Harry Potter and the Touch of Innocence

Harry Potter and the Touch of Innocence
Chapter 5 - Close Encounters

The sidewalks were slushed with snow, when Harry and Ron went back to the Burrow. Harry's thick jacket did not keep out the cold. Inside the house, the fire was burning strongly. Mrs. Weasley looked up from her cup of tea as they came in.

'Hello Ron,' she said. 'Hello Harry. That was fast.'

'There's only so much time you can spend squandering money,' Ron disagreed. Harry nodded feverently.

'Well, it is a special occasion,' Mrs. Weasley began to say but she was interrupted by a derisive snort from her son.

'Has Hermione been feeding you something?' he asked.

She stared at him for a moment, unsure of what he meant. Then, she laughed. 'Oh, that's funny!'

The boys exchanged a look.

'We'd better get changed,' Harry said finally.

'Let's,' Ron said.

---

This is weird, Sirius commented silently.

Lupin ignored him.

This is really weird, Sirius continued.

Lupin stopped in the middle of opening a door.

What is it?

Déja vu, Lupin said, shaking the odd feeling from his head. He stepped outside and raised his hand against the glare of the sunlight. Get used to it, Sirius - we may be stuck together for a while.

That's supposed to be comforting?

As I recall, we did volunteer for this, Lupin pointed out. Something along the lines of "sounds like fun" as I recall ...

Rub it in, why don't you, Lupin?

You can't exactly shut me out. Animus Lingua is not without it's grievances I suppose ... Lupin flashed a grin that Sirius couldn't see. He wasn't exactly sure where his old friend was - somewhere close enough to watch him, but far enough away for him not to be seen. He put on a straight face and walked down the street. Which house is it again?

From his seat in a café across the road Sirius quickly checked his notebook. It's got big iron gates in front, apparently. You can't miss it. Two houses down from the mansion is a park. Don't suppose you could miss that either. That's where you're supposed to meet Snape.

Time to save the world again, Padfoot? Lupin asked silently as he moved down the street, his eyes narrowed and searching.

Absolutely.

---

Hermione inhaled. 'Okay, Malfoy,' she said.

'My friends call my Draco,' he replied with no hint whatsoever that he was joking.

She gave him a look. 'Why don't we start at the beginning, Malfoy?'

'I thought I'd already told you that.'

'You did, but Harry and Ron weren't around at that point in time.'

Draco looked up to see the two boys watching him closely, and sighed. 'What's to say?'

'Everything,' Ron said, his expression dark. 'Why we're here - why you're here for that matter.'

'To be perfectly honest with you, Weasley,' Draco retorted, 'I don't know why you're here either. Why don't you tell me?'

'Because I don't know. Why don't you tell me?'

'No, you tell me.'

Harry reached out a grabbed a handful of Ron's jumper just before the youngest Weasley boy punched Malfoy right between the eyes.

'We're here because we think you have something important to tell us,' Hermione said much more reasonably. 'We - at least I - think that you're telling the truth. It's up to you to convince Harry and Ron.'

Malfoy stared at them, a sudden shadow coming over his grey eyes. 'Half the time I don't even know if I'm telling the truth.'

'You don't actually expect us to believe that, do you?' Ron snapped. He seemed to be taking Malfoy's change of heart personally.

'Think about it, Ron,' Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest. 'Has he ever been this frazzled before? Look in his eyes.'

Ron snorted and turned away, but Harry leaned forward to take a look. Malfoy looked over his shoulder to see what was going on, and for a moment in time, their gaze locked. Grey against green.

And for that moment, Harry was thrown into another world.

Vwoosh.

He didn't feel so much as sense the wind rush past, chilling his exposed skin and pulling his hair over his eyes. He couldn't see below the lacre surface of the water he stood on but he knew that it was there, and what he could and couldn't do, and what would happen if he violated those dagger edged rules.

And just as he sensed the air and water, he could sense the people around him. Three others there were - Harry's heart leapt at the number. Four of them were here. Did that mean ...?

