Chapter 22
I'm Done Worrying
All of the Weasleys except for Charlie and Bill gathered around the kitchen table at No. 17 Grimmauld Place at 3:15 am. With the fall of the Ministry, they could not safely remain at the Burrow. As a ministry official, Arthur had not been allowed to name a secret keeper for his residence, and though other protections had been enacted, he knew they were not up to the task of deflecting a concerted death eater attack. If You Know Who's followers succeeded in breaching the considerable protections of the Ministry itself, the Burrow did not stand a chance. Harry instructed Dobby to provide the necessary information for all of them to move to his home, and after grabbing as many of their personal belongings as they could, they moved into Grimmauld, which fortunately afforded ample space for all of them and many more. Hermione also moved in, as her parents' home had no protection at all.
Harry and Hermione occupied Harry's room, leaving the Weasleys to discuss their plight without outside interference, though the family no doubt would have welcomed their presence. Harry had kicked off his shoes and lay comfortably on his bed, an extra pillow propping up his head in order to be able to see Hermione sitting on a chair. To be accurate, Hermione did not sit so much as sit, stand, pace, and generally work herself into a dither. As normal when she became overly agitated, she could not stop talking. Harry did his best to listen courteously, but before long he could not fail to find humor in the scene. At last, a brief laugh could not be suppressed, and once it escaped, a waterfall of laughter followed.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I can't help it. If you could see yourself, you'd understand." Hermione forced herself into a chair but still sent Harry a scathing look. Her hair, which had been slept in for an hour before the evacuation of Hogwarts, appeared as frazzled as her nerves, and she remained in her bathrobe.
"I can't help it! Hogwarts is closed, the Ministry lost to death eaters. Our whole world is falling apart! How can you just lie there?"
"What do you want me to do about it? Should I go to the Ministry and ask the death eaters to go home? Maybe if I say 'Please.'"
"Now is not the time for jokes," the teenage girl admonished, "We need to make plans. What are we going to do? I don't have any idea what to do next."
"Actually," Harry answered calmly, lying back with his hands behind his head, "I know exactly what I'm going to do." He paused for several moments until he realized that Hermione expected him to explain himself. "I'm going to be leaving for a few days. The Weasleys and you can stay here; you'll be safe. When I return in, I don't know, three or four days, then it will be time to act."
"You're leaving?" Hermione gasped, "How can you leave now? It's too dangerous. Stay here for a few days, and let things settle down." She vacated her chair once again.
"Things are not going to settle down, but don't worry. Where I'm going is quite safe. Nobody will know where I am." Harry could see that he had not satisfied his friend, so he added, "Look, I'm almost ready. Don't worry. When I come back, I'll explain. There are a few more things I need to learn. I'm almost there." Hermione's mood did not improve.
"Don't tell me not to worry. I'm worrying about everything. Maybe you should be worrying a little more too."
Harry just smiled, "I've been worrying all my life. I'm done worrying. Now we're going to do something about it. Just have a little patience."
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ANARCHY!
Last night, the Ministry offices in London were attacked by followers of He Who Must Not Be Named. After several hours of intense fighting, the building had to be abandoned by the Ministry to the death eaters, who currently have control of it. Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour is believed to have escaped along with other high Ministry officials. The current location of the Minister is unknown, but an official statement has been released from his office:
"The Ministry is distressed to inform the wizarding world that it has lost control of the Ministry offices to followers of He Who Must Not Be Named. Many aurors and ministry employees fought valiantly against the dark forces, but unfortunately they were not able to prevent the takeover. The Ministry is currently relocating to a secret location, and will continue its resistance against the forces of evil."
No statement has been issued by those currently in possession of the Ministry building, and it is not known if He Who Must Not Be Named is there. The effect of the attack has been immediate and profound. All wizards and witches have been instructed not to report to their places of employment. Many families are leaving Britain or otherwise going into hiding. All schools have been closed, and students have returned to their homes. The wizarding world in Britain is currently in a state of anarchy and despair.
The Daily Prophet has had to abandon its Diagon Alley offices as a result of this attack and will continue to print a reduced daily edition from an undisclosed location. The Prophet regrets that it cannot accept any mail from its readers until further notice.
Professor Dumbledore quickly scanned the article which Harry had brought to him, as he had already read it before. Fawkes brought him the newspaper every day. A look of supreme calm came over his face, and in fact he slightly smiled.
