Hello lovelies! Thanks a bunch for continuing to read this story. I'm very happy to hear that you all like the turns this story has taken.
Enjoy!
Chapter 44 – Insomniac
Morning was slow to dawn on Grimmauld place. The sun could not pierce the already sparse windows, most of which had been marked by age, stained so black that even Mrs Weasley's most powerful scourging charms had been unable to clean them. The absence of light was added to by the absence of sound. Though there had to be numerous Order members downstairs in the makeshift common rooms, not even the echoes of their voices carried to the floors above, swallowed up by heavy carpets and tapestries that covered every inch of surface area. Because of this, the more or less permanent residents usually woke late.
One exception to this was Harry, who sat under his blankets, wand lighting up squiggled letters on the pages of the diary he was reading. Several days had passed since he'd first gone to Regulus' room, and ever since, he'd been unable to have a good night's sleep. His dreams were so fitful that he woke multiple times at night, so he'd taken to using that to read. Harry had already gone through two of the diaries in the past six nights, which had described Regulus' first year and half of the second. They hadn't held much of note, and only gave a glimpse into the life of an average teenager.
After the first impressions of Hogwarts, entries had been sporadic and more boring than Harry had hoped for. Regulus had described a few of the friends he'd gotten and how they'd met, made note of some trouble others got into, complained about teachers, petty things, and being ignored by Sirius, and at one point started to use the diary as a homework planner instead. He hadn't needed to worry about curses or monsters, and it showed. At eleven and twelve respectively, it didn't look like Sirius' younger brother had had much to worry about yet. The political climate didn't concern him as a Pureblood, and wasn't mentioned apart from a few remarks on Sirius' Mudblood friends. Harry wasn't even sure who was meant with that. To his knowledge, all of the Marauders were half-bloods at least. Even the holidays had appeared to be relaxing. Sirius got in trouble, Regulus was held up as an example of the perfect son, which only seemed to bother the boy minimally. Harry couldn't completely fault him for it, it was clear that parental approval and pride wasn't something to shun easily, certainly not in a society that was entirely built upon the idea that one could only trust family. Harry decided to only read a couple more entries before waking Ron.
2. January, 1974
The house is in absolute chaos still after the festivities. I don't understand why half of the family bothers us afterwards too. I'm glad to be home of course, but seeing mother so stressed out isn't making it easier. Having Kreacher on my side is a blessing when I want to get a breath of fresh air without my parents knowing about it. I like that elf, I shouldn't forget to buy him a birthday present again. Father warned me last year against treating elves like people, but I don't see why that means I can't give him anything. The old muggle woman down the street also gives her dogs presents. And elves are so much better than dogs!
3. January, 1974
Splendid, I was able to make a trip to Diagon without anyone noticing. Well, Siri saw me, but he isn't going to rat me out I'm sure. I wish he would speak to me again. Did I already write about the latest obscenity he brought into the house? Posters of Muggle girls! Unmoving pictures of scantily clad Muggles on those two-wheeled vehicles called bikes. Mother almost screamed the roof off. Naturally, I think my brother only put those things up to annoy her, there is no way that even Siri is actually attracted to animals… I'll be glad when it is the day after tomorrow and I can return to Hogwarts again to escape the conflict.
5. January, 1974
Merlin, I still cannot wrap my head around what happened. At the moment, I am sitting in the Hogwarts express with my friends, who are all sleeping, exhausted from staying up all night. I'm dead tired too, but there are so many thoughts buzzing in my head that I can't find sleep. At two hours to midnight, my parents gave me a travel cloak and a piece of paper with an address to floo towards. What I could never have expected, was to find myself amidst the ruins of an old castle on the moors, with dozens of people waiting in its centre, my friends amongst them. Then, he appeared, the Dark Lord, as amazing and powerful as I've been told. He spoke of the injustices we face, of taking back our world from Muggles, of blood mattering once more. I saw magic far beyond anything I've experienced before, images painting the sky. I never expected him to be so… relatable. He is so angry at how the world around us has been shaped by our ancestors to please those who come to us from the Muggle world. With him at the top, we finally wouldn't need to hide anymore, we could be free to rule over Mugglekind! I have seen myself how blood-traitors and Mudbloods can gain even the pity of someone as pure as my own brother. He doesn't see their lies and falsities. I have a lot to think about now…
A loud yawn startled Harry, who had been engrossed in the first entry that actually showed any of Regulus' thoughts on Voldemort. Knowing Ron was awake and not wanting to be caught doing anything strange, he extinguished his wand, turned around and switched the diary out for the first book he could find – Analysing Animagi, the book he'd received from Sirius – to not make Ron suspicious.
''Mornin''' his friend groggily said. ''Lumos.'' The only source of light in the room, an old table lamp, lit up. Ever since Harry had revealed that using magic was fair game in this house as long as no adults other than Sirius saw it, Ron had been using it constantly. ''You reading again?'' the other commented after putting his wand away with a fond smile, sounding surprised. ''Are you even getting enough sleep?''
''Hmm, interesting book,'' Harry spoke. It was true. While the diaries had kept him up at night, during the day he'd spent a couple of hours devouring the pages of this particular book, which not only described the process of becoming an Animagi, but also held many tales from people who had succeeded in the past… or tried and failed.
''I noticed you've been caught up in it for a while now, what's it about?''
''Animagi. I figured it would be cool to learn how to become one, and Sirius wats to help me achieve it.''
Ron gaped at him. ''That sounds amazing!''
''Yeah… doesn't look easy though, I'm not sure how he or dad managed while at school.'' Harry flipped a few chapters back to look once more at the process. ''Have to hold a mandrake leaf in one's mouth for a month, possibly repeating that a couple of times when there is no clear moon at the end of the month, brew a complicated potion, chant a spell every single day until a lightning storm arrives and then spend 24 hours being awake and chanting nonstop. Honestly, being able to change into an animal at will is wicked and all, but it sounds nigh impossible to achieve while at school with regular classes. Can you imagine if the very last day of the entire process, where you have to chant constantly, we'd have double potions or so and Snape just drags me out of my room? You can't exactly plan for the next lightning storm to fall on a Sunday.''
