich tryouts went relatively smoothly. He and team captain Adrian Pucey would remain as Chasers and would be rejoined by Fourth Year Graham Montague, who was a little standoffish towards Harry but not intolerably so. He wasn't as good as Flint had been, but he seemed capable of adapting well enough to the offensive scheme Harry and Adrian had devised. Miles Bletchley was returning Keeper, and while not as resilient as Oliver Wood, he was much better than the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Keepers. Both Beater spots were open and had been filled by Gregory Goyle and, to everyone's surprise, by Millicent Bulstrode. To everyone's even greater surprise, Ginny Weasley decisively claimed the Seeker's position, handily beating out the fuming Cassius Warrington and the other contenders. Privately, Harry had expected her to win the spot, but even he was impressed when Ginny did better in her tryout than Draco had done in his the year before, though of course that was no guarantee of performance in an actual game.
Harry had been worried that Warrington's bigotries would cause dissension, as both Montague and Bletchley were friends of his and both of them also seemed somewhat scandalized by the presence of two females on the team for the first time in twenty years. Unfortunately for Warrington, he'd gotten as far as complaining loudly about not getting picked –
"Damned if Slytherin House hasn't gone to the dogs
with Halfbloods and blood traitors representing us in Quidditch.
It'll be Mudbloods on the team next!"
– when he felt a firm hand grasp him by the right shoulder and spin him around violently. He barely had a second to realize it was Millicent Bulstrode who had manhandled him before the girl took a step forward and brought her knee up forcefully into his crotch.
As the boy crumpled to the ground with a whimper that caused all other boys present to wince in sympathy, Millicent just looked down on him with disdain. "Sometimes, Muggle ways are better, I think," she said before heading off with Ginny for the girls' locker rooms without so much as a backwards glance.
8 September 1993
Gryffindor Tower
11:00 p.m.
An exhausted Jim made it back to Gryffindor Tower just before curfew and headed up straight to bed after his three-hour-long session with Mr. Sturgeon. Up in the Third Year boys' dorm room, Ron was the only one waiting for him.
"So, how was detention?" he asked casually.
"Oh, fine," Jim said evasively.
"You look tired. And pretty much drenched with sweat. What did he have you doing all this time?"
"Uh, polishing trophies. And some ... mopping."
Ron snorted but there was no humor in it. In fact, Jim thought his best friend was angry about something. "You're that sweaty from just mopping and polishing?" Ron asked. "And while we're on the topic of working up a sweat – except for running in the morning, we haven't had time for any sparring or kata practice. You don't want to get out of practice, do you?"
"Of ... of course not," Jim replied. "It's just been hard to find time."
Ron sighed and shook his head. "Jim, I don't understand why you're lying to me about this. I know you've spent the last three hours doing martial arts training during your 'detention.'"
He made air-quotes around the last word. Jim swallowed nervously.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he exclaimed.
"Come on, Jim. I'm not the only one to have noticed. Padma asked me about it the other day, but I put her off. But she's way too clever not to figure it out assuming she hasn't already."
"Figure what out?" Jim said defensively. Ron began to grow indignant.
"Look, Jim, I'm dyslexic, not blind! I took me a while to recognize him at first, but just because he changed his clothes, let his hair and beard grow out, and started acting like a git, it doesn't mean I don't know perfectly well who Mr. Sturgeon really is!"
Jim did a double-take. "Ron knows Remus's true identity? How did he break through the Fidelius?"
"And who do you think Mr. Sturgeon, Ron?" he asked cautiously.
Ron shook his head in genuine anger at Jim's misdirections. "Oh come on! It's obvious! He's Brother Chandra!"
Jim opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again with a surprised pop as he realized the significance of his best friend's remark.
"Huh," he finally said.
The next morning in the Headmaster's Office...
"So let me see if I understand the problem," Dumbledore said before popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth. "The secret we have put much effort into protecting with the Fidelius Charm that required six days of preparation time before casting states that 'Malachi Sturgeon is actually the werewolf Remus Lupin.' However, while residing in Shamballa, you adopted a new identity as 'Brother Chandra' which is not protected by the Fidelius."
"So it appears, Headmaster," Remus said with some resignation. "I suppose I should have mentioned that before you cast the spell, but it didn't occur to me that it would be relevant."
"It does raise some interesting questions." Dumbledore turned to Jim who was in the chair next to Lupin. "Did Ronald know that Brother Chandra's real name was Remus Lupin?"
"He did back in Shamballa," Jim answered. "But I don't think he remembers it now."
"Should we recast the Fidelius?" Lupin asked. Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head.
"No, I think not. At least not yet. Aside from the difficulty in dismissing and then recasting the spell, this may well provide us with a useful opportunity. Using a Fidelius in this manner is an innovative technique which we have adopted from the tactics of our enemy. This might present a chance to study that tactic and get a better feel for the spell's limitations if it turns out that he's employed it on other occasions."
"Who has?" Remus asked in confusion. "What enemy are we talking about?"
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak but was surprised to find himself unable to do so. He coughed in mild embarrassment and turned to the Boy-Who-Lived. "Er, Jim, would you be so good as to reveal to Remus the secret you learned last spring from a certain diary? I find I cannot answer any of Remus's questions about Tom Riddle until you have done so."
Jim furrowed his brow in confusion at first. "Eh? Oh, right! Um, Tom Riddle is actually the dark wizard called Lord Voldemort. Or words to that effect."
Remus looked back and forth between the two. "Who's Tom Riddle?"
"As Jim just related, Tom Riddle is Voldemort's true identity. Tom was – and is – a Halfblood, the offspring of a Muggle and a squib, a fact that he concealed from his own followers through the same innovative use of the Fidelius that we have employed on your behalf. Jim and Harry learned the secret before the prior Secret Keeper was destroyed, and so both of them became the new Secret Keepers of Voldemort's hidden background, though we are still keeping that truth under wraps at the moment for ... well, for tedious political reasons. Anyway, it is possible that he has used the Fidelius to conceal other things, though he would need other wizards or witches to assist him. Perhaps by studying the thought processes of people who knew you under another identity besides 'Remus Lupin,' we can gain insights into how Tom has been using this spell over the years."
The Headmaster paused thoughtfully for a moment. "While we're on the subject, do you perchance have any other names we should know about?"