"You don't look very concerned about this, Professor," Harry commented.
"Not true, I am extremely concerned, but I do feel that this tragic event may serve our purposes quite nicely." Dumbledore scratched his neatly trimmed goatee, much like a chess player contemplating his next move. Harry noted that the old man seemed to have gained some strength over the past few days.
"I thought the same thing, sir," Harry agreed, sipping on a glass of water, "At least now we know where Voldemort is, and wherever he is, Nagini will be close by." The young wizard dressed comfortably in jeans and a t-shirt, his jacket hanging over a chair in the kitchen.
"Correct, Harry. Moreover, I happen to have detailed knowledge of the Ministry offices that few others possess. Voldemort is, I am quite sure, unaware of the special characteristics of the building, and we may be able to use these to our benefit. Yes, I do believe that Lord Voldemort may come to regret his decision to mark his return with such a spectacular battle. He will not abandon the building; otherwise, the attack would be for naught. Yes, many possibilities come to mind; I will need to give this my full consideration. However, most pressing is to continue your lessons, as we now have little time to waste."
A sense of urgency infused their lessons, and Harry spent all of his time at Dumbledore's flat for the several days after the Ministry attack, transfiguring the sofa into a bed for the nights. Though aware that the wizarding world had spiraled into a state of upheaval, Harry only knew the bits and pieces that the Daily Prophet managed to publish. The newspaper with difficulty could print two pages of news, and it had to change its location almost daily, as death eaters were attempting to capture the editors and place the publication under their control. Minister Scrimgeour's pronouncements feigned control over the government, but everyone knew the truth - no government existed.
Fortunately, Harry's progress advanced tremendously. His confidence in his magical abilities soared to an all-time high, and at times he realized he could perform magic that few wizards would dare to attempt. Dumbledore stepped up the pace, turning into a jovial but insistent task master. He now attacked Harry's mind ferociously, testing Harry's Occlumency. The teacher finally found himself satisfied; Harry could erect his "wall of ice" almost immediately.
Legilimency came much easier to Harry, as Dumbledore expected, since he knew Occlumency to be the more difficult of the two disciplines. They spent most of their time not on mastering the spell, which Harry had accomplished within minutes, but learning how to manipulate the invaded mind once he had entered. Unfortunately Harry could only practice on Dumbledore; ideally they would have preferred to have many practice partners. On the other hand, Dumbledore's mental powers far exceeded any other possible subject, and he managed to provide many different exercises.
Lastly, Dumbledore with some trepidation began teaching Harry the arguably dark art of animal possession.
"Most of the wizards who have practiced this art have been immersed in the dark arts, Harry, that is most demonstrably true; however, I have never been convinced that the act of animal possession itself is inherently dark. Both Slytherin and Gryffindor were known to possess animals for various purposes. I will admit to you now that I have possessed animals at least a dozen times during my life, and have found it to be an unsurpassed method of gathering information."
Harry practiced first on mammals, rats and mice provided by Fawkes, as humans generally could possess mammals more easily than other species. As Dumbledore promised him, the act of possessing the animal did not prove to be particularly difficult, and most any witch or wizard of average talent could accomplish it with a bit of practice. Snakes, however, provided a different challenge, and few wizards tried to possess them, and fewer still succeeded. Dumbledore himself cautioned Harry that he had great difficulty with reptiles in general, and snakes in particular.
Fawkes had set a four foot asp on the table, and Harry studied it with no fear. Instead without thinking, Harry decided to speak to it, feeling it to be the most natural thing to do.
"Hello," he hissed in Parseltongue, instinctively knowing the formal manner of speech used by snakes, "I apologize for the manner in which you came to this place. We intend you no harm but seek your assistance." The snake jerked its head momentarily in shock.
"Who are you, human, that dare to speak our language? Only the dark one speaks the language of the adder. If you are a friend of the dark one, then you are no friend of mine. I shall not assist you."
Dumbledore examined the scene in fascination, Parseltongue being one of the few areas of magic in which he had no knowledge. Even when possessing a snake, a wizard could not understand its language. The headmaster often wondered if a wizard would be able to learn the language if a teacher could be found, but of course until Harry came along, no teacher candidates existed. With a hint of sadness, Dumbledore regretted that his life approached its end, and that he would not be able to delve into one more of the hidden secrets of magic.
