A/N: Yes, Dumbledore has had everyone wrapped around his little finger. Yes, he's probably a bit too evil in this fic. But that won't stop me from keepin this gravy train rolling.
As a result of my promise to include the conversation with (Rather than delay it for another chapter), this chapter is slightly longer than my normal updates.
Chapter 11: Conversations and Memories
If one were to stumble upon the Burrow in its current state, at first you would think it was in as normal a position as it had always been. Granted it still looked as if a stiff wind would blow it over like a house of cards in a tornado. Granted there was still the occasional banging on the pipes from a ghoul in the attic. But these were normal, everyday occurrences as far as the Burrow was concerned. More than not it was part of the place's rustic charm.
Seeing a garden gnome flying into the next county however, was not likely part of its rustic charm.
Molly Weasley sat from her kitchen table, watching her youngest biological son clean out the garden of the gnomes whose unfortunate fate it was to wander across the fence this morning. For Ron the action was cathartic in nature, and he almost seemed to be hunting the pesky little creatures like a cat on the prowl for its dinner. On some small level it disturbed Molly.
Ron had become much quieter in the last couple days, though that was likely due in part to his being worried for his two best friends, one of whom Molly secretly hoped Ron harbored feelings towards. She had no problem with the young Miss Granger, in fact she thought they made quite a nice pair.
Nice and out of the way, perhaps, but a nice pair nonetheless.
Silently she continued to watch Ron as she thought back to everything that had transpired over the last week or so. It had started simply enough, with Ron and Ginny being told not to write to Harry so that he could be alone with his grief. The Headmaster then had mentioned something about moving Hermione and her parents to the Burrow for a short while, for their own protection. Of course Molly and to a certain extent Arthur had ulterior motives for having the Granger's over. Molly certainly wasn't above playing matchmaker, and sadly Ronald seemed to have inherited his father's loyal heart and his thick-headedness at the same time. Yes, she kept telling herself, Hermione would make a nice wife for Ronald someday.
That plan had gone up in smoke with the duo of blockbusters that had come the next day, when Harry had vanished into thin air and Death Eaters had attacked the Granger residence. Hermione and Harry's fate, as far as the Weasley matriarch knew, was uncertain.
A couple of days later Ron had sulked downstairs, even more silent than usual. Since that time barely three words had been spoken by the boy, and when he was approached about it he just said he was worried about Harry and Hermione. Perfectly understandable of course, from Molly's point of view. It was certainly the response she expected out of him.
Ginny...Ginny had not taken to the news in the way that Molly had expected. Oh the girl was worried, that was certain, but not nearly as much as Molly had hoped for. If things were going truly as they were supposed to, then she should be a right mess at the moment. As it was, she was worried, but allowed herself to be distracted by the usual summertime activities. All things considered, Molly internally frowned, she was taking to Harry in an odd sort of way. Her girlhood crush had been replaced by a more sisterly type of affection, though there was a hint that there might be a lingering attraction there on her part.
Idly, Molly sipped her tea, and recalled that she'd have to do something about that as soon as possible. She wondered if she still had that book she had used to help Arthur along.
The thoughts didn't roll around in her mind without a tinge of guilt attached to them. More and more she had been feeling that pang of conscience that told her that the promise she had made to Dumbledore several years ago wasn't worth it, that they were better off now and that the old man had no control over their lives, but a more cynical and practical part of her told her that the web of lies that she had built could only be escaped by doing one thing, and that one thing was completely unspeakable at this point.
She barely noticed Ron walk in from the garden and begin to stalk upstairs, not even bothering to say hello. Molly contemplated speaking to him, but thought better of it. After all, he probably wanted to be alone, and to Molly's opinion, that was best for the time being.
/ - / - / - /
From where Hermione Granger was sitting, life was too much of an emotional roller coaster; one that she felt at nearly every twist and turn was going to toss her right off at any given moment. She had gone from the lowest of lows, seeing her parents killed while she was powerless to stop it, to the highest of highs, finally having Harry tell her that he loved her in such a short timespan that it really made her head spin.
Of course she had no idea what Harry must be going through. Finding out that you're the heir to five of the oldest wizarding lines in Britain, heir of the Founders of Hogwarts, a multi-millionaire and in love with your best friend all in the course of a week was bound to have a profound impact on one's psyche. However Harry just seemed to take it all matter of factly. Whether he was truly that calm or was merely focused more on Hermione's own problems was unknown.
