Chapter Four - Return to Number Twelve
Grimmauld Place had never been the most welcoming place even in the brightest of daylight, so it was positively unsettling by night. The little square in which the house sat was as run-down and filthy as Harry remembered it; a small patch of weed-strewn grass at the centre was encircled by an array of discarded chip papers, beer cans and other assorted litter. Underneath a graffiti-daubed wall at the far side of the square a metal bin crackled with a fire lit inside while pounding club music spewed from one of the many part-derelict houses around the place.
Clutching his wand tightly inside his cloak, Harry stole across the square casting nervous glances in all directions. Number Twelve's shining serpent door knocker glinted in the dirty orange neon of the streetlight. He thought about knocking, wondering who would be inside to open up, and whether they would allow him in. He decided that, as it was his property, he didn't really care what they thought and reached for the knocker anyway. As he did, a sudden fizzing noise held his actions. He looked down to see a handsome brass case materialise out of thin air next to the twisted serpent.
Harry looked at it for some time. The contrast of the case to the Dark Arts preference of the house was not lost on Harry. He considered for a moment that it might be trap; perhaps, now that Dumbledore had died, the attributes which had made the house so appealing as a Headquarters were no longer in place. Was it still Unplottable? Was the Fidelius Charm now defunct as its caster was no longer living? Harry remembered that Sirius had once told him that most of the charms had been put on by his security-conscious father and that Dumbledore wouldn't have had any effect on them. But what about the Fidelius, Harry thought. What if this house is a trap waiting for me? He realised then that the Order of the Phoenix must have a new leader, that although Dumbledore had been Secret Keeper that he surely couldn't have performed the charm on himself. Which led Harry to wonder who had cast the charm, and who they had approached to take it over in Dumbledore's stead.
Harry looked at the case and saw a small clasp holding a clear lid in place. Reaching down he unhooked the clasp and lifted the lid. Immediately, a shot of flame flew out of the box and when it died it left a piece of parchment floating in the air. Harry caught it, unfurled it quickly and read. The tight, loopy writing was undeniably familiar.
`Hello, Harry. If you are reading this it can only mean that I have perished. I have placed this charm upon the door in readiness for this very event. It is a sign of my growing age that I had to steal an old idea of mine and re-work it. Novel ideas have been at a premium for me lately. You may remember in your first Hogwarts year that I performed a spell upon the Mirror Of Erised that allowed me to successfully hide the Philosopher's Stone to any but those who wished to find it but not use it. The spell I cast here is rather similar, except that this message could only appear to you and that only if you agree to the request within can anyone but you enter the house.
`The request is thus: as master of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix you are automatically a member of the group. As we have established, I must be dead and the Fidelius Charm performed on me must also be dead. But here's where one of my most brilliant ideas has found a second use. This parchment contains a dormant Fidelius Charm as I used Fawkes flame to conceal it within the door. If you enter the house with the parchment then the charm will be awoken. If you burn it with your wand it will be passed onto you. I could think of no other who would be more trusted with such a secret as the one I have carried. If you choose to destroy the parchment outside or dispose of it before entering then the charm will void and the enemy will find us. It is, of course, a choice I leave to you.
Your Eternal Friend,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. to open the door merely tap it with your wand, it will open if it deems you to be a friend.
Harry was in no doubt about what to do. Folding the parchment carefully he took out his wand and tapped on the door as he had once seen Remus Lupin do. Harry heard the clicking and chinking of unlocking locks on the other side of the door. When these died down he pushed the door slowly open and moved inside. The corridor was pitch black, not a light in sight. Harry closed the door quietly, throwing himself into total blackness. He lit his wand and moved carefully forwards.
Keeping to the left hand side so as to avoid the trolls leg umbrella stand, Harry inched his way along the passage until he reached the door leading down to the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet and Harry was uneasy in the darkness. It was with a sharp pang of pity that he imagined what it must have been like for Sirius living here for a whole year on his own. No wonder he was so desperate to get out.