Remus grimaced. "James and Peter used to call me ... Moony. It was Sirius whom came up with it because ... well, you know."
"Ah," Dumbledore said as if his sherbet lemon had suddenly turned sour. "How very droll. I shall have to make arrangements for James and Peter to visit the school and interact with you in your Malachi Sturgeon persona to see how they react. Obviously, no such arrangements will be made for Mr. Black."
Then, Jim spoke up. "Harry knows that Remus Lupin and Brother Chandra are the same person. I wrote him last summer. But they've never met, and I haven't talked with him about Mr. Sturgeon."
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Jim, you may reveal to both Mr. Weasley and Miss Patil that Mr. Sturgeon is actually your former martial arts instructor Brother Chandra, who has come to Hogwarts in secret to help protect you from Sirius Black, which is technically true. And I suppose, Remus, that you are authorized to teach those three students in your martial arts techniques, assuming Mr. Weasley and Miss Patil will also wish to resume their training. I must confess that I'm somewhat interested in seeing Wu Xi Do in action. I was aware of it, but my travels never took me to Magical Asia."
"Can we also reveal the full secret to Harry?" Remus asked hopefully.
Dumbledore looked thoughtful once more. "Bring him to me later today between classes. I will at least tell him part of the secret. I am curious to see whether he can figure out the rest."
History of Magic
11:30 a.m.
Unlike the majority of the Gryffindor-Slytherin History of Magic class (about half of whom were literally asleep in their desks), Harry Potter gave every appearance of being completely attentive. Of course, where Slytherins were concerned, appearances were often deceptive. In the next chair, Blaise Zabini, while stifling a yawn, took a sudden interest in his friend's attentiveness and leaned over to read the notes he was taking. To his surprise, Harry had drawn a line down the middle of the page. On the right side, he was taking casual notes about Professor Binns' excruciatingly boring speech about goblin revolts in the 9th century. On the left side, he was solving Arithmancy problems. Finally, Harry noticed the observation.
"What?" he asked.
Blaise leaned in more closely. "Are you Occluding right now?" he asked quietly and with some disapproval.
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, you caught me. I'm listening to Binns' droning while reviewing the highlights of my memories from yesterday's Arithmancy class. Turns out Binns isn't quite so boring when you only have to devote part of your brain to him." Then, he noticed Blaise's expression. "Is that a problem?"
Blaise glanced around to see who was listening and then hissed a response. "A problem? That you're running parallel thought-streams in class out of sheer boredom? Why should that be a problem? It's not like having two competing thought patterns is a good way to develop multiple personalities or anything."
"Three," Harry answered with a smirk. "One to take History notes. One to review Arithmancy. And one to wonder why the Headmaster wants to speak to me in his office later."
Blaise was surprised by that. "What does Dumbledore want?" he asked rather suspiciously.
"I dunno. That's why I trifurcated my mind to consider the matter, but I haven't figured it out yet. All I know is a prefect delivered the message while I was on my way to class. The Headmaster wanted to see me at the start of the lunch hour. Oh, and the password is Zagnuts, which is funny, disturbing, or both. By the way, is trifurcated a word?"
"I'm afraid to answer for fear you might try quadrifurcating next."
"Blaise, relax. I'm know the risks. And Snape's already assigned me a fake detention this Friday to go over my Occlumency and Legilimency progress. I'm sure if I show any signs of mental damage, he'll notice and take care of it."
"Fine. Just don't start talking to yourself or anything."
Harry snorted. "Why not? That might be the only way to get intelligent conversation around here."
Both boys chuckled softly at Harry's quip. And neither of them noticed their friend Hermione Granger in the back corner of the room, blissfully napping through the lecture.
Later in Gryffindor Tower...
Fred Weasley and Lee Jordan were in the Common Room about to head to lunch when George and Percy found them.
"And what do you call this then?" George asked of his twin with surprising anger. "This," at the moment, referred to Colin Creevey who stood between the two Weasley prefects covered head to toe in bright yellow canary feathers.
Fred laughed. "I call it comedy gold, Brothers Mine! How are you feeling, Colin? No side effects? You haven't laid an egg or anything?"
"Nope," Colin answered cheerfully. "Well, it's a little itchy. Also, I have double-vision and feel a little nauseous. This is gonna wear off before I have to go to class this afternoon, isn't it? I have Potions next, and I don't think Snape will find it very funny."
"Professor Snape," Percy corrected absent-mindedly.
"Oh, it should wear off pretty soon, Colin m'boy." Fred frowned at the looks George and Percy were giving him. "Well, probably. If you haven't molted in an hour, we'll take you to the infirmary. On the bright side, if that happens, you'll get to skip Potions entirely! So let's stay optimistic!"
Colin's smile abruptly vanished to be replaced by a nervous grimace, while the glares directed towards Fred and Lee intensified.
"I cannot believe you gave a Canary Creme to a Second Year," George hissed. "You know we weren't planning on live testing until next summer!
At that, Percy did a double take. "Eh? What exactly does live testing mean?" He asked cautiously.
"Pretty sure it means you and me, Percy," Ron said with a laugh from across the room. He and Jim headed over to join the conversation. Meanwhile, the elder brother looked back and forth between the Twins in disappointment. George blushed. Fred smirked.
"I'd had hopes that with George becoming prefect, it might be a sign that you two were finally maturing ," Percy said ruefully. "It appears that was wishful thinking."
"Don't go blaming me, Percy," George said indignantly. "I had nothing to do with this. And even last summer when we were working on Canary Creams, I said it would be another year before it was ready." He gestured towards poor Colin, who suddenly hiccuped and burped out a few small feathers. "And I was right! He just got sick and sprouted feathers! He didn't turn into a bird at all!"
"Was that what I was supposed to do?" Colin asked excitedly.
Percy pinched his brow. "You actually volunteered to eat one of Fred's confectionary nightmares, and you didn't even ask what it did?!"
"Well, Fred and Lee called it a Canary Cream," the boy answered. "It sounded harmless."
"Yeah," George said sarcastically. "Except for the part where it was untested and didn't do what it was supposed to."
"How does Canary Cream sound harmless?" Jim asked in surprise. "Honestly, the name would imply that it's, I dunno, a creamed canary or something like that." Even Ron looked sickened at that description.
