Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to JK Rowling. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.
– CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR –
Ferret Abound
Harry spent the following few days pouring through the memories held in the Pensieve, helped by Hermione, and on occasion, Ginny. Whenever they had an opportunity, any one of them would run up to Harry's room to study another few memories. Hermione thought that they should work through Dumbledore's memories of Riddle's school years chronologically, insisting that if Riddle ever gave away any important information about his quest for immortality, it would have been when he was young and less able to hide his emotions.
And so Harry, Hermione and Ginny sieved through Dumbledore's memories of the young Tom Riddle, but they found very little of interest; a quiet talk to one of his 'dedicated friends' here, an overheard conversation with Slughorn about a particularly dark book he'd read there, but nothing substantial. Eventually, against Hermione's advice to finish Riddle's Hogwarts years, Harry started looking at Dumbledore's memories of conversations with Tom's Professors, most of which took place in the staff room.
A week later he came across a memory during a free period, of Slughorn having an amused conversation with the Charms Professor and Dumbledore at the start of a new school year. Apparently, from what Harry could glean from the exchange, Riddle had been the cause of a rather entertaining incident regarding underage magic during the summer after his first year. In a fit of rage against another orphan, he had banished him to the site of that year's summer outing, it had caused quite a commotion at the Ministry, as it had happened in the middle of the orphanage's lunch hall. Practically the entire orphanage had had to be obliviated, and there had been serious talk of snapping Tom Riddle's wand.
When Harry finally emerged from the memory, he hurried out his dormitory to find Hermione, who he found having a heated discussion with Ginny about the ramifications of Golpalott's Laws in the common room.
'But Ginny, listen to me! If you want to find the antidote to a blended poison you need to make sure the antidotes to the individual poisons don't cancel out, and find the extra ingredient which helps blend them. Now, in –' but she didn't get any further.
Harry grabbed her shoulder, and leaning into her, whispered in her ear, 'I found something you should see, now.' Hermione gave Ginny an apologetic look, and said that they could finish talking later, before leaping up and following Harry up to his room, where he found the memory again and showed it to her. When the Hermione came back out, she had thoughtful look on her face.
'This does look quite interesting Harry, it would be fitting in with the pattern of hiding places wouldn't it?' Harry nodded. 'I mean, it would have been an important event in his past, and even though a lot of people would remember what happened, not many of them would be able to link Lord Voldemort to his past as Tom Riddle.' She paused to think for a moment before adding. 'Anyway, even less people would risk the wrath of Voldemort, and the only person apart from us who knows about the Horcruxes is Professor Slughorn, and we both know how he feels about angering Voldemort.'
Harry scowled; he had lost almost all of the respect he had had for the Potions Professor since he'd started looking through Dumbledore's memories. Slughorn had a vast knowledge of Riddle's life at Hogwarts and of the few years when he'd worked at Borgin and Burkes, and with his intimate knowledge of Voldemort's only weakness, had the potential to play a significant role in his demise, but he did nothing. This lack of action on Slughorn's part angered Harry more than anything, except perhaps Pettigrew's betrayal.
While there were wizards and witches doing everything in their power to resist Voldemort, with no hope of success, Harry was galled that Slughorn could sit back and do nothing. Especially when he knew of Voldemort's Horcruxes and so consciously chose to allow him a chance at immortality.
'Harry,' Hermione said, dragging him out of his thoughts, 'can you look for any other memories that are connected to this incident? I'll go to the Library and see if I can find anything about it in the old Daily Prophet papers.' Harry nodded and Hermione left the room, presumably to tell Ginny that they would have to continue their discussion at a later point.
Before she'd even left the room, Harry was swirling the thoughts around with his wand, searching for any conversations Dumbledore had had that were related to Riddle's accidental use of underage magic. After a few minutes, Harry thought he'd found what he was looking for, and dove in without hesitation.
Falling though the icy-cold darkness, when he suddenly stopped, he found himself in the Headmistress' office, except that sitting behind the desk, was Professor Dippet. The wizened, frail-looking wizard looked in much better health than when Harry had last seen him in Riddle's Horcrux memory, and was happily conversing with a much younger Dumbledore. Harry looked around the office, but it was as sparsely furnished as the last time he'd seen it, the only difference being, that when he looked out the window, he saw that the sun was high in the sky and grounds looked dry. It was must have been a mid-summer's day.
Harry's attention was dragged towards the conversation when he heard Dumbledore mention Riddle, and he turned to listen to the two professors talking.
'Yes Armando, I know you have sympathy of the boy, and granted, it was his first act of underage magic, but it did cause a lot of hassle for the Ministry. Some of his behaviour prior to his attendance here was most worrying, and I have reason to believe he is not entirely honest. I think we should be considering suspension for the time being,' Professor Dippet's eyes, which had up to this point been staring vaguely at his steeped fingers, snapped up in shock, 'until we can ascertain whether it was deliberate or not.'
