Disclaimer: The fine tapestry of plot and characters belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am merely pulling threads at will and weaving my own design in counterpoint to hers.
Chapter 36
Neville’s Nemesis
“Look, I don’t think I can do this!” Harry exclaimed, the cold panic washing over him as he gazed into the secret section of his seven-compartment truck. And to think that he’d actually been looking forward to returning to school after nearly three endless weeks at the Burrow.
“We’ve already gone over this, dear. This is just a dress rehearsal,” Molly cajoled gently as Ron and Hermione looked on. “The Order thinks it best if you return to Hogwarts by more clandestine means. No one will expect you to be hidden inside the trunk that the others take with them on the Knight Bus tomorrow. We have a spell that will shrink you in size so you’ll feel like you’re traveling in a huge stateroom.”
The very thought of being jostled around in a huge compartment by the torturous moves of the Knight Bus was enough to make him nauseous right then and there. “I don’t deny that it’s a clever plan in theory, but unless you’re willing to drug me or stupefy me, I’m not going in that trunk!” Harry sank down on the edge of the sofa, suddenly feeling unsteady. “Tell them I’ll Floo in at three in the morning if they insist on secrecy!”
“Mum, who’s idea was this?” he heard Ginny inquire from the direction of the stairs. She was the last person he expected to come to his defense considering they were hardly on the best of terms these days. “Because unless you want Harry’s brains to be just as scrambled as that moron that imprisoned Mad-Eye Moody in his trunk in the first place--”
“That was Barty Crouch, Junior, dear,” Molly interjected patiently. “And he was a Death Eater, not a moron.”
“Ah, Mum, I think that amounts to the same thing,” Ron observed.
“I have to stand behind Harry, also,” Hermione announced. “He should be allowed another alternative. I, for one, am not boarding the Knight Bus under these circumstances. Harry, you and I can walk back to Hogwarts on foot if we have to.”
“Arthur, what do you think?” Molly cried in desperation.
“Let me confer with Kingsley and I’ll see if we can come up with another plan for Harry,” Arthur offered diplomatically. “But I’m going to have to offer him some sort of assurance that the rest of you will return via the Knight Bus. You can be the decoys, so to speak.”
Harry walked over to the back door to watch Arthur send off a silvery weasel Patronus to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Arthur bent his head for a few words with Hestia who was back on guard duty before he turned around to return to the Burrow.
“We should have something back from Kingsley within a half hour or so,” he affirmed with a sigh.
“Why don’t the rest of you go up and start organizing your belongings for tomorrow?” Molly suggested sternly. “That way we will be ready for any contingencies.”
Harry hesitated at the foot of the stairs and then turned back. “Not to make too big a point of it, but what should use to pack my things seeing as how that’s my trunk in the middle of the living room?” he asked tentatively.
“Why don’t I see if I can rustle up an extra rucksack in Bill’s room, dear?” Molly offered. “I’ll bring it down to Ron’s room for you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry called after her, then walked over and sat down next to Arthur. “I’m sorry to be such a bother, Mr. Weasley. I feel like I’ve done nothing but disrupt your household since I got here.”
“Nonsense, Harry,” Arthur returned kindly. “It’s always chaos around here. Things are so uncertain out in the world today that I think everyone is on edge. If you still have trouble sleeping when you get back to Hogwarts, though, make a visit to Madam Pomfrey; that’s her job.”
“I will, Mr. Weasley. Thanks.”
They both turned towards the back door as Hestia poked her head inside. “Patronus from Kingsley to say: ‘Other arrangements have already been made. Please stand by.’ Don’t know what he means by that, but I’m sure we’ll find out shortly. I’ll be back at my post until then.”
A flash of silver from outside the window indicated that another Patronus had just arrived. The back door opened again to admit Tonks followed by Lupin.
“We’ve come to retrieve Harry,” Lupin announced curtly.
“Remus, Tonks,” Molly welcomed them as she came down the stairs. “How nice of you to come, but Harry wasn’t scheduled to return until tomorrow.”
“I know, Molly,” replied Tonks with a small smile, “but some of us have other duties tomorrow. Kingsley’s waiting outside to make up the third Order member in our group. I’m sorry to have to cut your holiday short, Harry.”
“Perfectly all right,” Harry replied with relief. At last, someone who could make a decision.
“Why don’t you throw a few things together quickly, Harry?” suggested Lupin. “I’m sure the others can bring the rest of your belongings with them tomorrow.”
