| Part One |
Part Two |
Part Three |
Part Four |
| Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |
Part Eight |
| Part Nine |
Part Ten |
Part Eleven |
Part Twelve |
| Part Thirteen |
Part Fourteen |
Part Fifteen |
Part Sixteen |
Minerva McGonagall was staring intently at the map before her. Across the room, in a comfortable looking chair in front of the fireplace, Albus Dumbledore sat watching her. Professor McGonagall tapped her finger against the paper of the map several times, as if encouraging a small insect to move.
"Albus, does the Chang family reside in Gravesend?" she asked.
"No, Minerva, I believe they live near Cambridge."
"The Grangers are from Oxford; so, who could it be?" she said quietly, almost to herself. "The Longbottoms, perhaps?"
"Liverpool. Excuse me, my dear, but what are we discussing?" Albus said rising from his chair and approaching the map.
"Harry Potter did not return to his relatives in Little Whinging. Instead, he has stopped somewhere in Gravesend, west of London. At first, I assumed he was just changing trains, or something of the like, but then he remained there. I thought he might have stopped to get something to eat. However, he has now been at one location for more than an hour and I am beginning to become concerned."
Dumbledore leaned over the map and thought for a moment. "Oh dear," he said finally and quickly returned to the fireplace. Taking a small pot of powder from the mantel, he threw a pinch into the small fire and stuck his head into the green flames now roaring there.
"Nymphadora Tonks!" Professor McGonagall heard him call out. "Miss Tonks, I'm sorry to disturb you but could you please come to the staff room at Hogwarts immediately," he continued. "There might be something of an emergency regarding young Mr. Potter."
Next, he took another bit of Floo Powder and placed a second call, this time to Remus Lupin. By the time he drew away from the fire, the usually stoic Head of Gryffindor House was working herself into quite a dither.
"Now calm down, Minerva," Dumbledore said soothingly. "There's no reason to worry yet. We just need to see what is delaying Mr. Potter."
"Oh, don't give me that!" she snapped back. "You know perfectly well that something has gone amiss! He could have been captured by Death Eaters, or even Voldemort himself! I knew it was a mistake to give him such free reign. We should have been watching him more closely."
"Now, now, we know nothing of the sort. There have been no magical alerts around him since Miss Chang Apparated back to her home, so there is no need to worry. Perhaps Harry is just off on some errand that we are unaware of? It is likely nothing."
"Then why are you calling in Tonks? And Remus?"
Dumbledore remained quiet for a moment then said calmly, "Better to be safe than sorry."
"A bit late for that NOW, don't you think?" she said and stomped off to begin pacing back and forth in front of the fire.
* * * * *
Harry landed on his hands and knees. The surface beneath him felt soft and spongy, like the soft peat of a moor. He stood and looked around him. Everywhere he turned there was fog. It didn't creep over the ground so much as it simply hung in the air, as if he were suspended inside some sort of cloud. He tried to see past the fog, to make out any details that could help him find his way back to the rope.
The Rope!
His hands were empty; he hadn't had time to grasp the rope before he had been sucked through the arch. He dropped down to his knees again and began to cast about for it. He had to find it. It was his only link back to his world and without it he could be trapped here forever. Just like...
Sirius.
Harry grew frantic in his search. He was crawling about, stretching his hands before him and sweeping the ground, trying to find the rope. It was no wonder, Sirius didn't find it. Harry knew it was there and still he couldn't find it.
"Blast!" Harry shouted into the mist. "Why didn't I grab hold of the bloody rope before I got near the arch?" Then Harry realized why. He didn't even know if he could have. In this ethereal state, could he even have grasped the rope? And, if he could, would he have been able to hold onto it when he was pulled through the arch? He hadn't bothered to stop and check before approaching the arch.
"IDIOT!" he railed. "How could I have been so stupid?" Harry looked around, trying to find some way of salvaging the situation. He could see nothing; the mists that surrounded him gave no details of lay beyond, or how to find his way back. He felt that he hadn't traveled far from the archway but there was really no way to tell for certain. He could be anywhere, or more appropriately, he realized, he could be nowhere.
'Maybe Hermione was right,' he thought to himself, 'maybe I should have waited? Maybe I should have let somebody else do this. Could someone else have done better?' Harry snorted in disgust. 'Could anyone else have done worse?'
Harry shook his head in frustration. These thoughts wouldn't help him in any way. What he needed was to find the rope again. With the rope he would have some reference point to find his way around. With the rope he would have his way out. So Harry went back on his hands and knees. He needed to find that rope. Slowly, in what he hoped was a circular pattern, Harry began to search. He would reach out to the limits of his arms and feel for the rope. Then he would crawl forward a step and feel again. Always he tried to curve, just a bit, to his right so that he was following a circle that spread out from where he had landed. He was concentrating so hard on his fingers, hoping that they would feel the stiff braid of the rope, that he didn't hear the soft click-clacking sound that was coming from somewhere in the mist.
* * * * *
Cho huddled inside Harry's old flannel shirt and tried to keep the goosebumps from completely taking over. She rubbed her arms with her hands and tried to keep warm. She glanced at her watch.
"Twenty minutes," she said to no one. "Just twenty-five more and I go for help. Merlin, it's cold down here!"
She looked over at Harry, at Harry's body, lying there on the hard stone floor and shivered as a wave of fear ran up her spine. Shaking her head, she turned and looked at the archway, straining to hear the sound of whispering. She heard nothing. She hadn't seen the veil move when Harry passed through it but she had felt a wave of cold, as if a Dementor had entered the room. It felt just like when that one had entered her compartment on the Hogwarts Express, back in her fourth year. She wished she had thought to bring some chocolate. It worked with the Dementors and so it might help now. Better yet, hot chocolate, she thought longingly. She glanced at her watch again. Twenty minutes to go. She got up and began to walk around the room, examining the arch from every angle but always staying far away from it. She made a complete circuit of the room and saw that she still had 18 minutes to go.
She sat back on her bench and began to think. She reasoned that if she was going to have to go through that spinning room and up the corridor, that was bound to take some time. And the lifts were atrociously slow; it would take forever to get back to the atrium. And then she would have to be careful that she wasn't seen by anyone. That would slow her down, too. In fact, she reckoned, if she left now she would barely be able to make it in time. She stood and turned to head for the door.
She looked back over her shoulder, at Harry lying there. What if he came back and she was gone? What if he needed her and she wasn't here? She didn't want to let him down. But what if he needed her now? What if he was in trouble and needed help? Every minute she wasted standing here made the problem that much worse. What should she do? How could she decide which way to go? She didn't know what she should do but she knew one thing, she couldn't stand to be alone in this ice-cold room for one more second. She turned towards the door and reached for the handle, but before she could, the door burst open. In the darkness that lay outside the door she saw the outline of a tall wizard in dark robes. Behind him stood several more.
Cho screamed.
* * * * *
Harry struggled to contain the panic that threatened to overtake his sanity. The clammy air seemed to cling to his skin and congeal in his lungs as he tried to breathe. His search was getting nowhere. He couldn't find the rope. He couldn't find the archway. He couldn't hear Sirius. He couldn't hear the whispers. All he could hear was that blasted clacking noise!
Clacking noise!
Harry stood with a jerk and immediately began to look for the source of the noise. Through the depths of the fog he could see nothing, but the sound was clear. He tried to pinpoint its location, but couldn't. He had a general idea that it came from off to his right, but he couldn't be sure. Should he abandon his search for the rope in order to find out what was making that noise? Did he want to find out? The rope was his only way out, his only hope for escape, but it was also Sirius' only hope. Sirius was the reason he had come through the arch. Could he leave without knowing what had happened to him? Could he abandon Sirius? Sirius wouldn't have abandoned him. Screwing his Gryffindor courage to the sticking point, Harry began to move off to follow the sound, scuffing his feet along the way. In case he should, literally, stumble over the rope.
He quickly lost all sense of direction. There was no left, nor right. All he could do was to keep the sound of that click-clacking ahead of him and hope that it wasn't moving also. Glancing up, Harry suddenly noticed a change. Hanging from above were strings. Long, thin threads hung down from he-couldn't-see-where. Some hung low, almost reaching the ground and some ended high above his head. Harry reached out and touched one of the threads. It was silky smooth and its touch sent shivers up his spine. It was as if someone was walking on his grave. The noise grew louder and Harry was able to make out a thinning of the mist ahead of him. And movement.
Harry drew closer. Suddenly, from behind him came a new sound. It was the sound of... a child giggling. No, not that. Not the carefree sound of a child. It was more sinister than that. It was the sound he imagined a young Draco making as he amused himself by pulling the wings off butterflies. Harry looked around, careful not to move his feet, lest he become disorientated and lose all sense of where he was. A shadow darted out from the mists behind him. It was a small figure, no larger than a house-elf. He pivoted his head in an attempt to follow it. If it was Kreacher then Harry was prepared to throttle the thing with his bare hands. The figure jumped towards the hanging threads and with one hand it grabbed one and pulled it down. Shrieking with glee, the figure disappeared into the mists once again.
"Now, now Lachesis, we mustn't go scaring our guest. Please try to control yourself."
Harry spun towards the voice and saw two women, slowly appearing from the mists like a picture slowly coming into focus. One sat at a low stool and appeared to be working at a spinning wheel, her lap filled with bobbins of thread. As her foot moved on the pedal to spin the wheel and each time the pedal was pressed fully down it made the clacking sound that he had been following. The same thread, Harry realized, that hung from the ceiling. The second stood nearby, one hand was filled with strands of thread while the other held an ancient pair of shears. The shears were rusted, but Harry could tell from the glint of light off the edges that the blades were as sharp as death.
Slowly, Harry began to approach the pair, always listening for the sound of the child. The last thing he needed now was to be surprised by someone, or something.
"Good day to you, young mortal," said the woman with the shears. "How may we serve you?"
Harry wasn't sure what to say but he knew that silence would gain him nothing. "I am looking for a friend," he said cautiously.
"And how do you know your friend is here?"
It seemed a reasonable question, and this worried Harry. His response showed his caution. "I saw him fall through the archway. I have come to bring him home."
The woman's voice dropped to a timbre as cold as ice. "If he came through the archway then he is home."
"No," said Harry strongly. "He was alive when he fell through, I saw that. He doesn't belong here. If you will only point me in the right direction, I will collect him and not trouble you further."
"Oh, but you have already caused us much trouble, Harry James Potter. Much."
Harry's surprise that they knew his name was interrupted by the sound of giggling. The child ran up from behind Harry. As she passed, she leapt and grabbed a handful of threads, snapping them all. Clutching these in her fist, the child, which looked to be about 5 or 6 years old, turned to face Harry. Instead of the sweet and innocent face of a child, Harry saw the wizened face of an old crone leering back at him. Thin and straggly gray hair fell about her face and a long hooked nose was perched above a toothless set of gums. The creature's face twisted into what Harry could only hope was a grin. She approached Harry, who stood frozen in place. She reached out her hand, which still clutched the threads she had so recently ripped down, and laid the burden across Harry's palm.
Harry tried to recoil away but couldn't. He was instantly caught up in a vision. There was a car. It was full of children. Harry could see that there were four of them crowded into the back. A mother and father sat in the front seats. They appeared to be confused. The wife unfolded a map and tried to point to something. The father leaned over to see. Harry knew something was going to happen and he struggled in an attempt to release the threads before it did. The little crone suddenly grasped his hand with both of her own and firmly sealed it shut. Lost to the vision, Harry's eyes grew wide as the car suddenly veered across the road. The father, panicking, tried to regain control but only managed to lose it completely. The car began a long skid, switching bonnet for boot several times. Without warning a petrol lorry came barreling into the scene. It smashed into the still sliding car and burst into a ball of liquid, orange flame, engulfing both vehicles.
The crone released Harry's hand and he finally managed to drop the threads. He staggered back from the shock of the vision. The crone began to cackle gleefully at his stricken expression. Harry felt ill and looked about for a place to retch. As he searched he noticed another figure, nearly hidden in the pearly fog. The figure was tall and gaunt. Harry could make out that its hair was long and matted. The tattered robes it wore blended nearly perfectly with the grey fog. It was Sirius, Sirius as Harry had first met him in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius fresh from the horrors of Azkaban. On instinct, he took a step towards him.
"Go no further, mortal," the woman with the shears warned. "This is none of your affair. He is ours now."
"Sirius?" Harry called to the shadowed figure.
"If that was his name in your world, it matters no longer. He is ours now."
"No!" Harry called. "If he wasn't dead when he fell through then he should go back. I'm here to take him back. I have to."
"His last tie to the realm of mortals has been severed. He belongs to us now. Soon he will be gone completely."
Harry stared at the form of Sirius. He tried to penetrate the fog that surrounded it but couldn't. The outline was vague, as if it were slowly dissolving.
"No," Harry stammered. "He can't go yet!"
"It is too late. He is already gone."
"NO!" Harry shouted. The figures ignored him. "He has duties in our world. He can't leave until they are done."
The woman looked at Harry sadly, as if she were sympathetic to his plight, "Alas, all of his duties have been set aside. He is ours now."
"But he has debts to pay," Harry pleaded.
"All his debts have been paid."
"But..."
"Even a life debt is paid by death."
"But," Harry repeated, searching for something, some argument that would sway these people. "He doesn't owe me his life... He... He... He owes me his soul."
At this the woman who was seated at the spinning wheel turned towards Harry for the first time. She regarded him with a cold eye that looked straight through him.
"What do you mean, he owes you his soul?" she said softly, speaking for the first time.
Harry opened his mouth; he was searching for a way to explain it to them, when the seated woman pointed one of her bobbins at him. In a heartbeat he was again frozen in place. He couldn't move, he couldn't resist at all as she began to probe his mind. Harry thought for a moment of trying to block her probe but instead he invited her in. He drew her into his memories. Back three years ago, when he stood above Sirius and they were surrounded by Dementors. He showed her how they were going to Kiss Sirius and how Harry drove them off.
"He speaks true, Atropos," the woman said at length. "This one does owe a soul debt."
"No! It can not be," replied Atropos.
"It is so. The dog owes his soul to the son of the stag. It is a debt that must be paid, even in our world."
Atropos turned back to Harry, all traces of sympathy gone. Instead there was the cold look of one who has been cheated out of a special treat. The child-crone, Lachesis, came and stood beside her sister. "As you say, dear Clotho, this is a debt that we can not cancel. It must be repaid." She reached up and carefully removed a thread from above her head. Harry looked at it and noticed a knot had been tied in it, as if the thread had been repaired at some time in the past. Atropos carefully looked at the length of this thread and with a flash Harry realized that this thread was his life. She ran her shears along the length of the thread and Harry felt the cold steel of the blade run up his back. Atropos flexed her fingers and the blades began to close. Harry stood transfixed as the shears began to close on his life. In a second they would cut it and he would be no more.
"Do not think that you have won, mortal," she said with cold certainty. "Your time will come when we decide it. Now take your friend and go. If you can. His debt is now paid." She released the shears and with a flick of her hand the thread was once again hung from the ceiling.
Harry hesitated only a moment then plunged off through the fog. The figure of Sirius seemed to retreat slightly. Harry could heart the sound of Sirius' voice, whispering in his ears. "No, Harry, it is too late for me. Go back while you can."
"No!" Harry shouted. "I won't go back without you."
"Yes, you can and you should. I'll be fine. It doesn't matter. Get yourself back."
With a lunge, Harry reached him. His arms encircled Sirius' form in what should have been an embrace, but Sirius struggled to pull away.
"This isn't right, Harry. You have to go back."
"I will go back, and I'm taking you with me." Harry forced his arms around Sirius and began to drag him away. He didn't know where they were going, only that it was away, away from those three and away from those shears.
After a time, when Harry could no longer hear the sounds of the spinning wheel, he stopped to look around. He had no idea where he was, or where he had to go to find the rope, if he could find the rope. The silence he had been seeking began to soak through his skin like doubt. He had lost all sense of time, but surely, by now, his time had run out and Cho would be calling for help. What would they do when they arrived? Would they just leap in after him? Harry shuddered at the thought of more people coming here because of him. Would they just coil up the rope and take his body to St. Mungo's? Would he spend the rest of his life lying in a ward filled with those who had been kissed? It was more than he deserved if he did. No, Harry couldn't begin to think like that. He had to find the rope and he had to get them out of here, both of them. For Harry Potter knew one thing for certain, he would not leave without Sirius.
