Chapter 13: Thoughts of the Dark
Harry's heart felt like it was hammering away at a thousand beats per minute as the last of the dark-skinned elfin figures vanished beyond the gate to the Illithid colony and the gate closed. He let out a long breath and allowed himself to drift back to the ground. He immediately collapsed against the side of a tree as it felt like all his bones had turned to jelly and his muscles went lax. He remembered this feeling from two years before when the ghost of Tom Riddle faded away after Harry had stabbed the diary it was possessing with a basilisk's fang. His body was surprised that it was still alive and all the tension and pain that he had been ignoring as he struggled to stay that way had at last been allowed to hit him.
He had gone back to the Illithid colony. Harry had never meant to do that without an army of wizards backing him up, and maybe a muggle army too for that matter. But what choice had he had?
He had been enjoying a calm summer night looking out over the sleeping neighborhood of Little Whinging when his ESP had allowed him to catch a glimpse of a magical eye floating above the distant forest. It had been casting its gaze back and forth, searching for something amidst the scattered suburbs. When Harry had reached out with his senses and felt Illithid minds in the forest, he had panicked. He couldn't have allowed them to come looking for him, so he had gone out to meet them.
From there everything happened so quickly. When an Illithid had challenged him, he had beaten their mind into submission to intimidate the others. He had gone with them back to the colony because to refuse would've drawn the anger of the Elder Brain down on him. And he had reported everything that he had done in the last year as truthfully as he could to not give it any chance to mistrust him.
Harry had no choice but to stay in the Elder Brain's good graces. Sure, he could easily overpower the mind of an Illithid, his own psychic strength had grown considerably in the last year. But that was just one Illithid, and it hadn't really been fighting back, not after its initial resistance anyway. Harry was an Ulitharid after all, he outranked any mere Illithid.
But the Illithids would fight back against him if the Elder Brain ordered them too. And Harry couldn't possibly fight back against dozens of them, let alone the hundreds or even thousands of Illithids that the colony could send to subdue him. Especially since that subjugation force would almost certainly be led by the colony's other Ulitharid: Professor Trainer.
The last time Harry had stood before the older Ulitharid he had possessed psychic power for less than a day, this time he could more accurately judge the other's strength. Professor Trainer was a beacon of psionic might, every bit as powerful as Harry was. And he had had far more time to practice with his power and sharpen his skills. Harry doubted he could take down the other Ulitharid in a one-on-one fight.
And the Elder Brain was even more powerful than that. As high above Harry and Professor Trainer as they were above the regular Illithids. Harry dreaded the thought of facing either of them in open battle. Better to get a large muggle bomb and see if he could safely kill them both from a distance than risk an open duel against either.
Harry's thoughts only grew more panicked and wilder as he considered such things. To calm himself he reached inside his own head and felt the bundle of sensations that was his connection to Ron and Hermione. The bond between them had been weakened by the distance that separated them, Harry couldn't hear their thoughts or view their memories. He could feel their emotions though and get a sense of what they were physically experiencing.
They were both experiencing a profound sense of relief and were clutching as hard to Harry's image in their own heads as he was to them. It was as if they had both been in a blind panic just minutes ago and were now settling themselves down. On the one hand, Harry quite liked this, it was as if they were all mentally hugging each other, taking strength from each other's existence. On the other Harry's panic grew a little worse with worry over his friends. Had something been happening to them? Had they been in danger while he was away? He sensed no pain from either of them and hadn't felt so much as a twinge from them the whole time he had been in the colony.
Actually, had he been able to feel them in the colony at all come to think of it? He had been so focused on the Elder Brain he hadn't been able to spare a thought for his friends. In fact, he had pushed his thoughts away from them quite deliberately, less the Elder Brain realized that he didn't keep them under the same tight control that other Illithids did with their thralls.
You couldn't feel them in the colony. Esharry confirmed. I don't think that the gate they made can transmit psych energy. Otherwise, the Elder Brain could've summoned you the moment it was open. The bond likely couldn't convey anything at all between us due to the distance between the colony and earth.
So, Harry had all but vanished from Ron and Hermione's minds? That was terrible! They must have thought he had died all of a sudden. Harry had never meant to put them through that. He should've thought of some way to warn them what was happening.
Harry felt so awful at the thought of having scared his friends that his panic was slowly pushed out of his mind. The fact that Ron and Hermione calmed down enough to actually understand what Harry was feeling and then started pushing thoughts of comfort and affection through the bond also helped. It took a minute or two, but Harry's heart slowly calmed and a feeling of strength returned to his limbs. Harry sent waves of gratitude back to his friends and straightened up.
Harry was tempted to try the new means of sending information that Professor Trainer had taught him to let his friends know what had happened. But he was hesitant to go experimenting with psychic powers on his friends. It would be much better to accidentally poke the Elder Brain with a psychic stick then endanger people he actually cared about. He would send them letters instead.
His mind centered, Harry levitated himself back into the air and floated out of the forest. With a clear head he could now fully consider everything that had happened. He went over the good news first.
The Elder Brain believed his report and was pleased with the progress he had made. So, Harry's deception was working and he still had time to plot the colony's downfall. That was definitely good.
The Elder Brain thought Harry was working to restore the Empire, a tremendously important work as far as Illithids were concerned. It wouldn't disturb Harry from his mission if he had any other options. So, if the Elder Brain was interrupting his mission with this teleportation circle business, then that likely meant it didn't have anyone else that could do it in Harry's place. So that meant the Elder Brain hadn't inserted any other agents onto the earth while Harry had been away at School. Hopefully this also meant the Illithids hadn't abducted anyone from the earth either and so Harry's slow approach to dealing with the Illithid threat hadn't gotten anyone killed. An excellent thought to consider.
