Harry was excited. Finally, he had it all prepared. He had needed to seek advice from Sirius to get it done, but being the consummate prankster that his godfather was, it had not taken them too long to iron out the kinks. Now he just had to wait for the perfect opportunity to use it. He could not help smiling as he walked towards the rec room. So caught up in planning how he was going to use it that he did not notice Malfoy until he had walked into the blonde.
"Oi! Watch it Potter," the taller boy spat as he shoved Harry away from him.
"Sorry," Harry said distractedly, swivelling away and walking on before the Slytherin said anything else. Leaving the taller boy starring after him mouth agape wondering what had happened to the Gryffindor. Draco no longer had any success in provoking the other boy's temper. Not that it was a problem, the Slytherin had more important things on his mind.
Pranking Hermione was not the only thing distracting Harry. Seeing Flitwick during his last detention with Severus had reminded him that he had not yet started his own Grimoire. The trunk containing the orbs had been left at Grimmauld Place for safe keeping, though he had brought his mother's journals with him. Perhaps some of the potions would be worth adding to the Grimoire as well. Was that even a done thing? Or were they just for spells? Harry made a mental note to ask Percival.
He pulled open the door to the rec room and glanced around. The room was tidy, and all the furniture they had moved into it the previous year was still in place.
"Thank you," Harry said out loud to the empty room.
"You're welcome," Percival said with a chuckle as he came up behind Harry. "I'm not quite sure what I have done though."
Harry turned his head and poked his tongue out, "Not you, the house elves."
A feeling of approval drifted through the room.
"Always so kind," Percival dropped his bag to the floor and slid his arms around Harry's waist, leaning his chin down to rest on the shorter boy's shoulder. "I'm not so sure we will need the snacks while we work now. It seems like there's very little to do."
Harry snorted, "Little? There's nothing to do. Everything is exactly as it was, all we have to do is let everyone know it's still here. I suppose we could go and check out the study?"
"If the elves tidied this room, I'm sure they would have kept that one clean as well."
"I suppose," Harry ducked a little and turned inside the circle of Percival's arms. Sliding his arms up and around his boyfriend's neck. "I had a question actually."
"Mmmm," Percival said, bending slightly to rub his nose against Harry's.
"Stop it, you're distracting me!"
Percival laughed but lifted his head, "What did you want to know?"
"You know how the Potter Grimoire is lost, right. And you know Flitwick suggested that I start a new one. Well, I really want to do that, but I don't know how. Do you?"
"I think I remember but it's been a long time since I studied ritual magic, and I have never made one," Percival frowned. "We'll have to check. I remember that it should be done on the winter solstice, it is a sign of new beginnings."
"At least that gives us some time. Do you think there'd be a book in the library at Grimmauld?"
"Bound to be. Ask Sirius tonight, get him to send it via your mailbox if there is."
"I also wanted to know if it's a spell only thing? Can I put some of Mum's potions in there too? I think Flitwick said I could."
"It's for everything Harry. Spells, ward schemes, potions. Even ways to train certain skills. Some family's even fill them with political information."
"I wonder if there is anything of dad's in there. Did he get to write in the Grimoire, or was it already missing?"
"Ask Remus and Sirius, they'll know. Perhaps Sirius will have hints on completing the Animagi transformation that you could add. You can ask them next time you mirror call."
Harry nodded and looked around the room, "I still think we should check out the Study."
"Later," Percival said smiling softly. He lowered his head to brush his lips against Harry's. Harry relaxed further into his arms. They had not had a lot of time alone recently and both had noticed, revelling in the moment. "Hmm," Percival drew back and rested his forehead against Harry's.
Harry tightened his grip on Percival's neck, pulling the older boy down, for another kiss.
"Well, well, well, Potter, who would have thought," Blaise strode into the room with a smirk. "When this gets out, girls' hearts will break everywhere."
The two boys separated slightly, a blush staining Harry's cheek.
"Shove off, Zabini. This isn't exactly new."
Blaise looked a little surprised, "How did I miss it? Malfoy keeps us up to date on all the latest Potter gossip."
"Well, we couldn't just wander the halls holding hands with Umbridge around last year, could we?"
"Suppose not. But with the way he watches you I'm still surprised he didn't notice something," he looked Percival up and down. "Good catch though, Potter."
Harry agreed with a grin, "I am indeed very lucky. What brings you to the rec room anyhow?"
"I wanted to see if it was open. After Snape's class the other day, I had a question about defence. I just can't seem to get a hang of silent casting."
It did not take long for word to get out and soon the rec room was a thriving hub of students from all houses once more.
-o0o-
It was an innocuous event. Nobody saw it for the set-up it was. All the fifth-year boys, apart from Harry were gathered around a single table in the common room. Harry's book bag was already resting on the table though the boy himself was not visible. Hermione was sitting at a table behind them, muttering and writing fervently on a long piece of parchment.
There was a sudden bang from the boy's stairwell, causing most of the room to jump.
"Sorry!" Harry called, emerging from his dorm in a shower of dust. "Fred and George seem to have left a few booby traps up here!" The room chuckled and returned to what they were doing. Harry made his way to where the fifth-year boys were studying.
"Thanks for picking up my bag," he smiled at Percival as he dropped into the chair beside him.
"Does anyone know whose quill this is?" Hermione asked reaching across Neville, causing him to lean back and away from her.
"It was here when we got here Granger," Ron said. "Why?"
She held up a quill that had snapped an inch from the tip, "It was my last one. Thanks for that Harry!"
"You've busted all your quills already? Even Nev isn't that accident prone," Seamus laughed.
"Thanks Seamus," Neville lifted his own quill in salute.
"Wasn't a compliment."
"I know," Neville grinned. "At least I don't blow them up or set them on fire them like someone else I could mention."