"I am no friend of the dark one," hissed Harry, "No, I am his enemy. His sworn enemy, and it is my destiny to defeat him. But I need your assistance, for I must make contact with the dark one's companion, Nagini."
The conversation lasted for several minutes as the thin snake, naturally doubtful, had to be convinced to help Harry. Of course, Harry could have possessed the snake with our without its consent, but Harry sensed that this snake could be of much greater use to him if it cooperated voluntarily. Finally he convinced the slender snake, which agreed to allow itself to be possessed. Harry briefly explained what had happened to Dumbledore.
"Excellent!" cried the headmaster, "You are becoming wise beyond your years, Harry. Always seek to make an ally when possible, for you never know when the alliance may save your life."
Possessing an animal combined a form of apparation with entry into the animal through a spell during the act of disappearing. Once Harry had the timing down, he found it to be quite easy, at least with mammals and birds. Harry stood as the snake eyed him intently; he turned and disappeared with a quiet crack silently reciting the incantation, "Portus animagus."
This definitely did feel different than the other animals, especially having no legs, but Harry realized that he felt perfectly comfortable in the snake's body, more so than in the mammals. Possessing an animal differed from being an animagus, Dumbledore had explained, as an animagus IS the animal, and has no difficulty controlling its movements. Possession requires some practice, and each animal feels different. A wizard may feel entirely at home in one type of animal while struggling to control another. Also, the animal being possessed remains, and can struggle against the possessing wizard. Normally a wizard has much greater power than the animal and can overcome any resistance, but such is not always true of snakes, which are renowned for their strength of mind.
Fortunately for Harry, he did not need to struggle with this particular snake, which voluntarily allowed itself to be possessed. He could feel the mind of the snake alongside his own, and he slithered along the table to gain the feel of being a snake. The longer he remained in possession of the snake, the more he felt at home, to the point where he thought it would not have been so bad to be a snake. Eventually he tired, for possession of an animal requires constant effort and normally can only be sustained for fifteen minutes or half an hour. Leaving the animal was as simple as relaxing one's grip on a cup, and in an instant Harry returned to the sofa, tired but satisfied. All of the elements had been set in place.
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Throughout Britain, turmoil reigned. Shops and businesses shut down, moving their inventory to safer locations. The darkest elements of the magical world, confined to such places as Knockturn Alley in the past, emerged from their lairs to wreak havoc. Muggles noticed the many unexplained events - dead bodies of perfectly healthy people; suspicious fires where no source could be determined; automobiles veering across traffic at impossible angles, causing huge traffic jams. Wizarding families dealt with the bleak future in their own ways. Many left the country, moving to the continent or even to America. Others moved to new locations within Britain, hoping to be ignored by the new power. At the least, families placed additional magical protections on their homes. The magical world held its breath.
Two wizards, however, appeared to be calm in the face of turmoil. Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter sat contentedly in an Italian restaurant not far from the flat. The professor felt relatively well and convinced Harry to join him for the meal, though Harry worried about their safety. Just to be safe, Dumbledore changed Harry's hair to a dirty blond, which after several rounds of laughter, Harry decided did not look so bad. Only on rare occasions had Harry eaten in muggle restaurants during his childhood, as the Dursleys rarely ate out, and when they did, they most certainly did not bring Harry along. Dumbledore, on the other hand, appeared to have frequented muggle eateries, for unlike most wizards, he knew exactly how to order and act.
Both agreed that Harry was as ready as he ever would be. At the flat, they discussed his next moves, but at the restaurant they talked about everything but business. Dinner like this with the man he most admired in the world had to be savored, Harry knew, so he tried to think of everything he ever wanted to ask the old man.
"I understand that the Potters were a pure blood family from way back. How long have you known them?"
Wizards, of course, live much longer lives than muggles, and Dumbledore had exceeded the normal life span of a wizard, by now well over 150 years old. Harry figured the old man would have known several generations of Potters.
"Well, the Potters definitely qualified as a pure blood family, but never of the extremely snobbish sort like the Blacks or Malfoys. Still, the Potters lived in London, a part of the social elite of that era. As we have discussed, the wizarding world differed greatly from today - I'm talking about the 1850's, 60's and 70's, when I was a boy and young man. The elite families considered my family a bit eccentric. Although my parents were wizard and witch, there had been intermarriage in previous generations, so our purity of blood was somewhat questionable. We did not care a whit, of course, but the London pure bloods tended to shy away from us, including the Potters. Understand, Harry, that this occurred long before Voldemort or even Grindelwald; no movement to eliminate non-pure bloods existed, but from a social viewpoint, you only mattered if you could show your pristine blood lines. The Potter clan did not differ in that regard from any other of the elite families."
