The third of the third. I haven't edited this chapter nearly as much as I usually would - it possesses some of my older writing style in places - but it's recent enough that it doesn't compromise the story. I hope you enjoy it just the same.
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Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.
The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Blackest of Nights
III. The Leaky Cauldron
Harry frowned, tearing his eyes away from the nervous witch at the other end of the bar.
Lestrange again.
The woman with the long, curly black hair danced before his mind's eye, giggling horribly as her heavily-lidded eyes shined with mirth. Tattered prison robes hid her in the darkness as she slowly backed away -
"More Butterbeer?" asked a kind voice.
"Er - yes, please." said Harry. Tom nodded, pulling another tankard from behind the bar and placing it just before Harry.
"Finished your homework, have you?" asked Tom as he ran a mangy towel across a used glass.
"More or less." Harry murmured, "Just a bit of my Transfiguration Essay left."
Tom nodded, sparing a glance at the roll of parchment Harry hunched over. He shivered, shaking his head as his wand arched through the air. The glass flew into one of the many cabinets behind him, and the towel - which had been damp with butterbeer and grime - suddenly looked brand new.
"I don't envy you." he said, chuckling. He spared the parchment another glance, "Knowing McGonagall, that'll take quite some time. I'll leave you to it."
Harry watched as Tom turned to help another patron - an old wizard adorned in robes coloured dark red. He watched as Tom and the man chatted briefly. The barman's smile, though genuine, seemed rather strained; there were lines around his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn't slept at all last night.
Harry took a glimpse into his mind. Like all the others, Tom's mind only held two words - a name, replaying itself again and again and again -
Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange . . .
Harry looked away, forcefully staring at his lap.
At least I know I'm getting better at Legilimency.
Harry twitched. His eyes slid across the room, and as they did, dull voices pressed against the inside of his skull -
Lestrange . . .
Harry shivered.
Maybe getting better at Legilimency isn't such a good thing.
The last few days had been much of the same. Fun - downright euphoric when compared to his time at Number four, Privet Drive - but everything felt off. The sea of faces that lined Diagon Alley seemed restless and uncertain. Everyone seemed so unsettled, so nervous -
Harry's eyes glanced at the folded sheet of parchment that sat on the bar. He tentatively reached a hand towards it, picking it up and flattening it out.
And this is why.
"'Bellatrix Lestrange Escapes from Azkaban.'" Harry read aloud, his eyes roaming the paper's surface. The woman with the curly black hair was on the cover again. She stared up at him, cackling madly. There was an insane glint in her eyes.
And she's after me.
No one had said it. Not the Minister for Magic, not the barman, and not any of the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron. They didn't need to, though. Not anymore.
It's all in their eyes . . . like windows to the soul.
It was more than that. He saw it in the tensing of Fudge's shoulders, and in the uncertainty that loomed behind Tom's nervous form. It was everywhere; in the wavering voices, in the nervous shuffles, and sometimes even in the eyes that refused to meet his own. They were all scared. both for their sake and for his.
Harry frowned, his eyes falling back to the copy of the Daily Prophet.
She must be strong, then . . . she has to be. She's Voldemort's right-hand witch, after all -
Shadows pooled in the corner of the room, curling and twisting into a girl with long, dark hair and beautiful hazel eyes.
"Piss off." hissed Harry quietly, "I'm not in the mood."
The girl faded away, smiling all the while. Harry pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, dipping his quill in ink before jotting down a quick note.
'Practice Occlumency more often.'
"Because if you don't," muttered Harry, furiously dotting the 'i', "You'll have to deal with your stupid nightmares again - and during the day, too."
I shouldn't have stopped practicing.
Harry folded the paper, tightly creasing the corner before tucking it into his robe pocket. His eyes landed on the thick sheet of parchment before him - he had barely touched his essay in the past hour. He wasn't exactly in the mood.
Harry pushed it aside, reaching towards the small stack of letters that sat off to his left. He had already read the first; according to its contents, Nott was having about as good of a holiday as Harry had a week ago. Harry put Nott's letter aside, reaching for the one beneath it. He gently ran his finger over it, opening the envelope and removing the letter from within.
'Dear Harry,
I heard what happened. Father told us all about it at dinner. I don't blame you, but you've got to be careful. More than two dozen muggles saw your aunt floating over Surrey - the only reason the Ministry knew what happened was because someone tipped them off (a squib, most likely; I don't know of any witches or wizards living near you).
