The Secret Magic Of Potions And Daggers

Chapter Six

This Christmas break at Hogwarts started out like the last four. The nearly empty dormitories and common room meant freedom hall for noise making and games which was a welcomed break. George, Fred, and Ron were playing a noisy game of Exploding Snap which was probably why they didn’t hear the tapping on the window at first. It was the sight of the window that first struck Harry as odd. As he sat in his favorite chair by the fire watching the furious blizzard raging outside he realized the snow had eyes.

“What’s that,” Harry called to the others who stopped their game in response to the concern in Harry’s voice. They all turned to the window and met the gaze of a large bird. Ginny ran to the window and opened it before the others could stop her. Half frozen and shivering a large black bird hopped in, crossed the room and collapsed on the floor by the fire, not seeming to notice the group of people gawking. Harry was still rooted to his chair and was therefore closest to this odd creature. The room lay as silent as the bird for a few minutes until it turned over to warm its underside. Rainbows of color seemed to glisten from the underside of its twelve foot wingspan, which was when Harry saw the probable purpose for the birds’ arrival. Tied to the left leg were several letters bound together, the top one read, “Harry Potter, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts.”

As soon as the others saw the package the tension eased slightly. But then there was still the matter of removing the letters. The problem being the letters weren’t the only things attached to the leg of the bird, giant talons menacingly reflected the light of the fire, clenching and unclenching as the bird slept on. It was Fred who suggested it was better to get the letters from the bird when it was awake rather than disturb it, and everyone else seemed to think that was a great idea, except Harry. It was his letter and he wanted to read it. He slowly approached the bird but as he did it began to shrink. As though withering away the bird became smaller and smaller then the colors changed. It’s once pointed beak gave way to a human face, wings became arms and talons turned to shoes. Harry could see at once it was a woman, but who he couldn’t tell until she sat up.

“Genevieve, what….how….huh?” was all Harry could manage to say. Genevieve stood up, still shivering and now limping.

“I must see Dumbledore, where may I find him.” It was obvious she wasn’t speaking to any person in particular, nor did she realize that Harry was in the room as she stumbled toward the portrait hole. Harry stopped her.

“You're hurt, let me help you. Sit here.” Harry offered, though she shrank from his touch.

“No, I need to deliver this before it’s too late,” she looked up and realized it was Harry. “Oh Dear, good you are still safe. Yes Harry you can help me. Take me to Dumbledore quickly.” Harry had so many questions for Genevieve he wanted to ask, not the least of which being how he was to transport a fully grown woman down the many stairs to the Great Hall where Dumbledore would probably be preparing for the Christmas Feast. She answered his question before he could ask it. With a small sizzling noise she shrank to the floor and became a small owl, the letters still tied to her left leg. Harry picked her up and, followed by Ron, ran down the stairs until he finally reached the Entrance hall.

To Harry’s surprise it wasn’t Dumbledore there, it was Snape who appeared in a most fearsome manor. Wand raised, poised to pounce he approached Harry who froze, unarmed and helpless. Snape advanced. “I’m going to kill you this time.” Snape and Harry had always had their differences and a general loathing for each other but - kill. Harry’s mind was racing on the best course of action when the small owl in his arms took flight and to his astonishment Snape’s wand followed the bird, not him. Then there she stood again, Genevieve looking tired.

“Severus, we don’t have time for this old thing. I have something for Dumbledore that is very important. You can kill me after but this has to be in his hands quickly. Please.”

“I’ve fallen for that before. I will not let you hurt anyone ever again.” Snape retorted spitefully as he raised his wand. There was a burst of light and a sizzle at the same time. Genevieve had avoided Snape’s curse by transforming into a hawk. She flew down into the dungeons with Snape close behind.

“We’d better find Dumbledore, quickly,” said Ron pulling on Harry’s robes. The two of them ran everywhere. He wasn’t in the Great Hall, nor was he in any of the classrooms they could see as they ran up and down each corridor.

They finally came to the stone gargoyle that hid the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. What was the password? Harry started reeling off the names of every Muggle candy he could think of, knowing that those usually made it on the list of Dumbledore’s favorite passwords.

