Chapter 18
Chapter Summary:
Hermione's Christmas. Return to Hogwarts.
A/N: Some quotes to be found within, if you have seen it before it is not mine.
-o0o-
Hermione's holidays had been going well. It had taken some tweaking to reset her parents' memories to an acceptable level, but after some judicious practice she was getting much better at casting Obliviate. Apparently the Wizengamot had sent them a letter detailing the events that had led to her victimisation at school, effectively overcoming the Obliviate used by the headmaster. Then, just the day before she had returned for her holiday, McGonagall, her own Head of House no less, had visited to discuss her 'falling grades'. Obviously, the situation was intolerable, and she had adjusted their memories accordingly. Despite not being able to visit the Burrow, the rest of the holidays had been enjoyable; her parents having left her largely to her own devices.
Then just yesterday a member of the Wizengamot had knocked on the front door. Apparently there had been a meeting about her. Given that neither she nor the headmaster had been invited to attend it was clearly not legitimate. At the meeting it had been decided that her appointments with the healer, and her grounding would continue for the rest of the year. They had explained the situation to her parents, again undoing her good work. Needless to say, she had not allowed that to stand, and had removed the memories from them as soon as the door had closed behind Madame Marchbanks.
Christmas morning dawned, and Hermione woke early to the light streaming in through her parted curtains. With a smile she rolled out from under the covers and slipped her feet into her slippers. Wrapping her fluffiest dressing gown around herself she tied it together in a bow and skipped up the hall excited to see what her parents had bought her for Christmas.
Her parents were seated at the table, two plates of bacon and eggs and two coffees steaming in mugs before them. They glanced up as she emerged from the stairwell. Her mother screamed, which was odd as Hermione had not thought she had been particularly quiet.
"What are you doing here?" her father demanded, his chair scrapped on the floor as he stood.
"I told you I thought there was someone else in the house," her mother whispered.
Hermione frowned, "What do you mean, what am I doing here? I came home from school last week!" she protested indignantly. "Didn't you even make me breakfast? On Christmas morning? How rude!" She stepped up ready to pull out a chair but her father, moved an arm to block her.
"Dad? What are you doing?"
"Dad?" he said in confusion. "I … I don't have … who are you?" he demanded.
"I'm me, Hermione, your daughter!" Hermione rolled her eyes, at her father's ridiculous joke.
"Daughter … we don't have …" he replied vaguely.
"I always liked the name Hermione," her mother whispered. "I said if we had a girl…"
Looking around, hair spinning wildly around her head, Hermione seized a photo from the counter. "Look, see!" she shoved it towards the pair. "This is us in France three years ago, we went there in the summer, remember."
"I think I remember something …" they held the frame in shaking hands and stared.
-o0o-
Dudley smiled hesitantly at his mother across the table. All day he had been feeling like he was waiting for something to happen, something bad. The air seemed to smell of ozone, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. Brushing it aside he sat down at the dinner table, the day after tomorrow he would head back to school leaving his mother alone.
"Why didn't Harry come and visit?" Dudley asked. "It would've been good to see him."
"I think he had planned to," Petunia replied, "something must have come up. His godfather wrote to say that they would be busy but would try and squeeze a visit in at Easter if they can."
"Do you think he hates us, and that's why he doesn't come?"
Petunia, took a deep breath, "He … Harry … no." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Dudley.
"I wouldn't blame him if he did," Dudley said. "We weren't very nice to him."
"No, we weren't," his mother agreed. "All we can do is be better from now on."
Outside, the wind seemed to stop. Goosepimples broke out on the skin at the back of Dudley's neck.
"Mum, I think … "
Petunia stood and moved to peer out the window.
"Something's not right," she murmured.
Not waiting for another sign, Dudley moved to the mantle and grabbed the sphere that had rested there since his mother had been discharged from hospital. "Do you think we should break it?"
"I can't see anything out there. Perhaps we should wait, I don't want to waste it."
-o0o-
Harry smiled as he woke, it was still early he could tell by the dull light that filtered into the room. Without moving he opened his eyes, revelling in the warmth that surrounded him. He doubted he would ever get enough of it. Subconsciously his thumb moved, gently stroking warm skin.
"If you are going to keep doing that you can get up. It's far too early, Harry," Percival said in a gruff voice. The hand stilled but remained in place over the odd tattoo on Percival's neck that was freely on display while they were not at school. The arm that was wrapped over the top of Harry's shoulders pulled him closer.
"Back to Hogwarts tomorrow," Harry mumbled.
"Lucky you've done all your homework then isn't it, we can just take a break today."
"Harry!" Sirius pounded on the door, causing both boys to jump. Percival's wand snapped into his hand as he jumped forward and took guard in front of Harry.
The door was opened by a frantic Sirius, who gently pushed the wand that had been thrust into his face away, "While I appreciate your defence of my son, there's no time for that now. The alarms have just gone off on Grimmauld."
"But I thought you set the wards to their war setting?"
"Yep and the only person with a portkey in is Petunia."
"She's a squib!" Harry gasped.
"Yep, and Grimmauld place is about as friendly to squibs as it is to muggles, so I'm on the way there. Prepare a room for her to stay in, and get to the wardroom, I'll send a patronus if she is being followed."
"If she is, I hope those wards hold." Percival muttered.
"It'll be the biggest reveal in the history of London if they don't," Harry agreed.
"They have never fallen in the entire history of the Black family, I doubt they will now," Sirius said reassuringly.
"You're not going alone, are you?"
"Remus will come with me."
Harry frowned, "Sev …"
"Is my back up … just in case," he opened his arms and Harry step into them. "I needed someone I could trust to look after you."
"Don't be stupid this time," Harry implored.
"I won't. Alright. Remus!"
"Already at the floo!" the werewolf yelled back.
"What do we do?" Harry asked Percival, after his father had disappeared.
"What we were told. You prepare a room for your aunt and then go to the wardroom."
"What're you going to do?"
"I'll let Professor Snape and Seraphina know."
-o0o-
Albus stumbled as he apparated into his office, frustration causing him to raise his wand towards the window. He had meant to send a blast of pure light through it, but the stream of magic that exploded from his wand was a dull grey, it still smashed the glass, but the overshoot that normally would have burst over the grounds in a technicoloured array of light was dull and completely hidden by the cloudy sky. The effects were completely unsatisfying. With a growl he turned to his desk, slamming both hands against the wood.
