Murder on the Hogwarts Ex
DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you’ve seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$
A/N: Okay, sports distraction’s over. So, as it’s been two weeks:…
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:
“ MURDER” ON THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS
SATURDAY, AUGUST 28 th , 1993.
Molly Weasley had missed her daughter terribly all summer. Because of the oath she and her husband swore they could barely talk about what had truly happened. To their sons Ginny was with a Mind Healer because of what had happened to her over the school year, but she and Arthur knew the truth. Ginny was no longer theirs. She was now a Potter and a concubine and it was their fault in the end that it had come to this even if they could not remember what had happened when their daughter was just a baby. Molly would like nothing more than to let Albus Dumbledore know what she really thought about him and his ideas. She was sure Arthur wanted the same. But Arthur was Dumbledore’s Vassal, a status he had inherited from his father who had placed the family in Vassalage during the last war and therefore incapable of such things. Her brothers had been the man’s Vassals as well, but she was not or at least she was not independent of her marriage to a Vassal. Still, she was not about to make a scene if it might harm her or her family. All summer long she had hoped Harry would let their girl visit them but deep down thought that might not happen. That contract must have seem to the boy to be the worst of betrayals and she could not fault him if he still held a grudge.
Then Ginny was there! Her little girl was home sitting in the kitchen eating a sandwich! Molly tried not to make too much of a fuss over it knowing that Ginny never had liked being fussed over. It was hard, especially after a summer of wondering whether Harry would keep his word about the visit. He was under no obligation to do so. But he had and Molly was delighted that Ginny would be home with her first family for the rest of the Summer Holiday.
During a brief moment alone with her daughter that first day, Ginny had suggested they might be able to spend some time seeing where she was staying. She said that Harry had extended an invitation to them, but not to her brothers. They were still keeping things quiet. Molly couldn’t blame them. A man who would do what Dumbledore had done and wanted to do could not be trusted. She agreed on behalf of Arthur and herself. She was surprised that Ginny said they would leave from her bedroom at the Burrow on Saturday morning at around ten. They would be gone only a couple of hours, but Molly decided it best not to let her boys know this. She was certain Ron would try and skive off his assignments and she was determined to catch him at it. She couldn’t be too obvious about this which was one of the reasons why she had put Percy in charge. The other was she was still disappointed with the Head Boy.
Percy was the oldest of her children at school. As such, she expected him to keep an eye on his younger brothers and sister and it was obvious he had not. She had confronted him about it the day after they had returned from school and all he had were excuses. He felt Fred and George would do that. He had not noticed anything off - odd that considering his three younger brothers had. They missed what was really going on, but they noticed their sister was not herself and tried in their own way to help. He was a Prefect, he had responsibilities. And his sister was a Gryffindor! She was one of his charges and he failed her. How many other Gryffindors had he failed that year? Did he honestly think all he had to do as a Prefect was strut around and act important? She was so angry with him she had said nothing about his becoming Head Boy and had not even scolded the twins about what they did to his badge. She wished they would not pick on their brother like that, but deep down she admitted this time they had a point.
She and Arthur now stood in Ginny’s room. It looked barren, just as it had looked from the moment they had returned from Gringotts. Aside from her clothes and a few other things, all that said this was their daughter’s room had disappeared. But their daughter now stood before them although Molly noticed that the bed had been made. Ginny rarely made her bed without being told to which told Molly that it was entirely possible the girl was not sleeping here but not where she was spending the night nor how she got there.
“I need a drop of each of your blood,” Ginny said holding a needle.
“Why?” Molly asked.
“Sounds a little… dodgy,” Arthur agreed.
“I don’t understand all the details,” Ginny said. “I’ve learned quite a bit this summer, but ward schemes are still above me and the others. Harry seems to understand the most, but not the details. The wards we must pass through are complex. The main wards are Goblin made. They hold all the other wards together and it’s those Goblin wards that control access. As you know…”
“Blood,” Arthur nodded. “They’re into it. Very well, Princess.”
As her parents pricked their fingers and allowed the needle to absorb a drop of their blood, Ginny said: “As you should know, blood can’t be faked. There’s no magic that can trick these wards which means… well, we’re really safe if we need to be.”
“How are we going to get there?” Molly asked handing Ginny the needle.
“Through this,” Ginny said as she seemed to shove the pin into the lock on the trunk at the foot of her bed. “It’s an Access Trunk,” she explained. “We don’t know exactly how Harry’s Trunks work. We think the Access Trunks are mostly an elaborate expansion Charm and the door leading to the main trunk is a portal of some kind. What’s beyond the door is Harry’s farm. We don’t know really where it is. We think it’s separate from this world yet connected by the trunks. Again, don’t ask how.” She opened the trunk and climbed down inside. “It’s perfectly safe,” she called up.
Molly looked around as Arthur climbed down. “It’s not much,” she said. “You’ve been here all this time?”
“Um… not ‘til the day I came home. I live beyond that door in that other place wherever it is. This is just a cloakroom. Close the lid, Daddy. We don’t want the twins getting too curious. I’d hate to think what the wards might do.”
“Right,” Arthur Weasley said closing the lid behind him. “Um… we can get out, right?”
Ginny chuckled. “Of course, Daddy. This way.”
Molly gasped at the Entry Hall. It was huge. She would not have been the least bit surprised if she had been told that it had more room than the entire Burrow. There was a large set of double doors on one side and another directly across flanked by a wide stair on the other. The side they had entered had several smaller doors. Each had a label which Molly read: “Abbott,” “Granger,” “Greengrass,” “Lovegood,” “Harry Potter,” “Weasley,” “The Valley,” “Mountain House,” “Potter Cottage,” “The Old Farm,” “The Lake,” “The Island,” “Garden House,” and “The Stables.”