For now they were currently sitting in a small Italian Eatery a couple of blocks down from the Leaky Cauldron. They had journeyed back to muggle London to eat an early lunch before going back to the Alley to visit Mr. Ollivander and then going back to the bank to seek out Lupin.
"'Mione?" Hermione shook her head and looked over at Harry, who was glancing up from his menu and staring at her with those bright green eyes of his. "You know what you're going to order?" he asked, a bit worried that she had been silent for a while. Hurriedly she glanced down at her menu.
"Er, yeah, um..." she paused and glanced down at the menu, "Chicken Tortellini sounds good." Harry nodded and glanced back down at his menu before closing it when a waiter came and took their orders. A few moments later the waiter was gone and Harry looked back at Hermione.
"What were you thinking about," he asked nonchalantly. Hermione stared at him for a moment, trying to piece together a response, before coming up with a conversation they needed to have.
"Harry, how are you dealing with all of this so calmly? I mean, after everything that's happened you just are acting like nothing's changed." She had a small amount of frustration at his lack of emotion at times, but tried to keep it hidden as much as possible. Harry merely looked at her, his look unwavering.
"It is a wonder I haven't gone flying off the handle isn't it?" he casually replied, a smirk on his face. He tried to contemplate an answer, and the silence was nearly driving Hermione insane. "I guess it's just this calming presence in me. I mean, everytime I get angry or upset I have this little voice of control in my mind that tells me to calm down and helps me analyze things."
"But...w-what happened at my house," Harry's features darkened, as if he were afraid of something greatly, and almost immediately Hermione regretted her conversation. "I'm sorry Harry, I was just curious that's all."
Harry took a deep breath and paused for a moment. "It's alright 'Mione," he said. He paused again, taking a sip of water, before continuing. "What happened there was similar...but different. I had this presence in me that fueled my anger and allowed me to cast those curses." He contemplated this for several moments, as did Hermione. Hermione was the first to reach a conclusion, and gently leaned forward and held her hand over Harry's.
"You're not a bad person Harry," she stated firmly. "Everything you did was because you were trying to help me." She hesitated for a moment, before making her next statement. "Dumbledore's ideas of how to fight this war are wrong. I see that now. We all dwell inside a shade of gray, and there is no imaginary line we cross between light and dark. And if there is then it's not dictated by the spells we cast." Harry looked straight into her eyes, and Hermione offered a smile. "You came to protect me. Those Death Eaters were only looking out for themselves and in causing pain and suffering. That's the difference."
"I guess," Harry said, smiling. Their conversation was interrupted by the waiter who brought them their lunch. Slowly they began to eat, not many other words exchanged between them. Eventually they came to near the end of the meal, when Hermione chimed in again.
"So," she said with a smile. "You're an animagus. What's your form?"
"Don't know yet," Harry answered back, blushing a bit, "I guess I sort of forgot about it."
"We really need to figure all this knowledge out," Hermione said with a smile and a laugh. Harry smiled back, but that quickly turned to a frown as his eyes glanced to the side. Hermione followed his eyes, trying to find out what the problem was. She noticed Harry unsheath his wand, a bit surprised considering where they were. After Harry glanced around for a few seconds to make sure no one was watching, he silently conjured a small glass next to him. He picked up the glass and slammed it down onto the table, holding it firmly against the surface. At tis moment Hermione saw what he had trapped, and had to keep from letting out a vile hiss.
Trapped beneath glass was a rather angry, and rather colorful water beetle. Taking a cue from Harry's nod. Hermione slid the glass towards her and put it in her lap, holding her hand firmly over the top. Harry motioned for the waiter to get their check, and in a few minutes they had paid and were outside. Turning down a small alleyway, they checked for any onlookers before setting the glass down on the concrete. Harry pulled out his wand, pointing it straight at the beetle, which was cowering in the corner. "Animagus Aperio," he clearly intoned, and a small gray light shot and hit the beetle, which quickly shattered through the conjured plastic and was replaced by the slightly dazed looking Rita Skeeter. The reporter got her bearings and looked up, quickly seeing two of her least favorite people in the world holding wands straight at her.
"You've got about ten seconds to explain to me how you found us and why you're here," Harry commanded, more than a hint of anger in his voice. The stern glare that the young witch next to him gave Rita was more than enough to back up Harry's words. Standing up, Rita dusted herself off as best she could before putting on her best smile.