Ron whistled at that. ''Sounds like one hell of a ritual. But hey, you managed the Triwizard Tournament! So what if you might have to do it all over again if it fails at the end? You can just keep going and try again. With your godfather telling you a couple of tricks maybe, I doubt you can do anything wrong.''
Harry considered that. The entire thing sounded incredibly dangerous. One little mistake and one could end up trapped in a mixture of forms for all eternity. Then again, Ron was right in that Sirius was there to guide him. Messing up the potion would be the least of his worries. And if that was so, he really could just spend more time on it if he was forced to start over. ''Hey, you don't happen to want to try it together, do you?'' Harry asked.
''You mean, you want me to become an Animagus too?'' Ron laughed, sounding a bit disbelieving. ''Not sure if that isn't out of my league… Transfiguration is one of my worst subjects.''
''You got a lot better,'' Harry encouraged Ron, getting excited about the idea himself. ''You had a bad start in first year because of your wand, but ever since getting a new one you haven't received worse than an Exceeds Expectations in any practical tests. It's the theory that gets to you. I'd feel much better knowing that you were watching my back while I try even more dangerous rituals.''
''Maybe… What about 'Mione?''
Harry grimaced. As much as he the girl loosened up a bit on her love for rules over the past years, Hermione had certain principles still. ''Not that I don't want to include her, but I have the feeling that she would force us all to register and… well, I honestly do not see the point of having an awesome second form if everyone can look up what I am. That kind of defeats the point.''
''You're right,'' Ron agreed. ''Especially with the amount of enemies you managed to gather, having a secret identity is the best bonus you could get. Imagine You-Know-Who showing up and then you just peck his eyes out when you turn into a giant eagle!'' Harry started snickering at the idea. He had the feeling that Voldemort would pluck him alive if he attempted that. Ron was onto something though, using it as a secret form to fool enemies wasn't such a bad idea. It would be infinitely easier to escape the Dursley's house next year if he could pull off being an Animagus, providing that he got a practical form.
It was annoying that one couldn't know one's form until the very end. The first transformation was at the end of the process, and while the book described that some mages had dreams before about the animal they would be, it wasn't guaranteed. ''It would completely suck to put a load of work into it and then turn into a fish or so.''
''Oh, I don't know. As a fish I could jump into the pond in my backyard and hide indefinitely from Fred and George if they want to prank me again. No chance anyone will find me, much less recognise me. And hey, if a heron comes to scoop me up, I can transform back before being eaten alive!'' Ron said, enthusiastically waving his arms as he mimicked being unsuccessfully eaten by a heron.
''Such positive thoughts,'' Harry dryly commented.
Ron got up from his own bed and let himself fall on Harry's, leaning over to look at the book as well. ''Imagine, having a large secret together that no-one in Hogwarts must find out! We could sneak out with the invisibility cloak again, find a room where we can practise. Is there any practise involved?''
''Not really, sorry. We have to be careful about brewing this potion absolutely right though, and gather some ingredients, like dew that has not been touched by human feet for at least seven days. With how large the Hogwarts grounds are, I suppose we could gather some near the edge of the Forest or so, where student nor teacher usually goes. Making it look unsuspicious is a different story. Even when being invisible, we need excuses to be absent early in the morning to gather dew.''
Ron stroked his chin. ''Hmm, still exciting enough,'' he decided. ''Trying to keep this from Hermione will be a massive task by itself.''
''Yeah… I'll go and try to find Sirius again to talk about it. He's been strangely absent whenever I tried in the past days. He's told me that he can't go outside, so he must be somewhere in the house, and his Animagus form also isn't exactly hard to miss.''
''Strange, what reason would he have to avoid you?''
Harry frowned. Sirius had many reasons to avoid him at the moment, the massive wall standing between them being their beliefs on who should emerge victorious in this hopefully-not-a-war. He highly doubted that Ron would understand, having no context whatsoever, so he merely shrugged. ''I'll try to talk to him right after breakfast, before he can slip away again. Here, have a look at the book while I take a shower.''
He went to the bathroom and undressed, thinking of nothing in particular until his hand grazed the locket. Halting, the teen held the trinket up and gave it an uncertain look. It probably was best to take it off, to not damage the metal or risk the emeralds coming loose. But the more he thought of taking it off, the more he felt as if his throat constricted. From the corner of his eyes, in the mirror, he could have sworn that the chain had moved on its own. He wished that he'd have a dream with Voldemort again to tell the man of it. The many restless nights had kept him from doing so. He'd even debated whether or not to take the risk of pulling the two-way mirror out that Barty had given him last winter. No, it wasn't worth the risk of discovery. Once he was at Hogwarts, he could try that if he still hadn't had another dream. He thus showered with the locket dangling on his bare chest, unable to bring himself to take it off in the end. He couldn't let such an important object out of his sight, not even here.
After, Harry quickly dressed in a plain t-shirt and rough jeans. Both items had belonged to Dudley until Harry had received them when he'd been eight. He'd finally grown into them, although he'd had to magically lengthen the trousers and shirt a bit to fit his height. Oddly, the teen never regarded his Muggle clothing negatively. He'd never liked having only received Dudley's broken toys, but there was nothing wrong with these clothes. Dudley had always wanted new things, which was why Harry had received most items in pretty good condition by the time that Dudley was old enough to clearly communicate that. He hadn't been able to wear those until much later of course, making do with the tattered, worn-down shirts from when his cousin had been younger, basically until starting Hogwarts. Now though, he could finally use all those that had been relatively untouched which Harry had stowed away, first in his room and later his trunk. In all honesty, he'd rather forgotten about his style of clothing until he came downstairs and the old guy with always-smoking-pipe remarked:
''Hey, Potter. How come you always look like a Muggle?''
Being rather caught off guard at the sudden question, especially since he hadn't conversed much before with Mundungus Fletcher, he failed to reply before Mrs Weasley scolded the man.
