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You Sent My Luggage Where?
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Post-OotP, Alternate Universe, Harry's Magical Trunk Challenge (2007-3)
Characters:All, All, All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 12
Summary: ** Winner of Best Trunk Design in the Harry’s Magical Trunk Challenge **
Harry, Ginny and friends are about to begin their search for the horcruxes. You can't expect our heroes to carry their toothbrushes, wool socks and fan fiction stories in their pockets now do you? What Harry doesn't expect is what comes with his new trunk. Written for the Harry's Magical Trunk 2007 Challenge.
Hitcount: Story Total: 6809



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
A/N: For those of you who have never met this story’s narrator Spenser, he is an original character I invented and utilize in most of my work. He provides perspective, explains my Americanisms while writing and often acts as the target of puns and disasters. He is not me, and is rather a composite of three of my friends’ teenage sons (who provide me with great material). I’m old, grumpy, and much more like Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.




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You Sent My Luggage Where?

By Spenser Hemmingway


Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel
never belongs to anyone?
”–-Erma Bombeck



“You are not going back to their house Harry, and that’s final. I don’t care what you promised Professor Dumbledore.”
“Ginny, I have to. We discussed this. We’ve all discussed it. This is something that has to be done.”

“I don’t care what we have talked about. I’ve…I’ve changed my mind. The Dursleys are far too cruel to you. They make you work about their house like an over-sized, hyperactive house-elf while they sit back and do nothing but eat Bon Bons and read fly-fishing journals.”

“Actually, Aunt Petunia is a maniacal housecleaner in her own right,” Harry accurately pointed out. Ginny and he had had this discussion several times before. He didn’t want a repeat performance, but knew that it was unavoidable, especially as they were en route back to the Dursleys’.

“They’ll no doubt beat you, lock you in your room for long periods of time, and even force you to eat leftover food.”

“What’s leftover food?” Ron asked. Thinking back on my own dining experiences with him, all the Weasley brothers in fact, I am perfectly confident that it was a legitimate question. “Seriously mate, you’re all done-in. You haven’t really slept in days, and now you want to go back in with your relatives. That’s almost mental. Dumbledore would understand it if you came back to the Burrow with us for a few days to get some rest. It would be good medicine for you Harry.”

It was late July, and not too long before Harry’s seventeenth birthday and his status as a legal adult Wizard. The summer had provided Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and him with a number of short adventures, but they always led him back to 4 Privet Drive and his overbearing relatives. Despite having just participated in a work-study internship for Hogwarts seventh-years, Harry had still not made a formal commitment to return to the school.

Instead, the four friends were considering whether their priority should be finding and destroying the remaining Horcruxes. That would, in turn, set the stage for the inevitable meeting with Voldemort…someday. Harry was not sure what bothered him more at the moment. The enormity of their mission, the prospect of placing his friends in clear danger as they worked together, or the thought of the final culminating event that could very well result in his own death.

The others had finally convinced Harry that he was a stronger, more capable person with his friends…his family standing beside him. Ron had even surprised his best friend by insisting that he needed to reconcile with Ginny. The two did, but agreed it had to be the best-kept secret since my first novel, The Water Buffalo and I (still available at fine yard sales everywhere).

“And I’m supposed to lie around and…no. Ron, you know I love the Burrow, and I really appreciate the offer, but I can’t go back on my promise to him about the Dursleys,” Harry continued then. “I’ve already broken my word once by telling Ginny about the Dark artifacts. Besides, he told me that my being with the Dursleys continues the protections on the house and my bloody relatives. Ginny, it’s only for a few more days. I’m already counting them down. Ginny?” She simply gave Harry a fierce look that caused him both concern and a small bit of trepidation.

The second time that I encountered Ginny and Harry, and saw the two of them together, it was as obvious as my ex-girlfriend’s mustache that these two were crazy in love. It had been an accidental encounter with them that afternoon. They were slow dancing to a tune on the Wizard wireless, and the mutual affection just radiated off the pair. Of course, I was sworn to secrecy about their relationship, but nonetheless I began to pay more attention to the two of them together. Yes, it was a classic love story, but beyond the simple romance, they were completely perfect together. Being a couple that way goes beyond simple flowers and long kisses; it’s the day-to-day activities that also define the relationship. At the moment, neither of them felt things were going well at all.

“Ginny?” Harry repeated in a soft voice, still hoping to defuse her rising anger. In response, she quickly spun around, ran back up the alleyway from which they were about to emerge, and in mid-step Disapparated off.

“I wish she hadn’t done that.” Ron and Harry both gave Hermione a disapproving look, no doubt feeling it wasn’t the right time for a lecture on underage magic. “Harry, you and she really needed to finish this…to resolve it before we left.” The boys immediately sighed, embarrassed that they had misjudged her message.

“We’ll talk to her for you mate. She understands I think. She just doesn’t like leaving you with them,” Ron finally said. The three walked out into the late morning light of the sidewalk, quiet and deep in thought for a full block.

“Harry, we really need to… Uhm, I mean we’ll have to tell Ron’s parents that it was an emergency Apparation. Yes, that’s it. We were separated, and she needed to escape from uh…a roving band of rabid Girl Scouts selling cookies?” Hermione cringed at Harry and Ron’s amusement and at her resorting to a pun that was worthy of me.