'Now see here Albus, we can't go suspending students after the first instance of underage magic, accidental or not. He's a first year for heaven's sake, he doesn't even know how to banish someone; it was purely a subconscious reaction. I will not suspend him for defending himself, it will not do!' He shook his head fervently. 'You're prepared to leave him at that Muggle orphanage for banishing a bully to Hampshire, that's preposterous!'
Dumbledore put his hands up in defence, and exclaimed, 'I'm not suggesting we leave him there permanently Armando, just until we can establish how deliberate his actions were. If he can accidentally banish a Muggle in a fit of temper when, as you said, he doesn't know the charm yet, imagine what he could do to a student here if they were to antagonise him? He banished that boy to Hampshire, from London, wandlessly Armando; imagine what he could do with a wand if he were so inclined. That is all that I am saying.' But it was clear that Professor Dippet had had enough.
'No Albus, I will not do it. Believe what you will, but all I've ever heard about him is his eagerness to learn, which is such a rarity these days, his near perfect marks in every subject, and his awareness of manners! I will not suspend such an exemplary student for a case of accidental magic.'
Dumbledore nodded in tired resignation, and stood up. 'Is there anything else you need to discuss with me Armando?' Professor Dippet shook his head. 'In that case, I have my NEWT lesson plans to prepare. Good day Armando.'
'Good day Albus.' Professor Dippet replied, though his voice was cold, as Professor Dumbledore turned towards the door. The memory ended and the next thing Harry knew, he was back in his dormitory.
He hurried down the stairs to the common room, and giving Ginny a hasty wave, hurried out the portrait hole. He made his way quickly towards the Library, not really thinking about the route, avoiding trick stairs and fake doors automatically.
His mind was whirling with all the information he had discovered within the last hour or so. He was fairly certain now of the general location of that fateful summer trip, and of its immeasurable importance. There seemed to have been very few unusually notorious incidents in Tom Riddle's early life, and so far each one was marked as the location of a Horcrux, and there was no reason to believe that this event would be any different. 'Now if only Hermione can find an exact location for the trip –'
As the thought materialised in his mind, Harry turned a corner and ran into Ron. Staggering back, he hurried to apologise, but upon seeing who it was, scowled. Ron sneered at him, and tried to shove his way past Harry, who held his ground.
'Out of my way Potter, I'm late for a prefect meeting with Ernie. Unlike you, he considers me important enough to share news with.' Ignoring the jibe, Harry pushed Ron back to face him.
'I hope you know how much you're hurting Hermione,' he growled, 'she practically bursts into tears every time your name is mentioned these days.'
'She does?' Ron exclaimed, his face paling, but a moment later, the sneer was plastered back on his face. 'Well, it's going to take a little more than some silly girl crying a bit for me to ever be friends with you again Potter. Now get out of my way!' He threw Harry back violently, and stormed away.
Harry stared at his retreating robes for a few seconds, before turning back in the direction of the Library, his face a blank mask. He found Hermione buried under a pile of yellowing Daily Prophet papers, and asked her if she'd found anything yet, mentioning that all he'd found out was that it was somewhere in Hampshire. Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't found the related newspaper edition yet, but had shortened the pile of crumbling newsprints to the summer of fifty nine years ago, and asked Harry to help her.
Unfortunately, the bell for the next lesson rang a less than half an hour later, and the two of them hurried to clear away the crumbling paper. Ignoring the angry cries of Madam Pince, they rushed out the Library and hurried down the three flights of stairs and innumerable corridors to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. They made it just as Professor Moody was about to shut the door, and Harry was greeted with a gruff reprimand for his near tardiness, but grinned. He knew, from his long hours of extra tuition, that Moody's harsh exterior was mostly an act to scare any potential foe into taking a split second too long to cast a curse, well … mostly.
'Alright, quieten down, now!' Moody barked as he reached the front of the classroom. Instantly, the whole class, which had been up to that point filled with quiet whispers as books and parchment were pulled out of bags, was plunged into a deafening silence. 'Now who can tell me how you block an Unforgivable Curse?' Silence followed this question as almost everyone stared at Professor Moody with undisguised shock. It was well known that the Killing Curse alone was unblockable.
'Come on now, I know that at least three on you know this,' his normal eye swept over Harry, Hermione and Ron as he said this, 'so don't pretend to be thick.'
Harry wondered when he'd ever seen an Unforgivable Curse being blocked, and his mind wandered to the first night he had tried casting it. He was in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic; Bellatrix Lestrange was taunting him after murdering her cousin, Sirius Black, his godfather. He remembered as the rage built inside him, and he bellowed 'Crucio!' and watched as Lestrange was blown off her feet as if in slow motion.