“Bubble Gum, Mars Bars, Kit Kat, oh, what could it be…..Gummy worms,” the great stone statue hopped aside leaving a hole in the wall leading to a magical stone staircase that purveyed its riders upward with no effort. As Harry and Ron stepped on they saw the Hawk that was Genevieve swoop in before the gargoyle replaced itself.

Ron, having never been to Dumbledore’s office, was so taken aback by the moving staircase he didn’t notice for a moment that Harry was leaping the stairs two at a time in pursuit of the bird, but quickly followed. Up they rose until at the top they reached the door leading to the Headmaster’s quarters and came face to face with Genevieve again in human form, now banging on the locked door.

When Dumbledore opened the door he probably didn’t expect to be trampled upon by his visitors, but that’s what happened. Genevieve, now appearing to be more injured, was in a crumpled heap next to Ron who had run into everyone and collapsed himself. It was Harry who had enough composure to speak first. “Professor, she flew up to our window,” he paused to catch his breath, “she said she has something for you.” By now all had risen to their feet except Genevieve who was breathing very hard and searching in her bag. She extracted a glass bottle full of an almost neon orange liquid. The sight of this seemed to spark recognition with Dumbledore because he put up his hand to stop Harry from continuing, and then held it out to help Genevieve to her feet.

“Thank you Professor, you are most kind. My message is brief but my package important. I have in my possession someone with whom you may want to have a word.” Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They couldn’t see anyone else in the room. What did she mean? Genevieve placed the unfinished potion on Dumbledore’s desk and returned to rummaging through her bag. Out of which she pulled a cage, small enough for

“Scabbers” exclaimed Ron out of surprise, “No, I mean, could it be Peter Pettigrew!” Genevieve nodded.

“I deliver the traitor to you; all I ask is that you clear the name of Sirius Black as soon as possible, please. He’s been punished enough.”

It was at this moment that the door burst open which revealed a seething Snape.

“There you are. Everyone stand back, this ones mine,” he said eyes narrowing, wand rising. Genevieve dove into the corner by the window as Dumbledore stepped forward. “Get out of the way, I don’t care what she says, they are all liars and I am within the law to kill her. She never should have come to this school.” Harry saw Genevieve sitting on the floor, head buried in her knees.

“I’d rather take my chances with the storm than give you the pleasure of killing the last of us, but for the record, my parents were innocent and I can prove it. Not that a blood thirsty villain like yourself would care for the truth,” she stood up on her good leg and began fiddling with the locks on the windows, but they were stuck.

“How can you prove it,” sneered back Snape over the shoulder of Dumbledore. Harry and Ron, who’d stepped back to avoid the mounting tension between these two forces had no idea what was going on, but were keenly curious, and so pulled a reluctant Genevieve off the window ledge and toward the desk.

Reaching into what Harry had come to believe was an endless bag of tricks Genevieve revealed a wand that was unlike any he’d ever seen. Instead of a handle held in the fingertips it had a ball that Genevieve held in her fist, a small jewel barely visible between the pointer and middle fingers replaced the shaft. She muttered a small word under her breath and pointed the jewel toward her own left foot. The letters, which were still there, unattached themselves, rose up and placed themselves on the desk. Harry could now see to whom the other letters were addressed. One for him, but the others were for Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick. Snape snatched his up from the desk and tore open the envelope. As his eyes scanned the page his face grew white, his knees trembled and he searched with his hand for a chair to sink in, unable to take his eyes off the page. Dumbledore went to his mantle where he took a dash of powder and sprinkled it into the fire calling,

“Minerva . May I see you for a moment.” Out of the fire came a festive looking Professor McGonagall, though her cheery countenance changed the moment she saw Genevieve. Dumbledore indicated the letter on the desk addressed to her and as she read it her demeanor mirrored that of Snape.

Harry and Ron were caught in complete bewilderment, so Harry stepped forward to grab the letter addressed to him when Dumbledore caught him by the arm.

“I’m sorry Harry, but you can read this tomorrow. You’ll need some background information before any of this will be relevant. Trust me, tomorrow will be much better, for all of us. Would you please escort Genevieve to the infirmary then come to see me at 9:00 in the morning.”