“It takes a little getting used to,” Ginny said. “But don’t worry. You can’t get lost.”
“What are those?” Molly asked indicating the labeled doors.
“Well, the ones with a family name on them are Access Trunks like mine and they’re at the home of the parents. The one that says ‘Harry’ is the exit from this main trunk and that trunk is currently at the Grangers. The other doors are portals to the other houses on this Estate. Potter Cottage is currently in use. The rest are guest houses, should we have more guests than can stay here at the main house or something like that.”
“This is a bit much. And the tapestries?”
“The tapestries and portraits in the public rooms are copies of other ones. They’re all of Harry’s ancestors dating back to before Hogwarts. It’s quite a history and far more interesting to learn than what they teach at school. We can take a look at this floor before going upstairs to see my room, okay?”
“What’s this room we’re in?”
“We call it the Entry Hall ‘cause this is where you enter the estate from Outside and those large doors lead out to the Gardens. They were added not long after I arrived. The doors by the stair lead to the rest of the Public Rooms on this floor. Mrs. Greengrass thinks this was also intended as a ballroom, but we haven’t had anything like that. Shall we?”
The tour of what Ginny called the Main Floor took a while, mainly because Arthur kept asking about various things. The recreation room fascinated him with all sorts of Muggle looking games. Molly was surprised that there were three dining rooms. There was a Kitchen, she was told, but you needed Harry’s permission to see it. Ginny called it Harry’s kitchen. She explained that Harry liked to cook on occasion and it was agreed that was his room. Of course it helped that he was the only one living there who was any good at cooking.
Ginny had led them into one of two parlours off of a very large room. Ginny told them this one was called the “Ladies Parlour” and it was where she and her “sisters” hosted their guests, although today was the first time Ginny had guests. To Molly’s surprise, Ginny did not seem the least bit upset by this.
“I understand why it had to be this way,” she had explained earlier. “I probably understand now better than you do. I’ve had a wonderful summer and before you ask Harry has been a perfect gentleman to all of us. I’d like to think it was meant to be this way.”
“But he said… you might have to… ,” Molly began.
“That was then,” Ginny said. “And at that time that was the case. The wards that also protect us can only be maintained so long as the youngest member of Harry’s family spends at least a month at his Aunt’s house each year and is not yet seventeen. We did spend the month there. We spent our nights in here and here was in Harry’s bedroom there. But we never had to deal with those people and neither did Harry except once. We still believe we need those wards, but I no longer have to be the one to see them extended past my seventeenth birthday and before you ask, no. There are no other brides or betrothed’s out there. Good morning, Lily,”
Molly then saw they were not alone in the large parlour. There was a young woman seated in a chair with a book on her lap. The woman was clearly older than Harry and the others by several years, but much younger than Molly and Arthur and Molly could swear she was probably pregnant.
“These must be your folks,” the woman said with a smile. “I’m Lily Potter,” she added after standing up and offering her hand to the Weasleys.
“Arthur Weasley,” Ginny’s father said, “and my wife Molly. We are… or were Ginny’s parents.”
“You’ll always be that, Daddy,” Ginny said. “I may not be a Weasley any more technically, but I’m still your daughter.”
“Thanks,” he said softly, clearly trying not to be overcome by emotions.
“Lily Potter is it?” Molly said. “You have the same name as Harry’s mother, you know.”
“I should know. I am his mother.”
“That’s impossible…”
“But true, Mum,” Ginny said. “She is Lily Potter.”
Recognition and realization dawned on the faces of the elder Weasleys.
“But your dead! I was at your funeral. You were in that casket,” Molly protested.
Lily gave her a mischievous smile that reminded Molly a little too much of her twins. “What you saw was a transfigured pig - as in one of those hoofed animals raised so we can have ham, pork and bacon. It was a complicated bit of magic and the last thing I remember was Voldemort casting the killing curse and then James and I woke up in our bedroom in the cottage and almost twelve years had passed. We had been under a stasis charm all that time and still would be had Harry not claimed his inheritance and gained access to our Trunk - which is not unlike this one.”
“But if… if… none of this would've…”
“Harry did not know about us,” Lily said. “He could not have known until he came to our cottage. He did not even know about the trunks until after what happened and didn’t find us until his birthday. It was luck really. We told no one what we were planning. We didn’t know if it would work to be honest and didn’t find out it worked until Harry revived us a few weeks ago. There was no way he could’ve even guessed that we might still be alive. He did what he had to do to preserve his heritage and when he did it, he was as certain as the rest of the world that we were dead.”
“I have no regrets, Mum,” Ginny said. “I meant it when I said this summer’s been wonderful. I spent a year at school and made no friends. Now I have five of the best friends you can ask for and several more on top of that. That could only have happened here and could only have happened if things happened the way they did. And, thanks to Lily here, I only need to remain a true concubine until next June. That’s when Harry and I will be married - with a proper wedding to follow when we’re older just as that contract he did sign says.”
“Thanks to…?”
“I’m expecting,” Lily said. “I was about two months along that night and was still that far along when I was released from stasis. Yes, I’ve seen a Healer and she’ll be here for dinner with her family.”
“You look further along than…”
“Not quite half way home,” Lily said. “These trunks have a Time Compression feature and it does not affect the little one so it ages based upon the time it experiences and not the time outside of the Trunks. We’ve used that feature a few times since Harry brought us ‘round so I’m further along now. I would’ve been due in late February or early March. Now it’s not later than mid-January and I dare say we’ll probably use that feature again before then so it may well be before the end of this year.”
