Chapter Thirty-Nine
I floated behind Harry, as we made our way towards the Black House's library.
"Kreacher cleaned the house," I remarked.
Harry nodded. "He's happy to be of service," he said softly.
"Oh?"
Harry looked a bit uncomfortable. "I did as you said. Said 'thank you'. He was surprised. Then he did what you told me to tell him, and then a week later he did all of this."
The house was sparkling clean. There wasn't a smudge of dust anywhere.
"Did you receive any visits?" I asked.
Harry shook his head. "No. I mean, I think someone tried to come by, but Kreacher didn't let them in. Said they weren't allowed."
I hummed. "Well, that's good, I suppose. Now," I looked around. "What have you been doing for the most part? Practicing magic?"
Harry flushed. "A bit," he acquiesced. "There are a lot of books around here."
"Oh, I see," I nodded. The library did indeed have many, many, many books. "So, what spells have you learned?"
"Cleaning charms," Harry said. "And how to repair my glasses," he added.
I gave him a long look.
Harry fidgeted a bit under my stare. "I...shouldn't have?"
"You will need to learn how to protect yourself," I replied calmly, as calmly as I could. "You might not need it in the long run, of course, but it is better to be prepared. How fares the patronus?"
Harry grinned. "I got it down, all of it!"
He proudly boasted, chest puffed out in pride. "And it's a stag like you said!"
"Good," I nodded. "At least that's something. Now," I hummed. "No one but a visitor turned away at the door, uh? Did you get yourself an owl?"
Harry blinked, and nodded. "Yeah, I called her-"
"Hedwig?"
Harry frowned. "How do you know that?"
"I know a lot of things," I replied calmly.
Harry furrowed his brow. "So?"
"So did you get a letter?"
"The Hogwarts acceptance one!" Harry said.
"And no others?"
Harry shook his head. "No. I should have?"
"Probably," I acquiesced. "I would have thought they'd written to you or something, to ask why you were here, or how you managed...well, never mind," I sighed. I floated towards the books. "Oh! 'One hundred and one curses to rupture your enemy's organs, by Rupturus Organus'. Now...that's a bit..."
Harry looked very uncomfortable.
"Relax, I'm not asking you to learn that. I'm just looking through the books' titles. Uhm 'How to murder muggles and get away with it, by Itwasn Mey'." I blinked. "Nah, that can't be..."
I floated a bit higher.
"Charms for the house, by Miranda Goshawk. Uh, she sounds familiar," I mumbled. "Funny how they keep all the normal magic books on the higher shelves, and all the dark and curse learning ones on the lower ones. Really, they had quite the screwed up sense for 'reading a book before going to bed'. Get the ladder, this seems promising 'Defensive Charms, the Protego is your friend' by Turtlus...Turtley? Do wizards really have these strange names?"
I had to repress a chuckle as I floated a bit to the side. "And this one 'How to survive a Death Eater attack' by ...this is truly impossible... Cowardus Runnus? Who the hell calls his son 'Cowardus Runnus'? Who?"
Harry frowned, and quietly pushed the ladder to where I pointed him.
"And then this one," I said, "Constant Vigilance, by...Grandastor Moody? Must be Alastor's father. Didn't know he had one, but still," I mumbled. "Uhm...Oh! And this one," Harry bristled as he piled book after book on the table in the library.
"I have to read all of them?" Harry asked in the end, staring at the pile.
"No," I replied. "You have to learn them," I added. "Consider this: your enemy's minions can cast bowel rupturing curses that will kill you if they hit you even once," I looked at him, and he paled. "Now, ask yourself this question 'better if I know how to protect me' or 'better if I just ignore the issue and cry in a corner as people around me die trying to protect me'? Because that's the question you'll be asking yourself for the incoming years."
Harry looked down at the books. "If it's any consolation," I said calmly. "Tell me this doesn't beat being at the Dursley doing chores."
Grimacing, Harry picked up a book from the pile at random.
'How to Murder your Enemy, all while skiving the law' by Toeinth Eline.
Yeah, maybe that was a bit of a dark book.
Still, Harry didn't turn green at the first page, so that was progress, I suspected.
I crossed my arms over my chest as Harry read dutifully. The fact I was constantly hovering over his back meant pretty much that he couldn't skive off -and I was quick to realize when he tried to dally off or fake reading.
"You really want Voldemort to kill you, then?" I offhandedly asked as I caught him not turning the page after ten minutes.
It usually worked.
"You really want your parents' sacrifice to have been in vain?"
Yes, I surprised myself sometimes with how cruel I could be while giving pep-talks to eleven years old.
It didn't please me to do this.
