Hi again everyone! Thank you so much for the reviews. They encourage me to keep writing! Enjoy the next chapter!
I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 6: Learning
Two weeks flew by on Harry's new schedule. The little cottage had completely been refurbished and furnished as well as decorated. The unlikely trio had just finished painting two days ago and the walls were now a warm chestnut color. The three bedrooms were decorated per the preferences of their respective inhabitants. Harry had willingly allowed Remus to move in to one of them—in face he'd practically begged the older man to stay—and had invited Tonks to do the same. She'd thought on it for two days but eventually agreed. "It beats paying rent," she'd said, "plus I get to corrupt a little sixth year," she teased.
"You'd better play nice," Harry answered, "because I reserve the right to kick you out—it is my house."
Aside from cleaning and redecorating, Harry was also on a roll with his studies. It was the first time he'd been allowed to learn at his own pace without competing with others or worrying about what they might think and he was thriving. As he progressed in Occlumency, everything else came easier. It was easier for Harry to concentrate now that his mind wasn't as cluttered with useless information (or unfounded worries). Harry's morphing had also improved leaps and bounds since he'd first discovered the talent. It was still difficult for him to make multiple changes at once, but he could change his hair nearly as fast as Tonks could.
Harry had also mastered his first silent spell just the previous afternoon. It was only the lumos charm, first-year material, but it meant the rest would come easier. He'd spent the day virtually euphoric and had learned several other silent spells in the wake of it. Harry's knowledge and familiarity with Ancient Runes was growing as well. He'd made a simple talisman imbued with runes to create a weak shield. It would only repel one or two low-powered jinxes before it collapsed, but it was a huge success for Harry, who'd known nothing about Ancient Runes twelve days ago. Arithmancy, as well, was coming along and Harry was beginning to understand the basics of spell creation, a fact with which he was excited.
In addition, under the tutelage of two aurors Harry was quickly becoming a proficient duelist, learning strategy and expanding his repertoire of available spells. Harry was amused when Remus demonstrated the pluses of trick spells in duels. The main goal was to incapacitate the opponent, and a tallantalegra worked just as well as a stupefy for that purpose, not to mention the element of surprise. Tonks still bested Harry at every opportunity, but he was quickly catching up. He'd defeated Remus twice now and it was becoming consistent.
Outside Harry's haven, however, things were growing darker. Harry read the Daily Prophet every day when Remus finished it, and each day he read grim reports. Stories of disappearances appeared more and more frequently and Dementors were everywhere. The weather, even, was adversely affected by their presence, making the summer cooler and wetter than even England usually was, not to mention the fog. The darkness hadn't truly reached the area Harry's cottage stood, but farther north it was everywhere. Stories of Voldemort sightings appeared only occasionally so far, but it was only a matter of time.
The growing chaos and fear outside only increased Harry's determination to learn everything he could and become the very best he could become. He threw himself into his studies, set on being as prepared as possible when the time finally came to face Voldemort. In fact his concentration was almost single-minded, leaving very little room to think about anything else. And when werewolves were mentioned in the Prophet as a caution with the approaching full moon, Harry determinedly added one more thing to his list of skills to acquire.
"Can you help me become an animagus?" Harry asked Tonks during their usual Transfiguration time. He had already ensured that Remus was nowhere nearby before he spoke. He was, in fact, resting as the full moon was tomorrow.
"I can try," Tonks replied dubiously. "I'm not one myself, though I have attempted. I just don't have the patience for all the required study. But it can be dangerous. Why do you ask?"
"My dad, Sirius, even Wormtail," Harry spat the name with contempt, "all became animagi to help Remus on the full moons. And now that Sirius is—now that Remus is alone, his transformations will be harder. I want to help him, like they did." He and Tonks ignored Harry's near-slip.
"Wouldn't Remus be a better option, then, since he's familiar with the process?"
Harry shook his head. "I want it to be a surprise. He probably wouldn't let me, say it's 'too dangerous' or some other crap. I'll do it on my own if I have to, but you're the Transfiguration master. I figured you could help."
Tonks smiled and shook her head at the flattery. "I'm not sure I would say master, but I can at least keep you from getting stuck half-pig," she teased.
"Who's a pig? You're the one always imitating its snout!" Harry protested indignantly and shot a spell at her in retaliation.
Tonks blocked his spell good-naturedly. "Now hold on. Dueling practice isn't for another forty minutes. You can get me back then, without destroying your house in the process."
