Harry Potter and the Simulacrum Seal

Chapter Twelve: In the Bag

Before the end of the three days leading up to the meeting with Kitty York - which Harry had not yet entirely decided to attend, though he was leaning towards doing so against all of Ron's protestations - Remus and Moody announced their intentions to begin Harry's training regimen. Harry was relieved to have something to occupy himself with aside from the as-yet-fruitless search for R.A.B., which even Hermione was beginning to despair of ever ending conclusively. They had not found any R.A.B. with the slightest likelihood of ties to Voldemort or even Horcruxes generally, and with Kingsley dead and Tonks too likely to ask questions, it would be even more difficult to obtain Ministry information.

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione filed in to the large basement of Grimmauld Place. Once filled with boxes, furniture, and artefacts stored by the Black clan, it was now empty but for the pervasive, nostril-clogging must and a small table upon which was set three tall crystals arranged in a circle, each facing one of three chairs.

'Do you suppose we should invite Neville too?' Hermione asked upon seeing the crystals.

'The three of you are enough,' said Moody grumpily. Hermione looked away, recalling that she and Ron weren't entirely welcome.

'Actually, I've already invited him to join in,' Remus interjected. 'But he's gone to visit his parents today since he didn't do so on his birthday. Today's lesson is self-contained, so he should be able to attend the next lesson without having to catch up.'

Moody glared, but said nothing more on the subject. 'Starting off a little slow, if you ask me. We could have done this before Potter came of age. Better to practice duelling.'

'This is a necessary skill for duelling,' argued Remus calmly, 'and it will help us to determine their level of focus, which is important for casting non-verbal spells--'

'We learned those last year,' Hermione interrupted.

'Yes,' Remus acknowledged patiently, 'but you haven't learned to disguise them from an opponent who can read your intentions through Legilimency. Without that ability, non-verbal casting is no more useful than the verbal sort - sometimes even less so since you will be focusing more on the spell you are going to cast, making it easier for a Legilimens to read you.'

Remus' gaze was, seemingly without thought, drawn to Harry, and Harry knew that Remus must be thinking about Voldemort. Or maybe Snape, thought Harry. His shoulders straightened, and he hurried past the others to take a spot at the table. He pulled the chair out with more force than was necessary and sat down. The thought of Snape put Harry in an awful mood.

'So is this like Occlumency then?' Hermione asked as she sat lightly upon the seat to Harry's right.

Harry stiffened at the word. Remus sensed this and, addressing Harry, said, 'Think of it more like...like focusing on the Snitch during a game of Quidditch. While you're playing, you need to block out every distraction and focus on finding that little golden ball. So consider this room the Quidditch field, and consider this,' Remus said, pointing to a tiny bluish fissure in the crystal, 'to be the Snitch. Keep your mind on that, and only on that. Try to get closer to it with the force of your mind.'

Hermione, already looking into the crystal, didn't seem to have noticed that the speech had been for Harry's benefit, for she said, 'That sort of thinking is what gets a Seeker hit by a Bludger, isn't it? They ought to be aware of the entire field.'

'Quite right,' Moody put in.

Remus forced a smile. 'Just think of it that way for now, Harry.'

Hermione turned and, realizing her mistake, gave Lupin a cringing look of apology. He smiled back at her. 'Now, everyone look into their crystals. Try to find a spot or crack to focus your attention on, and let yourselves drift into it. Stay focused on that for as long as possible. When your concentration is broken, look up at me; then we'll be able to gauge how best to direct you in later...concentration lessons.'

Harry turned his attention to where Remus had directed him to. Focus on the crystal, focus on the crystal...he told himself. No! I can't focus on the crystal if I'm talking to myself, can I? I have to just do it... I'm so bloody awful at Occlumency... And Harry knew, despite Remus' dodging, that this was Occlumency training, no matter how basic.

Harry glanced briefly at Hermione, who was already focused in - or out, depending on how one looked at it - on her crystal, and sighed softly to himself. Pressing his lips together determinedly, he dropped his head into his hand and forcefully glared into his own crystal again.

