Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of the Mind

HARRY POTTER AND THE LABYRINTH OF THE MIND

Chapter Four - Coming to Order

Harry and Remus reentered the kitchen to find Ron and Ginny sitting alone at the table.

"They're all in the sitting room. They're just waiting on you and Kingsley Shacklebolt to get started." Ginny's voice curled with disgust. "We aren't welcome."

"You'd think after all that's happened, you know, with the D.A. and all, they'd let us hear her story, anyway," grumbled Ron. "I know the twins aren't in there either, but that's only because someone had to stay at The Burrow and look after things." He sighed deeply as Ginny rolled her eyes.

Although Harry's reappearance had, again, drawn the Following Formation Fairies, even they seemed affected by the mood which hung over the table like a cloud. They swung in a slow circle over Harry's head as he spoke.

"Oh, come on. You know I'll come right back and tell you everything, anyway. Tell you what, Ron. Why don't you two get that charm book Bill and Charlie gave me and start looking up spells to use on Malfoy."

Ron gave Harry a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, you'll be telling me everything. Like you could avoid it... Alright, c'mon Gin, we may as well have a look at those hexes. You never know, they might be dead useful."

He and Ginny rose from the table and followed Remus out of the room. Harry followed, as well, leaving his fairies behind.

Remus and Harry hurried into the sitting room. Harry noticed quite a change since he, Remus and Ron had been playing cards there earlier in the day. The furniture had been transfigured into rows of straight backed chairs. At the end of the room, opposite the fireplace, several chairs sat in a semi-circle, facing the others. Remus steered Harry toward the semi-circle where Tonks, Diggle, and Annwyl were already seated. As Harry sat down between Tonks and Remus, he stole a glance at Annwyl. She sat a bit apart from the others, taking no part in conversation as the others in the room were doing. Her face was still rather pale and her eyes were fixed high on the opposite wall. Her expression was calm but Harry noticed her hands were clenched in tight fists in her lap.

Standing to one side, conferring quietly and looking over the assembled group was Dumbledore and, to Harry's distinct displeasure, the Hogwarts Potions Master, Severus Snape. As he watched the two men, Harry could feel his own lip curling in distaste. Snape was as unpleasant looking as ever, his long, dark hair lank about his sharp, sallow face. As he listened to the headmaster speak, Snape looked in Harry's direction. As their eyes met, Snape's habitual sneer deepened. Harry stared, unblinking, unwilling to be the first to look away. After a moment, Snape looked away with a flare of his nostrils.

"Easy, Harry. It won't do anyone any good to have the two of you constantly at each other's throats," Remus hissed in his ear. He had seen what had passed between them and was looking at Harry with concern.

"Well, Harry," said Tonks, leaning in from the other side, unaware of any tension, "there's Kingsley, now. That should do us. Are you ready to tell your story?"

"What? Me?" asked Harry, much surprised. "I thought we were going to hear Annwyl's version."

"Yes, but the group will need to hear your version, as well as anything Tonks, Diggle and I can tell them," Remus explained.

Dumbledore had moved to stand directly in front of Harry's chair, facing the others in the room. He raised his hands and hemmed and a hush came over the group as they took their seats.

"My friends," the old headmaster began, "I thank you for your prompt attendance this evening."

Harry was struck anew at how much Albus Dumbledore had seemed to age in recent years. Tonight, his white hair and beard seemed to have aged to near transparency. The lines of his face had deepened and the blue eyes, though bright and alert as ever, did not twinkle with any trace of humor.

"Since Voldemort's exposure at the Ministry more than a month ago, we have been waiting for signs of his next course of action," Dumbledore went on. "Two nights ago, we received that sign, although, as we have come to expect, the Ministry is hesitant to act upon it. I want you to hear the story directly from those involved in that night's events. I invite Remus Lupin to begin."