"Well, these glasses aren't for show you know," she wryly said, pointing at the horn-rimmed spectacles that outlined her face. "These babies see through even the most complex glamor charms." Harry arched an eyebrow. That wasn't satisfactory to him in the back of his mind, given that he had passed by undetected by Mad-Eye Moody of all people.
"No lies Rita," Harry said, pointing his wand a little further at the witch. Rita huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face as she did.
"Fine. I saw you coming out of the bank and trailed you alright!" Some people just had no sense for dramatic flair. "And as to why I'm here...news baby." Harry and Hermione both looked at each other, and then straight at her again. "Oh come on. You didn't think you're disappearance would go unnoticed did you?! You're the boy-who-lived, the Chosen One, the..." Harry held up his other hand.
"I would hope our little arrangement had taught you a lesson Rita," Harry calmly but coldly said. "Apparently not. I hear the fine for being an unregistered animagus has gone up recently." To this, Rita merely smirked and pulled out a small piece of paper, flashing it before the other two. "What's that," Harry demanded to know. Hermione paled slightly as recognition dawned on her face.
"It's an animagi registration license. She must have registered with the Ministry." Harry's features darkened slightly, as Rita held on to her smug look.
"Yes, and I believe I have you on underage magic use for that little animagus revealing spell. And conjuring that glass in front of nearly twenty muggles. I would think you had more caution Mr. Potter. Won't look too kindly to have the wand of the Chosen One snapped now would it." She devilishly smiled as she continued. "Of course, if you were to give me the exclusive as to where you've been hiding out the last week..." she paused and looked at Hermione, "and other such sordid details, I'm certain we could come to some sort of agreement."
The look on Harry's face was disconcerting as far as Rita was concerned. At first he simply kept a straight, unflinching gaze upon her. Then, briefly, there was a slight crack at the corners of his mouth. It happened again, longer this time, and lingering on as a sort of half-hearted smirk. Before long Harry had begun to chuckle, and then broke out into a full-on laugh that borderlined on a maniac cackle. Even Hermione looked at him strangely as he finally calmed down, but with a cocky smirk instead of the grim drawn frown that he had previously.
"That's the best you have? That's the best you could come up with to try and blackmail me?" He shook his head in mock indignation. "Rita I must say I'm disappointed, I thought you were more resourceful than that. Regardless however, it won't work, seeing as how I was emancipated...and I can make your life a living hell."
Rita arched an eyebrow. The boy was bluffing. He had to be. Apparently Harry could see her calling his bluff as well. "I assume you recognize this," he said holding up his right hand. There, situated on his 4th finger was a rather large gold ring with an ornate lion carved into it. Rita stared at it for a long time, before recognizing it as the Potter family ring. When her face realized what she was seeing, Harry forcefully stated, "Black." With a small flash the ring on his finger changed to a slightly smaller silver one with a black stone set in the middle, the all-too-familiar Black family crest. Rita let out a bit of a gulp. Finally, Harry forcefully stated again, "Seldon." The ring changed a third time, being replaced with another gold band, this time interwoven with silver with a jade stone set in the center. She recognized all three rings...and her face instantly went pale.
"Judging from your reaction I assume you know what my being head of these three houses means," Harry said plainly, after changing the ring on his finger back to the Potter crest. "It means I have a 61 stake in the Daily Prophet, more than majority ownership, and given my connections within the rest of the wizarding world, I can make it so that you are never published again. Not for an expose on me, not even for a weather report for a Quidditch game."
Harry kept as straight a face as he could on the outside, though on the inside he was practically beside himself with glee at the turn of fortune. For her part Hermione merely stood back and watched, her wand lowered slightly, a smirk forming on her face as well. They both gazed down at Rita, who was outwardly trying to maintain her composure, but on the inside screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Of course," Harry continued, his voice adding inflection at the end, "I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement." After a few moments of contemplating her limited options, Rita let out a deep sigh and lowered her head slightly.
"Fine fine whatever just...whatever."
"Good, firstly I want you to give your word that you'll not tell a soul that you spotted us. Secondly, I want you to sit back and wait patiently." Her eyes went wide at this.
"And what am I supposed to do while waiting, twiddle my thumbs?" Rita removed her glasses and stared directly into Harry's eyes. "I still have to eat you know."
