Apprentice Potter
What the Hell Happened?
By Draco664
What the Hell Happened?
I tried to open my eyes the next morning, only to mentally swear almost as inventively as my Uncle. Someone must have crept into my room last night and somehow transfigured the inner surface of my eyelids into sandpaper. As I groaned in a generic sort of way; anyone listening would easily determine just how enthused I felt at the arrival of the sun. I heard Hedwig hoot softly, sounding very amused.
That owl's sense of humour is as refined as a bloody sledgehammer.
I groaned again, just in case the world didn't get the message the first time. It didn't make a difference though; nothing had changed just to suit a pathetic lump of flesh like myself.
Without opening my eyes, I groped around with my left hand, blindly knocking all sorts of objects off the bedside table while searching for my glasses. A sort of wet tinkle indicated that someone had placed a glass of water close to the edge of the bedside table last night.
Somehow, I just knew that it was going to be one of those days.
I tried to raise my gritty eyelids, only to shut them tightly again quickly. The light entering my bedroom window, though probably dim to someone whose eyes were used to normal daylight, felt like it was soldering my retinas to the back of my skull. Keeping my eyes shut, I got up and stumbled towards my ensuite, my joints creaking like an old wooden ship.
My brain was telling me, I can do this! I've walked this way before! No need to open our eyes.
My toes told me, Open your eyes; we're not going through this again.
I missed the door by almost a metre, and smashed the toes on my left foot into the wall.
I clenched my teeth tightly together while the toes on my left foot said, Argh! and the toes on my right said, Told you so.
~~~
Having a warm bath in complete silence and darkness is, rather peculiarly, a great way to wake up. I honestly thought that I'd probably fall asleep within a few minutes, if not seconds, of relaxing in the comfortably molded tub, but it didn't take long at all for me to blink my eyes open, even though there was nothing to see.
Though the tub was comfortable, it wasn't long enough for me to lie down completely. In order to lay my head in the water, I had to lift my feet out and rest my calves on the lip of the bath. Without anything distracting me, I took stock of how I felt.
My back was sore, probably from the rough landing on hard slate tiles after Dumbledore blew me off my feet, but under the wonderfully warm water, that pain was fading. The toes on my left foot still smarted, so I raised my knee to allow them to dip into the water.
I'm not sure how long I just lay there in the self-heating bath before my brain started functioning. Actually, more than that really.
Images, sounds, old dreams; they all flashed by in my consciousness. It amused me to begin with, and stunned me when I heard an almost familiar female laugh of joy. The only time I'd heard that voice before was when it was accompanied by a flash of green. It was with a sort of reverence that I listened to my mother laugh.
Unfortunately, since thinking about my mother brought on other, more painful feelings, it didn't take long for the memories that I had deliberately buried to come bubbling to the surface. Curiously, it was the ones I'd dumped into Dumbledore's unwitting mind that came to the fore, forcing me to relive some of the worst moments of my life so far.
I rose to my feet, more in an effort to distract myself from the memories than a desire to get out of such a deliciously comfortable bath. It worked, however, and the sudden rush of cool air across my skin quickly focused my mind.
It was not without trepidation that I opened the bathroom door, dreading the sharp stab of light. But the dim light of my bedroom, though initially requiring me to squint, wasn't as painful as I'd expected. Hedwig gave me a soft hoot of greeting, before tucking her head back beneath her wing.
"Good morning to you too, girl," I said with a smile, and began to dress.
A look at my watch told me that it was a little over an hour before my accustomed rising time, or at least the time that Blaise would normally bang her fist on my door and yell insulting things about lazy Gryffindors.
The thought of getting some payback sent a smile flirting across my face.
~~~
My mischievous mood didn't last long.
There is something dreadfully depressing about an empty room.
I had spent some small amount of time in Blaise's room, so I had been accustomed to picking my way around the discarded robes and texts piled haphazardly on the floor. I'd never been permitted to leave anything out in my bedroom at Privet Drive, so the mess just seemed to exude a sort of comfort with your surroundings that I just found warming. It did apparently drive Zab crazy though.
Standing in the middle of a perfectly tidy and empty room was the opposite. The bed, perfectly made, had obviously not been slept in the night before. I took a couple of steps towards the bed and placed my fingertips down on the soft blankets. Dry and cold.
