Chapter Fifteen
Harry left Severus's office feeling lighter than he had in a while. His detention had consisted of Severus waving his wand to organise the large pile of posters and books before they settled down on the sofa in Severus's office with pumpkin juice and large sandwiches for a good chat.
Severus was worried about Harry's lessons with Dumbledore. He hadn't said as much but Harry could tell, he hoped his father's worries would be eased after Harry had had his first lesson.
That was where Harry was on his way to.
Dumbledore's office was a large, rounded office with a small bedroom in a small round room off to one side. It was always filled with strange magical items and books as well as around fifty portraits of previous headmaster and mistresses that often pretended to be asleep, although Harry last year had found out there weren't actually sleeping.
The entrance to the Headmaster's office was guarded by a large stone gargoyle. Harry was used to going up to it by now.
"Acid Pops." Harry said clearly.
The gargoyle jumped aside and Harry stepped onto the moving staircase and within less than a minute he was standing outside the office door.
He didn't even need to knock before the door swung open and Harry could see Dumbledore sitting at his desk, smiling pleasantly at Harry.
"Harry, do come in!" Dumbledore said, gesturing to the empty seat opposite him.
Harry walked over and sat down. Logically Harry knew that Dumbledore had been a teacher at Hogwarts for many year. He was a very good teacher, and the pass marks for Transfiguration while he'd been teaching were one of the highest they'd ever been but it was strange for Harry, who'd only ever known Dumbledore as a headmaster and as a result a little detached from the students.
Harry waited a few moment before shuffling in his seat, "So what's the lesson today?" he said, pulling out his wand.
Dumbledore smiled, "You won't be needing your wand today Harry, we will be learning a different weapon."
"What weapon is that?" Harry asked.
"Information, in this case, information about the past." Dumbledore said cryptically.
He stood up and walked over to a cupboard, lifting out his old stone pensive and carrying it over to the desk.
"I believe you have been in memories before?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded. He wasn't sure how many memories Dumbledore was aware he'd snooped in and wasn't about to volunteer that information.
"I have a large collection of memories, many of which are mine, but just as many are from others." Dumbledore informed him.
Harry wasn't sure what to say, why was Dumbledore telling him about memories?
"I am sure there is much you wish to know, for instance, why Voldemort tried to kill you, those long fifteen years ago." Dumbledore said, looking intently at Harry.
Harry made sure not to make eye contact; he knew that eye contact was very helpful when trying to read someone's mind and there was no chance that Harry's Occlumency skills were strong enough to block someone as talented and practised as Dumbledore.
"I wish I knew the answer." Dumbledore sighed, "But from now on we are entering the difficult world of memory and guess work. From now on, I might well be as wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was right for a cheese cauldron."
"You think you're right though?" Harry said, trying to keep the spite out of his voice. It wasn't really a question, Dumbledore always though he was right, and it was this inability to consider that he was wrong was a lead cause in Sirius's accident.
"Naturally." Dumbledore said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Harry's tone, "I think most people, if being honest, would say they normally think of themselves as being right."
Harry didn't argue, he wasn't sure which side he actually fell on. He wanted to disagree but mostly because he was annoyed at Dumbledore and would of felt the need to disagree if Dumbledore had said the sky was blue.
"I will point out though, that for all I believe myself to be right, I have already proven to you that I, like everyone else, do sometimes make mistakes." Dumbledore added.
Once again Harry didn't disagree, but there was no truth in Dumbledore's words. They seemed some how empty and put on, knowing it was what Harry wanted to hear. If only he'd meant it.
"So where are we going?" Harry said, pointing to the pensive.
"A trip down the memories of one Bob Ogden." Dumbledore said with a smile, pulling out a small glass vial, a memory swirling white inside.
"And who was 'Bob Ogden'?" Harry asked.
"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Said Dumbledore, "He died some time ago, but not before I had managed to track him down and persuade him into giving me this memory. It is a memory of a trip he made, as part of his official duties."
Harry stood up, watching Dumbledore struggle to remove the cork from the bottle.
"Would you like me to do that for you?" Harry asked, not waiting for an answer but taking the bottle from him and easily removing the cork, "Sir… how did you hurt your hand?"
"A story for another time I think." Dumbledore smiled, "For now we have an appointment with Mr Ogden."
Dumbledore tipped the contents of the bottle into the pensive where it swirled around for a few moments before settling.
"After you." Dumbledore said, pointing to the pensive.
Harry took a deep breath and lowered his face into the stone bowl. He felt his feet leave the floor behind him and landed on a pretty country lane, bordered by high and rough hedgerows. The sun was painfully bright and high in the sky.
Dumbledore arrived beside Harry and smiled at Harry before looking around.
There was one other person in view, someone that Harry assumed must be Ogden. He was looking at a wooden directional sign and rubbing the back of his head.