* * * * *
"Please, Miss Chang," Professor Dumbledore said calmly, "I know my appearance may seem a bit unusual but I sincerely doubt it is sufficient cause to scream."
Cho backed away from the group; indeed she would have tumbled over the edge of one of the wide stone steps if Dumbledore hadn't reached out and stopped her. The headmaster swept into the room, quickly followed by Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody.
"Tell me, Miss Chang," Dumbledore said quietly, "where is Harry?" Cho could only turn and gesture at the figure lying prone on the stone floor below them.
"What is he doing?" Remus said with fear putting an edge on his words.
"He's... he's gone through the archway," Cho managed to say.
Dumbledore flew down the steps and was kneeling at Harry's side in a second. He felt the boy's chest and lifted an eyelid. Rising up as the others joined him, he slowly shook his head.
"I'm afraid we are too late to stop him," he said sadly. Moody growled and Remus aimed a kick at one of the stone benches.
"What do we do now?" Remus asked.
"I'm not sure there's anything we can do."
"Confound that boy for his impatience," Moody growled. He looked as if he would like to be kicking things as well, but with a wooden leg it wouldn't have worked very well. Remus turned and saw the rope.
"Cho, what's this for?" he asked, following the rope from its start, tied around one of the stones, to where it disappeared through the archway.
"It's Harry's way of getting back," she explained. "He had the Weasley twins enchant it like one of their gags so that you can hold on to it and make the whole thing move under your control."
Dumbledore pursed his lips in thought at this. "You mean he intended to use this rope to get back through the arch?"
"Yes," Cho explained. "First, he threw a bit through the arch and then pulled it back. It wasn't damaged so Harry reckoned that if the rope could come back through so could Sirius."
"Yes, but the rope wasn't alive, was it?" Remus snapped at her. Cho recoiled at his words and Remus immediately regretted them.
"What happened next, Miss Chang?" Dumbledore asked gently. "I'm certain that Harry had some sort of a plan."
Cho explained how they had cast the rope through the arch and called out to Sirius, hoping that he would be able to find it and make his own way out.
"But when that didn't work?" Professor Dumbledore prodded.
"Harry reasoned that he would have to go through himself."
"He did WHAT?" Remus shouted.
"He began to meditate and entered into an astral state. He thought that since his physical body remained on this side, it might be easier for him to come back through."
"The fool!" said Alastor.
"Why didn't he just wait?" asked Remus of no one in particular.
Cho wanted to shout that he couldn't wait, but she didn't. It wasn't her place to speak to these men that way. Instead, she just shrugged her shoulders. At this point, the door burst open again and a woman entered the chamber. Cho didn't know her but she had short spiky hair that had been dyed a bright pink. She was also wearing more makeup than Cho would have thought appropriate, and it was smeared, especially her lipstick. Below her robes, Cho also noticed that the woman was wearing dark hose and a pair of hastily tied trainers.
"Ah, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said calmly, "I take it you found them?"
The woman withdrew Harry's old and battered pair of glasses from a pocket in her robe.
"Yeah, a woman found them in her shopping bag when she got home from a day in London. She didn't have the slightest idea whose they were or how they got in her bag." Everyone turned to Cho, who quailed under the scrutiny.
"Harry knew that you were following him through a charm on his glasses and he didn't want you to know he was coming back here. So he ditched them to throw you off the scent."
"And quite an excellent maneuver it was," Dumbledore replied. "It kept us occupied until it was far too late to interfere. I'm afraid there is nothing more to be done here tonight." The old Professor heaved a great sigh. "Miss Tonks, perhaps you should just return to your earlier engagement? We shall remain here and do what needs to be done."
"Too late for that now," the woman, who was evidently named Tonks, said. "I already sent the worthless sod packing. Wasn't worth my time anyway." She had said this last bit with almost regret.
"But what are we going to do about Harry?" Cho asked, bringing the room back to the topic at hand.
"I'm not sure there's anything we can do," Dumbledore answered.
The headmaster sat and grasped the rope with one hand. Idly fingering it, he began to hum a tune, so softly that no one could recognize it. Tonks, Remus and Moody all took seats nearby. Cho began to pace.
* * * * *
Harry continued to slog through the fog, his arms still wrapped tightly around the faintly resisting Sirus. He didn't want to be carried but he didn't seem to have the energy to resist either.
"Sirius, you've got help me find the rope," Harry told him. "It's our only way out."
"What rope?" Sirius asked.
"I tossed a rope through the veil before I came through myself. If we can find it then we can get out of here."
"Harry, you shouldn't have come," Sirius said sadly.
"Stop it, Sirius," Harry replied, none too gently. "I wasn't about to let you stay here if there was any chance of getting you out."
"But I'm not worth it," Sirius glumly continued. "You're the one that needs to live. We all know that. Your parents knew it."
Harry turned on him sharply. "Stuff it, Sirius!" he snapped. "I'm sick and tired of having people die instead of me! I'm tired of others sacrificing themselves so that I can live! My parents did it and look what it got me." Harry tried to shrug Sirius over his shoulder but he didn't have the strength. "10 years with the Dursleys, that's what it got me! Well, no more! Now you can either shut up and help me find that rope, or you can just shut up. BUT I'M TAKING YOU OUT OF HERE!"
Sirius had stopped struggling but he still wasn't helping, and Harry had his hands full trying to make his way through the fog. Every few steps he would stop and begin to feel around with his feet, trying to find the rope. Once he got down on his knees to feel with his hands but then Sirus started to crawl away and Harry had to chase him down. Not willing to chance his escape again, Harry was forced to use only his feet in the search.
After a time, Harry had no idea how long it was, Sirius suddenly went stiff in his arms. Harry tried to almost throw him forward, thinking that this was some new means for Sirius to struggle to escape, but Sirius spoke out.
"Harry, do you hear that?"
Thinking it was the three women with their shears again, Harry started looking about fearfully. Straining his ears, he began to make out the sound of someone humming.
"Oh, Blast! What's it going to be now?" Harry was near exhaustion from fighting with Sirius and he was in no shape to enter into another encounter.
"Hush up, Harry," Sirius snapped. "Don't you recognize that song?"
Harry listened carefully and could barely make out the sound of the humming. He had no hope of recognizing the tune.
"It's 'Moonlight Magic'." Sirius said. "They played it at your parent's wedding. It was their first dance as man and wife." Sirius began to struggle again, but not to get away this time. He was trying to get to the source of the humming.
The two of them struggled through the fog. Only this time Harry was struggling to keep up with Sirius rather than keeping him from falling behind. He felt the fog pulling at his every movement, as if he were slogging through pea soup rather than a cloud. Fatigue was beginning to eat away at his strength and Harry didn't know how much longer he could go on.
"C'mon, Harry," Sirius said sharply. "It's getting closer."
"What do you think it could be?" Harry gasped.
"I don't know," Sirius continued, "but whatever it is, it's bound to be a good thing."
"Maybe it's my folks," Harry said, barely daring to hope.
"No," Sirius said with finality. "I've not encountered a single other soul since I've been down here. If it were them, I would have found them before this."
Harry hung his head. "Then who could it be?"
"Whoever it is, they knew your parents. If they were at their wedding then they're here to help you get out."
"I'm not leaving here without you!"
Sirius turned to face his godson. "Let's first find out if either of us can get out of here before we start arguing about who is and is not going, all right?"
Harry nodded grimly and tried to pick up his pace. The fog seemed to cling to his heels, dragging him down to a crawl. He could barely see Sirius ahead of him through the curls of mist. He tried to call out, to shout for Sirius to slow down, but he didn't have the strength. He collapsed into the fog. The mist covered him completely. He was too tired to go on. He needed to rest. If he could just close his eyes for a few minutes he would be able to go on.
"HARRY, DON'T!" the voice of his godfather broke through the fatigue that encased him. "Harry, you can't fall asleep! We're almost there!"
"Huh?" Harry muttered, not understanding why he had been woken up. He batted a hand at something that was fluttering about his face. He felt hands grasp him under his arms as Sirius struggled to lift him.
"You can't go to sleep. If you do then you'll never wake up. Com' on Harry, move it!"
Harry stumbled to his feet and managed to take a few shaky steps forward. Sirius stood behind him, half supporting and half pushing. Suddenly he saw it. Through the fog he saw a snake-like shape whipping through the air. It was the rope! It was here! Harry stretched out with both hands, trying to catch hold of it, as it bent and twisted before him. With a lunge, he caught it with one hand and the rope wrapped itself around his wrist.
He turned his head to look for Sirius, reaching back with his other hand for him to grab. Sirius stood apart, knee deep in the mist and shook his head slowly and sadly.
"No, Harry," he said. "You go. You have to go on, not me."
"NOOO!" Harry screamed. With a wrench he released the rope which went back to flaying the air in front of them. He stumbled back towards Sirius, who caught him round the ribs.
"Harry, you've got to get out of here," he said.
"Not without you."
Harry grabbed Sirius with one hand and reached out with his other towards the rope. It slithered through the air just out of his reach. If he could just stretch a bit further he would have it. He tried to loosen his grip on Sirius but the instant he did he felt his godfather trying to slip away. Spinning away from the rope, Harry lashed out and grabbed Sirius' upper arm. With the last of his strength, he heaved and spun on one heel. Caught off balance, Sirius fell forward and he and Harry rolled over each other in the fog.
Harry came up sitting on Sirius' chest. The rope was now close enough that it was whipping about his head. He reached up with one hand and snagged the rope like he would a Snitch. In one smooth motion, Harry rolled off Sirius and sent two coils around the older man's waist. Sirius forgot about Harry and began to pull at the rope trying to free himself.
"Harry," he called, "get this off of me."
"No, I'm not letting you go!"
Sirius continued to fight the rope as Harry began to make his way, hand over tired hand, upwards. It seemed to climb a slope that was invisible in the fog. It was so steep that it was almost like climbing a mountain and Harry had to use his arms as much as his legs to scale it. Every time Harry made some progress he would send another coil of the rope around Sirius. In time, not only was he bound around the waist but his arms and legs were trapped as well. Harry looked over his shoulder with a grim smile.
"Still think you can get away from me, Sirius?"
"Harry, it would be much easier going if you would just let me go. You're not dead. You can return. It's too late for me."
"No, it can't be. I came here to get you out and that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"Harry, you heard what the fates said. This is where I belong. Just leave me here and get on with your life."
"I said NO! Are you deaf as well as dim? I'm tired of leaving people behind and getting on with my life. I'm not doing it again. I heard those old crones; they said I could take you if I could get you. Well, I'm getting you out!"
Harry tried to look ahead but couldn't. The rope seemed to disappear just ahead of him. Harry didn't know if it just disappeared into some thicker fog or if it was the archway. He gathered his strength to lunge forward when suddenly the rope gave a huge jerk and pulled him off of his feet.
* * * * *
Remus had given up counting the minutes as he sat there and watched his former headmaster. He shook his head at the thought that, even after all these years, he still thought of Dumbledore that way. He wasn't 'Albus', although he had asked Remus to call him that on several occasions, he was the headmaster and was referred to as such by almost everyone in the Order. The only exception was Moody, who was old enough not to have gone to school under him. These thoughts were tossed aside as Remus saw Albus Dumbledore sit up and grasp the rope with both hands.
"Do you feel anything, Professor?" he asked, trying to control the feelings of hope that had suddenly sprung up in his heart.
Dumbledore replied calmly, "I thought I felt something a short while ago, but it stopped. Now it is back and quite strong. There is definitely something coming up the rope towards us."
Tonks leapt off her bench and almost trampled Cho, who was trying to do the same.
"Should we try to pull them through, d'ya think?"
"I don' know," said Moody, joining the group. "We can't know that it's Potter. It could be anything. I say we should be prepared to fight."
"But if it is Harry, then he must be getting tired. We need to help him get through," Cho said desperately.
"I know you want it to be Harry, Miss Chang," said Remus, "but we have to be prepared for any likelihood. Are they still advancing up the rope, Professor?"
"Yes, who or whatever is there seems to be making steady progress. I think we won't have long to wait before we know exactly what it is."
"What do we do?" Tonks asked. "Help or defend?"
Dumbledore seemed to consider the choices for a moment. "I think it would be wise to do both. Alastor and Miss Tonks, please stand on either side of the archway and prepare yourselves in case our visitor is unfriendly. Remus, if you would be so kind as to assist me, we shall try to bring our guest through." Remus moved in front of the old Professor and grasped the rope with both hands.
"On three then?" he asked.
"But what about me? Can I help too?" Cho asked quietly.
Remus was about to tell her to just stay out of the way when the headmaster spoke, "Yes, Miss Chang, if you would please stand behind me. As Remus and I pull the rope in, if you could make sure that it is coiled and not tangled, we won't have to worry about tripping over it. Regardless of whether our visitor is Harry or something decidedly less desired, we may need to move quickly and we don't want to be tripping over the rope."
Cho took up her position and watched as Professor Dumbledore counted to three. With a mighty heave the two men brought several yards of rope through the archway and Cho scrambled to get it coiled. She had almost all of it carefully out of the way when something caught her eye. The two Aurors were standing still as statues on either side of the arch. The two professors were staring at the rope trying to decide whether or not to try pulling it through again. The movement came from the edge of her vision. She turned her head to look.
"Professor," Lupin said cautiously, "do you still feel someone
there?"
"Yes, but the sensation has changes slightly. I don't feel as great a pull as there was a moment ago."
"Perhaps whatever it was decided to let go?"
"HARRY!" Cho screamed.
What she had seen was that Harry was now lying with his eyes open. His only motion was to turn his head slightly to view the others in the room. At her scream all the others turned as one to look at where Harry lay. Tonks' wand lowered as she took a step towards him. Remus' face shown with relief as he dropped the rope. Dumbledore stood, his eyes twinkling incessantly. Only Moody kept his post, standing with wand ready, his normal eye fixed on the curtain covering the archway and his magical one pointing out the back of his head towards Harry. Cho bolted across the room to catch him under the arms as he tried to struggle to his feet. He was mumbling something but no one could make it out and cared little to bother as they were simply overjoyed to see him. None of them noticed the rope beginning to slip through the archway. Yard by yard it was disappearing. Of its own volition, the knot securing it to one of the stone slabs undid itself and the end of the rope snaked across the floor.
Harry was engulfed. They were hugging him or patting him on the back. The sudden onslaught of light and colors and sound was overwhelming. Harry's mind reeled and for a moment he thought he would faint. Suddenly he stiffened. Before anyone could react, Harry broke free and dove across the floor. He managed to grasp the rope but he couldn't stop it. In a flash, Harry was dragged across the floor and he slammed into the first of the stone steps leading up to the dais where the arch sat. He managed to maintain his grip on the rope, but he was helpless to stop his motion towards the arch. Cho screamed once again, but this time it was not for joy. He was being dragged head first back towards the arch and, in a few heartbeats, he would be gone again; this time forever.
Just as his head reached the top step, Harry managed to flip himself around so that he was sliding feet first. He spread his legs wide and caught the sides of the archway, jamming himself in the entrance. His legs screamed in agony as he tried to hold on. His back felt as if he were being torn in two as he pulled with what little strength he had left. He felt Remus' hands grasp his arms.
"Just let go, Harry," he said softly. "You're back, just let the rope go."
"No," Harry panted. It was a struggle just to get enough breath to speak as he pulled against the rope, against fate. "Sirius is at the other end."
"What?" Remus grabbed at the free end of the rope and, bracing his feet against the first step, leaned against the rope with all his strength.
Tonks and Dumbledore joined him and they were soon making headway in the struggle. As soon as the strain was taken from Harry, he collapsed. Cho and Mad-eye pulled him out of the way before the archway could draw him back in.
As he fell to the floor, Harry began to struggle to reach the rope again. Cho held him back.
"Relax now, Harry," she cooed into his ear. "They're getting him out. We'll watch them from here. Relax, your part is over."
Harry shook his head. "It will never be over," he whispered, too softly for her to hear. He watched as more and more of the rope was withdrawn from the arch, waiting for Sirius to be pulled through.