Harry edged down the narrow stone steps and into the kitchen. It was deserted and Harry wondered why he had expected anything different. There had been activity lately, though just how recent was impossible to tell. Harry bent down and lit a fire in the grate, sending a flickering orange light over the room. He remembered there being candles in one of the drawers and spent a good few minutes fishing them out and placing them in the candelabra on the table. After lighting these the kitchen was fairly well illuminated, though Harry doubted any amount of light could make up for the dirty, dingy nature of the place.
Harry took off his cloak and threw it over one of the chairs. The table still had several plates around it and Harry felt a bit peckish at the sight of them, wistfully thinking of the unfinished sandwiches and Pumpkin Pie left in the attic room at the Burrow. He wondered if Hermione had woken yet and realised he was gone and, if she had, how close she was to coming after him. He chuckled to himself and moved to the pantry.
There was a surprising amount of food there and Harry gathered up some bread and things to make himself a late snack. He also found a good stock of Butterbeer and took a few bottles with him to make a night if it. He didn't expect that he would sleep much, especially as it was the first time he had ever slept somewhere on his own. Despite his age, Harry felt rather nervous at the prospect.
He supposed this was due to the silence, and not just in the noise sense. Harry had always been aware of a kind of energy that came from being around people, a lingering presence that told you that you weren't alone. Harry was used to that from Hogwarts but also from the Burrow and even Privet Drive. He had never gone to sleep in a place he wasn't sharing with at least three other souls, and it was this sort of silence which was unsettling him.
He set about making his sandwich, amusing himself that the door would knock any moment bringing a white-faced Hermione or an assorted number of Order members to clamour for his attention. No such thing was forthcoming, however, so Harry settled himself down at the table and cracked open a Butterbeer. He read from the scattering of papers still on the table as he ate, looking at various maps and notes and plans. Some were old, including a rota of who was to guard Harry at various times; others were newer and contained names of suspected Death Eaters who were being watched. One, in a distinct swirly hand, had just one word: locket.
At the sight of Dumbledore's writing Harry's mind jogged itself. He reached inside his cloak and took out the parchment. He read it once more before placing the tip of his wand to it and setting it alight. It burned down to his fingers but he didn't feel any heat as it reached them and as the last part curled as turned to ash Harry felt a strange feeling inside, as though he'd just swallowed a block of ice. This, he assumed, was the completion of the charm and that he was now a Secret Keeper.
Harry thought about the other members of the Order, what they had made of being kept out of HQ and if they had tried to appoint other Secret Keeper after Dumbledore's death and if they knew why it couldn't have worked. Scanning over the other bits of paper and parchment Harry saw that it was mostly boring things with nothing much worthy of note. Finishing his sandwich, Harry cleaned up the plates and dropped them into the sink before tidying the papers and leaving them on a stool near the cupboard where the plates were kept. He decided that his first task in residence at this place would be to brighten it up and he was thinking about interior decorating prospects when he sat down and slowly drifted off to sleep.
* * *
A shaft of pale sunlight awoke Harry the next morning. He was stiff from sleeping on a wooden chair and his neck ached as he lifted it from his chest. Yawning widely, he got up and threw the remains of Butterbeer from his bottle down the drain. He pointed his wand at the sink and performed the `Scourgify' charm, sending hot water streaming from the tap and setting a scrubbing brush hard to work on the plates.
Harry made his way back up to the hall and noticed that someone had encased Mrs Black's portrait in a cupboard, the door to which was laced with so many locks that it might have been guarding treasure. Harry looked at the moth-eaten carpet and decided that it would have to go. He was happy to notice that the mounted elf heads had been taken down and that all the furniture on the landing had also been removed. Harry continued his appraisal in the drawing room, which was bare save for a cabinet in one corner and a writing desk that had once contained a boggart. All other things, including the sofa and the curtains, had been removed.