Harry felt the need to roll his eyes at the ridiculous clothing that Ogden was wearing. It was fairly typical of wizards and witches who had little idea or desire to learn, about how Muggles act.
Ogden was wearing a frock-coat and spats over an old fashioned, striped one piece bathing suit. Between his outfit and thick rimmed glasses that made his eyes look impossibly small he looked completely ridiculous.
Ogden didn't wait around for long, walking off at a brisk pace. Harry and Dumbledore followed. Harry caught a look at the wooden sign as they went passed, 'Greater Hangleton- 5 miles' pointed in the opposite direction than they were heading, they were apparently heading to 'Little Hangleton- 1 mile'.
After a short walk the road curved steeply and turned into a steep angled slope. The downwards slope caused Ogden to speed up. Dumbledore simply lengthened his stride but Harry had to trot to keep up.
Suddenly Ogden left the road, his frock coat vanishing though a small gap in the hedge. On the other side there was a dirt track.
Ogden was walking more slowly now, trying to draw out the length of time before he reached wherever he was going. He paused for a moment as a small, grubby looking shack came into view. If there hadn't been a steady stream of smoke coming from an open window like someone was cooking Harry would of assumed that the place was long abandoned.
Nettles grow up the sides of the house, covering the bottom half of all of the windows which were covered in years and years of dirt. Many of the tiles had fallen off the long neglected roof and one of the end walls looked worryingly unstable.
Ogden pulled at his frock coat nervously before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders walking briskly towards the shack.
Harry was horrified to see a snake nailed to a wooden board and strung up over the door, wherever this was it was not somewhere he wanted to be.
There was a small rustle from the nearest tree as a man, dressed in rags dropped down, glaring menacingly at Ogden. Harry couldn't blame Ogden for taking several steps back.
"Er… good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic…" Ogden said, surprisingly calmly, clearly he was practised at talking to this sort of person.
"You're not welcome." The man hissed, sneering and showing off several missing or blackened teeth.
"I… I don't understand you." Ogden said, spotting the bloody knife in the man's hand and taking several more steps back.
Harry wonder for a moment if Ogden was in fact rather dim, he glanced at Dumbledore who also looked a little confused, like it was a puzzle he'd never quite bee able to solve.
"Is he speaking Parseltongue?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore gave him a nod and a smile, "Well worked out Harry."
The man advanced on Ogden, brandishing his wand and knife.
"Now, look…" Ogden said quickly, but to no avail.
The man snapped his wand quickly and Ogden flew backwards, hitting his head on the ground behind him. He quickly clutched at his nose as a large amount of yellow goo dripped between his fingers.
"Morfin!" a loud voice yelled from the house.
An elderly man had come out of the 'house' and rushed over. He was an odd looking man for sure. Years of sun had tanned his skin strongly, his arms were a little too long for the rest of him with very broad shoulders. Even though he was old, his eyes were a bright brown. His hair had been cut recently but it was rough and uneven and clearly hadn't been brushed in at least a week.
"Ministry is it?" the older man growled.
"Correct!" said Ogden angrily, trying to stop the flow of yellow goo/pus stuff, "And you, I take it, are Mr Gaunt?"
"'S right." Said Gaunt, "Got you in the face, did he?"
"Yes he did!" Ogden snapped, it was fairly clear what had happened but Gaunt seemed to be enjoying Ogden's discomfort.
"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" Gaunt taunted aggressively, "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."
Harry rolled his eyes; he already had a serious dislike for Gaunt and his self important attitude.
"Defend himself against what, man?" Ogden snapped back, hauling himself to his feet.
"Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth." Ogden glared.
Harry clenched his fists at his sides, he seriously didn't like Gaunt.
Ogden ignored him, pointing his wand at his own nose which finally stopped leaking the yellow stuff.
Mr Gaunt turned slightly to Morfin, "Get in the house. Don't argue!"
Parseltongue was a rare gift, Harry was starting to have a horrible feeling about the Gaunt family.
Despite being told not to argue Harry was sure that Morfin was about to, before his father shot him a threatening look and decided it would be better to do as he was instructed.
"It's your son I'm here to see, Mr Gaunt." Said Ogden, "That was Morfin, wasn't it?"
"Ar, that was Morfin." The old man said with a worrying level of indifference, "Are you pureblood?"
"That's neither here nor there." Ogden said coldly.
Gaunt felt like the sort of person who would be a death eater in a heartbeat. Harry would of put money on his parents being exactly the same, years of mindless bigotry passed down through the generations.
Gaunt stepped forward looking Ogden up and down, Ogden tightened his grip on his wand.
"Now I come to think about it, I've seen noses like yours down in the village." Gaunt spat.
"I don't doubt it, if your son's been let loose on them." Ogden countered, "Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside?"
