12 – Magical Meditation

The day after Harry's chat with the Headmaster, Madam Pomfrey finally gave the okay for Ron to be transferred to the Burrow. According to Mr. Weasley, they had cleared out a room on the ground floor and had moved all of Ron's things in there so that he would be closer to the family and so that Mrs. Weasley could check on him often during the day. Both Madam Pomfrey and the specialist from St. Mungo's would be stopping in to look him over each day. Ginny and the twins were also there, so there were a lot of people to chat to him or to read him books.

Harry was encouraged to write Ron long winding letters that the others could read to him so that he was aware that his friend was thinking of him. Harry, of course, agreed to do just that. He also suggested to Mr. Weasley that if any Quiddtich games were broadcast over the Wizarding Wireless, that Ron be allowed to listen. He was such a fan of the sport that even in a coma he was sure to enjoy it.

Still, the loss of Ron's presence made Hogwarts seem even emptier. Harry had taken to spending the mornings in one of the sunnier courtyards instead of up in the Infirmary. He had found that sitting in a warm and sunny patch of grass made it easier for him to work on the meditation and magical exercises that Professor Dumbledore had assigned him.

One of those exercises was that instead of just sinking his mind into his magic and watching as it ebbed and flowed through his body he was to direct it to specific points in his body at will. He would get as comfortable as possible and then let his consciousness melt down into that awesome wellspring of heat and light that he envisioned as red and gold sparkles of magic. Then, instead of just floating along on its currents, he attempted to urge it to flow in specific ways; down his arms to his paw-like hands, in a swirling rush around his chest, or up his spine to pool in his brain.

Another related exercise was to visualize his magic leaking out of his body through his skin in a shimmer of power to form a corona or aura. By directing this aura to seep through his skin and fur in a specific direction allowed him to touch things with his magic instead of his body. It was to his great shock and delight that he learned that if he sat on the grass and directed his magic to pulse below him towards the ground he could levitate. After that discovery it was a common sight to see him floating through the air in the gardens while he meditated.

Of course, he was also expected to continue to review and catalog his memories. The more of those he had under his own control, the fewer there were for a legilimens to exploit. He was also expected to learn how to manipulate this mental world to a much greater degree than he already could.

So far, he had learned how to form a magical construct which was simply an image that he imbued with magic to perform a limited and specific task. He had discovered that by modeling them after real people he knew well, he could easily attach a personality and mannerisms to them. The construct of Hermione was not the real witch, but it looked like her, spoke with her voice, and was very protective of books and valued knowledge greatly. Without Harry's deep understanding of her personality and a great number of memories of her, Harry most likely couldn't have built the construct so quickly, easily or with such a degree of detail.

That had to change.

Harry had to be able to manipulate, shift, and control all aspects of his inner mental world at will. He also had to learn how to cast magic inside his own mind. Voldemort's avatar wasn't his own construction, so he couldn't just undo it. It was a foreign element that would actively resist and fight him.

With that thought in mind, as soon as Harry had just the smallest fraction of ability on manipulating and changing his mindscape at will, he decided to give the avatar of the Dark Lord something to focus on besides dripping Dark Magic into his mind. So it was that everyday at the end of his meditation practice, Harry would shift his consciousness down into the mental reconstruction of the Chamber of Secrets that the avatar hid in and do something to redecorate the place. This proved to be harder than changing other aspects of his mind since it was also a battle of wills against the avatar.

At first, he simply changed the walls from damp and slimy dark stone into freshly plastered walls painted a deep Gryffindor red with silhouette cutouts of lions in a shiny gold color. Though it might sound like a small and silly change, the effort had left him sweaty and panting for breath even as the avatar of Voldemort shrieked inside of his head.

The second thing he managed was to change was two of the stone pillars. They had been originally shaped into the form of venomous scaled snakes that reared up out of their own coils to support the dark heavy ceiling stones. Harry had used his will and magic to force the first two in the line into the forms of gryphons sitting regally upon lovingly carved pedestals, their wings swept back behind them gracefully. He managed to not only change their shape, but also the material they were made of. Instead of a dark and stained fieldstone, the pedestals became deep shiny obsidian and the statues were of a snowy white marble. Gilded accents and scrollwork decorated the obsidian and sparkling green gemstones for their eyes capped off the beautiful works of art.