As Harry visited every room he saw pattern emerge. The place had been made to feel less like a house and more like a sombre work space, which, Harry reminded himself, was probably the point. Still, if this was to become his home then it would have to be made to feel like one. Harry was having rare thoughts of creativity considering what he could to with the place and thinking how he could fit re-decorating around fighting Voldemort.
The knock he had been expecting came at a little after nine. Harry opened the door expecting Hermione to launch into a rant about how he dared to leave in the way he had. He was quite surprised, then, when instead of Hermione he found Remus Lupin standing in the doorway (he was not yet comfortable enough to call it `my doorway').
`Good morning, Harry,' said Lupin pleasantly.
`Professor,' said Harry. `What are you doing here?'
`Perhaps we can discuss it inside,' Lupin said. `It might be best to be out of sight.'
`Oh yeah, of course,' said Harry. `Come in.'
Harry stepped aside and allowed Lupin to pass before following him in. They made their way to the kitchen where Lupin shed his coat and sat down. He looked as ragged and threadbare as ever and Harry had a fleeting thought about what state the moon was in at the moment. Lupin, as always, looked like he could use a few square meals and a needle and thread. But his face was its usual warm self and he smiled at Harry as he sat down.
`I see you've become domesticated,' said Lupin looking around at the clean plates and the stacked papers.
`Yeah, well it was a bit messy,' said Harry.
`You're probably wondering how I know you're here,' said Lupin. `Indeed, you've already asked me why I'm here and I've been a bit rude by not answering.'
`I was wondering about it,' said Harry. `You haven't been to the Burrow, have you?'
`The Burrow?' said Lupin. `No, not recently. Why? Have you left word there?'
`Um, not really.'
`Tell me that someone knows you're here, Harry?'
`I mentioned it to Hermione,' said Harry. `But I didn't tell her when I was planning to come.'
`Really, Harry, you astound me,' said Lupin disapprovingly. `You would have thought, especially in these times, that you would take a little more care with yourself. Your importance deserves more consideration than this.'
`You're actually sounding a bit like Hermione,' said Harry.
`Well, as long as someone has your best interests close to their heart,' said Lupin. `It's just a shame you don't listen to her more. She's a bright girl.'
`You haven't got to tell me that,' said Harry. `She's beaten me academically for years.'
`There's more to intelligence than academics, Harry.'
`I know that, and I know she tries to look after me,' said Harry. `She just gets a bit too concerned for me sometimes. I need space to work at what I have to do. I'd hope that I wouldn't have to tell you how useless protection is for me these days.'
`You don't know that,' said Lupin.
`Voldemort only feared Dumbledore,' said Harry. `Good witches and wizards have already been killed. Who do you know that could protect me from him? Of all the people around I doubt a seventeen year old witch would stand much chance, however good she is. I'd rather she stayed away and safe.'
`Actually, Harry,' said Lupin, `someone like Hermione is exactly who you need close. People who care for you above and beyond that which an average friend does will fight harder and with more force than anyone else. Don't forget the protection your mother's love gave you.'
`Yeah, I don't. But I wouldn't want Hermione to give me that kind of protection, I would rather she stayed alive.'
`That might not be for you to decide,' said Lupin. `And you may not be able to keep her, or your other friends, safe. But in any case, I'm sure she would be willing to make that kind of sacrifice for you, and that's the sort of person you want to keep close.'
Harry, who was finding the whole conversation uncomfortable and the room surprisingly hot all of a sudden, changed the subject.
`So, if you haven't been to the Burrow, how did you know I was here?'
`We have our sources at the Order,' said Lupin. `We have been waiting for that Fidelius Charm to be performed here and as soon as it was we were alerted.'
`Did you know that Dumbledore had planned this, then?' asked Harry.
`He told a few of us, not long before he died, actually,' Lupin replied. `It was as though he was expecting it. The whole series of charms he performed were only done a month or so before his death.'
`So, why have you come then?' asked Harry.
