Chapter 4

When Harry finally returned to consciousness, he was no longer in the ritual room. Instead, he was lying on a bed in a brightly lit room. With a groan, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position, thankful that the bleeding wounds on his hands had been sealed. More blood than he had expected had poured from the slices during the ritual, and something had come out of his scar as well. Magically, Harry felt like he had been run over by a hippogriff, but mentally… Mentally, Harry felt like a small, persistent headache had just left him for the first time in his entire life. It wasn't a huge difference, but thinking already felt a little easier, his emotions felt clearer, and Harry was sure his focus had improved. Was this what people normally felt like all the time, Harry wondered? If so, no wonder his grades on the theory side of things were so average.

Having taken stock of himself and now wondering where everyone else was, Harry called out a "Hello?"

"Harry!" Susan called back, and the sound of rushing feet approached the door before it burst open, and a blur of red hair engulfed him.

"I'm so glad you're awake!" Susan cried. "How are you feeling? You had me so worried when that awful substance burst out of your scar! It's already looking so much better, though."

"Yes, it is, which is a very good sign for the healing process and the success of the ritual," Amelia said as she entered the room at a slightly more sedate pace, followed by Croaker and a figure in a grey hooded robe.

"You've quite excited my Soul Group, Mr. Potter," Croaker said. "They've not had so much fun with a new toy in ages. It'll almost be a shame when we finally have to destroy it. The amount we've already learned is…"

"We are not keeping You-Know-Who alive any longer than is absolutely necessary," Amelia said sternly. "Need I remind you how foul that artifact is to the senses? It is a corruption and a perversion. If I didn't know how important it is to track down the rest, I would have it tossed through the Veil or be burning with Fiendfyre this instant."

"Yes, yes," Croaker said, sounding resigned. "Lars? Do you have any preliminary updates based on your group's initial study?"

"Indeed, Chief Unspeakable," a flat voice said. "Based on our calculations and the resonance we've been able to observe, there are five other soul parts, for a total of six. This is extremely arithmetically displeasing, as the Dark Lord would surely know seven is a powerfully magic number, but we are certain in our count of the soul pieces."

"Hmm, yes, that is quite odd," Croaker agreed. "And can you track the others?"

"We're still working on the best way to harmonize the resonance with a compass of some kind, but we should have something rough working within the next few days," the Unspeakable reported.

"How would we know if one of these Horcruxes was already destroyed?" Harry asked, wondering if he hadn't just put something together with the benefit of new information and a brain that could better think logically now.

Both Unspeakables turned to Harry in surprise.

"We wouldn't," Croaker said, looking to his colleague for support.

"Not from this, no," his underling agreed. "Do you think you've encountered one before, maybe even destroyed it?"

Harry licked his dry lips nervously. "I do," he said slowly. "It was during my second year. It was a diary, and it possessed Ginny Weasley into opening the Chamber of Secrets. I was eventually able to kill the basilisk and stab the diary with the fang that was embedded in my arm."

A deep silence filled the room as they digested this brief retelling, and then Amelia's cursing filled the air.

"You mean to tell me that there was a basilisk roaming the corridors of the school, and your Headmaster did nothing about it?" Amelia demanded.

"I didn't know about that," Susan whispered, looking haunted. "How did you survive?"

"Fawkes," Harry said. "And I don't think anyone really knew it was a basilisk until I killed it because it had only managed to petrify with its gaze, because nobody saw its eyes directly. When I went down to the Chamber of Secrets, Fawkes clawed its eyes out, and then went it tried to bite me, I stabbed it through the roof of its mouth with the Sword of Gryffindor. One of the fangs stuck in my arm, though, so Fawkes had to cry into it, and then I stabbed the diary with the fang."

"Well, basilisk venom certainly is one way to destroy a Horcrux," Croaker muttered. "What happened to the corpse?"

"Nothing, as far as I know," Harry said, thinking it over. "Why?"

