Thrown Back: Chapter 44

Author's Note: An update killed the program that I use to make EPUBs. I'll get it fixed and add them to the post as soon as possible. No later than tomorrow. Another chapter of this will be coming soon, but I'll probably finish up Sticky Situation first. Sorry for the inconvenience.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fWRadYDVU2cm0F80oMsJ_Kibv37RkGo0n6zrBUm123I/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 44

Harry sighed as he watched students pour into the Great Hall for the first DA meeting of the new school year. Sirius shouldered Snape on the way in, nearly knocking him over. They glared hatefully at each other, but the entrance of Professor Fortescue stopped a fight from breaking out. Barty Crouch grabbed Snape by the robes and dragged him away, glaring poisonously at the Gryffindors over his shoulder.

As he waited for the rest of the students to wander in, Professor Fortescue came to stand next to him. He looked to be in his late sixties, but Harry suspected he was much older. He knew he and Dumbledore had fought together against Grindelwald. His thin blonde hair swept back over the top of his head, and his bright, intelligent blue eyes surveyed the crowd critically.

“Did you teach this many students last year?” he asked curiously.

Harry nodded.

“Yeah, they can be a handful,” he said.

“I can imagine,” Fortescue smiled. “Even at the height of the war, tensions weren’t this high back in my day.”

“And it’s only going to get worse,” Harry sighed.

“Perhaps,” he acknowledged, nodding toward Bellatrix and Narcissa. “But you’re clearly making a difference.”

Harry smiled as his girls took their place at the front. Alice stood next to Lily, smiled, and waved at her grandfather. Fortescue smiled back and gave her a little nod.

“Shall we get started?” he asked.

Harry nodded and took a step forward.

“Alright, everyone,” he said, clapping his hands loudly. The hall fell silent, and everyone turned to face him. “This is going to be pretty similar to what we did last year. For those of you that are new, just try to keep up the best you can. If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask for it. This isn’t about grades, it’s about improving. As long as you leave better than when you entered, that’s all that matters.”

“Now,” he continued. “I think we should start by knocking some of the rust off from Summer break. Break off into pairs and let’s see what you remember.”

As everyone paired off and spread out around the Great Hall, Harry and Fortescue walked around to offer advice. Harry was pleased to note that Lily, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and the Marauders, with the exception of Pettigrew, were well beyond the others. It seemed like his lessons over the Summer had stuck. James, in particular, was taking things much more seriously. His jaw was set determinedly as he parried and blocked a flurry of spells from Remus.

He just wished he could say the same about Sirius. Harry rolled his eyes as Pettigrew’s robe was transfigured into a pink tutu while he sang and danced to ‘I’m a Little Teapot.’ Smacking Sirius upside the head, he reversed the spells with a flick of his wand.

“Alright, Peter, you go work with James and Remus,” he said, frustratedly. “Sirius, you go work with your cousins.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, and he glanced over at Bellatrix, who flashed him a dangerous smirk.

“Oh, come on!” he yelled. “It was just a joke!”

“Oh, a joke,” Harry said, feigning realization. “I like jokes. How about this one? Bella!”

Sirius yelped as a bright red spell whizzed past his nose. Harry laughed to himself while Bellatrix descended on him with a barrage of spells faster than he could block. Sirius ducked and weaved between students as she chased after him.

“Interesting teaching technique,” Professor Fortescue said, watching on with mild amusement. “And effective. Ms. Black hasn’t hit a single student besides Mr. Black.”

“She’s extremely skilled,” Harry nodded.

Humming in agreement, Fortescue clasped his shoulder and led him a short distance away from the students.

“You know, it may be beneficial to run mock duels in the halls,” he said softly. “Something more realistic to what they might expect, should the castle be attacked.”

Harry furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

“There are a lot of students who have Death Eater parents,” he murmured. “They could tell them how we plan to defend the castle.”

“I know,” Fortescue smiled. “Hannibal’s wizarding army once feigned weakness to draw the Roman wizards into a crossfire that decimated them. It would be a pity if the Death Eaters were told certain areas were undefended and it turned out they were wrong.”

Harry blinked, smiled, and shook his head.

“You’re as bad as Moody,” he muttered.

“Who do you think taught him?” Fortescue whispered.

Patting him on the shoulder, he slipped back amongst the students while Harry chuckled.

~

It was less than two weeks into the school year, and Harry had already given up all pretenses of attending his classes. Professor McGonagall eyed him disapprovingly when she passed him in the halls, but she never said anything about his missing classes. He figured Dumbledore had a word with her and the other professors, and the fact that he still performed his Head Boy duties kept her from giving him an earful.

