Title:Harry Potter: Four In One
Author:Joshua
Disclaimer:J.K. Rowling created Harry James Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Hogwarts, the whole gosh-darn HP-universe and wrote the 7 "Harry Potter" books that we all love and enjoy. Spoilers for Book 1, and Book 7. In fact there may even be some direct quotes from Book 7, so be warned. I'm not writing this for profit, I may not even let anybody but my dearest and closest friends even read this and they'll get it for free, so thankfully this won't get me sued or anything. Everything AFTER Chapter Nine in Book 7 is going to be changed anyway and even those chapters that I do quote, they won't be quoted very well or for very long as I'm changing EVERYTHING after those points. Assume, for Wizard-Harry, that everything between the stated timelines in Book 1 and Book 7 is identical to what happened in the rest of the Books and the HP-universe. Also, for this one chapter here, there are a LOT of direct quotes from the book, specifically the chapter "Kreacher's Tale" just so you know. Tamora Pierce is the awesome author of the "Circle of Magic" books that 'Mage-Harry' is taken from, and of course I don't own Winding Circle nor the concepts of Academic and Ambient Magic. Any future Spy-Magic you might see is going to be exactly like the Battle Magic so far, an amalgamation of numerous sources that might not even be 'magic' on their own, but have been twisted in such a way by me. You have been warned.
Summary:A mysterious stranger interferes in the timeline and in Harry's life, splitting the young wizard into four and giving each a different magical education. Wizard, Warrior, Mage, and Spy.
Story:
"What the bloody hell was THAT?!" Hermione screeched once they had reappeared at their destination, the foyer of 12 Grimmauld Place. Which of course snapped open those tattered curtains at the end of the hall and just as the old painting was taking a metaphorical breath to start it's usual diatribe, Harry was suddenly right in front of it, and punched a hole through it and the wall behind it, just missing Mrs. Black's feet.
"Shut. Up." Harry growled at the painting, who was deathly pale, and did not make a sound as Harry closed the curtains back over it.
"That, Hermione," Harry spoke with sudden exhaustion and annoyance at the painting, "was true teleportation. Not Apparition, not a Portkey, nothing from the Wizarding world, and therefore nothing that the wards put in place by Wizards can account for. Take a look around, get comfortable," he told them grandly, "Recognize the place? I need some place private to..."
He was momentarily interrupted by a "ghost" of Albus Dumbledore bearing down on them, screaming in Moody's voice, "SNAPE! SEVERUS SNAPE!"
"Good God, Mad-Eye, is that the best you could come up with?" Harry snarled in disgust. With a snap of his fingers, the ghost froze and then sort of flickered, before disappearing entirely and the sound effects from the ceiling faded with a crackling pop.
"Harry, I think it's time we sat down and had a long talk," Hermione snapped at him.
"I agree, which is why I brought us here to do just that," he said. "First things first, lets everybody go grab a room. The Order, for very well known reasons, are no longer using this place, so there should be plenty of space for all of us. And since it really is only the four of us, we don't have to bunk up like the last time."
"But..." Hermione tried to protest.
"Settle in first, talk later, all right?" She finally acquiesced and lead the way upstairs, handing the others their trunks and other things before leaving.
"And while you're doing that," Harry said to himself after they'd left, "I'm going to see about restructuring Dumbledore's little hiding spell here..."
Fifteen minutes later, they all settled down in the kitchen. After the others had gotten settled in, and Harry had gone all over the old home and methodically removed the current Fidelius charm and replacing it with an equivalent, but significantly altered spell the produced the same effect. Catch was, instead of having a 'Secret-Keeper' that could then tell others, this spell took out the human-factor and was based solely on recognizing a set and specific criteria, namely the magic core of those that Harry 'authorized' to know of 12 Grimmauld Place. It was one of the spells he'd had to master shortly after leaving Winding Circle to gain specialized training in Intelligence/Counter-Intelligence Sorcery. Also called Spy Magic for short.
"All right Harry, it's time for some answers," Hermione demanded.
"She's right mate," Ron added. "We've let it go for now, and we're grateful that you told us as much as you have, especially about that whole being split into four thing. But you've been going around like you've got some master plan here, and it's time to let us in on it."
