Chapter 29
Authors Notes
Hello everyone, I apologise once again for the delays with this story. I have been struggling with burnout for a while and finally had to concede that I needed to take a break from writing and even some time off of work but I feel refreshed after my break and ready to write once more.
This year I will not be sticking to any rigid release schedule, but I will be releasing chapters for this story and for 'A City On His Shoulders' which is my other current story based in the DC Universe. If you haven't read it already then please give it a try, its a very different story to this one but hopefully equally as good!
As always thanks for reading and please continue to Favourite, Follow and Review!
Chapter 29
Malfoy Manor was a building that reflected its owner in many ways. On the outside it appeared to be a beautiful building of clean white stone and gleaming glass windows, an elaborate series of magical creatures carved from stone lined the path that led from the wrought-iron gates to the tall doors of the manor. Peacocks strut around the gardens, displaying their majestic plumage to all who visit as a not-so subtle sign of wealth and prosperity. The manor held several extravagant ballrooms, a dozen bedrooms and three dining rooms all decorated with intricate tapestries and portraits of pleasant landscapes.
However, the clean and pleasant exterior was a facade, a mask to hide the dark reality that dwelled beneath the surface. Hidden behind the fireplace in the Lord's study was a staircase that descended to the dungeons beneath the manor where the truth of Lucius Malfoy dwelled. A sprawling network of tunnels and rooms had been built beneath the manor by Lucius' grandfather, Nicholas Malfoy, originally to serve as a safe haven to retreat to should Grindelwald's forces succeed in invading Britain. Nicholas Malfoy had laid a myriad of protection and concealing enchantments upon the underground hideaway and his descendants had only added to his work. Now the various rooms were used for less savoury purposes than protecting one's family.
Instead, most of the rooms had been converted into cells, laboratories or meeting places for when Lucius needed secrecy. The cells were only half full, twelve muggle women of various ages were held within the barred rooms with only stained stone and cold chains for company. Lucius was within his favoured study, sat in a plush chair with a tall back as he stewed angrily and drained his glass of whiskey with a growl.
On the desk in front of him lay a scattered sheaf of parchments, some were official documents copied from within the Ministry and sent to him by agents he paid or threatened to do his bidding, others were messages from contacts in Hogsmeade who had informed him of Greyback's failure.
Twice now his plans had been derailed by the Potter boy. He had planted his master's cursed diary in the Weasley girl's cauldron in an effort to force Arthur Weasley to stop poking into his affairs, the so-called Muggle Protection Act was nuisance enough without Weasley adding clauses allowing property searches to it. Admittedly he hadn't known it would cause the Chamber of Secrets to be opened but otherwise the plan was flawless, the Weasley girl would be caught red-handed after an 'anonymous tip' by one of his agents within the DMLE and the family would be ruined, none would ever believe them to be Muggle-lovers after the girl was sent to Azkaban for killing Mudbloods.
Then Potter interfered. Somehow the blind brat was able to stop the curse on the Diary, a magic so potent and insidious that even the few books Lucius had gained from his marriage to the Black's didn't make mention of it. None of the blame fell at the Weasley's feet, and the old Headmaster had the gall to threaten him. He had needed to pay off a series of sanctions and one-time taxes during the Summer Wizengamot that Dumbledore had cleverly orchestrated to take a heavy dent out of his accounts, not enough to cripple him but it was more than he received for Narcissa's dowry and was enough to frustrate him.
So he waited and plotted. He had given up on locating the Potter boy's home a decade ago, the few criminals he could find willing to hunt for the Boy-Who-Lived had all disappeared days or even hours after they set off and after a year no others would take the job. Potter was only vulnerable once he stepped onto Platform 9 , so he had reached out to one of the few contacts he had who would risk openly antagonising Albus Dumbledore.
Fenrir Greyback. The man was more beast than wizard but he was an undeniably useful tool, one merely needed to know how to handle him. Greyback was proud and, with one notable exception, feared no-one and nothing, he only sought to grow his pack infect more with his cursed gift. Lucius had offered him assistance in returning to Britain, along with a safehouse and supplies, in exchange for Greyback taking a specific student as a new member of his pack. Potter.
Greyback infiltrated Hogsmeade using a sample of Polyjuice Lucius had supplied, at great personal expense, and waited in the Three Broomsticks for the boy to turn up. It should have been simple, but that mad bastard Black showed up in Hogsmeade at the same time and the Dementor's swarmed the place. From the reports Lucius had received from his Auror friends, it seemed Greyback's Polyjuice transformation failed and the werewolf tried to take Potter by force, only for the boy to collapse a ceiling on him and then somehow send him flying out of the tavern to land at Dumbledore's feet.
