Harry Potter and the Book of Shadows

Voldemort's Army

As Lupin, Persephone, Ron, Harry, and Ginny hurried through the light snow back toward the Underground station, they walked by several Muggle shops with brightly decorated windows. Passing an electronics store, Harry noticed all the televisions in the window were set to a news station.

The newscaster's lively voice sounded over the bustle of the street, "And in world weather news, severe weather alerts have been announced for the entire eastern cost of the United States, in what some meteorologists are calling the worst weather they've seen in years. Janet?"

Lupin stopped in front of the window, causing the others to halt as well.

"The entire eastern seaboard of the United States is experiencing extreme winter weather patterns. The northern parts are currently in what seems to be just the beginning of severe blizzard conditions that haven't been seen since the winter of 1888 and are already recording snowfalls smashing previous records. High winds and torrential downpours are relentlessly pounding Florida's coast, rainfall exceeding record levels."

The female weathercaster looked serious as the camera zoomed in. "Many travelers have been severely delayed due to storm conditions. Major airports from Maine to Georgia have been shut down, as well as numerous highways in many of the New England states. A state of emergency has been declared in several states and everyone is urged to stay in their homes and travel as little as possible. So far, ten deaths have been attributed to the severe winter weather."

The anchor looked solemn as the camera panned back to him, "Well, we hope it all clears up soon and everyone safely reaches their family and friends for the holidays..."

Persephone looked at Lupin quizzically, obviously wondering why he seemed so concerned. After a moment, a look of horrified surprise crossed her face. Harry looked to Ron and Ginny, but they didn't seem to understand what had them looking so concerned, either.

Glancing down the street, Persephone seemed to catch sight of something and turned, indicating the others to follow. "Come with me."

She set a quick pace, deftly weaving in and out of the crowds, though sure not to lose any of them. Lupin made sure they weren't separated, bringing up the rear, just behind Ron. Harry stopped in confusion when she held open the door to an Internet cafe, ushering them inside. Ron and Ginny looked around the interior, interested, and Harry realized they had probably never seen a computer, let alone a cafe specifically designed for their use. Persephone headed to the back of the room, away from the few people seated near the windows facing the street and started typing furiously.

Harry looked on in surprise as she typed something in the address bar that ended in .wizweb. "You know how to use a computer?"

She spared a second to shoot him a caustic look. "In the US, everyone is required to take at least one year of Muggle Studies. If you want to work in any kind of government job, you need at least four, plus pass the Muggle technologies exam. Quite frankly, I don't know how your government has avoided computers for so long." Watching from behind her chair, they saw she was calling up everything she could find on the weather phenomenon in the US.

"Are you worried about your friends back home?" Ginny asked, concerned.

Persephone shook her head and pointed at the monitor. Pictures of people huddled against raging winds, struggling through mountains of white snow filled the screen. "Severe weather in one of the most populated parts of the US. Unnaturally severe. Do you have any idea what would be causing this?"

She seemed to think they should know the answer. Harry frowned. "You don't think Vold-" he looked around and dropped his voice, "is causing this?"

The others looked just as confused. Frowning herself, she looked to Lupin, "I thought they covered dementors already."

"Well, they know more than most their age. And these three have already learned the Patronus Charm," Lupin said. "Though I wish I had spent more time..."

Ron said, hesitantly, "Well, we know the only thing that'll stop them is the Patronus Charm and they survive by sucking the happiness out of people. What does that have to do with blizzards?"

Lupin decided to fill them in as quickly as possible. "When there are lots of dementors, or more specifically, when they start breeding, they have an effect on the local weather. Fog, rain," He pointed at the people struggling through deep snowdrifts, "snow and ice when it's already cold. But usually it's just a slight change."

Reading to herself, Persephone muttered, "The Department of Magriculture is looking into it as a possible cause due to the Azkaban news, but so far the official report is it's just a bad storm." She gave a derisive snort. "Considering your government isn't passing out the information You-Know-Who is back, I can't say I'm surprised."

Harry had a sudden sinking feeling. "This is bad, isn't it?"

Ginny looked at the screen, confused. "So the dementors that left Azkaban are breeding. But why in the US? Why not here?"

A few keystrokes later, Persephone called up two pictures, one showing a population density map of the US, and one of Great Britain.

Harry could only think of one reason dementors would need that many more people to fuel themselves. The fact it was ruining people's holidays and building bad feelings only fed into the vicious cycle. He stared at the pictures, a cold lead weight landing in his stomach. "An army. He's building an army."

Ron's eyes widened, Ginny blanched. Lupin looked disturbed. "I think you might be right. We should go."

Persephone turned off the computer and paid at the front counter. They hurried back outside and toward the station. The ride back was quiet, no one seemed to want to discuss anything further. Not that Harry thought talking about it in the middle of a crowded Underground train would have been the best idea, anyway, but the uncomfortable silence left them all feeling a bit disconcerted.

Once back inside Number Twelve, Lupin turned to Persephone. "Dumbledore needs to know as soon as possible."

She nodded in response. "I'll tell him as soon as I get back."

They noted she hadn't removed her coat like the rest of them. Ginny frowned. "You're not staying to help decorate?"

Harry had completely forgotten why they had gone out in the first place. Though, eying the numerous bags he'd been hauling around, he wondered how.

Persephone shook her head. "I've been gone long enough. Thanks for letting me stay." She hugged Lupin and sighed as she opened the front door. "At least I won't have to walk all the way from the gate in the dark."

