The Mysterious Tower

CHAPTER ONE - Summer with the Malfoys

The future is a race between education and catastrophe.
     -- H.G. Wells

When Harry Potter had been asked where he pictured himself a few years out of Hogwarts, his honest answer had been that he didn't expect to survive that long. He had certainly never thought that he'd be in a country cottage in Scotland with this set of people.

There was something surreal about blowing out the candles on a cake in front of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Ginny's constant mumbling behind him didn't help Harry's perspective any, either. She had settled down into a pattern - she'd spend a few hours each day recounting each time that she'd been failed by Harry, and then she'd start in on her brothers, her parents, and her Professors. Finally, she'd settle into what seemed like honest nightmares - at least, she was making statements that didn't seem to apply to anything he'd heard of.

"Don't go into the Tower, Harry." She was repeating it now. This was one of her most common dreams. He wasn't sure what it was about, just that he seemed to be there. It also sounded like Hermione was in it -- Ginny would call out her name sometimes, too.

They'd been here since early March, after taking their time finding their way up here. The cottage was owned by the Malfoys under another name - the Foxhearts, which was the name of an older branch of the family. It didn't have any house elves, which meant that Harry did most of the work around the house. Narcissa had ventured out and bought the cake from a store, however, which was more effort than other people he'd lived with had gone through.

Harry was twenty years old, now. In some countries, he'd still be considered a child, even having lived through - and fought in - a war with the potential to change the world.

He'd made a wish as he blew out the candles, but it wasn't immediately granted. He'd hoped that he could start again - that he could wake up back in Hogwarts, before the Orpheus curse.

He'd been awake the night before at midnight, still half expecting the flurry of owls from his years between Hogwarts semesters. He knew they wouldn't come, but somehow expected that they would, despite the fact that Ron was dead, Ginny was here with him, and he'd told Hermione to get lost.

Harry cut into the cake, and served up a piece for each of them. Lucius dug into his greedily, quickly covering his face with chocolate icing. Narcissa ate only small bites of hers.

When he was done with his cake, Harry picked up Narcissa's plate and his own, and started to head to the kitchen, but Narcissa touched his arm gently. "Take care of these later. You're forgetting something." She pulled out a small stack of packages from under the table.

Presents. Harry was shocked.

Narcissa continued, timidly. "I didn't really know anything that you wanted -- at least, not anything that I could give you." Her eyes flicked to Ginny. "I miss buying things for my son."

Harry opened the presents, trying to show an appropriate amount of appreciation. She had gotten him a nice leather jacket, black leather boots, black robes, a book on popular curses, and a Muggle men's magazine. Harry tried not to laugh at the preposterous promises on the front of it, or the pictures of men in leather trousers.

"Draco always liked that one," she said. "I'm not sure why."

Harry thanked her, and then carried the dishes to the kitchen. It was funny how you could get into a routine that let you not think about how bad your life had become. He wondered what, if anything, could break him out of it. Would it be a bunch of Aurors arriving? Would Lucius awake some day, and put him out of his misery? Would a Dark Wizard arrive to try to convert him again -- to bring him the rest of the way over to the dark side?

There was a scratching at the window. Harry pulled out his wand and moved towards it. With a gasp, he opened it wide, letting in Hedwig, who circled and then landed, looking proud of herself. She presented a talon.

Harry looked with misgivings at the note, but didn't move to untie it from her. At least it wasn't a Howler, but he couldn't think of anything he would want to hear. What could it say? Nothing good, he thought.

Hedwig was starting to look impatient. She was still holding out one talon, and Harry wondered just how long she could keep it up. The look on her face clearly warned him not to ignore her.

Harry reached down and untied the note, and Hedwig nipped his hand. His own punishment for not moving fast enough, he thought. At least Hedwig was satisfied with a little skin and blood. The others who cried out for his punishment wouldn't be satisfied until there was nothing left of him.

There were two notes here, two notes on one parchment, from two different people. He recognized both sets of handwriting. The first was from Kirsten. She said only that she had used a Durmstrang enchantment to enable the note carrier to find him, but that she couldn't do it again. She wished that he would consider visiting her over the summer, or that he would send a note.

The second part was longer, and it was from the person he both most and least wanted to hear from.

Dear Harry,

I wish I had been able to really talk to you before you left Durmstrang. I don't think that things are as bad as you think; there has to be a way for you to survive this.

There's something that I should tell you. Kirsten made me promise that I wouldn't chicken out at the last minute, and it's only her insistence that's making me say it. That, and the fact that she says she won't send you a thing if I don't.

I love you, Harry. There, I've said it. I feel like such a schoolgirl putting it in black and white, but there it is.

Now, down to business.

The prophecy has some sort of enchantment on it to make it impossible to copy down. It's like being Unplottable; you can talk about it all you want, you just can't write it down that simply. I've been researching possible counter-charms in Johansen's Guide to Magical Countermeasures, but I couldn't wait to find one to write you.