''Leave the boy alone! He's used to this from home, aren't you dear?'' Then, she gave his clothes a critical look. ''Though you could do with some more colour. Maybe this Christmas, your pullover will be brighter. What do you think?''
''Erhm, sound great Mrs Weasley,'' he spoke. He honestly didn't care what colour she made it. That she made him a pullover as she also did for all of her children was so touching that he wouldn't have complained if she only gave him chestnut brown ones like Ron's for the rest of his life. ''Where is the rest?'' he asked, looking around at the table and seeing only a handful of people who had come down for breakfast, which appeared to just have been served. Had he and Ron not come down now, he imagined Mrs Weasley to have called for them in a minute. After the night shifts, most people devoured breakfast here before quietly returning home or to work. As breakfast was always served around 10:00 am, those who worked at the Ministry and thus started early, had taken to popping in for an early lunch break. At the moment, only Fletcher, Sirius and the usual Weasleys minus Arthur were there apart from himself. Without a word, Sirius took a folded up Prophet that lay on the table and threw it at Harry.
''Catch and read,'' he said, as Harry plucked it out of the air. Giving Sirius a wary look, the teen spread it out on the table, his heart jumping a bit when reading it.
Hidden horrors revealed by Beauxbatons Champion!
Not long after rising to the top of her country by winning the Triwizard Tournament, Miss Fleur Delacour has admirably used her newfound position for charities, sponsorships and aid, as reported last month. All of those had significant impact, yet none so much as the tearful story shared with your reporter three days ago.
Harry silently commended Voldemort on thinking of moving the time the interview had supposedly been held at, it would have been quite suspicious to publish it right after the chaotic revelation of Voldemort's return. Harry's only concern was that not enough time would be left. The beings and beasts in the room had made a deal with Voldemort for action within one month as of that day as opposed to the three that the Dark Lord had wanted to influence the political climate among magicians. Now, almost a week more was gone from that timespan.
Miss Delacour, revealed to be part-Veela during the Tournament, had a scheduled interview to talk about her latest choice to financially support a facility for mental care of various beings. When asked why this was so close to her heart, the conversation took an unexpected turn. ''My grandmother never had this before,'' Miss Delacour said. ''I wish dearly that she had had the opportunity to access such a facility back when-'' The Champion broke off here, and almost called the rest of the interview off until your faithful reporter managed to calm her. In a shocking reveal, it turns out that Miss Delacour's grandmother, Séraphine Delacour, was kidnapped during her youth and taken to a place only known as 'the Cages', to be sold off to bidders. This was instantly followed by Miss Delacour informing me that this was not an isolated case, and that many beings have suffered the same fate since. Yes, you are reading this right, ladies and gentlemen! Against the internationally recognised Being-Ownership-Ban from 1830 that protects the rights of intelligent Beings plus the exceptions of Centaurs and Merpeople, a group of wealthy wizards and witches from various countries has set up a trade system. Plucked from all over Europe as younglings, Beings are sold and kept in captivity with few managing to escape this life.
To bring you full accuracy on this story, the Daily Prophet put an overnight team at work to find out more based on several names and stories that Miss Delacour could provide us with. Read more about these individual stories on page 2 to 5. Reader discretion advised, images may be frightening for young children.
As last words on the situation, miss Delacour calls us all to action: ''Now that this is out, I hope that some good will come of it. I realise that many might not care for the fate of other races, but these are thinking, breathing people deserving of their rights. Men and women from all over Europe have broken the law and abuse those they think are beneath them daily. Do not let them get away with this. If enough people call for justice, it is my firm belief that justice will be delivered.''
Harry was about to turn the page when Molly snatched the paper away. ''You shouldn't look at the other pictures dear,'' she said with a nervous smile. ''They are quite… horrifying. I'm shocked that they were allowed to print them.'' He didn't protest, Voldemort had already described the contents of Fleur's envelope vividly enough. If the pictures were anything like the abused Muggleborns he'd received images of himself, he could do without. Ron was not so silent about it.
''Mum! It said 'frightening for young children,' we're fifteen! Besides, can you really say that Harry hasn't seen horrors before? Have you forgotten that he saved Ginny from a Basilisk by stabbing it with a sword? In the throat?''
Mrs Weasley gave Harry a look that could only be described as pained. ''I… I know… I… you shouldn't need to see more,'' she almost pleaded. As heart-breaking as her whisper was, the teen steeled himself. Sirius hadn't defended him during that first meeting for nothing. He had seen too much already to really be considered a child, and it would be counterproductive to shy away now.
''It sounds important to know,'' he spoke, holding out his hand again. ''I know Fleur, she would never have called out for help if the situation wasn't desperate.''
With trembling fingers, the woman let go of the paper so Harry could leaf through the rest. That the pictures were black-and-white did nothing to conceal the awfulness it showed. A grainy shot of the auction room, a stripped-down woman being forced to kneel on the podium as she screamed into the camera, fangs visible. A thin centaur fowl with too many scars to count lying in a cramped cot, breathing heavily. A ring where two werewolf cubs were engaged in a dog-fight, spurred on by gleaming whips. Each photo came with its own story, and many other stories followed that were not accompanied by visuals.
''To answer your question of before, the Order is up in arms,'' Sirius spoke at last. ''Trying to find out what is true about this. It seems that Dumbledore had no knowledge of an operation going on as described and certainly not about involvement of any British politicians as is mentioned in one of the stories. Our priority lies in blocking Voldemort's plans, but we cannot ignore such an outrage. We're still gathering information first while trying to see whether or not the various Ministries take official action. Sadly, I doubt they will since it is mainly werewolves and other dark creatures who appear to suffer.''
''The Order will act?'' Harry asked, surprised. That had been unexpected. He'd thought that Dumbledore's organisation would only support Light causes.
''We'll see about that,'' Mundungus sniffed. ''It all sound suspicious to me. This has supposedly been going on for centuries and now they're all coming out with stories? I think that there is a lot of scum that wants to distract us from the fact that their buddy You-Know-Who is back. Most are stronger, heavier and faster than us humans, you really think that all of them just got 'caught'? I don't trust any dark creatures as far as I can throw 'm.''
