Harry Potter and the Tome of Shadows

            Chapter 9: The Phoenix Code

    Harry was floating in darkness, wandering through a dense fog of impenetrable shadow. He had no idea where he was, nor did he care; the only thought he had was to get through the ocean of blackness. He saw a dim light far in the distance, and he took off, heading for the light. He swam as fast as he could, clawing through the murk, and as he got closer to the closer he could hear noises, voices, but they were not clear. Desperate to hear those voices, he went faster, and faster, his breath catching in his chest. He could hear a baby crying, a woman screaming, and he knew he had to get there, he just had to. He was nearly at the light, and he could hear someone calling his name. He ignored them, he had to get to the baby, the woman; they needed help.

    “Harry!” a voice right in his ear shouted, and he opened his eyes and yelled in surprise. He was no longer in the shadow, but in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

    “What...um...,” Harry stammered, and he saw Hermione looking vaguely annoyed. Ginny, Ron, and Neville were stifling laughs, while Luna looked uninterestedly at the Quibbler she was reading.

    “Took you long enough to wake up,” Hermione said sharply. “You have to change into your school robes, we’re here.”

    “Oh, right,” Harry said. Everyone else was already ready, and Harry quickly slipped into his school robes. The train slid to a stop, and they all got off the train. It was already dark; Harry looked up into the sky, but heavy cloud cover was blocking the moon and starlight. He was surprised to feel Hermione take his arm and drag him from the station.

    “Firs’ years this way!” Harry heard, and he saw Hagrid waving towards the first years. Harry wanted to say hello, but the crowd of first years burst towards Hagrid, and he couldn’t get close enough. Harry allowed himself to be steered into a carriage, and he drew his robes tighter to him to keep him warm.

    “It’s awfully chilly for early September,” Harry said with a shiver.

    “Agreed,” Hermione said. “But it should be nice and warm in the Great Hall.”

    The carriage trundled towards the castle, through the entrance gate flanked by winged boars. Harry saw two grey phantasms with haunting eyes filled with grey fire. One of them turned, its mouth opened, and that too had grey fire burning inside. Harry shuddered.

    “I can’t believe Dumbledore is keeping those things around,” Ron said, looking pale as he stared at the sentinels. “They’re creepy, they are.”

    “Still, the castle needs some protecting,” Hermione said. “They’re better than the dementors.”

    “Not by much,” Harry said. He had some experience with one sentinel in particular, and though it was an ally, it was not an extremely pleasant person.

    “What are they anyhow?” Ron asked.

    “Professor McGonagall told us last year,” Hermione said annoyed, but Ron just shrugged.

    “They’re souls torn from their bodies,” Harry said dully. “They’re forced to relive the last moments of their lives forever, which is why they’re vicious. Dumbledore has them around because if they can summon up happiness, they can destroy dementors.”

    “Blimey,” Ron said, aghast. “Something that can destroy dementors can’t be that bad.” The conversation lulled as the carriages stopped in front of the Entrance Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione traipsed up the entrance steps and into the Entrance Hall. Professor McGonagall was standing there waiting.

    “You lot head into the Great Hall,” she called to the students. Most were exchanging stories over the summer. Some were whispering about the Malfoy trial.

    “Why are they so interested in the court case?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they waited to speak to Professor McGonagall. “Chances are that Malfoy will be getting out as soon as he’s convicted.”

    “Because the Ministry is keen to show that they can get some of the Death Eaters,” Hermione responded. “And this trial will show how strong of a minister Percy is.” Ron’s face turned a horrible shade of puce at the mention of Percy.

    “How’re your parents dealing with that?” Harry asked tentatively.

    “They’re all right. Percy still hasn’t talked to them since two years ago, even though he knows now that Fudge was servant of You-Know-Who,” Ron said darkly. “Even still, he’s been too proud to admit that Mum and Dad were right to join Dumbledore. I reckon Percy thinks it’ll be him who brings down You-Know-Who. But he’s been so busy auditing my father’s office that I doubt he’ll get anything done.”

    “He’s auditing your father’s office?” Hermione asked incredulously.

    “Yep. He’s put him and Perkins on probation. Says their office is useless in times like these. Dad might lose his job any day now, Dad’s been having a right fit about it.” Harry didn’t respond, but he knew too well that the Weasleys couldn’t afford for Mr. Weasley to lose his job.

    “Fred and George have been sending some gold, as have Bill and Charlie, but my parents won’t take anymore,” Ron said, his face reddening. Finally, the crowd had thinned enough for the three of them to talk to Professor McGonagall.