"That happened once in charms in first year," Seamus huffed, pretending to be affronted.
"More by good luck than good management," Harry added.
"Hey! I don't blow things up that much!"
"Seamus," Dean looked at his best mate. "You blew up a glass of water. An actual glass of water, Seamus! And that's without mentioning potions at all."
"Also in first year! How was I to know that the spell didn't work?!"
"The quill!" Hermione asked shrilly, sick of being ignored.
"Don't know," Neville shrugged. "It's not mine."
"It was here when we got here," Dean shrugged.
"Good," she snatched it off the table and turned away from them before either of those ridiculous excuses for prefects could come and harass her again.
Nobody, apart from Percival noticed that Harry now looked decidedly smug. He slid an arm around the slender boy's waist and pulled. Harry drifted sideways at the tug and rested his head against Percival's shoulder. It allowed Percival to turn and whisper into the mop that resided on Harry's head.
"What did you do?"
"Don't know what you're talking about," Harry murmured, twisting his neck so that his face pressed into the junction of Percival's neck, concealing his growing smile.
"I think you do."
"You'll just have to wait and see, then won't you."
They were struck by a cushion.
"Get a broom-cupboard!"
At that point the Gryffindor common room descended into anarchy. In the end only Minerva McGonagall was brave enough to end the Great Gryffindor Pillow fight of 1996. Forty-two conjured and transfigured pillows died that day.
-o0o-
Sirius put the mirror down and went to find Remus.
"You'll never guess, what's happened?" Sirius grinned as he came upon the werewolf sitting quietly reading the Prophet over a cup of tea.
"You've just been on a mirror call so it's to do with Harry, isn't it?" Remus smiled in amusement at his oldest friend.
"Hmmm," Sirius looked pleased. "You'll never guess!"
"He's obviously well and things are going ok, or you'd be whinging," Remus considered the matter. "And I doubt it was good grades because you wouldn't be this excited. No, you're right, I can't guess."
"I knew you wouldn't," Sirius said looking ridiculously pleased at the fact. "Lily has been awarded a Charms mastery!" he burst out, unable to wait for Remus to ask.
"What! But ..."
"Apparently she did a heap of research and spell creation while they were in hiding and recorded all the spells on some kind of orb which she also developed. After he opened her trunk Harry took them to Flitwick who sent three off to the Mastery Board, and, well … here we are."
"Well we always knew she was smart."
"Oh yeah, and Moody grew a new leg," Sirius said as if he was announcing that there was dust on the mantle, before standing up and walking out of the room.
"Oh, that's goo … wait what?" Remus dropped his paper and took after his errant friend. "Sirius! Come back here! You can't just say something like that and walk off!" He found Sirius chuckling to himself in the kitchen.
"What?" Sirius asked innocently.
"What do you mean what?"
"What do you mean, Remus?"
"Argh, Sirius stop it. Explain what you mean about Moody's leg!" Remus demanded.
"One of the spells Lily developed regrows limbs. Moody volunteered to try it, and it worked," Sirius said casually as if he was talking about the weather.
Remus stared at him, "Explain!"
"One of Lily's new spells regrew Moody's leg," Sirius said slowly.
"But … but … dark magic … it was cursed … everyone knows you can't fully heal anything that has been cursed … you just can't!" Remus was not adjusting well to having his world view shifted on its axis.
"Apparently what everyone knows is wrong. You can regrow cursed limbs and Lily figured out how," Sirius said smugly, inordinately proud of the women his best friend had married.
"But …" Remus whined.
"What's up with Remus," Marlene asked having come to investigate the kerfuffle.
"Lily made up a spell and Moody no longer has a wooden leg."
"The girl was smart!" she nodded as if it was to be expected.
"But it was cursed off," Remus protested.
Marlene shrugged, as Sirius looked smug, "And they're testing another one of her spells on Frank and Alice."
"What!"
"Really. Any word on how it's going?" Marlene had asked.
"Severus wasn't able to find out. Apparently, the staff at Mungo's are being tight lipped."
"How'd you know about Moody?"
"He stumbled into Harry's last detention while I was on the mirror."
"Stumbled, but you said his leg …"
"He was unsteady because he was a tad squiffy, Remus," Sirius explained still grinning. "He was actually singing. Which was awful by the way, seriously someone needs to do something about Celestina Warbuck! Harry was trying to convince Severus to give the man a hangover potion for the morning when I hung up."
"But there's no such thing," Marlene said.
"Yes, well I don't think Harry knows that and he was a bit excited that Lily's spell worked. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some post to send." Sirius took a book from behind the desk. It was wrapped in velvet so dark purple that it was nearly black. The black leather of the cover was embossed with a circle cut into quadrants each one bearing a picture depicting a season. The book was quickly covered in brown paper and given to the owl who appeared, to be sent to Harry via Gringotts.
"That looks like a pretty serious book to be sending Harry," Remus commented.
"He's looking into some light ritual magic."
"Really, I didn't think he would be interested."
"He wants to preserve Lily's spells in a Grimoire as the Potter one is missing," Sirius shrugged. "Besides I think Percival has been opening his eyes to the other forms of magic."
"It'll need to be a fairly solid book to cope with having a ritual cast on in," Remus mused. "I'll pick something up in Diagon …"
"He can't do it until just before Yule so there is time. Besides it's the sort of thing he should choose for himself."
"When did you become the sensible, knowledgeable one?" Marlene asked. "I always thought that was Remus' job."
Sirius chuckled, "Honestly it was after I had all those sessions with the Mind Healer, and the moment I realised that there is no higher priority in my life than looking after Harry."
"Aww you grew up," she grinned at him, "welcome to adulthood."
