Harry Potter and the Touch of Innocence

Harry Potter and the Touch of Innocence
Chapter 1 - Legacy

It was in the dawn of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Harry Potter first encountered a prophecy. This one spoke of four Wands - one of which was his ... or was it? With the help of his closest friends and a sixth year girl with a secret, young Harry discovered the whereabouts of the Wands, and also who he must battle to get it. For the Wand of Earth is one of the few objects that could help the Dark Lord to his old reign of fear.

The two Parseltongues met, and they fought under the dome ceiling of the Astronomy Tower. Harry came away with the Wand, but it was not a victory. It had been a slip of fate, and that was never good.

It is now Christmas. He is staying at the Burrow with his friends, and he is trying to enjoy himself. But he can't. Why? If you asked him, he wouldn't be able to tell you. Neither would Arandelle, the sixth year wielder of the Wand of Air. They both feel it. And there is something they have all overlooked ...

This is the second part of the Dark Star trilogy - a tale of unlikely circumstances, unlikely chances and unlikely characters.

---

Harry checked his watch impatiently. 'I still don't see why we need to do this.'

Ron grumbled. 'Neither do I.'

'Of course we have to do this,' Hermione said brightly. 'Look, it's a special occasion. We never get to take time off. Ever since the first year, our lives have been one non-stop action movie-'

'What's a movie?" Ron wondered half to himself.

'-Now is our chance to get all dressed up, for once, and have some fun together. Even Mrs. Weasley thought it was a good idea.'

'Always thought Mum was a mad delinquent,' Ron muttered, not quite under his breath.

'It's only going to be dinner,' emphasized Hermione. 'That's it. We're just going out to dinner together. For one night.'

'So that justifies us going shopping ... how?' Arandelle put in.

'I thought I already explained that. Never mind. We need to get going. See you at the restaurant at seven.' Hermione waved the boys into the distance and took off dragging Arandelle along behind her.

Harry stared after her. 'Did you catch any of that?'

Ron shrugged. 'Do I ever?'

'I suppose we'd better do what she wants ...' Harry said slowly. 'Or she'll get all ... I don't know ... McGonagall on us. Psycho-McGonagall.'

'Right. Okay.' Ron nodded. He paused. 'Do you know anywhere we can get Muggle clothes that will make her happy?'

'We'll find a place.' He grimaced inwardly. 'At least, we'd better.'

---

Sirius Black clapped his hand around Lupin's shoulders in a misfittingly genial manner. The wind was cold and biting, and their heads were bent against it even as they conversed. 'So, Remus,' he said with a great deal of ease. 'You never got around to telling me who your roommate was ...'

Lupin looked genuinely shocked. He stared at Sirius, who was grinning. 'You were always the irresponsible one-'

'Hang on Remus,' Sirius interrupted quickly. 'I was just kidding.'

'-And always the girl magnet, as I remember,' Lupin continued, getting his own back.

'Always ...' echoed Sirius in defeated tones, remembering a certain incident between a girl, a misunderstanding and a rather large Muggle frying pan.

The scar still hurt in rainy weather.

They continued to walk through the snow-lined streets of London, back to Lupin's apartment. Sirius stopped as they came to a slightly lopsided building. Lupin looked quickly at him.

'What is it, Padfoot?' he asked.

Sirius frowned. 'That's the Burrow.'

'What?'

'That's the Weasley's house ... Harry's staying there for the holidays,' Sirius explained. 'He wrote me an owl saying that he'd be here if I wanted to send him anything.'

'Ahh ...' Lupin nodded. 'Ron. I see now. Let's go and say hello.'

'All the lights are out,' Sirius said. 'Maybe there're asleep ...'

'Not at -' Lupin checked his watch '- eight o' clock. Especially not the twins, at their age. They're a pair of devils between them.'

Sirius, hands stuffed tightly into the pockets of his jacket to keep warm, walked up to the window and peered between the blinds. 'No one's home,' he reported.

