Sirius was worried. Not that he wanted tell the other occupants of the house that. Marlene had enough things on her mind at the moment and Percival was already worried about Harry. It had been too long. Remus had been gone an hour longer than expected and Sirius' mind, still so used to the effects of the dementors, was bringing forth every horrifying thing that could have happened to the group. Some, like them all being bitten snakes set by Riddle to protect the horcrux were feasible, others, like being stepped on by a stampeding herd of nundus less so.
Not only that but Harry was out at night alone with Albus Dumbledore. Sirius found that imagining the awful things that could be happening to a group of very competent adult wizards (and a Goblin) was preferable to dwelling on what that white bearded wan … twit could be doing to his son! With a sigh he paced passed the fireplace in the parlour again.
"Do stop being so dramatic Black!" a deep velvety voice cut through his thoughts of Remus falling into a six-foot-deep pit filled with hungry Chimeras.
"Se … Snape?" Sirius turned to look at the other man, relieved by the distraction. Then he noticed something strange in the light of the fire "Are you wearing … different robes?" he tilted his head to the side. "They don't look black!" In fact, they made the man look … fit, cut so that they emphasised the lithe figure, the deep blue highlighting the darkness of the man's eyes.
"Ha!" Snape let out an amused laugh. "It's the light! I prefer a very dark blue. It's one step away from black so most assume that's what it is. What has your knickers in a twist?"
Sirius pulled a face and turned away, "Remus, Amelia, and a two-person curse breaking team from Gringotts headed out tonight once we knew that Dumbledore was going to be occupied. They haven't returned yet. And we know that Dumbledore was occupied because he came to take Harry to the Burrow for the rest of the summer. As Harry is pretending to have consumed that blasted potion, he could not very well say no!"
"I assume Bill Weasley is one of the representatives from Gringotts," said Severus addressing the first issue, Sirius nodded, "He's a talented young man, with what I am sure is an equally talented mentor. I recall Amelia Bones being a rather formidable witch and Lupin is hardly a slouch with a wand. I am quite sure they will survive. And your son seems to have the Gods on his side, so I am sure that he will be fine."
"Did you want something?" Sirius suddenly realised it was a little odd for the other man to have appeared without notice after midnight.
"I had a thought. If we can combine the broken bits of Riddle's soul, such a large piece residing outside of his body in one location, might act as a lodestone and allow us to remove the piece from Harry, if we can find an appropriate ritual."
"Let me see what I can find," Sirius stepped through the door on the far side of the room, returning with an arm full of books. "Most of these I've already looked at, but you might find something that I missed. Everything I have read so far seems to indicate that for the pieces to be combined the person must feel true remorse for the acts they have committed. I just cannot imagine Tom Riddle having that capability."
He placed his load down with a thud on the small table between the chairs.
As Severus lifted the top book he said, "You know we are going to have to do something about Dumbledore."
"I know," Sirius agreed. "The question is what? With the popularity he has gained at the moment, Harry's charges against him won't stick. Though I don't know how he intends to play things once it comes out that Riddle is not actually dead."
Kreacher popped in an hour later with a supper of tea and biscuits, there was a folded piece of parchment on the side of the tray. Sirius scanned it quickly.
"Well, it seems Harry is now safely at the Burrow."
"A bit late to be getting in?"
"Dumbledore didn't pick him up until just after eleven. Apparently, they went and convinced Horace Slughorn to come out of retirement."
"Horace Slughorn! That sneaky bastard means for me to take the Defence position!"
"Well, you are good at it," Sirius said placidly.
"I have a hard enough time stopping the Slytherins and Gryffindors from blowing each other up in potions when they work on separate desks. How will I manage in a subject where they are supposed to learn to fire spells by using them on one another? Not to mention the position is cursed."
Sirius winced, "The floo is always open to you if you need a break and well at least you know it will only be for a year."
"A year! And if I should die because of that curse, what then Black? Who will look after your precious godson then?"
"Son," Sirius corrected absent-mindedly. "If it looks like you are in danger, we will pull you out and send you to Seraphina. You still have the portkey to the apartment she has set up for you. You know Harry won't tolerate you coming to harm." It felt odd for the Animagus to be the voice of reason.
"And you, Black?"
"What about me?"
"Will you tolerate me coming to harm?"
"I…I," Sirius stuttered. "No," he admitted tightly. "I find that I would very much mind should something happen to you, a…and not just for Harry's sake. Like Harry, I also find that I do not want you to have to be sent away either."
"Why?" Severus asked in quiet shock, that someone should care.
"Because we would miss you Severus," Sirius admitted staring into the fire and resolutely not looking at the man sat beside him.
-o0o-
At least the night had not been a total loss, Dumbledore mused as he apparated away from the Burrow. Harry appeared to be well and truly in the thrall of his elixir, and he had managed to secure a Potions Professor for the year ahead, neatly shuffling Severus sideways into the Dark Arts position. How well the rumours had worked, all the students thought that the man coveted the position, Albus knew better of course. No, pushing Severus into a position he hated, was his punishment for his slip up in the Department of Mysteries and if the curse was real and removed him from the board altogether, then that was just an added bonus. Albus knew he had lost his spy, there was no denying it. After all rumours had even reached Horace Slughorn, the old gossip. No, there was nothing he could use to push the man now, a Slytherin was always looking out for self-preservation. Albus knew he had to be careful, he would only be able to goad him so far before the man fled. Not that it would matter if he did, Albus would always be able to find him, and bring him to heel.
As he spun away, Albus Dumbledore's mind turned to other things. Percival Graves, the thorn in his side, was out of his reach for the time being, hidden away with Sirius Black. His once loyal minions Minerva and Poppy Pomfrey had also apparently slipped from his grasp, however neither would return until the week before the new semester began, so for now he could do nothing to manage them. He had hoped that his last 'treatment' of Minerva would have done the trick, now however he realised he had only dealt with her interactions with 'the boy' and had not considered his apprentice at all. An oversight on his behalf that he would need to rectify once she was again within the castle.
He landed elegantly in his office at Hogwarts and immediately knew something was amiss. Everything seemed to be in its place. Ah … one of his instruments was emitting a strange red steam. Lifting the bowl off the shelf, he moved it to his desk and sat, watching the eddying currents, created by the smoke.
"Hmmm, two entwined, but in essence divided … Well Tom, what have you done now?" fingertips were pressed together as the old man leaned forwards, sharp eyes still on the rising steam. Yes, it was definitely time to make a move. Striking at Tom's first safe strong-hold should work well to keep his old apprentice off balance and push him into making an ill-considered move.