Sirius slammed a fist on the table, interrupting Fletcher, his face entirely red. ''I won't have that sort of talk in my house!'' he barked, enraged. ''How dare you say that while Remus puts his life on the line for all of us!''
Fletcher reeled back and started muttering: ''Remus! Well, but Remus isn't really dark, is he? He maybe has a werewolf problem, but he's a light wizard still. Surely, he's an exception.''
Harry threw the man an incredulous look. ''You think that the people who kidnap and sell werewolf children make a difference between those who are light and dark magicians during the rest of the month? You can't honestly say that you think they deserve this.''
''Not deserve no,'' Fletcher spoke, eyes flicking left and right, the hostility around the table had clearly been unexpected. ''I'm just saying that they might be exaggerating a little to better their standing.''
''You have lived through a war led by a Dark Lord, Dung,'' Harry's godfather spoke, his voice icy. ''You know what horrors humans are capable of.''
''Dark witches and wizards, yes! And dark creatures! They describe well-known politicians and even a philanthropist here as having to do with this, I can't believe it!'' He stood, angrily extinguishing his pipe with a dirty piece of cloth. ''I see when I am unwelcome, I hope that all of you have more sense next time I am around. I don't understand why you all suddenly take the word of the Prophet for granted; they write drivel half of the time.''
The tension left the room with Mundungus Fletcher, Sirius lowering himself on his chair again, glaring at the door. ''I hope no-one else has a problem with werewolves?'' he harshly asked, squinting at most of them. Neither Harry nor Ron were subject to his scrutinising look, most likely since they'd aided Professor Lupin before.
''Of course not,'' Mrs Weasley spoke. ''Right, boys?'' the tone was even sharper than usual, but it had been unnecessary. Bill maintained respectful relationships with Goblins and other beings, and Fred and George instantly started defending Lupin as one of the best Defence teachers they'd ever had.
''When the news first came out, I couldn't believe it,'' Ginny finally piped up. ''I think it helped that we got to know Professor Lupin as a human first without prejudices getting in the way. I admit that, had I known first that he was a werewolf, I might not have taken the time to get to know him. I only ever heard of them as bloodthirsty… you-know-what. I think that Professor Lupin greatly changed the minds of most people he taught. He didn't only teach us Defence, but also acceptance.''
''Well-said,'' Harry smiled. ''I always liked the talks I had with him over a cup of tea. Where is Professor Lupin now?'' he asked Sirius, who shrugged.
''Missions, trying to convince other werewolves that siding with Voldemort would not be ideal for them. He didn't keep any of his promises the first time around either.''
''I thought promises are usually kept after winning?'' Harry enquired coolly. ''As far as I know, he didn't win the war before dying.'' Judging by the raised eyebrows he got, he was the one with the unpopular opinion at the table now, but he didn't care much. Not everything was the fault of the evil Boggart-like Voldemort they'd all created.
''I guess,'' Sirius replied, looking slightly pissed off as he attacked his egg on toast.
In an attempt to deescalate the situation, Harry nudged Ron and asked: ''Hey Sirius, Ron and I had something we wanted to talk to you about after breakfast. To do with the book you gave me…'' This captured his godfather's interest, Sirius' mood changing instantaneously, a far more youthful and delighted expression appearing on his face.
''I didn't think you would still want… Of course! Wo needs breakfast?'' he said, jumping up. ''Let's go now!''
''You need breakfast,'' Harry sternly said, at the exact same time as Mrs Weasley did. He looked at Ron's mother and couldn't help but chuckle. ''You're still terribly thin, Sirius. Come on and eat, talking won't run away. As long as you don't,'' he added, hinting at all the times he hadn't been able to find Sirius. The man at least had the decency to look guilty. Harry proceeded to load his own plate with mushrooms, tomatoes and toast. During breakfast, he got engaged in an interesting conversation with Bill about his work at Gringotts as a curse breaker. It was fascinating to hear how much Bill knew about wards. Only when Ron tapped him on the shoulder, did Harry look up.
''We'd be ready to go now if that's alright.''
''Oh yeah, sure!'' Harry spoke, shovelling he last few -now cold- mushrooms in his mouth. ''Speak to you later Bill!'' Getting excited, he followed his friend and joined up with Sirius, who had been lingering at the entrance to the large kitchen. Together, they went upstairs to the drawing room.
''Least likely to be bothered here,'' Sirius once more said while eyeing his family tree with a glint of hatred. ''So,'' he turned to the two teens who were looking at him with expectancy. ''This means that both of you…?''
''If that would be alright,'' Ron said, suddenly looking a bit self-conscious, the tips of his ears turning red.
''Course it is! Much more fun -and smart- to attempt this… uhm... project with another person. You both have a general gist of it?''
Harry nodded and answered: ''I read through most of the book by now. I had no idea how complicated the process was going to be to be honest. Or that I wouldn't know my form until the end. One question that the book didn't answer, is if everyone can technically become an Animagus or not.''
''Everyone should be able to, yes. Most people just don't bother, especially because of the registration. Don't let that stop you,'' Sirius grinned with a wink. ''I wish I would have had a book to describe it back then. It took James and I the better part of three years to figure out all the details by combing through countless tomes about transfiguration and potions, and picking up snippets from the only Animagus we knew, McGonagall.''
''I got the impression that you had used the same book as you'd given me?'' Harry asked in surprise.
''No, that was written during my stay in prison. It looks like there are multiple methods. I have a copy of this book and while the potion used is the same as we had, James and I went for a different approach. Wouldn't have been able to manage it within a year otherwise. Clear night skies aren't exactly a guarantee in Scotland.''
''So how did you do it?'' Ron asked, leaning against the windowsill.
''The first part was mostly the same. I stuck a mandrake leaf beneath my tongue with a sticking charm, gathered all other necessary ingredients and prepared for brewing the potion. James meanwhile looked into weather magic.''
