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The Kemmynadow Betrayal by jardyn39
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The Kemmynadow Betrayal

jardyn39

The Kemmynadow Betrayal

by Jardyn39

Chapter 4 - Friction

Harry stepped out of the fireplace into the Room of Requirement. It looked quite different now that it was his portal to gain entry to Hogwarts. Thanks to Professor McGonagall, the Room of Requirement now only admitted three people; himself, Ron and Hermione.

He fleetingly wondered where Professor Trelawney would be hiding her sherry bottles now she could not use the room.

The large circular room had seven large ornate fireplaces, all burning fiercely and looking large enough to allow three people to Floo at the same time. In the centre of the room stood a wooden table with a circular top with three plain chairs.

Between the fireplaces were rows upon rows of mostly empty shelves.

Seeing that there were a few books on one of the shelves, curiosity got the better of him and he went over to have a quick look.

Harry grinned as he reached out for a book he recognised. It was one of his favourites from the library and he realised he had been thinking about looking up the chapter on secrecy charm detection if he had time after seeing Professor McGonagall.

If the Room would provide anything they were thinking about as they Flooed in, he realised, this room would become a very useful resource.

He snorted to himself as he placed the heavy book back on its shelf. He'd have to warn Hermione of there'd be no room to step out into the room if the room provided all the books she happened to be thinking about.

Harry walked around the room looking at the fireplaces. Each was different but there was no indication that a fireplace could only be used to reach a specific destination.

Taking a small pinch from the generous supply in a pot that was next to an ornate white marble fireplace, Harry threw the powder into the flames.

Bright green flames roared up the flue as Harry stepped in and said loudly, "Professor McGonagall's office."

*

Harry stepped out of the fire into the large circular office that he had always known as Dumbledore's office.

The office was empty and checking his watch, Harry realised he was a few minutes early.

Not wishing to disturb the slumbering portraits, Harry moved quietly over to the window and looked out into the darkening sky.

"Albus?" said a gentle whisper.

Harry turned and saw that Dilys Derwent, who had been both a former Hogwarts Headmistress and a renowned Healer at St Mungos, kneeling next to the slumbering Dumbledore in his portrait.

"Don't disturb him," said Harry, seeing that Dumbledore was sleeping soundly.

Dilys turned and smiled at Harry.

"I tend to agree that we should let him rest," she said turning back, "but he was most insistent that I wake him when you arrived.

"I should warn you," she said, gently stroking Dumbledore's arm, "that it usually takes some time before we portraits can recall very much from our real lives. It is not at all unusual for a new portrait to sleep for months."

"Then let him sleep," pleaded Harry, approaching the portrait.

"Oh, there'll be trouble if I did that. All I wanted to warn you was that he won't remember much yet, and certainly he won't remember his passing. None of us can remember that."

Harry nodded as Dumbledore began to stir.

At last, Dumbledore opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He fixed his eyes on Harry and smiled warmly.

"Now, Albus, I've woken you as promised," said Dilys. "You are not to tire yourself out too much, and I would remind you that you agreed to behave and do as you're told from now on."

Dilys stood and winked at Harry before leaving Dumbledore's portrait.

Dumbledore drew his robes around him as if he felt the cold and said, "Cheer up, Harry. It really isn't so bad, you know?"

Harry tried to answer, but found his throat becoming constricted. He blinked back tears.

"I haven't felt so relaxed in years. As I cannot remember very much, there isn't anything to worry about," he added with a small chuckle.

Harry nodded and smiled as Dumbledore's eyelids began to droop.

Up close, Harry marvelled at the detail of Dumbledore's portrait. He supposed it was a reflection of how powerful he had been in life. Even the ghastly lifelike portrait of Sirius' mother was crude by comparison.

As Dumbledore fell once more into a deep sleep, it occurred to Harry that it had been years since he had seen him looking so well. The portrait didn't show him any younger, it was just that the lines of worry seemed to have eased.

Satisfied that Dumbledore was resting peacefully, Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall standing behind him.

"Will you join me for a walk, Harry?"

Harry smiled and nodded as they headed for the door.

*

Professor McGonagall opened the door to her old first floor office and beckoned Harry inside.

"I've been in the process of moving some things upstairs, but right now I find myself caught between two offices," she explained sitting down behind her desk. "Please, Harry, take a seat."

Harry nodded and sat opposite.

"As you have seen, Albus' portrait is making good progress, although it may be years before he recalls very much."

"I'm glad," said Harry at once. "He deserves a break."

