Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the east wing of Hogwarts
Chapter 2
July 7th – Dursley residence – the smallest bedroom
The more Harry read, the angrier he got. Sirius held his word and sent many books from his hiding place. It was not the blatant imbalance between the rights of the Muggleborn and the rights of Purebloods, nor was it the wealth of information that was being withheld from him by someone (Dumbledore or Fudge came to his mind); no, it was the absolute no-chance someone like Hermione had in this Wizarding world. According to these Books, she would never reach a higher level in the Ministry of Magic and every business decision (if she were to open a shop) would have to be open to review by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. According to the self-updating “Who’s who in the Ministry”, the woman who occupied the post right now was one of the more outspoken supporters of a Pureblood Doctrine. She had made many of the Laws that made “Creatures” suffer a poor life. In addition, it seemed like she counted Muggleborn Witches and Wizards among the “Creatures”.
On the other hand – there were many useful bylaws and regulations, which would make it easier to reach Harry’s goals. That was something not to be discarded easily – like a more naïve Harry would have done – but it reminded Harry too much of a trap. A trap that caught many other Witches and Wizards; regardless of how careful they seemed to use these laws in the beginning. Considering his personal experiences, Harry had learned one thing at the Dursleys: mistakes happen – whether you want to or not!
However, these regulations were useful. “Memories are evidence in court” was one of the regulations; “Any Wizard had to be heard in court” was another. Veritaserum was the crutch of the Wizengamot, when a Wizard was not instructed in the ways of Mind Magic. Legilimency, though, was frowned upon. That was another reason for Harry’s anger. “Ways of the magic mind” stated (quite convincingly) that one could not learn Occlumency without a Legilimens’ present to guide the budding Occlumens’ through the process. So what was one to do, when the last Legilimens’ had died out? Well, welcome to Wizarding Britain.
Then Harry opened a new book. It was another of these old things. “Long forgotten Magic” was its title. Harry pulled his “Legal”-pamphlet out to find more information about the book. “What?!? Lifetime sentence in Azkaban for reading? Dementors Kiss for possessing? What is in there?” When he read it, he was disappointed. Just some murmurs about some magic users from the age of the Founders. Why’d you get Life for that; or a Dementors Kiss? The next he book was even stranger. “True wandless Magic”. No Author. Lifetime for reading, Kiss for possessing, too. It held many interesting things inside and the quotation “To a Mage, nothing is impossible.” Could they speak of the same phenomenon?
Who else would know of this? Maybe the old pureblood families did. At least Riddle did not, and he prided himself on his long history. So, why doesn’t he use this? Then, he did. During his struggle, Riddle managed to push Harry off for a few times. No shield would protect Harry from the pushbacks. However, he didn’t do more than that. There were no precise effects, just a terrified Riddle lashing out. ‘Strange’, Harry thought. So, what about the Malfoys? Harry pulled “Wizarding Genealogy” to him and read, “Young Wizarding family, originating from France in the 1700’s. Moved to Great Britain in the 1830s during the second French Revolution.” O.k., they are not an old Family, just old enough to marry into the Black Family Line. What a prestigious marriage. Now, there’s Draco. Harry had to grin as he shut the books. It was time for gardening.
July 7th, afternoon – The Garden
Harry smiled. Of all the things the Dursleys could choose for a chore, they chose the thing he liked. When he sat down besides the Flowerbeds, carefully caring about the flowers and bushes he felt sensitive for his inner self. He could feel his magic pulsing with his Heartbeat. He felt the small dollop of magic moving into the flowers, making them grow beautifully. He could almost hear a distant roar deep underground and his thoughts and ideas were – he knew that sounded ridiculous – strolling around leisurely in his head. It was peaceful. It felt like Susan: deep and powerful without aggression. He felt he could almost see her. At times like these, Harry had the best ideas. In front of his mind’s eye, a creation took form. Harry smiled.
Later, an intruder by the azalea bush caught his senses. When he heard the sniff, he knew it was Remus. He was the only one getting a scent of him with his nose – not with a spell. He didn’t let himself be distracted. Favourite teacher or not, he was in his trance. It was too beautiful there to acknowledge some spy on his life. Maybe baggy clothes weren’t that bad – at least if you wanted to conceal the tensing of his muscles preparing to fight. It was almost as if he felt the disturbance in the magic. Was that the Werewolf curse? How did the other wizards feel? Sirius books just might become helpful… Now, how to get Dinner?
