Teamwork

11 -- Plans and Preparations

Dear Harry,

School letters have more than the usual information this year, and Professor McGonagall was distressed at yours being returned. She has distributed copies of your letter (sealed) to a number of people. All of us have assured her that we cannot contact you, of course, but she is hoping that you will initiate contact with one of her chosen list. It might seem simplest for me to send you mine, but considering that the headmaster has a certain amount of authority over me whilst I am in residence, it would not do for my copy to be the one that reaches you. As the werewolf has proved trustworthy, and I am quite certain that he has a copy accessible, I suggest that you pay him a visit.

In other news, the Council of Birthright and Family Affairs found in my favor, although we expect at least one challenge. Despite the theoretical return of my theoretical fortune, I am still bored, and want school to start. Above all, I look forward to your return. I may, perhaps, even be anticipating the challenge of managing my housemates again. I hope your August has been as tedious as mine, as if it has not, either something has gone wrong or you have failed to take adequate care.

Your owl disappeared for two days, and when she returned, she deigned to sit near me, but would not accept a sausage. I believe she is looking for you, and hopes you will return to me.

With longing,

Draco

Harry wanted to reply immediately, but he held back. Draco would not approve of him meeting with Bulstrode, he was certain, so it would be better to have that done before he wrote back. However, there was nothing to keep him from an immediate visit to Darkmoon Den.

He wore the cloak again, but he stumbled this time. By the fire, Remus looked up.

"Harry?"

Chuckling, Harry opened the cloak. "Got it in one."

"Oddly, I don't have many invisible visitors. How is life in hiding?"

"Dull," Harry said, almost honestly. "I miss having people to talk to. It's better than the Dursleys' though, and I won't risk the Burrow." He shrugged. "So, I thought I could visit you again before school started. Where's Sirius?"

"Out having a run." Remus chuckled. "He doesn't like being cooped up, I'm afraid. I imagine you're rather the same."

"Yeah." The room had a sofa as well as the one chair. Harry sat on the end nearest Remus. "I have a new appreciation of what it must be like for him. And I've been doing this for less than three weeks." Speculatively, he looked at the door. "I wish I could turn into a dog."

"You could probably learn to turn into something, with proper effort. You're a talented pupil, as I recall."

"Thanks."

"I mean it quite sincerely." Remus set his book aside. "Now, I expect you are actually here for a letter?"

"Letter?" Harry widened his eyes innocently, but then ruined the effect by grinning. "I am so bad at that! Yes, I heard there was a letter." He laughed. It felt good to be here. "You should be flattered, you know. Draco described you as 'trustworthy.'"

"Really?" Remus's brow creased as his eyebrows rose. "Well. I'll be happy when the feeling is mutual."

"Remus," Harry warned.

"What? I am entitled to my opinion. You would do well to have friends who keep their own and express them honestly."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I do, I think."

"Really."

"Really. I may have had too much influence on Ron, at one point, but not in the last three years."

"And Draco?"

"He says what he thinks." Harry considered that. "Well, mostly. Sometimes he's too subtle for me."

"Subtle. Would you give me an example?"

"Well, he thought I knew he was interested in me, for example. And I didn't, but I'm kind of clueless sometimes. I mean, it was Seamus that told me, and I think Hermione knew, so he can't have been exactly unreadable." Harry didn't want to be taking about this. "Do you know who the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher is?"

"No. Why would I?"

"I don't know. You know people." Harry shrugged. "I'll find out soon enough, I suppose."

"You don't look happy."

"Well, most of them have been awful. Four out of six."

"I gather I am one of the exceptions?"

"You and Horsyr."

"Professor Horsyr, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Not any more, but okay. Professor Horsyr."

Still looking rather disapproving, Remus stood and opened a drawer in a small table. "Your letter," he said, handing it to Harry. "I'll tell Professor McGonagall that you received it, shall I?"

Harry nodded. He fingered the letter, which was thicker than usual. He wondered if it had some personal message added --telling him to behave himself, no doubt -- or if the added bulk was all due to the extra information for seventh year students. "And that I won't be visiting you again."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Would you if I don't tell her?"

"During the next twelve days? Probably not."

"Ah. But later?"

"Of course! When I'm out of school. Of course, Remus."

