Chapter 29 – Grim Old Places, Old New Faces
New Year's Eve came, and with it, the anticipation of leaving for the wizarding world once again. Harry had done all of his homework, keen to get it all put behind him so that he could chill out for the remainder of the holiday. That had taken right up until New Year's Eve morning, but it was done, and that was what mattered. After that it was a mad rush to get everything packed away and stored safely, since many of Harry's things had migrated to various parts of the house.
Clothes mostly, but some books – mainly those which were fine for Marge to see. But there were still bits and pieces scattered around that needed to be dealt with, especially as Harry didn't want to leave anything behind. He didn't quite trust the muggle postal service to get anything magical to him at Hogwarts – even though he knew there were processes in place to get errant bits of magical mail to where it needed to be, Harry didn't trust the Ministry not to interfere with his post specifically.
He sent Agrippa off to Sirius's house mid-morning. No sense keeping the owl at Privet Drive when he could be out, stretching his wings, and there was no point subjecting him to side-along apparition either. Not when he had wings and could fly.
Marge had been informed that Harry was being picked up by his 'uncle Dave' to attend a New Year's Eve party. An easy enough lie since it was only partially a lie. Dudley had been a little put out by the fact that Harry got to escape from extended and prolonged 'family time' at the very end of the Christmas holiday, but Harry didn't mind. With Harry gone it was likely Petunia would allow Dudley to go upstairs with his PlayStation, anyway, so it would work out well for the both of them.
Harry wasn't due to be picked up until the early evening, which wasn't too surprising although it did mean a bit of waiting around doing nothing. He watched Dudley play games on his PlayStation for a little while, more just so he knew something about PlayStation games than out of any interest, but that grew boring quite quickly since Dudley didn't even offer him a go. Not that Harry had any idea how to play.
But that meant Harry had to find something else to do, and as he'd packed away all of his things in anticipation of leaving, there weren't very many options left.
Which meant Harry found himself sitting around doing nothing in the living room.
Waiting around doing nothing with Marge, since she wasn't going anywhere. At least Vernon was there to provide a distraction, as the two of them were fond of 'putting the world to rights', which as far as Harry could tell meant making increasingly mean-spirited comments about various different groups of people.
Unpleasant, but as Vernon only really engaged in that kind of talk when Marge was around, Harry felt it was bearable. At least until Sirius arrived to collect him, anyway. If Petunia had been there she would have tried to moderate the tone of the conversation, but as she was cooking the traditional New Year's buffet in the kitchen, Marge was left to her own devices.
"…the Colonel was saying just before Christmas, actually," Marge said, "that he was thinking about standing for our seat. Tory, of course—not a Labour man, the Colonel, heavens no—and I thought that was a cracking idea. But it reminded me—didn't you have aspirations there, Vernon?"
"Oh, I… well," Vernon said. "I did, for a bit. Was going to put myself forward for it but there's a bit of…" He paused. Glanced over at Harry. "It's a lot of attention on you, you know, and the family. We just thought—Pet and me—it wasn't worth the hassle. Maybe in a few years when things have calmed down a bit."
That Vernon had had political aspirations was something Harry hadn't really known. It made a strange sort of sense, as Vernon was a member of the Conservative Party and occasionally went to constituency meetings. One of his few hobbies. That he hadn't actually stood was probably down to Harry being a wizard. Too much scrutiny indeed.
"Well, the Colonel thinks Major's on the way out," Marge continued, "so perhaps you made the right choice after all. Awful for the country if Labour gets in. Disaster. But then they say this Blair fellow's going…"
Harry tuned them out. Muggle politics was not something Harry had any interest in – and he lacked the proper knowledge and context to develop one. He had enough to worry about with the wizarding government and its seemingly infinite well of ineptitude that muggle politics seemed so uneventful there wasn't any point learning about it.
"I'm going to get some water," Harry said, standing up. Neither Marge nor Vernon responded, having gone deeper into their discussion – complaints – about the current government. As Harry walked through the corridor to the kitchen there was a loud knock at the door.
"I'll get it," Harry shouted. It was probably for him anyway.
Harry opened the front door to find Sirius stood on the doorstep, once again disguised as Dave.
"That was brilliant timing," Harry muttered to Sirius. "Really. Got me out of a boring conversation."
Sirius grinned.
"My pleasure," he said. "That's what godfathers are for."
"Come in," Harry said. "My trunk is ready to go, but I've just got to tell my aunt I'm leaving. Er, I'm not sure you should meet Marge, though—she might want to look at your car. You know, check it's nice and that."
Marge could be funny like that.
"I don't have a car," Sirius pointed out.
"Yeah—that's the problem," Harry said as he shut the front door. "Come on, let's just come through to the kitchen—Aunt Petunia's in there anyway."
Harry took Sirius through to the kitchen.
"Aunt Petunia? Uncle Dave is here to take me to his for New Year's Eve," Harry said.
Petunia turned from where she was chopping something to greet Sirius.
"Hello, Dave," she said. She paused. "Isn't it strange to always look like—to always be—someone else? I can't imagine how you do it."
Sirius shrugged.
"Can't say it's my favourite thing, honestly, but… it's not like I can just wander around with my own face, and we've got buckets of Polyjuice with bits of Dave in it, so… might as well. We were going to send Mad-Eye over to pick up Harry, but when Harry said Vernon's sister is visiting, well, we thought it was better for me to pop over," Sirius explained.
Which Harry thought was for the best, really. Mad-Eye Moody stuck out like… well, like a wooden leg and an electric blue false eye. If Marge had seen him there would have been hell to pay as she was even less tolerant of differences than Vernon was.