Hermione and I had first met a few weeks before while I was on a short visit to England from my home in Oregon. She seemed to believe that authors such as I was merely lived their lives vicariously through those about whom they write. It was several months before we actually became real friends, and she changed her opinion about my stories. Well, before we became real friends at least. With that said, you can imagine how Hermione felt about having just uttered a Spenserism.

“Oi Hermione, Mum and Dad would never believe it. The lot of us fight over the chocolate mints, and Ginny is especially partial to the peanut butter cookies,” Ron told her with a straight face, instantly lightening the girl’s mood again, especially when he followed it up with a quick kiss to her cheek.

Harry smiled as well, but then became quiet again as they walked. He couldn’t help thinking that Hermione had been about to say something completely different before her awkward change of subject. No one spoke for another five minutes, which brought them to the corner of Privet Drive where Harry abruptly stopped.

“Would you mind if I walked the last bit to my relatives’ house alone. I’ve…got some things that I want to mull over. I’ll see you both before the wedding.” Silent nods were followed by long hugs, and Harry surprised them both when he said, “You know I love you two. Don’t ever forget it.”

He turned and darted away before they could reply, literally feeling their eyes glued to his back. He didn’t doubt for a second that there were at least one more set on him, clearly sent by the Order to watch him despite his earlier objections. He desperately needed to be alone now however. He needed to rethink everything despite the sleep-derived haze that filled his head.

Now I’ve already mentioned that Harry had been convinced of the need for help in his fight against What’s-His-Smell. It had been the same argument that had been made for his returning to Hogwarts, its resources, and the opportunity to continue his training there. Perhaps it was the fatigue dulling his brain, or maybe even new issues that he hadn’t considered before, but he was beginning to have his doubts again. Was it really better to involve everyone else? Couldn’t he work better alone?

No, he knew he needed his three friends…for a variety of reasons. This naturally was especially true of Ginny, although each brought with them other assets that added to the equation. What he had to decide however was whether they should go off in secret to avoid the renewed interference from the Order, the school, and the Ministry. Any benefits those could provide would ultimately be offset in his mind by the restrictions, the secrecy, and their insistence that it was not just his fight. It was what they had done in the past, and, despite how Harry and friends had continued to prove themselves, it was what they would surely do again. Rather, it was what they would try to do again.

Harry looked up and saw that he was at the doorstep to the house. Actually, taken aback at this, he cursed himself that the exhaustion had dulled his senses to the point where he had become careless. He paused and took a deep breath, listening to the television through the open front window, but unable to establish which program it was. No doubt it was another one of the boxing matches that Dudley and his uncle now enjoyed watching religiously. Perhaps it would distract them from his arrival.

Slowly opening the door, he was pleased that the hinges remained quiet, the result of his continued applications of oil throughout the summer. Over time he had discovered and utilized any number of methods such as that to mask his activities in the house. Quietly (he thought), he moved toward the sounds in the living room only to find that it wasn’t boxing but rather a re-run of another family favorite, Doctor Who. A creak in a floorboard alerted Dudley to his arrival, and Harry once again was angry at himself. He was certain that he knew every such noisy spot in the house.

“It’s you again, is it? How long is it for this time?” Dudley asked. He seemed to be more interested in the show than he was in Harry, which was always a blessing.

“This is the last time. I’ll be leaving on the first of the month.”

“Good. Dad and Mum are at their lawn bowling tournament. They told me that you’re supposed to weed the flowerbeds today, and then start washing the greenhouse windows.”

“You mean they told you to do it. No one knew I would be back from London today. Sit back down lard-butt, or I’ll turn you into a rabbit or something worse…a game show contestant!”

“You can’t…”

“I can’t what? I’ve learned to cover my underage magic very well lately, thank you very much. I can hide…well a simple transfiguration could be masked by explaining it was one of my visiting friends who performed it, or it was an emergency defense again a wild wildebeest. That one would actually be spot on if you take another step toward me.” Harry knew that none of what he said was true, but Dudley wasn’t aware of the fact. When the four of them arrived nearby earlier, they rationalized that they could disguise it as an extremely complex four-way Side-Along-Apparation. The licensed Hermione had wanted to attempt it for months.

“Flippin’ freaks! Have you lot looked…have you seen how many of us there are compared to your kind? You’re going to be found out someday, and then we’re going to bury all of you.”

Harry knew that Dudley was right about one thing (as much as he hated to admit it). The Muggle world was enormous compared to the Wizarding one. It also offered him all manner of assets that could help them in their hunt–-the Internet, media sources, donut shops, lending libraries and archives. Harry glanced past Dudley to the television and saw that the Doctor had just entered his time machine. The famous T.A.R.D.I.S., shaped like an old police callbox, was larger on the inside than it was the outside. It occurred to Harry (remembering the Weasleys’ tent) that the idea may have come from a Wizard originally. The Doctor’s box could travel almost anywhere and anywhen, and Harry thought how extremely useful that it would be during their Horcrux search.

Enough, Harry decided. He had to get some sleep, or at least try. He did not need to get into a fight with Dudley at the moment. “I’m going to my room,” he said, turning his back on his cousin.