"I tend to agree, but his memories would be very useful to us. Mind you, Dumbledore in life never set much store by following the example of others; so we may yet have him back sooner than we expect."

"I half expected Fawkes to be in the portrait with him," said Harry with half a laugh.

Professor McGonagall frowned and said, "Actually, so did I. Fawkes was just was one of the many things I didn't like to ask him about."

Harry smiled and said, "That's all I've been thinking about lately too. Well, I mean, what I wished I had asked him when I had the chance."

"Unfortunately, Harry, I fear your answers will come sooner than mine."

Harry frowned, wondering what Professor McGonagall meant by that.

"I wanted to see you for two reasons. The first concerns Professor Dumbledore's Last Will and Testament. The second concerns the wards on Grimmauld Place."

Harry sat up. He really wasn't interested in Dumbledore's Will, but he was very interested in the wards on Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione had trouble getting into Grimmauld Place this afternoon," said Harry. "I had to bring her inside using side-along Apparition."

"I didn't realise you had passed your test?"

"Um, I haven't yet, Professor," he admitted sheepishly. "It's just that it wasn't very convenient and then I heard that Rufus Scrimgeour had got upset about my not taking the test."

Professor McGonagall just rolled her eyes and Harry grinned at her.

"Anyway," she continued, "firstly I'd like to tell you about Albus' Will. He left most of his possessions and all of his property, money and investments to Hogwarts, to be used to assist pupils from poorer families. He himself was from such a background, you know? I believe the only non-second hand item he owned for his entire seven years here was his wand."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Albus owned very few possessions, but a small number of items have been gifted to you. His collection of dark detectors was given to Hogwarts, but you are to have full use of them through the Room of Requirement.

"Of course," she added with a smile, "I'd be surprised if you ever figure out how to use some of them. I'm sure most of them only produce amusing musical ditties anyway."

Harry snorted and nodded, remembering the strange silver contraptions that littered Dumbledore's office.

"Getting back to the items he left you, he left all of them with trusted acquaintances with instructions that they should deliver them to you. I suppose he didn't want to chance your not receiving them in the event that his Will was challenged."

"Was that likely?" Harry asked.

"It shouldn't have been, but we live in very uncertain times."

Harry nodded.

"Albus left one item with me. Knowing me as well as he did, he also left me a note reminding me of my promise to deliver it. You see, I was most reluctant to allow something so dangerous to pass into the possession of anyone so young."

Harry frowned, wondering what on earth it could be.

"When I became Deputy Headmistress," she continued a little shakily, "there was a little friction between us. It was nothing serious," she added quickly seeing Harry's surprised expression, "but I felt the timetables should be more fixed. Albus felt at the time that the curriculum was more important, and if a lesson wasn't at the same time and day each week then that really didn't matter."

"Wasn't that a bit confusing, though?" asked Harry.

"Well, of course it was. Hardly any of the students or staff knew where they were supposed to be half the time."

Harry laughed and McGonagall smiled.

"Yes," she agreed, "Dumbledore rather enjoyed the chaos that ensued. For a long time I was sure he was just winding me up. The problem with my objections was that the students were undoubtedly learning. They would find themselves in the most extraordinary situations. On more than one occasion, I had to go looking for my Transfiguration class in the Forbidden Forest. Those were less dangerous times, of course.

"Things came to a head when I insisted that I wanted complete control over timetables. As soon as Albus relented, everything was much more ordered and we got along much better."

Professor McGonagall took out a lace handkerchief and dabbed her nose with it.

"I regret to say that just recently, we began to argue once more."

"Was it about the amount of time he was spending away from here?"

"Oh no," she said taking a deep breath. "I fully understood that his priority was the defeat of Voldemort. That was in everybody's interest."

Harry nodded.

"No, we only argued about two things. One was Severus Snape, and the other was you, Harry."

"Me?"

"I was quite delighted when Albus told me that he was, at last, going to give you personal lessons last year. He wouldn't tell me exactly what you would be doing, but I accepted his assurances that they would greatly assist you.

"However, it became quite apparent to me as the year progressed that you were not, as I had assumed, learning advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"No," said Harry gently, "the lessons weren't about that. I was sceptical at first, but he was convinced that he could help me. I think he was right, although I must admit some advanced DADA would have been welcome too."

"In my own mind, I believe that Dumbledore was convinced that Snape was indeed teaching you to the best of your abilities. Snape kept telling him that you were barely able to keep up with classwork and that there was little point in attempting to teach you anything more advanced until you got the basics sorted."

Harry bristled with anger and indignation.

