In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 114: Untracked
Tuesday morning, Hermione apparated with Harry, Ron, and Gia, into the living room of Fred and George.
"I'll cook," Harry offered, went into the kitchen.
"Where is everybody?" Ron asked as he reached for an unsent letter addressed to him.
Hermione leaned over the table, The Daily Telegraph open, the clipped article from the corner.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Body Washes up Along Thames
A mutilated body was found east of the Thames Barrier along the shore. The man was described as being in his early twenties with red hair, his identity is being withheld pending notification of his family. Persons knowing information regarding this matter are requested to contact Scotland Yard.
A frown to Ron's face, one that spoke the news before speaking, the fingers that trembled on a letter.
"It's Percy's," Ron said, reading a letter, "That's where they are."
Hermione reached, her hand to Ron's back, went down the spine, leaned against his right shoulder. Harry stepped over fast, his right hand to Ron's left shoulder, the green eyes at Ron.
"We can skip Hogwarts," Harry said, "Pop off to Dumbledore, apologize, and return."
"I want us to get the bastards who did this," Ron growled.
"If you're sure of that," Harry said.
Harry returned to the kitchen, flipped the cauldron cakes.
"Not like it was a surprise," Ron said.
"It's your family we're talking about," Harry said.
Gia carried the cauldron over to the table, the one with the bacon, the fried eggs, and cauldron cakes. Hermione sat, used the butter and blackberry jam, ate into the cakes. Harry popped his pills, sat across from her. Ron sighed.
"Eat," Hermione reminded Ron.
A glare. Harry smirked, continued eating. Ron grabbed at the bacon with a fork, ate into it. Hermione heard it, the scrubbing of the pan in the sink, the same charm Mrs. Weasley would always use. Gia ate into the eggs. Harry finished, went over, crouched at the trunk, sorted through it.
"Don't see any book–bags," Harry said, "Guessing our homework's all toast. Our meager possessions—mostly whatever's in this trunk."
Harry pulled out parchment, stuffed that into his hip pocket.
"Have to see if we can expand these pockets," Harry said.
"Told you—backpacks," Hermione said.
"And risk leaving those behind?" Harry said.
Gia carried the dishes into the sink as Hermione drank the juice.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
Hermione held onto Harry's hand, as did Ron. Gia leaned in from his back, arms around him that held Harry's stomach. Harry closed his eyes, the focus behind them. Hermione felt the disapparation, the tightness.
…
Harry apparated into Professor McGonagall's office. Harry's wand twitched fast as the disillusionment went over the four of them. Ahead, Professor Snape stood with his back to them; while Professor McGonagall was at her desk, those eyes focused through her square glasses at Professor Snape.
"These scheduling irregularities get difficult to plan around," said Professor Snape.
"Do not worry, it'll be returning to an ordinary schedule," Professor McGonagall said, "With all the attendees and headaches that entails. Perhaps, for a taste, Mr. Potter, please."
Harry released the disillusionment charm on himself, stepped toward the desk, the dark eyes did not attempt to conceal their hatred. Harry's bottle green eyes reminded the man of Lily, his black hair and stature reminded of James, touched a childhood jealousy this man had yet to relinquish.
"An ability to sneak through a locked door can lead to suspicions," said Professor Snape.
"What's the price on my head?" Harry said, "As the person who set it shares my dormitory, it's safer to arrive directly into this office. Cuts down on the paperwork."
Harry kept his eyes onto Professor Snape's.
"Any student may use the Floo Powder to arrive into the Entrance Hall," Professor Snape said.
"Aw, news to me," Harry said, "How safe is that—really?"
"Should I mention your lack of school uniform?" Professor Snape sneered.
"Patience," said Professor McGonagall.
"With what?" Harry said, "My wardrobe's destroyed, and I've got no replacements as I can't walk into Madam Malkin's to get any."
"Excuses for your failure," Professor Snape said.
"Severus," Professor McGonagall said, "This is a matter for the house of Gryffindor to sort."
"Do not advertise my survival," Harry said to the man.
Professor Snape turned, left. Ron, Hermione, and Gia came out of disillusion.
"As to dormitories here at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, "Those have been reassigned. I hope this softens your plight."
Harry studied her.
"Come," Professor McGonagall said, "I'll show you first, and afterwards, the Headmaster wishes to see you."
Harry applied his disillusionment to himself, Gia. Ron and Hermione did the same. They followed Professor McGonagall out of her office, up to the seventh floor corridor. Halfway along, Sir Cadogan's portrait was along the wall. Professor McGonagall's wand out, tapped, and the painting opened to show the portrait hole.
"A password?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Sparky," Harry said.
"Sir Cadogan, get that?" Professor McGonagall said, "Harry Potter has the authority to change the password."
Harry entered, the large bed to the right, the fireplace to the left, a shower behind it, the desks next to the window, a dining table closer to the door, and sofas in the middle to the fireplace.
