Harry Potter and the Key to Summer
Chapter Two.
– Conan the Cimmerian, The Tower of the Elephant
The day grew close to an end, and Harry rubbed at the bridge of his nose, upsetting his glasses again. Smirking a bit, he rubbed at the small scotch tape binding that held the two halves together over his nose. Again he'd broken them, but the event wasn't an unpleasant memory.
As he'd asked, Tonks had brought him some books to occupy him with and assist in his studies. This on it's own was great news, but the delivery of them was less than ideal. Chuckling, drinking one of the butterbeer he'd managed to coerce her into bringing for him, Harry remember the look of horror on her face as, when Apparating to his room, she found him quite naked after a shower. Not horrified by him so much as barging in, she'd promptly dropped the stack of books on his bed and Disapparated with a mighty crack, something that left his ears ringing for nearly an hour. He's managed to collect himself and go out to the garden, waiting nearly an hour for her to come back and settle on the bench nearby.
Friday morning had bloomed and was nearing midday when she finally cleared her throat, apologizing profusely for her rudeness. Harry had laughed it off, instead choosing to focus on thanking the young Auror for her help in smuggling him some books to read, and help with his task.
Harry settled back into the book he was currently skimming through, Wandcraft: A Study of a Changing Art, though to be honest it seemed less relevant to his current problem. He'd nearly set it to the side for another when a particular section stood out, as he skimmed the index again.
"How wands pick their masters? Worth a try, I guess," he murmured, turning to the proper passage and devoting himself to the text. A few hours later he pulled free, a thoughtful look on his face. If the book was correct... then he was the rightful master of a few wands that could be found at Hogwarts. An odd revelation in itself, but even more interesting was the fact that since the Department of Mysteries battle, that number increased. The Death Eaters he'd disarmed, or simply defeated, all counted in his wand tally. Reading further his brow furrowed, coming across the following passage;
...wand shares the strongest bond to it's owner at it's initial 'choosing'. As a simple magical focus, a wand of course no more 'chooses' an owner than a pair of shoes. But as with shoes, the fit is there. In each being with magic, there is a particular harmony to their power. That harmony can be matched to a wand, much like tuning a violin's strings.
A magical being can find great benefit from a wand that shares their own traits. As with all things, changing times change wizards, and with the growth of one's magical core, the growth of personality and capability, a wand becomes less an ideal focus, as a clouded lens. Care should be given that as one nurtures their growing ability, that a wand allows for same to grow, or is replaced as times change and the wielder follows suit. As with all wandcrafters and students of the craft, I disregard the ramblings that were recently cast down by the Council of Wizardry in regard to the Stablose Magie; Theorie und Praxis and it's adherents.
Harry closed the book, after marking he page with a small slip of paper, one of many poking up at odd angles from the large tome. The repercussions of the passage made him look to the loose floorboard, where his own wand rested. "I wonder how badly Tom's suits him now – well, there's a sobering thought. As badly as it does, he's still that powerful," stifling a shudder, Harry turned to his window and considered the rest of his day. "Hrm. Still have a few hours..." gathering his knife and cloak in a familiar ritual, the young man stole from the house, the large tome gripped under an arm uncomfortably.
The afternoon had some time ago given way to night, but since it was Friday, he knew Tonks was on a double shift covering both the morning and afternoon ones, till eleven PM. Settling in his familiar place by the Ash tree in the back garden, Harry flipped the book to the proper place and waited, hoping his guard wasn't on her patrol.
Tonks noticed Harry's tell-tale footsteps leading to the back garden, and stifling her curiosity, stayed at her chosen position atop the house till Ms. Figg settled the last of her Kneazle-mix cats and with a knowing glance, went back inside. "Bloody bat takes long enough, wonder how many of those damned cats she has now," the Auror mumbled, dispelling the shrinking charm on her Cleansweep and making her way down to the side path.
She was determined this time to get the jump on Harry. She was behind in the game, and it was time for her to catch up. Setting a Notice-me-not charm on her shoes, she added a Disillusionment charm to her cloak on top if it's Demiguise-woven invisibility. A silencing charm and she was set.
Padding quietly along the path behind Harry, she quietly congratulated herself as she settled behind him, reading over his shoulder for a moment. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Harry practically turned to look directly in her eyes. "Violets this time?"
Squeaking her surprise and falling backward, Tonks bruised her rear on the garden border, laid brick on the vertical, and sat rubbing at the sore spot while glaring daggers at the young man. "How the devil Harry? Just tell me, this is making me spare!"
Harry had to good sense not to chuckle at Tonks's expense. "What did I say when you were leaning over me?"
She gave it a moment's thought and groaned. "Violets. My shampoo."
"Right in one. You always smell nice, so it's easy to tell it's you."
Huffing, she settled by the spot in the hedge she knew was veiled from the house, still glaring slightly at the Boy-Who-Could-Always-Tell-It-Was-Her. "How did you get so good at stealth, Harry? You're better at this than Sirius."
Giving it a moment's thought, he smirked and shook his head. "I guess I have Filtch to thank really. Him and Ms. Norris are a nasty pair. She can always smell me out of my cloak, and so I had to be careful to always smell neutral when I was out and about when I wasn't supposed to be."
Tonks stared at him in mild shock, before breaking out into laughter, shaking her head slowly. "Figures you'd have picked it up following in the Marauder's foot... er paw? Prints." Settling herself on a bit of bunched up cloak, she peered at the book Harry was poring over. "Look at you – like a Ravenclaw there. What's got your eyes glued so tonight?"
"This reference, actually, c'mere and read," Harry answered, making room on the lee side of the Ash for her. Tonks slid over and read the passage he'd outlined, her own brows rising slightly. "Well now, learn something new every day," pulling out her own wand, she ran her eye over it critically. "Wonder if I should pay a visit to Ollivander."
Harry nodded, thinking back to his own wand. "I'd been thinking along the same line," he replied, watching Tonks transfigure some small blades of grass into odd little chirpy birds that huddled together in pairs. "What is yours?"
"Hrm? Oh, it's rowan, with a unicorn hair core. Eleven inches," she said quietly, very conscious now of how close Harry was to her.
Tonks looked up at Harry's quiet laugh. "Same length as mine. Holly with a feather from Fawkes, he said. Same core as Voldemort's, apparently." He didn't miss the small gasped breath she took at the mention of Tom's taken name, and sighed. "Tonks. It's just a name-"
"I know, and trust me I try to say it too. But when you've spent your whole life with it as a curse and pall over your life and family, it just takes a while to shake off," she bit out, feeling irate at herself how she, six years Harry's senior, couldn't say the name she cringed at.