They were blurred and shining but he could still make out some of their features. He recognised stark red hair on one, black hair on another, blonde hair, light brown hair ... with a start, he realised that there were more than three people. No matter how hard he tried, though, he could not make out anything else but the most obvious things.

'Harry?' Hermione was staring at him, a frown forming on her forehead.

Harry jumped. And in the split second it took him to react to the sound of her voice, he was back in the library. Back to finding the truth. Half the vision - prediction? memory? daydream? - was ripped from his mind as he struggled to find the point where he had left off. He shot Malfoy a startled look.

'Did you ...?' He left it hanging.

'Did I what?' The look of total incomprehension told Harry that he had been alone in ... in whatever it had been.

'Never mind,' he replied and tried to wipe the troubled look from his face. 'Where were we?'

'We were discussing how we could get the truth,' Hermione said.

'Also, why we would want the truth,' he heard Ron mutter next to him.

Harry frowned. 'What's truth in Latin?'

'Veritas,' Hermione said immediately.

Harry snapped his fingers in triumph as the idea hit him. 'Veritaserum.'

'Snape's got some,' Ron remembered, looking excited.

Malfoy, however, looked perturbed. 'Veritaserum? Isn't that illegal?'

'You of all people should know that,' Harry pointed out.

'Then how do you know Professor Snape has any?'

'Call him what you will,' Ron put in, testily, 'but have the decency to wait until you've helped us steal Veritaserum from Snape's office to give us etiquette lessons.

'Steal?' Malfoy's voice rose an octave or so. 'From Snape?'

Hermione was wringing her hands in dismay with a similar expression on her face that revealed exactly what she was thinking - 'Oh no. We are going to get into so much trouble for this. Oh no, oh no, no no no ...' What she said out loud was, 'Can't we just ask Professor Dumbledore for some?'

'Malfoy doesn't want anyone to know about this,' Ron pointed out with a quick grin. 'And we wouldn't want to break any promises, now, would we?'

'Exactly whose side are you on, Weasley?' Malfoy demanded, standing up to stare the youngest Weasley boy in the eye.

'My friends call me Ron,' was his reply.

With a smile, Harry realised Ron was a lot more intelligent than most people made him out to be.

'Let's go,' he said. 'Potions tomorrow afternoon - and we'll need tonight to prepare for it.'

---

Lupin felt ridiculous, but he sat down on the park bench anyway. He slid across next to the person at the other end. Then, summoning all the courage he could muster in an instant, he said, 'Are you done with that paper?'

While inside he could hear Sirius laughing himself to a slow and terrible death by internal hemorrhage.

Snape looked up from reading the newspaper. 'You!' he accused with a furious look.

'Who were you expecting? Merlin?' Lupin's tone was flat.

'He would've been better than you,' Snape replied bluntly. 'And everyone calls Merlin an overrated hack.'

'Look,' Lupin hissed irritably in an undertone. 'I'm sure you're being watched at the moment - and I'm sure I've already been recognised. If they find out you're a double agent, it's your problem not mine. So let's get on with this.'

Snape stared at him for a moment, and nodded slightly. 'The map's on page sixty nine,' he told him, holding out the paper to Lupin who took it and began to browse through it. Snape checked his watch.

'The office will be empty between eleven o'clock and eleven thirty,' Snape added, trying not to feel like someone out of a stupid Muggle spy novel. 'The Casket - or whatever you want to call it - is on the desk between the bottle of red ink and the pot of Floo powder.'

He hesitated and added, 'By the way, how do you plan to actually get in? If you have been spotted, like you say, then you're going to be followed.'

This was the part that Lupin was looking forward to - a sort of reprieve before going to what the odds claimed would be sure death. 'Don't worry your little brain, Severus,' he said. 'We've got it all figured out.'

He closed the newspaper and tucked it into the bag he carried over his shoulder. The map on page sixty nine was the only thing keeping him from walking into the vampire's quarters. 'You'd better be ready for this,' he continued quietly. 'Get up.'

Snape looked worried but complied.

Worried with good reason. Using a chopping motion with the edge of his hand, Lupin hit him on the side of his neck - not hard, but hard enough to send Snape staggering sideways.