Meanwhile, Fred ignored Jim's question in favor of snarling at his twin. "You turning into a right Percy, you know that?"
"You do know I'm right here, don't you?" Percy answered. "Jim, would you do me a favor and escort Mr. Creevey to the Infirmary before he takes wing or something?"
"What about me?" Ron asked in surprise.
"I was hoping you'd stay here and help us yell at your brother for a while. Make it unanimous as it were."
"Oh no." Ron held up his hands defensively. "I'm way too young and immature for that. I'll help get Colin to Madam Pomfrey."
"Honestly, you lot," Fred said as if affronted. "The Canary Cream is perfectly harmless joke product. Just like everything else we've ever produced."
"A-hem!" At Fred's remark, Ron turned back towards him, stuck his tongue out, and pointed to the spot where a hole had been burned through it years before after the Twins had experimented on a normally harmless Acid Pop to "give it more kick." George winced again while Fred just rolled his eyes. Ron and Jim left with Colin.
"Anyway, Forge, if you were still helping me instead of prefecting around all day, maybe I'd have the creams working properly."
"Helping you?' George said incredulously. "And here I thought we were a partnership, Gred. I had no idea you were the brains all this time and I was just your helper."
"Boys," Percy interrupted, "we're getting a bit off track." But both twins ignored him.
"We were partners before you decided you were Percy Mark II, Mr. I'm Gonna Test Into Ancient Runes. Don't blame me because you broke up the team so you could pretend to be a Ravenclaw."
"Now Fred," said Percy. "That's hardly fair..."
"YOU LEFT ME!" George yelled in a fury, startling the room. "You were the one who decided to throw his future away on a stupid pointless gesture to save me when I didn't even need saving! You left me ALONE for the first time in our lives! So don't you go blaming me when I decided to make something of myself once you were gone!"
"Um, George?" said Percy.
"I KNEW IT!" Fred bellowed as he jumped out of his chair. "You DO think you're better than me!"
"Fred, that's ... that's not what George meant," stammered Percy with some alarm.
"The HELL it wasn't!" George said as he took a step forward to get into his twin's face. "I have been stuck to you like used chewing gum our whole lives. And the first time you're not around, I suddenly get my life on track and have teachers treating me with respect. So yeah, Fred. I'm really starting to think I am better than you. Because at least I'm willing to try to be something other than a merry prankster who terrorizes not just his House-mates but his own family!"
By this point, Percy was completely speechless. He had never even heard of the Twins arguing at all, let alone witness any confrontations like this. He feared they were about to come to blows.
"You are so full of it," Fred growled. "I could out-do you in any class if I had half a mind to, and you know it."
"I'll agree you've got half a mind, Freddikins!" George answered as his face grew as red as his hair. "You really think you could out-do me? Well put up or shut up!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"This is our OWL year, Brother-of-Mine," George said with an actual sneer. "You think you're better than me? I'll tell you what. You beat me on our OWLs in any class we share, and I'll drop Ancient Runes and resign as prefect. McGonagall can get someone else to do it next year. Maybe even you if you can back up all that big talk for once."
"YOU'RE ON!
"GOOD!"
With that, the Weasley Twins angrily parted in opposite directions, George out of the tower and Fred up to his room. Percy looked around the Common Room wildly, taking in the faces of all the other Gryffindors who were as shocked by the scene as he had been.
"What the hell just happened?" he said dazedly.
The Headmaster's Office
Near the end of the lunch hour
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully. "Thank you for coming. Please take a seat."
"My pleasure, sir," Harry said easily as he took the empty chair between Jim and Malachi Sturgeon.
Still hidden (after a fashion) by the Fidelius, Remus took a moment to study the boy who many years before he'd offered to take in to raise as his own. He'd seen Harry from a distance, but this was the first time he'd truly been able to observe him, and the boy's appearance was striking, mainly in how he differed from Jim despite them being identical twins. True, Harry was noticeably smaller than Jim, though apparently not nearly as much as when he'd started Hogwarts. Nevertheless, Remus knew he'd never mistake one for the other, and not just for the difference in House colors. While Jim was a bit hyperactive and still somewhat gangly despite his months of Wu Xi Do practice, Harry moved with remarkable grace for a thirteen-year-old and appeared completely calm and composed despite having been summoned unexpectedly to the Headmaster's office. Likewise, Jim's unruly hair and wire-rim glasses were nearly identical to his father's, while Harry's coif was flawless and his fashionable black-rimmed glasses somehow heightened the fierce intelligence that Remus could see in the boy's bright green eyes. He suddenly wondered if Harry was as heavily water-aspected as Jim had been fire-aspected months earlier.
"Strange," he thought to himself. "Both the twins have green eyes like Lily's, and yet they seem different somehow." And then, suddenly, Remus understood – Jim's eyes were the same sparkling emerald green as Lily's were when she was laughing, while Harry's were more like the flashing vivid green of Lily's eyes when she was furious. He filed that away for future thought.
The Headmaster continued. "I have asked you here, Harry, to give you some confidential information and also to ask for your assistance with what I think can best be described as a magical experiment."
Harry crooked an eyebrow, and in response, Remus tilted his head as he continued to study the boy. With that mannerism, Harry looked even more like his mother– whether the boy knew it or not, he was now imitating Lily's infamous "dubious mistrust" expression.
"... certainly, Headmaster," Harry said with a smile. "I'm at your service."
Dumbledore nodded. "Good. Let me begin with a re-introduction. The man to your right, who I've previously introduced as Malachi Sturgeon, is actually Remus Lupin, a former Hogwarts student who was also a longtime friend of your family's."
Harry looked at Remus with some surprise. He knew that Jim had been studying in Shamballa under the man (and also that he and Jim had both been named after him after a fashion), but Harry had never seen a picture of him before. He wondered if Remus's presence was somehow connected with the Azkaban breakout. Then, the boy sighed internally. "Of course, it was related to Azkaban – Sirius Black, Lupin's former co-Marauder turned supposed traitor, was on the loose. Perhaps that explains why the man seems so ... twitchy."
And Remus was indeed clearly anxious and ill at ease, though Harry was the only person in the room unaware that it actually due to the effects the impending full moon which was only two nights away.