It had cost him a small fortune but he had no choice but to setup an 'escape' from the holding cells at Hadrian's Wall, Greyback knew too much to risk him being questioned by Bones or Scrimgeour. Hundreds of Galleons in bribes, a new enemy in the Portkey department and a hefty donation to Fudge's 'Discretionary Budget' to ensure the Minister wouldn't investigate too deeply into the escape led to the werewolf 'overpowering' his guard when he was moved cells for 'administrative' reasons. Then Greyback 'stumbled' upon a clerk from the Department of Magical Transport who coincidentally happened to be near the holding cells with a clean Portkey for testing outside the still activated Hadrian's Wards.
All because Potter refused to die when his betters wanted him to like his parents had. It was infuriating. Lucius had needed to vent his frustrations on one of his more recent acquisitions for over an hour before he could think about the boy without his blood boiling with impotent rage.
"Are you there Lucius? I have word from the Wall." The nasally sound of Walden Macnair's voice echoed from the corner of the study where a tall mirror leaned against the wall covered with a grey sheet of cloth. The cloth was enchanted to block all sound and light from passing through it from the study, but it allowed sound to escape from the mirror behind it.
Lucius flicked his wand towards the corner and the sheet slipped from the mirror to pool on the floor and expose the mirror's surface to him. It was an old artifact from his family's time in France before they travelled across with the Conqueror in the tenth century. The standing mirror framed by ornate ebony came with six smaller handheld mirror's, by speaking into one of these smaller 'child' mirrors' one could contact the larger 'parent' mirror. Originally created as a tool to aid in warfare, to allow a general to give time-sensitive orders to captains or units in battle, Lucius had found the objects served much better for his more clandestine dealings.
"What is it Walden? I have already heard that Greyback escaped, with any luck he will be back in Bulgaria by morning."
"Lucius he...the Auror's traced the Portkey and Greyback dropped out early. He's still in Scotland, they think he landed somewhere north of Dunblane..." Walden started eagerly but the sight of Lucius' face growing still with rage led him to quieten as the Malfoy patriarch absorbed the information.
It wasn't impossible to drop out of a Portkey before it reached it's intended destination, but it was dangerous and painful. At best you would find yourself falling twenty or thirty feet out of the sky at immense speeds, at worst you could be stuck halfway through a wall or stuck in the middle of a mountain depending on the path the Portkey was following. That Greyback would risk dropping out prematurely meant the werewolf suspected Lucius intended to double-cross him or he had unfinished business in Britain.
That thought caused a vicious grin to creep across Lucius' face as he considered it. Greyback was known to spend weeks, even months hunting individuals he found worthy. If he had chosen Potter as his next victim then things could still work out for Lucius, but he needed to make some important moves first.
"Walden. Your proposal, the Half-Breed Registration Act? Bring it forward to Diggory and he will present it at the next Wizengamot. I have some amendments in mind but I will ensure it is passed." Lucius flicked his wand again even as Walden sputtered his gratitude, but it was ignored as the Malfoy turned back to his desk with plans spinning through his mind. If he was clever and careful he could kill two Muggles with one spell, Potter could be punished and he could recoup his lost power within the Wizengamot after Dumbledore's actions to stifle him.
"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper." He whispered to himself as he stood and stalked down the corridor towards one of the other cells. He always planned best when his blood was pumping and nothing worked quite as well as putting Muggles in their place.
Within a handful of heartbeats, the corridors filled with sound of screaming. In the other cells, women huddled themselves against the walls and tried to block out the sounds, torn between anguish and relief that they were not today's victims.
"Silence!" Professor Snape demanded as he stalked through the door and into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. "Professor Lupin has taken ill and is unavailable. I will be teaching in his absence. Turn to page 394."
The sound of rustling pages and near-silent groans filled the classroom as Harry flipped through the heavy book, past the chapters on water demons, Red Caps and even Acromantula. Finally, his fingers brushed across the braille lettering in the corner for '394' and he skimmed his hand across the page to the heading.
"Werewolves." Harry whispered the word to himself as he read the first few lines of the page with a slight frown.
"Professor? We aren't supposed to be covering Werewolves yet, we're still on XXX rated creatures-" Susan had her hand raised but hadn't waited to be called on, she was always oddly confident in the face of Professor Snape.
"Yes I am aware Miss Bones, put your hand down." Snape snapped as he flicked his wand at the blackboard and a piece of chalk began to scribble across its surface. "After the events of the Hogsmeade trip last week and Greyback's subsequent disappearance, the Headmaster agreed it would be wise to educate you all on the dangers of such monsters."
The reminder of the spoiled Hogsmeade visit was enough to stifle any more questions when combined with the Potions Master's dour expression. Harry quickly ran his fingertips across the pages covering Werewolves in his book as Professor Snape tapped the blackboard with his wand and began his lecture.