''Isn't that illegal?'' Harry asked.
''Well yes, it is dark magic I suppose,'' Sirius nonchalantly shrugged. ''I told you that your dad and I didn't like following the Hogwarts curriculum to the letter, certainly not when we were younger.'' Harry threw a short look at Ron, who appeared to be both horrified and impressed. ''Anyways, we weren't about to risk having to deal with a foul-tasting leaf in our mouths for longer than necessary. Peter set up the base potion while your dad and I ensured the sky was clear. It helped that Remus couldn't catch on as it had to be done during a full moon and he was in the Shack already.
The next part was something we were less sure about. There was much information about the creation of the Animagus potion and how to store it, but none whatsoever on how or when to take it. All three of us figured that it made sense that we would have to practise the transformation somehow, and as we knew that it was connected to lightning storms, we took a small dose of the potion each time a storm appeared and tried to transform body parts while chanting the incantation we'd figured out. To not fall out of practise, we used weather magic a few more times to create storms when we had free time, usually around the full moon. This is also why James and I managed it first: when having a bit left of the potion still, we managed a full-body transformation. Peter needed three more times and only did it in a fit of panic after swallowing the very last drop of the potion that we had: he'd already emptied his own vial and used the leftovers from James and I.''
''Sounds a lot more exciting of a method if you'd ask me,'' Ron commented. ''It would also solve the whole 'having to chant 24-hours on a single day or else you have to start over.''
''It was not without risks,'' Sirius warned, though the glint in his eyes told Harry that he added that more as an additional bait to use the Marauder's method than a real warning to shy them away from it. Predictably, Ron took it.
''We're Gryffindors! We don't mind a bit of risk! Right, Harry?''
Harry started pacing and thought about it. It did sound more convenient with timing than the one that was written down in the book he had. Additionally, he would realise his form earlier on from single body parts and could perhaps break it off if his animal was an undesirable one. The Marauders had all been very lucky to be mammals however, where the anatomy of their bodies still lined up with their animal form, making it easy to practise it one arm or leg at a time. What if he would transform into something that didn't have four legs? What if, theoretically, he would be a fish or snake, glue an arm to his side and then would be unable to reverse it? Or if he would be an insect and was left with a few more limbs when unable to control the full transformation yet? Partial transformations were even seen as dangerous to fix when it came to regular human-to-animal transfiguration. Krum had admitted to having problems with his teeth ever since transforming half into a shark, having been left with a couple more teeth that had to be removed in a painful process afterwards.
''You think the risks are worth it?'' Harry asked Sirius, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear the reasoning behind it.
''Personally, yes. Your friend here makes a good point about screwing up on the very last day. It could take years to complete still if you stick to the book. And hey, you have one of the best Healers and two transfiguration masters available at Hogwarts even if something does go wrong.''
''True, Dumbledore could fix any mistake in a heartbeat!'' Ron agreed. Harry gave an unhappy huff at that. He'd rather try apparating across the country to get to Voldemort before showing his Animagus form to Dumbledore. He wanted to be able to get away from the Dursleys with this, having the one man who insisted on having him there know of his secret form would be very counterproductive. Trusting any other staff members of Hogwarts with it was still a maybe in his mind, especially Madam Pomfrey wasn't one to instantly tell the Headmaster about it if he asked. All Healers took vows of secrecy, including the school nurse. Unless she thought his life would be in danger, she couldn't inform Dumbledore. The most he'd get to know was that Harry had attempted becoming an Animagus, which was possibly not even something the man would disagree with per sé.
''Let's do it then,'' he decided, sitting down on the floor. ''The potion instructions are already in the book, so I think it would be best if you first tell us a bit about the weather magic you used.'' This was comfortable territory, Harry found. He hadn't touched weather magic yet, but knew of the theory and that it was heavy magic. ''What kind of sacrifice is needed? What other conditions have to be fulfilled?'' Ron and Sirius settled down on the floor as well -as there were only two chairs in the room, it would have been odd for any of them to use those- and his godfather began telling him everything they needed to know.
''I can't wait to get started!'' Ron said afterwards, sitting in their bedroom again. ''The thought of having to use dark magic is a bit intimidating though…'' he grimaced. ''Never thought I'd ever touch that.''
''As long as it is nothing with ill intent, I don't see why it's illegal really,'' Harry spoke. ''Also, the sacrifice is nothing to worry about I think, no wonder that weather magic was used often in the past. For each time you summon weather, you get two more days of unfavourable weather within that month? I couldn't really care less if it storms outside the castle. And from what Sirius told us, it's not like there will be sudden floods or other natural disasters that come out of it, only mild annoyances.''
''Agreed, it's fair for having the weather we want at our disposal when we need it. Makes me wonder what other dark spells are similar to this.''
''Oh, do I have a book for you,'' Harry smirked. He stood up and rummaged through his trunk, withdrawing Praecantatio Levis et Gravis: a correct classification. When returning all the books he'd borrowed from Voldemort, he'd been allowed to keep one, and hadn't been able to resist holding onto this particular book. It might be a tad dry and not be the most useful one, being only a list of spells and descriptions, but having a tome filled with Voldemort's familiar handwriting was too hard to give up on. ''This is the book I read before starting the Tournament. I think I mentioned a couple of spells to you that were, surprisingly, actually dark or light. You can borrow it until we go back to Hogwarts.''
''Don't recall, sorry'' Ron said, taking the book and eyeing it. ''Thanks, Harry. Hey, what animal do you think you'll be?''
The teen let himself fall back on his bed. ''You know, I haven't a clue. It is supposed to reflect one's personality but… I don't know how to describe myself at all. Some people can instantly be linked with an animal, you know? Like, I have no doubt in my mind that Snape would be a vampire bat, and that Sirius is a dog is hardly surprising to me. Myself though? No idea. I'd like to be something flying if I'd have the choice, flying is the best feeling in the whole world. As much as I love brooms, it would be awesome to do without.''
