Chapter 7 – Back at Hogwarts
"Harry," said Rose Walcot, drawing a quick-quotes quill out of her bag, "May I first say, on behalf of all of us at the Daily Prophet and the wizarding world at large, how very glad we all are to see you alright."
"Thanks," Harry replied, leaning back in his chair eyeing the quick-quotes quill warily. Rose smiled.
"Don't worry, I'm not like Rita, I like to keep to the facts if possible," she reassured Harry, who relaxed a little. "Now, the big question I suppose is a simple one: what happened at Twybrook?"
"Well," Harry started, frowning slightly, "I had just caught the snitch and I turned to see the Dark Mark shining below me. Then there was a deep booming voice who cast the summoning charm. The word it used was "Andromida", which apparently referred to the ring on my hand. My wedding ring." Rose leaned back and let out a low whistle, her quill rushing across the parchment on the coffee table.
"Your wedding ring?" she echoed him disbelievingly, "how do you know it was that? How could it have got there?" Harry deliberated for a moment, before deciding on the truth.
"I'll answer the second question first, and that is simply that we don't know. We are investigating whether there was a switch at some point or whether it was planted before the wedding. I can't say more about that I'm afraid. As for how I know it was that, it was simply because it was that ring that dragged me down and out of the stadium."
Rose nodded, obviously trying to imagine how that would have felt. "So you were summoned out of the stadium. Where did you wake up?"
Harry pictured the cell that had been his prison. "I awoke in a cell no bigger than this room we're currently in," he gestured around the room in which they were sat; a small study room on the first floor of the offices belonging to the Daily Prophet. "Sadly without the comfortable chairs... It was obviously deep underground; the walls were made of rock and had the feeling of having been hewn from the earth around it. The air also had that stale edge that any enclosed space develops. I eventually found out that it was on the lowest level of a series of tunnels that formed a sort of lair."
"And who was it who was in the lair? Your captors I mean." Rose leaned forwards slightly in anticipation of the answer.
"Death Eaters." Harry said it baldly, knowing full well the reaction it would elicit from the reporter opposite him, who did not disappoint with a gasp and a look conveying both shock and an element of fear. "A group of Death Eaters named the Secret Elite, a hidden group of wizards known to only a very select few of Voldemort's supporters." Rose surprised Harry by not giving the twitch the most people gave upon hearing Voldemort's name, but Harry supposed Voldemort's downfall had released some of the fear associated with it.
"What can you tell me about this "Secret Elite"?" she asked with a slight sense of hesitancy, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
"Well, I can give you two names, the two leaders of the Secret Elite; Andromidus and Regalus Black, cousin and brother respectively of Sirius Black," he said, and he couldn't help a small pang of sadness at the mention of Sirius. "My godfather."
"Sirius Black's relatives?" Rose repeated incredulously, her quill zipping from left to right across the parchment. Harry quickly explained most of what he knew about Andromidus and Regalus, leaving out only a few bits of information which Dumbledore had told him to keep to himself. He continued by explaining what had happened in the lair, about Neville and their escape. He concluded the interview as Dumbledore had instructed him.
"So," he said, adjusting himself slightly in his seat, "the main point for the wizarding world at large to remember is this: be vigilant. Although we do not think this group is as bad as Voldemort himself" [although Harry – thinking of Andromidus - knew this was possibly untrue] "they are still dangerous enough to require raised awareness. People must ensure that they inform the Aurors if anything unusual occurs, and must be on the lookout for any potential Death Eater activity. It could save your life." Harry knew that this last sentence was a bit too strong as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late to take it back, and so he tried to rectify it. "That said, the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix are well placed and will act to their usual high standards in protecting the wizarding world."
"Well Harry, thank you for taking the time to talk to the Daily Prophet and once again, we all very glad to see you safe and sound," Rose said, though Harry sensed that she was dictating to her quill as much as to him. He thanked her anyway and shook her hand before leaving the room. Once outside the building, a vast stone edifice set against a backdrop of rolling Yorkshire countryside, he apparated back to Hogsmeade.