But Harry had bigger things to worry about than getting good grades on his NEWTs. He needed to find a way to deal with the Horcruxes. For two weeks, he’s scoured the library and the Room of Requirement for anything even remotely related to soul magic. Unfortunately, only a handful of books mentioned it at all, and those that did only glossed over it as something dangerous and forbidden.

Even Dumbledore’s copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts held little real information. He’d need to find more information outside the castle. On a cool Wednesday morning, he informed McGonagall he’d be out of the castle for most of the day. She’d merely pursed her lips and nodded. Once he was back in the Head’s suite, he stepped through the mirror to Godric’s Hollow.

“Daddy!” Amanda cried excitedly.

Harry smiled and lifted her up as she rushed over to hug him.

“I missed you,” she murmured with her face buried in his shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

Perching her on his hip, he walked into the kitchen, where Sylvia was preparing breakfast.

“Hello, stranger,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “What brings you by? Is everything okay at school?”

“It’s fine,” Harry told her, and set Amanda in her chair. “I need to talk to Charlus about a couple of things and maybe run a couple of other errands.”

“Can I go with you?” Amanda asked eagerly.

“Sure,” he smiled. “Dorea loves it when you visit.”

“Yes!” Amanda cheered, bouncing excitedly in her seat as Sylvia smiled and set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her.

She made a plate for herself and Harry, and they ate quickly. It took a few minutes for Amanda to get dressed before they mirrored over to Potter Manor. Alfie bolted through after them. Yipping excitedly, he raced around the room and hopped up onto the sofa.

“Alfie, get down,” Sylvia barked, snapping her fingers.

The stuffed, animated dog barked and sat right where he was.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Dorea said from the doorway. “James has brought home much worse, I assure you.”

Stepping into the room with a smile, she hugged each of them.

“Is Charlus around?” Harry asked.

“He’s in his office,” she told him.

Nodding, he started making his way down the hall. Behind him, he heard Dorea invite Sylvia and Amanda out to the garden. It was a short walk to Charlus’ office. The door was already open, and Charlus sat behind his desk, rifling through a stack of parchment. A large Horned Owl sat on a perch in the corner, head tucked under its wing. Both occupants turned to look as Harry knocked lightly on the doorframe.

“Harry!” Charlus smiled. “This is a surprise. What brings you here?”

“I need to take a look at your library, if you don’t mind,” he said.

“’Course not,” Charlus said.

Standing, he pushed his chair back with his legs and stretched. His back popped a couple of times, and he let out a low groan before walking around the desk and over to Harry.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” he asked, waving him to follow.

They stepped back out into the hallway and walked deeper into the sprawling manor. As they walked by one of the windows, Harry spied Dorea and Sylvia sitting on a bench while Amanda and Alfie chased each other around a small fountain.

“You could say that,” Harry said. “I’m looking for books on soul magic.”

Charlus turned to him with a frown.

“I don’t think I need to tell you just how dangerous that kind of magic is,” he said softly.

“I know, but it’s necessary,” Harry told him.

Charlus nodded.

“Well, you’re welcome to look, but I don’t think we have much on the subject.”

They paused at a set of double doors on their left. Giving the handles a twist, he pushed them open. The library was large. Larger than it should have been. Magic had most certainly been used to expand it over the years. Two curving staircases sat on either side of the room, leading to a second floor that contained most of the books. The first floor held a few bookcases along the wall, but the center of the room was dominated by three worn, brown leather chesterfields and a heavy wooden table. At the very back sat an ornate marble fireplace.

Charlus led him up the stairs, and together, they searched through the small selection of books that contained any information on soul magic. Harry collected them, took a seat on one of the chesterfields, and poured over the books while Charlus returned to his office. Most of the books he’d already found at Hogwarts, but three of them he hadn’t come across. Unfortunately, none of them held anything useful for his purposes.  

Sighing, Harry put the books back and returned to Charlus’ office.

“Ah, Harry!” Charlus smiled. “I was just coming to check on you. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Harry shook his head.

“I might be able to help you better if I knew exactly what you’re looking for,” Charlus said, leaning his arms on the desk and interlacing his fingers.

“I can’t tell you,” Harry said apologetically. “It’s too dangerous.”

Running a hand through his hair and letting out another sigh, he dropped into the seat across from Charlus. He’d barely settled before a thought popped into his head, and he stood back up.