'How do you know that?'

'Wizards Clock,' Sirius grinned. 'You can see it from here - come have a look. All the hands are pointing away from "home", but it's too dark to see where exactly they are.'

Lupin peered over his friend's shoulder. 'You're right!' he exclaimed. Then, 'We'd better go then, before we activate any Burglar's Curses lying around ...'

'I guess you're right.' Sirius turned around, and began to walk back down the driveway. His foot hit something large and soft. He leapt back with a start, running into Lupin.

'What's - hey!' the werewolf struggled to keep his balance.

'I just kicked something ... something soft ...' He was breathing hard.

'A pet?'

Sirius shook his head. 'Can't have been. It's too big. And -' he swallowed hard '- whatever it was, it was dead.'

'Dead ...?' Lupin's grey eyes widened, but he knelt down and began to feel around in the snow. 'How do you know it was dead?'

'It didn't move when I hit it,' explained Sirius. 'It just lay there.'

Lupin's fingers brushed something. 'I've got something here,' he reported, grabbing it with both hands and pulling it out of the shadows into the moonlight. In the reflected blue and silver light of the thing, Lupin saw Sirius' jaws drop.

The figure was human, dressed in a fancy blue dinner-dress. Its black hair swept over its shoulders and billowed in the wind. The face was deathly pale, lips parted in a final plea, and its expression was absolutely blank.

'Arandelle ...' Sirius murmured slowly, stepping away from the body.

'Who?' Lupin demanded. 'Sirius? What's going on?'

But Sirius was too busy staring at the corpse's eyes. Both eyeballs were a shadowy black, swept clean of any colour at all.

---

'Where is she?' Hermione demanded as the slightly confused waiter took away the bill. 'She said she'd be here!'

'Calm down, Hermione,' Harry said quietly.

'She chickened out! I don't believe it!' Hermione sounded slightly hysterical.

'Well that just proves Arandelle had better sense than any of us,' Ron said. He was grinning, but his eyes looked worried. 'But it wasn't that bad, I guess.'

'Let's go,' Hermione said aggressively. She stood up and edged her way around her seat. 'I'm going to hunt her down and shoot her.'

Harry said nothing. The evening had been pretty good for the three of them - a rare, brief holiday for his friends and him. He almost hated Arandelle for making them worry ... but she would be okay. She would have an explanation, he was sure.

Side by side the three strode, warm and content, out of the restaurant. The night air was shockingly cold in the absence of the coal braziers. Hermione dug into her bag for a jacket to wear over her own dress. Crickets serenaded them with sweet, unharmonious music as they turned, as one, back towards the Burrow.

A shooting star swept over the sky, like a stroke of fairy dust. Harry, lost in thought, was too busy watching it to notice a figure hurtle down the road towards them. Too busy to notice, that is, until it was too late.

He hit the ground shoulder-first, and from the sound of a startled yell and a small shriek, Hermione and Ron had landed nearby. The figure - a tall man dressed in a long trenchcoat - stopped running long enough to say, 'Sorry,' in a hoarse, familiar tone.

He offered a pale, grizzled hand to Harry who accepted. With moonlight and starlight streaming down upon them, casting shadows on his face, Harry recognised the stranger.

'Sirius?' he asked, puzzled, as he watched him pull up Ron and Hermione.

Sirius whirled around. 'Harry?' He stared at Hermione, dinner-dress and all. 'Hermione? Ron?'

For a moment he stood there, uncomprehending of their presence. Then, with a shout, he swept Harry up in a godfatherly embrace.

'What're you doing in London, Sirius?' Harry asked when he was finally released.

'Dumbledore's orders,' Sirius said. 'Had to find Lupin.'

'Lupin?' Ron asked, amazed. 'He's here too?'

'Yeah - he lives in some ramshackle apartment around the corner.' Sirius gestured in the general direction.

'But I live over there, too!' Ron said excitedly.