Decision made, Albus rose from his seat and headed towards his private chambers. A flick of his wand returned the still steaming bowl to its place. As Horace had pointed out, he was not that young anymore, it was quite reasonable that he should need a few hours' sleep before he handled the situation. Besides, it was not like the portraits could say anything.
-o0o-
"No-one is opening that box," Remus said firmly, forestalling the Goblin's movement. The wolf prowled defending his mind.
"Why? Do you think you are worthy of it wolf!" spat Amelia. "What are you going to do with it? Take it to V…Voldemort? You would betray us all!"
Remus was momentarily taken aback and hurt by the venom with which she had spoken. He had always counted Amelia, not a friend as such but, as a friendly face. As an Auror she had access to the werewolf registry, but she had never treated him any differently before. Was the spell on the box, bringing forth how she really felt about his kind? Or was it bringing out the worst aspects of her personality?
"No! I don't want to do anything with it. It's affecting you all! Can't you feel what it is doing to you?" Remus argued. "It needs to be put away so that we can defeat Riddle."
"I know exactly what I'm doing, and I'm going to take that box! It will make me the greatest wizard the world has ever seen!" Bill cried. The three leapt forwards in a barrage of arms and legs.
Remus had never been more grateful for the wolf's reflexes as he swirled his wand in a complicated pattern, producing three different restraining charms.
"You dare! Restraining a Goblin will see you banned from Gringotts, wolf!" growled Stonerune, as Amelia and Bill struggled against the ropes that held them. "My clan will have their revenge and scatter your bones in the four corners of the world so that your ghost may never rest."
Remus ignored the various complaints and cried, "Kreacher!"
With a pop the elf appeared. "Wolf has found another." The elf twitched, eying the box warily.
"Yes, but it seems to have affected, the others," he nodded towards the three bodies, writhing on the floor. "If you could bring the box that Sirius had to put them in."
The box popped into existence, on the floor, with a click of the Elf's fingers.
"We really should have thought of this before," mumbled Remus as he raised his wand to open the silver box and retrieve the horcrux, concerned that there might be other protections on the item itself.
"No!" Kreacher gasped.
"No?" Remus paused.
"No! It … it speaks to the others … calls, to them, keep it locked away!" the Elf pleaded.
"Do you know what it is?"
Kreacher shook his head, "Feels the same as the … locket," he whispered, "but … more. Do not open it!"
"I can't. We need to set this place up as though we have never been here, clearing away our magical signatures and restoring all the defences. I need to see it to be able to replicate it exactly. Is it possible for you to put some sort of shield around it?"
Kreacher shook his head, "Elf magic, does not work that way."
"Will you be able to resist the protections on it?" Remus glanced to the where the other three were now glaring at him.
"Kreacher doesn't know. Will be worse when box is open."
"Right," Remus clenched his jaw, feeling the wolf stalk to the very front of his mind. It seemed confident. "I think I need to risk it. The longer it takes before Riddle finds out the better. You pop away, and then I'll open the box, the wolf doesn't seem to be bothered by the spell. Hopefully that will still work when the box is open. When I've got it locked away, I'll call you to take the box back to Sirius."
Kreacher disappeared.
"Alohomora!" There was a snick. "Really Riddle a second-year spell?" Remus huffed a laugh in surprise.
Set on a velvet cushion was a ring, the silver band housed a black pyramid shaped stone. Remus' wolf, howled in his mind, strangely his first thought was to flee from the evil stench more than anything else, but he forced himself on. The compulsion grew, latching onto his human mind, urging him to put the ring on. Showing him all the wealth and power, he could obtain if he only gave in and slipped that innocuous little ring onto his finger. How he could improve the lives of the Were's, how he could look after his pack, be a true Alpha.
Remus struggled against the compulsion. What use was power and riches if he lost his cub? Harry would surely die if they did not gather all the pieces of Riddles soul. His nose wrinkled, and lips drew back to expose his teeth as his wolf completely took over the fight, driven by the need to protect his cub, freeing up some higher functioning part of his mind to start throwing counter spells at the ring. His years studying Defence paid off as an obscure spell he remembered reading in a book borrowed from the restricted section of Hogwarts library, filtered across his memory and he cast the correct counter. The pressure in his brain stopped suddenly.
With the compulsion gone, it was clear that there was a darker spell on the ring as well, he was sure it was some sort of withering curse, but Remus figured it was best to get the ring away, rather than trying to deal with it immediately. Hopefully no one would put the ring on anyway.
Finally, a replicated ring, complete with the strongest strong compulsion hex, Remus knew was returned to the silver box and lowered back into the snake's embrace. While the original was levitated into a velvet pouch and tucked in beside the diadem and locket. Remus snapped the lid shut.
"Riddle you really are a nasty fuc … Kreacher," Remus called, the instant it snicked closed. "Take the box and lock it away please."
After the lead box disappeared Remus turned back to the shamefaced three lying in a tangle of ropes on the floor.
"Now what am I going to do with the three of you?"
-o0o-
It seemed like only seconds after he had lain down his head Harry was woken by what sounded like cannon-fire as the door burst open. Sitting bolt upright, his wand hit his palm with a slap, wordlessly summoned in his surprised state. There was the rasp of curtains being drawn back: the dazzling sunlight seemed to poke him hard in both eyes. Shielding them with the hand his wand was in, he groped hopelessly for his glasses with the other.
"Wuzzgoinon?"
"We didn't know you were here already!" said a loud and excited voice, and he received a sharp blow to the top of his head.
"Ron don't hit him!" said a girl's voice reproachfully. Harry recognised her voice immediately and her presence seemed odd. Crookshanks had given away Hermione's visit, however he had not thought that Ron would tolerate spending time with the girl.
There was a sharp slapping noise, followed by Ron saying, "Ow 'Hermione!"
Harry's hand found his glasses and he shoved them on, though the light was so bright he could hardly see anyway. A long, looming shadow quivered in front of him for a moment; he blinked, and Ron Weasley came into focus, grinning down at him.
"All right?"
"Better before you gave me a concussion," said Harry half-jokingly, rubbing the top of his head and slumping back down on his pillows. "You?"
"Not bad," said Ron, pulling over a cardboard box and sitting on it. "When did you get here? Mum's only just told us."
"About one o'clock this morning." Harry reached out and placed his wand on the table that sat between the twin beds.
"How was staying with Sirius? How's Percival?" Ron grinned, making Harry blush.
"It was the best," Harry grinned. "Perce is alright."
Harry moved sideways uncomfortably as Hermione, without waiting for an invitation, perched herself on the edge of his bed. With a sideways glance at Ron, he asked somewhat rigidly, "How are you, Hermione?"
