A/N: Well, what can I say? Nothing really, which can forgive my terrible sin of omission. To all those who have waited for ages for this chapter, I can only say I am completely guilty and worthy of all your condemnation. I have been floundering in an ever growing sea of responsibility and have let this story slide, and for that I am sorry. I hope to make up for it by getting up few more chapters in the next couple of weeks. If you are still willing to give this story a chance, then I salute you and hope that this installment lives up to your expectations.
Scarhead Steve.
Disclaimer: The usual, none of the characters are mine; they were created by Ms. J.K. Rowling. The only thing I can claim to own in all this is my imagination.
It was a weary Harry Potter who laid aside the book on Defensive Magic that he had been idly flipping through. One month had now passed since Regulus had obtained the necessary books for his research and Harry was beginning to realize just how valuable time was. Over the past month he had had barely enough sleep and yet he felt as if he had not achieved much. Almost every minute of his day was accounted for. He had to spend time studying the seventh year text books. This was followed by a period of training with Regulus, which usually ended with Regulus having to pick up Harry off the floor and attending to either his mismatched ears or his jelly legs. Though Harry managed to get in a few good shots it was still obvious that he needed more practice. Then the evenings were usually spent poring over old tomes and trying to strategise on the possible locations of the Horcruxes, and on Voldemort’s next move.
It was also becoming increasingly normal for Harry to wake up with a knot of fear in his stomach. He quite realized that his progress was painfully slow and he was sure that he wasn’t anywhere near ready to face Voldemort. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Tom Riddle would begin an all out attack on the wizarding world. The only way to prevent the attack was to stop Voldemort soon, but he still wasn’t close to the answers he needed.
Sighing, Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought back to his previous encounters with the Lord Voldemort. Though the whole world believed that it was Harry’s courage and skill that had enabled him to come up trumps each time, to a rather dejected Harry it seemed as if his successes had been due to a combination of luck and timely intervention by Dumbledore. With Dumbledore no longer there to guide him, Harry knew the likelihood of his surviving the final encounter with the Dark Lord had reduced considerably. And along with that thought, came anger. Anger against Dumbledore for trusting Snape. Anger against Snape for betraying Dumbledore. And anger against Malfoy for being a coward. With one brisk movement, Harry picked up the book at his elbow and flung it away. The sound of breaking crockery did nothing to ameliorate his high blood pressure.
Regulus, who had come into the kitchen on hearing the crash, surveyed the remains of his mother’s hideous tea pot for a few moments. Then he shrugged and strolled over and took a seat at the table.
“Sorry about that,” Harry muttered, still glowering, and plainly not sorry in the least.
“Don’t worry about it,” Regulus said airily, and then motioning to the shattered pot with his thumb, he continued, “Somebody should have done that a long time ago.”
Harry didn’t answer and continued to stare at the table as if daring it to start something. His frustration at having to sit around inactive, when the danger from Voldemort was ever greater, was beginning to boil over and the probability of one of the chairs following the book’s trajectory was extremely high.
Regulus spent a few pensive moments contemplating the grumpy lad sitting in front of him. He knew how hard the past month had been on Harry, in fact, he himself was starting to feel the strain of the training and the research. Regulus knew that Harry was getting better at dueling but he was still no match to what the Dark Lord could unleash. Still, what Harry needed at the moment was encouragement so Regulus had a shot at pouring oil on troubled waters.
“Harry, you just need to have a little patience,” he said slowly and distinctly.
Harry’s simmering temper exploded with a pop as he brought his fist crashing down onto the table and yelled, “DON’T TELL ME TO BE PATIENT!” Harry had never been very good at controlling his emotions and, with the stress of the last few months; it was getting even more difficult.
Regulus, on the other hand, never flinched. He didn’t look away but continued to stare back at Harry calmly. Some of his calm rubbed off onto Harry and his breathing eased and he slumped back onto his chair with a sigh.