"Unfortunately," Harry said after a healthy pause, "what happened tonight pretty much destroyed whatever plans I had been making. If we go after the Horcruxes too soon, Tommy-boy is going to figure out that we've got his number, and he'll start guarding the ones that we can't get to easily enough, or he'll do the stupid thing and start making more and hiding them in places we'll never get to."
"Furthermore, the whole point of me fighting and wiping out all those Death Eaters the day you came to retrieve me from Privet Drive, was to discourage them from trying anything like this. Maybe I should have joined up with the Ministry, at least publicly. It might have actually kept this from happening. Still, I thought that seeing a almost-17-year-old doing things that were impossible and taking it to their boss like that... it would have woken them up and had them do the smart thing and hold back from doing something stupid. Like taking over the Ministry in a coupe."
"Now... things are too volatile, to unstable for us to do anything. We have to stay here for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. Let things settle down a bit before trying something," he told them.
"WHAT!?" Ron screamed.
"No way!" Ginny was just as incensed.
"We still need to complete Dumbledore's mission, Harry!" Hermione added her two cents. "We have to find and retrieve the Horcruxes and destroy them!"
"The cup is in the Lestrange Vault at Gringotts, the Diadem of Ravenclaw is in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, Mundungus Fletcher pawned the locket away, and Nagini does not leave her master's side for even a moment! We can't just go out the door and pick them up from a couple of vendors here! I know where they are, I just need time to figure out how to get them, all right Hermione?"
She flinched from his tone, but nodded her understanding all the same. Harry sighed, letting the silence fill the room. "Something that I didn't remember until I was going over the house myself. RAB, the initials left in the fake Horcrux. Regulus Arcturus Black, Sirius's Death Eater brother that was killed by the Dark Lord himself. Saw his room during my wanderings." He added at their looks of confusion.
"One thing that I never figured out though," he said, "was how he got it in the first place. I mean even Dumbledore needed one other person... with... him..." Harry trailed off, his mind working at four thousand times its normal speed as he came to a startling revelation. Regulus had not been alone in getting the Locket Horcrux.
"Kreacher!" Harry called out suddenly, startling his friends.
There was a loud crack and the house elf that Harry had so reluctantly inherited from Sirius appeared out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his batlike ears. He was still wearing the filthy rag in which they had first met him, and the contemptuous look he bent upon Harry showed that his attitude to his change of ownership had altered no more than his outfit.
"Master," croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bowed low; muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood –"
"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,'" growled Harry. He would have found Kreacher, with his snout-like nose and bloodshot eyes, a distinctively pitiful creature if not for the fact that the elf had betrayed Sirius to Voldemort.
"I've got a question for you," said Harry, his heart beating rather fast as he looked down at the elf, "and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"
"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, bowing low again. Harry saw his lips moving soundlessly, undoubtedly framing the insults he was now forbidden to utter.
"Two years ago," said Harry, his heart now hammering against his ribs, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"
There was a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, "Yes."
"Where is it now?" asked Harry patiently as Ron and Hermione looked gleeful. Ginny looked confused.
Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word. "Gone."
"Gone?" echoed Harry, "What do you mean, it's gone?"
The elf shivered. He swayed.
"Kreacher," said Harry warningly.
"Mundungus Fletcher," croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut. "Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and... and..."
Kreacher was gulping for air: His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flew open and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream. "...And the locket, Master Regulus's locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"
Harry reacted instinctively. As Kreacher lunged for the poker standing in the grate, he launched himself upon the elf, flattening him. Hermione's scream mingled with Kreacher's but Harry bellowed louder than both of them. "Kreacher, I order you to stay still!"
He felt the elf freeze and released him. Kreacher lay flat on the cold stone floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes. "Harry, let him up!" Hermione whispered.
"So he can beat himself up with the poker?" snorted Harry, kneeling beside the elf. "I don't think so. Right. Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"
"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran…"
"You called the locket 'Master Regulus's,'" said Harry. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"
The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but quite distinct in the silent, echoing kitchen.
"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns…and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve…"
"And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said…he said…" The old elf rocked faster than ever "…he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."
"He needed an elf?" Harry repeated, looking around at the others, who looked just as puzzled as he did.
"Oh yes," moaned Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do…and then to c-come home." Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.
"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake…"
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. Kreacher's croaking voice seemed to come to him from across the dark water. He saw what had happened as clearly as though he had been present.