Either way, I'm glad you got out of there. At least this way you can spend the rest of the summer holiday away from them. In a little more than a week you'll be back at Hogwarts.
My sister's starting this year. She's really nervous. I think I am too. Dumbledore knows about her blood curse, by the way - he's already got a plan set up in case there's an emergency. I'm still worried, but I suppose that makes me feel a bit better.
Please be safe. I'm sure you know what happened with Bellatrix Lestrange, and I'm sure you've worked out what it means. Please don't do anything stupid or reckless, at least not for another week. I'll see you then.
With love,
Daphne.'
Harry stared at the letter for a moment before pocketing it. He quickly polished off what was left of his breakfast, finishing just as Tom returned.
"Up you get." he said, taking the plates away from Harry, "Back to your room. You might get a bit more of your work done there."
Harry rolled up his essay, grabbed his ink and quill and made his way out of the bar.
-(xXx)-
Harry pressed a finger against the corner of the page, flattening it as he continued to read.
'- are all capable of warding the entrance or exit to a confined space. This, of course, presents a glaring vulnerability - should a trespasser desire, they may simply tear their way through your walls. There exists spells capable of protecting an entire enclosed area (rather than a mere fragment of it), but these spells are far more advanced in nature.
Thankfully, there are other ways to strengthen one's wards, even those created from a relatively weak spell or enchantment. Runes, for example, can significantly bolster a ward's strength; they are even capable of adding additional requirements for entry (such as gender, magical ability, blood, or even the possession of certain rare abilities). Runes, when combined with already potent protective spells, can create nigh impenetrable wards.
To read more on basic warding, turn to page 34.
To read more on protective Runes, turn to page 97.
To read more on advanced warding, turn to page 212.'
A thin piece of parchment zoomed into Harry's outstretched hand. He neatly placed it in the book's center before slamming it shut. A homely creaking noise sounded through the room as Harry lay back upon his bed, allowing his head to sink into the soft pillows.
Hoot.
"What is it?" asked Harry, turning his head.
Hedwig was sitting atop the fireplace, within which hot coals burned merrily. Her beak was pointed at something sitting upon Harry's desk - it was a thin, folded piece of parchment, a bright red Hogwarts seal adorning it. Harry groaned, pushing himself off his bed and plucking the letter from the table.
'Dear Mr. Potter,
You have applied to take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as your electives. As such, you will require a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3) by Miranda Goshawk
Intermediate Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
Numerology and Grammatica by Caelum Maple
Spellman's Syllabary by Othella Plite
The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Intermediate Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling'
"Shit." muttered Harry, tossing the letter aside, "I'd forgotten about that. I'll buy them all tomorrow."
Hedwig hooted reproachfully, glaring at the book Harry had been reading. The boy picked it up, placing it neatly upon his bedside table. He ran a finger across its cover, watching as the few specks of dust faded away.
"I needed it, Hedwig." he told the owl, "I still do."
No one's getting into my room this year.
The sound of pattering water reached his ears. Harry turned. Rain gently tapped against his window, falling from clouds coloured a bright white. A small puddle of water pooled by the window swill. Its contents swayed slightly, not unlike the Great Lake beneath a star-lit sky.
Or the chamber. The Chamber of Secrets.
Two pools formed on either side of him, the water crashing against dark walls covered by Runes Harry couldn't name. Stone serpent effigies lined either side of him, each but a few feet away from the next. The ceiling was too high for him to see, and a large, terrible statue stood just before him -
Harry twitched, his neck tilting off to the side. Nervous eyes widened slightly, and Harry timidly raised his wand from the table. His thoughts jumped to nearly two months prior, back in the chamber far beneath Hogwarts school.
Harry raised his wand, closing his eyes. Bright orange feathers flashed before the eye of his mind, and a scarlet plume danced behind them. Thin, clawed talons slowly clattered upon cold stone floors. A small, pointed beak swam amongst his thoughts.
Something clenched within his gut, and Harry slashed his wand across his chest. There was a sudden pause - something else had joined him within the passageway - and Harry slowly opened his eyes -
Sitting before him was an abnormally large rooster. It gazed up at him, its beady eyes shining in the darkness.