''Think I'd prefer to have something sturdy myself. I also don't know what I'll be. I wish with everything I am that it's not a weasel, I don't want to give Malfoy an excuse to make endless jokes over it if he'd ever find out.'' Harry burst out laughing at that. ''Hey, it might well be!'' Ron protested.
''I really doubt that you'll be a weasel,'' Harry sniggered. ''But who knows? If you will be one, I solemnly swear that I'll do everything in my power to prevent Malfoy from ever knowing. ''You know, I wonder if one's Animagus form is the same as one's Patronus,'' he theorised. ''Both are supposed to reflect the caster's personality, so it would make sense for them to be the same animal, right? In that case I'd be a stag. Not very practical…''
''There might be something to that, but I'm not sure if it's accurate,'' Ron said. ''I've heard that Patronuses can change in one's lifetime, there's more to it than only personality. I always thought that your Patronus was a stag because it was your dad's Animagus form and he protects you. Maybe it's just wishful thinking from my side. Dad's Patronus is actually a weasel,'' he said, grimacing. ''That might mean bad news for me if they're the same and can be inherited or so.''
''I'm pretty sure Sirius can cast a Patronus, I think I'll go ask him,'' Harry spoke, jumping up. ''I'll be back in a bit!''
''Kay, I'll have a look at this,'' his friend replied, waving with the book he'd just received.
Once again, it took a frustratingly long time of wandering through the house before Harry came to the conclusion that Sirius was nowhere to be found. Again. Resolute to solving the mystery, he asked the Weasleys downstairs and the few people who popped in and out of the common room over the course of the next hour. When that didn't help, he started searching for clues, trying to be careful about other people seeing his use of magic. Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of a door he had never noticed before, tucked away in a shadowed corner of one of the common rooms at the backside of the house. To and from it led many muddy paw prints, most of which were faded. On closer inspection, Harry saw that the bottom part of the door was movable, like a type of giant cat flap. Dog flap might be more appropriate here. He turned the handle to no avail, and even a whispered 'Alohomora' didn't work. Figuring that he was still smaller than Sirius was when transformed, Harry ducked and tried to wring himself through the opening in the door, scrambling out of it on hands and knees.
He stood and blinked into the sudden light. In front of him was a small patch of rough tiles, overgrown with all sorts of half-withered plants. In the middle of it sat Sirius, transformed back into human form, looking up at the sky.
''Siri?'' he asked. The man's head almost whipped around.
''Regi?'' he asked, and Harry's blood froze in his veins. But no, Sirius' eyes were not clouded over this time, only confused. It had been Harry's own mistake. After reading so much of the diaries, he'd accidentally used Regulus' nickname for his brother, a nickname that no-one else seemed to use, not even Lupin.
''No, Harry, sorry,'' he spoke, walking towards his godfather. ''Sorry, am I not allowed to call you that?''
''It's… fine. Unexpected,'' the man answered, giving him a calculating look. ''Only my brother ever used to call me that. The others stuck to 'Padfoot or Paddy','' he explained. ''I hadn't thought anyone would find me here.''
''You underestimated how nagging and determined I can be,'' Harry grinned.
''And curious, don't forget curious,'' Sirius snorted.
''Insanely curious,'' he agreed, sitting next to the man. ''Didn't know there was a garden here. There are no windows to this side, are there?''
''Not on the first few floors. There is a window looking out over it in my old bedroom, as well as in my brother's next to it. The floor below also has a window, see?'' Sirius said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the back of the house. Indeed, Harry saw a couple of windows, as stained with age as the ones in front. ''There used to be a veranda, ages ago. My great-grandparents, whom my dear father inherited it from, decided that they weren't a fan of plants or taking care of anything in general. They removed the veranda and had it all tiled up. As you can see now, some weeds survived, that's all. My parents never bothered with it either. Only I came out here often to look at the stars or to get out of the house in general when I wasn't allowed to go anywhere else. It helped me to not go crazy then, and it has the same effect still.'' He sighed. ''I hate being cooped up.''
''I understand that fully,'' Harry muttered. Sirius threw him a slightly scathing look, as if he couldn't believe that. It was then that Harry realised that he'd always avoided the topic of the Dursleys. He'd confided in his godfather bits and pieces: that he'd been beaten occasionally, had had to do many chores and was looked down on, but he hadn't breathed a word about his isolation punishments. ''You know the Dursleys didn't treat me well,'' he muttered. ''Their preferred way of punishment was to shut me in, sometimes for days or weeks with only two short bathroom breaks for the day. They even installed bars on my windows at one point when I got the larger room instead of my old cupboard. So yes, I know how you feel.''
''Harry…'' the man said, lost for words. Harry let himself be drawn into a tight hug. ''I'm so sorry that you went through that,'' he whispered. ''As much as I am questioning other decisions you've made, getting out of that house at any cost was the best thing you ever could have done.''
''Thank you,'' he whispered back, his throat constricting. ''I was so afraid that I'd grow mad there, each and every summer. Even before I went to Hogwarts, summer holidays were the worst as I couldn't go to school and have out-time then. I'm so grateful for all the times I didn't have the stay there. Ron broke me out once, ripped the bars out of the window frame with a flying car to save me. Once I ran away at the start, when I'd just caught Wormtail and last month…'' he hesitated, unsure if he should keep speaking.
''You ran away again?'' Sirius guessed. Harry wrestled with himself. Letting Sirius know that Voldemort could waltz into the Dursley's place without problems brought risks with it. Then again, he could trust his godfather not to spread this information, and it might pull the man on his side with the whole 'returning there once a year for protection' bullshit rule.
''He came for me,'' he said, unable to stop the relief and gratitude from entering his voice. ''Voldemort took me away from there.'' Sirius tensed up, the only indication of his feelings about that information.
''And the Dursleys are still alive?'' the man spoke at long last.
''It would have been suspicious if they'd all mysteriously died,'' Harry said, pulling away to gauge Sirius' reaction. ''He promised them a very painful demise in the future . I'm not sure what to think of that yet.''