"Remodeled into temporary quarters after the incident two months ago," Professor McGonagall said, "This room is now assigned the Quarantine dormitory, because I deem the troubles plaguing you to be contagious. This means that you, Harry Potter, will share this dormitory with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger until your trouble are sorted. You may have guests, spend the night, at your discretion, unless you're suspended at which point, you'll still be required to leave the castle."
Harry nodded.
"If it's logistically easier," Professor McGonagall said, "You may store your trunk here."
Harry reapplied the disillusionment charm, followed her out the door, back along the corridors. Gia, Ron, and Hermione walked with him.
"We've had to adjust to the new reality," Professor McGonagall said as they reached the second floor Stone Gargoyle.
"Get Ginny," Harry said, "If she's not already at home, she needs to be."
Harry stepped onto the stairs with Gia, Ron and Hermione. Stepped off and entered the Headmaster's office, the desk empty.
"I'll move the trunk," Harry said.
A thought, Harry disapparated, apparated back into the living room of Fred and George Weasley.
"Harry," said Arthur Weasley.
"I heard," Harry said as he turned to the man, "Sorry, totally sorry. This war's cutting a lot of people short." Harry's mind mulled over the names. "My parents—twenty one?"
"Without a war," Arthur said, "A hundred years is over the hill, two hundred with some care."
Harry reached for his trunk.
"Next time you're searched," Harry said, "This won't be here. See you."
Harry disapparated, apparated into the quarantine dormitory, and set the trunk beneath the desk. Another thought, he disapparated, apparated into the Headmaster's office as Dumbledore's lift carried him down the steps.
"First I am pleased to your survival," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry bowed, waited for the man to sit in his familiar chair.
"While it would be fruitless given the systematic destruction of about every property in the Potter Family Trust," the Headmaster said, "I was expecting a need for direction."
"I figured it out," Harry said.
Harry studied the eyes, the ones that twinkled in an attempt to elicit the information.
"Nowhere," Harry said.
"That is an unacceptable response," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry kept the glare up, heard the breathing of Ron and Hermione, spotted Gia tending to Fawkes. He heard the footsteps, knew it to be Professor McGonagall's.
"I do not have a residence outside Hogwarts," Harry said, "I—we are homeless."
"That will have to be remedied," Professor McGonagall said.
"With whom?" Harry spun to her, "Muggle house destroyed. Mine flattened along with the death of two House Elfs, two owls, and a cat. Weasley's? Not a far stretch. Where?"
Harry turned back to the Headmaster.
"I am being hunted," Harry said, "I no longer wish to take on a permanent residence anywhere, it's too vulnerable."
"Where have you stayed since Friday?" Professor Dumbledore asked, "Where will you stay tonight?"
"Two nights in America, one in Spain, last night in Portugal," Harry said, "Tonight—depends if I'm suspended. If I am—I don't know yet, and that's the point."
Harry turned, as Professor McGonagall focused at the desk.
"Albus," Professor McGonagall said, "You can't be thinking of endorsing this? We can certainly do something."
"At what cost?" Harry said, "I'm tired of sacrificing good lives to the monsters after me. Staying on the run makes it damn difficult for Voldemort or anybody else to find us."
"Mind giving me an edge?" the Headmaster asked as he handed over packages, "Slip them in—somewhere, replaces the mail cauldron."
Harry opened it, a pocket, one that he slipped within his dragon hide hip pocket. Ron, Hermione, and Gia did the same. Footsteps that entered.
"There was a young Weasley waiting to be let in," Professor Snape said, "Surely she was mistaken so I sent her to class."
Professor McGonagall left. Professor Snape set down a flask of a yellow chalky liquid goo. The Headmaster lifted the flask, his eyes that peered through it, toward a candle, and set it back down.
"Desperate times breed desperate measures," the Headmaster said, "However, this decision is yours alone, because, in good faith, I cannot force it upon any of you."
"That took months to brew," Professor Snape said, "But not long enough to make it reversible."
"After the bounties it became clear the urgent nature of this—those mines, doubly so," Professor Dumbledore said, "This potion will mask your magical life presence, it will render you untrackable to all locator charms, forever. Owls, House Elfs, or any other magical device, potion, will be unable to find or record your location."
Harry glanced at Professor Snape's dark eyes, the ones that didn't hide the loyalty to the Headmaster over this, the request, and the man brewed it. Harry turned his eyes back to Professor Dumbledore.
"Not something to be taken lightly," Professor Dumbledore said, "In fact, I think you'd be the only ones alive to have taken this, aside from Mr. Riddle."
"Nobody else?" Hermione asked, "Not even Harry's parents?"
"I did not have access to a competent potions master," Professor Dumbledore said, "Even if I did, usually warding is sufficient. However, it's clear that will no longer suffice."
"Those devices?" Harry asked.
"Will not find you by locator methods," Professor Dumbledore said, "Does not eliminate using other means, such as observation."
"I'll do it," Harry said.
"I repeat," the Headmaster said, "Once taken, it's permanent, forever untrackable, whether that's for good or evil. Your need, though, is obviously dire."
