Harry Potter and the Guardians of the Mindspeakers

Notes: I began this story in February 2005, and my writing style has evolved since. Therefore, I am incredibly thankful for each of the Betas who are helping me get this fic up to scratch: Geo, who was my first Beta and who helped with the first five chapters; and my current Betas, Apurva (DracoGurlFurever) and Molly (OliveOil_Med), who gave me the constructive criticism and suggestions that enabled me to revamp this chapter and whose gracious help has given me the energy to tackle the entire fic. I would also like to thank my best friend, Lily, and an old Latin teacher, who have helped me with naming spells and translating into Latin, respectively.

oOoOo

Harry Potter and the Guardians of the Mindspeakers

Chapter One: Dreams

In dreams like these, Harry wasn't allowed the mercy of movement or speech. He was forced to watch the worst moments over and over again, as though he were in a meeting with a sadistic therapist.

He had been dreaming about the Department of Mysteries. The echo of his footsteps against the dark flooring tumbled into the shadows that swallowed the edges of the hall. Every night, it seemed, Harry found himself returning to the Department of Mysteries, and he was always alone. Just as in his visions, his feet always took him through the same door; but Voldemort never appeared. Instead, Harry was as alone making his way past the stone benches as when he'd first entered the circular chamber. And he was alone when his feet paused before the Veil, his bleak eyes taking in the swaying form that showed no change now that it had swallowed Sirius Black.

However, when he turned around, he would no longer be by himself; his friends were there, wands held to their bloody, bruised, and exhausted heads. At the top of the steps, he could see the blood shining as it dripped from Neville's broken nose. Hermione and Luna lay unconscious several steps below, and through the open door he could just see Ron struggling against the brain while Ginny looked on, her expression grim as her broken ankle and the wand held to her head kept her from going to her brother's aid. Each night, Harry would turn back to the Veil, expecting another figure to have appeared, but in vain, for the Veil fluttered exactly as it had before.

Yet this night the dream had changed. When Harry turned back to the Veil, Sirius stood in front of it, his eyes solemn. Quietly vocalizing the concerns of Harry's conscience, the man queried, "Why me, Harry? Hadn't I suffered enough for you? I warned you about Kreacher, but you didn't listen, and now I'm dead. You should know by now to let others do the saving. How many more lives are you going to ruin before you learn?"

The sadness in his voice, the hurt rebuke, had made Harry flinch, wanting to explain it wasn't his fault, but he hadn't been able to say anything.

Sirius had begun to back away, but he continued to speak. "If you wanted to save me so much, why didn't you stop me? Why don't you stop me now?" For Sirius was stepping backwards, placing one foot assuredly behind the other as he held Harry's gaze.

Harry had hesitated, staring at his godfather in horror, for just a second too long; as he reached out, Sirius took the final step through the Veil. Harry had watched his godfather disappear a second time, and had felt nothing but numbness when Bellatrix's laughter rang out from above him.

And then Harry woke up, staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to determine whether he felt any guiltier than he had since the first time he'd lost his godfather. He didn't think so, but at any rate he wasn't sure how to differentiate new guilt from old. Only then did Bellatrix's laughter begin to anger him.

She laughed, he thought. He was her cousin, and she laughed. She didn't even bat an eyelid at killing her own family.

Shaking his head, Harry glanced at the clock: it was nearly six. He sighed as he leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and rubbed his nose.

After a few minutes, Harry took a deep breath and walked over to Hedwig's cage.

"Hey, girl," he said softly.

She responded with a questioning hoot, and Harry gave her a tired half-smile.

Stiffening, Harry recalled the exotic birds Sirius had sent to him during his fourth year. With a small - and, these days, unusual - smile, Harry wondered what Sirius would be doing if he were still alive. Perhaps he'd be sitting in Grimmauld Place with Lupin, reminiscing about old times - or even taking Harry on holiday to the very island that was the origin of those birds. Although, Harry reflected, since Voldemort was becoming more active and Sirius had been a wanted criminal at the time of his death, the latter was unlikely.

As he caught up with his thoughts, Harry shook his head. Thinking about Sirius simply reminded him of his dream and his failure to save his godfather. To distract himself, he grabbed a quill and a bit of parchment and quickly scribbled a note to Ron.

Ron,

How are you? I'm fine, I guess. The Dursleys are still behaving strangely, but at least they ignore me after breakfast. Can you tell the Order everything's fine? Thanks, mate. How's everyone at the Burrow?
Harry

Harry walked back to Hedwig's cage and gave her the letter.

"Wait until you get an answer, okay?"

Hedwig remained stationary, head cocked to one side, until Harry thought to give her an owl treat. She gave his hand a quick peck, as she'd taken to doing almost every day that summer, and flew off.