"…There was a boat…"
Of course there had been a boat; Harry knew the boat, ghostly green and tiny, bewitched so as to carry one wizard and one victim toward the island in the center. This, then, was how Voldemort had tested the defenses surrounding the Horcrux, by borrowing a disposable creature, a house-elf…
"There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it…" The elf quaked from head to foot. "Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible things…Kreacher's insides burned…Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed…He made Kreacher drink all the potion…He dropped a locket into the empty basin…He filled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island…"
Harry could see it happening. He watched Voldemort's white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim…But here, Harry's imagination could go no further, for he could not see how Kreacher had escaped.
"Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake…and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…"
"How did you get away?" Harry asked, and he was not surprised to hear himself whispering.
Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back... Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back. The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intoned Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home…"
"Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" said Hermione kindly. "You didn't disobey orders at all!"
Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.
"So what happened when you got back?" Harry asked. "What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?"
"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then…it was a little while later…Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell…and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord…"
And so they had set off. Harry could visualize them quite clearly, the frightened old elf and the thin, dark Seeker who had so resembled Sirius…Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat: this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison…
"And he made you drink the poison?" said Harry, disgusted.
But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Hermione's hands leapt to her mouth. She seemed to have understood something.
"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…"
Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him.
"And he ordered – Kreacher to leave – without him. And he told Kreacher – to go home – and never to tell my Mistress – what he had done – but to destroy – the first locket. And he drank – all the potion – and Kreacher swapped the lockets – and watched…as Master Regulus… was dragged beneath the water…and…"
"Oh, Kreacher!" wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.
"The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?"
"I told you not to call her 'Mudblood'!" snapped Harry, but the elf was already punishing himself. He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.
"Stop him – stop him!" Hermione cried. "Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"
"Kreacher – stop, stop!" shouted Harry.
The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snot, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears. Harry had never seen anything so pitiful.
"So you brought the locket home," he said relentlessly, for he was determined to know the full story. "And you tried to destroy it?"
"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work…So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open… Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave…"
Kreacher began to sob so hard that there were no more coherent words. Tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she watched Kreacher, but she did not dare touch him again. Even Ron, who was no fan of Kreacher's, looked troubled. Ginny looked like she was about to be sick really. Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head, trying to clear it.
"I don't understand you, Kreacher," he said finally. "Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them…"
"Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that," said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "He's a slave. House-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment. What Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say," she went on as Harry began to protest, "that Regulus changed his mind…but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was just trying to protect them all."
"Sirius–" Harry tried to say, but she interrupted him.
"Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for such a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did…and so did Sirius."
Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius's death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's…
"Kreacher," said Harry after a while, "when you feel up to it, er…please sit up." It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccuped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.
As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet, Harry had a sudden inspiration. He pulled out Hagrid's purse and took out the fake Horcrux, the substitute locket in which Regulus had placed the note to Voldemort.
"Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this," he said, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. "This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you—"
"Overkill, mate," said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.
Kreacher was still sobbing his tiny old heart out after his tale of woe, and Harry just didn't have it in him to really do anything else. They put him back into his "nest" for the night, and then Harry lead the way up to the bedrooms so they could all get some rest.
"You're not getting out of our talk that easily, Mr. Potter," Hermione warned him.
"I know that, but it's late, we've all had a long day, and on top of the story we just had to sit through, do you think any of us are capable of handling more? We'll talk in the morning, Hermione, I promise," he told her. "But for right now, we need sleep. Now nothing much was changed after the Order abandoned this place, so the beds should all still be in the same place. Until we figure out more later on, let's just all go back to the beds we had the last time and get some sleep. We'll worry the details in the morning, all right?"
Looking reluctant, but just as tired as the rest of them, Hermione finally agreed and they all went to bed.
12 Grimmauld Place
Next Morning
"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry gratefully accepted the surprisingly pleasing breakfast from the ancient House Elf. He was the first one served, seeing as he was the "heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black", but he wasn't the only one at the table. Ron had nearly double his own portion placed in front of him, Ginny was to his right and served right after himself, and Hermione next to Ron and served last. Not that she either noticed or cared since she was, even now, pouring over her 'inheritance' from Dumbledore.
"Found anything yet, Hermione?" he asked as he tore into breakfast.