“You forget Headmaster; your nurse can to nothing for me. If you’ll unlock the window I’ll be off,” was Genevieve’s request though as she walked to the window her wounded leg buckled sending her crashing to the ground. Dumbledore grabbed the potion she’d left on the desk and handed it to her. Drinking it seemed to make her feel better because she got to her feet and could at least support her weight.

“Harry, Ron, Please take her up to Gryffindor tower, she can sleep in one of the empty beds in the girls dormitory.” It was this that finally allowed Snape to break his eyes away from the parchment he’d been staring at.

“No, I still won’t have one given free access to the castle.”

“What would it take to satisfy you Severus?” Dumbledore asked. Snape seemed to think hard about that.

”I have a potion, Stabilizing Solution, which will prevent her kind from transforming, if she takes it she can stay.” This outraged Genevieve.

“I’ll drink nothing you prepare; I have some of my own thank you.” She pulled a bottle out of her bag identical to the first although the liquid was red, screwed off the cap and prepared to drink when Professor Snape took it out of her hand. He examined it up close, sniffed it critically then poured a bit on his hand and licked it with the remark,

“So, you’re not completely useless.” Genevieve took the bottle back and began to sip the potion slowly. Snape then turned toward the boys.

“Potter, Weasley, make sure she drinks it all, now leave us.” Not needing to be told twice they herded the still limping Genevieve out of the office, the last words they heard being those of Dumbledore saying,

* * * * *

The flights of stairs were much harder to go up than down, especially now that Genevieve in human form winced with every step. Halfway up she sat down and began sipping her red potion again. She looked even more tired and weatherworn with every swallow. Harry could not help himself,

“Please, I need to know” he began but Genevieve had already guessed what he was going to say.

“You want to know what was in that letter, who or I guess what I am and how I came about to complicate your life,” she smiled at the last bit.

“Well, I will tell you what I can. Your letter is a visual. It is a picture that proves that my parents were innocent of a crime for which they were brutally and publicly executed by those who share the feelings of your beloved Professor Snape.”

“What I am is a bit more difficult to explain.” Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances. “You noticed by now that I assume many shapes. I’m not quite sure how to explain this. If someone were to transfigure themselves into an animal of some kind they would likely stay that way unless there was another wizard around to undo the spell because they would take on the mind of whatever creature they changed into and exist on instinct. On the other hand, you know about animagi, like Professor McGonagall and how she can change into a cat. She can transform and keep her mind clear as herself, but she can only change into one specific identifiable thing. Well, what if you could have the best of both worlds. It’s a very promising yet dangerous combination. My great-great-great-grandmother was a Boggart, a shape shifter who is forced to take the shape of whatever would most scare the person nearest them.”

Harry interrupted, “We’ve studied Boggarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Dark Arts!” Genevieve’s voice rose. She took a moment to compose herself and continued. “Well, my Grandfather, back so many generations, invented a potion that would allow her to control what she changed into, which began a beautiful relationship, and thus stand I. I’m a bit witch, but mostly boggart. I came to Hogwarts while Voldemort was still in power.”

Harry who had been sitting there blown away by this story was even more so meeting another person willing to say the name of the Dark Lord. Neither Harry nor Ron wanted to interrupt her story because of the amount of physical effort it seemed to take her to tell it.

“Several of my cousins joined him and wanted me to as well but I wouldn’t. My parents had taught me the importance of controlling my power and allowing it to be used only for good. It was with that promise that Dumbledore admitted me to school. I respect him for at least trying. By Christmas of my first year Snape had figured out what I was because of an accident. An entire cauldron of swelling solution fell on top of me and nothing happened because most potions have no effect on my kind. My cousins who had joined Voldemort gave us all a bad name. Frankly people were scared and I can’t blame them. Imagine a small army of people who can appear to be anyone or anything at will. It’s terrifying. So Aurors were given a free license to kill any part blood boggart they came across. They did a good job of it too. I ran away from school and met up with my parents and we lived... well, perhaps not because no one would call what we went through a life. Shall we carry on up the stairs?” Harry and Ron jerked out of the trance they had both fallen into engrossed in the story.