"Dumbledore knew you weren't that bad, Harry," she added quickly, "despite the low marks Snape was giving you. He didn't push Snape because he knew the enmity between you would just make things worse.

"I kept pointing out that Snape always managed to give you lower marks that you deserved for the entire time you studied Potions under him. That was obvious from the high marks that Professor Slughorn was giving you. It seemed to be clear evidence, if any were needed, that Snape was exaggerating how poor you were."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose softly and said thickly, "I feel I've let you down Harry."

"What?" Harry said in surprise. "No, of course you haven't!" he said a little more forcefully than he intended.

"Not only did I not persuade Albus that Snape had no grounds not to teach you more advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I also failed to step in and teach you myself. I threatened to do so several times, but Snape insisted that his authority would become undermined, even if it was only to satisfy myself that you were barely able to hold a wand properly."

Harry laughed and said, "You know, it does take me a while to learn how to do some things, Professor. Just ask Hermione!"

"Harry, this is serious."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but what's done is done. I'm really flattered that you should have argued for me, but you have nothing to blame yourself for, honestly. I didn't bother to learn any advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts last year, although I now feel I should have, obviously.

"You know?" Harry continued with half a frown, "it's actually quite interesting if Snape actually tried to block me having proper lessons. I wonder if he was ordered to do that or it was just his usual vindictiveness towards me?"

"I assumed that he had to have been ordered, actually. He was taking quite a risk defying Dumbledore like that."

Harry nodded slowly, considering this.

"Um, Professor?" Harry asked slowly. "What was it that Dumbledore wanted me to have?"

"Ah, yes," she said awkwardly. "I have been avoiding that, haven't I?"

Harry smiled at her warmly.

"Well, just to avoid it a little longer, I would like to offer you some additional tuition during the coming school year. I'm sure we can take your already considerable Defence Against the Dark Arts skills well beyond NEWT level with a little application."

Harry's face dropped.

"Actually, Professor," he began.

"You've decided not to return?" she finished with a smile.

Harry nodded.

"Yes, I suspected as much. Actually, it wouldn't be safe for you in regular lessons anyway. Just promise me you'll not completely forget that you still have a way to go. I would very much like to see you at a Graduation Ceremony, even if it cannot be with your peers."

"I'll remember," he promised quietly.

"Good. See that you do," she added shortly. "Now, my offer still stands. I will be pleased to teach you, although it will probably have to be restricted to evenings and weekends."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll let you know."

"Now, the reason why I believe your continued education is so important, is linked to the item I promised to give to you."

She picked up her wand and tapped one of the drawers of her desk. The drawer slid open noiselessly, and Professor McGonagall looked down apprehensively into the drawer as she placed her wand back down on the desk.

Harry had almost expected whatever was inside the drawer to jump out at her.

As the moment lengthened, Harry strained to see what was in the drawer. Of course, he didn't want to seem over eager, and that kept him from jumping up and having a decent look.

Just when he thought he couldn't bear the tension any more, Professor McGonagall reached into the drawer and took out a small, book shaped object and placed it between them on her desk.

In the better light that the desk lanterns provided, Harry could see that it was actually a carved piece of wood, stained almost black. He guessed it was about eight inches by five and about two inches thick. There was a recessed carving on the front that he couldn't see properly but there were runic symbols all around the sides.

"Have you seen one of these before, Harry?"

"No, I've no idea what it is," he admitted. "When you first brought it out I thought it was a book."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and said, "That is exactly what it is."

"Sorry?"

She smiled and said, "Paper books are relatively recent in wizarding terms, and are generally quite excellent for recording and transmitting knowledge and information. In older times, though, wizards needed something a little more durable and also something that was less easy for an unauthorised person to read. This was long before vanishing and concealment charms were perfected."

Harry nodded, staring down at the strange piece of timber, noting the deep splits in the grain.

"In my hands, this is little more than a block of solid wood," she said picking it up and showing him that it was indeed a single piece of timber. "However, in your hands, it will open."

Harry held out his hands in anticipation.

"Harry, may I ask you not to open this yet? I know this must be frustrating, to say the least, but I feel I should explain something about it first."

She handed it to Harry and as soon as her fingers left the surface, the end grains split silently and Harry felt the two halves ready to open, just like a book. He placed it down on the desk and as soon as his fingers left the surface, it again rejoined to form one piece of wood.

When she had his attention again, Professor McGonagall continued.

"All those years go, when Voldemort appeared to have been defeated, you really can't imagine the celebrations that took place. Gradually, the celebrations were replaced by a new sense of purpose. Almost everybody, myself included, was quite determined to make the most of the life that you granted us.