"Oh I know," Harry replied with a smile, "And that's why I'll set you up with a monthly stipend from Gringott's. I'd say...double whatever the Prophet is paying you a month to simply work freelance." At this point Rita was regretting removing her glasses, given the way that her eyes were comically bulging out. "I assume that is acceptable. For your pay you will simply wait until needed. At which point, I promise you a story that will make your career legendary, far more than any ratting out of little old me could give you." Harry lowered his wand completely, casually flicking it towards Rita before sheathing it. "What do you say?"
Rita simply sat there too stunned to notice anything or to reply to anything. A few minutes ago she was about to jump on a particularly juicy news story, and now she was being offered essentially free money to sit on her bum and then be handed, supposedly, the biggest story of her career on a silver platter.
He had her at the free money.
"Very well Mr. Potter," Rita said with a fake smile, shaking Harry's hand. "I assume you will set up the details."
"Of course," Harry returned with equally fake pleasantries. "I'll owl you tomorrow once I have the stipend set up with Gringott's. It's been a pleasure doing business with you Rita."
"The same to you Mr. Potter." Once again false smiles and bravado were exchanged, and the two of them broke off, Rita turning around the alleyway, more than likely finding a way to spend her newly gained wealth, and Harry just standing there, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Hermione waited several moments before she finally spoke. "Harry, what just happened?" Harry rubbed his head, scratching behind his ear with one eye slightly closed as he matter-of-factly responded.
"We just cut off a potential enemy and gained a potentially valuable ally." He smirked and then planted a small kiss on Hermione's forehead, effectively silencing her for the moment. "Trust me 'Mione. I made it so that she won't even think about double crossing us." He left it at that, though Hermione wondered whatever Harry's magically enhanced mind had thought of.
Down the street, Rita's unflattering mind did consider the possibility of betraying her new benefactor, when she suddenly felt a rumbling in her stomach and a sudden urge to find the nearest bathroom.
Harry merely kept a smirk on his face as they walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. "What are you going to have her write about," Hermione finally asked, stopping Harry just outside the pub. He turned around, the smile gone, replaced with a look that was a pure mixture of anger, frustration, and an odd sort of righteousness.
"Dumbledore," was all he said.
/ - / - / - /
Nigelius Ebeneezer Ollivander liked to think he had a good head on his shoulders. Even at a spry 182 years of age (and getting younger as he liked to say) he still remembered every single wand he had ever sold and to whom he had sold it. If he thought hard enough he could probably remember what he had for breakfast on the morning of the day he had sold the wand. This knowledge was something he prided himself on, and he made sure to state it to every single one of his customers.
And so it was that a very obvious frown crossed his face when a young couple he didn't immediately recognize came into his shop. As he searched their faces he couldn't for the life of him place them. Still, he hid his frustration as he stepped out of his spindly chair and approached them.
"Good afternoon," he said with a smile. "How can I help you today?" He offered as cheery a disposition as he could, though from the look the taller man was giving him, Ollivander half-suspected he had an inkling of the old man's frustration.
Quickly Ollivander felt a tentative probe into his mind. He almost immediately recognized the tendrils of legilimancy coming from one of the customers. Quickly Ollivander shut off his mind and closed his occulumency shields to full bore, and the intruder was quickly expelled.
"You're an Occulumens," the man said slowly, with a small smile drawing across his face.
"Yes," Ollivander replied, his face drawn. "And would you mind explaining why exactly you used legilimency on me?" He wasn't one who normally got angry, but the affront by this individual was quickly getting on his nerves. To Ollivander's surprise however, the man showed a sheepish smile as he pulled out a wand that Ollivander seemed to recognize.
"Sorry about that," he explained, "But I had to be safe." With a wave of his wand, the man's features changed from that of an aristocratic blonde to that of the famous Harry Potter. His female companion likewise transfigured, revealing a rather charming bushy haired witch that Ollivander took a moment to recognize as one Hermione Granger. Ollivander stared at the two of them as recognition dawned on his face.
"I see," he continued, breathing deeply to settle his nerves. "Well I can certainly say when I sold you that holly wand with a phoenix tail feather Mr. Potter, I predicted great things for you. It's nice to see that you thus far haven't disappointed me." He turned to Hermione. "And you Miss Granger, with your wand at 9 3/8", vinewood, dragon heartstring core that is surprisingly stiff, I hear you're the brightest witch of your age." She blushed slightly, but had a deep seeded sadness that lurked beyond the humility. Ollivander didn't pry however.