And Mad-Eye was very different, even among wizards.
"Who's the real Dave, anyway?" Harry asked. "Do you know?"
"Nah," said Sirius. "I assumed he was just some bloke Dumbledore knows. Never asked. Anyway, you all ready to go?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Er, I mean, if it's okay for us to leave now, Aunt Petunia."
"Of course it is, Harry," Petunia said. "Have a lovely time, and don't forget to write home—god knows you don't send enough letters home."
"I will," Harry said, not really intending to. With Umbridge and the High Inquisition still at Hogwarts, letters home were a liability.
"It was nice seeing you again, Dave," Petunia continued. "But you ought to both get going—before Marge catches you."
Harry paused before leaving.
"Er, tell Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon I said goodbye," Harry said. "And—and tell Marge I'll see her next year at Christmas, probably."
"I will," confirmed Petunia.
With that, Harry was free to go. He picked up his school trunk and the case with his Firebolt inside and left Number Four with Sirius.
"I'm going to Side-along you to mine," Sirius said, "once we get away from the middle of the street. Just this way…"
Sirius led Harry to a more secluded part of Privet Drive, then stuck out his arm. Harry grabbed on and within moments was wrenched through the apparition vortex.
Harry and Sirius emerged from the apparition vortex onto a non-descript street which looked to be somewhere in muggle London. The townhouses were all very nice – tall and reasonably wide, Harry thought they looked like the sorts of places the very wealthy would choose for their city abodes.
Very wealthy muggles, anyway. Harry wouldn't have thought the locale especially well suited to a family with the reputation of the Blacks, but they had evidently chosen to live there if this was where Sirius's home was. Unless he was staying in a safehouse of Dumbledore's, Harry supposed, but he didn't think that was the case.
Harry and Sirius had been deposited onto the pavement just between numbers eleven and thirteen, and from what Harry could see, there didn't appear to be a number twelve. Some odd quirk of numbering, Harry supposed. The entire street looked faded and sad, almost as if it had been forgotten for a long time. What had at first glance seemed impressive and ornate appeared tattered and grimy upon closer inspection.
Expensive houses no doubt, but perhaps not in the best of nick. A bargain for some frugal muggle with a bit of money to throw around.
"This is your house?" Harry asked.
"Yep," Sirius said. "Well, sort of. You'll see. Let me just…" He fished around in his pocket and drew out a scrap of parchment. "Read this."
Harry took it.
"Now? Why?"
"Just read it," Sirius said.
Harry shrugged and looked down at the parchment.
Written in thin, spidery writing was a short phrase.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place
The instant Harry read and understood the words he felt the world shift around him almost as if reality itself had warped and adjusted to his new knowledge. The houses directly in front of Harry appeared to step aside to leave space for something else, and a new house – one which had definitely not been there moments before – sprang into being in the gap. The house looked much the same as its neighbours, although there was an odd, almost malevolent, air to it the others lacked.
That, and a thick layer of grime which suggested it hadn't seen much maintenance in quite some time. Less even than its run-down neighbours. It had the air of a house which had once been grand, but which had long since fallen into disrepair. If the other houses were merely neglected, number twelve looked almost abandoned.
"That's my house," Sirius said. "Come on, let's get on in before someone spots us. Not that they'd remember, but… better safe than sorry."
Sirius opened the front door to his house and ushered Harry inside.
"What's the Order of the Phoenix, anyway?" Harry asked once inside. "Is that—"
"Mudbloods and traitors!" screeched a voice from out of view. "The only son I have left and he consorts with mudblood lovers and halfbreeds! Gone are the days when the House of Black had respect! Now it's a house of ill-repute. If only his father could see just how low his son has sunk!"
"My mother," explained Sirius. "Or her portrait, anyway. Just ignore her—she's stuck to the wall and taking her down is more trouble than it's worth. And it's worth considerable trouble, let me tell you."
"Er, right," Harry said. Sirius's house was not at all what Harry had expected. Screeching, racist portraits notwithstanding, the house was the very definition of fading grandeur. It had clearly once been very well appointed but neglect had weathered the fine décor and left it rather lacking. If his aunt had realised just how tatty the place had looked Harry didn't think she'd have wanted him there in the first place.
"Let's head on down to the kitchen," Sirius said. "I'll explain then."
Sirius led Harry downstairs and into a fairly expansive kitchen. Unlike the entrance hall, the kitchen had a somewhat merry atmosphere. There was even a bit of Christmas decoration, although not nearly as much as Harry had left behind in Privet Drive. But the kitchen looked as if it had been recently painted and had furniture which looked new. Or at the very least, well kept.
The kitchen was empty save for a single elderly house elf who stood near the oven muttering darkly and shoving biscuits from a scruffy box into his mouth.
"Kreacher, we have a guest," Sirius said sharply.
"It thinks Kreacher cares for its guests," muttered the elf. "More halfbloods and blood traitors and shame brought upon his house. Oh, he'll see…"
"You've got a house elf?" Harry asked.
"In a manner of speaking," Sirius said. "Not that you'd ever notice since he prefers not to cook and doesn't do a bit of cleaning."
"Kreacher cooks," sniffed the elf. "Kreacher is cooking right now."
"Only because Dumbledore asked you to," Sirius said. "Ugh. I can't be bothered to argue with you," Sirius said. "Just make sure you don't ruin the anything."
Sirius sat down at the kitchen table and gestured for Harry to follow.
"So, yeah, this is my house," Sirius said. "It's where I've been living since, er… well, you know."
"It's nice," Harry offered. "Er…"
Sirius laughed.