And if the nautiloid was in the possession of another colony then the Elder Brain wouldn't have an easy time inserting any agents behind Harry's back in the near future. The less contact the Illithids could have with the earth the better in Harry's mind. And the fact that because of this the Elder Brain wanted a teleportation circle set up implied one other bit of good news.
Surely the other colony could use the nautiloid to provide Harry with back up just as easily as his colony could. And surely, they would be willing to do that if they knew what Harry was doing. Restoring the Empire was something every Illithid wanted to see done. So, the fact that Harry's colony thought only they could provide Harry with reinforcements and resources suggested that no other colony knew about Harry or the earth.
This might be a wild hope on Harry's part. Perhaps it was just that communication between colonies was slow and awkward. That there was some reason why Professor Trainer couldn't transmit his thoughts to another Elder Brain the way Harry could report back to the colony. But Harry hoped that anything that caused mistrust between colonies and frustrated communications might be strong enough to keep knowledge of the earth from spreading as well.
I think you're right. Esharry put in. Elder Brain's don't trust each other. There used to be connections between Elder Brains back in the days of the Empire just like there are connections between Illithids. But these days each colony is independent, and the Elder Brains are distrustful of anything that isn't under their direct control.
The Elder Brain trusts you with this mission because the mission is too important for it not to. Esharry noted. But it would want to keep you isolated and under its influence. Another Elder Brain might be able to offer you support it cannot since its resources are already being divided with Professor Trainer. If you don't need it, you might strike out on your own and cut it out of access to the world that might well become the future center of the Empire Restored.
Okay that was good then. This meant that if Harry could wipe out the colony that had made him, no other Illithid colonies would know about the earth, and they wouldn't pose a threat to it. So, Harry only had a city of thirty thousand enemies to deal with, not an entire nation's worth. That made things slightly easier.
The bad news was all the rest. Harry had to find a place for a teleportation circle to get set up. Just the thought made him want to let out a string of curses that would make Hermione give him such a dirty look. Every advantage that visit had given him would be thrown out the window. Easy and reliable access to the earth for the Illithids whenever they wanted. It was a worst-case scenario.
And it wasn't like Harry could refuse to do it either. Open defiance at this point would only get him killed and the Illithids would start a direct invasion of the world. Actually, a direct invasion would be a best-case scenario, people might catch on to that happening and start fighting back. They might decide to carry out Harry's supposed plan for real this time. Subvert a few wizards, get them into the ministry, gradually take it over and then use the wizards to mind control the muggles and conquer the planet without firing a shot.
Could he try and contact these Githyanki creatures? Maybe leak the location of the Illithid colony to them and let them take it out? Harry couldn't travel to other worlds but maybe this new means of broadcasting his thoughts might help.
They would be able to tell it was an Illithid reaching out to them. Esharry shot down. They wouldn't trust the message and would likely come here and kill you. Of course, they would then keep a close eye on this planet and might catch on to the invasion when it started. But they might also try to invade the planet themselves. The Githyanki might be anti-Illithid, but they aren't nice people.
An emergency backup plan then. If Harry was going to sacrifice himself, he would prefer to turn himself over to the ministry. But honestly, after how badly Minister Fudge had screwed up dealing with Sirius, he wasn't certain he trusted the current ministry to handle an Illithid invasion.
And Dumbledore might not give the matter all the attention it deserves. Esharry added. He'll be more worried about Voldemort returning since that's a threat he actually understands and has experience with.
But the situation isn't hopeless. Esharry assured him. We can delay for a time at least. It's not like we even know a good location for a circle to get set up. Illithids would prefer someplace underground since the sunlight hurts their eyes, and it's not like England is world famous for its many cave complexes.
Harry wouldn't suggest one even if he knew of it. Too big a risk that some poor muggle spelunker would stumble into it and get their minds destroyed as they were made into a thrall. Or worse their souls would get destroyed with a tadpole shoved into their head. Maybe he could find out the location of the secret boggart cave? That was sealed off so Illithids that showed up there would be trapped.
No, that was a terrible idea. That would give the Illithids an army of a thousand mind reading shapeshifters who sort of enjoyed being mentally dominated. And if they found a way out then Harry would have no way of keeping track of their movements. If Harry had to do this, he wanted the Illithids contained to someplace he could keep an eye on them.
That would mean somewhere around Hogwarts. Esharry noted. Unless you mean to give up on your magical education which would be a terrible idea.
Yeah no. If Harry wouldn't risk some unknown muggle stumbling into the Illithids' grasp he wasn't going to let there be any chance of a Hogwarts student running into them. This was getting out of hand.
Harry needed somewhere underground, or at least that was always dark, that he could always keep an eye on, where there was no chance of anyone ever accidentally stumbling into it, such as someplace only he could reliably get into. As if such a perfect secret hiding place could…. Ever…. Exist….
Oh that might work. Esharry agreed as he saw the direction that Harry's thoughts were turning. The Chamber of Secrets would be the perfect place for it.
The Chamber of Secrets had been made perhaps more than a thousand years ago by Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts school. A secret location that didn't even show up on the Marauder's Map. Salazar had used it to house a giant basilisk snake to protect the school and cleanse it of those he thought of as impure. Only three people had ever found it, the first had been Tom Riddle.
Ron and Harry had broken into it two years ago to rescue Ron's sister Ginny when she was kidnapped and taken there by the possessed diary that had been taking over her mind. They found the entrance to it in the second floor's girls' bathroom, behind one of the sinks marked with a tiny image of a snake. The entrance could only be opened by people who spoke the magical language of snakes which wizards called parseltongue. Voldemort and Harry were both parselmouths and so could speak parseltongue, Harry suspected he had gained the ability by absorbing part of the shard of Voldemort's soul that was apparently stuck in his head.