*
Later that afternoon Harry strode up the sweeping Hogwarts lawn overlooking the lake, the forest skirting the far side. He felt it odd that there were no students around in such a bright summer day, before reminding himself that the term was not due to start for almost a week. He had been summoned to see Professor Dumbledore to discuss, Harry assumed, living arrangements to be made. Before the doors to the entrance hall even became in sight, a deep voice boomed his name from the edge of the forest.
"HARRY!" he turned to see Hagrid jogging towards him, Fang bounding ahead. Harry braced himself for impact as Fang jumped towards him licking furiously, before Hagrid gently brushed Fang aside and then caught Harry in a not-so-gentle hug.
"Dozy dog," he said, pulling away with a broad smile on his face. "How've yeh been?"
Harry surreptitiously rubbed his aching chest. "Not bad thanks Hagrid, just coming up to see Professor Dumbledore."
"Yeah, he did mention you were coming," said Hagrid looking excited. "Moving back to Hogwarts?"
Harry couldn't help but smile back, rolling his eyes slightly. He looked up at the familiar turrets towering above him, a warm glow of safety and memories bubbling inside him. "Yes, I think so. Not sure staying at Godric's Hollow is very wise at the moment, after what happened with Neville."
"Aye," Hagrid agreed, nodding sagely, "I was a bit shaken by that myself. Good kid, Neville."
"Definitely," Harry replied, turning his gaze back to Hagrid. "Not sure where I'll be staying yet."
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore's got sommat planned for you," Hagrid said conspiratorially, and Harry suspected that Hagrid already knew what was going on. He tapped his nose softly before saying goodbye, retreating with Fang back towards his cabin beside the lake. Harry, shaking his head slightly in amusement, proceeded up towards the castle.
He followed the somewhat familiar route from the Entrance Hall towards Dumbledore's office. His footsteps echoed around the walls, a sound Harry would once have found eerie, but now seemed reassuring. He reached the stone gargoyles that flanked the entrance towards Dumbledore's office.
"Rock cakes," he said clearly to the gargoyles, remembering with a smile the password Dumbledore had given him. The pathway opened ahead of him and he moved on to the spiral staircase, which slowly carried him up to the headmaster's office. He knocked on the thick wooden door.
"Come in," Professor Dumbledore's voice filtered through the door, and Harry walked into the office. Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, eyes dancing behind those half-moon glasses. "Welcome, welcome," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk, "I trust your interview went well?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied, though his stomach gave a tiny lurch of guilt. "I think I may have said something a bit... err..."
"Heavy?" supplied Dumbledore, a knowing smile on his face. "Do not worry, I already have read a copy of the interview, sent to me by Ms Walcot, and I can assure you that you have said nothing amiss. What you have said will set people on the alert, whilst the ending comment about the Aurors will prevent a panic. You have nothing to worry about."
Harry relaxed in his chair. The office was the same as always; portraits hanging around the walls (some of whose occupants were listening in); the spindly silver instruments that sat on Dumbledore's desk; and the beautiful Phoenix perched on top of a rail beside the desk. Fawkes was obviously in the prime of his life cycle, and he swooped down and sat upon Harry's knee. Harry stroked him absentmindedly.
"He has always been rather fond of you hasn't he?" observed Dumbledore, smiling gently at Harry. "He does not do that for many people." Harry's cheeks flushed a bit, and Dumbledore smiled yet more widely.
"Well Harry, I suspect you wish to know as to what living arrangements you and Mrs Potter shall be using this year?" Harry nodded, the words "Mrs Potter" sending a thrill through his body, despite the fact that he had heard them many times before. Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and continued. "Well, Mrs Potter must stay in the Gryffindor tower, having missed last year I fear not putting her back would distance her from her classmates. I am afraid, however, that I do not think you should sleep in there. The fact that you are not studying yet are staying in Gryffindor tower would arouse much curiosity both within and without Hogwarts, and I think would act as too much of a distraction to the students."