Lupin bid her goodbye and picked up several of the bags Harry had been carrying and took them into the drawing room. Ron and Ginny waved goodbye and turned to follow him.

Harry stood in the hallway, thinking about Voldemort's dementor army and what it could mean. Just as the front door clicked shut, Harry ran for it and yanked it back open. In mid-step, Persephone turned around in surprise.

"Harry, something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"No, well...not really. I was just..." Harry stopped uncertainly. It had been a spur of the moment thought and now he felt a bit foolish asking. Raising her eyebrows in a silent prompt, Persephone waited patiently, still half-turned toward the steps. Long repressed frustration spurred Harry on. "I was just wondering, how come no one ever gives me a straight answer? I mean when we asked about the dementors just now, but other times, too. Why won't you just tell me what's going on?"

Harry almost winced at how childish that had sounded and her expression did nothing to make him feel better.

Still, she looked him squarely in the eye when she replied, "Do you honestly think Voldemort is just going to hand you the answers, Harry?"

And with a loud crack, she was gone, leaving Harry staring at the place she had been. He understood what she meant, and had to admire the fact she'd managed to avoid telling him what he wanted to know outright even then. It wasn't until he was back inside the warmth of Number Twelve that he realized she'd said Voldemort's name. Harry shook the thought off as he joined the others. After all, Dumbledore and Lupin said his name, and so had Sirius.

Lupin was just leaving the drawing room as Harry entered. "The tree's all set. I'm going to see if I can get word about the weather patterns to Molly or Arthur. Maybe they've heard something at the Ministry."

Harry merely nodded. Joining the others in the drawing room, Harry tried to let the festive scent of fresh pine chase away the darker aspects of their outing. Ron and Ginny were already amidst the piles of decorations he'd bought, stringing out garland and removing the new pieces from various packages. Crookshanks, lazing in front of the fire had looked up and, not seeing his mistress arrive, dismissed the rest of them as unimportant.

As Ginny untangled a long string of softly glowing lights, Harry thought they looked exactly like Muggle Christmas lights. When he mentioned it, Ron told him they were simply strings of glass balls enchanted with a Glow Charm. In essence, they were the same, except the wizard version had no risk of electrocution or possibly setting fire to the tree. Once she had finally undone the tangle of cord, Ginny stood on a chair and began draping it carefully over the branches. On the floor, the end of the lights moved in a jerky, wounded motion, catching the interest of Crookshanks. He rolled over and crouched into a tense position, watching the string of lights intently. Harry and Ron had stopped what they were doing to watch, exchanging a smile. Just as Crookshanks pounced, another fuzzy blur landed on the end of the lights.

There was a yowl and a screech as the cats startled each other, then immediately began fighting. Bits of fur flew in all directions as the snarling ball rolled around the floor. Ginny had turned on her chair yelling, "No! Stop that!" to no avail.

Harry's first instinct was to separate the cats, but thought better of sticking his hands into the scratching, biting mess. Ron just looked on helplessly, obviously torn between concern and laughter. Spotting a vase of flowers, Ginny hopped off her chair and grabbed it. Pulling out the bouquet, she quickly dumped the dirty water over the hissing and yowling fur. Cats scattered in opposite directions. Crookshanks bolted out the door and up the stairs to Hermione's room and Noir shot under the settee in the corner. The three looked at each other in startled silence for a moment then burst into laughter.

After a moment, Ginny managed, "Oh, it's not funny at all, they might be hurt, but did you see the look on Crookshank's face just now?"

"You should have seen him when he landed on Pest instead of the lights," Ron gasped.

Still giggling, Ginny went back to stringing the cord over the tree, saying they should let both cats settle down before trying to assess any injuries. Once she was finished with the lights, Ron started handing her ornaments from the old boxes. Harry joined in, decorating the bottom of the tree while Ginny and Ron worked on the top and middle. Harry took much longer than the other two, as he took his time examining each one before hanging it, wondering who had bought it and why and for whom. Had Sirius bought any of these? Would they have had special meaning to him? Harry wished he had thought to ask the year before. Ginny's exclamation of delight brought him out of his melancholy thoughts and he saw Ron had opened the set of glittery glass balls Harry had purchased earlier that day.

Ron had just hung a delicate patchwork ornament and said, "Hey Gin, remember those ornaments we made for Mum?"

Ginny looked down at the one her brother had just hung. "Oh, those cloth ones that look like little quilt balls? Ugh, I don't know why she insists on putting them up every year. They're ghastly."

Ron agreed and they reminisced about how horribly the different patterns of cloth clashed, since they had used whichever scraps they could find in their mother's sewing basket with no thought to coordination or style. Harry felt a twinge of sadness at their happy chatter. He had an inkling as to why Mrs. Weasley had saved them and used them year after year. While his Aunt Petunia was not nearly as wonderful as Ron and Ginny's mum, she did love Dudley and kept every childish scrawl and tacky craft project he'd done since he'd first been able to wrap a chubby fist around a crayon. While Harry had never been allowed to participate in the Dursley's Christmas activities growing up, he had borne witness to the results. Their carefully decorated tree bore a hundred ham-fisted Dudley creations among the fine glass baubles and frilly bows. Harry had learned early and well where any of his school crafts would end up and so, saved Aunt Petunia the trouble by dumping them in the rubbish bin just outside the school.

Harry shook himself. No, he would not allow the Dursleys to continue to ruin his holidays. He was here now, in his own house, with his own friends, decorating his own tree. Stepping back, he admired the effect. Sirius' old ornaments shone and glittered among the few new ones Harry had bought. Ginny handed Harry a handful of velvet bows and they finished the tree by attaching them to various branch tips.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely!" Ginny oohed when the three of them stepped back to see how they had done.