Eventually, after startling himself out of it several times, Harry felt himself fade into something like a trance. He knew he had succeeded when he "woke up" blinking rapidly, his head feeling as though it were as musty as the room itself.

He grinned up at Remus, who grinned back at him, but then Harry looked to his right, where Hermione still sat, staring blankly, and to his left, where Ron was in a similar condition. His face fell.

Remus tiptoed over and leaned down until he was at Harry's level. 'Don't be discouraged,' he whispered softly. 'I know you'll get it. That was better than my first try, you know. I used to be awful at Occlumency.' Harry tried to look encouraged, but the fact was that he'd been trained in Occlumency by Snape already, and that he knew he ought to be better at it than a raw beginner.

At that moment, Ron looked up, seeming as surprised by himself as Harry had been when he had awoken. The two of them waited a few minutes more for Hermione until Moody, pacing on a carpeted patch of floor in the corner, finally lost his temper. 'All right, it's time for my lesson now!' he roared out loudly.

Hermione jumped and nearly fell off her chair, looking around confusedly as though having forgotten where she was.

***

'Ow,' said Ron, holding an ice pack to his lower back. 'Ow, ow...'

'I liked Lupin's lesson better,' Hermione agreed, her face pained as she slowly sat down on the couch in the living room.

Harry was the most damaged of the three, having drawn the most of Moody's attention, but so long as he didn't have to be carried off by a stretcher, he didn't think there was anything he could like less than more Occlumency lessons. He knew they were necessary, but that didn't mean he had to like them. 'I think we learned a lot from Mad-Eye.'

Ron snorted. 'Yeah - like always try to have duels on soft ground.' His head lolled back in relief as he relaxed his sore muscles. 'It's not just his eye that's mad, old Moody.'

'Remus said that they're going to make us official members of the Order of the Phoenix tonight,' Harry offered encouragingly, 'and Neville too.'

'They'd better not expect us to stand,' replied Ron, vitriol in his tone. 'I miss the old Mad-Eye Moody. You know, the one who was a Death Eater? I think he was less of a threat.'

'Ron...' Hermione scolded, though with much less fervour than usual. '...oh, forget it. You're right. He's insane.'

Insane I can handle, thought Harry. The Occlumency lesson had damaged his confidence; at least while Moody was tossing them around, Harry had always gotten back up. But how much would that matter against Voldemort?

***

After Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville's induction, which was no more official than the members of the Order who could spare the time sitting around a table and toasting them (Harry had been looking forward to something like those junior detective club rings Dudley had scooped out of cereal boxes when they were younger), those who didn't have pressing business elsewhere stayed a while to chat. It was a welcome change from the sad atmosphere of the house ever since the attack on Mr Weasley, but Harry found himself sitting apart, his mind still turning over the consequences of his total ineptitude at Occlumency.

Was Occlumency the key to defeating Voldemort? Dumbledore had said that love was the power Harry had that Voldemort didn't, but it seemed pretty useless when Voldemort could reduce him to a gibbering mess without even being in the same room, and when Snape could counter every spell before they even left Harry's lips. And then Ginny walked by, her face glum, and Harry felt guilty over his own guilt; what right did he have to be upset when the Weasleys still managed to get by?

And then there was the matter of Kitty York's message. Was Harry going to go, or wasn't he? What if it was a trap? He could just imagine Hermione's, Remus', and everyone else's expressions of disappointment if he bollixed everything yet again by making the same mistake he had by going into the Department of Mysteries. Sure, this time he wouldn't be bringing anyone else with him to get hurt, but he was the supposed Chosen One, so if he got himself into trouble, it would bring the whole Order into it when they obviously had better things to do than clean up Harry's messes all the time...

Tangled up in his own feelings, Harry didn't notice Remus sit down beside him until he felt a hand fall onto his shoulder. Then he looked up, and looked around, and noticed that everyone's attention was on him, even if they were only glancing at him discreetly. Putting on a brave face, Harry smiled as much as he could, showing everyone he was fine, and finally managed to meet Remus' eyes.

'I'm fine, Remus, really,' Harry assured him. 'I'm just a little glum, is all. Nothing to worry about.'

Remus did not look convinced. 'I take it this is about how today's lesson went?'