"Oh, I'm fine," said Hermione, who was scrutinising Harry as though he was sickening with something. "Why didn't you stay with your aunt and uncle Harry? You know that they miss you. I think it's rude that you should have thrown them over in favour of Sirius. Quite frankly he's an unreliable guardian!"
If Harry had not be paying full attention, he would have missed the tightening around Ron's eyes and the slight reddening of his neck, both sure signs that the taller boy's anger was growing. At least that answered whether or not Hermione had done anything to Ron, a thought which had been bothering him since Harry had realised that they had entered the room together.
"Hermione," Harry said more politely than he felt was warranted, "Sirius is my legal guardian. I couldn't stay anywhere else." Rather than engage her in a debate, he changed the topic suddenly, "What's the time? Have I missed breakfast?"
"Don't worry about that, Mum's bring you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "So, what's been going on?"
"Nothing much, been staying at home mostly. Even got my homework out of the way. Was nice."
"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!" And Harry caught the faint tone of concern in Ron's voice.
"It wasn't that exciting," Harry reassured his friend. "He just wanted me to help persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."
"We thought it would be something like that," Hermione said smugly, prodding Ron in the ribs, eliciting another 'ouch!' The redness extended up his neck colouring Ron's ears.
"You did?" said Harry, amused at how oblivious she thought he was.
"Well, we need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, what's he like?"
"He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin," said Harry, deciding to tell Ron later that the man would be teaching Potions not Defence. "Something wrong, Hermione?"
She was watching him as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She arranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile.
"No, of course not. So, um, did Professor Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "He didn't exactly teach me anything last night, did he. He can't be worse than Umbridge, though, can he?"
"That sounds like a challenge," said a voice from the doorway. Ron's younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable. "I know someone who is worse than Umbridge."
"What's up with you?" Ron asked.
"It's her," said Ginny, plonking herself down on Harry's bed, he sat himself up and drew his knees up under his chin to make space. "She's driving me mad."
"What's she done now?" asked Hermione sympathetically.
"It's the way she talks to me – you'd think I was about three!"
"I know," said Hermione, dropping her voice. "She's so full of herself."
Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs Weasley like this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily, "Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?"
"Oh, that's right, defend her," snapped Ginny. "We all know you can't get enough of her."
That seemed like an odd comment to make about Ron's mother; starting to feel he was missing something Harry asked, "Who are you-?"
But his question was answered before he could finish it. The bedroom door flew open again and Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed on to the floor.
A young woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.
"Fleur!" Harry said, pleasantly surprised to see the other Triwizard champion. While their initial introduction had left a great deal to be desired, Fleur and Viktor had supported Harry at the end of the tournament. Occasional letters had been exchanged between the trio since, though it had been months since Harry had received one.
"'Arry," she said in a throaty voice. "Eet 'as been too long!"
As she swept over the threshold towards him, Mrs Weasley was revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross.
"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"
"Eet was no trouble," said Fleur Delacour, setting the tray across from Harry's knees and then swooping to kiss him on each cheek: he felt his face burn. "I 'ave been longing to see 'im. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."
"Oh, is she here too?" Harry asked.
"No, no, silly boy," said Fleur with a tinkling laugh, "I mean next summer, when we – but do you not know?"
Her great blue eyes widened, and she looked reproachfully at Mrs Weasley, who said, "We hadn't got around to telling him yet."
Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs Weasley across the face.
"Bill and I are going to be married!"
"Wow. Congratulations," said Harry. He could not help noticing how Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ginny were all determinedly avoiding each other's gaze.
She swooped down upon him and kissed him again.
"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he bought me 'ere. Now, I can get to know 'is family properly. Soon, we will find our own place. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming – zere isn't much to do 'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens. Well – enjoy your breakfast 'Arry!"
With those words she turned gracefully and seemed to float out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Mrs Weasley made a noise that sounded like 'tchah!'
"Mum hates her," said Ginny quietly.
"I do not hate her!" denied Mrs Weasley in a cross whisper. "I just think, they've hurried into this engagement, that's all. I just can't help thinking that there is someone else who is better suited to our Bill."
"They've known each other a year," said Ron, who looked oddly groggy, and was shaking his head.
"Well, that's not very long!" Mrs Weasley huffed.
"It's about the same amount of time that you knew dad before you got engaged, isn't it?" Ginny asked slyly. "Not to mention you were only seventeen."
"Well we knew of each other and we'd seen each other around the common room. We just hadn't been introduced. Your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?" said Mrs Weasley, with a huff. "Whereas Bill and Fleur … well … what have they got in common? He's a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's –"
"A cow," said Ginny, nodding. "But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a curse-breaker, isn't he? He likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour … I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm."
"Stop calling her that, Ginny," said Mrs Weasley sharply as Hermione laughed meanly. "Well, I'd better get on … eat your eggs while they're warm, Harry."
Looking annoyed she left the room. Ron still seemed a little punch-drunk, he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water and blinking rapidly.
"Don't you get used to her if she is staying in the same house?" Harry asked curiously watching his friend.
"Well you do," said Ron. "But I'm not immune like you apparently are. If she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then …"
"It's pathetic," said Hermione furiously, striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her arms folded once she reached the wall.
"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny asked Ron incredulously.
Ron shrugged and said, "It's not up to us, is it? Bill's the one marrying her. It's not like she'll be living here for that long. He'll have to live with her, and it looks to me like …"
What Ron thought it looked like went unheard as Ginny interrupted, "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can. I bet you anything."
"But why would she, she must know that would only hurt Bill? How would she manage it anyway?" asked Harry. It seemed like a terrible thing to do.
"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."
"Yeah, 'cause that'll work," said Ron sarcastically. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is okay–looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and nose, but–"
Harry reached out and slapped his friend this time, muttering "Looks aren't everything." Ron just smiled in response.
"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm," said Ginny.
"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" said Hermione from the corner.
"Fleur's hardly stupid. She was intelligent enough for Madame Maxime to choose her to enter the Triwizard Tournament, and then be selected as champion," said Harry.
"Not you as well!" said Hermione bitterly.
"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says 'Arry do you?" asked Ginny scornfully.
"No! First of all, I would like to point out that I rather prefer the way Perce says Harry. I was just saying that Fleur-"
"I'd much rather have Tonks in the family," Ginny cut in. "At least she's a laugh."
"It's not your choice who Bill marries," reiterated Ron," and Tonks hasn't been much of a laugh lately has she? Every time I've seen her, she looks more like Moaning Myrtle."
"That's not fair," said Hermione. "She nearly got killed by her own aunt!"
