Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

Chapter 3 - Speak, Friend

They spent most of the next day together, talking, or in Harry's case, awkwardly not talking. Ron spent a good portion of his time searching for Bill's elusive treasure trove, and members of the order came and went as they had for the last month. Harry found himself reflecting on how quickly the past four weeks had gone by. This had been the shortest summer with the Dursleys yet. So many emotions had overloaded his mind that he really didn't know what to think, even now. He was just happy that his friends were good friends.

Harry's birthday elicited visits from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, and Bill, Hermione, and Remus. Additionally, Harry received packages from Neville Longbottom, Tonks, and Professor Dumbledore. There was a tremendous cake, and a feast fit for Hogwarts. They all gathered in the formally dank parlor, which was now quite nicely equipped for any number of things. It reminded Harry of the Room of Requirement, when they had been running DA.

The first thing that Harry opened was a letter from Hagrid, which said that his gift wasn't ready yet, but that Hagrid hoped to have it by the time Harry arrived at Hogwarts. Harry felt that as much as Hagrid had done for him, he'd never need a present ever again, but over the last five years he'd learned how much of a point of pride giving a heart-felt gift was.

Next was the package from Neville, who couldn't be there but wished Harry a happy birthday nonetheless. In the box, there was a small jar and a note:

Harry,

Thank you for the Ghost Plant! It's fantastic! I had to read up a bit on it to figure out what it did, but there are certainly some amazing possibilities. I can't try any until school, obviously, but I'm waiting on some information from my friend Consera in Spain. She knows quite a bit about all kinds of plants and herbs, and a lot of the work that's been done with Ghost Plants is either Mexican or brought over from the Aztecs by Spaniards, so she can help me find it.

If you eat one ounce of this every week, it should help your eyesight, especially at night. It should taste pretty good; I've tried it myself, and I've eaten worse things on purpose. If you take a month's dosage at once, it should do amazing things to for your vision, but it will only last a few minutes. I don't know how well it will work, so I only made enough to last you until school starts. If it works, I can show you how to make more when we get back to Hogwarts. Don't worry about it doing something bad, my Gran helped.

I can't wait to get my new wand! Gran wasn't nearly as mad as I thought she'd be; she was more worried and proud of me. She says we'll buy it when we get my books. Maybe my magic will be little better then.

Thanks again,

Neville.

The bit about Neville's gran helping him did alleviate some of the concerns that immediately came to mind when he thought about ingesting anything Neville had made. He might even try it. To Harry's surprise, there was a gift from Tonks - a book called Undercover! How to Hide from your Own Mother, by Justin Neighmond. This particular volume was the special extended edition, covering going incognito among muggles. He hadn't seen Tonks for at least a week, and Lupin assured him that she was still well, but in the midst of an operation that required her unique skills. He said she should be back by the time Harry had to leave for Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure when.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a nice sweater with a Gryffindor lion, and Mr. Weasley gave Harry a pewter flask.

"I never properly thanked you," Arthur said. "I know it was you that alerted the order after that bloody snake..." Mr. Weasley pointed at the flask. "It's a Colibri," he remarked, obviously proud. Harry had no idea what that meant, but he nodded as if he did. Mr. Weasley went on, "it was Mad-Eye's idea. It's guaranteed to protect whatever is inside from nearly any curse or hex you can imagine." Ginny provided a well-worn book called Seeking the Seeker, which she claimed was very helpful to her when she had taken over for him last year. Ron gave him a book entitled The Light side of Dark Magic, by "Mr. J". The caption explained that it was a study of the light aspects of dark magic. Molly Weasley scowled, and Ron tapped the cover.

"Open it."

Harry did, and hand-written on the inside was a short note that said "Knowledge is Power; Fear neither - Mr. J". Harry thought that the something about the note looked familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It looked as if it had the potential to be an interesting read, regardless. Ron was obviously particularly pleased.

"I found it in Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blotts. They have loads that are autographed, but I think this was the best." Harry agreed enthusiastically; it was one of the better gifts his friend had given him over the years. Harry was mildly surprised that it had nothing to do with the Chudley Cannons.

The twins, though absent, had gifted him with a pair of dragon-hide boots that Harry appreciated dearly, but doubted he'd ever wear. They were a very soft black, and the note accompanying them said that Fred and George felt that they'd remind Harry of his triumph over the Hungarian Horntail during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and that "nothing kicked an arse quite like a dragon".

Hermione gave Harry a large tome of what appeared to be empty pages. He wasn't sure what to make of it, until she had Lupin take one of Harry's letters to her and place it face down on an empty page. He tapped it with his wand.

"Fac Simile." The letter immediately copied itself to the blank page, scaling itself properly to the size of the sheet.

"Impressive!" Ron gasped. "Where'd you find that?"

"Well, er..." Hermione stammered. Mrs. Weasley spoke up.