His endeavour like his magic had been completely underwhelming. Despite being told that the Dursley's no longer resided there, he had initially made his way to Privet drive. Number four was now occupied by a disgustingly sweet family of four, whom he had obliviated immediately. He needed the house vacant to ensure that there was somewhere for his pawn to be taught what he needed to know. The neighbours had been only too happy to tell him about the goings on in number four. So, he now knew that Vernon and Petunia had separated, which had been quite the scandal. They did not know where Petunia was, but Vernon had moved in with his sister. They were all obliviated as well, it would not do for anyone to remember his visit and they needed to accept the family back into their fold.
Visiting Vernon was somewhat more productive as it had not even taken an Imperius to get the man to divulge that just two weeks ago he had met a guy at the local pub, who was down on his luck, and willing to follow Petunia for a measly hundred pounds and a Guinness. Even in his inebriated state, Vernon had thought that the man was just going to take off with the money, but surprisingly the shabbily dressed fellow had shown up two nights later with her address, hand outstretched for the second half of his payment. Then it was only a matter of a light compulsion charm to encourage Vernon to try and reconcile with his wife despite the now early hour.
Their arrival at Petunia's little flat was where things started to go wrong. Under the force of the charm, Vernon was able to approach the property, convinced that what he wanted was in Petunia's best interest. Albus though was another matter, he was stopped the moment he approached the ward line. A ward line that should not have been there. He broke through the wards just in time to see Vernon thrown bodily from the doorway as the ward retaliated when he tried to raise a hand against his wife, who had refused to return to him. Several heads were now peering out of their doors down the stairwell. They all disappeared inside again at his glare. Making a note to advise the Obliviators that they all needed to be dealt with, if the magical reversal squad were not notified by the breaking of the ward, he stomped up to the door.
Hearing a cry of "Now mum!" Albus pushed through into the living space just as the pair inside disappeared with a tinkle of glass.
Back in his tower, the headmaster seethed. He had not realised how far his pawn had slipped from his grasp. In the apartment he had found cards and even a Christmas present from Harry to his cousin and aunt. The nerve of the woman! After all he had done for her, she was now pandering to the brat. The other concern was which magical had helped her. Warding was outside the scope of the boy's abilities, if not him then who? Percival? Had he so misjudged the other's skill and magic? If only he had not been so hasty as the ward broke, he would have been able to get a sample of the magical resonance but being set up in a muggle area the wards were too light for the impression to last long with the means he knew to read them especially as he had had to overpower them, effectively replacing the signature with his own. Perhaps someone in the Department of Mysteries might be able help him?
A squark from behind alerted him to the owl flying through the unprotected window, with a sigh he noted it was from his protégé'. What could possibly be wrong now? Reaching out to take the missive the bird carried he barely noticed the black spot on the back of his hand.
-o0o-
Winky had eagerly volunteered to set up a room for Aunt Petunia. The little elf was delighted to have another person to care for, so Harry had grabbed both Grimoires and headed to the wardroom.
He leaned back and slid down the wall, shirt catching against the stones. Feeling the comforting watchfulness of the house as it muttered against those who would harm the family, seep through his skin. With a sigh, he allowed his confused feelings for Petunia and Dudley to be absorbed into the stones. His back warmed, and there was a gentle bump to the back of his head, making his eyes drift downwards towards the books in his lap.
"Alright I get the message," he murmured.
Flipping open the first page, he read the title on the top of the page: The Potterer.
As he watched the 'er' at the end separated from the rest and faded into the page leaving: The Potter behind. A black and white sketched picture of a man digging clay from a pit and filling a basket formed below the title. The image moved following the man as he carried the basket to a shed that leaned against the wall of a small home. Inside, a woman sat foot pressing on a peddle keeping a turn table spinning. As her hands gently shaped and moulded the clay she whispered, against all rules of physics the small amount of clay was shaped into a large ornate vase, which she cut from the wheel with a piece of string. Together the couple placed it on a board and moved it onto a shelf at the back of the room to dry. Next they cast spells that would help it to dry evenly without cracking and protect it against being bumped. Harry saw the shelves were packed with bowls and cups stored by size. The man then left the hut as the woman broke another piece of clay from the slab that rested on a small table by her chair.
Once again outside the man made his way to what appeared to be a large mound of earth, from which smoke was issuing. As the image approached, he could see a small metal sheet blocking a hole in the side of the mound. Casting a few spells, the man nodded satisfied at what they had told him. Two small children, raced towards him with happy grins on their faces. Catching the pair as they leapt at him, he swung them around, then carried them to the cabin. As the door shut behind them the image faded.
Words formed, written with strangely curled letters. With a blink Harry realised they were spells. Further examination revealed them to be the spells that the adults in the pictures had used. With a small smile, Harry vowed to try them out. There was another push on his back this time associated with a smug sensation, and the image of a small shed, attached to the side of Potter Manor appeared in his mind's eye.
-o0o-
Sirius stepped briskly out of the floo, wand in hand, he moved quickly to the side allowing Remus the space to follow.
"Argh!" a feminine voice squealed.
"It's alright mum!" the voice squeaked, a sure sign of a teenage boy. "I've got you."
Sirius and Remus moved quickly, towards the entrance hall, "Petunia?"
"Sirius!" she looked relieved to see him, face pale from her fright. "He was right outside the door, Vernon …"
"We need to get you out of here, this house doesn't like squibs. You can explain everything when we get home."
"Where's Harry?" Dudley asked looking around.
"At home," Remus said, moving closer to the teen, who backed away from the scarred man. "My name is Remus; I was a good friend of your aunt and uncle. Apparition or floo?" he asked Sirius.
"Best to Apparate, outside of the gate," Sirius said. "We'll need Harry to key them into the wards."
"Right. This won't be pleasant," Remus said grimly. "Think a supersonic Ferris wheel." He held out his arm towards Dudley, who glanced at his mother, and seeing her determinedly taking Sirius' arm, grabbed hold. They were whisked away in a blinding swirl of colours.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, Dudley released the arm he had been holding, and bent over as his body expelled, what felt like, every meal he had ever eaten. Petunia was coping no better. Sucking in deep breaths, he straightened slowly, the man standing next to him, passed him a glass of water, that he took gratefully. As his stomach settled, he was able to observe his surroundings. They had arrived at the side of the road, beside a wrought iron gate, which now swung open, revealing a house at some distance.
"Come on,' Sirius said cheerfully. "I'm sure Harry is waiting."
-o0o-
Harry opened his eyes, listening to the house as it grumbled at having to let Petunia and Dudley in.
"It's not for long," Harry reassured, as he stood. "I'll have the elves keep an eye on them, though I am sure that they will be on their best behaviour." He chuckled at the burst of feeling came back, the house it seemed was withholding judgement. "I know," Harry agreed. He moved to where he now knew the door would appear and stepped out into the hall to find Percival waiting a little way up the corridor.
"I take it they are here?"