-o0o-
It was still dark when the hopefuls for the Gryffindor Quidditch team stepped out of the castle. The animals were just starting to stir in the depths of the forbidden forest, and the first strains of the dawn chorus were beginning to fill the air as they took off at a slow jog around the lake. Katie watched them from the rear of the group with a critical eye. Ron beside her looking like he was doing no more than a brisk walking pace, due to his longer legs.
"Alright you lot, a bit faster now," the captain prodded them to increase their speed, having judged them sufficiently warmed up. The early start had ensured that there were no extras and strays in the group today. Only the truly keen had bothered getting up so early which was a blessing. She chalked up a point to Ron's planning.
By halfway round the lake, the group had split in two, with the serious players and Muggleborns, who were used to exercising, in the lead. When the lap was complete, the second group collapsed onto the ground.
"Are you trying to kill us? We're here to try out for Quidditch not run around like muggles," Cormac McClaggen protested once he had caught his breath. He was lying sprawled on the grass, with the others from the slower group who had begun complaining loudly.
Katie could not contain her grin, rather pleased he had fallen into the second group. He might think he was better than the rest and truthfully, he was pretty good as a keeper, but he was annoying. His lack of fitness was a point against him making the team.
Two hours later a sweaty group of Gryffindors were sitting down at the table in the Great Hall, which was still nearly deserted. Katie and Ron had their heads bent together discussing, in quiet but passionate voices, who they thought would be the best on the team. As the debate grew more vigorous Harry cast a privacy ward around the pair so that they would not disturb the rest of the hall.
Percival who, after completing his own exercises, had wandered down to watch the end of the tryouts, passed Harry a bowl of fruit salad, covered in a large dallop of yogurt.
"Don't look now," Percival muttered, "but you might want to get Ron's attention."
Harry glanced up to see Hermione making her way towards the Gryffindor table, eyes narrowing as she saw Ron and Katie engrossed in arguing, one or the other jabbing at the list of names on the list in front of them as they made their point. Fortunately, at that moment, Jack Sloper became tired of waiting and lobbed a bread roll at Ron hitting him square in the forehead. Harry dropped the ward, allowing the pair to be hounded by the Quidditch team hopefuls.
"That's enough of that. The list will be posted on the notice board in the common room once we've decided," Katie said firmly. "The more you distract us the longer that will take."
"And anyone who continues to annoy us, will get an extra session of fitness if they happen to make the team," Ron added with a malicious smile. The threat worked to silence the group, causing Katie to squeeze Ron's arm, as they turned back to their list.
Hermione frowned but pulled out a textbook that one of the Prefects had allowed her to retrieve from the library. It really was not fair, she had only done what was necessary to take down Voldemort, yet here she was being punished for it. While the sessions with the Mediwitch (she refused to call her a Mind Healer, and there was no way Hermione needed a psychologist) were unnecessary, it was kind of nice to have someone that listened to her. And the woman, Hermione forgot her name not that it mattered, accepted everything she said. It still was not fair. Harry had done a heap of things wrong over the years, and yet he was not forced to beg the Prefects to take him to the library. He was not grounded to the common room. Where was his punishment? She made a note to bring it up with the Headmaster.
Hermione watched as Ron and Harry talked and laughed without her. She was not going to apologise when she had done nothing to apologise for. She had made her decisions based on what was the best for the wizarding nation and if Harry could not see that, then that was his problem. Of course, what Harry did, Ron copied. Perhaps only having the two of them as her friends was a little short-sighted, but it was necessary. Still, it was lonely sitting at the table all by herself, especially when Ron was sitting so close to Katie Bell. She glanced at the teachers table and sighed, Dumbledore did not have appear to have a lot of friends either, maybe it was a burden she would need to bear.
"I hear," McClaggen said as he slid into the seat beside her, "that not only are you the warrior witch who defeated Voldemort, but you're the brightest witch of your age." He glanced at where her essay on 'The Principles of Rematerialisation' was spread out on the table.
She blushed and looked down coyly, "Yes. Weren't you at tryouts this morning?" she asked smiling warmly at the boy sitting beside her.
"Yeah, bit of a waste of time. Katie had us running around before we even began to fly. I was so tired I let two shots through," he complained. "It was ridiculous. I reckon she only did it because she had already chosen her team."
"That sounds terrible," she reached over and placed her hand on his forearm, quickly glancing at Ron to see if he was watching. "It sounds like they're trying to improve the team's fitness, though I don't see the point when you spend the whole time sitting on brooms."
"That's exactly what I said!" McCormack agreed. "I don't see why she was made Captain; anyone can see she doesn't have the right skills. I told them …"
Hermione nodded along as Cormac talked at her, planning out her essay in her head.
"So, how'd you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"
Hermione startled, as she tuned back into the conversation. Should she? She had not meant to push it quite that far, still Ron had always had a limited emotional range, perhaps a little jealousy might get his attention back where it belonged. As she had noticed the previous year, Cormac was rather handsome, which just made the situation better. She might as well get something out of the deal.
She smiled winsomely, "Sure that would be lovely."
-o0o-
Harry watched as Hermione quickly ate her dinner and then left the Great Hall. They were not due to see the Headmaster until a little later, so he took his time.
"Go on," Percival encouraged after the desserts had been cleared away. "You may as well get it over with."
"Yeah, Hermione left ages ago," Ron added.
"Just remember what Severus said and be careful."
"Alright," Harry stood and dragging his feet wandered in the direction of the Headmaster's office. With almost everyone in the Great Hall the corridors were deserted. The scuff of a foot on the flagstones had him ducking behind a statue. It turned out to be Trelawney, muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.
"Two of spades: conflict," she murmured as she approached the place where Harry had hidden. "Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man-"
She stopped dead, right on the other side of Harry's statue.