"Do you know any of their names?" Harry asked, wondering why he had never asked the professor about this before.
"I met a number of Potters over the years, but I never befriended any of them until your father. I recall an elderly man, Jeremiah Potter, in my youth. Bald with a long white beard. He impressed me with how old he looked, much as I must impress you now," Dumbledore grinned knowingly. "He must have been your great, great, great grandfather, though I may be missing a great in there."
And so they passed the evening, the calm before the storm. Harry learned several names of his ancestors, but Dumbledore knew little of them before James, Harry's father. Of his mother's family, the professor knew virtually nothing, as he had not met with them after she received her Hogwarts letter. Of course, Harry already knew something of his mother's family, having been sentenced to live with her sister.
"I wish we could stay here forever, Professor," Harry sighed as they prepared to return to the flat, "I think of what we have to do, and I just can't believe that something won't go wrong."
"No doubt something will go wrong, Harry. Rarely have I ever completed a plan exactly as plotted. Almost always some split-second decision needs to be made. You must trust that when the time comes, you will make the right decision." Dumbledore paid the bill, and the two wizards, now true friends, prepared to leave. Harry left his seat to help the frail man out of his, providing support to his arm.
"Thank you, Harry," the elderly man grunted as he struggled to straighten his back. He then looked Harry straight in the eye. "Merlin, I wish I could go with you!"
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The snake had agreed to wait at Dumbledore's flat, and though it easily could have slithered under the door, it in fact remained. Harry gently lifted the snake onto the kitchen table, taking a seat himself, and for the first time in his life, he had a true conversation with a serpent.
"Thank you for waiting for us," Harry hissed, realizing that he did not know the snake's name. "How are you called?" The slender serpent did not appear to understand, so Harry tried to explain, "Wizards call me Harry Potter, and he is Professor Dumbledore. What do snakes call you?"
Bending its head in understanding, the snake hissed quietly, "They call me Issamir. I am of the clan of Slisharem. I have heard your name, Harry Potter; you are well known to all serpents in this land. All know the names of the snake wizard and of Harry Potter. I am honored to know you, for I am a lowly and unimportant being. There are many of greater importance in my clan. Perhaps I should take you to them, so that you can use the services of a more talented serpent."
"No," Harry hissed in response, "You have proven your valor, for you allowed me to enter your body and for my mind to exist alongside yours. That is true bravery, and you must not underestimate your worth. What you have agreed to do will be extremely dangerous; however, our world and your world depend on our success."
Harry carefully placed Issamir in the pocket of his robe and returned to Grimmauld Place. Turning into the kitchen, he saw Remus sitting at the table with a cup of tea, conversing with Arthur Weasley. They both carried morose expressions, and Harry knew the news could not be positive. Remus arose and grabbed Harry's hand with extra strength.
"It's been too long, Harry."
Harry could not agree more. The two had not seen each other since August, and both had been to hell and back, though neither knew the hell of the other. Remus had continued to age rapidly, with lines creasing his deeply weathered face, and grey streaks more pronounced in his hair. Though Harry's appearance had improved since the worst of the Slytherin's locket fallout, Remus could not help but notice the toll taken on the young man. Harry also shook Arthur's hand, whose hair displayed more grey than just a few months before, and the men gestured to a chair. After placing a cup of tea in front of Harry, the men returned to their seats.
"We've all been worried about you," Remus commented, "Molly even wanted us to try to find you, but Hermione and Ron insisted that we do nothing. I won't bother to ask where you've been."
Vaguely smiling, Harry nodded his thanks, "I appreciate that, Remus, though I can tell you that my time has been well spent. What's been happening since the attack on the Ministry?"
"There've been attacks all over the country," Arthur replied reluctantly, for Remus appeared too weary to give a detailed explanation, "Wizards and witches are scattering. With few exceptions, families have left their homes and gone into hiding. Some have found safe houses, such as us, while others have tried to melt into the muggle world. Many are leaving the country. Minister Scrimgeour has had to remain in hiding, the Prophet could not publish yesterday, and nobody is providing any meaningful resistance to the death eaters. The Order of the Phoenix essentially does not exist, as everyone is tending to their own affairs and is afraid to gather together. Does that give you an idea, Harry?" Harry had never heard Mr. Weasley, normally an optimistic and enthusiastic man, sound so defeated.
