Disclaimer: HP does not belong to me. Happy?
A/N: Almost a month since last chapter went live, huh? Sorry about the long wait - seems august wasn't the most productive month.
The Locket, part I - Busy birthday
Harry opened his eyes. His room was dark so he figured it must be either very late or very early. His sleepiness however was gone. He eased out of Hermione's embrace and sat on the edge of his bed. The alarm clock showed that it was only a few minutes after midnight. Thinking he should take a short stroll through the house to find his wayward sleepiness so he picked up his wand and quietly slipped out of the room. He decided to start from the bathroom and work his way through the house to the kitchen.
Suddenly Harry realized something rather important - it was a few minutes AFTER midnight! So he was now seventeen years old and could knock himself out using magic without ever again getting in trouble because of it - well unless he performed it in front of muggles. Grinning widely he lifted his wand and whispered 'Lumos'. Nothing Professor Flitwick had taught him suggested that whispering the charm would lessen the intensity of the light given by the spell but Harry was pleased to notice that was the case. He did not want to wake Hermione by suddenly dowsing the entire house in bright light.
He was in the kitchen a while later thinking to make a few sandwiches and some tea while he waited for his wayward sleepiness to get back from wherever it had wandered to. He was standing before the fridge when he remembered to mentally kick himself and just conjured the food and drink. He took them to the living room thinking maybe to read a spellbook and revise some of the more difficult spells. The ones that would work against the giants and dragons were especially mind-boggling and draining. Harry remembered how he had learned the Expecto Patronum charm - the incantation was easy, but finding the right memory and focusing on the happy feeling had been tough work even with only a boggart. The first time he had really managed to conjure a Patronus had been during the Quiddich game against Ravenclaw. 'And the whole school had seen it. Luckily only a quarter of them were Slytherin with Death Eater parents,' he thought. 'Lupin really needs to think of a better question when he next tries to find out if the person before him is really me or a fake,' Harry remembered the incident before his fifth year and the meeting with his "advance guard". 'Really…What form does my Patronus take? Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could've deducted it was a stag."
He looked at the worn spines of the books they had had for years and the ones Hermione had recently bought, wondering where to start. Turning around to place the platter and cup on the table he saw that it was already mostly occupied by the gigantic tome he had bought for Hermione. He set the food on the free corner of the table and sat down on the couch, waved the electrical lights on, pulled the heavy book off the table into his lap and opened it.
The first page held only two lines written in Latin. The first one was in black ink, written in an even, neat handwriting and translated into English as 'Knowledge is power' signed by R.R. The second line was in bright red ink scrawled hastily beneath the first one and said 'So is love. G.G.' It looked like the original author had made a serious effort in trying to remove the addition - unsuccessfully. Apparently the page had been replaced several times but the comment in red ink seemed to have reappeared every time. Harry grinned thinking this G.G. must've been someone like Fred and George or the Marauders - talented and misguided. He flipped the page and started reading the book that was full of the elegant handwriting in black ink.
After a few minutes of reading he had to admit that the book put McGonagall's NEWT level transfiguration classes to shame in its complexity. 'No wonder Mione loved it.' He had understood about the half of those lessons but it seemed like he and the author of the book were using the same language but having a different opinion on the meaning of the words. He was starting to feel funny from trying to beat the words into meaningful sentences in his mind. 'Maybe it just takes someone smarter to understand it - like Mione,' he thought grumpily. He thought of giving up on the book but found it hard to put down the book. Not physically because of tiredness - it felt like his eyes were glued to the pages and his mind was dead set on continuing reading until he was finished. Starting to fear that the book may have been jinxed Harry tried to think of a way to break the curse without harming the book. He was certain that Hermione would nail his skin to the wall should he harm it.
Something weird was happening to his eyes - it felt like his pupils were being torn wider and able to take in the whole page at once, then both of the pages that were open before him. The book turned to the next page on its own and again Harry's eyes took in every detail before him at once in a single glance. The book picked up the pace and pages started to flip in an increasing pace - filling Harry's mind with information it wasn't really able to comprehend at that moment. He felt like paralyzed, his eyes a magical version of Colin Creevey's camera taking a snapshot of the pages before him. His mind felt like bursting from the knowledge that was forced in it - a bit more and it would shut down completely. Harry was surprised when suddenly the flapping of pages stopped. After a moment he understood that he was now staring at the last pages of the book - which were empty. He tried to close the book but the compelling feeling was still there. Suddenly a small square appeared on one of the pages and got steadily larger. In a moment Harry recognized the small window as an entrance to a memory - it looked exactly as in Riddle's diary. He tried to keep his head away from it but was pulled towards it with more strength than he could oppose.
Harry blinked the spots from his eyes. He was standing in a small study room filled with bookshelves, a desk, chairs and a fireplace. The furniture and texture of the walls made him somehow think of Hogwarts. He had no idea where or when he was. Then he heard a scribbling sound and noticed a tall black-haired woman sitting behind the desk, writing something on a parchment. Harry tried to walk towards her but found himself unable to move. From where he was standing he could only get a glimpse of what the woman wrote on the parchment - and her hand. He decided that it belonged to a younger woman, only slightly older than Fleur or Tonks. Harry recognized the handwriting. Unless he was mistaken he had half his brain filled with it.
'So she must be the one who wrote the book,' Harry reasoned. He leaned closer to read the parchment. He was only able to see a small part of it, but what he could read was…unexpected.