As far as Harry knew he was the only parselmouth in the school, which meant he was likely the only person in the school who could access the chamber of secrets. If he stuck the Illithids in there he could keep an eye on them and there would be almost no chance of anyone stumbling across them. That would work perfectly.
Dammit! This meant he couldn't just write this off with the excuse he couldn't find a suitable location. He would have to actually summon that arcanist so he could make the blasted circle now.
Well at least we'll get a chance to meet with that arcanist again. Esharry tried to look on the bright side. He could be quite useful to us. From what I saw of his memories he had learned a very different approach to magic than ours. It could be very useful to learn both.
Harry shrugged at the thought and opened the door to get back into his house. This evening had been a net negative all round. He had been forced back to the Illithid colony, he had frightened the life out of Ron and Hermione, he had a stupid and dangerous task to do for the Elder Brain that he couldn't get out of. He had even accidentally swallowed the mandrake leaf he had been keeping in his mouth for half of July when the Illithids' arrival startled him. It was all a waste of progress and a needless complication for the next year. What a rotten way to end his birthday.
The summer so far at least had been fairly productive for Harry. His homework hadn't taken him more than a few weeks to complete. His relatives didn't expect much of him, since they were scared of Harry's godfather Sirius Black, so Harry had plenty of free time to pursue his own projects. So far Harry had been focused on three in particular.
Firstly, he had been running a series of experiments on his relatives. Even inside Harry's own head it was a heartless thing to have to say. But he had to know some things for certain.
At the end of the previous year Harry had witnessed Draco Malfoy, one of the most self-centered and inconsiderate people that Harry had ever known, actually apologize to Hagrid for things he had said and done. It was one of the greatest moments of mental whiplash that Harry had ever experienced. Harry suspected that the only thing that could've made that possible was that Harry had been feeding Hagrid's own sense of sadness and regret over what had been happening to his hippogriff Buckbeak into Draco's mind. But he didn't know it for certain. It was possible that Draco had just chosen that exact moment to grow a conscience. Magic existed in the world; anything was possible.
But what if Harry's mental manipulation had been the cause of Draco's change of heart? Could Harry have that big of an effect on a person just by forcing them to see things from another perspective? He had to know. So, he was experimenting on his relatives.
Harry's aunt, uncle and cousin were some of the least pleasant people Harry had ever known. When Harry was lucky, they were merely neglectful, ignoring his existence, offering no emotional support, silently judging him just for existing and occasionally forgetting to feed him. Often, they were outright abusive, ridiculing his love of magic, forcing him into cruel living conditions, denying him the chance to complete his schoolwork and prepare his education and occasionally threatening his life. Luckily, they didn't beat him anymore as their fear of his magic held them back from doing their worst. They were simply awful people.
Or so Harry had always assumed when he was growing up. Now that he could see into their minds, he found that his relatives were actually a bit more complex than he had assumed. Oh, don't get him wrong, they were pretty terrible people, but they weren't terrible because they were black hearted souls devoid of human decency, they were terrible because there were rather serious problems going on inside their heads.
Take his cousin for instance. Dudley had two big mental issues. The first was that he had actually been just as badly abused by his parents as Harry had been. Because he always got what he wanted, even when what he wanted had been bad for him and others, he had picked up some truly awful ideas about how to interact with people. He had never learned how to compromise with people or that he had to give as well as take in any relationship.
Dudley bullied people to get his way, so other kids didn't want anything to do with him. Rather than acting nicer to kids around him to make actual friends Dudley just bullied people harder because his parents had taught him that if he screamed long enough, he would eventually get his way. And since Dudley eventually got to be friends with people who were either too frightened of him to ignore him or who wanted to use him against others, this behavior was only reinforced.
Dudley's other big problem was that he didn't really see other people as people. He never had to think about what others felt since only his own desires ever seemed important. So, he couldn't understand what other people were going through.
Case and point: Harry hadn't been a small, helpless, half-starved vulnerable child growing up to Dudley, he had been the freak that his parents always put down and made suffer. When Dudley joined in and abused Harry as well his parents praised him for it and occasionally rewarded him. Harry became a means to get his parents' favor. Beat up the freak and he might get extra food to eat with dinner without having to throw a tantrum for it.
In school this meant Dudley didn't think about what others thought of him so long as they didn't do it out loud. He didn't need to since he could always take what he wanted from others by force. He never noticed that more people were afraid of him than friendly with him. He never noticed that his own so-called friends were always stoking his anger against someone else to aim him like a weapon or else buttering him up with praise to keep him docile.
With this understanding of his cousin Harry worked to reform him over the course of the summer. Harry didn't just invade the man's head and change around his thinking, that would be abusive and evil after all. It would be no different to making him a puppet with magic and mind control. Instead, Harry helped his cousin see things from a new point of view.
Every night when everyone else had gone to bed, Harry would open up his mind and touched Dudley with a few of his own memories or the memories of him that Harry had taken from other people around the neighborhood. Harry showed Dudley what he looked like from outside. The fear he caused, how no one really respected him or admired him, and the pain he had caused others. Harry also showed him memories of Harry interacting with his own friends and what it was like when people hung out for the fun of it, not to get something from each other or out of fear. Finally, Harry gave Dudley the occasional invented vision of what his life could be like if he were a nicer person.