`To see how you are,' said Lupin. `I know how difficult it must be for you to come back here, so the very fact that you are must mean something negative. I can't imagine you coming here unless you really had to. So I thought I'd come by and make sure you are alright. Nymphadora thought you might need company.'
`How is Tonks?' asked Harry. `Where's she stationed now?'
`At the Ministry, mostly. I like her being there with the other Aurors, safety in numbers, you know. Like you with Hermione, I'd rather Nymphadora was far away from any action. Also like Hermione, however, I don't think I could keep her away no matter how hard I tried. But back to what we were saying, is everything alright? You being here alone doesn't look good.'
`Oh I'm fine,' said Harry. `I was just feeling a bit crowded at the Burrow. Loads of people, you know? Just wanted a bit of space to think. I feel a bit like the odd one out with everyone all focused on the wedding and stuff. This was the only place I could think to go. I thought I could be of use to the Order and help out in the war while I search for the Horcruxes.'
`The what?' asked Lupin.
`Didn't Dumbledore tell you? He thinks Voldemort divided his soul into seven pieces and placed them inside Horcruxes, objects that do just the job.'
`I didn't know that, Harry,' said Lupin. `But it's an intriguing theory. I suppose that's why he didn't die the night he killed your parents - because all his soul wasn't killed.'
`That's right,' said Harry. `Dumbledore reckoned two of them were destroyed already - Voldemort's Uncle's ring and the diary that got into Hogwarts in my second year. We went looking for a locket the night he died but someone got there first and said they destroyed it, but I want to make sure. That leaves another three to find before I go after the last piece which is still inside Voldemort himself. I reckon his snake could be one piece which leaves just two others and the locket.'
`And have you any ideas for the other two?' asked Lupin, rapt.
`One is linked to Gryffindor,' said Harry, `and I found this counter-curse that talked about Gryffindor having a helmet that everyone identified with him. I think that could be one but I don't know where I'd find it.'
`That's good detective work, Harry,' said Lupin. `I know the helmet you are talking about. He is said to have worn it in many famous battles but was parted from it before his death.'
`How? It might help me know where to start.'
`I'm afraid I don't know,' said Lupin, sounding frustrated. `But Gryffindor did become something of a pacifist before he joined the other four Founders at Hogwarts. At a guess I'd say try to find out anything you can bout him just before he and the others formed the school and start there. His sword went with him to Hogwarts but the rest of his armour must have been left somewhere shortly before that took place.'
`That's a good idea, I think I'll do that,' said Harry.
`You get onto it, Harry, and I'll have a think myself. Unfortunately, I'm no great historian.' Lupin got up. `I think its time I got on. I have business with the Order to attend to.'
`Okay, Professor, thanks for coming by.'
`No chance you'll stop calling me that?' said Lupin smirking.
`It'd be weird not to,' said Harry.
They made their way back down the hall and Harry opened the front door.
`I don't suppose you know anyine who's good at decorating, do you?' said Harry. `I wanted to cheer up the place.'
`Afraid not,' said Lupin smiling. `Living amoung werewolves leaves little room for home improvements. I'll have to be getting along, Harry. You take care of yourself and I'll be in touch soon. No doubt the Order will want to trespass on your property before long.'
`They can come as soon as they like,' Harry replied. `Just so long as they keep me involved.'
Lupin chuckled and made his way down the steps and within a few yards had Apparated away.
Harry had barely sat down before the door knocked again. Suspecting that he knew who would be on the other side this time he went back into the hall and opened the door a second time. This time, his guess was right.
`WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT!'
Harry wasn't sure what was a greater shock; Hermione screaming at him was certainly a surprise, even though it wasn't wholly unexpected, but her tumbling backwards when she tried to enter the house was the last thing he - or she - expected.
`What is that?' she asked, getting up gingerly. `Why cant I come in?'
`Oh yeah, I have to invite you,' said Harry, smirking and leaning against the door frame.