…so I'm sure the child and his own children will inherit His power. He was the strongest among us magically. His raw power constantly amazed us - the things he could do…He didn't even need a wand. He said He used His love for all life, the world and…as his source of power.
But what about the mother? Unfortunately knowledge, her greatest strength, cannot be passed on simply by blood - and things could happen that would make the child an orphan, leave him without love or capable teachers. If the prophesy is to be fulfilled love will be the deciding factor in giving him the power but as He himself told me many times power without guidance could do more harm than good. So she decided to leave her knowledge as a gift and a weapon in the battle that is sure to come. She hopes it makes its way to the one who needs it most through the ages. They say that learning is a painful process - they have no idea…
Love - that he must find on his own. And only true love will give him strength - feelings brought on by the Amortentia for example would only weaken ones magical abilities. I have noticed how the emotions affect the wizards powers - strong feelings making them stronger, absence of them weakening them to the point of loosing the ability to do magic at all.
The woman continued writing but Harry felt being pulled away through the small window and back to the living room where he belonged. He felt a sharp pain in his head once then fell unconscious on the floor. He didn't know how long he had been out of it when he opened his eyes briefly. He must have lost his glasses because everything seemed like a white blur to him. He thought that he heard a faint phoenix song coming from his bedroom. He got on his shaking legs and staggered upstairs into the bed before he felt his consciousness slip away again.
:-:-:
Harry felt someone shaking him. The strange dream he thought he had about a book, a raven-haired woman and a letter faded into a blur as he opened his eyes. He squeezed them shut immediately because of the bright light that was blinding him.
"Harry! Wake up already!" Hermione's annoyed voice cut through the fog in his brain.
"'s too bright!" Harry mumbled. "D'you mind closing the curtains? The sun's shining right in my eye!"
"Stop fooling around and get up! The sun rises from the other side of the house, remember? Your window faces the west! I'll be late as it is!" Hermione continued to shake him.
"Late for what?" Harry asked, digging his face in the pillow.
"I'm going to my parents' house to say goodbye to them before we leave for Grimmauld Place, I told you that! And you need to get up, eat and get Ron!" She pulled the blanket off him. With an annoyed growl he waved his hand and conjured a new one.
"Well, you brought this on you yourself, Harry!" Hermione said in an evil tone.
'Uh-oh!' Harry had time to think.
"Aguamenti!" Hermione shouted - just for his benefit so he'd know what was coming, Harry was sure. She'd gotten better at non-verbal spellcasting than any person had the right to be in his opinion.
Harry rolled to his left and right off the bed - avoiding getting wet but earning a few bruises and becoming entangled in the blanket. So he thought there's no harm in doing a bit more rolling around and he rolled himself under the bed. The next moment the bed floated up in the air revealing a smirking Hermione with her wand pointed at him.
"Isn't it nice to not only get the breakfast but also the shower in your bed, Harry?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Oh, this is bad, real bad,' Harry thought when her wand started to trace the spell-pattern for Aguamenti again.
When the jet of water burst out of Hermione's wand time seemed to slow down for Harry. He forgot the need to use his wand, he forgot he was wrapped up in a conjured blanket and most importantly - he forgot it was a bad idea to mess with his girlfriend when she's in a playful mood. The moment the water started to fly through the air towards him he vanished the blanket. When the water was about to hit him he raised his hand and mentally shouted the first thing that came to his mind. Too bad it wasn't Evanesco - the vanishing charm that would have, well, vanished the water. It was Depulso which sent the stream of water right back at Hermione, soaking her from head to toes.
Hermione stood still in shock, thoroughly wet and stared daggers at him. Harry stood up, walked to her, wiped the water from her face and pushed away the wet strands of hair.
"Now tell me Mione - you didn't use cold water, did you?" he asked in a casual tone. Hermione glared at him then threw her head to the side making her hair whip around and slap him in the face.
"Well, that's one way to lash out at someone, then," Harry commented with a grin on his face. "God, this stuff is freezing!" The drops of water running down his back made him shiver. "I think I need to warm up a bit! Come here!" He pulled her into a deep kiss that got him wet all over from contact with her but because of the intense heat in his chest he didn't really notice or mind it.
"Now did you mention breakfast in bed?" he asked after releasing her lips.
"You can have it wherever you like but you better be here with Ron when I get back!" Hermione smiled at him and with a pop was gone from his arms.
"Should've used the Anti-Disapparation jinx," Harry muttered before picking up his wand from the bedside table and lowering the bed to its original height. He cast a drying charm on it then contemplated conjuring a plate of sandwiches and juice. Thinking that he'll probably be offered breakfast at the Burrow anyway Harry just got dressed and disapparated away.
After a while Harry caught Ron's eye and jerked his head slightly towards the other end of the table where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting. Ron nodded in return and his face hardened with resolve.
"Mum, Dad - I need to tell you something," Ron said.
"Yes, Ron? What is it?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Me, Harry and Hermione won't go back to Hogwarts this year." Everyone fell silent immediately - even the ghoul up in the attic seemed to quiet down and listen. "We'll be doing something else this year."
After a moment of total silence the twins jumped up from their seats.
"Bravo! Bravo!" They went to clap both Ron and Harry on their backs. "We're finally starting to see the family resemblance in you, Ron! Well done! And Harry, we never doubted you!"
"What?" Mrs. Weasley snapped in a tight tone that sent a chill through the room like a dementor attack. "What are you talking about, Ron? Not going back to Hogwarts?"