"Good heavens, dear, have some pride! She made it, Ron."

"How'd you make it without doing magic?" asked Harry.

"She 'ad me do ze magic," said a voice from behind them. Harry hadn't seen Fleur since he'd arrived a month ago, but he should have guessed she was involved. That would explain why Bill saw Hermione and Harry didn't. The tall French witch looked proudly at the book. "We make a good team, yes?"

"Er..." said Ron.

"Uh..." said Harry. Ron jumped and Harry realized that Hermione had kicked him in the shin. She probably meant to hit Harry, but missed.

"Yeah, you do. It's amazing, really. You're amazing. We're all...er...amazing. Um...can I go now?" Ron didn't leave, but he did turn several different, highly amusing shades of red. Fleur, being used to such reactions, laughed. She appeared to have mellowed out considerably since Harry had seen her last. He turned his attention back to the book, feeling slightly warm inside.

"Delere!" Lupin said, tapping the page. The letter on it vanished, and it was blank again. Lupin turned to the first page, which had the instructions on how to properly operate the book of letters in Hermione's characteristically neat, cramped writing.

"Thank you," said Harry. "It really is amazing."

Lupin dragged what looked like an old school chest to the table, apologizing for not having wrapped it.

"I did wrap a few of the more important things in it, however." Harry opened the chest and found it loaded with books of all shapes and sizes. Three packages sat on the top, each roughly the size of Hermione's book of letters. Harry opened the one on top first. It had no label, and was obviously a journal of some type. He flipped through it and saw page after page of complex magical procedures, until he came to one with sketches. A dog, a rat, and a steed ambled slowly around the page.

"This is...?"

"Exactly what it looks like, Harry. Those top three books are the condensed work of three long years from four very dedicated students. I, ah," he paused seeing the horrified look on Mrs. Weasley's face. "I don't know if I'd recommend trying it, as it is a bit dangerous."

"Not to mention highly illegal," added Mrs. Weasley with more emphasis than was probably required.

"Well, yes, that too. But I thought you might like to have it. Now you have something of ours...your dad, Sirius, me..."

Harry was genuinely touched. He wanted to cry, cheer, and swear, all at the same time. Lupin cleared his throat softly, and Harry looked up.

"I've already made copies of them, but if you'd like I can hold onto these for you as well. I know your space is limited at school."

"Thanks," Harry replied, looking at the nearly full chest, "but may I keep these three?"

"They are yours to do with what you wish." Harry could think of nothing to say, and so instead he embraced the older man, which Remus Lupin returned, only somewhat awkwardly. When he looked up again, Mrs. Weasley was holding another gift.

"This came from Professor Dumbledore," she said, handing Harry a small package wrapped in gold foil. Other than his father's invisibility cloak, he'd never received a present from Professor Dumbledore before, and he was somewhat apprehensive as he carefully removed the wrapping. It was Sirius's mirror; the one he had destroyed the year before. It was mended as good as new, and something was engraved into the bottom of the frame.

"Speak, friend." Harry read aloud. "What does that mean?"

"That's a riddle, Harry," Lupin replied. "It's from classic muggle literature; an area most wizards are sketchy on, at best."

"What's the answer?"

"Harry!" Hermione scolded. "I should think it would be obvious."

"Think on it, Harry," Lupin said, "and if you haven't figured it out in a few days, I'll tell you."

Harry again dreamed of Hermione, who was beginning to make regular appearances, though this time it was the real Hermione and not his unnamed neighbor. She tutted at him for not figuring out the riddle.

"Speak, friend. Honestly, how hard could that be?"

"I'm no good at things like this," said Harry in his dream. "You're the brain."

"You're over-thinking it, Harry. Why don't you try just doing what it says?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, as the Hermione in his dream began to fade into the mists of deeper sleep.

"The instructions are on the mirror. Speak friend! Try following the directions, for once in your life." That last bit sounded a little too much like Snape for Harry's comfort, but the way she said it gave Harry an idea. He sat bolt upright, then fumbled on the stand beside his bed for his glasses. A minute later he was sitting cross-legged on his bed with the mirror in his lap.

Harry gazed into his reflection in the silver mirror and took a breath.

"Friend?" The mirror felt as if it shuddered slightly in his hand, and a picture seemed to spin. A moment later, Dumbledore's face appeared in the frame. He was wearing a blue night cap with golden phoenixes that flitted about playfully, albeit somewhat sleepily.

"Ah, Mister Potter! I was beginning to wonder if I should have put the answer in with the mirror!"

"Hello, Headmaster," Harry said, at a loss for words.

"Hello, Harry. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to talk, when we are both awake."