"Nothing that makes much sense. Beyond the obvious that is," she replied, before putting the book away and focusing on her own meal. "Now are you going to tell us what your 'master plan' is Harry, or are you going to go all mysterious on us like Dumbledore did?"
"Heaven forbid," Harry chuckled.
"Right now," he admitted, "the plan is to give us a few days rest. Also to flesh out your training. We can't do a lot of running in here, so we'll have to supplement. Don't give me those looks. I honestly expected Voldemort to hold his forces off from any type of coupe. The fact that he didn't just allow it, but took the initiative to be the figurehead at the center of it threw off whatever plans I had made. Plus, Ron and Ginny's home was just attacked, Bill and Fleur's wedding was almost ruined, and you haven't spoken to your parents in how long now? We need to take a few days and regroup."
"That doesn't mean we can't be making plans for the future!" Hermione snapped.
"Of course not," Harry agreed casually. "Hence why your training will continue. We aren't taking a vacation here, we're just not doing anything to actively antagonize our current position. We're fugitives now. The Ministry was just overthrown last night. Vol—" Harry stopped talking. He frowned and looked around, like he'd heard some kind of noise. "Vol... de... What the hell?"
"Harry? Everything all right?" Ron asked, concerned.
Harry just held up his hand for silence. "Volde... SON OF A BITCH!" he suddenly screamed.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, shocked at his language.
"Sorry, it's just..." Harry started to apologize before losing his temper all over again, "DAMN BUGGERING ARSEHOLE!"
"Harry!" Ginny shouted to get his attention. "What is it?"
"They've set up a Taboo!" he snarled. "On Tommy-boy's 'chosen' name. Let's try this; Moldy-Shorts. Moldy-Wart. Tom Riddle. Tommy-boy. Riddle. OK, nothing. New house rule. None of that You-Know-Who crap, all right? Instead, if we're talking about him, come up with something creative. Or just call him Riddle, or Tom, or Tommy-boy. But, unfortunately, we can no longer use the V-word itself."
"Why not?" Hermione asked, still very confused.
"They set up a Taboo?" Ron was aghast. "Damn blighters!"
"A Taboo, Hermione, is basically when the Ministry casts a large-scale spell on a specific word or phrase. Whenever somebody says the specified word, doesn't matter who; muggle, witch or wizard, the Ministry is alerted and any and all wards protecting or around that person are dissolved the moment the word, or phrase is uttered." Ginny explained for her friend's benefit.
"But Harry... how could you possibly know that?" Hermione wanted to know.
Harry shrugged. "One of the many things I'll be teaching you is how to sense the ebb and flow of magic. When I started to say Vol... well, I could feel a build-up of magic, homing in on me like sharks in bloody water. When I stopped just short of saying it, it lingered but disappeared after a second or two. Hence why I had to keep trying until I finally figured out what it was. And for the record, Hermione, it's a Ministry spell, the Death Eaters couldn't even maintain it without the Ministry resources to keep it up."
"What are we going to do?" she practically wailed.
Harry just shrugged again. "Exactly what I told you. Don't say the V-word. Come up with more imaginative word combinations to identify him, or just call him Riddle or Tommy-boy."
"I meant about freeing the Ministry!" she screamed at him.
"Nothing," he answered honestly.
"WHAT?!"
"There's nothing we can do, Hermione," he explained. "And even if there was, we're not ready to try it yet. It could be advantageous in a way, if you think about it. Riddle and his forces now have to divide their attention. Instead of just having a grand old time, they have to keep things running, take the time to enforce whatever new laws they'll be coming up with, and expend further resources in hunting down anyone that they can't keep under the leash. Not to mention trying to find us. Despite the fact that they are a major power in the Wizarding World, there really aren't that many Death Eaters out there, guys."
"So, what are we supposed to do? About the Ministry, I mean?" she asked one final time.
"We let the Death Eaters have it for the time being. It's just temporary, and it'll wake up all those 'on-the-fence' wizards and witches that might have once been halfway swayed by the Death Eater's propaganda. With every day that they don't bring us in, or that somebody else goes fugitive, Riddle and his echelon will be forced to keep tightening the noose tighter and tighter until finally even those that might once have been loyal supporters, will turn on them and practically beg for somebody to give them back the old Ministry. Besides, there's nothing we can do, and until there is, let the Death Eater's be responsible for the entire magical world for a change. Might make a few of them commit suicide after the stress builds up."