Harry nodded, Ron and Hermione nodded, and Gia nodded. The Headmaster brought out four sheets of parchment, handed them over.
"Read them," the Headmaster said, "The decision is yours, you can turn around and I'll lock this in the cabinet."
"Other ways?" Ron asked.
"There are," Professor Dumbledore said, "None as certain or final as this measure would be."
Harry read the form, reiterated what the Headmaster had said.
"Once you take it," the Headmaster said, "You will need to designate a mail drop point, which will be on the record. I'd recommend here, at Hogwarts, where it'd continue as it has been, however, you're free to change it now or at any other time."
Harry signed the parchment, and took the cup with a dose from Professor Dumbledore.
"Snape brewed it," Harry said, "Could be poisoned.
"If it is," Professor Dumbledore said, "You'd have sufficient time to execute him as a traitor."
Harry drank the foul yellow substance, waited the moment. Ron, Hermione, and Gia did the same.
"I'm fine," Harry said to Professor Snape, "You may leave."
The Headmaster nodded, and Professor Snape's robes billowed as he left. Ginny, the red hair, the blue eyes, entered the office.
"What's going on?" Ginny asked.
Harry focused on her.
"Percy's remains were found," Harry said.
Harry caught Ron's glare.
"Thought family meant something to you," Harry said.
"I suggest the Weasleys focus on their more pressing matters," Professor Dumbledore said, "Classes can be missed."
"Take Gia with you," Harry said to Ron.
Harry leaned in, kissed Gia.
"You're safer not traveling this castle," Harry said, "See you tomorrow."
Harry pointed to his wrist, glanced at Ron, who nodded. Gia went with Ron and Ginny, to the fireplace. A puff of green, they vanished.
"We'll go and get our schedules," Harry said.
"One moment," Professor Dumbledore said as he stood.
Hand that trembled, the slow tap of the cane to the armchairs near the fireplace. Harry understood, went over, sat across from the Headmaster. Harry crossed his legs after he sat. Hermione sat to Harry's right.
"Did you manage breakfast?" Dumbledore asked.
"Wouldn't mind a second course," Harry said.
A wave of the wand, some sandwiches, and Harry took one, ate to taste the tuna salad.
"Tuna's better grilled," Harry said.
"Found one curious thing in the debris," Professor Dumbledore said, "It certainly insisted on being returned."
The hand that trembled, pulled out a light brown outback hat from the pocket. Professor Dumbledore fluffed it open, handed it to Harry.
"I will wish to borrow it come September first," Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes that twinkled.
"It outsmarted the Minister," Harry said as he put the hat into his dragon hide hip pocket, "Think Ron used it at the Ministry."
The Headmaster sighed, the eyes that took in both Harry and Hermione.
"Think we can agree that your education at Hogwarts is a bit rough as of late," the Headmaster said, "Even when you're here, it's…lackluster at best."
Harry sighed.
"You have challenges that match or exceed that of Aurors," Professor Dumbledore said, "None of your classmates, not even seventh years, require the use of invisibility to traverse Hogwarts without incident. Therefore, I have pulled you from all your classes."
Hermione gasped.
"You've been reassigned, including Mr. Weasley," said Professor Dumbledore, "I will supervise and oversee your training, education, personally; assisted by those instructors you would consider an ally."
"Snape?" Harry asked.
"Only if I am present," the Headmaster said, "He remains civil in my presence."
"Barely," Hermione muttered.
"I intend to remain flexible in the lesson plan," Professor Dumbledore said, "It can include training of supporters, some practical applications, and if you wish, we can maintain what pace we can during suspensions."
Harry fidgeted.
"We could start with Friday," the Headmaster said, "I am curious to your survival. I was deep in the ruins of the old library of Alexandria when I heard the attack was eminent."
"We got tipped off," Harry said, "Went home, and…couldn't escape."
"A proximity based trap would narrow the list of helpers," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Voldemort was there and I knew the house was basically gone," Harry said, "So, I lit Hermione's collection." Harry described it.
"Interesting," the Headmaster said, "I think Riddle might've helped you."
Harry stood.
"Didn't seem like he was helping," Harry said.
"Intriguing idea," Professor Dumbledore said, "It should've ripped you to shreds."
"Why?" Harry asked as he spun around.
"In the short term," the Headmaster said, "Your life is clearly gaining him something."
"How?" Harry said, "I don't get it. The Harry who quit—Voldemort got rid of him."
Blue twinkling eyes that studied Harry.
"An alternate reality," Harry said, "After some bungled raid into the Ministry for Magic, that Harry quit fighting, let the mess to the Aurors. I watched him die."
"Alas," Professor Dumbledore said, "A bit more of these conversations?"
"Unless…" Harry said, "How the hell would keeping me alive get him Nicolas Flamel's stone? If that were our Voldemort, Neville seemed right."
Harry paced.
"That stone was destroyed," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Not in the past," Harry said, "Before you destroyed it, wide open for the gathering."