Moody quickly took up a position behind the three labourers. With his off hand he would grab the rope and toss it behind him and onto the steps. His other hand still held his wand pointed at the arch in case something happened. Suddenly, progress came up short. No matter how the three struggled, no more rope would come through.
"It's useless," gasped Tonks. "There must be a knot or something."
"Sirius," Harry managed to say, "the knot is Sirius. He's right at the archway." Harry stumbled out of Cho's grasp and grabbed the rope. "No you don't, Sirius. I've come too far to let you go now." He pulled with all the strength he had left. Nothing. Not a single millimetre of the rope came through. "So help me, Sirius," Harry panted, "if you don't get out here right this minute, I'm coming back in there and kicking you through."
"Once more," Remus said. "On three. One... Two... Three..." Cho had joined them and all five pulled with all their might. There was a mighty jerk that knocked everyone but Dumbledore to the ground. For a second Harry thought that the rope had snapped but instead of a ragged end, there, just this side of the arch, lay a black lump, covered with slime.
Harry crawled over to it. Remus looked torn between pulling Harry back or joining him. Harry grabbed the rope and quickly the knots came undone and the rope fell away. Harry pawed at the lump. He began to move and shift it. Soon, they could recognize the form a huge black dog lying on the stone floor.
"Padfoot?" Remus said awestruck. "Is it really you?"
Dumbledore stood calmly, shaking his head slowly at the scene before him. Harry was on his knees, wiping the goo from the dog's eyes and listening to its ragged breathing. The dog got shakily to its feet, swaying as its eyes slowly came to focus.
Gradually, the animal became steadier when suddenly he began to shake his head vigorously. Like a wave, the shaking worked its way down the dog's body, flinging goo around the room as it flew out of his hair. Harry barely had time to get his hands over his face to avoid being caked in the slime. Most of the others weren't so lucky.
"Padfoot, you stupid beast!" Remus exclaimed, trying to shake the goo off of his hands and wand.
"Is that really..." Tonks began.
"Is it Sirius?" Harry finished for her. "I don't know, but I know
one thing, it is Snuffles."
Gradually, the feeling of warm sunlight shining on his face began to make its way through the fog in Harry's mind, slowly melting it away and returning him to consciousness. Harry opened his eyes, expecting to see the barren off-white walls that made up his room on Privet Drive, and was momentarily confused by the variations of light and shadow, color and hue, that met him. Where was he if he wasn't with the Dursleys? He struggled to sit up and saw that he had been asleep on a couch. He fumbled for his glasses and found them carefully folded and resting safely on a side table. Able to see once again, Harry quickly realized that he was at the Burrow. He had been left to sleep in their parlor instead of up in Ron's room as he usually did.
Slowly, things came back to him. After returning from beyond the archway, he had barely been able to remain conscious. He had meant to return to Privet Drive but Dumbledore insisted that the Burrow would be a more suitable place. The Weasleys would certainly be more accommodating than the Dursleys towards Snuffles... SNUFFLES! Where was Sirius? Harry remembered pulling him back through the arch and seeing that instead of the human Sirius, he was Snuffles the dog. But where was he now? Did Dumbledore take him away again? He lunged to his feet and stood swaying for a moment before taking a halting step towards the door. Before he could get far from the sofa, he heard a familiar deep bark that told him Snuffles was outside. He staggered backwards and collapsed onto the cushions shaking with relief.
As Harry fought to calm himself, the door to the back garden opened and in bounded Snuffles. He ran up to Harry and stood with his front paws on the cushions and began to lick his face. Harry wrapped his arms around the bushy neck of the dog and hugged him close. The door opened again and Ginny entered the house. She was wearing muggle shorts and a loose t-shirt. Her hair was bound into a haphazard ponytail and she was thoroughly soaked.
"So, you're awake again?" she asked casually. "I hope you don't mind but he," she pointed at Snuffles who was also fairly wet, "needed a bath desperately and, since he refuses to take his human form, I decided to help him out with it. He certainly seemed to enjoy it, especially certain parts." She gave Snuffles a accusing look but the dog just looked back contentedly, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth and dripping onto Harry's lap.
Ginny came over and began to scratch Snuffles behind the ears; he responded by rolling over onto his back so she could scratch his belly. His tail thumped against the couch as she stooped and did so. Sirius had never been overly fond of this sort of thing before, Harry noted, and he certainly wouldn't be lying on his back with all four paws waving in the air in front of Ginny. Harry began to wonder.
"So, you decided to go after him all by yourself?" Ginny said with a forced casualness.
Harry stumbled to come up with an answer. He didn't want to tell her too much if she hadn't already heard anything. He didn't want to lie to her either. His mouth began to work but no sounds came out.
Ginny watched him search for a moment than snapped. "Don't bother; I already know that Cho went with you!"
Harry sat up and looked at her, wondering why she seemed so upset. Suddenly, her hand whipped out and slapped him across the face. Harry's head snapped back and he could do nothing but gape at her.
"How could you?" she asked accusingly. "I thought we were friends!" Her voice grew quiet. "I thought I was your friend."
"You are, Ginny," he began.
"Oh, don't even try." Harry could see that she was near tears. "I even sent you that owl, I told you I wanted to go with you. How could you just ignore me like that? Like I was nothing?"
"What owl? And you're not."
"Come off it, Harry, even Pig doesn't take three days to get from here to Surrey! You knew that I wanted to be there and still you left me out of it. You took Cho instead. When has she ever been there when things got rough? She even took Marietta's side when she ratted out the D.A. Yet you still trust her and not..." She drew a shuddering breath. "What's happened to you, Harry?"
"What owl?" Harry repeated, bewildered. But it was too late, Ginny had already turned and fled. Harry was left to sit and rub the burning red imprint of Ginny's hand on his cheek.
Snuffles thumped his head heavily onto Harry lap and looked up at him with dark soulful eyes.
"What did I do?" he asked the animal rhetorically. Snuffles just snorted, and sat down to scratch behind his ear with a back leg. Giving up on trying to understand Ginny's behavior, Harry continued to Snuffles, "Oh well, I guess we should get ready to head back to Surrey, huh? I'll bet Aunt Petunia will get a real kick out of you."
Harry looked around and pulled his trainers back on. He folded the throw that he had been covered with - it was one of Mrs. Weasley's handmade ones, he noticed - and draped it over the back of the couch. Snuffles began to sniff around the hearth as if trying to pick up the trail of some fallen crumbs. Harry looked at him and shook his head.
"Snuffles," he said quietly and the dog dutifully come over and looked at him. Harry looked into its eyes and tried to see what was behind them. "Sirius? Are you there, Sirius?" Snuffles just shook his head vigorously as if a fly had crawled into his ear and looked back. "Can you turn human again?" There was no response. "You can't, can you?" Harry said sadly. "Cause you're not human anymore." Snuffles wagged his tail and rested his head on Harry's lap. "What have I done to you?"
Harry gathered up his bag and checked that everything was there. He noticed that the Ting had been wrapped in the jumper Cho had been wearing, the one she had used as a pillow for his head. His flannel shirt was missing as well but he assumed that Cho had worn that home since he had her jumper. There was still the small pouch of Floo powder in his bag, so he supposed they could Floo to Mrs. Figg's and walk home from there. The coil of rope he had gotten from the twins was sitting on a table so Harry stuffed that into the bag as well.
Throwing his bag over his shoulder he headed outside to say his goodbyes to the Weasleys, assuming that any of them would speak to him. When he got into the garden he was surprised to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sitting at a picnic table with Professor Dumbledore and Remus. Snuffles practically bowled Harry over in his hurry to run over the other Marauder. Remus welcomed him with a hearty embrace and began to scratch his back roughly. Something important must be up if Mr. Weasley was missing work, Harry thought as he went over to join the group.
Mrs. Weasley budged over into her husband on the bench, making room for Harry, and pulled him down beside her. Harry's heart was in turmoil as he looked at the faces around him. He was still furious with the headmaster for what had happened in his office a few days before, and Remus as well, but, on the other hand, they had both come to help him when he needed it. To be honest with himself, Harry realized that he likely would never have gotten back without them, and he certainly never would have been able to retrieve Sirius without their help. So he was grateful to them as well. Harry said nothing aloud. To avoid having to meet any of their eyes, he just sat staring at the rusting shed behind them all. Finally, Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Ahem," he began softly, "Harry, I realize that you are likely still rather tired after the events of last night but I think it is important that we discuss what happened."
Harry just looked at the table, waiting to find out how he would be punished for this latest act of rebellion.
"That arch has been there in the Department of Mysteries for as long as there has been a department. In fact, I believe, it was to study that very relic that the department was created in the first place. Until last night, no one has ever been able to find out anything about what lies on the other side. People are naturally curious."
Harry looked over at his headmaster. "So I take it that there will be another hearing? Am I to be really expelled this time, or just threatened again?"
Molly looked shocked and Arthur clasped her hands in his. Dumbledore, however, just smiled slightly.
"No, Harry," he said. "This time there will be no hearing. In fact, thanks to some quick work by some new friends within the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries, there has been no official notice that anything at all occurred last night. People are curious, however, to know what happened."
"You mean that Fudge doesn't know?"
Arthur spoke this time. "No, Harry, he doesn't. No report was made of what happened. The last person we want interested in the arch is You-Know-Who, and if Fudge gets wind of it, well, we might as well just place an advert in the Daily Prophet and tell You-know-who ourselves."
"You mean Fudge is a Death..."
"No, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "There is no indication that Cornelius is anything but a fool. However, his office is most likely riddled with spies." He chuckled lightly at his own pun before continuing. "The people who will hear about what happened will only be people that I trust completely."
Harry looked at the old wizard and wondered bitterly if there was anyone whom he trusted completely or anyone who should trust him. He also realized that, at that moment, he just didn't care anymore. They wanted the story, so he told them. Molly's hand flew to cover her mouth when he spoke of the family being killed in the car crash and Harry noted that Mr. Weasley pulled a scrap of paper and a muggle pen from his pocket to jot down a few notes. Harry told them about his striking on the idea of Sirius owing him his soul and how the Fates had seemed compelled by only that. He described their hunting through the fog to find the rope, then Sirius hearing his parent's wedding song and following the sound to the rope. He didn't tell them that he had to fight with Sirius to get him to come or that he had to use the rope to tie him up to stop him from running away.
"I was just about to try to climb out when I was yanked back through the archway. I woke up to find you two," - he indicated Remus and Dumbledore with a nod of his head - "and Tonks, and Mad-eye in the room, and I reckon you know the rest."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore said quietly as he stroked his beard. Molly leaned over to hug Harry but he drew away from her. Remus got up from the table and motioned for the headmaster to join him. They walked a few paces away and spoke in tones too low to make out.
Harry thought for a moment about what to say and settled on, "Well, I reckon I ought to be getting on back to the Dursleys now. I appreciate your letting me stay the night." He tried to get up from the table but Molly engulfed him in her arms and wouldn't let him go.
"There's no way I'm going to let you go back to those horrid relations after what you've been through!" she told him. "You're staying right here for the rest of the summer and that's final. You can stay in Ron's room, or if you like we can fix up..." she sniffed lightly before continuing, "the spare bedroom."
Harry understood that there being a spare bedroom meant that Percy hadn't moved back home. He thought too of Dumbledore's words about having new friends in the Ministry as well as Voldemort having spies. He wondered which category Percy fell into.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, looking over at where Dumbledore and Remus were standing, "but I can't stay. I have to go back."
"Nonsense, Harry! I'll have none of that. I'm perfectly aware of why you have to return to that place every year, but you've spent quite enough time there this summer. It's time for you to come home and rest." Harry's heart swelled at the sound of Mrs. Weasley calling the Burrow his home. He wanted nothing more than for that to be true. But he knew it wasn't.
"I'm really sorry, but I can't. I have to go back. Please understand," Harry said almost pleadingly
"NO! I'll speak with Professor Dumbledore myself. There is no good reason for you to be subjected to those people for one more day!"
"It's not Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed. "It's me." He looked over and watched as the shocked expression on Mrs. Weasley's face turned to sorrow.
"I... I didn't realize. I'm sorry, Harry, I thought you enjoyed being here," she seemed to be choking on the words as she spoke them. "If you'd rather not be here, I won't try to restrain you."
Harry grasped her arm to try to explain. "It's not that! Please, don't ever think that I don't want to be here. There's no place in the world I'd rather be than here with you all, not even Hogwarts."
Molly looked at him with her eyes shining as her husband patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Then why won't you stay?"
Harry shook his head and tried to find a way to explain. "You see, I can't stay now because... because I want to come back."
"Harry, I don't understand what you're trying to say. You're always welcome here. I want you to know that. If it's about Sirius... and those arguments we had..."
Harry shook his head. "No, it's got nothing to do with that! I know you were both just trying to do what you thought was best. I mean, I might not have wanted to hear what you were saying but that doesn't mean..." Harry thought for a moment, fighting to find a way to explain how he felt. "I want nothing more than to stay here, please believe me when I say that. But it's a tradeoff, you see?" Molly and Arthur shook their heads, so Harry tried to explain. "Do you know why I have to keep going back to live with the Dursleys?" he asked.
"Yes," Molly answered. "It's to keep you safe. The protections require that you return to your blood relatives every year. Albus told us that when we tried to adopt you a few years ago, after the twins and Ron had to sneak over in the dead of night to break you out of that horrible place."
Harry was shocked. He never knew that the Weasleys had tried to adopt him. Why did Dumbledore stop it? Harry knew it had to have been him that did. To maintain the blood protections, Harry reasoned immediately. His safety was more important to Dumbledore than his happiness. The Boy Who Lived, Dumbledore's secret weapon should Voldemort return, had to be preserved. Harry felt his anger towards the man who had kept him trapped flare again in his chest.
"I never knew that," he said quietly. "Thank you." Acting on pure impulse, Harry reached over and hugged Mrs. Weasley fiercely. "I wish it could have happened." He held on for a moment, dreaming of having this woman as his mother, but then, as always, he had to return to reality. "It was all about the protections... preserving them. And that's why I have to go back again now."
"But Harry," Molly began, "you've already spent more time there then you have other years. You can leave them again now, even if it is just for a short while."
"But that's really the point, don't you see? I don't want to leave them for 'just a short while'; I want to leave them for good. And that's why I'm going back."
"Harry, I still don't understand," Molly said, confusion written broadly across her face.
Harry looked at Mr. Weasley and saw he was equally bewildered. He thought for a minute. "You see, I have to reside there at least for some part of every year. I don't know exactly how long but usually a month or six weeks seems to be enough to keep the protections in place for the school year." The two Weasleys nodded. "Then, at the end of classes, I have to go right back to renew the charms or whatever. But the protections all expire when I come of age and that's next summer." Again, Molly and Arthur were nodding so Harry plunged on. "Well, if the protections are going to end next summer anyway, why should I go back at all?"
Arthur's eyes grew wide as he suddenly came to understand. "So you want to make sure that the protections are strong enough to last through to your next birthday."
"Exactly!"
"And you plan on staying there are a little longer than usual this year to ensure that everything is fully renewed." Now it was Harry who was nodding. "That way you won't have to go back at all next summer!"
Harry grinned from ear to ear. "That's it! I'll stay with the Dursleys all this summer because I have to, to keep them protected right up until I turn 17, but when I say good-bye on September the first, it's for good. I'll never go back there again."
Molly's happy countenance suddenly turned somber. "But where will you go next summer, Harry? You'll still have a year of schooling left. You're not planning on..."
Harry laughed. "No, I'm not planning on running away and skiving off my last year of school." He grinned wickedly. "Unlike some people, I rather like being at Hogwarts."
"Then where will you go?" Molly repeated.
Harry blushed and he looked down at the table as he spoke. "I was rather hoping that you'd let me come here."