"What about the Horcruxes?" Ginny asked.
"I'll take care of them personally. In a day or two. Do I have to recite the list to you, again Hermione?" he pointedly stared at the brunette, who had her mouth open to say something, only to shove a piece of fruit into it instead and continued eating her breakfast. "That's what I thought."
"Now about training..." Ron started.
Later that day
"You never said anything about cleaning!" Ron whined.
"It's not cleaning, it's training!" Harry grunted back at him.
"Easy for you to say, you can move at super speed! Not to mention, you've probably got some super secret spell that gives you super strength too!" Ron continued to whine.
"Look, Kreacher isn't as young as he used to be, and that stupid portrait was telling him to let things rot where they stood instead of keeping up with things," Harry lectured his friend for what felt like the fourth time in a row. "The girls are meditating, you didn't want to meditate, we can't go outside to jog, which leaves running up and down the stairs, carrying heavy weights. We need the attic, both for the access to the roof, as well as it's the largest floor space in the whole building. There's too much junk in the attic for us to move freely. Three birds, one stone. And if you keep whining like this, Ron, I'm going to give you an up close and personal demonstration of a very unique battle spell. The Thousand Years of Pain!"
Ron grumbled, but he quit his whining and continued to help carry the old junk stored in the attic space down to the ground floor, and all of it that wasn't going to be thrown out as trash, then went on to the basement after a very brief stopover. Harry was the deciding factor of what stayed and what went. Some of it was old furniture, some of it was a painting or two, but every painting that actually talked was instantly considered garbage and put out in the hall to be thrown away. They also discovered, to their amazement, a complete muggle-style weight set and weight bench for exercising. They still brought it downstairs and then took it down to the basement, although Harry promised they would be taking it right back up to the attic once everything was cleared away. Once most of the junk had been moved away, leaving only an unhealthy amount of dust and dead rats amongst other disgusting remains of the Black family legacy. Of course this wasn't done easily or instantly, so by the time that both boys had cleared it just this much, it was already well past lunchtime.
Both boys were grimy, covered in dust, soot, and other things they really didn't want to contemplate, and it was settling into their clothes just as badly as their skin and hair. Coming back downstairs one final time, they went to the kitchen for food, cause they were hungry, but the girls took one look at the pair of them and immediately pointed them back upstairs for showers and a good scrubbing.
Rather than argue about it, Harry just sighed and dragged a protesting Ron after him back upstairs and to the showers. As incentive to make sure the eternally-hungry boy actually washed, he pointed out that unless Ron wanted to eat the crud he was currently wearing, then he might as well just lick himself clean, instead of infesting the rest of their food. Half an hour of solid scrubbing later, both, now clean, boys were back down in the kitchen inhaling the meal Kreacher had prepared for them.
"So, what have you two been doing while we've been in the study?" Hermione asked as she and Ginny watched the boys eat, having had their own lunch a couple hours ago.
"Cleaning," Ron grumbled.
"Exercising," Harry countered.
"Cleaning," Ron insisted.
Harry shrugged and said back, "Getting some physical training in while preparing the attic to be our exercise floor. Still not done yet, but both of us were getting hungry. Come to think of it... why don't you two join us in the attic after we're done here. I think it's time for another lesson."
"Oh good, no more cleaning," Ron continued to eat.
Harry chuckled. "No, no more cleaning for you, Ron. Besides, there's so much dust and waste left upstairs that it is completely unhealthy for anybody to try and clean it. Not even a House Elf with all their magic could do so without killing themselves from toxic inhalation. Not a nice way to go, either way."
"Oh, Hermione," he said suddenly, "Care to teach everyone here the Bubblehead charm, real quick? We'll need it when we go upstairs, believe me."
"Oh sure, it's actually quite simple really..." she proceeded to lecture them and give a few quick demonstrations. Ginny did it flawlessly on her first try, and even went so far to place a Silencing charm on top of it to finally block out Hermione's lecturing. Ron didn't want to give up filling the void called his stomach, so he had to continue to suffer through the girl's lecture until she was finally satisfied.