Harry sighed, a contrite cast to his face. "Sorry, I forget. I wasn't really aware of him till it was really too late I suppose. His name, he himself holds no terror to me. Only anger. Only a sadness at the things he's done. All the people he's taken, and would take from me."
She nodded, seeing easily how he could be so flippant with a name that was synonymous with death and torture in their world. Pulling herself back to the book he's showed her, the passage on wands, she pursed her lips in thought. "Why, well other than making me want to go to Ollivander's, did you show me that passage, Harry?"
Following his finger, she noticed the title of a book, near the end of that page. "Huh, don't recognize that one. Let me guess – you want me to look it up?"
Grinning at her answer, he nodded quickly. "I think it could be the k..." sighing, he seemed to concentrate a moment. "A good resource, for this problem I have."
"Quite a problem, if you can't name it," she replied evenly, watching him with a concerned expression. "Is this something we need to-"
"No! I mean, really, no. It's part of Sirius's gift, I just can't talk about it. Geis." When Tonks whistled, her brows rising, he nodded. "Yeah, he was serious about this one. Made sure I worked for it," laughing quietly, Harry stretched against the Ash tree and grimaced, as his stomach took that moment to growl angrily at him.
Tonks laughed, standing to stretch herself. "Should I bring you some food next time I 'visit'," she asked, giving him more than a cursory glance this time. She realized her error, and also that it must be one many made about Harry. His eyes had such magnetism that few noticed how dreadfully thin he was. It didn't help that he wore such horribly ratty muggle hand-me-downs, but in truth he did lean to the unhealthily thin side. "How about I do one better," she offered, thinking out loud.
Harry curled back in on himself instinctively, not wanting to make an issue of himself. "What do you mean?"
"Aurors often have to work long shifts, or multiple ones. We don't get time for regular meals, and we few in the Order even less time," smiling, she softened the words with a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We get potions that supplement our diets and help keep up in optimal shape. Would you be interested in a round?"
Blinking a the offer, Harry was on his feet in a moment, staring at her intensely, nearly making the young woman back up in surprise. "Tonks, do they have something like... I don't know. A body conditioning potion?"
Shaking her head with a small laugh, Tonks had to consider his words a moment to answer. How she wanted to say yes! Such focus and intensity, it was no wonder he was the talk of the young women at the Order. "No, not legally anyway, Harry. That's one thing we'll have to work on the old fashioned way."
Nodding, somewhat disappointed, Harry none the less grasped on to the branch she'd offered. "Well, those other potions would do wonders. At least until I can get out of that place behind me."
"Agreed. I'll bring by a week's supply on Monday. Maybe when the Will reading happens you'll not look so peaky, like last summer."
Rolling his eyes, Harry gave Tonks a glare that set her to chuckling, "Yes, Mrs. Weasley."
"Hey now, surly git!" Swatting at his arm, she still laughed, pulling her hood to place. "Anyway, time to go on patrol. Anything else you can think of that may help out, before I leave you to your weekend?"
Harry considered the question, and shook his head. "Only that book. Or, if the Ministry library can, any that reference it. By the sound of it, something either bad or not well taken was in there, so a copy of it may be hard to get."
"Right, sounds like a sound plan. Rather Ravenclaw as well, sure you're not one in truth?" Tonks teased, snickering slightly as she made her way back to the street. She turned at a quiet retort, one that made her eyes widen, but she was sure she misheard him. Pulling her hood in place and secure in her invisibility, she went on her rounds, a phantom his voice chasing after her.
Harry waved after Tonks, his reply hopefully lost to the wind, despite his honesty in saying it.
"Perhaps if you were there with me."
The Dursleys were gone most of the weekend, citing some small outing involving Grunnings and it's directorship. This left Harry locked in his room with a pack of crackers and a bottle of water that would hardly have lasted a man a day, were they not in possession of Harry's trinkets. Left to his own devices, the Boy-Who-Lived enjoyed the freedom of having he house to himself, all be it carefully.
Without magic to repair things, he'd be hard-pressed if somewhat were broken or far out of place when they returned.
Television was a right waste of time, as nothing there so much as sparked an interest to Harry, neither did the normal wireless programs. Muggle entertainment was scarce and pale compared to what he knew, yet one thing seemed to catch his eye.
Sifting through the various DVD's the piggish young Dudley kept, Harry came upon a rather interesting series, seemingly about a young man in a robe with a sword of light, a princess, and a man in a dark black mask.
Hours later left a somewhat befuddled and thoughtful Harry, and three thoroughly watched DVD's. Shaking off he odd impulse to make sure Voldemort wasn't by some odd chance his father, Harry replaced all his entertainment, cleaned up his mess, disposed of his 'meals' and settled back in his bed.
His dreams were rife with a mish-mash of his own life, filtered through the eyes of a young Skywalker.
Monday came with a great noise at the window, and Harry rose to greet the few owls, none he recognized, that waited attending. No less than three lighted on his bed, all vying for space and priority till Hedwig, previously sleeping soundly, screeched and settled the lot. "Thanks girl," he mumbled, still addled by his own interrupted sleep.
He chose the largest of the three, and plucking the letter free, was relieved to see it wing off on it's own. Unfolding the parchment he found a letter by an unexpected source – Fleur.
Dear Harry,
I have some dire news that you or the Order may not be aware of truthfully, Harry. There are hints that there is a spy among your very friends, something that everyone has wondered to themselves, really. I do hope you are careful, everyone here misses you badly. Gabrielle is very excited with the wedding, every day she talks rounds about it, mostly Dad ends up the worst off, but there again, we all are trying. At Ottery St. Catchpole, at least we hope, to have the evening for the ceremony sooner than school begins.
Overall, we are well. We hope Dumbledore shall let you come to see us in Grimmauld soon.
Monthly we'll be visiting. Till then, Harry!
Additionally, Gabrielle is telling me in no uncertain terms, that you must attend the wedding, and be her escort.
Other news, Bill is working to help me find a position at Gringott's, working at the international offices.
Missives should be more regular, Harry! I hope this finds you well, and that you take my warning. Be well, Harry.
Regards,
Fleur Delacour,
Bill Weasley (I rewrote it from French for her, but she insisted on this last part)
PS: We had it set on the first of the fourth
month, but decided to do it the other way.
A quiet word unlocks the knot. - Fleur
"What the bloody hell does that postscript mean?" Deciding to ask Tonks when he saw here, Harry set aside the confusing letter and only after, noticed the knot, Celtic in origin, stamped into the back of he stationary. Pondering, he looked at the letter again, and reread the postscript, feeling there was more to it than just a simple watermark.
He was brought out of his musing by the other owls, still staring impatiently for him. Choosing the next in the line, he plucked the letter from it's leg and noticed it too made it's way off into the Monday sky.