The avatar was not amused by this.

The third visit down didn't lead to much visual change in the mental Chamber of Secrets, but Harry was able to cast several scurgify spells and a few air cleaning charms. His knowledge of muggle cleaning methods and the magical cleaning spells he'd picked up at his last visit to Sirius' house had given Harry a large repertoire of ways to get rid of dirt, mold, grime, slime and stains. Conjured mops and scrub brushes attacked the floor of the Chamber, especially the stain left by the dripping black sludge that leaked out the curse scar shaped hole in his mind. Air cleansing spells freshened and sweetened the air with the scent of blooming flowers even as other spells vanished cobwebs, dirt and grime.

Oddly enough, the symbolic 'cleaning' of his mind of the taint of Dark Magic seemed to hurt the avatar more than the transfiguration of his power symbols.

Because of all this, Harry began to plan out just what he wished to do to the Chamber. He actually made a list. The pillars, of course, would have to all be transfigured much like the first two had. Two lions, two hippogryphs, two stags and of course, two phoenixes. That would take care of the rest of them and he would be sure to have them match the style of the two gryphons that currently had residence there.

The stone floor would have to go. Perhaps a nice deeply burnished wood with a few scattered throw rugs? And a deep basin under the scar to catch all of that dripping, black, oily Dark Magic that leaked like a sieve into his mind. The great dirty statue of Salazar Slytherin would need to be replaced with one of Godric Gryffindor.

Perhaps he could even create a mental construct or two to hang out there? Dumbledore maybe…or Fawkes?

Harry couldn't help but give vent to a rumbling growling chuckle at the thought of Voldemort's avatar being lectured all day and all night by a mental construct of Albus Dumbledore on the virtues of turning from the Dark and back to the Light all the while a phoenix flitted about trilling and cooing.

Of course, being an annoying prat to the little bit of the Dark Lord that was stuck in his head wasn't all that he did each day. He also spent a lot of time reading over advanced transfiguration texts, particularly those that focused on human to animal transfiguration, the animagus transformation and self transfiguration. Once he had read some book or article, he then would spend several hours discussing and dissecting the theory with Professor McGonagall.

He also wrote out two different letters to Ron. It was a bit awkward since he knew ahead of time that someone would be reading them to his friend, but he didn't know who. So he had to make certain that anything he wrote was something that anyone could know. As such, they were both a bit short and limited on topic.

Dear Ron,

I really hope that you are feeling better and are up and around. While I'm fairly sure that someone would have told me if you woke up, you can never tell. So, if you are, please write me back.

As for me, I'm still at Hogwarts. I'm sure I mentioned it before, but that Death Eater git Malfoy managed to hit me with the animagus spell or something, but Ginny stopped him from completing it. That could have been fixed I guess, but then the Spork Lard Moldyshit did something that locked me half-way through the transformation. So, yeah, I'm still a walking and talking lion-boy. Gold fur and everything, mate.

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore are still working to help me fix it, so don't worry. But at least with all the other students' home for the summer I don't have any more ickle firsties trying to pet me like a kneezle.

Wake up soon,

Your friend, Harry

His second letter to Ron was much the same.

Dear Ron,

I'll be heading off to stay with Sirius soon. From what I understand, your brother Bill has been helping Sirius, Remus and Mad-Eye to fix up the place a bit. I guess there were a bunch of hexes and curses all over the house and a whole trunk full of dark artifacts that had to be hauled out and destroyed.

I've been thinking, as cool as Moody, Shacklebolt, and Tonks are, I'm not sure that I want to be an Auror anymore. Working for the Ministry just doesn't have any appeal whatsoever. Maybe I can talk to Bill about what it's like to be a cursebreaker? That seems like it might be a neat thing to do. And it would be very cool to be able to unravel the curses and hexes on dark artifacts so that they can't hurt anyone anymore.

When you wake up we'll talk about it, 'cause I really want your opinion too.

For now though, I'm still focusing on trying to break the transfiguration that was cast on me. Plus I get the feeling that I'm going to have to study a lot this summer. Making Draco Malfoy wet his pants in fear is fun and all, but I need to be able to do that to the older Death Eaters too and not just the little prats they spawned.