"No, I'm not," Ron stated calmly.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "It's your NEWT year! You'll be learning things that will help you survive until this situation with You-Know-Who is resolved! You think we'll let you go off who knows where?!"
Harry winced as Mrs. Weasley started to yell. He noticed that Ron started to go a bit red in the face from the effort of trying not to yell back at his mother.
"Letting me? I think I'll have to remind you that since I'm of age now you can't tell me what to do - right, Dad?" Mr. Weasley nodded. "And I'm not asking your permission. I'm letting you know," Ron answered in a forcedly civil tone.
The rest of the family looked from one very short member to the other rather tall one, not daring to interrupt. Ron's brothers had suspected something like that would happen and they would have really appreciated it if Ron had told them beforehand so they could clear out of the room first before he told it to Mrs. Weasley.
"As long as you live under our roof you'll bloody well do what we tell you, Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley roared at Ron.
Ron looked at his mother in silence for a moment before standing up. He turned to Harry who was trying to make himself as small as possible.
"Harry. Would you please come upstairs with me and help me pack?" Ron asked.
"Sure, Ron," Harry said in a quiet voice. He got up to follow Ron.
"And where will you go, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a much calmer tone - Harry couldn't tell if it was natural or forced. "What will you do?"
"We will go to Sirius's old house," Harry answered the first question. "You know how well protected it is and I'm sure we can add a few of our own soon."
"But…But Snape KNOWS of it, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley sounded like he was explaining something to a five-year old. "You'll be dead the moment you set foot in that house!"
"No." Harry shook his head. "He DID know of it. Not anymore."
The Weasleys were looking at each other confusedly. Suddenly Charlie's face lit up in understanding.
"Dumbledore had a successor! There's a new Secret Keeper, then?" he exclaimed. Harry nodded.
"Yes, there's a new Secret Keeper and he thought it best to start a new list of people he trusts."
"Who is it, do you know? How do you know you can trust him?" Mrs. Weasley was suspicious. "We trusted Snape and look what happened…"
"Like Dumbledore the new Secret Keeper is also the new Headmaster of the Order of the Phoenix," Harry told them. "I trust him," he added, grinning.
"The new Headmaster?" all the Weasleys, Ron included, asked at once. "Have you seen him? Who is it?"
"Yes, I see him occasionally," Harry gave them a wide grin. "Like when I'm passing a mirror." He concentrated on the warm feeling in his chest that had been there since the day he had kissed Hermione and sent a mental call for Albus. In a heartbeat the small phoenix appeared on the kitchen table in a blazing vortex of flames. Albus shrugged off the thin coat of ash covering him and after taking a look around immediately attacked the closest plate with sausages. The Weasleys stared at Albus, then at Harry, and then at Albus again. Harry wished he had a pair of omniocculars right then - the look on their faces must've been priceless.
"You?" Ron asked him.
"Yep! Want to be my second - er, actually third in command? Sorry but Hermione's going to be my second." 'Well actually I'm sure I'll be doing what she tells me, not the other way around,' he thought to himself.
"I think I'd like that, yes! You need someone with brains among the top three!" Ron beamed back at him. Fred and George started to choke on their drinks.
"The Order is not a children's club!" Mrs. Weasley snapped angrily. "Just what do you think the three of you can do?"
"What the three of us can do?" Ron asked in incredulous tone. "Mum, do I have to remind you what Sirius once told you? We three have already done more than many of the older wizards have managed to do in their entire lives! If it takes three kids to take care of Voldemort then so be it!" Everyone jumped at the name. Harry was equally surprised - this was the first time Ron had said it. He suspected Ron was too angry to even notice it. "Besides, Harry has been chosen as the Headmaster. Unless I heard it wrong there's nothing you can do about that - other than step out of the Order."
"Taking care of…" Mrs. Weasley seemed to be on the verge of fainting. "Why you? Why Hermione? Why Harry?"
"Why Harry? Because he IS the bloody Chosen One if you haven't got it already!" Ron slammed his fist on the table, making Albus bounce up in the air. Luckily Harry's Seeker reflexes helped him catch the phoenix instantly. Next to him Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No-one had said anything after his explosion - they were just staring at Ron, Harry or little Albus is silence.
"I shouldn't have said that, sorry, mate. It's your secret to reveal, not mine," Ron turned to Harry.
"Its OK," Harry shrugged. "I figure by now everyone at least suspects as much. Otherwise Scrimgeour wouldn't have bothered to try and make me the Ministry's new poster boy. Is that still one of their plans or have they gone back to the He's-Scarred-and-Mental plan?" he asked Mr. Weasley.
"As long as Scrimgeour has Fudge as his adviser I'm not really privy to their ideas concerning you, Harry," Mr. Weasley replied, setting his food aside. "Best advice I can give you comes from Moody - constant vigilance! I'll let you know if I hear anything… I'll ask Tonks and Kingsley - maybe they know of something I don't. As aurors they're closer to Scrimgeour than I. Rufus has a soft spot for his former Division workers." He took off his glasses to wipe them clean. "Should I tell them it's a personal favor or Order business?"
"Its both - what concerns me has direct impact on the Order and the fight against Voldemort," Harry decided. "And I'd like to know everything the Ministry knows or suspects about what Voldemort and his followers are up to. If Kingsley and Tonks have any information I need it."
"When will you hold a meeting, Harry? Last year you weren't in the Order so you don't even know everyone in it. You should hold a meeting soon to get to know everyone."
