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Perhaps my greatest chapter. Even before Digitize27 began to edit. They kindly agreed to Beta read my chapters. They have, by far, improved upon my prose in a style that blends well with my own.
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In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate" -Asimov
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Grindelwald looked out over the frigid sea before him, as he had a million times before. His one view out of his one window in his tiny cell was the same as ever. It remained static, unchanged, while his body fell prey to the adamant march of time. Once rich and thick hair had fallen from his head, his teeth rotted out. He had no mirror, but he could imagine his sickly appearance. Imagine it enough to compare it to the memory of his younger self.
He sat hunched on his bed with his chin held up, eyes held straight even as they shook.
Powerful and decrepit.
His cell was filthy and so was he. A filthy lord of darkness imprisoned in his own tower. Trapped beneath enchantments he himself had woven. He felt rage, but it was so far away. Muted not only by time, but by futility.
Dumbledore.
He had lost.
Dumbledore.
He cursed again.
Dumbledore.
He repeated in his head.
Dumbledore.
He was betrayed.
Albus.
His friend had turned on him. Left him and everything he could have been, everything he had envisioned, to rot in this blasted tower.
And rot he had. Fungus thrived across the moist stonework and his earliest attempts to remain clean and apart from it had been doomed to failure. He had given up on that, too.
He knew his mind decayed, could feel it. Perhaps the knowledge of his own dilapidation was just as much a burden as the sickness itself. He fell into ruin.
He was alone, like he had been before he met his friend. He had spent his life out-matching others. His peers in Durmstrang could not compete with him. They could not understand him.
He had been alone there, too.
But then he met his friend, somebody who could stand beside him.
He thought of the girl who died in Godric's hollow. The girl Albus' brother had loved and whom Albus himself had loathed.
The murdered girl.
Her death had taken everything from him. Split his one and only relationship apart at the seams. His dreams had been shattered. He looked around his room, no larger than a cupboard. The sky had turned dark.
Sleep, then.
In sleep, at least, there was no boredom. He was dying, he knew. Sleeping his remaining years away.
He had believed that the new one, Voldemort would come for him. Not to free him with any offer of partnership or any such nonsense. But for his knowledge. To learn from him. But, he hadn't.
It was a different kind of betrayal but, like everything he felt now, it was a distant thing and he almost felt as betrayed by this 'Voldemort' as he had by Dumbledore. His knowledge, it seemed, would freeze with him in this prison. He had been a great wizard who knew more about conjuration, charms, and transfiguration in all the world, save one. His equal.
He had never attempted to escape his tower. He knew it was pointless. He had built this place brick by brick and enchanted it from the ground up. His palace was impenetrable and, when the Germans came to ensure that there were no weaknesses in the structure, they had been incinerated or pulverized.
This place was his home.
Death would have been preferable.
This place was his tomb.
Albus however, in all his laudable cruel mercy, had allowed him to live.
He curled up on his bed. It was a single mold-ridden mattress with a thin blanket.
It was just as frozen as he was.
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Harry's summer at the Longbottoms' had been spent well. He opened his window to receive Hedwig, whom he fed treats from his hand while he took the proffered letter. There, outside, on the windowsill, on the second story, was Trevor the Toad. Harry shut the window, ignoring the improbable amphibian, to open his letter.
He had received his Outstanding NEWT in muggle studies from the ministry, as he knew he would after going through the appropriate channels within the education department.
It was merely his first, and it hadn't taken any appreciable effort. It felt cheap in his hands when he held it. He scowled and pushed it aside.
"Harry! Harry, did you see the news?" It was Neville knocking at Harry's door while Harry sat cross legged on his bed reading. Harry gestured, and the door swung open.
Neville rushed through in its wake, holding up a copy of the daily prophet. The front line read in clear bold:
MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.
Harry looked at Neville. He quickly gestured for Harry to open the paper.
PETER PETTIGREW REMAINS AT LARGE
Harry looked at Neville. The boy deflated slightly.
"Peter Pettigrew, Harry," the boy sighed.
"Who is he?" Harry asked.
"He's Death Eater, a loyal one."
"So…"
"So, he's going to try and kill you! Here, read."
Harry accepted the parchment and turned it in his hands. He skimmed it lightly, not knowing what he was supposed to be getting excited, or from Neville's less-than-subtle insinuations, frightened about.
Harry handed it back after a moment.
"Why would he try to kill me?" Harry asked as he did so. There was nothing in it to indicate any kind of agenda, no motive no murder.
"Because he's loyal to You-Know-Who, Harry. He could-"
"I'm not Voldemort's enemy though."
Neville gave him a perplexed look. "You stopped him."
"...When I was a baby. With no magical powers. In a freak accident."
Neville seemed to pause. "What about at first year?"
"I was there by accident, and Pettigrew couldn't know that."
Neville hesitated. His mind was reaching for something he could say to counter the other teen. Harry turned back to his book.
"Sorry Neville. I doubt he'll be hunting for me in-particular."
"So… it doesn't bother you that he's free?"
