The week passed quickly, with Harry having spent much of it practicing the three spells he had learned from the scroll he had received anonymously. He could see why they were considered to be sort of like family heirlooms to the sender, as, if used in the right situation, they could save lives.
The first was, at heart, a wall that could be expanded to fit into almost any hallway. Its main purpose was to serve as a makeshift blockade that would prevent anyone who was chasing the caster from following him further. While it was enchanted to block curses as well, it could not stop higher-level spells, including the Killing Curse. Despite its shortcomings, it would still provide him with an extra few seconds in an escape situation, and for that reason alone Harry practiced until he could reproduce it consistently.
Second, called Stonemason's Charm, was more difficult, as it required him to concentrate on the Charm for a prolonged amount of time. It gave him the ability to bring statues to life, bringing them under a control not unlike the Imperious curse. Unlike Imperious, however, it could not be used on humans and worked only on inanimate objects in the shape of creatures or people. Harry found that, while starting the Charm was easy enough, sustaining it was not, and it took him several tries before he was able to hold control for any amount of time.
The last curse was by far the most difficult of the three, but it was also Harry's favorite. When he spoke the incantation, a small tornado no taller than ten feet would be summoned, taking and throwing anything that came into its path. While it was not worth using against lone Death Eaters, Harry envisioned its use against concentrated groups in closed corridors. He knew that it would be an important spell to know when outnumbered, and worked especially hard on mastering it.
All and all, he spent much of the time in the training room in Grimmauld Place than anywhere else, as besides the usual comings and goings of Order members, only Hermione and Ron were with him, and there was very little the three of them could do together until the school year began.
More than that, Ron and Hermione's friendship had not mended...indeed, Harry sometimes wondered if there had been progress at all. When Harry and Ron were alone, things couldn't have been any more normal. Ron still cracked jokes - even bad ones - and still beat Harry in wizard's chess, and never hesitated to point out where Harry had gone wrong. If Hermione had come in, however, Ron's mood would suddenly change, and his jokes would vanish. Of course, they still argued, but there was none of the slight playfulness that was there before, and Harry felt more obliged to step in during some of these rows.
And it didn't help that, during some nights, Harry would wake up with his scar blazing. After a few minutes and a splash of cold water, the pain would fade, but that did not the new worry he was beginning to have. He had been dreaming of Hermione during those nights, and while those dreams had undoubtedly stopped Voldemort from invading his mind, they were also giving him a target. Something that, above all, Harry did not want Voldemort to have.
He had told Hermione of the dreams, and she had told him that Voldemort wasn't enough to scare her away. But damn it, he thought, that didn't do anything for her security. He was suddenly very grateful for Dumbledore's foresight to put her parents outside of Voldemort's reach.
So, when the time came around to go to Diagon Alley to pick up their new books, Harry was thankful for the break away from the stagnant corridors of Grimmauld Place.
The prepared themselves to leave early afternoon, and when Lupin asked where they were going, Harry told him.
"You three are going alone?" asked Lupin, turning away from the Daily Prophet to look at Harry. "Well, you're all old enough, that's for sure. You mind if I come along though? I have a stop by the Apothecary that I've been meaning to make."
"Sure," said Harry.
"Have you already performed the charms for protection against disease?" asked Lupin. "Diagon Alley still hasn't been hit with the plague yet, but there's no point in taking risks." He stood up and tapped his wrist with his wand.
"You mean that'll protect us against the plague?" Hermione said. "I thought we didn't know how the plague spreads."
"We don't," said Lupin grimly. "But a disease protection charm couldn't hurt."
After Lupin had performed the charm on the three of them, they each threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and warped into The Leaky Cauldron. Harry was the last to arrive, and when he did, he was momentarily confused. The place was barren, and he was beginning to think that it was closed when Tom appeared.
"Tom, what's happened?" Lupin asked. Harry exchanged looks with Hermione and Ron, feeling uncomfortable. The place felt very strange without the usual din of clattering plates, loud voices, and the occasional squeaking of a barstool.
"Ah, you didn't hear?" said Tom, going behind the bartender's table. "One wizard walks out of here, and two hours later drops dead of plague. The news went around like wildfire, and people started clearing out of here, saying this place hosts the plague. I've been around here by myself for two days now and haven't gotten so much as a cough. Everyone's become terrified, irrational, afraid that Diagon Alley is going to be hit. I swear, the waiting part is worse than the real thing." He sighed, shaking his head. "But then, there's nothing I can do about that. Can I offer you something to drink?"