Before Harry knew, a routine developed.
July 10th, evening – Harrys room
Harry didn’t need to spread his magic senses to know that someone spied on him tonight. The snoring was a sure-fire indicator on its own. Half an hour later, a godfather embraced his godson.
‘I see you’ve put the books I sent to good use.’ Sirius said while looking around. His books lay around Harry’s room.
‘Do you ever bother to clean up?’
All he got for an answer was a glare, ‘Yes mum, occasionally I do clean up my room. For your information, at this time of the evening the Dursleys leave me completely for my own devices. Therefore, I know I’ll be alone for the evening. Usually before I go to sleep, I secure your books. Not by much, but there you are.’
‘Relax, Harry’ Sirius said ‘I know. I just wanted to crack a joke. Now, what did you gather from the books?’
‘That there were different classes of Wizards?’
Sirius was incredulous. ‘No Harry, that’s wrong. A Wizard would never call a Mage just a different class of Wizard. And from what I gathered never would a Mage consent to be called a Wizard.’
‘Do you mean they were enemies?’
‘Sure as hell they were enemies.’
Sirius pulled out a book from his coat. ‘This is the oldest book in my family, Harry. I want you to read it, but only if you hear the snoring outside. Because then Mundungus Fletcher is guarding you. And you know what that means.’
‘Yes, Paddy. Then I know that nobody else is watching me. Especially no one with a jumpy eye…’
‘That’s my boy, Harry. I meant exactly that.’
Sirius fetched another two items from his cloak. ‘This Pocketknife opens any Lock you hold it against. This is one of two two-way-mirrors. You say my name and my mirror vibrates. If you want to talk with your girlfriend, I could make two more, just for you and Susan,’ Sirius waggled his eyebrows.
Harrys smile threatened to split his face in two. ‘Could you do that, Sirius? Pretty please?’
Sirius laughed. ‘O.k., o.k. you’ll get them’, and received a Molly-Weasley-hug from his godson.
‘Now the reason why I gave you these items is that I have to go away for a time. I have to travel mainland Europe for, I guess, at least two weeks. I got this job from the old crowd. When something dangerous happens, I want you to use these mirrors. I’ll come as fast as I can then. I’ll call you otherwise.’
Harry grew sombre. ‘Sirius, I have to tell you something too. Since you sent me the books, I’ve been trying to flex my magical muscles. I can now almost feel magic things happening. Not much, but I feel apparition, or when someone magical climbs over the fence. Moreover, I’ve been getting an almost cautioning feeling from my magic. I have dreams… they’re not nice. I want to prepare, even if I don’t know for what. I see the Ministry in the dreams. It’s the same dream the last two nights. That and the articles… Sirius, could you give me a permanent portkey to the Ministry for me? I sense I need to be there.’
Sirius looks suspicious. ‘Why to the Ministry, Harry? Don’t you know they can detect the caster of a spell, especially on a permanent portkey? Please be careful, cause when they catch you…
‘But I won’t deny you that portkey, when the reason for me to involve myself in your life has come from my dreams too.’
He pulled out his wand and touched one of the plastic soldiers with it. ‘Portus. Please take your invisibility cloak with you. Will you do that at least, Harry?’
‘Of course, Sirius’, Harry nodded. ‘I’m not that reckless.’
The rest were hugs and good-byes.
July 10th – night, Ministry of Magic
When Harry appeared in the main area of the ministry he heard – absolutely nothing. There was a single desk in front of him, but that was unoccupied – at least for the moment. He tried to stretch his senses but could detect nothing. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough…
“Ding”
Harry started. He rushed to the elevators, but was cautious enough not to make too much noise. His heart started to race. The other lift was becoming louder, then quieter. There was no telling when it would arrive. Finally, he stood in the cabin and managed to close the gates very silently. Then the cabin lurched away and Harry almost crashed against the gates. Just a quick grab to the brass bar circling the interior prevented worse from happening. Harry flattened against the wall. He didn’t push any button – or do these lifts react on intent? Harry hoped they didn’t.