Harry shrugged. 'Er, partially.'

'Want to talk about it in the kitchen?'

'Okay.'

Down they went to the kitchen. Remus shut the door behind them. 'I must say, it's been a tiring day. I hope you got medical treatment for the way Moody manhandled you?'

'Yeah. Mrs Weasley found us and forced some on us.' Harry couldn't help but smile a little as he recalled the way Mrs Weasley had acted as she'd tended to them, alternately muttering and shouting about Moody's abuse. 'She was pretty upset.'

'I think he's completely forgotten how to teach anyone anything. He certainly never did that to James.'

Harry had a feeling that Remus dropped his father's name on purpose, but nevertheless, his attention was riveted. 'Moody taught my father?'

'For one semester, yes.' Remus sat down and gestured for Harry to do the same. 'I can't recall what the exact course was. It was part of Auror training.'

Harry's eyes lit up in excitement. Why hadn't anyone ever told him that his father was an Auror?

He asked Remus that exact question. Remus paused before saying, 'Most people don't make it through Auror training. It takes three gruelling years. Back then almost every boy in Gryffindor wanted to be an Auror to battle against Death Eaters.' Wistful of his youth, Remus continued, 'We all fantasized about standing off against Dementors to save attractive young damsels in distress, who would naturally want to reward us properly after our daring deeds.

'But once those who were really set on that fantasy got into training, they realized that they weren't going to become great battle heroes overnight. Your father was one of those who didn't have the patience for it. He dropped out after a year.'

Ruefully, Remus added, 'At least he lasted one semester longer than Sirius...poor Sirius. If anyone ever bought into the fantasy, it was him.'

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, both remembering Sirius. 'But your father was, after all, very wealthy, so it wasn't as though he needed the employment - not to mention that his parents were dead set against the idea of their dear James putting himself in the line of fire, and they were more than happy to support him in leading a life of leisure,' continued Remus. 'He devoted his time after dropping out of Auror training to the Order and Lily. I think he was considering going back into training shortly after his parents died, but then Lily became pregnant with you, and all thoughts of becoming an Auror went right out the window.'

'Why are you telling me all this now?' Harry asked. 'Not that I'm complaining...I just don't know why we didn't talk like this about my dad before.'

Remus became very interested in tracing the grain of the wooden table in the kitchen. 'I supposed that you might be ashamed of your father for not doing anything productive. I didn't want you to think of him that way. He loved you very much, and considered being your father to be the most important job possible.'

'But he was part of the Order, right?' argued Harry. 'That's certainly productive. And...' Harry trailed off, took a great gulp of air, and decided to finally chance asking a question related to the Prophecy. 'My dad faced Voldemort, didn't he? A...a few times?'

Remus stared at Harry as though he'd said something stupendous. Then, frowning, he asked, 'Who on earth told you about that?'

'Er...Dumbledore,' Harry replied. It was partly true, after all, since Dumbledore was the one who had shown him the prophecy. And suddenly, realizing that Voldemort already knew the prophecy anyway, he decided to tell Remus the prophecy in full. He was, after all, a friend, and he was in a better position to help Harry understand it than anyone else short of Voldemort himself.

Remus listened very attentively as Harry told him what the prophecy stated. When Harry asked again about James' supposed defiance, Remus said, slowly and carefully, 'I don't recall the particulars of three times, but considering all that James did for the Order, it's not too surprising. Harry, why didn't you tell me this earlier?'

'Dumbledore didn't think I should talk too much about it, but seeing as Voldemort knows now anyway--'

'He knows?!'

'He found out about it when he trapped me in the mindscape set up inside Mr Weasley after...you know. He used Legilimency on me to find out all sorts of things.' Harry looked down, shamefaced, gripping the edges of his seat tightly. 'That's why I really need to learn Occlumency, except I can't! I'm completely useless at it, and because of that Voldemort knows everything he wants to!'

Remus grabbed Harry's shoulders and looked him in the eye, and Harry was struck by how small Remus seemed. He and Harry were about the same height, but Remus seemed old, gray, and so tired. Harry wondered when the last full moon had been, and when the next one would be. 'Harry, you will learn Occlumency, and you can't feel guilt about having been bested by a powerful wizard several times your own age! Albus...'