    “Please, Professor, we’re supposed to speak with Professor...”

    “Right, Potter,” McGonagall said quickly before he could finish. “Head straight to the office, and don’t tell anyone on the way up.” Harry nodded and, with a glance at the other two, they made their way quickly to Dumbledore’s office. They were muted in their discussion, anticipation and anxiety brimming in them. What were they being called for? What was the purpose of this meeting? They made it to the stone gargoyle of the phoenix standing as the entrance way.

    “What’s the password?” Hermione hissed.

    “We won’t need it,” Harry said. He held out his hand, touched the phoenix statue, and it sprung to life. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stepped onto the moving stairway and ascended. Harry felt a thrill of foreboding as the statue came to a halt, and he knocked with the brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. After a few moments the doors creaked open, and Harry saw Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk, with, to Harry’s horror, Professor Snape standing next to him.

    “Ah, you’ve finally arrived,” Dumbledore said with a smile, his blue eyes twinkling. Harry was surprised that Dumbledore’s eyes had that familiar twinkle again. “Dear me, where are my manners.” He waved his wand, and three squishy chintz chairs appeared in front of his desk. The three of them sat down, not looking away from Professor Dumbledore.

    “Comfortable?”

    “Yes, sir,” Ron said at once.

    “Very good. Now then, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I have summoned you to this office? I have called you here for two reasons, both of which I wish of you to mark very carefully. You have had a disastrously close encounter with Lady Malagar this summer, yes?” They remained quiet.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how dangerous she is, and I wish for you to consider her as dangerous as Lord Voldemort. I also know that you, Miss Granger, have the Book of Light in your possession. I scarcely need to emphasize that you must guard that as fiercely as possible. You alone can be guardian, as you took it from the pedestal.”

    “Perhaps we should hurry, lest someone notice their absence,” Professor Snape hissed.

    “You are quite right, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “I have underestimated you three before, and I intend to correct my mistakes. I will tell you openly as much as I can, so to put you on your guard.” Dumbledore took a deep breath, and plunged on. “The Book of Light contains incantations and spells beyond your reckoning as students, but it’s main purpose is to protect the Tome of Shadows. The Tome of Shadows is an ancient spell book; in fact it is the oldest and most powerful magical artifact ever created by wizard kind, not because of the incantations, but because of the story it tells. It tells of the first spell, the discovery of magic, and therefore allows the reader unprecedented access to the nature of our powers.”

    “This knowledge was recorded by Furmat, a powerful Dark witch of ancient Egypt. She then crafted spells of immense power, and quickly ascended to control over Egypt. She wrote the book while pursuing something of greater power even than the Tome, that would ensure her immortality. She failed, of course, and was killed when attacking a young wizard and his lover. After that, the book was kept in her tomb, and the young wizard created the Book of Light to ensure that only those pure of heart could possess the Tome of Shadows.” Dumbledore stood up from his desk, and gazed at them over his half-moon spectacles. “The Tome is missing, as you well know. It was moved some time ago once it was discovered that it held the keys to obtaining immortality. However, the one that moved it has kept that secret silent, and is now bound by magic to never tell. The answer, however, is in the Book of Light, which has added pages since the Tome of Shadows was moved. Therefore it is down to you three to figure out where the Tome of Shadows is.”

    “Blimey!” Ron muttered. “But sir...we’re only sixth years!”

    “Indeed, Mr. Weasley. However, only Miss Granger can touch and read the Book of Light. It is unfortunate, but I believe that you three can do it.”

    “But how does finding the Tome of Shadows help us, sir?” Harry asked.

“Why not destroy the Book of Light so Voldemort can’t find the Tome of Shadows?”

    “The thought has occurred to me, Harry,” Dumbledore said, his fingers folded in front of him. “But the Book cannot be destroyed. Neither can the Tome. And, more importantly, it is imperative that we find the last object in the magical chain before Lord Voldemort, for it is that object that will allow us to defeat him.” Harry didn’t respond; he knew Dumbledore was acting in front of Ron and Hermione. It was not ‘us’ that would defeat Lord Voldemort; he, Harry, would be dead before that could happen.

    “But sir,” Hermione said. Dumbledore looked at her patiently. “We’re safe at Hogwarts, aren’t we?”

    “Hogwarts is indeed safer than anywhere else, but that does not make it completely impenetrable. You’ve seen before that there are those that can get past its defenses; Sirius, Barty Crouch Jr., Lucius Malfoy. We all have to be more on guard than before.” Dumbledore looked sternly at each of them, and then continued.

