It was irritating.
Beyond irritating.
Severus glared at the teacup in front of him as though it was the fault of the teacup that he had to spend his Friday night in the Headmaster's office listening to the old wizard recount to him and Moody what had happened at the War Council.
Moody took a swig out of his flask and Severus shot him an annoyed look. Moody could have at least shared the alcohol, Severus thought sourly, even if it was Firewhiskey and not the twenty year old Scotch that Severus had in his quarters. Moody simply smiled at him, a twist of his lips that gave his scarred face a grotesque edge.
"…and so that was all that was discussed." Albus finished at last. "Your thoughts, gentleman?"
Moody looked at Severus daring him to go first. Severus looked at Moody with a raised eyebrow. Who did Moody think he was? Black? Only a Gryffindor would respond to that kind of a dare and jump in first.
"Alastor?" prompted Albus smoothly when neither spoke.
Moody grunted but gestured over the polished surface of Albus's desk in Albus's vague direction without looking at him. "Clearly mistakes were made. Expected better of Black. He must have gone rusty in Azkaban."
"Or perhaps he is now beginning to recognise the true challenge of keeping young Harry safe." Albus smiled smugly, as though Black's incompetence somehow justified his own.
Severus scowled. "It does not surprise me that Potter was his usual reckless self."
And once again, Severus hadn't been anywhere near saving the boy, protecting him as he had promised. It was not his fault. It was Potter's. Merlin knew the boy was attracted to danger like he was an iron filing and danger was a magnet.
"Why Severus," Albus said his eyes twinkling, "one could almost make the argument that you are defending Sirius Black."
Severus stiffened and threw Albus a disgusted look. He didn't bother saying anything verbally; he wasn't going to dignify Albus's comment with a reply.
Albus hurriedly cleared his throats. "Regardless of the mistakes made in keeping Harry safe, my original question was more about our mysterious opponent and what the threat means for us here at Hogwarts as Harry and the rest of the students will be arriving shortly, and let us not forget that there is the Tri-Wizard Tournament to consider."
"We should cancel that bloody tournament for a start." Moody said immediately.
Severus nodded in agreement. The tournament was the height of foolishness in his opinion; it would have been without someone after Potter, without Potter himself around. Who wanted more brats around? And Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had their own issues.
Albus looked at them both with disappointment. "We can't cancel the tournament. It is a wonderful opportunity…"
"For someone to take advantage of the holes that will open up in our security and kill Potter." Moody interrupted gruffly.
"We'll bring in additional security and we'll discuss specifics nearer the time the tournament begins but cancelling it is not an option; it would cause a diplomatic incident." Albus countered. He placed his hands flat on his desk. "Let us put the tournament aside and concentrate on immediate issues. Severus, what about you? Any thoughts on our mystery attacker?"
Severus pursed his lips. He hadn't told Albus about the block on his memories and he didn't believe Moody had mentioned it to Albus either. He carefully weighed up whether to keep his secret and decided it was too soon to believe that the hidden memory had any value. "I agree with Lucius's comments to Black; whoever made the second death threat and went after Potter yesterday must be someone kept secret from the rest of us just as Pettigrew was kept secret."
"Do you think whoever it is, it's someone who You-Know-Who trusts to hide out with?" questioned Moody.
Severus resisted the urge to shift position under the intensity of Moody's regard. "It is the most likely conclusion. I suspect that it was the Dark Lord's decision to keep this person sequestered and thus it is someone he trusts. Further, no follower of the Dark Lord, hidden or otherwise, would have presumed to go after Potter with such zeal yesterday if it did not have the Dark Lord's approval. The fact that Pettigrew was part of it suggests in itself that the attack happened at the Dark Lord's behest."
"Indeed," muttered Albus, with a weary sigh.
"I also concur with Director Bones that it was an improved Polyjuice that was used." Severus said. "The Dark Lord himself undoubtedly provided the recipe. He had me brew it once."
"All of which substantiates that this fellow is working with Riddle." Moody huffed. "So, Bones has tagged the Death Eaters who are identified – we know it's not the likely suspects. We know it's someone was has the ability to call a house elf to them. We know whoever it was had access to the Longbottoms' party either impersonating someone or they were present as themselves." He grunted. "Amelia will be doing her nut. There're too many suspects to tag; the Aurors would be spread too thin."
"Amelia said the same thing." Albus nodded slowly. "It is unfortunate but our best hope lies in Voldemort or one of his associates making contact with one of the known Death Eaters."
Which was unlikely to happen, Severus thought. The Dark Lord had found somewhere safe to use as a base and had surrounded himself with loyal followers. What need would he have to call upon someone who had denied serving him and thus was no doubt a traitor in the eyes of the Dark Lord? If Severus was the Dark Lord, he would wait until he was fully restored to a body before contacting any of them. He refocused on the question of who else could be helping the Dark Lord.
"This new associate of the Dark Lord's," Severus drawled, "will have been the one to brew the potion. He would have been the one to impersonate Dawlish and duel Weasley and Minerva. He also set a magical fire detonation skilfully enough to make it appear to be an accident."
"And set a lock down and the wider anti-transportation ward." Moody nodded grimly. "He's a powerful bastard alright."
"That," Severus suggested, "should reduce the number of suspects."
"Sirius suggested the same thing," Albus replied, eyes twinkling again, "but as Bertie pointed out, the publically acknowledged magical abilities of the suspects may not match up with their private and secretly practiced abilities. It is likely that this individual has remained invisible as a potential threat by not demonstrating their power."