"The Department would pay you a hefty sum for the opportunity to take and render down such a creature," the robed Unspeakable said. "The skin is superior even to dragonhide, and many of the parts are likewise intensely magical. Depending on the size, you could stand to gain millions of galleons."

"I suppose I'm hardly in the position to turn down money," Harry said, pleasantly surprised at the offer. "My vault is in good shape, from what I remember, but I don't have millions."

"We can discuss this further at a later time, but you do in fact have much money than you seem to think," Croaker said, giving Harry a considering look. "As an Ancient and Noble House, you have at least three vaults, and I would guess all you've seen and have access to so far is your trust vault, but again, that is for later. The important thing is that you now only have one soul registering on our scans. While Kheti is likely still integrating, he has sufficiently taken root into you now that he no longer registers as a separate part of your soul."

"Well, I'm glad that everything is normal on your end, because I feel the best I've ever felt," Harry admitted, trying to do as Croaker suggested and think about his apparent wealth later. "My head is clearer, my emotions aren't as sharp, and it feels like I can focus in a way that I just couldn't earlier."

"Your magic should also be easier to use, and I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't experience a bump in your total magical reserves," the hooded Unspeakable said. "Without a malignant soul piece leaching off your power and fighting you, your spellcasting should be more fluid. You may wish to meditate this summer and attempt to better control yourself and recalibrate how much effort you need to put into using your magic."

"A good suggestion," Croaker said thoughtfully. "Well, since all appears well with you, Mr. Potter, we will head back to the DoM and get back to work. We'll be in touch, following up on the longer-term effects of the ritual. But yes, in the meantime, in addition to what you're learning from the Egyptian in your head, you should try learning some of the Mind Arts. All the most powerful witches and wizards of the last thousand years have been at least adept in the arts, and the vast majority have been masters. In your particular case, I would think it would be negligent to do otherwise."

Thinking grimly of the prophecy hanging over his head and the way that Dumbledore and Voldemort had dueled, Harry added the Mind Arts to his summer learning list. He didn't know if he could get up to mastery before Hogwarts reopened, like Croaker was suggesting, but he knew starting sooner was better, in this case at least. Croaker nodded one last time, and then he and the other Unspeakable were gone, leaving Harry with Amelia and Susan.

"Well, that was a more involved and exciting introduction to the Ossuary than I was initially hoping, but I suppose it needed doing," Amelia muttered, and then shook herself. "If you're up to it, Harry, I think we can go ahead and move you into the room you'll be staying in for the summer."

"That would be perfect," Harry said gratefully. "I spend enough time in the infirmary at Hogwarts, and I don't want to keep that trend up this summer if I can help it."

"Do I even want to know?" Amelia asked Susan, a resigned look on her face.

"Um, maybe we should just say that Harry tends to attract trouble and life-threatening situations with an unusual frequency?" Susan said dubiously, squirming a little under her Auntie's fierce stare.

"I managed to stay out of Madame Pomfrey's care at the end of the year for the first time?" Harry offered. "That's an improvement, at least. Dumbledore was able to seal up my cuts and bruises after the DoM before he sent me to bed."

Amelia rubbed her forehead. "I suppose it's not your fault that a Dark Lord has been trying to kill you," she muttered. "At least you know how to take care of yourself a little. Still, if you could stay behind the Ossuary's wards, especially without an escort, I think that would be for the best. You can invite your friends over, if you'd like, but I'd prefer you stay in range of our protections."

"I think I can do that," Harry said, beyond relieved that he wasn't being shoved into his old room at Number 4 for the entire summer. "And, if you'd like, I can see what wards and spells I can add to the Ossuary that Kheti knew?"

Amelia nodded slowly. "If I hadn't just seen the ritual you put together work, and have Croaker sign off on it no less, I'd say no, but now that we know a little more of what we're dealing with, I'd be a fool to say no. I might need to see if some of my Aurors will be willing to work with the two of you on some dueling strategies as well. With the Dark Lord roaming Britain in person, I somehow doubt that underage magic restrictions are going to be as important."