Wake up soon,

Your friend, Harry

He could only hope that his letters helped Ron and sparked something in his brain to help him wake up. And as far as he knew, all of their Gryffindor yearmates had been encouraged to write to Ron as well. It was even possible that the word would spread and others would write him encouragement as well. Ron had quite a few friends in other years and other Houses from classes and the D.A.

Still, as much as he worried for Ron and as much effort as he put into studying and learning the animagus transformation, Harry had taken Professor Dumbledore's advice to heart and spent most of his time practicing his mental exercises and magical meditation. An entire school year had been wasted because Snape was a traitorous git and Harry was still a rank beginner when he should have been working on intermediate skills, or perhaps even advanced skills. Voldemort's entire advantage that year came from Harry's lack of skill and knowledge in the mental magical disciplines. It was bad enough that he was forced to play 'catch-up' in all areas as it was, now he was dreadfully behind schedule.

So it was that on one of his last days at Hogwarts, Harry was sitting on his bed in Gryffindor and working on his occlumency by reviewing and 'clearing away' old memories before going to sleep. He had come across a few that were from the summer before his second year. Many of them were looked over, frowned at fiercely and then stuffed in the cupboard under the stairs or locked up in the smallest bedroom upstairs.

Then he came to the memory of Dobby returning his mail and trying to convince him not to return to Hogwarts. At first he had trouble figuring out just where to file it away. On the one hand, he was rather angry that Dobby had stolen his mail and then afraid after he dropped the cake on the wife of Uncle Vernon's client. That fit the parameters for the cupboard. On the other hand, he was also very relieved and happy that his friends hadn't abandoned or forgotten him. That was the opposite of lonely and sad, which is what the smallest bedroom stood for. It was also the first time he'd met Dobby, which left him confused on how to feel. The insane little elf was sincere in his devotion to Harry, but his methods of showing it were often strange and a bit scary and he had only the lightest grasp on the reigns of sanity. Dobby had the tendency to cause far more trouble and pain in his attempts to help than most people could with true malicious intent.

Harry had finally decided to throw the memory into the cupboard under the stairs when he realized something that had never once occurred to him before. Dobby had penetrated the supposedly impenetrable blood wards at Privet Drive. He had also come through the wards at Hogwarts. And, if the muttering speculation he had overheard was correct, Kreacher's part in the whole Ministry mess had been set up by Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange since the disgusting little elf was able to travel to wherever they were at will.

Almost shaking with excitement, Harry called out tentatively, "Dobby?"

The sound of a finger snap echoed in his ears and Dobby faded into view with a soft puff of smoke, his large eyes shinning with insanity and zealous devotion even as one of his hands reached up to twist his large bat-like ear.

"Oooo!" he wailed with a pained sort of joy. "The great and wonderful wizard-cat Harry Potter calls on poor Dobby! Oooo, great and powerful bane of the Lady Strange-head! Dobby is being so honored and joyed to be called!"

Harry's sensitive ears flicked back sharply at the high pitched wails even as he blinked and boggled at the title that Dobby had bestowed upon Bellatrix. Lady Strange-head, indeed.

"Dobby, Dobby…Dobby!" When the little elf stopped wailing and merely stood there quivering in joy and bouncing from foot to foot as if he had to run off to the loo, Harry lifted his paw to his muzzle and said, "Shhhh… My new cat ears are very sensitive and can hear really good. Soft whispers work much better now."

Dobby's eyes opened so wide that for a second Harry was afraid that they'd fall out of his skull and roll about the floor.

"Oooo, Harry Potter, Kitty-Sir, Dobby will be very careful to whisper so softly and be so quiet." Dobby's voice was still high pitched, but it was also forced down into the sort of pseudo whisper that Hagrid used. It carried easily to all available ears, but didn't drill into one's head like a steel awl. "What can Dobby be doing for the great Harry Potter?"

Harry paused and thought for a moment.

"For now, I just have a question or two." Dobby nodded his head so eagerly that his large ears flopped about.

"Do you remember back when you tried to warn me that Malfoy was going to attempt to open the Chamber of Secrets?"