“Wait you! Dad said to tell you that he his sick and tired of all the weird catalogs that those birds have been dropping down our chimney. You had better put a stop to it if you know what’s good for you!”

Harry was going to ignore him, but instead paused, drew his wand, and activated a Lumos glow. He only left it on for a second, and he hoped it wasn’t enough to alert the Ministry. It had its effect however when he heard Dudley dart back into the living room again to avoid it.

Each step up the stairway was a strain on his tired muscles and, upon entering his room, the only thing that stopped him from collapsing on the bed was the small pile of catalogs. He had applied to have them sent to him from certain shops in Diagon Alley while he was performing his internship work there. I had also arranged for a couple to come from the Unites States as well. Harry, all of them in fact, knew there would be tools and resources they would need in the months ahead as they began their search. He simply hadn’t shared the fact that he might want them to be in lieu of, not in addition to, whatever Hogwarts and the Order might provide.

Harry picked them up, one by one, and began a cursory scan of their contents. Yes, there were all types of useful things–-inflatable stoves, exploding field toilets, edible flashlights, and (my personal favorite) self-filling coffee pots. As worn-out as he was, Harry wasn’t interested in too careful of an examination of the wares…until he came to the last section of a catalog from Mahoney’s Marvelous Magical Mercantile. He was suddenly very alert and very fascinated by what he had found.

“Enchanted trunks! I should have remembered that Moody had one once.” Harry selected other sales’ books that also offered the magical luggage, curled up on his bed, and began to examine and compare the features of each. Yes, someone had borrowed the idea for that police box.


*****



“What do you mean Harry wasn’t there?” Ginny screamed at Alastor Moody. The man had always been like family to all the Weasleys, and her brothers and she had even been encouraged to call him Uncle Alastor. At the moment, she wasn’t considering this fact.

“Ginny, watch the tone of your voice young lady!” her mother demanded in an equally upset voice. “Now Alastor…what the devil do you mean Harry wasn’t there?”

“I mean just that! Tonks, Remus, and I went to collect him this mornin’ just after first light. That fool uncle of his turned a few new shades of purple when he saw us at the door. Had to levitate him out of the way when he raised a fist to Tonks.”

“The family hadn’t seen Harry since the morning before when he told all of them that he wanted to spend his birthday alone. They let him,” Remus Lupin explained. “We entered his room, and all his things were gone…everything.”

“We bloody well shouldn’t have let him talk us into that extra day there! We should have physically pulled him out of there the second he turned seventeen!” Moody continued to rant.

“That’s exactly why he’s gone now!”

“Ginny!” Molly Weasley admonished again, but this time with more of a sympathetic tone.

“No Mum, she’s right,” Ron said stepping forward with Hermione close behind. They could see that she was of the same mind that he was. “All his life you’ve pushed, pulled, and prodded Harry…all of us to a point in fact. We’re all of age now except for Ginny, and she’s proven herself as much as anyone, especially of late.”

“He may be of age, but he can’t just…”

“He can’t just what Professor Lupin? Agree to be imprisoned, manipulated…kept out of the way until you can come up with a solution for this stinking war?” Ginny had stepped across the Burrow kitchen and right to the man’s face in order to make her point. He was as surprised at the action as she was that her mother had allowed it.

Now I could reference a handful of stories about what my four friends had done since Professor Dumbledore’s death, but this isn’t the place for more shameless plugs. Did I actually say that? Holy smoke! Anyway, the simple fact was that they really had proven themselves a few times, they were all growing up, and the Order seemed to again be having trouble believing and/or accepting it. Harry deserved better, and Ginny’s argument was accentuated by a mild rumbling shake of the large house (which the old place really didn’t need–-believe me).

“Mum, we’re going to find Harry,” she said then. The girl was trying to remain calm, but it was clearly a losing effort.

“You most certainly are not! When your father hears of…” Molly was cut off by an increased shaking. Everyone looked at Ginny then, somehow aware that it was her magically causing it.

“I’m sorry Mum…really,” Molly heard Ron say. A heartbeat later there was a blinding flash, and when their vision returned after a moment the three teenagers were gone.

“Fool kids! How did they get past the anti-Apparation wards on the house? Who told them the flippin’ passwords?” Moody yelled, drawing his wand and then starting for the back door. “We should never have…”

“No…we never should have,” Tonks said in a voice so quiet that it immediately got their attention. “We never should have done a number of things. They are very capable young people Alastor, and we need to tell them that when they return.”

“Harrumph! Uhm, er…that is…we need to go find all of them now though, don’t we?” With that he continued on out into the yard, and a moment later the remaining Order members heard a familiar crack.


*****



On the morning of Harry’s seventeenth birthday he rose early and once again quietly went down into the Dursley backyard. Over the past three days he had been receiving the wide assortment of magical devices and supplies there that he had ordered from the catalogs. He was now fairly confident that everything had arrived, with one significant exception–-the trunk itself. Harry had even begun to amass a great deal of Muggle items, such as groceries. Mrs. Figg was on holiday in Canterbury for a week, so Harry took the liberty of borrowing her kitchen facilities and small storage shed. The only really difficult part had been having Hedwig bring him the British Pounds exchanged by Gingotts.