"All right."

While Harry was wondering if he needed to say more, there was a bark at the door, and then Remus went to open it. Only when the dog was safely inside the cottage did he change form.

"Harry!"

Then it was hugs and friendly conversation, and Harry tucked the letter away for later.

Back at the shop -- and it was starting to look like a shop, now -- Harry drew the letter its envelope and unfolded it. On the first of two sheets, he read the following message:

Dear Mr. Potter,

August is drawing to a close, and it is time to consider your return to school. At least, I earnestly hope you will be returning. As school owls were unable to deliver your original letter, I have taken the liberty of distributing copies of this one to several people who believe that you may contact them before September. Should you read this, please do me the courtesy of acknowledging its receipt.

Seventh year studies are taxing and require dedication, effort, and focus. As for all seventh-year Gryffindors, I have reviewed your O.W.L.s in comparison with last year's marks in order to evaluate what changes to your schedule might optimize your performance in your N.E.W.T.s. Please give serious consideration to my advice, whilst remembering also that as an adult wizard poised to enter wizarding society, it is your duty to remain true to yourself.

Recommended:

Charms: As it forms the core of magical practice, I recommend continuing with this course to all but those most dedicated to narrow specialization.

Defense against the Dark Arts: I need not tell you this is your shining talent. Continue with it.

Transfiguration: As your professor, I believe that this class challenges you to develop a theoretical understanding of magic, establishing a valuable counterpart to your natural strengths in intuition and will.

Questionable:

Care of Magical Creatures: This course is likely to be of little use to you professionally, but it is also only a minor drain on your schedule. If you feel the time outside benefits your overall outlook, it may be worth continuing. Use your own best judgment.

Potions: Although your Potions marks improved greatly last year, this is a time-consuming course of study and a difficult N.E.W.T. to obtain. Continue in it only if you are likely to pursue a career which requires or weights in favor of this N.E.W.T. (e.g., Auror, Mediwizard, Magical Pest Controller).

Not Recommended:

Divination: I see no reason whatsoever for you to continue with this course of study.

Herbology: Due to the effort involved in replenishing stocks lost in last year's incident, Professor Sprout has asked that only truly dedicated N.E.W.T.-level students sign up for Herbology this year. Continue in it only if you are likely to pursue a career which requires or weights towards this N.E.W.T. (e.g., Mediwizard, Landscaper, Herbologist).

History of Magic: While it is my hope that you will someday acquire some understanding of the history of our culture and knowledge, you clearly will not learn it from Professor Binns.

For each two courses that you drop, you should consider adding an optional course. I recommend the following options:

Cursebreaking: The incoming Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor plans to teach an introductory Cursebreaking course for sixth and seventh year students. As one of our best Defense against the Dark Arts students, I believe this would be a natural fit for your talents.

Symbology: Professor Sinistra offers this as a one-year overview in runes, glyphs, and other symbols for seventh-year students who have not taken Ancient Runes.

While there are years of experience behind my recommendations, you know yourself best. Consider your interests and aspirations, and come prepared to discuss your final schedule with me on the second of September.

Best Regards,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Head of Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry stared at the paper. Cursebreaking? He couldn't help wondering if Bill was the new Defense instructor. In any case, he knew he wanted to take that course. He would be happy to be rid of all the Not Recommended courses as well, so that gave him one free slot. He looked back up at the word "Potions," and the strong line beneath it and shook his head. "Any other year," he muttered.

There was a tickle of motion across his collarbone as Susara, coiled comfortably around his neck, raised her head. "Master?"

"I have schedule recommendations from school. Any other year, I would have been thrilled to drop Potions. Now I want to stay in it."

"You should do what you please," she replied placidly, and he laughed.

"The professor said the same."

He moved on to look at the second and third sheets. Because exact schedules for his year were not set until the first day of school, it listed the supplies for all the lessons he might take, with a reminder that most would be available by owl order once at school. Of course, this also gave him a way to get a better sense of what the options might be like. He should go to Flourish & Blotts and look over the required and suggested texts.

Once that plan was set, he recalled the matter of Millicent Bulstrode. He was due to meet her tomorrow, although he had deliberately not set a place. The book shop was a natural location for her to look for him, as that was where they had run into each other before. It would be simple, if he trusted her.