When everyone had done the charm to her satisfaction, Hermione turned expectantly towards Harry, who smirked before pursing his lips like he was about to whistle or blow, right before a bubble began to form from his mouth and before everyone's eyes, quickly became a perfect copy of the Bubblehead charm, only it was a perfect sphere of crystal clear magical energy rather than a fluid bubble like theirs. He just shrugged and then popped his own bubble and soon after he and Ron were finished with their meal and they lead the way back up to the attic.
"Wow, you weren't kidding," Ginny commented, her voice somewhat distorted through her bubble.
"Hm, I think a combination of Scourgify, Vanishing spells, and Evanseco should work, to start with..." Hermione started to list the spells she thought they'd need, but Harry interrupted her.
"No, this is also part of your training. Specifically, I'm going to show you Elemental magic, which is part of Battle Magic, but it also incorporates a great deal more, and could even be called its own type of magic without anybody noticing or caring about the difference. First lesson, there are no set elements. There could be four, there could be five, there could be seven, thirteen, a hundred or a thousand, doesn't matter. Second lesson, the essence of the universe is not made up of the elements, nor is it controlled by the same forces, no matter the scale. At the same time, the universe is so dependent upon the elements and their forces that it might as well be nothing but a combination of all the elements to various degrees. Third lesson, there is no contradiction, there is only perspective."
"What does that mean?" Ron blurted out.
"Nothing at all, and everything you'll need to know about what I'm about to show you," Harry cryptically replied. Then he formed a specific seal with his hands, putting both hands together, the last two fingers of each hand straight with the tips touching, the pointer and middle fingers curled together around their knuckles, and the thumbs pointed back towards his chest, also with their tips touching. When the same bluish flames appeared in a circle around his feet, the others knew he was starting whatever spell he was demonstrating for them.
Then he shouted, his voice filled with magical power, "Element of the Wind: Cleansing Twister!"
Amazingly, before their very eyes, a tornado, in miniature, formed right in front of Harry. Then it went around the room, picking up the dust and other grime from the floor, sucking it into itself. Once it reached an obstacle it couldn't immediately suck up it paused for only a moment before splitting in two, and then both went off in separate directions, continuing to scour the floor and pick up all the built up dust and grime of the ages. Before too long, there were almost a dozen dust-filled tornadoes racing around the attic, trying to get every last speck of dust it seemed, until Harry decided it was enough and they all raced back, along with all the dust and other crap they carried, and fused back into one giant dust-filled tornado.
"Here's the best part," Harry shouted over the noise of the twister he'd created.
He formed a new seal with his hands, still both together. Instead of the last two fingers touching tips and the first two curled down, it was reversed, with his pinky and ring fingers folded together, and his pointer fingers flush with each other, the thumbs tucked in and pointing up with them rather than back at him as before. Then he shouted out the spell, same as before, "Element of Fire: Fire Spin!"
Instead of coming from him, as they'd expected given his penchant for shooting out fireballs, they watched as a spark started at the base of the dust tornado, and slowly began to grow, and grow, and grow, and grow, until before they'd even fully registered the fact, they were staring at a flaming twister that was steadily consuming all of the dust, and increasing the temperature of the attic considerably.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted, the noise level having risen with the sound of flames with the wind. "You're going to burn the whole house down! And us with it!"
Rather than answer, he just looked over his shoulder and smirked at her. Then he formed a new seal, this time his palms were flush with each other and all of his fingers were interlaced. "Element of the Earth: Decomposition!" And just like that, the flame disappeared, the wind stopped, and every single trace of the dust that had covered everything in the attic... was just gone.
"Wha... whu... wh... what did you do?" Hermione was stunned.
He just smirked at her one more time before waving them back, this time, the seal was somewhat different from the others. For one, he flipped his wrists so that his hands were palm up, then he formed tight fists with each, and placed them knuckle-to-knuckle, his thumbs facing outward and down. He cast the spell, "Element of Water: Cleansing Rain!"
They expected small storm clouds to form and for it to start raining on everything with big fat drops of water. Instead, around Harry a haze formed that looked like it could become a cloud, but wasn't quite there, right before a mini-vortex about the size of a dinner plate formed within the haze and a jet of water that looked just as powerful as the kind firetrucks used in their fire hoses. It shot out and sprayed against the wall, moving in a steady pattern, leaving clean, wet, and fresh-scrubbed-looking wood panels and walls. Soon, the jets were shooting out all over the place and it was all they could do to keep from getting blasted themselves.