Harry, more out of sympathy for Tom than actual thirst, bought them a round of drinks with what money he had left in his pocket. He had been needing to stop at Gringott's anyway.
"So you aren't planning to move out then?" Lupin asked, accepting a Butterbeer.
"No, of course not," said Tom. "Well, not yet, at any rate. After this war passes over, Diagon Alley will still be the place to have a business, and I'm not about to give up this bar."
"But won't it be...dangerous to stay around here?" said Hermione.
"It might be," said Tom. "But I figure it's safe for the meantime. A lot of folks have been keeping an eye out on the purebloods in Diagon Alley. A lot of them have connections to the Death Eaters, and when they start moving out, you know it's time for you to get out too. So as long as the purebloods are around, we're safe."
Harry finished his drink, thanked Tom, and then left, coming onto the main street of Diagon Alley. He had been slightly apprehensive, as it had been a year since he had last seen it, and, while it remained untouched by plague, he was not naive enough to believe that it remained unchanged.
Once outside he stared around blankly, the hairs on the back of his neck twisting as he saw that the street was practically empty. A few wizards were hurriedly walking from shop to shop, staying under the eaves, looking paranoid and afraid. Previously, Harry remembered stands that merchants had set outside their store advertising their goods, but no such stands existed now. The only prominent figures visible were two Aurors, and even they appeared wary of their surroundings.
"Everything looks closed," said Hermione.
"No, not closed," grunted Ron. "They're just staying inside. It was like this when I was at Fred and George's before."
They continued down the street towards Gringott's bank, getting a strange look from one Auror, and a slight nod from the other. Lupin nodded back.
Looking through the windows of the shops, Harry noticed that several were actually rather full with customers. He realized that they must be using the floo network in order to avoid walking along the main street.
Hermione, who must have been making the same observation, leaned close and whispered, "Why do you think they're all avoiding the main street?"
Harry shrugged, not quite able to understand that himself.
"They're all terrified," said Lupin, and Harry was surprised that he had overheard the question. "People are beginning to remember what happened during the first war."
Suddenly, Harry began feeling the full weight of the glass sphere he had kept wrapped in his pocket. He had brought Tenbrook's Sphere along, intending to deposit it into his vault, and was becoming more and more aware of his vulnerability. If the Death Eaters were to swarm Diagon Alley at that moment, there was a very good chance that they would be overwhelmed, and Tenbrook's Sphere would go as a prize to Voldemort.
At last, they arrived at the base of the marble steps leading into Gringott's bank. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that the bank, at least, was normal, and most wizards were not afraid to mingle in the cleared space before it. That was more than a little due, Harry suspected, to the two large security trolls with accompanying goblins that were flanking Gringott's massive entrance.
They were halfway up the steps when they were stopped by a rather stern-looking Goblin who wore something like an overcoat that was several sizes too large for him. It was thick and dyed deep purple, the fabric unidentifiable, with a gold badge over the breast.
"I am Ludwig," said the Goblin, bowing low. "Enforcer of Gringott's. I ask for a moment of your time before entering so that we can be sure that you carry no traces of plague."
They consented, and Ludwig began going over Ron with a long, comb-like instrument, carefully keeping it several inches away from Ron's body at all times, the whole procedure taking no more than a few seconds. When the Goblin finished, he moved on to Lupin, then Hermione, and finally Harry. He had only felt a slight warmth coming from the instrument before Ludwig withdrew it again, bowing as he retreated.
"I apologize for the inconvenience," said Ludwig. "You may continue."
They climbed the last of the stairs, receiving nothing more than a disinterested glance from one of the trolls the rest of the way.
"We can detect plague now?" Hermione asked Lupin. "I didn't know we could do that."
"We can't," said Lupin quietly. "Only the Goblins can, and they're not telling us how they do it."
"Why not?"
"I don't know," Lupin said. "I suppose they're using it as a bargaining chip in their negotiations with us. Bill would have a better idea why."
They entered the lobby, Harry then splitting off towards one of the free counters. The Goblin behind the counter, who was busily scribbling into an oversized logbook, looked up at him with one eye, then sighed and set his quill aside.
"Name?" the Goblin asked shortly.
"Harry Potter."
"Key?"
Harry drew it, and the Goblin barely glanced at it before returning his gaze to his logbook. He picked up his quill again. "Is that all?"