Molly's arms were around him again in a heartbeat and Harry could feel tears on his neck as she spoke. "Of course you can, Harry! We'd like nothing better, isn't that right Arthur?" Mr. Weasley nodded, not only because he agreed wholeheartedly but because he understood that it would be safer to stand in front of the Hogwarts Express running at full steam than to try to stand between his wife and any child she chose to care for. "Oh, we have so much to do to get ready!" she exclaimed as she released him. "We'll have to paint the spare bedroom - I think a nice shade of green would do well, to compliment your eyes, dear - and new curtains too. I want everything to be perfect for when you come home! Oh, and you'll be coming for Christmas, too. Don't even think about staying at school, I won't hear of it!" Molly got up and dashed into the house; probably to start taking measurements for the new curtains, Harry supposed.
"Thank you, Harry," Mr. Weasley said as he stood as well. "You've made Molly quite happy. And me as well."
"No, Mr. Weasley, thank you. I wouldn't have any idea what a real family is like if it weren't for you and yours."
Arthur Weasley reached down and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. It was a gesture that he had seen the man use countless times with his own children and now Harry, too, knew what it felt like; strong, trusting, and secure. With a final pat, Arthur left to join his wife. Harry rose shortly after, still feeling the warmth of the fatherly hand on his shoulder, and headed off to take a quick walk around the pasture before heading back to Surrey.
A quick whistle brought Snuffles out from under some bushes and together they left the garden. Snuffles bounded ahead, joyously barking at a bird as he flushed it from cover. Harry smiled at the scene. He might be a dog, but at least Snuffles was happier than Harry could remember ever seeing Sirius. Harry strolled through the line of trees that surrounded the pasture and watched as Snuffles nosed his way through the tall grass looking for anything that might be interesting. Harry sat in the middle of the meadow and gazed up at the clouds drifting by. After a few minutes, a shadow passed across his face and Harry turned to see who was causing it.
Professor Dumbledore lowered himself down into the grass beside Harry with an ease that Harry would have thought impossible for a man of his age. He folded his long legs underneath him and his robes formed a crimson puddle in his lap with his long silver-white beard making a bridge across it.
"Harry," he said calmly, "I'd like to speak with you about the things that have happened between us recently."
Harry tried hard to control his emotions and just stare back at the older wizard. He held himself still, as still as he was after they had hexed him back in Dumbledore's office. When they had put the truth to all the lies they had been telling him for so long. Harry felt his heart begin to pound loudly in his ears.
"I know some of the things that have happened may seem... untoward."
"Don't you really mean they were lies?" Harry snapped before he could stop himself. He struggled not to jump up and run. If Dumbledore wanted to talk, there was little Harry could hope to do to prevent it, but he also didn't want to lose his temper as he had so often in the last year.
The headmaster paused and seemed to choose his words very carefully. "You are correct, of course. Given hindsight, I have told you a great many lies of late, Harry, and made many promises that I have not kept. I regret them." Harry snorted but Dumbledore didn't react. "When I agreed to allow you to take control of your life, I had no intention of it becoming a lie. Things happened that I could not predict and I had to take action."
"Then what was the point of telling me that I could decide my own fate if you wouldn't let me actually do it? You said you didn't intend to lie to me but you did. The first time that I disagreed with you and what you wanted me to do, you... you..."
"I forced my will upon you?" Dumbledore suggested evenly. "I refused to allow you input into your own affairs and subjugated you to my control?" Harry just turned away, unable to respond. "But how was I to know that it was really your decision, Harry, your choice? How could I know that it wasn't Sirius already controlling your mind?"
"He wouldn't have done that!" Harry screamed. "Sirius isn't evil!"
The old professor waited a moment for his student to catch his breath, which was now coming in ragged gasps. "How much experience do you have with possessions, Harry? How much first hand knowledge?"
Harry wanted to snap but he controlled the impulse. He thought about it. "There was Voldemort, when he tried to possess me in June and I drove him out."
"Yes, Harry, you did drive him out, but then again you didn't want him there in the first place, did you? Any other?"
Harry thought back. "There was Ginny back with Riddle's Diary, but we know that that was completely different."
"We know that now, but, at that time, could we have told the difference?"
Harry ignored this line of argument. "And then there was Professor Quirrell, when Voldemort possessed him back in my first year."
Dumbledore nodded his head at this memory. "Looking back at those incidents it is obvious what was happening, but while they were happening, could anyone really tell if the person possessed was in control at any given time, or the possessor?"
"It was plain at the Ministry," Harry stated.
"Yes, indeed it was. But did you realize that Ginny was being possessed?" Harry shook his head. "Please don't feel any remorse at this Harry, none of us did. Neither did we realize it with Professor Quirrell, and I had known and worked with him for several years before he encountered Voldemort."
Voldemort! That was the key, Harry realized. "But in all of those cases the person doing the possessing was evil, it was Voldemort each time. Sirius isn't evil! He would never have caused me harm... Or do you think that maybe he was? Even after everything that happened, do you still think Sirius is evil?" Harry couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice and Dumbledore heard it clearly.
"No, Harry," he said plainly. "I never felt Sirius was evil. That was why it was so hard to believe that he betrayed your parents. He may have been impetuous, and reckless, but he was never evil."
"Then why did you just assume that he would act like Voldemort?" Harry's tone was sharp and cut deeply.
"I didn't assume that he would act that way; I felt that he could and I acted to protect you from that possibility. Harry, over the long course of my life I have seen a good many cases of possession. Most were as you have also seen; a Dark wizard takes possession of someone weaker and tries to take control of their lives. In your particular instance, and in other rare cases, the Dark wizard misjudged the strength of his intended victim and was driven out. In some instances, as with Miss Weasley, others are able to save the victim of possession. In far too many cases, no one notices the possession in time and the victim is eventually killed one way or another, as in what happened with Professor Quirrell. If I had only known," Dumbledore seemed to age before Harry's very eyes as he remembered this failure, "perhaps he could have been saved as well. Ah, but that is a topic for another time. I have also seen several cases where the original possession seemed rather benign." He paused for a moment to make sure that Harry was still following the conversation. "However, even when the possession began on the most cooperative of terms, eventually it always became a battle for dominance. Two personalities dwelling within a single body? It's not a healthy situation and I have never seen an occurrence where it ended happily."
"That wouldn't have happened with Sirius," Harry said, his anger putting a cold edge on his words.
"Possibly, but I was unwilling to take that chance."
"You had no right!" Harry shouted.
"I couldn't allow you to take that risk."
"BUT IT WAS MY RISK TO TAKE!"
Dumbledore took a deep breath before he continued. "As Headmaster, I am charged with the welfare of all the students in my care. It is a very grave responsibility and one that I take quite seriously. As the head of the Order of the Phoenix, I am also responsible for many lives. I take that responsibility very seriously as well." Harry nodded stiffly, acknowledging the statement but not fully trusting it. "I also feel a special responsibility when it comes to you, Harry. Your parents died as members of the Order. Voldemort has made repeated attempts on your life over the years and he will continue to do so. Your role in his defeat is vital to our success." Harry's face grew hard. Here it was at last; the admission that Harry was nothing more than a tool to Dumbledore, a weapon. "And lastly, I care very deeply about you personally. Harry, I've never married, for various reasons that are not germane to our discussion. I have never had children and, obviously, I have no grandchildren. But I tell you now, Harry Potter, I could not care for, or love, a child of my very own more than I care for you." Harry snorted at this. "I know it may be hard for you to believe now, given what has gone on between us, but it is none the less true. I will do anything in my power to keep you safe. Sirius was a member of the Order. He had shown on numerous occasions that he was willing to lay down his life in the struggle against Voldemort. I knew he was not evil and I also knew that he would make any sacrifice he could to keep you safe. That is why he followed you into the Department of Mysteries in the first place. He was willing to give up his life..."
"And you made sure that he did! You were willing to sacrifice HIS life to safeguard mine!"
"Yes, Harry, I was. I would make any sacrifice necessary to protect you. And I will continue to do so in the future." Dumbledore said calmly.
"Except your own life," Harry said bitterly.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Harry, we both know that sacrificing your own life is an easy thing, because we are not the ones who would have to deal with the consequences."
"So, now you're calling him a coward, too!" Harry was so angry that he was shaking. His fists were clenched and his knuckles stood out white with the strain.
"No, I am doing no such thing," Dumbledore replied, still speaking in an unnervingly calm tone. "If you had been given the choice in that graveyard, would you have died in place of Cedric?" Harry sat back in shock, his mouth hanging open. Dumbledore nodded slowly and sadly. "I know that you would have. You are nothing like a coward, Harry, and neither was your godfather. Sacrificing your own life is easy; what is difficult is living with what you are forced to sacrifice instead." Harry closed his mouth and sat there, staring at the ground. "I do not ask your forgiveness for what I have done to you. It was unforgivable. But I felt that you deserved an explanation." With this he rose and walked away, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts once again.
The clouds continued to drift across the sky but Harry no longer saw them. His mind reeled with what Dumbledore had just told him. Was it all another pack of lies intended to keep him cooperative for a bit longer? Was he just being manipulated once again? Or, could it possibly be the truth? Did it matter, since the end result of either was that Harry still wasn't allowed any control over his own destiny?
Harry couldn't begin to answer these questions and so he set them aside. He picked up a stick and, waving it, caught Snuffles' attention. Harry threw the stick as far as he could and watched as all that remained of his godfather bounded through the grass to retrieve it. As Snuffles returned, Harry reached out for the stick only to watch as the dog ran straight past him. Harry turned in time to see the dog leap onto the chest of Remus Lupin and knock him sprawling. Harry couldn't help but laugh as he got to his feet to see the extent of the damages to his former teacher.
When Harry got to them, he saw Remus and Snuffles rolling around in a tangle of arms and legs and fur. He heard Snuffles yip and mock-growl at Remus, and was shocked to hear the normally staid intellectual reply in kind. When the pair rolled up against his legs, Remus looked up and finally noticed Harry watching them. He had a mouthful of Snuffles' fur and was shaking the ruff of the dog's neck as if he was an errant pup. Remus sprang to his feet and, shamefaced, began to wipe the hair from his mouth. Harry laughed out loud and Remus replied with a broad grin. It seemed to take years off of his appearance.
"Sorry about that," he managed to say while still picking hair off of his tongue. "It's just that I thought I'd never get to do that again, and then last night..." Remus was actually blushing with embarrassment.
Harry sat in the grass again and began to scratch Snuffles, who still seemed to want to wrestle. Remus plopped down next to them and joined in rubbing Snuffles' fur.
"I suppose I really ought to thank you, Harry, for bringing him back to me."
"Hmm?"
"Sirius," Remus said. "You brought him back to me, Harry." Harry raised his eyebrows in shocked misunderstanding. "Being a werewolf, I've never had that many friends, Harry. In fact, except for the Marauders, I haven't had any."
"But what about all the other members of the Order?" Harry asked. He knew what loneliness was like and he didn't want to think of Remus, however much he might be angry with him at the moment, as being alone.
"They are compatriots, certainly, but friends? I don't know. I can still see the fear in their eyes when the moon starts turning full. I've seen Shacklebolt double checking and reinforcing the wards on the room in Grimmauld Place where I used to lock myself up. Can people really be your friends if they're afraid of you?" Again, Harry knew exactly what the werewolf was speaking about. He saw that same fear in the eyes of his classmates. "Sirius was the last true friend I had. Prongs and Lily are both gone. Peter... was he ever really a friend? No, Padfoot was the last and I thought I had lost him again. You brought him back, Harry, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart." He looked down at Snuffles, who was wagging his tail to beat the band. "I think he's rather grateful, too."
Harry's face suddenly took on a serious cast. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said quietly.
Remus gazed at the young man intently. Harry was looking more solemn than Remus thought possible. After all, he had just done what the best magical minds in England thought was impossible and rescued his own godfather from death. He should be ecstatic, why was he so glum?
"What's wrong, Harry? You should be beside yourself that he's back," Remus said.
Harry just shook his head. "I am. It's just that I'm not so sure Sirius is."
"Look at him, Harry. I've never seen him so happy, at least not since we were at Hogwarts and pranking the Slytherins."
Harry somehow looked even sadder. "Yeah, look at him. He's a dog."
"Sirius always was a dog," Remus joked, trying to lighten Harry's mood and failing completely. "Listen Harry, just because he isn't changing back right now, that doesn't mean that he never will. Maybe he's just getting used to things again. Remember, after he got out of Azkaban, he spent a lot of time as Padfoot."
"Look at him, Remus, really look." Harry scratched behind Snuffles' ear and the dog rolled over in pleasure. "Sirius would never do this, even in his dog form. He never acted this way. This morning, he let Ginny give him a bath!"
"He did?" Remus responded. He thought for a moment before continuing. "Then even if he never regains his human form, he's still back and that's a good thing."
"I'm not so sure," Harry said cryptically.
"What do you mean?"
"He didn't want to come back, you know. I practically had to carry him back to look for the rope, after they let me take him anyway. He didn't want to go. He told me to go back and to just leave him there. It was where he belonged, he said."
"Harry," Remus said, reaching over to grasp the young man's shoulder. Harry shrugged him off and leaned back out of reach, "maybe he was just trying to protect you still, to get you to save yourself instead of wasting energy trying to save him?"
Harry looked into Remus' eyes - both sets, green and hazel, held a depth of sorrow and loss that few others would ever plumb - then replied, "You know, Dumbledore once told me that death was just the beginning of the next great adventure. Do you believe that, too?"
Now Remus turned somber as well. "You mean, do I believe in an afterlife?" Harry nodded. "I suppose so; I reckon that most folks do, one way or another."
"Then Sirius was ready to move on and I forced him back. He didn't want to come but I made him. I forced him to come back against his will."
"Harry," Remus almost pleaded, "don't beat yourself up over this!
You saved him."
"I saved him from WHAT? Finding peace? Making a new life for himself where he didn't have to run and hide all the time? Where people weren't looking to punish him for crimes he never committed? Maybe meeting up with my folks again? Is that what I saved him from?" Remus was stunned, he couldn't begin to reply, and Harry continued notwithstanding. "I was selfish. I was greedy. All I could think of was that I wanted him back, that I didn't want to be alone again, and that I didn't want to be responsible for his death, too. So, I dragged him back. I didn't save him."
Remus leaned forward, meaning to embrace Harry, to try to give him the support physically that he didn't know how to give verbally, but Harry just collapsed back into the grass and stared up at the sun.
"Maybe we're all going about this the wrong way," he said at last.
"I'm not following you at all," Remus answered.
"Voldemort," came the reply. "We're all trying to find a way to kill him. Maybe that's just the opposite of what we ought to be doing." Remus shook his head in bewilderment. Harry continued, "If you believe that there is a life after this one, then it stands to reason that there is another one after that, right?"
"Yes," Remus said tentatively.
"Then one after that and again after that." Remus was nodding. "Then this life is just one short step among many. There are countless lives to come and countless more that we've already lived." Harry sat up and looked at his old professor. "So what's so special about this one? Let Voldemort have it. He's so afraid of dying; let's just give him what he wants."
"Harry, Voldemort seeks power..."
"Only as a means to an end," Harry interrupted. "The power he really seeks is the power over death, immortality. A couple years ago, Hermione did some research over the summer. It was after our second year, after the Chamber of Secrets, when we first learned that Voldemort's real name was Tom Riddle."
"You've got me totally baffled here, Harry."
Harry began to explain. "Riddle chose a new name for himself. He chose Voldemort. Do you know what that means?"
"It's derived from Latin. It means 'to defeat death', I believe."
"To defeat Death; that's what Voldemort really wants. All this pure-blood nonsense doesn't mean anything really. It's just a means to an end, and that end is to become immortal, to never die."
"And you're saying that we ought to let him do that?"
"Why not? Let him kill everyone. Wizard, muggle, mudblood, pureblood, he'd have to kill us all. If he left anyone alive, he'd be risking that they would someday be able to kill him, even his own Death Eaters."
Remus was in shock. Harry couldn't possibly be serious. "You'd actually let him do that?"
"Like I said, why not? We'd all just move on to the next great adventure. Isn't that what the afterlife is for? Moving on? Let him have this life while we all move on to the next one. Maybe, it will be a better one? Let's leave him behind, all alone on a barren planet for all eternity, just Tom Riddle on a cold dead rock in space forever. Can you think of a better punishment for him that that? Giving him exactly what he wants?"
"But what about all the pain he's caused, and will cause?"