    “Good. To the next call of business. You all are to be inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.” Harry, who had been staring at his feet, snapped his head up in attention. He wasn’t sure he heard Dumbledore correctly.

    “What?”

    “Yes. You all are to be inducted into the Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore repeated. “You three have proven yourselves equal to tasks many wizards and witches will never even dream of facing. Therefore, I’ve decided to have you three become members of the Order.”

    “And what...what does that mean, exactly?” Ron asked.

    “We will not put you into grave danger,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “We are not completely ignorant of the fact that you’re only sixteen. And seventeen, Miss Granger,” he added with a nod. “You will be privy to the information involved in being members of the Order, and from time to time we will be asking you to perform certain tasks that will greatly assist the Order.” Harry looked at Ron, who looked slightly pale, at Hermione, who had a slightly surprised look on her face. He didn’t know how he felt about this; on one hand, he was surprised Dumbledore was finally being up-front and honest and giving them real responsibilities. On the other hand, being a member of the Order sounded very, very dangerous.

    “Now then,” Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. “We’ve run out of time, and we must get to the feast waiting for us. I will be sending you a message that will detail when your induction is to take place. It will be written in Phoenix Code, a code readable only to those who are members of the Order. You’ll know when you receive it. Each one of you will get a message. Now then, Harry, Ron, head down to the feast. Professor Snape and I need a few more words with Miss Granger here.” Harry cast Hermione an odd look, but she was staring intently at Professor Dumbledore. Ron tapped him on the shoulder and they exited the office.

    “That was weird,” Ron said shakily. “We’re supposed to be members of the Order? Don’t you think we’re a bit young for that?”

    “I think so too,” Harry agreed. “But at least we’ll be getting information.”

    “But do you think it wise?” Ron pursued as they walked down the corridor.

    “I don’t know. Maybe we are ready for it,” Harry said. “But we can’t talk about it anymore.” They entered the Great Hall amidst tons of chatter. The both of them were looking at the center of the hall, where an old, tattered hat was perched. Professor McGonagall was rolling up a long piece of parchment, and Harry figured that she had just concluded this year’s sorting. He sat down next to Neville, who was in an intense discussion with Ginny.

    “I don’t think I should, I really don’t think I’m good enough,” Neville was saying.

    “Rubbish,” Ginny hissed. “You’ve done it before, you were great. Just give it a go, what’s the harm in trying?”

    “I might embarrass myself,” Neville said sheepishly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

    “You have such little self-confidence, it’s really ridiculous. You are good enough, I’m telling you that you are good enough. I’m signing you up, that’s it.”

    “For what?” Harry asked curiously. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Neville shushed her.

    “Nothing, just...but it’s not important.”

    “He wants to try out for Quidditch,” Ginny said loudly before Neville could quiet her.    

    “Excellent!” Ron said on the other side of Harry despite the offended look on Neville’s face.

    “Really Neville, that’s brilliant!” Harry said. “You tried out last year and you were great. You going for Beater or Chaser?” Neville turned red.

    “Chaser,” Ginny said, glaring at Neville. “Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal, you’re just trying out. You’re not applying to be Minister of...” Ginny turned scarlet and turned her attention to her food. Ron looked as if he had quite lost his appetite.

    “Come on, Neville, just try. It’s like Ginny said, what’s the harm in trying out?” Harry said hastily, changing the subject.

    “Well, I...” The doors to the Great Hall opened and Dumbledore, Snape, and Hermione strode in. Hermione rushed over to the Gryffindor table, while Snape and Dumbledore made their way to the professors’ table. Harry scanned the table and, much to his surprise, he saw Mrs. Weasley talking to Professor Flitwick.

    “Ron, what’s your mum doing up there?” Harry asked.

    “Hmm?” Ron said, distracted.

    “Your mother,” Harry repeated, nodding towards the table. Ron looked up, and his jaw dropped. His face turned deep scarlet.

    “What the hell is she doing here?” Ron asked, sounding scandalized.

    “She...it looks like...” Hermione started to say. “There are no other new people up there...she must be...” But what she was Hermione didn’t say, because Professor Dumbledore had stood up.