"Mr. Ollivander sir," Harry politely interceded, "I need a second wand." He glanced over at Hermione. "And I was wondering if you had any wand holsters. Madame Malkin's has a limited selection, and I figured you might have a better one."
Ollivander stared at Harry for a moment before his reply. He contemplated reaching out with his own legilimency, but figured that if the boy was a skilled legilimens, he probably had his own occulumency shields that were as hard as diamonds. He also briefly contemplated using it on the girl, but held off for fear of appearing too overbearing. Instead he merely put on a slightly stunned face. "I do have a wide variety of holsters Mr. Potter, but why on earth would you need a second wand?"
"A year ago, when Voldemort came back, he and I dueled each other. I assume you know what happens when brother wands duel one another." Ollivander nodded.
"I see. Well while I can understand your reasoning Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that what you are asking is a bit difficult even for my prodigious skills." He paused for a moment and looked at a softly clicking grandfather clock in the distance of the shop. "That is of course unless you have a pressing engagement."
Glancing down at his own watch, Harry frowned. They were due at Gringott's for the meeting with Remus in less than an hour. "I'm afraid we do," Harry answered, before inquiring "Why should it take that long?"
"You remember the difficulty I had in fitting you for your first wand," Harry nodded, "Well as I said then...the wand chooses the wizard Mr. Potter. To find another wand that would fit you would be...rather difficult. Not impossible mind you, but very difficult." He gazed down at Harry, allowing his eyes to twinkle slightly in the faint candlelight. "But come back when you have some more free time, I'd be more than up to the professional challenge." Harry nodded, and motioned to look at the wand holsters, when Hermione finally spoke up.
"I don't suppose you sell books and wand making?" she asked, her voice a bit more than curious. Ollivander turned towards her, completely caught off guard by the question, while Harry merely smiled and shook his head slightly, apparently clued in to some inside joke that Ollivander wasn't privy to.
"I suppose I can come to some arrangement," Ollivander finally answered, before adding "Though I doubt they'll be of much use to you. After all, the art of wandmaking is a skill that takes years to even begin to understand, let alone master. I myself have had 8 apprentices, and the shortest tenured of those stayed with me the better part of 11 years." Inwardly however, he smiled at the woman's enthusiasm at learning the subject. He walked behind him and grabbed a few dusty tomes off the shelf, eager to make the deal.
Nigelius Ebeneezer Ollivander liked to think head has a good head on his shoulders, and that good head was telling him there was a good deal of money to be made.
/ - / - / - /
Remus Lupin was currently sitting in the conference room that he had rented out for the afternoon. Normally he wouldn't do much business with the goblins. It wasn't anything against them personally, to be truthful, it was just that ever since he was a boy going to Diagon Alley for the first time he had a severe uncomfortable stance around them. However, for Harry's sake of privacy, it would be best that they held this meeting here.
He had arrived early, of course, as was his custom. However judging from the small desk clock in the room Harry had not taken to such promptness. It was now ten after two, and Remus was beginning to worry that Harry had decided not to show after all. His worries were lifted however a moment later when he heard a slight click and quickly turned towards the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Harry...and Hermione, both looking as they should have.
It still amazed Remus to no end how much Harry looked like his father, from the perpetually ruffled black hair to the wire-rimmed spectacles dotting his face. Seeing him now, Remus was reminded of this fact all at once, and had to hold back a tinge of sadness in his heart. He saw Hermione close the door behind them, and saw the young woman walk with more than a hint of sadness lurking just behind her features, although all things considered it was understandable.
"Harry," Remus solemnly whispered, standing up and embracing the young man whom Remus considered his last link to his friends and, in most ways, considered him the closest thing he'd ever have to a son of his own. They stayed that way for a while, before Harry broke away from embrace and took a seat next to where Remus had been sitting. Remus walked over and gave a hug to Hermione, offering a solemn "I'm so sorry about what happened Hermione." She nodded onto his shoulder, and Remus could tell she stifled a sob. Breaking away, they each took their seats, Remus moving to across the table from Harry and Hermione. It was not lost on him that they were sitting closer than they normally did.
