Mysteries

Chapter Two Harry Arrives

Harry spent the days leading up to his sixteenth birthday studying. When he wasn't pruning the hedges, dusting the lounge or painting the garden bench, he was owling Hermione. She was the only one he knew that would have access to books from the wizarding world. He'd received letters from Remus and Ron, even Mad-Eye Moody. Dumbledore had not written but sent comments to him through others.

Harry sat all the letters aside, composing a letter for each one of them in return, but not sending them. He had decided almost on the night of his birthday that he was going to accept Peabody's offer. Now all he had to do was settle his affairs, which included sending off the letters. Borrowing Hermione's owl, which had arrived with a birthday present, Ron's owl Pig and several others, he'd dispatched the single letters to their recipients. He watched as Hedwig took flight with the one meant for Remus.

Lupin had written to let him know that he was expected to join him in an solicitor's office for the reading of Sirius' will. Harry felt the familiar rush of pain again as he studied Remus' neat, precise handwriting. There were many things he wished for, but something willed to him from his godfather, was one of the last. He sat the letter aside. He knew that he would be gone by the time Hedwig delivered his response.

The others, Hermione and Ron, were going to be worried and hurt by what he told them he intended to do. He'd found out from his reading that Humphrey Samson Raleigh Peabody had been a teacher at Hogwarts at the same time his parents were students. Hermione had managed to dig out an old book with the history of the teachers and students.

Harry looked around him at the pile of books gathered at his feet. Over the course of the month Hermione had sent him quite a collection, always with an attached letter.

Dear Harry,

Here are two of the books that you asked for and I've sent a third that might be helpful. I wish you could tell me what it is you're looking for and I might be able to help. Truthfully, these books are all very 'dark' if you take my meaning and that worries me. I hope to see you soon. I don't think it's safe at Ron's and the family is moving temporarily to a new place. We'll let you know the location, because I'll be joining them soon. I want you to know I'm completely well and looking forward to relaxing and having a little fun this summer. I hope you are healing as well. Love Hermione

Harry knew what she meant, knew that she was hoping he'd gotten over his grief. He tucked her letter along with the others into a small satchel he was packing. He gathered his school things and packed them neatly in his trunk and shoved it under the bed. If, indeed, he returned to Hogwarts in the Fall, he would come back for it, he decided. Otherwise, it held the sum total of all of his personal belongings and he hoped that the Dursleys would be willing to follow the instructions he'd left in the note on top. He stared at the envelope stuck to the trunk lid, just under the Hogwarts insignia. He touched it one more time. It left him feeling very alone in the world.

At precisely midnight, he crept down the stairs and out the front door to the empty street. He was dressed in muggle clothing but carried his robes tucked into the satchel and his Firebolt in the other hand.

He stared at the stars and the clear night sky. The sun was going down much later in the summer night and there was still a tint of light near the horizon. He stopped to smell the cut grass and the scent of the roses that he had planted for his aunt several years before. Harry didn't look back at the house because it didn't feel like he was leaving his home. For the first time he felt that he didn't have a place he could really call home.

A shadow moved across the moon and Harry touched his wand with his wrist on the hand holding his Firebolt. It was tucked into belt and he never let his eyes leave the object, knowing that he could drop his broomstick and grab his wand very quickly.

It was Peabody. He drifted in slowly as if he were enjoying the evening air and was just dropping in by accident. "Hello there, dear boy!" he said, with an amused expression on his face.

"Shhh!" Harry said, startled at the loudness of the sound. "You'll wake them all if you aren't quiet." He wanted to leave without Uncle Vernon leaning out of the upstairs window bellowing at him and waking the entire neighborhood. He also wasn't sure that Mrs. Fig or Mundungus Fletcher or some other person wasn't watching, including spies for Voldemort.

"Oh! Yes!" Peabody said, nodded and touched a finger to his lips. "Alright then. You ready? Made your mind up?" Harry nodded. "Good, good." He stood silently and stared at the sky. Harry was once again reminded of the centaurs. "I think we're ready. Give it a moment. Alright, now."

"What were you doing just then?" Harry asked stepping over his broom handle and attaching his satchel to it with a length of twine.

"Oh! I'm a Forecaster, Harry. I trust you know what that is? Your part muggle after all. I think they call them Precogs," Peabody said, still louder than Harry would have wished. "I was just looking ahead that's all. To see if it's safe to travel and all that." Peabody was lifting off and not looking back.

Harry lifted off and followed easily. He'd learned from the previous year that it could get cold flying high so he'd worn a heavy jumper. This time he found it comfortable and beautiful. The street lights looked like a string of glittering yellow gems lined up in perfect rows. He thought about what Peabody told him as he studied the landscape. He read everything that he could find that had the Professor's name in it and nothing had said that he was a Forecaster.

Harry knew what a Forecaster meant from being in his Divination classes with Professor Trelawney. Someone who was a Forecaster could determine what was going to happen in the future. Something that was not accepted by muggles but was almost commonplace in the wizarding world. However, he also knew that not every witch or wizard was adept at making all the mental calculations necessary to predict the future. It was always a matter of taking all the possible events and occurrences of an event and coming up with them most viable choice.