Lupin’s authoritative tone left no room for argument as Harry nodded briskly and raced up the stairs. He threw his most important items into the bottom of the borrowed rucksack then added a few books from Bill’s collection that had proven useful.
“Ron, please pack the rest of my stuff and bring it with you,” Harry pleaded urgently.
“Sure, Harry. Is everything all right?”
“Something’s definitely up. I’ve never seen Lupin looking so cross, not a smile for anyone.”
“Do you think there have been any developments in the outside world we don’t know about?” Hermione ventured from the doorway, her voice laced with concern.
“Dunno,” Harry replied honestly as he gave her shoulder a squeeze in passing. “Thanks again for those great books you got me for Christmas. I didn’t dare take any in my rucksack in case I’m searched but will you please, please make sure that they are packed in my secret compartment tomorrow? Will you do that for me, Hermione?” He looked her earnestly in the eyes to make sure she understood. “I’ll get the other thing from you then as well.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, mate,” Ron assured him in parting.
Harry took the steps down two at a time and then made for the coat rack.
“Make sure you’re dressed extra warmly, Harry,” Lupin advised. “We’re headed for a different climate.”
Something about Lupin’s words seemed oddly familiar but Harry couldn’t place it immediately. Nonetheless, he threw on an extra sweatshirt from the top of his rucksack before shrugging into his coat.
With a final word of thanks to Arthur and Molly, Harry followed his escorts out onto the back lawn of the Burrow. Just beyond Hestia’s checkpoint, Kingsley Shacklebolt waited in the late afternoon sunlight.
Hestia stopped them at the end of the Weasley property. “Patronus check all around,” she demanded. “Harry has a right to know his traveling companions.”
Silver giraffe, wolf and panther materialized almost immediately. Harry took a few extra moments to produce a stag that galloped off to join the rest.
With a sigh of relief, Harry shook Kingsley’s hand in greeting.
“Sorry for all the extra security, Harry,” Kingsley offered. “Things are what they are.”
“This is going to seem like an unfamiliar procedure to you, Harry, but trust me it is perfectly routine,” Lupin explained, smiling for the first time since he’d arrived. “I will stand behind you in the lead position, Tonks and Kingsley will be in front and to the sides. The object is for us to encircle you, is that clear?” He waited for Harry’s nod before continuing. “Since our destination will only be accessible for a short period of time, this will be a one jump Apparition. I know that you’re familiar enough with the target to get there on your own, Harry, but you must relinquish all control to us in order for this to work. In case we get separated, the target is Professor McGonagall’s aerie. You do remember where that is?”
Of course, the change in climate. Harry smiled at the memory and nodded that he understood.
In less than a heartbeat, the four of them dissolved in a blaze of white smoke and reappeared seconds later atop the crenellated tower that Harry remembered. Before he had time to register that the sensation had not been as uncomfortable with the four of them together, Kingsley was firing off another Patronus to advise the staff at Hogwarts of their safe arrival.
“Here, take the key,” Lupin urged Kingsley as he turned over his pocket watch and chain. “Please make doubly sure that the headmistress closes the window. I will be down with Harry shortly. Tonks, please lock the door behind you and wait for my three knocks to reopen it.”
“I’ll be waiting for you down below then,” Tonks promised. She gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and Lupin a slightly longer one on the lips before following Kingsley down the trap door.
“Remember to keep your eyes on Kingsley’s back and it won’t seem so steep going down,” Lupin called after her. Then turning to Harry, Lupin urged him to sit on the floor of the aerie so that he would not be visible over the ramparts. “I have no way of knowing exactly when the headmistress closes the window and we are still vulnerable until then,” he explained, assuming a low crouch himself.
“If you’ll forgive me for asking, Remus,” Harry began, “but why do I feel like I’ve just been rescued by a detail from the Order? Why would I need to be rescued from the Burrow?”
Lupin’s familiar grin was back as he engulfed Harry in a huge bear hug. “It sure is good to have you back, Harry! I didn’t mean to frighten you, but we were on a very tight schedule.”
“I’m glad to see you, too, Remus; you really have no idea,” Harry admitted with a deep sigh. “I thought I was going to go out of my mind when Molly explained the plan to get me back here on the Knight Bus. It was absolutely terrifying! I would have rather taken my chances on foot with Hermione.”
“If that was your back-up plan, Harry, I think it needed a bit of work,” Lupin observed with a chuckle.