''I'm sure you won't cry when they die, but murder…?'' Worried, silver eyes met his.
''I don't know,'' Harry said, looking away. ''One of my goals is for him to stop killing Muggles. But the Dursleys have brought me nothing but grief. It is hard not to hate them once I realised how much abuse they put me through. I tried to deny it when it was first pointed out to me how abnormal my treatment there was, defended their actions even,'' he spat, disgusted at the thought. ''But they don't deserve it. They don't deserve any of it. For years, they depended on the exploitation of a child to run their household. They should have some sort of justice at least. Not death maybe, but something. What they did was criminal and they knew it. You told me yourself how your own parents treated you. Can you honestly tell me that you never wished they would just stop breathing?''
Sirius gave him a tired smile. ''I even considered doing it myself the night I left,'' he admitted. ''I thought 'the world can do without you'. Only because of Regulus did I leave them alive ad ran away in the dead of night.''
''Then you know how conflicted I feel. And I don't even care about Dudley, he was as bad as them from the start.'' They sat together in a strange silence. Harry felt as if he was connected to Sirius at this moment, two kindred souls with the same kind of upbringing and thoughts about that. Whether it was healthy or not was a different point altogether.
''What animal do you think I'll be?'' Harry blurted out.
''A lion would be fitting,'' Sirius chuckled. ''You're naturally brave and sometimes a tad lazy when it comes to school work if I may believe all of Hermione's nagging that I heard when stalking you as a dog.''
''Hey, I've tried to improve that,'' Harry pouted. ''I even started doing extracurricular learning and I'm not just talking about everything that He has taught me. I figured that Runes and Arithmacy would be rather useful in the future. The Triwizard Tournament didn't make it easy to catch up to that though, I hope to do enough extra learning this year that I can take the additional O.W.L.s. If not, perhaps the year after. It would be a shame to block off so many career options, I was stupid for picking Divination and Care for magical creatures as electives. I have no talent for either and no desire to pursue a career in them.''
''You did not officially change courses?'' Sirius asked.
''I never heard of that being an option, I only know that one can opt to take extra O.W.L.s, but not the courses before it once the electives have been chosen. Hermione dropped some during and after third year, but that was only allowed as she had already signed up for the rest in the first place. I missed an entire school year in both subjects.''
''Shame, self-study isn't easy, definitely not with everything else that always manages to land on your plate.''
''Good thing that I have you to help with the Animagus transformation. Thank you, really. It means a lot to me.''
''I'm happy to help.''
''Since you think I'll be a lion, I guess that the form of one's Patronus has nothing to do with it?''
Sirius scratched his ear in thought. ''Complicated. Both do take specific animal forms based on the caster… It is possible for them to be the same, yes. James had a stag for his Patronus and Animagus form. McGonagall has a cat for both as well. For people who have a strong tie to one particular animal, I suppose it is logical for both to be the same. It's not too often the case though. My own is a lion for example. I always saw it as a symbol of my House defending me against the rest of the world. Patroni take into account a lot more than only personality.'' He eyed Harry critically. ''It is still possible for you, you are very alike James. Also a bit of Lily of course, but she never learned to be an Animagus so I have no idea what her form was.''
''What was her Patronus?''
''A doe, which I doubt is her Animagus form. Patroni often change to match with your loved one. The first time she cast that spell, she was already married to James.'' A stag wouldn't be too bad, Harry figured. A bit large and flashy maybe to use when running from a town like Little Whinging, but easy for hiding in forests if he ever wanted to not be found. ''in the end, you won't know till you've tried it kiddo,'' Sirius smiled. ''Go at it with an open mind. No matter what your animal turns out to be, it is a reflection of yourself, and it won't do to scorn yourself.''
''Says the one with one of the most awesome animal forms ever,'' Harry snorted. ''Who wouldn't want to be a giant bad-ass dog that superstitious folks believe to foretell death itself?''
Sirius' smile turned sad. ''That same superstition also makes it so that most magicians avoid me. It was handy when I was on the run and yet… I sometimes wish I would turn into a more loveable dog.''
''You're very loveable!'' Harry protested. Sirius only shook his head and started staring at the sky again.
''If you don't mind, don't tell Molly where my hiding spot is. She means well, but she's been trying to find me often in her cleaning rage. I'd rather not decide over what stays in this house and not every moment of the day. I'd prefer to burn it all if possible.''
''Maybe one day,'' Harry said, nudging Sirius' shoulder. ''One day you burn down this place and I set fire to the Dursley's house, how does that sound?''
''Lovely,'' the man replied, completely unironically for once.
''I'll go inside again if you don't mind,'' Harry spoke. ''I told Ron that I'd be right back, that has been quite a bit of time ago, he might be worried. It was good talking to you. If I can help you with anything or if you want to talk, don't hesitate okay?'' Sirius waved him off, which did not diminish his worry over the man. What would Sirius have done if this garden hadn't been there? Would he have just gone outside anyways? And would he still, once more time passed or Harry wasn't there anymore? How long until other people would notice Sirius' lapses in mental health? Today appeared to be a good day, but that wasn't always the case.
Harry made more attempts to speak to Sirius over the next few days, which was rather hard. The articles kept pouring in with each Daily Prophet, reporting more stories, calling people to action, calling out involved witches and wizards, painting a target on the back of each and everyone who profited from this trade. The tactic was rather bold and aggressive, which thankfully did not come across as odd since this was how the Daily Prophet had operated often. The 'negative' part about it was that many in the Order reacted like Fletcher had: doubting the credibility of the paper as well as the published stories within. On the other hand, this ensured that not everyone in the Order was willing to do something about it, stalling missions to help in order to wait for a response from the Ministries, which didn't come. Even if they would agree to an active course now, it would take many more meetings and concrete plans to set it all up. By now, that definitely meant that Voldemort would get there first if he was able to uphold his promise by the end of August.