'Fuck you, Lupin,' he snarled, trying to regain his breath.

'You're just going to stand there and swear at me?' Lupin looked unimpressed.

Snape's blood warmed to the invitation to hit one of his oldest enemies. He lunged and took a swipe at Lupin's nose. He missed of course (though he was sorely tempted not to) but Lupin reeled backwards clutching his face.

'I ask you again,' Snape said, watching the werewolf recover from the "blow". 'How are planning to get in?'

'I have my ways,' Lupin said from between his fingers. 'Leave me alone, Snape. I've got work to do.'

Only too happy to do so, he walked off, leaving Lupin cursing after him.

---

Ten minutes later found Lupin at the ivy ridden back gate of Voldemort's mansion. The overgrown weeds at its base told him that people rarely used this entrance - not that it wasn't guarded. A snake, similar to the one on the main gate, rested on its shield. As Lupin approached, it rose forward.

'Password?' it hissed - or, to be more precise, spluttered. Its tongue seemed to be rather rusted.

You know what to do, Sirius told him.

And Lupin did. He walked straight up to it - and front kicked the wrought iron bars, causing the entire gate to keel over into the grass. The snake fell silent.

Lupin surveyed the broken gate with some satisfaction. He would make it look perfect again when he left. In the meantime no one would miss it.

---

Harry rapped his knuckles on the door to Dumbledore's office, but he had barely knocked twice when it swung open to reveal the ancient Headmaster of Hogwarts.

'Uhh ... you asked to see me, Professor?' Harry said.

'I did indeed,' Dumbledore replied, stepping back from the door. 'Come in, Harry. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important.'

As a matter of fact Harry had been with Ron, Hermione and Draco, rehearsing their robbery of Snape's office one last time. Harry smile, thinking of this. 'No, sir, nothing important.'

'I've got something for you.' Dumbledore reached across his desk for a vial of opaque dark blue liquid and offered it to Harry.

Who took it and examined it curiously. 'It's a sleeping potion,' the Headmaster explained. 'The same sort of thing Madam Pomfrey gives you - only this one allows for dreams.'

Harry looked up quickly. Dumbledore smiled slightly, and nodded.

'You want me to take this,' Harry said slowly for Dumbledore's approval, 'so you can see if I can talk to Arandelle ... whenever we need to?'

Dumbledore nodded again. 'She seems to know things that we can't even guess at - I thought it might be useful if we can get in touch as often as possible.'

Harry sat down on one of the benches, vial in hand. In one swift movement, he swallowed the potion and leaned back against the round wall, waiting for something to happen. He didn't even remember closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Dumbledore was shaking him awake. 'Harry?' he was saying.

Harry blinked to wipe the remaining sleep from his eyes. 'It didn't work, Professor,' he said, sitting up straight. 'What's the time?'

'You've been asleep for about fifteen minutes,' Dumbledore said. 'I would've let you go on longer ... but I daresay you have homework to do right now.'

Harry nodded slowly. 'I'm sorry,' he added as he got up to leave. 'I wish it'd worked as well.'

The feeling of disappointment only hit him as he hurried off, but he mentally shook himself free of it. There was no time for disappointment; not now. He had other things to worry about.

If he had been paying more attention, he'd have realised that there was a flaw in their plans to rob Snape's office. Despite all their careful planning, they had all forgotten one thing.

Snape wouldn't be taking Potions.

---

Lupin carefully scaled the outside wall of the Mansion. I can't believe it was that easy, he told Sirius.

You're not anywhere yet, Sirius replied reasonably.

Still. It feels like I'm - we're, I suppose - walking straight into a trap.

The advantages of having someone on the inside, Sirius chuckled. Dumbledore might actually be right about Snape. We'll see.

That we will, Lupin said. He looked over his shoulder - and stared down three and a half storeys of brick wall and some type of climbing plant. The werewolf gulped air as the ground spun beneath him. Forcing himself to look up instead of down, he continued to climb.

Slow going, Sirius commented after a little while.