"A time turner cannot alter the past," Hermione said, "It lets you view it, but whatever you interact with must remain consistent with the present."
Harry went to the perch, stroked the feathers on Fawkes.
"You know what's going on?" Harry asked the bird.
Harry turned.
"I mean, I know Voldemort wants me gone," Harry said, "Otherwise, why have me executed?"
"Executed?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Harry realized he'd not divulged this either.
"That's what Neville claimed," Harry said, "A Neville of our future, who was in the reality when our future Voldemort got the stone."
"Harry and Ron," Hermione said, "Ron's the only one not upset by it."
"Ron thinks it noble," Harry said, "Can't say he wasn't warned."
"You know how unreliable prophecies and divination can be," Professor Dumbledore said.
"If we're looking for clues," Harry said, "Best to pay attention to them."
Harry sat back down on the chair.
"I don't always know what's not alternate," Harry said, "I do know a grown seventy year old wizard keeps picking on me, a kid."
Harry watched the old man as the eyes mulled over the choice in words.
"If I could put you in a padded box and bait Voldemort into a trap, I would," Professor Dumbledore said, "Except, I'm not capable of killing him, even if I were at full health."
Harry studied the Headmaster.
"Tom Riddle is one who took precautions," the Headmaster said, "At best, I could knock him out for a year or two, give you time to train up. No, in a full sustained attack, Riddle will wear me down. To win, it's what Riddle gave you that night fifteen years ago, that gives you the ability, Harry."
Harry got up again, went to the fireplace. Black soot on the brick, the heat from the coals. Harry turned, felt the heat.
"One discredited idea is that of the horcrux," Professor Dumbledore said, "A splitting of the soul, anchoring it into the mortal realm, which if true, would put a bit of his soul into you."
Harry glanced at Hermione, neither of them sure to any of this. Harry wished he'd gone with Ron.
Ron stepped out of the fireplace with Gia and Ginny. Arthur tapped at the clock.
"Not another…Ron," said Arthur.
A glance to the clock, one that showed the four new hands that dangled loose, pointed downward to the Out–of–Order or Dead category. Ron understood, the new potion inside him.
"Never trust something if you can't see its brains," Ginny said.
"Something like that," Arthur said.
"Where'd Harry's trunk go?" asked Fred.
Ron shrugged.
"So," Ginny said, "We're going to do anything?"
Ron understood, it was now the hurry up and wait bit, wondered how they were getting along at Hogwarts.
Neville stood in the Potions classroom, pressing the pestle through the root in the mortar, while Parvati worked the same with the Knotgrass.
"No sign of Potter or Weasley or Granger!" Finnigan said, "Can we have a holiday?"
Finnigan fingered the Freed Noigate 4 April 1997 batch pinned to his canary yellow, one that matched the one on Dean Thomas and a few others.
"In detention," said Professor Snape.
Neville understood the glare of a perpetually unhappy man. Neville had hoped the picture in the paper was a fabrication.
Hermione listened to the Headmaster. Harry yawned a bit as he stood.
"Excuse me," Harry said, "Can we take a break? Only so much before I lose…concentration."
"Alas," Professor Dumbledore said, "I believe Oliver Wood wanted lunch. Walking there should prove worthy."
"Adsum, simple," Harry said, a statement that didn't work on Hermione.
"Except we drank that potion," Hermione said, "That won't work anymore."
Hermione caught the twinkle in the Headmaster's blue eyes, the one that suggested he appreciated the insight. Harry sighed as he stretched. Harry's green eyes to her, ones that also twinkled as she stood. They went for the door, his wand out and casting the disillusionment on himself; her wand that came to her hand, her casting on the stairs. They stepped off, past the Stone Gargoyle, onto the second floor.
"Don't be seen," Harry whispered.
She watched Harry aim, point his wand along the corridor, the wizard prone and watching, the eyes that twitched, as she trusted him to get this right.
"There," Harry whispered, "All over."
A thin wire laid across the floor, attached to a taught elastic cord. A curse from Harry, the wire vaporized, and a puff of flame above dropped into their way.
"More magic in the corridor," Hermione whispered.
"I care not," Harry whispered, "These traps are dangers to everybody, only protected by their workmanship."
Hermione understood, every one had a detector device, one that'd never trigger again, however, always a chance it wouldn't work as planned. A jug appeared against the wall with the corridor.
"One guess," Harry whispered.
Harry's wand fired, the jug sprayed its contents as the plastic vaporized. Fine flame of that liquid saturated the effigy Harry that dropped down from a noose. Harry's cursing helped it burn to a crisp. Harry renewed his disillusionment, Hermione did the same.
"Not going straight are we?" Hermione whispered.
"I'm tired of this shit," Harry replied.
Both continued, the flicking, the swishing, the flames and arrows of the traps triggered. Hermione's wand triggered a small quake, when they heard it.
"STOP!"
Both turned, Harry pushed Hermione to the side of the corridor. Harry's fingers to the small rib pillar, he climbed up, as Auror Archer's eyes scanned. Curses shot to where Harry had been standing, the shake in the head.