"Well…"
Neville leaned forward in interest.
"-It does mean that Azkaban is less secure than I believed."
"You're an odd wizard, Harry," Neville sighed. "Well, it seems someone in the ministry believes Pettigrew would be interested in you, or at least Hogwarts."
Harry looked up, blinking.
"Wait, why?"
Neville turned back towards Harry's door, already making his way back out.
"Well, they're stationing the Dementors at Hogwarts."
Harry blanched at that, at a complete loss for words.
"Oh, uh, Happy Birthday, Harry."
Harry grinned back, his smile stretching across his face. He gestured to a package on his desk. It sat next to a neat stack of summer homework. "That's for you, Happy Birthday Neville." It was just a book on selective breeding in magical plants.
Neville frowned. "I was wondering why my remembrall was turning red, I forgot to get you anything-"
Harry interrupted him with a laugh, waving him off. "Don't worry about it, Neville."
Neville laughed nervously and picked up the package before departing.
Harry let the smile drop from his face, rubbing his jaw with his thumb and closing his book on intermediate magical theory to instead flick open his journal. He made a mental note to return to Diagon Alley and practice his Legilimency on any passers-by and marked down an idea he had when he thought about the book he gave Neville.
Could the same muggle plant hybridization processes be applied to magical ones?
That would be… important. Not necessarily revolutionary, but it could reduce the prices of magical ingredient, make potions cheaper, and perhaps lower some costs for medical treatments.
It was interesting. The sort of thing that wouldn't quite rival Dumbledore's achievements but…
Harry needed to read more.
He turned his attention to another letter.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.
Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.
A list of books for next year is enclosed.
Yours sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry found his permission slip. He set it aside to leave out for Madam Longbottom to sign. He assumed that she could, or he would have to prevail on his true guardian to do it.
Harry had no other letters. His friends could always contact him by mirror if they wished to talk to him. Harry had already been informed by Daphne that he would be joining her in Diagon Alley tomorrow for school shopping.
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Neville had to run into to Diagon Alley to pick up a gift for Harry. It was a sneakoscope. A cheap magical device designed to whirl when it was around someone untrustworthy. Naturally, it shrieked constantly around Harry who practically lived within the private thoughts of others. Neville delivered it before chasing after his grandmother. She had been persuaded by some reading material she had seen that it would be for the best if Neville had his own wand.
By that, Harry meant he had slowly influenced her mind over the summer that Neville needed his own wand. It was true. Neville could never reach his full talent with an imperfectly-matched wand.
Meanwhile, Harry escaped to the muggle world to pick up a book on the changes made to muggle plants over the past century. He had received an odd glance from the cashier when he rang up the purchase, but Harry had practise ignoring such looks.
That left Harry loitering in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Daphne to join him. He glanced down at his watch. He was early enough that it was still half an hour before their agreed upon time.
He took a seat and glanced at his watch again but not for the time. He made an absent note to enchant it to do something more than tell time.
Harry waited patiently until three blonde heads walked into the Leaky Cauldron. It was Daphne, who smiled at him, her mother, and her little sister.
It would be her sister's first year.
Harry recalled.
"Hello," he greeted politely.
Daphne rolled his eyes at him and, though he longed to know what she was thinking, he stayed his metaphorical hand.
"Hello again, Mr. Potter. Daphne has told us so much about you." Ms. Greengrass was beautiful and polite. It was a familiar game for Harry to be polite to his elders.
"More like she wouldn't shut up." Astoria crossed her arms and gave him a look.
Harry picked up his book in its bag.
"You started without, me?" Daphne asked indignantly.
Harry shook his head. "It's not for school."
"One of these projects Daphne mentioned?" Ms. Greengrass looked curious. The elder Greengrass was a potioneer and most likely the source of Daphne's talent for the subject. When Mr. Greengrass passed she'd had little choice but to pick up any job she could, but the woman was truly a potioneer at heart.
"Perhaps." Harry returned thumbing his jawline. "I need to read more to even continue to consider it."
The woman nodded before gesturing. "Come on, we need to pick up my Little Star's wand first." Astoria blushed in embarrassment as her mother used a pet name.
"Oh… I was hoping Harry and I could go do our shopping now." Daphne got out nervously.
"You're not coming with your sister to get her first wand?" Ms. Greengrass looked surprised.
"I don't need her there," Astoria piped up.
"It's not about need, it's about going as a family." The woman worried her lip the same way Daphne did as she either struggled with the decision, or struggled with how to let Daphne down about it.
"I don't want to get in the way," Harry interjected. "I can wait while Astoria gets a wand."
Daphne gave him a betrayed look while her mother looked sheepish. "Are you sure?" She asked.
Harry nodded. "I'll just wait here."
Daphne sighed and was marched off with her family with barely a backwards glance. Harry took his seat again. He considered opening his book, but he knew as soon as he started studying seriously Daphne would get back and he'd have to shift focus.
A hag approached him offering what looked like a full plate of raw meat. Liver, at a guess. Harry stiffly turned her down and a shout from Tom sent her from the bar.