That morning however, there were no other owls delivering additional purchases. Without the trunk, he would need to find another way to transport his supplies. Perhaps he could shrink all of them and carry the load with him on his broom. That however would mean waiting until dark, and he expected to be gone long before then.

Reentering the house, he was startled to find a smiling Aunt Petunia already preparing breakfast. The sun had not been up for ten minutes, but there she was frying sausages and eggs. A moment later the toast popped up, and Harry recognized the faint scent of sourdough. Most surprising was that he was usually the one expected to perform these tasks, despite only being a fair cook.

“Happy birthday,” she said, but immediately returned to her stovetop. Now he understood. She knew what day it was, and that he would soon be leaving. Well he was hungry, it all smelled incredible, and you know what they say about looking a gift hippogriff in the mouth…I mean, uhm beak. “So how are you going to spend your special day Harry?”

Yes, there it was. She was smiling like Delores Umbridge at an expulsion hearing. It was clearly her special day, not his as far as she was concerned. Aunt Petunia apparently had no qualms about letting him know this either. He decided that he had best pretend a full mouth before answering in order to preserve his meal. He quickly finished the eggs and toast but took his time with the meat. It was literally the best meal he had ever had inside the house.

“I guess I’m going to spend it packing Aunt Petunia,” he finally…and truthfully told her. Harry stood then, grabbed one last sausage, and then asked if he could be left alone the rest of the day. She nodded and continued to smile, but now he saw that it was forced.

Rushing up to his room, Harry turned and now legally sealed the door behind him. Stepping over to the wardrobe, he began to pull the few remaining clean clothes from there, and then threw them onto his bed with the dirty. He pulled the old trunk out that he had used for six years at Hogwarts, pausing for only a few seconds as a wave of memories flashed over him. He stared down at it and tried to calculate whether he could fit everything he had acquired inside, even with the shrinking spells. It would be close. Opening the trunk, Harry received his second surprise of the morning. There lay a small parcel about the size of a toaster oven and wrapped in brown paper.

Carefully picking it up and examining the box, Harry observed a number of things about it. It weighed almost nothing, made no sound when he gently shook it, and had a store label from the establishment where he had purchased the trunk. Could this have something to do with its upcoming delivery? Quickly opening the parcel, he saw that it was in fact the actual trunk. It had looked bigger in the catalog. Perhaps it was reduced in size for transport, Harry decided.

Opening the attached letter, Harry read to find that it really was the full-size trunk itself. Needless to say, it wasn’t what he was expecting. Scanning the enclosed invoice, he saw it was the model he had ordered and the magical extras he asked to have included had been.

“Well, I suppose we can test the first feature to see if that works.” Pulling the trunk (he still referred to it that way despite it being more the size of a small chest) from the cardboard box, he carried it over to his desk and then opened Hedwig’s cage. “Girl, I need you to fly over to the top of this trunk and scratch it a few times with your beak.” Without hesitating, the snowy owl did exactly as she was told…resulting in the box’s locks being deactivated.

Harry had requested a back-up locking mechanism feature that would allow Hedwig to accompany any third party and permit them access to the trunk. That had required including a feather from the particular owl with the order (which she didn’t appreciate at all). Now that it was opened, Harry could set his friends’ and his own locks and keying spells.

“All right girl, let’s see what this has inside. I hope we won’t be disappointed here.” Gently lifting the owl off to one side, Harry carefully opened the lid, sincerely hoping that it would be a pleasant surprise. The surprise part was accurate. All at once strands of multi-colored light came from the trunk, wrapped themselves around him and instantly…pulled Harry up and then straight down again.

A moment later he found himself standing in a large furnished chamber, which resembled a room in an ancient, well-maintained castle. It even had a large, blazing fireplace, shelves stocked to the ceiling with books, a long table lined with fine place-settings, and over to one side three house-elves wearing white jackets and black bowties. One end of the room was simply a waist-high stone railing, and over that a view of a vast, snowy alpine scene. If he was still on Earth, he most certainly was not in summertime England.

“Welcome most honored master…”

“Welcome where?” Harry interrupted.

“To your world sir,” the second house-elf replied. “It’s the world inside your new trunk.”

“What?” This was taking the bigger on the inside concept to infinite lengths. They were on a planet, or at least the equivalent, complete with its own mountains, valleys, sun, weather system, etc. This was supposed to be contained in that tiny box? “I don’t understand. Who are you? How is any of this possible?”

“Master Harry Potter sir, we are respectively Klinky, Clanky, and Maurice,” the first one began.

“Maurice?”

“Yes, and he did get beat up a lot in school when we were young,” the second continued. “You are really on your own world. Such things are undeniably possible good friend sir, whether you believe in them or not.”

In this case, try as he might Harry simply couldn’t…could he? The place was incredible. His head was swimming with the sights around him. He began to walk around touching…examining everything. If it was real (and he wasn’t ready to admit it yet), he had, without doubt, received an excellent bargain for his forty-five Galleons. Okay, maybe this was what it seemed.

“Would master like to have tour now of trunk castle?” Maurice asked.

