A Promise Kept - Chapter 38 - Matters of the Soul

Matters of the Soul

Although he was always pleased to spend time with his friends, Harry was equally grateful that he had the last month of the summer break to himself so that he could continue his ongoing work without having to make flimsy excuses as to why he was absent.

He could now train without issue and even spend time within the Department of Mysteries when his mother and Sirius left to attend meetings with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

His time with Croaker, simply discussing magic and the man’s experiences was benefitting greatly, and he’d even been assured they would begin developing his own skills soon enough.

Right now, however, he found himself sitting at the kitchen table with his mother, godfather, and the odd man that was Horace Slughorn, who had taken to quizzing Harry on his knowledge of potions when the two of them would cross paths.

The man knew just about everything worth retaining about is subject, was even engaging in how he explained things, and had many stories of his own.

There was, however, only one Harry was interested in learning, but the moment to broach the subject had not presented itself just yet.

Perhaps that would change during the course of this meal, or perhaps not.

Their breakfast was interrupted by the arrival of an owl, which landed in front of Harry and presented its leg.

“That’ll be your letter from Ilvermorny,” Sirius declared.

Slughorn frowned.

He could not fathom why anyone would seek their education anywhere else other than Hogwarts.

Opening the letter, Harry frowned as a badge fell on top of the table and groaned as he picked it up.

“Clarke must be out of her bloody mind. I’m not Prefect material!”

Sirius unleashed a bark of laughter, and his mother frowned at the man.

“What is wrong with being a prefect?” she asked. “I was a prefect.”

“Prefects are nerds,” Sirius answered. “Nobody likes prefects. Bunch of goody-two-shoes.”

Lily cleared her throat, and Sirius stopped laughing.

“I’m very proud of you, Harry, and Remus would be too.”

“Where is Remus?”

“Looking into something,” Lily broke in. “This is such a privilege for you, Harry, and you earned it.”

“Nerd,” Sirius muttered teasingly.

Harry could only shake his head.

He’d be walking around Ilvermorny with the captaincy badge he already had, and now this. He was honoured to have been chosen, but he’d rather have been left out of whatever discussion took place to choose prefects in the first place.

“You’ll be Head Boy at this rate. I have no idea what Albus was thinking when he gave that badge to your father.”

“He was thinking that some responsibility might’ve curbed some of your exploits,” Horace interjected. “I remember the conversation well. I was not so pleased by his choice.”

“Well, it was either James or one of the bloody Death Eaters.”

Slughorn grimaced.

“True,” he conceded. “Speaking of which, I have decided to accept your offer to return to Hogwarts. I cannot stay here indefinitely, and with so much…uncertainty, I’d like another run.”

“And we will be all the better for having you,” Sirius replied gratefully.

Harry nodded his agreement.

Slughorn was an incredible potioneer.

“You would’ve taught Tom Riddle, wouldn’t you?”

All of the colour drained out of Horace’s face at the mention of the name, and he became outright fearful.

After a moment he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I was his head of house,” he said gravely.

“Who is Tom Riddle?” Lily asked.

“That would be Voldemort,” Harry answered, “before he decided to adopt his stupid name. He’s not even a lord for one thing, well, technically, if Morfin Gaunt has died in Azkaban, he is the head of the family. I’m not sure how the magic treats those who are responsible for the death of their uncle.”

Lily looked towards Sirius who was frowning.

“The Gaunts,” he murmured. “The last surviving Slytherin line. They were Parselmouths from what my grandfather told me. They were terribly inbred towards the end.”

“And mostly mad,” Harry added. “Marvolo died in Azkaban, and then Morfin was convicted of killing a muggle family in the neighbouring village. Any guesses what their name was.”

“Riddle,” Sirius whispered.

“Exactly, but it wasn’t poor Morfin who killed them, even though he would’ve if he thought about it. That was a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, who went looking for his family after his sixth year at Hogwarts. Let’s just say he wasn’t happy when he learned of his parentage, and well, he put an end to all of them, killing his muggle family before framing Morfin.”

“He did that?” Slughorn asked.

Harry nodded.

“I never…but then I never expected him to become what he has…”

“So, he wasn’t a monster at school?”