"You don't need to lie. I know it's a hole. Been making steady progress on getting it habitable, but Kreacher stopped cleaning not long after my mother died and there's just a lot of…" he gestured vaguely. "It's a real mess."
"Right," Harry said. "I mean. It does look like it was nice once."
"It was," Sirius said. "Not to live in, mind, but it looked the part. So, anyway, this is… well, it's my house, but it's the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. That's Dumbledore's group. Remember we said, back in the summer, about plans that we were making? This is one of them."
Harry nodded along.
"You did mention that. And Dumbledore said about… so, this is part of how Dumbledore's fighting Voldemort?" Harry asked. He couldn't quite understand how Sirius's grimy old house fitted into the anti-Voldemort coalition Dumbledore had been working on, but he supposed it was a start.
"We needed somewhere to meet, see," Sirius explained. "So I offered the house to Dumbledore. It's not like I was using it for much, anyway. So Dumbledore put it under the Fidelius—that's a spell that keeps things secret—and we're using it for that. Works out well though because it keeps me safe from prying eyes, and now that Dumbledore's on the run for treason it's dead useful for that, too…"
The Fidelius. Harry recognised the name, although it took him a few moments to remember from where, exactly.
"That was the spell my parents…" Harry said, trailing off. The spell Harry's parents had used to hide from Voldemort. The one that had allowed Peter Pettigrew to betray them.
"Yes," Sirius said softly. "This time, we chose a better Secret Keeper. Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper for this place. The spell's a bit weaker with the Secret Keeper living inside the secret, but it's not like anyone is looking for us here anyway."
That did make Harry feel a little better, as Dumbledore was hardly going to betray his own secret to Voldemort. Or the Ministry.
"If the house is a Secret," Harry said, "did Agrippa get here okay? I sent him on ahead—now I'm worried he's just been circling…"
"Nah, he got here fine," Sirius said. "Post owls are… I don't really understand how it works, if I'm honest, but Dumbledore said they can get past the Fidelius."
"Right," Harry said. "Good." That seemed like a hole in an otherwise very good defensive spell, but Harry assumed Dumbledore knew what he was doing. After all, the only reason the Fidelius had failed Harry's parents was their choice of Secret Keeper…
Harry swallowed.
"This party," Harry decided to say instead of any of the other, less pleasant thoughts swirling around his head. "Who's coming?"
"Oh, all sorts," Sirius said, clearly keen for the change in subject. "Some people you already know like Mad-Eye, some you've never met before. Honestly, it's not going to be the most fun you've ever had—not really a teenager sort of party—but there's some people you need to meet and since Dumbledore isn't out and about, it's a good way for him to keep up with everyone. Including you."
That was all perfectly fine with Harry. A party with the Order of the Phoenix was probably going to be a lot more interesting than a tepid night in with his aunt, uncle, Dudley, and Marge. Being the only teenager in a room full of adult wizards and witches couldn't be any worse than how he'd planned to spend the night anyway, and at best it would be a lot better.
"It says we're having a party," Kreacher said from where he stood near the oven. "Kreacher thinks it's more of a gathering. Hardly a party. It's not even using the ballroom." He sniffed. "The mistress would be mortified."
"When the guests include a werewolf and a half-giant," Sirius said, "I hardly think the location would be what mortified my mother."
"How far the House of Black has fallen," lamented Kreacher as he set the box of biscuits to one side. The elf clicked his fingers and the food inside the oven appeared on one of the kitchen counters instead. "A tragedy. A once proud House reduced to this. Oh, the mistress would weep to see it."
The old elf waved his hand at a rolling pin, which started working on some pastry, and then attended to some other kitchen task.
"While he's getting on with all this," Sirius muttered to Harry, "I'll show you to your room. No sense in distracting him when he's actually doing some work for once."
The dynamic between Kreacher and Sirius was an odd one, and one Harry didn't feel comfortable unpicking just then. It seemed like a lot to deal with, and Kreacher didn't behave like any house elf Harry had ever met or even heard about. Even picking where to start seemed like a task in itself. So Harry followed Sirius out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house.
"There is a garden," Sirius said, "but it's a mess. Not that the rest of the house is any good, mind, but the garden is worse. My mother had a taste for dangerous and exotic plants, and they've gone a bit … feral." As they passed the top of the stairs and entered the entrance hall Sirius gestured to Harry's trunk. "Might want to pick those up so we can drop them off in your room. You don't have to, but in case you did."
Harry veered off to grab his trunk and Firebolt case. There was no sense letting them litter the place, especially not if there was going to be a party later. Apart from seeming rude, Harry didn't want anyone to break his Firebolt.
Sirius led Harry up the main staircase, then up another, and then down a long, thin corridor.
"Most of the rooms are still filled up with all sorts of shit," Sirius said, "so I had to clear you out a room especially."
"You didn't have to do that," Harry said. "I could have, I dunno, slept on the settee or something."
"Nah, you should have your own room," Sirius said, waving a hand. "Gave me a reason to clear out some of these places. There's even a boggart in one of the guest bedrooms. Moony said he'd take a look, but he's not got 'round to it yet." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's a big house." He gestured to one of the doors. "This one's yours. Nothing fancy, I'm afraid—just a bed, some drawers. Wardrobe, too."
Sirius swung the door open and showed Harry inside. He hadn't been lying – it really was just a bed, a chest of drawers, and a wardrobe. But the room was clean and presentable, even looked to be freshly painted, so Harry had no complaints at all.
"This room was my cousin Andromeda's, whenever she came to stay," continued Sirius, "so it's one of the nicer ones. Never know what's gone on in some of the other rooms, but this one's fine."
"It looks great," Harry said, dumping his things inside the room. "Really. Thank you."