So, Remus rose and told his story - how Hestia Jones had been on duty at Privet Drive that night, how he had received an urgent message from Arabella Figg about a magical person crossing the wards around the Dursleys' house. Then, he nodded to Harry, who came to stand beside him. Once again, Harry poured out his story. When he had finished, he and Remus resumed their seats. Dedalus Diggle stood with Tonks and they described what had occurred after they left Remus and Harry.

Not surprisingly, they found no trace of the attacker. They suspected some sort of connection with Voldemort, but no Dark Mark had been cast. In fact, Hestia's injuries did not resemble anything they had ever seen before. The two remained on guard the rest of that night and there had been the usual guard since then, but Privet Drive remained quiet.

When Tonks and Diggle were seated again, Dumbledore spoke.

"And so, you see our dilemma. Madame Pomfrey came from Hogwarts to attend to Annwyl King, but rather than shedding light on the situation, her observations were befuddling. It was not until the following afternoon, when I was able to speak with Miss King, that I was able to discern a pattern in these events."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"When did Dumbledore talk to Annwyl? I never saw him," he whispered to Remus.

"Later, Harry," answered Remus, quietly. "It's a bit hard to explain."

In the meantime, Annwyl had gone forward to stand beside her godfather. Despite knowing whom they were to see and hear, a hum of whispers rose from the group upon seeing her stand. Annwyl seemed oblivious to the excitement. She gave her godfather a solemn look, then turned to the others to speak.

"I daresay you will all have numerous questions to ask me," she began, her voice cool and detached."As I am certain that some, at least, will be answered in the course of my story, I ask that you wait until all is told before voicing them."

She paused for a moment, looking around. Taking their silence as acquiescence, she nodded briefly, took a deep breath and began her tale.

"For those of you not familiar with my history, I was, in the previous war against the Dark Lord, a member of this Order and a newly trained Auror for the Ministry. Like many, my training was abbreviated so as to make us available for duty sooner. So, after only one year of training and lacking some of the current academic requirements, I entered field duty with the Auror Corps at age 19. I served for nearly one year.

"I must take you back to the night of my disappearance nearly 15 years ago in order to properly explain my reappearance on Privet Drive. It was mid November, roughly two weeks after the attack on the Potters and the scattering of the Dark Order. I, and seven other Aurors were staging a raid on a meeting of suspected Death Eaters still at large. Upon our arrival, it became obvious that not only was it a Dark Order meeting, the group was some three times larger than our informant had led us to believe and they have been warned of our arrival. We found ourselves outnumbered, three to one, and they were prepared to kill.

"As some of you may remember, seven Death Eaters were captured that night, but two Aurors were killed and I was ultimately presumed dead, as well. A great loss, indeed, but I did not learn of it for several days.

I know several Aurors reported having seen me fall to an unknown curse and then disappear. It was assumed that the fall and disappearance was the result of one fatal spell. As you can see, they was not the case. I was, in fact, hit with two spells a split-second apart. The first was a stunning spell, though cast with rather more strength than is usual. The second was a form of banishing charm. I have, since, researched the spell and I learned that this Exilae charm is actually part of the Dark Arts. Exilae does not merely banish, it removes altogether. The distance the object, or in this case, person moves depends upon the power injected into the charm when it is cast. In this instance, the spell was a powerful one. I found myself some thirty kilometers from where I had been fighting.

"So, I regained consciousness in a wooded area, unfamiliar to me, and I was not able to determine how long I had been stunned. After walking an hour or so, I came upon a farmhouse where I was able to obtain a meal, some directions toward London, and an opportunity to read a muggle newspaper. I found I had been unconscious nearly three days.

"Since I now knew where I was, I was able to Apparate back to my flat where I intended to contact the Ministry and the Order immediately. However, upon arriving home, I found in the owl post box, a copy of The Prophet from the morning after the raid. It listed me among the dead. Now, I might have corrected them, of course, but I was stopped by the only other letter in the box. It was unsigned but for a small rendering of the Dark Mark. It said that the faithful of the Dark Lord were aware I had not been killed. They were seeking me particularly so as to revenge themselves upon my godfather. It seemed they blamed him, most particularly, for their master's downfall.