"At the gates," Harry confirmed. "The manor isn't pleased about it either."
"No. Why is that?"
"I think it's feeding off me," Harry admitted sheepishly.
"You're not happy to have them here?"
"I … I'm not sure how I feel," Harry shrugged. "When you first arrived, it felt like they had changed, but I can't help wondering if that was just because you were there, or maybe it was the fright from the dementors. What if they haven't really changed at all?"
Percival waited, the silence accepting of whatever Harry wanted to say.
"They really hurt me; you know. When I was at school, I felt like there was nothing wrong with the way they treated me. Everyone else seemed to accept that I deserved it, so I did too. Meeting you and living with Sirius … you guys don't treat me like that. It's still hard sometimes but I can see now that I didn't do anything wrong. Ron's not treated that way, neither are the twins even when they've been right terrors. I ... didn't … I didn't deserve it!" he ended fiercely.
"No, you didn't. What they did was wrong," Percival agreed.
"I thought I'd forgiven them, but now I'm not so sure."
"That's okay," Percival's voice was soft.
"Maybe Aunt Petunia was afraid of what Vernon would do to her if she tried to stop him, but she was an adult, I was just a baby. And she wasn't innocent either, she used to try and hit me with the frying pan."
Percival stepped closer and wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy. "Do you feel I did the wrong thing?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Harry tipped his head to look at Percival's frown.
"By trying to explain things, by interfering. Should I have just taken you away from that house?"
Harry considered that for a moment, "I think you got me away from there as soon as was possible. We didn't know if they were the only dementors out there that night. So. I guess you just made the best of it. I doubt they would have tolerated me being in the house after Dudley had been attacked, if you hadn't."
"Hmmm, your aunt and cousin have been writing to you, does it seem like they have changed?"
"I think so, but maybe they're just trying to keep on my good side. After all who did they ask for help when Aunt Petunia was hurt? Who rescued them now? Who can protect them from magical people?"
"I don't know if they have changed or not Harry, all we can do is keep an eye on them."
"The manor agrees," Harry nodded, as they reached the entryway and the front door opened.
"Harry?" Dudley ducked around Remus, arms out as if he were going to hug Harry, then he stopped awkwardly. "Ah ..." His arms fell to his sides.
"Hey Dudley, Aunt Petunia," Harry nodded at them. "Would you like a cup of tea and maybe some breakfast?"
"Tea would be lovely," his aunt agreed.
A few minutes later they were sitting around the table, a simple breakfast of toast and eggs in front of them.
"What happened?" Sirius asked Petunia bluntly.
She shared a look with Dudley. In the end it was her son who put down his knife and fork and began to speak.
"All night last night, I felt like something bad was going to happen, and I didn't know what. We weren't able to sleep so we stayed up, close to that ball thingy that Sirius gave mum. About 2 o'clock, there was a knock at the door. It was Dad, even though we never told him the address. He tried to get mum to move back in with him. Said he was sorry, that he'd never meant to hurt her. He blamed Harry and the stress of being audited at work. Said that he'd changed, and that it wouldn't happen again. Mum said that if he'd truly changed, she would need to see evidence of it, before she considered going anywhere with him, and that it could wait until morning. It was funny, because he was insisting that we all move back to Privet Drive, even though it was sold ages ago. He said that we could move straight back in but she argued and he got angry. It was scary Harry, he raised his arm to punch her, but whatever Sirius did to protect us worked. It was like someone picked him up and threw him away from the house. Then there was a large bang, and a flash of light. I was looking at the gate, and I saw a man with a long beard. I didn't even think, I just grabbed mum and used the ball."
"Probably just as well." Sirius said satisfied with the story.
"How will I get to school?" Dudley asked in a small voice.
"I'll take you and drop you off," Sirius said. "We'll give you an emergency portkey, just in case that bearded chap turns up to your school. The school will have to manage if your father shows up though. It might be wise to let them know he turned up at your place."
"Yeah, I will. What about mum's work?"
"I would suggest that she calls in sick today until we can get something sorted out," Remus said practically. "I'm sure she'll need to go and collect a few things."
"I'm not rostered on till tomorrow, but I'll call and let them know I need a couple of days," Petunia said quietly. "I'll tell them I need to move again."
"Boys," Remus said looking to Harry and Percival. "You need to pack today and make sure all your homework is done."
"We only need to pack," Percival nodded. "Are you going to go and pack up the apartment today?"
Remus and Sirius shared a glance.
"It will depend on what Petunia wants." Sirius said in the end.
"Vernon stopped contacting me months ago. How did he even find us. He shouldn't know where we live!" Petunia worried.
"Maybe it was because of that old man," Dudley said.
"Old man?" Remus queried.
"Like I said," Dudley explained. "The old man with a really long beard!"
"It has to be Dumbledore," Remus said.
"Is there anything he hasn't got his hands in?" Sirius complained.
"But what could he possibly get out of this?"
"Control," Percival said flatly. "He's looking to get control of Harry. It's harder to control someone you have no access to."
"The man is delusional!" Sirius snorted.
"And will stop at nothing including muggle-baiting," Remus mused. "Odd when his political platform has always been the support of Muggleborns."
"It's all an act. I mean we knew that he wasn't as light as he pretends to be but, it is obvious that nothing was as it seemed. Who hasn't he manipulated? How long has this been going on? How far is he willing to go to get his hands on Harry?" He looked over to Percival, "If anything happens to me, you are to take Harry and head straight to Seraphina's apartment in New York. Take Severus too, if it is safe to delay that long, if not send him a message and he will join you as soon as he can."
"Hang on," Harry complained, "why aren't you telling me to get us out?"
"There is something about Percival," Sirius said shrewdly. "I … I just get the feeling that he's done this type of thing before."
A dusty snort had Percival's eyes flicking over Sirius' right shoulder at where Death was pulling faces. "Could it be that Black has some skill in premonition?" He moved beside Sirius, who shivered and peered into his ear. "Nope nothing in there, it was just a lucky guess!" Death laughed as he faded out of existence, allowing Percival to pay attention to the ongoing conversation.
"I'll head over later to check out if it is safe," Remus nodded. "If it is, I'll box everything up and bring it back here for the time being."
"And I'll call Sam and see about selling it," Sirius agreed. "Perhaps a small cottage might be better. That way it could be warded properly. Maybe the Fidelius."
"That won't work in the muggle world, Dad," Harry said. "It would be odd if a house just disappeared, but proper wards could be set up."
"Thank you," Petunia said quietly. "You don't have to."
"I think in spite of everything, mum would've wanted to keep you safe," Harry mumbled.
An awkward silence descended over the group until the meal was finished, and they all moved on with their day.