Sirius mumbled something unintelligible.
"And don't worry about me—I'm downstairs in my old room," Sirius said eventually after a few moments of silence. "And Dumbledore's upstairs, so you've actually got this whole floor to yourself until you go. There's a bathroom just down the hallway. It's clean and everything works properly—I double checked."
"Where is Dumbledore, anyway?" Harry asked. "Is he just… in his room?"
"Probably not," Sirius said. "He's been working his way through the library whenever he's had some spare time. Wants to catalogue some of the Darker stuff in it." Sirius shrugged. "He can do whatever he wants with it as far as I'm concerned—saves me the hassle."
"Right," Harry said.
"He does want to see you—asked me to bring you by not long before the party," Sirius explained. "Just… a bit later. You don't mind, do you?"
Harry shook his head. He'd wanted to see Dumbledore. He had to update Dumbledore on his progress in occlumency, wanted to discuss the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets with him. Needed to ask questions about Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort.
Harry even had some more questions about Umbridge, and there was of course the matter of Dumbledore's 'treason'. There was a lot to cover.
"Brilliant," Sirius said. "So… want to see the ballroom? I've cleaned it up but I felt like… er… this is going to sound petty but I didn't want to use it for the party on principle, so… we're having that in the living room. And kitchen."
It was petty, but Harry understood why Sirius had decided to do that. There was obviously bad blood between him and his parents, a shared history that hadn't gone well at all for Sirius. Being forced to spend his days in this house, which was as much a prison as Azkaban was, for all that it was far nicer clearly wasn't doing Sirius any favours. And it had been a long time indeed since the summer, when Sirius had been allowed outside, free and unrestricted… as long as he wore Dave's face, anyway.
And even that was an imposition. Harry didn't know if he'd be able to cope with it, but Sirius seemed to be managing.
Sirius showed Harry around the rest of the house, leaving out some of the less salubrious rooms and those currently in use by some person or other. Dumbledore or the mysterious Moony Sirius kept mentioning, Harry assumed. Tour over, Harry and Sirius spent a couple of hours playing card games until it was nearly time for the party.
About six o'clock Dumbledore appeared in the doorway to the private lounge. Devoid of pictures or really any kind of personalised decoration, the private lounge was a smaller room on the house's main floor just off the main corridor. It had little to focus on save its occupants, so Harry didn't notice Dumbledore at first, having been distracted by his card game with Sirius. It wasn't until Harry happened to glance over at the clock on the wall that he realised Dumbledore was stood there, waiting. He wore alchemist's robes, ones with patterns and colour gradients on them only an alchemist's enhanced vision could see, although these seemed more casual than any he'd worn while Harry had seen him at school.
Fitting, Harry supposed, for the more casual setting. Being on the run for treason had to have a few benefits, even if those were only sartorial.
"Headmaster!" Harry said. "Er, sorry, I didn't notice you there."
"It's quite alright, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I didn't announce myself." He paused. "And I am no longer your headmaster—for now, Albus will do."
"Er…"
Harry didn't like that one bit. He didn't doubt that Dumbledore would get his job back at some point – the Ministry would be mad to keep Umbridge in post, and Dumbledore hadn't committed treason – and Harry didn't want to start calling him 'Albus' anyway. It felt far too familiar.
"Right. Yes, sir."
"Do you have a few moments for a discussion?" Dumbledore asked. "I would like to test your skill in occlumency before the party, and we have several things to discuss and I would feel better having discussed them before any guests arrive."
Harry nodded.
"Yes, of course. Er, right now?" Harry glanced over at Sirius. "Sorry, we'll have to finish later…"
"It's fine," Sirius said. "You were winning anyway. I'll just go and … wash up, I suppose, before the party. Check in on Kreacher." Sirius got up from his chair and brushed past Dumbledore, who entered the room properly and closed the door behind him.
"Excellent," Dumbledore said. "Before we begin, tell me—how do you fare in your other studies?"
"I think it's going well so far," Harry said. Apart from Alchemy, where he'd already successfully completed an assessed task, it was hard to tell. The homework was challenging but not so difficult he felt overly stressed by it, and the lessons were as they'd ever been with the exception of impositions by Inquisitors. "I'm not too worried about the OWLs yet. I know it's going to be hard but so far, it's alright."
"That is good to know," said Dumbledore. "I had feared the Inquisition would prove too distracting for our students, especially those sitting OWLs or NEWTs, but your response soothes at least some of my trepidation."
"Most of the teachers know how not to upset the Inquisition now," Harry said, "so they don't get many chances to interrupt anymore. Well, except Umbridge—she always finds one—but…" Harry shrugged. "We make do."
"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "And your campaign of peaceful protest? How does it fare?"
"Er… it's going quite well, actually. At first it was only us doing stuff, but now other people are joining in. We don't even know who it is. So… that's good, isn't it? It's what we wanted. We wanted people to know they could stand up to Umbridge and her Inquisitors, and now they are," Harry said. "And Tracey was telling me that the Welsh speakers are trying to organise a protest too."
"Marvellous," Dumbledore said. "I fear I am no closer to unravelling Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy's designs on Hogwarts than I was before I was unceremoniously ousted, but we endure. It is pleasing that you feel as if you and your friends' actions are having the effect you desired. Have you been able to cope with the High Inquisitor's attention?"
Harry nodded. Although Umbridge was paying extra attention to Harry and his friends, they'd found a way around it in the form of the Chamber of Secrets. Which Harry had meant to tell Dumbledore about.
"Yeah. Actually, I was going to say—not long ago I found a… it's quite a big secret actually. So, I'm a—"
Dumbledore held up a hand.