Funnily enough, all the water that should have been soaking into the floor, maybe even falling to gravity and creating water stains in the ceilings below, instead gravitated towards Harry's feet, where it all evaporated on contact and became part of the mist that was fueling those water vortexes. Before too long, the attic was looking a lot like what it probably once appeared as when the building was first built. What's more, the floor was looking freshly scrubbed, like it'd been gone over with a toothbrush by a whole squad of Marines and SBS.
Finally, Harry stopped the spell and the mist, and water, all vanished as if they'd never been there. He then signaled for them to remove the Bubblehead charms and he began to explain.
"In order; the element of Air, or in casting, Element of the Wind, has many, many, many different properties associated with it, from biological, physical, mental, psychologically, magically, and many more. We'll get to that when we have more time. For the most part, you simply need to understand the nature of the Wind and Air, and what you can use it for. Invisibility, movement, shields, displacement, vanishing, knocking somebody back, cutting something, things like that are good to start with. What I just showed you is a high-end low class spell. What that means is, the spell is not complicated, hence it's low class, but it requires a bit more energy to successfully cast than the simplest spells, hence why it's a high-end low class spell."
"The element of Fire is not easy to control in the slightest, but, as has been proven on countless occasions, that it can be done. What I showed you is actually the second lowest and simplest Fire element spell that I honestly know."
"Seriously?" Ron was impressed.
Harry nodded and explained. "The reason it got to be so big and impressive is due to the fact that I combined it with two other spells, the first of which was an Air element spell. Unless their directly opposing one another, Fire and Air work extremely well together. When they do work against one another, more often than not, unless one is abnormally stronger than the other, they tend to cancel each other out, doing nothing at all. Which brings us to the Earth element spell I used."
"You called it, 'Decomposition'," said Hermione.
He nodded again, saying, "That is a high-end mid-class element spell. It is very similar to the vanishing spells Professor McGonagall taught us at school. That particular spell breaks down matter to it's subatomic particles, we're talking atoms and molecules, just to clarify. Vanishing, simply makes it so matter no longer exists, at least not here in our plane of existence. Decomposition, makes it so it no longer exists at all."
"Wicked," Ron grinned.
Harry shrugged. "Well, that's the thing, decomposition takes a long time normally, and the spell really only speeds it up by about a year per second. So don't think you can go around casting this on Death Eaters and watch them waste away before your eyes. No, that's why I combined the three spells instead of casting just the Earth element spell by itself. The Air element to gather everything together, the Fire element to turn it all to ash basically, and finally the Earth Element to turn it all into individual molecules floating through the air, which is close to what it all was becoming anyway."
"And then the Water element spell, to finish the cleaning," said Hermione.
"Something important also happened with that spell," he told them, "Care to guess what it was?"
They were silent for a minute, until Ginny answered, "The water used by the spell wasn't just conjured, like the Aguamenti spells. The initial blasts came from the surrounding air, and as you added more jets, the water pooled around you and was basically recycled to be used by the spell all over again."
"Very good, Ginny," Harry smiled at her. "That's it exactly! Every single spell that draws directly from the elements, or every single spell of Elemental magic does not and cannot create something from nothing. You want to use Air, you have to have air. You want to use Water, you have to have a water source nearby. Fire and Earth are a bit of either/or, as so long as you are on the Earth itself, you will have access to earth and dirt and so forth. Fire, well, anybody with a match can create fire, so rather than simply drawing from a source of fire, like a candle or torch, you need to make sure you have that which fire requires to exist at all, namely fuel."
"You'd be surprised just how much and what all will burn if you put enough energy into it, and all that dust was easy kindling. Also, you, of course, need oxygen and air and something to keep the fire burning. You can use your own magic, namely the magic of the spell, to support and fuel the fire, but that is temporary at best and not able to be supported for long endeavors. Still, that's why there can be fireballs and even jets of flame."
"There," Harry stated, clapping his hands together as though getting rid of remaining dust, "that's the theory portion of today's training out of the way. You two have meditated, Ron and I worked up a nice manly sweat, time to resume your martial arts training."
"What... but... I thought..." Hermione stuttered, while the Weasleys grinned enthusiastically.
