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ATOMIX; Chapter 03: Case of the Vanishing Dust
🕑 Added 2024-05-03 13:54:46 +0000 UTCHello my dear Patron family, here's chapter Three of ATOMIX. I hope you like it!
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Author out!
"I am Talking."
'I am Thinking'
Spells
ATOMIX
-Dev Sagittarius Black-
~~Chapter 3: Case of the Vanishing Dust~~
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The entity was on me, they were on my chest, closing my mouth with one hand while using a sharp cold blade with another. I tried to move my hands but just then there was a snap of fingers and both my hands were restrained by a thick rope.
I had just witnessed my captor do non-verbal, wandless magic . . . and that frightened me.
"Mmph . ."
"Who dare be sleeping in great master Regulus' rooms?" The voice croaked and I immediately understood from the butchered English that it was a house-elf. Probably one of the still alive ones from House Black.
"Mmph . ."
"Tell Kreacher who you be or Kreacher be slicing your filthy throat, mudblood!" The elf growled and pressed the knife more. Yes oh so genius elf, poke me to speak while shutting my mouth at the same time. It was a useless endeavor to try and speak with the creature pressing his entire weight so close to my mouth.
I tried my level best to either get rid of the hand blocking my mouth, or get rid of the elf, or get rid of the rope binding my hands, but unfortunately, nothing worked. The house-elf was too heavy considering how thin and frail house elves usually were, and his hold on my mouth was quite strong.
The knife pressed my skin and I actually felt it pierce. Weirdly enough, there wasn't any pain, which confused me, because I distinctly felt some sort of liquid dripping down the side of my neck.
"This be Kreacher's great master Regulus' room." The elf carried on, "Dirty mudbloods, bad creatures, and filthy blood-traitors like youâs should not be entering good master's room!"
What was the elf going on about? I wasn't a muggleborn, nor was I a creature or a âblood-traitorâ. Well, as far as I knew, I was a half-blood. But maybe the house-elf just didn't want to hear me out.
"The usurper be dying tonight!" The elf raised the blade, it was extremely sharp and pointed at my face. And when your death is a few inches from you, what do you do? Yes, you thank every god and goddess for this life and ask for another chance. When asking didnât work, I decided that taking my life into my own hands by force.
I made one last attempt to free myself from the binds. It was then that I felt it again. The sensation that I had felt a few weeks ago when I learned that my relatives were dead. It was weird to feel that same sensation again, but right now it probably wasnât the best time to contemplate such things.
It was as if I was connected to every single thing that was placed about two meters in my vicinity. As if I had somehow got connected to each and everything, I could feel it. I could feel the objects, I could feel the shapes, I could feel how far they were and their exact position.
It almost felt surreal to know everything in the dark, even when I couldn't see anything.
I even felt the wrinkly old house-elf that was sitting on my chest, the way it was crouched and was shivering a bit, the way his thin hand tried to prevent me from speaking. Everything.
I concentrated a bit more and I could feel the ropes that were around my torso. I wanted to get rid of them and so, I tried to break-free once more. Surprisingly, I wasnât met by any resistance this time. It was almost as if I was moving my hand through water. There was some resistance but it was nothing I couldnât handle with ease.
And then, I did it. My hands were released and I immediately caught both hands of the house-elf. I twisted the one with a knife enough to let the knife fall on the bed before sitting up and throwing the elf down on the floor.
I winced a bit when the elf fell unceremoniously on the floor with a loud 'thump' and groaned in pain. I didn't waste any time and immediately flicked my wand out of the holster, "Lumos"
Pure white light filtered in the dark room and both of us crinkled our eyes to let them adjust to the sudden light. For the first time I took a good look at the house-elf, he looked a lot like the other house-elves I had seen, like Dobby and Winky. He was a measly little thing, very frail and old, and as thin as a stick. To think that he was able to not only sneak-in but almost succeeded in killing me was a little scary.
"Who are you?!" I demanded as the elf slowly groaned pitifully.