“I…sure, that would be great I guess. How big is this world?”

“Just size of maybe Spain. Master purchased older model of trunk. The 1997 model has world the size of Australia–-spare castle with nice moat as well. Sun and stars are magical illusions sir, and weather systems vary with the package. You selected basic winter…”

“That’s all fine Klinky.”

“I’m Clanky good sir Harry.”

“Right…now where are you taking me?”

The group had exited the chamber through a hallway at the top of a small staircase. As they walked, Harry poked his nose into a series of very nice sleeping quarters, each of which had its own large bed, bay window, and private bathroom he saw. The house-elves smiled at him, but otherwise ignored his questions as they did the bedrooms they passed. At the end of the corridor, they climbed another set of steps that led to an octagonal room with a magnificent view in almost all directions. In the center of the room was a circular cast-iron staircase which Maurice explained rose up to an observation tower. Looking out the windows at an already magnificent view, Harry had to wonder why they would need one.

The elves made a sharp right turn then and passed into a tunnel with exceptionally low ceilings, at least for him. Harry wished now that he had splurged on the ’97 version. Maybe he could upgrade later. The passageway was especially long, but Harry was amazed to see it was actually lined with very nice pieces of wall art. Finally, the four emerged into a large, grassy meadow that was remarkably warm and devoid of the snow he had seen before. More magic he decided. To one side was a very large, two-storied barn painted ugly blues and greens.

“Your storage house sir,” Clanky…or was it Klinky…one of them told him.

Harry nodded and then walked on entering through an enormous set of double doors at one end. Once inside he noted that this ceiling was as high as the previous one had been low. The rear two-thirds of the ground floor complex were filled with tall shelving, while the area immediately before them contained four long tables. The closest one held all of the equipment and supplies he had recently purchased, as well as those things he had left in his bedroom at the Dursleys’. He approached the assembled goods and began to do an inventory from memory.

“Two weeks of food, a case of butterbeer, and…” Harry paused here, and his attention went to the far end of the table. “Oh great! I should have washed all these clothes at Mrs. Figg’s before I started packing. Whew…I didn’t realize that it had been so long! Uhm, pardon my asking, but…”

“Yes sir?” they asked in unison.

“Where do you do laundry?”

“Laundry? That is…laundry here sir?” the middle elf managed to stammer. The others seemed to be just as embarrassed. Harry could just smile at it. He had obtained a trunk that contained a world the size of some countries and a small castle to boot. All he was expecting was an oversize suitcase. The fact that its biggest fault was the lack of a washing machine was…almost hilarious.

“Don’t worry fellows. We’ll work something out between us. Now, about the other magical features I requested?”

The center house-elf seemed to know what he meant. Stepping forward, he looked straight up, waved his hand, and mumbled something Harry couldn’t hear. At the sound of a whoosh, the ceiling overhead revealed a large swirling hole through which flew Hedwig a moment later. Just as quickly, the hole sealed itself again.

“Harry Potter sir, the trunk has been prepared that, upon your command, the portal will open to admit your owl to retrieve whatsoever you desire. Also, when the proper words are spoken over any empty cauldron, the master or his friends may reach inside to acquire items themselves or completely enter this world,” Maurice (Harry decided) explained.

“What was that? You mean that if I leave the trunk in one place, I can travel from an empty cauldron somewhere else to its location?”

“Yes master,” one of the other two said. Harry would have to rid the house-elves of those identical white jackets until he learned to distinguish one from another. “Master may also travel between cauldrons through trunk.”

That especially got Harry’s attention. He had never heard of its like, and he began to wonder why he hadn’t. Still, the system sounded easier than the Floo, and far surpassed Apparation. As it could be utilized in broad daylight, it even took the place of his beloved Firebolt (now alone on a broom rack next to the building’s large staircase).

“I…have to admit that all of this has been as surprising as it has been wonderful. Now however, I need you to show me the way back out of this trunk.” Harry almost saw disappointment in their eyes at his leaving. “It’s quite all right. I’ll be back, and eventually it will be with my three friends. Then we’re all going off somewhere together to…well I’m afraid I can’t explain what we’ll all be doing, but it is important.”

“What are your orders master?” they said, again together.

“First stop calling me master.” Harry drew his wand then and transformed their uniforms into smart-looking individual clothing before they could protest; all three were now free. “I’m hiring all of you back…that is if you don’t mind. Now I’m going to give this oversized box a test run.”


*****



Two weeks passed, and there still had been no sign of Harry anywhere. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had searched every place that any of them could remember Harry mentioning over time. A quick stop at Godric’s Hollow had placed them in the middle of an ambush from which they barely escaped, and then only with a series of mysterious and powerful spells cast at the Death Eaters from behind. Various visits to sites throughout the British Isles always left the three feeling they were close, but not quite near enough to find him.

Four days after leaving the Burrow, and after ensuring that only Weasleys were there, the three had returned hungry, cold, and exhausted, but determined to go on looking. Molly and Arthur alternated between their angry tirades, but, in the end, submitted to the continued search. They knew how hard it would be to restrict the teenagers’ movements, and they conceded that a warm bed and hot meal could only help. Neither parent liked either seeing them leave each morning or admitting that they were actually proud of them.