"Bit jumpy," Auror Archer muttered, and he turned around.
Harry jumped down, led the way, their feet that proceeded with care, cleared a snare here, a sword in waiting there.
"All useless," Hermione whispered.
"Obsolete with one swig," Harry said, "Keep the disillusion."
Hermione swished and flicked, her disillusion renewed along the first floor, near the sword that laid flat on a window sill ready for its charge.
"All this corridor magic," Hermione said, "Count your lucky stars I'm not a prefect."
Hermione glanced at Harry more than once as they kept their work up, removed more snares and traps, down to the ground floor. Harry stopped twenty feet short of Wood's office. Harry reached up, brought down the small flat cylinder. Harry opened the tin, the near empty save a black hair in a pearly white marble.
"Useless," Hermione whispered.
Harry grinned and set the tin on the floor. Harry aimed his wand, the tin popped, disintegrated in a puff of hot flame, though a black mark remained on the stone tile beneath where it had been.
"They now have a supply problem," Harry said.
"Planning to clean the entire castle?" Hermione asked, "It'll be good until they adapt and make changes."
"Don't burst my bubble!" Harry snapped.
"Pointing it out," Hermione whispered.
"At least we've got a bit cleared," Harry said.
Harry knocked on Wood's office door.
"Enter!" Wood shouted.
Harry and Hermione stepped into illusion as they entered Wood's office. Wood stood there, to the other side of a table with a few platters of fried foods, chips.
"Ta," Harry said.
"I support—" Wood started.
"Under the table!" Harry snapped, pointed..
Wood leaned to glance underneath it.
"Meant—duck!" Harry said, "Crawl."
Hermione ducked underneath it, Wood did, together. Harry transfigured the chair into a wall, aimed and cursed at the desk tucked into the corner. Hermione peeked, a curser that appeared, and she tucked back in with Oliver and Harry. An explosion, the sparks that went past them.
"That's—" Wood started.
Harry rolled back out, Hermione peeked, the desk on fire. Harry aimed, the water that extinguished the flames.
"Should've warned me," Wood said as he stood, "Teachers are—"
"Incapable!" Harry said, "Sorry, I've had enough. I'm in charge of my own safety, not you, not anybody else!"
Hermione understood before Harry exhaled, the accidental biting the head of a friend. Hermione took the initiative, the food on the table.
"Lunch?" Hermione asked.
"Think it's affected the food?" Harry asked.
Wood reached, took a chicken strip, and ate it. Wood waited the moment. Wood put his hands to his own throat.
"Argh!" Wood said, the fake drop, before he stood back up. "It's alright."
"Not funny," Harry stated, the bottle greens that twitched, fixed at Wood.
Hermione sat first. Harry sat to her left. Wood used the serving spoon, brought some of the chicken strips to his plate, grabbed some sweet and sour sauce, ate into one. Harry began to laden his plate.
"You've earned the reputation for taking the coaches up on their training regimen," Wood said, "Nobody else liked the sound of it."
Though Hermione did more chips on her plate, she paid closer attention to Harry, as he dipped a chicken strip into the brown sauce, and he ate it. He moved onto some chips, worked them. She used the vinegar, ate her fried potato strips.
"Because of our training," Harry said, "We were able wait until the last second—how many people still think we're dead?"
"Heard Finnigan boasting," Wood said.
"You screw up and you lose a match," Harry said, "I screw up, I lose life."
Harry worked a bit on the fish fillet, added the tartar sauce. Hermione dipped her fish fillet into the sauce, ate it.
"Really need that—they called it a seafood sauce," Harry said, "Remember what that was called?"
Hermione shook her head, she hadn't read it. Wood sipped at a soda.
"Different league I suppose," Wood said.
"Flying blind's interesting too," Harry said, "Learning to use your other senses."
"Seems so reckless," Hermione said, the irresponsibility around it, so characteristic of Harry and Ron.
"It's about flying like I can walk or run," Harry said, "No different."
"A volunteer for teaching the next flying lesson?" Wood asked.
"I'd be murdered," Harry said, "Think I'll pass."
Harry kept eating a few more of the fish fillets, the chicken strips, and worked at the basket of chips.
Burp!
"Sorry we missed the Saturday match," Harry said, "Bit…preoccupied."
"It was rough," Oliver Wood said, "Amy tried…well, Tutshill Tornados won."
Hermione pushed her plate aside, her stomach full. Eyes that roamed, Wood's and Harry's, the awkward moment as they all let things settle.
"Well," Wood said, "Until next time."
"Thank you for lunch," Harry said as he stood.
"Ta," Hermione said as she stood.
She noticed Harry's wand out, brought hers out as the disillusion swept Harry. Hers to herself as they left Wood's office.
"Back to—" Hermione started.
"Not that fast," Harry whispered.
They stopped, he turned to her.
"Clear the other way," Harry said.
He watched her.
"In the name of safety," Harry said, "The rest of the castle."