Harry shrugged. "Isn't birth painful? Maybe the pain of death in this life is nothing more than the pain of birth in the next? Fleeting, but necessary."
"So what you're saying, Harry, is that maybe the best way to fight Voldemort is by killing..."
"Myself?" Harry shrugged again. "Or, I could just walk up to Ole Tom and let him do it. Hell, maybe I just ought to turn Dark myself and start killing all of you? I'd just be helping you all to move forward into the next life, after all. What's the harm in that?"
Remus was beginning to become truly worried. "Harry, I'm way out of my depth here. What if you're wrong? What if there isn't anything else? Or if it's worse?"
Harry chuckled and it sounded nothing but sad. "And thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." He stood up and made to walk back to the house. Remus jumped up after him, not wanting to let it end on that note.
"Harry, this is pretty heavy stuff. I think you ought to talk to somebody about it. Maybe the headmaster?" Harry sniffed derisively. "I know you aren't too happy with him at the moment. He's going through a pretty rough patch as well." Harry shook his head at the idea. "He was really set back when you pointed those things out about Severus."
"Those things?" Harry exclaimed in shock. "Don't you mean the truth?"
"Yes," Remus agreed, "truths that he hadn't realized. And then to
recall that he was the one who let on to Voldemort about the link
between you two."
"He let on to Voldemort?"
"Yes, he recalled that he had talked to Moody about your scar back during the Triwizard Tournament but then Moody turned out to be Crouch Jr, a Death Eater. He was stunned to realize that he had been the one who put you in so much danger."
Harry shook his head and laughed. "And people accuse me of being self-absorbed!"
"Harry! The man is sincerely..."
"WRONG! He's sincerely and totally wrong." Once again, Remus was baffled. It was fast becoming a habitual feeling but he still didn't like it. Harry went on. "Remus, Dumbledore didn't tell Riddle about our link, Crouch didn't tell him, and certainly Snape didn't tell him. Nobody did. Nobody had to. He found out about it all by himself. He knew about it before Dumbledore did, before I was even really in Hogwarts."
"What do you mean, Harry? How?"
"It happened when we all of us were waiting to be Sorted." Remus stopped dead in his tracks and Harry turned to look at him while he spoke. "Everyone was talking about which house they wanted to be in, and gawping at the ceiling, and wondering when dinner would be served." Harry grinned but Remus didn't see the humor. "I was looking up at the staff table. Hagrid and Quirrell were the only two professors that I had met, and Quirrell already had Voldemort inside his head at the time. Quirrell was turned away from me, talking to Snape..."
"Professor Snape, Harry."
Harry snarled, "Be glad I don't call him worse. Anyways, Snape was glaring at me like I was trying to murder his mother or something. Suddenly, my scar starts to hurt and I grab at it. Ron noticed and asked if I was all right. It was the very first time my scar ever hurt like that and Voldemort, looking out of the back of Quirrell's head, was watching it all happen. He knew right from the start that we were linked."
Remus' brows were knit in amazement. "Well, I'll be buggered."
"And even if Voldemort was too dim to realize what he had seen, Ron, Hermione, and I spent the next three years talking about how my scar hurts whenever Voldemort acts up. And who was sitting right there in Ron's vest pocket all the while? Scabbers, that's who."
"Peter..."
"Wormtail," Harry added then spit into the grass. "So even if Tom didn't know about the link, I'm sure that Wormtail was delighted to tell him every little thing he knew, when he went crawling back. Dumbledore didn't do a thing! As usual."
Remus was too busy digesting all of this to admonish Harry. "Would you mind if I told the headmaster about this?"
Harry shrugged; he had been doing a lot of that lately. "Why not? If I can't do anything useful, I might as well just play the fool and tell King Albus where he's bunged it all up."
Remus' reply was cut short by Molly's voice calling up from the house that lunch was ready. Remus raised his eyebrows at Harry and said, "Might as well eat. You never know when you'll get your next chance." Harry knew that for the werewolf the sentiment was more than just an idle thought. Side by side they made their way down the path. After a moment, Snuffles came barreling along and ploughed into the back of Remus' legs, sending him sprawling again. Remus laughed as he checked himself for injuries and then stood.
"Harry," he said seriously, "never stand between Padfoot and food."
Harry shook his head and replied, "Then he ought to fit right in
here at the Burrow."
Mrs. Weasley had set lunch up in the garden, and the tables were laden with platters of sandwiches and meat pies. Remus was staying for lunch but Professor Dumbledore was, much to Harry's relief, nowhere to be seen. Harry's mouth began to water from the delicious smells; that is, until it suddenly went dry when a decidedly angry-sounding voice called his name.
"Potter!"
Then another equally unwelcome voice joined in, "We'd like to have a word with you!"
He turned to see Fred and George Weasley coming out the back door of the Burrow and heading directly towards him. Harry's face suddenly went pale and all the moisture that had left his mouth began to appear in the palms of his hands. An angry pair of Weasley twins was not a heartening site, even the bravest of Gryffindors walked softly around them when they were in a temper, and Harry had momentarily forgotten that they had parted on less than friendly terms yesterday. He wondered what sort of a creature they were going to turn him into, and whether or not his hair would ever return to its normal color, if it ever returned at all, when they were finished. Wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, Harry approached them.
"Fred. George," he began uncertainly, "I sort of want to talk to you as well... about things."
"Things? Things, he says. Did you hear that, dear brother," one of them said.
The other answered without skipping a beat, "Indeed I did, brother mine. I dare say that we..."
"...have some things to discuss with him as well."
"Imagine our surprise, Mr. Potter, when we came down from our flat this morning..."
"...to open up the shop..."
"...only to find someone already inside and waiting for us?"
Harry blanched; had Death Eaters tracked him back to the twins? He thought he had thrown them all off the scent.
"It was none other than a certain..."
"...Professor Dumbledore."
Harry heaved a sigh of relief, which was short-lived as one of the twins began to poke his finger into Harry's chest and the other rapped a fist into the palm of his hand in a decidedly threatening manner.
The twins resumed their stereoscopic assault. "He wanted to know..."
"...why we had provided you with a certain, rather talented rope, and if we had..."
"..provisioned you with any other unusual and unique items that he was unaware of."
"He also wanted to know..."
"...why a certain special order of his was placed..."
"...on the back burner while we pursued something entirely different..."
"...for you."
"And the worst part of it all..." At this, each twin placed a hand on Harry's chest and shoved. Harry staggered backwards a step and then, just as he thought he was regaining his balance, his heels caught on the rock border that surrounded one of Mrs. Weasley's flower beds. Harry's arms pin wheeled, but to no avail, and he soon found himself sitting in the middle of a patch of purple Pansies. Molly gasped and moved to intervene, but Arthur restrained her with a hand on her shoulder. He spoke quietly in her ear for a moment.
"The very topper of the whole affair..."
Here it comes, Harry thought. I hope it's at least quick and relatively painless.
The twins now spoke in perfect harmony, "is that YOU ran off and rescued Sirius on your own, and DIDN'T INVITE US TO COME ALONG!"
"How could you be so selfish?" one said hotly, resuming the alternating attack.
"It's bad enough that we didn't get to go with you to the Ministry the last time..."
"...not to mention all your other little jaunts..."
"...but to not be invited THIS TIME..."
"... even after we even provided the vital materials..."
"...is simply the action of a..."
"... greedy..."
"...self-centered..."
"...egotistical..."
"...practically Slytherin..." The second twin turned towards the first with a shocked expression. After a second, they both shrugged and concluded in unison, "GIT!"
Harry just sat there with Pansies poking up between his knees, completely flabbergasted. The scene would have been quite hilarious if it had been anyone else on the receiving end, or if the twins didn't look quite so murderous. His mouth worked for a moment before he could make any sound.
"Sorry?" he squeaked.
The twins looked at each other again and after a moment of silent communication they extended their hands to help him up.
"All right for this time..."
"...just don't EVER let it happen again!"
Harry stood and began to slap at the dirt on his trousers. The twins shared an evil grin that Harry didn't see and joined in to help. Even though their slaps seemed a bit harder than technically necessary, Harry knew that he was getting off lightly.
They made their way to the table, where Remus was about to sit down. As Harry passed behind him, Remus turned and lightly kicked Harry in the seat of his trousers. Harry looked around with a startled expression on his face, but Remus merely shrugged. As Harry was about to say something, another foot struck him, a good deal harder this time. Harry spun to see Ginny standing there with a mean smirk on her face. Harry didn't bother trying to speak; he just spun again and caught Molly Weasley in the act of drawing her foot back for a kick of her own.
Harry glared at her, but she just smirked at him and replied, "Well, you are wearing the sign, dear."
Harry looked over his shoulder and saw the corner of a piece of parchment stuck to his back. He tried to grab it but couldn't quite reach. He could just imagine what the sign read. He tried to stretch and as he did so, he shifted his feet slightly. He could manage to just touch it but couldn't grab hold of the parchment. He tried to stretch his hand a mite further. Not quite yet. He shifted again and tried to stretch further still. Harry struggled like this for a minute before he realized that all his shifting was doing was causing him to spin around in a circle. He looked at the others gathered around him and saw that they were all staring at him, staring and grinning, grinning like... well, like Weasleys.
"Really, Harry, did you pick that little trick up from Sirius?" Fred said, "Chasing your own tail?"
Ginny snickered and answered her brother's question, "No, he's quite a natural at running around in circles."
The entire gathering now broke out in laughter. Ginny wiped tears from her eyes and Molly finally took pity on him and pulled the flashing 'Kick Me I'm a Prat' sign from the back of his shirt.
Harry looked at the twins with a glare and said, "You had to make it FLASH?"
They just shrugged and answered, "But of course..."
"...and charm it to always move just out of reach."
"Only six Sickles, quite a bargain."
Harry shook his head in frustration, but Arthur patted him on the shoulder and simply said, "Welcome home, son."
Lunch was wonderful; the food was typically delicious and Harry, more than once, 'accidentally' dropped one of the meat pies to the ground where Snuffles was waiting. If anyone noticed, no one said a word. The only discordant note for Harry was that Ginny was still angry with him and he hadn't a clue why. She sat at the opposite end of the table from Harry and chewed her food with exceptional vigor whenever Harry looked in her direction.
The food was quickly gone, and Molly had stood to take the empty platters back to the kitchen when Harry's eye caught a slight hint of movement above the trees. He watched intently and slowly drew his wand. Everyone at the table noticed the action and immediately seven wands were pointed in the direction Harry was looking.
"Do you see something, Harry?" Molly asked with concern evident in her voice.
Harry thought a moment and said, "Yeah, but I'm not sure..."
"It's an owl," Ginny stated.
Harry looked again. "It's Pig!"
The wee owl circled the table once, while Harry put his wand back in his pocket. He came straight towards Harry, but Fred reached out his hand and caught him first. Pig looked tired, even his pinfeathers seemed to sag a mite. George untied a small scroll from his leg and the owl immediately hopped over to Ginny's shoulder.
"Poor Pig," she said in a coo to the bird. "You look positively exhausted. Where have you been?" She shot Harry a stony look as if to ask why he had sent her owl - all right, it was technically Ron's owl but he never really cared for him all that much - off on an errand when he had a perfectly good owl of his own.
She held out her hand for the note but Fred said, "It's for Harry." Ginny's brows raised high as the now familiar-looking note was handed over. Harry saw her discomfort and he rose from the table. He began to walk back towards the pasture as he read the note:
Harry,
I spoke with Ron and Hermione. I know what you told them and more importantly, I know what they told you. Do you really think you can save Sirius?
I know you told Hermione that you were going to wait, but I know you, Harry. You won't wait long and when you go, I want to go with you. I miss Sirius too and I trust you to get him back.
I trust you, Harry, and no matter what, I want to be there to help you.
Yours,
Ginny
Harry stood and looked at the note in his hands. Now he understood her anger. After a moment someone spoke from behind him.
"Is that my note?" Ginny asked in a small voice. Harry just nodded his head. "So, you didn't get it before?"
"No, I didn't get it, and I didn't just ignore it," Harry said just as quietly.
"Oh Harry, I'm so..."
"Don't say it, Gin," Harry interrupted. "You were still right. I deserved it." Ginny made a quizzical noise so Harry continued, "I shouldn't have needed a note. And I shouldn't have just assumed how you would react, how you would feel. You've always been a good friend and I should have, at least, shown you the courtesy of talking to you about it."
"But you did talk to Ron and Hermione," Ginny said, still in her soft voice.
"Yeah, and I let them tell me what they thought. I should have done the same for you. I shouldn't have just assumed that you would think the same way they did. I deserved to get smacked. I'm sorry, Ginny."
Harry was still looking at the note, so Ginny rested her hand on his back. "I think I understand, Harry. After what Hermione had just said to you then, I can see how you wouldn't want to talk about it all over again."
"But I still should have. I should have trusted you to think for yourself. You're not Hermione... and you're certainly not Ron!"
Ginny snickered and said teasingly, "I'm so glad you finally noticed."
Harry grinned back and built upon her attempt to lighten the mood. "Oh, c'mon, Ginny, I'm thick but I'm not that thick!"
Ginny now shared his grin for a moment then asked, "You reckon the Ministry is still intercepting your mail and that's why Pig took so long?"
"Nah, London is only about thirty kilometers from Little Whinging. It wouldn't have taken this long."
Ginny's face paled as she spoke, "You don't think it was them, do you?"
Harry knew who she meant, the Death Eaters. "If it were, then Pig never would have been let go. It was somebody else."
"Who else could it have been?" Ginny asked.
Harry looked at her for a moment and said, "How long does it take Pig to fly to Hogwarts?"
"You don't think that..."
"If he were to fly there and back in, say, a couple of days?" Harry continued.
"It would really wear him out," Ginny concluded. "He would be one tired little owl." Harry nodded. The two of them stood and looked out at the pasture for a few minutes, not speaking, just thinking about the implications of what they had reasoned. Finally, Ginny reached up on tiptoe and kissed Harry lightly on the cheek, where the red imprint of her hand still stood out. Harry blushed deeply and the mark disappeared into the flush.
"I am sorry I hit you though," she said. "You can be a bit thick-headed but you would never deliberately hurt me." Harry actually blushed even more and it made Ginny smile.
"So'm I, you pack quite a wallop."
"Well then, let it be a lesson to you." She hesitated a moment before continuing, "So, can I ask you a question without starting another row?"
"Sure, Ginny, anything."
"Why did you ask Cho to go with you?"
"I didn't ask her. She asked me."
"Huh?"
Harry looked at the petite red-head and asked, "Why did you want to come? For that matter, why did you want to come the first time, back in June?"
Ginny looked at him and her brow began to knit. "You shouldn't have to ask that, Harry. I wanted to go in order to help you."
"Is that the only reason? What if it weren't me? Suppose it was someone else, someone you didn't even know, would you still have gone?"
Ginny considered this before answering, "Yes. I would have gone anyway. I... I need to fight him. I need to fight Voldemort. I need to show that he didn't win back there in the Chamber, that he didn't break me."
Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, we have that in common, I reckon. We have to stand up to him for our own reasons. Not just for the good of all, but to prove something to ourselves. And Cho feels the same way." Ginny shook her head in confusion so Harry continued. "Cho and Cedric were very close and, when he was killed, she took it quite hard. It took her a long time to come to terms with it, but I think she has finally made some progress." He looked over at Ginny and continued, "We both know how that goes, don't we?" Ginny nodded sadly. "But she had to do more than just get over losing Cedric; she had to prove, to herself as much as anybody, that she wasn't helpless. She needed to fight back in order to regain some control over her own life."
Ginny looked straight into Harry's eyes. "Sort of like what you have been doing this summer? You're fighting back, even against Dumbledore. You're trying to take control of your own life."
Harry thought for a moment. He had never really turned it around to look at his own actions in this light. "Yeah, maybe I am. I never really thought about how I was behaving that way before." He looked at her appraisingly. "You're a clever girl, you know that? Maybe you are a bit like Hermione after all?"
Ginny snorted a laugh. "Yeah, but I'm a lot more like Ron than I'd like to admit."
Harry gave her a shocked look. "Oh, really?" He slung his arm companionably around her shoulder and they began to walk back towards the house.