"Even Professor Dumbledore began his great work. He began to write a series of books on his favourite subjects that were sure to become the standard texts for decades to come.

"In the beginning, he worked tirelessly. Of course, after only a few months he began to receive reports about the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Knowing the threat continued, he all but abandoned what should have been the very pinnacle of his life's work.

"I do not know what became of his drafts, but in front of you is a volume in which he recorded some things that he was determined should never be published in any form."

Harry stared down at the carved object before him.

"Dark magic," Harry said simply.

"The very darkest. Dumbledore stopped contributing to this volume many years ago. Even so, the book before you is a reference to rival even the darkest library. You see, Dumbledore investigated and catalogued every single instance of dark magic used against him. Unfortunately, that list was somewhat extensive.

"Dumbledore perfected many of the counter hexes and magical defences in common use today, although he rarely took credit for them. He was rather good at refining defences. Most other wizards were dead before they got it right."

Harry sighed.

"What are your main concerns with my having access to this book, Professor?" he asked.

"Where to begin?" she asked. "I suppose my main concern, when Dumbledore handed that book to me, was that you are rather good at picking up Defensive spells. You have an aptitude, Harry, there's no point in being modest," she added in response to his shaking head.

"There were the most extraordinary rumours about you being a new Dark Lord going around a few years ago. I must admit, it occurred to me that a Dark Lord equipped with this book would be very dark indeed.

"However," she added forcefully, "I have since modified my opinion. I do not believe you will become a new Dark Lord, Harry."

"Thanks," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"No, I fear that you might well kill and maim far more people by accident when learning to use these spells; perhaps even while learning not to use them."

Harry was about to protest when he remembered that he had used the Sectumsempra spell on Draco Malfoy without knowing what it did. He'd also hoisted Ron using the Levicorpus spell with no idea what it would do.

He nodded slowly.

"Harry, who do you know that is closest to you in defensive ability?"

"Hermione," Harry said at once. "She knows just as many defensive spells as me, but I'm usually a bit quicker, that's all."

"You need a practice partner that you can trust and can rival your skills as well as keep pace with you."

"Hermione might not want to learn Dark Magic, Professor."

"She might like to learn the defences that this book can provide; well, until you learn some restraint, at least."

"I'll ask her, Professor."

"I'd recommend that Mr Weasley also learns some of these defences, but he should not learn directly from this book. Teach him yourself but don't be too hard on him when he struggles with some of the more advanced work. It will be slower but much safer for him."

"I will, Professor."

"Good. Oh yes, Alastor Moody also offered to assist with you with your defensive training. He has a vast amount of experience, as you know. However, he isn't as fast as he was. I wondered privately whether he would be better placed to assess your progress rather than train you personally."

"I'll consider that. Please thank him for his offer, though."

"Now," she continued, "there are undoubtedly some minor but still rather nasty little hexes in there, as well. You must remember that the more you use them, the more likely it will become that less able wizards and witches will pick them up."

"Wizards and witches still at school, you mean?" Harry asked and failed entirely in his attempt to stop himself grinning.

"Indeed."

"Professor, weren't you tempted just to forget to give me this?" suggested Harry, "Or even just destroy it?"

"I might have been tempted," she admitted with a small smile, "but I happen to know that one of the unique effects of the Kemmynadow is that such objects cannot be destroyed until handed to the benefactor. It isn't possible to lose it, as it would simply come back. If I were to give it to someone to take away, it would vanish and reappear before me."

Harry frowned. He vaguely remembered something about the word "Kemmynadow." He couldn't quite recall where from, though.

"That object before you," she said, "is actually the Kemmynadow, to use the ancient name for it. It is magically linked to the other items in your bequest and the trustees who currently hold the items. This is where Dumbledore placed his curses designed to attack those that attempt to betray the terms he set down.

"Obviously, because I held the object where the actual Kemmynadow curse is held, there wasn't any point in giving it any additional protections. As the other items come to you, there will be some form of charm that releases the holder from their obligation and places responsibility upon you.

"I've never actually seen the Kemmynadow in use, however. Perhaps this book will help you, but I must warn you that the curse could act against you in the event that you fail to honour Dumbledore's wishes yourself.

"I do know, however, that the effects of the Kemmynadow curse increase with time. If someone were to hold onto an item for too long, the retribution that book would bring would be significant. I cannot say whether it would be safer to accept or refuse an item then. Either way I suspect there will be dangers.

"Now, open the book and I'll show you how to peruse the contents."