And suddenly it came to him, as he remembered when first Bellatrix, then Voldemort, cast an Unforgivable Curse at him, both of which were blocked, not with magic, but with a physical object. As his mind still dwelt on the repercussions of that fateful night, his hand rose slowly into the air. From an almost detached point of view, he noted that Moody was nodding slowly, and that the rest of the class had turned to look at him, Hermione had a confused look on her face, but it quickly became pensive.
Professor Moody waved at Harry to answer, and he croaked out. 'An Unforgivable Curse can only be blocked or deflected using a physical object as a shield, no spell will block them.' Hermione had a look of sudden comprehension on her face, while the rest of the class looked either confused or pensive.
'Well done Potter,' Professor Moody said, walking over to Harry to give him a pat on the back, 'as Potter here said, the only known way to block an Unforgivable Curse is to use a physical object as a shield. That and dodging out of the way are your only chances at avoiding getting hit by them, so remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' He roared. Most of the class jumped out of their seats, but a few, who had gotten used to Professor Moody's sudden exclamations, managed to remain seated. 'Now, we're going to practice using objects to block curses. We won't be using the Unforgivable Curses, but you can practise just as well with other curses, but remember to only use complex or powerful curses, a simple Stupefy won't do anything to an inanimate object.' There was an audible gulp from over three quarters of the class, as everyone turned to look at each other in fear. 'Come on now, up! I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can fix anything you can do to each other, so don't worry about injuries. Maybe you'll learn from your mistakes, now up!' He roared.
Everyone jumped this time, and slowly they got out of their seats, watching each other warily. Harry paired up with Hermione, and gave her a reassuring grin. He wouldn't use any simple spells, but that didn't mean they had to be nasty either. Hermione smiled weakly back, and walked to the other side of the room, and as she turned around, Harry fired a silent spell at her. Surprised, she hastily Summoned one of the desks into the path of the spell.
As the beam of light hit with it, the desk turned into a pink, fluffy pillow. The whole class went silent for a moment, before a couple of the girls giggled, and turned back to their partners shooting of an assortment of differently coloured spells. Soon the room was filled with an assortment of toys, new pieces of furniture and a couple of animals, not all of which had previously been pieces of school property. However, one pair was not exchanging spells. Hermione was glaring at Harry.
'You tried to transfigure me into a pillow? A pink, fluffy pillow?' Harry fidgeted nervously under her glare, as she approached him, her wand unwaveringly pointed at his chest.
'Come on Hermione, we both know you would be able to block it,' he groaned, 'and even if you hadn't, you'd have dodged it.' Hermione didn't look in the least bit appeased.
'You still tried to turn me in to a pink, fluffy pillow!' She practically shouted.
'I thought it was rather funny,' he mumbled, 'and it did give everyone else more entertaining ideas to curse each other with. At least Madam Pomfrey won't be swamped with injuries at the end of the lesson.' Hermione seemed to relax when he said this, and even managed to smile slightly, but her wand hadn't dropped.
'You thought it would be funny, did you?' She was practically nose to nose with him now, and Harry nodded nervously, wondering what she was about to do. 'Well laugh at this!' She exclaimed, smirking, as a beam of light shot out of her wand.
Harry didn't even have a chance to register that she'd just cursed him, when he felt himself shrinking. He closed his eyes to escape the very odd sensation of seeing your eye level drop without moving, and when he felt his body stop changing, he opened his eyes. His eye level had dropped almost to the floor, and he turned he head to look at himself to see what Hermione had turned him into and made a small speak, which had he been human, would have sounded like a moan.
Hermione had turned him into a jet black ferret and as the realisation of what was to come hit him, Hermione pointed her wand at him, and he flew into the air. As he soared up, he vaguely wondered how many cracked ribs he'd have when she was done with him. Next thing he knew, he'd hit the ground with a squeal of pain.
'Never – ever – try – to – do – that – again, – understand?' She growled, pronouncing each word as Harry hit the floor and bounced up again, doing an unnervingly good impression of Professor Moody's impostor.
Harry the ferret nodded fervently, hoping to get Hermione to stop soon before she did any permanent damage, but Hermione either didn't see it, or was having too much fun, because she didn't stop. Harry fleetingly caught a glimpse of Moody, and willed him to stop Hermione soon; all the collisions with the floor were really starting to hurt … However, Moody had a grimace stretched across his scarred face, which Harry had long ago come to associate with amusement.
He twisted his head back and forth rapidly in mid-flight, desperate to find some help from someone in the classroom, but everyone seemed to be finding Hermione's new form of torture hilarious. Harry noted with barely suppressed rage, that Ron was bent over a stray desk, tears of laughter coursing down his cheeks.
Unfortunately, his violent head turns were throwing his new, smaller body off balance, and he started spinning slowly in between bounces, bringing pain to other parts of his body, until he found himself looking at the room from upside down. Well that's as much as he surmised through the haze of pain, as everyone suddenly seemed to be standing on the ceiling –
The last thing he saw was what he knew to be the floor, approaching very fast before everything went black.