"So where will I be staying?" Harry asked, a bit crestfallen. Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile before rising to his feet.
"Let us go and find out shall we?" he gestured towards the door. Puzzled, Harry opened the door and allowed Dumbledore to pass through, before following him out onto the spiral staircase. At the bottom of the spiral staircase Dumbledore led Harry through the winding Hogwarts corridors down towards the entrance hall. Before Harry could ask where they were going, Dumbledore had opened the main gates and was striding out onto the lawn. He paused on a patch of grass overlooking the lake, and extended a long finger ahead of him towards the far side of the golden water, upon which the reflection of the setting sun danced energetically in the giant-squid-induced ripples. Dumbledore let out a soft cough as he gestured forward.
"There is a small hut set on the other side of the lake," said Dumbledore, smiling and inclining his head at Harry. "If you should so wish, may I suggest that you assist Hagrid with his game-keeping duties? I am sure he would be most glad of your assistance." Harry grinned, but he thought he could spot a small flaw in Dumbledore's logic.
"Sir," he said slowly, choosing his words with care, "if people were going to be curious inside and outside Hogwarts if I stayed inside Gryffindor tower, why would they be less curious if I stayed here? Surely my position here would still arouse curiosity?" Dumbledore smiled.
"If you are living out here Harry, the pretext can be given that you have volunteered to help Hagrid, whereas inside the castle this impression would evaporate very quickly." He gave Harry a small wink. "Though I do not doubt that there will be some curiosity." He conjured two chairs out of the air and he and Harry sat down overlooking the magnificent Hogwarts scenery.
"Now Harry," said Dumbledore in a business like tone, "there is another topic upon which I would like your opinion." Harry sat up a little straighter in his chair. "If you will consent, I would like it for you to take private lessons with me again this year."
Harry, who had not been expecting this at all, shifted in his seat. "What type of lessons Professor?" Dumbledore considered the end of his long, slender fingers as if seeing them for the first time.
"I would like to teach you to communicate with the next realm," he said simply, moving his gaze from his fingers to Harry's eyes. "Recent events have shown that, not only do we need to communicate with people such as Sirius more often to gather information, but also that my mind is not quite what it used to be. My mistake in forgetting the Secret Elite was a grave one, one which I do not think I would have made had I been a few years younger."
"It was perfectly understandable sir," Harry responded quickly, slightly alarmed at the sense of his own weakness that Dumbledore seemed to be feeling. "I don't blame you; there was a lot going on at the time." Dumbledore let out a soft sigh.
"I thank you for your kind words," said Dumbledore, with that ominous air of imminent and disagreeing finality in his voice, "but I cannot accept that reasoning. The fault lies with me and it is almost entirely for that reason that I should teach you how to correspond with the world of the dead. Understand me Harry, I am not afraid of death, nor do I feel that old age is going to directly be my downfall anytime soon. However I must admit that it has slowed me; slowed my reactions. I am not convinced that a duel with Andromidus or Regalus would result in victory."
Harry was terrified. He had never, in all his years of knowing Dumbledore, ever heard him sound so pessimistic. Everything with Dumbledore had always been positive; the encouragement and overwhelming sense of caring which he always exuded had somehow been flattened, and the feeling of doubt which Harry was now witnessing and hearing scared him more than anything he had ever faced in his life.
"Professor..." he said, trying to form a reassuring sentence but finding himself incapable of speech. Dumbledore seemed to understand.
"I am sorry Harry," he said with a wistful smile at Harry; some of the old sparkle back in his eye, "that must have sounded terribly defeatist. I will let you go down and see your cabin, I think I can see Hagrid waiting for you." And without another word, he swept away towards the castle, leaving Harry sitting in stunned silence.