"Thanks, girl," Harry called softly after her.

Looking at the clock, he realized it was just past six-thirty. Much to Dudley's horror, Vernon had taken to the idea of having a family breakfast at seven, and Harry usually awoke to the sound of his uncle pounding against the door. Since he was already awake, Harry decided to head downstairs. Perhaps he would be able to grab some breakfast and retreat to his room before his family appeared, claiming a headache so he could avoid the awkward meal? Harry wasn't sure why Vernon had interpreted the Order's threats as a reason for a family meal, but Harry welcomed the break from cooking. He quickly got dressed, grabbed his wand, and headed to the kitchen. To his surprise, his aunt and uncle were already up. He sat down at the table, and his uncle acknowledged him with a grunt. Petunia nodded stiffly towards the platters of food in the middle of the table and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her prim dress.

While Harry toyed with his toast and eyed his family's nice dress, she said, "We will be going out. You are not to touch anything."

"Mmm-hmm," said Harry, not really listening. "Wait - what?"

"We are going out. You are not to touch anything while we are gone," Petunia reiterated, her lips turning down in a frown at having to repeat herself.

"Oh," said Harry shortly.

The Dursleys had spent the past several days hovering around him, and it was odd that they'd chosen that morning to go out. For a moment, Harry wondered what had sparked this change, but he quickly decided he didn't care as long as it meant he could get away from the table. He put down his toast and started to get up.

"Just a minute, boy," ordered Vernon.

"What?" said Harry flatly.

"While we are out, you're not to do anything - freakish." He and Petunia exchanged a glance at the last, and Harry again wondered what had caused his relatives' unusual behavior.

"Well?" asked his uncle impatiently.

"Fine," said Harry, just managing not to roll his eyes. His family knew very well he couldn't do magic outside of school. "I won't do any magic. Or anything freakish," he added when his uncle didn't seem satisfied.

Vernon looked at him suspiciously, eye twitching at his nephew's use of the m-word, but let him go. He'd heard the thump-thump of his son's approaching footsteps and had used up any interest he'd had in his nephew's plots.

"Good. Well. Go back to your room, then."

"Of course, sir," said Harry, with false politeness. He quickly headed to the stairs. As he passed Dudley, his cousin gave him a look which was unusually thoughtful and which made him uncomfortable.

Ducking his head, Harry hurried to his room and shut the door. This time, he grabbed a book for a distraction, and flopped onto his bed. He looked at it and realized he didn't recognize the cover. Flipping through it, he thought it looked like something from the Restricted Section of the school library. Just as he was reaching the end of the book, a piece of paper fell out. It read:

Harry,

I thought that you might like to have this. There are a few spells you might find interesting.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry grinned, for a moment forgetting his grief and guilt. He was willing to bet this wasn't a book he was supposed to have. He flipped back to the first page of Most Powerful and Ancient Spells and began to read.

He remained absorbed in the book almost the entire day, getting up to reference something he'd read so many times he was sure Hermione would be proud of him. As he put down the book a final time, Harry stretched and yawned. He was surprised he hadn't heard the Dursleys come in yet, but it was possible that, just as they'd done this morning, they had made their way through the house silently and were doing their best to avoid him. Either way, he was hungry. Harry walked downstairs and was greeted with an odd silence. It was as though the house was holding its breath, waiting for him.

Harry pulled his wand out of a pocket and held it in front of him. Was it possible a Death Eater had somehow forced his way through the wards without setting off any sort of alarm? Harry didn't think so, but he kept a firm grip on his wand as he crept into the kitchen. When he was by the kitchen table, a voice softly called out from behind him,

"Wotcher, Harry."

He jumped and spun around, finding himself face to face with Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Mad-Eye Moody.

Relieved, Harry asked the first thing that came to mind, "Why are we in the dark?"

Remus frowned and looked as if he wanted to say something, but strode over to the wall and flipped on the light.

As he did so, Moody said, "Don't go putting that away, lad," to Harry, who was lowering his wand arm. "Always make sure we are who we say we are before you let your guard down."

"A good point," Remus agreed. He added, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." His eyes sparkled briefly as Moody and Tonks exchanged a look.

Moody grunted and said, as though savoring a pleasant memory, "What Dursley isn't aware of could fill several books."

Tonks simply rolled her eyes and changed her appearance to match that of Petunia when the Dursleys had picked Harry up from King's Cross. It was a little more difficult to fake being a Metamorphmagus.

"What's happened?" Harry queried, looking from one serious face to the other.

"I'm afraid, Harry," said Lupin quietly, "that there have been several attacks on Muggles since the end of the school year. When the guard reported that the Dursleys had not yet returned and there had been no sign of activity in the home, Albus thought it prudent to have us stop by. I take it they haven't called?"