Harry shook his head, taking a seat with his back pressed against the side of his bed. Hedwig was watching him from her spot atop the fireplace. She suddenly jumped down from her spot, making her way over to him. Soft white feathers pressed against his legs as beady eyes stared up at him. Harry smiled, running his fingers through her plumage.
"How'd I do it, Hedwig?" he muttered, "I didn't even know the incantation - not that I use an incantation for wandless magic."
But that's different. Harry reasoned, It feels different.
"There was the shield, too." Harry told Hedwig, his voice soft, "Back when Lockhart tried to stop me from running into the chamber. I wanted to be protected, and suddenly I was."
Hedwig hooted, pressing her head against his led. Harry lifted her onto his lap, his eyes staring off at nothing in particular.
It's always the same. I slash my wand across my chest, and what I want to happen happens.
"Maybe it's Nonverbal Magic." Harry thought aloud, "That's what I used to think."
But a voice whispered in his mind, and Harry knew he was wrong. Whatever it was, it wasn't that.
Besides, Nonverbal Magic still has incantations. You just think them instead of saying them.
Emerald eyes glanced to the side, landing upon the wand Harry had placed to his right. He gingerly picked it up, holding it out in front of him.
"What do you think?" he asked Hedwig, smiling softly, "Should I try it? They won't know I'm using magic out of school, not in Diagon Alley."
Hedwig hooted again. Harry flexed his arm, turning his wand over in his palm. Slowly he closed his eyes. His mind raced as he sought for something he desired.
Grumble.
I'm hungry.
Harry slashed his wand across his chest. A soft thud met his ears, and he slowly opened his eyes. Several plates of breakfast - pancakes, waffles, poached eggs, and toast - all sat before him. Steam wafted from before him, and a delicious smell reached his nose. Harry stared at it all with wide eyes.
"You can't conjure food." Harry muttered dumbly, reaching towards the plate. His fingers stopped just before passing through its surface. Harry could feel the texture of porcelain, "It's one of Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration."
This shouldn't be possible.
Harry raised the toast to his mouth, taking a bite from it. He could feel the thin layer of butter coating the inside of his mouth. He set the toast down, chewing slowly. His eyes fell upon his wand once more.
"It's because you're different, Harry." whispered a voice in his ear, "Better. Special, like me."
Harry turned. Emily Marvolo Riddle sat before the eye of his mind, watching him with glowing hazel eyes. She smiled softly at him as she stood up, straightening out her robes.
"You've wasted enough time deluding yourself." she said, "You've wasted enough time pretending. You've wasted enough time being weak."
The girl leaned closer. Harry could almost feel the edge of her lips on his ears.
"I am coming, Harry." she whispered softly, a wicked smile set upon her features, "And I will be anything but weak."
-(xXx)-
White marble floors stared up at him, twinkling beneath the pair of black shoes he had gotten for his birthday. Neville Longbottom straightened up as he examined his reflection in the stained glass window. His chubby fingers combed through his hair, and he gently brushed the dust from his school robes.
But the boy in the window stared back at him, looking just as sad as ever. His robes were still creased, his pants covered in lint, and his tie resembled a noose far more than it did itself -
Neville sighed, turning away from the window. His bedroom was larger than most - his closet alone was bigger than Ron's kitchen. But Ron's kitchen was often filled to the brim, or perhaps packed with people. Never did it feel so - so -
Empty.
Neville perked up as the door behind him slowly creaked open. He watched nervously as his grandmother entered the room, adorned in dark green robes and her favourite hat, complete with a stuffed vulture.
"Arthur is waiting downstairs, as is Ronald." she said in a rough, stern voice, "You're all packed, aren't you? Do your school robes fit?"
Neville nodded, grabbing a pair of spare robes from the end of his bed.
"Excellent." said Augusta Longbottom, "They've agreed to take you to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters tomorrow, so this will be the last time I see you before the holidays. I'd like a quick word before you go."
Neville nodded again, taking a seat upon his bed. He slowly removed the tie from around his neck, flinching as it rubbed tightly against his skin.
"Now then," began Augusta, "I'm sure you know all about Bellatrix Lestrange's escape from Azkaban?"
Neville froze. Slowly he rose his head, his movements stiff and rigid.
"A good few people seem to think she'll be heading for Hogwarts." Augusta continued, "I'm one of them, and so are many members of the ministry. They, however, seem to think the best way to deal with this is by adding Dementors to Hogwarts' security."