The ride was something else. It wasn’t as wild as the ride to his vault, but not as harmless as a muggle lift. Up and down, it went, right and left – at one point he was upside down, at another he was lying down. Harry could swear he passed some points twice. Honestly, what was it with wizards and transportation? Don’t they travel leisurely? Then Harry thought of his target – and the ride seemed to become smoother. At last, he reached his destination. Luck was with him – a young witch with pink hair stood in front of the gates. Which opened and Harry took the opportunity to leave the lift, without bumping into the witch.
He looked around the floor. One of the signs he saw was “Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement”. Another was “Cafeteria”. Another held the inscription of “Master Auror”. Just great, he was where he didn’t want to be. He wanted information, not prosecution. He tiptoed back to the lift and called it. No one was in it when he entered. Harry looked down the plate beside the knobs and read. And lo’ and behold there was a knob with the inscription “Magical Archives” right next to it. Harry pushed the button.
Luckily, the ride wasn’t as wild as the first one. When the lift came to a standstill, Harry couldn’t detect anyone in close proximity. He cautiously opened the gate and sneaked to the First Door. The sign next to it proclaimed “Magical Personnel of Britannia” and Harry tried to enter. Of course, somebody had locked the door. However, Harry had Sirius’ knife with him. “It’s time to test this,” Harry thought. When the knife touched the lock Harry could hear a silent “click”. Now he could open that door.
When Harry opened the Door, he got the full stench of bureaucracy. An air so dry, so filled with paper dust and secrecy, with hidden skeletons and incompetent decisions, he nearly had to cough. The room was larger on the in-, than on the outside. Two rows of File cabinets stood on each side, going on for at least a mile, leaving just enough space for two people to squeeze by themselves. If Harry was caught here, he couldn’t bolt. Even if his sense of Danger was going haywire, Harry was here to collect information and wouldn’t leave before he got it.
He looked to the plates on the drawers and found the plate he was looking for: “Dow – Dun”. Then he opened it, cautiously. Who knew if the drawers squeaked, or worse…
But the information about one Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian was worth every suspense.
July 7th – Dursley residence – the smallest bedroom
The more Harry read, the angrier he got. Sirius held his word and sent many books from his hiding place. It was not the blatant imbalance between the rights of the Muggleborn and the rights of Purebloods, nor was it the wealth of information that was being withheld from him by someone (Dumbledore or Fudge came to his mind); no, it was the absolute no-chance someone like Hermione had in this Wizarding world. According to these Books, she would never reach a higher level in the Ministry of Magic and every business decision (if she were to open a shop) would have to be open to review by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. According to the self-updating “Who’s who in the Ministry”, the woman who occupied the post right now was one of the more outspoken supporters of a Pureblood Doctrine. She had made many of the Laws that made “Creatures” suffer a poor life. In addition, it seemed like she counted Muggleborn Witches and Wizards among the “Creatures”.
On the other hand – there were many useful bylaws and regulations, which would make it easier to reach Harry’s goals. That was something not to be discarded easily – like a more naïve Harry would have done – but it reminded Harry too much of a trap. A trap that caught many other Witches and Wizards; regardless of how careful they seemed to use these laws in the beginning. Considering his personal experiences, Harry had learned one thing at the Dursleys: mistakes happen – whether you want to or not!
However, these regulations were useful. “Memories are evidence in court” was one of the regulations; “Any Wizard had to be heard in court” was another. Veritaserum was the crutch of the Wizengamot, when a Wizard was not instructed in the ways of Mind Magic. Legilimency, though, was frowned upon. That was another reason for Harry’s anger. “Ways of the magic mind” stated (quite convincingly) that one could not learn Occlumency without a Legilimens’ present to guide the budding Occlumens’ through the process. So what was one to do, when the last Legilimens’ had died out? Well, welcome to Wizarding Britain.
Then Harry opened a new book. It was another of these old things. “Long forgotten Magic” was its title. Harry pulled his “Legal”-pamphlet out to find more information about the book. “What?!? Lifetime sentence in Azkaban for reading? Dementors Kiss for possessing? What is in there?” When he read it, he was disappointed. Just some murmurs about some magic users from the age of the Founders. Why’d you get Life for that; or a Dementors Kiss? The next he book was even stranger. “True wandless Magic”. No Author. Lifetime for reading, Kiss for possessing, too. It held many interesting things inside and the quotation “To a Mage, nothing is impossible.” Could they speak of the same phenomenon?