“It’s why I won’t have to be the one,” Ginny said. “Harry’s new brother or sister will be the youngest Potter living on the Estate once it’s born, extending the wards out to 2010 or so. Of course, we hope they’re not needed that long. Please have a seat.”
The elder Weasley’s sat down and an Elf maid popped into the room the instant they were seated.
“This is my friend and Handmaiden, Sunshine,” Ginny said. “Among her duties are taking care of my rooms, my things, me and my guests.”
The Weasleys were stunned.
“I think some tea would be nice, Sunshine.”
“Of course, Miss Ginny,” the elf said and a tea service appeared. As the Weasleys made their tea Ginny explained that the tea was grown here on the estate. The tea plantation was only about two miles from where they were and they had over two thousand acres planted. Her parents surprise mounted as she described the full extent of the farms and Estate.
It took the Weasleys a little while to get over what they had been told. They had no idea what sort of life Ginny was living. She had been almost literally dragged off to goodness knows where and all they had know was about a small house with bars on a second floor window. This place certainly could never be described as little and the Farm outside was huge by any definition. And yet, while elegant, the house or manor or whatever it was did not scream old or particularly rich. The tapestries and paintings showed an ancient heritage, but this place looked new and its furnishings and appointments were nice looking but clearly functional. There were no expensive, decorative pieces of anything that they could see. Still…
“This must’ve cost a fortune,” Arthur couldn’t help but say.
“Harry could afford it,” Ginny said. “It was paid for from his Trust Vault and he still has a lot more left sitting there. Besides, as he sells most of what’s grown here, it will pay for itself in a few years.” She then chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Molly asked.
“You should’ve heard Harry and Neville Longbottom talk a few weeks ago,” Ginny said. “Neville’s situation is very similar to Harry’s and he has a large Trunk Estate as well. They reminded me of the old Muggle farmers in town talking about their farms. If you closed your eyes, you’d never know they were really a couple of young wizards still in school.”
“Where is Harry, by the way?” Molly asked.
“It’s Saturday,” Lily said. “My husband and his friends have dragged my baby off to further corrupt him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Golf. They’re off playing golf. I can’t see the allure of that silly game. Then again, never saw the allure of Quidditch either and at least they’re not doing that.”
“It’s not safe for him out there,” Arthur said. “There’s a madman…”
“Harry’s here on the Estate. There are nine of those golf courses here. I think he may be at the Valley course which is about twenty-five miles or so from here, but I don’t know. My husband and his best mate were talking about playing there ‘cause they’ve played it a lot and the other haven’t.”
“Others?”
“Harry, Bob Granger, David Greengrass and Ted Tonks.”
“And where are his other… Ladies?” Molly asked.
“Where I’d be if I wasn't… They’re at the stables riding with the other sane people. Well, Luna, the Tennysons and the Greengrass’s youngest are probably out on the North Lawn. They don’t ride. So for now it’s just us.”
They talked for several minutes, mostly about the summer. Lily had not taken part in the trip in France so Ginny spent time telling her parents all the places they had seen.
“I still can’t believe… ,” Molly began at one point. “All this time and none of it was true…”
“It was true enough,” Lily said. “In the eyes of magic we were dead. We were frozen in time and there was no trace of our magic anywhere, just as there would be no trace had we actually died. Harry could not have claimed his legacy otherwise. But he did and the Potter Ring recognizes him as Head of House so it is as if we died. But yes, it would seem quite a lot of what people believe to be true is anything but that. For example, everything you’ve heard about Sirius Black is false.”
“WHAT?” the elder Weasleys said. Lily then told them about what really had happened back in October and early November of 1981 and that Sirius Black never had a trial.
“He’s Harry’s Godfather, you know,” Lily concluded. “As in he took the magical oath and all that.”
“Then who did all those things back then?”
“Peter Pettigrew.”
“But he died that day!” Molly protested.
“Even less of a death than we suffered,” Lily commented. “No, he just made it look that way. He’s been hiding all of these years right under the noses of our world. But thanks to your daughter here, we’ve caught him. He currently is in stasis and when we’re ready, the truth will come out.”
“How did Ginny help?”
“Simple really,” Lily said. “She lived in the house where he was hiding.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Molly countered. “I think I’d know if there was a strange man hiding about our place!”
“He was not hiding as a man. Few people knew this and he certainly never registered it, but he’s an animagus. Ever since that incident where he killed all those Muggles, he’s been living in his animal form…”
“Don’t tell me he was one of my roosters!”
“No. He’s a rat… in more ways than one, come to think of it.”
“A… Scabbers?”
Lily nodded. “Under the best of circumstances, a rat might live past its fourth or fifth birthday. Four years is a very old rat. I take it that rat’s been about a little longer than than?”
Molly nodded. “Percy found him. Percy was… My word! It would’ve been just before Christmas that year! I have a murderer skulking about my house, living with my children all this time?”
“So it would seem” Lily replied. “And the last two years sleeping in the same room at Hogwarts as my son, the boy his Master failed to kill that night and Neville Longbottom, a boy we also think You-Know-Who was after. But as I said, Ginny here took care of your rodent problem.”
“Actually, much as I’d like the credit, it was Sunshine,” Ginny said. “Mum’s set Ron to finishing his summer assignments so sneaking into his room’s a bit of a problem and… Well, I didn’t want to do it in the dark either. Sunshine nicked him last night.”