The gist of the prophecy, though, is that you still have a choice. I'm not sure what that choice is, or when you will have to make it, but the time hasn't passed yet. While I don't know when you will have to make the choice, I do know where. There's a tower on an island north of Scotland. It's nothing too impressive, but it's known as a place Dark Wizards have met before. Its name is Torr Tiom'Chaorach, which is a story in and of itself.

If you never go to the tower, you will not have to make the choice. However, prophecies are not usually that easy to avoid, unless they come from a certain soon-to-be-former Professor of Hogwarts.

If you do have to face the prophecy, Harry, I'm certain that you will make the right choice. I know we didn't talk much last year, but I saw enough to know that you were the same Harry I've always known. Please, Harry, I know it doesn't look like there's any way out of this, but please don't think that it's all over.

Kirsten says I'm about at the limit of what her spell will let me send, so she's making me stop now. It's probably for the best. Just remember, Harry, I'll always care.

With Love,

Hermione

Harry put the note down when he was done. He looked like he had been stupefied.

He just stood there for a moment. He could feel Narcissa's eyes on him. He might as well ask. "Have you heard of the tower...the Torr Tiom'Chaorrach?" He held out the letter sideways, still not looking her in the face.

Narcissa read it quickly, and then smiled. "It sounds like you won't need to ask after Pansy Parkinson after all." She handed the letter back to him.

Harry shook his head in denial. "It's nice of her to say... what she said... but I can't be with her."

"Harry, you're not a Muggle. You should know that there are more possibilities than what you can see. Don't say can't."

"If I was a Muggle, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Don't be too sure." Narcissa was silent. "There's almost always a way to get out of problems if you look hard enough, if you choose to risk what it takes."

"Well, what's my way out of this?"

"It's not the tower."

There was something in the way she said it that made Harry believe that she wasn't saying everything she knew. He turned, looking at her. "What do you know?"

"I'm not sure. I know that Lucius said that there was a tower that Voldemort thought would bring him immortality. He said that Voldemort couldn't use it, though. I'm not sure why."

"You'd think he would have tried anyway."

"Lucius said that he couldn't. He was pretty evasive about it. This was before I really knew how closely Lucius was working with him."

"Can you think of anyone else that would know anything about it?"

Narcissa shrugged. "Most of the Dark Wizards that I know are in Azkaban. I'd ask Lucius, but he would probably bark like a dog." Harry could tell that thinking about Lucius' mental state was painful to her, and that her cavalier statements just covered how much it hurt.

"Well, I'm not breaking anyone else out of Azkaban to ask them. Who else would know?"

Narcissa shook her head. "I'm not sure. It sounds like your friend there might know more."

Harry wasn't sure he liked that idea. "It's not safe for me to get close to her right now. Besides, if she had a good resource on the tower, she would have mentioned it. She would have used up all her space on a bibliography if she had anything."

"Well, you could attack the problem from the other direction. Instead of trying to find Dark resources on the Tower, you could try to find out more about the prophecy. That's probably too obvious, though. Your friend probably would have tried all the resources in that area."

Harry looked at her oddly. "You know, you may have something there. She doesn't think much of Divination, and I can think of at least one resource that she never would have even considered. Thank you for your help."

Narcissa nodded. "You're quite welcome." She sighed, and moved towards the door."I think I'll go check on Lucius and Ginny. Let me know if you need anything."

Harry nodded absently. He was thinking about what he would need for the next step -- his Cloak, his Broomstick, his wand, his robes, and, just in case of emergency, an extra pair of socks.

~.~.~

Kirsten closed the door to her office firmly behind Hermione, their goodbyes said. Kirsten was almost sorry to see Hermione go, despite their rivalries. There were a few advantages though, including the fact that she could put her own plans into action without Hermione's interference. While Miss Granger had no official power at Durmstrang, she had a strong will and the ability to make that will known. There were some things that Kirsten had planned which she knew would not stand up to Hermione's review.

Kirsten carefully latched her door, and called up for a pitcher of water and two glasses from the kitchen. She pulled out her wand, and put silencing wards all around the room. Then she walked over to her desk. Opening a drawer, she removed a small glass sphere, one that was mostly clear with just a hint of darkness. She placed the sphere carefully on a velvet cloth on the floor, and removed a silver hammer from the drawer, along with a wand that she'd saved from being broken not long before. Muttering an incantation, she brought the hammer down sharply on the sphere.

The glass shattered. There was a wailing sound, an outrush of wind, as particles seemed to whirl inside a cloud of smoke. The particles started to group together, and the wail became a cry.

A skeleton formed from the magical dust, and then muscles clumped onto bones. Clothes appeared over newly formed flesh, a black robe with a cowl, black boots, and black leather gloves.

The new arrival slumped to the ground. His scream faded out, his voice almost entirely gone. Kirsten hoped that she wasn't making a mistake, but she wasn't sure what else she could do to help Harry, and he deserved whatever she could do for him. She offered a glass of water to her guest, and then sat, waiting, as he drained it. She hoped that she could control him -- Harry didn't need to have any more surprises right now.