Despite the empty room, Blaise's scent still hung in the air, making me miss her all the more. She had teased me mercilessly in my time here, and ragged me for my Gryffindor tendencies, but beneath all that, she had accepted me. She had even enjoyed herself while spending time with me. She made me feel welcome.
Being welcome is a rare enough feeling for me in the best of circumstances, but the fact that she had no reason at all to be even cordial towards me in the first place, given how we met that first night, made my sense of acceptance all the more real.
I glanced over at her desk, the desk where we had sat together reading, or at least in my case, trying to read, poetry. Now, it sat bare. Not even dust touched the surface. The house elves had done their work well. So very well.
Not knowing what else to do, I wandered back to my own room, to find a note from my Master on my own, not so clean desk.
Harry,
See me.
~~~
I cautiously entered Zab's study. You'd have expected that since the door was as imposing as any portal Hollywood has ever exhibited on the big screen, it would have had some sort of god-awful creaking hinges. The sort that make your entire spine shiver.
Nothing. The door swung open as silently as it had remained closed. Zab didn't miss my entrance though.
"Sit." he said, not looking up from his work.
I swallowed. His one word order had no threat behind it; no intonation indicating his disappointment with me. Nothing.
That made me even more nervous than I had been.
I gently sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs in front of his desk. The scratching of the peacock feather quill on parchment simply felt like scraping my nerves along chilli powder.
Finally, Zab put the quill down. "My apologies for ignoring you. With Blaise gone, I needed to get that done this morning," he said, placing the parchment into one of the many trays on his desk, where it glowed briefly and disappeared.
I blinked. Why is Blaise gone? flashed through my head, but it was only the fact that I already suspected the reason that I stopped the words from leaping to my tongue. Instead, I said, "I hope it is not because of anything I've done."
"A vain hope, under the circumstances, don't you agree?"
With a sigh, I nodded. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Zab asked pointedly.
Something told me to formulate my answer very carefully. I certainly wasn't sorry for attacking Dumbledore, even though it made my life even more complicated. But I did have something that I was sorry for. "For causing Blaise to leave early."
Zab nodded, apparently satisfied. "I do enjoy Blaise's visits, and I'm sorry this one was cut short. However, she told me what happened yesterday, and to maintain my privacy, she understood that she needed to go back into the world." He stood up and walked over to the high window, his hands clasped behind his back. "Albus will be rather annoyed I'd imagine. Since Blaise was with you when you disappeared, she will undoubtedly be questioned as to your whereabouts."
"Dumbledore will probably use Legilimancy to get his answers." I said glumly, calming somewhat after it appeared that Zab wasn't going to explode. "While he won't be able to read her mind, he will be able to tell if she is lying to him."
Zab nodded, still looking out the window. "Blaise suggested that too. Do not worry overly much. Her father is quite capable and will see to it that Albus does not overstep his bounds when speaking to her." Zab turned back to me. "All that now needs to be discussed is your behaviour yesterday."
Immediately, my heart rate doubled. "If you are referring to how I acted towards Dumbledore, I don't think I had a choice." I said, trying to at least sound confident, but my voice let me down.
"You always have a choice, Harry. Life is about making choices. Tell me, would have been wrong with agreeing to go with Albus, then using the portkey I gave you once you were back home?"
"Well, for starters, the wards on my relative's house would probably be set up to track portkey usage. Dumbledore would have been able to find his way to the pub."
The look on Zab's face instantly told me that my answer had not been a good one.
"Perhaps you are unaware of the concept of walking. You place one foot in front of the other, and then allow your centre of gravity to sway forward. Before you fall over, you then place your other foot-"
"I know what walking is!" I growled.
"Curious. Given that I'm sure you know that wards only cover a specified area, I was forced to assume you had no idea that you could walk outside them."
I closed my eyes and mentally berated myself, feeling my face flush hot. "I didn't think it through, that's all. All I knew is that I didn't want to go with him, and I didn't want to betray your location."
Zab shook his head. "By refusing to sacrifice a pawn, you've put a bishop in danger. It's obvious you are not a good chess player."
There was nothing I could say to that. Ron had repeatedly ground my dignity into the dirt by beating me at chess each and every game we played. He'd even managed it without losing a single piece, on occasion.