Harry picked up a fork and began shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in the brewing argument. He had nearly finished eating breakfast when one last barb interrupted his daydream of sharing breakfast with Percival at the table at Grimmauld Place.
"She's even having trouble Metamorphosing!"
"With her-?"
"She can't change her appearance like she used to," explained Hermione, rolling her eyes at their stupidity. "I think her powers have been affected by the shock, or something."
"I didn't think that could happen," said Harry, privately thinking it had something to do with whatever was causing her odd behaviour, he would have to add it to the next letter he wrote to Sirius, perhaps it would help Andy figure out what was wrong.
"Neither did I," said Hermione. "But I suppose if …"
The door opened again, and Mrs Weasley popped her head in.
"Ginny," she whispered, "come downstairs and help me with lunch."
"I'm talking to this lot!" said Ginny, annoyed.
"Now!" said Mrs Weasley and withdrew.
"She only wants me there, so she doesn't have to be alone with Phlegm!" said Ginny crossly. She swung her long red hair around in a very good imitation of Fleur and pranced across the room with her arms held aloft like a ballerina.
"You lot had better come down quickly too," she said as she left.
Harry took advantage of the temporary silence to eat more breakfast. Hermione began snooping through Fred and George's boxes, though every now and then she cast sideways looks at Harry. Ron was now helping himself to Harry's toast.
"What's this?" Hermione asked eventually, holding up what looked like a small telescope.
"Dunno," said Ron, before adding a warning, "but if Fred and George've left it here, it's probably not ready for the joke shop yet, so I'd leave it alone."
"Your mum said the shop's going well," said Harry. "Said Fred and George have got a real flair for business."
"That's an understatement," said Ron, proudly. "They're raking in the Galleons! I can't wait to see the place. We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, despite Riddle being gone," Hermione clucked her tongue, but Ron ignored her and continued on, "Mum says dad's got to be there as extra security, which is stupid," Hermione tutted again, "and he's been really busy at work, but Bill's been, and it sounds excellent."
"And what about Percy?" asked Harry; the third eldest Weasley brother had fallen out with the rest of the family.
"Not a word," said Ron, flicking his eyes to where Hermione was still examining the telescope.
"Not even now he knows your dad was right about Riddle," another cluck came from Hermione, "being back."
"Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than for being right," said Hermione knowledgeably. "I heard him telling your mum, Ron."
"Sounds like the sort of mental thing Dumbledore would say," said Ron, ignoring the resultant huff.
"He …" Harry paused unsure what he wanted to tell Ron, in front of Hermione. Dumbledore had said to tell them. After a brief moment he decided that Dumbledore had probably already told Hermione anyway … "Last night, Dumbledore said that… well you know the diary," Harry said quietly, Ron moved to sit on the edge of his bed. "Well that kept Riddle alive. Dumbledore thinks he made more of them."
"He told me too," Hermione said puffing out her chest. "I'll be a target when he comes back."
Harry nodded slowly, "Because of that, Dumbledore is going to give me lessons this year."
"Us, Harry," Hermione corrected importantly, "He is going to give me and you lessons."
"I asked about including you as well, but he said your mum wouldn't give permission," Harry looked earnestly at Ron, hoping his friend wouldn't explode.
"You'll let me know what happens though won't you?" Ron asked slowly.
"Of course," Harry agreed at once, despite another disapproving cluck from Hermione
"What about Percival?"
"Dumbledore said not to tell him," Harry tilted his head slightly to the side. Ron was observing him closely and gave a slight nod. It was no more than a depression of his chin, but it was enough to let Harry know that Ron understood, he would be telling Percival, and agreed with it.
"And rightly so! Who knows what he would do with that information? I know you like him Harry, but I don't think he be trusted!" Harry just rolled his eyes, drawing an answering smirk from Ron.
"Was there anything else that Dumbledore wanted us to know?" Hermione asked leadingly.
Harry nodded, "There's a prophecy. That's what the Death Eaters were trying to get from the Ministry."
"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione just a touch too quickly, confirming that Dumbledore had already told her the contents. "It got smashed."
"It was given to Dumbledore," Harry admitted for Ron's benefit. "It's a bit confusing, but Dumbledore thinks that I've got to be the one to finish Riddle off."
"Oh, why don't you just call him Voldemort!" Hermione finally snapped.
"Because it's a riddiculus …"
There was a loud bang and Hermione vanished behind a puff of black smoke. The breakfast tray fell to the floor with a crash as Harry jumped. Hermione emerged, coughing, out of the smoke, clutching the telescope and sporting a brilliantly purple eye. Ron covered a snort of laughter with his hand.
"I squeezed it and it – it punched me!" she gasped.
And sure enough, they could now see a tiny fist on a long spring protruding from the end of the telescope.
"Don't worry," said Ron, who was plainly trying to contain his laugher. "Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries.
"Oh, well, never mind that now!" Hermione said hastily. "Harry, oh, Harry… I wondered," she moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, "when I returned from the Ministry … obviously, I didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, well I thought it might be something like this, and of course now I'm involved as well…" she stared at him, then whispered tremulously, "Are you scared?"
Deciding to play the Gryffindor, Harry said, "Not as much as I was when I first heard … but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end …"
"I wonder what he'll teach us Harry," said Hermione. "Really advanced defensive magic, probably … powerful counter curses … anti-jinxes …"
"And how exactly is that going to help Harry beat Riddle?" Ron asked.
Harry did not really listen to Hermione's verbal daydream. Privately he agreed with Ron, all the defensive magics in the world were unlikely to help defeat Riddle, however he suspected that Dumbledore did not actually want him to.
"… and evasive enchantments generally," concluded Hermione. "Well at least we'll know one lesson, we'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron. I wonder when our O.W.L results will come?"
"Can't be long now, it's been a month," said Ron.
"Hang on," said Harry, as another part of the previous night's conversation came back to him. "I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L results would be arriving today."
"Today?" shrieked Hermione. "Today? But why didn't you – oh my God – you should have said-"
She leapt to her feet.
"I'm going to see whether any owls have come…"
-o0o-
Just as the sun was breaking the horizon, the group of four was deposited into the parlour of Grimmauld place, disturbing the pair who had fallen asleep by the fire. Sirius noted that three of them were resolutely not looking at each other and strangely Amelia Bones and Bill Weasley were blushing profusely.
"Well now I want to know what happened?" Sirius asked.
Remus gave a smirk but answered placidly, "the horcrux gave us a little trouble at the end. Kreacher has locked it up now. There's still one enchantment on it that is going to need to be removed, but it can wait till later, as long as no-one puts the ring on."