“N-no,” Horace answered. “For his first few years there, he was quiet, a damned brilliant student, that cannot be denied, but I never saw anything concerning. I mean, there were a few incidents later…Albus never liked him. The rest of us could not understand why. He was polite, helpful, and as I said, brilliant.”

“Dumbledore was a good judge of character,” Harry said with a shrug.

“How did you learn all this?” his mother asked worriedly.

“Here and there,” Harry answered. “Best to know all you can about your enemies.”

She looked worriedly towards Sirius, who was still frowning.

“His mother…”

“Merope Gaunt, Morfin’s younger sister. She took a liking to Riddle’s father and used loved potions on him. She thought that when they were married and she was carrying his child that he would stay with her.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No, and she died giving birth to her son. He was raised in an orphanage where he tortured the other children. Even before he made it to Hogwarts, he knew how to use his magic to hurt people. From there, it was a very slippery slope.”

Horace broke the following silence by clearing his throat as he stood.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I will lie down for a while.”

He left, and Harry did not take his eyes off his retreating form.

“Why would you bring that up?” his mother asked.

“Because he knows something,” Harry answered, his gaze still fixed on the door. “He reeks of guilt.”

“What could he possibly know?”

“I have no idea, but I will find out.”

“Not now, Harry,” Sirius urged. “You will be coming with us this afternoon to meet with the rest of the order.”

“Sirius…”

“Only with Moody. He is someone you should make some time to work with. He’s one of the few people who has held their own against him in a duel. Mind, that was before he lost his leg to him. He’s a bit mental, but I have a feeling the two of you will get on.”

Harry only nodded in response and cursed under his breath as another owl arrived. This one was familiar and wanting to get it out of the way with, he retrieved the letter, only to curse once more.

Sugar,

Congratulations on following in my footsteps!

Clarke could not wait to tell me about your new, lofty position. Maybe one day, you’ll manage to be as great as I am.

Fat chance of that!

Adrian

“I’ll swing for that git when I see him.”

“Probably not a good idea getting yourself arrested for assaulting an auror, Harry,” Sirius chuckled as he read the note over his shoulder.

“I suppose you know that from experience.”

“Yes, he does,” Lily broke in with a glare. “Your father and godfather here spent the night in the Ministry holding cells after brawling with a group of them in Diagon Alley.”

“Remus started it!”

“Why were you brawling with aurors?”

Sirius shrugged.

“It was a slow night, and James bet me I wouldn’t thump Dawlish.”

“So you did it.”

“It wasn’t my best idea.”

Harry could only shake his head in response.

He’d hoped to visit with Croaker when they left to meet with the Order, but it seemed that his plans had changed, though not necessarily for the worst.

Alastor Moody was something of a legend in Britain, and he did not doubt that meeting him would be an interesting experience.

(Break)

“I received word from Walden, my lord. He will begin his return journey but wait in the south until you have need of the giants. There has been infighting among them, and they are on edge.”

The Dark Lord nodded.

Thus far, all seem to be going well enough.

Macnair was fetching the giants, and he had already sent for Greyback to meet with him, when Severus managed to locate the pack. They had been silent for some years now, not drawing attention to themselves from the ICW.

“The werewolves…”

“I will be visiting Bulgaria, my lord. There are rumours that is where they have settled. Greyback will be pleased you are willing to offer them sanctuary here. It has been a difficult few years for them.”

“Good,” Voldemort praised, a frown marring his features.

All was indeed progressing well, and he had no doubt of his success, but there was one facet of his ambitions that had all but come to a standstill.

Potter.

Beyond a few newspaper articles, Wormtail and Barty had been unable to obtain any indication of where the boy was, and not even Lucius had been able to access records of properties purchased by the Blacks across the Atlantic.

Not that knowing exactly where any were would likely help.

They would undoubtedly be unplottable, unfindable, and Sirius Black would’ve gone to every possible length to ensure they remained that way.

No, the best chance he had was to place Peter within the school, though that was not preferable. He was not familiar with the defences, and if Wormtail were to be caught, the fool would sing like a damned canary of what he knew.

Nonetheless, it was the only option he currently had.

“Lucius, what contacts do you have in America?”