No one was more determined to find Harry than Ginny was. Ron and Hermione began to worry about the girl as they watched her lose weight and develop dark circles around her eyes from stress, malnutrition, and lack of sleep. Ironically, she was beginning to look just the way that Harry had the last time they had seen him. The older two had actually begun to discuss suspending their search for Ginny’s sake, at least for a while.

It was just days before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and I had come to England myself for my final school year. Arriving at the Burrow, I was struck by the contrast between the festive mood, and the intense worry everyone displayed for Harry’s welfare. By this time, Alastor Moody and various other members of the Order of the Phoenix had returned to help ensure the security of the wedding. He didn’t know what to make of me at first, or how to deal with the rebellious Ron, Hermione, and especially Ginny. I inadvertently walked in on an especially hot exchange between Moody and her one evening, which left Ginny in tears and running out of the room. Ron and Hermione had agreed to run errands in the village, I didn’t know where her mother went, and, being the sentimental softy I was, I decided to go talk to her.

At Ginny’s bedroom door, I suddenly heard a wild scream, which caused me to draw my wand and burst inside. Before I could react, or even stop myself completely, I found another wand pressed against my forehead. Maybe I should have knocked first.

“Spenser, you should have knocked first.”

“Harry? Ginny what is going on? Harry you’re supposed to be on at the top of the Wizards’ missing person’s list. I take it that you’re not dead…are you?”

“No Spense, but the missing person classification may be accurate. It is absolutely intentional as well. I’ve…I’ve come to get Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. We’re going after…”

“You’re taking your war to the bad guys, aren’t you? I don’t suppose you could take along a war correspondent?”

“I’m sorry, but that just won’t work,” he said, bursting my bubble. “Even if you didn’t get in our way, the rest of us are privy to a very powerful secret that I can’t share. I…I think I can tell you some of it though. Our same agreement must remain in force between us if I do.” I studied his face for a second and decided that something had changed in him.

“You got it. No one sees anything I write until you allow me to release it,” I told him, and I meant every word. Such promises are what has kept me in business all these years. Harry proceeded to tell the two of us about the magical trunk, what he discovered inside, and his opinion that it would be an unbeatable resource against the Death Eaters.

Somewhere along the storyline, Ron and Hermione stepped in and both almost…no they actually did tackle and hug Harry. It was agreed among us that maybe we should move somewhere quieter in order to assure better privacy. Charlie’s old room was mentioned, but instead we settled on the Burrow’s attic. Harry gave the newcomers a quick recap which elicited both amazement and doubt at his words. Everyone agreed about the trunk’s utility, but something still bothered our group as we listened.

“Harry, you really don’t want to return to Hogwarts?” Hermione finally asked for all of us. I had just transferred there as an exchange student, and I was already losing the only friends I had at the school.

“Hermione, we don’t need anything from Hogwarts…or from anyone. This is the ultimate tool. You wouldn’t believe the features that come with this magical trunk.”

“Having your own private world is a bit hard to top mate,” Ron told him. There were serious misgivings in his eyes as well now.

“Ron…everyone, do you remember that day at Godric’s Hollow when you were attacked by those three Death Eaters?”

“That was you Harry who saved us?” Ginny asked. “How did you know we were there?”

“I ordered a device similar to your family clock downstairs. I can always locate any of you exactly to the spot. It’s just like one of those Muggle G.P.S. devices. Oh, I’ll explain them later. The point is, I designed it where I can come to help any of you if you are in trouble. If there is an empty cauldron nearby, you can instantly evacuate as well. The magic is so obscure, I doubt anyone would know how to put up preventive wards. I also had a Dark magic detector installed.”

“Why would you need that Harry?” I still knew nothing about Horcruxes yet, and I was as puzzled about the trunk add-on as I was about their reaction to my question.

“That’s one of those things that we can’t tell you about Spenser,” Ginny explained for them. “It’s just that…”

“I found a cursed bedpan in Buckingham Palace,” Harry blurted out. Ginny actually had a hurt look when he interrupted her. Then he started into a long explanation about how he had mailed the trunk to the Queen, emerged from it in the inspection storeroom at the palace, and carried it up to her apartment where he left the trunk in a corner for three days. Its small size and somewhat decorative appearance allowed the box to go unnoticed during that time.” I wasn’t sure if the story was too far-fetched or not.

His next test was to ship it on an international flight to Washington, D.C. and back. One of the protective mechanisms on the trunk was resistance to Muggle scanning devices such as x-rays. He agreed to explain those to Ron and Ginny later as well. Even when the box was opened in front of them, all the Muggles saw was a set of items that matched a false contents label attached to it–- circus clown make-up. We all agreed that few people would be interested in closely inspecting that container.

“Where is it now Harry?” Ron asked. His smile had faded again, and I imagined that I knew what he was thinking.

“Actually…in Ginny’s room, and you never knew.” He was plainly confused that we weren’t reacting the way he wanted after his prank. “It’s just that she was storing all that luggage there for the first wedding guests and…” Now he knew there was something wrong. All of our faces were tense, concerned, maybe a bit embarrassed as well. “I don’t understand. This trunk is a great asset! You’re acting as if it’s almost dangerous!”