Daphne's family returned with Astoria waving her wand. Harry found he couldn't recognize the wood by sight. He frowned. He needed to do some reading about that.
"Come on Harry," Daphne said as soon as she returned. "We need to get you some new robes."
Harry stood, picking his stuff up. It was true; he did need new robes. He had grown three inches over the summer, and the ones he was wearing didn't fit very well.
"Stay safe you two," Ms. Greengrass informed them as they left. "And not a single step down Knockturn Alley!"
Daphne wrung her hands slightly as they walked. He wasn't the only one to grow over the summer, and she was almost taller than him now. He eyed her hands. She was nervous about something.
Harry was immediately set on edge. He was tempted to poke her brain to learn what was bothering her, but he wasn't sure how far she had progressed with her exercises. She might immediately detect him and, if what he remembered about her mind was right, she wouldn't take too kindly to that.
"Is Tracey going to join us?" He asked.
She glanced away into Quality Quidditch Supplies, where the new firebolt hung in the front window.
"No… it's just me," she replied, getting Harry to nod. "I told my mom how many classes you were taking and how many extracurricular classes you had elected for. She was worried you were going to be overwhelmed."
It was possible. The extracurricular classes mostly involved presenting projects at the end of the year to certain teachers, with certain specialized guidelines that were designed to allow teachers to monitor a student's self education. Harry would have several of them to do this year.
Harry shrugged. "I'll keep up, I think."
"Well you are so far ahead in our core classes." She paused. "Plus, you have the advantages of Occlumency and Augeomancy."
He nodded. It was true. His memory was, he assumed, well above average due to his inclination towards the subtler magical arts.
"I've been practicing those exercises from the list you gave me," Daphne blurted uncharacteristically. "I cleared my mind at night before bed and whenever I was feeling any strong emotions."
She wants to practice Occlumency, then.
"You're not doing it now," Harry returned. "You seem nervous."
She almost glared at him but instead focused on doing just that. It took her a while, and they had reached Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions by the time she succeeded.
"It's alright," Harry reassured her. "It's not easy and you seem distracted." Of course, she would be much more distracted if an attacker was rooting around inside her head.
She pulled several robes off the racks and held them out for him to try on and, after nearly half an hour getting in and out of robes, he left with a new wardrobe which could fit his growing form better. Harry briefly described the project he was considering, and Daphne told him about several changes she wanted to make to the room when they got back. She was confident that they could change the room to cause a secret passageway to form to somewhere else in the castle, but Harry remained dubious.
"The Castle likes to shift and change. It's magic will do most of the work. We just have to push it in the right direction."
"Or the ambient magic will resist our attempts to change it." Harry pointed out.
They swung by the book store and left with several armfuls of books before taking a seat at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. It was there that Daphne finally asked him the question which had been bothering her.
"Do you think I'm ready? For the occlumency lessons?"
Harry thought it was appropriate not to patronise her and agree out right, and so he gave it a moment of serious thought. "You took a while to bring your emotions under control today."
"Well I don't know how you do it, although it explains how you're so calm all the time."
"We could try," Harry said at last. "I'll never know for sure if you are ready unless I make the attempt."
She grinned and he shook his head. "This will hurt." Her smile faltered slightly.
"I can do it!" She maintained, after a moment to regather her courage.
"Fine." Harry's short answer shocked her more than any attempt he made to dissuade her. "I will attempt to breach your mind and you will attempt to repel me. Are you ready?"
She huffed. She was getting impatient, but she bit back some words. He met her eye. Harry touched a silver strand of memory lightly, coaxing out a memory of visiting this same ice cream shop when she was younger. Harry withdrew at once.
"Well?" She asked now she was getting impatient.
"You failed." She looked shocked.
"Wait when? Just now? I-"
"I managed to chase a memory of you visiting this shop with your father."
She didn't flinch, but it was close. She looked down at her ice cream bowl and pushed the last of it around inside with her spoon. "Oh I… I thought I would do better."
"Why? It was your first attempt." Naturally, Harry had managed to detect Dumbledore that first day back in Little Whinging, but he also knew he was a terrible benchmark for this sort of thing.
"Have you practiced?" Daphne asked. "What was your first attempt?"
I detected a breach orchestrated by the most powerful extent wizard in the world.
"No one has ever breached my mind repeatedly. It's not like I could ask Dumbledore or Professor Snape."
"Professor Snape and the Headmaster are Legilimens?"
Harry nodded.
"I didn't even know. Anyone could get into my mind, couldn't they? I have no defenses."
Harry sighed. "It'll take time. It's not easy at all."
Daphne looked up at him again. "Harry, what could you do with someone's mind?"
Harry paused. "Nearly anything."
She swallowed. "Like what?"
"The Imperius curse has its roots in Legilimency, it's a spell which provides a shortcut for advanced mind magic." Harry thumbed his jaw. "The memory and cheering charms too, they're similar extensions. I could indoctrinate someone slowly to my will if I had time. Using pavlovian reactions intended to coerce them and reform certain behaviors."