Mr. Potter,
Though we may not be on speaking, or even friendly terms, I must impress on you the gravity of this letter. Situations are quickly arising that would cause great turmoil in the camp of the Dark Lord, and you are instrumental in this.
Despite the pleas you may hear, do not acquiesce to anything that the enemy camp demands! Life or death may be bandied about, but do not waver in what you feel to be right.
I shall not contact you again, the risk is too great. This letter was sent at great personal cost.
N.
Harry puzzled at this letter, suddenly scared for anyone else that would be attending the reading with him. He wished he'd kept the owl to ask for more details, but with it already gone he was even more in the dark than before. And who could this "N" be? How could he make such an impact on the Dark Lord, from just a Will?
"Oh Sirius, what have you set in motion, and how will this all play out," he asked the last owl, earning him a quizzical glance from the bird.
Taking the letter, he watched the bird for any sign it wanted a response, but saw none and sighed, another possibly cryptic note now clutched in his hand. Warily he checked the letter and saw only the Ministry seal, relaxing. "Ironic isn't it Hedwig? A Ministry letter being the one that doesn't bother me."
A gentle hoot was the only response, as he broke the wax seal with the Ministry crest.
Attn: Harry James Potter,
We were recently made aware that you were to come into possession of what could be a property containing many items of a dark magical nature. As with all inheritance issues, the details of such property changing hands is not required, but highly recommended, to be handled by the Ministry.
To facilitate and avoid any future confusions on the legality of the property and it's contents, the Department of Magical Inheritance and Titles would like to extend the offer to officiate the Will reading of one Sirius Black, current and standing Heir of the House and Title Lord Black.
Regards,
Gregory Wells, esq.
Department of Magical Inheritance and Titles
Harry took a deep breath before laying this particular letter down inside Hedwig's cage with a satisfied smirk. "I think you can appreciate this one properly, girl."
The rest of his day was spent in a mild melancholy, as the letters had put him on edge and made him dread what he had not before. Sirius's Will had not concerned him, after he'd read his Godfather's letter. Not even the fact such had been kept from him, apparently till today, had it occurred to him to be concerned about it. Sirius had made it clear some prank, either in the reading or the beneficiary, should be expected, but now Harry doubted his Godfather had planned enough for the event.
Deciding not to worry on such things when there was nothing he could do about them before the fact, Harry delved again into his studies, this time focusing on a book detailing magical theory, in regard to humans, house-elves, centaurs and 'changed' humans. It was a bit beyond Harry, but what he did glean from the lofty work was at least enough to answer one of his early curiosities.
He'd often seen Dobby about Hogwarts during his time there, and as each time it seemed the somewhat odd elf had been able able to Apparate or the equivalent without difficulty. Harry knew one could be keyed into the wards around the castle school, but didn't expect the Headmaster to do so, just for an elf. Or all the elves. This lead Harry to wonder at the nature of those wards, and what made them keep students and people who could Apparate from doing so, as well as how Dobby had managed to do so inside the Dursley's home. The simple reason seemed frankly foolish to Harry — wizards didn't bother to ward beyond their own species. If what he read was correct, most wards when erected only warded for the casters own species. It explained much, particularly last summer's near-fatal catastrophe with the Dementors.
He'd been side-Apparated into his room of course, but always by an Order member. The fact Snape was possibly also on that list worried him more than a little. Five years those wards had stood, but now Harry was worrying at them. The source of that was of course Dobby, but it quickly spiraled out, particularly when he considered the happening around the Triwizard Tourney.
"Tom has my blood. If Dumbledore thinks blood wards are safe... wouldn't it counteract? Would not those same wards protect even Voldemort now, if he were to come here?" Questions he didn't really want to think about set him to a fit of packing, stowing all he had and valued back in his trunk without a second thought.
By late that night Harry had worked himself into a state, and he sat rigidly on the bench behind the garden under his cloak even before Podmore had left his shift to Tonks's care. Such was how the young Auror found Harry, after a short whispered conversation with the other Order guard.
She could see the nervous worry written all over Harry, and sat beside him, being sure to make enough noise to let him know she was there. "Wotcher, Harry."
"Hey Tonks." Harry replied, looking nervously in her direction. "Not so good a night as last Monday, I'm afraid."
"I can see that," the Auror replied, laying a hand on the nervous young man's shoulder. "You're wound tight as a top, what's on your mind?" Tonks shifted her own small pack to the side, figuring it best to mention the potions and her research project after diffusing his odd mood.
Laughing nervously, Harry turned his emerald gaze to the hands that held the various letters, notes and research he'd done over the last week. "Everything, it seems. Letters from mysterious people, the Ministry, friends... Even my books are making me paranoid."
Taking a note from Harry's book, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, trying to soothe his harried mind. "Want to talk about it some? Have you tried to talk to anyone else?"
Snorting he shook his head where it leaned on her shoulder, "No, I can't talk to anyone else. Hell, likely they'd go strait to Dumbledore and I can't have that. Too many Riddles to solve, and I'm not the 'brightest witch of the age' exactly, you know?"
"Well, that's one thing I'm glad of," Tonks quipped, earning her a curious glance from Harry. "Well, if you were a witch rather than a wizard..."
"Oh sod off," he sighed, shoving her back onto the bench and back to arm's length. Glaring slightly at the Auror's laughter, he noticed the pack she'd brought. "What's that?"
"The potions and the notes on that book you wanted me to look for. Have to say, you owe me for this one... But first, lets see what has you so upset, hm?" Reigning in her mirth, Tonks motioned to look at his sheaf of paperwork. Harry handed her a few pieces, and she went to work reading them in the low light of the late July night.
Fleur's letter seemed fairly strait-forward, and considering the source, a bit too much so. The note that Bill had corrected it so Harry would better understand made some sense, but then why wasn't she aware of those warnings, from the Order? Bill was a member after all... "Harry, what kind of bird delivered this letter?"
"Was an eagle-owl, rather large too. Kind of tawny I think. Don't properly remember," he murmured, reading the letter himself again for what could really be the thousandth time.
Tonks's brow furrowed in thought as she tried to remember if the Weasleys owned an eagle-owl, but stopped as she read the passage about Gringott's. "Bill... that was a Gringott's owl. He sent this from where he works, hoping it'd not be intercepted. Did it arrive with a number of others?"
Harry nodded, recalling that same Monday's morning. "There were three waiting, all at the same time. Seemed a bit foul tempered the lot too."
"He must have timed it, or brought it nearby when he knew the others would be released... Lets work on that one more in a minute. What about the others?"