Look, Sirius, Lupin growled irritably. He was sweating. I'm really quite busy right now, so please don't distract me. No offense.

Sorry.

Lupin grunted in acknowledgment, jamming his hand into a crevice and hauling himself upwards.

A good ten seconds later, I don't suppose you could speed things up, came Sirius's thoughts.

If you want to speed things up so much, you could get your ass over here, Lupin said, quite angry now. And bring a rope.

Sirius hesitated. He had the easier side of things, he knew that. Lupin was more suited for these kind of things anyway. I could do that, he conceded. But ... I think I'll wait.

Bullocks for you. Lupin climbed the last few feet without regret and hung limply over the window sill, resting. Cold sweat dripped over his eyes - he hated heights, but few people knew it. It was one of the reasons he hadn't ever tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team when he had been at school.

Come along now, Sirius said without thinking.

And was instantly rewarded with a series of unrepeatable words as Lupin vented his anger and the after-effects of his fear. This done, Lupin hauled the rest of himself into the room and looked around.

The first thing he noticed was the walls. They were covered in intricate, macabre patterns of eyes, bats, thorns and scales all melded into one and etched in black and white. They gave Lupin a feeling that sank to the bottom of his stomach and sat there. The floor was the same black and white mental hospital tiles as the rest of the Mansion. There was an ornate rug in the middle of the floor - Lupin nervously avoided this, as Dumbledore had warned him about such things. It was as just easy to enchant a rug to come to life as it was to enchant a gate.

Lupin found himself wishing for a life in which this sort of thing was unusual.

The Casket lay on the desk, just as Snape had told him. Scarlet light spilled over it, coming from the bottle of ink (which, Lupin thought, looked suspiciously like human blood). As he approached it, he noticed the letters etched into it - letters that he would've thought were Latin, at first glance, but soon realised were of a different language. There only seemed to be seven unique words, but they were repeated over and over again over the box's surface. He stared at them, and as he did so they seemed to swell up at him and dance around him.

His grey eyes widened, and he blinked. The sensation was gone in an instant. The whole setting was doing weird things to his mind. Feeling that he should get out of here as soon as possible, Lupin reached for the box with trembling fingers. As he brushed it, he pulled back instantly.

His nerves relayed him the pain a moment later. The Casket had been cold - so deathly cold that it had been hot. He looked at his hands; they were their normal brown, with blistering white patches on his fingertips.

What the - Lupin began, but was interrupted.

The door to the office swung open without a warning and in strode Libitina, striking red hair and all.

Her jaw fell open as she saw Lupin standing over the box. 'What's going on?'

In a blizzard of thought, Lupin slammed the door closed with his shoulder and pulled her towards him, his hand closing over her mouth. She struggled against him, but he kept his grip tight. What else could he do?

'Shhh,' he hushed, knowing that her silence was the one thing keeping him alive.

She thrashed harder.

'Shhh ... oh no ... okay, listen,' he said, getting desperate. He couldn't hold her forever. 'I promise, nothing will happen to you. I'm going to let go of you in just a second - please don't scream. If you do, I'll ... I'll have to, err, kill you ... Okay?'

He felt him nod against his hand. Hoping against hope that Voldemort's minions had some sense of honor, Lupin released his hand and cringed, waiting for the fateful cry.

But it didn't come. Libitina, still shocked, stumbled backwards away from him. 'Who are you?' she cried.

Lupin stared. She's good, he told Sirius. Help!

Sirius had a brain wave. You're a private investigator, he said urgently.

'I'm a private investigator,' Lupin said.

Libitina frowned. 'What's a ... private investigator?'

Someone who investigates things, was the best Sirius could come up with. Lupin relayed this.

'I don't understand,' she said. 'Who hired you? What are you investigating?'

Lupin waited for Sirius to come up with something. When he received only silence, Lupin winced and said, 'That's a good question ... um, that's a very good question.'

You've got me stumped, Sirius admitted, sounding worried.

Libitina was starting to look suspicious around now, little lines of doubt forming around her hauntingly blue eyes. So, in the spur of the moment, Lupin blurted out, 'Snape. I work for Snape.'