"I will, Mr. Weasley - probably in September. It will give my new friend here time to grow up a bit and gain strength for all the delivery work he needs to do." Harry picked up Albus who had gorged himself on the sausages and looked a bit groggy. "I think we need to talk about your eating habits, friend. Now hop back home, I'll be right there." Albus gave him a short warble and flamed off. Harry brushed the ash off his hand against his jeans. 'Hope he got the address right. Afraid it'll be a bit of a mess if he turns up somewhere in France or like that,' Harry thought to himself.
"Hey Harry! Don't forget to let me and George know when you start recruiting new Order members!" Fred said. "Some thought we were too young to join a while ago and last year Dumbledore was too busy doing who-knows-what to recruit new people. And the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products are at your disposal, naturally. Actually that reminds me of something… Wait here!" With a crack the twins disapparated and apparated back in less than a minute. George gave Harry a small wrapped-up present.
"Here you go, Harry! Happy Birthday! No-no-no!" he shouted when Harry started to unwrap it. "Its actually something for all the three of you so open it when you, Ron and Hermione are together. You'll like it - or it also has a 'money-back-guarantee'!"
Harry nodded his understanding and went with Ron upstairs to help him pack. Judging by the buzz of voices behind them the rest of the Weasleys started a discussion about what they had just heard.
Ron threw his school trunk open and started throwing items, schoolbooks and clothes in it. There wasn't much to pack so he was finished pretty quickly. He took a last look around the room with a bit of nostalgia on his face, sighed and dragged the trunk out of his room and down the stairs with Harry following him. Ron set the trunk down next to the door and turned to say goodbye to his family. With serious and sad faces the rest of the Weasleys hugged the two boys and wished them good luck - Mrs. Weasley with eyes red from holding back tears Ginny red in face from the effort of trying not to either kiss or kill them.
"Wait! Harry, you forgot to tell us the address to the Headquarters!" Mrs. Weasley shouted in alarm.
"No, I haven't," Harry simply said. "See you all in September."
Harry whispered to Ron the Privet Drive address as their first destination and disapparated from the Burrow. Ron waved to his family and with a crack was gone, too. Mrs. Weasley collapsed in her chair at the table and the tears started to run freely, at last.
With two bangs like shots from a double-barreled shotgun Harry and Ron appeared in Privet Drive Number 4's living room.
"We need to learn how to do this silently like Dumbledore," Harry winced. "Otherwise we'll have the muggles calling the police and reporting gunshots every time we do this near them." Ron nodded in agreement.
"Where's Hermione? And when do we go to Grimmauld Place?" Ron asked.
"She said she's going to say goodbye to her parents while I got you here. She should be back any moment now then we pack everything and leave this place for good," Harry told him.
They gathered everything that belonged to Harry and stuffed it in his trunk - clothes, books, items and artifacts Harry had obtained in his years at Hogwarts. When they were dragging it downstairs to put it next to Ron's trunk they heard a crack and Hermione's voice announcing that she's back. After a moment she appeared out of the living room, dragging her own trunk after her.
"So how did it go at your place?" Harry asked her.
"As expected, I guess," Hermione answered. "Mum was really sad…" She turned red in face, "…and Dad reminded me that he wanted me to wait at least until I'm eighteen."
"Well, Your birthday is only a month and a half away - I don't blame you if you want to stay with your parents til that time," Harry told her. Hermione turned even more red.
"Er, that's not what he meant, Harry…" She found it hard to make eye contact with either of the boys, so she concentrated on looking at her shoes.
Harry looked puzzled for a moment before realization dawned on his face, making him go red in face, too.
"Oh!" Harry managed.
Ron looked from one to the other in confusion, then he got it too.
"Oh! Oh God! This is something I DON'T want to hear!" He stormed off towards the kitchen. "You'll find me here when you're finished 'talking'!" he yelled back at them.
"Er," Harry cleared his throat. "I think I got everything packed, but you should check just in case I missed something."
"I'll be done in a minute, Harry. I'll meet you both in the kitchen."
It took her more than a minute, of course, but Harry was smarter than to point it out and thankfully Ron's mouth was stuffed with food - not that it had stopped him before, though. When she sat down next to Harry at the kitchen table Harry pulled out the present Fred and George had given him.
"What's that, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Just a present from Fred and George. They told me to open it in your and Ron's presence."
"Is that wise?" Hermione looked suspiciously at the box. "Have you checked it for explosives or the like?"
Harry grinned at her. He opened the box and found three golden bracelets with a thin metal tube attached to each. He pulled out a parchment with what he supposed was instructions.
'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'
Happy Birthday, Harry! We're proud to present to you the only set of Shielding bracelets in existence! They go on your wrist with the metal tube under your arm - it functions as a wand holder for when you don't need it and keeps it from accidentally breaking and other accidents. We're sure Ron will appreciate it! The wand will easily slide into your grasp when you need it from there and back when you don't. We made three of those - for each of you. You'll find your names on the inside of the bracelets.
Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'ŽŽ'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'Ž'
"They are geniuses!" Harry shook his head. He turned over the bracelets to check out the names engraved on each of them. The names were charmed too, he noticed. Each one periodically shifted from the name to something…different. "Hermione" to "Mind", "Harry" to "Heart" and "Ron" to "Ass". Ron shook his head and put his bracelet on to avoid looking at the inscription any longer. The moment he slapped it around his wrist it lost its golden shine and turned into a coppery red with "I'm a jerk" written in glowing letters on it.