Harry doubted that Dudley actually remembered any of these dreams, but they did seem to have an effect on him. Dudley was a lot warmer to Harry than he had been before. Harry no longer heard rumors of Dudley beating up other kids around the neighborhood. And Dudley had even made a new friend when he came to the defense of some kid rather than picking on him.
It was so weird to actually have normal conversations with his cousin. If Harry didn't know any better, he would say that he was sort of becoming friends with one of his childhood tormentors. Again, Harry was left stunned by how much of an effect some real empathy could have on another person. It made Harry wonder if maybe there was at least a little mind control or something else deeply unethical going on here.
Which led Harry to his other big project for the summer: moral philosophy. Harry had found himself increasingly thinking that maybe the Illithids had gotten a few things right about the world and their civilization. And that sort of worried him, so he worked to convince himself that nothing of the sort could be true.
Hermione's vow to sick social services on Harry's relatives had gotten Harry wondering about why no one in his old muggle life had recognized the signs of a neglected child around them. It wasn't a question he could answer. But it led him to think about all the other people in the world that might have slipped through the cracks of society.
Uncle Vernon was always complaining whenever the government proposed a new social welfare program. As if the thought of helping people in need was offensive. Really though Vernon just didn't like the idea of giving up his own money to help complete strangers. He thought that the government was already doing enough and that any increase in spending was just an excuse for government officials to line their pockets or for lazy people to shirk their responsibilities.
This sort of thing didn't happen in an Illithid society. There were no gaps in the social safety net, because the Elder Brain knew everyone and what they needed. No Illithid complained about having to help total strangers because there were no strangers. The second most powerful Illithid in the colony was on a first name basis with its most abject and belittled failure, he would know why that other Illithid was in that state, how they were suffering and what they needed to recover. Illithid programs didn't suffer corruption and couldn't be abused by exploiters again because everything was done under the absolute watchful gaze of the Elder Brain.
Illithid society had the ultimate referee. Nothing could be done without the Elder Brain knowing and caring. Illithids were free to compete with themselves for power and prestige but there were no real losers in those competitions. No Illithid had to worry about finding shelter for the night, enough food for tomorrow, that a single accident could ruin their life or that they wouldn't eventually receive treatment for an illness. Every Illithid was free to thrive to the best of their abilities without fear of losing out.
Granted most of that was only possible because the Illithids freely exploited a vast underclass of thralls and slaves. But it also wasn't like those thralls had to worry about food, shelter, health or wellness either. An Illithid would exploit their thralls, but they didn't abuse them. If Illithids ever realized that their thralls needed emotional fulfillment and had ambitions of their own which were just as important as their own, they would likely create a utopia that people would actually ask to be part of.
Harry didn't like thinking positive things about the Illithids. He certainly had no desire to help them realize even an idealized version of the Empire on the earth since that would require the enslavement of humanity which was fundamentally wrong. But Harry couldn't deny that if there had been an Elder Brain within five miles of Little Whinging he would never have suffered the way he had growing up.
So, Harry poured over books of morality, philosophy and government structure. He was trying to prove to himself that Illithid society was fundamentally flawed and that humans had come up with ideas far more effective and plausible. It did not help him to read about Plato advocating for slavery and the creation of exploited classes in the Republic. He liked Locke though, he felt there was a lot of truth in this social contract stuff.
Harry's last big project for the summer of course was his work on his new crystal ball. Runes were one of the few things he could work on without magic and he had experimented excessively on runic arrays and how they interacted with Qualith writing and psychic power. He also worked figuring out what was the best material to work with, experimenting on a number of different metals and chemicals before settling on mercury. The liquid quicksilver was difficult to work with, but Harry was confident he could get it to maintain its shape with a freezing charm and by embedding it in his future crystal ball. As for the ball itself Harry had settled on using a chunk of antique obsidian from ancient Milos. The black volcanic glass absorbed both magical and psychic energy like a sponge and could be brought into a harmonic resonance with his own power. He had high hopes for the project.
Sadly, there was nothing more he could do with it right now. Shaping the glass into an orb and embedding the runes in would require a lot of magic which he wasn't allowed to do right now. The first prototype would have to wait until school started.
Harry's last bit of schoolwork was completed on the first Saturday of August when he had taken his ancient runes placement exam. Professor McGonagall had warned him by owl of the date and that she would personally be administering the exam. Harry's relatives didn't much care for the thought of a witch coming into their house, but McGonagall wasn't a woman anyone could really say no to. Her polite demeanor combined with her book no nonsense attitude rolled right over any objection they might have had. All they could do was retreat before her and allow Harry to get on with his exam.
They set up in the dining room. The exam itself was very simple, just what seemed to Harry like basic questions about the three different kinds of Futhark runes, their meanings and how they interacted with each other. Then Harry had to interpret how some runic arrays might function and design an array or two to achieve certain results. He guessed these were the sort of things that had been covered in the first year of the class while everyone was still getting their foundations set up. Compared to what Harry was trying to do with his crystal ball project it was very simple and easy. The exam took two hours to complete, and it only took that long because Harry triple checked everything to make sure there would be no reason to hold him back a year, and because he was slightly distracted watching his relatives watch McGonagall.
Uncle Vernon had retreated from the room and was doing his best to pretend that the newspaper was taking up all his attention. Dudley was looking on in interest to try and see what a magical test was like and how different it might be from his own schoolwork. It was Aunt Petunia though who was the most interesting to watch as she was forced to interact with likely the only witch she had ever met since Harry's mother had died.