"Now the origins of these beasts are lost to the ages, but there are many theories and legends which reference them from millennia past such as the tale of King Lycaon of Arcadia who was cursed by the gods or the Ancient Nordic Skinwalkers who used animal pelts to transform. While we do not know the exact origins of the curse, the effects have been well documented and while some of the legends are patently ridiculous, some hold a grain of truth.
Werewolves will transform on the Full Moon and the Wolfsbane Potion does not prevent this, however it does allow the creature to retain some fraction of their minds instead of succumbing to the curse entirely. The Wolfsbane Potion is inordinately difficult to brew for most and so is a commodity rarely afforded. Instead, most who of the monsters use either a heavily warded section of woodland in Europe that the ICW control or are bound in cages or enchanted rooms to hold them during their transformations. Any Werewolf found transformed in Britain not bound or caged can immediately be sentenced to ten years in Azkaban or for life if they have injured or turned another Witch or Wizard.
Alchemically pure Silver will cause immense pain to Werewolves when transformed, however due to its rarity it is not commonly used against them. Mundane Silver will do nothing and conjured Silver can on occasion cause discomfort due to its magical origin but again it is difficult to achieve so rarely used."
"Can any of you tell me another viable defence against a transformed Werewolf?" Snape arched an eyebrow as he surveyed the classroom and Harry felt Terry shift nervously beside him before raising his hand. "Boot?"
"Um ... Fire?"
"An obvious answer but not incorrect, though the conjured fire would need to be exceptionally hot to do any real damage to the creature. I doubt any in this classroom could achieve such..." It was difficult to tell because of the way Harry's sight fell across Snape's face but he was fairly sure the man was staring at him as he let the sentence tail off for a long moment. "While your books will detail several methods to deter a Werewolf such as drowning or binding them physically, in truth you should simply flee if you encounter one as even Auror's will only face them when absolutely necessary and never alone."
A girl in the back raised their hand and it took Harry a moment to recall the girl's name, Megan Jones, she was usually quiet and friendly with the Gryffindor girls but had bravely called Professor Snape's attention to herself.
"You have a question?" The disdain was audible in Snape's voice as he stared at the brave Hufflepuff who looked to be undaunted.
"Last year Professor Lockhart told us about the Homorphous Charm he used to turn a Werewolf back into a man-"
"Lockhart was wrong. The Homorphous Spell is not a charm nor is it of any use against a Werewolf. The Homorphous Spell is a complicated piece of Transfiguration used to reverse an Animagus Transformation, it will do nothing to a Werewolf except irritate it, a skill you already seem adept in." Megan sank down into her chair at the rebuke and Professor Snape stalked back to the blackboard. "The incident Lockhart referred to was in Armenia where a Wolf Animagus was terrorising a village by pretending to be a Werewolf. The difference between a Werewolf and an Animagus is?"
Harry raised his hand and noticed that only Susan had raised her own as well. He was sure that more knew the answer, but the fierce reaction Snape had to even the slightest inaccuracy was enough to put them off.
"Potter."
"A Werewolf is bitten and has a curse imparted onto them, they have no choice when they transform and retain no control over themselves while they are under the effects of a Full Moon. An Animagus studies and eventually masters a difficult branch of Transfiguration which allows them to transform at will between their human and animal forms and while transformed they remain in control, though sometimes the animal instincts of their form will sway their actions." Harry took a breath as he considered his next words carefully, so far he had only recounted the information he had read in the assigned Transfiguration textbook, but he had come across an entry on Werewolves in one of the Braille books in the Library that went into more detail on the cursed shapeshifters. There were definitely some Braille books that had slipped through the Librarian's notice, the detail some of them went into for more esoteric or dangerous magic was...disturbing in some cases. "Werewolves are driven by their curse to hunt and attack any human's nearby, sometimes they just bite the prey but other times they will then kill and ... eat the body. It's believed this is because they have some way to detect when the curse will be more likely to kill the host than transform them, though there are still cases where the victim dies during the first Full Moon after the bite. Werewolves can only be distracted from the hunt by another Werewolf or a predator that they see as a real threat to their lives."
There was a long beat of silence as Harry waited for the Professor's response, he expected some vitriol or angered correction from the Potions Master.
"...An acceptable answer. Now read the chapter on Werewolves from your books and for homework I expect a foot of parchment on the Lycanthropy Curse, it's potential origins and how to recognise one afflicted by it."