"Gits. I think they didn't like the Levicorpus yesterday," Ron shook his head. He pulled out his wand and tapped the bracelet twice, returning it instantly to its golden form. "Let's see what they did to your bracelets," Ron turned towards Harry and Hermione who were now holding their bracelets with a bit hesitant looks. They put them on but unlike Ron's bracelet theirs didn't seem inclined to insult their owners.
"Well, that was a disappointment," Ron commented. "Those must be the only things they ever created that aren't enchanted to prank the users."
"I'm sure they're just afraid of what Hermione would do to them if they played a prank on her," Harry said. Meanwhile Hermione slid her wand into the metal tube where it remained securely until she made a small flick with her wrist - the wand immediately shot into her hand, ready for use.
"That's a really amazing thing they've invented," she agreed with Harry's earlier remark. "And its good they don't make more of those - in the wrong hands they could be pretty dangerous."
"Ok, are we done here?" Harry took a look around. Besides the box with three rats in it nothing in the house suggested he had ever lived there now - all his possessions were packed in his trunk. With a twinge of amusement he wondered what will happen to the Dursley's lawn, hedge and garden now that he wont be there taking care of it anymore and imagined his fat uncle and cousin trying to do it. He picked an old newspaper from the living room, tapped it with his wand and muttered 'Portus'. The newspaper glowed briefly, indicating the spell had worked.
"You know that's illegal, right?" Ron asked him in a matter-of-factly voice.
"Do we care?" Harry asked back.
"Nah. Not really." Ron shrugged and touched a pit of the newspaper with one hand, holding on to his trunk with the other. When Hermione did the same Harry gripped the handle of his trunk tighter.
"OK, here we go. One, two, three…"
After the familiar navel-jerking feeling they found themselves in the dark foyer of Grimmauld Place Number 12. The dark house looked as unwelcoming and cold as ever. Harry doubted anyone had been there since the time of Dumbledore's death - anyone human, at least. Who knows what had made its way inside since then - they really hadn't even finished cleaning the house before Sirius died and Harry doubted anyone had the time or will since then.
He raised his wand and flicked on the lights. Someone seemed to object to that rather loudly.
"Half-breeds! Mudbloods! Blood-traitors!" The portrait of Mrs. Black screamed with a crazed expression that made Harry wonder if she had been painted that way or was that just her usual expression. "Get out of my house! Out! Out!"
Getting thoroughly sick of the old hag and feeling a stab of pain in his heart because of the memories of a miserable Sirius in this house Harry raised his wand, pointed it at the portrait and concentrated very hard on one single thought.
'INCENDIO!'
The searing tongue of flame shot out from the tip of his wand and hit the portrait dead center. It burst into flames instantly, the roar of flames and shrieks of its inhabitant deafening them for a moment and then falling apart, the ashes drifting slowly to the floor.
"Anyone else has anything to add?" Harry turned to the others portraits with apparently saner occupants, because they all remained very quiet. Harry waved his wand at the ashes and the rather obvious scorch-mark, making them disappear. He turned back to his two companions. Ron's face was expressing amusement, Hermione's understanding.
"I think we should find for each of us a separate room then gather in the study room we once cleaned for a bit of planning," Harry told them. "We check out the house after that to see what we have, what we need and what we need to get rid of."
They spread out to search the house for usable rooms, leaving their trunks on the ground floor. Harry encouraged them to use as much light as possible and blast everything that tried to object. The old dark house was probably much brighter now than it had been in several decades. Harry noticed all kind of creatures and beings scatter and bolt for any remaining shadows through his stroll through the house. He decided that what he saw was harmless enough to let it remain until they found the time to deal with it.
He opened a random door and was quite surprised to find a suitable room behind it. Though he didn't see any personal items the layout of the furniture suggested it had belonged to a boy. It was big enough - about four times the size of his previous room at Privet Drive, he figured. He walked in to check out the room. He lay down on the bed and felt something hard pressing against his back. He threw back the old blanket and found a small silvery badge in bad need for some cleaning.
'What do you know? Dung must've missed this.'
He could barely make out the letters engraved on it, but the first one seemed to be R. and the last one B.
'So this must've belonged to Sirius's little brother,' Harry thought. 'Regulus Black was a prefect, then. Seems like Dumbledore just couldn't help it but appoint future Death Eaters as prefects. Hope Malfoy gets the same as he did.'
He pocketed the badge and got comfortable on the bed again. He hadn't planned on taking a nap but the bed was damn comfortable and he was quite full and a bit tired after his breakfast at the Burrow. He was awakened by a knock on the still open door. He lifted his head and saw Hermione stand in the doorway.
"So you're going to choose this one or are you going to sleep in every bed before you decide?" she teased him.
"Well "this one" feels nice, but its lacking something," Harry answered her.
"And what's that?" Hermione asked.
"You!" Harry's wand shot from its place in the metal tube into his hand and he immediately cast 'Mobilicorpus' on her making her fly through the air and fall down on the bed next to him. He pressed her down with his body weight when she tried to stand up. "So what do you think?" he grinned at her.
"Yes, if you ignore the idiot trying to hold you down it would probably be very comfortable indeed!" she told him, rolling her eyes. "I should look for a room that comes without one of those!"
"What, beds?"
"No! Idiots!" Hermione poked him in the ribs. "Now get off me!"
They got on their feet together. Harry took a last look around the room before making a decision.
"Yeah, I think I'll take this one. I suggest you take a look at the one next to it!" he winked at her.
"Why? Did you like that one too?" Hermione asked.