"Fine," Harry relented. "But you'd better watch out," he cautioned with a grin. "And, can we start now?" he asked, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.
Tonks shrugged. "I suppose. Read the section on animagi in your third year textbook, then we can discuss it. I'll find some more material for later."
"Okay," Harry agreed. He was slightly disappointed but realized the sense in her instruction. He found the correct textbook and read:
Ordinary Transfiguration of a human into an animal's shape results in the human having an animal's brain, and thus being unable to remember what he or she was supposed to be doing. Retaining one's human mental capacities while still taking on an animal's form is a highly advanced form of Transfiguration, and can go horribly wrong. Consequently, those who can master this Transfiguration are quite rare in the wizarding world; they are referred to as Animagi. More precisely, an Animagus is a witch or wizard who has the ability to Transfigure herself/himself into an animal at will while retaining her/his mental powers, such as the ability to think as a human. (HP Lexicon)
The process of becoming an Animagus is a complex one. The witch or wizard must first identify her/his animal, which is accomplished through meditation or the use of a potion (see Moste Potente Potiones for the complete list of ingredients and brewing process). Once the animal is identified, the wich or wizard must become intimately familiar with that animal's anatomy, habitat, behavior, etc. and then transform her or his body to assume that animal's characteristics. The Animagus transformation is a form of wandless magic; that is, the magic does not come from an incantation, but rather from the wizard himself. It requires an immense level of concentration and self-consciousness to correctly make the transformation and return to human form. Because of the danger involved with the Animagus transformation, it is not a recommended pursuit.
That was it. Nothing new, really, other than the bit about a potion and the wandless magic. Harry looked up from the text to see Tonks with a conjured mirror, studying her curly silver hair in the glass.
"Haven't you already seen practically every combination available by now?" Harry asked, eying the mirror incredulously.
"Are you kidding? The possibilities are endless! Besides, it's fun. Someday you'll understand the appeal," Tonks responded. "Now, tell me what you read."
Harry briefly summarized the two paragraphs he'd read and answered his question about the wandless magic. She then related her own experience with the transformation upon Harry's asking.
"I figured it would be useful as an auror—you know, a quick getaway if things go south. So I studied it and got as far as discovering my form—which is a chameleon, by the way. I started studying its anatomy so I would know what I had to turn into, but I didn't get very far. I got bored and busy, and I haven't been able to change anything yet. Maybe this can be a team effort. What do you say?"
"Sounds good to me," Harry answered.
"All right. I'll make the potion; I have the recipe filed somewhere from when I did it. Unless you'd rather try meditation?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't think so. If I can find the directions, I'll have it ready by tomorrow, the next day at the latest."
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Tonks. It really does mean a lot to me."
"Not a problem," she answered. "Now, are you ready to play?" Harry nodded. Tonks referred to a sort of game they'd invented and she had dubbed "copycat." Tonks would morph something and Harry would have to copy it as quickly and accurately as he could. Since Tonks would often go lightning fast, with multiple changes at once, it really helped improve Harry's concentration. When they first started, it had taken at least a full minute for Harry to make the changes. Now he nearly matched her, only taking a maximum of twenty seconds to change more than one feature at a time. At the end Tonks was clearly proud of his progress.
Once the time for Transfiguration ended, the pair went outside and Tonks set up targets for Harry to practice on. "Your speed and ingenuity are remarkable, but your aim is horrible, kid," she said with a grin to explain the targets' purpose.
"But I've hit you every time!" Harry protested.
"That's because you send a barrage of spells in the same general direction. One of them is bound to hit. But that's not a good strategy; you'll only exhaust yourself. In a life-or-death duel, you can't rely on luck. You have to hit hard, fast, and accurate. So that's what you'll be working on today." Seeing Harry's irritation, she relented a little. "If it makes you feel any better, I was a horrible shot when I first started Auror training. It took all three years of the training and tons of practice to get where I am now, and I'm still only barely average according to Dawlish. So don't get discouraged. Be patient with yourself and it will come."
Harry sighed. "Fine. I'll give it a shot. Pun intended," he added as Tonks laughed at his word choice.
"Good. Oh, did I mention? I want you to try to do this as quietly as possible. If you can't cast silently, at least whisper the incantation—no need to tell your enemy exactly what you're going to hit him with," she added with a wink. Before Harry could protest, she shot a stream of spells at him.