"Kreacher be Kreacher, loyal house-elf of Noble and Most Ancient House of the Blacksâ, the old thing whined, as it struggled against me.
"The Blacks?" I asked, "Then you might know of my godfather, the current owner of this house, Sirius Black."
The elf's eyes flashed with anger as he sneered, "Blood traitor master, Kreacher be knowings the blood traitor master. Oh, how Kreacher be wishing it was him who died instead of great master Regulus.â The house-elf sobbed, and I knew that this house-elf wasn't stable in his head.
Were all house-elves like this, or do I just get the crazy ones? I mean there was Dobby, the hyperactive and excitable elf who had tried to protect me by seriously maiming me. Even Winky wasnât really all there when we talked to her last year. So, maybe yes?
"Your master Sirius gave me this room", I announced to the elf who sneered again, "This is my room for the time being, so don't come inside the room and don't dare try to kill me again or next time, I'll put the knife in you instead." I knew that I wouldn't, but the elf didn't need to know that.
The house-elf didn't say anything after that and slowly stood up from his prone position, âMistress would be so very angry. Dirty half-bloods be walkings around her house, filthy creatures being welcomes in the Noble house of Blacks.â The elf rambled as he started to move out of the room, âA shame . . . a shame, indeed.â
I sighed, finally alone in the room after the assassination attempt. I picked up the knife and saw the thin coating of red on the edge of the blade. This just proved that the elf had indeed pierced my skin at that time.
I touched my neck at the point where the elf had pierced my skin and frowned because neither did it hurt nor was there any wound or any other indication that told me about the point where my skin was punctured.
Weird. Still, I tried to push it to the back of my mind. A wave of tiredness fell on me and I knew that I needed to catch some sleep, thinking about anything else right now wouldn't help me at the moment. It'd be better to think about it later. This is a problem for future Harry.
I kept the knife at the bedside table and picked up the broken rope. I was still surprised that I was able to break free of the rope but it might be a case of accidental magic, I really donât care right now. Still, whatever it was, it hadn't prepared me for the shock that came when I looked at the rope.
The thick black rope was completely fine. It wasn't broken anywhere. In fact, there was not a single sign of force or tension on the rope! This meant that the rope didn't break at all. 'But if I didn't break the rope . . .' I looked at the long unbroken rope and then at my arms, '. . . then how did I free myself from the binding?'
â
I woke up the next day to someone knocking on my door. It was Sirius, and he was grinning at me like a loon. I swear that there's nothing good about a middle-aged man in your room while grinning at you like that, but I didn't voice it out.
"Morning, kiddo," He greeted and stepped inside the room, my trunk floated behind him. "Hope you slept well?"
"It was better than the hospital bed, so yeah, I did." I told him as I opened my trunk and pulled out my daily utilities. It's a good thing that he brought them or I would have had to go and get them myself, thatâd have been such a hassle. And if my best-mate would somehow happen to be in the room, there would have been even more drama.
Sirius immediately noticed the thick black rope and the knife that was placed on the bedside table. He asked, grinning teasingly, "What's all this, Harry? Something you want to tell us?"
I shrugged in response, ignoring what Sirius was talking about, "A house-elf by the name of Kreacher visited me last night. He told me that he was angry about anyone else sleeping in his great master Regulusâ bed. Kept saying that the Noble-"
â-and Most Ancient House of Black is falling to disgrace, I knowâ, Sirius groaned in response and rubbed his forehead, "I should have ordered that blasted little thing to stay out of this room." He sighed, "I guess it was quite an experience, huh?"
I nodded, "He was pretty vocal, yeah." I was about to tell him about the event in detail but I figured what's done was done and I wouldn't be able to explain the accidental magic I performed which released me from the ropes, or how there was blood on the knife but not a scratch on me. So, it was a moot point to say a word.
"For what it's worth, don't take that house-elf's word to heart," Sirius muttered. "He's been off the rocker ever since my 'darling' mother left us in peace. I'll see to it that he doesn't disturb you from now on."