"Consider first whether it is truly necessary for me to know this particular secret," Dumbledore said. "Although I am quite capable of lying even under Veritaserum, I do prefer to not have to. We do not yet know what is to come of all this unpleasantness, and I would like to be able to protect you with the truth if possible."
That made perfect sense, but Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to tell whether the Chamber of Secrets was the sort of thing Dumbledore needed to know about without telling him about it first. It was quite a big secret, as secrets went, and the fact that there was a deadly, giant, basilisk hidden in the school's plumbing seemed like the sort of thing someone with authority should know about.
Just in case. But what Dumbledore had said about being caught was valid. Veritaserum or no, sometimes ignorance really was better than a lie. Harry mulled it over.
"If you believe this information is important for me to know I will of course listen, and I am fully prepared to lie under Veritaserum should I stand trial for treason," Dumbledore said.
Harry shook his head.
"No. It's fine. I will tell you about it eventually," Harry said, "but after all this treason stuff is done with. It's the sort of thing you should know about, just… maybe not right now."
Dumbledore inclined his head.
"As you wish. I trust your judgement in this. Now, I would like to test your occlusion. Are you ready?" At this, Dumbledore had his wand in hand, poised and ready. He glanced at Harry from over the rim of his glasses and waited.
Harry took a moment to clear his mind. Being the target of Dumbledore's legilimency would be a good test of Harry's abilities. Although he was gentler than Snape had ever been, Dumbledore was by far the better legilimens. Snape was rough, aggressive, and insensitive, but Dumbledore had real skill. If Harry couldn't deter Dumbledore, he had no chance against Voldemort, and Voldemort was where the real danger came from. When Harry was sure he had a more than adequate occlusion, he nodded.
"I'm ready."
Harry waited, but Dumbledore did nothing.
At least, nothing Harry could discern. Harry sat there opposite Dumbledore maintaining his occlusion. It wasn't nearly as difficult as it had been at the start of his lessons in occlumency, and with Dumbledore seemingly doing nothing at all, it was even easier.
After a minute or so of nothing at all happening Harry realised that Dumbledore had in fact entered his mind. He was just using such a light touch that Harry hadn't noticed him at all. As tempting as it was to go looking for the foreign presence, Harry didn't. If he went spelunking in his own mind he risked dropping the occlusion. Doing that when Dumbledore was preparing to tell Harry secrets was absolutely not what Harry wanted.
Not at all.
So Harry sat there. His thoughts went unthought, and his mind remained a picture of serenity. Through it all, Harry felt nothing of Dumbledore's intrusion.
Until near enough ten minutes had passed, anyway, and Dumbledore stepped up his invasion. After ages of nothing at all, Harry felt the first rumblings of a presence in his mind. Something like a tap tap tap the edges of his consciousness, a mere distraction that invited further scrutiny.
Harry ignored it.
Dumbledore withdrew.
"Good," Dumbledore said, "very good. Now, I wish you to occlude your true thoughts while maintaining a false narrative for me. When you are ready."
"Right," Harry said. That was much harder. It required him to think of two things at once and hold them separately in his mind. Impossible for anyone unskilled in the Mind Arts, and because of that, a true marker of proficiency. But it was also something he'd found difficult to do with Snape during their lessons.
Not that Snape had offered any helpful advice on how to do it.
Harry took a few breaths and then cleared his mind again. Once he was sure he could maintain that basic occlusion, Harry split his attention and started to think a litany of ordinary thoughts for Dumbledore to find. Reflections on his Christmas. Alchemical equations he needed to memorise. Even conversations he'd had with his friends.
"I'm ready," Harry said.
Dumbledore said nothing, but this time, Harry knew he was performing legilimency. He kept up his torrent of quotidian, mundane thoughts.
I wonder who's going to be at the party, thought the fragment of Harry outside his occlusion. Sirius, obviously; Moody; whoever that Moony bloke Sirius mentioned is…
Professor Dumbledore as well, obviously. I suppose I'll find out later. I wonder if any of them are people I already know.
Sirius said there would be a few surprises. I wonder what he meant, exactly.
At first, Harry felt no presence. It was easy to keep up the inane prattle that passed for ordinary thoughts because there was nothing there to distract him.
He was prepared for that, though. The entire point was for Harry to think all his pointless thoughts outside the occlusion. Anything else would have been too suspicious had Dumbledore been a real invader. So Harry kept at his prattling, and thought his important thoughts behind the occlusion.
Even though it felt increasingly strange doing so.
I bet I could beat Sirius at cards again. He's got that tell. I'm not sure he even realises, Harry thought. I'm not going to tell him. Maybe I'll make him a bet next time, see if I can win some galleons… He's got more than enough, anyway. Maybe I could even—
"I think we are done here," Dumbledore said. "You have performed admirably. I am quite content to proclaim you an occlumens, Harry. Well done."
Harry dropped the occlusion. Keeping up two distinct streams of thought was… disconcerting, especially when it went on too long. Too much danger of the two streams diverging further than was healthy.
"Thank you, Prof—er, sir," Harry said. They hadn't done the most difficult test – occluding while holding a conversation and whilst being under attack – but that was a much more brutal test and also a rather unlikely situation to occur in the first place. And it was, after all, something Harry could work on further throughout the year and in his own time.
No doubt Harry would have to continue his lessons with Snape, as he was merely proficient in occlumency and not a master.
Dumbledore confirmed as much when he next spoke.
"You will, of course, continue your lessons with Professor Snape when you return to school," he said, "but that will be for more advanced study. I am quite confident that you are proficient enough in occlumency that you are capable of holding all of the secrets you need to keep. Indeed, I daresay you would be able to lie under Veritaserum, should the need ever arise." Dumbledore smiled.