Unfortunately Croaker was right, Severus thought and refused to think he was less disgruntled at that than the comment he and Black had thought along similar lines.
Moody motioned with his flask. "What about the Death Eaters who were caught?"
"In Ministry holding awaiting trials which will be held in due course. After what happened with Sirius, Amelia and Cornelius are keen to ensure all process and protocols are duly followed." Albus confirmed. "Three of the Death Eatrers are claiming to be under the Imperius curse; Dennis Travers refused to speak at all."
"From what I can gather from Lucius today, the blame for their capture is being attributed to the Aurors being on high alert after the reported fire and realisation that there was an anti-transportation ward erected." Severus informed them. Lucius had been smug during breakfast that morning. Travers was a fanatic and he would have hindered the pureblood nobility's scrambling to achieve some kind of neutrality agreement with Black.
"Excellent." Albus said brightly.
Moody glared at him, his magical eye spinning. "Don't get bloody cocky, Albus. Yesterday was an obvious attempt to snatch Potter, possibly for this ritual you think is in the works. It'd be easy enough to terrorise and challenge the kid for the requisite nine months if you have him in your possession."
"An attempt that was thwarted." Albus pointed out serenely.
Severus and Moody both looked at Albus with identical derisive glares.
"Only because Potter has sheer dumb luck on his side!" snapped Severus.
"I'd disagree with that," Moody said, waving at him, "boy has to have some talent to last against a powerful wizard long enough for help to turn up, but my point is this: if this attempt failed, that means they'll want to make sure their next gambit succeeds."
"They will try harder to get Potter into this blasted tournament." Severus caught onto Moody's point immediately. He pinched the brow of his nose.
Albus slumped back in his chair. "Alas, I had not thought of it in those terms."
"Which is why I'll say again that we should cancel the damn thing." Moody said firmly.
Albus shook his head. "It's not possible, Alastor. We shall just have to be vigilant." He smiled at Moody as he said the last and Moody gave an amused huff. "Sirius has requested permission to continue Harry's duelling tutoring while he is here at Hogwarts. He has offered to open up the sessions to the entire fourth year so there can be no suggestion of special treatment."
Severus harrumphed.
"It'd be a good idea to run a duelling club for the other years since Hilliard will be running the elective for fourth years only." Moody suggested. "Hilliard himself could take the sixth and seventh years, I could do the fifth, Sirius and Remus the fourth, and Filius the lower years."
"A wonderful idea!" Albus beamed at Moody. "I'll make the request to Filius and Tobias." He glanced at Severus. "Perhaps you could also lend a hand, Severus?"
"Perhaps." Severus said non-committedly. He had no interest in the duelling club. He had only participated previously because he'd wanted to put Lockhart in his place.
"Well, I think that's all for tonight, gentlemen." Albus said, rising.
Moody and Severus made their way out of the office and down the spiral staircase.
"Drink?" offered Moody.
Severus nodded, understanding that it was a request to talk without Albus's presence.
They went to the staff room – their mutually acknowledged neutral ground. Severus was pleased to see it empty. They sat in the small seating area where they had first talked and Moody poured them both a glass from his flask while Severus erected a privacy bubble.
"Have you made any progress on your memory issue?" Moody asked bluntly.
Severus shook his head. "I have isolated the affected memories but nothing beyond that." It was slow work. The block was a good one – excellent in fact. He would admire Bella's handiwork if it wasn't for the fact that it was his memory she had played with. He gazed at Moody, his eyes sweeping over the magical counterpart. "I don't suppose…"
"Nope," Moody said succinctly, tossing back his drink, "leglimency has been out for me since I lost the eye. You need two good 'uns as you very well know." He gazed at Severus thoughtfully. "You could ask Albus."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Would you want him rooting around in your head?"
Moody gave a short barking laugh and conceded the point. "How about a Healer? I know someone who works on the Memory ward at St Mungo's."
He did actually consider the offer but regretfully shook his head. He wouldn't wish his mind on anyone. "I shall endeavour to continue with my own efforts."
"And if the answer to who is hiding You-Know-Who is buried in there?" Moody said with incisive insight. "The LeStranges covered up Crouch's involvement with them. Perhaps what you saw was some other bugger."
It was a possibility.
Bella and Rodolphus had a good working partnership as a couple but he didn't think that they'd shared a bedroom the entire time Severus had stayed with them. It was entirely possible that just as Rabastan had taken Crouch Junior as a lover, Bella or Rodolphus themselves had a surprising paramour hidden in the closet – one like Crouch that the Dark Lord himself had marked and approved of as a liaison.
"If Potter is entered into the tournament and I have not removed the block by then, I will request assistance." Severus compromised.
Moody grunted but seemed satisfied with the answer. "Let's hope our security can keep Potter out."
Severus nodded but he wouldn't put it past the brat to enter himself.
Filius wandered into the staff room and smiled at them both. "Goodness, I thought I was the only one about this evening. Everyone else seems to have deserted the place."
Severus hurriedly took down the privacy bubble.
"Have you spoken with Minnie?" asked Moody, shifting forward to welcome Filius into the seating area with a wave of his hand.
Filius nodded. "I've had an owl. She was released into the care of the House of Potter. She says she'll be fully recovered and back on Sunday to deal with the final preparations for the new school year." He sat down with a small sigh and accepted Moody's offer of a drink (a small silent wiggle of his flask) with a nod. "She says she needs duelling practice."
Moody smiled as he poured Filius his drink. "There's a duelling club proposed."