Indeed, the young wizard understood all too well, and the pressure of his burden suddenly bore down on his shoulders even more heavily.
"Did Snape know about Voldemort's plans?" Harry asked, for he and Dumbledore had openly wondered
"Not a thing," answered Remus, "We questioned him earlier under veritaserum, and he knew nothing about an attack on the Ministry. Either Voldemort planned this after Snape was lost to him, or he never included him in the plot. We tend to think the latter; basically Voldemort was willing to sacrifice Snape, or perhaps did not entirely trust him. We found out some interesting information, but nothing especially helpful. Voldemort took great care with our dear Professor Snape." Remus' weary voice dripped with pessimism.
"What's Voldemort doing?" Harry inquired, "Has he made any public statements? Do we know what he wants?"
"Not a word from him," Arthur answered, still not daring to say the name of the dark lord, "but we understand that he is studying the Ministry offices carefully. As you know, there are many classified objects and documents there, though we managed to remove or secure the most important of them. Nevertheless, it's a terrible loss for us."
Harry sipped his tea automatically, not knowing what to say. His new world had crumbled. Unlike other wizards, he did not have the option of melting into the muggle world. Voldemort would pursue him from the highest mountain to the deepest sea. The die had been cast, and Harry's plan, though full of holes, was his only hope. He needed to talk to Hermione and Ron.
His comrades sat stunned, incapable of speech. Harry Potter had just detailed a plan of action which most likely would result in his death. And probably theirs.
"You're really serious, aren't you?" Ron asked disbelievingly.
"Of course I am," Harry answered, a bit put off by the question, "Look, I know it's a risky plan, but everything we've done so far has been risky. There is no safe way. Caution will get us nowhere."
"But you're talking about entering his mind, Harry," Hermione emphasized, finally finding her voice. Her attempt to remain seated in Harry's bedroom, where the three met, failed, and she began pacing the room. At another time, Harry would have found it humorous. "You practice Legilimency for a few days, and you think you're an expert. We're not talking about just anybody; this is Lord Voldemort. He can probably block you in a second. And who knows what he'll do to you in revenge? He could kill you, Harry."
"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Hermione; it's inspiring," Harry responded sarcastically, "but he can't kill me that way. Don't you think he would have done it already if that was possible? No, he can try to get into my mind and cause me a lot of pain, but this time I can defend myself. And I can also give as good as I get. He won't like me inside of his head any more than I like him inside of mine." His eyes glared at the thought, causing Hermione to shiver.
"But what good will it do?" Ron interjected, his leg hanging over the arm of a chair, "I mean, we need to figure out whether he made another horcrux. Won't he block you out before you have a chance to find out."
"Not if I do it right. I know how to bring thoughts to the front of the brain. If I can do it as soon as I get in, Voldemort won't be able to block me out until I have seen it. And if he does, then at least he knows that he's not safe, that I can attack his mind as easily as he can attack mine. Psychological warfare, you could call it." Harry had learned that term from Professor Dumbledore.
"That's if you can survive Nagini. Where's this snake you've told us about? How do we know it won't betray you?" an exasperated Hermione asked.
Harry hissed incomprehensively and in a few moments, the small serpent slithered out from under the wardrobe, and Harry and it made eye contact.
"This is Issamir. He has agreed to help me." Hermione and Ron stared mutely at the unimpressive snake. Should they say hello to it, they wondered.
Finally Hermione commented, "Isn't he kind of small, Harry?"
"I want him to be small. We need to be able to get around without being seen. Issamir is good at that. It makes no sense to be a basilisk or something like that. They'd see us right away. No, in this case, smaller is better."
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, and Harry could see that they remained unconvinced. He stood up, lifting Issamir in his hands.
"I am going to the Ministry tomorrow night. I am no longer discussing that. I would really appreciate it if you could help me. But this is it! One way or the other, we are reaching the end of the game. We can't wait any longer. Voldemort is taking over. Every day we wait, the worse it will be. He's looking for something at the Ministry, and if he finds it, who knows what will happen. There's no more time to wait."
Harry's impassioned plea finally won over his friends.
"We better do some planning then," Hermione sighed.