Harry nodded along. That was excellent news. Not that he ever intended to sit trial, but with the way the Ministry was going, he didn't think his intentions mattered. If it did come to it he'd at least be able to lie if need be.
"If occlumency can help you lie under Veritaserum," Harry asked, "why don't more people learn it?" It seemed as if, in a world where reliable truth serum existed, occlumency would be a vital skill. And yet it was a rarity, something many wizards didn't even know existed.
"It is both difficult to teach and difficult to learn," said Dumbledore. "You have performed admirably in your studies, and so perhaps you do not quite understand how difficult a skill this is. But many wizards are simply incapable of learning the Mind Arts. It requires a certain…" Dumbledore paused. "A certain stubbornness, a strength of will, that many wizards lack, combined with a certain flexibility of the mind."
That made sense, Harry supposed. Learning occlumency had been hard, and if Harry hadn't had a very good set of motivations to learn he didn't think he'd have managed it. Especially if the only real driver had been the ability to lie during a trial which may never happen.
"I suppose that makes sense," Harry said. "So… now that I'm an occlumens… you said there were things I couldn't learn yet. Can I learn them now?"
"I believe so, yes," Dumbledore said. "Not this evening—we have a party to attend! But we will speak more on this before you go back to school. For now, we shall be content that you are safe to learn to the identity of several of our collaborators! If I am not mistaken, guests will begin to arrive within the hour—you might, perhaps, like to get yourself ready for the party."
Harry nodded.
That was disappointing, but the promise of secrets later on was enough to keep Harry at least a little enthused by everything. And the party would be nice, anyway, even if it was just Harry and a bunch of random adults. It would be a chance to network with people in the Order of the Phoenix, maybe even learn a little more about what the organisation was up to.
If nothing else it would give Harry some good insight into what was going on in the fight against Voldemort, and what was being done to sort of the problems inside the Ministry. And that was worth quite a lot, especially given the situation back at the castle.
"Thank you, Pr—sir," Harry said. "I'll just go get ready, then."
Harry slipped out of the living room and made his way upstairs where he had a quick shower and threw on a nicer robe before returning downstairs.
Guests started to arrive at Grimmauld Place around seven o'clock. Some arrived by Floo, which Harry was surprised to learn was possible when the house was kept secret by the Fidelius charm, and some apparated directly into the entrance hall. A handful of guests even knocked the front door, which Harry assumed meant they had apparated outside for whatever reason.
The most surprising guest, at least at first, came from none of those places. Instead, he came from upstairs. While Harry was chatting with Sirius in the living room he spotted none other than Mr Lupin making his way downstairs.
"Mr Lupin?" Harry blurted out once Lupin had got inside the room. There were few other guests there at that point – Moody, an older wizard Harry recognised from somewhere but couldn't figure out where, and a man Sirius had called 'Dung' – but Mr Lupin certainly wasn't one Harry had been prepared for.
"Ah, so Sirius didn't, in fact, tell you," Lupin said. He glanced at Sirius, who was grinning.
"Nah. More fun this way," Sirius said. "Harry, this is Moony. Moony is…"
"Mr Lupin," finished Lupin. "Though frankly, I could do without the title. I am… was… a friend of your parents'," he explained. "I would have said something while we were at school, but with the Inquisition…"
That Lupin had said nothing about his friendship with Harry's parents did make a lot of sense. With Umbridge and her goon squads roaming about and interfering with everything, such an admission would have been unwise. More than that it probably would have invited further scrutiny of both Harry and Lupin, scrutiny it seemed as if neither of them wanted.
"You can call me Remus when we aren't at school," continued Lupin – Remus.
"Er, right," Harry said. "Um…" He wasn't quite sure how to proceed. He didn't want to treat Lupin – Remus – as one of his teachers, since they were specifically not at a school related function. With Dumbledore it was different, as Harry didn't think it was even possible to behave unlike a student near Dumbledore. The elderly wizard just gave off a schoolmasterly aura.
But Remus… well, it was harder to tell how Harry should behave. And at least with Dumbledore Harry wouldn't have to go back to normal with after the Christmas holiday. He even had homework to submit to Remus.
Weird.
"So you were all friends," Harry decided to say eventually. "You, Sirius, my dad and—and—"
"Peter," said Remus. "Yes. We were quite close in our Hogwarts years, the four of us. It's a… shame… Peter betrayed us. We—none of us—had any idea… if we had…"
"It's done now, Moony," Sirius said. "We all got it wrong. Me most of all. I should have—well…" He took a deep breath. "We already talked about this. I know."
The conversation seemed to be heading down a dark and dreary path, so Harry tried to steer it elsewhere.
"So, you're 'Moony'," Harry said. "I know Sirius is Padfoot because he's a dog animagus, and my dad was Prongs, since he was a stag. Wormtail because he's a rat. Sirius said you were animagi, but he never said what you were. Why 'Moony'? I can't figure it out."
"It wasn't mine to tell," Sirius said softly, more to Remus than to Harry.
"Ah, that," Remus said. "That is… well… it's because… I'm not an animagus."
"But…" Harry started to say, and then stopped himself. Moony. The fact that his boggart was a full moon. His strange sicknesses which just happened to coincide with moon nights. Sirius had even said there would be a werewolf at the party.
It made perfect sense.
"Oh, you're a werewolf," Harry said. "Right. I can't believe I only just…" He sighed. Even the man's name screamed it out loud. "Is that why Umbridge doesn't like you?"
"See?" Sirius said. "I told you he wouldn't care."