Ginny put her hand up on Harry's shoulder in return; her shoulder nestled right under his in a perfect fit, as they walked at a matched pace through the grass. "Oh, yes," Ginny explained. "For instance, we both have a horrible temper. We're not at all easy going."
Harry nodded, "That is true."
"And we're both stubborn as mules." Again Harry nodded. "Oh, and we can't forget the most obvious thing of all," she said, holding out a handful of her vibrantly red hair. Harry stopped and took a bit of her hair between his fingers.
"Really?" he asked. "I think your hair is quite different. Aside, of course, from the fact that both your hair colors can be generally called red, they're not at all alike." Ginny tilted her head and looked at him. "Ron's hair is orange, or to be more accurate, it's Chudley Cannons Orange."
Ginny hid a snort behind her hand. "You know something?" she said. "Sometimes I think the only reason he loves the Cannons so much is that their gear matches his head!"
Harry chuckled his agreement. "But your hair is definitely not Chudley Orange. Your hair is Gryffindor." Ginny looked at him questioningly and Harry continued, "It a deep, rich red and spun through with gold so that it catches the light from the common room fire and shimmers. It's... really quite lovely."
Ginny blushed and bowed her head to conceal it. "Oh Harry, that's just the sweetest thing to say! Now I know what Cho sees in you... but I still don't get what you see in her." Harry gave her a glare and she raised her hands in surrender. "OK, OK, I'm sorry I brought it up. Consider the topic closed and I won't open it again."
Harry changed subjects, "So, speaking of orange-haired, stubborn, and easily riled blokes, where is Ron anyway?"
Ginny smiled in a very Gred-and-Forge sort of way and said, "He took off just after breakfast. I think he was sort of avoiding you."
"Avoiding me? Whatever for?"
"He thinks you're going to be hacked off with him for agreeing with Hermione and not sticking by you. When Dumbledore and Professor Lupin brought you and Snuffles here last night, Mum suggested that we bring you up to Ron's room to sleep, like always, and he just sort of went white all over. Then, this morning, he made sure that he got himself up and out of the house before you even stirred."
"But why would he think that he had to avoid me?"
"He reckons that you're mad at him."
"But why would I be?"
Ginny looked straight at Harry as she spoke, "Because you went off on your own and did what they didn't want to do."
"But that's just ridiculous," Harry said, dumbfounded.
"He's also probably thinks that you think that he was afraid to go, and he's ashamed."
"WHAT? How could he possibly think that? Just because he didn't want to go along with my hare-brained scheme?" Ginny nodded. "That's just... that's just stupid."
Ginny turned on him in a heartbeat. "It is NOT stupid!" she practically shouted at him. "How many times has he gone along with your plans, eh? How many? Then the one time when he doesn't just agree with you, when he thinks he's convinced you that maybe somebody else has a better idea than you do, what happens? You just go off and do whatever you want anyway! What is he supposed to think? He's gonna think that you are going to go off and do whatever it is that you want to do, no matter what anyone else says. And, if he doesn't go along with you, then he is either afraid or disloyal to you, that's what!"
"But I don't think that! Just because he doesn't want to come along on every daft thing that I have to go and do, that doesn't mean he's afraid, and it certainly doesn't make him disloyal. You guys are the most loyal friends anybody could ever ask for!"
"Well, maybe you ought to be telling him that," Ginny said flatly.
Harry paused and then nodded, "OK, where is he? I'll go and tell him right now. And Hermione as well."
"Well, Hermione's not here anymore. She only stayed a couple of days for your party and all."
"Did she and Ron have another fight?" Ginny flushed slightly. "Was it about Viktor?" Ginny nodded. "All right then, where is he? I'll straighten this out with him before I go and talk to Hermione."
Ginny seemed uncomfortable. "You might want to wait a bit on that," she suggested.
"Why? Where is he?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think he's on the other side of the village... with Luna."
"What?" Harry looked at her with his eyes wide. He remembered, during their walk to the Quidditch World Cup Portkey location, hearing it said that both the Diggorys and the Lovegoods lived near Ottery St. Catchpole. "You mean she and he... I thought he liked Hermione?"
Ginny shrugged. "I think he does too, but Luna likes him - she has since we were all kids - and, right now, I think that's what Ron wants: someone who wants him."
Harry just shook his head. He'd never understand this relationship codswollop. Fighting Voldemort was just so much simpler; the only feeling they shared was a mutual hatred and each spent every waking moment trying to figure out how to kill the other. All in all, it was so much simpler than trying to figure out how girls thought, or why they acted the way they did.
When the two got back to the garden, Snuffles was still busy sniffing the ground around the table, looking for any remaining scraps. Harry approached and ruffled his fur.
"I see that I'm going to have my hands full trying to keep you fed, huh?" he said fondly.
Harry picked up his satchel and checked to make sure that all his things were still there. Then he began to turn over in his mind the question of how he was going to get back to Privet Drive with Snuffles. He didn't think the large dog would handle the Floo Network very well, and how would he know which grate to get out of? The two simply couldn't travel together, as they would never fit into the fireplace. So, it looked like Harry would have to go the Muggle way, although he had no idea how long it would take, or how the conductors would react to seeing a very large dog trying to climb on board the motorbus with him. Oh well, he'd just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Maybe he could just take a bus to Exeter and then take a train. With luck, he might be able to find one that stopped in Surrey before reaching London, and so save themselves from doubling back. As he was mulling this over, Molly came out of the house carrying a note.
"Harry, dear," she called, "everyone had to go back to work, but before Remus left, he asked me to give you this." She handed him the note, along with a sealed parchment envelope.
Harry read the note first. It told him that inside the envelope was a Portkey. Dumbledore had enchanted it to go back and forth from the Burrow to Number 4. That way, Harry could visit more easily, and get Snuffles away from Harry's relations as well. It also meant, Harry understood immediately, they had intended that he shouldn't ride the motorbike when he came to visit. Not that Harry was going to give up riding the bike in any case, but let them think what they liked. Harry gathered his things and said his goodbyes; then he opened the envelope and looked inside. Tucked into the folds of the parchment was the worn old fob and key that had been his Portkey to Grimmauld Place earlier that summer. Harry now understood that the key was Sirius'; it was the key to his old motorbike.
Harry took a firm hold of the fur of Snuffles' neck and then stuck a finger into the envelope to touch the key. Just like with the first time he had used a Portkey, standing with Cedric, Mr. Diggory, and surrounded by Weasleys on Stoatshead Hill to go and see the Quidditch World Cup. Harry felt his finger stick to the key, as if he couldn't let go of it if he wanted to, then the tug behind his navel that sent colors swirling before his eyes. Seconds later, he was unceremoniously dumped to the floor of the smallest bedroom of number four, Privet Drive, with Snuffles falling on top of him.
* * * * *
To say that Aunt Petunia wasn't thrilled to find that she would be having a dog roughly the size of a Shetland pony living in her pristine house would be an understatement. She looked to be about to launch into a tirade such as Harry hadn't seen since he accidentally dropped a half-dozen eggs, smashing them all over her freshly waxed kitchen floor, when he was six. Her eyes screwed up and she drew in a deep breath, and then Harry casually mentioned that if she didn't want his godfather living there, then she could just toss him out herself. Well, she had taken no more than a half step towards them when Snuffles let go a deep, low growl that started the glass knick-knacks on the shelves in the lounge to vibrating. Petunia quickly realized that the few short weeks left before Harry would return to school would pass more quickly if she was not being treated for bites from a possibly rabid beast. She settled for telling Harry that if 'that animal' left a single mess in her garden or dug up a single flower that she had planted, it was off to the RSPCA with it. Harry nodded meekly and agreed.
Deciding that discretion was still his best course of action, Harry took his leave. He reckoned that out of sight, out of mind was the best place for them to be for awhile, so he headed upstairs with Snuffles in tow. He pushed open the door to his bedroom and was greeted by a hoot from Hedwig.
"Hello, girl," he called. Then he noticed that Hedwig wasn't alone in her cage.
Sitting next to his Snowy was Cho's small Screech owl, and there was a message lying on the desk in front of the cage. Harry gave the birds fresh water and made sure that they had a few owl treats before he sat down to read the note. Snuffles plopped his head onto Harry's thigh and watched.
Dear Harry;
Are you all right? I'm worried because they wouldn't let me see you or go with you last night. All that Professor Dumbledore would tell me was that you would be taken care of and then he had that Tonks woman bring me home. Did you know that she was a Metamorphmagus? And an Auror? She seemed nice enough but she wouldn't tell me anything either.
Please, tell me that you're OK. Where did they take you? You're not in trouble, are you? Were you able to find Sirius? And why did you come back with that dog?
I'm so worried, please send me word as soon as you can and let me know what happened.
Love,
Cho
Harry read through the note a second time before looking up at the Screech owl.
"Your Mistress can certainly ask a lot of questions, can't she?" he asked it. "And you're supposed to wait for a response?" The little bird hooted.
Harry grinned then sat at his desk and removed a sheet of parchment and a quill. He tapped the point of the quill against his teeth a few times in thought, before he dipped it into a pot of ink and began to write.
Cho,
Please, don't worry, I'm fine. After everything we did at the Ministry, I was exhausted. I don't rightly remember exactly what went on, I was just that tired. I hope I remembered to thank you for helping me. If I didn't, let me do it now. Thank you. Having you there was a great help and I truly appreciate your coming with me. You're a great friend.
Harry paused for a moment, remembering his other great friends and how he needed to thank them as well. His shook his head lightly and returned to Cho's note.
I did find Sirius, and I managed to bring him back, or at least part of him. That dog was him. You see Sirius is an Animagus and his animal form is that big black dog. It's really a long story so I won't write it here. I promise I'll tell you the whole thing the next time we meet. That is, if you want to meet again. I know you're busy.
Anyway, with Sirius here I don't think I should head into London, at least for a while. Maybe you could come here and the three of us could find something to do?
Write back and let me know.
Harry
He gave the note to the small owl, who clamped it firmly in its beak, and carried the bird over to the window. It leapt from his arm and with two sweeps of its wings had disappeared around the corner of the house. Harry returned to his desk and began to idly scratch Snuffles behind the ears, thinking of how best to spend his time.
The next day, Harry was sitting at his desk, reading the old text on Apparation that Dumbledore had given him for his birthday. From his reading, it didn't sound too difficult, at least until he actually tried it, that is. He was wondering if he could try practicing at Hogwarts when the doorbell rang downstairs. Normally, Harry wouldn't have bothered paying attention as it wouldn't be for him, but Snuffles had immediately gotten up at the sound and was pawing at the door. Taking this as a sign, Harry got up as well and opened the door. Snuffles rushed past him and down the stairs before Harry had time to shut the door behind him.
As Harry approached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Dudley standing in the open doorway with one arm leaning against the jamb. Harry couldn't tell if this was some sort of pathetic attempt to appear debonair or if his cousin was deliberately trying to completely block the way.
"So," Dudley said, trying to sound suave, "what brings a nice looking bird like yourself around here?"
"I'm looking for someone," replied a voice that Harry immediately recognized as Cho's. He almost ran down to push Dudley aside, but decided instead to watch what happened. It might be fun.
"Found someone you have, and, might I say, I right pleased you did," Dudley responded.
"I'm looking for Harry Potter, not you."
"What would a girl like you be wanting with that little shrimp when I'm around?" Dudley suddenly had a rare thought and puffed himself up like a circus balloon. "He hasn't been bothering you, has he? If he has, well I'll just show him what's for. I am the junior heavyweight boxing champion of the southwest, you know?"
"Boxing? By that do you mean emptying boxes of biscuits? I'd find that quite easy to believe," she answered smarty.
Dudley stood still and Harry could here the grinding of the neglected gearing inside his thick conk. "...Hey!" he said finally. Harry was surprised; it had only taken Dud about ten seconds to realize he'd been insulted. "I'd watch my tone if I were you."
Harry had heard enough. He said loudly, "Yeah, well she's not you, and I, for one, am quite pleased by it."
"Harry!" Cho called from around Dudley's bulk. "You are there!"
"Oh, don't tell me that you're one of those fre..."
Harry cut in, not allowing him to finish, "I'd watch it if I were you, ya big dud. Cho there IS a witch, and quite a clever one to boot. Not only that, but she is also of age, which means that she can do magic wherever and whenever she pleases."
Dudley looked over his shoulder at Harry grinning at him, and then turned to face Cho again. "But you've still got to keep those things secret, right?" he said with absolutely no certainty.
"But you already know all about magic, don't you?" Cho replied sweetly. "It wouldn't be revealing any secrets at all if I turned you into say... a newt?"
Dudley quickly began to back away from the door with both hands grasping at his buttocks, as if he were remembering when Hagrid had caused a pig's tail to sprout there. Harry laughed at his cousin's predicament. Then he turned to look at Cho and saw that her eyes were bright with amusement as well.
"Are you all right, Harry?" she asked. Harry could only nod.
She took a quick step into the house and looked to be about to hug him when she stopped short. She glanced over her shoulder at Dudley, who had almost made it into the kitchen.
"First things first," Cho said and drew her wand.
Dudley, in what was for him a remarkable flash of insight, took this as a sign he should leave; he turned and pushed open the kitchen door.
Cho pointed her wand at his retreating back and said sternly, "Accio pants!"
Dudley suddenly stood up on his toes as his boxer shorts began to slide out of the top of his trousers. For a moment, it looked like a struggle between whether the pants would go up, or the trousers would go down. Suddenly there was the sharp sound of ripping cloth accompanied by a high-pitched squeal, and Dudley vanished into the kitchen.
"As if he were in any position to call anyone a freak!" Cho said.
Harry looked at Cho; he had never seen such a broad smirk on her face before. "A Wizarding Wedgie?" he asked incredulously.
Cho looked at him evenly and said, "Quite an effective little application of the Summoning Charm, don't you think?"
Harry grinned, "Remind me never to hack you off, Miss Chang."
"Always a good thing to remember," she said as she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Harry, I'm so glad you're all right." She squeezed him hard and Harry didn't mind it, not one little bit. "I was so worried about you. You just collapsed and then no one would tell me anything. I didn't know what to think. They just sent me home."
She released him and stood back. Harry saw tears running down her cheeks and quickly drew out his handkerchief to wipe them away.
"Aw, Cho, there's no need to cry."
Cho snorted a small laugh as she took the handkerchief and finished wiping her face. "C'mon Harry, you ought to know by now that I'm a very emotional person. I'd think you'd be used to it."
"I just don't like to see you sad, and I especially don't want to be the reason you're sad."
Cho rubbed her hand on his chest and said, "But I'm not sad, Harry. I'm relieved. You could never make me sad." Suddenly she blushed and turned away from him. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but it was cut off when Snuffles shoved his head past him and walked into the lounge to get a better look at the two of them.
Cho raised a hand to her mouth in shock. "Is that...?"
Harry nodded. "Cho, let me introduce you to my godfather, Sirius Black, otherwise known as Snuffles."
Cho knelt down and held out her hand. Snuffles came to her and sat. He lifted his paw and placed it carefully into hers.
"Isn't he the sweetest thing," Cho gushed. She released Snuffles' paw and gave him a scratch on the head.
Harry smiled then said, "Let's go outside. It's far too nice a day to spend it cooped up in here."
The park they walked to was filled with children playing while their mothers sat on benches and watched them. Harry and Cho walked along the paths and talked while Snuffles ran ahead and chased the occasional squirrel. Harry told her about his waking up at the Weasleys and how things had straightened themselves out with Ginny and the twins. He also told her that he was worried about how to talk to Ron and Hermione.
"Harry," she explained calmly, "they're both reasonable people, or at least as reasonable as you Gryffindors get. If you just explain things to them, I'm sure they'll understand. If you forgive them for not going with you, I'm sure they'll forgive you for going without them."
"But there's nothing to forgive," Harry said exasperatedly. "For them or for me. They don't have to come along with me everywhere."
"That doesn't matter, Harry. Sometimes, saying your sorry goes a long way towards mending fences. Even if no one's done anything to be sorry about, you can still be sorry for the misunderstanding. And you are sorry about that, right?"
Harry's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It was just so much easier when we were kids. Ron would get hacked, and then he'd get over it and we both knew we were sorry but neither had to say anything."
"What about Hermione?"