I just gave a noncommittal shrug, it wasn't like the elf would try to assassinate me again after I gave him a warning, but it might be good for the demented little bastard to be off of my back permanently. That would be one less creature that would try to kill or maim me.
That reminded me, âHey, Sirius, I forgot to ask you before but whereâs Buckbeak?â The Hippogriff had been quite helpful in Siriusâ escape from Hogwarts and the clutches of the Ministry, I am sure the creature was probably here somewhere, since it was like Sirius, death warrant and everything. Hopefully, it will be here, I liked it.
Sirius chuckled, âOh, he is in the Attic. Molly feeds him ferrets every day, you know? Bloody bird gave my motherâs portrait a heart-attack, you shouldâve seen it,â he laughed harder.
âYour motherâs portrait?â
âAh yes, you havenât met the lovely Lady Black, have you?â Sirius sighed and I got the distinct impression that this Lady Black wasnât as lovely as my godfather worded it out. Oh well, how bad could a portrait be, right? Also, itâs not like I was actively searching for her last night, I already had enough on my plate.
âI hope that you donât have to ever meet Walburga Black, Harry,â Sirius said, âI want you to stay clear of the entrance corridor, you saw the moth-eaten curtain on the wall, yeah? Sheâs behind that. Do not, in any circumstance, remove the curtains. Ever.â
Sirius added as an afterthought, âAlso, donât make noise near that thing. Somehow, it always wakes her up.â He sighed and muttered, âMolly and her always end in a screaming match.â
The seriousness in his voice made me nod my head, though some part of my mind wanted to meet this Walburga Black, just for the sake of it. It was like an itch that you can ignore, but why ignore it when you can simply scratch it? But, for the sake of it, I agreed with Sirius and picked up my toiletries.
"Where's Hedwig?" Sirius asked me when he spotted that the bird was missing in the room.
"I let her out last night, she might be hunting right now." I opened my door, "Will probably be back soon," I told him before I stepped outside in the corridor, "Bathroom?"
"Third door to the left," Sirius told me as he got up too, âIâll see you down in the kitchen then?â he asked me and I nodded as we parted ways. I tried to think of many things to distract my mind but my thoughts seemed to return to the question of how I was able to break through the rope without actually breaking it, how my skin healed even though there was my blood on the blade and most importantly, what was that sensation I had felt and where had I felt it before this?
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to come to any conclusion except labeling it as another bout of accidental magic that had helped me when I was just about to die, and that didn't make me feel better. So, like the rest of Magical Britain, I stopped thinking.
â
As I entered the kitchen, the first thing I noted was that I was one of the early risers, because the kitchen was pretty much empty except for two.
I knew the short and stout gait of Mrs Weasley, her flaming red hair and gown was a big giveaway as she worked something on the stove. That begged the question, did the woman ever take a break? All I had seen her do was cook. Cooking for the entire house was definitely not an easy task, she should probably take a break.
Still, my attention wasn't on the Weasley matriarch, it was on the other woman who was standing beside her and stirring the pot.
Short and spiky bubblegum pink hair, navy blue âWeird Sistersâ T-shirt and cargo pants. There was only one person, who I knew was actually crazy enough to wear this.
"Tonks?â
Tonks turned her head, and gave a cherry wave with the ladle, âWotcher, Harry!â
âTonks, you are spilling the gravy,â Mrs Weasleyâs voice cut in, âPut the ladle back in the pot.â
Tonks did so and Mrs Weasley turned to greet me, âOh, you are up quite early, Harry dear. Worry not, breakfast is almost ready, even if Nym- Tonks is helping me today.â
The two of us laughed at that and ignored Tonks' indignant âHEY!â as I sat at the table and Mrs Weasley returned back to the stove. I offered to help her and was asked to set the table.
Mrs Weasley went towards the staircase and loudly announced that the breakfast was ready and would be finished within ten minutes if they didn't come. I helped the women with laying the dishes and took a seat on the table with Tonks beside me.