She looked up at him, terrified, but he could also see her resolve to learn had only strengthened.
"Like what happened with Weasley?"
Harry nodded. "It probably wouldn't even be difficult with enough time. Voldemort's teenage diary could do it. That's assuming that the Voldemort used the same methods."
"Will you try it again on me? Please? I know I didn't do all that well." She was worrying her lip again. "How am I supposed to… defend myself if I can't even recognize it?"
Harry paused thinking it through. "Alright. I'll try again, I'll make it more obvious."
Harry was in her mind again, but her body didn't stir at all. She wasn't reacting at all to his presence.
Was she… used to his incursions inside her head? Was he indoctrinating her to him slowly? It was… troublingly possible. Sobering, actually.
Harry stiffened his mental tendrils and grasped a cluster of silvery threads. He received sound and lights. It was her perspective of meeting him on the train.
"I… I feel that. You're at my…"
"Can you repel me?" He asked.
"I-I-I." She stuttered. She wasn't in much pain, but she was panicking slightly. Her mind roiled and Harry coaxed it to calm and regain equilibrium.
"I can't stop…" She was struggling, shivering at the feel of his mental fingers brushing across her mind.
Harry followed her thoughts. This cluster… it was full of her father.
"No-o-o don't…" Harry had never been so deep in a person's mind since the Dursleys. The memories and emotions were intoxicating. She squirmed in place, and Harry clutched tighter to the threads, running along them to the center of the web.
She gasped.
Harry reached for her memories of her father but what he saw with his actual eyes made him recoil from her thoughts.
She was nearly crying. "I couldn't stop you. I didn't know it would be so - so -so…"
"Painful?" Harry asked. He offered her a napkin to wipe her eyes. She took it and hid her face from him.
"I-it didn't hurt until the end when I tried to fight so hard. The rest of the time it-it felt…"
Harry waited for her to finish.
"I didn't know you would see everything." She finished at last.
She felt embarrassed and invaded and… something else.
"I told you that I would."
"Y-you did." She was gathering herself. "What would you do if I fought you?"
"I could make you feel pain. Or I could just sneak in and not fight."
She paused. "That's not what I meant. What if you wanted something from someone who was an Occlumens. What would you do?"
"There's a lot I could do. I could hurt you until you showed me what I wanted, and then I would reward you every time you cooperated."
"Reward? What do yo-"
Daphne's mother walked over to them. "I see you're both already finished shopping as well? Well I'm afraid I'm going to have to take Daphne from you, Harry. Do you mind if I call you Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "That's alright with me, ma'am"
She laughed. "Ma'am?" She asked.
"He speaks to everyone like that, Mom." Daphne told her as she gathered her stuff and stood.
"Such a polite boy. I'm sure your parents are worried about you as well." The woman paused and held her hand over her mouth in horror at her faux pas. But before she could apologize Harry felt something familiar.
[Harry.]
There was a polite tap on Harry's mental shoulder. Harry turned his head immediately and quickly away from Ms. Greengrass. Astoria and Daphne quickly looked in the same direction. Dumbledore was standing just outside of Ollivander's.
"I'd like to think you'd be right, ma'am." Harry said aloud as Ms. Greengrass saw the twinkling eyed man.
"The Headmaster? What is he doing here? I would ha-"
"He's Harry's legal guardian," Daphne said, waving and pulling her mother. "I'll see you at school, Harry." She was trying to smile but she struggled with the overwhelming emotions. The embarrassment was still there, but that third emotion was…. It left Harry feeling a little flustered. Harry dismissed it quickly.
He nodded and returned a wave. "I'll see you September Ninth."
He stood but Dumbledore was already approaching him even as Daphne left.
"Have a good summer, young man?" His grandfather figure asked with twinkling eyes. "Making time to meet friends is more than a little important."
He nodded. "Sir? I didn't expect you."
"Nor should you have." Dumbledore said in a clarifying tone. As though he had just provided Harry with some insight.
There was a beat where Harry looked at the headmaster expectantly and Dumbledore simply glanced around Diagon alley, smiling brightly and playing at complete obliviousness.
"What can I do for you, sir?" Harry asked, deciding to spring the trap and play the Headmaster's game.
"Why don't we take a walk?"
Harry gathered his things and began to follow.
"Harry, what do you know about Peter Pettigrew?"
"He's a Death Eater who broke out of Azkaban," Harry recounted. "I suspect that he must be fairly talented, given that he's the first to have done so."
"Or, perhaps, the ministry made a mistake which allowed him to escape?"
"Perhaps." Harry considered that. "But they've never done so before." Dumbledore nodded, giving him the point. "What's this about, sir?"
"Ever to the task, aren't you?" Dumbledore began. "You could learn to slow down a little." He gave a strange smile. "The ministry seems to believe that he may threaten you, and I agree that he could pose a threat to your well-being, which is why I wanted to ask you to avoid him, should you see him, and endeavor not to seek him out."
"I like to believe I avoid trouble headmaster."