-o0o-
Harry stood from his place at the table saying, "I guess we'd better go; it's gone ten."
It had been decided that Reeb would pop the boys to platform nine and three quarters leaving Remus and Sirius to take care of Petunia and Dudley.
"Come here," Sirius moved to join him, arms out wide. Harry stepped in to take advantage of the offered hug.
"Don't be too lonely without us, old man."
"I wish," Sirius smiled. "Don't you worry, I'll have plenty to keep me occupied."
"What about Remus?" he glanced at the blonde.
"I have lots to do," the werewolf offered a hug that was also accepted.
"What?" Harry queried.
"Well, there is one of the clans I want to go back and check on. Then we really need to figure out what the last few horcruxes are and where they could be. If that isn't enough, we need to figure out what we are going to do about Dumbledore."
"Alright." Harry nodded.
"And before ya ask," Moody said. Harry jumped at the man's suddenly appearance. "I'll be helpin' Remus and checkin' with Amelia
"But," Harry turned back to Remus, "You'll stay out of Dumbledore's way right?"
"Of course, pup."
"Just remember to go to Severus if something is wrong. I would bet my entire record collection that Dumbledore will call you for your next lesson as soon as you get back."
"Argh," Harry groaned.
"Maybe I should come in my animagus form," Percival suggested.
"Yeah, I can just imagine, and if they do something we don't like, you could eat them!"
"Ewww. I think Dumbledore would be rather sour with all the sherbet lemons he eats." Percival wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Try the cloak," Sirius suggested.
"But I think he can see through it," Harry said.
"Didn't you say that the one you were using wasn't the real one? Unless he saw us disappear under it or we didn't cover our feet properly I don't think he ever knew we were about when we used it at school." Remus advised.
Harry nodded his head, he had not thought that the real Potter cloak would be different to a normal invisibility cloak, but if what Remus said was true then it was worth a shot.
Percival nodded, "We'll give it a try. I know a couple of detection spells, and Harry should probably learn the disillusionment charm as well."
"I just don't want you to get hurt. I can't imagine how angry he'd be if he found you in there."
"Well, the first time we try it, we'll let Severus know so that he can come and interrupt. Sneaking into a meeting isn't an expellable offence, especially not if I say I was just following you to make sure that you don't end up in the hospital wing again like you did last time. The most I'll get is detention."
"Ok."
"Right lads," Alastor Moody, wrapped his arms around Harry gruffly. "Remember constant vigilance!" he barked as he moved back and reached out to ruffle Harry's hair. "And you," he looked Percival in the eye, "keep an eye on him. I'd swear trouble is his middle name."
"I will," Percival promised.
"Good!" Moody huffed. "Well get along then, you don't want to be late!"
"Reeb!" The little elf popped into existence, glanced at both boys silently checking they had everything, then nodded to the adults and popped out of the room.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'm gonna miss those boys," Moody flopped into one of the chairs at the table.
-o0o-
"Baubles" Harry said confidently, as he and Percival approached the Fat Lady, who was looking rather paler than usual, and winced at the sound of his voice.
"No," she said.
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I mean there is a new password," she said. "And please don't shout."
The hallway was filling up with the students off the Hogwarts Express.
"But we've been away," complained Romilda Vane who had wandered up behind them. "How're we supposed to -?"
"Move out of the way!" a nasal voice, drifted over the crowd, causing the Fat Lady to wince. "Harry!"
Hermione was pushing her way through the gathered students, very pink faced and wearing a cloak, hat and gloves.
"I got back a couple of hours ago, Professor Dumbledore had to pick me up," she said importantly. "Did you have a good Christmas?"
They stared at her as though she had grown two heads.
"Our Christmas was fine, thanks for asking," Harry said stiffly.
"Oh, I've got something for you, Harry," she smiled, not giving any sign of Percival's existence, then began sticking her hands into her pockets.
"Perhaps you could tell us the password," Harry said in annoyance. "Some of us have better things to do then stand about in the hall."
"Oh, right–" she giggled. "Abstinence."
"Precisely," said the Fat Lady in a feeble voice, and swung forwards to reveal the portrait hole.
"She overindulged during Christmas, apparently," gossiped Hermione, as she led the way into the common room. "I heard that she and her friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of the drunk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway …"
She finally found the right pocket and pulled out a scroll of parchment with Dumbledore's writing on it.
"Great," Harry muttered, beginning to unroll it.
"Harry," Hermione hissed, she lifted her hand to smack him, but thought better of it as Percival moved to intercept her. "You can't look at it here. People might see," she exaggeratedly flicked her eyes towards Percival.
Harry shrugged and shoved the roll into the front of his bag.
"I have heaps to tell you. Let's sit down," Hermione made to grab hold of Harry, but he jerked his arm away before she could. A loud squeal of 'Won-Won!' from behind them caused Harry to turn in time to see Lavender Brown hurling herself into Ron's arms. Several onlookers sniggered; Hermione gave a tinkling laugh and said, "There's a table over here …"
"I don't know what happened over the holidays to make you think we're friends Granger," Harry said bluntly. "But we're not. We'll find our own table thanks."
He turned on his heel and walked straight up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, to fall onto his bed with a groan.
"Come on it's not that bad," Percival grinned at his dramatics.
"Yeah, well she was ignoring you!"
"I'm not sure how I got that lucky, but I'll take it while I can," Percival said with a laugh. "What was that with Ron and Lavender?"
"He said they'd been writing over the break," Harry closed his eyes, relaxing into the mattress. "He was going to ask her to Hogsmeade. At a guess, she said yes."
-o0o-
The next morning the sixth years were pleasantly surprised by a large notice that had been pinned to the common room notice board overnight.
APPARITION LESSONS
It you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen
On or before the 31st of August, you are eligible for a twelve-week
course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor.
Please sign below if you would like to participate.
Cost: 12 Galleons.
Harry and Ron joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and taking turns in writing their names underneath. Ron was just taking out his quill to sign after Harry when Lavender crept up behind him, slipped her hands over his eyes and trilled, "Guess who, Won-Won?"
Harry laughingly made his way past the pair to join Percival on the other side of the common room.
"You can Apparate already?" Harry stated more than asked.
Percival nodded, "They should have tests over the spring holidays, so I'll get my British license then."
"I think I might have done it before," Harry said thoughtfully. "Dudley was chasing me one day and I ended up on the roof of one of the school buildings. I got in so much trouble."
"It should be easy for you then, just concentrate on that same feeling."
They watched as Hermione burst out of the cluster of sixth years to hurry out of the portrait hole. She seemed to be following Neville. Harry vaguely wondered if he should try and warn his godbrother but could not think of a way to do so. Resigning himself to having to apologise later, he grabbed Percival's hand and tugged him to follow the pair.