She had sneered and scowled when the Professor first came in. But McGonagall worked with Snape, possibly the greatest sneerer the world had ever known, and so this amateur attempt at rudeness washed over her like water over a rock. Next, she quite deliberately offered McGonagall no seat or refreshments. But McGonagall wanted no seat as she spent nearly the whole exam looking over Harry's shoulder and checking the room with the occasional flick of her wand to make sure there was no magical cheating going on. Finally, Aunt Petunia just quietly sulked in the kitchen, pretending to work on dinner and occasionally sneaking glances at the other woman.
Aunt Petunia was the most difficult of his relatives to try and work with. She didn't hate Harry any more than Dudley really did, but unfortunately what she actually hated was herself. Petunia had been so jealous of Harry's mother growing up, that she got to go to a magical castle and have all kinds of adventures, that in the end she couldn't even stand herself. She tried to kill the deep longing in her heart to be magical by convincing herself that magic was unnatural and evil. But that didn't work and that was where the real problem came from.
Petunia hated herself for liking magic and wanting to have been born a witch like Lily. She would try to make herself hate magic even more to kill off her desire for it, but she would fail and end up hating herself even more because of that failure. It was an endless feedback loop of self-disgust. Harry was simply a release valve for all her internal frustration.
Harry wasn't entirely certain how to break that feedback loop. The best idea he could come up with was to try and make magic seem mundane and normal to her, neither something to long for or to hate. He brought up her memories of his mother when she was at her most normal and relatable, trying to emphasize in her dreams that Lily was just a person, nothing really special or hateful, just the same as her. He added in his own memories of Mrs. Weasley doing the most mundane things imaginable with magic, all the times he could recall when it was just a tool to clean up a room or cut vegetables a bit faster.
Harry wasn't entirely certain if it was working or not. Aunt Petunia very rarely interacted with him one way or another these days. Sometimes Harry wondered if it might be easier to just tear her mind down and start over from the beginning with her, if this kind of a mental scar might run too deep to be easily fixed. That sounded like giving up to him though, so he instead vowed that after graduating Hogwarts he was going to go to a muggle university and would get a degree in psychology. Which probably meant he would have to find some way to take the GCSE exams in two years.
During the exam Harry tried to shift his aunt's perception of McGonagall away from 'witch' more towards 'teacher.' Again, Harry couldn't tell if this helped or not, Aunt Petunia was just as cold towards McGonagall when she left as when she had arrived. Once the exams business was concluded, McGonagall left without further ceremony after she assured Harry, he would know the results of the exam before term started.
With all of this, Harry was able to keep quite busy throughout the summer. Aside from the Illithid visit his days were peaceful and productive. Then one early Saturday morning before the sun had risen, about two weeks before his next year of school began he awoke from a startling and distressing dream.
There had been three different men in it, and perhaps some sort of creature as well. One, an old man who knew nothing about magic or the magical world, had been spying on the others. The other two had been discussing some sort of plan with each other. And all three had been in a rather old and rundown house.
Harry felt the details of the dream slipping from his mind as he tried to hold on to them. This had been important, the dream held details which were vital to him which even now seemed to be fading away to mist. It was hard to concentrate though because his scar was aching fiercely, a shape stabbing pain that was driving into his head like a red-hot poker. And another part of his brain felt fuzzy and unresponsive, like a part of him was under a blanket of lethargy or half asleep.
Esharry was still asleep, Harry realized. This was very strange. They always woke up together, usually because they shared the same dreams. Harry gave Esharry's part of his mind a sharp shove and woke him up.
What's going on? Are we in trouble? Esharry wondered as he mentally stretched himself and shook off his sleep.
Harry shouted in his head that he couldn't hold on to these memories and he needed them. Harry felt a slight tingle as Esharry searched through his own brain trying to figure out what was happening. He mentally gasped as he found the problem.
That cursed scar is trying to destroy those memories, it's lashing out at our brain! Esharry shouted with alarm. He quickly wrapped the part of Harry's brain that contained the shard of a foreign soul, which his cursed scar had inserted into his head, in psychic energy and bound it away. The pain in Harry's head faded and he grasped hold of the memories of his dream. They weren't by any means complete, that foreign soul had destroyed quite a lot of them, but they let Harry know what had been going on.
One of the people in that dream had been Lord Voldemort! Harry would recognize that high pitched, cold yet commanding voice anywhere. That made the person speaking with him Peter Petigrew. Harry had no idea who the old man had been, but he strongly suspected that he had been murdered at the end of the dream.
So, Voldemort was back in England then? And he had a new body as well, he hadn't been possessing Petigrew's body from what he could tell. But it seemed this new body was weak, that at least was somewhat reassuring, though it was still strong enough to kill a man.
But that sadly was all Harry could say for certain, the memory of his dream was too eroded to say anything else. Voldemort had a plan, but what Harry couldn't say. He felt it was dangerous to him, but that was more a gut instinct than anything else. Harry thought he remembered something about having an ally at Hogwarts. Perhaps he didn't know that Snape had been a double agent back during the war and planned to reach out to him. Perhaps they would get lucky, and Voldemort would let Snape know where he was hiding and then Dumbledore could strike at him directly. Harry also thought he remembered that there was some sort of creature with him, a large snake maybe? That would fit with Voldemort's theme at least.
Harry had preserved part of the memory, but it was nearly useless. He cast a mental glare at the foreign soul shard in his head. His body had been trying to digest and absorb that soul for perhaps almost as long as Harry had been alive. It was that long instinctive practice at trying to essentially eat a soul that allowed Harry to easily absorb the psychic essence of the tadpole that had been inserted into his head and thus survive having his brain transformed. He was slightly grateful to the soul fragment for that, and he had little desire to make it a part of himself. But now he wished that he had finished devouring the thing long ago. It was dangerous if it could strike at his mind at will like that.