Harry blocked or dodged them all, then attacked with a fury. He aimed mostly at the targets once Tonks backed off, but he successfully hit her several times on purpose in retaliation, pretending his aim was simply off. By the end of practice, the targets were covered with burn marks, but the more recent ones were clustered at least a little closer to the bull's-eye. Harry had also lowered the volume of his voice to a harsh whisper—so far he could only cast a handful of spells silently, though all were good dueling spells, including the shield charm. Harry had made it a point to focus on those first after he got the hang of first-year spells as those would be the ones he'd need the most.
Tonks and Harry ended the practice with a mock duel, and Harry came closer than ever before to beating her. He still ended up on his back in the grass, either Stunned or afflicted with some other spell to take him out of the duel. But he was making definite progress, and Harry felt a surge of self-satisfaction when he noticed that Tonks was breathing heavily by the end of their practice.
After the duel Remus was ready to help Harry with book studies—Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Charms theory. Due to the approaching full moon, Remus wasn't up for much else. But that was okay with Harry. He sat in a chair by Remus's bed to read and the other man was there to answer his questions or demonstrate the wand movement and the like for Harry.
At six o'clock they ate dinner, then Tonks, who was off-duty that night, helped Harry with Potions. He was up to fourth year-level brews and was making rapid progress. Tonks seemed impressed. She was never the star of her Potions class, but she was competent. However, when it was explained to him properly Harry seemed to have an instinctual feel for the brewing process, and an enthusiasm that had never been present before. That was due entirely to Snape—why bother making an effort if he'd only be insulted for it?
Harry took the rest of the evening to practice Occlumency. By this time he'd nearly made it through all of fifth year, and he'd stayed current as well. There were a handful of memories he'd deliberately skipped over from the previous year, wanting to put off the moment he'd have to relive them. But, it would be difficult to continue without cataloguing those, especially considering the events of the previous summer. So Harry finally decided to just grit his teeth and get it over with. He just knew it would be anything but easy.
Harry sat in the sitting room against the window seat. Tonks was in a chair nearby, going through files from the Ministry. Harry warned the young auror what he was about to do and told her to disregard anything he may do or say half-consciously. "And definitely don't surprise me, or you'll get hexed," he said, perfectly serious.
"All right," Tonks answered, a concerned look on her face. "I'll be here if you need me. No matter what happens, Harry, you're not alone."
"Thanks," he answered, sincerely grateful. He was beginning to look up to Tonks as he would an older sister, fun to tease but someone he could rely on for support. She smiled reassuringly and nodded, then Harry closed his eyes and dove into his memories.
Harry began first with his detentions with Umbridge. He'd put those off mostly because they would frustrate him and make it hard to concentrate if he continued. But he did it. His hands balled into fists, the white scars on his hand standing in stark relief as he remembered her deliberately offensive comments and the blatant torture. He had to take a few minutes to calm down before he could continue. When he did, he cautiously ventured into the memory of his "dream" just before Christmas with Nagini in the Department of Mysteries.
Harry shuddered at how real it had felt, and how terrified he was for Mr. Weasley, even though Harry knew the man was fine, six months later. The glimpses of the Department of Mysteries triggered other memories he was forced to suppress for the time being. But Harry dreaded delving into those memories. He was building up to the fiasco at the ministry just a month previous, and he wasn't sure he was ready. However, it would be nothing compared to the Third Task.
Once his foray into Nagini's mind was carefully filed away under the heading of "Voldemort," Harry braced himself. He could no longer put it off, though he'd been trying not just since starting Occlumency, but since the moment it was over. The last thing he wanted to do was relive his third-worst memory (the first, of course, being Halloween 1981 and the second being the graveyard). Warily, keeping his emotions under lock and key, Harry allowed his mind to slip back to the beginning of his History of Magic O.W.L.
Watching his "vision" over again and replaying Hermione's words made Harry realize just how senseless his supposed rescue attempt had been. He kicked himself over and over again. Why had he been so stupid as to believe it? Why hadn't he listened to Hermione, who had never once led him wrong? Was she right? Did he like playing the hero? Did he really, somewhere unconsciously, actually want the attention?