Handing her the other letter, not having bothered to retrieve the one from the Ministry, Harry voiced the same confusion on the rather anonymous letter too. "I can't think of who would send me something like that. I mean... it almost sounds like a traitor inside Voldemort's camp, but who would be so bold?"
The young Auror considered that, but also the unbalancing nature of the letter and it's timing. "Great personal cost... perhaps they did know the price of betrayal. We'll know at the reading. At least we have some warning, even if it proves less than vital." Tonks considered the letters, then looked at Harry, tilting her head to bely her curiosity, "These letters wouldn't put you in such a state, what else is there?"
"I guess the thing that has me most concerned, is what I've been researching. I was curious how Dobby could Apparate into and out of this place's wards, when I thought everyone had to be keyed to them."
Tonks shrugged, considering, "House elves are usually attuned to their master's homes."
Shaking his head, Harry countered, "But then, he was working for Malfoy."
Blinking rapidly, Tonks realized what he meant. "Right. He could... they all do don't they? Hogwarts too?" Seeing where her mind had led her, Harry simply nodded. "Bloody. What a hole. Oh my... Kreacher."
Harry paled, remembering the foul-tempered old elf, and how he was Sirius's only company in Grimmauld for many months. He also realized that like most wizards, everyone had discounted Kreacher's presence at meetings and during idle talk. The possibilities for him to spy and betray them, especially with Sirius dead and no real master to the Black home weren't missed. "Do you think?"
"I'll find out," Tonks's tone was icy, something Harry had never heard on the Auror. The angle at which he sat wouldn't let him find her eyes, but he wagered there wasn't a hint of warmth to them. "As bad as that could be, I imagine Kreature wasn't what was on your mind. What was your worry, though?"
Taking a calming breath, Harry pushed forward, knowing he may have to relive his wost moment in the cemetery, to properly explain his concern. "During the Triwizard, at the end, Voldemort took my blood to regain his body."
"He what?" aghast, Tonks stood and spun about in place, coming quickly to the same conclusion as Harry. "And you're protected by blood wards... what the hell!"
"My sentiments, really."
Tonks looked at Harry incredulously, then sat hard on the bench again. "He's had you here since then. Do the other wards work so well? They can't! What am I thinking, if simple wards worked on Voldemort, then the bloody wizarding world wouldn't piss themselves at his name!"
Harry's laughter snapped her out of her diatribe, and Tonks glared at him for the trouble. Waving his hands slightly, Harry grinned. "You said his name. I was just impressed, you didn't even stutter." When Tonks blushed slightly, her eyes going wide, he laughed again.
"So I did," Tonks mumbled, shrugging. "Wasn't really thinking about it. You've been rubbing off on me. But, all that aside. How is Dumbledore justifying you staying here, or keeping you safe?" She was making her own conclusions on that, as well as the Order's activities, and not liking what she thought.
Harry shook his head, sighing. "Honestly, I think its more blind luck. He can't locate me, directly, but that won't keep him from trying. What wards I have probably keep him from seeing this place, like a muggle-repelling charm, but that, like Hogwarts and it's wards, work on humans. Obviously he figured Dementors wouldn't care, as he sent them last year."
"Fenrir. He could send Grayback here. Is he really such a fool?"
"Tonks," Harry stood, settling his cloak about him, "don't worry on it."
She gaped at him like a fish for a moment before standing and stepping in front of the retreating young man. "Don't worry on it? Are you daft? Of course I'm going to worry on it! What do you expect me to do, sit by idly while You-Know-Who waltzes by, or sends some other horror to just snatch you up?"
"No more than I do, but you really don't... look." Sitting back down, he glanced around nervously, pulling at her sleeve. "Listen, alright? I'm leaving, probably soon. I've decided to get out of this place and try to find somewhere safe. Maybe the Burrow, maybe Grimmauld. I don't know. Hell, at this point the Leaky Cauldron would be an improvement."
Taking a deep breath, Tonks looked at Harry with sadness in her eyes, "But, you know Harry... he won't let you. If he finds you, if Dumbledore finds you, he'll simply send you back to this horrible place."
"I know that! But if I don't try, then what can I do?"
Fretting, Tonks picked up the note from Fleur and turned it over and around in her hands. "Lets... lets work on this, maybe I can come up with something as we puzzle it out. I know there's more to this than the obvious."
"Alright," sitting beside the pretty Auror, Harry settled his mind for the first time since that morning, abandoning all the rampant winds of his own confusion and focusing just on the Riddle, the note itself.
He pored over it quietly, rereading it, picking up odd inconsistencies. He asked Tonks, and she admitted even Bill didn't write that way, but she was unfamiliar with Fleur. Harry added that it wasn't like her to sound like she did, or the letter did.
"So," Tonks took the parchment and flipped it over in her hands a few time. "Either it's a fake, or a fabrication."
"Aren't those the same?"
Shaking her head, Tonks smoothed the paper out, motioning for Harry's notebook. Without hesitation, he handed it to her and waited for the Auror to continue. "A fake is simply a bad copy, something meant to look real. A fabrication is false, yes, but it may still come from the correct source. It may be something like a code or puzzle."
"Great an... more questions." Tonks raised a brow at his amended wording, to which he shrugged.
Harry took the letter and looked at it again. "This postscript is different. Has a tone that doesn't match the letter, but those are often hurried or corrections... maybe it's the key?"
Tonks nodded, taking a blank piece of paper and Harry's pen, and wrote the postscript again, just in her own way.
"First of the fourth," she muttered, then brightened, grinning. "Read through the letter, and tell me the first letter of every fourth word, Harry."
After a few moments bumbling, and a few mistakes, they had the result up to a point where a letter seemed to repeat, at which point Tonks looked at where Harry had marked and stopped. If what they had was a secret missive, the message was sobering to say the least. "I see words, but can it really be right?" Harry asked, going pale as he remembered something from when break began.
"'Don't have the beer, D. watches owls' is what I can make of it. I'm stopping when we get to word 'Monthly', though," she explained, scribbling another set of letters after the first.
Harry watched her underline letters, and saw her reasoning. "They broke the line purposefully at month in the postscript. So you think the rest of it describes another code?"
"Fourth of the first this time. Since it began with a break, I'm using that as my queue."
Harry checked her work, and the word oddly made a simple kind of sense. "Ties?"
Tonks nodded, but flipped he paper over quickly, before attempting her guess. "Actually, I'm guessing it's not a word, but a key to a phrase." Grinning over at Harry, she nodded once, and he answered.
"Ties the knot," she said firmly, directly at the Celtic knot that adorned the back of the letter. As the words finished leaving her lips, the complex pattern unraveled, as if cut from the center. There in the middle of the page rested what looked like a shallow recess, and within it, Harry's Vault key.