“That was just a diversionary tactic,” Harry clarified, thinking on the spot. “Once their backs were turned, I figured I’d just Apparate into Hogsmeade village and take one of the secret tunnels back into the castle.”
“Much better,” agreed Lupin. “But what about your belongings?”
“I hadn’t worked out all the details yet,” Harry admitted with a grin.
Lupin laughed in the manner that always made Harry feel like his burdens had just been lifted. “Was it really that bad?” Lupin asked softly.
“Not all of it,” Harry allowed. “I did get a considerable amount of research done.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look very well rested to me. Have you been ill?”
“Not in the way that you mean, but I haven’t been able to sleep very well…”
“What’s the rest of the story, Harry?” Lupin urged sympathetically.
“It seems really silly in retrospect; can we just talk about it tomorrow? I think a full night’s sleep will do much for my perspective.”
“I’ll accept that. Just tell me this: how long has it been since you slept well?”
Harry sighed in resignation. He really didn’t want to make Lupin feel guilty for having enjoyed his own holiday, but at the same time he didn’t have the energy to concoct a lie, either. Settling for the unvarnished truth, he replied, “Since the day that you and Tonks took the girls shopping.”
“That was two weeks ago!” Lupin gasped. “Harry, you should have contacted me!”
“You were busy, you were with Tonks’ family, I didn’t know how to reach you. There were a thousand reasons…”
“You could have sent me an owl.”
“I overheard Kingsley tell Arthur that it was risky sending an owl when you were that far away; the owl might be intercepted.”
“Certainly when it comes to a confidential message from the Order,” Lupin conceded. “But Harry, all you had to say was: ‘I’m unhappy, I want to be someplace else’ and sign your name, even your initial would have been sufficient. You can’t get much vaguer than that.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Harry offered, knowing that he probably still wouldn’t have interrupted Lupin’s holiday. He was so bone tired, he felt like he was swaying on his feet “ even though he was sitting down.
“Come,” Lupin urged him to his feet, grabbing the rucksack from Harry’s hand and hoisting it over his own shoulder. “I can’t carry you down these stairs. Take it slowly, if you need to. I’ll be right behind you.”
After sleeping like a dead man, Harry awoke the next day to the sound of a woman’s voice. What was a woman doing in his room? he thought groggily. As his brain shook off the last vestiges of sleep, he confirmed that it was not his imagination and that Tonks was genuinely sitting on the edge of his bed, talking to him softly. Her tone was unfamiliar to him but it was definitely her voice. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand so that everything swam into focus.
“Tonks, so it is you,” Harry observed, suppressing an involuntary yawn as he stretched his limbs. “I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming.”
She smiled warmly down at him and tousled his hair affectionately. “We were worried about you. You realize you’ve been asleep for close to fourteen hours straight.”
“Essentially, but I did wake up sometime after midnight and changed out of my jeans and into my pajamas… Do you realize you have the most wonderful lilting quality to your voice when you speak softly?” Harry added with a smile of his own. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? I thought you reserved the extra favors for the Hufflepuffs.”
Tonks laughed and tossed a nearby cushion at him for his cheekiness. Rising to her feet, she turned to look down at him. “You never flirted like this with me before I became a married woman,” she returned playfully.
“No,” admitted Harry devilishly, “it would have been truly dangerous then!”
Still laughing merrily, Tonks retreated to the relative safety of the common room. The minute her back was turned, Harry climbed out of bed and tied his dressing gown over his pajamas. He searched for slippers in his rucksack but he must have left them at the Burrow. With a shrug, he walked out into the common room in bare feet. Tonks had curled up on one end of the sofa to wait for him in front of the fire.
“Just give me a moment to throw some water on my face,” Harry demurred as he started to duck through the wardrobe. “Is Neville still in his room?”
“Nope, checked that first thing when I came in. Didn’t want to startle him with my presence.”
Making sure he was out of target range, Harry added, “Too bad, he might have enjoyed one of your personal wake-up calls himself.”
“Harry Potter, you’re lucky I don’t deduct house points!” Tonks called from the other room.
No, house points were for amateurs, Harry thought with a pang as he remembered Ginny’s famous tagline.
“Would you like me to order you some breakfast?” Tonks offered as Harry joined her, still running fingers through his damp hair.
“Only if you’ll join me,” he stipulated as he sat at the opposite end of the sofa to face her directly.