"Especially if Rufus becomes the next Minister," Susan added. "He'll be so much better than Fudge it won't even be funny."

"He'll certainly be harder on the Death Eaters," Amelia agreed, but Harry could tell she was cautious. "He was excellent as my Head Auror, but I don't know how well suited he will be for all the duties of the Minister. He's not the most flexible thinker, and while he's quite determined and driven, he's not the best public speaker. I'll do my best to support him, and he'll bring the fight to the Dark Lord, but he has his blind spots."

"Is he corrupt and willing to stick his head in the sand to avoid his problems?" Harry asked. "Because otherwise, he's a much-needed improvement, and I'll welcome not having to worry about the Ministry and the Prophet calling me insane all the time."

"No, those are all good points," Amelia agreed. "But Rufus Scrimgeour has always wanted the Minister position, and now that he finally has it, I'll be curious to see what he does with it. His aides in particular will be telling."

"Why didn't you want it, Auntie?" Susan asked curiously. "I know that you would have done a great job."

"Well, thanks for that, Susan," Amelia said, sighing. "But for one, I'm happy where I am as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, especially right now. Change at my position isn't what we need, and I feel like I can really focus on the issue in front of us where I am. After all this is finished, maybe I would consider it, but I've never needed the power and prestige of the Minister position. I've never needed the headache either. I can get most of what I want in this role anyways, especially since I know Rufus, or whoever gets the vote, will be pumping money back into my department after all the cuts Fudge hit us with. But that's enough politics for now!" Amelia said, clapping her hands together.

Harry nodded, simply happy at the prospect of a Ministry that wasn't out to get him, especially if Amelia was anywhere near as on top of the situation as it seemed like.

"Harry, if you're feeling up to it, we can have dinner, and then I'll show you to where you'll be staying this summer," Susan offered.

"That sounds great, Susan," Harry said gratefully. "After all that, I'm starving."

"So long as you don't eat like Ron, that's not an issue," Susan teased, and Harry heaved a sigh, trying to not smile.

"I do have some manners, you know," he protested weakly, but knew that Susan had been observing with fascinated horror Ron's eating habits all year as she had gotten to know Harry and his friends better. She had described it as "a shovel technique," and Harry would be hard-pressed to find a better description. Alas, he had informed her that if years of chiding and abuse from Hermione hadn't effected any positive change, the issue might be permanent. In return, Susan had promised to never eat at the same table as the youngest Weasley son if she could at all manage it.

"Yes, that sounds like a good plan," Amelia said, watching the byplay with an amused smile on her face. "Just remember, you have rooms on opposite wings of the manor, and there is no good reason for either of you to be in a bedroom with shut doors."

Harry blushed, and Susan let out another whiny, "Auntiiiie!"

Amelia smirked and then left the room. "I'll tell Flopsy to get dinner ready," she called over her shoulder.

"Why does she always have to embarrass me like that?" Susan asked, burying her face in her hands. "She does this whenever I have someone over!"

"Hannah may have mentioned something along those lines," Harry admitted, feeling quite sore as he levered himself out of the bed he had been placed in. "She thinks the way you blush is cute, though."

"Hannah needs to keep her big mouth shut," Susan muttered under her breath, scowling. "I've got just as many of her secrets as she does of mine. If she wants to start something, we're both gonna lose."

"Just leave me out of it, please," Harry said. "I have enough problems in my life without adding more."

"No, you have to take my side," Susan corrected him, standing up and tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But come on, I'll show you where the kitchen is. Despite having this big, formal manor, Auntie and I only using the dining room for formal occasions or when we have a lot of people. Otherwise, we like to eat at the smaller table in the kitchen area. It's much cozier for family and friends."

"Family and friends, huh?" Harry repeated half to himself as he followed Susan, who was pointed out some of the ancient artifacts and features of her ancestral home. "I don't mind the sound of that at all."