"Well, that can't be right," she said sounding annoyed, and Harry heard her re-shuffling vigorously as she set off again, leaving nothing but a whiff of cooking sherry behind her. Harry waited until he reached the spot in the seventh-floor corridor where a single gargoyle stood against the wall.
"Acid Pops," said Harry. The gargoyle leapt aside: the wall behind it slid apart, and a moving spiral stone staircase was revealed, on to which Harry stepped, so that he was carried in smooth circles up to the door with the brass knocker that led to Dumbledore's office.
Harry knocked. Breathing deeply and quickly checking over his Occlumency defences.
"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice.
"Good evening, sir," said Harry, walking into the headmaster's office. As he had suspected Hermione was already ensconced in a chair in front of the headmaster's desk. She was looking rather subdued. He wondered what they had been talking about before he had entered.
"Ah, good evening, Harry. Sit down," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I hope you've had an enjoyable week."
"Yes thanks, sir," said Harry.
"You must have been busy. I hear that you've had several detentions with Professor Snape already!"
"Er … only a couple," began Harry awkwardly, not sure what to say, before falling back on the sullen teenager routine, "he just doesn't like me sir."
"Well, you'll just have to make the best of it I'm afraid. I have arranged with Professor Snape that you will do tonight's detention next Saturday instead."
"Right," said Harry, studiously ignoring Hermione's attempt at Dumbledore's patented disappointed and disapproving expression and looking around the room. The circular office looked just as it always did; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames; and Dumbledore's magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watching Harry with bright interest. Harry wondered what the bird was thinking.
"So, Harry," said Dumbledore, in a business-like tone drawing the boy's attention back to the Headmaster. "You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned for you during these – for want of a better word- lessons?"
Harry shrugged, had the old man forgotten that he had already seen the first memory with Severus? Maybe Rita Skeeter was right, and Dumbledore was dementing. Dumbledore looked at the other occupant of the room.
"I know you are both aware that despite the events at the Ministry that Lord Voldemort has survived. You have each been responsible for his downfall and must be prepared to defend against him upon his return," the old man began gravely.
Hermione sat up straighter in her chair looking proud.
"I have decided that it is time, now that Harry knows what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill him fifteen years ago, for you to be given additional information."
"From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into the thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Hermione, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."
"But you think you're right?" said Hermione.
"Naturally I do," said Dumbledore sounding supremely confident, before he affected a sombre expression. "However, I make mistakes much like any man. Though because I am–" here he smiled shyly as if embarrassed over admitting some great secret "- rather more intelligent than most, my mistakes tend to be more expansive." The statement did not ring true, and Harry rather thought that the man did not think he made any mistakes at all.
"Does what you are going to tell us have anything to do with the prophecy?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"It has a great deal to do with the prophecy," said Dumbledore, as casually as if Hermione had asked him about the next day's weather, "and I certainly hope that it will help the pair of you to survive the oncoming confrontation."
Dumbledore got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry and Hermione, who eagerly turned in her seat to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When Dumbledore straightened, he was holding a shallow stone basin, there were some runes etched around the rim, but otherwise it was quite plain.
Dumbledore was still smiling as he turned back to the pair.
"We are going for a trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane," said Dumbledore, pulling from his pocket a crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance. Harry was relieved to note that it did not appear to have any of the black strands in it that had been in memory Severus had been given.
"Who was Bob Ogden?" Hermione asked.
"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Dumbledore. "He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me." Harry stifled a snort, at the lie. "We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. You will stand, Harry …"
He gestured to a point in front of his desk, before indicating for Hermione to join them gathered around the bowl. Dumbledore tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve, where they swirled and shimmered, neither liquid nor gas.
"After you," said Dumbledore, pointing at the bowl.
Harry dropped his wand into his hand and waited until he had seen Hermione fall into the bowl before following. As his eyes adjusted to the dazzling sunlight, he recognised the country lane that when followed would lead to the Gaunt's shack. He lingered behind Hermione as she followed Ogden, doing his best to stay beside the Headmaster. The scene unravelled as he had previously experienced, so Harry was able to devote his time to watching Hermione and the Headmaster. Hermione watched Ogden and the Gaunt's interact with avid attention.
"You know what he is saying, I'm sure, Harry?" said Dumbledore quietly, as Hermione bemoaned the fact, she could not understand what Marvolo was saying.
"Yes, of course," said Harry, "He's speaking Parseltongue."
"Very good," said Dumbledore, he hid his disappointment that Harry did not immediately provide a translation with a nod and a smile as they followed the group inside the house, now glimpsing Merope. Finally, they watched Ogden running for his life back up the lane. Merope's screams echoing in their ears.
"I think that will do," said Dumbledore. He took them by their elbows and tugged. Next moment, they were soaring weightlessly through the darkness, until they landed squarely on their feet, back in Dumbledore's now twilit office. Harry stepped away from the desk and out of the headmaster's grasp, sliding his wand back into his holster.
"What happened to the girl in the cottage?" Hermione asked, as Dumbledore lit the lamps that hung around the walls with a flick of his wand.
"Merope," Harry supplied when Hermione stalled over the girl's name.
"Oh, she survived," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk and indicating for Hermione and Harry to do the same. "Ogden apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were over-powered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot of Muggle baiting and attacking a Ministry official. Morfin who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo who had injured several of the Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months."
Hermione gasped, "Marvolo!"
Dumbledore smiled at her, "Yes indeed. Do you realise who …?" He looked towards Harry, really, he was not sure if the potion had made the boy dim or if it was just how he was to begin with. In some ways it was a good thing that it was wearing off.
"Oh," Harry said deliberately affecting a vague manner, "Was that … that old man was …?"
"Voldemort's grandfather, yes. Glad to see you're keeping up," said Dumbledore condescendingly. "Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope, were the last of the Gaunts. A very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw was left in squalor and penury, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son and rather more than his daughter."