Remus trailed off, looked away, and then continued, 'Albus was very proud of you. He knew you would have trouble with Occlumency, though...he said it wouldn't be necessary in a world full of people like you...he was going to wait until this year to teach you, but...' Remus frowned. 'That's what I haven't managed to understand. He spent part of last year...a good part of it...teaching me Occlumency. It's as though he knew...'

A knock sounded on the door, startling them both. It opened, and Ron looked in, moving awkwardly into the room. 'Er, if you're finished...'

'Yes, we're done.' Remus stood up and smiled down at Harry, and Harry could feel Dumbledore's own confidence seeping through. 'Just remember, Harry, that Dumbledore had faith in you.'

***

The sun was still bleeding its way into the sky when Harry Potter popped in out of thin air outside a tanned brick pub near the centre of Godric's Hollow. The sound of tiny birds chirping as they flew from tree to flush summer tree filled the early morning air with music. Harry was the only person on the street except for an old woman several blocks down the lane.

She craned her neck and squinted, as though believing the stranger to be a figment of her imagination, and Harry waved and smiled at her. She withdrew, waved back feebly, and went on her way - to where, Harry couldn't imagine.

Godric's Hollow was a sleepy village if ever there was one. It had one main street with a small church on one side, a small grocer on the other, and the local pub (which also served as a bed and breakfast to the village's few visitors) in between. Harry looked down at the crinkled, folded old postcard in his hands and back up at the building.

The red sign with gold lettering hanging from the building had not changed, nor had anything else on the building's exterior. The only change was the green in the leaves of the trees. The postcard's picture had been taken in the fall; the leaves in the picture were eternally gliding to the ground and down to the roof of the old two-storey building.

Harry made the short walk to the church, all the while observing the village closely. Small, neat rows of cottages lined the side streets, each nearly identical to the one beside it. Only four out of every five driveways had a car. He had been told that Godric's Hollow had one of the largest concentrations of wizarding folk outside of Hogsmeade, but it was clear that the wizards and witches who lived there knew how to keep themselves unnoticed by Muggles. The only sign of wizarding life that Harry could find from his vantage point was a Puddlemere United flag flapping from a flagpole in one front yard.

The graveyard was set beside the church. It was barely wider than the property of the church itself, but stretched on far beyond it. Some of the gravestones were so old that the names upon them could no longer be read; Harry walked quickly past these and went behind the church to find the section where his parents were buried. He vaguely recognized several wizarding names scattered amongst the Muggles, and wondered what Muggle visitors must think of a name like 'Glinda Flobberwort' when they passed by.

Harry took a deep breath and continued his search. He had been intending to visit his parents' graves some time in the summer; his meeting with Kitty York that day gave him the chance to do so. The note hadn't mentioned the time of their meeting or the exact place, so Harry intended to stay in the village until he came across her.

Then, his chest in knots, Harry found their grave.

In Loving Memory of

James Potter

b. January 28^th, 1959; d. October 31^st, 1981

and Lily Potter

b. March 20^th, 1959; d. October 31^st, 1981

Do not mourn our early passing

For now our lives beyond death start

We travel through the veil of death

With love and peace in both our hearts

Harry felt foolish for not having brought flowers. What sort of son was he, anyway? 'Hi Mum. Hi Dad,' he said, his voice wavering.

Now that he was standing there, what else was there to say? Harry had thought that he would feel closer to his parents here, but he felt more uncomfortable than anything else. He shifted from foot to foot, his hands in his pockets, staring down at the grass upon his parents' grave.

His head snapped to the side upon hearing soft footsteps approaching, and he squinted at a woman in the graveyard through the bright light of the morning sun. She was all in black from her blazer to her high heels. She wore black sunglasses as well, and was carrying a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed, blooming red roses in her arms. She was too distracted by reading gravestones to notice Harry's presence, even as she walked directly toward him.

When she was only a couple of metres away the woman finally looked up; she was so startled upon noticing Harry that she dropped her flowers, and Harry moved immediately to help her pick them up. The woman, too, bent over to collect the flowers, and it was only then that Harry got a good enough look at her face to realize that she was the person he was there to meet.