By the end of the lesson Harry was certain of two facts. First was that Professor Snape hated Werewolves with a passion, he had described them as 'beasts', 'monsters' and 'abominations' and the man's magic had roiled aggressively a few times during the lecture, even if his voice had remained level for most of it. Second was that Werewolves were immensely dangerous when transformed but, despite what some texts stated, were relatively normal (for magical folk) the rest of the time. Nothing about the curse meant those afflicted with it were more likely to be sadistic or cruel, but with the way some Ministries treated them it was unsurprising that so many had turned to crime or banding together in 'dangerous' packs to survive.
This thought stayed with Harry until he sat down in the Charms classroom and Professor Flitwick called the room to order from his place atop the precariously stacked books behind his lectern.
"Vald Rike"
Harry had made it a point to keep practicing with the gravity spell he had impressed Professor Flitwick with. It was exceedingly difficult and, in most cases, not worth the effort compared to the far simpler Levitation Charm, but knowing he could exert control over gravity itself drew him back time and manipulate a fundamental force of nature, it was almost intoxicating.
He was still limited in the size of the area he could apply the effect to, but he had at least moved up to being able to lift one of the three-legged stools that remained in the abandoned classroom he and his friends had claimed in the Charms corridor. It still caused him to hunch from the backlash as he took dominion over the gravity acting on the stool, but the strain no longer felt bone-breaking and he was debating moving on to one of the larger chairs that were stacked against the wall when the door swung open with a crash.
"Oh ... sorry Harry ... I didn't think anyone else would be in here yet." Neville mumbled from the doorway. His magic roiled and spiked with frustration that was rare from the usually placid Gryffindor.
"S'okay Nev, what happened?" Harry gently let the stool settle on the floor before he released his hold on the spell as Neville took a seat on one of the other chairs in the room.
"Hermione and Ron again. He reckons his rat is dying and blamed Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. Well anyway, now his rat is missing and the two of them were pointing wands at each other when I left." Neville explained with a sigh. "And worse, they drag anyone nearby into the argument. I mean, I'm sorry for Ron and everything but Percy mentioned he found the rat in their garden when he was eight or something so surely the thing can't have long left in it anyway!"
"Could it be a magical rat?" Harry asked absently as he tried to recall the magical creatures he had read about in his time at Hogwarts and if any resembled a long-lived rat.
"I suppose it could be a Rat-King," Neville mused for a moment before he shook his head, "Oh wait, nope it's missing a toe on one of its paws."
Harry had never heard of a 'Rat-King' and his confusion must have shown on his face as Neville quickly explained his statement.
"Oh Rat-King's are pretty rare but they are magical rats that attract other rodents and can even control them, but the attraction is sometimes too strong so the rats get all tangled up and their tails knot together. Normal rats would die or at least lose their tails, but Rat-Kings can regrow their whole bodies as long as a piece of their tail survives so if Scabbers is missing a toe then it can't be a Rat-King."
"Scabbers? What a lovely name."
"Isn't it? The Twins named it that after Percy tried to name it something poncy and I guess it stuck." That drew a laugh from Harry, it did sound like something the Twins would do. "Oh I forgot to say, Professor Lupin is back in his office now, you wanted to see him didn't you?"
"Oh ... yes." Harry let out a sigh and stood up slowly. "Yes I suppose I should go and see him, are you going to be okay here?"
"Oh yeah, I just wanted somewhere quiet to do some reading anyway." Neville pulled a book from his bag, no doubt something on obscure magical plants, and settled into one of the chairs happily.
Harry smiled and left the green-fingered Gryffindor to his peaceful reading. It was only a short walk down the corridor and around the corner until he reached an innocuous section of blank wall between twin portraits of Cerberi that barked quietly at his approach. It was one of the trickier secret passages Harry had found, not least because even with the portraits being enchanted the images on them were a fuzzy blur in his sight. It was only after overhearing someone else complain about the aggressive three-headed portraits that he had realised what he needed to do to reveal the entrance to the passage.
While playing a melody on an instrument was beyond him, he was capable of whistling a tune until the guardians of canvas and paint settled into satisfied snoring. Once they did so he pushed firmly on one of the stone blocks and a section of wall swung open near silently to reveal a staircase that descended for exactly twenty-seven steps until Harry suddenly had a face full of ancient dust covered cloth.
He had used this passageway three times since finding the trick to it at the end of second year and each time the sudden appearance of the back of the tapestry surprised him. One moment he would be walking down a seemingly endless staircase, the next he was walking out from a solid wall and into the back of a tapestry which, according to Terry at least, depicted an enormous black metal gate that led to Tartarus. He had figured out that the exit occurred on the twenty-seventh step, but the exact moment changed each time. On his first occasion it was the moment his foot touched the step, the next was when he began to step off the twenty-seventh step and the third was actually as he lifted his foot from the twenty-sixth step, causing him to almost fall on his face if not for the old tapestry.