"At this point, I formulated a new plan. I could go into hiding and serve as a spy for the Order. Most already considered me dead. Assuming a new identity would be no challenge. I had only to avoid a handful of revenge-starved Death Eaters. You see, I agreed with my godfather that while the Dark Order was disbanded, their master could not, due to the nature of the sort of magic he practiced, be dead, but only temporarily thwarted. I hoped that providing information to the Order anonymously, his return might be delayed until his power was spent.

"This, then, is what I did. For the past nearly fifteen years I have been a shadow spy for the Order. On many occasions, Albus has received information in various ways, all originating from me, although he was completely unaware of this. For the safety of all concerned, I deemed it best that the source be known to no one.

However, recently, the news I had gathered was of such a strange and complex nature, I decided to sacrifice my secrecy and contact the Order directly. I was in the process of doing this two nights ago when I was attacked."

Annwyl paused a moment and looked around. Harry followed her glance and saw more than one skeptical look. He couldn't blame them. He thought, himself, her story sounded a bit off. Even Mr. Weasley, standing at the opposite end of the room wore a calculating look unusual to him. Snape, Harry noticed, was sneering in disdain, and eerily, a touch of amusement. Seeing the doubt, Annwyl squared her shoulders and continued.

"I was trying to make direct contact with the Order to explain the latest plans to attack throughout Britain. Through a series of highly discreet contacts, I have learned that the Dark Lord intends to develop his abilities in Legilimency, enhancing them with a variety of Dark spells of his own devising. It seems his goal is to be able to impose upon his victims, souls of his own creation, thus creating entirely faithful and suggestible serpents."

At this, the murmuring broke out anew. Annwyl took her seat and Harry noticed she was shaking and even more pale. He looked at Remus next to him. The older man's face was still, his eyes thoughtful.

Dumbledore, once again, raised his hand for silence.

"Since hearing Miss King's story yesterday, I have had several operatives checking on Voldemort's progress in this area. Additionally, several others have been looking into the attacks on Annwyl and Hestia Jones." Dumbledore sighed a little. "It seems Voldemort's progress was demonstrated in the attacks. As you have already heard, the wounds sustained by the two are, in appearance, consistent with a werewolf attack. Based on an eyewitness account given by one of the Dursleys' neighbors, there was a man in dark robes wandering about Privet Drive shortly after the attack. The witness was able to give quite and accurate description before his memory was modified by a Ministry representative. His description of the stranger strongly resembles Miss King's description of her attacker. The witness also described the man as aimless - looking as though he wasn't actually seeing anything or or was able to take notice of anything passing around him. He was not, however, at any time, described as a werewolf."

Harry stole a glance at Remus. He was rigid, his eyes closed, his face white. Harry longed to say something, but couldn't think what. Dumbledore was still addressing the group.

"While we are, as yet, unable to determine precisely what occurred, I have formulated an hypothesis. Since the breach of Azkaban, we can assume the dementors to be in Voldemort's service. I fear, Voldemort has chosen to practice and perfect his soul imposition spells on individuals who have been kissed. Their absence of souls would render them highly suitable subjects for his experimentation. I believe the attack near the Dursley residence was a trial run in which Voldemort imposed the semblance of a werewolf soul upon one who had been kissed."

The vague murmurs escalated into outcries of alarm. The headmaster stretched out his hands placatingly.

"Now, now. My friends, we must keep our heads. While we do not know how the process is accomplished or how to prevent it, we can be reassured that the spell seems, at this time, to be temporary."

Harry felt this was small comfort in the face of totally unpredictable werewolf attacks. However, before anyone could comment aloud, a wizard Harry didn't know entered the room. The man came forward and Harry noticed a badge on his robes which indicated he was a Ministry Auror. He stopped before Dumbledore and offered a parchment.