"Well, that's good then."
"I had best get back to the school, with any luck I will not have been missed," Severus said, transferring the books that were in his lap onto the side table.
"Are the other teachers expected to stay at the school during the summer?" Amelia asked.
"No," Severus said flatly, "but the headmaster has always insisted that I do, until recently I have had no reason to decline his request." Severus tumbled through the floo, there was no note insisting he visit the headmaster waiting for him, so he assumed his absence had not been noticed.
"With that, I will be off as well," Amelia said. "Stonerune, if you could advise the Overseer that there is an issue we need to discuss, I would be most appreciative."
"I will see what I can do about arranging an appointment," the Goblin said in a somewhat subdued fashion, before he too stepped into the floo and whirled away.
"That was rather odd, wasn't it?" Sirius asked staring at the now empty fireplace.
"I think that was the Goblin equivalent of being embarrassed," Bill said.
"Why?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Ah …" Amelia and Bill both flushed pink again.
"Why don't you two go and I'll explain," Remus offered with a grin.
-o0o-
Not being in a rush to receive their results Ron and Harry, watched Hermione disappear through the door. Harry locked it and cast a silencing ward as soon as it clicked shut.
Ron looked at his friend shrewdly, "So do you want to explain what's going on?"
With a sigh of relief, Harry began to talk, telling Ron all about the elixir that Sirius and Snape had refused to let him drink, the fact that Horace Slughorn was a potion's professor and Severus would be teaching to defence.
"Well at least we'll learn something this year," Ron nodded. "And I'll help you with Hermione as much as I can."
"What's Ginny's problem with Fleur?"
"Not sure, to be honest. Some of the things Fleur says do come across a bit … well you know, but I don't think she means it."
"Kind of like when she called me a 'leetle boy'," Harry nodded his understanding. "She meant that I was too young to have been put in such a position not that I was … well you know."
"Exactly."
"So you don't think that Hermione has given Ginny …"
"I don't think so but …"
"Hurry up!" Ginny's voice echoed up the stairwell.
"I guess we'd better go then," Ron grinned.
"You go, I need to get changed first," Harry said, unlocking the door.
When he arrived downstairs ten minutes later, fully dressed and carrying his empty breakfast tray, it was to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen table in great agitation, while Mrs Weasley tried to lessen her resemblance to half a panda.
"It just won't budge," Mrs Weasley was saying with a frown, standing over Hermione with her wand in her hand and a copy of The Healer's Helpmate open at 'Bruises, Cuts and Abrasions'. "This has always worked before; I just can't understand it."
"It'll be Fred and George's idea of a funny joke, making sure it can't come off," said Ginny.
"No, it will be one of the ones they haven't got working yet, which is why they left it here," Ron repeated his earlier comment.
"But it's got to come off!" shrieked Hermione. "I can't go around looking like this for ever!"
"You won't, dear, we'll find an antidote, don't worry," said Mrs Weasley soothingly before muttering under her breath, "those blasted boys, useless the pair of them!"
"Bill told me 'ow Fred and George are very amusing!" said Fleur, smiling serenely.
"Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing," snapped Hermione.
She jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together.
"Mrs Weasley, you're quite sure no owls have arrived this morning?"
"Yes dear, I'd have noticed," said Mrs Weasley, with the air of someone who has repeated the same comment ten times over. "But it's barely nine, there's still plenty of time …"
"I know I messed up Ancient Runes," muttered Hermione feverishly, "I definitely made at least one serious miscalculation. And the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back-"
"Hermione will you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!" barked Ron, obviously thoroughly fed up with the girl's behaviour. "And when you've got your ten 'Outstanding' O. …"
"Don't, don't, don't," said Hermione flapping her hands hysterically. "I know I've failed everything!"
Harry could not help but ask, "What happens if you fail?"
"We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked Professor McGonagall," Hermione replied twisting her fingers together anxiously.
Harry's stomach squirmed. He wished that he had eaten less breakfast. He also wished that he was at home with Sirius and Percival! It would be a lot easier to face failing if Percival was there. He shook his head, no … he had NOT failed. It had been a better preparation for exams than any of his previous years at Hogwarts, Percival had seen to that. So, while he might not have all 'Outstandings' he should not have failed anything.
"At Beauxbatons," said Fleur tranquilly, "we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think eet better. We sat our examinations after six years of study, not five and then-"
Fleur's words were drowned out by a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specs were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.
"They're definitely owls," said Ron, tersely, jumping up to look out the window.
"And there are three of them," said Harry.
"One of each of us," said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "oh no … oh no … oh no …"
The owls were flying directly at the Burrow, three handsome tawnies, each of which, it became clear as they flew lower over the path leading up to the house, was carrying a large square envelope.
"Oh no!" squealed Hermione, causing Harry to clap his hands over his ears.
Mrs Weasley squeezed passed Hermione and opened the kitchen window. One, two, three, the owls soared through it and landed on the table in a neat line. All three lifted their right legs.
Harry moved forwards. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left Ron was trying to detach his own results, to his right Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making her whole owl tremble.
Nobody in the kitchen spoke. At last, Harry managed to detach the envelope. Just as he sent out another wish that Percival could be there the fireplace glowed green, causing a startled yelp from Mrs Weasley.
"Molly!" Sirius called his head appearing in the floo.
"Yes," the Weasley matriarch said.
"I don't suppose I can send Percival over for the day? Amelia has just called, and she wants me to head to the Ministry for something and I don't want him to be home by himself. It would be alright if it was just for an hour or two, but I feel a whole day is too long to go unsupervised," he smiled at her winsomely.
"Oh!" Mrs Weasley looked taken aback, though whether it was in the face of Sirius' smile or the fact that he was acting like a reasonable adult was unknown. "I suppose," then she tutted sharply, "he can't be staying overnight mind! I've got a full house already."
"That will be fine," Sirius said agreeably. "I should hopefully be done around five. Now do you want me send Kreacher over to help with meals? It must be a lot of work with all the children there?"
"No!" Mrs Weasley said very quickly, then she took a breath. "No, I have that all covered, thank you for the offer."
"Alright, I'll back out and then, I think he is all ready to come through. Even has his O.W.L results as he wanted to open them with the others."
Sirius head sank below the embers, then the fire flared again, and Mrs Weasley allowed Percival through the floo.
"Perce!" Harry dropped his envelope causing the owls to startle and fly off and moved around the table. Practically jumping on the other boy in an attempt to give him a hug. "I missed you!"
Percival grinned as he wrapped his arms around Harry, nuzzling his nose into the shorter boy's hair, "It's only been one night."
"Too long," Harry murmured into Percival's chest.