"Yes," said Harry, surprised at the Goblin's terse manner.
"Mungrub!" called the Goblin, and when his assistant finally arrived, he continued, "Take Mr. Potter to vault 687."
"Please follow me, Mr. Potter," said Mungrub, bowing once then turning to go to the back of the bank. Harry followed, looking around as he did so, noticing the new security measures that had been put in place.
Goblins with purple cloaks identical to the one Ludwig wore outside stood at various points along the walls like statues, all wearing grim expressions and quite unlike the reserve-minded Goblins that Harry had so far encountered. Suddenly it dawned on Harry that they were sentries; a Goblin counterpart to the ministry's Aurors. What had Ludwig called himself? An Enforcer…they were all Enforcers.
"This way, Mr. Potter," Mungrub said, leading Harry down a side corridor and to a track with a few spare carts waiting.
They went into the first one, and the Goblin warned him to hold on before they began barreling down the tracks at a speed Harry never quite got used to. A few sharp turns later Mungrub yanked on the hand brake, bringing the cart to a screeching halt and almost sending Harry flying forward.
"Ah, here we are," said Mungrub, lightly jumping from the cart. "Vault 687."
Harry left the cart a little more slowly, feeling a bit sick. Once out, he went to the vault's door and set the key into the lock, quickly turning it and swinging the door open.
He scarcely took a moment to look over his huge pile of wealth before stepping forward and scooping a couple handfuls of sickles and galleons into a pouch that he had brought along. Then, remembering, he drew the wrapped sphere from his robes, and slowly pulled away the covering silk cloth.
It was as clear and pure as he had remembered it, and, with some reluctance, he set Tenbrook's Sphere into a niche built into the vault specifically designed to hold rare artifacts.
He turned around, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of Mudgrub staring at him before the Goblin quickly looked away. Harry, now watching Mungrub from the corner of his eye, shoved the pouch of coins into the pocket of his robe and shut the vault door behind him. He went back into the cart, the Goblin followed him, and they returned to the main bank complex at the same breakneck pace as they had arrived.
"Thank you for doing business at Gringott's," said Mungrub once they had left the maze of vaults and were out of the cart. He bowed, but somehow Harry saw something mocking in it.
Looking Harry straight in the eye, Mungrub added, "We hope to see you again very soon."
Harry met up with Hermione, Ron and Lupin in the lobby, and they looked relieve to be able to go.
"They must've asked us three times whether we had business here," said Hermione. "It was like they wanted us to leave."
"And what's more," added Ron. "Is that Goblin over there has been watching us for the past five minutes." He motioned to the far corner, and, sure enough, a purple-robed Enforcer was staring at them intently.
"I don't remember Gringott's being this way," said Lupin. "But the war changes things. Everyone has become paranoid, even the Goblins. They're in charge of enormous amounts of gold, and can't afford to take risks."
They left the bank, ignoring the grunts of restless security trolls as they passed, and went across the small plaza and back onto the main street of Diagon Alley.
"So you deposited the artifact then?" Ron asked quietly.
"Yeah," said Harry, surprised Ron had noticed.
Ron shook his head. "That was a mistake." He stepped away, not saying anything more on the subject.
A short way down they came to Flourish And Blotts, and when they entered, a rush of noise hit them like a wall.
The store was packed with customers, and an active fireplace confirmed Harry's suspicion that they were going from shop to shop through the floo network. It was uncomfortably warm, especially since it was mid-August, but Harry figured it was just from the fireplace being used far more frequently than it normally was. He recognized several of his classmates, but, when he tried to call their names, he was drowned out by other, louder, voices.
"I'm going to stop at the Apothecary," said Lupin, speaking directly into Harry's ear. "I'll meet you there."
Harry, Hermione and Ron did their best to pick their way through the crowd, and, eventually, they reached the far end of the room where the press of people had thinned considerably.
Quickly they split up in search of the books on their list, and, after a few hectic minutes of trying to ease his way through the store, he managed to collect all but one of them. He looked through the Defense Against the Dark Arts section twice, but was unable to find Fundamentals of Necromancy. Soon, he was joined by Hermione and later Ron.
"Where is it?" Hermione said, frowning. "It should be right here." She pointed at an empty on the third shelf.
"You reckon they're out?" Ron asked Harry.
"They can't be," said Harry. "It's never happened before."
"Are you three in your seventh year of Hogwarts?" asked an assistant who had come up from behind. Her rimmed glasses and prim expression gave her a passing resemblance to Madam Pince.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Where are-"
"Right this way," she interrupted, and motioned them to follow her as she went through a back door into the storage room.