Dobby's expression melted from eager joy into one of almost desperate horror. He wailed loudly and turned to bash his head against the small end table next to Harry's bed. "Oooo! Dobby tried so hard to save his great Harry Potter, Sir! The bad Master was being evil and had to be stopped! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

Quickly, Harry whipped his wand around and conjured a pillow on the small little table and Dobby's head went 'poof' instead of 'thud'.

"Dobby! Stop that this instant! You are not a bad elf. You were trying very hard to make sure I was safe from harm. It isn't your fault or my fault that Lucius Malfoy secreted a dark artifact made by Voldemort into the school. It's all his fault. Not yours and not mine."

Dobby looked up at him with tears swimming in his large eyes and Harry sighed out a rumbling growl.

"It isn't Malfoy I wanted to talk about anyway. It's the fact that you were able to get inside my Aunt's house. Didn't the wards bother you?"

Wordlessly Dobby shook his head and Harry blinked in surprise.

"Do any wizarding wards stop you? Or any elf for that matter?"

Dobby shook his head once more and then shrugged. "House elfses can go through any whizzy wards unless they are set up just for us to be stopped. Very few places have wards to be stopping elfses."

Harry paused and held himself very still for a long moment as his mind whirled around and around as he considered that from all angles.

"So," he purred out at long last, "if I was able to get a hold of some of Fred and George's portable swamps you'd be able to take them to…say for instance, Malfoy Manor and then set them off somewhere inside the house?"

Dobby nodded his head eagerly, his earlier upset disappearing at the thought of being able to do something for his beloved Harry Potter.

"Oh, yes, Harry Potter, Kitty-Sir. Dobby is being able to take anything to the bad Master's house. And Dobby is able to activate the magic in the swamp anytime Harry Potter needs and…" Then Dobby trailed off as he finally realized just what Harry was proposing to him and his eyes widened greatly before they narrowed down to slits and an evil grin slid across his face. "Oooo, Harry Potter is a great and power wizard-cat to want to play pranks on nasty bad Masters! A stinky swamp is being a perfect prank for bad Mistress Ma'am to be finding inside her dressing room with all of her fancy robes."

Harry took a moment to envision Narcissa Malfoy flinging open the door to her private dressing room and then stepping neck deep into a stinking, slime filled swamp complete with alligators and mosquitoes. He flashed a fang filled grin of delight at Dobby.

"I'll write to Fred and George and ask for some pranking stuff right away."

Dear Gred and Forge,

After a delightfully informative chat with Dobby the House Elf, I learned that a building must have special wards up that are set specifically to block any and all elves from appearing in order to keep them out. If a building doesn't have those wards, then any elf, no matter who owned it or even if it was free, can enter and leave at will.

Please send a few portable swamps and any other prank you feel would be educational to the remaining Malfoy family as Dobby has volunteered to deliver them in person. He seems to feel that Lady Malfoy's private dressing room would be best redecorated by several tons of swamp water and a few hungry alligators. Who are we to deny him this deeply held desire?

Your furry partner in pranks,

Harry

PS: As an almost animagus, I need a Marauder name. Any ideas, mates?

Harry was fairly sure that he should try and get a bunch of ideas from not just the twins, but from Padfoot and Moony as well. They would all get a huge kick out of pranking the Death Eaters in their own homes. He was positive that a few dungbombs would only improve the atmosphere in the Parkinson, Bulstrode and Umbridge family residences, and the very thought of pranking the Dark Lord with a Canary Crème was hilarious. Harry took great delight in imaging him stomping around in a tizzy as his feathers molted off.

Still, the idea of sending friendly House Elves behind enemy wards was something that should probably be explored beyond the joys of long-distance pranking. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this would be a way to spy on the enemy, especially since their last spy had proven himself a traitor. As tempted as he was to ask Dobby to go and listen in on some Death Eaters, he didn't want to do so and have Dobby end up getting captured and hurt. It would probably be best to bring it up when he saw Professor Dumbledore or perhaps to Mad-Eye Moody.

That was, however, a topic for another time. For now, Harry had to finish his mental exercises and get to sleep. He had a lot of packing to do in the morning and then he would be off to Order Headquarters. One of the tricks he'd been working on was to delve into his own mind and pick some memory to relive in his sleep. This helped in that it prevented the avatar from playing about with his subconscious and often allowed him to avoid nightmares since he couldn't be forced to relive bad memories.