Who else would know of this? Maybe the old pureblood families did. At least Riddle did not, and he prided himself on his long history. So, why doesn’t he use this? Then, he did. During his struggle, Riddle managed to push Harry off for a few times. No shield would protect Harry from the pushbacks. However, he didn’t do more than that. There were no precise effects, just a terrified Riddle lashing out. ‘Strange’, Harry thought. So, what about the Malfoys? Harry pulled “Wizarding Genealogy” to him and read, “Young Wizarding family, originating from France in the 1700’s. Moved to Great Britain in the 1830s during the second French Revolution.” O.k., they are not an old Family, just old enough to marry into the Black Family Line. What a prestigious marriage. Now, there’s Draco. Harry had to grin as he shut the books. It was time for gardening.
July 7th, afternoon – The Garden
Harry smiled. Of all the things the Dursleys could choose for a chore, they chose the thing he liked. When he sat down besides the Flowerbeds, carefully caring about the flowers and bushes he felt sensitive for his inner self. He could feel his magic pulsing with his Heartbeat. He felt the small dollop of magic moving into the flowers, making them grow beautifully. He could almost hear a distant roar deep underground and his thoughts and ideas were – he knew that sounded ridiculous – strolling around leisurely in his head. It was peaceful. It felt like Susan: deep and powerful without aggression. He felt he could almost see her. At times like these, Harry had the best ideas. In front of his mind’s eye, a creation took form. Harry smiled.
Later, an intruder by the azalea bush caught his senses. When he heard the sniff, he knew it was Remus. He was the only one getting a scent of him with his nose – not with a spell. He didn’t let himself be distracted. Favourite teacher or not, he was in his trance. It was too beautiful there to acknowledge some spy on his life. Maybe baggy clothes weren’t that bad – at least if you wanted to conceal the tensing of his muscles preparing to fight. It was almost as if he felt the disturbance in the magic. Was that the Werewolf curse? How did the other wizards feel? Sirius books just might become helpful… Now, how to get Dinner?
Before Harry knew, a routine developed.
July 10th, evening – Harrys room
Harry didn’t need to spread his magic senses to know that someone spied on him tonight. The snoring was a sure-fire indicator on its own. Half an hour later, a godfather embraced his godson.
‘I see you’ve put the books I sent to good use.’ Sirius said while looking around. His books lay around Harry’s room.
‘Do you ever bother to clean up?’
All he got for an answer was a glare, ‘Yes mum, occasionally I do clean up my room. For your information, at this time of the evening the Dursleys leave me completely for my own devices. Therefore, I know I’ll be alone for the evening. Usually before I go to sleep, I secure your books. Not by much, but there you are.’
‘Relax, Harry’ Sirius said ‘I know. I just wanted to crack a joke. Now, what did you gather from the books?’
‘That there were different classes of Wizards?’
Sirius was incredulous. ‘No Harry, that’s wrong. A Wizard would never call a Mage just a different class of Wizard. And from what I gathered never would a Mage consent to be called a Wizard.’
‘Do you mean they were enemies?’
‘Sure as hell they were enemies.’
Sirius pulled out a book from his coat. ‘This is the oldest book in my family, Harry. I want you to read it, but only if you hear the snoring outside. Because then Mundungus Fletcher is guarding you. And you know what that means.’
‘Yes, Paddy. Then I know that nobody else is watching me. Especially no one with a jumpy eye…’
‘That’s my boy, Harry. I meant exactly that.’
Sirius fetched another two items from his cloak. ‘This Pocketknife opens any Lock you hold it against. This is one of two two-way-mirrors. You say my name and my mirror vibrates. If you want to talk with your girlfriend, I could make two more, just for you and Susan,’ Sirius waggled his eyebrows.
Harrys smile threatened to split his face in two. ‘Could you do that, Sirius? Pretty please?’
Sirius laughed. ‘O.k., o.k. you’ll get them’, and received a Molly-Weasley-hug from his godson.