"That's horrible," Hermione sniffled. "So Merope was … was …" She shook herself and sat up straight before whispering, "Voldemort's mother?"
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes at her dramatics.
"Indeed, she was," said Dumbledore. "And it so happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether you noticed?"
"The Muggle, Morfin attacked! The man on the horse?" Hermione said excitedly.
"Very good indeed," said Dumbledore, beaming with pride. "Yes, that was Tom Riddle senior, the handsome Muggle who used to go riding past the Gaunt cottage and for whom Merope cherished a secret, burning passion."
"And they ended up married?" Harry asked not having to feign disbelief, there was really only one way in which that would have occurred as he had already discussed with Severus.
"I think you are forgetting," said Dumbledore, "that Merope was a witch. I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorised by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life, then I am sure, she was able to give full rein to her abilities and to plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years."
Harry frowned as he considered it. While it was possible that Merope had improved once her oppressive family had departed, he doubted that she had suddenly became the amazing witch that Dumbledore claimed. It was obvious she had not gone to Hogwarts, so how then would she have learnt any spells or potion making. It certainly looked as if her father had never bothered to teach her anything, so it was doubtful that she could even read. Which ruled out learning from books.
"Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his Muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?"
"The Imperious curse," Harry suggested at the same time Hermione said, "A love potion."
"Very good. Personally I am inclined to think that she used a love potion. I am sure that it would have seemed more romantic to her and I do not think it would have been very difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case within a few months of the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter."
In Harry's mind given the conversation between Tom Senior and his friend, regardless of how hot the day, it seemed unlikely that he would stop at the cabin let alone accept a drink from one of the occupants. The way the Headmaster was talking it did not seem like this, was part of the conjecture Dumbledore had said they would engage in. Harry wondered how the man knew what had happened.
"But the villager's shock was nothing compared to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal ready on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done."
It was the oddly specific details (seriously an inch of dust, the man had only been imprisoned for six months! Maybe it was a wizard thing) that convinced Harry that Dumbledore must know all this because he had seen it for himself. So apparently, she could read and write either that or someone else had written the note or perhaps the note was only a tool in Dumbeldore's story.
"From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from this time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death- or perhaps he simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."
"And Merope she died too, didn't she?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumour flew around the neighbourhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in'. What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying, however, the villages guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he married her for this reason."
Obviously Dumbledore did not do the research that Severus did. Did he know so little about Muggles? So where had he come by his information, how was it retrieved?
"But she did have his baby!" Hermione burst out.
"Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."
"What went wrong," Hermione asked. "Why did the love potion stop working?"
"Again, this is guesswork," said Dumbledore, "but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that he would by now have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what had become of his son."
The sky outside was inky black and the lamps in Dumbledore's office seemed to glow more brightly than before.
"I think that will do for tonight," said Dumbledore after a moment of silence.
"Yes, sir," Harry stood, and facing Hermione stepped away so that his back was to the wall. He walked sideways a few steps as Hermione joined him, so that he could open the door to allow her to precede him through it. Then he followed, closing the door behind them.
"It's ever so interesting, isn't it?" Hermione twittered as they walked.
Harry contemplated how he was going to leave the girl, without causing her to be offended. In the end he decided blunt was probably best.
"Well I might leave you here. I think I'm going to make a stop by the kitchens before I head back. See you," he quickly swung his cloak over his shoulders and used her momentary shock to move away from her.
"Harry Potter! You come back here! I wanted to talk to you. Argh," she stamped her foot. It had been the perfect opportunity, Albus had told her that she had to get Harry back on side, they needed him! There were things he needed to do so that Voldemort could be completely defeated. He had not told her what as yet, but she knew it was vitally important, which was why he was keeping it a secret. Perhaps she should just try and Imperious the boy. She had not managed to get the spell to take hold on a human as yet, but she could manage spiders, and small rodents. Sure, he had appeared to be able to resist it when it had been cast on him in their fourth year, but that was Barty Crouch Junior who was Death Eater and therefore could not have been particularly magically talented, unlike herself. She was sure once she had practiced a bit, he would be unable to resist.
Harry watched as Hermione's face changed expression through a range of emotions finally settling in a satisfied smile. It made his skin crawl, whatever she had decided on could mean nothing good. Suppressing a shiver, he turned and hurried down the nearest staircase, skipped over the trick step, and practically jumped between the sections as the staircase swung away from where he wanted to go.
A short while later, he was standing in the dungeons, with a hand raised to knock on a wooden door.
"Quickly," a deep voice urged as the door opened.
"Thanks," Harry slipped around Severus and into the room.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Severus closed and secured the door. "I spoke to the mutt just yesterday, surely he does not need to talk to me again so soon?"
"No, it's not that," Harry shook his head. "I just had the lesson with Dumbledore and Hermione. I just … please, could you check if they did anything?"
"Did you remain behind them?"
"I couldn't in the memory, I walked beside Dumbledore, but he had his wand out the whole time. If he can silently cast …" Harry paused, there was no need to say anymore.
Severus raised his wand and began casting all the detection spells he knew.
"Anything?" Harry asked in trepidation.
"A monitoring spell, usually used by mothers on small children and a spell I haven't seen before. Finite Incantatum." Severus cast again, then released his held breath. "It is gone, it was a behaviour modifier of some kind, though it has been reworked in some way. I think it was aimed at making you more accepting of things that they might say to you."
"Hermione said she wanted to talk to me on the way back to the common room. I used my cloak to get away."
"I am glad that you came here," Severus gave a tight smile. "In fact, I think it might be a good idea if you come and see me after each lesson."