Ron found some of the strings of bright red berries. "Do you want these on there too, or is this for somewhere else?"

Ginny answered first, "I think it would clash a bit with the bows. We could twist it up with the pine garland for the stairs and the doorways."

Harry nodded at her suggestion. Suddenly he laughed. Ron gave him a funny look and asked, "What?"

Harry shook his head. "I was just remembering. One year the Dursleys decided to do popcorn strings for the tree. For every piece my aunt and uncle strung, Dudley ate a whole handful. When they were done, the string was maybe two feet long." For once not feeling the injustice of being left out, he added, "The next year they used cranberries instead."

Ron and Ginny laughed. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, Harry turned to see Lupin smiling from the doorway, though he could see the worry lingering behind it.

"Lovely tree," he said, admiringly. "No one was at the Burrow, which I suppose means both your parents are still at the Ministry. We'll have to wait until tonight to see what they might have heard."

"Can't you just talk to Dad in his office by Floo network?" Ron asked. His forehead wrinkled. "Hey, why we didn't use that to get to Diagon Alley today?"

Lupin picked up a length of garland and began copying Ginny's winding of the red berries through the pine boughs. "We could, but we're trying to limit the Floo activity from the house as much as possible. The network's not being watched as closely by the Ministry as it was last year, but still..." Lupin trailed off meaningfully. "We try to limit it to emergencies."

Harry thought of the previous night when Lupin had used Floo powder to talk to Dumbledore on his behalf. He supposed the potential that Voldemort was still breaking into his mind had seemed enough of an emergency. Avoiding everyone's eyes, Harry looked down into the box he was rooting through and held up a sprig of mistletoe. His worrisome thoughts were suddenly replaced by a memory that caused Harry to feel an odd mix of happiness and embarrassment. Still smiling to himself, he looked up and saw Ron smirking at him. Quickly, he threw the mistletoe back in the box.

"What was that unearthly racket just now?" Lupin asked as he started on another length of garland. "That's actually why I came up here."

Grateful for the topic change, Harry replied, "Pest and Crookshanks. They tried to pounce on the same string of lights and got each other instead. Ginny actually had a brilliant idea to break them up with the water from the..." Harry trailed off, distracted by the look on Ginny's face. She was staring at the box in front of Harry, looking all at once wistful and terribly sad.

Lupin, having spotted a pair of eyes under the settee reflecting the firelight, hadn't noticed anything amiss and after a moment of struggle, triumphantly pulled out a resistant and ruffled Pest. Harry looked back to Ginny, but she was once again winding garland and didn't look as though anything was wrong at all. Confused, Harry returned to sorting through the bits left in the bottom of the box. Lupin pronounced Pest unharmed and let the disgruntled kitten loose. Instead of bolting out the door, Pest immediately headed for Ginny, rubbing against her and purring.

"Can't imagine why he'd pick you after you dumped water all over him," Ron said disbelievingly.

Ginny shrugged as she paused to pet the kitten. "Maybe he knows I was just trying to help."

"It was a brilliant idea," Harry said and was thankful when Ginny smiled in response.

She was acting so normally Harry was beginning to think he had only imagined her expression. Pushing it from his mind, he focused on directing the others as they put up the rest of the decorations. With Lupin's help, they had the entire entry, kitchen and the occupied bedrooms festively decorated by the time Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived for dinner. With all the Aurors caught up at the Ministry, and most everyone else busy with their own holiday preparations, it was just the six of them.

Mr. Weasley had only heard someone mention odd weather patterns in passing, but resolved to look into it more closely when Lupin told them about the news report they had seen earlier in the day. Ron's prediction that Hermione would choose to go home with her newly released parents was correct, and everyone was relieved to hear the inquiry had gone well. Relaying the message Hermione would rejoin them Christmas Day, Mrs. Weasley asked if Crookshanks was getting along with Pest well enough that they wouldn't have to arrange to bring him to Hermione's. Assuring her that he would be no trouble at all, Lupin ignored Harry, Ron, and Ginny when they started snickering. Lupin invited the Weasleys to stay the night, but they declined. With assurances they'd be by the next day, they said their goodbyes after dinner and left.

After their exhausting day, no one was up for much after dinner. Moving to the now cozy and inviting drawing room, Lupin settled in a chair by the fire with a book. Taking his lead, Harry retrieved the volumes about the Book of Shadows he had bought that day. He swapped the dust jackets with ones from some of his school books in case Lupin took note of what he and Ron were reading. It was the prefect opportunity to start serious research. Feeling bad there were only the two new books, leaving Ginny out, Harry thought he might get one of the other books they had brought from the Room of Requirement for her. He quickly dismissed the idea when he saw the mountain of books and parchments she had lugged into the room. Remembering she had OWLs to study for, he figured she had enough to worry about. Everyone settled in to their reading and a companionable silence fell over the room.

An hour later, when the fire had died down to a cozy glow, Lupin bid them all good night, leaving the Harry and the others free to discuss the Book of Shadows. Harry had noticed Ron's occasional frown as he read and was curious as to what he'd found out. His own book, while interesting so far, had begun with the usual mythical aspects and controversy surrounding the Book of Shadows. Though he considered skipping ahead to the more promising chapters, Harry thought he ought to be patient and read it all the way through just to be sure he didn't miss something important. Once Lupin's footsteps sounded clearly on the stairs, Ron and Harry slid off the couch and closer to the fire, near where Ginny had settled to work on the low coffee table. When Ginny didn't respond to Ron's call, Harry shook her shoulder gently.