Severus knocked back the last of his drink, set his glass down and stood up. He had no wish to listen to Filius and Moody discuss a duelling club nor to get pulled into any commitment to help. "I believe I will retire for the night." He inclined his head, allowing his dark hair to fall forward before turning abruptly and striding out, aware his robes were billowing behind him.
The walk to the dungeons was long and his thoughts revolved around the attack on Potter. He was furious with Potter all over again by the time he entered his private quarters. He made for the bedroom and sitting on the bed, opened the top drawer of his bedside table and took out a photo. It was a rare photo that he had of Lily and himself as children before Hogwarts, before everything had been ruined by Potter Senior. It was a muggle one Lily's mother had snapped with a Polaroid camera and handed to him right there and then.
"I'm trying to keep him safe, Lily." Severus whispered to the photo, stroking a finger over her innocent features. "But your son doesn't make it easy. He has far too much of Potter in him and far too little of you."
What had the brat been thinking? Going off to rescue the Weasleys? Charging after his attacker into the woods? No doubt he wanted further glory and praise for his heroics.
Or he had no sense of self-worth which was more likely given his appalling upbringing with Petunia.
Well, he would keep Potter safe despite the brat's lack of self-preservation. He would do it because Potter was needed to vanquish the Dark Lord so Lily could be avenged. Potter owed his mother that much for her sacrifice; for causing her death. And as much as he hated Potter's presence within the castle, it would be easier for Severus to protect him once Potter was back at Hogwarts.
Severus sighed and put the photo away, closing the drawer on his memories and his melancholy.
o-O-o
Dennis Travers had been sixteen years old when he'd taken the Dark Mark. He'd gone along with his father and his uncles. His family had little status but they were comfortable financially thanks to good investments and his grandfather's broom charms patent that had been bought by Nimbus. His father had worked in the Department of Magical Transportation until his incarceration in Azkaban in 'eighty-one. He could still remember the night the Aurors had come for his Dad…
Rain battered down on the roof, filling the living room with a thunderous pitter-patter. The room had been lit with oil lamps casting a gloomy orange light and strange shadows against the walls. A fierce blaze had filled the fireplace, warming the room. His mother, a slim pretty woman, sat beside the Wizarding Wireless, knitting as was her wont when she was anxious. He and his father had been playing cards on a small felt table; twenty year old Dennis was winning.
"I wish you'd shut that thing off." His Dad said brusquely. "It's been nothing but bloody gossipy nonsense since Halloween."
"Igor was scheduled to appear before the Council of Magical Law today." His Mum replied sharply.
His Dad glanced over at her. "There's nothing to worry about it. Igor's sentencing will be a straightforward affair. They have more than enough evidence to convict him."
"And if he gives you up for a lighter sentence?" His mother asked pointedly.
"I would have heard something at the Ministry before I left if anything had been said." His Dad said dismissively.
"I don't trust him." His mother said. "Foreign muck; we can't trust him to remain faithful. Antonin is not much better either, fleeing abroad like he has done."
His Dad rolled his eyes and winked at Dennis. "We'll be fine, Mabel. You're getting yourself worried for…" he froze and suddenly his wand was in his hand. "The wards! They're under attack!"
His mother stood, dropping her knitting and wrapping her arms around herself. "I told you! I told you that Russian bastard wasn't to be trusted!"
"Travers!" Alastor Moody's gruff tone sounded loudly from outside. "We know you're in there! Leave your wand and come out with your hands visible!"
"What are we going to do?" His mother wailed.
His Dad's lips firmed and he swung towards Dennis. "Forgive me, son. Imperius!"
It had all gotten blurry after that. Dennis had woken up in a small ward at St Mungo's with his mother sat beside him. She had told him that his father and she had protected him; the Aurors believed that Dennis had been imperiused into taking the Mark by his father and she had been coerced by the threat of physical violence. The truth was that Karkaroff had betrayed them; he'd given up Dennis's father for the murders of the blood traitors, the McKinnons. His father would be going to Azkaban.
And so it had happened. Luckily, his uncles had stepped in and taken care of his mother and himself, ensuring that they had a home and that Dennis's place in the Ministry was safe. He'd continued in the Department of Transportation, following in his father's footsteps, honouring the man who had protected him.
But now…now Dennis would be going to Azkaban himself. He wasn't bothered so much by that; he stood by the Dark Lord and he wouldn't deny him to save his own skin. No, he was more bothered about his stupidity in allowing himself to be captured.
He stared up at the ceiling of his Ministry cell and contemplated how very wrong the mission had gone. It had been idiotic in hindsight to continue when the stadium fire had happened. He should have realised that it would draw more Aurors to the campsite. Travers had also been hampered because he'd had to imperius Rowle who'd gotten cold feet – stupid bastard – otherwise he would have gotten away.
He frowned and rubbed his nose.
Dennis hadn't exactly had a chance to read the Prophet since he'd been placed in his cell but he'd heard the Aurors talking and it looked like the small operation he and his team had put together had somehow run amok of the rogue who'd made death threats against Potter.
He scowled.
It was supposed to have been his night, his opportunity to remind everyone of the Dark Lord, to remember and fear, to prove to the Dark Lord that he was not forgotten and that there were those who upheld his ideals and welcomed his return.
The pillock who'd attacked Potter had ruined everything.