Molly actually chuckled. “So in a way that filthy thing has run off. I shouldn’t laugh. Ron does care about it, I suppose. He’s going to be unset not finding his rat.”
“So long as he doesn’t blame it on Sammy. I can’t believe he’d think a kitten would take on a rat, much less even know how to eat one!” She then laughed. “Ron would probably hate this place.”
“Okay… ,” Lily said slowly, “why do you say that?”
“I hope it’s not about his hang up about money,” Molly said.
“I wasn’t thinking about that, Mum. To be honest, I really haven’t thought much about money or wealth at all since coming here. Odd, really. But this place doesn't… it doesn’t seem rich or something. It’s big, but it’s a home and not one of those fancy places for showing off, you know. No, I meant the cats. Sammy’s one of five that live here. Hannah has a girl kitten named Sheba and Luna has one she wanted to name after me, but I convinced her to name her kitten Snowflake because it’s all white. Hermione and Daphne have boy cats named Crookshanks and Thor. It’s clear Crookshanks is the leader of sorts. But I swear those two remind me of cat versions of Fred and George…”
The Weasleys stayed for a week. Actually it was only a little over two hours as the trunk was placed under Time Compression again. This was the last Saturday of the Summer Holiday after all and while they planned to have the families over as often as possible during the school year - again on Saturdays, they did not know how often that would be. After all, Saturdays were also the days of Quidditch matches and Harry was the team Seeker and Hogsmeade Weekends which the older children would be able to enjoy. Harry didn’t think it was fair to Luna and Ginny, but those two and all the adults convinced him he should go out with the others on those days.
Molly was right. She no sooner arrived back at the Burrow when she suspected trouble. She found Percy in his room working on something and not keeping an eye on the others. Ron was nowhere to be found in the house. He, Fred and George were all in the apple orchard on brooms. It was not a pleasant Saturday afternoon for the four boys.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 st 1993
Harry had arrived at Platform 9 ¾ by floo. His parents had wanted to come along and see him off, but they all agreed that someone might recognize them and that would be awkward to say the least. Even with the Fidelius, they did not want to take unnecessary chances. After all, the Charm hid the secret which was the truth that the Potters were alive, not the memory of them or what they looked like. Nothing prevented an observant person from drawing their own concludions even if no one would believe them. Besides, while most of his girls would be arriving with their own families, Luna’s father was still on expedition. But the two of them were not alone either. With them were a boy and girl about to start Hogwarts for the seventh time since 1527. Nicholas and Perenelle were now Peter Parker and Amanda Crosby. Even Harry was not so clueless as to fail and recognize that Nicholas Flamel had chose the name of a fictional Muggle character whose alter ego could climb walls and cast webs and was known as Spiderman. Peter/Nicholas said it came to him when he heard about all the Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. Luna had received a package from her father and a long missive about the dangers of non-native magical species especially ones that were not put off by the new environment. Luna already knew this. The letter was more to provide her with arguments should anyone ask about her package. Inside was a thriving colony of female Ardites that had been placed in stasis when they were just about ready to lay their eggs. Luna planned to release them into the forest their first Saturday back.
They had arrived early, much earlier than Harry had arrived either of the last two years and there were not many families about. Harry led the group to the back of the train and spied a compartment with a grown man in it. The man was shabbily dressed and pale. He was seated by the window and seemed to be dozing. The door to the compartment was closed and they had seen no other students yet.
“My guess is that’s got to be him,” he said to the others.
“You sure we should…?” Luna began. “I mean they’re plenty of empty compartments.”
“We’ve practices that spell a lot, but never faced off against one of those things. He did it the last time.”
“I have no doubt you’ll be able to,” Peter/Nicholas said, “and I’m sure we can in a pinch. But it is a skill that might raise questions. You can deal with him when the time comes. Sharing the same compartment will mean they will assume it was him and not a bunch of students who are years away from their O.W.L.s.”
“But if a whole bunch of…?”
“As annoying as it is, this is a society that will believe a convenient lie over a disturbing truth. A bunch of young students casting that spell is a disturbing truth because it calls into question their beliefs about what can and cannot be taught and when.”
Harry nodded. “We’ll get the compartment sorted,” he said. They had a plan for this day. Actually, they had two plans. One plan was one they hoped would not be necessary. Harry called Dobby who immediately set to work on the compartment while he and Luna waited outside. It would be expanded to several times its size along the length of the train, but still would remain the same width. Actually, the modified compartment would be no bigger outside than it was. Dobby was only expanding the interior so that it could seat a lot of people. At the far end from the door, there would be a snack bar that Dobby would man for the trip. To anyone unaware of the redesigned compartment who looked in uninvited, all they would see was the man currently seated facing the rear of the train. Harry’s girls, the Flamels and Neville’s family would join them in this compartment and their friends could enter as well. The Flamels, meanwhile, would round up the First Year Muggle Borns, at least the ones at risk.
“Dementors, as horrible as they are, are very simple minded and incapable of decision,” Nicholas had told them. “When faced with choosing between two people, it will be unable to do so. The best defense against their ‘Kiss’ is not to be alone. The First Year Muggle Borns, who know no one, are the most likely to be alone in a compartment. As long as a compartment has at least two students, they’ll be safe from that. It still won’t be a pleasant experience, however.”
“But in my memory the girl was sharing the compartment with me,” Luna said.
“Where were you seated?”
“She was by the door and I was by the window.”
“That probably was enough distance so that the dementor did not have to decide.”