With a cough to clear the dust from his mouth, Harry pushed his way free of the weaving and stepped out into a corridor just around the corner from the Defence classroom. He walked across to the classroom and resisted the urge to draw his wand as he knocked, but he did keep a firm grip of his cane when the weary voice from within called for him to enter.
"Ah Harry, eager to practice the Patronus again? I'm afraid I have some marking for the fifth years to finish but perhaps this afternoon I could set aside a half hour?" Professor Lupin remarked from his seat behind the desk at the front of the classroom, and indeed he did have a towering pile of parchment rolls on his right and a much smaller pile on his left that he added to with a sigh. "The number of students who don't know the difference between Reducto and Reducio is seriously concerning..."
"One is a Jinx for destroying objects and the other is a shrinking Charm and counters the Engorgement Charm." Harry answered automatically and he coughed embarrassedly when he realised Lupin's words weren't meant for him.
"Two points for Gryffindor for correcting an Owl student's work." Lupin smiled genially.
"Oh er thanks Professor but I wasn't actually here about the Patronus." Harry tapped his cane nervously against the stone floor as he tried to focus on his breathing to keep calm. "I ... you heard about the Hogsmeade trip and what happened? And Professor Snape's essay?" He added the second question hurriedly and his tapping picked up speed as he waited for the Professor's reaction.
"I think most of Britain has a general idea of what happened in Hogsmeade, but if you mean the fact you all but captured a ... dangerous wizard on your own in the Three Broomsticks, then yes Albus informed me." There was a rumbling edge to the Defence Professor's voice by the end of his words and Harry couldn't hide the flinch when the thin silver slashes in his otherwise warm brown magic pulsed and swelled for a moment. It reminded him vividly of the encounter in Hogsmeade and the only other person he had met with similar scarring to their magic.
"As for Professor Snape's essay, as I told the others who came asking about it, I won't be expecting anyone to hand it in and there will be no punishments for not completing it. Though if you do, I will of course grade it." Professor Lupin leaned back and regarded Harry carefully for a moment when the Ravenclaw reacted with only a slow nod before he pushed the essay he had been marking aside and gestured to the tapping cane. "Is there something else you wished to ask me Harry?"
"Are you ... a Werewolf, Professor Lupin?"
There the question was asked and Harry prepared for the shouting, or worse, that was sure to follow.
"Ah. Well I suppose it makes sense you would figure it out, your parents actually took longer to do so." A much calmer reply than Harry was expecting broke the silence and he was shocked to notice the Professor seemed to be smiling. "I can neither confirm or deny your query Harry, but I must ask, if I am what you believe then why confront me? Why not tell another member of staff?"
"They must already know. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have missed it and Professor Snape definitely knows after the lesson he gave, besides you've been helping me with the Dementors and you're the best Defence Professor we've had in years." Now that the possibility of violence, remote as Harry had believed it to be, was gone he stopped his nervous tapping and settled for leaning on the cane as he answered the Professor.
"Yes I did wonder who might guess after Severus' little prompt. Well I understand if you don't wish for me to assist you with the Patronus Charm after this Harry, I will let Filius know you will need his help from now on."
"Why wouldn't I want you to help me? You haven't tried to eat me in any of our lessons, I doubt you'll start now."
"You ..." Professor Lupin seemed stunned for a moment before he let out a short bark-like laugh. "You remind me so much of your parents sometimes Harry. Very well, have you been practicing with memories?"
"Yes I have a few more to try that I think might work."
"Very well, come back after lunch and we will try again with the Boggart."
The Winter Break arrived suddenly and with little fanfare. One day the school was full and the next the majority of the students had left for three weeks ofquality time with family and friends around crackling fires and tinselled trees. Once again, Harry had been advised by his aunt to remain at Hogwarts as Vernon had decided rather abruptly that the family should visit Marge over the Christmas period. Petunia apologised and Harry thought he could feel little patches where she had cried over the Braille letter.
"I think Aunt Petunia might have a rough Christmas this year." Harry murmured as he ran a finger across Kyrre's feathers. There was little he could do to help her from the torment of dealing with Marge, the odious woman was truly a horror, but he could at least send her some comfort with his Hrafn's help. "Could you head down to her and visit her Christmas Eve, sometime late at night when the other's will be asleep?"
Kyrre cocked her corvine head and nodded slowly and a moment later Harry had a fleeting impression of a feathery hug press against his mind as the large bird pressed her beak against his forehead before she hopped away. She bent down to pick up a sausage and took off, aiming for the opening at the top of the Great Hall that owls used to enter and leave.
It was a quiet breakfast with only a few other Ravenclaw's still in the Castle, most were in their Owl or Newt years and were studying even as they tried to feed themselves without looking away from their books. Harry was no exception, with Kyrre gone he pulled out the book he had borrowed from the Library once again. Regis de la Rue had lived an extraordinary life and his memoir was equally extraordinary.