“It’s just hard, you know,” Harry mumbled sadly, after a few minutes.
Regulus paused for a moment, before he answered, “Harry, I can’t expect to fully understand what you’re going through now. You have friends whose safety you fear for and I don’t. But I know that the best way you can help protect them is to keep soldiering on, to hold on for another five minutes when your body screams for sleep, that’s the only way you’ll be able to help them. And I’ll be here to help you go on.”
Exhaustion was causing Harry’s eyelids to droop as he told himself that Regulus had a point. “I could go on for days on end for my friends,” Harry said, stifling a yawn, “But our progress has been so slow. We still have no clue as to where the next Horcrux could be. And my dueling skills wouldn’t even threaten Bellatrix or Snape yet. It’s depressing.”
Silence fell on the kitchen at twelve Grimmauld Place, as Harry moodily let his mind wander and Regulus realized that Harry needed some motivation to keep going. He watched as Harry idly transfigured a goblet into a snitch and began to play with it. And as Regulus watched Harry make some impossible grabs which invariably resulted in him snaring the snitch, his face began to clear.
“You know Harry,” Regulus said, “I think you deserve a day off. Why don’t you think of something else to do today?”
“Like what?” Harry grumbled, as he snatched angrily and nearly squashed the snitch in his palm.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Regulus grinned, pretending to think, “How about a visit to the old alma mater?”
At the words ‘alma mater’, Harry made a wild swipe and, for the first time, completely missed the snitch. He turned wide eyes to Regulus, thinking the older man had gone off his rocker.
“Are you crazy?” Harry queried, before ducking as the snitch whooshed passed his head.
“Well, surely you want to see your old school and your friends,” Regulus continued, nonchalantly drumming his fingers on the table.
“That’s not the point,” Harry sputtered indignantly, “You know very well that I can’t possibly go back to Hogwarts; not after all the trouble I had to go through to make sure that I didn’t have to.”
“An ingenious boy like you,” Regulus said smiling “shouldn’t have much trouble in getting anywhere unseen.”
His emphasis on the last word caused Harry’s eyes to narrow suspiciously. “You haven’t been going through my stuff, have you?” he asked slowly.
Regulus smiled enigmatically, before saying, “You really need to make sure your room doesn’t look like a disaster area. A little tidiness would ensure that your private items remain private; if you know what I mean,” he added.
Harry nodded; feeling his distrust of Regulus, that had dropped slightly earlier, now rise up a notch. Competing with this was the realization that he did have the means to enter Hogwarts unseen if he so wished. It was a bitter struggle between wanting to keep an eye on Regulus and seeing his friends again, but in the end, his friends triumphed. Rising quickly, he announced he was going out for a while.
“Could you bring that down, Harry?” Regulus said, motioning to the snitch that was now joyously ricocheting off all the walls, “I rather like that goblet.”
“Oh right,” Harry said, and drew his wand. Taking careful aim, he nailed the snitch with the appropriate charm and the goblet dropped neatly into his waiting hands.
“Impressive,” Regulus exclaimed, looking suitably awed by Harry’s display of marksmanship, “It would appear that the practice sessions are having some effect after all.”
Harry himself stared at the goblet with surprise, not having expected to hit it the first time. With returning hope and encouragement, he placed the goblet on the table and returned to his room. Collecting his invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map, Harry quietly exited Grimmauld Place.
Harry felt extremely strange wandering through the halls of Hogwarts because he had rarely done so while under the cloak in broad daylight. Harry had never appreciated how many students attended Hogwarts until now, when he had to step extremely nimbly to avoid colliding with the milling throng. Getting in hadn’t been too much of a problem. He had apparated to Hogsmeade and then chosen one of the secret entrances to enter Hogwarts. Once inside, though, it seemed as if staying in undetected was going to be the challenge.
