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Chapter 6: Five

Harry tumbled down the stairs and dashed past the kitchen, pulling on his coat. "Hi Siri hi Moony hi Ron hi Mione I'm-going-to-Diagon-see-you-later-byeee --"

The four of them looked up from their breakfast almost in unison. By the time Ron stood up from his chair, Harry had already left, closing the front door behind him with a 'click'.

Hermione spoke first in the ensuing silence. "Should we... go after him?"

Ron paused in putting another forkful of eggs into his mouth to say, "Probably, but can we just pretend we already did?"

Sirius raised his glass of pumpkin juice. "I'll drink to that!" He toasted with Remus and Ron and, reluctantly, Hermione. "How much trouble can he possibly get into without us to help, anyway?"

It was Harry's third visit to the anonymous post office in Knockturn Alley, hidden behind a hole in the wall of another building. He leaned up against the wall, murmuring the box number and several digits that formed a password, and an archway materialized beside him for just long enough to slip through.

(How, one might wonder, was Harry Potter getting into Magical London without being noticed?)

(A hat.)

Inside, the place was as empty as always -- Harry supposed it might be an illusion of some kind. Along one wall were hundreds of post boxes, numbered in no particular order; they didn't move, fortunately, so after Harry had spent more than an hour looking for his, the first time, it was easy to find again. He held his wand to the little metal door, murmuring the box password under his breath, and it opened with a soft click. Inside the magically-expanded interior lay a neatly rolled scroll of parchment tied with black string, and beside it, a small box that fairly gleamed with magic. The scroll found its place in the mokeskin pouch around his neck, for now; the box, though, Harry opened right away, knowing to be the obscuring hood Voldemort had mentioned in their messages.

The black fabric of the hood poured out into his hands like silk or satin, cool to the touch and tingling with magical potential. It reminded Harry greatly of the first time he'd held the Invisibility Cloak -- perhaps disguising enchantments on cloth were all like that? He used a mirror hanging nearby to tug the hood on over his head, finding with satisfaction that once it was on, it didn't show any signs of coming off, no matter how rapidly he shook his head around to test it. Just as it did with Voldemort, the hood shrouded Harry's face in complete darkness, obscuring his features so completely there could easily not be any; his eyes didn't glow, but that was probably a Dark Lord thing. For his part, Harry could see perfectly fine, as though the hood weren't there at all -- and more interestingly, while he could feel the hood on his head, when he reached to touch the fabric, his hand went through it entirely.

"Wicked," he breathed, threading his fingers through his hair. "I wonder how it does that."

Taking it off was no hardship; he made to replace the hood in the box, and found a slip of parchment inside: a note, in Voldemort's handwriting.

Good morning, Assistant, it read.

This is one of a set of identical obscuring hoods in my possession. It can be replaced as needed; send it back immediately if it seems not to be working.

The hood will only deactivate if pulled off by the same person who activated it. This means that you may choose to take it off at any time, but no magical or physical force may do so for you. This includes the Imperius Curse.

I have not tested yet, but I suspect Fiendfyre will still burn away the hood.

Regards - Y.K.W.