“Where was I, oh yes,” she continued her story even as they climbed the staircases. “That when I rejoined your parents Harry, it was before you were born. They knew we had not sided with Voldemort and hid us for a while. The only other person who knew we were there was Sirius Black. The six of us had worked together for years, and my parents and I knew your father since he was a child. James, Lily and Sirius saved my parents lives for a few more months, and mine until now. On the other hand we were endangering their lives as long as we were there and when Lily got pregnant we knew it was time to leave. Eventually the Aurors caught up with my parents. They were given this stuff,” she raised her glass to indicate the potion, then well, there is only one spell that kills us. It’s a gruesome painful death. I escaped, went to America and lived as a Muggle as best I could. It was not until the year before last that I dared to come back. I needed some ingredients for my potions that can only be gathered in England. That’s when I learned your story Harry and how Sirius had been imprisoned. I knew him very well, and there was no way he would have done what they said he did of his own free will. So I set to track down the truth. Eventually I came face to face with Peter Pettigrew, trying to recruit me for his “cause,” instead I trapped him for mine. It was from him I learned Voldemort was going to try and get you from the Dursley’s. I was not there to save James and Lily, but I could get you out of harms way. Now Peter is in the hands of someone who can clear Sirius name, finally I can help him the way he helped me so long ago.” As they climbed the stairs Genevieve seemed to be looking for something with her hands on her hips, and then a mischievous look crossed her face, .

“They have moved it. It was right here and they moved it.”

“What did they move Genevieve?” asked Ron.

“The cupboard that was right here. It was my favorite, black with gold trim and so full of surprises.”

Harry felt a little guilty because that was the cupboard Peeves had smashed at the insistence of Nearly Headless Nick to distract Filch, thereby getting Harry out of trouble. When he explained what happened to Genevieve she did seem a little sad but quickly rebounded and said, “We will just have to find a suitable substitute.”

“For what. Aren’t you going to sleep in Gryffindor tower?”

“I thought you studied boggarts in ‘Dark Arts’,” she spoke with sharp sarcasm. “A bed is no place for a boggart. Now, we will need some help.” It was too late for Harry and Ron to stop her when she started banging on the walls and yelling.

”Myrtle, where are you. Get out of those pipes. I know you are around here some where dear. Come out where I can see you!” It was not Myrtle’s ghostly figure however who first approached them, but the Gray Lady.

“Genevieve. Can that be you?” It was the first time either of the boys had heard the Gray lady speak. She had a lovely, soft voice, which carried deep into the soul with a sing song melody.

Genevieve bowed to the approaching apparition and replied, “My Lady, how it warms my heart to see you again.” Smiles broke across both of their faces and they embraced as old friends. As Genevieve did so the line between solid and spirit hazed and Harry could see straight through both of them. Then he noticed that the red potion lay on the floor spilling its contents. How much of it did she drink, he tried to remember. Maybe half, or less.

Harry started to say, “We will just leave you two alone to find ….” but he broke off when he saw Myrtle, not tear stained and long faced (her normal state which had earned her the nickname Moaning Myrtle) but joyful. In fact, she looked downright deliriously happy and also embraced Genevieve. When Nearly Headless Nick floated in Genevieve again curtseyed.

“Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington, what an honor it is to meet you here.” She stood erect and took his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady” he responded with a bow. “You left so abruptly those many years ago I feared we would never meet again, or finish our discussion. Do you remember….”

“Yes, of course Sir Nicholas. Are you still sure?”

“Positive.”

“I will be leaving as soon as possible, but we will have to continue this conversation when what I drank of the stabilizing solution wears off. In the mean time, I hear my favorite cupboard was smashed.” Nearly Headless Nick cast his eyes to the floor until Genevieve added, “But I also heard it was for a very good cause.” Nick smiled and while he escorted her down the hallway she added, “If I remember correctly there is a handsome armoire up ahead.”

* * * * *

Harry awoke the next morning feeling the weight of the world on his chest, until he opened his eyes to see a familiar canine sitting on him.

“Get off me,” he said as he sat up. By the time Harry put his glasses on Snuffles had transformed into a man.

“I don’t know how it happened, but this is a great day. Did you hear Dumbledore has Peter?” Sirius was practically dancing as he said it. “That means I’m free.”