“Are you sure that it isn’t Harry? You seem to be putting all your faith in the thing,” Ron quietly pointed out.

“Harry it’s just that…you’ve been describing this astonishing trunk that you purchased as if it were the Death Star.” Hermione knew that a mutual friend had already introduced Star Wars to the Weasleys, and she didn’t pause with her explanation. “Maybe it really is a wonderful device Harry, but the way you are explaining it, I have to wonder if you even need us.”

“What? Of course, I do! This trunk is for all of us.” He didn’t sound convincing. “This frees us from the Order, and from Hogwarts, and from…”

“Harry, we’re free of them now. Their having to allow us to search for you the way we did shows that,” Ginny told him. I could see the same hesitation there though, and, since it was Harry, it must have been intensely disturbing for her.

“No…no we’re not! You’ve seen what they’ve done to me over the years. They want to use me…control me. They’re…They’re…”

“They’re a strong potential resource themselves Harry, if we let them be…if we ensure they know they can’t dictate our life actions anymore,” Hermione said. She saw what we did. Harry wasn’t listening. His face was contorted with frustration at our seeming betrayal. Perhaps there was a glint of hurt as well when he looked over at Ginny. Somehow, in just minutes, we had lost him.

“Klinky!” he suddenly shouted. I hadn’t met Dobby yet, but the others seemed sincerely amazed that the house-elf who appeared wasn’t him. “Move the trunk to the next location I indicated.”

“Harry?” Ron approached him and placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“No Ron. I’m sorry.” Harry gave Ginny one last sad look, pulled away, and walked out of our lives forever.


*****



A year passed, and then another, and still one more after that. The war was going badly, and both the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry were taking significant losses. Civilian Magics and Muggles alike were found dead in their homes, places of business, churches, schools, and even in the halls of Parliament. The situation had become so dire that there was even talk of open cooperation with Muggle forces. Exposure of the Wizarding world would result in chaos not experienced since medieval times, but matters had advanced that far.

The Harry that we had known before no longer existed. He carried the scars of countless encounters with Voldemort’s forces, both outside his body and inside his very being. He had become cynical, paranoid, and obsessed with finding the Horcruxes. Where his methods might once have included research and legwork, now they varied very little from the Dark Lord’s unpleasant means of extracting information from his enemies.

The day he destroyed the Hufflepuff Cup was also the morning they buried Ron and Bill Weasley at the Burrow. Harry knew about the funeral, but he didn’t even consider attending. Ron would want him to carry out his mission. He momentarily thought about Ginny, but instantly pushed her from his mind. He couldn’t afford such weakness he decided.

Harry had made great use of his magical trunk, and he relied heavily on it in ways that were inconceivable to him once. He would ship it to a museum or secured installation, emerge from it to search for the Horcrux and then withdraw quickly with the house-elves’ assistance.

Twice when the trunk had been seized, he had utilized Hedwig to fetch it back for him, and Harry had lost count of how many times he had traveled across Europe utilizing empty cauldrons. He also couldn’t remember exactly the number of occasions he had awoken in his Trunkworld rooms with one of the elves trying to act as a Healer. Harry now walked with a limp, had a persistent cough, and was mostly deaf. It didn’t matter. He was dead inside, and just waiting for the end of the day when his body would join him there.

That night Harry, for some reason, decided to fly his broom to a large house in Leicestershire. He retrieved the Firebolt and, as he walked through his castle, he paused several times to study some corner or fixture, reliving a quiet memory about the place. He had never brought anyone else there, and his only companions had been Hedwig and the house-elves, but still it was the closest thing to home that remained in his life.

Harry exited the trunk into the storage locker he had rented in Portsmouth. Stepping out into the night air, he didn’t bother looking about for prying eyes; he didn’t care if someone spotted him. He immediately took to the air and, despite his desire for speed, sent the broom through a series of quick maneuvers that he hadn’t attempted in years. Twenty-five minutes brought him to the ancient mansion. He knew he was expected. He didn’t doubt that they had seen his arrival. No one would raise a finger against him yet.

Gently leaning the broom against a large elm tree in the yard, Harry followed the path up to the house and then stepped through its front door. The room was actually quite large for an entry area and was dimly lit with a number of floating candles, which reminded him of how the Great Hall had been. Only one figure faced Harry–-Voldemort himself. It was almost anticlimactic. It was almost as if it were occurring in slow motion.

The Dark Lord didn’t say a word, and he didn’t need to. He simply raised his wand, pointed it at Harry’s face, and waited. Attempting to lift his own wand, Harry discovered that he was unexpectedly paralyzed. He couldn’t move his arms or anything for that matter. Panic hit him first, but then a strange calm. It was over, and he…everyone had lost.

The last words Harry heard were the very same ones that his parents had years before.


*****



Harry woke up screaming. He thrashed about, knocking the various catalogs off himself, and trying to decide where he really was. A moment later the panic grew when a set of hands clamped down on his arms trying to calm him. He almost lashed out in anger but stopped himself at the last moment realizing that he was still in his bedroom at the Dursleys’ and it was Ginny trying to help him.