"No, I have no idea what it looks like," Harry grinned. "But if you do, we could add a secret door between the two rooms!"
Hermione gave an amused sniff walking out the door.
A few minutes later they were sitting in the study room and making plans.
"Right," Harry started. "So we know that there are a number of objects out there with pieces of Voldemort's soul in them. Salazar Slytherin's locket being one of them." He placed the fake locket he always carried around with him on the table along with the note.
"That particular piece of soul would have been sent to whichever Hell awaits him but for the fact that someone beat us to it. This R.A.B - we need to figure out who he was."
"Was?" Ron asked. "You sure he's dead, then?"
"Pretty certain, yes," Harry nodded. "If he would be alive he would have been out there trying to destroy other Horcruxes. But Dumbledore seemed rather convinced that no-one else knew about them - no-one alive, that is." Harry started to run his thumb over the small metal object in his pocket. "I need you to take a closer look at that note and tell me what yo think about it."
Hermione took the note and started studying it. After a few minutes she put the piece of paper down.
"Its not much to go on but we can definitely make a few assumptions based on it."
"Go on," Ron said, leaning back in his chair.
"There are a few things. First, this person has left us his initials - R.A.B. Second, he addressed this to Voldemort - the note says "To the Dark Lord"".
"But only his Death Eaters call him that," Harry interrupted suddenly, remembering saying that same thing to Snape once.
"Exactly," Hermione said. "So we can conclude that this R.A.B was a Death Eater once but either before or after discovering the Horcruxes got a death-mark on his head and most likely is now dead. However it leaves the fate of Slytherin's locket a mystery," she added. "Did he manage to destroy it before he died or not? If not, where is it now?"
"Well, if it's still around I pray to God its not in Gringotts," Ron said. "Bill told me about what kid of security measures they got in there when he taught me spells." He shuddered at the memory.
"Let's hope its somewhere more accessible," Harry nodded absentmindedly, still running his thumb over the Hogwarts prefect badge he had picked up earlier. He suddenly felt light-headed and his vision started to fill with the bright white fog again. Only this time it was more...concentrated? 'What the heck?' he thought. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. When he opened his eyes again his vision was back to normal.
"The problem is there were no published Death Eater yearbooks around last time I checked so how the heck are we going to find out who this R.A.B. was? What are we supposed to do? Should we capture us a Death Eater and interrogate him?" Ron wondered.
"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe we could ask Moody - he was auror back then and in the Order. Maybe he knows something." He sighed, looking at the Black family tree hanging on the wall, or rather at the scorch-mark where Sirius's name should have been.
'I wish Sirius was still here…He might have heard something in Azkaban,' he thought. His eyes drifted to the name next to the scorch-mark.
Harry froze when from the depths of his memory surfaced the scene with Sirius where he was showing Harry that same tapestry. He remembered Sirius telling him about his parents' agreement with Voldemort's pureblood ideology, how his brother had taken after them and gotten involved with Death Eaters - even joining them. And when he found out what Voldemort was really all about he had wanted out. He remembered Sirius telling him that with Voldemort "out" meant "carried out - feet first". He pulled his slightly shaking hand out of his pocket and looked at the badge he had found. He moved his thumb so only the first letters of the names were visible on it - R and B.
"It can't be that easy," he whispered. "No way…"
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Hermione asked him. Noticing that Harry had suddenly gone sickly white in his face she added in a concerned voice: "You OK, Harry?"
"You don't look good, mate," Ron agreed. "Maybe you should lie down for a moment?"
Instead of answering Harry jumped to his feet, kicking his chair back and bolted out of the room. He remembered now a certain heavy locket they had found in that same study room and that Sirius had thrown away - a locket he had seen again later in Dumbledore's pensive when they visited Mr. Ogden's memory! 'How come I didn't recognize it then and there?' Harry was mentally beating himself up. He pushed the thoughts about it away, deciding to grieve over his mistakes that had possibly led to Dumbledore's death later - when they had found and destroyed the damn thing.
'Sirius threw it away, but it's possible Kreacher picked it up and hid it in his den,' he thought as he ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. He ripped the door to Kreachers cupboard open and started to rummage through the things in there. He went through the stuff in less than a minute finding a lot of things that might have had great sentimental value to a Black, but to his horror not finding a single piece that had any monetary value at all. Harry swallowed the bitter lump rising in his throat and ran back up the stairs to the study room.
"What? Couldn't find the bathroom?" Ron grinned at him when he got back.
Without paying any attention to his two friends Harry ran straight to the desk and started ripping out drawers.
"Don't tell me - we've ran out of paper?" Ron asked him a moment later, joining him at the desk.
"Shush, Ron!" a very annoyed Harry replied. When he couldn't find anything in the drawers he proceeded to pulling open all the cabinet doors. 'Damn! Nothing!' he thought, growing more desperate and horrified with every empty drawer and shelf. And he felt anger rising in him, too. Finally he reached the final cabinet and pulled it open. 'Empty!'
"Why, Mrs. Figg? Why?" Harry moaned.
Ron and Hermione shared a confused look, neither having an explanation for Harry's sudden unexplained behavior.
"Why what?" Ron blurted out the question.
With a roar Harry suddenly ripped the small cabinet off the wall and threw it against the opposite wall where it shattered into a pile of firewood.
"WHY DIDN'T SHE MURDER MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER!" he yelled.
"Dung?" Ron asked. "What does this have to do with Dung?"