Sirius smiled briefly. Time was scarce, but he needed to talk to Harry. He had an obligation to Dumbledore, but he what he owed James and Lily was beyond mere obligations.

'What're you doing walking around the streets at this time, you three?' he asked them.

'It's eight-thirty,' Hermione told him. 'Not even remotely late.'

'Ah,' Sirius said, remembering what Lupin had told him. 'Of course.'

Harry flashed him a grin. 'Feeling a bit out of date?'

Sirius shrugged. 'I can keep up with the news well enough ... but with all the changing teenage customs - well, that's beyond me.'

'What, like you ever went to bed at eight o'clock at our age?' demanded Ron.

He shook his head, no longer smiling. 'We've got trouble, Harry,' he said, lowering his voice. 'Voldemort's gone and done something rash and stupid - and most likely world-threatening. And I think his plan has already begun.'

'What do you mean ...?' Harry trailed off into silence.

'We ... Lupin and I ...' Sirius hesitated, wondering how to tell them. 'We were on our way back to his apartment when we came across the Burrow.'

Ron was frowning, his eyebrows slanted together.

'And ...' Sirius continued. 'Well - that's when we found her.'

'Who?' Hermione asked.

But Harry already knew. 'Arandelle. Voldemort killed Arandelle.'

Ron's eyes widened. 'What?'

'It's true, isn't it?' Harry demanded. Sirius nodded silently.

'No!' Ron said. 'No. You're lying.'

A tear trickled down the side of Hermione's face, but she said nothing.

'I don't believe you,' Ron said in an unemotional voice to Sirius.

'Come and see for yourself, Ron,' he said heavily. 'It's true. All of it.'

They began to move - slowly at first, then faster - towards the Burrow. 'But why?' Harry asked. 'Why her, and not me?'

'I don't know,' admitted Sirius. 'Maybe you can ask Dumbledore that. You're going straight back to Hogwarts at any rate. All three of you.'

They rounded the corner into the driveway. A figure stood up from a crouched position near the steps. It was Lupin. He made no move to stop them as Sirius lead them to where the body lay. His weathered face was without a smile; on the contrary, he looked very grim.

Ron made a choking noise as he saw the body. Hermione burst into tears. Harry remained silent. Something told him that his first instinct had been wrong; the death of his friend was not Voldemort's doing - at least, not entirely. No, something else had done it. A cold wind swept past them in a brief tornado.

Then he watched as Arandelle's crumpled form dissolved before his very eyes, before being swept away into nothingness on the winter wind.

---

The Hogwarts Express steamed heavily on. Sirius' grim form was long-lost in the distance. They were heading back to Hogwarts after the Ministry had issued a direction for all students attending the school to head back there early. Early for some, that was. Harry couldn't help thinking that it was too late for at least one of them. Two of them, really. First Cedric, now Arandelle. Who would be next - was there any way to tell? Not likely.

And was it just coincidence? Not likely in that respect either.

Harry hadn't slept since he had met Sirius and Lupin that night on the street, but he wasn't tired. Lupin, however, was looking older and more grizzled than usual. He'd joined them on the train, whilst Sirius had left them at the platform. Harry didn't need to ask why. Dumbledore's orders.

He did, however, buy some food from the plump witch with the trolley; a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a dozen Cauldron Cakes to share among themselves. Ron shook his head as Harry passed around the lot. Hermione took a Cauldron Cake but didn't unwrap it. Lupin, however, took a Chocolate Frog with a faint smile.

'Sirius, James and I had a history with these,' he said, watching the Frog squirm around on his knees. Then, as he saw Harry looking up, he explained. 'It was in our fourth year - it was Sirius' plan, of course - we saved up our money for six months so we could go to Hogsmeade and buy a crate of Chocolate Frogs. And - and-' he began to laugh, despite himself '- and we unwrapped them all and set them loose on the castle ...'

The Frog looked disgruntled, but Lupin ignored it and bit off its head. He glanced at the card - Agrippa - and offered it to Ron. 'I hear you collect these,' he said gently, holding out the card.