Blinking blearily, she sat up, "What? What time is it?" Alarm rang in her voice. "I'm not late for class am I?"

Suppressing a laugh, Harry shook his head. "It's still the holidays, Ginny. We thought you might want to hear what we've found out about the Book of Shadows." There was a long red mark on her forehead where she had fallen asleep against the edge of her book. Without thinking, Harry reached up and touched it, smiling. Ginny mimicked his movement, confused then laughed when she realized what he was looking at.

"Ahem," Ron said loudly.

Sliding backwards a foot, Harry shook himself. "So how is your book so far, Ron? Any good?"

Looking apprehensive, Ron answered, "Well, yeah, I guess." Harry prompted him to go on when he hesitated. "I think I know why You-Know-Who is after it."

A mix of excitement and dread made Harry's heart beat faster. "Really? Well, come on, then!"

Frowning, Ron looked down and flipped back a few pages. "I think...well...it says: Though many Book historians agree the Book must contain some amount of curses, it may be that the Book itself is actually the source of a great and powerful curse: The Curse of Immortality."

The room went silent. Harry knew Voldemort was obsessed by the idea of cheating death. After all, Harry's first encounter had been tying to protect the Sorcerer's Stone. The thought of Voldemort actually achieving immortality sent chills down his spine.

Ginny was the first to recover. "Go on, does it say what the Curse of Immortality is?"

"Sort of." Ron read on, "While there is no doubt that the spells contained within the Book could grant the individual using them an extraordinary and possibly even dangerous amount of power, evidence suggests the Guardian of the Book remains immune to death so long as the Book is in their care." Ron stopped and looked up. "It goes on about binding spells and something called a soul-bind that would keep the Guardian alive so long as the Book is still theirs, no matter what happened to them. Sounds like whoever wrote this thinks that being bound to a book forever is the curse, since so far, it hasn't mentioned an actual spell called the Curse of Immortality."

Harry didn't like this at all. "Go back to the part about the soul-bind. What's that?"

Ron flipped a few pages. "It doesn't really explain it very well. The whole ruddy book is written like...hang on... here it is. 'From knowledge of other binding spells, some historians believe there is a way to bind oneself to objects in order to maintain a certain awareness of and protection over said object and to gain some kind of ability or other benefit in return. It is quite uncommon for this to be desirable except in cases of extreme value or power inherent to the item. Due to the intrinsic nature of the Book of Shadows, it is not unlikely that some kind of bond is involved between the Guardian and the Book.'" He looked up. "You know, I bet there's more about soul-binds in those other books that were in the Room of Requirement."

Harry wished he had brought more of the books with them, though he wasn't sure they'd be useful at all. Still, he stood. "I brought a few of them. Let me go get them."

As he headed for the door, Ron asked, "How's your book?"

Harry shook his head. "Not nearly as interesting as yours," he paused a moment, "yet."

When Harry returned, carrying the few volumes he'd brought from Hogwarts, Ron and Ginny were sitting with their heads together, Ginny scribbling away at a piece of parchment.

She looked up as he sat beside her. "We've started a list so we can keep track of what we know."

Moving slightly to the side, she indicated the neatly penned list. One column was headed 'Book', the other 'Guardian'. Harry was impressed with the organization, though somewhat disappointed with the length of the lists. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he asked, "Are you channeling Hermione?"

Ginny laughed. "No, it's just habit by now." She indicated her stacks of OWL notes.

They each took a book from Harry's binding-related stack and began searching for information on soul-binds or anything else that might be useful. There were occasional hopeful murmurs of 'ooo!' usually instantly followed by mumbled 'never minds'. Tossing aside his book, Ron looked over Harry's shoulder. They were both skimming the pages when Ginny let out an excited, "Ooh! I think I found something."

When it was not immediately followed by a disappointed sigh, they both perked up. Seeing she had their attention, Ginny read, "Animus Praestringo will bind two living souls together for eternity. When performed correctly, two individuals will share and exchange a piece of their souls with one another. It is not clear what this permanent and profound connection accomplishes other than a deep bond between the two individuals. The spell was discovered accidentally when investigators were researching the natural and spontaneous form of soul-binding." Ginny looked up, a dubious expression on her face. "That doesn't sound very natural to me."

Harry and Ron were listening with rapt attention. Urging her on, Harry asked, "Is there more?"

"Not much," Ginny replied as she continued. "In its natural form, a soul bind is no less permanent or powerful, though the two individuals may not even be aware of its occurrence."

"How could you not know?" Ron exclaimed. "Don't you think if you switched a piece of your soul with someone, you'd notice?"

Harry shrugged. "Apparently not."

Ginny ignored them. "Love in its deepest, purest form will bind two souls together in one of two ways. The more common is slowly over time as the individuals come to love each other more. More rarely, the bond is instantaneous upon first meeting. Do you think they mean love at first sight?" Ginny asked, but didn't give them a chance to answer. Continuing, she read, "While romantic love seems the most likely candidate for a natural soul-bind, platonic or family-related binds may also occur. Contrary to initial thought, natural soul binds are not solely a human phenomenon, either. Binds between animals, both magical and non-magical, and even animals and humans have been recorded. Natural soul binds are usually only discovered after one of the pair has died, since once a soul-bind has occurred, neither soul has the will to exist on its own for very long. In extremely rare cases, an individual has soul-bound to more than one other soul."