"Inside?" Gaunt glared.
Ogden took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Yes, Mr Gaunt. I've already told you. I'm here about Morfin. We sent an owl…"
"I've no use for owls." Gaunt sniffed, "I don't open letters."
"Then you can hardly complain that you get no warning of visitors." Ogden snapped, "I am here following a serious breach of wizarding law which occurred here in the early hours of this morning…"
"All right, all right, all right!" Gaunt yelled, glaring scarily angrily at Ogden, "Come in the bleeding house, then, and much good it'll do you!"
Ogden took a deep breath and followed Gaunt into the house. It was tiny, three rooms at most and no bathroom. Everywhere was mucky.
Morfin was lounging in a filthy arm chair beside a badly made, smoking fire. Harry felt sick seeing the live snake that Morfin was twisting cruelly in his hands, murmuring softly so it in Parseltongue.
"Hissy hissy, little snakey,
Slither on the floor,
You be good to Morfin,
Or he'll nail you to the door."
"I'd nail him to the door." Harry hissed, he had a fondness for snakes and hated the way this psycho was treating them.
There was a noise from the corner of the room, Harry hadn't realised there was anyone else in the room. She was a small girl, dressed in a ragged grey dress that blended her into the walls. She was cooking in a dented old pot and trying desperately to avoid eye contact with them all.
Harry looked into her blank eyes and dull hair, feeling as though he had never seen a more defeated person before.
Gaunt sniffed loudly, "M'daughter, Merope." it was a begrudging answer, Harry suspected only given because Ogden looked as though he was about to ask about her.
"Good morning." Ogden said friendlily.
She didn't answer but gave a terrified look towards her father and continued with her cooking, rearranging the pots on the shelf above her.
"Well Mr Gaunt," said Ogden, "to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son Morfin performed magic in front of a Muggle late last night."
Harry jumped as a loud clank echoed throughout the tiny house. Merope had dropped a pot.
"Pick it up!"Gaunt screamed at her, "That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy Muggle! What's your wand for? You useless sack of mud-"
"Mr Gaunt! Please!" Ogden exclaimed.
Merope had already picked up the pot but in her fear she dropped it again, causing another loud bang. She scrabbled with her wand and muttered a spell, sending the pot shooting across the room splitting in half as it hit the wall.
Morfin let out a tormenting laugh, he sounded mad.
"Mend it you pointless lump! MEND IT!" Gaunt screamed at her.
Merope scrambled across the room, looking as though she was trying her hardest not to cry. Before she got to the pot Ogden pointed his wand, repairing it and offering the girl a friendly smile.
Gaunt however looked less than impressed. In fact he looked at Ogden like he was about to attack the man, he thought better of it though and turned his attention back to his long abused daughter.
"Lucky the nice man from the Ministry's here, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you off my hands, perhaps he doesn't mind dirty Squibs…" Gaunt snarled at her.
Merope didn't look at anyone, but without a sound grabbed the pot and went back to the shelve, replacing the pot in its place before pressing herself against the wall once again.
Ogden turned, sadly, back to the males of the family, "Mr Gaunt, as I've said, the reason for my visit-"
"I heard you the first time!" Gaunt snapped, "And so what?" he challenged, "Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him… what about it then?"
"Morfin has broken wizarding law." Ogden said, more sternly than Harry had thought him capable.
"Morfin has broken wizarding law…" Gaunt mocked, "He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?"
"Yes," Ogden, sounding like he couldn't believe someone was so dense, "I'm afraid it is."
Ogden reached into the inside pocket of his frock-coat and pulled out a small scroll, unrolling it.
"What's that, then, his sentence?" Gaunt said angrily.
Ogden took a deep breath, "It is a summons to the Ministry hearing…"
"Summons? SUMMONS? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?" Gaunt screamed angrily.
"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad." Ogden said.
"And you think we're scum, do you?" Gaunt still screamed, his face turning slightly red. He advanced on Ogden pointing a dirty finger at Ogden's chest, "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?"
Ogden clenched and relaxed his fists, standing his ground, "I was under the impression I was speaking to Mr Gaunt."
"That's right!" Gaunt yelled. He stepped forward, waving his ugly black stone ring in Ogden's face, "See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pure-blood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverall coat of arm engraved on the stone?"
"I've really no idea." Ogden said, flinching as the ring came with in an inch of his face, "and it's quite beside the point, Mr Gaunt. Your son has committed-"
Gaunt growled in rage and rushed over to Merope and clutched at her neck, dragging her over by a thick golden chain.
"See this" Gaunt bellowed, shaking a heavy gold locket while poor Merpoe gasped for breath.
"I see it, I see it!" Ogden said hastily, looking worriedly at the struggling girl.
"Slytherin's!" yelled Gaunt, "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants. What do you say to that, eh?"