Each time Harry read it, he found new chapters that he was certain hadn't been there on his previous readings. The autobiography was enchanted in some way that he couldn't decipher, the magic woven into the very ink and vellum of the book, but none of it seemed malicious and he had been assured that the Library had enchantments to alert the school of dangerous books not kept in the Restricted Section.
This was his third time reading the book and this time he had found more detailed chapters on the Frenchman's time at Beauxbaton's , specifically his time studying under the Immortal Alchemist himself. Nicolas Flamel had taught at Beauxbaton's several times over the centuries and had been there for the six years Regis had attended before the nobles of France decided that commoners shouldn't study alongside those of higher standing. Six years was a long time to spend under the wing of a wizard like Flamel though and, while the chapters didn't detail any new spells this time they did go into depth on Flamel's beliefs about magic and his own personal spellcasting technique.
Much of it was too advanced for Harry's understanding, even with his prodigious talent he was still only a third-year and there were whole paragraphs he couldn't decipher, most seemed beyond Owl or even Newt level. But what little he could understand was still very interesting, there were even some half-formed ideas for duelling that he noted to look into when he had a chance.
Harry was so engrossed in the book that he didn't notice when most of the rest of the hall emptied, but he did start when a beak pecked his hand. An owl stood radiating indignation with a letter tied to its leg and its beak ready to peck again before he grabbed the letter and offered a rasher of cold bacon in apology. The bird took the offering, though its beak veered dangerously close to his fingertips, and took off as he opened the letter and ran his hand across it.
Dear Harry,
You are hereby invited to this year's Christmas Day gathering, I will of course be there alongside the grumpy old man and the toymaker.
Your Aunt has already given her permission and Filius has agreed to escort you again. Please let him know if there is a problem.
Sincerely,
Percival Dearborn
And indeed, his Head of House found him in the Common Room Christmas morning ready to set off. He had already opened the presents sent to him by friends and family and was wearing a new jumper and tinted glasses his aunt had sent him, as well a very supple feeling Dragon-hide belt that Susan had sent for him. He hoped she liked the fur-lined gloves he had gifted her in return, he had been assured by Terry that the yellow and black leather looked lovely and not at all 'like a bumblebee'.
"Merry Christmas Harry, are you ready to go?" Professor Flitwick was wearing one of his signature three-piece suits with a cloak thrown over the top to stave off the chill that lingered despite the cheerfully crackling fires that littered the castle.
"Merry Christmas, Professor, yes let me just..." Harry stood from his seat and reached down to grab the lumpy sack of gifts and the cane that lay atop it before he straightened and followed the Charms Master out of the entrance to the tower.
The short mage led Harry down the corridor and onto the Grand Staircase but then stepped off on the first floor instead of continuing down to the ground floor and the main entrance. Harry considered questioning the professor but quickly decided against it, the man had walked these halls for longer than Harry had been alive and was unlikely to be lost so must have a purpose in mind for the detour.
"Ah here we are." Professor Flitwick knocked firmly on a familiar door, the Defence classroom, and waited for a long moment before the door opened to reveal Professor Lupin shrugging on a tired looking cloak that Harry see had been repaired with magic multiple times over its life. "Merry Christmas Remus."
"Merry Christmas Filius." Lupin smiled and closed the door behind him as he patted his pockets and nodded to the young Ravenclaw. "And Merry Christmas to you Harry, I hope you don't mind me tagging along but Alastor invited me."
"Merry Christmas Professor Lupin," Harry stepped aside to let the two professors pass him on the way back towards the stairs before he followed. "No not at all, the more the merrier!"
"Thank you, Harry, and please, I think for today you can just call me Remus."
The unusual trio made their way down the stairs and out into the eerily quiet entrance hall, then through the enormous doors that opened out to the courtyard and the path that led down to the main gates. Despite it being midmorning, the sun was still half-hidden behind the mountains to the east and the thick clouds, enough that Professor Flitwick summoned a hovering light to help see the icy stone path. The werelight was no help to Harry but that was where his stave proved its more mundane purpose as he let it aid him when his footing was less sure.
They soon reached the gates but, without a word shared between them, all slowed their pace until they came to a stop some dozen paces from the enchanted stone and iron boundary. For hovering on the other side of the gates were two Dementors, initially they had been facing out towards the faint lights of Hogsmeade but, sensing their approach, had turned to watch the teachers and student for the last few steps.
"Unfortunately we need to cross the ward lines to apparate, and after your previous experiences with them I am loathe to force you any closer Harry." Filius tapped his foot as he considered the floating creatures for a few breaths, each one misting into a cold cloud that dissipated slowly in the chilly air. "Remus tells me you've made remarkable progress with your Patronus, you can conjure a shield reliably now, yes?"