I think this confirms that the shard is from Lord Voldemort. Esharry commented as the shard ceased trying to fight against the bonds Esharry had wrapped around it. That dream was a vision from Lord Voldemort, I think. His attempt to draw deeply on his magic strengthened the connection between his soul and this shard, which in turn allows us to catch a glimpse of what he is up to. When the shard realized it had inadvertently betrayed itself it tried to get rid of the memory as fast as it could.
Harry agreed with Esharry's assessment. Dumbledore had warned him his scar might hurt when Voldemort was near, and certainly it had hurt quite terribly when Harry confronted Voldemort when he was possessing Quirrell's body. Perhaps the scar had upgraded from merely tormenting him to showing him visions since he was growing more talented at divination. He wondered if perhaps he could use a crystal ball to try and track that connection to spy on Voldemort.
Sadly, divination class hadn't assigned him any homework for the summer, so he hadn't had an excuse to take a crystal ball home with him. So, there wasn't anything he could do with what he had learned. Harry pondered what his friends would suggest as he helped Esharry bind up the shard in his brain which made so that his scar would completely stop hurting.
Eventually Harry decided to pen a letter to Dumbledore and Sirius about what had happened. Dumbledore would want to know that Voldemort might not be in Albania anymore and might be able to keep an ear out for an old man who had mysteriously died, the only clue that Harry could offer about where Voldemort might be hiding. Sirius was still out of the country himself and so was even less able to act on this information than Harry was. But Harry thought he would like to be kept informed and Harry had come to appreciate Sirius's advice and insight.
The most ancient and venerable house of Black was about as old and powerful as wizard families came in England. Sirius had grown up overhearing his parents plot and scheme about the government from the position of true insiders. Sirius knew a great deal about how the ministry of magic actually worked and had many very strong opinions about its strengths and failures. He believed strongly in personal freedom and that governments shouldn't be allowed to get in the way of people being decent and honest. His opinions were often an antidote for Harry whenever he began to feel that the absolute authority of an Elder Brain could do a lot to clean up the world. Thus, Harry had greatly enjoyed their correspondence over the summer.
Harry worked on his letter to Dumbledore first. He made sure to describe his dream in the best detail he could, emphasizing what he knew for certain and what he only suspected. Once he had that information down and carefully written out, he laid out his argument for Dumbledore to take this information seriously.
"I would not interrupt your vacation with this information professor." He wrote. "Unless I truly believed that it was valid and accurate. You told me that the magic within my curse scar was still connected to Lord Voldemort's power, and that it would hurt in his presence. That scar certainly hurt as soon as I awoke from this dream and there was no way that Voldemort could be anywhere close to me to spark that pain. I can only conclude that as he comes closer to returning the connection between us has strengthened. So, it is my firm belief that this very night Voldemort and Petigrew have committed murder on the shores of England."
"I hope this information will prove useful to you, and I hope to hear from you shortly in response. Even if it is just to tell me all the reasons why this must be impossible."
"Your student,"
"Harry Potter."
Harry's letter to Sirius was much more informal. He asked about Sirius's health and how he was getting along with the clan of witch doctors who had taken him in. He also gave Sirius the same detailed account of his dream and the reasons why he thought it was true. The sun was rising by the time he was satisfied with both letters. Hedwig had been out hunting for the night and so sending the letters would have to wait. So, Harry went downstairs to enjoy some breakfast.
His aunt and uncle were already seated eating some grapefruit and eggs. There was a plate of food set aside under a hotplate to keep it warm, doubtlessly intended for Dudley. They raised neither greeting nor objection as Harry made his way to the stove and started making an omelet for himself. By the time Harry was finished cooking, Dudley had returned from his morning run.
Dudley had taken the subject of exercise very seriously since Harry had gotten him that biography of various sport stars. He was up every morning before the day grew too hot to take what had started as a long walk, then became a brisk jog and was now an honest run. Dudley had always been proud of being strong and was now embarrassed of being fat, it was perhaps little wonder that hearing about a variety of intensive exercise plans that many sport stars went through to train themselves he had decided to follow this course of action. Harry was very proud of him for trying to be better.
"Did you have a good run, Duds?" Harry asked as they both started eating.
"It was excellent, Pots." His cousin answered. "Made it all the way up to that mall off of main street. Did you know there's a boxing gym up there? I wonder if it's too late into the summer to maybe get a lesson or two?"
"We can look into it on Monday." Uncle Vernon put in while giving Harry a sideways look. He found it almost as strange as Harry did that, he could have a civilized conversation with Dudley and wasn't certain how much he approved. "Boxing is a real man's sport. It will do you good."
"Does Smeltings offer any sports teams?" Harry asked. "I know it's a private school so there might not be any leagues to play in. I know my school has to organize inter house competitions since we don't have any schools to compete against."
"We're in a private league for things like football and track and field." Dudley answered without freezing up over Harry having the audacity to bring up Hogwarts in private conversation. "I think the amateur boxing league is organized separately from the school system. So, it would just be me going to a bunch of tournaments after practicing at school. That could be a lot of fun though."
Uncle Vernon looked like he was about to cut in again when the doorbell rang. He excused himself to the table to go answer it. Dudley continued while he was gone.
"I had always wanted to play football, but I could never keep up with the other players." He lamented.
"Hmmm." Harry grunted in agreement. "Maybe rugby might be more your speed."
"Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted at Harry from the living room. "Get over here this minute."
Harry shrugged at his cousin and shoveled the last two bites of his omelet into his mouth before getting up. Uncle Vernon was holding a letter in his hand and the envelope it had come in with his other. He held the envelope up for Harry to see and it took all of Harry's self-discipline not to burst out laughing. The entire front of the envelope was covered in stamps of all sorts. Only a small corner had been left visible where his house's address had been written in tiny letters in what Harry suspected was Mrs. Weasley's neat handwriting.