"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Lupin," Harry said aloud with a diplomatic smile.
"Likewise, Harry," the man replied. "And please, call me Remus." He stretched forth his hand. After an instant's hesitation, Harry grasped it and shook firmly while trying to ignore the sweatiness.
"From what Jim said, you were his martial arts instructor when he was in Shamballa. I suppose you're here to continue with that?"
Remus smiled. "Among other things. And ... if you're interested, I would like to teach you as well."
"Yeah, Harry!" said Jim, excitedly. "Please come! You'll love it!"
Harry's smile faltered slightly. "I ... appreciate that, Jim ... and Remus. Unfortunately, I'm taking a very heavy class load this year. Plus, there's Quidditch and the new dueling club. But I'll definitely come to watch a few sessions at least."
Then, Dumbledore spoke up. "While it is up to you whether you wish to join Remus, your brother, and some of their friends exploring the magical techniques known as Wu Xi Do, Harry, I would like to ask to make it a habit of regularly spending time with Remus regardless. It pertains to that experiment I mentioned."
"Oh?" Harry inquired.
"Yes. You see, very few people know that the Caretaker Malachi Sturgeon is actually Remus Lupin, even among people here at Hogwarts who remember Remus from his school days. This is because Remus is actually under the effects of a Fidelius not unlike the one that Voldemort used to conceal his prior life as Tom Riddle. I'd like to take the opportunity to study the effectiveness of using a Fidelius in this manner, as Tom is not one to forego using a successful trick repeatedly."
Harry nodded. Certainly, Voldemort's creation of at least four horcruxes proved that to be true.
"To that end," the Headmaster continued, "I will now tell you that the full secret pertaining to Remus Lupin that is protected by the Fidelius Charm consists of more than the mere fact that he is hiding under the false identity of Malachi Sturgeon."
Harry was nonplussed. "So what's the rest of it, sir?"
"That is what I'd like you to figure out, Harry, if you can. You have, shall we say, a preternatural gift for deduction. You now know that Malachi Sturgeon is secretly Remus Lupin. I want to see if you can figure out what other secret Malachi Sturgeon has that I have not revealed to you so far."
The boy studied Remus somewhat suspiciously for a few seconds and then glanced over to the nearby window through which the bright noonday sun was streaming. "You're not a vampire, are you?" he asked cautiously.
"Certainly not!" Remus sputtered in response. "How on Earth had the boy reached that conclusion," he thought to himself. Both Jim and the Headmaster chuckled at Harry's first guess and Remus's indignant response to it.
"Okay, okay," Harry said apologetically. "Sorry ... I guess." He furrowed his brow. After a few seconds, he perked up. "Is it something to do with wolves?"
The other three looked at him practically thunderstruck, and Remus had a brief choking fit. "Why -cough - why do you ask?" he finally inquired after clearing his throat.
"Well, after I found out that I was partly named after you, I got curious and looked up your name which is, you have to admit, a bit unusual. Remus was someone from Roman mythology who was supposedly raised by a she-wolf. Lupin is from the Latin word for wolf. And your father's name Lyall is derived from Old Norse and also means wolf. So your name is basically Wolfy McWolferson. I assume that must mean ... something?" Harry looked at each of the other three, baffled at their expressions of shock.
Remus and Jim continued to stare at Harry in amazement, while Dumbledore broke out into a grin and his eyes twinkled merrily. "Very good, Harry, quite good indeed. That's not exactly the answer we're looking for, but you're on the right track."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Then, he opened them and turned back to Remus. "By any chance, is either your Patronus or your animagus form a wolf?"
Again, Remus was amazed. "Well, I'm not an animagus at all, but I do have a wolf Patronus. How did you guess?"
"Ancient Runes," Harry replied. "We spent some time talking about nomenographers and how names can be magically significant. Professor Babbling mentioned that giving someone a suggestive name might influence either their Patronus or their animagus form. Was that the other part of the secret?"
"Um, sorry but no," Remus answered with a slight wince. "As I said, I do have a wolf Patronus, but that's not a part of the Secret."
"Oh," Harry said disappointedly. "Well, in that case, I'm drawing a blank."
"That's quite alright, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Even if you fail to discover the secret despite you gifts, that is only further proof of the power of the Fidelius, and we will still know more about its capabilities than when we started. Continue to think on the matter." Then, the Headmaster paused and looked vaguely concerned for a moment. "Unless, of course, you experience any headaches or other unusual symptoms that you think might be related to your inquiries into the Secret, in which case please desist at once and let me know. There is, alas, very little research about the limitations of the Fidelius, and while unlikely, it is not impossible that there might be mental side effects to actively trying to see through one. That's why I've already given you half the Secret. Do not even consider any inquiries into the Secret if you think there's any chance you might damage your mind in some way. It is, after all, your greatest resource."
"Understood, sir," Harry replied easily, and Dumbledore took him at his word. To his own surprise, he found himself occasionally grateful for the boy's Slytherin Sorting and the pragmatism that accompanied it. A similar warning to a Gryffindor like Jim not to risk his health would practically be treated as an incitement. After a few more questions and answers, Dumbledore dismissed the two boys. Harry was almost to the door when he stopped suddenly, looked around the room, and then turned to Dumbledore.
"Do the portraits know the Secret?" he asked curiously.
Dumbledore glanced around the room in surprise. He had not actually considered how the moving portraits that covered most of his office would interact with the Fidelius. "An interesting idea, Harry. I will certainly investigate that topic. I do know none of them can pass on the Secret if they do know it so long as I remain Secret Keeper."
Harry nodded, and he and Jim left the office. Dumbledore turned to Lupin.
"Well, Remus, what do you think of young Harry?"
Lupin turned back to the old man with a smile. "Honestly, I was expecting a miniature James, like Jim is in many ways. But instead, he's so much like Lily that it's almost unnerving. That piercing way he looks at you to size you up. The way he furrows his brow in thought right before some brilliant epiphany. The way his eye twitches slightly when he's fighting not to say something sarcastic in front of authority figures. He gets all of those from her even though she didn't raise him." Then, the werewolf sighed as he recalled what he'd learned of Harry's upbringing. Dumbledore chose to change the subject.
"I was particularly struck by his deductions about your name. I'd never given it much thought, but was your name selected for nomenographic reasons?"