Harry pulled the prefect badge out of his pocket and showed it to them, then covered the name again so that only the first letters were visible.
"Oh no!" Hermione squeaked when she understood, the feeling of terror Harry had felt before now showing on her face.
Ron stared at the badge for a moment before his eyes popped wide open.
"Dung, you idiot!" he groaned. "What have you done!"
Harry was pacing the room, waves of anger rolling off him and somehow making the objects he had thrown on the floor during his hasty search bounce and tremble.
"We gotta find him! And fast!" he growled, the sound making the hair on the neck of his two companions stand up. It was like being locked in a small room with a very angry lion - and without a wand, at that.
"How are we supposed to find him?" Hermione groaned, twisting her hands nervously. "He's a sneak and very good at hiding, isn't he? Didn't even Dumbledore have trouble finding him? And after what you did to him in Hogsmeade I don't think he's really anxious to meet and shake hands with you."
Harry stopped in his tracks and kicked his brain into overdrive trying to come up with a plan. He smiled when one popped up in his head almost instantly.
"It's quite easy, actually," he grinned in a sort of murderous way.
"Easy?" Ron eyed him like he had grown an extra head.
"Easy," Harry nodded. "Remember why he was in the Order to begin with?"
"Because he had connections?" Hermione offered a guess. "Because he knew all the other sneaks, being one himself?"
"Right," Harry grinned. "And we're going to use those connections to get to him."
Five minutes later they were standing in the study room again, dressed in dark hooded cloaks for some sneak hunting. Harry took hold of their hands and apparated them all to the Diagon Alley.
"So where do we go from here?" Ron asked.
"I want you to go to your brothers' shop, we'll come there in about fifteen minutes, too. Ask them if they still do business with Dung and if they do, how do they contact him," Harry instructed him. "I'll go with Mione to look for street merchants like the one we spotted selling fake talismans last year. Some of them should know where to find Dung. I hope your Dad hasn't done too good of a job rounding them up."
"Don't worry," Ron grinned. "Dad says they're like gnomes - throw one away and two come back." He gave them a nod and took off towards the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"So what do we do?" Hermione asked him, eying the almost empty street nervously.
"We split up and wander the streets looking for sneaks, Mione. Just try to stay away from Knockturn Alley, OK?" He gave her a kiss. "And if by a chance you happen to run into Dung, please, do hex him!" He turned around and with a pop was gone.
Harry apparated right to the Knockturn Alley. 'If there are any shady deals going on this is where they happen,' he thought. He wandered the narrow street, peering through the dark and dusty shop windows. He wasn't holding his hand but he sure as hell was ready to call it to his hand any moment he might need it.
He noticed one shady character selling something half-way through the street. Pulling his cloak tighter around him he walked towards the man. When he got closer he saw that the man was selling small things that looked like time-turners.
"'ere, young man!" the man whispered to him. "Would you be interested in a personal time-turner? Only one hundred Galleons apiece! Very useful in these troubled times!"
"Pray tell me what use would I have for a collection of transfigured garbage?" Harry did his best impression of a "Malfoy sneer".
The vendor went bug-eyed, gaping at him with open mouth.
"I-I-I..I'm terribly sorry, young sir! I had no idea! I swear I'm gonna punish the bastard who sold 'em to me!" He glanced left and right nervously. "Er, how did young sir know, if I may ask?"
"You think I'm an idiot?" Harry pulled an insulted expression. "Where would someone like you would get his hands on time turners? Hah! Next you'll be selling me the finest fifteenth-century goblin-made silverware! I think my Galleons would be better spent in a place like Borgin and Burke's." He turned to walk away, hoping the man had swallowed the bait, the hook and the entire line with it.
"'Ere, young sir! I just might know the right man to see about that for a price!" Harry wanted to jump around and dance from happiness.
'Thank Merlin for idiots like that!' he thought, arranging his face into a doubtful expression and turning back to the man with fake time turners. He thought that since last year he had gotten rather good at…manipulating people, thinking back to the day he had manipulated Hermione into thinking he had spiked Ron's drink.
"And who might that "right man" be?" he asked.
"A business associate of mine," the man grinned, showing his teeth that rather reminded Harry of a chessboard. "He had a bit o' luck recently and inherited some rather exquisite silverware. If ye be interested, for a price I could give you information on how to get in touch with him!"
'I think that's all I needed to know," Harry thought to himself, feeling his anger rising again. 'Inherited, huh? We'll see about that.'
"So yer interested, then?" the man took Harry's narrowed eyes as an expression of interest and not anger. "I think for the price of ACK!"
The last part was caused by Harry's hand that had suddenly closed around his throat and closed off all airflow to his lungs. Harry stepped forward quickly, pressing the man against the wall and banging his head against it once. The man clawed helplessly at the hand around his throat but it felt more like steel than flesh. He thought how strange it was that a wiry teenager could render him helpless so easily.
"Now I want to hear where Dung is hiding or it's AK for you, comprende?" Harry hissed into his ear.
"You can't!" the man managed to gag. "You'll end up in Azkaban!"
Harry flashed a small silvery object in front of his eyes. The man could barely make out it's shape.
"See this? Special permission from the Ministry to the Chosen One. Basically allows me to AK as many people as I want if at the end of the day Voldemort is one of them. A so-called license to kill, if you want," Harry whispered. "So what's it gonna be- my way or the AK?"
"I'll tell ya! I'll tell ya!" the man tried to say as loudly as he could with his limited air supply and constricted vocal cords.