Neville felt the tie slip from his fingers. He stared back at his grandmother, his jaw hung wide open -
"Exactly." said Augusta, "Now, I understand how you feel about her. But you mustn't do anything. You know damn well what Dementors can do. If you go looking for trouble, they'll find you, and they'll give you trouble."
Augusta paused, slowly approaching Neville. She gently waved her wand, and the boy's tie attached itself neatly beneath his collar.
"I know you might not think you're special." she said softly, looking him in the eye, "But you're just like your father. Frank didn't start off all strong and mighty. No one does. He became strong because he needed to be.
"Now you need it. Now's your time, Neville. If you can't be strong for him, be strong for you. Be strong, because you'll need to be."
-(xXx)-
"Hurry up, the Aurors will be here any minute now!" yelled a voice from just outside his door. Harry ran across the length of his room, his hands filled to the brim with all sorts of strange objects.
"I'm nearly ready!" said Harry loudly, glancing around the room. Books were littered upon the floor, as were his robes and a few miscellaneous food wrappers. His trunk sat by the end of his bed, untouched.
Shit.
Harry dumped his belongings onto his sheets, quickly sorting through them. A few books flew through the air as he waved his hand; each fell to the floor beside him with a soft thud. There were more this time than there had been last year, thanks in part to the two new electives Harry had chosen: Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.
And because I need them, too.
Emerald orbs fell upon a pile of books that sat upon his desk. They were far larger than his other textbooks, and their contents were far more complex. Harry had bought them from Flourish and Blotts only a few days prior. He hadn't told Tom about these, nor anyone else.
I need them. I've got to get better.
Harry made his way across the room, lifting the stack of books from the table. He journeyed back again, jutting his head to the side. The top of his trunk feebly flew open. Dozens of chocolate frog cards were sprawled within - as were a few bent quills - and a torn piece of parchment sat off to the side. Beside it sat a thin, black diary bound in darkened leather.
Harry paused, and an uncomfortable feeling shot through his veins. His eyes flew across the book's cover, tracing the tattered edges that formed the hole in the diary's center. The ends of his lips fell, and his head tilted slightly to the side.
The hole wasn't this big before.
Harry neared the trunk uncertainly. Something familiar wafted from the diary, whispering comforts into his ears in soft, dulcet tones. Something strange, peculiar and odd - something alive -
Harry shivered uncomfortably. He dropped the stack of books into the trunk, watching as the diary vanished beneath them.
"Harry, they're here!"
"Coming." murmured Harry, his eyes glued to the insides of his trunk. He slowly shook himself out of his stupor, turning to the door, "I'm coming!"
Harry quickly dumped everything within eyesight into his trunk, which had been fitted by a rather ingenious Extension Charm just a few days ago. He made sure he had everything of importance: his photo album, his wand, the invisibility cloak -
An old notebook sat on a shelf by the window.
Her notebook.
Harry slowly crossed the length of the room, tentatively plucking the book from the shelf.
I need it. It's too useful.
Harry tossed it into his trunk, watching as his luggage clamped itself shut. He picked it up rather easily (thanks to the Featherweight Charm that had also been added), making his way towards the door. A large, gold cage stood by the doorway, and a beautiful snowy owl sat within it.
"Ready Hedwig?" asked Harry quietly, "Right. Let's go."
Tom the barman stood at the end of the hall. He nodded as Harry made his way forward, leading the boy down the passage and to the bar. It was nearing ten o'clock now; a sparse few golden rays of light shined through the large, oddly-shaped windows. The rest of the sky was painted a cruel grey. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Harry watched as the sky darkened.
"They're right outside." said Tom, ducking over as he collected something from behind the bar, "Just give me one moment -"
Even now, in the relatively early hours of Wednesday morning, the renowned bar was filled to the brim. Harry's eyes raked over the dozens of witches and wizards. The ends of his lips curled upwards, and he turned to face the door.
I'm going home.
A thin, black diary swam through his mind, a large, gaping hole in its center. Harry frowned.
"Right." said Tom, straightening up. He gently brushed the dust off his robes, "Best we send you on your way."
Tom slowly creaked the front door open. Water poured upon the street outside, and the cold wind blew against Harry's face. On the opposite side of the street were a group that seemed somewhat out of place, both in the wizarding world and in the muggle one. Beside them sat a large, silver car.