He didn't. Draco had said she was a neutral, but that didn't make her an ally. He didn't doubt she could get a good deal of money for betraying him. On the positive side, money didn't seem to be what motivated her. He thought over everything she had said, trying to get a grasp on what did. Respect, perhaps, but while she wouldn't get that from Voldemort, she might be misled into believing she would. Freedom -- which had the same problems. He wished he had at least made their second meeting closer to the first of September, so his secrets needed less protection. On the other hand, that would have given him less time to make purchases.

And once he found her, where could he take her that was private, but didn't give those secrets away? He considered reusing the nightclub, but he hadn't asked Zabini what protections he had dismantled, and getting caught by Aurors would be not only dangerous, but embarrassing. He had thought up and discarded a dozen schemes before the most useful modification of Zabini's occurred to him -- he would lead Bulstrode out into Muggle London and make similar use of some Muggle place. The protections would be easier to disable, and if he by some ill chance failed, he could deal with Muggle police easily enough.

So he scouted out the far door of the Leaky Cauldron, questioned the twins (who had not, to his surprise, dealt with Muggle alarm systems, but were impressed that he had), and made a quick trip to the book shop to look for information. It occurred to him, as he settled down with a copy of Living within the Invasion -- How to Ignore Muggle Intrusions to wonder how other readers used this information, but he quickly pushed that thought away. Wizard thieves were the MLE's problem; Voldemort was his.

After lunch the next day, armed with a hip flask of Polyjuice, his Invisibility Cloak, his school list, and a fresh knowledge of how to tie Muggle alarm systems in knots, he went down to Flourish & Blotts to check out the required texts for Cursebreaking and Symbology.

Millicent was there, as he expected. As Fred, he even gave her a long look as he was paying for his purchases, but outside, he ducked out of sight, tossed on his cloak, and waited. Approaching her in the bookshop would be efficient, but dangerously predictable.

He caught her on the street, walking towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hi."

"Shove off, Weasley."

He grinned. "I've been told you should go through. To the Muggle side, you know."

She sent him a suspicious look, which quickly turned contemptuous. "In these clothes?"

"Can't you cast a glamour?" Her shuttered expression told him that she couldn't, and he silently berated himself for thoughtlessness. "I'll do it for you."

She snorted. "I may not be brilliant, Weasley, but I'm not a fool."

He frowned. He couldn't actually blame her for not wanting one of the twins to change her appearance. "Well, is there anyone you would trust?"

"I'm here alone. Your friend should have told you that. I doubt he'd see me elsewise."

"Look, what if you conjure a mirror, all right, and then I do the glamour? We can do it in the space behind the pub."

The bins were just as smelly as Muggle ones, the overly hopeful grass that poked between the stones just as pathetic, but they did have a modicum of privacy in the space between the brick wall and the back door to the Leaky Cauldron. He changed only her clothes, so that she appeared to be wearing black chinos, a light blue shirt, and a loose, dark blue, sweatshirt jacket. She frowned at herself in the mirror, conjured a new one and frowned again, patted her hands down her sides to feel that her clothes were actually unchanged, and then, with a sigh, nodded.

"All right. Lead on, Weasley -- and no tricks."

He led her through the pub, and a few streets away from it on the Muggle side, to a nondescript door that led to stairs up to several offices, all of which should be empty for the weekend. The outer door had a simple lock, easily dealt with by Alohomora, but the individual businesses had better protections. He tested several for alarm systems, opened the first one without, and turned to usher her into the Muggle space.

She had her wand out, but pointed to the side, as her arms were crossed over her chest. "Is he in there, Weasley? I'm not going any further until he shows himself."

He could see her eyes flick to the side, calculating her escape path -- a short, straight run, and then a dive down the stairs with a cushioning spell was how he'd do it. Smiling, he leaned in the doorway. "I'm Harry, Bulstrode. It's Polyjuice." He managed a laugh. "I thought I'd be Ron, which might cause a bit less suspicion...."

She snorted. "Ronald Weasley talking to a Slytherin? Not a bit of it."

"Point."

She scowled. "And I still don't move until it wears off."

"It should be any moment now."

"But you're good with glamours."