That night Harry chose to relive a fairly enjoyable and productive D.A. meeting in which no one got hurt and everyone had a good time.

When Harry opened his eyes he was in a very good mood and was excited about finally being able to go to Sirius' house. He had come so close to losing his godfather, to never being able to see him again…to being alone. Harry cringed at the thought of his arm, but Sirius said it was a fair price to pay for his life. Still, even dwelling on that couldn't stop him from being happy.

He purred through getting himself ready and finishing up his packing. Knowing that he was going to be able to use his wand later, he shrunk everything down and tucked it into his pockets. Then, with one last look around to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, Harry left Gryffindor and lopped through the castle to the Headmaster's office.

"Fizzing Whizbees."

The gargoyle leapt aside and Harry stepped onto the stairs just as they began to swirl around and upwards. He was deposited right at the Headmaster's door so he knocked.

"Come in Harry."

Opening the door, he waved at the Headmaster and lopped over to Fawkes. The phoenix trilled at him in welcome and he perked his ears forward even as he leaned in with his eyes slit down in pleasure and loosed a rumbling purr of joy right back. Without really thinking about it, and indeed he probably couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried, Harry leaned forwards even more and brushed his cheek against the side of Fawkes' head and down a good portion of his neck. For his part, Fawkes leaned into the touch and cooed in delight.

"Scent marking my familiar, Harry?"

Harry paused and blinked while halfway through rubbing his second cheek along Fawkes' brightly feathered neck. He leaned into the touch briefly before pulling away and turning to face Dumbledore. Once again he was glad that his thick fur hid his blush.

"I…I…I'm sorry, Sir. It's just…well, Fawkes is my friend." Harry shrugged awkwardly, unsure how to explain instincts he didn't really understand himself. "I'm gonna miss him."

Professor Dumbledore didn't seem to be angry or upset, so that was a comfort. Instead he walked up and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and reached out with the other to tickle Fawkes under his chin.

"I understand. You've spent a bit of time in his company recently as he helped you to learn how to connect with your inner magic. And he is such an amazing and wonderful creature, so willing to give of himself that he is very easy to love." He sighed and gently steered Harry away from the golden perch and the phoenix that sat upon it. "I too have often felt regret and sadness during those times when I was separated from him."

He was guided over to the chairs before the fireplace and gently herded into one. Smiling, Professor Dumbledore sat down in the other and waved his wand with a gentle swish. A tray of tea and crumpets appeared and floated between them.

"Here. Let us enjoy some tea while we wait for Alistair to signal through the floo that they are ready for you to join them. Hmm?"

Harry blinked. "Wha?... Oh, yes. Thank you." A cup of hot tea was pressed into one paw-like hand and the other received a crumpet. Harry took a small sip to avoid spillage.

"You know, I've been taking out random memories to sink into when I fall asleep at night. I've found that I tend to dream about whichever memory I select and it makes it harder for Tom to fiddle with my mind and give me nightmares."

Dumbledore raised up one bushy eyebrow and then nodded. "I had not considered doing such, but it is a very good idea, my boy. And a rather simple way to confound him."

Harry nodded and made a vague gesture with his crumpet. "I've been mostly pulling out memories of lessons and such. I figure that it's a good way to review various spells and things. And as long as I avoid ones that contain potions class or Umbridge, it usually leaves me waking feeling good and refreshed."

A frown washed over the Headmaster's face and his eyes stopped twinkling at even the oblique reference to Snape. The man's deception and traitorous actions had hurt Dumbledore greatly. He had given the man much; a home, a purpose, and most importantly, his trust. Snape had thrown it all back into Dumbledore's face.

Harry blushed. "Sorry Sir, it's just…" He took a sip of tea and gestured with his crumpet. "The memory I chose was from a D.A. study session. In it, we reviewed and practiced the Patronus Charm."

Harry paused as he gathered his thoughts and Dumbledore took a large bite of his own crumpet even as he made an encouraging gesture.

"Well, I don't know if you remember, but my own Patronus is a stag. My father's animagus form, to be exact. Prongs." A fang filled grin slid over his leonine face for a brief moment. "I was wondering how the avatar of Tom that's stuck in my head would like to meet him. Prongs, I mean. If I could sink my mind down into his mental Chamber of Secrets and cast the Patronus Charm…"

Professor Dumbledore paused in the act of reaching for his tea, a thoughtful look upon his face.