Regardless of what happened, Luna had already prepared an eyewitness account. Some details would be added later based upon what happened and if any student suffered the Kiss, that would be included. This account would be sent to her father and to the Daily Prophet. The copy to her father would be under her own name. The one to the Prophet was under Susan’s name. The name Lovegood would not interest the ministry mouthpiece as they had little respect for The Quibbler or its publisher. Susan Bones, however, was another matter altogether and a scathing story of renegade dementors that suggested either the Ministry had lost control of the things or was setting those things on a train full of children; that was a story even the Prophet might find hard to bury.
Minerva McGonagall was dealing with yet another example of why Albus Dumbledore needed to sort out his priorities. She understood why he had yet again dumped practically all of the school administrative tasks in her lap and she understood all too well that as Deputy Headmistress, she could be expected to be assigned at least some of the administrative load. Some Headmasters preferred to spend their time away from school soliciting donations, arguing for curriculum changes or about the standards of O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s and later Masteries. Many took a keen interest in the other schools with an eye to improving theirs. Minerva had no issue with that. But Albus was not one of those. She knew he did some of it when he had the time but he also had responsibilities as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards or ICW and those roles had little or nothing to do with students or education and took up much of his time. It was telling that when he was removed from his position as Headmaster for a time just the last year, it had made no impact upon the school in terms of day-to-day administration. Minerva admired and respected the man, but felt he could not serve as Headmaster and in those other important roles without one or more of them suffering as a consequence and, in her opinion, the loser in this juggling match far too often was Hogwarts. The school certainly would have been if she had not been able to handle it. But she was stretched. The Headmaster did not teach classes. She taught all seven years of Transfiguration which had her in front of a class an average of five hours a day, five days a week for nine months of the year and goodness knows how many hours grading homework and preparing lessons. Even after almost forty years, this was not something she could do without any preparation.
She understood something was up. She knew it had to do with whatever had happened at Gringotts about three weeks ago. If the Daily Prophet was to be believed, Sirius Black had walked in bold as brass for some reason and no one stopped him. Not that she was surprised. The Goblins were not about to let a little thing like a Wizarding criminal record and nationwide manhunt interfere with their business or customers and wouldn’t act against a Wizard just because others thought him a criminal. As long as Black had not violated Goblin law, they could care less what he was like outside their walls. But the rumours were that something had happened and emergency meetings in the Wizengamot and across the Channel near Paris supported that conclusion. Albus had written to say he should be there for the Welcoming Feast but not to delay it on his account and that he would probably be gone again the next day.
When Albus acted as Headmaster, he was a very good one in Minerva’s opinion. She had no doubt he was better than most she had known both at Hogwarts and at other schools in Britain and in Europe. She felt even at his age he could probably do quite well as Headmaster while also doing quite well in one of his other positions. But no one could do all three well. Something had to give and right now it was the school.
She looked at the stack of mail before her. On top was a pile of envelopes from Gringotts which struck her as odd. Mail from Gringotts was not odd in and of itself. The school received detailed accounting statements every month and payroll notices and similar, but never on the first of the month. Likewise, the school received notice of tuition payments, but they were due before September 1st. She had no idea what these were about and opened the first one and read it.
She could hardly believe it. She walked over to the fireplace, through in some powder and stuck her head into it once the flames turned a magical green. “Poppy? If you have a minute I need to see you!”
The modified compartment held a large and boisterous group of students. The professor still slept on the original bench at one end. It seemed Dobby had cast something similar to a silencing charm around him, but not identical. The sleeping professor could still hear everything, but it was as if the noise of the group was from nearby compartments, not the one he was in. The Flamels had managed to round up a dozen Muggle Borns who would begin first year with them exactly as Peter/Nicholas had foreseen so Harry hoped there would not be a dead or mindless student aboard when whatever was going to happen happened. His five girls were there as were Neville and his group including Astoria, the only rising First Year who was not a Muggle Born. She was hanging out and talking to her new classmates. Some additional students from the rising third year were present, almost all of them girls who were friends of the Third Years in either House Potter or Longbottom. Only one bothered Harry. Lavender Brown was the gossip queen of their year and best friends with Neville’s wife Parvati. But he knew the secret would be out soon. He just hoped it would last until at least after dinner. Also present was the rest of his Quidditch Team and Fred and George’s good friend and well known yet still unindicted coconspirator Lee Jordan. It was a nice crowd spread out in the extended compartment and the snack bar was a hit with everyone despite the lack of candies.
Harry was sitting on a bench along the wall facing the windows between Luna and Hermione when Ginny walked up to them holding her kitten.
“You find Ron?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said somewhat resignedly. “He’s sitting with Dean and Seamus two cars up. I told him a little ‘bout this… Well, I told him you were back here, but he didn’t want to come.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I said I was sitting with you as well and he asked if my cat was with me and I said yes and he said you could always sit with them and I left.”
“Okay, what’s his problem?” Hermione asked.
“Guess he doesn’t like cats,” Harry quipped.
Ginny sighed. “He’s certain Scabbers ran away ‘cause the rat was afraid of my little Sammy, can you believe that? Sammy’s not that much bigger. Mum’s been telling him that it’s his own fault for not keeping that cage bolted and besides, Scabbers was old. It was probably his time which was why he left.”
“Time for what?” Luna asked.
“To go off and snuff it,” Ginny said, “although Mum was not so…”
“Cavalier?” Hermione offered.
“Something like that.”
Harry shrugged. “He sits with Dean and Seamus and I get to sit with a bunch of pretty girls near a snack bar. His loss.”
“Oi, Fred!” One of the twins was walking past with Alicia Spinet, “Harrykins is talking ‘bout pretty girls!”