Harry turned, wand out. Mines and devices revealed themselves as they went along. Harry went down the steps, into the dungeon level.
"It's unlikely to have traps or mines down here," Hermione said.
"Being thorough," Harry replied.
They both renewed their disillusion, and stopped at a stone wall. Harry reached into his dragon hide hip pocket, pulled out the worn parchment.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said.
Map came to life, the unnamed fading dots that vanished where Harry and Hermione were standing.
"Muggles are beasts," Harry whispered.
That stone wall moved, they cautiously stepped into the Slytherin common room, heavier on the isolated independent desks and chairs, than the others. A couple of first years walked by; Harry and Hermione ducked to the side, and the stone wall closed.
"No traps in here," Hermione whispered.
"Must check it all," Harry whispered as they went toward one corridor on the right with the boys symbol on it.
Hermione watched Harry hop the stones first. Hermione hopped the stones behind him. One right door after the next, all in order, first than second than third years before they reached the sixth years one.
"Could go in order," Hermione whispered.
Harry reached to the sign, stuck his fingers down it, the door opened.
"Might not be involved," Harry whispered as they entered the room, "He's bound to have a clue to who."
Harry's wand drawn, aimed at the one marked Malfoy. She watched as he conjured and donned some latex gloves. Harry fidgeted on the lock, popped it with his wand. Hermione assisted. Knickers with names on them.
"Pansy's," Harry said.
Harry went through the books, the supplies, the broom within it.
"Ordinary," Harry muttered, "Nothing of interest."
Harry closed it, went to Crabbe's, and repeated the intrusion.
"This'll take a while," Harry grumbled, this one had a few extra bottles of aftershave.
"Wonder why it takes the teachers ages?" Hermione asked.
"It'd be a full day to do these all," Harry said, "A time turner would help."
"Sure," Hermione whispered, "Ask the Ministry to lend you one."
Harry shook his head, the bottle green eyes that paid attention as the fingers closed Crabbe's. Harry moved to Goyle's, repeated the search.
"Gotta do the girls side too," Hermione whispered.
"Shit," Harry grumbled.
One by one, they went through the other trunks in the sixth year's, back out. Over to the seventh year dormitory, and they entered. Again, they went through the trunks, all of them.
"Somebody knows something," Harry said, "Has to."
They went into the fifth years dormitory, where Harry continued to pop the locks, search, closing the locks. Hermione mostly watched, kept her ears peeled.
"Wardrobes, desks," Hermione said, "False decoys."
"Meaning we're after somebody we hope is being careless," Harry said.
They finished the trunks to the fifth years, left, and entered the fourth years dormitory.
"Pretty much that," Hermione said.
Harry worked the trunks, about half of them, when Hermione heard it.
"Somebody's coming," Hermione said.
Harry restored the trunk, stood. His hand to hers, the portkey between them. She felt the jerk behind her naval.
"And that's our day," Harry said.
Kristen pushed Paul along in the stroller, the cool breeze, the light fading as street lamps illuminated the road nearby. Richard shivered as he walked with her, the T–shirt and shorts.
"Should take my jumper," Kristen said, loosening it.
"I'm fine…enough," Richard said.
Jen caught up.
"Wouldn't guess," Jen said, "That dog's back, Harry's dog showed up at the house."
"I'd suggest changing the color of his fur," Kristen said.
"That's…a good idea," Richard said.
Kristen caught it, in the periphery of her vision, the turn of the head, the skull that rose, the lightning bolt on the forehead.
"For a people wanting to remain hidden," Kristen said, "They're doing a lousy job at it."
Kristen handed the stroller to Richard, kissed him, and knew duty called.
Sunshine on Harry and Hermione as they left the hotel Wednesday morning, the canals of Venice before them. A right, along the path above the water, tables outside, Hermione went inside. Inches ahead of him, the gondola on the water that paddled by, a couple with cameras out. Harry took his point and shoot out, aimed it as Hermione walked out.
Click
"Of all people!" Hermione said.
Harry put the camera back into the pocket, and pointed to a table, where they sat. A lady brought out plates on a tray, set them down.
"Different place every day," Hermione said, "It's weird to get used to it."
Harry opened his hip pocket, popped the pills, and worked into his breakfast, the scrambled eggs, the bacon, and the pancakes. He saved the apple slices for last. Hermione worked at her hard boiled egg, the oatmeal.
"Means not having to dodge curses with every bite," Harry said.
Hermione pulled out, kept The Daily Prophet below the table as she read it.
"You're—" Harry started.
"Nothing," Hermione said, the anger that built up behind her eyes, "Finish your breakfast first."
Harry knew it wasn't great.
"Please," Hermione said, "Eat that first."
Harry sighed, was able to override his hesitation until a sliver of the pancake remained. He pushed it aside, held the mug of coffee in his hands.
"What?" Harry asked.
Hermione pulled it out, past the Potter's Victim Remains Found, into the next pages, to the list, Summary of Potter's Activities.