"I still need a wand for them."

"Of course." She frowned. "What were you sending at the other doors?"

"Oh -- looking for alarm systems. This one doesn't have one."

"Harry Potter knows how to detect Muggle alarm systems," she said, a touch of sarcastic disbelief in her tone.

He shrugged. He could feel his form about to take hold, and had to stay alert through it -- he didn't distrust her, really, but he didn't trust her either. "Wouldn't I just?" he countered. "You know I never stay where I belong."

She snorted. "True enough." Her body tensed, but she held her position, wand pointed away, as he clenched his teeth through the change, trying not to double over from the pain. In a few seconds, it had passed, and as he caught his breath, she slipped her wand into her sleeve, slightly hampered by not being able to see it. "Okay, Potter. Let's go inside."

The office had the sort of look Harry had expected, with matching furnishings of a regimented fashion -- flawlessly executed, but not truly attractive, just as his Aunt Petunia's precise flower beds would never be beautiful. He sat in the swiveling padded chair behind the blond wood veneer desk and put his feet up on it. It was a comfortable position and one that allowed him to keep his wand at hand without appearing to. Millicent pulled up the solid chair beside the desk and sat in that, her feet flat on the floor and her elbows on knees. She also was prepared to move, Harry recognized, but in a very different way. However, the first thing she did was to swing a bag from her shoulder and pull out of it a sheaf of notes and a half-sized bottle of wine, which she handed to Harry.

"I brought refreshments. You can unseal it."

Slytherin manners, he thought, and grinned. "Sure." He dumped the pens from a pencil cup, and transfigured that and a blown glass paperweight into glasses. The seal on the wine was intact. He slit it with his pocketknife and uncorked the bottle with a charm.

"Never knew you were so good at that sort of thing," Millicent said, taking the glass of wine that he handed her. "Transfiguration, I mean. They almost match."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "I got a lot better at Transfiguration last year, when I was going over things with Draco."

"You're good at glamours, too," she said flatly.

"Self-preservation, really. You'd be good at them too, if your life depended on it."

She sighed. "It might."

"Oh?"

"Well, not like yours does." She took a swallow from her glass, put it down, and lifted the papers. "So. I've finished my research -- the first round, anyway."

"And?" he asked, belatedly taking a sip of the wine. It was good -- clean and somehow giving an impression of spice.

"Well, the first set isn't so bad. That one is to make changes in my bone and muscle structure -- I'll get slightly taller, and my hips will change, for example. The sources all say I'll be a bit achy through it, but the components are all ones used in healing potions. I still don't want to buy them openly, of course, because no one's going to think anything good of a student needing that many unauthorized healing potions, but that's the worst of it." She took a quick breath. "If I start that in late September, I should be done with the course during December, but as that is also the point at which it can be paused for a few weeks, I plan not to start the second course until after the Christmas holiday."

Harry studied her. "These will be visible changes."

Her shoulders sagged. "Yes. I'll need glamours."

"And over Christmas?"

"Oh Merlin! I hadn't thought of that. Maybe I can stay at school." She closed her eyes for a moment. "No. My mother will expect me to attend all the balls and parties...."

Harry sighed. "Well, we have until December to teach you to do your own glamours, then. Or maybe if you saved hairs from before you started the course, you could polyjuice into your former self?"

Shaking her head, she sat back. "I don't know. It's worth trying, I suppose." She shrugged. "Anyway, the next set of potions is taken for nine weeks, and then a slightly different formula for nine days. You won't like that one."

He braced himself. "Don't say unicorn blood."

"Oh, Merlin, no! No, it's satyr's hooves -- well that's the difficult bit."

"Rare?" he asked.

"Not so much, as trimmings will do, though they need to be fresh, but it's mostly used for, uh, getting it up." Her face reddened. "For blokes that can't, you know."

"Oh!" Harry found himself heating at the idea. "Um...."

"Of course, the quantities I'll need would be enough to supply half a dozen men for that time."

Harry bit his lip. "Um ... I'm throwing marathon orgies?"

She threw back her head and laughed. "Maybe."

"Well, I might want to consult Draco; he's good at alibis. Would you mind if I told him, once things are underway?"