"Brilliant," Harry murmured, reaching out and taking his key with a grin. "That was brilliant work Tonks!"
Blushing at the praise, she simply grinned back at Harry, shaking her head slowly. "You'd have gotten it before the reading, I'm sure. Well I could hope. But if what we read is correct... D. Dumbledore?"
"Has to be."
"So he is intercepting your mail. That part's easy enough, I think we've both come to that conclusion." She looked over the first part of the code, biting her lip as she considered it. "I don't get this part though. You're not of age to drink at all, what kind of beer are they worrying over?"
"Butterbeer," he said quietly. "I was sent a small case of it, seven bottles each week from the Weasleys."
Tonks sat in a daze, considering what that could mean. "No, no! None of the Weasleys would do anything to you," she noted the thoughtful look in Harry's eye and turned him to face her. "What is it, Harry? What has you considering that?"
He shook his head and tried to piece the odd parts of the puzzle together, but something wasn't fitting. It sat, jagged and with gaps. "When the first letter and bewitched package arrived, it seemed to have been off when I set it down. It cracked a bottle of the butterbeer and it smelled odd."
"Odd how, Harry?"
Scrunching up his eyes, Harry tried to remember the precise combination. "I think... well on top of the normal butterscotch and tart, there was... well wood polish. And treacle tart, which is too sweet for butterbeer, you know? Also I think there was a hint of lilies."
"None of that sounds bad, but to be... wait. Harry, what are your favorite things. Honestly, heartfelt favorite things?"
Confused, Harry flailed about thinking for a moment, searching for answers. "Well, flying – on a broom I suppose. Quidditch, and all. Pictures of my mum and dad. Hogwarts, my friends." Shaking his head slowly, Harry trailed off.
"Wood polish for brooms. Lilies for your mother, and I can only hazard to guess you like treacle tart, yes?"
Nodding woodenly, Harry agreed.
Taking him by the shoulders, Tonks turned Harry to face her fully, "Harry, did you drink any of that butterbeer?"
"No, not since the first one broke. I checked all the rest, and they all smelled the same. It wasn't unpleasant, mind, just odd. Not like it should smell," he explained, motioning to the back of the garden, where he poured the lot out each time. "I pour them out there, as I can't really throw them in the garbage."
Tonks stood quickly and knelt by the oddly damp patch of soil, noting that the roses nearby were in particularly high bloom. "How recently have you added to this patch?"
"Three days?"
Murmuring a spell, Tonks hissed when the patch turned a fairly vivid red. "Amortentia."
Harry watched this all with growing confusion, finally he stood and came to Tonks's side, turning her to face him much as she'd done before. "What is Amor – Amortentia?"
Looking everywhere but at Harry, Tonks motioned to the bench again. "Sit, this may take a small while to sort out, and it'll not be pleasant." Sighing to herself, she resigned to explain the lot to him, damn the consequences. "For either of us," she murmured under her breath.
The next half an hour passed with Tonks explaining what Amortentia is, and how it could affect him. Harry relayed that his feelings for Ginny had waned as the summer progressed, eventually fading to what he felt was a comfortable friendship. He liked her well enough, but it just seemed odd – she was the sister of his best mate. On top of it all, she saw him as the Boy-Who-Lived, an idol, a hero. She'd said as much at their last meeting, leaving King's Cross to each go their separate ways.
Harry, as he explained to Tonks, really despised anything that took away from him as a person, and labeled him like Voldemort. The Boy-Who-Lived moniker was a sore point to him, and there was likely little chance he'd ever normally had started a relationship with the young Weasley, after the way she seemed to follow him about like a puppy.
"Do you think she was spiking your butterbeer with the potion?" Tonks asked levelly, leaning back against the Ash tree, having foregone the bench for something more comfortable. She cocked her head to the side to see Harry considering her question carefully, which to Tonks wasn't a good sign.
He really couldn't see Ginny doing something like that. Harry also couldn't see himself being more than just friends with the girl, but apparently, both had happened, in some fashion. "I don't know. Maybe, but I don't understand why she would. Then again, if Dumbledore is checking the mail, it could even be him. "
Sighing, the young Auror shook her head slowly. "There were rumors, you know. Some pretty harsh, from what I heard from mum, about Molly Prewett. Before she married Arthur." Gathering herself, Tonks looked up to the star her cousin was named for, searching for strength. "They said she used Amortentia to snare him. The Weasley line wasn't always stretched so thin, as far as money goes, you see. Not far back, they'd married into the Blacks even."
"Blacks and Weasleys married?" Harry boggled at the idea, unable to reconcile it.
"I actually believe it was Arthur's mother, that was a Black to be honest. Cedrella? I think that was it. She was blasted off the wall for it, or during the first war as a result. I'm not sure. Mum doesn't talk about her home, from when she was growing up much," Tonks recollected, trying to place the various tales she'd been told by her mother, Sirius and her own observation of the huge, sprawling Black Family Tree within Grimmauld.
Harry simply stared at the grass between his feet, feeling the comforting coolness of the night, and it's chill in the ground seemingly try to comfort his distress. Could Ginny, or Molly even, have tried to lace the food and drink they sent to him with a love potion? If that were true...
Who could Harry trust? Dumbledore, the Weasleys... both parties he'd felt, up to recently, were without question. But now... Sighing, Harry gave in to gravity and flopped back on the grass with a muffled thump.
"Knut for your thoughts, Harry?" Tonks asked, leaning over and blocking the stars with her dark blue hair.
Blinking up at her quietly, he none the less smiled as her hair rotated colors, possibly at random, possibly just to cheer him up. "Just thinking. I should leave this place, and soon. It's... I'm just not safe here."
Tonks seemed to consider his words, but gave nothing away. "Where would you go?"
"I can't go anywhere." Laughing quietly, Harry sighed and motioned for Tonks to move so he could stand. "There's no place I can go, that I can shake loose Dumbledore's shackles. No place that is hidden from him, Voldemort and the Ministry." Smiling over his shoulder, he simply shrugged, walking back to the Dursleys with a heavy heart. "I'm trapped here far more than I even thought."
Watching him walk, willingly to his prison, Tonks turned and sobbed into her cloak quietly. Forgotten were the vitamin and nutrient potions she'd brought, as well as the sheafs of copied research and notes about an ancient book, all waiting in her pack. Forgotten was her patrol, she knew it was late, but she felt it more important to talk with Harry, than go for a pointless stroll along the lanes. "It's just not fair for him. Not fair at all."
Harry took his time going back to his room, stopping off in the kitchen to get an apple, which he finished by the time he made it to his room. He was just pulling out his knife to undo the locks and go back inside, when a bright flash of red caught the edge of his vision, and he knew no more.