"We definitely get around," Hermione said, "Botswana, Australia, Canada, Japan, Russia, Finland, Denmark, Bulgaria, India, South Africa, Egypt, Mexico, Iceland, and Libya."
"And if they found out we were here…" Harry sighed.
Hermione nodded.
"Potter marks, victims," Hermione said, "Around two strikes a night."
"Why?" Harry said, "He already has the legislation to kill me on a whim, what more could they be after? It doesn't make sense."
"Since when did their methods truly make sense?" Hermione asked.
Harry paused, sipped the coffee, and set the mug aside.
"Even Dumbledore commented on it," Harry said, "Voldemort doesn't want me dead, not today, it's like this campaign's going to continue, to convince them I'm an even bigger menace. Not sure why, the Minister could toss us into Azkaban today, have us kissed, about nobody would protest."
Hermione sipped her juice.
"It's beyond expulsion," Harry said, "Voldemort wants something before ordering our execution. How'd an international scandal get him the stone?"
Hermione went for the letter.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry, Gia, Ron, and Hermione
Padma Patil's remains were discovered yesterday evening in Noigate, Kristen Osborn wants to talk with you, today if possible.
Dumbledore
"We go there," Hermione said.
Harry stood, walked with Hermione. A walk along the canal for a short distance, a turn along paved stone between the buildings, a right into a small garden into the oversized shrubs. Harry's wand out, the disillusionment as he held onto Hermione, the disapparation.
Though temperatures were slightly higher as Harry and Hermione apparated into Noigate outside the police barracks, there was more of chill as there were significant cloud in the sky, one of which blocked the sunshine from them.
"You didn't apparate directly in?" Hermione asked.
"Trying to learn not to," Harry said, "Bad habit."
"Lupin said the same," Hermione said.
They entered the station. Harry spotted it, the blonde haired dog next to Kristen's office. Him and Hermione went through the gate, to the back. Harry petted the dog, after he spotted the name plate on the collar.
"Good boy," Harry said to Snuffles.
Harry entered the office; Gia and Ron already there. Hermione followed when Harry dropped his disillusion. Kristen sat behind her desk, the glint of metal on her collar. Her eyes surveyed the four familiar faces.
"I wasn't certain if your Headmaster would actually send for you," Kristen said, "However, you might have a guess to the matter of interest."
"Padma Patil," Harry said.
"I've already gotten two phone calls and one howler," Kristen said, "Would you anticipate me getting more pressure to skip an investigation and arrest you regardless of the facts?"
Harry nodded.
"As a favor to you, and to me, we should do this by the book," Kristen said, "So, I need answers, and we should do this formally, with standard interrogations."
Harry studied her face, her eyes, spotted Ron's inquiry too.
"You are not under suspicion at this time, you are not obligated," Kristen said, "However, it'd help me reply with answers instead of speculation, which I feel you need. Am I'm getting this right?"
"Yes," Harry said.
"I've made four investigators aware of magic," Kristen said, "I expect you'll have to explain a bit to them, I can get you legal aid if you want."
Harry nodded. Kristen stood.
"This way," Kristen said as she went for the door, "You'll be using all four of our rooms."
Down the corridor, she waved her lanyard at the door's badge reader, and opened it. They went through, blonde furred Snuffles followed them. Ron into the first room, Hermione into the second. A double left, Gia went into a third with Snuffles. Harry went into the last, Kristen in with him.
"I know this is a bit rough and these walls mean nothing to you if you wished to escape," Kristen said to Harry, "Still, I ask you be honest and follow through."
Small grey room, cinder block walls, except the mirror to one side that stretched the longer wall of the room opposite to the door.
"McAshton should be along shortly," said Kristen
"Do not taint the interviewee," came the holler.
Kristen left as a man in his forties, a white shirt and dull red tie, closed the door, and turned toward Harry. He adjusted the earpiece to the ear, the wire that ran up to it from beneath his collar.
"I'm Greg McAshton," said the man, held out a hand.
Harry shook the hand.
"Have a seat," McAshton said.
"I prefer to stand," Harry stated.
McAshton sat at the table, the pad of ruled paper that came out, the pens clipped to it. McAshton took the black pen, wrote out the date.
"Full name?" McAshton asked, "Date of birth?"
"Harry James Potter," Harry said, "31 July 1980."
"Address of residence?" McAshton asked.
"None," Harry said, as he saw the curiosity to that question behind the eyes.
"Do you have any idea to our topic of today?" McAshton asked.
"Padma Patil," Harry said, "Also a student at Hogwarts, my year. She vanished last week, and I understand that she was found dead last night."
"Hogwarts is a school for … magic?" McAshton asked.
Harry took the step, aimed his wand, the swish and flick, the mirror that disillusioned itself to show Kristen, Frank, and Dale on the other side, watching; and beyond was Ron in another first gray room.
"Why don't you join us?" Harry asked to them.
McAshton shook his head. A flick, and Harry aimed at the chair for him. It turned into a bar stool. Harry turned the stool, sat on it, legs wide, and focused to McAshton.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry said, "We'll start with him."