“Got it in my bag,” the other said.
“Hate to eat and run, but there’s money to be made!”
“What was that about?” Neville asked who was nearby.
“My brothers are probably starting another betting pool,” Ginny said. “Probably about Harry’s love life, if I know them.”
About two hours later, while a fair number of the young people were dozing and others talking quietly so as not to wake those who were asleep; the train lurched violently amidst a squeal of metal. Everyone was tossed about a bit. No one clearly knew what was happening although those who had spent that time at Longbottom Farm had a disturbing suspicion.
“We’re there?” a rising First Year boy asked.
“Not hardly,” Hermione said. “We’re ‘bout three hours out.”
“Why are we stopping?” someone asked.
“Not much of an Express if it stops,” another voice added.
“Is it just me, or is it getting colder?”
It was getting colder and the atmosphere was getting depressing. Soon they could see their breath as they breathed. Some were shivering and a few of the youngest were beginning to whimper. Harry was trying to keep a clear head, but it was hard as images of his time at the Dursleys from before Hogwarts kept popping into his head. “They’re coming,” he said. “Wands!”
House Potter and House Longbottom drew wands.
“It’s harder when they’re around,” Astoria said. Harry knew what she meant.
“Not the memory, the feeling,” Neville said. “It’s the last to go.”
“If that door opens, cast,” Harry said. He truly hoped it would not open. He knew of dementors from his future memories but had no actual memory of them. He was beginning to think that he now knew why and wondered how Sirius had survived those things. There wasn’t one in the compartment and they did not know how close one might be, but this was awful enough. They could hear some people screaming outside of the compartment. Harry looked around and saw that all of the rising First Years had been gathered behind him and the others. The sounds of screams was coming closer although it was hard to tell how close. The Professor remained asleep. Harry saw the handle on the door turn. “Wait for it,” he whispered to those near him. He could not know if any of them were capable. As Neville had said, he focused not on a memory, but the feeling. The door was now opening and then it seemed to glide in.
It was only a second or less but it seemed longer. The thing seemed to floated above the ground. It wore tattered, black robes and a hood, more like a cowl, was pulled over where the head would be. It turned to face Harry and the others, ignoring the professor. There seemed to be no face, no head beneath the cowl, only blackness. Slowly it started to move towards them, towards Harry.
“Expecto Patronum!” Harry said forcefully holding on to the feeling he had felt through most all of the summer. A bright light filled the compartment and the dread and depression vanished in an instant. He wondered if it was just him. Between him and that thing stood the spectral stag he had seen countless times in practice and then the stag charged. It seemed to impale the cloaked demon, but that couldn’t be, could it? Nevertheless, a high pitched and inhuman scream filled the compartment, as did several spectral animals, all racing forward. They seemed to ignore the apparent struggle between stag and demon and flew out the door heading off down the train’s passageway. The stag was shaking its head violently from side to side and still the thing screamed. It moved back and forth with the Stag’s head even more violently until there was a noise almost like a “Pop.” The robes fell to the floor, empty of anything and the stag charged out the door following the spectral menagerie.
“What the…?” the sleeping Professor said leaping to his feet and drawing his wand. “Wait here,” he commanded before heading out into the passageway himself.
“What the bloody hell was that?” a high pitched voice asked from behind him.
“Dementor, I would suspect,” Harry heard Hermione say. “Never seen one before, but it fit the descriptions I’ve read.”
“You all didn’t think magic was all fun and games, did you,” Harry said trying to calm down as he stared at the empty robes. “There’s some nasty stuff too. That’s about as nasty as anything I’ve experienced.”
“It looked like death ‘cept without the curvy knife thing,” another voices said, this one shaking.
“It’s believed the image of death in art is based on those things, but they aren’t it,” Hermione said.
“Chocolate,” another voice said. Harry glanced back and saw Perenelle passing out pieces of brown stuff he guessed was the confection. “It’s an interesting chemical cocktail,” she said. “One of its effects is that it makes you feel better when you’re feeling down. Read it in a book once,” she added by way of explanation and to cover her real knowledge of the topic.
“It seems to work,” a voice said, although it sounded like that person had some in his or her mouth.
“What were those white things?” a girl asked. “They were nice. Where they animals ‘cause they looked like animals.”
“They’re called a patronus,” Neville said. “It’s a magical projection of positive force. Think of it as very, very happy magic. It’s supposed to drive those things away.”
“Where’d you lot learn to do that?” Oliver Wood the lone Seventh Year in the Compartment asked. He was also the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and had been teaching a number of the new students - all boys - about the magical sport with the help of Fourth Year Chaser Katie Bell. “They don’t teach that ‘til N.E.W.T. Level Charms!”
“Only ‘cause we’ve had such brilliant Defense Professors,” Tracy Davis said sarcastically. “The standard curriculum is supposed to include it beginning in Third Year. Given the last two Defense Professors, a few of us got together with a private instructor over the summer.”
“I can’t even do that yet,” Oliver countered. “It's…”
“Draining,” Neville replied. “It’s a powerful charm, but it drains you more than most spells would.”
“That was not supposed to happen,” Harry added. He had walked up to the robes and was tapping them with his foot as if to see if the thing was really gone. “Neville’s right. It’s a powerful charm that drives them off if done right. It has no physical substance. It’s not supposed to be able to gore those things and rip them apart.”
“Then why did that one?” a voice asked.
“No idea,” Harry mused. “Seems to be the story of my life. If it can’t happen, just wait. It will happen to me.”
Some of the people in the room laughed.