At all.
But if he had to capture Pettigrew, then he was going to at least be able to face him off.
And then Harry practiced. He did what he could, really, but all children have limits.
Thankfully, I knew enough about tantrums from my brother's to...
I winced as the thought hit me.
I hadn't thought about that.
I hadn't thought about my family at all, had I?
I wonder what that made me, thinking about 'fixing things' around the worlds I visited when in fact I should be more worried about returning home. Were they worried?
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, and I blinked as I stared down at him from my spot.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You look...kind of down," Harry acquiesced.
"Just thinking about things," I replied quietly. "Things that might come, might not, and so on."
"Oh," Harry blinked. "You can see the future?"
I chuckled. "I saw the future, but now it's probably changed a lot. You go back to studying-"
Harry pouted. "I'm tired. I've been at this for hours."
"You need to reach the experience of a seventy years old wizard, in short time," I deadpanned. "And you're even lucky you have books. I want to see you practice spells until you can no longer stand. If you don't, you aren't going to survive the first year at all."
"But what's the point of being free from the Dursley if all you're making me do is study!?" Harry exclaimed, staring at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.
"Then what's the point of breathing, if we're all going to die in the end?" I retorted. "What's the point of walking, if you're going to end up frail, weak and old dying in a bed? Stop whining like a spoiled child," I hissed at him. "You got the short end of the stick, but that's it. You can either sharpen it and turn it into a weapon, or you can keep flailing it around crying until you no longer have it. You barely tasted freedom, Harry, and you already wish to give it away? To be free, you'll need power. To be free, you'll need cunning, wits, knowledge and everything that can aid you."
I gestured at the library around us, my eyes still fixed on the boy. "And you think freedom comes for free? Freedom is earned. Freedom is fought for. You will bleed and you will suffer in order to be free, Harry."
"But why me," Harry whimpered. "Why did it have to be me?"
"The God-Author hates you," I shrugged. "Just like the God-Author hates me."
Harry looked at me as if I'd grown a second head.
"Well, think positive. You at least have an afterlife to look forward to," I continued. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you do have one."
"Really?"
"Yes. There you go. I just solved a great mystery of life for you. You have an afterlife. Just never do a Horcrux and you'll be set for life."
"Horcrux?"
"Very dark stuff," I nodded. "Don't murder anyone and you'll be fine, or if you murder someone, then repent afterwards. Really, that's how it works. Love cures all, killing people is wrong, and who the hell cares Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix during the battle of Hogwarts."
"Who?" Harry frowned.
"No one important, yet." I shrugged. "Point of order is, laws can be bent, and reshaped, provided there is a good reason for it. Imperius is wrong, but it isn't if it's done on a Death Eater. Funny, uh? The Unforgivables are wrong, but they aren't, really, if the ministry approves using them against Death Eaters."
Harry brought a hand to his head, a light headache probably forming.
"Don't think too hard about it," I said. "You're young, cheerful, innocent...and we've got some time to make sure two out of three of those things disappear."
I grinned. "But think positive. You can still be cheerful when everything's over."
Ka-chink.
Harry gripped the sides of the book, and nodded softly.
There were no other bouts of rebellion from him after that.
None at all.
The day of departure, we appeared directly into the Hogwarts train station, thanks to Kreacher.
And Harry was already robed, his stuff already in the train thanks, once more, to the House Elf.
"Bye Kreacher," Harry said. "See you in Summer. Thanks again."
"Kreacher is glad he could help Master Regulus' brother's friend's son Harry Potter."
Really Kreacher, sometimes you try too hard to show how much you still feel disgust for Sirius. Saying 'Harry Potter' wouldn't hurt you.
Harry boarded the train, and I sighed. "Well, do you remember what I told you?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, I do. You told me again five minutes ago."
"Repeat it then," I said calmly.
Harry found an empty compartment, and closed the door.
"Go to the seventh floor, find the Room of Requirements. Use it to train. Go to the library, look out for books I don't have, check them out and train with them. Don't trust Quirrell, no matter what. If I end up in Slytherin, talk with Professor Snape without yelling. Show more of my mother's side than my father's. Don't look anyone in the eyes. Behave. No Quidditch." He droned on. "Do not acquire the philosopher's stone. Don't even look for it." He swallowed thickly. "Use power if people don't take me seriously."
"And?"
"And whatever happens, never lose my temper."
"And why is that?"
He grimaced. "Because tantrums make me look weak and childish. Because I need to be strong."
"And why is that?"
"So that I can be free."
I nodded.
"Good. Now, about Pettigrew," I looked at him.