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Lupin mentally slapped himself on the forehead.

We are so dead.

Shut up, Sirius. You're not helping.

'What would Snape want to investigate?'

'...' Lupin blinked.

Why should I help? You seem to be doing pretty good on your own.

And then, in the light of having nothing else to say, Lupin said, 'You.'

'I don't understand,' Libitina said again.

'You,' Lupin repeated. Then, feeling as though he'd better do the thing properly, he added, 'He's in love with you.'

Half a mile away, Sirius fell off his seat in the café. Lupin prepared to run.

But Libitina's eyes came alight. 'He's ... in love with me?' she repeated as if she couldn't quite believe it. To be honest, Lupin couldn't blame her.

'Err ... that's right.'

'Oh.' She looked very touched. 'Oh.' She sank down into a chair.

'He's obsessed with you,' Lupin explained. 'He's got enough pictures of you in house to cover one wall - no, wait, two walls. Every time we meet, he raves on and on about you ... on and on and on ...'

'We'll get engaged immediately!' she gushed, her hands coming together in a gesture of pure delight.

'No!' he said loudly. 'No, no, no - please don't do that. Don't tell Snape anything.'

'Of course I will,' Libitina replied indignantly. 'And then we can honeymoon in Majorca-'

'You can't!' Lupin grabbed her arm to get his point across. She glared at him, her face changing from a mask of ecstasy to that of wrath in an instant. He hesitated, 'I mean, please don't.'

'Why not?'

'Ehh ... It's one of his life long secrets. I'm not even supposed to know - I was just supposed to find out as I could about you. He might fire me if he finds out - and then my poor, little, helpless children at home will have nothing-'

Don't push it, Sirius warned, precariously close to falling off his chair again after just righting himself.

'- just don't tell him, please,' Lupin finished. 'You can't let him know that you know what he thinks you don't know ... you know?'

If Libitina was confused, she didn't show it. 'I suppose,' she said reluctantly.

'Snape's really a very shallow - I mean, lonely person,' Lupin explained. 'He's also very shy. If you spring a marriage proposal on him, he might be so shocked that he might never want to see you again. And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?'

If you love him, Sirius prompted.

'If you love him ...' Lupin waited for the rest of the sentence, but none came. 'If you ... really love him ... then you just keep on loving him.'

And give him head whenever he wants ...

'And give him he-' Lupin stopped abruptly. Sirius fell off his chair for the third time in an hour. '-help ... yes ... give him help whenever he needs it. 'Be a ... be a beacon, in his sad and lonely life. Okay?'

Overcome with emotion, Libitina nodded. She stood up, pecked a startled Lupin on the cheek with a kiss, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Did I detect a hint of humanity in one of Voldemort's hench - henchwomen? Sirius choked out.

Shut up, Lupin growled. He looked at his hands. They were trembling. Half the most clever ideas were yours. Like ... oh, say ... "give him head".

"Be a beacon", Sirius shot back.

Lupin returned to the desk and gathered the box up. As he placed it carefully in his bag, he had an overwhelming sensation that he had missed something. Soon, though, the relief of having actually pulled off the impossible overcame the weird feeling.

'I think we got away with that,' he muttered to himself, climbing out the window and out of sight, all the while thinking, "Boy is Snape in for a surprise when he comes back ..."

---

Ron stared out of the window next to his bed. As far as he could tell, all the other boys in his dormitory were asleep. For some reason, he was awake - he wasn't even tired.

The velvet sky was scattered with a cascade of silver stars. The crescent moon was luminescent and the silhouettes of the trees were peaceful. So what was keeping him awake?

Something gleamed in the sky. Ron sat up straight, causing his blankets to fall off him. He stared intently out of his window, trying to catch a glimpse of what had shocked him. One of the stars had glowed green - he'd been sure of it. Not blue, or white, or even red. It was green - and stars were never green.

There it was. Ron could see it twinkling down on him mockingly. But it didn't seem to be doing anything unusual.

He lay down again and pulled the blankets back over him, not taking his eyes off the strange star.

And he shivered.