"Mr Gaunt your daughter!" said Ogden with rising alarm.
Gaunt let her go, the girl stumbling back and rubbing her throat while pressing herself back against the wall.
"So!" Gaunt said triumphantly, as though he had just provided a winning argument rather than simply abused his daughter, "Don't go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of pure-bloods, wizards all… more that you can say, I don't doubt!"
Gaunt glared at Ogden before spitting at his feet. Harry felt deeply sorry for Ogden and had a huge urge to punch Gaunt before letting Hermione go to town on him, he would be no match for her.
"Mr Gaunt," Ogden said, clearly wishing he was just about anywhere else than where he was, "I am afraid that neither your ancestors, nor mine, have anything to do with the matter in hand. I am here because of Morfin. Morfin and the Muggle he accosted late last night. Our information," he glanced at the scroll of parchment summoning Morfin, "is that Morfin performed a jinx or hex on the said Muggle, causing him to erupt in highly painful hives."
Morfin giggled like a child.
"Be quiet boy." Gaunt snarled.
Morfin fell silence at once.
"And so what if he did, then?" Gaunt said defiantly, his eyes not leaving Ogden's, "I expect you've wiped the Muggle's filthy face clean for him, and his memory to boot…"
"That's hardly the point, is it, Mr Gaunt?" Ogden snapped, loosing his calm exterior, "This was an unprovoked attack on a defenceless-"
Gaunt spat on the floor again, waving his hand dismissively, "Ar, I had you marked out as a Muggle-lover the moment I saw you."
"This discussion is getting us nowhere," Ogden said firmly, "It is clear from your son's attitude that he feels no remorse for his actions. Morfin will attend a hearing on the fourteenth of September to answer the charges of using magic in front of a Muggle and causing harm and distress to that same Mugg-"
Ogden was disrupted by the sound of noisy horses going passed, the road was apparently closer than Harry had thought. Everyone in the room fell silent.
"My God, what an eyesore!" a haughty sound girl's voice rang out, "Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"
"It's not ours," an equally haughty man's voice echoed through, Harry assumed this was 'Tom', "Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt and his children. The son's quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village…"
The girl laughed, the noise went straight through Harry, it was so fake and patronising. They grew even closer, Morfin made to get out of his seat.
"Keep your seat." Gaunt said warningly.
"Tom," the girl's voice spoke again, "I might be wrong… but has somebody nailed a snake to that door?"
"Good Lord, you're right!" Tom gasped, "That'll be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it Cecilia, darling."
The noises faded as they passed the house, moving further down the road.
"Darling. 'Darling' he called her. So he wouldn't have you anyway!" Morfin said cruelly to Merope.
Merope shrunk further back against the wall as their father's head snapped round.
"What did you say Morfin?" Gaunt demanded.
"She likes looking at that Muggle." Morfin grinned, glaring at his sister, "Always in the garden when he passes, peering though the hedge at him, isn't she? And last night, hanging out of the window waiting for him to ride home, wasn't she?"
Gaunt was white with rage, "Hanging out of the window to look at a Muggle?" he said quietly.
Ogden looked worriedly around, they seem to have forgotten he was there. They were talking Parseltongue to each other, he didn't even know what they were saying, although he was sure it was nothing good.
"Is it true?" Gaunt said dangerously, walking towards the shivering girl who had sunk to the floor, "My daughter… a pure-blooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin… hankering after a filthy, dirt-veined Muggle?"
Merope was to afraid to speak but shook her head violently.
"But I got him Father!" Morfin cackled wildly, "I got him as he went by and he didn't look so pretty with hives all over him, did he, Merope?"
"You disgusting little Squib, you filthy little blood traitor!" Gaunt roared, he lost what little control he had, wrapping his hands tightly around Merope's throat.
Harry screamed and instinctively rushed forward to help the sobbing girl before his brain reminded him that this was in the long past and he couldn't help her, however hard he tried.
Ogden however was there, and did try to help, "Relashio!"
Gaunt was thrown backwards, forcing him to let go of Merope as he fell over a chair. Morfin leapt to his feet, screaming with rage aiming for Ogden.
Ogden ran for his life, leaving Morfin and his blooded knife as far behind him as possible.
Dumbledore indicated that they should do the same, Harry didn't need it suggesting twice. They left the house; Merope's screams of pain still ringing in their ears.
Ogden scrambled onto the path and ran straight into a beautiful chestnut brown horse. On the horse was a very handsome, dark haired man who looked very familiar to Harry, everything falling into place in Harry's mind.
Tom ignored him, laughing along with the pretty girl he was ridding with and continuing down the road.
"I think that will do, Harry." Dumbledore said.
Harry couldn't agree more. He allowed Dumbledore to pull him up by his elbow and with in a second they were back in Dumbledore's office.