Zab continued. "The security mechanisms placed around this manor are extensive, but also layered. The first, as you've seen, is a level of obfuscation. By hiding the entrance, it is difficult to find unless you know where it is."
I nodded. "Professor Moody knows where the pub is, but you can only get to the Manor if you have the special floo powder that allows travel between the pub and here."
Zab snapped his fingers. "Exactly. That is both the second and third level of defense I've established around this property. Now, in chess, you can sacrifice anything but the king to give you an advantage or take away a disadvantage, as long as the benefit outweighs the loss of the piece. Giving up this obfuscation level of security, since it has other, more robust levels behind it, has less impact than sacrificing a pawn."
"Less impact? I doubt that."
"Can you add pawns to a chessboard after they have been removed?"
It took me a few seconds to get what he was driving at. "You can stop using the pub at any time! You could set up another entrance anywhere."
Zab lowered his head, but kept looking straight at me from under his eyebrows.
It took me another few seconds to realise what I'd got wrong. "Oh, I'm an idiot. You already have other entrances ready to be used."
Zab smiled. "Though it does take you a while, you don't disappoint, Harry. Once you get into the habit of thinking through your ideas to their logical conclusion, you won't make the same sort of errors of judgement. I'm beginning to think that you may well become a very dangerous young man one day."
I blushed at his compliment. "Thank you."
"But I do need you to give me your perspective on yesterday's events. Blaise was rather explicit about things that had to do with you, but was more than a little vague about things that had to do with her."
Ah. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not sure I can help a great deal there. She and Hermione had words with each other, but I wasn't there to listen in."
"Had words?"
I shrugged, more than a little uncomfortable. "Ginny told me that I had no idea when two girls had feelings for me. I guess Hermione was telling Blaise to stay away from me."
Zab gave me a knowing smile and ran the tips of thumb and forefinger around the edge of his goatee. "That would make sense, given Blaise's reticence to explain what occurred between her and your muggle-born friend. What about when you met Albus?"
I felt a flash of anger at the memory, but I drew a deep lungful of air and let both the breath and anger go. "Hermione tried to distract him, so that Blaise and I could leave, but he saw through her lie and met us in front of the fireplace."
"Are you sure that this Hermione didn't tell Albus where you were?"
I shook my head emphatically. "She can't lie to save her life." I said with a wry grin.
Zab acknowledged my response with a nod. "Continue."
I struggled briefly to put what happened into words. "Dumbledore stood in front of the fire, blocking our way out. We danced around each other for a bit, then let loose."
Zab suddenly appeared to be irritated. "Yes, thank you Harry. Now would you tell me what happened, since I already got that level of detail from my Great-granddaughter."
I bit my lip to stop myself from snapping back. "Do you remember the lesson you were trying to teach me?"
"Naturally."
"Well, as I was staring Dumbledore down, it came to me. I was feeling so angry that he was going to take me back to where I didn't want to go, so I just channelled my anger into my magic. It was just what I'd been doing all summer, but deliberately, not accidentally."
Zab leaned back in his chair. "Ah, now this is where it gets interesting. Blaise said that you cast legilimens at Albus, and that both of you fell to the ground. I thought she was exaggerating, since I doubt you have the skill or power under normal circumstances to break through the defenses of such an accomplished wizard as Albus Dumbledore. But channelling rage into a mental discipline such as Legilimancy..." Zab shook his head as his voice trailed off for a moment, before he cleared his throat and again focused his attention on me. "Well, it certainly appeared to be effective."
I shook my head. "It worked, sort of, to start with. But he did manage to chuck me out of his mind."
Zab nodded. "That would be when you tried to stun him?"
"Yeah. It was almost a reflex action on my part, it was the only thing I could think of at the time and I didn't really expect it to succeed. It came close though, even though it didn't. It took him a massive effort to deflect it. I realised then just how much I'd drained him."
Zab eyed me carefully, evaluating my words. "Well, I must say that I'm quite impressed with the way you conducted the duel, not with how you failed to avoid the duel in the first place. No matter how much rage you had, there was no way you could have bested Albus, so don't feel bad that you didn't manage to defeat him."
"Yeah, I suppose. I just wonder how Ron feels now."