"I dare say that Tom would find it fairly unpleasant to be gored on the antlers of an over-protective and ghostly stag formed of Light Magic, happiness and love."

Harry chuckled at that thought. It was a deep rumbling sound that was more growl than purr.

"Very true. I was, however, thinking that Prongs might be able to drive Tom back into the curse scar rift the way he can drive off a dementor. But gored on his antlers is good too."

Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even as he chuckled lightly. "As amusing as that would undoubtedly be, I would ask that you hold off a bit on trying that. Practice the exercises a bit more. A few more days of skill building might be the deciding factor between if such a ploy would succeed or fail."

Harry opened his mouth to argue the point. His enthusiasm over the idea and his deeply felt desire for riding himself of Voldemort's avatar pressing him forward. But then he considered how difficult it was to cast even simply transfigurations and cleaning charms inside his mental Chamber of Secrets. The Patronus Charms was an extremely advanced bit of magic and difficult to cast on its own. With Tom fighting him every step of the way, it would be even more difficult.

"Perhaps you're right. Practice won't hurt any, but I really want that man out of my mind. It's very disturbing and creepy knowing that he's there."

"Indeed." The Headmaster gestured with his cup of tea. "That is why you must make sure to take the time to practice, even though I'm certain you'd rather put it off for more enjoyable activities."

It was at that point, before Harry could say anything more, that the fire in the fireplace flared higher and turned a brilliant emerald green. Alistair Moody's face poked through and gazed about the Headmaster's office.

"Albus? I'm coming on through."

Then he stepped through, his wooden leg thumping loudly on the floor. A brief flick of his wand banished all of the soot that had collected on him and his bright blue magical eye swirled in its socket.

"Good morning Alistair. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Mad-Eye frowned at the teapot suspiciously and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm just here to tell the laddie what to expect at Headquarters and then escort him through the floo." His eye swirled over to take in the sight of Harry in all his leonine glory.

"Of course, of course." Professor Dumbledore murmured softly.

Mad-Eye stumped over to them and then leaned heavily on his walking stick.

"I'll give you fair warning, lad. While we were able to remove and undo most of the hexes and curses on the building itself, there's still a bit left to do. Most of the Dark artifacts and such has been moved into one of the rooms we're using as storage. The door to that room and to the Library is locked and warded. That's for everyone's safety, including yours. So don't try and sneak in to have a look-see."

He frowned a bit harder and his real eye studied Harry with an intense expression. "If you are really interested in what's inside, you wait for someone to take you in there. We'll be opening those rooms up at various times to catalog the items and see if the curses and hexes on them can be broken."

Professor Dumbledore tilted his head slightly and pursed his lips in thought. "That might not be such a bad idea, Alistair. Harry would do well to learn how to detect Dark items and cursed artifacts."

Harry grinned as much as he could with his reshaped jaw.

"That would be wonderful, Professor. I'd really like that."

Two eyebrows, one on each of the older men, raised up in question at his enthusiasm.

"Uh, you see, I've been thinking. I'm not sure about becoming an Auror anymore. Not that I have anything against Aurors, but the Ministry isn't exactly filling me with confidence. Maybe with Fudge out of the picture that'll change, but…" Harry shrugged. "I've been thinking of alternate careers lately. Cursebreaking sorta seems like a good one. The opportunity to learn more about it could help me make a decision."

Mad-Eye chuckled. His voice was a rough rumble of amusement.

"Well, I can promise you lots of chances to pick Weasley's brain. He'll be over quite a bit this summer. Black's got a lot of cursed knick-knacks and books in that house of his. He wants to try and salvage or redeem whatever he can and then destroy the things that can't be fixed. You'll also get plenty of opportunities to practice your charms and transfiguration techniques since he wants to redecorate the place."

Putting his teacup down, Harry practically bounced out of his chair and then patted down his pockets to be certain he didn't lose any of his stuff. Then, practically purring in delight, he bounded over to the fireplace.

"Just remember, my boy." Professor Dumbledore flashed him a serious look over the tops of his half-moon glasses. "You need to devote some time to your meditation and mental arts."

Harry nodded. "I will Professor."