"Will you tell me when you discover how? I should very much like to learn such an invaluable skill." His eyes twinkled knowingly. "I see you have completed your school shopping already. That's wise of you. Anything interesting that has caught your eye? No books on building enchantments for say… a particular room in Hogwarts?"
"As far as I'm aware I haven't broken any rules regarding that."
The Headmaster chuckled. "You have not. Hogwarts has many secrets. Many hidden rooms, even. What's one more? Now Harry, I'm afraid I must depart. With the school year so quickly approaching and attempting to remove the Dementors from the school grounds, my schedule has become quite frantic."
Harry struggled to imagine a frantic Dumbledore.
"Until next time, Professor."
The headmaster gave one last smile before turning and disappearing with a crack.
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Harry and Neville boarded the train without the interference of a homicidal house elf this time around, and quickly located an empty compartment.
Tracey, Daphne and Hermione joined them shortly after. Harry imagined that Lisa must be with the other Ravenclaw girls.
He gave a worried glance to Daphne. She hadn't talked to him since they met the day after his birthday and he was more than concerned for how they had left things. The train started to pick up speed just as the conversation did the same.
"Isn't he gorgeous?" Hermione asked nobody in particular, cooing at the sprawling cat in her lap. A mess of ginger fur that was so fluffy and thick Harry could only guess as to the creature's true size. It looked like it had run into a brick wall one too many times and its face was smashed and molded into a perpetual frown, giving the creature a distinctive and disgusted look.
"He's… unique," Harry returned, honest but diplomatically vague.
Daphne gave him an incredulous look which comforted him. It was part of her usual pattern.
"He suits you," Tracey commented more brightly. Harry gave her a measured look, trying to figure out if that was an insult. "So are any of you working on any life changing world making projects this year, or do you want to just be regular students for a change?"
"Hear, hear." Neville said chorusing his agreement.
It wasn't that either of them were poor students. Not really. But they couldn't hold a flame to Harry's talents nor Hermione's memory or Daphne's charm skills. Sure, Neville was an excellent herbolagist but it came up substantially less often than charms. How many projects had Neville not been able to work on with Harry because of that? Only all of them.
Though that may change.
Neville was an ideal source of assistance for Harry's latest ideas. Someone to bounce ideas around with at the least.
"Well… Now that we have classes like arithmancy, making spells will be so much easier, I think. I had an idea for a spell which could organize my notes before tests."
Tracey didn't so much as glance at Hermione. Barely shocked at what most would call a boring use of magic.
"Harry has something. Something Herbology related." Harry turned his eyes to Daphne and stroked his jaw.
"Maybe," he confessed. "I don't know if it will work, or how well. I was going to talk to you, Neville, about it later if I could."
"Me? Well I suppose so… If you really wanted to wo-"
"Oh my god. I was kidding!" Tracey said in exasperation, looking up at the roof of the train car. "Why can't we talk about Hogsmeade or something normal for once?! It's always enchant 'this' or invent 'that' with you people. You know Hogsmeade has a sweet shop where they have all kinds of things? Like, they have these balls of chocolate that are full of cherry cream, and they have every flavor of ice cream you can imagine. Well not all of them, I guess. That's Bertie botts' wheelhouse. Anyways, the point is they have a lot of flavors. There's also a diner where we can get butterbeer and fried food. Fried. Food. I mean Hogwarts food is amazing and all, but it's hard to beat something fried. Right? Imagine going down to Hogsmeade and getting a warm coco after one of those mid-winter chills."
"We could just stay inside and enjoy coco without going out in the cold at all." Neville muttered.
Tracey turned on him and opened her mouth.
"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on regardless of whatever Tracey was going to say. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain -"
"-Anyway!" Tracey burst in. "I think it's going to be a lot of fun," she concluded resolutely, looked about at the compartment's inhabitants as if daring them to disagree. She gave a pointedly long look to Neville and Hermione.
"You'll have to let me know," Harry said, when the silence became too stifling.
"Wait. What? You are not bailing on this, Harry." Tracey turned on him. "You have to come with us."
Neville groaned. "My gran couldn't sign your slip then?"
Harry shook his head. "She's not my legal guardian."
"What about Professor Dumbledore, that day in the Alley?" Daphne asked.
"I didn't have my slip."
"So, what did you talk about then?" Daphne pressed.
"No! Hold on! You have to get him to sign your slip or else!" Tracey demanded. She was almost looming over him. "Now, what did you and the Headmaster talk about?" Her tone becoming more polite.
"He informed me that he was worried about Peter Pettigrew and wanted to warn me about him in person."
"So the Headmaster thinks Pettigrew is a threat to you as well." Neville looked triumphant. It seems he hadn't forgotten their last discussion about this.
"Wait, that Death Eater who escaped? Why would he come after you?" Daphne appeared just as sceptical on the matter as Harry felt.
"Well he is a Death Eater, you know? You-Know-who's follower?" Hermione said.
Daphne turned to snap at Hermione, but Harry interrupted before she could. "That doesn't mean he would press Hogwarts or be concerned about me." He shrugged. "Hogwarts is pretty safe."