`Well go on then, invite me in,' said Hermione.
Harry looked at the mad look on her face. `Can I trust you?'
`What?'
`Well, you look a bit crazy. If I let you in will you promise not to hit me or nag me?'
`I can't promise that,' said Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching. `Not after that stunt you pulled last night.'
`Then I'm afraid I cant let you in,' said Harry.
`Stop being so silly,' said Hermione. `Let me in.'
`Nope, not till you promise.'
`Harry, this is childish.'
`I'm scared of you, Hermione,' Harry teased. `You're pretty powerful, you know, and who knows what you might do when you're this angry. I could be left as something very nasty.'
`You will be if you don't let me in,' said Hermione. `I'll wait here till you have to leave for food if I have to.'
`I'm well stocked in here so I hope you've brought a blanket.'
`Please, Harry.'
Harry buckled and invited Hermione in. She hadn't even got over the threshold before she threw herself at him. However, instead of the slap Harry had been expecting Hermione had thrown her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug and Harry could almost feel the relief lifting from Hermione. He thought she would start crying but her voice was relaxed when she spoke.
`Do I need to tell you how worried I've been?' she said into his shoulder. `I waited for an hour and a half when I knew you weren't at the Burrow for you to come back. I guessed you weren't going to after that and I hoped you'd be here. How many times have I got to tell you to let me know where you are?'
`You were asleep,' said Harry. `And I did tell you what I was going to do. Speaking of which, why are you here? I thought I told you I didn't want you to come with me?'
`And I know I've told you a million times I'm with you wherever you go.'
Harry broke the hug with Hermione and led her towards the kitchen. He sat down as Hermione filled the kettle and lit the stove.
`Have you eaten?' she asked briskly.
`Not this morning,' said Harry.
`You're useless, aren't you?' said Hermione, clicking her tongue. `How do you plan to look after yourself when you get older?'
`Well, I'll just have to keep you around' said Harry smirking as Hermione put on a pan to cook some eggs.
`Pass me the bread, Harry,' said Hermione smiling back coyly.
Harry watched her slicing the bread and got up to lit the grill.
`Don't tell me you actually know how to use one of those?' said Hemione sardonically.
`I was the Dursley's slave for eleven years,' said Harry. `I picked up a few things.'
`Oh, I forgot, sorry,' said Hermione solemnly.
`It's okay, it was ages ago,' said Harry.
`It isn't okay,' said Hermione dropping eggs into the water. `It isn't okay at all. You've had so much bad done to you, so many people have been horrible to you and your life has been so hard that I don't think its okay in any way.'
`Bloody hell, Hermione, you sound like you're writing a Greek tragedy about me.
`Don't joke, Harry, I'm serious. Doesn't it bother you how hard you've had it?'
`Sometimes,' said Harry truthfully. `But I can't do anything about it. And besides, things aren't that bad. I've got you making me breakfast, haven't I? What more could I want?'
`That's what I love about you, Harry,' said Hermione. `No matter what happens you always seem to look ahead and make something positive out of it.'
`Is the same me we're talking about,' said Harry. `Or have I got a twin I never knew about?'
`It's true. You've had more bad things happen in seventeen years than anyone should have to endure in two lifetimes. But you still manage to deal with it, still focus on what you have to do and still find time to make light of it. I'm so proud of you, you know?'
`Aww don't, I'm welling up,' joked Harry, who was again feeling the room heating up.
Hermione suddenly hugged Harry again and it was a good few minutes before she let him go and went back to cooking.
`What was that for?' asked Harry.
`Do I need a reason?' Hermione replied. `Just sit down, Harry. But get some cutlery before you do.'
Harry obeyed and in no time at all Hermione was spooning eggs, toast and bacon onto the plate she's put in front of him. She served herself and sat down next to him.
`This is good, Hermione,' said Harry.
`Why do you sound so surprised? Didn't you think I could cook?'
`Honestly? No.'