"Yes. It had been ... a tradition of sorts in the Lupin family to have a nomenographer select the names of newborns, from back in the days before we emigrated from France in the 17th century. Father never knew why, but he insisted in following the tradition when I was born." The werewolf's expression grew sadder. "My mother blamed my father for that. She was never anything less than loving to me even after I was bitten, but once Father explained to her how nomenography worked, she was furious. She felt certain that by naming me Remus Lupin, they had effectively fated me to become a werewolf. That they'd made it my destiny. It drove a wedge between them that lasted until the day she died."
Dumbledore said nothing. He knew all too well how Remus had suffered as a child, as a teenager, and as an adult. And also to what extent some of that suffering was the result of Dumbledore's own choices.
10 September 1993
Harry's "Detention" with Snape
On Friday afternoon, Harry had his first Occlumency/Legilimency lesson with Professor Snape himself as opposed to "Mr. X." He was pleased to learn that despite Blaise's fears, he was in no current danger of developing multiple personalities or any other psychological flaws as a result of maintaining multiple streams of thought for extended periods. In fact, Snape assured him that maintaining a secondary thought-stream at all times was perfectly safe, though opening a third stream was adventurous and not something to be done for extended periods of time.
"The true danger to such compartmentalization comes not from maintaining multiple thought-streams simultaneously," he said. "Rather, the risk comes from opening up multiple channels that are not aware of one another."
Harry was taken aback. "Why would somebody do that?"
"Several potential reasons. An Occlumens spends considerable time in the presence of one or more Legilimens while undercover or otherwise playing a role. Or an Occlumens wishes to commit a crime or some other illicit act while retaining no conscious knowledge of what he has done. It is for the latter reason that the testimony of known Occlumens is often disregarded in legal proceedings. For one sufficiently skilled in the art, it is a trivial matter to remember events differently depending on whether you are speaking to a collaborator or an investigator. Regardless, while 'nesting personalities' are relatively safe if one is cautious and self-aware, improperly maintained thought-streams can result in the Occlumens coming to genuinely believe that the lies he tells himself are true. In the worst case scenario, the Occlumens may shift between one personality and another uncontrollably since personalities, ultimately, are but the summation of the memories which form them."
"Uh-huh," said Harry as he absorbed that. "So having two thought-streams is generally safe as long as neither of them is set up to believe lies. How many thought-streams are possible at once?"
"I would recommend against exceeding three, and in any case, I can't imagine why you would need to think about more than three different things at once no matter how boring you find Professor Binns's lectures to be. After three, the strain causes a progressively worsening migraine. Von Mises claimed to have maintained five separate thought-streams at once, but the pain rendered him unconscious after just a few minutes. He concluded that there was likely no value in further research in that direction that would outweigh the probable health risks. Now, if you are quite finished discussing what is for the most part an Occlumency parlor trick, we can move on to the Legilimency portion of your detention."
Harry nodded and gripped his wand tightly as he peered into Snape's eyes. "LEGILIMENS," he intoned before hurling his meager psychic gifts against Snape's far stronger defenses. After fifteen minutes of exhausting effort, he had a relatively clear image of a young man's bedroom. The walls were adorned with Tutshill Tornados posters. On the bed was a comforter in Hufflepuff colors, and a Hufflepuff scarf hung from the bedpost. There was a tabby cat on the bed licking its paws. Suddenly, the cat jumped up to hiss angrily at Harry, its fur instantly standing on end. Startled, the boy was thrust back out into his own mind at once.
"Not bad, Potter. You are approaching Acceptable."
"Just Acceptable, Professor Snape? I was in your mind for quite a few minutes this time before the cat got me."
"Yes, but what did you do with that time, Potter? You know the cat is an Occlumency defensive trap and that you would have only a brief period to actually learn anything. And yet, all you did was stand around psychically gawking. Admittedly, your stealth has improved, but that avails you nothing if you don't learn anything useful before your inevitable discovery."
Harry frowned. "Well, honestly, I don't see what there was to learn. It was some Hufflepuff kid's bedroom."
The Potions Master sneered, which surprised Harry. Snape had not sneered at him in years. "I take it back, Potter. Poor bordering on Dreadful, if you are so foolish as to think that was just 'some Hufflepuff kid's bedroom.' You should know better than that."
The boy thought for a moment. "Oh! That wasn't just a bedroom. That was your memory palace!"
Snape scoffed. "Of course not, Potter. That was Hubert Turnipseed's memory palace!"
"... who?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Hubert Turnipseed is a fictitious Hufflepuff whose false memory palace Mr. X used to cloak his own memory palace. Which, in turn, was but another false memory palace used to conceal my true memory palace."
The boy stared at his teacher. "Isn't that exactly the sort of thing you just told me might lead to multiple personalities?"
The man snorted contemptuously. "The Turnipseed and Mr. X personae remain completely dormant until I activate them as part of an Legilimency tutoring session. There is no danger of dissociation when all three of my active personae agree on which of us is real."
Harry gaped as he tried to process that. He was also mildly annoyed to realize that he intuitively knew what dissociation and personae meant even though he was sure he'd never heard the terms before. After Luna had pointed out that little quirk of his, he'd become increasingly perturbed every time he understood some obscure terminology without knowing where he'd learned it. Harry briefly thought about sharing Luna's observations about his unnatural vocabulary skills with Snape but decided against it. For some reason, he didn't want any single person to know all the ways he was ... weird.
"Not freakish," he thought quickly. "Just ... weird."
After another twenty minutes, the lesson concluded with Snape looking through his calendar to pick a date in October for Harry's next detention. Harry stood to leave but hesitated.
"Was there something else, Mr. Potter?" Snape's tone made it perfectly clear that he wanted the answer to be 'no.'
"Just ... one thing, sir. I hesitate to ask and I wouldn't if I didn't have a very good reason, one which I'm afraid I can't disclose. But it really is important or I wouldn't trouble you with ..."
"Stop bleating like a Hufflepuff, Potter. What is it?"
Harry coughed into his hand. "It was my understanding, Professor Snape, that you were in the same Hogwarts year as a friend of James Potter's. A man called ... Remus Lupin."
It was always interesting to Harry that a man like Snape who was capable of perfectly concealing his emotions so often wouldn't bother to do so when the only witnesses were school children and other faculty members, as the man's flaring nostrils and flashing eyes could attest.