"Only from threats from the outside. The last two years haven't exactly screamed 'safety'." Tracey threw in her two knuts.
Harry shrugged again.
"I'm not going to worry about it. At least for now." Harry held up a silencing hand. "For now."
There was a knock at the door. Harry looked up to see Percy, Fred, George, and Ron Weasley. Hidden just to the side was their little sister.
"Ugh, Gryffindors," Daphne muttered under her breath.
Hermione reared back like a snake ready to strike while Neville didn't bother to rise to Daphne's rib at all. He knew that she said it only to bite at Hermione.
"I wonder what they want," Neville wondered.
Harry stood and opened the door.
There was an awkward silence when he did so.
"What can I do for you?" Harry asked after that moment passed.
"We-er, we just wanted to-" Ron began.
"We wanted to thank you for what you did for our sister," Percy finished for him with only a slightly pompous air. "Our family is very appreciative of what you did."
"Yeah, we seriously appreciate it mate," one of the twins added.
"She's our little sister," the other finished, nodding.
Harry turned his gaze to Ginny who was taken with him even before he saved her life. She turned red like a tomato and gave a nervous "hello" without actually looking at him.
Harry turned back to the cluster of older students. "It was nothing. I'm glad to see she's doing better. Is she progressing well with a mind healer?"
The twins shared a look while Ron scrunched his face.
"You didn't take her to a mind healer," Harry barely whispered.
Oh. My. God.
"Mind healers are expensive," Percy said with heat.
"More expensive than a trip to Egypt?" Daphne called from behind him.
Harry stepped through the doorway and shut it behind him.
"Are you crazy? She had Voldemort in her head for almost a year. I need to report this to the Headmas-ster. I'm fairly s-sure this qualifies-s as child abus-se." Harry said. He was getting emotional. Parseltongue and anger was affecting his speech. Ginny shook when the language of snakes slipped into his words. He focused and emptied his mind.
"What do you-" Ron began with his eyes narrowed before his brother interrupted him.
"We hadn't considered it," Percy admitted, looking pained.
"Though we probably should have," one of the twins said, the two of them sharing a look. Their faces were much more ashen than their brothers', which were flushing in embarrassment and anger.
"He could have done anything; warped her thoughts, changed her memories. Anything, with that much time," Harry shot back, straining to keep himself level.
"You're scaring her." Ron stepped closer.
"She should be scared," Harry said, much more calm than he felt, but there was still heat in his tone. "I would, as her family, make this a priority."
Harry glanced at Ginny and caught her mind. A normal mind was a mess of clusters and webs and strings – even Lovegood's, scattered and maimed as it was, was like that – so nothing jumped out at him. Indeed, since every mind was unique, and he didn't know how hers looked before, he couldn't detect a change. That would be like asking him to identify and describe a person he had never met.
There were traces of Tom. Silver beads which hung on the strands of her thoughts like dew on a spiderweb. But they were blessedly rare, but these places had been touched by magic. These were likely sealed memories or thoughts, but from the surface he couldn't see much, or understand what they did. That wasn't likely to do any more damage than a memory charm would if it was used to seal certain memories.
There was, however, damage. The occasional twisted spire of threads. Trauma that came to her when triggered by similar things to Tom, like Parseltongue. But while there was trauma there was also infatuation. Tom had formed some positive connections to Parseltongue in her mind.
That may be a source of her infatuation for Harry.
There was damage elsewhere, but whether it came from trauma or the remnants of Legilimency was anyone's guess. Indeed, Tom could have left traps in her mind that an incautious Legilimens could spring and hurt her. They could be imitations of trauma formed from Legilimency intentionally.
The Parseltongue connection was easy to identify because why else would she have such a positive association? There was no other reason he could think of. But the rest was hard to identify in both source, origin, and effect, should there even be one.
She was a mess and a landmine but… stable. For now.
Pity tugged at him strongly before he waved it away.
"I'll write home tonight," Percy volunteered.
"You should also tell Professor McGonagall. She's a risk to not only herself but others."
"Ginny wouldn't hurt anyone," Ron interjected.
"Not on purpose," Harry countered, not backing down. "Not on her own."
"You seem to know a lot about this, mate."
Harry turned towards the twin who spoke.
"I've… studied a little about this sort of magic. I'm not an expert. I'm just a third year."
"But… you might know what to expect." It was the same twin.
"I know that every mind is different. Though, its known that the memory charm and the Imperius curse both have their basis' in the mind arts." Harry let that sink in. "But there are things that there are no spells for. He could have changed her behavior over time, changed the way she thinks. Nearly anything. Were personality changes observed after?"
They shared looks full of dread and the girl looked like she was going to sob.
"I'm-I'm not sure." Percy said looking at his sister with concerned eyes.
"Write home," Harry told them. "Get help." He turned to open the door.
The train rattled, and Harry could hear a howl of wind.
When had it started to rain?