"Fundamentals of Necromancy, correct?" she asked. When they nodded, she continued, "I have no idea what possessed your professor to assign such a controversial - and not to mention strictly regulated - book, but we've been keeping all of the copies in the back room. We don't want to give any of our other customers that we deal in that sort of merchandise. Normally we wouldn't have it in stock, but as it's required reading in Hogwarts, we've made an exception."
When they came to a tall stack of books near the back of the room, she took three and passed them out.
They returned to the main store and stood in the long line at the counter. After they paid for their books, they left and continued to the Apothecary, enjoying the silence of the empty street.
When they arrived at the Apothecary, it was as bad as - or possibly even worse than - Flourish and Blotts. He caught site of Lupin in the back, and, rather than attempting to ease his way through the thick crowd, took a spare seat near the door and waited, letting Hermione go ahead and get her ingredients. Harry had plenty of ingredients leftover from the past several years, as Snape had a habit of declaring him a failure and wiping away his potion before Harry could use them all. Ron, who had stopped taking Potions last year, took the seat next to him.
"Finally, the ministry got one," said a wizard to himself. He was sitting next to Harry and reading a newspaper, obviously waiting for someone else. "It's about time, too."
"Don't be ridiculous," said the old witch next to him. Harry guessed that they were husband and wife. "The man wasn't even a Death Eater. Just a Necromancer. Not even worth worrying about nowadays."
Subtly, Harry leaned over and glanced at the headlines on the newspaper. He read: Necromancer Stuart Glasser to Face Wizengamot Trial. Underneath the headline was a picture of middle-aged wizard - no older than Lupin - with a very weary expression on his face. Occasionally, he would bring up his hands and crack his knuckles.
"Still, the world's better off without him," said the wizard gruffly. "It's just good to see the ministry hasn't been sitting on their hands this whole time."
"Hey, mate," said Ron, tapping on Harry's shoulder to get his attention. The noise almost filtered out his voice completely.
"Yeah?" said Harry, leaning away from the newspaper and turning towards Ron.
"I'm going to need a lot of your help this year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I think," said Ron. "I've been trying all summer to catch up, and still haven't gotten around to all the material from the last half of last year."
Harry nodded, remembering the memory wipe Ron had experienced near the end of his sixth year. It was a mixed blessing. While it had removed all traces of Dren's influence, it had also taken away much of the school year.
"That's not a problem," said Harry. "You know it's not." He paused, wondering why Ron had chosen this specific time to bring the subject up. "How have your other courses been going?"
Ron shook his head. "Not so good either, but I'll be able handle those."
"Ron," Harry started, beginning to realize why Ron had not mentioned it earlier. "Hermione would probably be able to help you a lot in the other classes-"
"I'll be all right in those," said Ron instantly. "No, really, I will. It's just Defense Against the Dark Arts that's been the problem…"
Harry raised an eyebrow, not quite believing that. If anything, Transfiguration had always been Ron's hardest subject. "You sure?"
"Yeah, of course," assured Ron. "I'm not planning to fail my last year at Hogwarts."
"Well, all right…" said Harry, though he remained unconvinced. Year after year, Ron had received help with almost all of his classes from Hermione, and Harry had trouble believing that this one would be any different. He shuddered to think of what his own grades would be like if Hermione wasn't around to check his work.
Soon after, Harry caught sight of Lupin and Hermione heading up to the counter with armfuls of ingredients, and, after they had both purchased them, they eased their way to the exit. Harry and Ron got up and followed them outside They began heading back towards The Leaky Cauldron, still very aware that the streets were nearly empty. The two Aurors, who didn't look like they had moved an inch, stood ever vigilant.
"I can't wait to open these books and see what we're going to be learning about this year," said Hermione, who held up her bag and looked inside. She began reading off the titles. "Exceptionally Excessive Arithmancy, Comprehensive Transfiguration, and More Charms Than You'll Ever Need to Know."
"You want to look through these with me later?" Hermione asked.
It was a general question, but Harry almost knew it was directed towards him. "Sure, why not?"
Hermione beamed at him. "After dinner, then."
Once they arrived at The Leaky Cauldron, Lupin gave out pinches of floo powder, and one by one they went through the fireplace. When it was Harry's turn, however, Lupin held him back.
"Harry, may I ask you a personal question?" Lupin said.