"I ... recall the man. What of him?"
Harry paused, while trying to figure out how to proceed without Snape realizing that Harry was trying to figure out how to proceed. While his natural Legilimency made him remarkably persuasive, it didn't work nearly as well on people like Snape and Moody who were aware of it and thus could see through it.
"My brother met Mr. Lupin last summer in Shamballa. Studied under him for a time, in fact. Jim mentioned that Mr. Lupin suffers from some sort of obscure medical condition but was evasive about what it was. I was wondering if you knew anything about it. Or for that matter, anything else about Mr. Lupin that a non-Gryffindor in Jim's situation would find it useful to know."
Snape seemed to glare at Harry with enough fire in his eyes to burn his way through the boy's mind, but Harry never felt a touch of Legilimency. After several seconds, Snape finally spoke.
"I ... am aware of Lupin's condition but am unable to speak freely about it. If the Other Potter were my brother – and I actually cared about him as a human being – I would strongly discourage him from studying under Lupin. Or indeed spending any time with him. But I can say nothing more than that."
Harry nodded in understanding. "Thank you, sir." He turned and headed for the door when Snape called out to him.
"Will you be joining Professor Scrimgeour's Patronus class, Mr. Potter?"
The boy paused at the door. "I was planning to, sir."
Snape stared at him meaningfully. "It might behoove you to review the passage from your Defense text that covers Dementors. I believe you will find it on ... page 394."
Harry nodded again. "I'll review that information at once, sir. Thank you."
Snape had already sat back down at his desk and seemed to be ignoring the boy. Harry turned and left.
Twenty minutes later, Harry was back in his room flipping through the DADA book. He quickly found page 394 and spent several minutes studying it intently, but for the life of him, he could find nothing that seemed relevant to Remus Lupin or his mysterious Secret. Just a lengthy entry about Dementors and a checklist for how to identify werewolves. He shut the book in frustration and returned it to his backpack. Then, after a few moments thought, he laid down on his bed and retrieved the two-way communication mirror from the side table drawer. He tapped it twice and said Sirius's name. Soon, the image of a yawning Sirius Black appeared in the frame.
"Hey, Harry. What's up?" Sirius said in a bleary voice that strongly indicated he had been sound asleep.
"I'm sorry to bother you this late, but I need to ask you a question."
"Of course, Harry. Ask away."
"Okay, now before I ask, I want to say that I wouldn't be asking you if it weren't important. And I promise you that I won't spread it around whatever the answer is."
"Harry...?"
"I figure you might think it's none of my business, but it's something the Headmaster asked me to do, and it may at some point be helpful against You-Know-Who."
"Harry," Sirius interrupted firmly. "What do you want to know?"
Harry bit his bottom lip and then asked. "I know that Remus Lupin has a big secret of some kind. And I'm pretty sure you know what it is. Can you tell me?"
Sirius's eyes widened. He hesitated. "This is something Dumbledore wants you to find out? But he already know Moony's biggest secret. That is, unless there's another not even I know about."
"I know Dumbledore already knows it. But he wants to see if I can figure it out on my own. I can't say anything more than that. I can only ask you to trust me."
Sirius nodded. "I do, Harry. I do." He looked around as if to make sure no one was listening, least of all his younger brother who would not react well to finding out this particular secret. "Okay, here it is. Remus Lupin is a werewolf."
Harry blinked several times. "Okay," he finally said.
"Is that it?" Sirius asked in surprise. "Any questions?"
"No," Harry replied. "That's all I needed to talk about. Get plenty of rest, Sirius. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Okay, Harry," Sirius said uncertainly. Harry deactivated the mirror and then returned it to his nightstand drawer. Then, he laid back in his bed, his brow furrowed in disappointment.
"Damn," he thought, "I was sure Sirius would know what Remus Lupin's secret was. But he couldn't help me figure it out anymore than Snape could." Tired from his busy week, Harry shrugged, turned out the lights, and quickly fell asleep.
11 September 1993
4:00 p.m. – The Hogwarts Dueling Club
"Good afternoon, students," said Professor Scrimgeour. "Thank you all who decided to sacrifice a lovely Saturday afternoon in favor of spending your time in a dark dingy classroom learning how to hex one another for fun and profit and listening to me grumble at you."
Scrimgeour surveyed the assembled students. There were only about forty students in all, mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins. A few Hufflepuffs but surprisingly few Ravenclaws, despite the involvement of their Head of House. "All in all not a spectacular start," he thought. He'd been told that the imbecile who preceded him as DADA instructor had gotten twice as many the year before, but then, Lockhart had apparently offered free food, which presumably helped to draw a crowd. Standing alongside Scrimgeour were Professor Flitwick, "graduate student" Marcus Flint, the Head Boy and Girl, and several prefects. Professor Snape was somewhat conspicuous by his absence. Although he had agreed to help with the Dueling Club, he was unable to attend the organizational meeting, supposedly because he was "brewing" today. Scrimgeour wondered how often that would end up being the ex-Death Eater's excuse for avoiding the former Chief Auror's presence.
Although the number of participants was less than Scrimgeour had expected (which was not a bad thing in his eye seeing as how he was not overly interested in competitive dueling anyway), the professor was pleased to note the presence of several students in which he'd become interested. Both Potter boys and their respective coteries. The No-Name boy who was keeping a noticeable distance from anyone likely to be hostile to him. (He and Harry Potter had also avoided each other, but the patterns of their movements informed Scrimgeour that the two had choreographed the whole thing to conceal their continued friendship.) The Weasley Twins who, curiously, were avoiding one another.
"The purpose of this student organization is to provide formal training for competitive dueling for any of you who wish to pursue that career option. It is not for learning how to more efficiently hex and curse your classmates in the hallways. It is not for learning how to be a better criminal or worse a future Death Eater. It is not even for preparing for the Auror Academy. And above all, it is not for learning any Dark magic, however anyone chooses to define it. In a few moments, you will be divided up by Year, which is how future sessions will be organized. As you may have guessed , First Years are not allowed to participate since, at this point, they know no spells useful for any constructive purpose, let alone combat. The rest of you will be divided into groups A, B, C and D. Group A will consist of Second and Third Years and will meet for two hours from 7-9 on every other Tuesday beginning next week. Group B will consist of Fourth and Fifth Years and will meet for two hours on the other Tuesday beginning week after next. Groups C and D will consist of Sixth and Seventh years respectively and will meet on alternating Wednesdays from 7-9."