Arabella Figg had a fairly simple, quiet life. The only real commotion was when the various wizards of the Order used her home to Floo or as a common room for when they worked, guarding Harry. She had a simple house, with simple furnishings. The only real complication she'd had was during the last summer, when that poor boy had to summon a Patronus to drive off those Dementors.
And then, Nymphadora Tonks burst into the house, sputtering something about spells and missing and ran over half her cats on the way to the Floo.
"Twelve Grimmauld Place," the twitchy Auror shouted, barely waiting for the fire to turn green before shoving her head into it. "Emergency, Harry's gone missing, and there was spells cast. Get the Order here, now!" Tonks then pulled out her mirror and did the same, setting it to announce to all other Order members the message she'd sent to Grimmauld.
Nearly two hours, an exhaustive search, and even the use of Veritaserum on the Dursleys yielded no clues, beyond what lay in Harry's room.
"I have trace of a forced side-along Apparation, inside the room." Moody waved his wand again and growled under his breath. "No signature."
Kingsley nodded, letting loose a sigh as he recorded all the magical signatures in the house. "Only things in the last twenty-four hours that register are... Invisibility cloak use, an unlocking charm device, wizarding photos, a wizard's trinket – have to guess that to be the miniature Firebolt there, a charmed letter, owl missives, an unsigned stunner, unsigned shrinking charm, unsigned packing charm and that Apparation." Uncharacteristically for the tall Auror, he kicked out at the door frame in frustration, upsetting a small fall of dust from the jamb.
Moody came by, thumping along with his cane and resting a hand along the other Aurors shoulder. "We'll find him, Shack. No worries on that. Where can he be hidden that Dumbledore can't find? Or us?" Sighing, the scarred man turned to look at the room one last time. "Seems whoever took him, meant for him to be comfortable at least. Took a few of his things, I reckon."
Nodding, Kingsley sighed and motioned the two to leave, and with a series of cracks from Apparating, the two returned to Grimmauld Place.
Albus Dumbledore, present in a great midnight blue robe and his customary glasses stoically surveyed the darkened, gloomy room and it's occupants. The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was cramped, but tonight it seemed even more unpleasant. Addressing the collected Order, the emergency meeting having been called just after Tonks's alert, the Headmaster began, "This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix shall come to order... As you're all aware, young Harry Potter has gone missing, in such a way that suggests foul play."
Molly Weasley wailed quietly at this, having hoped beyond reason that the young man she's all but adopted to be simply sneaking about or stretching his legs. Wringing her hands and collapsing into her husband's shoulder, she broke down finally. Her sons that were present gravitated to their matron, even if silent, offering their support by being nearby.
Other members of the Order reacted in different ways. Hagrid looked tired, sad and fell silent, his eyes distant. The various Ministry members all conferred one to another, speculating. Moody, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Lupin converged and sat near one another, but didn't speak, knowing full well soon they'd be called on to take the search outside of the Order. The Professors, minus Lupin, stayed by Albus and simply looked lost and worried. Snape was the single exception to every rule, sitting alone and looking pensive and confused, which worried some present even more than his usual surly demeanor.
"Settle down everyone, I understand your concerns... but we cannot make any progress with this chaos," gently chiding the Order, his gaze took in each person's pain and worry, offering them his own in return. In a few moments the many attending settled into a tense quiet, waiting. "Very well. Now, as Nymphadora was on duty this night, let us hear her account."
Stifling the grimace that her given name caused, the young Auror stepped forward and went into report mode, her memory clearing and relaying details of the night as she recalled them. Those familiar with the Ministry and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were familiar with this, being trained to either dictate as she did, or record from Aurors if called on to do so.
"At a quarter till 11pm I arrived at Privet drive by Apparation and checked in with the patrol station, at the Figg residence. There was no unusual traffic, and one unfamiliar vehicle that was identified as belonging to the fiancée of a local teen. Threat value was negligible. At five minutes till 11pm I arrived on site and and relieved Podmore, who gave me a brief account of the day.
"Recount needed?" Tonks waited for a signal to recount Podmore's report, and receiving a negative, continued her own, "Principal was sitting on-"
"Excuse me, his name is Harry," Molly Weasley, cut in, with a strangled sob to punctuate her words. Tonks turned a distant eye to the grieving woman, and simply continued her account.
"-sitting on the bench, located in the back garden. He has numerous papers in his hands and was apparently somewhat nervous, anxious or disturbed." Pausing for breath, the young Auror was cut off before she'd uttered another syllable by Molly again.
"And you didn't approach him? What kind of-"
"Weasley, our guard assignments were outlined strictly as observation and patrol," Tonks ground out, annoyed at having her report interrupted again. "We aren't authorized to contact, support or otherwise interfere with the Prin – with Harry."
Arthur physically restrained his spouse as the woman seemed intent on jumping over the table and throttling the insolent Auror. "Why you useless, insensitive..."
Tonks turned to Dumbledore and held up her wand with a tight-lipped expression, "Sir?"
Scandalized, Molly sat down hard and looked back and forth between the Headmaster and the Auror. "You wouldn't..." she trailed off as Albus gave her a gentle shake of his head.
"We must maintain ourselves, if we are to overcome this," he reminded them all, looking at everyone but Molly pointedly. "Now, as much as I applaud Nymphadora for her professionalism in her work, this is a delicate, and different case..."
Turning to the room, Tonks stepped back, letting the dictation mode fade from her features. "I know, Dumbledore. I wanted to, often. But our orders were specific-"
"And open to interpretation, if needed," the aged wizard interjected, quietly, yet loud enough to carry. Tonks looked appropriately abashed. Sighing, the Headmaster looked over his Order and tried to think of what could have happened to young Potter. "Were there any signs of heavy violence?"
Moody shook his head, looking for all the world older than usual. "No sir, nothing but a light scuffing on the floor by his door. Here's the record of the signatures from the house." The sheet of parchment, recording all the magical impressions from the vicinity of Harry's room passed to the Headmaster. "Damned locks were still done as well. Everything in his room was still in place, and apparently he'd let his owl out to hunt. She's yet to return."
Brows rising slightly, Albus considered these last words quietly. "Indeed."
"Yes sir. If we see her, we'll bring her here. In addition, it looks like he was studying his school texts, poor lad," Kingsley added, shaking his head. "Must have been rereading those same books all summer. Wish I'd dropped off some old texts I had for him now."
Smiling sadly, Dumbledore regarded the tall Auror with a slight glint to his eye, "Ah, hindsight. Well, perhaps when he's back safe at home, we can think of such pleasantness. But now," he turned, expression going stern and hard. "We must locate and return Harry to safety. I want everyone to keep an ear to the ground about this; do not let anything that could be relevant go uninvestigated."