Harry, wondering what this might be entailing, slowly nodded.
"Forgive me for being obtuse," he began. "But I am fairly unclear about this. Are you and Hermione…together?"
Harry felt himself redden, but, confidently, he said, "Yeah, since the middle of last year about."
"Last year?" Lupin repeated, eyes wide. "I missed a lot then, didn't I?" He broke eye contact and seemed to stare into space for a moment.
"Yeah, well," said Harry awkwardly. "It wasn't really your fault." He remembered that, during a long stretch of time, Lupin had gone looking for creature. Eventually, he abandoned his quest, but it was apparent that he had never forgiven himself for what he saw as abandoning his best friend's son.
"Let's not rehash old arguments," said Lupin, smiling slightly and again meeting Harry's eyes. He looked younger; a smile seemed to suit him better than most people. "Sirius…James…they'd all be proud."
Harry, not knowing what to say, nodded. He didn't feel the sadness that the mention of Sirius' death used to bring. That void was full, though with what, Harry wasn't entirely sure.
"Go on," Lupin said, giving him a bit of floo powder. "I'll follow."
Harry tossed it into the flames, and then, saying "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he warped away.
OOOOO
"Now look at this," Hermione said, pointing to a section on the page. She was sitting crosslegged on the floor with the Fundamentals of Necromancy open in front of her. "It's talking about resurrecting the dead! No wonder this book was in the restricted section. Performing any of the curses or spells in this book would put you in Azkaban for years!"
"Mmmm," said Harry, barely aware of what was on the page. It was late evening, with Grimmauld Place mostly empty, and they had the room to themselves. He was sitting next to her, close enough to smell her perfume, and his mind was definitely not on the book. The invisible wire, which always seemed to be pulling him towards her, was pulling more strongly than ever.
"What's the point of it?" said Hermione. "You can really use any of the magic in this. Not unless you fancy a Wizengamot trial to be worth it. Why do you suppose our new professor assigned this book?" She looked towards him. "Harry?"
Harry, suddenly aware that an answer was expected of him, said quickly, "Err, yeah."
She gave him a crooked smile in return. "Have you even been following along?"
"Well...not really," Harry confessed. Then, somewhat slyly, he added, "It's difficult to concentrate on books with you."
"Nice try," said Hermione, though grinning all the same. "But it's not going to work. We need to look through our new books at least once before school begins." Then, returning her attentions to the book in front of her, she continued, "One thing that's strange about it is that some of the concepts are rather...old. I wonder when it was published..."
Harry moved closer to Hermione under the pretense of looking over her shoulder as she flipped to the front of the book. He brushed some of her hair back from her face with his hand.
Unwilling to be distracted, she read aloud, "Fundamentals of Necromancy, 5th edition, published 1134."
"Pretty old then," Harry said, still looking over her shoulder. He felt her shift her position a bit closer to him.
"The date would make sense," she said. "The last edition was made right before Necromancy was officially outlawed. I suppose they keep the books around for research purposes."
"Really? That seems a bit dangerous, doesn't it?" Harry said, then lightly he kissed her neck. He practically felt her shiver.
"I'm sure there are regulations," she said. "But, to return to the chapter..." She paused as Harry once again brushed her neck with his lips. "What chapter were we on again?"
"Who knows?" he whispered into her ear.
"I think- mmmmm..." She trailed off and closed her eyes, the book open on her lap.
"So what was all that about resurrections?" Harry asked, teasing her.
"Resurrections?" Hermione repeated, seemingly unaware of what Harry was referring to. "Oh, that's in chapter...mmmm...I don't remember too much of what we were reading."
"Same here," said Harry, and he let his hand trail from her shoulder to her side, feeling the heat under his touch through the clothes.
"I think we might've wasted our time earlier," said Hermione.
"Then let's make up for it."
Suddenly Hermione turned around and kissed him - gently at first, then more strongly. When they parted - Hermione to catch her breath - Harry kissed her, and she pulled him closer.
Soon the book was abandoned and Hermione was completely turned around, pushing him onto his back. He felt something heavy on his thigh, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the book.
"The, err-" He was about to get up to put the book aside, but Hermione had already taken it, practically throwing it out of the way. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Madam Pince would be disappointed."
Smirking, she climbed over him, and then leaned down to kiss him...deeply. Far more deeply than ever before. And, for
once, the invisible wire that was pulling him towards her was satisfied. One step away from completely merging was all
it took.