âSo, how did you sleep, got any not so decent dreams about me?â Tonks winked at me and I was comfortable enough in my masculinity to say that, at first, I didnât do much at first except try to stutter out a response, which made her laugh.
I controlled my embarrassment and responded, âI slept well, what about you?â
I am a genius of social interaction. This is so much better, yeah. Absolutely.
âSame, I also didnât have any indecent dreams about you, isnât that sad?â Tonks chuckled again, and Mrs Weasley started to admonish her on her behavior. Fortunately for me, I was saved from more embarrassment as the topics turned more normal after that.
Soon enough, Hermione and the others joined us, though they were surprised to see Tonks, which told me that Tonks wasnât a permanent resident here. I guess, that does make sense, why should she be? After that, the breakfast table became a fish market from the numerous conversations going on at once.
Fred and Fredâyes, they were both Fred todayâjoked with Sirius and Remus about one of their pranks (Remus was trying to hide how much he liked a particularly mean prank), Hermione was on Tonkâs other side and the two girls had immediately started talking about things that I had little to no idea about, I think it is either related to the Ministry or a muggle movie. Ginny took her seat beside me, and the two of us talked in between the chaos. I wasn't upset with her for not responding, but it was kind of annoying to converse with someone who blushes every time they look into your eyes, not to mention her stuttering every other sentence..
Ron was the only one who wasn't doing any talking, probably because he was stuffing his face with breakfast, but it didn't matter. He looked at me twice and I simply ignored the redhead. I was more inclined to talk with Hermione than him. Hermione probably understood my mood and didn't bring me into any of the conversations.
âChildren, I want you to work on the first floor todayâ, said Mrs Weasley as the breakfast slowly trudged towards its end, âI want you to pair up as before, and Harry dear, I assume youâll want to work with Ron and Hermione, no? They can even show you around the house.â
âMrs Weasley, I donât think-â I began, but Hermioneâs voice broke me off.
âYes, thank you, Mrs Weasley,â said Hermione, âWeâll be glad to show Harry around, I am finished with my breakfast anyways,â She then looked at me and gave one of her âI-Know-what-to-doâ stares that she did when she used to teach us something before the exams, which usually meant âshut-up-and-followâ.
âYou are done with the breakfast too, Harry?â She asked me and I gave a simple shrug, âGood, come with me, weâll start with the first room.â With just that, my muggleborn friend pulled me out of the chair, and started dragging me towards the door.
â I donât want either one of you to go somewhere that isnât safe, am I clear?â Mrs Weasleyâs voice rang from behind us. Tonks added, and I could hear her grin, âDefinitely not somewhere where anyone can catch you two snogging!â
Both of us blushed at Tonksâ suggestion. âWe wonât!â Hermione replied back, âAnd we will be in plain sight, so you know we wonât be snogging!â She added, and with that, we were out of the dining room, controlling our Tonks-induced-embarrassment and moving towards the staircase and up to the first level.
We picked a rag from a portable rack that had a bucket of water at the bottom, and I took a dusty shelf while she took the door. I knew I should have asked more about why we were doing this but my mind was already preoccupied with many things that I needed to sort through. I was starting to think like I would soon need a checklist with the way things just kept on adding.
Wow, that sounded too much like something Hermione would say. Didnât she have a list for her Spew too? Speaking of Hermione . . .
I looked at said girl, and it was quite obvious that she wanted to speak to me. Well, that was good, because I definitely had more than a few questions for her as well, but which one of us should be the first to ask? I chanced another glance at her and saw her hesitating a bit, something that I had never seen her do before. Curiosity gnawed at me, I wondered what she wanted to ask.
She had been one of my first friends, she had supported me throughout the fourth year too and had even tried to contact me this year, despite the fact that Dumbledore had obviously asked her not to.