"Where have you been," was Remus' first question. He had many, but that seemed to be the most pressing. Knowing that they were in fact safe and unharmed answered many potential questions that Remus was glad to have never asked. Harry stared at him a moment, his eyes slightly twinkling in the room's ambient light. Remus was throughly confused by the gesture. He hadn't seen that twinkling in anyone's eyes save but for one person, Dumbledore. Hermione seemed to clue in to what Harry was doing before Remus could, and reassuringly rubbed his shoulder.
"Werewolves are most immune to legilimency Harry," she explained, causing Harry to turn to her and smile. "The nature of their condition makes them nearly impossible to read...even for Dumbledore. I doubt even V-Voldemort would be able to fully gain what he wanted out of him." Harry nodded, and let out a deep sigh of relief, while Remus watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow.
"Since when did you know legilimency?" he asked, pointing a finger at Harry. "I was under the impression the lessons Snape was giving you were...not going well."
"You could say that," Harry replied with a smirk. Remus immediately noticed the tone of the young...man's voice had changed slightly. It sounded, just from that one statement, to be a bit more confident then the last time that Remus had spoken with him. "To answer your question...well...maybe it's best if I start from the beginning. I assume you know about the prophecy?" Remus nodded, his brow furrowed. James had told him the prophecy shortly after it was made. "Well then I know where to start." He motioned to Hermione.
"On the way home from Hogwarts, I was reading a book on cursebreakers. I was always interested in the career and had thought about it after I graduated." She paused a moment, hesitant about something, but then continued. "I saw a spell in the book that would allow me to see if there were any kind of curses or enchantments on a witch or wizard. Knowing what little I knew about Harry's scar, I cast the spell to try and see what effect it had on his magical aura. I was surprised to find there were several curses on him, many of them I couldn't figure out what they were." Remus' eyes went wide as he looked at Harry, who maintained an even countenance throughout the casual explanation. "I cast a small cursebreaking spell that was within my ability, and that seemed to disrupt one of the curses a bit but it was hard to tell for certain. We got to Kings Cross before I could research further."
Harry picked up the story seamlessly. "I was taken by my aunt and uncle following that, but for some reason I didn't understand at the time, they were treating me better than normal. Not well...but not like they usually do. I was in my room, admittedly sulking a bit over..." Harry paused a moment as well, and Remus nodded his head at the gesture, "right...Hedwig came through the window and gave me a letter from Gringotts.
"The first thing the letter said was that someone, we don't know who, has been pilfering from my trust vault for some time. But that wasn't even the most intriguing news." He took a deep breath, and held out his hand. For the first time Remus noticed a rather large gold ring on his finger, but couldn't make it out beyond that. "Potter, Black, Seldon, Warrens, Draven," Harry clearly stated in rapid succession. There was a moment of hesitation before 4 more rings, each of different style and metal appeared on the other fingers of his hand. Remus stared at them all individually, quickly coming to a realization of what that meant.
"But...how..." his mind wanted to go in a thousand different directions at the moment, but after a few minutes Remus calmed himself down and managed to come to a conclusive first statement. "Harry, you're not even sixteen yet. There's no way you could have those rings!"
"Haiden Orlock said something similar, but he explained that due to the Black's family standing with the goblin nation that I could become lord of that house before I legally came of age. By doing so, I was officially emancipated. Once that happened, I was able to inherit those other houses. The Warrens and Seldon titles were passed down through several generations of muggles before they came to my mother. The Draven line was patriarchal, descended from my dad's side of the family." He paused, breathing deeper. Remus could instantly tell that there was something else.
"There was more in that letter," Remus plainly said, without a questioning undertone to the statement. Harry nodded, and looked at his fingers again. Chanting the name Potter once the original ring returned, while the others vanished into thin air.
"After I learned of my inheritance, Orlock informed me of another little tidbit that our esteemed headmaster saw fit to leave me in the dark on. The Potter, Warrens, Seldon and Draven families are all direct descendants of the Four Founders of Hogwarts." Remus was certain that if he wasn't firmly planted in his seat, he would have collapsed. "I underwent the inheritance ritual and they judged me as worthy to be their heir. As a result they greatly expanded my spell and potions knowledge, gave me the ability to speak several different languages, improved my mental and emotional control, changed my physical appearance, and removed all of those bloody curses that I had on me, including the link with Voldemort." He stopped, and looked as if a bit of a burden had been lifted off his chest.