Zab actually chuckled. "Your friend with the damaged poker? I imagine his actions would be weighing rather heavily on his mind this morning. You'd best write to him and help him work through his fears. Which brings us rather neatly to the other reason I needed to talk with you." Zab picked up his wand from his desk and cast a summoning spell.
A birdcage flew towards him, and he caught it deftly. Inside, a furious Pig flapped his wings and hooted his indignation.
"A curious bird, this one. I don't believe I've ever seen such a pathetically tiny delivery owl."
"Ginny gave me him in a package-"
"I am aware of how you received it. I was merely commenting on the creature itself." Zab peered even closer at the indignant Pig. "Oh, yes, such a creature definitely deserves comment."
"Blaise said that you might allow him to deliver mail here," I said, and I could hardly keep the hope out of my voice.
"She suggested such to me also. I have no objection, but I do have a few conditions."
I nodded, feeling a welcome sensation of, well, actually being able to contact my friends. I'm not sure there's a word for it. "I assume the conditions are things like how often we use him."
"Frequency, yes. But destination, content and security feature in my conditions as well."
Destination? "Do you mean-, damn, um..."
Zab sighed, an amused play on his lips. "Do not bother contorting your meaning into a statement rather than a question, Harry. Though I do enjoy your verbal gymnastics on occasion, I will spell out how this... Pig," he said, enunciating the name just like Edmund Blackadder would, "is to be used."
"Thank you."
Zab waved his hand, dismissing my gratitude. "There is no need to thank me, I knew that I had to develop a method of communication for you at some point. Not many people prefer to have the miniscule amount of contact I maintain with the world.
"Now, the owl will not make more than one round trip a week, and it must use different days. You will floo to a different point in the country before sending any message with this owl. That will change the direction and distance it needs to fly to reach its destination. While I would prefer to review any correspondence, I understand that you have some expectation of privacy. I will therefore ask that apart from simply writing, 'I cannot comment', you do not supply any information regarding our location to any question your friends have."
"Of course. I've already told them I can't tell them that."
"Good. I shall also provide you with a spell designed to nullify any tracking charms for a short duration, which I expect you to use on the owl before sending him on his way. I wish there were some way to ensure the spell was cast before the owl was sent to you."
I tilted my head to one side. "We could get my friends to send Pig to Blaise first. She could then cast the spell herself, or get her parents to cast it, before she sends him onto me."
The blank expression on Zab's face was one I knew I'd learn to cherish. The look that meant, Why didn't I think of that.
~~~
Dear Blaise,
I'm really sorry you had to leave early. I did enjoy spending time with you, and I wanted to thank you for making me feel welcome. I intend to visit Hogsmeade on occasion during the year, more than likely on certain weekends. Make sure you don't get a detention from Dumbledore.
Zab agreed to let me use Pig, so long as I agree to certain things. One thing I did want to ask you. Can Ron and Hermione send their letters to you, for you to forward onto me? Your parents will need to cast the nullify charm they use on their own mail owls beforehand though.
I've attached a letter for them to Pig. Could you please send him on for me?
Thanks again, Blaise. For everything.
Harry.
~~~
Dear Ron, Hermione and Ginny,
Pig has been a rather rude houseguest, hooting and generally being a pest, but he will be able to make weekly trips to visit me. If you send him to Blaise, I'll get your letters.
It's good to know that we can write to each other again. Don't take this the wrong way Ron, but my host couldn't believe how pathetically tiny Pig is, and that's the reason he's letting me use Pig to deliver our letters. No Death Muncher would think about stopping a feathery mouse.
I'm sorry I didn't get to spend more time with you guys the other day. Recently, it seems that every time something in my life goes right, someone out there decides to do something about it.
Anyway, I won't be returning to Hogwarts.
Stop panicking, Hermione. I will get an education. If you think about it, you'll figure out how. If you can't, ask Remus.
I'm not under arrest or anything like that, so I will be able to visit. Make sure you don't get detentions on Hogsmeade weekends and that you come home during the holidays.
You know, now that I think about it, Dumbledore would probably make sure you don't have detentions on Hogsmeade weekends, just so he can have you followed to see if you meet me. Ron, you may be able to use that to your advantage. I expect to see Malfoy with a couple of black eyes on the first weekend.