But he'd heard his guards exchanging gossip and the theory was that the rogue had been acting in concert with Pettigrew since the Rat Squad had been there. Travers considered that in the quiet of his cell. If the idiot who'd spoiled his party had been working in concert with Pettigrew, did that mean he was working under the orders of the Dark Lord himself? And if he was, had his own operation interfered with the Dark Lord's? Messed it up? Potter had stumbled into MacNair and Jugson according to the chatter.
The thought had him tense with anxiety. He remembered the meetings his Dad had taken him to and the screams of those who had failed in the Dark Lord's service as they received their punishment.
Well.
If he cocked up and the Dark Lord punished him, that was fair enough. Hadn't Lucius warned them all that interfering ahead of the Dark Lord himself contacting them could lead to this? Travers had simply wanted to show his Lord that he still followed him but he would acknowledge his mistake and take his lumps.
A pop signalled the entry of a house elf with his supper – a bland affair of watery broth and some stale bread bun that had seen better days. The elf placed it on the floor and popped out again.
Travers sighed and fetched it. He took off the warming lid and sniffed suspiciously at the broth. He opened up the paper napkin to unwrap the plastic spoon and froze; there was writing on the napkin.
He carefully looked around his cell. There was nothing in the tiny room that suggested he was under a surveillance charm. The cot was standard issue; the magic bedpan stuffed under it just the same. The door was solid and locked with only a viewing hole that was accessible from the other side. He'd been stripped of his robes and given a grey set of trousers and top to wear in a scratchy material.
He carefully unravelled the napkin and made to place it on his lap as though it had no value. He glanced down as he spooned up his broth and read the words.
"Your attempt at pleasing the Dark Lord was pitiful but your silence and faithfulness are recognised. Remain strong and take heart for you will soon return to his side."
Dennis managed to control his expression but deep inside, he was smiling with what he believed was justified satisfaction. The Dark Lord wasn't angry with him; he'd been noticed for his faithfulness. He scooped up some more of the tasteless soup and hid his grin.
He would do as the note said; he would remain strong even if it meant going to Azkaban like his father. In time, he would be rewarded and he would have more power than Lucius Malfoy could shake his cane at.
The broth was soon gone. When the house elf came back for the tray, the napkin was shredded like confetti into the bowl, and Dennis was asleep and dreaming of serving at the Dark Lord's side.
o-O-o
Harry sat on the wooden picnic table and gazed out into the back garden of Griffin House. It was a cool day for the end of August – rainy more than sunny, overcast and grim. It suited his mood. Hedwig swooped down and he automatically held out his arm to her. She landed in a rush of wind from the backwash of her wings. Harry leaned forward and let her nuzzle him, welcoming the comfort. He couldn't wait to fly with her as a raven; couldn't wait for the freedom of his own wings…
Hedwig gave a bark.
"Sorry, Hedwig," Harry said softly and reached into his pocket where he kept a few owl treats. "I guess I'm a little distracted. Sirius showed me his grandfather's memories today."
Sirius had confessed that he'd delayed showing Harry the memories – once because of Simeon's visit and again because he'd wanted them to enjoy their last weekend before Harry went back to Hogwarts together especially after the World Cup shenanigans. Harry understood. Having seen the memories, he knew how painful they were for Sirius and what the implications for himself were given the last memory with Ollivander.
Frankly, the wand maker freaked Harry out. But the knowledge that the old wizard had of his craft had been impressive. The story of the family magic and the Hallows had entranced Harry. The story of the family magic connected with something inside of him; something that told him it was the truth.
He remembered the warmth he'd felt in calling the Longbottom bear. Sirius had cautioned him that they didn't know if the magic had responded because of Neville's fealty but Harry didn't think so. He had simply and instinctively reached for and found the bear there waiting for him along with the surety that the steadfastness and ferocity of the beast had been his to call upon. The problem was that he had no idea how to deliberately call upon all family magic and he had a feeling that it couldn't be done without the circumstances being rather dire.
He sighed. "What do you think, Hedwig? Do you think I could call all the family magic to defeat him?"
And what of the consequences? Merlin had called the magic and disappeared afterwards. Was that the price for using it? Giving his own life? But didn't it make sense that it would incur such a cost? If he called all family magic and used it to wipe Voldemort from the face of the wizarding world, wouldn't he consider his magic and his life to be fair payment?
He shivered.
Hedwig barked and nuzzled him again.
Perhaps he didn't need to go so far…perhaps he only needed to call upon his own family magic to assist him as presumably the Peverells had done in the defeat of the Dark Wizard Severn. His ancestors must have brilliant men to have invented the Hallows. Would they be disappointed in him? Maybe they might have been before the Summer, Harry thought honestly, in the same way he believed his parents would probably have been disappointed with him – for not trying his best and being lazy. Maybe he would invent something as brilliant as the invisibility cloak for his descendants.
Maybe.
Of course he had no idea what he could invent that would help him defeat Voldemort and as for the Hallows themselves…
He stroked Hedwig's feathers. "I don't know what to do, Hedwig. The Headmaster is still keeping secrets."
It hurt.
He had thought Dumbledore sincere in his apology at the beginning of the Summer. He had thought Dumbledore had been sincere in his offer to help Harry…
The Headmaster clearly had some knowledge of the power of the Hallows since he'd recognised the Resurrection Stone, had presumably looked over the cloak whilst it had been in his possession, and he held the Elder wand. Hadn't it ever occurred to the Headmaster that they were 'the power he knows not' alluded to in the prophecy? It seemed incomprehensible to Harry that Dumbledore wouldn't consider that the Hallows could be a possibility. And so, if he had an inkling they could be the power, why hadn't Dumbledore said anything? To Sirius if not to Harry?