"So if you've soul-bound with someone and they die, then you die?" Ron asked, incredulous. "That sounds horrible. Why would you ever use a spell to do that voluntarily?"

Ginny was staring at the page. "I don't know, but it kind of makes sense, don't you think?"

"What?" Harry and Ron said in unison.

Ginny looked up at them, disregarding their unbelieving stares. "Well, maybe not doing it with the spell, but if you did soul-bind with someone naturally, it means you really, really loved them. Then if they died, you probably wouldn't want to go on without them. It kind of makes sense."

Neither boy looked altogether convinced. "I suppose," Harry said. "Is that all it says?"

Ginny turned back to the book. "A few attempts were made to use Animus Praestringo to bind a soul to an inanimate object with disastrous results. Since Animus Praestringo requires an exchange of souls and inanimate objects possess none, the bind remained incomplete and served only to weaken the soul attempting the bind. Alternate spells to bind living souls to inanimate objects have been investigated with varying degrees of success."

When she stopped, Harry and Ron looked at each other then back at her expectantly. "And..." Ron gestured for her to continue.

"And nothing," Ginny said, closing the book. "That's all it says."

"There's nothing about those other attempts to soul-bind objects?" Harry asked, disappointed.

Flipping through some pages and skimming the index Ginny replied, "Nope."

With a sigh he turned back to the book in his hand, though he hoped now that he had a better idea what to look for, he might actually find something. Ron also resumed his skimming while Ginny chose another book. Finding a promising section of text, Harry sat up excitedly. After a moment, he tossed the book aside with an annoyed huff. "Some help that was."

"What?" Ginny glanced up.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That one had a bit on object-soul binds." He shook his head so they wouldn't get excited. "All it said was 'The only known fully successful living soul to object bind is between the legendary Book of Shadows and its Guardian.'"

Both Ron and Ginny mimicked his expression. Pitching his book aside, Ron said, "I don't know about you, but I think I've had enough for one night."

Stretching, Ginny rose. "Yeah. At least we got something, I suppose."

Slumped where he was, Harry had to admit he felt drained as well. Not to mention disappointed. How far along was Voldemort in his pursuit of the Book? He probably knew much more than they did by now. It was not a comforting thought. "Hardly anything."

Adding the bits they'd just discovered to their list, Ginny tried to be optimistic. "It's better than nothing."

The two Weasleys headed toward the door but paused when Harry did not join them.

"Coming, Harry?" Ron asked.

Staring into the fire, Harry replied, "In a minute."

After they'd left, Harry dimmed the gaslights and lay out in front of the fireplace. He wanted a moment to think before going to bed. The fire was dying down, but the rug he was on was still warm and he suddenly felt too tired to get up. For the first time in a long time, Harry had to concentrate in order to focus his mind, even though it had become such a habit from practicing Occlumency. Blaming the eventful day, Harry finally succeeded in calming his whirling thoughts.

His eyes snapped open to darkness. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Trying to reconcile where he was, Harry hesitated before making any sudden movements. The feeling of something soft and warm next to his neck made him freeze again as he started to sit up. A low rumbling purr sent relief though Harry's mind as he realized he had fallen asleep on the floor in front of the fire. Pest was happily curled up next to him, though he too, awoke to stretch and yawn when Harry stood up. Noticing how cold the room was, Harry was glad there was a warm bed waiting for him upstairs. As he climbed the steps, he listened for any sounds of Kreacher disobeying him, though the house-elf had been in the boiler room every time Harry had checked so far.

Having followed him, Pest ran past Harry and jumped on his bed, kneading the pillow and purring as Harry changed into pajamas. By the time he was ready for bed, Pest was fast asleep, curled into the pillow, but Harry was wide awake. Standing in the middle of the room, Harry thought he ought to just get into bed as undoubtedly, sleep would come rather quickly. However, he felt restless, and since he had nowhere to be at any specific time the next day, sleep was not forefront in his mind. Outside the window, the neighborhood was dark and silent. Harry spied the small shed in the backyard and thought about when he should start looking through it. Would Ron want to help? Did Harry even want anyone with him? After a moment's thought, Harry realized he really wanted to go through anything that was left of Sirius' alone. Looking up at the ceiling, he thought about the attic full of things to sort through.

Patting the sleeping kitten, Harry took the small candelabra off the dresser and slipped out the door. Trying to move as quietly as possible, Harry climbed the stairs, pausing for a moment to peer down the third floor hallway, as silent and still as the one below. Creeping to the attic door, Harry eased it open, wincing slightly when it let out a mournful creak. Leaving it slightly ajar, Harry stopped just inside the small cramped space, taking in the odd assortment of boxes and trunks and the mysterious shapes of unknown things draped in dust cloths. Knowing how much Sirius had gotten rid of, there was more than Harry thought there would be.

A trunk close to the door caught his eye. Setting the candelabra on a box near it to shed light, Harry knelt to examine it. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it seemed newer than the other boxes and trunks, or perhaps, just less dusty. Harry wondered if these were Sirius' things, maybe that Lupin had held onto when he had been wrongfully imprisoned. Running his fingers along the carvings, Harry wondered if someone had taken care of Sirius' belongings while he'd been in Azkaban. He knew Sirius had been living on his own for a long time before Voldemort's fall and surely he had collected a houseful of things before his arrest. Were Sirius' own possessions all here in this attic? Had they been sold or given away when he'd been arrested? Could they be in this very trunk?