Albus Dumbledore had not forgotten about his plans for House Potter. Far from it. But for over two years now, it had become a much lower priority and certainly something that could wait. After all he had not really thought of moving forward with it until the Weasley girl had reached Bonding Age and she had not even begun to… well, he did not like to think about that. It meant the earliest he could consider encouraging a relationship was not until next school year. The truth was, once he had found it necessary to obliviate the girl’s parents when they had second thoughts and refused to act reasonably - they had gone so far as to state they’d sent all their children to St. Michaels before ever considering going through with the terms of the Contract - Dumbledore had resigned himself to the fact that he would have to wait until Harry’s Sixth Year, which was when he could set Severus on the unsuspecting couple without having to let the girl’s parents know about it. That was still more than soon enough seeing as the boy could not truly exercise control until later. But he had not thought of any of that in a long while.
Like most everyone else in the Wizarding World, Dumbledore had believed that Voldemort had died that night in Godric’s Hollow. He had known when the wards protecting the Potters had collapsed and had sent Hagrid there by portkey to find out what was going on. He had others in the area, but none were as trustworthy as Hagrid. Then Hagrid showed up at Hogwarts with the child, the only survivor of that attack. Dumbledore saw a new opportunity. Believing the Prophecy fulfilled, he had set in motion a spur of the moment plan to deal with House Potter once and for all. By controlling the heir, he would control the seat and the votes and thirty-four votes would shift the balance of power away from the Moderates and their Muggle ideas and to the Liberals and his Greater Good.
True, there had been some bumps to smooth out. Getting Guardianship over the boy had been easy. He had the emergency Guardianship the next day which allowed him to place the boy at the Dursleys. He placed the wards on the home to protect the boy from any retaliation. After all, if the boy died, thirty-three of the House Potter votes would die with him. True, this would hurt the Moderates, but it would not truly shift power into his hands.
One look at the Potter Will and he knew getting permanent Guardianship would not be an issue unless challenged. He believed that Black was the Potter’s Secret Keeper and therefore had to either be a Death Eater or in league with them, otherwise how could the Secret have been revealed? He also knew that another primary beneficiary was a Werewolf. Those who might allow the Will despite its benefiting a Death Eater would join the majority in the Wizengamot regardless of affiliation and reject it because few could believe the Head of an Ancient and Noble House would leave such sums as described to a Werewolf. The Will was either a fraud or procured through fraud. That Dumbledore knew this was not the case was both irrelevant and not likely to ever see the light of day. But there were still loose ends in those Marriage Contracts. Those people might not know about the Will, but they would know they had a legally enforceable claim to the boy. Nothing a memory charm could not fix.
It then became a simple question of keeping Harry ignorant of his heritage until it was too late. This was the other reason for leaving him with his mother’s sister. That woman had no clue who the Potters were or what that could mean and, coupled with her pathological distrust of magic, Harry would arrive at Hogwarts without any idea about anything in the Wizarding World. The one potential problem was that Dumbledore could not control the Sorting Hat. It would sort Harry where it sorted Harry. He figured there was a good chance the boy would be sorted into Gryffindor as his parents had been and as the last five generations of Potter had been, but this was not certain. Gryffindor was the best option from Dumbledore’s perspective. Of all the Houses, it was the one least impressed by titles. You made your name for yourself by what you did and not who your family was. The absolute worst possibility would have been Slytherin. Many of the students there practically memorized family lineages, theirs and anyone else in their House. Fortunately, Harry was sorted into Gryffindor. Unfortunately, so was his potential Bond Mate. But Dumbledore dismissed that as something not in need of attention. She was an outcast and even if she seemed friendly with the boy, there was no reason to suspect they would bond. Having the ability to do so and actually doing so were very different things. He paid it little attention. Then again, the whole plan against House Potter was no longer top priority.
Everything changed three months before the boy arrived to be sorted. Quinirus Quirrell had returned from a couple of years of travels abroad to assume the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. House Potter was not the biggest threat to Dumbledore’s Greater Good, just a historical irritant. The greatest threat in recent years was Voldemort. Dumbledore knew that somehow, Quirrell had found something of the man all thought to be dead and somehow that man, while not alive, was also not dead. Over his long life, Dumbledore had developed the ability to detect a person’s magical signature. It was not a particularly useful talent. The person had to be physically close to detect anything at all. Even then, the talent was of little use unless you were familiar with the signature to begin with and the person standing before you and the signature did not match. It was a good defense against polyjuice potion and he had been able to detect an animagus by recognizing their human signature, but little else. When Quirrell returned, Dumbledore detected two such signatures, one of which was that of a man he long had written off as dead. This now took priority over any of his other plans. Moreover, he guessed correctly that Voldemort’s goal was to get to Hogwarts to kill Harry Potter. In addition to the Prophecy, which told Dumbledore that should the boy die by Voldemort’s hand, all would be lost, there was also the fact that it would destroy House Potter. Dumbledore wanted control of that House, not its destruction. Besides, while he had suspicions, Dumbledore needed to know how Voldemort had managed to cheat death.