She frowned. "If you swear him to secrecy.... Oh, give me a while to think about it. I'll tell you during September."

"Okay."

"You can back out of this whenever you like, of course," she added brusquely. "But if you do, my side of the deal is off, too. That's not a threat; I just won't protect him."

"Understood." Harry took another swallow of the wine. "What does this potion do for you?"

"It will make me more masculine. I'll get facial hair --" she rolled her eyes -- "well, more of it -- and my breasts will shrink, and my, um, one of my female parts will become more like a penis. The final formulation will add blood and semen from a man, and that will complete that change."

"So that's it?"

"No. There's one more potion that I need to take for two weeks. That will get rid of my female organs."

"Is that as nasty as it sounds?"

Millicent looked slightly green. "The things inside shrink down and then come out through my cunt, which will seal behind them. So, yeah -- nasty. And I'll be bedridden for the last day and night."

Harry winced. "Okay. So...."

"That's the potion which will need the dodgiest supplies. As you can expect, the main components are Dark, and best known for some horrible poisons. The suspicion will be of causing harm, not hiding it."

"Understood." Harry wondered what other sources he had if the twins balked. "Well, I'll do my best." He set his feet down on the floor. "Can you give me more specifics?"

"Better than that," she said. "I made a copy of my notes." She handed him the sheaf of papers she had been holding, and Harry took it without thinking. It wasn't a portkey, apparently, and his hand didn't shrivel up when he touched the parchment, so he shrunk the lot and tucked them in his pocket. "All right, then. I'll look over the components for the first set, and if I can, I'll get them for you. If I can't, I'll let you know by owl as soon as possible."

"Good enough." She drained her wine and stood, holding out her hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Potter."

"Bulstrode," he said in acknowledgement, shaking her hand. "Can you find your way back to the Cauldron?"

She shook her head. "Through that mess? I'll just apparate, thanks. See you in September!" With a grin and a clap of collapsing air, she vanished. Harry left quickly, locking the door behind him.

He took his time about getting back to the shop, doing some shopping and taking advantage of the press on the Tube to collect some stray hairs from forgettable-looking Muggles of roughly his size and build. He was just putting his cloak away when the twins came into the room.

"Harry!"

"What've you got?"

Embarrassed, Harry looked back at the box on his bed. "Er ... cognac? Mostly? I was out on the Muggle side, today."

They walked over. Fred opened the carton and pulled out a bottle. He frowned at it for a moment and then let out a low whistle. "Rather dear, isn't it?"

Harry sighed. "It's made from champagne."

George leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. "So, Harrykins, why are you buying that?"

Leaning against the bed, Harry took the bottle from Fred. "Because my introduction to drinking was from the Malfoy heir? Why, would you suggest something else?"

"Er, beer?" George said.

"I don't think a year's supply of beer would fit in my school trunk."

"Ah. Well, I had wondered about the volume."

"We may still be wondering about the volume."

"But you should try firewhisky," George said more brightly.

"Or even Muggle whisky."

"You'll be in the heart of Scotland in another week."

"Why bring French booze from London?"

"Er..." Harry shrugged. "Can I buy whisky in Hogsmeade?"

Fred sat down. "You are of age, you know."

"I suppose. I figured everything there would get back to Dumbledore."

"Ah."

"Well, a lot does."

"But we recommend the Hogshead. Anything the barman serves, he'll sell you by the bottle."

"Discreetly."

Harry thought about this, and then nodded. "All right. For now, would you like to try some French booze from London?"

George grinned. "We're always open to new experiences, aren't we Fred?"

"Especially ones with a fifteen Galleon price tag, offered for free," Fred agreed. He summoned three mismatched glasses from the kitchen. With a snort, Harry turned them into snifters.

"There," he said, handing the first to George. "Now it looks expensive too." He gave a second to Fred and then poured one for himself.

"I have to say...." Fred began.

"We were wondering..."

Fred, who had just taken a sip, coughed.

"Hm?" Harry said. He was still inhaling the fumes off his.

"Definitely whisky. Bloody strong, that is!"

"Oh. Um, when I said 'made from champagne,' I meant 'distilled from.'"

"So, as we were saying...." George resumed, having tasted his more cautiously.

"We were wondering if this drinking thing was entirely made up."