These thoughts and more swirled through Harry's mind, but he forced them away and concentrated only on the memory. He pushed down a surge of anger at Kreacher's lie. He couldn't help but smile when Grawp rescued them and Umbridge was chased away by a herd of centaurs. And he felt a surge of affection for Ginny, Neville, and Luna, who willingly came with him and stood by him, putting themselves in danger just because he was their friend. But then Harry's heart started pounding as he recalled their threstrals landing at the visitor's entrance to the Ministry and returned to the Hall of Prophecy.
He watched the duel that ensued as though for the first time. His body was tense, ready to spring. Relief washed through him as the Order appeared. But Harry had to fight to make himself keep watching as Sirius dueled Bellatrix. She'd only hit him with a Stunner, but he fell backward through the grey veil. His heart wrenched and his eyes burned as his godfather disappeared behind the softly billowing curtain. Harry wanted to back out, to make it stop, but he forced himself to continue to the end of the memory.
Harry watched again as Dumbledore dueled with Voldemort, felt the horror of possession by the latter and the fresh grief that shoved the snake-like man out of his head. Harry remembered the events in Dumbledore's office, destroying his trinkets and hearing the prophecy for the first time. He couldn't even bring himself to feel guilty for the things he'd said to the headmaster. After watching again the sun rise through Dumbledore's office window, Harry allowed the memory to fade as he finished locking up the different elements. When he finally finished, he felt just as exhausted as he had been that night. The grief for Sirius was fresh and agonizing.
Without opening his eyes, Harry pulled his legs up to his chest and hid his face behind his knees. Tears he hadn't let himself shed that night finally fell. An arm fell around his shoulders and without thinking Harry leaned against her, struggling to regain control. Tonks squeezed his shoulders gently. She said nothing, but Harry sensed their shared grief and her concern for him. But Harry refused to lose it in front of her. After a few minutes, Harry straightened and stood, drying the tears discreetly. He bid the young auror goodnight and retired to his room.
It took some time to fall asleep, but when he did Harry had his first nightmare of the summer—up to that point he'd been too exhausted at night to do anything but sleep soundly. Once more Harry relived the Ministry fiasco, but this time Remus didn't hold him back and he followed Sirius through the veil to rescue him only to find he didn't want to return. He also blamed Harry for his death. Harry woke with a muffled cry of protest. He was shaking and covered in sweat and he couldn't get dream-Sirius's words out of his head.
After allowing himself a few minutes for his breathing to slow, Harry slipped out of bed and padded down to the kitchen, knowing he'd never get back to sleep anytime. He hoped a mug of hot chocolate would calm his nerves.
Once his drink was ready Harry sat down at the table he'd only had for a week, cradling the mug in his hands. He wished the warmth would fill the cold emptiness in his heart and not just warm his hands.
Harry had just taken his first sip when a thud echoed from the hallway, followed by a muffled curse. A moment later Tonks staggered around the corner. Her hair was a mess and unusually long, the color of a cloudy night sky. Harry had long since learned that Tonks's morphing often revealed her mood, especially when she wasn't on her guard. And from the fact that she hadn't even bothered to morph away the bags under her eyes told Harry she was also having a rough night.
Tonks made herself a mug of chocolate and sat beside Harry at the table. "Can't sleep?" she asked, her voice unnaturally subdued.
Harry shook his head. "Nightmare," he said quietly.
Tonks smiled slightly. "Me, too," she admitted. "I take it was a bad one?" she asked gently and Harry realized she was eyeing his hair. Ever since he'd become used to his morphing abilities, his hair would change color to reflect his mood if he wasn't careful. Right now, it probably exactly matched hers.
"Yours was, too," Harry murmured.
Tonks twirled a strand of hair around her finger and smiled sadly. "Our morphing betrays us," she said, but Harry noticed that she didn't bother to change it. Harry shrugged and looked down at his mug, images and accusations from his dream still swirling around in his mind. He felt Tonks's eyes on him but ignored it. Then she put her arm around him and squeezed gently. "Do you want to talk about it? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," she said with a hint of teasing.
Harry hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth and was about to explain when Remus suddenly appeared. He looked even more haggard than usual, his eyes shadowed and his hair a tangled mess. His dressing grown was rumpled and he moved stiffly. Remus went straight to the counter and filled a mug with water from his wand which he then heated before adding a tea bag. Curling his fingers around the steaming mug, he turned around and finally noticed the other inhabitants of the kitchen.
When Remus saw Tonks and Harry, he smiled softly. "Looks like a bad night for all of us," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
"What's your story, then?" Tonks asked, a smirk on her face though Harry could tell it was at least partially forced.