“Ooooh, Harry, it’s still the middle of the night for me,” Tonks replied, screwing up her face. “I couldn’t possibly eat anything.”
“Let me see if there’s any cider in the cold cabinet then,” Harry suggested. As he poured them each a glass, he commented, “You do realize it’s almost nine in the morning, don’t you, Tonks?”
She nodded wearily. “Don’t remind me.”
“Just how late did the headmistress’ party run last night?” Harry inquired knowingly. “I read Remus’ note when I got up to change.”
“Let’s see, after we ducked back here to check on you one last time, I think we were back in our quarters at about four in the morning.”
He whistled appreciatively. “Must have been some party!”
“It was,” she returned, smiling dreamily. “You should have let Neville send us a message that you were all right when you woke up to change.”
“Neville was sound asleep by then. Believe me, if I thought it would have gotten me something better than a handful of butterbeers, I would have! I was so thirsty when I woke up I could hardly think of anything else.”
“Remus was worried about you the whole time. It’s a shame you weren’t coherent enough once he got you down to your room to teach you how to send a Patronus message.”
“I’m sorry, Tonks, all of that is a blur,” Harry admitted ruefully.
She smiled indulgently. “It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep will do for your exhaustion. You look much better this morning.”
Harry smiled at her caring tone then wondered, “Tonks, how did you get into these suites, not to mention into my room, without being zapped? Neville didn’t let you in himself, did he?”
“I got the emergency override from Remus,” she admitted with a small shrug. “He wasn’t too happy that all the incantations will have to be changed.”
“Was that at wand point or did you have to wrestle him for it?”
“All it took was a well-placed threat to report him to Poppy Pomfrey for staying out to all hours of the night and then not sleeping the requisite hours in the morning to make up for it,” Tonks confessed archly.
“But weren’t you his accomplice when it came to staying out all night?”
“Absolutely, but Poppy won’t see it that way! Trust me.”
“Tell me this then: why did the Order show up to extract me from the Burrow yesterday?” Harry entreated. “I asked Remus, but I don’t remember getting much of an answer.”
“You wouldn’t have, not then,” she conceded with a chuckle. “He went a little berserk when the message came through from Arthur to Kingsley. We were all having afternoon tea with the headmistress, none of us aware of the plan. I’m sure Kingsley heard me gasp. Remus knows that my childhood nightmares were of being locked away in a toy chest. We just took matters into our own hands at that point.”
“Thanks.”
“It didn’t help that it just reinforced all the worries that Remus had about your welfare over the break; regrets that he hadn’t insisted on bringing you with us.”
“Tonks, I couldn’t impose on your and your family--”
“Nonsense, you’re family, too. Accept it for what it is, Harry; Remus can’t help caring as much as he does.”
They turned at the sound of the sconce opening to admit Neville.
“Harry! You’re awake!” Neville greeted him warmly. “You were sleeping like a proverbial log when I came in last night. The professors came in to check on you before they went to their party. Left me in charge of sending any distress calls. Glad to see you’re looking much better.”
That was a big speech for Neville; Harry wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that. Then turning to Tonks, Neville surprised Harry further by posing, “Was it a good party after all, Professor?”
“Yes, it was, Neville.” Tonks flashed him her most radiant smile. “We got in a wee bit late, though.”
“I can just imagine.” Neville nodded sagely. “The pair of you looked like you were going to a gala celebration. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so enchanting -- like a regular fairy princess -- and Professor Lupin looked so dashing in his white tie and tails!”
“I sure hope you took pictures,” Harry remarked, wishing he’d gotten to see them firsthand.
“We did,” Tonks assured him. “I better get back now, Harry. If Remus wakes up and finds I’m not in the residence, I can’t vouch for what may happen. Good to see you, Neville.”
Harry walked Tonks to the exit then suddenly realized he was still in his nightclothes. “I was going to offer to walk you downstairs but I guess I’m not exactly dressed for it,” he issued with a self-conscious laugh, wiggling his bare toes.
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a giggle. “You will come and have supper with us tonight, won’t you? Remus would never forgive me if I forgot to invite you.”
Harry had not been expecting this. “Of course, what time?”
“Let’s see, we’ll be doing Patronus checks all afternoon. Don’t remind me that I have myself to blame for that,” she noted wryly. “How about seven?”
“Perfect,” Harry agreed, giving her a hug in parting.
“Nothing fancy, you know. Just us.”
Still perfect, Harry thought to himself.