The compartment gave a lurch as the Express slowed to a halt. Harry shot out a hand and caught Tracey's luggage with his magic before it could fall on her, even as he caught himself on the door frame. Ginny and one of the twins bumped him as they struggled to stop.
The rain hammered down on the roof of the train car.
"Why are we stopped?" Daphne asked.
"We can't possibly be there yet," Hermione agreed. She stood and looked out the window.
The lamps all went out at once. At first, Harry believed that it was Dumbledore with his deluminator, here for some enigmatic, wizardly reason. Then there was the cold.
"There's people out there," Hermione said, even her quiet tone sounding loud in the sudden stillness. "Who would be out here? It doesn't make any sense."
Harry held out his wand and shone light around him.
If only I could conjure lights and attach them to places…
Something to consider.
At the front of the train a cloaked figure entered, reaching a cold, slimy hand around the corner and looking at them without eyes. He could feel its breath and felt its magical influence against his mind. Harry clasped his mind shut to the manipulations.
"Harry! What are you doing!?" It was Daphne and she sounded panicked.
This isn't me.
"It's a Dementor," Percy Weasley whispered.
It hung in the corridor. Harry exhaled slowly and a long trail of vapor exited his mouth. He focused.
"Expecto Patronum," he incanted softly. Nothing burst from his wand. That was natural. It was his first attempt at the spell. For such a spell even his first attempt would be poor.
Especially one powered by emotion.
He could have sworn that the monster laughed as it began to glide towards him. Its breath shuddering in a macabre imitation of humor. Harry turned around. There, behind him, he could see fire in the darkness at the end of the hall getting closer.
Harry turned back. It was close now. He was drowning in the assault on his mind. He gasped for breath and when he relaxed his mind to give it a breather he felt the cold enter him. He redoubled his efforts, but it was already inside, creeping inexorably in. The cold was rushing over him. It reached so deep within him. He couldn't fight the despair and the rush of dread that filled him.
Where?
He thought.
How is it getting in?
He felt himself fall and from the end of a tunnel he heard screaming. It was terrible and terrified and pleading. It pulled at him even as he attempted to steel himself.
The creature was on top of him. The screaming pounded into his head. It was lancing right through him, his own defenses falling short.
Ironic.
Even as he was dying he was coherent to recognize that.
He had only one chance of survival, but it was as likely to kill him as surely as the Dementor would.
"Fien-fiendf-fiend-fi," he tried to croak.
Nothing. Though, that was perhaps for the best.
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When Harry woke up he was in a bed. He sat up fast and groaned, collapsing back down. With one hand over his face he reached to the side, blindly feeling for his wand. It snapped into his hand from somewhere.
"You've broken your old record Mr. Potter."
"Ma-" Harry promptly threw up all over himself. The fluid was vanished almost instantly and Harry heard Madam Pomfrey approach, but it sounded like it was from two floors below him. He didn't move again, nor did he try to speak. The bright lights swam and pounded against him even through his closed eyes.
"You had a very close call with your soul and that Dementor." She informed him from somewhere to his right. "I don't know what they were thinking, but of course you would take the blunt of it." She paused, before adding as an afterthought, "You missed the opening feast."
Harry nearly gagged at the thought of food and he shook slightly.
"You're very lucky Professor Lupin knew the Patronus Charm."
He remained silent, still.
"Drink this, Mr. Potter." She placed something in front of him and he instinctively grabbed at it to avoid spilling it. Harry felt his muscle control fail and the liquid spilled all over him.
He felt it vanish.
"Yes, perhaps that was unwise of me. Here."
He felt something against his lips. A straw? He took a sip gagging at the thought of a thick potion but what crossed his lips was warm and sweet and savory. He drank deeper and felt a little better for it. The chocolate swirled over his tongue before he was struck with a racking cough from deep within his chest and nearly spat hot chocolate everywhere.
"Enough of that, for now."
Harry disagreed but kept his mouth shut. Warmth was filling him up and reaching his extremities. He realized that he was shaking and shivering.
He struggled for a moment, then darkness took him again.
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Harry woke up past noon the first day of term from an intense dream. His peers were already in class and he had missed the first day of Arithmancy at 9:00 and Care of Magical Creatures after that.
"Setting Dementors around a school," Pomfrey muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead before dismissing him from the infirmary. "You won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, you're less clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate -"
Delicate?
Harry was excused from classes for the rest of the day, but it didn't stop him from showing up to Runes and Herbology. In Runes Harry snuck in part of the way through class and sat in the back, far away from Tracey, Daphne, and Hermione. All three gave him worried looks. Especially when he was struck with deep hacking coughing fits which burned his lungs and throat.
He struggled to get down the stairs to the greenhouse after. He met Lisa in Herbology and she was giving him a concerned look beneath a strained smile and it didn't take a Legilimens to know what was going through her head. Though he was struggling to get a read on anyone right now.
His magic wasn't responding with the same dextrous and alacritous edge it usually did. It was like trying to cut bread with a wedged door stop. Sloppy and silly.
[He looks… weak.] She thought.