He took a deep breath and tried to think of all the lessons Sirius had given him regarding motivations.
What was Dumbledore's motivation in keeping the secret?
The first answer was easy: Dumbledore wanted to keep the wand out of Voldemort's hands. Harry could understand that, and he even agreed with it.
The second motivation was probably related to Harry's protection and the sentimental thinking Dumbledore had always had about giving Harry a normal childhood.
Harry snorted and received a chiding look from Hedwig.
Dumbledore had failed on every level to give Harry a normal childhood. As he had said to Neville, he had forgiven Dumbledore for placing him with the Dursleys but he would never forget it. He was prepared to admit at last that not only had his treatment there been horrid to endure, it had been abusive and abnormal. If taking the Dursleys to court wouldn't turn into a press circus, Harry might have been willing to see justice done.
After Voldemort and as soon as he turned seventeen, Harry promised himself. He'd buy Grunnings, fire Vernon and find a way to evict Petunia from her dream house. He didn't want any of them dead so they could remain in the house until Voldemort was dealt with but after that…all bets were off.
There was a small part of him that argued against it, pointing out that didn't he owe them for taking him in at least, but when he remembered how grudgingly he'd been housed, fed and clothed, Harry had to admit that it wasn't right that the Dursleys never had to face up to their actions in regards to what they'd done to him.
A large part of him still wanted to ignore it; to focus on the present and future and forget his past with his hateful relatives.
Harry sighed as Hedwig shuffled over to his shoulder and began to preen his hair. He had been thinking about Dumbledore's motivations about the wand not the Dursleys, he reminded himself.
So, Dumbledore had kept the secret to protect the wand from Voldemort and to continue to protect Harry from the responsibility of it. That made sense. But for Dumbledore not to have simply told Sirius that he had the wand when the subject had come up over the stone…
It was possible that Dumbledore also felt the wand was his by rights regardless of Harry's ancestral claim upon it. And Sirius and Remus had both confirmed after they'd exited the memory that under the law, Dumbledore could claim he had won the wand fairly after defeating Grindelwald. Legally, it was all very grey and could go either way if Harry ever took it to court.
And it was all too possible that this was another of the Headmaster's manipulations; that Dumbledore intended to reveal the secret but only when he wanted to reveal the secret – when Dumbledore deemed it was right and necessary for the secret to be known.
Harry scowled and Hedwig tugged on his hair.
"Ow!" He turned to glare at her and she glared right back. "It's just…why can't he be straightforward and honest?"
Hedwig barked her agreement.
It was what he hated about politics and strategy in general; the constant need to determine who needed information, what information could be used to gain leverage and advantage. If everybody was just honest with each other…possibly there would be a bloodbath but at the end of it everybody would know where they stood.
Harry sighed.
What to do about Dumbledore?
Sirius had suggested they could confront him, ask him about the wand. But what good would it do really? Because Harry had no problems Dumbledore holding onto the wand. He didn't want it. Putting it in the family vault was an option but Voldemort had already proven that he wasn't scared to attempt a break-in at Gringotts with the Philosopher's stone.
No, Dumbledore was right that it was better he kept hold of it.
But what if Harry holding all three Hallows was the important thing? What if Harry needed the Elder wand to discover some unknown power (although he really didn't want to be known as the Master of Death)?
He wished the prophecy hadn't been so woolly. He wished that it had actually specified in great detail just what the power was that he had that Voldemort didn't. But, of course, he couldn't be that lucky. And he needed to do better than he had at the World Cup. He knew he'd let his anger rule him and he couldn't afford that. He needed to be sensible; responsible. He grimaced and pushed his glasses up his nose.
Dobby popped onto the grass in front of him. "It bes about to rain, Harry Potter, sir."
Harry nodded. Dobby was incredibly good at predicting the weather.
"Something troubles Harry Potter?" Dobby asked worriedly.
"Just…thinking, Dobby." Harry assured the house elf.
Dobby pulled on his ear. "Perhaps Dobby can offer advice like Master Yoda?"
Harry smiled. Dobby loved the original Star Wars trilogy. "What advice would you give me then, Dobby?"
"Named your fear must be before banish it you can." Dobby said promptly.
"You may have a point." Harry mused. What was his fear? He was afraid that he'd never find the power to defeat Voldemort. He was scared of losing the people he loved like he had lost his parents. He was worried that the Headmaster's habit of keeping secrets would lead to both those things. It wasn't the wand that was the issue; it was the keeping secrets that the Headmaster needed to be faced with.
"Thanks, Dobby."
Dobby's ears flapped with pleasure. "Dobby will be making Harry Potter some hot chocolate."
Harry got the message; he should go inside. He sent Hedwig aloft and made his way back into the house. He knew Sirius had probably been watching him from the study and he made his way there.
Both Sirius and Remus sat at their respective desks. Both of them looked up when Harry knocked softly on the open door.
"Hey."
Harry saw the lines of worry bracketing Sirius's eyes and berated himself for rushing off after seeing the memories. "Hey. Can I talk to you?"
"Always." Sirius pointed at the comfy visitor's chair and Harry hurried over to it. "I take it you've thought about the issue of the wand?"
Harry nodded. Dobby popped in, handed him a mug of chocolate and popped away again.
Remus looked enviously at the mug before gesturing impatiently at Harry. "And?"