"Albus, I've just come from the Ministry. Muggle police picked up a muggle male who matches the description of the fellow seen wandering around Privet Drive. Ministry Aurors have been monitoring any muggle arrests resembling then man. Two Aurors were dispatched immediately. They examined the detainee. He has, most certainly, been kissed."

At this, several rose and looked questioningly at Dumbledore. One, whom Harry recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt, spoke.

"Albus, perhaps you had better carry on without those of us who are Aurors. This latest is sure to cause a bit of a blow up and I imagine we shall all be summoned for duty."

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore agreed. "The sooner we get the facts of the situation, the better."

Next to Harry, Tonks rose. Dropping him a wink and whispering one last wish for a happy birthday, she joined the other exiting Aurors. They were stopped, however, by a commotion in the hall outside the door. Dumbledore waved to Arthur Weasley, who brought the Aurors back, along with, to everyone's surprise, George Weasley.

"What in the world are you doing here?" demanded Mr. Weasley. "Where's Fred?"

"Sorry, Dad, I used your emergency portkey," George answered, looking more serious than Harry had ever seen him. "Fred and I had just finished tending to the wards at home, when we got an urgent owl from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron. He was contacting all the Diagon Alley merchants. There's been some sort of attack. Bloody big, from the sound of it. Fred wanted to go straight away, but I talked him into waiting until I got back. I think some of the Order ought to come."

"Albus," Remus spoke up, "suppose I go with Dedalus and Mundungus. No one would think twice seeing us there. And, perhaps, Arthur had better bet home and wait for official notice from the Ministry."

"Dedalus and Mundungus should go, certainly, and perhaps Charlie Weasley could join them. Arthur, you should go home and await word." Dumbledore held up a hand, cutting off Remus' objection. "No, Remus. I can't allow you to go. If this should be another attack staged to appear the work of werewolves, you would certainly end in Ministry custody. No, it is too great a risk. There will be to much panic and too little information."

At this, Dumbledore turned to various people, sending some to Ministry offices and others to notify Order members not present.

"Bill," Dumbledore addressed the eldest Weasley son, "perhaps you could go and relieve Alastor Moody of his duty on Privet Drive. I am certain he shall be anxious to go to Diagon Alley himself."

In moments, nearly everyone in the room had scattered under the old wizard's direction. There remained, with him, only Harry, Remus, Annwyl, Snape and Professor McGonagall, whom Harry had not even noticed until that moment.

"Minerva," the headmaster said, "I think you, Remus and I should return to Hogwarts. We can receive updates there quite promptly as well as discuss a few other... tactical concerns."

Harry, watching all that passed, froze suddenly, hearing Snape speaking behind him. The professor's voice was a low, silken hiss which made Harry shudder. Then he realized with a start that Snape was not speaking to him, but to Annwyl, who was still slumped in her chair.

"As lamentable as this attack shall certainly prove to be, how fortunate for you, Miss King. They seem to have forgotten their questions."

Harry shifted slightly in his seat so as to watch the pair surreptitiously. Snape was leaning slightly over the high back of Annwyl's chair, his left hand on the arm. Annwyl, nearly as pale as the night she was attacked, was staring stonily back at the Potions Master, saying nothing.

"To satisfy my own curiosity," Snape went on, "I had thought to ask several questions, myself. I would ask why, when all other still-active Death Eaters sought an infant Potter to revenge their master, this group of which you speak sought to strike so obliquely at Albus Dumbledore." His voice lowered further to a near snarl. "And, I would ask how such a young and inexperienced Auror, who's transfiguration abilities were particularly lacking, was able to hid her identity whilst spying so very effectively for nearly fifteen years - without ever once leaving any trace or hint of her existence."

Harry had to admire Annwyl's reflexes. Weak and shaking as she visibly was, her hand shot forward, pushing back the left sleeve of Snape's robes. The cold, vicious looking Dark Mark, Voldemort's brand, glared startlingly against the sallow skin.

"Indeed, Professor Snape. Questions can be so extremely awkward, can they not?" Annwyl's voice was quiet with icy calm.

