***
In the End
Da Vinci's Papers
Harry, Ron, and Hermione marched up to the wooden door at the end of the spiraling, stone staircase. It had been two weeks since the wedding, and a week since Hogwarts opened. They were on their way to Godric’s Hollow when they received an owl from Headmistress McGonagall asking them to come and meet with her.
As they continued up, torches on the right wall suddenly lit up with flame and illuminated the way ahead. Finally, they ended up in front of the door, frozen.
“What do we do now?” Ron asked stupidly.
“We knock, Ronald,” Hermione explained teasingly as she stepped up and rapped her knuckles against the door.
There was silence. She tried knocking again, but received the same reply. She resorted to taking out her wand and pointing it at the keyhole, which glowed temporarily, but did not open at all. But it resulted in a panicked voice from behind.
“Who is that? I will have you know that this door will not open under simple charms! I am smarter than that!”
Despite the harsh greeting, Hermione’s face lit up. She smiled.
“Prof “ Headmistress McGonagall, it’s me. Hermione Granger.”
The door flung wide open and swishing emerald robes filled the doorway. Minerva McGonagall was a woman whose face was wrinkled by worry and stress. Atop her graying brown hair was an askew pointed hat. She had her wand in front of her in security and a small glass vial in the other hand.
“Oh Ms. Granger!” McGonagall exclaimed wildly. “Thank Merlin that you’ve arrived! You, too, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley.”
Harry and Ron went pink in the ears.
“What’s the problem, professor?” Harry asked. “We received your owl, but you were really vague.”
“It’s Albus. He never seems to rest! He has been constantly beckoning for the three of you. I swear, his portrait is disturbing all the rest! Phineas has colorful jargon when he’s angry…”
“Do you know why?” Harry continued.
“No, but I assume everything will get better once you three see him. Come on; let’s not waste time idling out here!” McGonagall ushered them in and slammed the door behind in a hurry.
The office of Headmistress McGonagall was the same as it had been when it was Albus Dumbledore’s. There were only minor changes, like an extra bookcase squeezed between two antique ones. This one was filled with books on Transfiguration and Charms.
What else do you expect from a former Transfiguration professor? Harry thought, amused.
But Harry noticed that one of Dumbledore’s treasures was sitting out. The Pensieve, a large stone basin, was erected in the middle of the office. Silver memories were swirling against each other, creating a sea of thoughts with silky consistency. Vials similar to the one in McGonagall’s hand were on the side of the basin, empty and filled.
McGonagall took notice of Harry’s curiosity.
“Albus insisted that I use it,” she explained, surprising Harry. “He didn’t want it to be auctioned off at a Ministry function like Scrimgeour intended. In fact, Albus’ portrait got into a row with our Minister. In the end, it was decided that it would be put to far better use with me.”
“That’s better than having some inexperienced wizard use it. It is better that it went with a great witch like you.”
McGonagall seemed to blush, but continued to walk along.
“There,” she said, pointing to a wall ahead. “That’s his portrait. I doubt he’ll be upset to see you lot.”
Indeed, Albus Dumbledore’s gold-framed portrait was mounted on the wall. He looked as aged as ever, wrinkled and creased. However, he looked surprisingly different than from when he was alive. He was more serene and calm, though his brow was furrowed “ in anger? “ when he looked the other way. His hands were folded patiently, though you could barely see them in the greatness that was his azure cloak spangled with yellow stars.
His head turned to see that Harry was walking up to him, along with Ron, Hermione, and McGonagall. His face filled out with excitement, happiness, and eagerness.
“Harry!” the portrait exclaimed loudly that several other ones jumped. “Merlin’s beard! You three seem to have grown up quite significantly since our last meeting!”
Harry beamed. “Professor McGonagall said that you needed to see us.”
“Why, of course! If you remember, the last time we saw each other, it was just before my unfortunate accident.”
“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, sir,” Harry said, attempting to sound as innocent as he could, “But the last time we saw each other, you were murdered. By Snape!”
“Yes, well, there be no need for regret this late in the game. I made an error in judgment.”
“Sir, he murdered-”
“Anyway,” Dumbledore pushed forcefully, “I brought you here because I believed that we had much business that was interrupted that has yet to be accomplished.”
Again, without trying to be rude, Harry said, “But sir, I doubt that you can go look for Horcruxes again like you did.”
“I do not plan on doing anything of the sort,” Dumbledore said airily. “I plan on giving you the rest of my knowledge of Lord Voldemort and everything else I know that may help aid you on your quest. Except this time, we will be including Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger in our endeavors.
“Now, as Minerva has told me, you were on your way to Godric’s Hollow when her owl intervened with your travels. Is that correct?”
Harry nodded with Ron and Hermione.
“Then I suppose the time is ripe for me to inform you of your former home, Harry. You see, the Order of the Phoenix suffered a catastrophic loss on the night your parents were murdered. We lost two of our best agents, not to mention our most important ones. Along with that, we were devastated when your parents’ home was destroyed.”
“Why were my parents so important?” Harry interrupted. “And why was our home so important?”
“I was hoping you would ask exactly that question, Harry. As you know, I was the Secret-Keeper of the Order. Now, in the light of my death, the job has gone to Minerva. I will not go into details, as ‘passing my torch” involved complex magic. But I will tell you that I was not always the Secret-Keeper for the Order. In fact, your parents were the original Secret-Keepers.”