"I will. Thanks, Sev," Harry gave the man a quick hug, before sliding his Cloak around his shoulders and moving to the door, "I said I was heading to the kitchens, so I had best do that."
"Or you could just make your way back to the tower and ask Dobby to go to the kitchens for you," Severus suggested.
"Great idea, thanks," Harry smiled and slid the Cloak over his head.
"And not too many sweets!" Severus chided as the door opened, "It's too close to bedtime and you'll never get to sleep." The door paused in its movement before closing quietly. "That boy will be the death of me," the man complained to the empty room.
-o0o-
Harry had not lingered in the common room once he had made his way back up the staircases. He simply bumped Percival's shoulder as he walked past, still covered in his cloak, having slipped through the portal behind two seventh years returning from the library. It was fortunate that he came upon them, as Dobby had loaded him up with food and covered him in the cloak again, before popping away.
It only took Percival a minute to make his excuses and follow Harry into the dormitory.
"Could you give me a hand?" Harry's muffled voice asked.
Percival removed the cloak, and promptly laughed at Harry's fully laden arms.
"Well Ron and Seamus will be happy at any rate. Though I can't see much to satisfy their cravings for dessert."
"Severus said not too many sweets before bed," Harry said looking perplexed, causing Percival to smile fondly at the shorter boy.
"And you listened to him?"
Looking sheepish, Harry admitted, "No, but apparently Dobby did."
"I see he still got you a slice of treacle tart," Percival said, taking plates off the stack and setting them on the bedside tables of the other boys, in accordance with their preferences. Finally, relieved of his burdens, Harry reached for tart, before aborting the move and taking up a pumpkin pasty instead.
"So, how was it with Dumbledore?"
They sat side by side on Harry's bed as he replayed the evening.
"It just sounded like he was there, you know. Like he actually knew what had happened," Harry finished.
"And what do you think about Merope?"
"Well like I said to Severus I feel sorry for her, I do, but that's no excuse to be potioning someone. Something tells me that there's more to the story than Dumbledore's telling us."
"Yeah, I got that feeling too," Percival nodded.
Later as he snuggled down under his blanket, Harry contemplated Severus' odd behaviour. He was not sure why he needed to understand it, but it seemed important somehow. Why should Severus care if Harry had a bad night's sleep, and why did Harry feel obligated to follow his instruction? Weird.
-o0o-
"A T what do you mean I got a T!"
"I bet a Galleon that she says …"
Neville, Ron and Harry looked at each other and said in unison, "I'm the smartest witch of the age!"
"but I'm the smartest witch of the age! You've marked me wrong, clearly you don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to take this to Professor Dumbledore and we'll see what he says about this! You'll be fired on the spot!"
The boys snickered as Percival looked on amused. Hermione was arguing with Bathsheda Babbling over the results of her last assignment. This was the fifth class where she had received a Troll. She had argued with all the Professors over it. Transfiguration was next, the thought made Harry laugh a little louder. Even though Hermione turned to glare at them he thought he had managed to pass it off as one of the boys telling a joke.
"Quick we had best escape now," Percival muttered as it looked like Hermione was about to start heading their way.
Once in the corridor they ran. Arriving at the study breathless a few minutes later, pushing through the door in a tangle of arms and legs.
"What did you do Harry?" Ron asked as they collapsed onto piles of cushions.
"You know those quills Fred and George sell right, the smart answer ones? Well, I bought one, but I put an illusion charm on it aimed at Granger, she sees what she thinks she's written, while really she's writing whatever random smart-arse remarks the pen comes up with."
"Wicked!"
"The charms not real strong so it should wear off in a week with the amount of use it's getting; it'll be back to a normal quill then. Not enough to affect her marks overall, but enough that she will hopefully pay more attention to her work than to us."
They settled into a contented silence as the worked on their homework until it was time to go to dinner.
-o0o-
"Keep moving," Percival called as he flicked another hex towards his boyfriend. "Save your magic if you can, and just move out of the way. The Unforgiveables cannot be blocked anyway so get in the habit of dodging and blocking rather than shielding."
He demonstrated by having Ron and Neville cast stinging hexes at him as fast as they could while he dodged and swerved. "Sure it's a third year spell but it works well as a distraction especially if you hit them in the face. And you can use this as target practice."
"Now Harry, your turn."
Harry stood in front of his friends nervously. Ron and Neville grinned and raised their wands.
…
"Oh, come on!" Harry complained as Ron managed to clip his elbow again.
"Turn sideways," Percival called. "Move your feet. Quicker!"
"Argh, enough!" Harry gasped ten minutes later. "I can't. No more."
He fell into a heap on the cushions.
"You did pretty well," Percival complimented.
"Pretty … well," Harry gasped. "I was terrible!" He sucked in a big breath, eyes watering slightly. "How … how am I supposed to beat Riddle? I can't even-"
Percival waved Neville and Ron from the room and moved to sit beside Harry.
"Who says you have to? Huh?"
"They all expect it of me."
"All? Sirius doesn't, what about Severus? Harry, who knows what that prophecy means or if it even refers to you and Tom Riddle. Just because Dumbledore says so? We know he lies. Maybe it does mean you have to fight him. Maybe I am the power he knows not, or perhaps it's Remus or Sirius. Then: either must die at the hand of the other, what does that even mean? Perhaps you'll find a poison in those books of yours, or a spell that has been forgotten or that your mum made up. Anything could happen, don't count yourself out because of this. You're just starting. Besides what am I chopped liver? Maybe I am the hand that he must die by."
"But-"
"No buts," Percival took Harry's hand in his. "Come on, I believe we have detention again tonight."
He pulled Harry to his feet and into a hug. Harry wrapped his arms around Percival and tucked himself under the taller boy's chin. Soaking in the warmth for a moment.
"You really think I did ok."