All in all, I felt like a selfish and ignorant prat now. I mean, Ron was obviously at fault, he had acted like a twat, but Hermione had somewhat tried to make contact. No matter how feeble of an attempt it was. Is that enough to feel guilty over? No, but I do feel that way.
âHarry . . .â She began, âHow are you?â
And suddenly, the guilty thoughts vanished. âQuite late to ask that, donât you think?â I winced a bit as I immediately realized how angry my words sounded, I really needed to work on my brain-to-mouth filter.
âHarry, we tried. I mean, I did,â Hermione said as she chewed on her lower lip, something that she did when she was troubled, âThe phone call was my idea of telling a few things to you. I figured out that the Death Eaters would never even think of tapping the phones, right? I was worried that you'd end up doing something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news.â
âWhat a splendid idea! Tell a boy that you canât tell him much and to just stay where he is, and then wait for him to work things all out on his own without doing anything stupid,â I seethed, âAs if that had worked well for the last five years, I guess you all thought that being alone would be my comfort zone by now. Especially right after Cedric died in front of me . . .â
Hermione looked down in shame, and for some reason I was torn between comforting the girl and relishing in the power I held over her. Again, this was a weird thing because, why would I even want to enjoy the feeling of causing harm to my friend?
There was a pregnant pause and I could see Hermione was horrified, she didnât know how to come to terms with what I had just said but it was all true. It was entirely stupid of her to assume that I would be perfectly fine with just being told not to do anything when Voldemort literally came back in front of my eyes. And I, his biggest enemy, according to others at least, should just âstay putâ and wait for others to come to my rescue like some damsel in distressâŚyeah, fat chance of that happening.
âI really tried, you know,â she said. âI wanted to contact you, maybe even visit you. Just so I could tell you a few things.â She averted her eyes.
âI am still waiting for why you didnât.â
Hermione frowned at me but continued, âIt was more like âcouldnâtâ, because the day I called you, somehow professor Dumbledore knew, or maybe it was just a coincidence? I donât know,â She shrugged, âBut he was in my house by noon, and by the time I went to meet him, he had convinced my parents that it was in my best interests to join a âsummer campâ that was started by the school for its star pupils.â
I couldnât help but smirk, this was the most obvious lie that the headmaster could have told to a muggleborn or a muggle raised half-blood, and they would have fallen head-first into it. Case-in-point, the Grangers, obviously.
âAnd you didnât tell your parents that it was some lie?â I asked her, actually quite surprised that she would do that.
âWell, yeah,â She hesitated a bit, âBut this is Dumbledore we are talking about, right? Itâs not like he has some nefarious plans. So, I just went along with it and I ended up here.â
I had more than a few doubts regarding Dumbledore and his good-hearted nature because of the way he had been treating me lately, but I felt that it was better to not voice it to her lest I end up getting a lecture on why Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive.
Wow, I sounded exactly like a ponce, a Malfoy and a Slytherin, three things that I do not particularly like. Damn, was that hat correct about me being great in Slytherin? I hope not.
âSo, you have been here since then?â
âYeah, and all I â no, we â have been doing is to try to get in on the meetings that are conducted once-a-week and scrub these dirty floorboards and shelves everyday.â She threw the rag that she had held on one of the shelves and I saw a cloud of dust rise from it.
I sighed. This really wasnât her fault, was it? All she had done was contact me one day and then somehow the Headmaster had decided to drop down and take her away. I wanted to think that it was just a coincidence, but for some reason, I didnât want to trust the headmaster anymore.
But there was something that was more important to do right now than thinking about how Dumbledoreâs mind functioned.
âSorry . . .â I apologized but didnât say anything else as I turned back to my dirty shelf. The only thing that told me about the oncoming missile was the hair standing on the back of my neck and the shift in the air. It was momentary but I thought that I felt it once more, the feeling of being connected to everything at once.
And then- âOomph-!â I staggered a few steps ahead and maintained my balance, âGive me a warning first.â
âShut upâ Hermione said, her voice muffled as she was hugging me tightly, I could almost feel my ribs breaking, but thankfully it didnât come to that and I was released from her death-grip.
