With Knowledge Came Help

Honestly, I don’t mind if you correct my mistakes. I might even go back and change them if they are glaringly incorrect. But for minor grammatical stuff, I usually leave it alone. I fully admit I am an amateur author, who does this for fun. I do strive to do better, but I am not trying for perfection.

Again, thanks for the reviews.

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“Expecto Patronum!” yelled Harry, trying his hardest to get a wisp of something to come out of his wand, and a small strand of white smoke did come out and form a shield in front of him. He had been working through happy memory, after happy memory. This one was about flying for the first time and how that made him feel.

“Excellent, Harry,” Remus said, glad he had used Harry’s method from the books. The last time, they didn’t get this far until further down the line. “That was a great deal of progress for a first lesson,” he said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

“It was the tenth try,” the boy protested, like he should have gotten it on the first try. He really felt he should have done better.

“Most grown men don’t even get this far, no matter how many times they try,” Remus said, looking him in the eyes to show how serious he was. “You are doing great,” he added, gripping the shoulder he was still holding. “Don’t push yourself so hard.”

“I’ll try,” Harry said, giving the other man a weak smile. He just wanted to impress the friend of his father.

“Sit a minute,” the werewolf said, indicating a chair.

Harry sat, wondering what the man wanted to talk about. He hoped it wasn’t because Hermione had tried to horn her way into the lessons. Boy, had she been mad when Mr. Lupin had told her no. She wasn’t used to people denying her the right to learn something. He knew he was going to hear about it when he got to the common room tonight. It was only when Mr. Lupin promised that Harry could teach it to her, that she backed off.

“I wanted to ask why you are holding back in class,” Remus said, softly. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he wanted Harry to do well in class.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Harry said, his eyes shifting from side to side. He didn’t think anyone had noticed.

“Harry, I just saw you perform what most men can’t. I know you can do better than most. So, why is your work in class only average? That and I’ve talked to your other professors, and all, but one, say that they think you are not doing your best,” the other man asked, leaning forward a bit, peering into the child’s eyes. “Is it because of your friends? Or your relatives?” he asked as soft as before.

“Well,” Harry started only to stop. He swallowed hard and said, “My relatives don’t like me to do better then my cousin,” he confessed, looking nervous. “They never hit me or anything like that,” he added quickly, but then looked down. “They just accused me of cheating and such, or they would withhold meals.” He looked away and blushed, like he was embarrassed over some thing silly.

“Don’t worry, Harry. It is normal to want your relatives to be proud of you,” Remus said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “However, your relatives don’t care what your grades are here. You can do what you want. I know Petunia, and I’ll bet she won’t even ask. Besides, if Sirius has it his way, I’ll bet you never have to see them again. I know your parents would want you to do your best,” he said with a great deal of conviction.

“Maybe you’re right. Do you really think Sirius will get custody of me?” Harry asked, thinking this man would know better than he would. “I know he said I didn’t have to go back, but it’s hard to believe,” he said in a soft voice.

“I know he’s already had the wills read,” Remus said, knowing there was nothing anyone could do to stop Sirius from taking Harry home.

“That’s good,” Harry said with a great deal of relief. “Do you think Hermione would get jealous if I did better than her?” he wondered aloud. He didn’t want to fight with one of his only friends.

“If she does than she really wasn’t that good of a friend. Do you get jealous when she does better than you? No. You are happy for her,” the professor pointed out. “A true friend is happy for you when you are happy. Even if what makes them happy doesn’t make you happy.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Harry said, thinking that over.

“I was friends with every boy in my dorm room and we were all different,” Remus said, hoping Harry got the hint. “And quite a few of the girls my age,” he added with a wink.

“I like the kids in my dorm room too,” the teen said, wondering if he should spend more time learning about Neville, Seamus, and Dean. He seemed to spend all his time with Ron. It wouldn’t take much to include the others. Would it? He ignored the girl comment for now. Hermione was enough as a female friend.