Percival chuckled, and leaned back to look into those green eyes, "Harry you got hit ten times in thirty minutes in a two on one when you weren't defending yourself. You did well. Come on McGonagall will never forgive us if we are late."
-o0o-
Petunia looked up as she heard the flap in the door squeak as the mailman pushed a letter through. She really hoped it was not another bill. While she had managed to find a part time job since leaving Vernon, things were still tight. She would forever be grateful that Sirius Black had paid Dudley's tuition especially as she had not wanted to disturb his schooling. Smeltings had really been most helpful and she was proud of the improvements that Dudley had made. The boxing coach had seen something in Dudley that no-one else had and had taken him under his wing, setting strict academic and fitness goals for Dudley to meet. Petunia had worried that with all the changes that it would be too much and he would fail, but Dudley had surprised her, with his steady determination to meet the coaches expectations. She flicked the tea towel she had been using over her shoulder as she made her way to the front door. There were two letters on the mat, one from each of her boys. Now that was an odd thought, she hoped that Lily would forgive her for the 'bad years', as she now dubbed them. Pushing guilty thoughts aside she opened Dudley's first.
She chuckled as she unfolded her son's letter and began to read. It seemed that she had not been the only one to notice Dudley was turning into a fine young man. Apparently, a young lady from the neighbouring all-girls school had noticed. They were making plans to catch up in the Christmas break and perhaps go to the cinema. Her little boy was growing up and she was so proud. She re-folded the letter and began preparing a pot of tea. When the task was complete she sat down to read the letter from Harry. While she had never approved of same sex relationships before, she could not say a word against Percival being Harry's boyfriend. The lad had done so much to help their family. It was another thing she had been wrong about. She sighed as she read, her poor nephew had gone through so much, and those people had done nothing to help him, it made the bitter feelings she had about the magical world return. The last line of Harry's letter contained a warning. Dumbledore was still making noises about needing to move back into the house on Privet drive. She wondered how he was thinking of achieving that, given the house had been sold. He was probably thinking he would use magic to make it the way he wanted. The arrogance and lack of care was appalling.
Petunia placed Harry's letter to the side and picked up her cup. She, like Dudley had been slowly making changes to her own life. McMillan had been true to his word getting Vernon to sign the divorce papers and pushing the whole thing through without her having to see her ex-husband. A year later and the whole thing was settled. The house on Privet Drive had been sold, and McMillan had also managed to ensure she got half of the sale adding to the nest egg that Gringotts had given her. She had bought a little car and found a part time job at the village post office. The move had changed her outlook on life, and she no longer spent her days gossiping over the fence though she still met the local ladies for tea and had joined the book club, but now she was focused on looking after herself and Dudley rather than what was going on in the neighbourhood. It was … freeing.
-o0o-
"So, what are we going to do about Dumbledore," Remus pressed as he sat at the table opposite Sirius.
The animagus sighed, "I don't know, that's the problem. I worry about pressing him too hard while the kids are at Hogwarts."
"And Severus," Remus added with a grin.
"Shut it you. Yes, Severus too."
Remus just laughed, "I called Addison to come and talk to Marlene. She's livid and not really holding it together. She wants Dumbledore's head on a platter."
"I don't blame her. Something like that makes you look at it all differently doesn't it. Not pushing for my trial, placing Harry at the Dursley's, ensuring you weren't around. Where does it all end? Why is he so focused on Harry? Is it really just about the prophecy or is there something else? What is the bigger picture?"
Mooney felt something worm inside, a pressure behind his eyes. The prowling presence that protected him from Riddle's curse on the ring was in the forefront of his mind, trying to get his attention. Remus growled earning a glance from Sirius.
"Whatever it is Mooney just say it."
Eyes flashing gold, Mooney spoke in a voice like gravel, "It's too smooth. He's done this before."
Black, tipped his head as he considered it, "Perhaps, but so what?"
With a shake Remus returned to himself, "We need evidence. Marlene and I can research, you concentrate on the Horcruxes and keeping the kids safe. We'll start with Bathilda Bagshot and Godric's Hollow."
"I'll sound Harry out to see how he's going translating that journal, just in case there is something in there."
"Be careful, the last thing we need is Harry trying to go after Dumbledore by himself."
"Yeah. Did I tell you what he did to Hermione?"
-o0o-
"Hey Lavender," Harry dropped onto the couch that the fifth-year girl was sitting on. She was busy writing in a leather-bound journal. He peered over her shoulder.
It was a dark and stormy night, I was alone in my house when …
"Dream diary for Divination?"
"Mhmm," Lavender nodded.
"I have a question but I'll wait," Harry settled down and pulled out the latest Arithmancy sheet.
Ten minutes later Lavender, finished writing with a final, somewhat violent, full stop.
"Right Harry, what's the problem? Is it your hair because you know that your grandfather created a potion for that right?"
"Actually, I think Perce likes it this way," Harry said with a grin.
"Oh is it your horrible dress sense?"
"Shush you, Sirius is working on that with me."
"We'd noticed," she winked at him, then giggled. "Seriously Harry, what do you need?"
He flicked up a spell to prevent them being overheard, "You may have noticed that a certain someone has been getting on our nerves recently," Lavender nodded, "We feel that the Wizengamot's decision was, well, let's say insufficient."
"Oh," Lavender's eyes glittered. "You wouldn't know anything about the recent decline in her marks, would you?"
"Hmm, what you don't know can't be forced out of you," Harry tapped his nose. "What I was wondering was if Miss Granger uses any potions or self-care products?"
"Well, I would tell, but sadly if anyone were to touch the Princess's products, all the girls in the dorm would fall under scrutiny and we don't want Parvati's prefect appointment to be revoked now do we," the blonde said in a pointed statement.