“We have pictures from our trip to show you,” she added with a wink.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Tonks, where did your family go over the holidays?” Harry asked, the curiosity finally getting the better of him.
“Africa,” she answered simply as the sconce cycled closed behind her.
A long, hot shower and a hearty breakfast later, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower feeling like a new person.
At the grinding sound of the stone sconce, Neville poked his head into the common room and asked, “Harry, is that you? I was hoping to have a word before the others got back.”
“Sure, Neville,” replied Harry, feeling as if he had finally returned to his normal self.
He was caught short by the solemn “ no, haunted “ look on Neville’s face as he sat down to face him in front of the hearth. Outside it had started snowing again, but the fire lent the room a golden glow.
“Did something happen while I was away?” Harry returned, trying to not let the dire possibilities overwhelm his imagination.
Neville gulped noticeably and then nodded vigorously. Harry was struck by how much Neville seemed to have reverted to his younger, more timid self in the space of a heartbeat. That concerned Harry more than anything else as he waited patiently for Neville to begin.
Focusing his eyes deeply within the flickering flames, Neville finally found the courage to speak. “I heard a noise coming from your room last week. More like a voice, but it was echoing strangely. I thought maybe you or Ron had come back early. It could even have been Professor Lupin “ it was definitely a man’s voice. No one answered my calls or my knocks, but the noise continued sporadically. Finally, I just walked in “ sorry “ but there was no one there. On my way out the door, I noticed the bureau shaking slightly like there was something inside trying to get out.”
The mirror, thought Harry immediately, it had to be the bloody mirror! After all of these months with no response.
He remembered clearly packing for the Christmas holiday: he had locked his most personal possessions into the bottom drawer of his desk together with the Patronus list and the old photo album that Hagrid had rescued from his parents’ house. At the last minute, he had added the Halloween photo of Ginny and the Omnioculars. The extra wand, he had wound carefully within the folds of his Invisibility Cloak and placed at the bottom of his trunk together with the Marauder’s Map “ just in case he wanted to keep an eye on Hogwarts from afar. After much deliberation, he had decided the locket from Grimmauld Place was just too important to risk leaving behind, so he had left it untouched in the secret pocket of his seven-compartment trunk.
But the unresponsive mirror, he had left in the bottom drawer of his bureau. Right next to the log sheets that documented his failed attempts.
Neville’s narrative seemed to have stalled, so Harry decided to give it an extra push. “I have a two-way mirror in the bottom drawer, Neville. I assumed that it was no longer functioning since I’d had to reassemble the broken pieces with magic. I guess I was wrong.”
Neville nodded automatically, but his expression was still apprehensive.
“Was someone trying to communicate through the mirror? Did you open the bottom drawer, Neville? I won’t be angry with you for opening up my bureau, I promise. Neville, just talk to me!” Harry’s tone grew more urgent despite his attempts to stay calm for Neville’s sake.
Dear Merlin, Harry thought with dread, could it have been Sirius? Trying to contact him from beyond the veil, from the land of death? He voiced his concerns with a tongue that felt like it was covered with ashes.
Neville turned his head slowly and looked Harry in the eye as if he was finally seeing him for the first time. Very slowly, he shook his head to indicate ‘no’.
“Neville, you’re going to have to help me out here,” Harry entreated softly. “Otherwise, we’ll just be playing guessing games into the night.”
Impulsively, Harry jumped up from his chair and poured the last of the cider from the cold cabinet. Wordlessly, he handed the glass to Neville. Neville drank deeply and slowly, never taking his eyes from Harry’s face, looking for all the world like a lost urchin.
“He said I was to give the message only to you,” Neville said in a barely audible whisper. “That he had been trying to contact you for sometime now… And that I should ask you, no wait, I think he stressed that I should demand that you tell me about the prophecy.”
Let’s see here, Harry’s mind raced, who knew about the prophecy? Trelawney never remembered them, so that left Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, and himself. Slowly, the answer dawned on Harry: the one other person who knew, the one person who could generate such abject terror in Neville.
“Was it Severus Snape?” Harry dared to ask, his voice so quiet that it fell short of a whisper.
The intensity of the terror in his eyes said it all, but Neville nodded grimly to make doubly sure that Harry understood.
“What prophecy could he mean, Harry? I broke the prophecy when we were in the Ministry. Could there be another?”