“I know I was there,” Harry laughed.

“Did he put up much of a fight? How did it go down?”

“He was brought in by that lady I keep trying to tell you about but we always get interrupted.”

“Who?”

“She keeps sending these disks to me, and when I talked to her last night she said she knows you. Her name is Genevieve.”

Sirius sat down on the bed. “She’s alive?”

“She looked alive to me, at least most of the time.”

“Is she still here, where is she.” Sirius stood up again, this time agitated.

“Yes, she’s in a cupboard just outside the common room, what’s wrong?”

“Once the ministry finds out it was she who brought in Pettigrew everything will be suspect. There will have to be a full investigation and they won’t just acquit me without a trial.” Sirius changed into a dog and ran out the door. Harry barely had time to throw a cloak over his pajamas and run after him.

As they neared the wardrobe Harry noticed the air thicken and grow colder. He realized that the hallway was occupied by ghosts standing in complete stillness. Myrtle stood on the edge of the group so Harry stood in front of her to get her attention.

“What’s going on,” he asked.

“Genevieve is resting,” she replied as though that would explain everything.

“What has that got to do with anything.”

Myrtle glided away from the group and Harry followed. “Genevieve is healing. Once she is well, all will be well.” She rejoined her ghostly companions, while Harry risked bumping into them to join Sirius who was talking to the Grey Lady.

“Absolutely not. No one may disturb her at this time.” Harry heard her say.

“Not even the Headmaster,” Dumbledore had walked behind Harry and Sirius and when the Gray Lady saw him she considered her options.

“With deepest respect sir, she needs her rest.”

“And I need answers,” he spoke with great intensity laced with gentility.

“If you insist, but please, not all of you.” She and the other ghosts parted leaving a path to the door of the wardrobe. Dumbledore dismissed Harry and Sirius and they waited outside the circle of ghostly sentinels. Although they watched Dumbledore approach it, open the door slowly and speak into the wood. The two of them strained to hear what he said.

“Genevieve, may I have a word with you?”

“Certainly Sir.” Genevieve emerged from the depths and sat on the floor, leaning against the doors.

“How do you feel?” He asked sincerely.

“Gelatinous.” She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to tell me exactly how you came across Peter Pettigrew.”

“Won’t you come in my room. The light out here makes it hard to concentrate.” She stood and escorted Dumbledore into the recesses of the cabinet closing the doors behind them.

“She looks beautiful,” Harry overheard Sirius whisper.

“If you go for the shape-shifting type I guess,” Harry added sarcastically. “What do we do now?”

“They could take all morning. Let’s get some breakfast.” Sirius walked down the hall a few yards. “We aren’t out of the woods yet, I’d better do this as Snuffles,” and changed back into the bear-like canine.

At breakfast Harry met up with Ron and Morgain after filling two plates full of food for himself and Snuffles.

“What is going on?” Ron asked. “I saw all those ghosts outside the common room and Dumbledore headed for the cupboard.”

“Dumbledore is talking to Genevieve, but other than that I have no idea.”

“Genevieve is here, in the castle?” Morgain seemed uncharacteristically curious to Harry. They were alone in the hall except for some Hufflepuffs sitting two tables over. When Snuffles devoured everything on his plate and a few things on Harry’s he sniffed the air suspiciously in the direction of Morgain.

“It’s ok Snuffles,” Harry was not about to risk Sirius’ life, this close to his regaining freedom, by letting on to Morgain who the dog really was. “This is a friend of mine.” Snuffles backed down but kept an eye on her.

As they all finished eating Snape entered the Great Hall. When his eyes fell on Harry and Snuffles hatred permeated his face but he suppressed it from his voice as he spoke to them.

“Dumbledore requests an audience with you both in there,” he pointed to the door behind the teacher’s table.

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said politely as he and Snuffles walked that way. Once through the door Harry’s eyes needed time to adjust as all the candles except three had been extinguished. Those three candles sat on the mantelpiece silhouetting the chair in front of it.

“Harry, Sirius, welcome.” Dumbledore stood by the chair and helped guide them to their seats. “We are quite alone here, you may take human form if you wish.” Sirius stood erect and stretched a bit before sitting next to Harry. Harry, even in the dimness of the room noticed the occupants of the picture frames were gone. “Genevieve, are you alright now.”