Harry thought about the time that everyone had thought that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. Ron and Hermione were furious at each other and neither would say anything. It took Buckbeak's conviction, and Ron's promise to help appeal it, for Hermione to say she was sorry that time. And then, when they found out that she had nothing to be sorry about after all, Ron hadn't apologized to her, Harry hadn't either for that matter. Harry nodded slowly.
"I suppose you're right, as usual." Cho glowed at this. "They both deserve to know that I'm sorry for hurting their feelings at least. But how should I go about it. They're rather quarrelling with each other so who should I talk to first?"
Cho looked at him and said, "What are they quarrelling about?"
Harry shook his head, how could he go about explaining this?
"Well, I think Ron likes Hermione, but I'm pretty sure that Hermione is seeing Viktor Krum."
"Viktor Krum? You mean the Quidditch star who was the Durmstrang champion for the Tri-Wizard Tournament? How did she manage that?"
"Well, you'll recollect that they went to the Yule Ball together that year. And I think Hermione and maybe her folks have visited him in Romania over the summers. And they write all the time."
"So, it's a long-distance relationship?"
"I suppose so. Anyway, I also think that Hermione likes Ron, but I can't figure that out if she is going with Viktor..."
"That's easy, Harry," Cho commented.
"Not to mention that Ginny says that Ron is spending time with Luna Lovegood now."
"You mean Loony Lovegood, the Ravenclaw a couple of years behind?"
"Yeah, and I'd sort of appreciate it if you didn't call her 'Loony'. She did go to the Ministry with me and she did really well. I owe her a lot and she's become kind of a friend."
"OK, Harry, I'll try, but what about her and Ron Weasley?"
"Well, Ginny says that Luna has liked Ron for a long time and that right now Ron wants somebody who wants him, even if he really likes Hermione, and so he's going with her."
"That makes sense," Cho said.
"IT DOES?" Harry exclaimed. "Well, then I wish you'd explain it to me."
Cho sighed. "You blokes can be so dim when it comes to your own emotions. It's a wonder you ever manage to get a girl at all... ANY GIRL." She hooked her arm through Harry's and began to stroll along a pathway. "You see, Ron likes Hermione, but he thinks she doesn't like him. So, he's lonely and needs to be reassured that somebody likes him. So he goes to Luna, who he probably knew liked him all along, and starts to see her. That way he gets his reassurance and if Hermione winds up feeling jealous, so much the better."
"I reckon that makes sense, but what about Hermione? If she likes Ron, then why is she seeing Viktor? Especially since he's so far away and Ron is right there in Gryffindor with her."
Cho thought about this for a moment. "Hermione's a bookworm, isn't she?"
"Bookworm? Nah, Hermione's a major swot, that's what she is."
Cho chuckled. "Then dating a boy, especially one who is right there in the same house, would really cut into her studies, wouldn't it? Even if she really liked him, she might still want to put her studies first and a boyfriend would just get in the way."
"So, she dates Viktor because he's far away and therefore won't get in the way of her schooling," Harry concluded.
"Exactly," Cho said. "See? You can be trained to think like a real person after all, and not just a bloke. Hermione isn't ready for a real relationship yet, but she still doesn't want to feel left out when everyone else is dating. So, she dates someone whom the other girls are jealous of, but still isn't there to intrude."
"So Ron and Hermione do like each other, but neither one wants to say anything about it because they are either afraid of being rejected or afraid of not being rejected?"
Cho nodded, "Full marks for Potter." Harry was shaking his head in dismay. "Don't worry Harry, when they're both ready for a relationship, it will happen. Sometimes things just have to work out in their own time."
"I suppose, but it never seems to happen that way for me." Cho hugged his arm tightly in response.
"So, I still don't know what to do," Harry said a few moments later.
"That's easy, too. If you want to repair your friendship with them, help them repair their friendship with each other."
Harry looked over at her and smiled. "You know that you're brilliant, don't you?"
"But of course," she answered with a grin and then she gave him a
playful shove with her shoulder.
Harry spent the next couple of days trying to work out a plan to get Ron and Hermione talking again, but nothing he thought of seemed the least bit feasible. Finally, he decided that he was a Gryffindor, and not a Ravenclaw, for a reason. The thing to do was to just march straight ahead and do it. So, he headed over to the library and started looking in telephone directories.
The next morning he awoke bright and early, and took Snuffles for a long walk, then Harry hopped on his motorbike and headed off towards Oxford. He stuck mainly to the motorways to save time, flying disillusioned just above the level of the light stanchions, and arrived in Oxford in less than two hours. He had to stop and ask at several local petrol stations before he found someone who could point him to the street he was looking for. The directories in the library at Little Whinging had provided the Granger's address but no accurate local maps.
After he rolled up the drive and climbed off the bike, Harry stretched his back, the muscles aching from his cramped riding position. He hoped that Hermione was at home after his long ride. He draped his helmet over the left side mirror and strode up to the front door. He pressed the bell and waited, glancing over the freshly cut grass and tidy garden in front of the modest home. After a moment, the door cracked open and he saw through the slim opening, the bushy hair and inquiring brown eyes of Hermione Granger.
"You don't have to let me in if you don't want to, but at least open the door and say 'hullo'," Harry said cheerfully.
Hermione held the door open and said, "Hi Harry, what are you doing here?" She looked rather flustered and uncomfortable at his sudden appearance. "What I mean is: I wasn't expecting you; is anything wrong?"
Harry thought for a moment then answered, "Yes, Hermione. There is definitely something wrong, and we need to see to it right away."
Hermione's eyes grew wide with concern. "What is it, Harry? What's wrong?"
Harry reached in and grabbed her by the arm. He pulled her out onto the porch and swung the door closed; taking a moment to make sure it was locked. Hermione struggled a bit in his grasp, but he held firm and reached his other hand into his pocket. His fingers first hit the leather of the fob then the cold metal of the key and they were both whisked away.
Harry tumbled to the floor as they arrived at the Burrow. Hermione reflexively reached down to help him back to his feet. Harry looked up and saw that Hermione was not pleased to be there. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'if she's mad at me she's less likely to stay mad at Ron. That way they can both gang up on me.'
Mrs. Weasley came bustling in at the noise.
"Oh, Harry dear. We weren't expecting you so soon." She stopped abruptly upon seeing Hermione standing next to him. "And Hermione? Is there something going on?"
Harry heard the concern in her voice and immediately moved to quell it. "No, Mrs. Weasley," he said, "nothing's wrong exactly. We just need to talk to Ron for a bit and straighten a few things out."
Mrs. Weasley nodded knowingly and pointed up the stairs. Hermione seemed reluctant to move, but Harry got behind her, before she could really dig in her heels, and shoved her up the steps.
"Harry, slow down," she stammered as Harry continued to push from behind.
"No, we're going to have this out, once and for all," he answered sternly.
At the top of the stairs he bodily turned Hermione and drove her up the final flight of steps to Ron's room. Harry looked fondly at the faded and lopsided sign reading Ronald's Room that hung on the door. Then he remembered that Luna always called Ron Ronald and he hoped that she wasn't in there with him. That was a complication that he didn't need right now. Well, at least he knew Viktor wasn't going to be hiding under Ron's bed. Now THAT would make things complicated!
Not bothering to knock, Harry threw open the door and propelled Hermione inside. Ron was sprawled across the bed, sound asleep, in his boxers. Hermione landed on him with an undignified thump, startling Ron awake.
"Harry!" he exclaimed, bleary eyed. "What the devil are you doing, throwing Hermione at me like that? HERMIONE!" Ron began a mad scramble to find something to cover himself with. Meanwhile, Hermione had her hands up covering her eyes, although Harry noticed a significant gap between a couple of her fingers. He also noticed how Hermione's head would rotate to follow Ron's movements.
Harry reached into Ron's wardrobe and grabbed his dressing gown. Tossing it to his friend, he said, "There! Put that on, or put on trousers, or stand there starkers, I don't care which." Ron fumbled into the gown and hastily tied the frayed sash around his waist.
"Now listen, you two," Harry continued brusquely. "I've got something to say and I'm only going to say it once, so you had better be listening." The two of them just stared with their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open.
Harry took a moment before speaking again. He looked at his two best and oldest friends. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard to get rid of it. He took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry."
Ron closed his mouth with an audible clack. Hermione just looked at him for a moment before launching herself off the bed and wrapping Harry into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry too," she said into his neck. "We never would have let you go alone. We thought that you were going to wait. That's what we agreed on."
Harry disentangled himself from her arms. "No, that's what you agreed on."
"DON'T PARSE WORDS WITH ME, HARRY POTTER," Hermione shouted with such sudden passion that Harry took a step back.
Ron stood next to her. "Yeah, what she said!"
"OK, I see we're going to take a bit to sort this out," Harry said, trying to remain calm. "Ron, why don't you get dressed first?"
Ron absently shrugged off his dressing gown and turned towards his wardrobe to gather some clothes. He suddenly saw Hermione staring at him, beet red, and scrambled to regain his robe.
"Um, do you mind?" he said shocked.
Harry, who thought that if he was going to be on the receiving end of their wrath then he ought to get a little fun out of it too, said, "C'mon Ron, we've shared a dormitory for the last five years. I've seen you get dressed before."
A blush began to cover Ron. It started at the top of his chest and quickly rose up his neck to cover his face, then, moving a bit more slowly, it crept down his chest towards his navel.
"I know YOU have, but she hasn't!" Ron bellowed, pointing at Hermione.
"Aw, Ron, I'm sure Hermione isn't embarrassed, are you?" Hermione remained quite extraordinarily red, although a lot less of it showed on her than on Ron, but still she shook her head no.
"Well, I bloody well am!"
"In that case," Harry replied reasonably, "we'll just take off our clothes, too. To sort of even things up, right Hermione?"
Harry reached down and started undoing his belt. Out of some strange reflex, Hermione unconsciously undid one of the buttons of her shirt, still staring fixedly at Ron, when the full impact of what she was doing struck home.
"I most certainly WILL NOT!"
Throwing her hands over her face, she fled the room. Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. Then, as the sound of Hermione's footfalls reached the ground floor, they both burst into hoots of laughter.
Ten minutes later, the three of them were seated outside at one of the picnic tables. Harry looked again at the two of them and repeated, "I'm sorry."
"Is that all?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked past her shoulder at the house and called out, "You might as well join us, Ginny. What I've got to say goes for you as well as anyone."
From behind the half-closed door, Ginny emerged, her ears pink but her stride determined as she joined them at the table.
Harry waited for her to sit before he continued. "I never really meant to hurt your feelings, any of you," he said. "I want you both to know that I... well, that I think the world of you. You too, Ginny." He looked over at her and she returned his gaze fixedly. "We might not have been friends for as long as Ron, Hermione and I, but you're still a great friend and I never want to lose that."
"But why did you hare off like that, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I thought we were agreed that, even if Sirius could be rescued, it didn't have to be you that did it."
Harry sighed then drew a deep breath. "But you see, Hermione, it did have to be me. No one else could have done it. Who else do we know that can Astral Project? Dumbledore himself, maybe, but we couldn't possibly risk losing him if my idea turned out to be a bust, could we? That leaves me. I needed help of course, but I did have to be the one to do it in the end."
"Just like always," Ron said glumly.
Harry looked at his friend closely, but couldn't make out any signs of any emotion other than regret. "Yeah, it does seem that way sometimes, doesn't it?"
"You know something, Harry? I used to be kind of jealous of you," Ron said softly. "Everybody knew your name and it was always you who got to be the hero."
Harry thought back to the beginning of his fourth year and the Tri-Wizard Tournament, when Ron's jealousy had boiled over. He watched his friend struggle for the words to continue.
"I mean, with the Philosopher's Stone, I got taken out of the game pretty early." Harry wanted to interrupt and point out that Ron had sacrificed himself, not been taken out, and it certainly wasn't early, but somehow he knew that facts didn't really matter right now. "Then when we went down into the chamber after Ginny, there was that rock slide and, again, I got left out of the real action." Ginny reached out and covered her brother's hands with her own. "Then last year, after we won the Quidditch Cup without you, I was the center of attention, and you know what?" Ron smiled wanly. "It felt great!" The smile quickly faded however. "And then came June, and we all went to the Ministry together. I reckoned, for once, we would all be in the thick of it. And we were."
Ron looked up at Harry and the emotions on his face were unreadable. "And that didn't feel so great. Is that what it was like all those other times?"
Harry could only shrug as if to say 'yeah, pretty much'.
"I've never been so scared in all my life," Ron continued. "Playing Quidditch against Slytherin for the Cup would be nothing compared to that. Mate, I don't envy you anymore. In fact, I wouldn't trade places with you for anything in the world."
Hermione gasped, but Harry understood that Ron didn't mean that he wouldn't do it again should the need arise, and he didn't mean that he wouldn't be there for him anymore. He just meant that he now knew that it wasn't fun, and it wasn't glamorous. It was scary, and deadly, and it just plain hurt too much.
Harry raised a hand and grabbed Ron by the back of the neck; Ron returned the gesture and the two friends bent their heads together. Ginny syruptitiously wiped at her eyes.
"But Harry," Hermione interrupted, "why? I mean, why do you want to be in the middle of everything?"
"I don't want to be, 'Mione," Harry said. "I have to be. It's not my choice."
Hermione grew stern. "Firstly, my name is HER-mione, and I'd appreciate it if you'd use it correctly."
Harry grinned. "OK, Her-me-oh-ninny."
Hermione ignored his comment and continued. "Secondly, you still haven't answered my question: why?"
Harry thought about this for a moment before answering, "I really can't say why; it's not my choice. Voldemort singled me out a long time ago and now all I can do is try to deal with it."
Hermione frowned in thought. "Do you mean like the prophecy?" Harry nodded. "But that was destroyed, so we don't know what it said."
"Does that really matter?" Harry asked. "Prophecies don't cause anything to happen, do they? They just describe what happens before it does."
Hermione thought some more then said, "I've been doing some reading on prophecies this summer and from what I've read, trying to avoid or alter a prophecy usually results in its fulfillment." Harry nodded while Ginny and Ron just watched. "So maybe it's a good thing that it was destroyed and we don't know what it said. That way it can't influence our actions." Now it was Harry's turn to frown. Hermione looked at him for a moment before speaking again. "Harry, it was destroyed, wasn't it?"
Harry said nothing for a moment. "That wasn't really the prophecy we had there in the Ministry, you know?"
"What!" the other three said in unnerving unison.
Harry turned his head slowly to take in all three of them. "The prophecy, the real prophecy, was given aloud, before I was even born. It was spoken by a seer and heard by one witness. Well, a part of it, the first part, was heard by a third person, an agent for Voldemort."
"But all those spheres in that Ministry vault?" Hermione asked.
"Those are only the official records of prophecies made, taken from the memories of witnesses. That's what those initials meant: 'S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.'. Those spheres are only the official records of prophecies the Ministry knows about. Who knows how many others have been made but not recorded?"
"Like the one Trelawney made to you at the end of third year," Ron said, "the one where she told about Scabbers returning to him." Harry nodded. "Whoa, that's a lot to think about. How many prophecies have been made that we don't know about? Maybe even directly effecting us?"
Harry shook his head. "Don't waste your time on it. Prophecies are worthless."
"But Harry," Ginny piped in, "they tell us the future."
"No, they don't, Gin," Harry corrected. "They only describe the future. And they do it in such a way that nothing can be understood until it's too late to change it. Just like with Scabbers. If I knew what Trelawney's prophecy meant back then..."
Ron finished for him, "we would have fed that bloody rat to Crookshanks ourselves!"
"But that would have violated the prophecy," Hermione added.
"So, we can only truly understand prophecies after they've come to pass," Ginny reasoned, coming back to the point.
"Which makes them totally worthless," concluded Harry. "At best they're nothing but a distraction."
Hermione looked at him and understanding suddenly dawned in her eyes. "You know what it said, don't you?" Harry just looked at her. "The prophecy, it was made by Sybil Trelawney and witnessed by..."
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Harry finished tonelessly.
Hermione continued, "And so the Ministry record was taken from his memory?" Harry nodded. "Which means that he still remembers it. Which also means that he could have told it to you." Harry tried to keep his expression neutral as he idly scratched his head.