“No, it’s the same one,” Harry admitted, feeling ambivalence over whether he should burden yet another person with his troubles. “The prophecy was originally pronounced to Dumbledore so he was able to recount it to me “ even though the glass sphere had been smashed.”
Dumbledore had also said to share it only with Ron and Hermione, he reminded himself, but then Dumbledore was certain that the words pertained only to Harry. Dead certain “ and perhaps dead wrong. There was so much yearning in Neville’s gaze that Harry made an impromptu decision.
“Neville, I promise we’ll come back to the prophecy in a moment, but I need to know a little more about this other…development…first. What else can you tell me about what happened with the mirror?”
“There’s not much else to tell,” Neville stammered. “He wasn’t very pleased that it was my face that he encountered “ not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Said he would make another attempt same day, same time, the following week, if he was able. And to make sure that you were nearby at that time. That’s today, Harry! It’s a week today.”
“Think back carefully, Neville, what time of day?”
“It was before lunchtime, that I know for sure,” Neville screwed up his face in concentration. “Closer to lunch than to breakfast time.”
Harry whipped his head around to look at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was nearing half-past ten. Right around this time of day, he thought. Well, at least it would be before Ron and Hermione arrived this afternoon. He was certain that this development would have immediately led to such an animated strategy discussion with the pair of them that they would have been certain to drown out the sounds from the mirror.
“Looks like you were able to warn me just in time, Neville,” Harry replied with his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we continue this discussion from my bedroom so that I won’t miss the return call?” At Neville’s apprehensive look, Harry added, “You can sit nearest the door and slip out if you need to. I’ll face Snape on my own.” It will be preferable than facing him down at wand point, Harry added to himself.
Taking a moment to cast a precautionary muffliato spell in the direction of the stone sconce, Harry ushered Neville in the direction of his bureau. Sensing that Neville was still on the verge of panicking, Harry pulled out his desk chair and set it just outside the doorway.
“You sit here, Neville,” he suggested gently. “If I sit on the end of my bed, I can talk to you perfectly well through the doorway, but you will be totally out of the line of sight….Besides, I need you to keep a lookout for the sconce just in case the muffling spell prevents us from hearing someone arriving as well.”
The last part was a white lie, Harry admitted to himself. That was the beauty of the Prince’s genius: unlike the Imperturbable Charm, the muffliato spell blocked others from hearing you, but you could still hear others approaching. But, right now, Neville needed to feel that he was performing a valuable function.
Neville nodded with a weak attempt at a smile. “Harry, are you going to tell me about the prophecy after all?”
Harry smiled in return as he tucked his feet under himself to sit comfortably on his mattress. “Yes, I though I might at that.”
“But, Harry, why should you do this based on a suggestion from S-S-Snape, of all people? A second-hand suggestion, at that. We still don’t know whether or not he’s the enemy!”
“I’m not,” Harry explained. “It’s my decision alone and I think it’s something you should know. But, Neville, we’re talking about strictest confidence here. The only other people who know are Ron and Hermione. I’m warning you, though, you may not thank me when this is over.”
With a deep breath, Harry recited the words as Dumbledore had passed them on to him so many months ago. Then he watched the last bits of color drain from Neville’s face.
“That could just as easily refer to me!” Neville gasped, not daring to raise his voice beyond a whisper. ”Why didn’t Dumbledore see fit to tell me this himself?”
There was a hint of healthy outrage in that final statement, Harry noted with satisfaction. Neville definitely had a back-bone, regardless of his outward appearance.
“Dumbledore was convinced that my scar meant that Voldemort had, in effect, marked me. His opinion was that as of that one moment, the prophecy could no longer apply to anyone else.”
“But the torture of my parents was also at the direct order of You-Know-Who,” Neville reasoned. “And Harry, I don’t have to tell you that not all scars can be seen to the naked eye.”
“I’ve become convinced that your interpretation also has merit, Neville. That’s why I thought you should know about the words of the prophecy.”
“But that means that it may have to be me that vanquishes You-Know-Who,” Neville announced with sudden realization.
“That’s a distinct possibility,” Harry replied candidly.
“Oh, Harry, we are so lost!” bemoaned Neville. “I couldn’t even do a Patronus charm properly so that Professor Lupin could teach me how to attach a message to it last night!”
“I thought you’d mastered that when we were in Dumbledore’s Army,” Harry observed.
“I can produce the silver smoke reliably,” Neville admitted. “But I never seem to muster enough conviction to get the animal shape to form.”