"What is this?!" Uncle Vernon demanded to know.
"Likely an attempt by someone not at all familiar with the Royal Post to mail a letter." Harry explained between small giggles he couldn't for the life of him keep in.
"This is no laughing matter!" Vernon declared. "The postman noticed it of course. Rang the doorbell so he could ask who it came from. Can't your sort at least have the decency to try and be normal?"
"They are trying." Harry insisted, "Would you have preferred to have another owl swoop down to the kitchen window instead?" Vernon grunted noncommittally in response; Harry continued. "What's it about anyway?"
Vernon read the letter to him. It was the invitation that Harry had been expecting from the Weasleys for him to join them for the Quidditch World Cup and then stay the rest of the summer until school started. Ron's dad had indeed got tickets for them all. Vernon gave the letter a long hard look after he was finished, obviously, with several questions on his mind.
"What's Quidditch?" He asked.
"A sport." Harry answered in a low tone after glancing at the windows, drawing Vernon's eyes that way so he could confirm the neighbors weren't spying on him as the conversation turned magical. "Played in the air on broomsticks."
"And you all have a world cup for that?" Vernon asked disbelievingly. "Who's playing?"
"Ireland and Bulgaria." Harry said conversationally. "The English team lost to Andorra in the third round I think."
"Humph." Vernon grunted in disapproval. "They hardly even count as a real country." He looked over the letter again. "Who is this woman anyway?"
"You met her at the train station at the beginning of summer." Harry explained. "She was the one with all the red-haired children."
"Oh yes, I remember. Bit of a frumpy woman as I recall." Vernon commented, Harry said nothing about how Vernon definitely was in no position to comment negatively on other people's looks. "What does she mean for you to respond in the normal way?"
"Owl post." Harry said quickly.
"And they'll pick you up?" Vernon insisted and Harry was grateful he wouldn't have to force the issue. He would probably have had to threaten them with his godfather Sirius, whom his relatives believed was a hardened criminal murderer. "I haven't got the time to be driving you all over the country."
"I'm sure that can be arranged." Harry promised.
"How would they pick you up? I don't want any weirdness around the house." Vernon insisted. "Do these Weasley people own a car?"
"They used to have a Ford Anglia, but it sorts of ran off into the woods two years ago." Harry explained. "I don't know if Mr. Weasley's been able to afford a replacement yet, he doesn't make all that much working for the Ministry."
"He works for the government, does he?" Vernon asked, feeling slightly better about the whole thing. Vernon tended to make snap decisions about people based on what car they drove and what they did for a living. Government work he generally approved of it was a sensible normal job in his mind. "What's he do? Check people's wand licenses?"
"He works for the misuse of muggle artifacts department." Harry said simply. "That means he tries to stop people from using magic on normal everyday sort of stuff."
That Vernon definitely approved of. Harry still wasn't certain if he was making any progress with his uncle or not. Like Petunia, his problem with magic came from a place that was much more fundamental to his personality and worldview. Harry had once thought that his uncle was a bit afraid of magic, but the truth was Vernon was afraid of the whole world.
Vernon had been raised to make himself as big as he could in whatever situation he found himself in. He constantly compared himself to those around him to make sure he was either smarter, cleverer, harder working, more productive, richer, fancier, or just bigger and stronger than them. So long as Vernon felt there was at least one way in which he was better than someone else then he didn't have to worry about them, and things would work out for him. It left him free to put the whole world into a bunch of small and manageable boxes that kept him from having to worry that things were out of his control.
He didn't worry that his son was obese, spoiled and mean because Vernon was doing everything that he should do as The Man Of The House. And so long as he kept up his good work eventually things would end up matching the neat, tidy vision he had of what a family should be. Dudley's behavior was just a phase, his poor health could be straightened out later, he had Vernon to look up to and Vernon was doing everything right so eventually it would work out.
Vernon hated magic because it was wild, chaotic, uncontrollable and didn't care about anything he could do. He couldn't fit magic in a neat box, and it reminded him that the world wasn't obligated to work the way he wanted it to. Harry was a constant reminder of magic and thus a constant reminder that he wasn't in control of the world the way he wanted to be.
Harry suspected that to improve his uncle's view of the world he would need to awaken the man to the fact that while the world was chaotic and occasionally terrible it was also beautiful and awe inspiring. But Harry had no idea how to fit that notion into Vernon's head, nor did he think that Vernon would appreciate the experience. Instead, Harry had opted to try to fit the wizarding world into terms that Vernon could understand.
Ironically, Lucius Malfoy was Harry's greatest ally in this endeavor. Vernon was quite used to the idea of rich entitled gits having all the power, as he had worked under quite a few of them. In fact, Vernon was quite good at working around such people, using a combination of flattery and brown nosing to gradually convince them that Vernon's ideas about what should be done were actually their own ideas about what to do. If magic was controlled by regular people like that, then it actually was something Vernon could deal with.
But the lesson hadn't really sunk in yet, despite a whole summer working on it. Vernon still wanted nothing to do with magic in his house. Granted he also wanted nothing to do with rich entitled gits in his house either, as Vernon had quite a few memories of working with such people but to Harry's memory he had never brought any of them up.
"So, if he doesn't have a car how will he pick you up then?" Vernon pressed.
"Well, the way he usually gets about would be to either apparate or use the floo network." Harry swiftly explained, hoping this interrogation would end soon. "Apparation is when a wizard just appears out of thin air somewhere. There's a loud cracking sound and they just show up."