"I don't," Harry added, just so that Remus knew Sirius was right. People said all sorts of nonsense things about werewolves, but as far as Harry could tell, all of them were untrue. It was just the same sort of thing certain wizards said about muggles and muggleborns. Werewolves were only dangerous on the nights of the full moon.
"Thank you," mumbled Remus. "Your father was much the same way… But in answer to your question: no, I don't believe that is why the High Inquisitor dislikes me. I would hope she remains unaware of my condition. Certainly, no one should have told her. No, she dislikes me for rather more ordinary reasons: I have challenged her curriculum too many times for her liking."
"Well," Harry said, "your lessons are way better than Lockhart's. Honestly, his are awful, and she loves him. So… you're doing something right, I suppose."
"Do you want a drink, Moony?" Sirius asked. "I'll go grab you one. Just a second…"
Sirius disappeared before Remus could answer him, leaving he and Harry alone. With Sirius gone the conversation grew a little more awkward as Harry fumbled for something more to say.
"So, er… how'd you join the Order, anyway?" Harry asked, hoping the question wasn't a delicate one.
"We were all members of it before," Remus said, suddenly gaining a faraway look in his eyes. "The four of us, your mother, and some others. We weren't much older than you are, truth be told. Of age, of course, but… And this time around…" He cleared his throat. "Dumbledore asked me back." He swallowed. "I was rather surprised to see Sirius here, and more surprised to learn that Peter still lived."
"That must have been a shock," agreed Harry. Finding out one of his best friends was still alive, but also that that man was a traitorous murderer, couldn't have been easy.
Remus laughed, but it didn't sound joyous. Almost the opposite.
"Quite the shock, yes," he said.
Harry was about to respond but was distracted by the loud crack of an apparition. In the entrance hall beyond the living room door Harry could see a young witch, dressed in a rather more alternative style, with a shock of electric blue hair.
"Miss Tonks!" Harry said. Was half the Hogwarts teaching staff part of the Order of the Phoenix? It certainly seemed that way. Although technically, neither Mad-Eye nor Tonks were on the staff anymore.
Tonks seemed to have heard Harry, because she flashed him a toothy smile and strode towards him.
"Wotcher, Harry!" she said. "And none of that 'Miss' Tonks nonsense—call me Tonks. I'm not your teacher anymore, thank God. No offence, but my secondment was awful." She paused. "Just not cut out for that teaching malarkey."
"Er, right," Harry said. "I was just surprised to see you here, that's all."
She grinned.
"Fair enough. It's not every day you see your teachers as a secret society meeting, is it?" Tonks said.
Sirius returned with three drinks. He handed one to Remus, then another to Harry.
"That's a beer," Sirius said to Harry with a nod. "Don't drink it too quick." Then he looked over at Tonks. "Good to see you, little cousin! Nowhere more fun to be?"
She shook her head.
"Nah. All my mates are working tonight. And how often do you get to party with Dumbledore anyway?" She looked around the room. "Not many in yet, are there, though?" she said, more to Sirius and Remus than to Harry. "Or are they in the kitchen?"
"Just not many in yet," Sirius said. "Some won't stay all night anyway—better places to be."
Tonks shrugged.
"We'll see," she said. "I'm just going to go chat with Mad-Eye—want to pick his brains for a bit. See you later!" And with that, Tonks was off, inserting herself into Moody's conversation without so much as a hello. That left Harry with Sirius and Remus.
Harry sipped at his beer. It wasn't his first beer, although he hadn't had all that many chances to try alcohol. Vernon sometimes let Harry and Dudley try some, and Algie Macmillan had let Harry and Ernie drink some at the World Cup. But it was a rarity, so Harry felt incredibly glad Sirius was happy enough letting him drink a beer.
And a whole one, too, not just a few sips. Harry was fully prepared to pace himself. Not only did he want to make a good impression on everyone present, he didn't want Sirius to feel like his trust had been misplaced.
"Thanks for the drink, Sirius," Harry said.
"Well, if you're old enough to party with the Order you're old enough to have a beer while doing it," Sirius said. "But, er, maybe don't tell your aunt—not sure she'd approve."
"I won't," Harry said. Petunia didn't approve of Vernon giving either of the boys alcohol, and that was when she was there to supervise.
After that the three of them took a seat near the fireplace, played cards, and chatted as the night went on. Dumbledore spent much of the night in a room set away from everyone else, with various partygoers flitting in and out of it, no doubt on official Order business. At around nine o'clock Harry heard the tell-tale crack of apparition from the entrance hall. Not long after, Algernon and Mairi Macmillan appeared in the doorway to the living room.
"Happy New Year!" declared Algie as he walked into the room.
For his efforts he received a chorus of New Year's greetings back.
Another two guests Harry hadn't been expecting to see. Although he knew the Macmillans weren't on Voldemort's side, Harry hadn't expected them to have joined Dumbledore's secretive group. But then, perhaps Dumbledore had contacted them after the trial and their glowing character reference...
"Harry! Didn't expect to see you here!" said Algie, mirroring Harry's own thoughts.
"It's nice to see you again, Algie," Harry said. "And you, Mairi."
Of course, Harry had seen Mairi at Hogwarts, although not very much and never in a social capacity.
"Oh—thank you both for the character reference," Harry added. "You know, for the trial? I know I wrote to say thank you but I never got the chance to say it in person. So… thank you."
"Think nothing of it, Harry darling," Mairi said. "We were happy to. Lucius Malfoy is a stain on polite society and everything we said was true. You're one of Ernest's dearest friends—it really was the least we could do."
"And it got us an invitation to this little secretive cabal," Algie added, "so really we should be thanking you! This is really the who's who of the underground, you know." He winked.
