Harry’s Scar
This is a prime example of my muse taking control. I couldn’t help but write out this chapter. No matter how much I argued with it. Blasted muse. Oh well, enjoy.
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They found Remus in the kitchen talking to Bill. They didn’t interrupt their conversation, just sat next to him, and waited. They were talking about Remus’s time at Hogwarts, and how it differed from when he attended as a student. It was quite a stimulating conversation.
Bill would throw in some of his experiences at the school as well. The professors for DADA were all lackluster, even in the redhead’s time as a student. He was worried about his siblings and what they were, or weren’t, learning. Remus suggested tutoring them on the basics and letting them self-study for the rest.
Harry agreed with the man. If Bill did all the work for them, they would never learn. It was something he learned from when he had to do Dudley’s homework. That’s why he never copied off Hermione, like Ron did. You would think after doing so bad on his first-year tests, the boy would learn. however, he still wanted Hermione to do his work for him. Harry was tired of trying to get the other boy to stop.
It didn’t take long for the other two to wrap up their talk. Bill was about to leave when Sirius stopped him. The redhead got a curious look on his face, but he retook his seat. “What’s up?” he asked the other man.
“Are we alone in here?” Sirius asked, looking around the room like Molly would pop out of nowhere. He didn’t want to have anyone else in the house privy to what they were going to talk about. If Molly knew she’d want to get Dumbledore right away. Sirius wanted to see if they could solve it now, not when Dumbledore wanted.
That man might just have plans that would draw everything out. He claims to know more about You-Know-Who than anyone else. He was sure the other man knew what was in his pocket too. He just didn’t trust the headmaster to let him know.
“Yeah, Mum has got the kids cleaning,” Bill said, smirking at Harry, who seemed to avoid being volunteered. “You are getting better at hiding,” he said to the teen, who just shrugged.
Sirius pulled the box from his pocket and put it on the table. “We found this in the curio cabinet. It’s evil, and Harry says it’s connected to You-Know-Who,” he explained as he opened it.
The feeling of evil permeated the room. It was overwhelming, and Bill took a fork from the table and lifted the necklace. He placed it on the table and started casting revealing charms on it. He then sucked in his breath at the results. Then he got a queer look on his face and cast one again. This time at Harry.
“Hey,” Harry said, not sure how to take someone casting at him, even if he did trust the guy.
“Sorry, I had to be sure. There is no easy way to say this,” Bill said, using the fork to put the necklace back in the box. “I’ll just spit it out. You and this necklace are horcruxes,” he stated, fully expecting the adults in the room to react.
And react they did. Remus growled and stood up so fast his chair hit the wall. Sirius put his head in his hands and seemed to be trying not to cry. Harry looked at both of them in confusion.
“Okay, what’s a horcrux?” the teen asked, putting a hand on his godfather’s shoulder, to show he was there for him. Sirius was still mentally unstable at times, and this looked like one of them.
“It’s a piece of someone’s soul,” Bill said, now expecting Harry to react.
“Well, get it out!” the boy shouted, removing his hand from Sirius and putting it on the scar, where he knew that horcrux was. He didn’t want any part of Riddle in him. If there was a way to remove it, he was all for that. Bill was one of the best curse-breakers at Gringotts, if anyone knew what to do, Ron’s brother would.
“I can do that,” Bill said with some authority. “I’ve done it many times in Egypt. I don’t know why Dark Lords still do this. They don’t work. The only thing they do is corrupt the soul,” he said, putting the box in his pocket. “If they did work, we’d be hip deep in pharaohs,” he added, his smile never faltering.
“When can you get it out of Harry?” Sirius asked, perking up at the fact that his godson didn’t have to be destroyed. It was the only way he knew to rid oneself of one. Fiendfyre, or an acid so strong as to melt metal. All those methods destroyed the container. He had never heard of a living container.
“Right now. If you have a ritual room,” the redhead said, standing and righting Remus’s chair. He clapped the werewolf on the back and led him back to the table.
Remus was just as glad that Bill knew what to do as everyone else. The problem was his anger was much harder to get under control. The werewolf in him called for someone’s blood, to have done such a thing to a cub of his pack. He didn’t know who to blame, he was sure it was the Dark Lord, but he was helpless against that person. Therefore, he was feeling useless, hence his anger was burning.
Sirius made a ‘duh’ noise and said, “Of course my family has a ritual room.” He said it like it was a given. “Though they never used it for good. More like summoning and such,” he added, getting up and leading them out of the room. Only instead of going to the hall, he went to the back of the kitchen, where there was a door to the basement.
“Summon what?” the naïve teen asked, following his godfather.
“Demons, sometimes, not often. More times than not, they summoned the dead. Mostly for things like forgotten rituals, or spells. One time, my mum called one of my long dead uncles to find out where he had hidden his vault keys. My many times great uncle hated my mother, so he didn’t tell her. She never did find that key. Maybe I should call him up and ask him,” Sirius said, like it was perfectly normal to call upon the dead. As easy as picking up a telephone and dialing a number.
Harry was sure it wasn’t that easy, but that’s the way the man made it sound. Out loud he said, “Maybe you should just look for it yourself, or ask one of the paintings. I mean, the dead should not be disturbed,” he said with a tone of finality, like there was no way anyone would ever change his mind on that fact.