"Probably," Harry thought, or said. He wasn't sure. He didn't even know if this was a dream or not. He didn't remember falling asleep again, he didn't remember putting the mirror away. The next thing he knew, he was staring at the newly redone ceiling, the grey light of dawn was streaming through the cracks in the drapery on the window. He tentatively opened the chest and lifted the edge of his new sweater. The mirror was beneath it, just as he had left it the night before. He wasn't sure that he wanted to ask Dumbledore if they'd spoken in the middle of the night; He didn't know how the old man would react to what could be the start of more dreams. One thing felt fairly certain though. He knew the answer to the riddle.

"Friend," he said, gazing into his own eyes. The mirror glowed blue, and then Harry was looking into the face of Albus Dumbledore. Something was odd about the man, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hello, Harry." The sleeping cap was gone, replaced by one rather more casual than he was used to seeing. "I hope your birthday was acceptable."

"Hello, Headmaster," Harry said. "It was alright, er..."

"Given the circumstances?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks for the gift."

"I simply returned something that is rightfully yours," he paused, looking pensive. "First the Mirror of Erised, now this. Our history does repeat itself. In any event, I'm pleased to see that you discovered the answer to the riddle."

"I slept on it," Harry said. He could have sworn that Dumbledore showed a hint of a smile.

"There are a few things I wished to discus with you. We could do it now, if you so desire, or we could wait until you are here." Harry could make out some of what was behind Dumbledore. It wasn't any place he recognized. "Mister Lupin still has one mirror, and I have created a device of my own. Whenever you speak the word, we will both be alerted. Should anything arise which you feel is worthy of our attention, please do not hesitate to use it." Harry nodded.

"Can you alert me?"

"Yes, and no. When you use the mirror, the signal is obvious to us. If we need to alert you, using this, the letters on the frame will glow. We were naturally a bit concerned about others being overcome by curiosity."

"Naturally," Harry said. "When it comes to me they seem about ten times as curious as they ought to be."

"Ah, the shortcomings of human nature. I meant to ask you; have you given any thought as to which classes you shall be taking this year?"

"Well, Transfiguration. Defense. Potions, if Snape-"

"Harry..."

"...if Professor Snape will let me. Charms. Then I wasn't sure of the last two."

"You were informed of the Temporalism classes?"

"Yeah. I forgot about that. That still leaves me one or two classes free, but I haven't talked to Professor McGonagall."

"Ah, yes. I heard of your arrangement. She thinks highly of you, or she wouldn't have offered." Harry said nothing. "Might I suggest something?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Might I suggest that you take one other class? Then you may want to consider that enough, to leave you time for other things. It is merely a suggestion; of course, you are free to do what you wish."

"What other things?" he asked suspiciously.

"Occlumency, for one. I still must insist that you learn to protect yourself, at least rudimentarily."

"Do you think Voldemort will ever try anything like that again?"

"Not like that, no. Now that you're both aware of the link and what it can do, I would be quite surprised to see him try the same ruse twice. You still must be protected; however, so this is not, I am afraid, optional."

"And you'll be teaching me, right?"

"I will consider it, if you insist, but Professor Snape is a bit more gifted in that area than I."

"Impossible." Harry said, shaking his head.

"Nonsense, my dear boy, it's quite possible."

"Can I continue D.A.?"

"Would you like to?"

"Yes. If I have the time. Will I?"

"You'll be busy, without a doubt. I believe D.A. serves a very valuable purpose, and I would be delighted if you would continue it. Did you find the room of requirement to your satisfaction? Was there anything you were lacking?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "good judgment. I let one too many people in." Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"It is...a most regrettable thing. I do hope Miss Granger's jinx has finally worn off. We should thank heaven she isn't inclined to do such things more often." Dumbledore paused. "She isn't, is she?"

"Do you think we'd catch her if she was?"

"Ah," he nodded, "an excellent point." He paused again, looking directly at Harry. "Is there anything else?"

"Something has been on my mind - something about the house."

"Yes?"

"In the muggle world, if you're a criminal and you...die...they take your stuff. Why didn't they take Sirius's?"

"You may remember Sirius was denied the benefit of a trial. The Ministry can not seize your property without a proper trial, no matter how guilty you may seem. They were gambling on him dying in Azkaban, and in true Sirius Black form, he denied them the pleasure."

"Will everyone will know he's innocent now?" Dumbledore looked down morosely.

"The court of law and the court of public opinion are two separate things, Harry. The ministry, should they chose to seize his assets now, would have to try him posthumously. They would have no chance whatsoever of winning, owing in great part to the number of people who saw Sirius fighting bravely at the Ministry, and who heard the exchange... Still, I don't believe we'll ever truly clear his name to everyone."

"That's not fair!"

"No, it is not; but then, Sirius was never one to put extraordinary stock into what others thought of him, and he was very rarely concerned with what was fair. You knew he was innocent, and Remus Lupin knew, and I believe that is all that Sirius required." This time it was Harry's turn to pause as he thought on the headmaster's words.