"The week before the Christmas break, we will have a tournament within each group, and students who perform well enough will be offered the chance to move into a higher bracket. The ultimate objective is to prepare at least a few of you to participate in the European Student League Dueling Circuit next summer. That circuit has three levels of competition open to students aged 12-16: novice class, open class, and junior world class. For those of you who are graduating – and I suppose any younger students who prove to be genuine prodigies – your training will be preparation for entering the European Professional League Circuit, which is broken up into amateur class, open class, and professional world class, though should anyone choose to enter the professional circuit, you will be required to start in the amateur class and work your way up. Our hope is that at least some of you will demonstrate the natural skill and dedication to enter competition at an age- and skill-appropriate level without embarrassing your school and humiliating your families. A tall order, I know, but hope springs eternal."
"With that, I will turn the floor over to Professor Flitwick, who will explain all the tedious 'rules' and other things that I can't be buggered to care about. Professor Flitwick?" Without even waiting for the Charms professor to reply, Scrimgeour hobbled over to take a seat. For his part, Flitwick clicked his tongue at his coworker's use of the word buggered before addressing the group.
"Thank you, Professor Scrimgeour for that ... effusive introduction. For the remainder of this introductory session, we will cover those aspects of competitive dueling that are common to all levels. Before you leave, if you have not already done so, please pick up one of the parchment sheets stacked on the table by the door. It will list all the spells legal for the various European League brackets. Please review them carefully as using any spell in a duel not approved for that level of competition or lower is grounds for automatic disqualification."
As the diminutive professor spoke, Harry glanced over the parchment he'd picked up when he'd entered. Already, he knew every spell on the novice list and nearly all the ones on the open class list. He wondered if it was arrogant to think he might be ready to compete in open class by the following summer. "Probably so," he thought, "if I didn't have an open class professional duelist back at 12 Grimmauld Place to help train me."
"We will begin with an introduction to dueling etiquette," Flitwick continued. "Another area where failure to properly follow the rules can lead to a loss of points if not disqualification. In the European Circuit, you will most likely be dueling under French rules or Bulgarian rules. While there are some nuances, the primary differences between the two lie in the size and shape of the dueling area and in the rituals that precede the start of the actual duel. In all types of competitive duels, the area in which dueling occurs is bounded by a special type of competition ward known as a Certamen Ward to prevent outsiders from being harmed. Under French rules, that area is relatively small, a rectangular area about fifteen feet wide and forty feet long. Competitors meet in the center, raise their wands in salute to one another, and then march back to their opposite sides and stand at ease while awaiting the instruction to begin. For those of you who observed the single session of the dueling club overseen last year by Professor Lockhart before it was disrupted by ... some unpleasantness, it was run under French rules. In Bulgarian rules, the dueling area is a circle about 100 feet in diameter. Duelists salute one another from opposite sides, and then slip directly into a dueling stance while awaiting the duel's commencement, usually in the form of a handkerchief or something similar that is levitated above the center of the circle and then allowed to drift down to the ground as a signal to begin."
Scrimgeour interrupted. "I've always suspected the Bulgarians preferred such rules because they never wanted to turn their back on an opponent. A sensible attitude, if you ask me."
"Thank you, Professor Scrimgeour, for you generous insights," Flitwick said with some asperity. "Now then, students, we will begin by teaching you proper dueling stances. Please assemble yourselves into a block, and I will review the proper bowing technique followed by several of the more common stances."
With some murmuring, the students arranged themselves into the desired block and awaited instruction, while the DADA professor entertained himself by observing how quickly the interesting students absorbed the day's lessons.
Later, a few hours before sunset ...
For about the fiftieth time in the last hour, Remus glanced at the clock on the wall of his office. He'd grown increasingly anxious as the day had progressed despite his best efforts to meditate and maintain a spiritual balance. Back in Shamballa, he usually spent several days in meditation to prepare for the full moon, but that was not an option here while he was posing as the school's caretaker and thus couldn't simply disappear into his quarters for days at a time. He jumped slightly at a soft knock on the door. Dumbledore entered bearing a steaming goblet containing what he'd referred to as the Wolfsbane Potion, the last great innovation of the legendary Potions Master Damocles Belby.
"Headmaster," Remus said in surprise. "You didn't have to come here. I was waiting for you to send word to come to your office."
"That's quite alright, my boy," he said as he put the goblet on the desk in front of his former student. "To be perfectly honest, the Caretaker's Office is nearer both the Infirmary and the Whomping Willow if something goes wrong with the potion. For that same reason, I will be accompanying you to the Shrieking Shack and remaining through your transformation."
Remus looked horrified and also somewhat embarrassed. "Albus, there's no need for that."
"I disagree, Remus. I owe it to you to oversee this process, for your peace of mind and my own. As per your instructions, I have had Hagrid acquire some fresh game from the Forbidden Forest, and house elves have already delivered it to the Shack."
Remus looked down at the steaming goblet with something like shame on his face. "Still ... it's been a long time since anyone has seen me ... like that."
"I know, Remus. I know. But if someone must, who would be better than me?" Dumbledore looked down at the goblet as well. "After all, it's nothing I haven't seen before."
12 September 1993
4:00 p.m.
Patronus Lessons
The following day, a group of students (and, in fact, a great many of the same students) met in the same room for an introduction to the Patronus Charm. Scrimgeour's introductory speech was even briefer today before he handed over the group to Marcus Flint, who swallowed almost painfully before addressing the group. Although he was taking one class (7th Year NEWTs Transfiguration under McGonagall) plus private Potions lessons from a student tutor, he wasn't actually considered a student. More to the point, he wasn't technically a Slytherin in any sense other than "Slytherin alumnus." At night, he slept in his room at the Three Broomsticks. He also ate breakfast there, but while he ate lunch and dinner in the Great Hall, Professor Scrimgeour had instructed him to move around regularly to the other Houses' tables so that he could answer any Patronus-related questions while obviating concerns about pro-Slytherin bias. Or at least that was the official reason. Unofficially, Scrimgeour had bluntly told him that Slytherin House had a "troubled" reputation as a result of the Wizarding War, so someone of his "less than stellar social standing" should take the opportunity to make new and hopefully influential friends.