Looking more closely at the top of the chest, Harry saw a letter had been carved into the dark wood. The fanciful swirls and curlicues made it difficult to discern which letter it was meant to be, if it was in fact not simply an intricate design. Moving the candelabra closer, Harry imagined it looked like a B in the center of the design. The latch at the front was heavy and iron, but it didn't seem to be locked. Harry knew appearances meant nothing and gripped his wand in one hand, just in case. Hoping Sirius hadn't hexed the latch, he lifted it and slowly opened the lid.

He had to use both hands to raise the heavy lid of the trunk, though Harry did not lay his wand down. When no jinx or hex seemed imminent, Harry eased the lid back so the chest lay wide open. A strong scent of cedar rose from its depths, the faint odor of wood smoke almost hidden in the pungent aroma. The fact that the trunk was neatly organized made Harry reconsider if it was indeed Sirius' after all.

On the very top of the contents lay a large, leather bound album. Harry picked it up and opened it, wondering who he should expect to be in the photographs. He did not recognize any of the people waving up at him from the first few pages and wondered if these had been friends of Lupin or Sirius. Recognition shot through him when he saw the large group photo on the third page. Quickly, Harry set the album down and pulled the trunk lid shut. He traced the carved letter again. The group of people waving up at him was unfamiliar except for the woman in the center of the photo. Looking between the trunk and the album, he realized it wasn't a B carved into the wood, but a P. These were Persephone's things.

Raising the lid again to open the trunk, Harry knew he should just shut the album and the trunk and go back to bed. This was not his to go through. Judging by the relatively undisturbed contents, Harry figured these were things Persephone didn't look at often. She had probably asked Lupin if she could keep the trunk in the attic of Number Twelve instead of taking it to Hogwarts with her. He wondered why Lupin hadn't mentioned it but Harry guessed he'd simply forgotten. Bringing the album closer to the light, Harry watched the people in the photo. Lupin had mentioned a few of them. Harry could easily guess which person was Abrax, and though he didn't appear to be part giant like Hagrid, he was indeed, a very large man. The small blonde girl with one arm around a gangly boy must be Uni, the boy next to her, her brother Snidget. Harry guessed the couple at the other end to be the Frasers, leaving him to name the last unknown person in the photo as Anna, the girl Persephone didn't seem to get along with. Figuring it was harmless enough to look through the rest of the pictures, Harry smiled to see Persephone and her friends doing various activities, always with smiles and laughter. She seemed so happy in all the photos. Why had she left the ranch?

Closing the album, Harry looked at the open trunk, knowing he should just close it and go back downstairs. Temptation stopped him from simply tossing the album back in, and he peered inside, hoping he'd be able to learn something without having to move anything around. He stared into the trunk for a long moment before laying the album carefully on the floor next to him. What harm could it do? It wasn't like reading Snape's memory in the Pensive, these were not purposefully hidden things from her past. If she had been concerned someone would see them, she wouldn't have left them among things she knew Harry would eventually need to look through. At the very least, she would have locked it. Once he had convinced himself this was a valid argument, Harry made a decision. Careful to remember where everything was, Harry took out the next item. Wrapped in soft cloth, Harry found a worn horseshoe. Guessing at its significance, Harry carefully re-wrapped it and set it on top of the photo album.

Having some experience with wizarding trunks, Harry wasn't sure just how much her trunk might hold. Hoping he hadn't started something that would take more than an hour or two that night, Harry reached for the next carefully wrapped object. The next few things were not very interesting, at least, not to Harry. Guessing it was horse-related equipment, Harry thought Ginny would be far more interested and knowledgeable than he. He also knew she probably wouldn't be pawing though Persephone's personal belongings, but resolutely ignored that notion.

A small, carved wood box caught his eye next, and although it seemed simple enough, Harry wasn't able to open it. Wondering at its contents, he shrugged and set it aside. Though the morality of it seemed a bit stretched, even to him, Harry drew the line at forcibly opening something. Under the locked box lay a neatly folded quilt he thought looked to be handmade. Removing it carefully, he resisted the urge to open it and examine the design. There was another photo album below it and a long flat box next to that.

Harry opened the box first. To his surprise, it contained a VHS tape, something he would not have expected to find in a witch's trunk. Spying a bit of writing on the edge of the box top, Harry saw it read 'Muggle Day (soph.)'. Though he didn't know what 'Muggle Day' was, Harry guessed that 'soph' might refer to Persephone's second year at AIMS, or possibly Fulton. The box also held a few loose photographs, a folded bit of paper that looked to be some sort of program, a letter, and a bundle of cloth. Picking up the pictures, Harry was surprised to see they were not moving and appeared to be non-magical still photographs. Even more surprisingly, the pictures were of Persephone and Katrina Wylde, obviously dating the box to her days at AIMS. The first picture he picked up was a posed shot of the two of them, Katrina's arm around Persephone's shoulder, the both of them grinning madly at the camera. The others were obviously candid shots showing them in some kind of performance on stage in front of what looked to be a rather boisterous crowd. Harry wondered if the crowd was reacting to whatever show they were putting on or the rather scanty costumes they seemed to be wearing, though Persephone's was a bit more modest than Katrina's. Another picture showed them accepting some kind of award, still wearing the same costumes. Shaking out the bundle of cloth, Harry realized it was Persephone's costume from the photos. Folding it back up quickly, he replaced it in the box. Hoping the program would shed some light on what he was looking at, Harry held it near the candle light.