"What, you mean they can teleport?" Vernon demanded to know. Harry nodded and continued.
"But since apparating with another person and their luggage is a bit tricky he'll most likely come by the floo network." Harry concluded. "Which is traveling through fireplaces."
"But we haven't got a fireplace." Vernon objected.
"What's that then?" Harry asked, pointing at the living room fireplace.
"That's not real, it's electric powered." Vernon explained. Harry was surprised by this, but to be fair he had never seen his relatives use the fireplace before.
"That could be an issue then." Harry noted. "I'll tell them in my letter to aim for the dining room and we can move the tables out of the way for him." Vernon grunted dissatisfied by the notion of having to make any effort to make things easier for a wizard, so Harry pressed him. "Alternatively, he could just appear at the front door where the neighbors could see."
That got Vernon to finally relent. Harry quickly made his way upstairs to write a letter to Ron to tell him he could come. In his room he found that Hedwig had returned, and she was looking very put upon and angry because there was another owl in the room.
It was a little owl, only about half the size of Hedwig, a brown ball of excited feathers. Sirius had picked the little guy up after escaping from Hogwarts and sent him with a letter to Harry on his way home from school. It was an extremely fortuitous thing to happen since it not only gave Harry an official permission slip to go to Hogsmeade but had also given Ron a pet to replace the traitorous Scabbers.
It took Harry a few minutes but eventually he was able to get the little owl to stop soaring around the ceiling and give him the letter it was carrying. The letter was from Ron and just reiterated what Mrs. Weasley had already said, that they would come to get him tomorrow for the Quidditch World Cup. It also confirmed that Hermione was there as well. The thought of seeing his two precious friends again filled Harry with a tremendous sense of excitement. He quickly wrote a letter confirming to Ron that he could come. He tied the letter to the little owl, which according to Ron's letter was named Pig for some reason and sent it on its way.
Next, he gave Hedwig his letters to Dumbledore and Sirius. The snowy white owl conducted herself with far more grace, patience and decorum as if to emphasize that she knew how to properly deliver letters. Harry petted her head affectionately and gave her an owl treat before he told her who to deliver the letters to. She nipped at his fingers affectionately and took to the air with a heart full of pride.
Once she was gone though Harry slapped his forehead in exasperation. In all his excitement about seeing his friends again he had forgotten to warn Ron about the electric fireplace. And now he had no owl with which to send another letter. He tried to deepen his connection to Ron through the bond, but they were still too distant to allow fully formed thoughts to get through. He would have to risk using Professor Trainers method of long-distance communication to get the warning through in time. But he was still worried about being too forceful with it and maybe hurting Ron.
If you need more control over your psychic power, you might try using your staff. Esharry suggested. It is a psychic focus after all.
For a moment Harry just stood there blankly trying to think of what Esharry was talking about. Then he remembered he had been given a special staff by the Elder Brain as a symbol of his status as an Ulitharid. He had shrunk it down almost as soon as he got it to hide it away and then hadn't thought about it again, since it was a reminder of that terrible day, he was taken to the Illithid colony and transformed.
Finding it took some time, it was still in the pockets of the muggle clothes he had worn on that day, which were now too small for him. But he did find it eventually and soon held it in his hand. It synchronized with his powers the moment he touched it. Any power that flowed through his mind was mirrored to a lesser extent by the staff, not quite doubling the power he could wield but certainly increasing it. It also resonated with his magic, reminding him that it could be used like a wand as well.
"Engorgio." Harry commanded, focusing his magic on the staff as he made a few brief movements with it. The staff quickly swelled back to its full size until it was large enough to use as a walking staff. It was made of ridged segments and twisted with a curve running down one side, making it look a lot like a human spine. On the top was an open hand of spiked claws that could be used to pull Harry's brain out of his skull, on the bottom it ended in a wicked spike that was full of special poison that could dissolve his body into a briney fluid. It was meant to be used to allow him to complete his final evolution, to abandon his body and become an Elder Brain.
It was strange. This staff was not all that dissimilar to his wand, a tool to help him fully access his powers as a wizard and an Illithid. But while he felt a deep emotional connection to his wand, he hated this staff: the symbol of what he was being made into. Yet he couldn't deny the staff's power. If he had had this in hand the night, he confronted Sirius he would not have been left so exhausted that Petrigrew would've been able to escape. It was a biting thought, that his hesitation and reluctance to have anything to do with this staff had cost his godfather the freedom to move in British society and might also allow Lord Voldemort to return to power.
With the staff he plucked the words he wanted from his mind. "Ron, tell your father that the muggles have an electric fireplace. The floo network won't reach here. Aim for the dining room instead." He formed them into a kind of psychic dart, filled it with precisely just enough power to reach Ron and then fired it off.
It left a kind of psychic trail in its wake. Not more than a second later it reached Ron and connected them together. That connection wasn't anywhere near as strong as the one the bond had formed, but it did briefly joined their minds. Harry couldn't feel Ron's thoughts or emotions through it, but he knew that the missive had been received and could feel Ron sending one back through the psychic tunnel.
"Harry? Since when have you been able to send long range messages like this? How come you haven't used that until now? Don't you know-"
The tunnel collapsed at that point. Harry surmised that there was a limit on how much information this method could carry. About twenty-five words it seemed. Definitely useful, but it would be quite the bother to try and carry on a conversation with it.
"I only just figured it out." Harry sent back. "And it doesn't work so well. We'll talk more tomorrow. Don't forget what I said about the fireplace."
All Harry got back was the impression that Ron was making a very rude gesture at him with his mind. Harry laughed to himself at the notion. It would be so good to see them all again.