Remus sat there, shocked. Part of him wanted to think that this was all an elaborate prank. After all Harry was James' son. The majority of what he said however, Remus accepted. Harry would have no reason to lie to him. And there would be no way that Hermione would be in on the joke too. Finally, he spoke up.
"Wow, that's...that's amazing Harry." Harry seemed to nod with a soft smile on his face, a bit overwhelmed by it himself. Remus then frowned. "I thought you said they changed your physical appearance." Harry nodded, and pulled his wand out from his sleeve. Waving it across his face, Remus looked away for a moment, before turning back to Harry with an astounded look on his face.
Where once the Harry he knew had sat, now was a different, and much more mature individual. His hair was a bit messier than before, and a fair bit longer as well, though it looked to have been recently cut. His face had an edge to it that spoke of wisdom beyond his years. His body had filled out rather considerably, and he was a bit taller as well. Harry removed his telltale glasses and flung his hair into some sense of order in the front, revealing to Remus that his famous scar had been reduced to a mere afterthought.
"I see then," Remus said, almost a little sad. For whatever reason, in that moment any connection to the past Remus saw in Harry was irreparably damaged. For the first time, Remus saw Harry as truly his own man. Quickly changing the subject, Remus continued. "What about these curses? What were they?" Almost instantly Harry's features darkened.
"There were several," Hermione interjected, her own voice betraying her anger. This also surprised Remus, though surprise was a feeling he was quickly growing accustomed to. "One of them, the one I tried to get rid of, seemed to take his...relatives...innate fear of magic and multiply it a million times. I think that explains his treatment and their hands."
"But...who in their right mind would do such a thing?" Harry's eyes were definitely showing signs of anger right now, and it scared Remus partially.
"There's more," he fiercely returned. "There were power blocks that kept me from reaching my full magical potential. That damn scar of mine kept the link open with Voldemort. And...there was a memory charm." He spit that last part out, obviously perturbed about it more than anything.
"Is that the memory you spoke of in your letter?" Harry nodded. "I'm sorry Harry but I still don't have the foggiest as to what that memory would be." Harry nodded, a look of knowing on his face.
"I figured as much. The old codger probably put one on you too." He pulled out his wand. "Let's see here..." he closed his eyes, seeming to feel out with some unseen force, and his face twisted a bit as he seemed to find what he was looking for. "Yep, that's a memory charm alright." He opened his eyes and looked at the dumbfounded Lupin. He sheepishly smiled, "Sorry, I still don't have a handle on everything I know yet." Remus smiled.
"It adds to the dramatic effect though." Harry seemed to chuckle at this, and Remus was partially relieved to have some of the seriousness lifted. The moment passed quickly however, as Harry pointed his wand at Remus' head and intoned, "Memoria Cubus." Instantly Remus felt a pain in his head, as something was coming to the forefront.
He remembered coming upon Privet Drive some ten years ago. He remembered seeing Harry alone and beaten. He remembered taking him to his cottage in Wales, teaching him all about the magical world and telling him stories about his parents. He remembered happiness. He remembered Dumbledore coming and taking Harry back. He remembered forgetting it all.
The next few moments were an enlightened experience for Harry. He had never seen Remus get truly angry before. In one moment the man's calm demeanor and gentle amber eyes reverted to a more feral, wolflike state. His eyes narrowed as he seemingly pieced everything together, and his eyes became a bright shade of yellow. Quickly figuring it all out, Hermione jumped into action.
"Professor Lupin," she shouted from across the table, leaning forward to take the older man's hands. "Calm down...it's us...we're here." Lupin looked at her, and Harry thought for a split second he might attack her, but it quickly passed as Remus calmed himself and took a deep breath.
"Dumbledore has a lot to answer for," he simply stated, before regarding Harry with determined eyes. "I can't say how much help I'll be. But if you need anything Harry, Hermione...anything at all. Never hesitate to ask."
A/N: Probably more with Lupin in the next chapter, mostly concerning the next major plot event, as he learns where Harry and Hermione have been staying and reacts to their relationship. Caliban clues in on the identity of the Lord of Slytherin, but frustrates Malfoy in the process and we also learn something of his past. And if I think about it long and hard enough, everyone's favorite greasy git might show up.
I've also contemplated adding a plot piece that would definitely help things along in terms of characterization, and settle my own qualms as to who Book 6 should have been named for. That will probably show up to, if I get courageous enough.