“A few, my lord, but none I can profess to sharing a close relationship with. My focus has been here. It was my grandfather who established those contacts before the Grindelwald era there.”

“Could you re-establish them?”

Lucius nodded thoughtfully.

“There is perhaps a shared interest between me and a few of the prominent families in certain businesses. The Goodes have an excellent network of contacts in the trade of magical products, and the Van Droombeelds in more than a dozen industries.”

The Dark Lord hummed thoughtfully.

“Potion ingredients?”

“I believe so, my lord.”

“That would be most useful for us. Those trapped within Azkaban will need care when I free them, and it would raise suspicions if we were to purchase ingredients in significant quantities, but if we were to import them…”

“I will look into it at once, my lord. No businessman is going to turn away from a potentially considerable addition to their coffers, not even a Van Droombeeld.”

“Then do so as a priority,” Voldemort instructed. “I do not wish to wait any longer than necessary to free the others. I will have need of them, and what of your other task?”

Lucius winced at the mention of it.

“Difficult at best, my lord. I will ensure we are keeping watch, but I believe we will need Augustus.”

He was not surprised by the man’s lack of success and had reached the same conclusion. The Department of Mysteries was not so easily accessible, and he would rather collect the prophecy without drawing attention to himself in the process.

Having been an Unspeakable, Augustus would know how best to approach the problem.

“Very well. You have your instructions.”

Both Severus and Lucius left and the Dark Lord nodded to himself.

For now, things would be a little slower than he liked, but the moment all began falling into place, he would make his move, and strike hard and fast, doing what he must before a strong resistance could be mustered against him.

“Perhaps a little more than a year,” he murmured.

He had waited almost fifteen to even be where he was now. Another year or so was not so long to wait to have Britain firmly in his hands.

(Break)

Harry had been quite displeased that he was being excluded from the meeting with the entire Order, but there were things that would inevitably be discussed he was not to be made aware of yet.

Sirius did not like that the prophecy was being kept from the boy, but ti was one of the few things Lily was insistent on, even if the decision came back to haunt her.

It would.

Harry would experience a myriad of emotions when all was revealed to him, and for a while at least, he would be furious with them. It was something Sirius dreaded but would respect Lily’s wishes on the matter.

“Before anyone else speaks, I have some surprising and worrying news,” he said sombrely when the other members had finished arriving. “I am certain that we have uncovered who was responsible for Albus’s death other than the Dark Lord. It was Barty Crouch Jr.”

He saw no need for a dramatic pause, or to reveal each step that had been taken to discover what they had between Harry and Amelia Bones.

“He’s dead,” Artur said confusedly. “Not long after he was imprisoned if I remember correctly.”

Sirius shook his head.

“No, his mother died and was buried at Azkaban whilst Barty was smuggled out of the prison by his father. It looks as though he was kept prisoner in his own home until Voldemort somehow discovered he was still alive. He rescued him and used Crouch to kill Dumbledore.”

“Unbelievable,” Elphias whispered. “You are certain of this?”

“Completely. I was there when the grave was exhumed. It was the remains of a woman, and Amelia Bones confirmed to me that the belonged to Barty’s wife.”

“Merlin,” Molly choked. “Barty would never…”

“For his wife, he would have,” Sirius interjected. “We are capable of the most unexpected things when it comes to those we love. For now, Amelia think it is best to keep it quiet, to use it to our advantage when the time is right. I agree.”

“So, Bones is aware of him being back?” Alastor asked.

“She is, but as she said herself, without proof, there is little she can do, and Fudge certainly won’t believe it until the truth is staring him right in the face.”

“And that will not happen until the Dark Lord is ready,” Alastor pointed out grimly.

Sirius nodded.

That was the crux of the matter, but the truth of it. Fudge and the Ministry would be useless, and by the time they realised what was happening, it would be too late.

Voldemort would be much cleverer this time around, would take his time, and watch as the Ministry crumbled before he revealed himself, unless he was forced into doing so.

He frowned thoughtfully as he pondered how he might do just that.

“Tonks, what did you discover?”

The metamorph shook her head.

“Nothing,” she said simply. “It’s not as though any of them are discussing sending alerts of magical activity to people outside of the Ministry. If I had the time, I might be able to access the logs.”

“What do you need?”