Ron and Lavender caught up to them a little way beyond the portrait hole. Ron's ears were bright red, and his expression was slightly disgruntled.
"So – Apparition," the red-head said, his tone making it perfectly plain that they were not to mention what had just happened. "Should be a laugh, eh?"
Harry turned and raised his eyebrows, questioningly at Ron. "I can't say I've enjoyed any of the times, I've travelled that way."
"Oh, yeah," Ron nodded remembering the time they had been Apparated to Platform nine and three-quarters. "Still I'd better pass my test first time," Ron said, looking anxious. "Fred and George did."
"What about the others?" Lavender asked.
Ron thought for a moment. "Charlie didn't, but Charlie's bigger than me so Fred and George didn't tease him about it much … not to his face anyway."
"At least you don't have to wait long to test. And if you don't pass the first time there'll be another chance, before schools out for summer. Poor Harry can't even have a go until the holidays."
"Not the point is it. They'll still know I didn't get it the first time," he said glumly.
It seemed that the upcoming lessons were all that was talked about that day.
"How cool will it be when we can just–" Seamus clicked his fingers to indicate disappearance. "Me cousin Fergus does it just to annoy me, you wait till I can do it back … he'll never have a peaceful moment …"
Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of that day's Charms lesson, he let out a hose like jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face.
"Harry's already …" Harry stopped Ron from saying anymore to a slightly abashed Seamus, by stepping on his foot.
"What was it like?" Seamus demanded, as he, Dean and Neville put their heads closer to hear what Apparition felt like.
Harry glared at a smirking Percival every time another person beseeched him to describe the sensation. All seemed awed, rather than put off, when he told them how uncomfortable it was, and he was still answering detailed questions at ten to eight that evening when he needed to make excuses so that he would make it to the Headmaster's office in time.
"Look, I've got to go return this book to the library," He firmly told Fay Dunbar. "But Ron has some experience with Apparition too, so maybe you should ask him." With a vicious grin, he fled the common room, meeting an invisible Percival in the corridor just outside.
-o0o-
The lamps in Dumbledore's office were lit, the portraits gently snoring in their frames and the Pensieve was waiting upon the desk once more. Hermione was already ensconced in a chair in front of the desk.
"Headmaster," Harry started diffidently, "Isn't there a rule about you not meeting students alone? Shouldn't we have a professor here with us?"
"Oh my boy!" Dumbledore chuckled. "That rule is for a single student; you are here with Hermione. Neither of you are alone." If he had not been expecting it, Percival would not have noticed the compulsion that the headmaster cast under the table, nor the spell from the other occupant in the room. Harry's eyes glazed over, then he shook his head and blinked slowly.
"Riiiight," he mumbled, even though it appeared that Harry had fought the compulsion off, Percival leaned close to Harry so that when he slipped the tip of his wand between the folds of the cloak it rested directly against the other boy and cast a silent 'Finite'.
The headmaster reached out to push the Pensieve towards his students, exposing a black mark the size of a penny on the back of the headmaster's left hand.
"What happened to your hand, headmaster?" Hermione asked in concern as she stared at his hand.
Dumbledore briefly looked at the spot before seeming to dismiss it as unimportant, "A slight injury Hermione, nothing to fret over. Now I must insist we press on. I have important things to discuss with you this evening." He paused as if expecting Harry to make some comment or protest. But the boy stayed silent, so Dumbledore continued. "I have two memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think the most important I have collected. We shall now continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how he was so excited to hear that he was a wizard that he refused my company on a trip to Diagon Alley and that I, in turn warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school. Well, the start of school arrived and with it came Tom Riddle a quiet boy in his second-hand robes, who lined up with the other first-years to be Sorted."
Dumbledore paused, glanced at the pair in front of him and said gravely, "He was placed in Slytherin House almost the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head," he waved a hand towards the shelf on which the aforementioned article sat silent and unmoving. "How soon Riddle learned that the famous founder could also talk to snakes I do not know- perhaps that very evening! The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his sense of self-importance."
Percival had to suppress a snort at the ridiculously serious tone that the old man had taken as he sprouted this hypocrisy, and he hoped that Harry would be able to keep a straight face. The headmaster continued.
"However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff. He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all."
Harry made a noise.
"Yes?" Dumbledore raised his twinkling eyes.
"If he was not aggressive at all, why would he go on to become what he did? What changed?"
"Oh, I didn't say he wasn't aggressive, just that he showed no signs of it, but …"
"That's biased then, isn't it?" Harry challenged. "You made the assumption that he was evil so that is how you treated him. What if you had shown him kindness instead, helped him?"
"He had enough help," Dumbledore said sternly. "As an unusually talented and very good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival. They thought he seemed polite, quiet, and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were most favourable impressed by him."
"Didn't you tell them, sir, what he'd been like when you met him at the orphanage?" asked Hermione.
"No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse," Dumbledore tipped his head slightly as if considering, before saying dubiously, "it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance."
They were interrupted as Harry suddenly coughed, his face red. Percival thought he might have been laughing. Dumbledore paused looking enquiringly at Harry. Who just shook his head.
"Sorry, inhaled some spit!" he gasped out.
"But you didn't really trust him, did you?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry as if he smelled disgusting.
"Let's just say," Dumbledore nodded at her approvingly, "that I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy. I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye upon him, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I gleaned a great deal from my observations at first. He was very guarded with me: he felt, I am sure that in the thrill of discovering his true identity that he had told me a little too much. He had the sense never to try and charm me as he charmed so many of my colleagues."
"You're saying that as if he put a spell on them," Harry said, the headmaster looked grimly pleased, and Hermione gasped. "Do you mean to say, you believe that a muggle raised eleven-year-old was both knowledgeable and powerful enough to spell every teacher in Hogwarts, baring yourself, of course," he could not quite suppress the sarcastic lilt in his voice.
"His infatuation with the esoteric, started the moment he learned his true heritage," Dumbledore nodded sadly.
"Where would he find such spells? And how did he find that out as a first year? He was in Slytherin, most of them were pure-blooded bigots, and would not have talked to a Muggle-born student!"
"They were afraid of him, Harry." Dumbledore murmured.
"He was eleven!" Harry protested.
"And yet you saw how he tried to sway me at the orphanage, yes? The amount of control he had over his magic, without any training at all, was …" Dumbledore sounded more admiring than anything else, "concerning. But we digress. As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends: I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for them. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking shared glory and the thuggish, gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts. They were never found in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never linked, the most serious of which was the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl, and the expulsion of Hagrid."
Harry frowned as he considered that.