“Can you keep Sylvia and Amanda company for a couple of hours?” he asked.

“Of course,” Charlus nodded, furrowing his brow curiously. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go take a look at the Black library,” Harry told him.

“Harry,” Charlus cautioned, “That’s incredibly dangerous.”

Harry shrugged.

“Not really,” he replied. “The wards haven’t been properly maintained in decades. The Blacks relied more on reputation than on wards to protect them. It shouldn’t take long to get in. Honestly, I’m more worried about getting attacked by some of the books they have.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Charlus asked.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I need to take care of this on my own. I’ve got my mirror. I’ll call you if I need help.”

Charlus folded his arms and sighed unhappily.

“Alright,” he said. “Just be careful. Dorea would kill me if something happened to you.”

“I will,” Harry smiled. “Thanks, Charlus.”

Backing up a couple of steps, he turned on his heel and traced his steps back to the living room. It was empty, so he made his way over to the door and stepped outside. He followed the winding gravel driveway until he reached the end of the wards just outside the front gate and Disapparated.

Silently, he reappeared in the park on Grimmauld Place. Stuffing his hands in his pockets and palming his wand, Harry walked past numbers fourteen and thirteen. A chill ran up his spine as he neared the steps of number twelve. An Aversion Ward meant to dissuade Muggles from approaching.

Drawing his wand from his pocket, he pressed the tip against the black door. The wards were so deteriorated that it only took him a moment to feel out a weakness. The tip of his wand glowed bright red, and thin tendrils, like veins, stretched across the surface of the door. They anchored themselves where the magic was weakest, and with a slight push, the magic keeping out unwanted visitors shattered like glass.

Stuffing his wand back in his pocket, Harry opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him without anyone on the street noticing anything unusual. The inside was just as dark and creepy as usual. Fortunately, there was no portrait of Walburga on the wall. From what he remembered, she was currently in St. Mungo’s and only had weeks left to live. With Sirius and Regulus at Hogwarts, the house was empty.

Quietly, Harry walked through the familiar halls and turned into the library. As he perused the shelves, something felt off. At once, he felt as though he was forgetting something important, and as though he was being watched. He couldn’t ignore the irresistible urge to look over his shoulder. Turing his head, he caught a flash of silver and jerked out of the way. A metal cooking pot slammed into the shelf where he had been standing.

“Thief!” Kreacher spat, brandishing a serving fork.

His other hand cocked back and hurled a frying pan that Harry deflected with a swipe of his wand. With a flick, he cast a Stunning Hex, but Kreacher Disapparated before it reached him.

“Bugger,” Harry muttered.

Cautiously, with his wand at the ready, he stepped out into the hall and looked both ways. There was nothing.

“Kreacher,” he called. “It’s not what it looks like. We can talk about this.”

“How does filthy thief know Kreacher’s name?” Kreacher asked behind him.

Harry spun around. Kreacher was peeking cautiously around the corner. A saucepan sat atop his head like a helmet, and a cast-iron pan was strapped to his chest. In his right hand, he still held the fork, and in the other, cocked back and ready to throw, was a wooden rolling pin covered in flour.

Harry held up his hands placatingly.

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said rapidly. “I’m dating Narcissa and Bellatrix.”

Kreacher’s wrinkled brow furrowed.

“Filthy thief is dating mistresses?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Harry said. “And I’m not a thief. I’m just here to get some books for them.”

Kreacher narrowed his eyes and brandished the rolling pin warningly.

“Why should Kreacher trust a thief?”

Holding in his frustration, Harry slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his mirror.

“I can call her,” he said. “She can tell you herself. Narcissa Black.”

“Harry?”

His reflection in the mirror shimmered until Narcissa’s face appeared.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Someone forgot to tell Kreacher I was coming to pick up your books,” he said, glancing at her reflection pleadingly. “Can you tell him I’m supposed to be here?”

Narcissa arched a brow and pinned him with a look that meant he’d have some explaining to do when he returned to school.

“Of course,” she said.

Harry turned the mirror to face Kreacher, and he slowly lowered his rolling pin.

“Kreacher!” Narcissa barked. “Put those things away and help Harry find my belongings. I need them to finish my schooling, and I don’t have all night!”

“At once, mistress,” Kreacher said.

He bowed deeply. The saucepan fell off his head and clattered on the floor. Sighing in relief, Harry turned the mirror back around and smiled.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Narcissa said with a pointed look.