“Nothing, but if I am caught, it will be my career gone and a lengthy stay in Azkaban.”

“Then do not risk it unless it becomes necessary,” Sirius instructed. “For now, it was an isolated incident as far as we know, but if it becomes a regular problem, we will discuss it further.”

Tonks nodded her agreement, but Sirius did not doubt she would look into it. She was as eager as he had once been, after all.

Still, she was no fool, and would be careful enough, he hoped.

“Arthur?”

The redhead rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“So far, I’ve not seen anyone, but it feels like there is someone with me in the corridor. Maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“No, I have felt it too,” Sturgis Podmore sighed. “I can’t see anyone, but I feel them, and I am sure I heard something two nights ago.”

“It would make sense,” Sirius mused aloud. “It will be one of the first things he wants to get his hands on. Just, be careful. The same with Tonks, do not take any risk, but send for the rest of us if you need.”

“Is there any word from Remus?”

Sirius immediately felt his mood drop.

“Nothing yet. I will keep you all informed whenever he manages to get in contact. I think that is all, for now. It may seem quiet, but those of us that remember it last time know that it can only mean something big is on the way.”

“Aye, we must be ready. I will see what I can do about finding us some more members and dig up Fletcher from wherever he is hiding. The little runt always know something.”

Sirius nodded appreciatively.

“Thank you, Alastor. You are staying behind?”

The man frowned before grinning knowingly.

“Aye.”

“Then that is all we have for now. It doesn’t seem like much, but it is something for us to keep working with. Be careful, all of you.”

“I will fetch the children,” Molly declared taking her leave of the kitchen.

Sirius was not pleased about them being here during the meetings, but the Weasleys would be one of the Dark Lord’s list of targets, and he would never forgive himself if something were to happen at the Burrow when Molly and Arthur were not there with their children.

“He’s here then?” Alastor asked as the others began filing from the room.

“He is, and believe it or not, I think he is quite keen to meet you.”

“Ha, we will see about that!”

(Break)

It had irked him that he’d been excluded from the meeting of the entire Order, but then again, Harry was in no mood to be gawped at by a group of people he’d never met before.

Not being a part of it, however, did grant him the opportunity to do something he had yet to do in the many times he had passed through Grimmauld Place, and that was to have a look around the stately Black home.

He doubted it had been in its current condition when Arcturus had been or alive, or even Sirius’s mother, but his godfather assured him it was much better than it had been the first time he’d returned a few years prior.

Nonetheless, it was still coated in grime, and some of the furniture had fallen into disrepair.

Almost every light fitting was dusty, and the floorboards creaked loudly beneath his feet.

“Regulus Arcturus Black,” he murmured as he reached the one door he’d come upon with a polished handle.

“That is Master Regulus’s room,” a croaky voice interrupted him as he was about to enter.

“You must’ve liked Regulus if you kept it tidy.”

Kreacher nodded, his usually sour or suspicious expression one of a sad fondness.

“Master Regulus was good to Kreacher, and to Mistress.”

“And Sirius wasn’t.”

“Master Sirius was a very bad boy.”

Harry chuckled amusedly.

“I do not doubt it, but he is the Lord Black.”

“Then it will be you, Master Harry.”

“If Sirius does not have a child of his own.”

Kreacher frowned and shook his head.

“Kreacher likes Master Harry. He is like Mr Potter.”

“My father?”

“Master Charlus. He married Mistress Dorea.”

“You knew them?”

Kreacher nodded.

“Master Charlus was a strong wizard, but he did not like Mistress very much.”

“You liked him.”

“No.”

“Because he didn’t like Walburga.”

Kreacher shrugged and began polishing the brass doorknob of Regulus’s room.

“Oi, you’re not half as rude to him as you were us!”

Harry frowned as two somewhat familiar redheads approached from the far end of the corridor.

“Master Harry belongs here.”

“Oh, so he is Master Harry, and we are the nosy redheads.”

“Yes,” Kreacher answered before vanishing with a gentle pop.

“Surly git. Alright, Harry?”

“Fred and George Weasley,” Harry greeted them.

“He remembers us.”

“Not so much,” Harry said with a grin, “but I don’t think there are many other sets of twins at Hogwarts that Sirius has to keep an eye on.”