He needed a distraction and a trap. He had to tempt this form of Voldemort with something of greater value than killing the boy as soon as possible. He also needed a trap to capture Voldemort. He suspected Voldemort could free himself of Quirrell with ease and be gone. He needed a trap in a place that nothing, not even a spirit could escape. For Dumbledore, the next few months and for all of Harry’s First Year that had followed, he had spent his time setting and building this trap to catch his prey. The bait was the Philosopher’s Stone. It was not the real one although Dumbledore doubted that mattered. Only two people on Earth really knew anything about the real stone including what it could and could not do and neither of them was named either Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort. But what it was rumoured to be capable of doing; that was another matter entirely. The Stone was used to distract Voldemort away from Harry. Harry had to live to fulfill the Prophecy that obviously was not fulfilled the night his parents died. Voldemort had taken possession of Quirrell knowing full well that such possession would only be temporary and would kill the host leaving him once again a disembodied spirit. The Stone promised much, much more. It was one thing to kill the boy who had defeated him and remain defeated. It was quite another to regain a body and live again. Dumbledore knew that Voldemort would choose to wait to kill the boy if waiting allowed his to return to his former power and have a second chance at his goal of dominion over all.
Quirrell knew that the stone would be at Hogwarts within days of Dumbledore’s deciding to set a trap. The whole faculty knew, for they would be enlisted to help build the trap. Aside from Trelawney, Kettleburn, Babbage and Binns but including Quirrell, every Professor would add their talents to the trap and only Dumbledore would know all of the traps and tricks. It should have been all but fool proof. Many of the obstacles would stump most witches and wizards. Some were potentially lethal.
Another person might have thought the entire convoluted scheme was some kind of test for one Harry Potter. It was not that at all. It was a magical obstacle course designed to keep Voldemort interested and lead him into a trap. It had to be hard enough to be credible to Voldemort, but not completely impossible and it had to delay him long enough for Dumbledore to get into position to spring the final trap. That meant some of the obstacles had to be lethal, many had to be tricky and a few had to be such that a mistake would make the Stone unobtainable.
The first obstacle was the student body. Dumbledore’s seemingly unwise warning about the Third Floor Corridor which seemed to have been made to deter students was made with exactly the opposite intent. Dumbledore knew full well what would happen. Scores of students would be trying to find out just what it was that made that corridor a place where one might suffer “a most painful death.” It would be weeks before the curious and foolhardy either sated their desires or grew bored with it.
The next trap was the door itself that was warded. Any wizard with even a rudimentary skill at ward breaking would detect the ward and know it was an alarm and Voldemort’s skills were hardly rudimentary. He would know that until the ward was deactivated, anyone opening the door would set off an alarm in Dumbledore’s office and several other staff offices. All Heads of House would be alerted as would Madam Pomfrey and they would know who opened the door. If it was anyone other than a student, there would be a staff member there quickly. It would take hours to study and more hours to deactivate this ward without triggering the alarm and with the parade of students looking for an adventure, such time was not available. The Troll on Halloween was set loose to get the entire student body out of the way to allow Voldemort to study this problem. It failed because Snape had got there first and because a couple of First Years had found and defeated the Troll much sooner and more easily than expected. It took months for the interest to die down to the point for Voldemort to work his way past this first obstacle.
Dumbledore had believed his plan that would lure Voldemort deeper and deeper into a trap could not fail and it nearly had not. Fluffy and the flying keys were not as obvious obstacles as they seemed and failure to figure the right way past them would find the person in an inescapable trap caused by a detectable yet unbreakable cascading ward array. It was unbreakable because you had to get past the associated obstacle without triggering the wards to even find the runes that controlled the wards.
McGongall’s chess set would stump many a wizard as she was a very accomplished player and her transfigured board was her equal. It had nearly stopped Voldemort in his tracks and it took him six games to win and open the way forward. Snapes riddle was so obvious that Voldemort did not trust it and resorted to detection charms which took time as well. It had taken Voldemort twelve hours to negotiate the labyrinth to reach the final obstacle, one which Dumbledore felt that only he could get past.
But Dumbledore had assumed too many things. He assumed that the person navigating the labyrinth would go it alone and not as a team, that it would be a person who would never cooperate with another. He assumed that any student who attempted the labyrinth would make a critical mistake and find themselves trapped or facing his forewarned “most painful death.” He assumed no one could easily beat McGonagall at chess and finally that he had eliminated the possibility of luck being a factor. With the help of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry had made it through the entire labyrinth in a little over an hour including the final obstacle, arriving at the mirror only fifteen minutes behind Voldemort and getting the fake stone in seconds.
This past year, when the Chamber was first opened, Dumbledore knew exactly what was going on but was at a loss to explain it. While he suspected a student was the source of the attacks, he never suspected a student was possessed by a diary or anything close to it. He suspected for years that the monster was a basilisk. The problem was his usual source of information about what was moving about the school - the ghosts and portraits and elves - were not immune to the creature. Ghosts had been incapacitated, portraits petrified and still had not been reanimated and several elves had died. Moreover, it did not matter if he knew what the monster was since he had no idea where the Chamber was or how to get into it; problems Harry solved within minutes of learning from a petrified Hermione that the monster was most likely a basilisk.
But the last two years had shown conclusively to Dumbledore that Voldemort was not dead and indeed was trying to become whole again. Moreover and more disturbingly, Dumbledore now knew how Voldemort had cheated death and that he had without a doubt more safeguards than one would consider prudent. Until all of them were found and destroyed, one could kill Voldemort over and over again and he would still be able to return. Voldemort had to be defeated. Harry had to be the one to defeat him for the Prophecy was clear that only Harry could do so. Dumbledore’s plans for House Potter weren’t worth a Knut so long as Voldemort was kicking about. He wanted to focus on that. But that idiot Fudge had stepped in it and now it seemed all of his time was split between the Wizengamot trying to sweep it all under the table and the ICW itching to stick it to magical Britain. If he was not very capable, Britain could be subjected to painful sanctions. He did not need this distraction, not now.