Conversations with Ron turned more interesting too, he'd been baffled by the book Harry had given him and wouldn't stop asking about it. Harry perhaps let on more than he'd originally planned to about his knowledge of Dark Arts, but Ron kept questioning further. He'd firmly believed in the reasoning behind why dark spells were dark and light spells were light, as most people did. Having a text that challenged that was a fascinating thing for him. When Harry asked why Ron was so enthusiastic about this when he didn't usually like reading books so much, he said:
''I'm not a fan of long-winded texts that try to describe endless theories on as many pages as possible. This is more like a handbook. It has short, to-the-point descriptions of spells and I can skip the ones I don't know anyways. It helps that I can directly apply this too, it's about spells that we both already know or will learn in the coming years. Knowing the true nature of things is key in understanding everything around us.''
Harry was impressed by that insight, he hadn't expected something so deep from Ron of all people. It appeared that his friend's way of thinking did not only apply to chess. Now he thought on it, Ron had always been the one to come up with analysing situations around them. He'd not only been the one to win that war on the chess board when getting to the philosopher's stone, but had also figured out which key had to fit the lock using deductive logic. In addition, Ron had been the one to put all the clues together about the location of the Chamber of Secrets and dealt with Lockhart after by forcing him to come with.
With the company of Ron and occasionally Sirius, the days went by fast even if he wasn't allowed to go to meetings or did anything interesting. At night, he kept reading, though the more sleep he'd miss due to constantly waking up from shallow dreams, the harder it was to concentrate on the handwritten texts, especially when the rest of Regulus' second year at Hogwarts did not turn out to be much more exciting than the first had been. The teen started gathering newspapers with Voldemort's activity, occasionally making analyses of the Dark Lord's progress or plans, but it was all very one-dimensional, a clearly spoilt Pureblood child agreeing to whatever he'd been taught by his parents, admiring Voldemort from a distance for righting the 'wrongs'. It was disturbing to see how far Voldemort had really gone back then to convince Purebloods that he was on their side. If Harry didn't know better, he would think that the man really had bought into the blood ideology himself back then.
He recalled the words of his parents, about Voldemort being saner and more reasonable now he was connected to Harry in a way. Could that hold truth to it? But Voldemort had been that way before, hadn't he, before the resurrection ritual…
He wished dearly to speak to the man again, ask about the progress with plans for freeing the locked-up Beings, about how Voldemort kept his return under wraps so well even with a Death Eater confirming it at the Ministry, and a million questions about magic. His hand wandered towards the locket that rested on his chest, an idea forming. The Horcruxes were pieces of Voldemort, and the ones locked in objects were supposedly active. Hell, Diary-Tom had been able to even show him memories and speak to him. Would this locket have the same kind of abilities?
He glanced over to the other side of the room where Ron lay, his eyes used enough to the darkness that he could make out a bulge of blankets where his friend lay, soft snoring noises reaching him. Did he dare?
Abruptly, he let the locket slip from his fingers. Was he going insane? He only kept the Horcrux safe until he could give it to Voldemort, nothing more. No good would come from experimenting with this. He'd been warned multiple times by its creator how dangerous these items were. The diary had almost sucked Ginny's soul out! Surely, he would be able to get in contact with the Dark Lord soon. If only he could dream again… The locket felt suddenly very heavy and he could have sworn to hear an angry hissing in the room. Harry shook his head, the lack of rest was getting to him. With a sigh, he lay down, wishing for sleep that wouldn't come as his fingers absentmindedly wound themselves around the chain.
Harry's insomnia did not go unnoticed much longer. Ron had already commented on it a couple of times and Mrs Weasley expressed concerns as well at breakfast. What he hadn't expected, was for Ginny to corner him two weeks before they would leave to Hogwarts. Harry had just returned to another trip into Regulus' bedroom. As the diaries had not proven as interesting as he'd thought and his sleepy eyes could barely decipher the handwritten words, he'd started reading a few of the other books that interested him from the room. He'd barely stashed away 'Confronting the Faceless' when the Ginny entered.
''Knocking was invented for a reason,'' he grumbled, not feeling particularly up for conversation.
''Yes, for you to say 'Enter', after which I would come in anyways a second later,'' she retorted, letting herself fall on Ron's bed. ''Where's my brother?''
''Helping your mum. Who was searching for you.''
''Ah, that was why she was yelling my name before? Good thing I didn't react.'' She cocked her head and frowned, giving him a critical look. ''Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look… pretty bad.''
''Can't sleep much,'' he mumbled. ''Too much on my mind.''
''You haven't picked up any weird stuff in this house, have you?'' she asked after a moment of hesitation. Harry's heart started pounding. How did she…?
''What do you mean?'' he asked as neutrally as he could muster.
Ginny's expression became clouded for a moment. ''This house…. It is full of dark things.'' She shivered lightly. ''You arrived later so you might not know… we found so many twisted objects. Instruments used for vile purposes, cursed mirrors, poisons. This whole place breathed hostility when we first arrived. I understand full well that your godfather does not want to stay here. I know how affected you were by Dementors, I just wondered if you maybe picked up something else that could… influence you.'' He shifted uncomfortably as the chain around his neck tightened. His heartbeat grew more rapid. ''Ever since I've been…'' she paused a few seconds, gathering up resolve. ''Since I've been possessed by that diary, I am a lot more sensitive to these kinds of things. And wary, very wary. I don't want to pry but… if you took anything from this house that you can't really place, anything that maybe called out to you… I suggest you put it back where you found it.''
''There's nothing like that,'' he lied flatly. She didn't seem to believe him entirely. ''Maybe I am just picking up bad vibes or so,'' he added.
''Yeah… yeah, that must be it. Sorry for worrying, I hope that you will be able to sleep again soon,'' she muttered, then stood. ''In either case, it'll be good to be at Hogwarts again, won't it be?''
''Absolutely,'' he agreed, managing a weak smile that didn't feel like it reached his eyes even though he had intended for it to.
Hogwarts… home.
The chain loosened again, the locket humming pleasantly.
Please read and review!
Next up will be the end of the summer holidays. Anything you want Harry to do during those still before he will continue his journey to Hogwarts?
xx GeMerope