“Ah, so our reputation precedes us.”

“We are famous.”

“This calls for a celebration. Would you like a sweet, Harry?”

He quirked an eyebrow at the box that was offered and shook his head.

“If I wanted to spend the night puking, then I would.”

“It would be only a few minutes before we gave you the antidote,” one of the twins protested.

“These actually work then?”

“Of course.”

Harry nodded appreciatively as he picked up one of the odd confections and inspected it. They were a rather simple creation, but even the smallest discrepancy in the recipe could be most unpleasant.

“These are genius,” he declared. “Do you have any for sale? I know a few people who’d benefit from these.”

“Are they for sale? Everything is for sale! What tickles your fancy?”

“What do you have?” Harry asked curiously.

He almost regretted asking as the other twin removed a shrunken trunk from within his robes and resized it on the landing. Tapping it with his wand, the lid opened, and a colourful banner unfurled itself.

“Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” he announced proudly, offering Harry a dramatic bow. “From Skiving Snackboxes to Extendable Ears, and beyond, we can provide anything for your pranking needs.”

Harry’s gaze flitted over the various boxes on display.

“Decoy Detonators?”

“A useful little tool if you need to get out of a tight spot. Just tap it with your wand, and it will run away before exploding, causing a distraction so you can make your get away.”

“That could be useful,” Harry said thoughtfully, wondering how else the magic could be used.

An explosive that could sneak into somewhere of its own volition could be most useful indeed., as could many of the other things the Weasleys had created.

“This is all brilliant,” he praised. “You should open a shop to sell this stuff.”

“That is our plan.”

“Once we have raised the revenue.”

“We will put Zonko’s out of business.”

“I do not doubt it,” Harry replied. “Have you thought about turning your talents towards the war effort? I have some ideas that might be useful, just not the time to develop them.”

“We already have. They are in our defence line.”

“Shield hats and cloaks, along with Peruvian Darkness Powder, another way of making a quick escape.”

“What about an offense line?” Harry asked.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, lots of things, and we can discuss them in detail. I will make it worth your time, of course,” he added. “What about the extendable ears, how do they work?”

The redheads grinned at him.

“Follow us, and we will demonstrate. Maybe Ronald and Ginevra should buy a pair, that way, we might not know that they’re being nosy gits!”

“We weren’t being nosy!”

“We heard voices,” the girl added.

“Doesn’t give you the right to be nosy.”

“Isn’t that what you’re going to do with those Extendable Ears?” she retorted.

The twins shared a look before one leaned in towards their sister.

“You know too much, Ginevra. That could get you into trouble.”

“From the two of you? All I need to do is mention to Mum…”

“Now there’s no need for such rash behaviour, sweet sister. We have enough ears for all of us.”

The girl nodded and snatched one of the ears from the box as she passed them, and Harry accepted another, watching as the twins demonstrated how they were used.

They each dangled the length of string through the gap of the stairs and lowered them until they were next to the closed kitchen door, gesturing for the others to do the same.

Harry did so and could hear voices coming from within.

“So far, I’ve not seen anyone, but it feels like there is someone with me in the corridor. Maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“That’s Dad,” Ron whispered.

“Shut up.”

“No, I have felt it too. I can’t see anyone, but I feel them, and I am sure I heard something two nights ago.”

“It would make sense. It will be one of the first things he wants to get his hands on. Just, be careful. The same with Tonks, do not take any risk, but send for the rest of us if you need.”

“Is there any word from Remus?”

“Nothing yet. I will keep you all informed whenever he manages to get in contact. I think that is all, for now. It may seem quiet, but those of us that remember it last time know that it can only mean something big is on the way.”

“Aye, we must be ready. I will see what I can do about finding us some more members and dig up Fletcher from wherever he is hiding. The little runt always know something.”

“Thank you, Alastor. You are staying behind?”

“Quick, they’re wrapping up!” one of the twins urged, reeling his Extendable Ear back in. “What were they talking about?”

“No idea, Fred,” the other twin answered.

“Don’t look at me,” Ron said with a shrug.

Harry frowned to himself.

He couldn’t be certain what the first part of the conversation had pertained to, but he suspected that Remus was somewhere on the continent, looking for Greyback’s pack.