Ron looked at it, looking as though he was about to speak. Then he changed his mind, and shook his head. Lupin said nothing but handed the card to Harry. 'For later,' he whispered, and Harry nodded.

'Who's your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year?' he asked, deliberately directing the question towards Hermione.

Who looked up. 'Professor Dale,' she murmured distantly. Then, more precisely, 'Artemis Dale.' She smiled. 'Another old school friend?'

'No,' he answered, returning the smile. 'At least, I hope not. Ours was a very peculiar school year - just like yours, you could say.'

'You could say that.' The hoarse voice came from a surprise source - Ron. He didn't look happier in anyway, but at least he was speaking.

Lupin's smile faded. He got up and sat back down next to Ron. 'Ron ...' he began in a low voice.

'She knew,' Ron said suddenly. Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance. 'She knew this was going to happen.'

'Arandelle?' Lupin's grey eyes were probed the youngest Weasley boy's face.

'Somehow she knew. I don't know ... she just did,' he said by way of explanation. 'She lead us into her world - and then she stranded us here. Almost like it was on purpose.'

'What makes you say that?' Lupin asked very quietly.

'She - she told me.' His face was twisted in an expression of internal agony with himself. 'She didn't tell me, really, but ... things she said ... not all of them, just some of them ... I - I mean-'

Lupin nodded. 'It's alright, Ron,' he said understandingly.

Ron looked up for the first time since they had gotten onto the train. A single tear spilled over his eyelid and down his cheek. He took a deep breath and said, 'The things she said - they didn't make sense back then. But - but now ...' Another tear followed the shining trail of the first. 'Why didn't I see it before!' he raged, angry at himself.

'What did she say?'

Ron swallowed hard. 'When we were in the Divination Room, that time, looking for the Wand ... she told me that she didn't want me to fall for her. That it wasn't meant to be. And that there was another.'

'Do you believe in fate?' Harry was startled to see that Lupin was putting what seemed like unnecessary emphasis on the sentence. 'Do you honestly believe that there is someone powerful enough to map out your entire life, and force you to stick to that path?'

Ron stared at his former teacher. 'I ...' he began haltingly, but he was interrupted.

A shrill whistle announced the end of the journey. The Hogwarts Expressed jerked to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, and students began to pile out. Lupin stood up abruptly.

'I need to speak to Dumbledore,' he announced. 'But I can't leave you three by yourselves. Not after ... well, I just can't. Let's go - there's a lot of things I need to do.'

Ron slipped past Lupin without a word. Hermione watched him through terrified eyes as she followed. Lupin put his hand out to stop Harry for a moment.

'He'll be alright,' he said, indicating with a jerk of the head that he meant Ron. 'Just give him some time.'

---

It was still officially holidays when the three returned to Gryffindor tower for the first time in a few weeks. Everything seemed cold and dormant. Uninviting. Vague ideas such as Christmas, OWLs and dinner only briefly touched Harry's mind. He wasn't even quite sure how the rest of the day passed. What he had once thought was his home seemed very different now.

The next morning, he woke up and slid his glasses on like any other day - before realizing that there was a small pile of packages at the end of his bed that he hadn't noticed the night before. Neville and Ron were still asleep - Dean and Seamus, by the look of their beds and lack of presents, were long gone.

He walked barefoot over to his trunk and opened it, slipping out a clumsily wrapped package. They had gone shopping in London with the Weasleys on their first day out of school, and Harry had bought his Christmas presents in Diagon Alley. For Hermione he had purchased an assortment of coloured inks and special parchments.

But it had taken him a lot longer to think of something for Ron. For a while he'd considered pooling his money with Hermione's and getting him a broomstick - but then he'd changed his mind. This was more appropriate anyway, he thought.

Harry grinned to himself, and prodded Ron in the shoulder. 'Merry Christmas, Ron,' he said, pushing his parcel so that his friend could see it.