…
Ron watched the man in the late thirties, the brown hair, the dark blue jumper over a light blue T–shirt. Mr. Peters was sitting on the table, Ron leaned back against the mirror.
"Yes," Ron said, "I am a wizard, so we play this game called Quidditch."
"That's football?" Mr. Peters asked.
"Too boring," Ron said, "Seen posters, nothing to it. No, Quidditch has a Quaffle, which gets thrown, two Bludgers, and the Snitch."
…
"I slept with Harry last night," Hermione said to the lady in her thirties, "In Venice."
"Italy?" the lady asked.
"After we lost our home," Hermione said, "Harry decided it's not safe to stay anywhere for long. Don't know the current number—but it's hundreds of thousands of Galleons, well over a million pounds on my head."
…
"Someplace in Algeria last night," Gia said, "Sorry, we didn't think to keep the receipt."
Gia held her hands, glanced at the woman in her forties.
"I know it makes it tough to form alibis," Gia said, "Understand that I've had people kidnap, assault, and attempt to murder me. If any of us draw attention to ourselves, we're dead."
…
"This year," Harry said, "Guess they decided to shake things up, and started a campaign of slander against me. A bad rumor here, a torture curse there, and set me up to take the fall to a dozen killed, bloody, at Hogsmeade—village in Scotland near Hogwarts. After those charges got dropped, some of them took to impersonating me—beating up, raping, that sort."
"All this to frame one teenager?" McAshton asked.
"Voldemort wants me dead on his terms," Harry said, "Strip me of support first, make me a martyr. I'm missing something, but I know it'll end with my execution, and he'll get whatever he's seeking."
…
"Should've seen it," Ron said, "Flew fifty miles according to my brothers, and Harry apparated us out of it."
"That's—?" Mr. Peters asked.
"A curse and I'm somewhere else," Ron said as his stomach growled.
Ron stood, the swish and flick, he disapparated. He apparated to the fish and chips shop, stepped up to the counter.
"Got salmon?" Ron asked.
"Cod," the man behind it said.
"Go with that," Ron said, "And…" He grabbed a soda.
"Sure," the man said.
Ron opened his wand holster, pulled out a fiver, handed it over. He took the styrofoam dish, in a plastic sack, added in the tubs of vinegar, the ketchup, and tartar sauce. Ron left the shop, the swish and flick, he disapparated, apparated.
"Suppose I should've asked," Mr. Peters said.
Ron set it down on the table, sat, and ate.
"Figured it best not to starve," Ron said.
…
Kristen watched Ron work the food.
"I'll give you that Ronald chose to come back," Dale Tate said.
"Only respect and manners keeps them in there," Kristen said, "No, you don't mother teenagers for months without getting a clue to their personalities."
Kristen's seen enough to know what Harry's personality inspires.
…
Hours had passed, Harry was still in the room. McAshton's eyes to Harry on the stool.
"Have you ever killed somebody?" McAshton asked, "Deliberately on your part?"
Harry stood and paced, leaned against the wall.
"Yes—in defense of those in my charge," Harry said, "Price on my head and my friends is over ten million pounds—that attracts all sorts of people wanting to cash in. Take Lisa Shoreham."
"The accident three weeks ago?" McAshton asked.
"That's right—they wiped your bloody memories!" Harry said, "That attacker's machete had already beheaded Lisa and was…I didn't even have the blink of an eye. I killed that man to protect Gia."
…
Ron glared at Kristen, within the room between the glass of the mirrors.
"Don't go down this road," Ron said to her, "It's taken me months to get Harry to stop blaming himself for the actions of madmen!"
Kristen's and Frank's eyes on the red haired teenage boy that stood there.
"Got madmen impersonating, killing in his name, and he can't stop it," Ron said, "What'd you do? The quickest way?"
Kristen's eyes that began to understand.
"I've lost count," Ron said, "We're trying to lead him to fight the madman, because that's the only way there's hope for any of us."
Frank watched Ron too. Ron glanced at Harry beginning to slump against the wall.
"Harry is the only one capable of taking him out," Ron said, "That's why the madman's framing him up, that's why you're involved, because Harry tried to hide away, hope it'd all blow over, but instead it's gotten way, way worse."
A moment more in her mind.
"Greg," Kristen said into the microphone, "Stop it."
"We'll want more," Frank said.
"Some other time," Ron said, "My first task."
Ron disapparated, apparated into the room next to Harry, lifted him up. Another focus, the disapparation. Apparation into the room with Hermione.
"Come," Ron said to her, the lady that seemed perplexed.
Hermione held Ron. Another disapparation, apparation into the room with Gia.
"What's going on?" Gia asked.
"Red head," Harry grumbled.
Ron activated the Portkey, Gia, Hermione, and Harry held on. Jerk behind the naval, they left.
…
"You're not stopping them," Frank said, "They want to go, they go."
"We are the tip of this iceberg," Kristen said.
Snuffles, the blonde haired dog, walked around them. Kristen wondered if Ron was right or not.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024