With any luck, I'll be able to see you again soon, but it will be after my birthday. I'll send you the date of my next visit in advance, so there are no more surprises.
Take care guys,
Harry.
~~~
The next week passed surprisingly quickly. Zab refused to start training me on anything else other than Occlumancy, stating that since it was the holidays, I should be using the time to relax and enjoy my time.
I spent most of it either reading in his main library or flying around the quadrangle on my Firebolt. I still had flashes of anger as my thoughts dwelled occasionally on Dumbledore or Voldemort, but with my ever-developing Occlumancy skills, I was able to keep a lid on my temper.
My scar prickled occasionally as well, but curiously, my newly developed mental defenses also blocked that wonderful little connection. So rather than giving me pain and visions, my scar was occasionally just a little itchy.
A much more pleasant state of affairs.
One item Zab introduced me to was his family pensieve. That's not what he called it, but that is in effect what it is. Zabinis throughout the centuries have placed memories in it, making the bath-sized container an incredible resource.
Imagine being able to watch Mozart perform his first symphony at six years of age.
Or sitting in the best seats of the house at the premier of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Or a lecture on the properties of alchemical substances, given by Leonardo Da Vinci.
Zab insisted on being present when I used the pensieve, since it contained some pretty disturbing memories too, including a front row seat at an address given by the Marquis de Sade and some rather graphic burnings of muggles accused of witchcraft. But for the most part, the contents were benign, but notable historic events that simply fascinated me.
We were watching the opening ceremony of the 1896 Olympics when Pig made his return appearance, holding a bundle of parchments larger than he was.
As I struggled to undo the package, Zab covered the pool of memories. "Unless there is something addressed to me from Blaise, I shall leave you to your correspondence."
I glanced at the writing on the first parchment. "I don't think so, the first one is from Blaise, and she says that they're all addressed to me."
Zab nodded. "Make sure you check for a magical signature on the parchment, to ensure there are no portkeys there before you read them." he said on his way out.
I drew my wand and muttered a detection spell, designed to make any enchanted object glow. Nothing in my hand lit up, though the majority of the room's contents cast some sort of light.
I sat back into my armchair and placed the bundle on the side table. I grabbed Blaise's cover letter and started to read.
Potter,
I have no idea how someone as antisocial as you manage to get so much correspondence, but this huge stack is all yours.
And I am sorry I had to leave too. I wish I could have been there when you woke up, if only to complain about just how awkward you are to carry around. Great-grandfather told me that you were just magically exhausted, but you really scared me.
The headmaster came around the day after Weasley brained him with the poker. I'll tell you this, that boy has risen in my estimation. Believe it or not, Dumbledore actually thinks you did something to him!
The interview itself wasn't exactly pleasant. For a while there I didn't think he would leave. Suffice to say that while I'm pretty sure he knew I was lying when I said I didn't know where you were, he didn't find out anything. I'm a little worried though, to tell you the truth. For all his grandfatherly airs, Dumbledore can be pretty frightening.
I'll close with an observation and a question that you may or may not want to answer. From the way Dumbledore was acting, you'd think it was the end of the world if you weren't found and returned to your relatives. Exactly why are you so important?
Your (Slytherin) friend,
Blaise.
I put down Blaise's letter and thought deeply. I had told her things that I'd kept from everyone, even Hermione and Ron. It was odd, but I felt that having someone else I felt comfortable around made it easier to talk to, and easier to examine my feelings.
It was good to know that Dumbledore had not hurt her, but I was annoyed that he had gone to all the trouble of trying to intimidate her just to find out where I was.
I reached for the next letter in the pile, which turned out to be from Ginny.
Dear Harry,
I have got so many things to say to you, I don't know where to start. First of all, I thought for a while there that you weren't going to send Pig back to us. Ron threw a major tantrum when he found out that I'd sent his owl away with you, and only calmed down when Pig arrived the next day. Only to have him just about explode again once he read your letter.
Why do we have to send mail to you via Blaise Zabini of all people? Are you still staying with her? Not that I mind that, it's quite nice to know that you are safe and hidden so well that not even Dumbledore can find you, but are you sure you can trust her?