The two froze in recognition of each other. Then, slowly, the woman bent down far enough to collect her flowers, and stood back up again. By that time Harry's hand was inside the pocket of his jeans grasping his wand, but he didn't yet pull it out since the woman's arms were too full with flowers for her to hold a wand properly anyway.

Kitty York was tall for a woman, almost as tall as Harry, and with a bony figure like Aunt Petunia's. 'Oh my, I'm so sorry,' she began, 'I didn't realize you would be out here so early! But of course you would be, you're their son after all, and I'm ever so sorry for interrupting! It's my fault after all, I completely forgot to specify the time - I'm completely hopeless at this clandestine meeting thing, except I think I'm supposed to be wearing black like this...' With her large lips, doused in deep red lipstick matching the roses, opened wide and the way in which her neck flew forward as she spoke, it looked as though she were trying to capture and gulp down her own words.

Harry took his hand off his wand; this chatty woman didn't seem like she posed any sort of threat. 'It's nice to meet you, Ms. York,' said Harry, forcing a smile.

'Oh, you're so polite! Just like Lily! I knew Lily, you know - that's why I'm here, after all. I'm really very sorry for interrupting--'

'It's no trouble at all,' Harry assured her. He moved to the side to make way for her and said, 'Er, are those flowers for my parents, or...?' Harry didn't know what else they could be for.

'Oh! No! They're for you! I'm sure that sounds silly - boys don't like flowers' - she laughed uncomfortably - 'but I mean that they're not really flowers, you see! Here!'

Kitty York dropped the flowers in front of Harry, and he caught them on their way down. 'Just hold them like that, and...' She took out her wand, and before Harry could make any sound of alarm, she tapped it on the flowers.

Harry grunted as his arms were forced to immediately adapt to carrying a much heavier and larger object than a bouquet of flowers. The flowers had transformed into a large leather travel satchel; Harry shifted the weight to one arm and grabbed the handle on top with the other, moving to carry it at his side.

'Oh, sorry!' said Kitty York again, noticing his discomfort. 'I should have warned you first!'

'Yeah,' Harry agreed. Harry watched as Kitty took off her sunglasses and tapped them with her wand to make them about the size of a dinner mint, and then dropped them into the small breast pocket of her blazer. She then held out her hand; Harry saw the kind expression in her eyes and shook her hand gently.

Immediately afterwards Kitty started to look around anxiously, her body strung taut with nervousness. 'I'm sorry that I can't stay very long to speak with you, but I'm being followed, you see - by the Ministry, I think, or maybe something worse. That bag you're holding belonged to your mum. I'm sure it has something important in it, but I've never been able to open it. I'm only here now because I think she would want you to have it now that you're all grown up - she considered it very important.' Harry's grasp on the satchel tightened. 'And whatever it is, someone else wants it too, and now that I'm back in Britain with it, they've been trying to take it off my hands before I could get to you.'

Kitty's hands grabbed each other and squeezed in fright. 'Oh, I just know they're coming! I've really got to go!'

'Wait!' said Harry. He grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. She gave him a forlorn look, and Harry opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a single question to ask, even though knew he had so many.

Just as Kitty pulled herself out of Harry's grip, they heard the sounds of several consecutive Apparitions, like the popping of popcorn. The figures appeared in the distance at the back of the church; as soon as one Apparated in, he ran towards them, and was followed by another, and another. Harry whipped out his wand just as the first yelled, 'Freeze!' Kitty York stood paralyzed in fright.

Harry turned to run but saw others Apparating in by a tall tree, and still more running in through the gate to the cemetery. A pair of passers-by were staring and pointing, but these wizards didn't seem to care.

Harry grabbed Kitty's shoulder tightly, and she turned to stare at him, wide-eyed, as he focused his mind on Grimmauld Place and prepared to Apparate.

'Expelliarmus!' A beam of light flew towards Harry.