"I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, placing his injured hand on the Pensieve. "Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are still too terrified. What I know I found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort and searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witness alike."
The creases in Harry's forehead deepened, why not use Dumbledores own memories? How had he come to the conclusion that Riddle's group had caused the issues when there was no evidence? And of course, a child who had been alienated as Riddle had in the orphanage would have difficulties making friends, you only had to look at Harry himself to understand that. "But you were there, then," Harry protested, "you taught him."
"He was extremely careful not to do anything around me," Dumbledore explained as if telling a child they could not have any sweets, or it would spoil its dinner. "Those whom I could persuade to talk, told me Riddle was obsessed with his parentage. It seems he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle Senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in books of wizarding history. Finally, he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he assumed the name Voldemort and began his investigations into his previously despised mother's family- the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death."
Harry watched as Dumbledore shook out his left hand as if it pained him.
"In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives. And now, if you both will stand …"
Dumbledore rose, and Harry saw that he was again holding a small crystal bottle filled with swirling, pearly memory.
"I was lucky to collect this," he said as he poured the gleaming mass into the Pensieve. "As you will understand, when we have experienced it. Shall we?"
Percival watched as Harry stepped up to the stone basin and bowed obediently until his face sank through the surface of the memory and so saw Dumbledore indicate for Hermione to cast a spell at Harry's bent form.
"Quickly now," the old man hurried her into the Pensieve, glanced around the room then joined his student.
Stomach roiling, Percival watched as they emersed their faces in the memories. When they had been discussing his presence in the meeting, they had briefly considered if he should join them in the Pensieve. In the end their lack of knowledge of how Harry's Cloak would react, the lack of space around the basin and the fact that he could better protect Harry's body from outside had decided them. Though the not unwarranted concern that Dumbledore and his stooge might cast spells on Harry inside the memory had Percival hastily reviewing, every detection and cancelling spell he knew before they entered the room, and he was prepared to cast as many of them as required to ensure that Harry was free of any spells that might have been cast upon him.
Percival stepped closer to Harry's unprotected back and cast the first of the detection spells, pausing to look around at the portraits, when his worry led to it being overpowered. Hopefully they were all as asleep as they seemed and had not noticed the flash of light.
-o0o-
It took Harry several seconds to recognise that they were again at the Gaunt shack. The only light came from a single candle placed at the feet of a man with hair and beard so overgrown Harry could see neither eyes, nor mouth. He slumped in the armchair by the fire, and Harry wondered for a moment whether he was dead. But then there came a loud knock on the door and the man jerked awake, raising a wand in his right hand, and a short knife in his left.
The door creaked open. There on the threshold, holding an old-fashioned lamp, stood a boy the watchers recognised at once: tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome- the teenage Tom Riddle.
Voldemort's eyes moved slowly around the hovel and then found the man in the armchair. For a few seconds they looked at each other, then the man staggered upright, the many empty bottles at his feet clattering and tinkling across the floor.
"YOU!" he bellowed. "YOU."
And he hurtled drunkenly at Riddle, wand and knife held aloft.
"Stop," Riddle spoke in Parseltongue. The man skidded into the table, sending mouldy pots crashing to the floor. He stared at Riddle. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other. The man broke it.
"You speak it?"
"Yes, I speak it," said Riddle. He moved forwards into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. "Where is Marvolo?" he asked.
"Dead," said the other. "Died years ago, didn''t he?"
Riddle frowned. "Who are you then?"
"I'm Morfin, ain't I?"
"Marvolo's son?"
"Course I am, then …"
Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, the better to see Riddle, and Harry saw he wore Marvolo's black-stoned ring on his right hand.
"I thought you was Muggle," whispered Morfin. "You look mighty like that Muggle."
"What Muggle?" said Riddle sharply.
"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way," said Morfin, and he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. "You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, I'n'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it …"
Morfin looked slight dazed and swayed a little, still clutching the edge of the table for support.
"He came back, see," he added stupidly.
Voldemort was gazing at Morfin, as though appraising his possibilities. Now he moved a little closer and said, "Riddle came back?"
"Ar' he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!" said Morfin spitting on the floor again. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherins locket?"
Voldemort did not answer. Morfin was working himself into a rage again; he brandished his knife and shouted, "Dishonoured us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit … it's over …"
He looked away, staggering slightly, and Voldemort moved forwards. As he did so, an unusual darkness fell, extinguishing Voldemort's lamp and Morfin's candle. Dumbledore's fingers closed like a lamp around Harry's arm, and they soared back to the present. Where he could feel the reassuring warmth of Percival's hand resting on the small of his back, blanketed by the reassuring sensation of the Cloak.
-o0o-
It was nearly an hour after they had entered the memory before the trio moved. The first sign their imminent re-emergence was a wizened hand rising from the edge of the Pensieve, and gripping onto Harry's forearm, like a vice. Harry raised his head with a gasp. Percival stepped in to end any spells that might have been cast while they were watching the memory.
"Why did the memory go black?" Hermione asked.
"Because Morfin could not remember anything from that point after," said Dumbledore gesturing for them to return to their seats. Percival backed quickly out of Harry's path. "When he awoke, he was lying on the floor, Marvolo's ring gone. And in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the high street screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room, of the big house on the hill. While the Muggles had no clues, the Aurors realised at once it was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived just across the valley. So the Ministry called upon Morfin and he admitted to the murder on the spot, handing over his wand which was found to have cast the killing curse. He did not fight them when they took him away to Azkaban, where he lived out the remainder of his life."
"So Voldemort, stole Morfin's wand and used it?" Hermione asked, back straight, and eager eyes gleaming.
"Or someone Imperio'd him into doing it."
"We have no memories to show us this, but I think we can be fairly confident that Voldemort stupefied his uncle, took his wand, and proceeded across the valley. There he murdered the Muggle family who abandoned him, thus obliterating the last of the unworthy Riddle line. Then he returned to the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in his uncle's mind, laid Morfin's wand beside its unconscious owner, pocket the ancient ring he wore and departed."
"But if he was Obliviated, how do you know what happened? How did you get these memories?" Harry asked.
"Ah, I did not say he had been Obliviated, just that a false memory had been placed over the original. The original was still there, and I managed to secure a visit while he was in Azkaban. A skilled Legilimens, such as myself, can retrieve hidden memories if they know how." Hermione looked impressed.
"Then how didn't the Ministry know that Riddle had done it all? And what about the detection of underage magic?" Harry protested.
"Like I said, it would have taken someone skilled in Legilimency and as Morfin was boasting his guilt, they had no need to look further. Needless to say, once I found out I tried to secure his release, however the deliberations took so long that poor Morfin had died before the Ministry had reached their decisions. You're quite right the Ministry can detect magic when it is cast, but not who cast it, such as occurred in your second year."