    “Welcome to another year,” Dumbledore said cheerily. Everyone looked up from their plates of food, slightly annoyed that Dumbledore chose during the feast to make his speech, but they fell silent nonetheless. “As always, I must repeat a few of our school rules at the request of our caretaker Mr. Filch, who insists that I reinforce the following. First, the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, out of bounds, to anyone and everyone, including our older students. Second, the list of banned items has now reached a Hogwarts record high of one thousand and twenty-eight items, all of which are posted in Mr. Filch’s office, and can be perused at your leisure. Thirdly, Quidditch tryouts will be held on the first weekend of the term, so as to not interfere with classes. Also, a special announcement of great interest to the faculty.” The alertness in the hall peaked after Dumbledore spoke these words. He cleared his throat and continued.

    “We will be entertaining a few guests from the Durmstrang Institute of Magic this year, most notably their new Headmistress, Madam Darla Alygma. She is coming at my invitation, and while she and her associates are here I expect all of you to be as courteous and cooperative as you have been in the past. I need not remind you all that in these dark times any friend is a welcome friend.” Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and Professor Dumbledore smiled.

    “Just one more announcement before we continue our excellent feast. I am pleased to introduce Mrs. Molly Weasley as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Harry’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t help but look at Ron, who looked as if he was choking.

    “I didn’t know your mother was a teacher!” Harry said, clapping with the rest of the school. Mrs. Weasley was turning slightly red, and she sat down, looking embarrassed but pleased with herself.

    “Neither did I,” Ron choked out. Harry took a quick look at Ginny, who was clapping, but not looking pleased.

    “Why didn’t she tell us?” Ginny asked.

    “Probably because she thought it would be weird,” Hermione said. “I didn’t know your mother was really good at Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

    “Why wouldn’t she be?” Ron asked, looking slightly aggrieved.

    “I didn’t...I didn’t mean it like that,” Hermione said quickly.

    “Ron, shut up, you know she wasn’t trying to offend,” Ginny said waspishly. They turned back to the feast, but Ron had clearly lost his appetite; he was poking at his food, muttering to himself about how his family had gone natters.

    “So, are you going to tell us about your meeting with Dumbledore?” Harry asked Hermione quietly. Ron looked aside slightly, as if he was only vaguely interested in what Hermione had to say.

    “Oh, nothing, just discussing my classes,” Hermione said evenly.

    “Just your classes?” Harry repeated in disbelief.

    “Yes,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m not using a Time Turner again,” she added with a smile. Harry met Ron’s eyes, and returned to his food. He knew Hermione well enough to know that she was keeping a secret.

    “How come you’re not eating, Ron?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

    “I’m not feeling well,” Ron said, pushing his plate away. “I’m going to head upstairs. He walked up the corridor, bumping accidentally into Terry Boot in the process, and then exited the Great Hall.

    “You reckon we should go talk to him?” Hermione asked worriedly.

    “No. I think he just needs some time alone,” Harry said. He took a swig of pumpkin juice and, when the plates finally cleared.

    “First years, this way,” he called.

***

    Harry was sitting in his four-poster bed, listening to the gentle snoring of roommates while reading through his Animagus book. He flicked the pages idly, watching the picture of a wizard turning into hummingbird, and then back again. He was restless, and he closed the book in frustration and strode over to the window. He watched as a light breeze ruffled the tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He could vaguely see the clearing where Sirius was buried. Harry sighed, and closed his eyes. He missed Sirius very much, it was like a constant heartache. He opened his eyes again, and gave a start of surprise.

    A black dog was walking slowly out of the trees.

    Harry could scarcely believe his eyes. It was just the shadows playing tricks on him, it couldn’t possibly be Sirius. Wormtail used the Avada Kedavra, there was no way Sirius could still be alive. And yet the dog looked very real, looked just like Sirius. Harry quickly ran over to Ron’s bed and prodded him sharply in the side.

    “WHAT?” Ron yelled.

    “Sssh!” Harry hissed. “Come here, I need to show you something.”

    “Not tonight,” Ron moaned, but Harry prodded him sharply again.

    “Yes, now, while it’s still out there,” Harry whispered. He dragged Ron out of bed and thrust him in front of the window.

    “What am I looking for?” Ron asked groggily. Harry looked and saw the black dog still prowling at the edge of the forest. It attempted to move forward, but it hopped backwards, growling.

    “The black dog, don’t you see it?” Ron looked at Harry, looking slightly alarmed.

    “There’s no black dog down there, Harry.”

    “Yes there is, right at the edge,” Harry insisted.

    “No, there’s not. Maybe...maybe you need to get some sleep.” Ron turned, and, taking one last look out the window and shaking his head, he got back into bed. Harry looked outside and saw the dog slip back into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. Feeling confused, he crept back into bed, wondering just why he could see the dog, but Ron could not.