“I was wondering if you would do me a favor,” Remus said, looking at the boy in front of him.

“Sure,” Harry said, his eyes on the man’s face as if firming his resolve.

“Can you teach Neville Longbottom the Patronus as well? I know you are going to teach Ron and Hermione, but I would like you to teach Neville and as many others as you can. I think that you would make more friends by spreading this spell around. You could make a club out of it. Teach it to others in different houses, or age groups, or some such,” the werewolf said, hoping the kid did that. “However, I would consider it a favor if you taught it to Neville, if no one else.”

“Why Neville?” Harry wanted to know. The other boy was painfully shy. He didn’t know if he could teach Neville. However, he would do his best to do just that.

“I knew his parents too,” Remus said, sadness in his eyes. “Not as well as yours, but I did know them.”

“What happened to them?” the teen asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

“That is not my story to tell,” Remus said with a small smile.

“Oh, okay. Sure, I’ll teach Neville.”

“Great. You’d better get going, it’s almost curfew,” the teacher said, shooing the teen along.

“Oops,” Harry said, grabbing his bag and hotfooting it out of the classroom.

Remus waved his wand and cleaned up the classroom and then made his way out of the room to the corridor. He then meandered to the seventh floor to the ROR. He paced the required three times asking for the diadem. He was hoping that it would produce a door with just a room and the diadem. A door did appear, and he opened it. Alas, when he opened the door there were twenty-five diadems on the floor. All of them were tainted, and they all looked old.

He had to sort through all of them and smell them to see if they were a horcrux. He narrowed it down to one, and it was the only one that said, ‘Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.’ So, he took it to be Rowena’s. He threw it in a bag and called Dobby.

“Master Remus is calling Dobby?” the elf asked when he popped in.

“Can you take this to Sirius?” the werewolf inquired, holding out the bag.

“Dobby can,” Dobby said, grabbing the bag and popping away.

“Well, that’s me done for the night,” Remus said, whistling as he journeyed back to his suite.

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Meanwhile, Sirius saw that Bill had finished book six. “Come on,” he said to the curse-breaker.

“Where are we going?” Bill asked, not at all put out that they were leaving so suddenly. He was quite used to it because of his line of work. It happened all the time with the goblins. They rarely made schedules when tomb raiding. It was all about when it was clear, not when it was time.

“We’re going to do a spot of graverobbing and get that ring horcrux,” Sirius said, looking at the younger man. “Do you need anything special?” he asked, hoping that his wand was all he needed.

“No, I’ve got my kit on me,” Bill said, patting his pocket where his shrunken kit was always at. It was always best to be prepared.

“Good, off too Little Hangleton,” the dogman said jovially as if they were going on a picnic.

“Do you know where it is?” Bill asked, wondering how they were going to get there.

“Nope, which is why we’re taking the Knight Bus,” Sirius said, holding out his wand to flag the bus down. He pulled back his hand just as the bus screeched to a stop, with a loud bang.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus…” was as far as Stan got when Sirius cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, here’s your fare, let us on,” he said, pushing a galleon into the conductor’s hand and pushing him aside.

“See here, now. There’s no need to be rude,” Stan said, making change and handing it to Bill. “Where too?” he asked Bill since he seemed to be politer.

“Little Hangleton,” the curse-breaker said, looking at Sirius to make sure that was correct.

Sirius nodded as he sat on a bed and held on to one of the bedposts. Bill took a seat next to him and grabbed the other bedpost. The bus took off at a great speed, twisting and turning through the streets. Sometimes squeezing so tight that it was like a strip of parchment. Sirius hated it when it did that.

“Little Hangleton,” Stan finally called their stop after about ten others were called.

“That’s us,” Sirius said, getting up on wobbly legs and moving to the front of the bus. He exited and waited for Bill. “So do you want to crack the ring first or go graverobbing?” he asked the younger man.

“Tell me why we’re graverobbing first,” Bill said, knowing it was probably for a good reason, but he wanted to know said reason.