About Dumbledore. Well, my first reaction was to mimic my mother and yell at you for what you did, but I thought about it for a bit and realised that Dumbledore himself came looking for a fight. I think he knew that you wouldn't go back home to your relatives with him. Not that I blame you or anything.
But Harry, he did come and save us all at the Ministry. You know this, and after you came out of his office that night you were... different. What did he say to you? What did he tell you that could make you so angry? With the whole world?
I'll understand if you don't want to tell me, but at least tell Ron or Hermione. Actually, PLEASE tell Ron, it will do something to take his mind off the fact that he brained the most powerful wizard in the world with a poker. Or, judging from your anger, at least make him feel like Dumbledore deserved it.
There are so many more things I want to say to you, but if I write too much more, Pig will never be able to carry it all. I'll only say, please stay safe, even if only so my stupid brother doesn't have a heart attack and Hermione doesn't die of worry.
Love,
Ginny
I put Ginny's letter down on top of Blaise's. She was right about Dumbledore looking for a fight, he was ready to take me back by force. It wouldn't surprise me if he actually burns whatever good will he still has at the Ministry and gets them on his side. I decided that I'd best be careful whenever I was to be away from here.
The sight of the handwriting of the next letter on the pile caused me to pause, and draw my wand again. As a precaution, I again cast the detection spell, to ensure that Dumbledore's letter wasn't a portkey or anything.
Please Harry, for the sake of the trust you once had in me, I beg you to read this letter.
Well, it would appear that I have made even more mistakes over the last few weeks than I believed. I have, unfortunately, succumbed to the same sin that Voldemort has in abundance, underestimating you.
I cannot say that I am angry with your decisions, not after you supplied me with your rather unenjoyable memories, but I am disappointed that you feel that self-imposed exile is your best choice. However, as much as I wish things were different, I must accept that you not only have made your own choices, but you also have the power to stand fast to them.
Where and when you developed these skills, I do not know. I do have some large concerns about the fact that they appear to be more than somewhat dark in nature. I understand that advice from myself is particularly unwelcome to you at present, so I ask that you consider what I am about to suggest as coming from all your professors at Hogwarts as a whole, rather than just from myself.
Please do not be tempted to delve too deeply into the Dark Arts. There have been too many good witches and wizards who did so in the past, only to find themselves changed for the worse by the experience. I would not be the only person who cares for you who would be upset to see such a wonderful young man corrupted.
You are a wonderful young man, Harry. I feel privileged to have known you and to have had a hand in your upbringing, even though we both know that I have made some terrible mistakes. I pray to any being listening that you will be able to let go of your anger, even if it means that I am never permitted into your life again.
Oh, whatever spell you used to incapacitate me at the Burrow worked remarkably well, to the point that I had a splitting headache until I managed to reach Poppy's tender care. I am still trying to figure it out.
I will close with something I hope will give you some peace of mind.
The governors of Hogwarts have been rather defensive in their decisions ever since it was demonstrated that Lucius Malfoy was in fact a Death Eater. As many of them received substantial donations before voting with Mr. Malfoy in the past, their autonomy has been brought into question. As such, I have been given full authority over school matters until an investigation is carried out into their affairs.
You will always have a place here at Hogwarts, Harry. Your bed will not be removed from Gryffindor Tower.
Take care,
Albus Dumbledore.
I slapped Dumbledore's letter down firmly on top of Ginny's. I was not going to fall for the fatherly forgiven act. After all, if only a week ago he was ready to knock me out to force me back to my relatives, he's unlikely to have given up on that goal just because he got whacked on the bald patch with a sodding blunt instrument.
I picked up the next letter.
Dear Harry,
I am sending this to the Weasleys, hoping against hope that you will contact them and allow them to contact you. I will keep this brief, though I want to write more.
I am sorry for how things have moved in your life. You seem to get far larger servings of every problem than usual adolescents get. For not being there when I should have been, I'm sorry. For not being there for you when I could have been, I'll not forgive myself.
I have told no one about your apprenticeship. Albus had been almost raging at Alastor after your disappearance, but he has now settled into a sort of resigned calm. I think Albus finally realises that he cannot manipulate you and your life any longer without being called to account. Do not think that he will not try in the future however, he will just be more subtle.