Rising to his full height, Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "Nothing else of interest is relevant tonight. Let us be about our tasks. Nymphadora, please wait outside a moment, and Severus? I'll speak with you a moment, please." The other Order members filed, or in Molly's case, were helped out of the room, with only Severus Snape staying behind with the Headmaster.
When the door had closed, Albus rounded on the Potion Master, his blue eyes glaring faintly like fiendfyre as he grated his words behind clenched teeth, "This is why you are still free, Severus! Why were we not warned? What has Voldemort done with Harry?"
At a loss, the lank-haired man drew back from the Headmaster's glare, taken aback by the sudden rage he was witness to. "I-I didn't know, Headmaster. The Dark Lord mentioned nothing about attacking the boy's home, in fact unless I've lost favor with him and am no longer to be trusted, he doesn't know it's location."
"I pray... I pray you are correct Severus. In that you are still in his favor, and that he wasn't involved," his eyes still hard and cold, the older wizard loomed over the professor, Snape's eyes dilating with fear. "For if you have lost your use to me, then he shall be all that can give you shelter. Remember this."
Seemingly dismissed, Snape turned away and made a brisk path to the door. As he opened the portal, a final word caught his attention, "And that, without the Order, even he won't suffer your presence." Closing the door behind him, the Potions Master stood in the common room of 12 Grimmauld looking uncharacteristically shaken and drawn.
Tonight, no one would harass him, or press him due to his history or methods. It was plain enough to see he was already in a bad way. Tonks watched him go with a sense of dread, knowing she was next to speak to the Headmaster. Deciding to get it done sooner as opposed to later, she stepped into the kitchen and cleared her throat, announcing her presence to the man, steeping tea at the table.
"Come in, Nymphadora," Albus beckoned, not looking up from his tea. When she rounded the table to his side, he held up a stilling hand. "I understand you were on patrol when Harry went missing, tonight."
Swallowing, Tonks nodded once, "Yes sir, as we're supposed to once the shift has gone on for a brief time."
"Tell me then, why it is you were on patrol, approximately one hour later than usual?"
Tonks sighed and looked down, shaking her head. "I have no excuse."
Weary was the word she'd use for this day, Tonks mused to herself. "I was not searching for one. Merely pointing out the reasons for what I must do."
Wary, her instincts told her to run, yet the Auror training she'd spent three years suffering in refused to let her. "Sir?"
"It is with a heavy heart that I must dismiss you from the Order. Following tonight, you will no longer be able to enter or even remember the location to this building. It sadly, must be done. They will want someone to blame for this tragedy, and as I see it, you will have to be the one." Looking up with weary eyes, Dumbledore drew his wand and pointed it at the young Auror, who stiffened in reflex.
"I am also afraid, that I must strike from your memory the members of the Order itself." At her rebellious glare he smiled, sadly. "Oh you shall remember them, but not that they are of the Order. Forgive me, Nymphadora, but this... this is for the greater good. Obliviate."
Tonks came aware blinking in her own flat, a cup of lukewarm tea in her hand. Setting it gently down she stretched, trying to ease taut muscles. Squinting at the seemingly sudden light from her kitchen, the young Auror went about putting away her neglected tea, and readying herself for sleep. Tomorrow was a Tuesday, and she had some sleep to... to.
"Why am I up so late when I have to work tomorrow?" She mused, looking over her flat with a wary eye. Something seemed out of place. She shuddered to think that something was her. Tonks was an Auror for a reason, and despite her sometimes clumsiness, she completed her training as one of the youngest recruits in a long time. Those accolades don't come cheaply, or idly.
Walking to her door, she pulled the small slip of paper off the jamb, camouflaged to look like so much plastered wood. "I forgot my milk money," she murmured the passphrase to it, watching the scroll expand and give her a record of all the spells and magical devices activated in her home over the last twenty-four hours. The list was rather normal until...
12:30am, Pensieve activity
12:35am, Apparation (inbound), unsigned – ward access granted
12:37am, two Apparation (outbound), one unsigned
2:48am, side-along Apparation (inbound) ward access granted
2:48am, unknown ward access spell
2:48am, unknown signature masking spell
2:49am, unknown charm
2:51am, Apparation (outbound) ward access granted
Tonks stared at the list with something akin to horror. "What's... going on?" Scanning her house, she pulled her wand, but remembering the list and her own paranoia, went to her den and the desk there. Atop her writing desk, sat what appeared to be a muggle pencil sharpener – Tonks even bought some pencils to keep nearby just to make the illusion believable. Of course it wasn't a pencil sharpener, as she jammed her wand tip-first into the thing, eliciting a rather loud squawk. Her eyes narrowed and she rapped on the thing twice, which caused it to rumble a moment then ding like a bell.
"Trace charm removed... now to figure out what the hell happened here," waving her wand briefly, she accessed her wards directly, and watched as Dumbledore appeared then seemed to disappear. "Sneaky... alright. Lets try another way."
Adjust her own vision slightly, calling on her Metamorph skills, she meshed her vision to that of her wards, forcing herself to see the magic directly. "Ow. This never gets easier... there we go."
Tonks released her altered vision and rubbed furiously at her temples. "Bloody trick always gives me a headache. So, persistent memory charm, lovely. Who or what am I supposed to be forgetting..." finding the small metal focus of the spell, a twisted bronze Knut, she vanished it along with the dust on top of that bookshelf. "Seems to have been the last of the surprises."
Tonks shuffled into her bathroom, and opened her muggle medicine cabinet. Her father being muggleborn was a benefit an a lot of ways, to her line of work. The paranoia muggles put into all things aided her immeasurably in being an Auror. Rifling through the odd outdated and sometimes empty makeup bottle, and a few that contained potions of various sorts, she pulled out a simple black plastic disk.
"Pensieve access huh? Here's hoping I know what's going on..." Opening the simple compact, Tonks sighed and looked at the empty space a puff would reside. In it's place, a second mirror sat, this one appearing somewhat cloudy. Speaking a pass phrase, silvery strands of memory pooled on it's surface, which she bound up and gathered with the tip of her wand. Placing the tip to her temple, she shuddered and shook for long moments, as the memories rewound themselves into her mind.
With a deep breath, Tonks opened her eyes and snapped the compact shut. "Old fucker needs to realize who he's dealing with," she murmured viciously, collecting a small duffel which she packed with necessities, shrunken to save space. As she packed, she pulled out two letters, each of which she sent via muggle means, knowing that their recipients would have access to such. Having expected this event for some time, she grinned at how this would play out.
"Loyalty is a finicky thing, Albus. Be careful who you piss off," grinning maliciously, the Auror stretched again, looking longingly at her bedroom door. "Later," she murmured, nodding.