"Not having seen any of it--"

"In over two weeks."

"Oh. Well, exaggerated." Harry shrugged. "Though we did overdo it sometimes. Especially me, I suppose."

They shared a glance. "Malfoy didn't keep you company?" Fred asked.

"He wanted control more, I think." Harry grinned. "Afraid he'd tell me I was hot, maybe."

George snorted. "Think much of yourself?"

"Well, it's what he says now." Harry stuck his tongue out at George. "Which gives us a few better things to do when we hide out together."

Fred laughed. "I think you may have over-packed, then!"

"Well, Draco won't have been out, so it's for two." Harry tried not to look embarrassed. "Okay. Maybe. But I need bribes too."

"Now you're just making excuses," George said, shaking his hair back.

"Probably. Can we say we're done?"

"Probably," Fred mimicked. He lifted his head. "Actually, we wanted to ask you a favor."

"Oh? Don't you know better than to hassle me beforehand, yet?"

Fred waved off the objection. "Just -- it will make sense."

"See, this weekend, and the next--"

"The two before Hogwarts starts."

"Are the biggest shopping weekends of the season."

"And the shop's almost ready."

"Would you mind moving to our flat?"

"For a few days?"

Harry stared. "I came here to avoid--"

"But that was then!"

"The enemy's already scoped it, don't you think?"

"Just for Saturday and Sunday."

Harry sighed. "Oh..." On the verge of agreement, he stopped. "Look, part of why I felt this was safe was it wasn't widely known to be yours."

"Just next weekend, then? The Hogwarts Express is on Monday."

Harry considered this. It wasn't too dangerous, and it would make a big difference to the business. "Okay, you can open. I won't move to your flat, though. This is the office. No one should see it."

"But what if someone notices?"

"You can't be entirely quiet."

"Yeah, but what if I just take a flask of polyjuice and leave for the day? I can go the zoo, or something."

"As us?"

"Nah. While I was out, I picked up a few hairs from passing Muggles. It should be safe enough."

"All right."

"But you need some way to signal us."

"In case it's not."

"We can charm a set of rings."

"If you take yours off, ours will burn."

"And you need to bring the portkey that Lupin gave you."

"Okay." Harry grinned. "Sorted."

That night, he wrote two letters.

Professor McGonagall,

I received your letter from Remus Lupin. I would be happy to meet with you when I return to Hogwarts, but I'm fairly sure that I want to take these courses:

Defense against the Dark Arts

Transfiguration

Charms

Potions

Cursebreaking

Symbology

I've bought all the books already. I'll see you on the first of September! (I wouldn't miss it for anything.)

Regards,

Harry

Dear Draco,

I miss you terribly. I miss you every night, and I miss you when something interesting happens and I want to tell you about it, and I miss you when nothing's going on, and I know that together, we'd have fun somehow.

I probably haven't been as bored as you, though -- I have the twins to entertain me. I've also been out a few times, and I've met up with Bulstrode and Zabini (separately), so, yeah, probably not as careful as you'd like, but I promise I was very careful with both of them.

Do you want to take Cursebreaking with me? The texts look interesting, and if the professor is at all competent, it should be a great class. I'm also staying in Potions, though I'm sure Professor McGonagall would rather I dropped it.

Should we meet in our place after the Welcoming Feast, or maybe after lights out that night?

Love,

Harry

The next two weeks passed slowly. Harry acquired sphinx feathers, gargoyle dust, and the first batch of the harmless components for Millicent's first potion. Some components had to be fresh; he estimated that he would need two deliveries from Fred and George. The quantity required for a three-month course was also more than he could walk into an apothecary and buy anonymously, but the twins, as commercial producers, should have an easier time with that. He decided he would tell them that he had formed an unofficial dueling club with some friends, and that they needed to make some custom healing potions in order to avoid notice. Fred and George would approve of that sort of thing.

The weekend that the shop was open passed without incident, except for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes making a lot of money. It was the day before that, on Friday, that Harry spotted Ron and Hermione coming out of Slug & Jiggers. He managed to keep from revealing himself, but he followed them all over Diagon Alley, feeling lonelier by the minute, and longing to be back at Hogwarts, where he could both talk to them and be with someone the way they were with each other.