"So, if you are underage and do magic inside the house of an adult witch or wizard, the Ministry won't know?"
"They will certainly be unable to tell who cast the spells. They rely on the parents to enforce their offspring's obedience while within the home."
"That's rubbish!" Hermione protested. "No wonder Muggleborns are so far behind. The pure-bloods and half-bloods are practicing magic before they get to school."
"I agree," said Dumbledore. "But there is little we can do at this time, with the ministry the way that it is. Now, it is getting late, and I want you to see this other memory before we part …"
Dumbledore took from an inside pocket another crystal phial as the two students watched, remembering that Dumbledore had said it was the most important one he had collected. Harry noticed that the contents proved difficult to empty into the Pensieve, as though they were congealed slightly.
"This will not take long," said Dumbledore, when the phial was finally empty.
Percival waited patiently for them to re-emerge.
As the three gathered around the Pensieve stretched, Dumbledore said, "Well that's that."
"That's all there is?" Hermione asked. "But it only showed a conversation Voldemort and Professor Slughorn. It wasn't even that long!"
The headmaster had said that it was the most important memory, but she could not see why.
"As you may have noticed," Dumbledore said, reseating himself behind his desk, "That memory has been tampered with."
"The fog," Harry said softly.
"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."
"But why would he do?" demanded Hermione.
"Because, I think, he is ashamed of what happened," said Dumbledore. "He tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. And so, for the first time I am giving you homework. You need to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the true memory, which will be the most crucial information of all."
"But surely you could use Veritaserum or Legilimency …" Hermione started.
"Professor Slughorn is an extremely able wizard, who will be expecting both," Dumbledore looked at them over steepled fingers. "I think it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from him by force." His voice held a warning in it that Harry assumed was for Hermione. "However, he has his weaknesses like the rest of us and I believe that between the pair of you, you might just have what it takes to be able to secure the memory. So good luck … and good night."
Harry surged to his feet, his chair narrowly missing Percival's toes as it was pushed back. He waited for Hermione to proceed him through the door.
"We'll need to work together to get that memory, Harry," Hermione said firmly, once they were in the corridor.
"I'm sure we can work on our own Granger," Harry replied.
"But Professor Dumbledore said that …"
"He wants the memory, he doesn't care how he gets it," Harry shrugged.
"I bet I can get it before you!"
Harry smiled, sharply, "I'm sure you can. I'm not that keen to be honest. Dumbledore has already put Slughorn through enough, don't you think?"
"Professor Slughorn!" hissed Hermione.
Harry just shrugged nonchalantly. "Seeya." Then he stepped sideways into a passage that would lead him directly to the dungeons. Percival had moved inside and left the door slightly ajar when Harry had stopped in front of it.
"Colloportus," Harry applied a locking charm, and Percival followed it with several of his own. They heard Hermione bashing on the other side of the door.
"Standstill!" Percival said, it was difficult for him to raise his wand in the confined space, but he managed it well enough to ensure that Harry was cleared of all the spells that had been cast on him.
"Are we still going to see Severus?"
"Just to be sure," Percival nodded. "He stuck his head in about halfway through the first memory, once he saw that everything was all good, he left again."
"Alright. Is there any way to check who messed with the memories?" Harry wondered.
"I don't think so," Percival shook his head, "Though Severus would know better."
"It's Professor Snape!" Harry said in a high-pitched nasal voice, causing them both to laugh.
"Yeah, him. Why do you ask?"
"Well, was it Slughorn who tampered with them, or could it have been Dumbledore?"
"Come on let's go see Severus," Percival dragged Harry away from the still rattling door and down towards the dungeons.
-o0o-
Amelia slammed her fist on the table in frustration. "I've used the compass, and I know that it is in there! But the blasted Goblins won't let me in because the vault is not mine. At this rate, we will have to break into it."
"Were you able to figure out which vault?"
"Not exactly but it's to the left of the Bones' family vault."
"Sirius?" Remus called drawing the man into the room.
"Do you know how close your vault is the Bones'"
"I'm several in from there. I ran into Edgar down there once."
"Apparently Riddle's Horcrux is left of the Bones'."
"That makes sense. Regulus' was immediately next door to mine, then Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella, then Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Draco's should be the closest to Amelia's, I would think."
"We can rule out Andromeda and Draco. Bellatrix would have inherited Uncle Cygnus's when Aunt Druella died."
"Does Narcissa still have one there, or was it subsumed by Lucius when they married?" Remus asked.
"Black holds primacy so she would have kept her own, unless they specifically asked for them to be merged."
"Well we know Lucius had the diary, so it is unlikely Riddle would have given him two."
"Probably, but don't rule it out altogether, the man is mad."
"And he had Regulus' help with the locket, I think it would have to be in Bellatrix's vault," Remus said thoughtfully.
"It's the most likely," Amelia agreed. "Can you get into it as Lord Black?"
Sirius frowned, "I don't know. I have no right of access, I know that much, it's the only way I got to keep my own vault, when I was disowned by my mother."
"Well, I don't see how we can legally get in there, Dirk told me rather bluntly that the Goblins would not let me into any vault not my own, especially as a representative of the ministry, it was part of the accords signed after the last Goblin rebellion."
"Well, I guess we will have to start trying to figure out another way in," Sirius said with a grin.
"Which is something I can't condone," Amelia said. "What I was going to suggest was that we keep the bank under surveillance, if they move the Horcrux we will have a better chance of getting our hands on it."
"And we expand the search for the ritual to include drawing the soul pieces from distant locations," Remus added.
With a frown Sirius said, "I'll write to Seraphina, but to be honest, I think that might be stretching how far rituals can go."
"Yeah, well we've got to try," Remus shrugged. "I can't really see how we could break into the bank."
"Well, if we're done here, I'd better go," Amelia stood. "I'll see you sometime next week, owl me if you think of anything else."
They waved at her as she disappeared through the floo.
Sirius dropped his head onto the table with a soft thud.
"It wasn't what I wanted to hear either," Remus groaned. "Tea?"
"Please," Sirius rolled his head to the side to see Marlene standing in the doorway.
"Is this a private pity party or can anyone join?" she asked lightly.
"Everyone's welcome," Remus smiled.
"Amelia gone already?"
"Not much to talk about, this time, unfortunately."
"You sure I can't help?"
"How are those occlumency barriers coming?" Sirius asked pointedly.
"Not great, but I don't go anywhere or see anyone so I don't see how it matters?"
As Remus opened his mouth to speak, Sirius glared at him, "It's my son's safety and until your Occlumency is solid, I'm sorry but I'm not willing to risk it. Besides you used to be great at it, so what's taking so long?"