Uncle Vernon would love that.
"They're here for you." said Tom kindly, "Go on now, and have a great term!"
"I will, thanks." said Harry, smiling back.
He quickly crossed through the road, making sure not to slip on the wet pavement. One of the six Aurors took his trunk from him as he came to a halt. He was a large, bald man with dark skin and broad shoulders. Out of all the Aurors, he was the only one who really looked like a muggle. He wore an old grey suit, as well as a small golden hoop earring.
"Just a second." said the man in a deep, reassuring voice, "I'll make sure the coast is clear."
Harry turned to the other Aurors. Each and every one of them watched him very carefully. His eyes latched onto one of them - a young witch with long brown hair and pretty eyes. He felt the faintest sense of wonder flood his mind, though it wasn't his own -
She doesn't know Occlumency.
Harry frowned. Emerald orbs turned to the other Aurors. They stood firm and tall, and a few of them looked around the same age as the first witch. Their thoughts poured out from their eyes, leaking like oil from a shattered canister. Harry tried his best to ignore it, but their intrigue, wonder, and anticipation coursed through his veins -
"Right." said the dark-skinned man, having returned, "We're good to go."
Harry quickly looked away. He had the strangest feeling that this man, out of all the Aurors present, might know a thing or two about Occlumency.
I've really got to work on my control.
Harry clambered into the car, following after the brown-haired witch and one with bright bubblegum pink hair. The other four split up - two entered a car in front of him, and two entered the one behind. The driver fiddled with the steering wheel for a moment, and the next they were off.
Harry stared out the window, watching as London zoomed by. The car they were in seemed rather special; Harry wasn't sure how else they kept jumping past all the oncoming traffic. He slowly turned, his eyes landing on the Auror sitting opposite him - the one with the bubblegum pink hair. She looked oddly familiar -
Hagrid's Arrest. She was there that night , in the hospital wing.
"Excited for school?" she asked.
Harry nodded.
"I know I was." she said with a smile, "I was in Hufflepuff. So was Hestia - she's the other Auror, by the way. And I'm Tonks."
"I'm Harry."
"Never would've guessed." said Tonks, grinning. Harry smiled.
"What's your favourite class?" asked the pink-haired Auror, "I always liked Transfiguration - and I suppose Charms was fun, too."
"Defense, probably." said Harry slowly, "I sort of like using magic in general. All the wanded classes are pretty good."
Tonks nodded.
"I know what you mean." she said, "That might've been one of the reasons I hated Potions so much - although I suppose Snape wasn't exactly my favourite professor -"
"I don't think he's anyone's favourite."
Tonks laughed. The other Auror - Hestia - looked on with interest.
"What about after Hogwarts?" she asked curiously, "Do you know what you'd like to be when you're older?"
Harry slowly shook his head.
"I think you'd make a pretty good Auror." said Hestia, "Especially if you're good at using magic."
I suppose that might be interesting.
"What about grades?" asked Harry, "Aren't there requirements?"
But Hestia merely waved her hand, shaking her head slowly.
"You don't have to worry about that." she said reassuringly, "If you're as good as everyone says, you'll be fine."
Everyone?
"Your Professors." said Tonks, catching his confused expression, "And the other students, I suppose."
"But that doesn't mean you should slack off, either." added Hestia quickly, "There's still a long time before both your O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations. Madam Marchbanks would be very disappointed if you didn't manage to impress her."
"Er - right."
The car came to a sudden, screeching halt. Harry turned to the front as the driver stepped out, opening the large side door for him. King's Cross station stared back at him through the car window.
"Come on." said Hestia, moving forward, "Your train leaves soon."
She and Tonks led Harry into King's Cross. The station was roaring with life. Muggles of all sorts passed by, talking to one another about all sorts of strange things. A few of them stared curiously at Hedwig - but Tonks subtly waved her wand, and they all looked away.
"Right," said Hestia a few moments later, "Here we are."
The brick archway between platform Nine and Three-Quarters stood opposite him. Harry approached it, his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other. He quickly turned to the two Aurors.
"Goodbye, then."
"Goodbye Harry." said Hestia, "Have a good term -"
"- and Jinx Snape for me, if you can." added Tonks.
Harry smiled. Slowly he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran headfirst into the wall that separated the muggle world from his own.