"No," said Harry, feeling uneasy, "they wouldn't. You don't think...?" He trailed off.

Tonks shrugged. "We're not worried yet. Besides, for all we know the lawn competition hasn't finished." At Harry's raised eyebrow, Tonks beamed. "Oh, yes, after the fuss they made last year about the All-England competition, they were shoe-ins for Surrey's. According to Arabella, everyone wants to see the family who thought they could go straight to nationals."

Harry tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Harry, are you all right?" Lupin asked sharply.

"I'm fine," Harry said shortly.

Remus frowned, but didn't say anything further.

Moody returned from searching through the cupboards. "We'd better head back to Headquarters. Let us know when the Muggles return, won't you? An owl will do," said Moody gruffly.

"Let me guess," said Harry softly. "I get to stay here?"

Remus looked at him sadly.

"Yes; we are returning to Grimmauld Place."

Harry noticed Remus stiffen and take on a hard look, and felt a surge of guilt. Harry opened his mouth to apologise, though he didn't know how he could ever articulate how much he regretted leading Sirius to his death; but Remus seemed to anticipate Harry's words, for he grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him gently.

"Harry," Remus said, quietly but fiercely. "Sirius's death isn't your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself." He hesitated, and was saved from his ambivalence when the clock chimed the hour.

Moody glanced at the clock as Lupin straightened, and said, "Remus, we have to go. Dumbledore is expecting us back soon. The first signal just went."

Lupin and Tonks sighed simultaneously, looked at each other, and rolled their eyes.

Remus squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Bye, Harry!" said Tonks, as she winked at him. "Don't torment your aunt and uncle too much; otherwise, they'll never win that lawn competition."

Harry snorted.

As Moody, Tonks and Lupin Apparated away, Harry glumly realized that nothing had been said about getting him out of there. He grabbed a plate of leftovers and ate in the once again silent room. After he finished his quick meal, he returned to his room, feeling restless. He didn't want to think about Sirius or the Dursleys and he doubted he could sit still enough to read. Harry eyed his room. It was unusually messy, he decided. He had only been at Privet Drive for a week, and almost all of his possessions were spread out over the small room.

Harry strode forward and grabbed books from the floor, stacking them into neat piles. He shoved his hand-me-downs into a drawer and put his school stuff into his trunk. As he worked, he kept his mind focused only on the objects he was touching, moving quickly so he never thought about one object for too long. When he felt too exhausted to continue, he stopped to admire the result of his work. His room wasn't as neat as the rest of the house, but it didn't look like a train wreck, either. Satisfied, he stumbled over to his bed and collapsed onto it.

oOoOo

Harry was wandering down a path in a dark forest. At the end of the path, he found himself in a graveyard. Filled with dread, Harry looked around and noticed that this was the same graveyard where he had seen Cedric killed and where Voldemort had returned to his body. Hearing a branch break, Harry looked up and saw himself surrounded by Death Eaters. As if one, they pulled off their masks. He found himself looking at the faces of Bellatrix, Malfoy, Wormtail, Nott, Avery, Macnair, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Remus, and his parents.

"Why, Harry?" asked Lily sadly. "Why did you have to get your father and me killed? We were so happy. You got Sirius thrown into Azkaban and then killed, too. Are you happy, Harry? Getting us all killed? Who's next?"

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna stared at him.

"I thought you were our friend, Harry," said Neville and Luna, softly.

"I am," Harry tried to say, but it was as if his mouth had been glued shut.

"Why did you make us go with you, Harry? Why do you have to be the hero all the time?" said Hermione, her eyes showing her disappointment in him.

Ron and Ginny were next.

"You could have got us killed, mate. Why are you always getting us into trouble? I thought we were your friends - don't we mean any more to you than that?"

"I can't believe I ever used to fancy you, Harry. You're every bit as arrogant as Snape said you are. You had to go save Sirius, and ended up getting him killed. I'm disappointed in you; I'd thought you were better than that. I guess I was wrong."

It was what Ginny had to say that hurt him the most. He wasn't really arrogant...was he?

"Harry, you're the reason I, your parents, and hundreds of others were killed. When is this going to end? You should recognize your weaknesses and join us here. You're just a danger to the world while you're there."

Sixteen wands raised and pointed at him. Sixteen voices said, "Avada..."

oOoOo

"No!" Harry jolted awake, panting and covered in sweat.

"It was just a dream," Harry muttered to himself. "Just a dream, they don't really think that.'" But a small part of him wondered if it were true. Do they really hate me so much? he thought uneasily. With that thought, Harry fell into a troubled sleep.