“Harry, Harry it’s all right! It’s me. It was just a dream!”

“A…a what? Ginny, it was real! What…what are you doing here?”

“I Apparated here instead of going home. I’m not leaving until I know you’re going to be fine until your birthday.”

“What? It’s the same day? How did you get in here and then hide from…? You used my invisibility cloak, didn’t you? What time is it?”

“It’s almost half past three. You were asleep fifteen minutes after you came through the door. I’ve been watching over you for hours. That was some dream…or nightmare.”

Harry nodded and then moved his eyes over to his large school trunk. He was surprised to see the lock was popped open. He knew Dudley would not be able to do that, and throwing a questioning look in Ginny’s direction, she gestured that she knew nothing about it either.

“No Harry. You told me before that you hid the cloak there under those floorboards when you were here.”

Harry detached himself from Ginny, stood and approached the trunk. Opening the lid, his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him. It was the exact same trunk/chest from his dream. Picking it up and then placing it on his small desk, he then hesitated. He felt Ginny come up to him then, and as she placed her arms around him from behind, his courage returned and doubled. He slowly, carefully opened its cover not knowing exactly what to expect. This time instead of a trip to a personal castle, he was simply given a large letter.

All the outside of the envelope there revealed was his name, and he tore it open with as much care as he had given the small trunk. A quick glance confirmed his initial suspicions. He decided to read aloud to share it with Ginny. She immediately saw the letter’s importance.

“My Dear Harry, I am quite sure that I am dead if you are reading this. I arranged to have this chest quietly delivered to you in the event of my passing. I hope by now that it has served its purpose.

“The miniature trunk you have been given is called a Dream Box. That is, it held a spell created and placed there by the user, in this case me, to induce a specific dream for a second party, in this case you. I am actually quite proud of my work here, and I hope that it conveyed a very valuable lesson to you. Let me just say here, risking repeating what I may have already told you, that I am equally proud of you as well.

“Now, as for the matter of Miss Weasley–-I do not even need to ask if you have told her about the Dark artifacts. I have observed the two of you together after I extracted the promise from you, and I only regret was that I didn’t include her among those with whom you could share the information. I do so now.

“Please always remember the love that you share with her, as well as with your friends, will be your own ultimate tool in the days ahead. Such a magical trunk and the world it would contain do not really exist as far as I know. The most magical place that you will encounter is wherever you happen to be at the moment with Miss Weasley. I wish you both the best of fortunes and futures.

“Albus Dumbledore”

A second later the letter flashed into smoke, removing the written reference to the Horcruxes.

“Harry…I’m not sure I understand.”

“I do Ginny. He taught me how to win the war today. It will be with you, Ron, and Hermione, your family, the school, even the Order if they behave themselves. I happen to love you, young lady or have I mentioned that before?”

“A time or two Mr. Potter,” she giggled and then gave him a quick kiss.

“Then I’m invincible…no, we are invincible. Now it’s time for me to take you home.”

“Harry?”

“No, I’ll be perfectly okay here now. Trust me.” He looked down at her, saw the confidence in her eyes, and felt all the stronger for it.

Taking her hand then, he unlocked the door and waited as Ginny made a quick trip to the bathroom (she had been cooped up in there with him for quite some time). Descending the stairs, they paused to listen to Dudley’s loud snoring from the living room and yet another episode with The Doctor. Now Harry was wondering if Professor Dumbledore himself had ever watched the program.

At the street, Harry once again stopped, and then shifting directions, walked over to a large shrubbery growth at the edge of the neighbors’ yard. “You can come out now,” he announced. Ginny knew there would probably still be a guard, but amazed that Harry could spot him so easily. Both were equally stunned when it was Alastor Moody who stepped out.

“I’m not surprised for some reason Potter.”

“Well I am that it was actually you on duty. I was wondering if you could do a favor for me when you have the chance. I would appreciate it if you would tell Professor McGonagall, in person, that Ron, Hermione, and I will, in fact, be returning to Hogwarts this fall, but only if certain conditions are met. I will only discuss these in person with her.” This naturally meant that the four of them could leave school grounds whenever they needed to search for the Horcruxes.

“I’ll be seein’ her in just a bit. We been invited to the Burrow for supper.”

“That will be convenient. Secondly, after my birthday there will be no more guards hounding me. I will treat any I encounter as if they are attacking me, regardless of the circumstances.” Moody didn’t like this Harry could tell, but, after several seconds, the ex-Auror finally nodded. He would just find some way around this demand. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m about to perform another illegal Apparation and escort Ginny home.” Harry walked past him then, behind the same set of bushes and, with a loud crack, they were gone.

Moody allowed a full minute to elapse before he permitted himself a smile, and then walked back there himself. It was a number of years before he allowed me to complete this story, let alone write it in its entirety. I’m still not sure that I understand exactly what happened next. Once out of sight, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody let out a shrill whistle, and three house-elves appeared before him.

“Klinky, Clanky, Maurice…go fetch my small trunk from Harry’s room and take it to that safe-house in Bristol. After supper this evenin’, I want to re-inventory my storage house. We’ll need to change the locks and defense mechanisms back as well now before someone gets into trouble with the thing.”

Mischief managed!
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