“That’s right, you didn’t read how Voldy was resurrected. He used the bones of his father. Who happens to be buried in that graveyard,” Sirius said, pointing to the graveyard off in the distance. He hoped it was the correct graveyard anyway. How many graveyards could one town have?

“Let’s do that first. I would prefer to have it out of the way,” Bill said, moving towards the graveyard that Sirius had pointed out.

It turns out that Little Hangleton had three graveyards, and they had to go to all three of them before they found the right grave. When they did, it was a simple task of summoning the bones and vanishing them. They decided to play it safe and do the same to all of the Riddle family. They weren’t sure if the women would work in the spell, but they weren’t taking the chance. It was now going on midnight, and they had to find the Gaunt shack.

They knew it was near the old Riddle Manor, so they walked around there and soon found it. It was as dilapidated as the book described. Worse even. A strong wind could blow it down. Bill was sure it was magic that was holding it up. This house should have fallen years ago.

There was a dead animated snake nailed to the door, and Bill knew it was one of the first curses that he had to get through. It took a half an hour to counter it. Then he had to work his way slowly across the floor which was also cursed.

Sirius wasn’t much help. He was trying to be patient, but it wasn’t in his nature. He fidgeted and paced, asked questions and was a general nuisance.

“Black, go and see if anyone is coming.” Bill finally snapped at the pacing man. He was at a tricky part that needed his concentration, and the sound of footfalls was distracting him.

“Why would anyone come here?” Sirius asked, tapping his leg impatiently. This was boring and the wait was killing him.

“Didn’t you tell me about the caretaker?” Bill asked, referring to the old man that died in the fourth book. Sirius had warned him about Bryce when they were graverobbing.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll go check,” Sirius said, moving quickly out of the house.

Bill shot a locking charm at the door and went back to work. He knew there was a compulsion charm on the ring and had a counter to it. He knew better then to touch the ring in any way. There was only one more spell to get to the ring and it was in parseltongue, and it was difficult.

He was just about there, only one more strand of the curse. He picked at the strand with his magic… and done.

Bang, Bang, Bang. “Bill, why is the door locked?” Sirius called through the door.

Bill startled so bad he dropped his wand. He huffed, picked up his wand and unlocked the door for the other man, who he had a hard time believing was older than him. He grabbed a pair of tongs from his equipment bag, used them to pick up the ring box and slowly, as to not drop it, put it in a mokeskin pouch.

Sirius had subconsciously walked halfway across the room intent on putting on the ring. He had to use it. He had to call his brother and tell him he was sorry. He had to see if there was any way he could make up for not being there for Regulus.

He stopped when the ring box disappeared. “Damn, that was one strong compulsion,” he said, shaking his head.  

“I think we need to get this to the safe,” Bill said, holding on to the bag.

“Yeah,” was all the dogman said, his voice a bit shaky.

They apparated back to the house. Dobby was waiting for them with the diadem from Remus. They had all the horcruxes. Except Harry’s scar.

“Do you think we should get the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets?” Sirius asked Bill.

“The what?” Bill yelled, looking at the other man as if he’d lost his mind.

Sirius went to the shelf and picked up book two and handed it to Bill. “Don’t go off halfcocked,” he warned him. “We’ll talk about it when you’re done,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed him by.

Bill looked at the title and started. Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. He was overcome with a sense of foreboding.

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Meanwhile, it was after dinner that Amelia called Alastor. The other man showed up at her place and they were sitting in the living room.

“What did you want to see me about?” the one-eyed man asked. His usual paranoid self was going over what could possibly be wrong that she needed to see him.

“Alastor, I’m about to change your view of our world. It might make you more paranoid than you already are,” Amelia said, pulling out the fourth book. “First, I need a vow. You must vow not to talk about this with anyone not in the know. There are currently four others in the know. Myself, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Bill Weasley.” She put the book down on her lap and waited.

He used his magical eye to read the title of the book and gave his vow. Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. Anything that used that cursed artifact was bound to be bad news.