At the moment, Harry was standing against the wall and rubbing his shin which had accidentally tripped up a beefy sixth year Slytherin. The gorilla of a boy, who had sprawled unceremoniously to the floor, much to the mirth of his fellow students, was now trying to ascertain who had tripped him so that he could wring his neck. Once he had got the circulation going, Harry had the brilliant idea of removing himself to a place where there wouldn’t be this much activity and where he could actually do something useful. Hobbling slightly, Harry carefully side-stepped the rather bemused lad and headed to the library.
Strolling into the library a few moments later, Harry nearly walked into Madam Pince. He had to stand absolutely still and hold his breath, while Madam Pince surveyed her surroundings carefully. She had been a librarian for too long to not notice when something wasn’t right. But the cloak did its work well, and after a few moments of scrutiny, Madam Pince shrugged her shoulders and removed herself to another part of the labyrinthine library.
The next half hour was spent wandering among the myriad tomes and attempting to ascertain if there was anything that could of use in his search for the Horcruxes. Harry wasn’t too sanguine about his chances; after all, Hermione had done quite a thorough census only a few months earlier and had found nothing. Still, as a drowning man will clutch at the flimsiest of straws, Harry was ready to try anything as long as he was doing something.
Rounding a corner, Harry came upon one of the many tables strewn around the library that were meant for in-house research. This table happened to be occupied by the one person Harry had expected to find in the library. A mane of bushy brown hair was bent low over several books and, what appeared to be, a sea of notes. Impaled again on the horns of a dilemma, Harry pondered his next move. Caution dictated that he remove himself lest he be found out. Seven years of friendship urged him to stay. It was a difficult problem, but loneliness won out in the end. Reasoning to himself that his sole purpose of coming to Hogwarts was to see his friends, Harry tiptoed closer and peered over Hermione’s shoulder.
From the tons of literature around her, it seemed to Harry that Hermione was attempting to study several different subjects at the same time. Closer observation revealed that there were five books open before her, all covered in strange symbols, though Harry did remember some of them from his own research. With a rush of pride, Harry also recognized the badge pinned to her robes, although it wasn’t really a big surprise. It would’ve been a surprise if she hadn’t got it, Harry thought to himself. Just then, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted something. Turning, he perceived that Hermione had written ‘Horcrux Research’ in bold across the top of one of pieces of parchment lying off to the side.
Luckily for Harry, the parchment happened to be on top of a couple of others but he couldn’t quite make out the writing on it. Moving slowly, Harry attempted to get into one of the chairs to get a closer look. Unfortunately this was easier said than done as he could not simply pull the chair back to take a seat. However, by dint of twists and turns that would have made a contortionist proud, Harry took a seat and began to read.
Harry felt quite glad and also a bit uneasy that Hermione and Ron were still researching the Horcruxes. Though he knew that they would never do anything rash, it was still possible that they might decide to help by going after some of the Horcruxes themselves. Sighing, Harry told himself that this was not a contingency that he had expected and therefore he couldn’t really do anything about it and turned his attention to the parchment.
Horcrux Research
The seven Horcruxes:
1) The diary “ in the Chamber of Secrets, destroyed by Harry
2) The ring “ in the house of the Gaunt family, destroyed by Professor Dumbledore
3) The locket “ in the cave, not yet known if destroyed by R.A.B ? ? (Harry knew the answer to that)
4) The cup “ belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, stolen by Riddle. Current whereabouts unknown
5) Something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s
a. Gryffindor’s Sword “ Not likely, Prof. Dumbledore would have spotted it
b. The Sorting Hat “ Same as above
c. Something in Godric’s Hollow? ? (Harry knew the answer to that too)
d. Ravenclaw’s wand, whereabouts unknown
6) The snake “ wherever Voldemort is
7) Voldemort “ wherever the snake is (this appeared to be in Ron’s handwriting)
Possible locations of the cup and something of Gryffindor’s / Ravenclaw’s:
1) The orphanage
2) The shop he was employed at, in Knockturn alley
3) The Malfoy mansion
4) Hogwarts (??)