Harry winced slightly and nodded before cutting the connection and stuffing the mirror back in his pocket.

“What things is young master needing?” Kreacher asked.

“Books,” Harry replied. “I’m looking for books about dark magic. The darker the better. Stuff they wouldn’t keep at Hogwarts.”

Kreacher eyed him a bit more respectfully, but frowned.

“Kreacher cannot read,” he muttered. “But the books is being kept in the library.”

Sighing a little disappointedly that he wouldn’t get help with his search, he nodded and returned to the library. Two hours later, he had almost nothing to show for his effort. The Black Library had books on some of the darkest and most dangerous magic known to wizardkind, but only a solitary, small black book titled, Magick of thy soul, that spoke of the historical uses of soul magic without revealing how it was actually done.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a growing headache and considered his next step. He could go to the Black Manor in Wiltshire, but he doubted he’d find anything. Walburga had always kept the bulk of the Black library at Grimmauld Place. The chances of finding anything useful in Wiltshire were small. Still, it was possible. But that would have to wait until Christmas break, when he could take Bellatrix and Narcissa with him. It would be easier to get past the wards if he brought one or both of them along.

Assuming he didn’t find anything there, what could he do next? He could trace Voldemort’s steps through Europe, hoping to discover the same secrets he did, but that could take years. Besides, knowing Voldemort as well as he did, he bet the man destroyed anyone and anything regarding Horcruxes the moment he had all the information he could gain.

Sighing, he fixed his glasses. It was time to have another conversation with Dumbledore. Maybe Grindelwald had some information?

Harry left the house without running into Kreacher and replaced the wards he’d broken to get in. Making his way back to the park, he glanced briefly before Disapparating back to Potter Manor. Lost in thought, he strolled back up the driveway and into the house.

“Daddy!” Amanda yelled as soon as he stepped into the living room.

She ran up to him, Alfie nipping at her heels, and waved a fistful of purple and yellow flowers clutched in her hand.

“Look!”

“Wow,” Harry smiled. “Pretty.”

As he looked up, he was surprised to find Xenophilius and Pandora staring back at him. Dorea passed him a cup of tea before sitting back down on the sofa between Charlus and Sylvia. Harry took the chair across from them, and Amanda crawled into his lap.

“We were just going over the stories for tomorrow’s paper,” Dorea said.

“Find what you were looking for?” Charlus asked.

Harry shook his head.

“No,” he grumbled, taking the book from his pocket and placing it on the coffee table. “This is the only thing I could find.”

Pandora tilted her head so far to the side that it nearly touched the cushion next to her to read the upside-down title. Alfie nipped playfully at her dangling hair, but she showed no signs of being bothered.

“You’re reading about soul magic?” she asked curiously.

“Trying to,” Harry said cautiously. “I haven’t been able to find much on it. Just vague anecdotes and brief descriptions.”

“Soul magic has been taboo magic for quite some time,” Dorea noted.

“Well, that’s silly,” Pandora said, blinking her large, pale blue eyes. “My grandmother explored all sorts of magic until she went mad.

“Very tragic,” Xenophilius nodded. “An incurable case of Bogwillies.”

“Bogwillies?” Charlus asked.

“Did she write a book?” Harry asked before Xeno could respond.

“Yes, of course,” Pandora said, lifting her teacup and taking a sip.

Harry’s palms began to sweat as he scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward intently.

“Can I see it?”

Pandora set down her teacup. Her pale blue eyes, normally half-glazed and dreamy, suddenly focused sharply on him. It felt like she was staring directly at his soul.

“Please,” Harry said. “I can’t tell you why, but it’s extremely important.”

Pandora stared at him for a long time. Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. He hadn’t even seen the book yet, but it felt important. Suddenly, her eyes lost their intensity, and she smiled dreamily.

“Okay.”

Harry blinked in surprise. Getting to her feet, Pandora patted Xenophilius on the shoulder.

“Can you finish explaining our articles to Dorea?” she asked.

“Of course, dear,” Xenophilius smiled.

She smiled back and then marched toward the door. Harry jumped to his feet and stumbled slightly as he rushed to catch up to her. He followed out of the door and back down the driveway. As they stepped past the front gate, she came to an abrupt stop, and he nearly ran into her.

“Take my arm,” she said.

Harry grabbed the proffered arm and immediately felt like he’d been sucked into a tube. He forgot how terrible side-along Apparition felt. Thankfully, the sensation was short-lived. They reappeared in a field of waist-high grass a short distance away from the Rookery, looking just as it had the last time he’d seen it.