âYouâre a prat, you know that, right?â She slapped my arm lightly and I couldnât help but chuckle at the way she looked at me, âItâs not a laughing matter, I was worried about you, so much that I almost thought that you might not want to talk to me ever again,â She said in her usual breathless manner, âRon still thinks that, by the way.â She looked at me pointedly at that.
But I shook my head, âHe has proven time and again that he isnât as reliable as we thought him to be. No, wait, let me explain,â I stopped her just as she had opened her mouth, âHe is a good friend, yes, but we both know that somewhere deep down a few things that hold him back, things that he doesnât do anything about, except accept them. Last year, he had to see me almost die again to realize that maybe I didnât put my name in the Goblet. Now, this mess, I donât know what else to say.â
âHe isnât perfect, Harry,â said Hermione, âNo one is, all of us have our faults.â
âAnd yet, you and I somehow connect, donât we?â I pointed at us, and she stayed silent, âI am not saying that I wonât talk to him ever again or we will stop being friends with him, all I am saying is he needs to come to terms with a few things on his own and I am not going to be the one to apologize this time, I tried that last year and we know how it worked out.â
My friend gave me a most disappointed look but I simply didnât care. I know I am correct, and I wasnât planning on backing down anytime soon. If Ron didnât see things my way, then I am not going to bend over backwards to befriend him again and again. This time, heâll have to come to terms with things first.
âI just want that both of you stop being morons and be back to yourselves, Dumbledore made us swear to not tell you anything that was happeningâ, she said. âHe seemed to think you were safest with your relatives.â
âOh yeah?â I snarked, âWere you too victim of a house bombing this summer?â
âWell, no,â She sighed, âBut thatâs why he had the members from the Order looking after you the entire time.â
And then, I felt really angry at that admission. It seemed like everyone knew that I was being followed except me. Dumbledore had the patience to do all of this, yet he never even sent a single letter himself to ask, or tell me anything. Just wow.
I didnât say anything. Instead, I went back to the shelf that I was cleaning.
âHe was furious, you know,â Hermione, it seemed, was intent on continuing the conversation, âProfessor Dumbledore was absolutely livid when he found out Mundungus Fletcher had left his shift early. I donât think Iâve ever seen him that angry at anyone.â
âWell, I am glad that he did. If he hadnât, then the dementor attack would have been successful, and who knows what would have happened then.â
âYou know the Patronus Charm, Harry,â she reasoned, âYou couldâve-â
âCouldâve what? Scared the dementors away and got another Ministry complaint against me? No thanks, I already have two complaints of underage magic,â I grumbled, âAnd this time the Ministry is against me, which would make it especially bad.â
âWell, itâs a good thing that it didnât come to that, right?â She tried to be cheerful but I wasnât in the mood. Somehow the dank and dark room flooded with cobwebs and dust represented it. The only thing that was remotely better in the room were the lamps that were lit on the walls around us.
âSo, Sirius told you everything last night?â Hermione began, âYou know about the articles and all that?â
âArticles that say I am lying?â I muttered and didnât need to see her wince, âYeah, he did tell me that it was all a campaign started by Fudge because he was being an idiot.â
âTotally! I mean, who does he think is after his position? You? A school boy?â She shook her head, âThis feels just like the time we told him about Siriusâ innocence and he rebuffed us.â
âBloody politicians.â
âHarry! Language!â Hermione admonished me but I just didnât care. I was too angry with the Minister to care about a curse word.