"Smart. You must've been a Ravenclaw," Harry loosened his hold a bit.
A few minutes later he was in the twins joke shop, beaming at his friends when he told them that he knew where Mundungus was hiding.
"Blimey! How'd you get that information, Harry?" Ron was amazed. "Fred and George just told me how hard it usually is to get in touch with Dung."
"Oh, well…Used a bit of my intimidation skills."
"Huh?" Ron looked at him doubtfully. "No offense, mate, but you're just a seventeen year old kid. What the hell did you do to scare that information out of someone? Or are you a Legilimens?"
"I'd love to discuss this, Ron, but right now we have to go nab Dung before he disappears. So this is what I want you two to do…"
When Mundungus Fletcher heard the "costumer" sequence knocked against his door he smiled widely. Business was rather good lately with what he had gotten from the former Headquarter of the Order. His conscience wasn't giving him too much of a hard time over it - Sirius had never cared about the stuff and the boy was certainly rich enough not to miss a few things, he thought. He would probably soon forget all about it and the rather embarrassing episode in Hogsmeade.
Dung opened the door to allow a tall costumer in dark cloak in. He wasn't really surprised or suspicious about the cloak - most people when doing shady deals liked to keep their identity a secret. He closed the door and went to stand on the other side of the metal table that served as his counter.
"So what can I get you, sir?" he asked in a jovial tone.
"A birthday present would be nice…" the tall costumer replied in a somewhat familiar voice. Dung's sneak sense started tingling. You won't stay in business as a sneak for long without developing the sneak sense - or the sense to cut and run in other words.
"If you got me a certain golden locket that can't be opened I'd be very happy," the visitor continued. Then he raised his hands and pulled back the hood. Dung's heart gave a painful jolt when he recognized one Harry Potter. "And if you'd throw in everything else you stole from Sirius' house - which now happens to belong to me - I'd be positively ecstatic."
The boy's voice sent shivers racing along his non-existent spine and Dung did what he was good at - getting away. He did a quick half-turn and there was a loud bang - and Dung reappeared, plastered against the left wall of the room.
"That's the Anti-Disapparating Jinx if you're wondering what happened," Harry explained in a cold tone.
Dung shoved a hand in his pocket and grasped a certain coin in there. With a jerk he started to move, only to find himself knocked against the opposite wall.
"Ah, that must be the Portkey Blocker we set around the house," Harry mentioned. "And I really wouldn't try Floo powder if I were you," Harry added when Dung's eyes shifted to the fireplace at the far wall. "Or run through the door, for that matter. There are some people out there and none of them are very happy with you at the moment."
"What do you want then, Harry?" Dung asked him, feeling rather embarrassed about being cornered by a seventeen-year old.
"The first thing I told you!" Harry shouted, slamming his fist down on the metal table. "I want the stuff you nicked from Headquarter back, especially the golden locket!"
Dung swallowed hard and started to sweat when he noticed a new dent on his table where Harry had hit it. It was a rather thick metal table, he remembered.
"Allright, you'll get the stuff back!" he said. "Sheesh! I didn't know you were so emotionally attached to the stuff!"
"Good. Now would be a good time, if you please," Harry seemed to calm down. He opened the door to let two more figures in dark cloaks enter the room. They threw back their hoods after closing the door and Mundungus recognized Harry's two friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
"Hey, Ron!" Dung merrily greeted the young Weasley, thinking that with the twin's brother here Potter would be less intimidating. So he was a bit shaken when he noticed Ron giving him a glare like a hungry tiger trying to decide if he was edible enough to pounce on and eat. "Er, good to see you, Hermione!" he nervously turned to Hermione. He wished rather soon that he hadn't when Hermione started to vent her anger on him for stealing Harry's stuff. He genuinely wished he'd rather be with Molly Weasley than with the three kids - because those kids were seriously creeping him out.
"The stuff, Dung," Harry reminded him when Hermione paused to take a breath. "The locket."
"Uh, right, the stuff is all here," Mundungus said, pointing at a large trunk next to the table. Dung blanched white suddenly. "The bloody locket!"
"What?" All three kids turned to him at once.
"What about it, Dung?" Harry's eyes were boring into his skull.
"I, er, I think I sold it," Dung stammered.
Harry seemed to lose his balance for a moment. With a single glance at him Hermione retrieved her wand and conjured a chair and pressed Harry sitting in it. Harry felt rather light-headed - the room started to spin a bit and seemed full of the swirling white fog again.
"Sold it?" he gasped. "To whom?"
"He said he needed a birthday present for his mother, well, and it looked rather fitting," Dung stalled for time, hoping for divine intervention.
"TO WHOM, DUNG!" Harry roared, getting up suddenly.
"T-t-t-t-to Draco Malfoy!" Dung gasped.
You could actually hear the neutrons zoom around the atoms in the silence that followed. The three kids looked at him with expressions like he was Lord Voldemort himself standing in front of them.
"To Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling the taste of bile rising in his throat. "You sold it to Malfoy?"
"Yes, he needed a birthday present for his mother, but we couldn't get it open so he…" Dung stopped, realizing he was just digging a deeper grave for himself.
"So he what?" Harry pressed on. He already felt that it could only get worse. He wasn't disappointed.
"So he said he would take it to Borgin and Burke's to get it fixed," Dung finished.
A/N: I hope you liked what you read! And I hope the book doesn't sound too much like a "deus ex machina". I might have filled Harry's head with some strange stuff, but...you'll see.