"You raise a valid point," Harry considered. "We definitely want Parvati to continue as prefect."
"However, you being Muggle raised are aware of what her parents do?"
"They're dentists," Harry said confused.
"Well, I don't know if you know this or not," Lavender quickly scanned the room, checking to see if anyone was paying them attention despite the silencing ward, "Hermione Granger cleans her teeth after every meal."
"She cleans her teeth after every meal?" Harry scrunched up his nose. Percival on the other side of the room, smiled slightly at the cuteness.
"Every meal, Harry," Lavender nodded with a big grin. "Even lunch."
"Even lunch?" Harry frowned, "Oh, oh, so she takes her things with her, so if we were to do something after lunch, between classes literally anyone could have done it."
"Now you get it, Potter," Lavender smirked. She leaned in suddenly. "I want in!"
"But you just said,"
Lavender hissed, "She is making my best friend's life hell. She does a different thing every day. She casts little spells when she thinks no-one notices, but Harry, I do. We've discussed it with McGonagall, but every detention she gives is cancelled, every point she takes is returned. If our Head of House can't help, I'll do something about it myself."
"As long as Parvati is in the clear," Harry nodded. "Right, I need to talk to-"
"Fred and George," Lavender nodded.
"Yeah but I think I've got an idea," he dropped picked up his Arithmancy homework. "I need details, I want to know the exact brand of toothpaste she uses, what type and colour her brush is. How long does she brush for? Does she use mouth wash? What does she use to carry them around in? Does she floss?"
"What's floss?"
"Flossing is using a very thin piece of string to clean between the teeth."
"Oh right, give me a few days and I'll have the details for you."
"Let me know if you think of anything else."
"Will do Harry," Lavender waved him away.
-o0o-
Luna joined them for breakfast the next day. She breezily sat beside Harry and opposite Neville. Humming to herself as she delicately selected berries and added them to her bowl.
"Yogurt?" Neville offered her the bowl.
"Mmmm," Luna considered, "I'd really prefer strawberry pudding."
With a pop a bowl appeared in front of her.
"Thank you," Luna smiled at the ceiling. "Huh, I didn't realise the snarflelumps would be out so early in the morning."
"I doubt they ever really go away," Harry said.
"Do you think so?"
"Yeah I think they just like to help out, especially someone as nice as you Luna."
There was a mocking snort further up the table, from Hermione, which they ignored. Just then a wave of silence preceded a group of Ravenclaws walking into the Great Hall. Their hands were bandaged, their arms bruised and one of them had a black eye. All of them looked decidedly disheveled.
"I wonder what happened there?" Percival mused.
"I think they might have bumped into a trunk and it might have responded with extreme prejudice," Luna said with a serene smile.
Another disapproving cluck could be heard from up the table.
"Well, they ought to be more careful when moving around the dorm then," Harry shrugged.
"Miss Lovegood," Filius Flitwick had approached while they were talking.
"Yes Professor," Luna blinked at him.
"Miss Bampton and Miss Arncliffe have just come to me to with a strange tale. They say that your trunk attacked them."
"That's very odd, professor," Harry piped up from Luna's side. "You see Percival and I warded Luna's trunk on the train, and there was nothing unusual about the trunk then."
The Ravenclaw Head of House looked at the boys shrewdly, "Perhaps you gentlemen would show me the protections you placed on the trunk."
"I'd prefer it if that happened in your office, sir," Harry said respectfully, "You see that ward series is one I've been working on as part of my project for Runes."
"Certainly," Flitwick said cheerfully, "I'll have one of the elves bring the trunk in question to my office."
Ten minutes later they gathered around the trunk as it sat quiescent on the floor trying to be as unobtrusive as possible ...
"As you can see Professor, there's nothing exciting about the trunk at all."
"Hmm, indeed the little legs do seem to be missing. What did you ward it against?"
"The usual, fire, water and theft."
"Theft?"
"Yes, sir theft. You see I take offence when a kind and gentle soul, such as Luna, has to post notices around the halls on the last night of school to get her belongings back. When she has to wander the halls in winter in bare feet, because the Nargles have taken her shoes."
The Charms professor considered the boy in front of him for a moment, "Would you say that the antitheft ward, might be the one you put the most intention into, Harry?"
"Professor, I'd say my whole intention when I was creating the scheme was to protect Luna from being bullied."
"Ah, I had wondered," the Professor stared at the trunk for a moment, then reached out a hand and patted the lid. "You did a good job my friend. Perhaps less with the teeth next time, hmm?"
For an inanimate object the trunk seemed to give off the air of a negligent shrug.
"I suppose that is the best I can ask for. You gentlemen had better head to class. I'll only keep Miss Lovegood for a little longer."
"Luna?" Harry said, asking if she was ok with the arrangement.
"I'll be okay Harry, after all my trunk is here."
Harry nodded and the boys left.
"Now how about you tell me what has been happening Miss Lovegood?"
Later it was noticed that Ravenclaw was down one hundred points and four of the fifth-year girls had detentions every weekend for a month.
-o0o-
"How are they going?" the healer looked into the room, a roll of parchment unfurled from a pile that was drifting along behind her and attached itself to her clipboard. A quill hovered above it.
"Minimal changes so far," the Mediwizard replied as he joined her in the room. "Obs all stable. They do seem to be paying more attention to things, but there is nothing concrete I can put my finger on. I had hoped this would really be something," he sighed, "that we'd see some improvement."
"Don't give up just yet. They've been here for fifteen years, that sort of damage isn't going to heal overnight or even in a couple of weeks. If you still think they are attending more, but we've no solid evidence in a fortnight, then we'll find someone skilled in Legilimency to come and have a look. Maybe they're lost in there."
"Maybe," the mediwizard nodded.
Two pairs of eyes followed them as they continued on their rounds.