"Tell Dumbledore. Tell Dumbledore about the Horcruxes, and about everything else," he winced. "Tell him that until all others are destroyed he will not know where the last one is. Don't look him in the eyes."
Harry shivered a bit.
"And?" I stressed.
"Ask him for the Invisibility cloak and- do I really have to do it?"
I looked at him and growled. "Do you want to live, Harry?"
"And then I must use it to acquire the password to the Slytherin common room if I'm not in Slytherin, find Draco and...do I have-"
"Ask it as many times as you like, it won't change," I drawled.
"I must send a message to his father through him," Harry finished. "But that's-"
"Harry."
"I mean, you can't expect me to do that."
"It's nothing permanent."
"You want me to carve a 'Deliver the Diary to Dumbledore or your son dies' on his face! I think that's pretty much permanent!" Harry shrilly hissed.
I shrugged. "He has the diary, and he might decide to use it another way now that the future has changed. We can't risk it. The others aren't at risk, since they don't have living guardians. And I know the only weakness Lucius has is his son," I hummed. "He'll do it."
"That's wrong," Harry whispered. "That's still something wrong to do," he added, shaking his head. "Why can't I just...scare him? Prank him?"
"Because you want to deliver a message," I retorted. "And the flesh of an offspring is the perfect chalkboard for it."
I blinked.
"No, wait a moment."
The flesh of an offspring is the perfect chalkboard?
Really?
I scratched the underside of my chin. "Scratch that part. All of it."
Harry exhaled in relief.
"I'm not really myself most of the time," I said softly. "The longer I stay, the darker the thoughts become. Really," I shook my head. "Still, this means the laws were merely mitigated, not removed. Listen, change of plans," I looked at him. "Keep on training and practicing, and speak to Dumbledore. The training is just in case that if things go south, you can survive on your own long enough for reinforcements."
Harry nodded.
"And remember, be mature, act mature, and whatever happens-"
"Keep my composure," Harry muttered.
Ka-chink.
I nodded. "Good."
The door rattled open with a huff, as a bushy brown haired girl entered, accompanied by a round-faced boy.
"Excuse me, have you seen a toad? Neville lost his."
Harry shook his head. "I haven't."
"Oh, well," and with that, Hermione Granger closed the door and walked away with Neville in tow.
"See? The miracle of holding a bit of hair over your forehead to hide your scar does wonders. Anyway, that was Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, both future Gryffindors. Now that they're gone, you can take out the book on History of Magic."
Harry dutifully obeyed.
A few minutes later, a blond-haired boy and two goons stepped inside.
"I heard Harry Potter was on this train."
Harry lowered his book. "Really? I haven't seen him yet. He might be further up."
"And who would you be?" Draco asked with a sniff.
"Jeremiah Armstrong," Harry replied and inwardly, I chuckled at my inside-out joke. "Half-Blood, if that's what you're about to ask, Malfoy Draco, isn't it? And those are Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, right?"
"You seem well informed, for a half-blood."
"I approve of your father, he's doing such great things for the wizard world," Harry said with a light grin. I'd taught him how to do that. The light grin that makes people think you're really honest even while insulting them.
"Well, you're an all-right sort of guy then," Draco replied. "Which house do you think you're going to end up in?"
"Slytherin," Harry said. "Professor Snape's a half-blood and he's the head of the house. I'm sure I can go far in Slytherin."
"Well, sure, why not, he's my godfather," Draco said proudly. "Slytherin is the best house there is after all."
"Really? Cool!" Harry gushed. "I want to read more of History of Magic, because I heard that the professor isn't really all that great, but I hope you find Harry Potter. I'm sure he'll love to be friends with someone as important as you!"
Draco's head probably inflated. Really. Only an idiot would fall for such a thing.
"See you in Slytherin, Armstrong."
Oh, you had no idea, Malfoy.
...
I chuckled.
And the door closed. "See? You strung him along and avoided anyone disturbing you. Now you can take out the book on jinxes."
"I could have always locked the door," Harry mumbled.
"It would have made them suspicious, and they would have knocked and kept up at it. This way, no risks...Armstrong."
"Where did you get that name anyway?" Harry asked.
"Oh, somewhere," I shrugged. "Don't worry about that," I added. "It's not like it's important."
We were heading towards Hogwarts, and I wasn't in pain or suffering, yet.
The train was going fast, the countryside disappearing all around us.
And I hummed.
The 'Dark' side had to be cunning then, if it made me 'less dumb' with being Evil.
I just hoped Voldemort wasn't smart.
If he was, Harry was screwed seven ways over.
And without butter.
//Prepare for extraction. This derailment is improbable. That seems a bit excessive even for my tastes.