"I think the wand is safest with Professor Dumbledore until we know more about the power the Hallows are supposed to have and how bringing them together is supposed to help defeat a Dark Lord if at all." Harry began. "The Headmaster's had it for years so I don't see the point of him giving it to me and arguably it is his wand legally anyway."
Remus and Sirius exchanged a quick look between them and Remus looked smug. Harry's eyes narrowed; had they bet on his reaction?
"That's a well thought out position." Remus praised him, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair.
"Well, the wand isn't really the problem, is it?" pointed out Harry.
Remus frowned. "It's not?"
Harry shook his head and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "Professor Dumbledore's keeping secrets again. Well, not again so much as he's continued keeping secrets even when he said he wouldn't. He must know that the Hallows could be the power referred to in the prophecy." He sighed heavily. "I'm just tired of him making decisions about what he thinks I should and shouldn't know about things that are directly related to me. And if he's keeping this a secret, what else is he keeping secret?"
Sirius threw Remus a triumphant look before his eyes met Harry's. "What do you want to do?"
"Unfortunately, I think someone needs to confront him." Harry said. "But I don't know if it should be me, or you, or both of us."
"There is strength in numbers." Remus said immediately. "I don't think you should talk with him alone at any rate, Harry."
"Neither do I." Sirius agreed.
Harry fidgeted with the mug in his hand, stroking the rim idly. "I think maybe you should talk with him without me."
Sirius raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"I don't think having a row with him just before I go back to school is a good idea." Harry admitted.
"I can see your point." Sirius said evenly. "And I assume you'd like me to wait until you're settled in for a couple of weeks before I have the discussion with him?"
"Don't deny that you'd more than likely use the threat of Harry not returning if you did it sooner, Sirius." Remus said.
Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Besides," Harry said brightly, "you can say more without me there and…and be more direct about what you say."
"True." Remus agreed.
"You agree with him?" Sirius asked Remus bluntly.
"I do," Remus said simply. "Harry's right. The wand isn't the issue per se but that he's withholding information – information that could be vital in our defeating Voldemort. When you think about it the wand is not the only thing he hasn't confided. He might have told you there is a prophecy but he hasn't offered you the details and you're Harry's father now – he should have told you. Maybe he's assumed you've gone to the DOM to hear it, maybe not. You're also the one he lied directly to about the wand whereas his not informing Harry could be seen as a lie of omission. You're the leader of the War Council; you're the leader of the political faction most likely to take full control of the Wizengamot in the next session. You're the one who should face him with this."
"What he said." Harry motioned with his mug towards Remus.
Sirius nodded and raised his hands in surrender. "I guess I volunteer?"
"Well done, Padfoot." Remus said dryly.
Harry gave a chuckle at the incensed look on Sirius's face and figured a prank war would break out as soon as he left for school.
"What about the rest of what was in the memories?" Sirius asked, turning his attention back to Harry. "Are you OK with everything?"
He gave a shrug with a brief lift of one shoulder. "I guess the stuff on the family magic and the Hallows is interesting? But I just have more questions really."
"We need to track down the Lumiere source Ollivander spoke about." Remus agreed. "I have another couple of places to try before I approach Ollivander himself."
"I think the family magic thing is right?" Harry offered uncertain how they'd respond. "It feels right."
"Feels right?" Remus's keen gaze scoured Harry's face.
Harry nodded. "I can't really explain it more than that." He sighed and rubbed his temple. "But I don't know how I could call all the family magic, I just feel like I could, but I…" he trailed away unsure how to explain further.
"But?" prompted Sirius gently.
"But I don't think there would be a way to use it without paying a price." Harry said eventually, unable to think of another way of phrasing it.
Sirius stilled; his entire being freezing in one position that was so unlike him that Harry took a sharp intake of breath that he only released when Sirius started moving again by lurching to his feet.
"A sacrifice of life and magic." Remus said out loud, sounding stunned. "I can't believe we didn't think of it."
"Well, that definitely rules the family magic out as a possibility." Sirius stated firmly, whirling around to point at Harry. "You are not sacrificing your life and magic until you're very, very old, and grey, and wrinkly."
Remus nodded absently. "So we focus on the Hallows." His eyes narrowed. "You know that might make more sense when you consider Morgana's words to you at the blessing. She did say something about you mastering Death."
Harry pressed his lips together. He appreciated the sentiment, felt warmed by the love and care of both his new father and honorary uncle, their want to keep him alive and safe. But just as he knew deep in his bones that somehow it would come down to him and Voldemort in the end, he knew there would be a price – a balance to be kept. Even the Hallows suggested that magic, or rather Death in the story, had exacted a price from each of the Peverells eventually.
"All of which means I really do need to speak to Albus." Sirius slumped back into his chair and regarded Harry with mischievous grey eyes. "And there's nothing I can do to convince you that I should do that before you go back to school?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
Remus sighed heavily at Sirius's antics. "Are you going to be alright with the Headmaster?"
"I think so," Harry said, "I'm not really angry with him just disappointed. I don't think…I can't trust him to be upfront with me and that's sad."
Sirius nodded sharply. "Do you have any other questions about the memories?"
Harry began to shake his head but stopped and frowned. "What happened to that woman who gave up your cover?"
"Kelp?" Sirius raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I don't honestly know. I don't think she's still with the department."
"I looked her up after I saw the memory. She was held overnight for her part in what happened but was released from holding the day after. She got a note of censure in her file for not following protocol and endangering a fellow officer who was the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House and a son of another. It most certainly would have hampered her future career. She got married in November nineteen-eighty to a muggleborn and they moved to the States ostensibly to get away from the war." Remus offered.