“Well, the corporeal form is more difficult,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “But I’m the one at fault if you failed to master it completely. I was the one in charge of that lesson… Do you still remember the incantation: Expecto Patronum?”
Neville nodded eagerly.
“Then let me try to walk you through it while we have a bit of uninterrupted time,” offered Harry. “I had similar problems initially when Professor Lupin took me under his wing because I wasn’t using a strong enough memory.” He paused a moment to consider his best approach. “Please forgive me if I get too personal, Neville, but it’s the only way, unfortunately. Are you still seeing Daphne?”
“Yes,” Neville replied shyly. “We spent a very nice holiday together here at school.”
“Think back on the night of the Slytherin party, then,” Harry suggested. “Paint the memory in your mind: the vivid colors of the sunset that were visible through the windows, the sound of the laughter sprinkled through the crowd mingling with the sounds of music, the way that the girls’ white gowns floated in the air when they moved, the particular smell of leather and paper in that little private reading alcove just off the main room. Picture yourself in that room, be there.” From the glazed expression in his eyes, Harry could see that Neville was following along perfectly. “Now concentrate on the sensation of Daphne’s hand in yours, the joy that her touch made you feel.” Harry was more certain than ever that there was more to this memory, but he would have to let Neville add those details for himself. “Hold on to that memory as you do the incantation,” he finished softly.
As in a dream, Neville removed his wand from his pocket and intoned with great fervor, “Expecto Patronum!”
Almost immediately, a silvery form began to issue from Neville’s wand tip. Harry watched, mesmerized, as the delicate tendrils of smoke danced and swirled around each other in slow motion, finally settling on the shape of a bounding fox.
“Neville, open your eyes!” Harry cried softly. “You did it!”
“It’s a fox, Harry!” Neville replied joyously. “My Patronus is a fox!”
The demanding tone of the voice that issued from the slightly open drawer immediately drew Harry’s attention. With one last glance at Neville’s cherubic smile of triumph, Harry softly drew the door to his bedroom closed. In the background, he would still hear Neville continuing to practice in the common room.
Kneeling next to the bureau, Harry slowly pulled the bottom drawer to him so that he could focus more readily on the mirrored image before him. The dark eyes and hawk-like features of Severus Snape were staring back at him.
“Well, well, well, Potter,” he began. “Looks like Longbottom was able to untie his tongue long enough to give you my message. Another Christmas miracle.”
“It’s only by chance that you caught me today. I wasn’t originally scheduled to return until this afternoon,” Harry offered, resolving to avoid mirroring the man’s sarcasm.
“Falling short of our expectations is what the holidays do best,” Snape returned in a vague attempt at commiseration. Harry felt as if the man’s inky gaze was trying to bore into his soul, even though he was reasonably sure the Legilimency could not be performed with such a physical separation between them.
“Neville tells me that you’ve made previous attempts to contact me,” Harry prodded, anxious to get to the point.
“You should be more careful where you keep your accursed objects. They block the transmissions from rudimentary devices such as two-way mirrors.”
Accursed objects? That was the quaint manner in which one of Bill’s books had referred to Horcruxes, Harry thought to himself. Could Snape be referring to the locket from Grimmauld Place? He had turned that over to Hermione for safekeeping when Mrs. Weasley had commandeered the use of his truck at the Burrow. It was entirely possible that its previous presence in his room had been blocking mirror transmissions.
“Thanks for the advice, but how about explaining how Sirius’ mirror came to be in your possession?”
“Surely you weren’t naïve enough to think the man might have taken it with him!” Snape volleyed in return. “I retrieved the mirror from Grimmauld Place personally to keep it from falling into the hands of the Dark Lord himself. Or would you rather be facing him at the moment?”
“As you can see, I am without a social secretary at this time,” Harry shot back, already feeling his resolve slipping. “He would’ve had to make an appointment just like everyone else “ in the few moments before Neville lost consciousness.”
To his surprise, Snape chuckled at this retort. “Seems like your attempts at sophomoric jokes have improved. Others have warned me that the werewolf has developed a rather wry sense of humor.”
“If you’re referring to Lupin, I suggest you call him by his name “ or this interview is over!”
“I hardly think he needs you to defend his honor, but I will abide by your restrictions.”
“Get to the point,” Harry hissed, surprising himself with the venom that his voice injected.