âYou know he deserves every insult and more. All of the curses, in fact. He just doesnât want to admit to things, even when he himself heard Crouch Jr tell him everything,â I slammed my hand on the shelf, âAnd then he said that acromantula venom was making me hallucinate. Tell me Hermione, why would I hallucinate Voldemort of all people?â
âI donât know why he is behaving like that, Harry, admitting that You-know-Who did return would only help us prepare against him when the time comes.â
âSirius reckons that itâs probably because Fudge knows heâs useless as a war-time minister. So, he is trying all he can to extend his tenure.â I shrugged, âI just want him to see the threat before itâs too late, I donât think the Order alone could stand against him and all his death eaters.â
Hermione didnât say anything at that, so I gave her a look and I saw that her face contorted in concentration, as if she was thinking really hard about something and trying to solve some mystery that had been unsolvable till now.
âWhat?â
âNothing, I was just thinking of how much you actually know and if thereâs something that you donât, because it seems like Sirius and Remus have told you everything that I could.â
I thought about it. I didnât think there was anything that she could tell me about the Order that Sirius or Remus couldnât. Wait, there was something I wanted to know, but the problem was that I didnât know what I was actually asking for, or how to word my question without sounding insane.
âI â err â wanted to know if you know something about, I mean,â I tried to think of words, âOkay, well, do you know something about a sensation thatmakesyoufeeleverything?â By the gods it sounded much better in my head.
Hermione frowned at that, â. . . what?â
âUgh . . forget it, nevermindâ, I waved her off and was about to return to the shelf when she stopped me.
âUh, no - no, I want to help. I am curious now,â She tried, âCan you just speak it a bit more clearly?â
I took a deep breath and prayed that this attempt would be better than my previous ones, âI â err â well . . . â
Nope, it wasnât working. My brain was really just repeating the words again and again as if that would suddenly give me better words. âGenius move, brain, you made me proud today.â
And now I was being sarcastic with myself while my friend looked at me as if I was a lunatic. Brilliant.
âSo, I wanted to know,â I began once more, âHave you, I donât know, sometimes felt like you are connected to everything around yourself? I mean, not physically connected, of course. More mentally or maybe magically connected?â I donât think that I did a good enough job with explaining it, so I tried again, âLike you could feel everything around yourself down to its current position, shape and size?â
There! That was all I could have made it out without sounding like a blithering fool. Even though Hermioneâs expression wasnât giving me the confidence that I needed to succeed in my venture, still I kept my mouth shut and waited.
âConnected . . . like bonded with something physically or just touching it?â She asked.
âMore like knowing where it was without any form of physical connection or touch,â I tried once more, âI know it sounds dumb, leave it. It was probably my imagination going wild anyway.â
âNo, wait, Harry!â She jumped, âDonât throw it off, it could be something.â
âIt sounds more like a case of nothing to meâ, I shook my head, âI really think I was imagining things, maybe itâs a side effect from my coma in the hospital?â
âCould be, but we canât be sure till we have ruled out other possibilities, right?â For some reason it seemed she was more eager to solve this than I was, but I guess it was quite Hermione of her to be fascinated with a puzzle that she couldnât solve.
âWell? Got some ideas that might help?â
âNot completely,â She muttered, âBut there was something I once read. Remember our third year, when I had the time-turner?â She continued as I nodded, âThe device was messing up with my brain, so I went to the library, since I was a bit worried that it might be affecting my mind.â
âDonât you think professor McGonagall would have pre-cautioned you if it actually did something like that?â I asked her, amused that she would get worried over something like this.
âThatâs not the point, Harryâ, She glared at me, âWell, back then, I read a few books on obscure mind arts like meditation, Occlumency and magical sensitivity to artifacts and other types of magic in general.â
She said that they were a few books but, in reality, they could have been ten thick tomes, you never know with Hermione. Anyway, I had to admit, this was something I had no idea about, which meant that anything would be helpful in solving the mystery around that phenomenon and where else I had felt it before or how to do it again for that matter.
âItâs been sometime since I read those and they actually never helped my cause so I never tried to go back to them againââ
âAnd there goes my hope aboutââ
â âbut that doesnât mean that I canât help you out with itâ, Hermione hastily added, âIn fact, I think you can help yourself too, if youâre up for some extra reading.â
âYou have those books here?â I was honestly surprised that she did.