Understanding dawned when he read the short introduction. It seemed AIMS had a 'Muggle Day' every year to give students taking classes in Muggle Studies a chance to show off their new knowledge and skills. The whole day was planned around Muggle activities and those participating were strictly forbidden to use any magic whatsoever. From the program Harry saw there were all sorts of events: from cooking and first aid demonstrations to the highlight of the day, the talent show, which of course relied heavily on something many wizards found incredibly fascinating: electricity. Judging by the photos, Harry guessed Persephone and Katrina had entered the talent show that year and won. He wondered if that had been before or after Katrina had started her singing career. Predictably, the photo album was full of pictures form Persephone's days at AIMS, quite a few of them showing her and Katrina together. Unrolling the letter, Harry saw it was only a few lines of script.

Sephone,

You are the best friend anyone could ever have. I never, ever could have done it without you.

Best Friends Forever,

Kat

Harry stared at the short letter. Having seen them at the Halloween concert, Harry knew something had to have gone horribly, horribly wrong for Katrina to go from this to hating Persephone so fiercely. What happened? Knowing there was no way for him to find out, aside from asking her, Harry set the letter carefully back in the box with the other things. Closing the box, he placed it on top of the growing pile next to him.

Under the box and album lay a framed diploma stating Persephone Hade's achievement of a degree in Magizoology with a secondary focus in Potions, with honors. Harry was impressed, though he wasn't sure exactly what that meant. A copy of her bound thesis, 'North American Winged Horses: Migration, Mating, and Social Structure, A Longitudinal Study' joined the framed diploma on the pile outside the trunk.

The acrid scent of wood smoke grew slightly stronger as Harry reached for the next item, a copy of her diploma from Fulton Academy. Underneath, as though tossed inside in afterthought, lay a tarnished iron key. Picking it up, Harry wondered what it opened. Holding it against the keyhole on the front of the trunk, he saw the key was far too large. It looked as thought it might open a door or perhaps a larger trunk, but there was no way for Harry to know. He set it aside.

Next, he picked up a Fulton yearbook from her seventh year, though when Harry flipped through it there were no messages or signatures anywhere. A faded and delicate pressed flower slipped out between the pages and landed on the dusty floor. Carefully, Harry picked it up and placed it back between two pages somewhere in the middle, hoping it hadn't been placed elsewhere and with significance. A neatly folded school uniform lay under the yearbook and Harry took a moment to examine the embroidered Blackstone House design on the robe.

Just before Harry put the yearbook down, he looked at the cover once more and then opened it. Carefully turning to the H section, Harry looked for Persephone's picture. He spotted it immediately in the center of the page, between Daisy Gunst and Stacy Hicks. Persephone's picture stood out simply because it was the only one that wasn't moving. Stacy and Daisy giggled and waved up at him, but Persephone remained perfectly still, her expressionless face staring blankly out of the page. Harry wondered why she didn't have a magical picture like everyone else. Then she blinked. Leaning toward the light, Harry stared at the picture's eyes. Every now and again she would blink, but no more. The more he watched, the more disturbed he became by it.

Closing the yearbook, Harry looked into the trunk and saw two more books. Reaching for the one closest to him, Harry saw it was titled 'Magic and You: What Every Girl Needs to Know'. Opening it to a random page, Harry flushed and quickly shut it again. That was certainly more than he needed to know. He squashed the curious thought asking if perhaps Ginny or Hermione had received a similar book, telling himself that was definitely more than he needed to know.

The other book looked vaguely familiar. He picked up the small leather-bound volume and unwound the long cord holding it shut. Two folded letters fell out and Harry gathered them off the dusty floor. Pausing for a moment, he wondered if he should read them, then seeing the large pile of belongings he'd already examined next to him, figured he might as well.

Opening the first letter, Harry saw an official looking seal at the top, though it was not the familiar one of the Ministry of Magic. Reminding himself she was American, Harry squinted at the tiny print in the seal that read 'United States Department of Magical Affairs'.

Ms. Persephone Hade,

We regret to inform you your father, Augustus Hade, was declared deceased at 9:48 a.m. this morning, May 6...

He stopped. Glancing back down, Harry felt a bit sick. Her father had died in Azkaban.

All assets of the Hade estate have been frozen and confiscated by the United States Department of Magical Affairs until further notice...

Harry read faster.

...pending interview of the relations...

For the first time since delving into her trunk, Harry wished he hadn't. By the tone of the letter, it sounded as though her father had been a Death Eater, or at the very least a staunch Voldemort supporter. Since he was gone, it seemed whatever questions they had left about her family's dealings would fall to her. Judging by the date at the top and Harry's quick estimate of her age, he felt his stomach drop when he realized she couldn't have been more than fourteen years old when she'd gotten the letter. Even though he almost regretted reading the first one, Harry opened the second letter, hoping it held better news. After reading the first few lines, Harry realized that he, or rather Persephone, was not that lucky.

Ms. Persephone Hade,

Your only remaining next of kin, Mr. Argus Filch (Hogwarts School, Scotland), has refused legal guardianship and thus your case will be presented at a legal hearing the time of which remains to be determined. Until permanent guardianship can be established, you will be remanded as a ward of the State and sent to foster care at a facility to be determined before the close of Fulton Academy's school year.

Harry didn't read the rest, what little of it there was. No wonder she hated Filch so much. For the first time ever, Harry appreciated that while the Dursleys were truly horrible to him, had never treated him as family, they had at least taken him. He didn't know if it was something Dumbledore had said or threatened, or if his Aunt Petunia had, on some level, realized the importance Harry's defeat of Voldemort, but in any case, they had taken him. He didn't know why he opened the small book the letters had fallen out of, perhaps in the vague hope it held something that would tell him everything had turned out all right after all. Even after realizing what it was, her personal diary of years past, Harry continued to read the first entry. Though it was obviously written so long ago, and even though he had already dug through and scrutinized a number of her personal belongings, Harry knew this was the last thing he should be doing. Still, he couldn't help himself. After all he had seen he had to know more.