“You’re probably right, if my family thought it was okay, you can bet it was not,” Sirius said, still leading them down the stairs. It was a gloomy place, much like the rest of the house. There was little light and the gas lights that were showing, didn’t do more than cast shadows, which made the whole hall look downright scary.
They trooped down the stairs and followed the head of the house to a room at the end. It was a circular room, that had a runic circle drawn into the floor. It was the basis of a summoning circle. The walls were concrete, and there were stains on them, that no one wanted to identify. There were more lights in here than there had been in the hall. As if they knew that they needed lights here, so they didn’t mess up their rituals.
Harry could just imagine what could happen with something like that. He knew that miscasting a spell could have dire consequences, so he could understand why summoning demons would need to be done with great care.
“This will work,” Bill said, leading a stunned Harry to the center and having him sit. “I’ve never done this on a live person before, but it should work just the same. I’m going to remove the horcrux from your scar and put it with the one in the necklace,” he explained, nudging Harry to lay down.
Harry did as bid and held his breath, not sure what was happening. He knew that Bill was going to do a ritual on him, but he had never seen, nor even learned, a ritual. He had been told they were all dark and not to mess with them. Of course, this was from Ron, who thought just about everything not in the schoolbooks was dark. He did wonder where that train of thought came from, when his brother did rituals all the time.
Maybe Mrs. Weasley put that seed in Ron’s mind. She did say over and over again that she didn’t like Bill’s job. She would say the same about Charlie’s as well. That might be why Ron was more receptive when Harry had had to face the dragon in the first task. He knew the danger of dragons, thanks to Charlie.
Bill moved around the circle making a few more marks, and then started chanting. He chanted in a language that Harry didn’t know. He thought it might be the goblins’ tongue. It had a sing-song quality to it. The rhythm made him relax and just go with what was happening.
Bill moved the necklace to hang over Harry’s scar. The teen did his best not to look at it. He could still feel the evil rolling off it. He felt a tugging at his scar and decided to help it along, by wishing it gone from his head. Thoughts of how much better his life would be if he were free of this abomination filled his mind. Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Remus, and others also occupied his thoughts. He knew that if this was successful, then they would have a better life as well.
There was a tearing sensation, and a ripping noise, and then the pressure was gone. Some sludge poured out of his scar, and he put his hand up to keep it from running in his eye. It was disgusting to feel on his hand, and it took all his will power not to wipe it off on his trousers.
“Simple as that,” Bill said, helping Harry up from the floor. He patted the teen on the back and asked, “So, how do you feel?”
“I feel great. Like something heavy had been taken from my head,” Harry said, giving the man a one-armed hug for his help. He hadn’t even known the heaviness was there until it was gone.
“Sounds about right,” the redhead said, patting the teen on the back. “I’ll take this to Gringotts. We have ways of using them to see if there are more. If there are, we’ll have to discuss what to do with you, or Dumbledore,” he said, pocketing the lead box. He didn’t know how many there were, but if the story he had gotten from his siblings about Ginny’s first year was any indication, there were more.
He had tried to talk to Dumbledore about it, but the man just brushed off his concerns. There were times when he didn’t like the things the old man did. If he didn’t have his claws so far into his family, Bill would have told him to shove off ages ago. As it was, he stuck around to make sure his family made it through the war. No matter how the headmaster thought it needed to be fought. Bill knew that there would be deaths, and he knew that there was a good chance he too would have to kill. He just hoped that the rest of the Weasleys learned that, before one of the deaths was theirs.
“That sounds like a plan,” Sirius said, making Bill come back to the present. Sirius waited until Harry let Bill go before drawing him into a hug. He was just glad the kid was okay, and that the burden was now gone from his godson. He too felt tons lighter.
“Now that that is over, we can talk to Moony about the doxies,” Harry said, starting towards the door. He wanted to be anywhere but here. This place was creepy. His hand was still on his forehead, keeping the gunk from going down his face.
“Yeah,” Sirius said, reluctantly letting the teen go. He then clapped Remus on the back and said, “Come on. I think you’re going to like this.” He then followed Bill and Harry out of the room.
Remus shrugged and let himself be led back to the kitchen. He knew that tone of voice, Sirius was up to something again. He just hoped it was lighthearted, he didn’t think he could handle anything heavy right now.
The kitchen was still devoid of other people, for which everyone was glad.
“Harry, come here a moment, and let me clean that mess from your head,” Sirius said, motioning the teen to the sink. He picked up a clean rag and got it wet.
“You’re not just going to spell it away?” Harry asked, not sure why the other man wasn’t using magic. He wandered over and put his hand down, exposing the scar.
“Scourgify leaves the skin sensitive,” the dogman explained, putting some soap on the rag, and then bringing it to Harry’s forehead. He scrubbed for a minute, and then he looked at the scar. “It’s almost gone,” he said, running a finger down the lightening bolt scar. It was just a thin line now. He then handed the cloth to Harry so he could clean his hand.
“Good, maybe people will stop staring at it,” Harry said in a voice that said nothing was going to ruin his good mood. He finished getting the gunk off his hand and threw the rag away. There was no way that would ever be clean again.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Remus asked, taking a seat at the table.