âNot me, but someone else does,â She said in a smug manner, âWell, the Black family library of course! They are said to be almost as old as Hogwarts, I wouldn't be surprised if they had a few books on mind arts and magical sensitivity.â
âBut how do you think I would - Oh . . .â I trailed off as I caught on.
âYes, Harry,â She smirked, âSirius. Ask him, he will help you out with the books, and I will join you as soon as I finish my work here. Then, we can work on the books together, sounds good?â
Honestly? No. It seemed like pointless research work that would yield no results. Plus I would have to ask for books from Sirius, who will definitely ask the reasons for my sudden curiosity in the esoteric mind arts, but I couldnât say that now, could I? So, I did what I usually do.
âYeah, sounds goodâ, I smiled, âThanks Hermione,â I saw her blush a bit and then we went back to our respective cleaning niches.
Soon enough, Ron joined us. My back was turned to him so I wasnât really sure but I was sure that Hermione might have made some indications to the ginger so that he should talk to me. He looked like he wanted to, but then he simply picked the long stick and started clearing out the cobwebs instead.
I sighed at that. I had half expected him to be the most forward and to just shout it out like he always did, but this time he was keeping it quiet and that didnât suit his behavior at all.
Well, good for us I guess, because I am not in my most forgiving mood right now, and I donât think Mrs Weasley would want to play the pacifist to an early morning shouting match between her son and his best friend. Something that I knew was inevitable.
I dusted the shelf, paying special attention to the cracks in the wood and the few items that were placed on it. How was this weak thing even standing? It had cracks in the shelves and there were random splinters here and there.
Then there was this thick layer of dust and dirt. It was as if it was a breeding ground for the termites and other microbes that were infesting it, and since we were tasked with cleaning things like this without magic, this is an even more dangerous situation. I shook my head, if only I could have used my magic, I would have simply vanished this dust and maybe cast a few Reparo spells on the shelf to-
My mind was flooded with bright lights and I gasped a bit. I could faintly hear both Hermione and Ron call out my name, but that wasnât where my mind was focused. No, it was focused on the feeling.
This feeling.
This phenomenon.
I was in some kind of zone again.
I could feel it. I could feel everything.
My fingers touched the wooden shelf and I could feel it completely. Its size, shape, the cracks in it, the splinters. The things placed on it and their exact positions. Even the depth of the part of the shelf that was lodged in the wall.
Most of all, I could feel all the creatures infesting the nooks and crannies of the shelves and the floorboards that were beneath me.
I could even feel the uneven layer of dust that laid on the shelves, on the floor and the sparse amount that floated around me.
And then I felt it vanish and fill the cracks in the shelf.
Just as abruptly it had started, my connection to âThe Zoneâ was cut-off. Suddenly, the world dimmed around me and everything was normal again. As if nothing weird had happened at all and everything was just like it was before âthe phenomenonâ began . . .
All except one thing, because weirdly enough, when I next saw things clearly, all the dust from the shelf had vanished. The shelf was spotlessly clean. More than that, all the cracks were repaired and except for the peeled off paint, the shelf both looked and felt as sturdy and strong as a new one.
It looked like I had used magic, even when I knew that I hadnât.
âHa - Harry?â Hermioneâs worried tone broke my attention and I turned to look at my friends. Both of them were looking shocked at me and then the shelf.
âI-â I began but then stopped myself. What could I say? That I was in that zone again? Would they even believe me? Hermione might try to give me another theory and Ron would just shrug it off as another oddity that he would associate with me.
It wasnât something I could explain to either of them, anyway. Not unless I was myself sure of what it was that was happening to me. So I did the only thing that seemed to be the best option at that moment.
I ran. It was time to find Sirius and get those damn books on Mind magics and magical sensitivity. It was time to get some answers to this weirdness around me.
And I would be damned if I didnât sort this shit as soon as bloody possible.
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Ending Note: There you have it fellas, chapter Three of ATOMIX, hope you liked it.
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