Snape drew himself upright quickly, pulling away his arm. Without a glance or word to anyone, he swept from the room, his black robes swirling as he went.

Annwyl was still sitting, statue-still, when Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"Albus, if you are all leaving now, surely it would be alright for Annwyl to get back to bed. She is still recovering and this is all very draining for her, I'm sure." She approached Annwyl as Dumbledore nodded. "Come on, then, Annwyl. Let's get you back to your room, shall we? Harry, suppose you take her other arm?"

Having just heard her speak to the Order and hold her ground before Snape, Harry was surprised to find, now, that all Annwyl's strength seemed to have left her. She didn't speak, but leaned heavily on Harry and Mrs. Weasley as they helped her down the hall to her room. Reaching the door, Mrs. Weasley, turned to Harry.

"Thank you, Harry. We can manage from here. Ron and Ginny are having a snack in the kitchen before bed. Suppose you join them."

When Harry entered the kitchen a moment later, Ron was at the table with a plate of treacle tart and Ginny was kneeling before the fire, toasting fork in hand and a bag of marshmallows by her side. Harry dropped into a chair and rested his forehead on the table. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him. It didn't feel like the same evening as the merry birthday dinner.

"Well," said Ron, expectantly, "spill it, Harry, and don't leave anything out. Ginny, toast the man a marshmallow, yeah?" Ginny stuck her tongue out in reply, but speared another marshmallow just the same.

"What happened to the Formation Fairies?" asked Harry, looking around.

"The charm wears off in a few hours, just like regular fairylights," Ginny replied, handing him a lightly browned candy. "Careful, it's still a bit warm. So?"

Harry blew on the candy, cooling it while he collected his thoughts. There really was an awful lot to tell. When he had finished chewing, he launched into his story, leaving nothing out, including the odd exchange between Snape and Annwyl.

"Well," said Ron, when Harry had finished, "we reckoned something big was up when George turned up. He looked like he'd smelled a troll."

"There's something odd about Annwyl's story, isn't there?" Ginny commented, thoughtfully rotating the toasting fork over the flames. "I mean, why would a Death Eater have used such an obscure banishing charm? Why not just cast a body bind and carry her off? And what does an Exilae charm actually do? Did she disappear and reappear thirty kilometers away or did she go soaring over the countryside? Sounds a bit dodgy, if you ask me."

"We could use Hermione and the Hogwarts library about now," answered Harry.

"I never thought I'd be saying this," said Ron, after a few moments' thought, "and I'm betting it's going to hurt when I do, but... I think I have to go along with Snape, here. How did she hide all this time?"

"It's funny, you know," mused Harry. "She was perfectly pleasant when I was talking to her this afternoon, but I never got the impression she was actually talking to me - more like she was talking through me. You know, like her mind wasn't really on what she was saying at all."

"Ordinarily, I'd say Snape distrusting her is practically a ringing endorsement," said Ron, frowning.

"Yeah," Harry answered, "but this time, I'm not so sure."

Mrs. Weasley came in at that moment and looked at them in surprise.

"Are you three still up, then? I thought you'd have gone off ages ago."

"We want to wait up for Dad," Ginny said, her eyes pleading.

"Oh, no, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered, "it'll be hours before anyone knows anything. You lot may as well get to bed. I daresay there'll be news in the morning."

Knowing no amount of arguing would sway her, Harry, Ron and Ginny rose and said goodnight. After one more thank you for the birthday supper, Harry followed the other two out of the kitchen.

They separated at the stairs, Ginny going up to her room which was next to her parents' and Ron and Harry turning down the hall to theirs. They moved about quietly, knowing Annwyl's room was just across from their's. There was no sound from her room. It seemed only a few minutes before Ron's snores filled the night, but Harry lay awake, thinking over everything he'd seen and heard. Nothing got any clearer, however, and after a bit, with a sigh of disgust, Harry rolled over and forced himself to sleep.