'Mergghh ...' was Ron's reply as he rolled over uncomfortably. 'Merry Christmas to you too,' he added in a much more sarcastic tone.

Harry headed back to his own treasure pile. He spotted what looked like the usual Weasley jumper - black, this year, with an emerald green lion on it. There was the usual measly gift from the Dursleys, which turned out - to his surprise - to be a AA battery (it was a pity that he didn't have anything to use it on, though). Hagrid had sent him a couple of bars of Hogsmeade chocolate and a note demanding why they hadn't been to see him that year. Hermione had sent along three stuffed animals - a stag, a wolf and a dog, the latter of which she had performed an Engorgement charm on to make it look closer to what it represented. All three of them tossed their heads and moved their feet as if they were real.

But what surprised him most was the package that remain after he had unwrapped all the rest. Fingers trembling slightly, he pulled apart the Spellotape that held the present together. Out fell something warm and glowing. Astounded, Harry picked it up.

It was a phoenix feather - its tip finely tapered into the nib of a quill. He marveled at the pulsating orange and red colours of the feather. From across the room, Ron gaped open-mouthed at it.

'Who sent you that?' he demanded, pushing back his presents and shuffling across the room to his side.

Harry picked up the note that lay among the remnants of the wrapping paper.

'Dear Harry,' he read out loud, his forehead coming together in a frown. 'I couldn't think of what to get you - I didn't know what you'd want. So I thought you might - just might - like this. It's a phoenix feather quill - one of my own, actually. I took it to Scribblus' Ever-Changing Inks in Diagon Alley and the assistant said he'd make a quill out of it, if anyone could. So here it is. I hope you like it.'

Harry already knew who the gift had been from, but he read the signature anyway. 'It's from Arandelle,' he told Ron grimly. 'And it's dated the twentieth of December. It was before she died.'

Ron's eyes were over-bright, but the tears didn't come. Instead, he smiled weakly in an attempt to cover up the terrible pain that had reignited inside his stomach.

'Th- thanks for the dress robes, Harry,' he said quietly.

---

'There was no sign?' Dumbledore asked Lupin for reassurance. They were in the staff room, in the middle of a meeting with the other Professors. Even Professor Trelawney was there.

'None, sir.' Lupin spread his hands and shrugged in a gesture of helplessness. 'None whatsoever.'

'And if what you tell us true,' the Headmaster continued. 'Then there's no way we can double check the body.'

Lupin shook his head. Dumbledore couldn't help but notice that he and Severus Snape were still sitting as far away from each other as possible. Would the feud ever end?

'What does this mean, Albus?' Professor McGonagall asked.

'I honestly don't know,' he answered slowly.

'It's the Dark Lord's doing, isn't it?' squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick.

'We can't be certain,' Dumbledore said heavily. 'Until we have evidence that proves either way, we are in the dark.'

'Perhaps ...' Lupin thought out loud. 'Perhaps if there was a way we could ask her ...'

'Who?' demanded Snape. 'Arandelle? The girl's dead, Lupin!'

Lupin looked taken aback. 'I thought we were on the same side, Severus.'

'No spell can resurrect the dead, Remus, you know that,' Professor McGonagall reminded him more gently.

'I only thought that-'

But Dumbledore held up a hand to stop the werewolf in mid sentence. His eyes flashed bright blue. 'There might be a way ...'

The entire staff, and Lupin, looked up at him incredulously. 'It's a well known fact that there is no way to bring back the dead,' said Professor Sprout said nervously, straightening her patched hat. 'You've said so yourself many times, Professor, and everyone agrees.'

'I may have been mistaken,' Dumbledore said. 'There is a chance. It's an old spell - a forgotten one, really. If I recall correctly ...it's based around an certain object belonging to the deceased. And it can only be used once.'

He straightened up, a serious expression upon his aged face. 'Professor McGonagall, please go to Gryffindor Tower and bring back Mr Harry Potter, Mr Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. They may be the only ones able to help us.'