She seemed surprised, like she had never seen him so low. Harry snapped his Occlumency into place to try and draw in his usual air.
He knew it didn't work.
She informed him about what he missed in Care of Magical Creatures. She described the powerful hippogriffs and some of their magical characteristics. She likely believed that talking about magic was the best way to keep him from sinking into his own thoughts.
It was a good attempt.
It wasn't working.
Harry's movements were clumsy and jerking in his gloves and she barely kept him from making a mess at least twice.
He was still light-headed and he couldn't feel his toes in his shoes. His attempts at Legilimency left a deep ache behind his eyes.
It was when Harry departed from Herbology to find Professor Vector to discover what he had missed about Arithmancy that he ran into trouble in the corridors.
"You fainted, Potter? You actually fainted?"
"Cunning of you, Malfoy, to do this now, if not brave." Damn his voice for shaking.
"I didn't see you in Care of Magical Creatures so the Dementor must have put you in the hospital wing. Did the big scary Dementor frighten you?" Malfoy kept talking despite Harry.
"Leave him alone!" Lisa bit out but she was clutching her books to her chest trying to make herself seem small.
"Oh, it's you," The ponce said with disgust. "I heard what your mother did at the ministry. Disgracing the good name of witches and wizards everywhere," he drawled, finishing with what must have been a patented sneer. "Well, I, for one, am amazed she didn't lose her job."
Lisa turned pink and stammered lightly.
Harry reached across his chest for his wand. His hand shook. The cold from the train hadn't left him. It was deep and in his chest.
What's wrong with me?
Harry hasn't been sick in years. His magic boosted his vitality even as it healed him at the Dursley's and beyond.
He shivered all over his body.
Malfoy was… faster. Faster than Harry here and now and faster than he had been during their previous confrontations.
Malfoy's spell struck Harry in the chest and he dropped his book bag as he fell. He rolled backwards and down a staircase. Harry gasped. He had fumbled his wand. He hadn't done that since… ever. He had never fumbled his wand. Harry remembered Lockhart dropping his wand last year and how it disgusted him then.
He scowled.
And brought himself to his hands and knees. Harry reached for his wand, pulling it to him, except it didn't move towards him. Not at all. Harry felt his magic slip through his fingers like oil.
It burned him even as he froze and he winced as he felt pain.
He looked down at his hand turning his palm towards him even as he kneeled on the floor.
Harry felt something meet his side, sending him rolling the rest of the way down the staircase.
This time Harry stood up quickly. He swayed, trying to keep his feet, but his vision blurred and he collapsed. He looked over to Crabbe who had kicked his side and saw Malfoy smirking triumphantly.
Harry lanced towards Malfoy's mind but the spear crumbled, the magic slipping away from him. The ache behind his eyes intensified and he nearly passed out.
Harry felt anger, but it was shouting at him from far away, like it was buried under a layer of permafrost.
He mostly felt confused. Like a wounded animal. Even at the Dursleys he had always had magic.
The Slytherins heckled Harry but it was distant, and when he didn't respond in any way shape or form they eventually grew tired and left.
Lisa picked up his wand and paced towards him to hand it over. Harry met her eyes but didn't see anything in them. He didn't even try. He stood up slowly and tremored.
"Thank you," he said. He reached out to grab his wand and his forearm convulsed slightly.
Her eyes nearly glowed with concern.
"Harry…"
Harry saw that he was bleeding lightly from the corner of his mouth from his reflection in her eyes. He wiped it away with his palm and looked at his hand to see the crimson smear.
"...Are you okay?" She finished.
He clutched tightly his wand. It was warm, and the wood was sleek and smooth in his fingers, but that warmth never reached his chest.
"You've never lost like that before," she continued.
She had dropped her books when he had been flung. Harry reached past her and towards her books. He focused harder than he ever had to pull her books to him. They didn't twitch. His wandless magic which had always been with him and within him stirred and fell silent like a bear shifting in a cave but refusing to rise.
The rush of magic nearly burnt his fingers and he had to focus not to cry out.
She was looking slightly hysterical, but was clearly trying to remain calm.
For him?
Meek and mild Lisa who was quick to fear and overthinking was staying strong for him?
Delicate.
Madam Pomfrey had called him. Was she right?
"Something…" Harry began slowly the words leaving his lips slowly. She peered up at him.
He dropped the words. Shaking his head.
"On the train yesterday." He switched tracks. Surprising Lisa. It wasn't like him to say something before he was sure he was going to say it. "I heard screaming. Did you hear it?"
She shook her head tears were welling in her eyes.
Harry looked away at once.
"I heard a woman screaming."
She shook her head harder. "No one was screaming, Harry."
There was silence and Harry's fingers twitched and twisted before him.
"Harry, are you okay?" She was swallowing a lot of fear to ask him. A lot of emotion. It pulled at him even as his own emotions ran out of control for one of the first times in his life.
"No," Harry said, still examining his hand. The words dropped from him like water from an icicle. "Something is terribly wrong with me."
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"And since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of." -Cassius from Julius Caesar by Shakespeare
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WG