"You're being ridiculous," Percival chided, though his eyes were soft. "Besides we have results to open."
They stepped away from each other, turning back to the rest of the room. Mrs Weasley had averted her eyes a disapproving moue on her lips, Hermione was frowning at a piece of parchment held in her hands, her torn envelope on the table. Ginny was watching the pair closely, a slight blush on her cheeks, eyes twinkling, while Ron, was shaking his head and laughing.
"Come on," Ron lifted his own envelope in a salute. "On three?"
At the agreeing nods, Ginny helpfully counted for them, "One, two, three. Tear!"
The three tore open their envelopes and unfolded the parchment within.
"But this can't be right!" Hermione whined, slapping her hand onto the table, drawing the gaze of the others.
After an uncomfortable pause, it was Mrs Weasley that responded, "What's that dear?" The others returned to opening their results.
Percival tuned out the conversation, which seemed to consist of Hermione complaining that the results could not be right and Mrs Weasley telling the girl that she could make enquires with the educational department at the Ministry, as he whispered into Harry's ear, "What's up with …" he used his pointer finger to make a circling motion around his eye.
Harry snorted quietly, "She didn't listen to Ron when he said that anything left behind by the twins was probably not finished yet or they hadn't gotten it working correctly. Now she can't get rid of the bruise."
"Oi! How'd you go?" Ginny asked louder than was necessary.
"Ah…" Harry blinked slowly and finally unfolded his parchment.
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS
Pass Grades: Fail Grades:
Outstanding (O) Poor (P)
Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)
Acceptable (A) Troll (T)
HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:
Ancient Runes: O
Arithmancy: O
Astronomy: E
Care of Magical Creatures: E
Charms: O
Defence Against the Dark Arts: O
Herbology: O
History of Magic: E
Potions: O
Transfiguration: O
Harry read the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier. It was alright. He had passed everything. He ran his finger down the grades and smiled … he had passed everything well! Percival nudged him gently with his hip, holding out his hand to swap results. Unsurprisingly Percival had received 'Outstandings' for everything.
"The smile means it's good right?" Ginny asked impatiently.
Ron was looking delighted, "Only failed Divination, and who cares about that right?" he said happily, passing over his parchment. Harry nodded to Percival allowing him to pass Harry's results over so that Ron and Ginny could see. Hermione had fallen silent and was standing with her back to them and her head bent.
Harry glanced down at Ron's grades. While there was only one 'Outstanding' for charms, the rest of the results barring Divination, a 'Dreadful' and History of Magic, an 'Acceptable', were 'Exceeds Expectations'.
"You did well," Harry congratulated the red head.
"Thanks for the notes, they're the only reason I passed History of Magic." Ron glanced up from Harry's parchment. "Knew you'd top Defence. We've done all right, haven't we?"
Well done!" said Mrs Weasley proudly ruffling Ron's hair. "Eight O. that's more than Fred and George got together!"
"Speaking of the twins I wonder how they did on their N.E. ," said Ron.
The comment went ignored by Mrs Weasley as Ginny asked tentatively, "Hermione? How did you go?"
"I – not bad," said Hermione in a small voice.
"Oh, come off it," said Ron, striding over to her hand whipping the results out of her hand. "Yep. Ten O. . Five 'Exceeds Expectations' and five 'Outstandings'. He looked at her in exasperation. "You're actually disappointed aren't you."
"No!" she protested, "I'm angry! Something must be wrong. I'm the brightest witch of the age I can't possibly have done this badly! How can the Ministry allow such an error to occur!"
"Well thanks for making the rest of us feel so good about ourselves!" Ron said sarcastically. "Not to mention a moment ago you were saying how you thought you had failed everything."
"Well, if you've got any questions," Mrs Weasley said placatingly, seeing the girl drawing herself up to make what was surely going to be a scathing retort, "Just owl Madame Marchbanks and I'm sure she'll sort it out for you."
Hermione glared at Ron before, rushing up the stairs.
"Well, we're all N.E.W.T students now!" grinned Ron. "Mum, are there any more sausages?"
Harry looked back at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. Allowing himself a small smile he thought Severus would be proud of his potions grade, even if the man was not going to be teaching it in the coming year. He wondered whether the teachers had convinced Dumbledore to continue with the advanced lessons and he resolved even if they had not, he would approach Professor McGonagall and see if he could continue with the Animagus training.
-o0o-
"Severus?" Minerva McGonagall knocked on his office door.
"Yes," the door eased open under her hand. As she stepped into the room, she saw Severus put down the journal he had been looking at.
"Notes on a new potion?"
"No. Notes from an old friend. I have a feeling they were on the cusp of a breakthrough; however, I need to recreate their work to be able to fully understand it and see why it didn't work. Hopefully I will have time over the break. I am surprised to see you back so soon. You wanted something?"
"I have found something troubling…." the transfiguration teacher admitted.
"Yes?"
"In amongst the notes I had on this year's work, I have six exam papers that I have no memory of writing or marking."
"Would this assessment have been on the Animagus transformation?" Severus asked intuitively.
Minerva nodded, "I cannot fathom why I would have given such a thing to Harry Potter of all people. And I also see that he has been listed as enrolling in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes for the next year, when the boy only took Divination! Which he was failing."
The Potion's Master glanced at her sharply.
"Clearly something has gone awry, I was hoping for help unravelling the mystery, however Albus is away. So, I had hoped that I could talk to you, maybe I have merely forgotten…"
"You are clearly missing some memories, Minerva," Severus said as gently as he was able.
"Surely not! I would know if I had been obliviated!" she protested.
"Tch," Severus tutted, moving out from behind his desk and guiding her into his private quarters. "You are not the first that has been obliviated at this school. Though the other one I am aware of remains oblivious."
"I shall have to wait for Albus to return then," Minerva sighed, not noticing Severus still.
"Or I could assist you," he offered.
"Oh … I …" she stuttered.
"Ah," he smiled wryly. "For all your words I see you do not actually trust me."
"Severus as you know Legilimency, is a rather intimate experience. It is not that I don't trust you, rather I am not that …"
"Ah," Severus accepted her explanation. "I was not referring to Legilimency. Given my role in the last war, there were times when I knew that I had been obliviated by one side or the other, so I developed a potion." He moved to a locked cabinet that rested against one wall. He cast an intricate spell to unlock it and withdrew a small ampule, filled with a gold-coloured liquid. "I must caution you first, no-one and I mean, not a soul, knows of this potion. To date I have only tested it on myself. And second, if you have been obliviated the recovery of your memories will be most painful. If you take me up on this offer I must insist that if you take it that you do so here, where I may observe and treat any symptoms that may emerge."