"As much as I'd like to chat, Harry, other duties demand my attention."

"Can I ask you one last thing?"

"Certainly."

"Remus told me that no-one knew what Voldemort is up to..."

"And you would like to know if we are again 'protecting' you. It pains me to admit that it's a fair question for you to ask. Remus is correct. We expected something this summer, and the attack on your house proves that he is not totally inactive. I must admit that we've been looking for magical attacks. Only after I received your owl did we seriously consider Muggle attacks could be connected to Voldemort."

"But so far you've got nothing?"

"That is correct. Consider, Harry, why Voldemort used the dark mark. Sometimes, anticipation is a terrible thing. Is there anything else troubling you?"

"No, sir," Harry said. "Er...Thanks again."

"Thank you, Harry. You know how to reach me, should the need arise."

"I do, sir."

"Then I shall see you in a few weeks. Be safe."

Dumbledore's face grew larger and then the mirror again flashed blue. Harry was left staring at his own pale face. He hadn't given much thought to which classes he was going to take, and the realization had just now struck him that he didn't have any of the books he would need. He scrounged some parchment from his trunk and wrote a letter to Professor McGonagall, asking for any advice she might have. They'd have to leave for Diagon Alley within the next few days if they were going to get the proper books and supplies. When he was finished, he took his note in search of Hedwig or one of the other owls. He glanced into the room next door to find that sometime during the night, Ron had discovered Bill's stash of candy. He lay in the middle of a bed created from the wrappings of nearly every kind of sweet Harry had ever seen, curled into a ball and moaning softly.

"Overdo it, did we?" His friend looked up at him with eyes that spoke volumes.

"I don't want to look at another chocolate frog as long as I live!" Ron exclaimed, his tongue lolling comically from his mouth.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the small mountain of wrappers. "That'll last. Have you seen any of the owls?"

"Nuuuh."

"Right." Harry moved to the next room, which was Lupin's. It too was bare. The next rooms were in use by the girls of the house, and Harry didn't particularly want to pop his head in, so he returned to his room, placing the letter on Hedwig's stand where she would find it when she returned. He'd had never before heard of a literate owl, but Hedwig was generally good about delivering things on her own. That task complete, Harry wandered downstairs. As he reached the bottom step, a wailing echoed through the front hall. Someone was stealing one of his books.

A moment later, a very surprised looking Hermione Granger rushed through the front door, looking frantically about and clutching a struggling green book. Harry noticed with some delight that there were a few small marks on her fingers, which meant that the biting charms Lupin had placed on them had worked.

"You could have told me it would do that!"

"You could have asked to borrow it!" Harry shot back. He wasn't annoyed by her taking the book; he trusted Hermione implicitly, but her attitude did induce a flame of anger. What right did she have to take his book and then snap at him for calling her on it? None at all, that's what.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I forgot they were your books now. I borrowed so many last summer that I didn't even think to ask this time...but they've never done that before!"

"That's because you haven't taken any in the last three weeks. Remus and I put runes on them all. Some can't even go out of the house!"

"Well, the biting was nice," she admitted. "If I was allowed to do proper magic, I'd even show you a few tricks."

Harry had come to learn that Hermione's 'tricks' were nothing to be trifled with, and he wished she could do magic simply to see what she could have produced.

"Well, then, is there any way I can borrow these without them wailing like banshees and aiming for my fingertips?"

"Ah, sure," he touched the tome, which by now had calmed to a slight whimper and some shivering. "Hermione Granger may borrow this book."

A week later, they were standing in Flourish and Blotts, and Harry was glancing at the list that Professor McGonagall and sent him. She'd arranged for Harry to take potions on a probationary basis, and she'd suggested either Herbology, because she felt it would help him with potions, or Muggle Studies, which, owing to his background, he could take without completing the O.W.L. exam. She'd also mentioned that Harry could probably take Magical Medicine as well, if he wanted too, but that she didn't think there would be a problem if he did not. She must have spoken with Snape about his "private lessons", because a book had been added to the end of the list, one that he was certain few other students would need:

Occlumency - poking a stick in the mind's eye. The clerk in Flourish and Blotts mentioned when he retrieved it that they'd only sold a few copies since they'd gotten it, and joked that he'd quite like for someone to read his mind. To their surprise Hermione stepped up.

"You're regretting shaving off your mustache. Your feet hurt, and you want to get back to your reading."

The clerk stared at her, wide-eyed, and Harry was more than a bit shocked as well. Later, as they sat over excellent ice cream, Harry asked her if she was truly a legilimens.

"Oh please!" she said, rolling her eyes. "He had a rash where his mustache was, his shoes were on the wrong feet, and he had ink on his hands from where he'd been licking his fingers and turning the pages."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Ron said, astounded.

"Well, magic isn't everything."

Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

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