He did admit that he was perplexed at how you managed to render him unconscious during your little showdown, a mystery that puzzled me too, I must admit, until a certain Weasley male came to me with something that weighed on his mind. Whatever else you have done in this life, the loyalty you command in others is your finest achievement.
I wish we had more time to talk, Harry. There are certain things we do need to discuss, not the least being Sirius's will. There are a few trinkets here that he wanted you to have. But that can wait until you are both emotionally and physically ready. Not to mention, safe.
Please drop me a note if and when you can, if only to let an old werewolf worry less about you.
You are by far old enough to make decisions for yourself regarding your future. I will stand by you as long as I am able. I owe you, Lily and James that much.
Love,
Remus.
I whipped my glasses off and savagely wiped the hot tears forming in my eyes away with the back of my hand. While I had managed to think about Sirius from time to time over the last few weeks without the usual bubbling anger bursting, it still hurt. It hurt so much.
Now, the pain came rushing back, like it had never left. The idea that I would profit from his death sickened me, my guilt at being the cause of his death redoubling.
I dropped Remus's letter on the table and stood up, moving over to the fireplace. I put my hands on the mantle, and leaned forward, wanting nothing more than to have Sirius back with me.
I stood there for a while, chanting under my breath, "Stop it, stop it, stop it." Finally, the stinging pain in my gut weakened.
The next letter was a little more upbeat, and managed to make me smile.
Dear Harry,
Oh, you are the most irritating, wonderful, painful, magnificent, heartless git, you know that? I was worried to death about you for days, then you show up, with a Slytherin girlfriend no less, turn our lives upside down, and cause Ron to technically attempt to commit suicide. That is what attacking the most powerful wizard in the world is defined as, you know.
To think that Ron was worried that being confined to the Burrow meant that the holidays would be dull.
Please, please, please, tell me what is going on! I need to know, Harry. Remus knows something, but he isn't letting on. Merlin, Harry, I'm dying here, not knowing where you are, if you are safe.
My father was pleased to finally meet you, even though he knows that you weren't exactly at your best. He told me to extend an invitation to come to our house for dinner one night. Please come, Harry! Just pick a night that is good for you and let me know. It will be nice to finally get to talk to you by myself for a time.
Hermione's letter continued for some time, delving into her own self study routine she had adopted during the holidays in lieu of assigned schoolwork. I'm sure Ron would consider her completely bonkers. Oh, and she was quite proud of getting an O for all her OWLs, since she mentioned it three times. Like I'd ever expected her to do any different.
I hope I haven't bored you, but we do need to keep ahead in our studies. Mr. Weasley told us that he had given you your results. How did you go? Will you be able to become an auror?
Please write back soon, Harry. I miss you terribly.
All my love,
Hermione.
I sighed as I lowered her letter. After Ginny pointed out that both Blaise and Hermione liked me, perhaps a little differently than just friends, I was a little better at picking up some of these subtle clues.
I guessed that Hermione referring to Blaise as a Slytherin girlfriend wasn't a term of endearment.
I sighed again and put the letter on the read pile. It was obvious that Blaise didn't tell her exactly what had gone on between us. I'd have to clarify that Blaise and I were just friends.
The words for now popped into my mind.
I shook my head to clear it, and grabbed the next letter.
Dear Harry,
Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for what happened after I flooed Albus. I never expected that he would act as he did. It was inexcusable on both our parts, putting you in that situation.
But please, think about coming home. I know that you are not legally my son, but I've thought of you as one of my own ever since you turned up at our breakfast table that first morning. I don't think you understand just how horrifying it is not to know where someone you love deeply is, or if they are safe.
I will leave telling you the news to the children. They miss you so much, even more than Arthur and I.
Be safe, and know that you always have a home at the Burrow.
Molly (& Arthur) Weasley.
I picked up the last, surprisingly short letter.
Hey Harry!
What the hell have I done? I attacked Dumbledore! Why the hell did I do that? Oh, man, I haven't been able to sleep properly for days.
Look, I know that you've got some things you need to work through, so I'll just say that I'm here for you. I couldn't write a coherent letter right now to save my life, so I'll wait until the next time I see you.
You are coming here for your birthday, aren't you?
Ron.
I blinked. My birthday. I had no idea what I was going to do.
I drew my wand and summoned a quill and parchment, and began to write my replies.
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