After lengthy discussions with Scrimgeour and also every staff member who he knew could cast the Charm, Marcus decided that the best approach would be to follow the path set by Gilderoy Lockhart with Team Protector, though with an accelerated schedule. That is, they would begin with carefully monitored Boggart Banishing spells to get used to maintaining contradictory emotional states (i.e. laughing at something normally terrifying) and other increasingly complex esoteric spells before moving on to the the Patronus which has some of the most demanding mental requirements of any esoteric spell - that the caster maintain a picture of his happiest memory while under fear- and despair-inducing conditions. While many of the students were unhappy at the thought of facing a boggart, Marcus reassured them that no one would be allowed to observe anyone else's fears – he gave Jim Potter a brief glare at one point – and he stated that he would be willing to swear an oath of secrecy about anything he witnessed if asked.
Flitwick and Scrimgeour both expressed surprise at that policy. Apparently, the "traditional" approach to dealing with boggarts was simply to have several people approach it together but from different angles. If there were too many people in close proximity, a boggart would become confused as to which form to take and thus be more vulnerable to the Riddikulus. Apparently, Lockhart had gone with one-on-one boggart training instead because the goal of the lesson was to master esoteric requirements rather than simply to banish the creature as efficiently as possible.
After further discussion about the Patronus Charm (and a display of Ironside that the students found suitably impressive), Marcus set up a meeting schedule for the group over the next several weeks. Then, the students drifted out of the room. Theo No-Name was the first out the door, having already learned the hard way to exit quickly so that he could get ahead of anyone who might otherwise lay in wait for him. As they were leaving, Harry noticed that Jim's expression seemed troubled, so he went over to talk with his brother.
"What's up, Jim?" he asked. "You seem down for some reason. I thought you'd be excited about learning the Patronus."
He shrugged. "I am ... about that part of it. It's the boggart that has me worried to be honest."
"Come on. You're a Gryffindor. I can't imagine a boggart that's too scary for you to worry about."
"It's not that it's ... scary. But ... Harry, I've seen my boggart. Last year, back when ... you know."
Harry nodded. He assumed "you know" was Jim's oblique way of referring to that time he ended up hospitalized from boggart exposure due to a prank by Jim that went wrong. But he was unaware until now that Jim had taken the opportunity to meet the boggart himself.
"Honestly, it's not even scary," Jim continued. "But it is ... embarrassing. In a "this could end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet" sort of way."
Intrigued, Harry popped his wand and cast a Muffliato. "What was it?" he asked.
Jim looked around, as if nervous someone could hear through the privacy charm. "It was ... a succession of friends and family all telling me how much I sucked at being the Boy-Who-Lived and that Voldemort was going to come back and kill everyone and it would be my fault."
For a brief second, Harry almost laughed at the idea of Jim's boggart fear being nothing but insecurity made manifest. But then he caught himself. Over the last year, he'd been forced to appreciate the burdens that Jim carried as the Boy-Who-Lived. For someone who was expected to be the savior of his entire nation if not the world, insecurity and lack of self-esteem might well be more problematic than actual tangible dangers. Harry considered the problem.
"This was last fall when you encountered the boggart?" he asked. Jim nodded solemnly. "Okay, you've got an advantage none of the others have. It turns out that the school's caretaker is secretly your psychic arts guru. And I'd bet good money that he also knows how to handle boggarts. Get him to help you prepare after hours for the next meeting. And who knows? Maybe your boggart has changed since then. You've been through a lot. You've faced another version of Voldemort. You even killed his pet basilisk. Maybe you've gotten over that particular fear, at least enough for it to not trigger a boggart."
Jim nodded and smiled. "Thanks Harry!" Harry dispelled the privacy charm, and the two brothers rejoined their respective social groups and left the room. Rufus Scrimgeour watched the Potter brothers depart together, thankful not for the first time that years earlier, he had learned to read lips.
Next: Halloween 1993. Harry's first Hogsmeade Weekend. And the final fate of Binky (for real, this time).
AN 1: Some clarification about Remus's Fidelius may be helpful to readers going forward. The Secret is "Malachi Sturgeon is actually the werewolf Remus Lupin." The fact that Remus Lupin is a werewolf by itself is a secret but not actually a Secret. Ditto the fact that Remus Lupin is also known as Brother Chandra.
A. The people who know all of those facts include Remus himself, Dumbledore, and Jim.
B. The people who know that Malachi Sturgeon is Brother Chandra but not the other facts about him include Ron and soon Padma. Anyone who is told by any means that Malachi is also known as Chandra will be able to retain the knowledge.
C. The people who only know that Malachi Sturgeon is actually Remus Lupin (aka Brother Chandra) but nothing else about him consists of just Harry at the moment. He is presently incapable of knowing that Sturgeon/Lupin is a werewolf or retaining that knowledge if told by someone other than Dumbledore.
D. Everyone who ever knew that Remus Lupin was a werewolf still knows it. They're just incapable of knowing that the person who calls himself Malachi Sturgeon is really Remus Lupin even though he looks exactly like Remus Lupin with shaggy hair and a beard. Technically, it would have been possible to make everyone forget that Remus had ever been a werewolf, but it would have made the Fidelius much more difficult to cast, even for Dumbledore.
E. The Fidelius is weird.
AN2: "Jamais vu" is a real thing. You can trigger it in yourself by picking a common word like "soap" or "bird" and trying to write it as often and as quickly as you can for a minute. By the end, most people will suddenly think that the word is strange-looking and somehow unfamiliar, and a significant number of people will actually become briefly convinced that it's not a real word at all. Comedian Steven Wright's "Vuja De," on the other hand is fictitious but still amusing.
AN3: The Sinister Man is just exploding across the Internet! There is now a Discord page for HP&POS and my other future works at discord . me / thesinisterman and a Twitter account at TheSinisterMan man_sinister for announcements about this story and others to come. (Remove the spaces.) There's also the beginnings of a POS-verse Wiki, and a Sinister Man website is on the way. Special thanks to Ozzie and sfu for all their hard work. Thanks guys.