"Come and sit with us for a bit," offered Sirius. "Can I get you some drinks?"
"Perhaps after," said Mairi.
"I'll never say no to a stiff drink," Algie said at the same time. They looked at one another.
"We have to meet with Albus before we do anything else, darling," said Mairi to Algie. "And we won't be staying all night anyway—we've got to get back to Ernest and we have another engagement."
"But we will stay for one drink," Algie said. "It would be rude not to! Hah!"
Mairi and Algie disappeared into the meeting with Dumbledore after that, although when they were finished, they did sit down for a swift drink. Algie regaled the group with tales of his latest clash at the Ministry, while Mairi and Remus discussed the trials and tribulations that came with being a Hogwarts teacher during the dark days of the High Inquisition.
From Harry's point of view it was very interesting indeed hearing about that from the teachers' perspective, and it did give him some nice new insights into the situation at the castle. Although as tempted as he was to mention his and his friends' little rebellion, he kept quiet. No sense giving Mairi and Remus information that could cause them both trouble, after all, not when they were both putting themselves on the line by working with the Order of the Phoenix in the first place.
Especially with Dumbledore on the run from a treason charge.
But after a short while Mairi and Algie left, although not before Harry asked them to say hello to Ernie for him.
The rest of the night went like that, with many guests making a brief appearance before and after their meetings with Dumbledore, but not staying until midnight.
Harry didn't mind. It wasn't his party, and it was interesting seeing all of the Order members flit in and out. During his time at the party he'd met several Ministry officials working with the Order, people such as auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. Then at around ten o'clock he even met Arthur Weasley for the first time, himself the head of a Ministry department. Although Algie had joked about it, the Order of the Phoenix really did seem to be the who's who of the anti-Voldemort underground.
"Won't stop for too long," Arthur Weasley said as he popped his head around the living room door. "Have to get back to Molly and the kids. But thought I'd show my face for a bit."
When he saw Harry he paused.
"Don't, er, don't say anything to my kids about me being here," Arthur said to Harry. "Not sure Molly'd approve of—of all this," he said with a vague gesture. "Too dangerous."
"I won't say anything," said Harry, who had absolutely no intention of revealing Arthur's involvement in a secretive anti-Voldemort coalition to his children anyway. Quite apart from the fact that Harry's interactions with the Weasleys were very superficial and nowhere near the point where they shared secrets, Arthur's extracurricular activities were nothing to do with Harry.
Close to eleven Dumbledore joined everyone else in the living room. After that there were no new arrivals, and everyone who was going to leave early had already gone. That left Harry with Sirius and Remus, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Dumbledore and a handful of others.
The adults traded stories of old action, of Christmases and New Years long gone, and all sorts of other things besides. Harry sat there and soaked it all in.
"…so I told him to stick his wand up arse and leave me to it!" Mad-Eye Moody roared close to midnight at the climax of a particularly raucous story. Mad-Eye laughed at his own joke, then unstopped his hip flask to take a long, deep drink from it.
"With every telling of that story I grow ever more sympathetic to poor Abelard," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"But what did his wife do with all the extra billywig stings?" wondered Harry aloud. "Surely she couldn't have—"
"Hah!" exclaimed Moody. "Well, that's just the thing, isn't it boy? The only thing she could do was—"
Except Mad-Eye never got to finish his explanation as a loud whistling alarm went off.
"Thirty seconds to midnight!" said Sirius, standing from his seat, sloshing beer everywhere. "Everyone, get ready!"
At Sirius's announcement everyone stood up, all prior conversation forgotten, and linked arms in a great big circle for the countdown to midnight. Harry, who had never witnessed a proper wizarding New Year's Eve celebration – save the ones in the Common Room, which had all had a very different feel to them – watched intently.
As the Order remnants counted down to midnight, the Wireless – long stood in the corner of the room and neglected in favour of stories and reminiscences – grew louder. There was some sort of radio programme on, a New Year's countdown of its own. At the stroke of midnight everyone in the room cheered, Harry included.
Then everyone – this time except Harry but including the Wireless – burst into a rendition of a song Harry didn't recognise. He'd been expecting the traditional rendition of Auld Lang Syne, but he supposed that was a muggle thing. He mumbled along once he picked up some of the words, but it was over quickly enough.
The celebrations done, everyone settled back into their seats or shuffled off to grab another drink. Harry didn't even mind that he hadn't heard the explanation behind Moody's story. It was enough to be sat amongst a group of interesting people.
It was decent enough company. The fire died down slightly, but Sirius kept it going with the occasional log, and although the Wireless played festive music, it was the buzz of conversation that really kept the atmosphere alive. Harry sat back and enjoyed it, taking in the ambience. Most of the conversations were between people he didn't know very well and about things he knew even less of, but Sirius and Remus were good at including him, and Harry didn't mind anyway. It was nice to be part of it, nice to get that little bit of insight into how the Order worked and what it was up to.
It was even interesting to see Dumbledore in a completely different context, one where he wasn't a headmaster or a mugwump or any of that and was instead just an ordinary wizard. Or at least as ordinary a wizard as Dumbledore could ever be, anyway. Not long after midnight Mundungus Fletcher and some of the other guests left, followed by Mad-Eye Moody. Tonks stayed, but Dumbledore retreated to his room.
Harry grew increasingly tired but fought to stay awake. Sirius and Remus had started telling stories about their time at Hogwarts, and with Tonks adding bits and pieces of her own time at the school, Harry wanted to see the rest of the night out. It was just too interesting to go to bed.
But even that part of the party died down eventually, and Harry found himself stumbling to bed in a tired – and only a little bit tipsy – stupor around three o'clock in the morning.