Hermione laughed.
`I always helped my mum out at home,' Hermione explained. `Plus my nan always had cookbooks around and you know I'll read just about anything.'
`Yeah,' Harry agreed, nodding vigorously. `Anyone who can read Hogwarts: A History a hundred and twelve times must find a cookbook practically entertaining.'
Hermione laughed again. `Hark who can talk! How many times can you possibly read Flying with the Cannons?'
`It's a good book.'
`I don't doubt it, but really - how many times can you read about Ron's favourite Quidditch team?'
`What do you mean by that?'
`Nothing insulting,' said Hermione in an almost bored voice. `It's just that - well, Ron supports the Cannon's. They're his team, have been since he got into the game. But why are they yours, if they are? Have you ever seen them play? Do you feel some sort of affinity with them? Or is it to do with the fact that Ron likes them and they're the only team you know?'
`They are not the only team I know,' said Harry indignantly.
`Oh, really?' said Hermione. `Name me another one.'
`Er, ooh - the Holyhead Harpies! Ha!'
`Not really difficult considering Slughorn's been going on about Gwenog Jones all tear, but I'll give you it. Another.'
`Um…those, er, Tornados ones.'
`What? Surely you don't mean the team Cho liked? Not the team your first love followed? I can't believe you remember them!'
`Ho ho,' said Harry.
`Come on, another,' pressed Hermione. `Or how about the winner of the league last year? Perhaps the top scorer? Name me the England Quidditch team. Who are the best Eurpoean team?'
`Ok ok, is there a point here?' asked Harry, exasperated.
`I'm just not sure you like Quidditch that much,' said Hermione.
`Is that a joke?'
`I'm serious. Okay, you love playing at Hogwarts but apart from that you know very little about the game. You don't support a team, don't follow the national side, don't read about the sport in the Prophet. Would you really call yourself a fan?'
Harry hadn't ever considered it like this before. But now that he did give it some thought he had to say Hermione was right.
`Well…no, probably not. But what's this got to do with cookbooks?'
`Oh, nothing at all. I just wanted to beat you in an argument. It isn't good for you to get too big headed, Chosen One.'
Hermione smirked at him again and they continued their debate on whether he actually deserved to be called the Chosen One for quite a while. It was only after they had cleaned away their plates that Hermione did something unexpected, and well received by Harry.
`So, are you going to tell me your plans for finding this helmet thing you think is a Horcrux?'
`What? You actually believe me now?' said Harry rather stunned.
`I've been thinking about what you said and you're right, it doesn't matter what I believe, it's what you think that's important. And you believe in this, so, come on, any thoughts?'
Harry, so relieved to have someone to share this weight with, began talking. He filled Hermione in on all that had led him to this theory and then told her of Lupin's visit that very morning and his enthusiasm for Harry's plan. This, more than anything, seemed to sway Hermione's opinion.
`So Lupin had heard of this thing?' she asked.
`Yeah. Like I said, its famous.'
`It's not a place to start, his last wherabouts before Hogwarts,' said Hermione thinking. `And I know some good books on that. Can you get us in to Hogwarts?'
`What? Now?'
`No time like the present,' said Hermione happily. `See if you actually have some brains above that pretty little face of yours.'
`Flattery is an art, Hermione,' said Harry. `And I don't think you'd pass it in an O.W.L.'
Hermione smiled. `Come on. The longer we sit here the more time we're wasting.'
`Shouldn't we go and get Ron?'
`He was still snoring away when I left,' said Hermione with a trace of bitterness. `Besides, I think we can both agree that research isn't his strong point, don't you?'
Harry laughed and got up, leading the way outside. Hermione followed behind and they made their way to a little alley running between the houses. It was high and dark and well concealed from prying eyes.
`On three?' Harry asked. Hermione nodded. `One - two -`
Hermione gave him a little wink and Disapparated. I guess we're even, then, Harry thought to himself as he, too, span on the spot and disappeared.
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