‘Now the reason why I gave you these items is that I have to go away for a time. I have to travel mainland Europe for, I guess, at least two weeks. I got this job from the old crowd. When something dangerous happens, I want you to use these mirrors. I’ll come as fast as I can then. I’ll call you otherwise.’
Harry grew sombre. ‘Sirius, I have to tell you something too. Since you sent me the books, I’ve been trying to flex my magical muscles. I can now almost feel magic things happening. Not much, but I feel apparition, or when someone magical climbs over the fence. Moreover, I’ve been getting an almost cautioning feeling from my magic. I have dreams… they’re not nice. I want to prepare, even if I don’t know for what. I see the Ministry in the dreams. It’s the same dream the last two nights. That and the articles… Sirius, could you give me a permanent portkey to the Ministry for me? I sense I need to be there.’
Sirius looks suspicious. ‘Why to the Ministry, Harry? Don’t you know they can detect the caster of a spell, especially on a permanent portkey? Please be careful, cause when they catch you…
‘But I won’t deny you that portkey, when the reason for me to involve myself in your life has come from my dreams too.’
He pulled out his wand and touched one of the plastic soldiers with it. ‘Portus. Please take your invisibility cloak with you. Will you do that at least, Harry?’
‘Of course, Sirius’, Harry nodded. ‘I’m not that reckless.’
The rest were hugs and good-byes.
July 10th – night, Ministry of Magic
When Harry appeared in the main area of the ministry he heard – absolutely nothing. There was a single desk in front of him, but that was unoccupied – at least for the moment. He tried to stretch his senses but could detect nothing. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough…
“Ding”
Harry started. He rushed to the elevators, but was cautious enough not to make too much noise. His heart started to race. The other lift was becoming louder, then quieter. There was no telling when it would arrive. Finally, he stood in the cabin and managed to close the gates very silently. Then the cabin lurched away and Harry almost crashed against the gates. Just a quick grab to the brass bar circling the interior prevented worse from happening. Harry flattened against the wall. He didn’t push any button – or do these lifts react on intent? Harry hoped they didn’t.
The ride was something else. It wasn’t as wild as the ride to his vault, but not as harmless as a muggle lift. Up and down, it went, right and left – at one point he was upside down, at another he was lying down. Harry could swear he passed some points twice. Honestly, what was it with wizards and transportation? Don’t they travel leisurely? Then Harry thought of his target – and the ride seemed to become smoother. At last, he reached his destination. Luck was with him – a young witch with pink hair stood in front of the gates. Which opened and Harry took the opportunity to leave the lift, without bumping into the witch.
He looked around the floor. One of the signs he saw was “Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement”. Another was “Cafeteria”. Another held the inscription of “Master Auror”. Just great, he was where he didn’t want to be. He wanted information, not prosecution. He tiptoed back to the lift and called it. No one was in it when he entered. Harry looked down the plate beside the knobs and read. And lo’ and behold there was a knob with the inscription “Magical Archives” right next to it. Harry pushed the button.
Luckily, the ride wasn’t as wild as the first one. When the lift came to a standstill, Harry couldn’t detect anyone in close proximity. He cautiously opened the gate and sneaked to the First Door. The sign next to it proclaimed “Magical Personnel of Britannia” and Harry tried to enter. Of course, somebody had locked the door. However, Harry had Sirius’ knife with him. “It’s time to test this,” Harry thought. When the knife touched the lock Harry could hear a silent “click”. Now he could open that door.
When Harry opened the Door, he got the full stench of bureaucracy. An air so dry, so filled with paper dust and secrecy, with hidden skeletons and incompetent decisions, he nearly had to cough. The room was larger on the in-, than on the outside. Two rows of File cabinets stood on each side, going on for at least a mile, leaving just enough space for two people to squeeze by themselves. If Harry was caught here, he couldn’t bolt. Even if his sense of Danger was going haywire, Harry was here to collect information and wouldn’t leave before he got it.
He looked to the plates on the drawers and found the plate he was looking for: “Dow – Dun”. Then he opened it, cautiously. Who knew if the drawers squeaked, or worse…
But the information about one Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian was worth every suspense.
Sign up to rate and review this story