Possibilities for R.A.B.:
Harry had just got this point when he nearly had a heart attack, brought on because Hermione had suddenly said “Hello?” The matter was susceptible of a ready explanation. Hermione had simply sensed a presence in her vicinity and after looking around her in vain, had asked the question of the space around her, wondering if there was someone near. Swallowing his heart, which had jumped into his mouth, Harry scanned the list of names and noted that Hermione had still not found out about Regulus.
As he finished, Hermione rose and, still looking around herself in bewilderment, began to gather up her books and notes. Harry sat absolutely still, thinking about how bizarre it was to be sitting with Hermione in the library without her knowing he was there. For a moment, as she collected her belongings, she looked right at him, and Harry’s resolve nearly melted. I shouldn’t have to be hiding from Hermione and Ron and Ginny and everyone else, Harry thought bitterly, I should be enjoying my last year at Hogwarts with them right now.
As Hermione left the library, Harry gave himself a shake and turned his thoughts the contents of the parchment he had just read. Hermione seemed to have found out just as much as he and Regulus had. He did know, though, that Ravenclaw’s wand had been in one family for generations, before disappearing around the same time the cup had. As far as locations of the Horcruxes were concerned, none of them seemed likely except for the orphanage that Harry had decided to explore after a few days. The shop was not too secure for a Horcrux, and Voldemort didn’t trust his own followers enough to entrust part of his soul to one of them. With a sigh, Harry rose to leave as well, realizing that he was still no closer to defeating Voldemort.
With heavy steps, Harry made his way back towards one of the secret exits from Hogwarts. He couldn’t deny that although he had had to be hidden all the time, it had still been quite a relief to be back in the bustle and chaos of Hogwarts, and he was sorry to leave it. Trying to remember the shortest route to the exit, Harry ducked into one corridor and then pulled up short. The corridor was empty save for two hulking brutes, and Harry had no trouble recognizing them as Malfoy’s lapdogs, Crabbe and Goyle.
Crabbe and Goyle were the quintessential henchmen. Without Malfoy around, they were no longer the force they once had been. They had now taken to whispering dark threats at students from other houses or sniggering when someone from Slytherin made off-colour remarks about other students but that was pretty much all that was left in their realm as far as terrorizing others was concerned. But Hermione’s rather strict rule as Head-Girl had them chafing a great deal as a result of which they were now discussing ways of getting back at her.
“That Granger Mudblood’s got to be taught a lesson,” Crabbe was whispering as Harry crept up behind them to listen.
“Agreed, but how are we going to do it?” grunted Goyle.
“Dunno yet, but there’s got to be some way of pulling her down a peg. Let’s think,” said Crabbe. Harry leant against the wall watching the two of them turning steadily purple as they exerted brains that hadn’t been used in ages and weren’t meant for such strenuous utilisation.
“How about leaving her in the Forbidden Forest? Surely something will attack her there,” said Goyle after a few minutes of contemplation.
“And just how do you think we’re going to get her into the Forbidden Forest?” muttered Crabbe.
“Oh yeah, good point. How about pushing her into the black lake with the giant squid?” said Goyle in an attempt to regain some ground.
Crabbe snorted derisively, “So she’s going to be strolling near the lake one of these days just waiting for us to push her in, is that it?”
“Well, if you’re so clever, you think of something,” mumbled a rather hurt Goyle.
“I would if you’d stop interrupting me with your inane ramblings,” said Crabbe loftily trying to sound like Malfoy.
Harry was pretty sure that they could think till kingdom come and they’d be no closer to a viable plan. On the other hand he didn’t want them blundering around in some pathetic attempt at revenge and end up really hurting her. He was just turning over some spells in his mind, trying to decide which would do most damage to Crabbe and Goyle, when he remembered how he had got rid of Peeves once in his first year and decided to use a similar approach; it was much more subtle. He crept up behind Crabbe and in a hoarse whisper said, “If you touch a hair of her head, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your miserable, pathetic lives.”