Minerva looked at the tiny bell-shaped bottle. She could not deny the niggling feeling that she was missing some pertinent information.
"Y ...yes, Severus. I think I need to."
"In that case make yourself comfortable," Severus encouraged her to lie down on the brown leather couch. He conjured a cold pack and placed it to one side. "It actually does not taste all that bad," he reassured his colleague, removing the cork from the bottle.
Minerva gave him a tight smile as she took the bottle and tipped it up, downing the contents.
-o0o-
Albus Dumbledore stretched. Oh yes, the nap was very much required. Feeling quite chipper, he bounced out of bed, grabbing his favourite star covered robes on his way to the bathroom. After a moment he re-emerged and returned to his cupboard to scrounge around at the back and find a surprisingly dull set of brown outer robes. It was not his usual wardrobe, but he kept them for this express purpose.
Casting a quick charm, Albus Dumbledore checked the time, and seeing that it was well past the breakfast hour he called a house elf to bring him a snack to tide him over until he returned from his errand. The house elf that appeared, was not one of the usual ones that he had cowed into submission, and it had a little too much attitude, not showing the appropriate level of subservience at all. Before it could pop away, he cast a silent Crucio at the beast. He knew that being cast silently would have decreased the power of the spell, but the surprise factor was what was important here. The little blighters would never know their place if they thought they could get away with treating him in such a fashion.
Picking up his tray Albus moved into his office, where he placed it on his desk. The instruments were all still chittering and chattering away, each one connected to an individual piece on his board. Yes, they were all right where he wanted them, and even better his power over the Wizarding World was absolute after the events at the Ministry. He just had to deal with his errant apprentice and to procure a better source of funds. His Headmasters wage, while reasonable was not enough. He had spent too many years in his youth living in penury, he most certainly did not want to spend his elderly years doing the same. He had saved the Wizarding World from Grindelwald, you would have thought that would have equated to some kind of financial reward but no! Apparently after years of oppression, nearly every Wizarding nation went through years of depression which closely matched those in the Muggle world. The fight against his wayward apprentice had cost funds. A lot of funds given how long it had dragged on for. The Longbottoms, McKinnons and Potters had assisted with their innumerable wealth certainly, but instead of leaving part (or preferable all) of their fortunes to him, even though he had cast the Imperius on them (and it had worked in getting the Potters and Longbottoms to change secret keepers) they had left it to their children. Maybe it had something to do with the Goblins. Still there was hope yet, if the 'boy' married Ginevra or better yet Hermione, then they could be persuaded to convince Harry to leave a portion of the family money, to his beloved mentor. If that failed, he could always just increase the dose of the elixir. Then of course in time the 'boy' could meet with an unfortunate accident, after writing an appropriate will of course.
Hearing the shriek of an owl, Dumbledore turned, flicking his wand abruptly to open the window. Errol, crash landed on the desk in a ball of feathers, tipping over an ink-pot. The dark stain quickly spread, absorbed by bits of parchment that were spread out over the desk, including the letter that the fluffy owl had been carrying. A zap had the bird squawking and fluttering over to the perch where Fawkes gave a soothing trill.
With a look of disgust at the moulting feather duster that was masquerading as an owl, Albus picked up the letter, and attempted to siphon off the spilt ink. Unfortunately, the only retrievable information was the signature. What on earth did his blasted protégé want now! There should have been no reason for her to contact him, being safely ensconced at the Burrow. The O.W.L results would have arrived, which should have kept her happy, and encouraged the 'boy' to take up his friendship once more. The comparison of their results should have emphasised her vast intellect. Albus was not completely blind to the machinations of youth and knew full well that nether Harry nor Ron were friendly with the girl. However, with Harry in the thrall of the elixir, it would not take much for him to take up with her once again and where Harry went the youngest Weasley male would surely follow.
Dropping the letter into the bin, along with all the other ruined parchment from his desk, Dumbledore decided that she could wait. Going to retrieve one of Voldemort's phylacteries was much more important to the broader game. If he secured that, he could almost ensure that Voldemort could return at least once more. A hint dropped in the right place, say a Board of Governors meeting, an unsecured door and there was the returned Dark Lord. Or with a spell or two, perhaps a fresh looking, new one. Regardless, retrieving it was his first task.
Having decided a course of action the headmaster stood. He glanced over to his pet, "Ensure that it is gone before I return," he said sternly, eyes flicking to where Errol, who had fallen off the perch, fell. "If it is still here, the Weasley's will require a new owl, and I suspect they cannot afford it."
Fawkes gave another sadder trill. As the headmaster apparated away he bent his head and cried a solitary tear, allowing it to fall onto the panting Errol.
With a twist and a blur of colours, Albus Dumbledore appeared on a deserted country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows. There was a wooden signpost, sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road. One arm pointing back up the road read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing forward said: Little Hangleton, 1 mile. His feet had barely hit the ground before the old wizard took off up the road. The lane curved to the left and fell steeply away. The small village of Little Hangleton was revealed nestled between steep hills. Dumbledore lengthened his stride as he continued down the road until the lane curved to the right. He stopped in front of the seemingly continuous hedge. A wave of his wand removed the illusion and he stepped through the revealed gap.
It took Dumbledore long minutes to deal with the black miasma that threatened to engulf him the moment he entered the yard, though he arrogantly thought this was because he had to cast his patronus simultaneously. His silver phoenix a barely visible flickering light. Briefly he wondered what was wrong with it, gone was the glow that once burned so brightly it inspired all the lowly wizards to fight Grindelwald. It was probably because he was distracted, the disease carrying black cloud was proving rather difficult to destroy. Finally, he succeeded and proceeded across the intervening yard towards the house.
It was there in what, if one was being generous, could be called the lawn that he saw the first signs that perhaps he had not been the first to discover Voldemort's hide-away. Just visible in a bare patch of dirt was a half scuffed out line, the grass to one side of it was depressed as if something heavy had sat upon it. Unable to make any sense of it Albus Dumbledore moved on towards the house. The snake affixed to the door, took but a moment to dispel, not detecting any further enchantments he pushed the door open and entered the room. The smell was hardly noticed as he quickly found the cavity under the floor and retrieved the silver box from the nest of snakes. With a grin he removed the lid and slid the ring into place on his finger, almost welcoming the compulsion.