Miss Culvert's Home for Girls. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Like it's a sweet little gingerbready house full of warm fires and baking smells, the laughter and shrieks of a handful of giggling little girls. We'd stand, quiet but excited in our starched white dresses while Ms. Culvert placed fresh baked goodies in our outstretched hands. At least that's the picture I made in my mind as the men in dark, uncomfortable-looking uniforms led me up the stairs to the front door. Foolish, foolish Sephone.

The truth is, this woman could give Dementors a run for their money. Every hopeful thought I'd ever had that this would be better than where I had just come from fled the second she snapped her beady eyes on me. She hated me the second she saw me, I knew. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling and you'd think I'd be used to that look by now.

I tried to talk to the other girls. Only one is near my age, a husky girl named Lydia who sneered at my questions. The younger girls, most about seven or eight, refused to talk to me at all, but from fear of Ms. Culvert or Lydia, I don't know. Maybe they were scared of me. I don't know how much Ms. Culvert tells the girls about why everyone ended up there. In any case, I have to share a room with four other girls who refuse to admit I'm even there, I have no friends, and it is going to be a long, long summer.

I'm going to hide this journal since I overheard one of the girls whispering to her friend about some 'search' Ms. Culvert had done last week. It wouldn't surprise me if Ms. Culvert read journals she found, or even if the other girls had a good snicker over a page or two. In any case, I'm pretty sure I heard someone say a girl named Cynthia had been whipped for keeping something forbidden hidden, but I wasn't close enough to hear for sure. They clammed up as soon as they saw I was watching. Culvert looks like she's the whipping type. I would know.

But it's just one summer. I can do this.

~P

Harry turned the page and his blood ran cold. Flipping through the pages he could see there were no journal entries aside from the first, though the entire journal was filled with writing. The remaining pages were filled with only one sentence, repeated over and over.

I will not tell lies.

The familiarity of the phrase wasn't the only thing that made Harry wished he had never looked through her things. He had the uncanny feeling Ms. Culvert had found Persephone's diary after that first entry and had punished her for it. Harry's only consolation came in that the appearance of the writing was that of black ink, not dried blood. He couldn't imagine why Persephone had saved these things among memories of much happier times. Though he was not encouraged by what he'd just found, Harry looked into the trunk to see what remained. There were only a few things left, and for some unknown reason, Harry felt as though he ought to finish what he started.

Replacing the letters in the disturbing journal, Harry carefully wound the leather strip around the diary and tied it. At the bottom of the trunk, Harry saw only a framed photograph, a plain wooden box, and a shirt box made from some kind of starched linen cloth remained. Picking up the photograph, Harry saw what he had originally thought was a decoratively painted wooden frame was actually an unadorned wooden frame that had been partially charred. It looked as though it had been tossed in a fire but rescued before it had had a chance to burn completely. The glass was slightly warped and rippled, and the picture inside the frame had not escaped whatever heat had marred the rest, as one corner was blackened and the picture itself was curled and slightly distorted. Even so, the woman in the photo still smiled and cooed happily to the little girl she held in her arms. The familiarity of the woman named her Persephone's mother in Harry's mind, making the laughing blonde child Persephone herself. Thinking of his own treasured photos, Harry had no doubt as to why Persephone had kept this particular item.

The linen shirt box held only a few articles of clothing: a cream-colored silk blouse with a button missing, one old-fashioned stocking, and a badly singed sweater, all of which held the faint but distinct scent of wood smoke. The only thing remaining in the trunk was the plain wooden box and Harry reached for it, relieved but also a bit saddened to have reached the end. As he opened the box, something caught the candlelight and glittered brightly. Shifting slightly to allow the light to shine into the box, Harry peered at the contents. Gently he withdrew a long strand of perfectly matched pearls, which caught on another item as he lifted it: a delicately wrought silver-tone bracelet, diamonds dangling from every other link. Setting the jewelry down carefully, Harry picked up a stiff, tarnished silver cuff bracelet next. One end was a small cluster of grapes, while the other was a delicately fashioned scorpion. After setting that next to the diamonds and pearls, Harry saw the only remaining item in the box was a small golden ring. Holding it up, Harry thought it looked like a wedding band, but couldn't quite make out the worn inscription on the inside.

With a sigh, though of fatigue, regret, or something else, he didn't know, Harry gently placed the jewelry back in the box and began carefully layering all of Persephone's things back into the trunk. When he was done, Harry stared at the closed chest and wondered if she would notice someone had disturbed her things, or if she would know what he had done simply by looking at him the next time they met. Harry wasn't sure what he felt now that he had seen those things from her past. It had certainly raised as many questions as it had answered. Or possibly it had only raised more, since he didn't feel like he really knew anything more about her at all. Suddenly feeling very tired, Harry stood, allowing blood to rush back into his numb legs.

When Harry climbed back into bed, Noir abandoning his pillow for the promised warmth under the covers, he admitted what he had done had been wrong, but reminded himself he wasn't going to tell anyone about what he'd seen. Not that there had been anything of real significance or suspicion in her trunk, in any case. He had only wanted to know more about her. Reassuring himself he hadn't done any real harm, Harry drifted off to sleep.