"She didn't get charged?" Harry asked, angry. She'd almost gotten Sirius killed!
"It was war-time, Harry." Sirius said mildly. "We tried not to put our own side in jail if we could help it. But her marriage and departure explains why she wasn't around when I went back to work as a Hit Wizard in the January of 'eighty-one." He must have caught the curiosity in Harry's eyes. "Most of my injuries had healed by the time you were born but I had months of physical therapy because of the spinal injury that affected my walking. I could have gone back to desk duty in the October but Charlus, your grandfather, was sick and then in December he passed away and your Dad needed me."
"That was when Dad resigned as a Hit Wizard?" clarified Harry, remembering the memory with his mother and Arcturus at Christmas.
"Yeah, he had the Potter estates to manage and truthfully, he was hit hard by the loss of your Granddad." Sirius said.
Harry sipped his chocolate as he took in the grief in Sirius's eyes and he remembered his Mum had said Sirius had taken Charlus's death just as hard.
"What about you, Padfoot?" asked Harry quietly. "How are you after seeing the memories?"
He didn't notice that Remus beamed proudly at him for his compassion and caring.
"It was weird the first time." Sirius admitted. "I never realised my…that Grandfather honestly…cared for me. I'm very glad he was there for Lily and, despite his appalling decision not to get you away from the Dursleys, I appreciate all his work to help us as much as he could."
Harry thought Sirius might have just been reassuring him, but Sirius's eyes remained calm and there was a peace that glimmered there for a moment, suggesting that his words were more than bravado.
Healer Allen was very good, Harry mused silently.
"By the way, we received a message from Amelia." Sirius said, changing the subject in a blunt manner that had Remus sighing. "Since some of the evidence is sensitive and will give away Tag the Death Eater, they've decided on a tribunal approach for the Death Eaters who were caught. Albus will sit as the principal judge, to be joined by two members of the Wizengamot. The Wizengamot members are being solicited for nominations. The tribunals will take place on the Friday after the Wizengamot session on the Thursday."
"Who are we nominating?" asked Harry, interested. The u-turn he'd made about his view on politics from the start of the Summer was remarkable, he mused to himself, but he was pleased because Sirius was delighted with his response if the grin on his face was anything to go by.
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "Good question as I was going to discuss it with you. My first nomination would be for Gideon Baron. He's new to the Wizengamot, not entrenched in the alliances, neutral pretty much."
"And his legal background will be invaluable." Remus commented.
"Exactly." Sirius picked up a quill and started playing with it. "The problem comes with the second nomination; someone from the Potter alliance would be the obvious choice."
"Isn't there a conflict of interest?" Harry questioned, chewing his lip.
"There's nothing linking the Death Eaters that were caught with the attack on the tent." Sirius explained.
"But for appearances' sake, it would probably be better to have someone not directly affected by any of the attacks, even if it's not completely necessary." Remus answered.
"So we're looking for someone outside of the alliance but sympathetic?" Harry sighed, scratching his forehead.
Sirius shifted in his seat and pointed the quill at Harry. "Daniel Greengrass would be our best option. While we will be announcing the Potter and Greengrass alliance at the next Wizengamot, it's pretty much an open secret among the Ancient and Noble Houses so everyone knows. He's staunchly neutral and has a reputation for fairness." He explained. "The other option is Nora Zabini but frankly…"
"Her reputation has more to do with husbands than politics." Remus said dryly. "She'd be a wasted nomination."
Harry felt his lips twitch but nodded in agreement. "I guess our vote goes to Dan then? He was the nicest of that neutral bunch."
Sirius nodded. "I thought that you had more of a connection with him than the others."
"He seemed genuinely interested in me rather than giving lip service." Harry said, remembering the dinner they'd had with Dan and the other neutral Heads of Houses. "He also asked me about my agenda rather than asking you."
"He did," Sirius said, waving the quill about, "which got brownie points with me too."
"So, Baron and Greengrass it is then." Remus said.
"Are we communicating our choice to anyone?" Harry checked. Neville would probably owl him about the nominations.
Sirius smiled. "Augusta has already requested a brief meeting of the Potter alliance tomorrow morning to discuss options. I have a feeling most of them will also choose Gideon but there will be variation on the second choice." He paused and set the quill down. "I'm going to owl Malfoy and tell him I would hope one of his choices is Baron. I'll leave the other to his discretion. I suspect Malfoy will pick up quite a few votes himself – most of the purebloods are likely to ignore the fact that Narcissa was in the tent."
Harry grimaced but said nothing. He and Draco had managed to maintain their trust for the week and he hoped it would continue at Hogwarts but he would never like Draco or his father. Narcissa was alright but she was better when she was with Andy as though her sister enabled her to be freer and show more of her personality.
"Are you all prepared for school?" asked Remus.
Harry gave him a grateful smile. "Yeah, just have to get packed." Sirius had gone to Diagon Alley to do his school shopping after they had said goodbye to Simeon, Anna and Jason. Sirius had suggested that the following Summer they'd go to Australia and visit them which Harry thought sounded fantastic.
Sirius peered at him with concern. "You don't sound all that enthusiastic."
"Just…" he shrugged and set his mug aside, "it feels like a long time since I was at Hogwarts since we had the time in the States too, and…" he felt the heat of a blush across his cheeks, "well, I've never really had something…family that I minded leaving behind before." He figured he was about the shade of a ripe tomato.