It was marvellous really. He should of course have known that the Gaunt's would be the keepers of the resurrection stone. And Voldemort thought that he could keep it all to himself, that he should befoul it with part of his soul. The thought prompted the old man to examine the ring more closely … there was no soul attached to the ring! But Voldemort had killed his Uncle here, surely, he had used that death to create another Horcrux! Unless of course the ring was not actually what it appeared to be. Throwing off the compulsion, Dumbledore ripped the ring from his finger taking a strip of skin with it in his haste. A tap of his wand separated the stone from the mount, and he closed his eyes, twisting the stone three times …
Nothing …
NOTHING!
His fury knew no bounds, a blast of fire burst from his wand incinerating the hovel around him in an instant. The tall flames then exploded outwards consuming the surrounding forest and heading rapidly towards the nearby village. Flicking his wand again, the hedgerows on each side of the road also burst into flame, barely sparing the burning bushes a glance Dumbledore swivelled and disappeared with an almighty crack.
-o0o-
Severus watched his colleague as she lay on his couch. She moaned, writhed in discomfort, eyes flickering fast behind closed lids. He knew the instant that the process was compete as Minerva rolled over and vomited over the side of the couch, coughing heavily.
"I take it your memories have returned?" he said passing her a glass of cool water, banishing the mess from the floor.
"Not just this last year," she admitted panting slightly, she paused to take a sip of water and freshen her breath. "Multiple times over the last five years, and some in the years before that. It seems I have much to apologise for."
"Harry will just be pleased that you have been returned to your own self."
"I meant you Severus! It seems I learned of the way you were treated at home and lodged complaints with the Ministry. I had been made to forget."
"Oh!" Severus was unsure how to feel. Firstly, he was surprised that anyone apart from Lily had been aware of his home life. Secondly angry that Dumbledore had obviously not only ignored his own knowledge but had actually stepped in to prevent anyone else helping either. Finally confused about why the man should do so.
"I discussed the matter with Albus," Minerva looked betrayed as she sighed the name, "on a number of occasions and he was insistent that family were the absolute best to look after a child, when I disagreed with him and told him I was reporting it to the Ministry he obliviated me! I was also made to forget certain transgressions against you in this school, so that the perpetrators went apparently unpunished. Though on each occasion I at least sent letters off to their parents before meeting with him. I remember thinking it odd, when I had replies from Fleamont and Euphemia to say that they had punished James and Sirius over something or other, but …" Minerva paused and rubbed her temple.
Severus was dumbfounded that not only had the Head of Gryffindor attempted to punish James and Sirius, but that their parents had also! Well James' parents by the sounds of it.
"I know that you never got along," Minerva had continued talking, "But you and Sirius actually share very similar pasts."
"It might please you to know that we have discussed our past and reached a truce of sorts," Severus said.
"I am relieved to hear it. Now I believe we will have to meet with the other teachers, and gauge whether anyone else has been obliviated. Then we can make arrangements for our extension lessons to continue. It is odd, I remembered giving extra work to some students just not to Mr Potter and the Animagus test not at all."
"Hopefully that indicates that the rest of the teachers have not been mentally assaulted," Severus mused.
"Well, I might just visit Pomona and Filius, as a start," Minerva stood and moved to the fire. "I take it the other person you know that was obliviated was Poppy?" When her youngest colleague nodded, she continued, "Why have you not offered her the same potion?"
"I must confess that I have not kept any on hand, thinking that I would not need it. It takes many months to brew and uses ingredients that are not readily available. I have spent most of the year collecting ingredients so that there would be no record of me buying them. I began when I realised that Poppy had been affected, and just finished this batch three days ago. I made the choice to give it to you, as Poppy having the knowledge, she is missing would change nothing at this point, Harry's issues have been dealt with, externally."
"I am glad that the boy has someone on his side. I know he has Sirius, but while the man is brilliant, he is also erratic."
"I believe Black has also been having his issues addressed."
Minerva looked curious at the statement but when it became clear that Severus would say no more, she bid him farewell and disappeared through the floo.
-o0o-
Sirius was relieved, but being so tightly wound for so long, combined with the nap in the chair in the parlour, had left his skin buzzing with energy. Marlene was down in the kitchen arguing with Kreacher over what constituted an appropriate breakfast. It was an argument that Sirius did not want to get involved in, as far as he was concerned anything the elf cooked was better than something he could make with his own meagre skills. Percival had been safely delivered to the Weasleys. Amelia wanting Sirius to visit the Ministry was not a lie. She just did not want him there until the afternoon. With everyone busy, the Animagus was at a loose end.
He flopped onto his stomach on his bed with a groan, one arm swinging over the side. His fingers brushing the top of a box that had been pushed underneath. Wondering what long-forgotten mementos were contained within Sirius slid it out, rolled onto his back and lifted the box in one smooth movement. It was odd to see that box again, it had formed part of his therapy. Someone, probably Remus, had placed it in his bank vault when they had cleaned up his old apartment. It had provided a tangible source of positive memories for his therapy. Physical evidence that his life had not been the complete misery that the dementors had created. The lid fell softly onto the duvet as Sirius reached in and pulled out a handful of photos.
There was Harry, on his first broom. Zipping between his parent's legs and chasing the cat. A smile was drawn to the lips of the silver eyed man, as he put the picture aside and reached for the letter that had accompanied it.
"Sirius!" Marlene called; he had not even heard her coming up the stairs.
"Yeah," he half-heartedly replied, not in the mood to move.
"Oh, what are you doing?" she pushed open the door.
"Looking at memories."
"Of us?" she asked hopefully, moving over to the bed, but hesitant to sit on it.
"No. Lily and James," he indicated the picture.
"Is that Harry?" Marlene picked up the photograph.
"Mmmm."
"Always a cutie, wasn't he?"
"Gets it from his godfather," Sirius said somewhat proudly.
"Yes, he does," was the coy reply.
Sirius passed her the letter, ignoring the comment. Marlene was silent as she scanned the parchment. A shaky finger tracing each curve and line.
"This …" Marlene started to speak faintly. It was such a change of tone from her last comment that it had Sirius sitting up and paying attention. "This … she says about. B … Bathilda Bagshot."
Marlene's face went a pasty grey and sweat appeared on her brow. Sirius gently helped her perch on the edge of the bed.
"A memory?"
"Yes. He … Albus … Dumbledore, he knew Bathilda … Batty we called her, because she was getting a bit confused. They both lived in Godric's hollow. Lily and I, we saw a photo in Batty's house … it was a young man, his arm thrown around Dumbledore. She … I'm sure she said that they were engaged!"
"Ha, would not have thought the headmaster was that way inclined, but there you go," Sirius shrugged off the information.
"No," Marlene said urgently grabbing Sirius' arm. "That was not the important bit, the important bit was that the young man was Batty's great-nephew. The other man was Gellert Grindelwald!"