Finally, she pulled on her own invisibility cloak, not the one the Ministry issued, as well as some dueling robes, enchanted to deflect many minor curses. Packing had been brief, but she had started days ago, after all.
Her apartment looked very tidy, so much so one would doubt it was lived in... snickering, Tonks took one final look around, and closed the door behind her, a note to her landlord with her door key in the envelope, slid under his door. One final thing to do, she banished and undid her wards, smiling sadly at all the work that had gone into them. With a jaunty tune on her lips, she hummed as she erased the last three years of her life from the wizarding world.
Harry's world was a kaleidescope of headache, sore jaw and what felt like cotton being slowly pulled out of his ears. "Whu..."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," a cool voice utterly devoid of inflection answered him, seemingly from inside his own head. Snapping his gaze up from where his chin had rested on his chest, Harry's vision swam as his headache raged all the more fiercely for the sudden action.
Looking around the small room, as it did appear to be such, rather than a dank cave he'd feared it'd be, Harry noted the utter lack of any defining... anything. The table was plain metal. Same color as the floor. His chair. The walls, the lights, the large obviously one-way glass and even his interrogator, all were the same color.
Harry decided he hated steel gray at that moment. More so even than Killing Curse green.
"You may notice that you're bound to that chair. That is for your own protection, till the interview process is complete," the... being, in the gray cloak spoke, and for the life of him, Harry had no idea if it was male of female. It's tone was perfect neutral, and he cold see neither sign of broad shoulders, or breasts from what he could tell of the person.
Harry felt at his jaw with his tongue and started, stifling a curse. Whatever happened between being a the Dursley's and where he was, it had dislodged a tooth... "Where am I?" he asked quietly, knowing no one would answer truthfully, if at all.
The figure across from him straitened, then seemed to shrug. "Somewhere that none who know you, can find you."
Sighing, Harry tested his bonds and found them strong, as well as simple. He'd could be kept here a long time before they'd need to move him. Banging his head against the chair that held him in place, he glared at his captor, or one of his captors he had to admit, and waited.
"Quite done testing our hospitality? Good." The question was asked without pause, and the figure answered in the same breath. Reaching into the robes it wore, the figure brought out a folder and a number of pictures. Laying them out, Harry noticed they were normal wizarding pictures, all of people he knew, or had people in the pictures with him. He stifled a moan as he realized almost all the Order, and all the DA were pictured. "Identify those pictured," the voice commanded.
"No."
Smiling the figure shrugged again and pulled a wand. "If you refuse, I pick one, and either they die, or you die. Which shall it be?"
"Leave them alone – kill me."
Pausing, the figure nodded once and removed the pictures, much to Harry's confusion. As he watched, the figure pulled a single picture from his stack, and Harry groaned audibly this time. "What is your relationship to this woman?"
"She's a friend, we talk," He grated, watching himself and Tonks sit and chat on the bench at 4 Privet Drive. "What do you want with me?"
The figure shrugged again, and seemed to settle back in the cloak a bit further. "We have need of you. As for details; in time all will be made clear." The figure tapped the image of Tonks impatiently. "What else of this one."
Harry managed to collect the saliva to spit at the hooded figure, only to have a shield snap into place and his efforts wasted. "Never," he snarled, settling back in his chair with a rattle of metal on metal.
Nodding, the figure seemed to grow thoughtful, before it leaned closer, seeming to inspect him. "We know of your Prophecy. We know of your past, of your friends, of your Order. We know your hand alone, as it says, will defeat the Dark Lord. We would ask your help, in understanding how, and when, his downfall shall be."
Fairly goggling at the figure, Harry could barely put the words to mind, that this wasn't one of Voldemort's followers or Death Eaters. Assessing the room he was in Harry had to admit, it didn't seem at all like something Voldemort would ascribe to. "Who are you people?" he asked again, calmer this time.
"We were never here, and you didn't see us."
Blinking, Harry looked down but his head snapped back up almost in the same motion. "Unspeakables?"
The figure nodded, raising a pale, thin hand to ward off his questions. "Understand. We are not part of your Ministry. The Department of Mysteries is autonomous. We must be, as we are far too integrated to muggle observation, and the maintenance of the Veil and the transits to Azkaban. We are the Ferrymen. The facilitators. We are also those that are called on to do, that which wasn't done."
Brow furrowing at this last claim, Harry leveled a curious expression at his captor. "That last bit, what do you mean?"
"The Unspeakables are also those that the Ministry comes to, when things that must be done, cannot be claimed. It allows the Minister to maintain the moral right."
"I don't understand. So you're part of the Ministry, but not? But you work for them, doing things they can't claim?" Shaking his head, Harry simply closed his eyes, hoping this was all a nightmare somehow. "Why me?"
"To answer the first question, we do so because we must. We are bound to our duty, and cannot deviate. The Ministry requires what we offer, and this is the agreement. In time... it shall become clearer." The figure seemed to collect itself after this, and continued. "As for your second question. It was because you needed to be here." Another photo was produced and the figure tapped it impatiently. "This man. What is he to you?"
Restraining himself, Harry took a deep breath before continuing. "A chess player. Manipulative, possibly maliciously so. He's too good to be caught out. I seem to have trouble escaping him," Harry admitted, staring at the calm face of Albus Dumbledore, from the picture.
The figure nodded, and produced a single sheet of parchment, and a blood quill. "If you would like us to protect you from him, and from the spies of Voldemort, sign this. You will not be admitted to the ranks of the Unspeakables, but we will ward you. Offer you training to assist in your task, and point you in the direction of more training, for you goal."
Harry sat incredulous, apparent now that all the other questions were simply a kind of test. "Why," he asked, shaking his head. "Why pick me?"
The cloaked figure seemed to draw it self taller, looming over the young man. "Because, some of us believe in you, without need of a Prophecy."
Cowed, Harry straitened slowly as the figure waited. "And if I refuse...?"
"We send you back to Dumbledore."
Heaving a sigh, Harry motioned to his hand and the bonds were released almost immediately. "Where do I sign?"
The figure indicated the few places he had to sign the magically binding contracts, ones familiar to him already. "A Fidelis, and a Geis. Well, in for a Knut..." sliding the paperwork, now signed across the table, he waited as the cloaked Unspeakable looked over them, signing as well carefully. "Now what?"
"Now you get to unpack, and I show you around the digs," a familiar voice chirped from beneath the hood.
Harry peered closely, a the figure reached up suddenly, pulling the hood back and breaking the obscuring spell on her heart shaped face. "Wotcher Harry!"
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, slipped back into the blessed darkness of unconsciousness, with one small thought echoing quietly to keep him company. "Damned woman will be the death of me."