"C'mon, Hermione," Ron dragged her forward a few steps, "It'll be fine. We went over this. When we spar, we're not actually trying to hurt one another, we're not actually fighting, we're just practicing how to fight when we go up against the Death Eaters, who want to kill all of us, or worse."
"Plan on worse," Harry commented as he began to stretch his muscles, directing them to mimic him.
"So, Harry..." Ron started to say.
"None of you learn Lightning until you've mastered all of the other styles," he said, resolute.
"Aw, man."
"So what do we start with, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"What I started with," he answered. "Water. Initial defensive form. Good for equally strong defense and attack, while allowing you to be maneuverable enough to dodge and avoid when necessary. Then we'll start on Air and Earth simultaneously. Once you've gotten proficient at all of those, I'll start you on Fire. Then I might teach you a few battle spells."
"YES!"
"He said he might, Ronald," Hermione scolded her friend, "And even so, we have to learn all four individual forms first."
"It's easier than I make it look," Harry told her. "Here, just follow my lead and do what I do."
They spent the rest of the day, until dinner time, up in the attic, Harry showing them every part and individual move to the form of his fighting style that he called Water. By the time he finally allowed them to go to bed, their muscles were aching sore and they felt their bodies trying to make the same moves they'd been learning constantly almost. Just before bed, he also had them all meditate one more time, placing them in a circle to prevent any further magic leakage than necessary. They were still erratic in their control, but he felt by the next day he could start them on the next phase of meditation.
In the mean time, however, the combination of magical and physical exercise had exhausted his friends, so he escorted them all up to their beds, before heading back downstairs himself to confer with Phineas Black, Mrs. Black, and Kreacher. He needed to start his plans, and putting at least a few into action.
After getting as much information as was possible out of the Black portraits and from Kreacher that he could on the whole Pureblood mentality, from at least three different angles even, he went about the first of his plans. Which actually needed some testing first of all before he could use it large scale, so he stepped out the front door and walked to the middle of the park that was right in front of Grimmauld Place.
The fact that it was midnight helped as nobody was there to see the house appear out of nowhere, nor the boy that stepped down a few steps that hadn't been there a minute prior. However, very soon, there were several people in that courtyard after the young man whispered a single word.
"Voldemort."
It was short work. The 'Law Enforcement' arrived in near-silent, but not totally, pops around the position Harry'd been standing in when he'd whispered the Taboo word. The instant it took them to appear, he'd already moved into super speed and was invisible to the naked eye.
Sensing that they were both marked, and their auras reeked of dark magic, indicating to him they were true Death Eaters and not Imperius'd Aurors, Harry took little time in disabling and then dispatching the four-man team. In the morning, if you were to look closely, you might be able to detect some trace of the four men standing there and then being dragged off, but there was no blood, there were no bodies, and thus no reason to bother looking in the first place. A week later, a few dogs uncovered a few new bones to chew on, but nobody would see reason for suspicion, as dogs are known for digging up bones all over the place.
After calling another two strike teams to other various locations around London, Harry finally called it a night, as his whole objective was to bring out an Imperius'd Auror to him, but apparently there were still a few more Death Eaters than he'd been aware of, as none came. It didn't bode well for the Ministry, or the Magical Community as a whole, but it was late, and silent kills were more difficult and far more stressful than the loud and noisy ones he was used to, and he was tired.
So, calling it a night, he went back, teleporting directly into his bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place and stripping naked before falling into bed. At least three of his personalities had, at some point during their lives and training, gotten into the habit of sleeping without clothes, and just because one was raised in the closed-minded, antiquated, inhibited, Victorian-era Wizarding world, he wasn't about to bother correcting that habit.
AN: Sorry about all the filler stuff, but it really can't be helped. Hoping that by the next chapter a lot more original stuff can happen, but this story is more or less writing itself at this point, so we'll just have to see I guess. By this point, I honestly wanted Harry going out, destroying all of the Horcruxes, threatening Snape, killing all of the Death Eaters so it was only Voldemort and the more annoying of his Inner Circle (Read: Malfoy, Bellatrix, Greyback) and then going off to find some place where he could both train his friends and have cool and wacky adventures. Instead, they're still at Grimmauld Place and he still hasn't gone after even one of the Horcruxes. Any suggestions on things you might like to see Harry do different please e-mail me! I'm always open to criticism.