Harry also had more faith and trust in Forecaster then he did in predictions. Although very similar, he knew that Forecasting was like Arithmancy; it could be studied and taught. Prediction could be faked and Trelawney was a perfect example of a fraud. Harry shook his head. He forced the little voice in his head into silence, the one that continued to try and intrude, the one that argued that Trelawney wasn't a total fraud. After all, it said, she had made two accurate predictions.

He forced himself to focus on Peabody. A Forecaster could only predict, with any accuracy, the events that could occur within a twenty-four hour time frame. Harry had never known one, but had read about them and the man that flew ahead of him seemed to be one of the few that existed in the world. Things made more sense now, he thought. The man kept abreast of the events going on the world because he had to use them in his calculations.

"Professor?" Harry flew up beside the man who was leaning into the wind, tears springing from his eyes from the wind and cold.

"What is it Harry?" Peabody slowed and drew his broom closer. "We can't tarry, dear boy. We have seconds to spare, minutes at the most and then the course of events closes in. Voldemort's people will arrive at Little Whining on our heels and they'll be up looking for us."

Harry's mouth opened and he looked back over his shoulder. Wrenching back around he shouted at Peabody, "Will they hurt my aunt and uncle?" He was thinking of the Dementors in the alley from the year before. He cared nothing for his family, but knew he couldn't live with himself if they faced those dreaded horrors unprotected.

Peabody shook his head. "They'll know right away you're gone. But they're uncanny about finding a trail. Keep up lad, we're not far away. Once we get to my home then we'll be well-protected. You're doing fine. Didn't know you were such a good flyer!" he yelled and sped up, leaving Harry flying behind just at his tail.

They arrived on a street in a very old part of London. Harry recognized the landscape and certain parts of the city long before Peabody motioned him over. The older man guided him into an alley darkened with the grime of centuries. The man moved quickly in the dark and Harry followed by using his sense of touch. He was almost blind in the semi-darkness.

They went through a door in the alley and climbed stairs, several levels of stairs, until they came to the top of the building. He listened as Peabody mumbled a password and the door sprang open.

"Stay here lad and I'll light everything up," Peabody said, touching his arm and then left him in total darkness. In seconds, lights blazed in the cavernous room. From his viewpoint, Harry thought that the rooms probably extended over the total length of the entire top of a rather large building.

He stepped slowly from the foyer into the living area. The floors were hardwood, polished to a gleam and covered in areas with rich woven carpets and rugs. The area was divided into areas, that resembled a library, a lounge, a small kitchen and dining area. There were partitions that appeared to wall off areas for bedrooms.

"Make yourself at home, Harry," Peabody's voice echoed from a long ways away, near the end of the loft on the far side.

Harry wandered to the ten arched, brick windows that looked down on the streets below. There was nothing interesting at this hour to draw his attention. Instead, he peered at the night sky and wondered if they truly were safe. He turned when he heard footsteps coming from across the dark part of the loft.

Peabody stopped beside him and glanced out. "Pretty view isn't it? Better during the day. You see we're right on Diagon Alley, near Gringott's. But we can't see it. The portal is on that end of the building," he said and nodded towards the darkened end. "The only entrance is through Knockturn Alley though, or muggle London, the way we've come." Peabody energetically motioned Harry away from the window. "We'll look it all over in the morning. Tonight it's time we get you settled in."

Harry followed him through the maze of partitions and partial walls, all heavily paneled and lit with blazing candelabras.

"I don't use these areas very much," Peabody said as he guided Harry down the hall. "Blackmoore tidies up and keeps things neat and all. He'll help you out if you need anything. He's an excellent cook though, just excellent." Peabody stopped and turned around in the hallway, mimicking his movement from the night Harry met him, as if he were lost in his own home. "Oh here 'tis," he said opening a door.

They ended up in a room of regal proportions. There was a four poster bed, draped in heavy burgundy drapery. A small fire burned in a conical fireplace in the corner and there were several chairs that formed an comfortable seating area.

"This is your room. I hope you'll find it comfortable," Peabody said. " Blackmoore is usually out of an evening and you'll meet him in the morning. So I'll have to do if there is anything you need," Peabody said smiling.

Harry felt a little embarrassed at dropping the sum total of his belongings in a small knapsack on the bed. He noticed that this room also had a large arched window looking out on the night sky. "Professor are you sure we're safe here?"

"What's got you into calling me Professor, boy? Haven't been one for years," Peabody said slowly. "It's alright to call me Peabody as I've said or whatever you like. Some call me Rolly. By now I'm sure you've done your homework and checked me out." His smile grew wider as he watched Harry blush. " Knew you would. Makes sense that you're trust would diminish and you'd check out a stranger. Now off to bed. We'll talk in the morning. Voldemort isn't going to find you here."

Harry nodded and sat on the bed.

"We'll have a long talk over breakfast," Peabody nodded and left the room pulling the door closed.

Harry stood and listened to the footsteps pad away and then went over and tried the knob. He wanted to make sure that he had not become a prisoner. When he turned it, the door eased open soundlessly and he poked his head into the hallway. The place was silent.