"I wouldn't say remarkable but ... yes, I can form a shield with the Boggart at least." Harry was rather proud of that feat, it had taken hours of practice and hundreds of failed attempts but he had managed to force the Boggart back into the chest three times in a row in the last session.
"How do you feel about trying your wand against the real thing?" Filius gestured towards the looming spectres with a grin.
Harry frowned behind his new tinted glasses and took a few deep breaths as he considered the prospect of facing the soul-sucking demons that seemed eager for him to step closer. He had succeeded against the Boggart, but that was a diluted version of the real thing and even then, it hadn't been easy.
"Filius I don't -" Lupin started to speak, wanting to suggest an alternative approach but he was too late.
"I'll give it a go." Harry was surprised to hear himself say the words but he was already drawing his wand from the new holster that hung under his left arm, a gift from Neville and one he was grateful for as his old one had been getting too tight against his back and shoulders.
"Excellent, now we will be here ready to step in but I have faith in you Harry, trust in yourself." Filius smiled and drew his own wand but held it only loosely as he waited for Harry to make the attempt.
It was a daunting five steps until he was almost level with the bestial stone gargoyles that guarded the castle-side of the gates and the temperature dropped with each step until Harry could feel frost creeping across the exposed metal of his glasses. Each step also made focussing on his chosen memory more difficult as the oppressive aura of the Dementor's fell ever heavier across him.
It was worse than the Boggart, of that Harry had no doubt. The cold was sharper. The panic that bubbled in his chest was deeper. It threatened to overwhelm him as he stopped next to the winged-boar statue and tried to calm his mind.
But it wasn't as bad as he remembered it. On the train he had known that he was helpless against the cloaked monstrosity. It was an instinctive, primal knowledge that had forced its way to the forefront of his mind during the encounter. That no matter what magic he conjured, he would falter and fail in the face of the demon that wanted him and his friends. Now though, he knew that was not the case. There was a magic that could fight them. He might not have mastered it yet, but he knew it existed and he could summon a fraction of its potential. And that knowledge was enough.
"Expecto Patronum!"
In Harry's sight the green of his magic flowed down his wand and bloomed like a flower, turning cloudy and white as it spread and formed a swirling barrier between him and the Dementors. It filled much of the space in the open gateway and the pressure against it was immediate as the two Dementors recoiled from the magic that was anathema to them.
"Oh good show Harry!" Professor Flitwick cried gleefully as he stepped alongside his student and watched the creatures retreat from the shining beacon until they were almost thirty feet away where they stopped and floated threateningly. "But best not to antagonise them more than necessary, hold on tight."
Professor Lupin stepped up and grabbed the Head of Ravenclaw's shoulder as Harry gripped his arm and let his spell fade. The moment the misty barrier began to dissipate, the Dementors surged closer but they were too slow. The Scottish Highlands twisted around the trio and a few uncomfortable seconds later they arrived with a soft crack in front of a familiar building.
The Copper Artifice's was just as Harry remembered, filled with enchanted oddities and a warmth that had little to do with the small woodburner in the back room. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped through and stamped off the light dusting of snow on their boots.
"Good timing, bring up the box on the counter Filius!" The cheerful voice of Castamir called down from the staircase behind the counter where there was indeed a wooden box about the size of a Quaffle.
"And a very merry Christmas to you as well you lazy sod. Come along Harry, let's get some chocolate into you." Flitwick grumbled light-heartedly as he flicked his wand at the box and had it hover up the stairs ahead of them until they spilled out into the brightly lit lounge above the shopfloor.
"Oh yes Merry Christmas to you Filius, and to you Harry." Castamir hesitated momentarily when Professor Lupin stepped out from the stairwell behind Harry and in his sight he could see that a few of the strands of enchantment that threaded through the walls shivered as the Defence professor stepped into the room but otherwise there was no reaction from the magic and Castamir's hesitation disappeared behind a welcoming smile. "And a Merry Christmas to you as well Remus, you remember Arka?"
"I do indeed, Merry Christmas to the both of you." Lupin smiled and nodded to the Greek wizard and the House-Elf who was arranging a selection of bottles on one of the tables that lined the room.
"Are we the first ones here?" Harry asked as he waved in Arka's direction and received an excited wave in return.
"Indeed you are, though I believe the others should be here shortly. Filius you can leave that on the table there, thank you." Castamir gestured to the table beside the door and then pointed behind him, over the arm of his comfy looking chair towards the array of drinks. "Please help yourselves, though I'm afraid I have been warned you are not allowed Firewhiskey this time Harry."