Harry thought Crabbe must have lowered the existing record for the standing high-jump. Crabbe and Goyle had assumed that the corridor was deserted and a sudden disembodied voice speaking in his ear had completely unmanned Crabbe. Goyle who had been on the point of saying something, stood with his mouth hanging open as Crabbe shot up like a rocketing pheasant. Feeling that Goyle shouldn’t be left out of the fun, Harry charmed one of the books, which Crabbe had dropped on take-off, to fly up and hit Goyle on the nose.
Crabbe and Goyle wasted no more time in the presence of this new and rather unfriendly ghost and ran pell-mell down the corridor, almost steam-rolling Hermione who was on her way back from the library. Only some nimble footwork enabled her to avoid getting squashed by two of the largest bodies in Hogwarts. She stood watching their retreating backs with a slightly haughty air.
“That’s five points each from Slytherin for running in the halls, you two,” she yelled.
Harry grinned; Hermione wasn’t exactly endearing herself to the Slytherins, and he couldn’t be more pleased. She swept up the corridor reminding Harry irresistibly of the way Professor McGonagall carried herself. Since she didn’t seem to be headed to class and as none of the dormitories in that particular direction, Harry deduced that she was on her way to the grounds. Realizing suddenly that there was one other thing he missed terribly about Hogwarts, Harry silently followed her. Harry knew he shouldn’t go; he was already having enough difficulty tearing himself away from Hogwarts. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself and kept going till he had followed Hermione all the way to the Quidditch pitch, where the Gryffindor team was practicing.
Harry had loved flying since the first day he had clambered aboard a broom. And once introduced to Quidditch, he had shown himself to be a natural Seeker, the most important position in a Quidditch team. Blessed with sharp eyes and quick reflexes, Harry had proved his worth to his team time and time again. Gryffindor had never lost a match that Harry had played in, except for the time he had been attacked by Dementors and once when he had been clobbered by a bludger while distracted. Even Viktor Krum, the Seeker for the Bulgarian national team, had been impressed with Harry’s flying. But now, forced to be discreet, Harry had had to eschew flying as it posed too great a risk of detection, and this caused him a great deal of disappointment.
Up above him, the Gryffindor team wasn’t being coached; it was being bossed around by the new captain, Cormac McLaggen. To Harry’s relief, McLaggen had moved himself to Chaser so Ron was still the Keeper for the team. When they had walked up, Ron had been temporarily distracted, leading him to let an absolute lolly through. Immediately McLaggen was on him and proceeded to chew him out quite thoroughly as the rest of the team took a break. While Ron’s ears turned redder, Harry scanned the skies for a few moments till he found the Seeker. Her red hair blew in the wind as she patrolled the boundaries of the pitch, her eyes peeled for the glint of gold. Harry smiled, glad that he’d been able to see Ginny too. But the smile was half-hearted, circumstances having arranged themselves so as to cause him to hide from her, from all of them.
As Harry watched the team being put through its moves, he wished fervently that he could have been up there with them. He longed to feel the wind on his face, longed for the thrill of peering in the hope of spotting the snitch, the excitement when finally laying eyes on it, the adrenaline rush of the chase, the final grab and then the raucous cheering of a hundred voices as he held it high in the air, winning the game for his team.
Nostalgia settled like a heavy blanket on him, and Harry realized he had made a mistake coming to Hogwarts and, specifically, coming to the grounds. Far from making him feel better, he now felt even worse that he had in the morning. Turning quickly, Harry made his way back to the castle to find an exit back to Hogsmeade. None of the Gryffindors noticed small patches of grass flutter suddenly as if kicked by a petulant shoe.
A/N: I hope you liked it. The next chapter will have some more action in it. Until then…
Chow for now.
Scarhead Steve.