Remus's smile returned. "I imagine the same as yours. I had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep, and I thought a hot drink would help. The company is, of course, is better even than that."
"You sound like Dumbledore," Harry murmured.
"I take that as a compliment," Remus said, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table on Harry's other side. "Have you been here long?"
Harry shrugged while Tonks answered. "Five, maybe ten minutes. And Harry's cocoa is still hot, so he probably hasn't been here much longer." She smiled a little and nudged Harry's arm. He frowned but remained silent. "By the way, Moony, would you like to share your nightly horrors with us?"
Remus raised an eyebrow at the nickname. Tonks had picked it up from Harry but only used it to tease him.
"Not particularly, but if you go first I'll oblige," Remus answered, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Tonks hesitated, and Harry, for the first time, saw her look uncertain and maybe even afraid. He nudged her and tried to smile reassuringly. She smiled back and nodded. "If Harry does, too," she consented. "We're all in this together, right?" Harry nodded, though he wasn't looking forward to sharing his fears. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable," she suggested, and led the way out to the sitting room. She and Harry sat on the window seat and Remus levitated a chair over. When they were all settled, Tonks related her nightmare while the three of them sipped at their drinks.
At first she teasingly blamed Harry for it, as he'd warned her that he would be going through the night at the Ministry in his Occlumency. The gist of it was, she had relived her own experience that night and recalled her fear and grief. Tonks didn't look directly at either of them during the telling. Though outwardly she seemed calm and mostly unfazed, from his proximity to her Harry could tell she was shaking slightly. And he remembered that she'd lost a cousin and friend as well. Harry hesitated as he'd never done such a thing before, but he put his arm around her. She seemed surprised, but then she smiled in gratitude and leaned against him. She had long since told Harry that he was the little brother she never had and now got to corrupt. Harry wondered if this was what it meant to have a sister—a family.
"It's your turn, Moony," Harry said, summoning a smile.
Remus exhaled, not quite a sigh. "I suppose it is. You recall that tomorrow is the full moon?" At their nods, he continued. "It's my first full moon alone since...Harry discovered Sirius's innocence," he said, no one commenting on the slight pause. He went on to describe what he expected that full moon to be like and had lived it in his nightmare at its worst. Then, hesitantly and not without a bit of coaxing, Remus admitted that he was scared.
Without even hesitating (and surprising even himself) Harry hugged the older man who was already like a father to him. Remus hugged him back and for several moments didn't let go. But finally he released Harry and the latter returned to his seat. "It's your turn, cub," Remus said quietly.
Harry hesitated a long minute and tried to stall. "It's getting qu—quite late," he said, faking a yawn. "And Tonks is already falling asleep," he said teasingly. Tonks turned to look at him, a fierce look in her eye, and it took a second for Harry to realize that the intense fire in her eyes wasn't for him—it was a result of what Remus had said. It confirmed the suspicions he'd had growing for a while, that she had feelings for Remus beyond that of a friend.
"Now, cub, we made a deal," Remus said softly but with a smile. Harry exhaled heavily, not unlike Remus had done before. But finally he relented after feeling Tonks reassuringly squeeze his shoulder.
Pulling his knees up to his chest, Harry began in a low monotone to describe his nightmare. He explained how he'd followed Sirius through the veil in an attempt to rescue him, described the situation, the words he'd said. "And then he blamed me for his death, for being stupid enough to believe the vision. And…he's right. It is my fault. If I had just listened to Hermione, none of it would have happened," Harry finished. His voice cracked.
"Stop right there, Potter. It is not your fault. All of us were there; we know what happened. And it was not you who struck the killing blow. You did what any true friend would have done, and to be honest I admire your courage and loyalty." To Harry's surprise it was Tonks, and not Remus, who jumped to his defense. As a result, it resonated more and Harry almost believed her. But that didn't erase the guilt, or the grief.
At Tonks's words, the barrier between grief and tears crumbled. Hot tears spilled down his face and Tonks was the first to embrace him. A firm hand also landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and Harry knew it was Remus.
After a while, Harry calmed and his tears slowed. He pulled away from Tonks with a mumbled thanks and dried his tears on his pajama sleeve. He said goodnight and thanked Remus, then he headed to his room without another word, leaving a puzzled auror and a concerned werewolf behind him.