“No, me either,” he added when the others looked at him.

“Fred, George, Ron, Ginny?”

“Ah, the sweet tones of our ever-suffering mother. It was good to see you, Harry.”

“And you. Remember what we discussed.”

The twins offered him a wink before leading their younger siblings down the stairs, towards where their mother was waiting for them.

After a few moments, the voices in the hallway below began to fade away, and Harry descended, entering the kitchen, and quickly ducking below a curse that was sent towards him.

Instinctively, he threw his dagger, and had his attacker not turned his head sharply, his evening would’ve become considerably worse.

Much to his surprise, the scarred man laughed as he pulled it from the wall beside him and even nodded appreciatively.

“Aye, he’s a sharp one,” he declared. “Not bad, Potter.”

He eyed the dagger before returning it to Harry, who ignored the questioning look of his mother and godfather.

“Harry, where did you get?” the woman asked.

“It was a gift.”

“That’s quite a gift, lad. Always useful to have something on hand, just in case.”

“In case you need to gut someone?” Lily scoffed.

“Aye, this has saved me on more than one occasion. It ain’t as fancy as yours, Potter, but it is sharp,” Moody said proudly as he removed his own that was attached to his wooden leg. “Same as this one.”

He removed another, smaller, and crudely made, but with a wicked edge.

“This one was my uncle Gabriel’s. He used it during Grindelwald’s war.”

Lily shook her head and Sirius chuckled as he presented his own knife, smaller than the dagger, with the head of a shaggy dog serving as a pommel.

“A gift from your father, Harry. I always keep it with me.”

“Do all men carry knives?”

Both Moody and Sirius shrugged and Lily rolled her eyes and muttered something about boys and their toys before looking at Harry.

“I don’t like the idea of you carrying a knife. They’re dangerous.”

“I carry a wand,” he pointed out. “I can use it to explode someone’s eyeballs in their sockets.”

“One of my personal favourites,” Moody interjected with a grin that twisted the several scars littering his face.

His mother conceded the point with a nod, and it was anger or disappointment could see, but sadness, and Harry realised something in that moment.

She was scared, as any mother would be, but more than anything else, she was trying to protect him.

It was a fool’s errand at this point. Each of them knew that wasn’t possible, but Lily Potter was trying to cling on to some kind of semblance of being able to protect her son from what was coming.

Perhaps not revealing the prophecy to Harry was the very last vestige of that, and Harry understood it.

He had spent the past weeks since learning of it himself being angry that it was being kept from him, and did not even consider just why that was so beyond being lied to.

Even so, it still bothered him and would do so until someone told him the truth of what his fate might be.

Not that he could envision it happening soon.

His mother certainly would not tell him until he was of age, or unless it became a necessity sooner, and given how the war had begun, that might well be unavoidable.

“I’m sure Sirius has told you that I will be taking his former job at Hogwarts,” Moody spoke once more, breaking into his thoughts. “How would you like to do some work with me? There are more than a few things I can teach you.”

“Will I look like you when it is all over?”

Moody grinned.

“If you’re lucky, Potter.”

Harry nodded.

“It would be stupid not to.”

“There’s a good lad. Sit. We have a few things to discuss before any of that. Tell me, Potter, are you able to resist the Imperius Curse?”

(Break)

He had been taken aback by the sudden influx of questioning from Lily’s son, had not expected to hear any but Albus, or perhaps one of Tom’s original followers utter the name that had haunted him again.

To hear it pass through the boys’ lips so casually…

Horace shook his head as he continued to pack.

During the last war, he had lived in fear that he would be killed at any moment, that his former student would see him dead despite the close relationship they’d once shared.

Having seen in the newspapers and heard on the radio what the young Riddle had gone on to do, Horace knew he was little more than a loose end, which was why two of the Death Eaters had come for him so quickly.

Whether they merely came to once again convince him to join the Dark Lord, he did not know, but that was not a risk he was willing to take. At least at Hogwarts, he would have the protection of the castle, for as long as that lasted without Albus.

Oh, he did not doubt the ruthlessness or creativity of Sirius Black. He vividly remembered the incident that had almost seen Severus being mauled to death by the waiting werewolf in the Shrieking Shack, but Sirius could be rash, hot-headed, and was not as meticulous as Albus.