“Just about,” she replied from the chair. Dumbledore, with a wave of his wand, started a roaring blaze in the fireplace brightening the whole room. Now Harry could see Genevieve, and though she looked weak he now noticed as Sirius had that she was quite beautiful. Sirius rose and knelt by her chair.

“I thought you were dead, my dear friend.” Sirius said as he caressed her hand.

“Until this moment, so did I.” She stood up shakily and walked to the desk near Harry. Harry turned to look at it and saw a scroll, similar to the one Dumbledore had given him unrolled and held open by smooth green stones at each corner. Sirius steadied her as she reached into her satchel.

The door opened and shut flashing bright light onto the scene. It was Professors McGonagall and Flitwick and with a nod from Dumbledore they too approached the table. From her bag, Genevieve retrieved a coin. Its markings were similar to the ones Harry had in his pocket, but it was worn and dented, obviously much older than his. She placed it in her hand and held it palm side down above the heart of the scroll. Slowly she opened her fingers, starting with the little one then each in succession until her thumb extended. The coin floated just below her palm and as she moved her hand away it began to spin.

The coin emitted a soft, low, continuous note. The scroll quivered and then the cryptograms rose from the page to meet the coin. Underneath a manifestation of the floating words could be seen, with their interpretations. Harry saw them briefly as the instructions for creating the coins, from the proper proportions of metal, dimensions, and striking the images, to the recording of them, though the short-lived viewing didn’t allow anyone a detailed look. Genevieve staggered back to her chair and collapsed into it.

“Pardon me,” she whimpered. “A few more minutes and I will have fully healed. Shall we continue this then.”

Dumbledore approached her somberly. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time. Cornelius Fudge will be here shortly to see if your evidence is real and from that he will make the decision about a trial for you and Sirius.”

“A trial for her,” Sirius questioned, “But why?”

“For existing without permission, I suppose.” She hadn’t lost her sarcasm with her strength. Professor McGonagall however expressed a more plausible answer.

“She was executed, or so we thought, for assisting the Dark Lord in learning Old Magic.”

“I didn’t do it, but there is no way for that to be proved.” Genevieve spoke directly to Professor McGonagall. “He learned the same way the Longbottoms did, by figuring out the scrolls.” Harry looked around the room at all the adults in this conversation and suddenly felt quite privileged to be included.

The door opened again, this time Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic entered with two other men who were not introduced and Professor Snape. Sirius moved into the shadows unobserved.

“So Dumbledore, you caught one of these Creatures,” he spat the words as though disgusted he had to say them. Genevieve closed her eyes and appeared to be somewhere else mentally. “Why is she yet living?”

“Cornelius, before you pass judgment so quickly you may want to see several of the things she has brought with her.”

“What could a thing like that bring that would interest me.”

“Trust me, you will be interested, but please come to my office.”

“Only if I may leave these two gentlemen to guard It, Albus. I don’t want a repeat of the Sirius Black escape incident.”

“That will be all right, if McGonagall and Flitwick may stay as well. We don’t want a repeat of the Barty Crouch execution incident either.” Minister Fudge led the way out of the room and Dumbledore left after he saw Professor McGonagall, Flitwick and Snuffles the dog, standing between Genevieve and Fudge’s guards.

Harry stepped around Genevieve’s protectors and knelt beside her. She was breathing slowly and her eyes beneath their lids shuddered rapidly. As he watched her skin gained color and her back straightened. After five minutes her eyes slowly opened and after a moment she realized what was going on.

“We could do with a bit more light. Dear Professor Flitwick would you do the honors.” Flitwick swished his wand in the air and the candles in the room lit. “Thank you, kind sir. While we are waiting I could do with a bit of music. Harry, do you still have those coins, give one a flip.” Her guards pointed their wands at her and Harry, afraid of what would happen.

Harry flipped the second coin he had received, with his mother’s introduction but his father’s music. As it played ghosts glided into the room, some stopped to whisper to Genevieve, others swayed and glided in time to the music. The ministry guards even tapped their feet in time to the music and had soon lowered their wands.