Pandora dropped her arm and marched towards the house. Insects and the odd Fairy jumped out of the way. Harry found himself gently swatting them out of the way, but Pandora seemed completely unaffected as she hummed softly.

They reached the house, and she led him inside. As he closed the door, Pandora uncovered a battered trunk buried under blankets, papers, and an old typewriter. Opening the trunk, she disappeared headfirst, her thighs stopping her from tumbling forward. A series of loud bangs, crashes, and the occasional grunt were all that he heard before her left hand suddenly appeared, waving wildly. Harry rushed forward and pulled her back to her feet.

“Thank you,” Pandora smiled, looking slightly dizzy. “Here you go.”

She thrust a book into his arms and skipped into the kitchen, humming under her breath. On closer inspection, Harry realized the book was really more of a battered, brown leather journal held closed by a red leather thong. Carefully, almost reverently, he untied the thong and opened the cover.

Esmeralda Olivander

He was right. It was a journal. Every page was filled with beautiful, flowing cursive, intricate diagrams, and shockingly accurate drawings. And nothing seemed to be in any particular order. On one page, he saw a rather risqué sketch of a honeymoon ritual for fertility, a drawing of a magical beetle found in Sweden, and a Charm for finding lost socks.

Then, as he flipped aimlessly through the pages, he found it. An entire page dedicated to Soul Magic. Not just a description, but an in-depth explanation of how it worked. It wasn’t exactly what he needed. Esmeralda wrote about a ritual used to enslave Veela and the process by which the bond was forcibly broken. It was a heartbreaking tale, but Harry couldn’t help but feel excitement. This was more than he’d ever seen before, and already the gears in his head were working, piecing together this new information with his existing knowledge thanks to the Elder Wand.

“You can keep that as long as you like,” Pandora said.

Harry looked up as she entered the living room with a tray of tea and sandwiches.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully.

She set the tray down on the coffee table, took a seat, and smiled.

“You have a good heart, Harry Potter. Don’t ever lose it.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised.

~

Back at Hogwarts, Narcissa sighed as she followed Bellatrix and Lily up to the seventh floor.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bellatrix hissed angrily. “Harry’s working on something, you said so yourself. We need to be ready to help him.”

Lily nodded, and Narcissa sighed again.

“You don’t have to train with us if you don’t want to,” Lily said over her shoulder.

Folding her arms over her chest, Narcissa followed them silently. Wand work wasn’t her strong suit, but she’d be damned if she was going to be the weak link. When they reached the bare wall across from Barnabus the Barmy, Bellatrix summoned the room and they walked inside. Narcissa drew her wand, ready to begin dueling. The door was just about to click closed behind her when it suddenly burst open. The three girls whipped around as James, Sirius, and Remus tumbled into the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bellatrix asked furiously.

Sirius jumped to his feet and flashed a lopsided grin. James and Sirius climbed to their feet and stood a step behind him.

“Nice place you got here,” he said, looking around the room. “I thought we knew everything about this castle.”

Bellatrix took a step forward and pressed the tip of her wand against his chest.

“What do you want?” she spat.

“Well, we couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and-”

Bellatrix’s eyes flashed angrily, and the tip of her wand sparked.

“Ow!”

“You were following us?” she hissed.

“Easy, cousin,” Sirius said, holding his hands up placatingly. “Look, if you’re going to be fighting Death Eaters, we want to help.”

James and Remus nodded their heads.

“Who said anything about fighting Death Eaters?” Narcissa asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, do I look that stupid?”

As one, the girls tilted their heads and gave him a deadpan look.

“Well, I’m not,” Sirius barked. “Harry’s up to something, and we want in. Besides, there are three of you and three of us. It works out perfectly.”

Lily, Narcissa, and Bellatrix turned to face each other. They held a silent conversation and shared a quick nod. Finally, Bellatrix lowered her wand, and Sirius let out a sigh of relief.

“Where’s Peter?” Lily asked.

“He has detention,” Remus replied. “Forgot his homework for McGonagall again.”

“He’s useless with a wand anyway,” Bellatrix said. “If you three want in, that’s fine, but Peter will only slow us down.”

The boys shared a look.

“He never likes to study,” Sirius shrugged.

“And he was never great with a wand,” James said. “I don’t think he’ll mind being left out of this one.”

The six of them looked at each other and nodded.

“Alright then,” Bellatrix said, raising her wand as a dangerous smirk stretched her lips. “Let’s get to work.”