The sound of the door opening downstairs distracted Harry from replying as the telltale heavy limp of Alastor echoed up the stairs along with the loud greeting of his nephew.
"Merry Christmas to all!" Percival cried as he jumped through the doorway and almost toppled over the chair closest to it. "Oops that could have been embarrassing."
"Could have been." Alastor snorted from behind Percival and stomped into the room with a crooked grin. "Merry Christmas, we all here now then?"
"Merry Christmas Alastor, yes this is all of us." Castamir tapped his foot nonchalantly on the floor but Harry saw the ripple travel along the enchantments as the lines of magic surrounding the room grew taught and thrummed dangerously.
"Good, hullo Harry, how's school treating you?" Alastor asked as he limped over to the drinks table and poured a glass of mead out for himself, though he did give it a suspicious sniff before he sipped from it.
"Hi Alastor, good thanks, how's Dark-Wizard catching treating you?" Harry smirked at the chuckle from the Auror and the heavy pat on the back from the man.
"Right little comedian you are." Alastor led the way back to the armchairs and settled in one facing the door with a sigh before he answered. "I'm getting too old for it to be truthful. Reckon this'll be my last year before I retire."
"Yes and a Hippogriff will shit gold." Castamir muttered which earned him a rude gesture from the older Auror Captain. "Come on Alastor, you would die of boredom if you weren't out there hunting, even if you are slowing down a bit in your old age."
"I am not slowing down you little shit. S'not the hunting I'm too old for, it's the politics." Castamir nodded in understanding at the reply.
"Is Scrimgeour still Head Auror?" Lupin asked as he sat down in one of the other chairs.
"Aye and he's in a pissing match with one of Fudge's lickspittles at the moment, we've lost funding for new armour and trying to get permits for emergency Portkeys has become a nightmare."
"I heard about this, didn't Scrimgeour catch her down Knockturn trying to buy Amortentia from a Hag?" Percival asked with a snort.
"No one is sure, Scrimgeour is keeping his trap shut tight about it and the official report disappeared before it was filed but from what I've heard it was a lust potion of some sort."
"Merlin, I pity the wizard the Undersecretary wants to-" Percival started to speak but a sharp cough from Professor Flitwick cut him off the Curse-breaker settled for taking a sip from his drink instead.
Any further conversation about the romantic life of Ministry workers was put off when Arka announced that the food was ready and a feast that rivalled the Hogwarts kitchens appeared on the tables that lined the room, with roasted turkey and goose, sweet carrots and crispy potatoes and a plethora of other foods. So much in fact that the tables groaned slightly at the sudden weight, but managed to remain standing.
Only after they had gorged themselves on Arka's bounty, did they settle back into armchairs by the fire and the gift-giving began. Castamir insisted he go first as the host and promptly summoned the wooden box Filius had brought up from the storefront.
"Alastor, this is for you."
The Auror Captain raised an eyebrow and turned his enchanted eye towards it for several long seconds before a somewhat grim smile split his craggy features.
"Do I want to know how you got this across the border?" The question prompted a chuckle from Castamir and a shake of the head. "Well I s'pose it'd be a waste not to accept it. Cheers, Leventis."
The rest of the gifts were less secretive but Alastor kept the box on the arm of his chair with a scarred hand atop it. In the end Harry received a new enchanted quill from Castamir that could even detect someone whispering across the room and print their words in Braille, something that drew a somewhat disapproving look from the two Professor's but made Alastor chuckle. Then Percival handed out his own gifts and gave Harry a gold coin he had found in one of the pyramids, it wasn't enchanted but it was at least three millennia old and Harry found himself running his fingers over the remarkably well-preserved etchings upon it throughout the afternoon.
Then it was Harry's turn and he handed out the gifts in his bag until he reached Professor Lupin who smiled understandingly.
"Not to worry Harry, seeing you cast that Patronus was present enough for me." Lupin's words caused an explosive cough from Alastor and a short clap from Castamir.
"You cast a Patronus? Surely not a corporeal one?" Alastor asked after he soothed his throat with a drink.
"No, it was just a shield and it was only two Dementors, it's really not that -" Harry tried to explain as he shuffled back to his seat but this time Percival cut him off.
"Bloody hell, Harry I couldn't manage a Patronus in any form until a few years ago, let alone one strong enough to repel two Dementors!"
"Aye its bloody impressive Harry, I've got a few Auror's that can't cast that spell, and I know a fair few of the Hit Wizards can't do it."
Harry did his best not to blush at the praise and instead turned to Filius who was next to hand out the presents, but he couldn't help but feel proud that he had impressed the group of accomplished wizards. Even if he had yet to master the Patronus Charm, he was pleased with the progress he had made in only a few months.
END