Sirius grinned at him though, and his look of delight made Harry's minor embarrassment more than worth it. "We'll miss you too."
"We'll be seeing Harry every Wednesday evening." Remus said amused.
"It's not the same." Sirius and Harry said in concert.
They both looked at each other and laughed.
Sirius gestured at him. "It is going to be weird seeing you only once a week but once you're back at Hogwarts you'll remember why you wanted to go back and you'll be fine." He smirked suddenly. "You know we should get your new Marauder name sorted before you go back."
Harry cringed and shrank back into the armchair. "Please!" He said dramatically. "Not this again!" Sirius had spent all of Sunday tossing names at him. All of which he'd turned down.
"I don't know what's wrong with Bran…" Remus teased, stretching and looking far too pleased with himself.
"Or Edgar!" Sirius jumped in. "I really liked Edgar! Or Poe!"
"Canute was also a good one…" Remus continued, ignoring Harry's pointed look to discontinue or suffer the consequences.
"Huginn and Muninn…"
"Yaahal…" Remus added. "But leaving mythology behind, you could choose something to do with the attributes of your form."
"Feathers!" Sirius cried triumphantly.
Harry glowered at him.
"Beaky!" Remus suggested brightly.
"Claws?" Sirius mused out loud and shook his head. "Wings is too generic…"
"Snitch," said Harry firmly. "I'm calling my raven form 'Snitch.'"
He had already decided but had held off telling them just to torture them for a while. He had named all his forms; the stallion he had called 'Lord PB' because it represented his future, the Head of House and leader he would become. The lion and the snake were called Gryff and Sly respectively for obvious reasons. He'd tried very hard to find another name for the wolf cub but the one that stuck in his mind was 'Freak' because of the cub's representation of his orphaned self who was so desperate for a family because he'd been denied a home with love by the Dursleys. The bouncy puppy, on the other hand, was and always would be 'Pronglet' as it represented his baby self who would always be the son of Prongs, and of Padfoot since it was Padfoot's form it imitated. But 'Snitch' fitted his raven form – at least he thought so.
Sirius was outraged. "It's a piece of Quidditch equipment!"
"No, Padfoot," Remus said, staring at Harry with renewed pride, "it's perfect. What is the Snitch but a very fast flying entity whose sole purpose is to remain free, tricking its pursuers and defending itself with speed and skill. It's just like a raven which is a free spirited bird that refuses to be caught and uses every trick to fight and live."
Harry started smiling. Remus got it, he thought proudly.
"When the Snitch is caught, the game is over," Remus continued thoughtfully, "and in mythology if ravens were to leave the British Isles, the kingdom would fall. It's a lovely analogy, Harry."
"Thank you, Moony." Harry said delighted Remus approved of the name. He turned back to Sirius a little anxious about his father's reaction.
Sirius heaved a sigh and nodded, but his grey eyes were bright and mischievous. "Snitch it is then." He wagged a finger at Harry. "But if you call my first grandchild Quaffle I will never forgive you."
"How about Bludger or Broomstick?" asked Harry cheekily.
Sirius tossed a cushion at him as Harry laughed.
"I don't know, Padfoot," Remus joked, "Bludger Potter-Black has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He avoided the quill Sirius threw at him and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going for a shower and a change of clothes before dinner. I'll leave you two to it." He escaped through the door as both Harry and Sirius sent a barrage of cushions his way.
Sirius shook his head at their dismal aim before he shifted to look at Harry with an intent expression. "In all seriousness though, are you going to be OK going back to Hogwarts?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I am looking forward to it in some ways, it's just…" he took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, "it's been the best Summer and I think a part of me is worried that when I go back to Hogwarts, I'm going to wake up and find it's been a dream or something…" he gave a self-deprecating chuckle and dropped his gaze, "stupid, I know."
"Not stupid." Sirius assured him. "I have to pinch myself some days." He fidgeted for a moment before turning to his desk. "Maybe this will help. It's a present. I was going to wait and give it to you on September 1st but…" He opened a drawer and reached inside to pull out something wrapped in brown paper. "This is your Dad's old communication mirror."
Harry couldn't stop the grin that split his face in two. He pushed out of his chair and took the gift. He held it reverently with one hand gripping it firmly while the other played over the edges as though to confirm it was real. He remembered Sirius telling him about the mirrors in the early days of their stay in the States when they'd exchanged tales of their school years.
"You just have to tap it with your wand and call my name – or rather 'Padfoot'. You can talk to me whenever you want." Sirius's voice was thick with emotion. "I probably should change your mirror to respond to 'Snitch' rather than 'Pronglet' thinking about it."
"No…" Harry said, trying to keep a hold of the swell of love that was bubbling up inside of him, "maybe 'Pronglet' can be your way of calling me son, like we agreed 'Padfoot' is my way of calling you 'Dad.'"
Sirius pulled him into a fierce hug. "I'd like that."
Harry held onto his godfather, his father, and bit his lips as the words he so wanted to say, hovered at the back of his throat and the front of his mind.
"I love you, Padfoot."
But he couldn't quite say them.
He wasn't ready. He wasn't sure why he wasn't ready but he knew he wasn't. He knew Sirius knewthat he loved him just as he knew Sirius loved him.
It was only words, Harry thought defensively, but as Sirius patted his back and let him go with a push towards the door and a brisk instruction to go change for dinner that belied the storm of emotion in his grey eyes, Harry made a silent promise.
One day, Harry thought determinedly; one day soon he'd say the words.