Chapter Twelve: Discovery
Harish sat once again in their back room, surveying his board that had everything he knew about the person who had been haunting him his entire life. Behind him, Jugson was still tied to the chair, panting and mumbling to himself.
Harish growled in annoyance. There was still something missing…it felt as though Harish knew who he was looking for…like the name was buried at the back of his mind but he couldn't dredge it up. He looked at her known agents, the map of their locations, and there was no connection between them…He wracked his memory, trying to hold onto everything he had ever heard or seen that could help him.
Then, suddenly it all clicked and Harish's eyes widened in realization.
The one common thing about the hideouts were that they were bunkers, hidden in the middle of nowhere. Places that had been forgotten. Harish could vividly remember the bunker from his trip not too long ago; the walls dripped with water, the corridor was dimly lit with a few torches, the rooms were pitch black…The memory took him straight back to his kidnapping when he was very young:
Harish sat outside Malfoy Manor, curled up against the side of the house between two large bushes. He had found this hiding spot to be alone. He didn't mind Draco, of course, but growing up alone had taken its toll on him—he was easily overwhelmed and sometimes simply wanted to be by himself.
The small boy turned to face the house and peered in the window behind him. His father, Lord Voldemort, was holding a Death Eater meeting with the few Death Eaters that still knew he was alive—mostly his Inner Circle and a few ministry workers.
Suddenly, he heard a crack behind him and felt a hand close over his mouth. He tried to kick, to lash out, but he could not reach his assailant. Then, he felt a surge of magic come towards him, and he was knocked out.
Next thing Harish knew, he had woken up in a bunker, identical to the one he had found Jugson in. No one spoke to him, he never even saw anyone until his father rescued him. The only way he was fed was by trays that were slipped underneath the door…
That one incident was what encouraged Voldemort to properly ward both their manor and Malfoy Manor himself, and make sure that Harish never left his sight. It was also the reason the boy never went out in public—If he could be taken from under Voldemort's nose in such a secure location, what would happen if they were in broad daylight where there were no wards or protections?
Harish clutched the bridge of his nose, breathing out deeply. He thought further. Finally, he had escaped to Hogwarts where he had complete and total freedom—freedom that led him to stealing the Philosopher's Stone. The young man could still hear Quirrell's voice in the back of his mind from his third year at Hogwarts:
"That's what my employer seemed to think…Didn't want me to draw attention to myself…no matter. I would've killed you anyway, if I hadn't been distracted."
The man had tried to kill him during the first match of the season, Harish recalled. If it had not been for Hermione and Draco distracting him, he very well might have fallen too…Quirrell had been very tight lipped about his employer. He did not even let slip the gender or true intentions of the woman.
As Harish kept going through his years, he realized he never wondered how the diary had gotten into Ginny's possession. He knew it had been stolen past Christmas his third year, and knew they still did not know who stole it to that day. They only knew that the next time it was seen, it had been in Ginny's hands.
A flash of a memory returned to Harish. One from their trip to Diagon Alley just before his fourth year:
"I am so sorry," the man said, stooping to pick up Ginny's books.
Harish watched as the man placed the books in her cauldron, but the teen couldn't help but notice that the man kept his face angled away from the group. That was odd.
He realized he never thought about that man again, much less connect the dots that he was the reason Ginny had the diary. He must have slipped it into her cauldron that day when he returned her books to her. At this thought, Harish remembered the younger girl's words after the whole ordeal had taken place:
"I-I didn't know. I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had left it in there and forgotten about it—"
Yes, that must have been it. Ginny did, of course, find it inside of one of her books…one of her books that the man had picked up and held for the merest of seconds before returning it to her cauldron…
Then Harish's thoughts moved to his fifth year. Not much had happened that year. In fact, other than his godfather returning, nothing happened at all. So, he moved on to his sixth year, which if his fifth year was the year nothing happened, his sixth year was the one that everything happened in.
It started out with him passing out at the Quidditch World Cup. No one saw who cast the spell that caused him to pass out, but they were all certain that it was Jugson after the fact. Because not a month later, Harish's name came out of the goblet twice. The first, he himself had put in, but the second was put in by someone else under the name of a different school. That wasn't that big of a deal, Harish had in no way lost the tournament, but it was evident someone did not have his wishes in their best intentions. For when it became evident that the tournament would not kill him, Jugson had lashed out.
Immediately after the second task, Harish was admitted to the Hospital Wing due to poisoning. It was only then that Harish finally and officially acknowledged that someone was actually trying to kill him. With his suspicions aroused, Jugson must have decided to lay low. Perhaps he thought that the third and final task would kill him.
But when Harish returned from the third task in first place, Jugson got impatient, revealing himself in an attack. The fight flitted through Harish's mind and in the back of his mind he could hear Jugson's voice:
"If my employer wishes to remain a secret, then a secret she shall remain…"
"She?" Harish asked.
"Confringo!" Jugson cried.
Harish drew in a deep breath and pulled himself out of his memories the instant he remembered his fall. It had been as though it was happening all over again and it took Harish a minute to blink the feeling of weightlessness out of his head.
He shook his head, moving on. The memories of the attempts on his own life reminded him of something similar happening—when a Gryffindor girl was sent to St. Mungo's after touching a cursed necklace that she was supposed to be delivering to Daphne…Harish was sure it was a message to him, but he had no idea who could have given the girl the cursed necklace…
And then everything fit into place. He remembered that Draco had told him about Aberforth Dumbledore standing outside the Three Broomsticks…perhaps he had decided to take a side in the war—the third side…
Harish then pulled out an old picture of the Order of the Phoenix from the first war and a picture of the original Death Eaters. Every single person that had ever done anything (other than Quirrell, of course) had either been a member of the Order or had been a follower of Voldemort. He realized that this new army consisted of people who turned their backs on their old allies.
Harish looked back to the picture of the Order.
"It's her!" he breathed in realization, staring at a woman towards the middle of the group. "But how…how is that possible?"
The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that he was correct.
He hastily pinned the pictures back up to the board and began making plans. He had to be careful with the way he handled this…One wrong move and he could lose the game…Nodding firmly, Harish decided that the best action to take at that moment was to inform his father that he had figured out who they were looking for—and how to find them.