Even so, returning to Hogwarts was his best chance at surviving the war, especially now after his latest escape from the clutches of his former student.

“You’re leaving?”

Horace jumped at the sound of the voice.

“To Hogwarts,” he assured Lily. “It will be nice to have some time to settle in before term begins.”

She nodded.

“I am sorry about Harry.”

Horace waved her off.

“Do not apologise, Lily. He is curious, and full of anger. If anyone has that right, it is him. He may look like his father, and is undoubtedly like him in many ways, but there is much of you in him.”

“Are you saying I am curious and angry?”

“Aren’t you? I cannot say that I was ever fond of James Potter. Oh, he was a brilliant student in his own way, an excellent flier, and became a good man. He was your husband, Lily, and all these years, you have been here, hiding from the rest of the world.”

“Not hiding. Keeping my son safe.”

“Something I applaud you for. You have raised a fine boy, a good boy, and I know you wish to protect him, but from him…”

“I know,” Lily sighed. “Harry worries me, not just because he could be hurt or killed, but because of what he is willing to do to those that would harm him or me. He is like James, and me, but there is something else in him…”

“He is a fighter, Lily. He had to be. I have seen him, every morning, swimming in the pond, running, and pushing himself. He carries so much burden on his shoulders, and that will only become more cumbersome when he comes of age.”

“Yes, it will,” Lily murmured.

Horace gave her shoulder a squeeze, once more feeling that stab of guilt that plagued him since he’d shared that fateful conversation with Tom Riddle.

Horcruxes.

It was the only explanation as to how Tom had survived the night he’d attacked the Potters, and Horace was likely the only person who knew, unless Albus had somehow discovered it for himself and discussed it with the boy.

No, that was a preposterous supposition, which meant that if he wanted the war to end favourably, it would be on him to reveal what he knew; the very thought of which, terrified him to no end.

(Break)

He always enjoyed the late evenings in the department. During the day, it was a flurry of activity, men and women carrying out their experiments, returning from assignments, or others preparing to leave on them.

Of course, there were those that worked late, but after hours, they were confined to their studies to ensure the security measures in place were not compromised.

Oh, it had happened many times over the years.

More often than not, it was due to a rat somehow finding its way in, but on more than one occasion, he’d found a determined intruder attempting to access places they had no business being.

Four times throughout his career, the trespasses had been unexplained and remained so to this day.

“There are people in the corridor that shouldn’t be.”

Clarence nodded.

“Just as it was last time towards the end. One of them is a member of Albus’s group, and the other…”

“One of his.”

“Indeed, Mr Potter, but I find it best to ignore them. Neither can access what it is they seek, and not only because you have already taken it. There are measures in place that are not seen until it is too late. However, they will eventually find a way. I suspect the Dark Lord will be first.”

“Augustus Rookwood.”

Clarence nodded.

“An incredibly gifted wizard in his own right,” he sighed. “I was surprised when he was revealed to be a Death Eater. Fortunately, they were able to gather little from him before he was locked away.”

“For now. Riddle will free them.”

“And then he will be able to find his way to what he wants, only it will not be there.”

“Can Rookwood help him?”

“Undoubtedly. The measures have changed, but Augustus is an astute man, clever, and resourceful. He will find a way.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“Then it is something I will have to use to my advantage, when the time comes.”

“Indeed. Now, what is it you wish to do this evening, Mr Potter? Your curse breaking is coming along nicely, and your concealment is all but undetectable.”

“What do you know about soul magic?”

Clarence frowned as he turned towards the boy.

“I know that it is dangerous, and perhaps even more foolish than messing with the concept of time. Even here, it is not permitted to be studied, let alone practiced. There are some things, Harry, that should be left well alone.”

The boy nodded.

“Well, it seems that not everyone agrees with that assessment.”

Clarence’s frown deepened, and in a single moment, he realised just what it was the boy was up against, just how much help he would inevitably need, and the days ahead of them became just a little darker.

“Follow me, Mr Potter,” he instructed, turning, and making his way back towards his study, a place that Harry was becoming rather familiar with during his visits here.