"The missing memories seem to have left holes and I can't seem to cover them no matter what I do," she said quietly.
"I'm sure there's something …" Remus started.
"There's really not. Don't push this Remus," Sirius said firmly, standing. "I'm going to call Harry he should be done with Dumbledore by now then I'm off to bed. Night."
"Night Padfoot," Remus said subdued.
Arms crossed over her chest; Marlene watched him go. "Now that he's gone tell me everything," she demanded.
With a shake of his head, Remus replied, "No it's his call and he's probably right."
"It's funny, he used to take all the risks."
"Yeah, being responsible for Harry really changed him."
"What about you?" she slid into the seat next to where the werewolf had placed the tea service and began preparing two cups.
"We both made a lot of mistakes, and it's taken a good while to build up Harry's trust in us. Harry was particularly upset with me," he looked down into the brown liquid.
"He's forgiven you, hasn't he?" she placed a gentle hand on his forearm, taking care not to spill his tea.
"Yeah, he's like James that way. What brings you out at this hour? I thought you went to bed a while ago."
"Nightmares," she shrugged.
"Want to talk about them?"
"Same old, same old. That last fight, the spellfire and flames." She leaned in as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Do you think you can sleep now? Or do you need something stronger?"
"Something stronger wouldn't go amiss," she nodded. "I might pop out tomorrow to see if I can catch up with some of the guys who escaped the fire." She flicked her wand sending her empty cup over to the sink.
"Did you want company?"
"Then or now?" she smiled coquettishly.
"Both?" Remus smiled back.
-o0o-
"You're clear," Severus nodded. "You did well Percival."
"Good," Harry nodded in satisfaction. "So, it looks like it should work again next time."
"Yes, and I feel better knowing that someone is with you. Though you will have to be careful, and if for any reason Percival cannot be there, you will let me know so that I can make suitable arrangements."
"Yes, Dad," Harry said automatically. "Ah …" he froze, eyes wide, face pale. From beside him Percival snorted.
A slight twist to Severus' lips showed that he was more amused then annoyed. "What did the memories show?"
"I'm not sure either was real," Harry admitted. "The first was a conversation between Morfin Gaunt and Tom Riddle. It seemed to show their first interaction with Morfin telling Riddle who his father was, and Dumbledore said afterwards that Riddle went and killed his father and grandparents after that. The second showed Riddle trying to get information about Horcruxes from Professor Slughorn, but it had been altered by Slughorn. So, he wants us to try and get the original memory from him, before we do anything else."
"You don't think it was Slughorn?"
"Well can you alter memories after they have been taken?"
That caused them to pause, "Not in a way that you would be unable to tell."
"It was really obvious, there was all this fog."
"But consider that they could have also been altered before they were taken."
"That's what Dumbledore said had happened to Morfin, but he said that the original memory was still there. He also said that Slughorn was an 'extremely able wizard, who will be expecting both and that was the reason that he could not just get the memories with either Veritaserum or Legilimency."
"Above all else Slughorn is a cautious wizard, while he is not strong, he definitely would have some skill at Occlumency," Snape mused. "However, why would he expect Dumbledore, whom he considers a friend, to potion him or attack his mind?"
"Because it's happened before," the investigator in Graves agreed.
"So how do we convince him to give me the original memory?" Harry queried. "Do we even need it? Can I just pretend to try and then fail?"
"Because it would be good to know what Riddle knows about Horcruxes and it would be good to know how far Dumbledore has fallen," Percival replied quietly. "This could be part of the evidence against him that we need."
"It is not admissible in court," Severus said.
"Is it not?" Percival asked in surprise. "I'm sure that …"
"This is not America."
"I know," the older of the two boys groaned. "Still, it would be helpful to know what questions to ask him under Veritaserum."
"What about the potion you created Sev, could we use that?"
"I am unsure, so far it has only been used to retrieve memories that have been erased. I am not sure what the effects would be if the memories have been replaced. Perhaps the person would recall both? That could be deeply disturbing. It is a possibility that it could help or perhaps be adapted, I would need time to adjust it."
"Well, I'll start by trying to get the memory from Slughorn and then we can give him the potion later if it works out."
A knock on disturbed them.
"Leave by the other door," Severus ordered. At the quizzical looks he continued, "Mr Malfoy has finished his detention. Now straight back to the Common room, no stops."
"Night Sev."
-o0o-
Cut-
Draco cursed Severus Snape under his breath placing yet another cauldron into the sink in front of him. As he picked up the scrubbing brush in a water wrinkled hand, he contemplated his situation. He had never considered that Snape would actually make him do the detentions he had assigned as punishment for gate-crashing Slughorn's party before Yule. He was a Slytherin after all, and Snape's favourite, being, in his own opinion, the best in his year at potions.
What sort of detention was this anyway? Washing cauldrons by hand, was squibs work! He could have been doing his homework like he normally had to when given detention. And where was Snape anyway, the man usually sat at his desk doing his marking, which was handy when Draco had questions about the work he was completing. But today he had merely given Draco his instructions, confiscated his wand and disappeared back into his office!
The frustration had not improved his temper any. He had spent the entire holidays avoiding his mother's over-protective hovering, after informing her that he felt that the Dark Lord had the right of the situation. Her veiled comments, when she managed to catch him, led him to believe that she had been trying to secure an escape path for him, no doubt through Snape the traitor. While superficially she acknowledged that Muggleborns were the bane of all that was magical, her lack of faith in his ability to perform the task he had been given was infuriating.
Then he had needed to explain his lack of success in bringing about the demise of Albus Dumbledore to his Lord, which had been a most painful experience. Ignoring his mother's unspoken protests Draco had promised that he would succeed before the end of the year. In doing so he would bring the Malfoys back from the abyss and elevate them to the Dark Lord's most favoured, in a way they had not been since his Grandfather Abraxas had been alive.
It was an odd fact of life at the manor that the Dark Lord insisted that everyone should be present for both breakfast and dinner. Whether it was a misgotten habit from his childhood, he just liked an audience as he ranted, or perhaps he liked making all of the inhabitants uncomfortable no one knew. It was during one of these tirades that Draco learnt the hither to unknown fact that Severus Snape was a spy. Once it was presented though, he wondered how he had ever missed it. The little factoid bounced around his head as he scrubbed the cauldron. Until his mind settled on a new truth, bringing down the headmaster would elevate his family's status. Then he wondered how honoured they would be if he bought down Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.
Finally, he'd had enough, and he threw the scrubbing brush into the cauldron with a clang, not even bothering to return everything to its proper place, he sneered as he moved towards the office door.