“Secret-Keepers?” Harry asked incredulously. “You can have two of them?”
“One of my more brilliant ideas,” Dumbledore stated proudly. “I thought, and my colleagues agreed with me, that having two Secret-Keepers increased the Order’s chance for concealment. It was very unfortunate that we lost both of them.
“Shortly after their death, the Order went into chaos. I’m sure that you can comprehend the situation, Harry: the two Secret-Keepers of the Order have been killed off, meaning that our location was free game to Lord Voldemort. He could have found us at any time and got rid of us in one swift motion. Fortunately, I do not think that Voldemort could have realized the importance of his kill; to him, your parents’ murder was only top-priority because of the prophecy. I became the next Secret-Keeper.”
Behind Harry, Ron and Hermione were exchanging whispers with each other. But he did not pay attention.
“Professor, you still haven’t told me just why our house was so important.”
“Ah. Harry, I’m sure you know that Grimmauld Place was never our original headquarters. Usually, it was at the household of the Secret-Keeper, except in the case of the noble house of Black.”
“Meaning,” Harry said excitedly, “That our house was the headquarters for the Order!”
“I see you have caught on Harry,” Dumbledore said, adjusting his half-moon spectacles atop his crooked nose. “Yes, Number 24, Godric’s Hollow was indeed the headquarters for the Order. And with this information, I assume that you realize why it was so upsetting that the house was destroyed on the night that your parents were murdered. It meant that if Voldemort had managed to enter the house that Halloween night, he would have also been able to gain contact to our most precious secrets, even if they were concealed under many charms.”
“Did he get anything from the ruins?” Hermione piped up.
Dumbledore looked down at her. “No, Ms. Granger. Luckily for us, he did not. As I am sure you know, moments after turning his wand on Harry, Voldemort was ripped from his body and into his ghostly form. Of course, he fled as soon as he could, leaving behind all of our secrets. But this brought to us new troubles: what if all of our books and journals were destroyed along with the house? So right after learning of the murder, we sent Sirius to the site, not to confirm our fears, but to also assure that nothing had been ruined. But of course, this was before he was convicted and sent to Azkaban. Then, Hagrid followed to take Harry away.”
“What happened after?” Harry asked eagerly.
“I went to Godric’s Hollow myself,” Dumbledore said matter-of-factly. “The area was concealed from the Muggle population, but it had not been searched thoroughly. I was able to arrive before the Ministry sifted through the site. Of course, I had to whisk away all evidence of the Order, otherwise, it would have been another conspiracy for Fudge.
“Then, I proceeded to restore the estate. I added additional charms and spells so that not even the smartest, wittiest wizard or witch would be able to gain access to your parents’ old home. I kept our old papers and journals there, so that they would be saved for an occasion when all goes terribly wrong.”
“And when will that happen?” Harry asked.
Dumbledore’s eyes suddenly twinkled. “I hope that you will be able to decide that, Harry.”
Harry remained silent.
Dumbledore smiled at him. “I daresay, one of your questions at the moment must be ‘Now what?’ Am I correct?”
Harry nodded.
“Now, you must return to your journey and travel to Godric’s Hollow. It is imperative that you go there for there will be answers, but much more important, more questions.”
But it was McGonagall that spoke next.
“Albus, is it time?”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “Oh yes! Bring it in, Minerva.”
McGonagall whirled around and walked past the Pensieve to her desk. She opened a drawer from which she pulled out what looked like an envelope. It was old and fragile, dusty and brown with age. She walked back and put it gently in Harry’s hands.
“Open it,” Dumbledore instructed.
Careful not to tear anything, Harry began to open the envelope. He found that inside it were even older looking papers, torn at the edges. He unfolded one of them and to his dismay, he found that it was blank.
“What is this, professor?”
“That, Harry, is Da Vinci’s legendary papers!” Dumbledore said it as though he could not control his excitement.
“What exactly do they do?”
“I know!” squealed Hermione. “I know, Harry! But, oh, Professor, how could you have these? These are so…” She could not finish.
“Would you mind explaining them to me?” Harry asked irritably.
“Harry, these are Memory-Relaying Papers! This means that whoever has a capable mind (and there are not many) can use magic to transmit thoughts and memories into words and onto these papers! This is how Professor Dumbledore is going to contact you!”
“Very good, Ms. Granger. I see that your reading has not faltered.” Dumbledore looked pleased.
“Yes, sir!” exclaimed Hermione. Ron looked at her oddly.
“I wanted to be able to give these to you Harry before you left. This is why I needed you to come down here. Now that I have done so, you can get back on your journey to find the Horcruxes.”
Horcruxes? Suddenly Harry remembered something. R.A.B. Harry thought.
“Professor, I-”
He heard snores above him and saw that Dumbledore had fallen asleep. But he looked down at Da Vinci’s Papers to see that on one of them, loopy, black writing was appearing. When it was complete, Harry read:
A/N: Perhaps questions came to mind when you began to read this, maybe just after you saw the title of the chapter! First of all, the name of this chapter derives from the popular rumor that spread across the Internet, claiming that one of HBP's chapters would be titled Lupin's Papers. Second of all, I chose Da Vinci because his name is not only popular, but it sounds legendary and quite dark. Maybe you've heard of The Da Vinci Code? Anyway, I hope that none of you think that things may have speeded up too quickly, because this is only the beginning. I have some more secrets stashed up my sleeve.