“I have reason to believe that you made a rather ill-advised reconnaissance trip to the Black residence at Grimmauld Place over the summer--”
“And where would you have heard that?” Harry cut across him.
Snape’s disdainful expression intensified as he stepped back from the mirror and lifted up the battered remains of Ron’s Evil Eye Detector. “Did I not tell you I had been there myself?”
“How did you convince the house-elf to serve as your tour guide?”
“Do not assume!” Snape barked. “It was not me with the house-elf; that was Rodolphus Lestrange. In his dementia, the elf sees the Black sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, as his pureblood mistresses. They do not correct his mistake when it can serve them.”
All the convoluted charms that had been placed on the townhouse, all the magical locks that had been installed on the front door, and their efforts could still be circumvented by the inherent magic of a lowly house-elf. The illogical rules of magic could be so frustrating, Harry mused.
Aloud, he challenged Snape directly. “Considering that Sirius left the house and its contents to me, I would ask why you are trespassing on my property?”
“There is some debate over whether the title was ever Sirius’ to bequeath in the first place.”
“What about the house-elf? Dumbledore had me command him to work at Hogwarts’ kitchens and he was compelled to so do “ despite his resistance.”
“The testimony of a decrepit house-elf would hardly hold up in a court of wizard law. As for Dumbledore’s deductive reasoning, when has logic ever held sway over the laws of mankind?”
Grudgingly, Harry conceded that perhaps Snape had made some valid points.
“Nobody’s interested in a crumbling townhouse, Potter, they’re interested in the contents. There has been a mad scramble for favor with the Dark Lord recently--”
“I’m sure your murderous ways have bested them all!”
“Think of me as his personal lap dog, if you will “ that is a discussion for a different day,” Snape issued through clenched teeth. “I will warn you only once: if you insist on having my head on a butcher block, you will find that my corpse is not much of a conversationalist.”
Harry stared daggers at Snape’s image in the mirror, but held his tongue.
“As I was saying,” continued Snape in a haughty manner, “many of the pureblood families have been given certain artifacts by the Dark Lord for safekeeping as a mark of their favored status. Lucius Malfoy mishandled the diary that was given into his care, as you well know. It is rumored that an item was entrusted to the Black family as well, but no one is certain. That is what they seek at Grimmauld Place.”
Could it be the locket? Harry thought as the grip of fear tightened around his heart. No, nobody could know about the locket. As far as Voldemort was concerned, the locket was still in the middle of the lake. Dumbledore had said that Voldemort could not sense when the actual Horcruxes were disturbed, that they did not provide that sort of an active link.
Idly, he wondered whether the Death Eaters had found anything else of value among Kreacher’s treasure trove “ or even if they had succeeded in finding any of the elf’s hiding places without additional assistance. After all, it had been sheer serendipity that had led Harry to find the wadded up handkerchief among the crumbled bricks in the pantry. Who knows what else the three of them could have found if they had been able to make a more systematic search of the premises?
“If I knew of such a thing, I would hardly tell you,” Harry retorted.
“I do not wish to take it from you, you fool, I wish to warn you. They are seeking a gilded cup, two-handled, rumored to have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. And Potter, if you have any more accursed objects lying about, I recommend that you seek the assistance of a house-elf to remove them to a lead-lined box. Prolonged exposure to those items can have undesirable consequences for the likes of you and me, the elves are unaffected.” With a furtive look to his left, Snape hissed, “Someone approaches. Be here on Thursday morning at ten.”
In the blink of an eye, the mirror reverted to its familiar silvery surface.
Harry rose with shaky knees and allowed his body to collapse on the bed. He felt as if he had just run a mental marathon. He had no rational explanations for Snape’s actions or motives, but that was just business as usual. That Snape had knowledge of the Horcruxes was obvious, although he clearly hadn’t yet determined how much Dumbledore had revealed to Harry “ and Harry intended to keep it that way.
In the end, Harry was left pondering why Dumbledore had trusted this man with so much “ and why he hadn’t adequately explained his reasoning to anyone else. There was no denying that underneath the exterior, there was an extraordinary intellect. Was there true malice as well, or just an off-putting manner that had been honed to perfection?
With his heart still hammering, Harry entered the dates and times of the last two transmissions in his log, followed by the initials S.S. Then he locked the document into the bottom drawer of his desk with his other confidential items.
Harry Potter and the Hero's Lament by L A Moody
Chapter Notes: Returning to school a day earlier than the others, Harry finds that things have become much more complicated in his absence.