'Protego!' Harry managed to block the spell, but his Apparition was interrupted. They were in too close now for him to Apparate away without being disarmed first. Several other attempts to disarm Harry were made as the wizards - there looked to be about fifteen of them in all, five from each Apparition point - approached, but Harry blocked them all easily. He kept waiting to dodge an Unforgivable Curse, or to push Kitty out of the way of one, but only a few low-level spells were fired, and only at Harry. Kitty was clutching at his arm tightly now, making no move for her own wand.

As they closed around Harry and Kitty in a circle, Harry noticed that they weren't wearing masks. They're not Death Eaters, he realized, but then who are they?

The one who had Apparated first seemed to be the leader, for he threw off his hood. He was a bald man, at least in his fifties, with a long face and a cold, tight-lipped expression. 'Hand over the satchel, Mr Potter.' The man held out one hand while keeping his wand trained on Harry with the other. 'It is stolen Ministry of Magic property.'

'Who are you, then?' asked Harry, trying to buy time.

'That is not your concern,' said another man in the crowd.

The old man waved his hand to silence the voice, and then replied slowly, 'I am employed at the Department of Mysteries, as are several others here. The rest are from Magical Law Enforcement, and they have been authorized to arrest you and Ms York if they must. If you hand over the satchel without resisting, you may both go on your way, and all the outstanding charges against you, Ms York' - he glanced at her with a sneer playing on his lips, but immediately refocused his attention onto Harry - 'will be drop--'

Startlingly, the man's face froze mid-word, his eyes open wide in surprise. Then he began tipping forward, and the two others beside him moved to catch him, but they were immediately frozen themselves. The others looked behind them in alarm, but too late; one by one, each fell like an unsupported plank of wood onto the ground.

'It's all right,' Harry assured Kitty, whose nails were digging into his arm. 'They're with me.' She looked around, and Harry added, 'They've cast an Invisibility Charm. Er, I know you said to come alone, but that seemed sort of stupid.'

Harry had told Remus everything the day before. Keeping information about the Horcruxes secret still made sense - there was no need to give Voldemort any way of knowing how well (or badly) Harry was doing in his search if Voldemort managed to capture an Order member, not to mention that there had been a spy in the Order before - but there wasn't any reason to believe that Kitty York had anything to do with the Horcruxes. He had asked Remus to send a hidden guard with him so that he could still meet with her without having to worry about an ambush.

And it was lucky that Remus had. 'The spells will wear off any minute. You two, get out of here,' said Remus' voice from close behind Harry. Immediately Harry grabbed Kitty's arm as he had before and Apparated away.

They arrived on the street in front of Grimmauld Place. Harry, still holding Kitty by the arm, began to drag them both to the house. But Kitty refused to budge; Harry turned to her and raised an eyebrow questioningly, about to explain that they were going to hide.

'Where are we going?' Kitty York asked, sounding puzzled.

'Into the house,' said Harry. 'We'll be safe there.'

'Which one?'

'N -' Harry started choking on his words and coughed instead of saying Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Then he realized his mistake: Kitty York couldn't see number twelve, Grimmauld Place. And Harry wasn't the Secret-Keeper, so he couldn't tell her. He felt foolish for not having asked Remus when he'd had the chance.

His shoulder slumped. 'Er, I can't take you in. There's a Fidelius Charm on the place.'

Kitty smiled softly. She reached into her breast pocket for her sunglasses, then into another pocket for her wand. She tapped the sunglasses with her wand, and they returned to their normal size. As she did so, she said, 'That's okay, Harry. I'll see you some other time.'

Before Harry could ask when, she Apparated away.

Harry sighed and walked toward the door. The heavy satchel of his mother's old things weighed him down, causing his shoulders to slump lazily to one side. Just as one of his feet landed on the old stone steps, another loud pop came from behind him.

Hopefully, Harry turned slightly around so that he could see behind him. 'Ms. York?' he started to say. Before her name was fully out of his mouth, Harry's stomach plummeted deep into his belly, and his heart simultaneously pumped fury into his veins. His face fell in disbelief, and he clutched his wand tightly.

'Hand over the bag, Potter,' said his old professor in the soft, cold voice of authority he had used before to instantly silence a class.

Severus Snape had returned to Grimmauld Place.