"Well?" Ron asked.
"Well what?" Harry responded.
"WHAT DID IT SAY?" all three answered.
"Nothing." They all just stared at him. "Nothing of any importance and nothing we didn't already know."
"Like what, for example?" Ginny asked sternly, her head cocked slightly to one side.
"Like how Voldemort would come after my family. How my mum's protection would destroy him. And how he would become obsessed with killing me."
"Is that exactly what it said," Hermione asked, "or are you paraphrasing?"
Harry thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and began to speak the words of the prophecy, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
Hermione seemed stunned by the revelation. "But how can you say that means nothing? It says that YOU are the one with the power to defeat Voldemort."
"Yeah, but it doesn't say that I'm the only one, now does it?" Harry looked at their shocked faces. "Listen, I've had a lot of time to think about this over the last two months and the only conclusion I can reach is that the bloody thing is totally worthless! We made that trip to the Department of Mysteries for nothing, and Sirius... he went through the veil for nothing more than my own shortsightedness." Harry hung his head for a minute while none of his friends could think of anything to say. Finally, he just continued on, "It doesn't tell us anything we don't already know. It's all already happened."
Hermione shook her head and spoke, "You mean that everything in the prophecy has already come to pass? Then why was Voldemort so intent on getting a hold of it?"
"Because he only knows a part of it," Harry answered. "His spy only heard the first part of the prophecy and so now Voldemort is obsessed with learning the rest."
"But if it's all moot, why would Dumbledore go to such measures to protect it?" Hermione questioned.
"Right," said Ron, "Voldemort spent an entire year going after you to try to get to that prophecy; why would Dumbledore let him do that if he knew it wasn't worth protecting?"
"You answered your own question, Ron," Harry said. "Voldemort spent an entire year going after me and that bloody worthless prophecy."
"But WHY?"
"Because, during that whole year he was after me, what else was he doing?" Harry asked.
"He was lying low. Feeding you those dreams and trying to use you to get his hands on the prophecy."
"And what wasn't he doing?"
Hermione answered this time, "He wasn't killing people, that's what he wasn't doing. He wasn't trying to destroy the Ministry. He wasn't really doing anything to advance his cause."
Ginny continued, "He gave Dumbledore almost an entire year to rebuild the Order of the Phoenix and to try to convince the Ministry to take action."
Harry nodded his agreement. "Dumbledore bought himself almost an entire year to prepare for war before the first real battle."
Hermione shook her head as if she was refusing to believe this. "But that would mean that for an entire year, Dumbledore used you as..."
"As bait?" Harry spat, bitterness growing in his voice. "As the tethered goat in his tiger trap? As his stalking horse? Without ever telling me what he was doing or why?"
"I refuse to believe that," Hermione stated firmly. "There has to be more to the prophecy, something that needs to be protected." Harry shook his head. Hermione was undeterred. "Let's go over it line by line."
Harry shrugged and repeated the first line of the prophecy, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."
Hermione said simply, "That's you."
"Or Neville," Harry answered, "He was born at the end of July too, but Voldemort chose me." Ginny looked at him quizzically and Harry repeated the next line, "And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal..." Harry tapped a finger against the scar on his forehead. "Voldemort chose me, and by doing so committed the prophecy to me instead of Neville."
"He will have powers the dark lord knows not." Hermione said, her eyebrows going up in a question.
Harry replied, "When he attacked my folks, and my mum sacrificed herself to protect me, she gave me a form of protection that he didn't anticipate so that when he cast the Killing Curse on me, it rebounded and destroyed him instead." Hermione nodded in acceptance.
"And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," Hermione spoke. "Now he's so obsessed with killing you, because he failed to do it before, that he can't get over it and move on, and you... as long as he is alive, you have to spend all your time looking over your shoulder and waiting for him to try to murder you again. No real life for either of you." Her brows knit in thought for a moment. "So, if he learns the whole prophecy and that it has all already come to pass, then maybe he'll leave you alone?" Hermione said hopefully.
Harry looked at her. "Do you really think so... really?" he said. "Say I stroll up to Ole Tom tomorrow and say, 'You know, Tom, I'm tired of this whole 'fighting each other' thing. What say we just agree to leave each other alone and go our separate ways?' Do you really think he'd do it?" Hermione sadly shook her head. "No, he'll just keep coming after me, and he'll keep coming until he finally manages to kill me."
"Or we kill him first," Ginny said with a fierce conviction. Harry looked at her with a wan smile.
"And until that happens, one way or the other, there will be no peace," Harry said sadly.
"And so it does always have to be you," Ron added.
"But it doesn't mean you have to do it alone, Harry," Hermione said.
"One way or another, it usually does," Harry replied. "The people around me, the people I care about, are targets. The closer they are, the more danger they are in. You all came to the Ministry with me and look at what happened. Hermione gets hit with a Severing Hex and spends a week in Hospital; Ginny gets her leg broken..."
"Only my ankle," Ginny said quickly, and Harry glared at her.
"Ron gets attacked by some sort of brain-thing, and Sirius gets..." Harry swallowed hard. "Sirius gets killed. I don't want anybody else to die. Not for me and not in my place."
"But he's not dead, Harry," Ron piped in. "You brought him back; you saved him!"
Harry shook his head sadly, "No, I brought back Snuffles, a dog. Sirius is still stuck somewhere in between. He can't go forward because I have half of him here as Snuffles, and he isn't all here because some of him had already moved on." He looked down at his feet. "I've really buggered things up. That's why, when it comes down to it, I'll meet Voldemort alone. I don't want anyone else to get hurt... or worse, because of me. I won't let you."
"That's our decision to make, Harry," Hermione said firmly. Beside her Ron and Ginny were nodding their agreement.
"Yes," Harry agreed as well. "It's your choice to come, but it's MY choice to ask you in the first place. You don't have to follow me everywhere, and I don't expect you to."
"But you need our help," Ginny said.
Harry looked down again. The others began to think that he wouldn't respond at all when he quietly said, "Yes. Yes, I can't do it alone. I need help. I... I need friends. I need you all."
In a flash, Ginny was beside him and had her arms around his shoulders. "We'll always be there for you, Harry. Always."
"Thanks, Gin. I know that. I know that I can always count on you." Harry swallowed the lump that had returned to his throat. "But there are going to be times when you can't be there. There'll be times when I will have to face things alone."
Hermione then moved across the table and joined Ginny in hugging Harry. Ron came and stood behind them, with a hand on each girl's shoulder.
Hermione said, "But we'll be there, Harry, for just as long as you'll let us."
And Ginny whispered softly, "and a bit further than that."
* * * * *
After that talk, things seemed to return to normal between the foursome and Harry's life resumed the easy pace that he had so enjoyed during the weeks leading up to his birthday. Several mornings each week, Harry would Portkey with Snuffles, who determinedly remained a dog and refused to show any signs of being Sirius, to the Burrow to spend time with the Weasleys and romp in the pasture. Harry even brought his Firebolt some days and slowly began to regain his form after so many months away from flying. In the afternoons, Harry would do chores around the house for his aunt and uncle. A few times each week Cho would stop by and she and Harry would spend the afternoon talking or riding the motorbike. They even went to London for lunch a few times. All in all, it was the best summer of Harry's life. It was almost normal.
Then one morning Harry awoke with actual regret, the calendar above his bed said it was August the 31st, the last day of his summer holiday. He and Cho were going to London for one last lunch and then Harry would begin setting things to right for his return to Hogwarts. There were many things to do and only a short time to do them, so Harry rose and began his day.
Harry wore a pair of cast-off jeans, torn into shorts, and a baggy t-shirt as he mowed the lawn; they were some of the last of Dudley's old things that Harry had. Over the course of the summer he had slowly built up a wardrobe of properly fitting clothes and he didn't intend to take any of these old things away when he left. Snuffles lay in the shade, his head resting on his forepaws and watched as Harry pushed the mower across the grass.
The work became a sort of meditation for him as he felt his mind drift into its pleasantly empty resting state. His abilities to block Voldemort's attacks had continued to improve, or else Voldemort was no longer trying that hard, and the occasional twinges of his scar now caused no more than a minor disruption of his day. Harry looked up, surprised to find that his chore was finished. He turned off the mower and rinsed it clean from the garden hosepipe before he put it away in the back of the garage. Then he swept the walks and drive free of any clippings. Last of all, he watered the shrubs and flowers; Snuffles enjoyed this greatly as Harry doused him as much as anything.
Heading back inside, Harry glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly 9:30. Cho would be there soon and he still needed to get ready. Harry ran upstairs and stripped off his sweaty clothes, tossing them in the rubbish rather than the laundry. After his shower, Harry dressed in black denim jeans, a scarlet jumper, and a pair of black leather motorcycle boots. He smiled fondly at the scuff marks on the extra layer of heavy leather over the right instep, marks left from the shifter and a proud hallmark of how much time he spent riding. At the sound of the doorbell, Harry gave his hair a pointless brush with his fingers and headed down to greet Cho.
Harry opened the door and his greeting died on his lips as he stood there gaping. Cho stood on the threshold, her ears beginning to turn pink as Harry stared. Instead of her usual shorts and jumper, Cho was wearing a snug, black leather mini with a loose white blouse whose sleeves belled around the cuffs. She also wore dark hose and a pair of spike-heeled black boots. Her shimmering black hair fell loose around her shoulders and Harry longed to touch it.
"Harry?" she asked tentatively.
Harry shook himself out of his reverie and answered, "Oh, I'm sorry Cho. I... I was just... You look wonderful."
Cho smiled and thanked him. After Harry had closed the door, she spoke again, "I just figured that since this was out last lunch together, I ought to dress up a bit. Do you think it's all right?"
Harry grinned, "It's ruddy marvelous, that's what it is." Harry thought for a moment. "You think I ought to change?"
Cho shook her head and giggled a bit. "No, you look fine. Where we're going, you'll fit right in."
Harry looked over Cho again and blew out a loud breath. "We might want to rethink taking the bike though."
"Why?"
Harry waved his hand at her outfit and said, "Well, you're not exactly dressed for riding pillion, now are you?"
"Tosh," Cho replied, "I'll be fine. Just let me do something with my hair so the wind doesn't ruin it."
She reached up and began to plait her hair quickly. Harry rolled the bike out of the garage and stood astride it holding her helmet. He still wore a concerned expression as Cho took the helmet and strapped it on.
"What are you looking so worried about?" she asked.
Harry tried to grin. "You're wearing an awfully short skirt," he said uncertainly.
Cho feigned a shocked look. "What, are you worried that I might give some other fellows a bit of a show?" She grinned. "Or are you more worried that you'll miss it?"
Harry didn't know what to say and Cho just laughed. She lightly kicked his foot out of the way and put her right foot on the left footpeg, with a light hop she was sitting behind him sidesaddle and smoothing her skirt as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She noticed Harry watching and said primly, "I won't show anything that I don't intend to. Just have a bit of care and no grandstanding. We don't want to be late for lunch."
Harry shook his head. "I guess this means no wheelies."
Cho grinned widely and replied, "Well, as long as you're not going too fast at the time..."
She wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and he felt the familiar tap of her helmet against the back of his. He dropped the bike into gear and eased off on the way to London.
A little more than an hour later, Cho and Harry, with a cap pulled low over his scar and dark sunglasses concealing his tell-tale green eyes, were walking down Diagon Alley. There were crowds of people milling about, doing last minute shopping. Harry even saw Neville coming out of Flourish and Blotts with his Gran, still wearing her rather tattered fox stole and carrying her huge red handbag. No one seemed to take notice of them however, beyond the young men who turned to watch Cho as she strolled past them. Harry was still surprised that such a small change in his appearance could have such a large impact. People didn't see him as anything more than a scar after all, and without it he was totally unremarkable. Soon, they came to the intersection where Dye Urn Alley branched off from Diagon.
Harry noticed this and asked, "Are we having lunch in Chinatown today?"
"Oh," Cho said innocently, "didn't I tell you? My father wanted to see you again, and so he asked that we have lunch with him."
Harry hadn't seen Cho's father since the beginning of the summer when he started him on learning Occlumency the right way, it would be a pleasure to see him again.
"Good," Harry said, "I'll finally get a chance to thank him for what he taught me that time."
"Well, I'm glad you feel that way," Cho said nervously. "I was afraid that the idea of meeting my whole family might intimidate you."
"Your whole family?" Harry gasped. Cho nodded and tried to ignore Harry's reaction. "But I thought you said it was just your father?"
Cho turned towards him and looked a little chastened. "Well, my father will be there of course, but my Grandmother wanted to meet you, too. And of course my mother had to come, which meant that my sisters had to tag along as well, since they are visiting."
"Your sisters too?" Harry sounded defeated.
"And their husbands," Cho added finally.
Harry was beyond stunned. "How many nieces and nephews?" he asked.
"Oh, none. Neither of my sisters has had any children yet."
"Thank Merlin for small favors," Harry said.
"I know this is a bit of a shock, Harry, and I'm sorry. I was sort of hoping to spend some time alone, but you've met my father. There's no saying no to him."
"Yeah, I suppose."
By this time they were standing outside of a restaurant. The sign was in Chinese, as was the menu posted in the window. The ornate double door was flanked by a pair of statues. They were the images of some sort of animal.
"They're Beijing Lions," Cho explained. "They guard the entrance and protect it from evil spirits."
Harry was staring at one of the statues. The beast was the size of a bear with a massive head and its jaws half open in a fierce grimace. Or was it a grin? Harry looked closely but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't decide which it was. The statues were made of a dark marble and looked almost black. Harry noticed that the thick manes seemed to curl in vast tangles.
Cho noticed his staring and looked at the statues through fresh eyes herself.
"Harry," she asked after a moment's consideration, "do these remind you of anyone?" Harry nodded silently. "Well, they are guardians after all, so it does seem appropriate."
She took Harry's elbow and led him into the restaurant. Harry craned his head around to continue to stare at the statues that so keenly resembled his godfather. She directed him to a large table in the rear of the restaurant. It was circular and seven people were seated there with two seats still empty, on opposite sides of the table. Cho went over to one chair, which Harry pulled out and held for her, and Harry took his place between an older woman and a fellow who appeared to be in his late twenties, neither of whom Harry recognized. He nodded to them as he pulled his seat close to the table. Across the table from him, Harry saw Mr. Chang, seated next to Cho. Harry hastened to remove his cap and sunglasses.
Mr. Chang was the first to speak. "Harry, I would like you to meet my family." He nodded towards the older woman. "This is my mother."
Harry turned and with a shy smile said, "How do you do, ma'am." She seemed to be small although she carried herself with a regal air. Her hair was cut into a style quite similar to his Aunt Petunia's although with more gray and less dye. Harry also noticed that she wore white lace gloves on both her hands. She nodded in return.
Mr. Chang continued, "And this is my wife."
"Mrs. Chang," Harry said and watched as she gave him an appraising look over.
"And these," Mr. Chang indicated the two younger couples seated at the tables, "are my other two daughters and their husbands." Harry turned to greet them and noticed the women's eyes locking onto his scar. It made him feel uneasy, as it usually did when people did this. He smiled and turned back to Mr. Chang.
Cho spoke up. "My brothers-in-law operate a very successful business trading goods between Hong Kong and Taipei, Taiwan. One lives in each city and each manages that end of the business." Harry turned to smile at the two couples and noticed that the women had puffed up slightly with their younger sister's words.
A waitress appeared with several platters of food. She placed them onto a large Lazy Susan that rested in the center of the table. Several pots of tea were also there and the turntable began to spin back and forth as people rotated it to get the dishes they wanted. Harry was amazed at how simple and useful the arrangement was. Instead of passing platters of hot food up and down the table, or reaching across your dinner companions to get to something, you simply spun the large tray until what you sought was right there in front of you. He also noticed that Cho made sure to serve her father before taking anything herself. Likewise, her sisters each served their husbands. Mrs. Chang took care of her mother-in-law. Harry examined the food as it passed before him. There was a poached fish that he didn't recognize. Surprising since the head and scales were still there, but then Harry wasn't much of a fisherman. There was also a platter of some sort of poultry that he assumed was duck. Several dishes of rice, both white and fired. And two types of soup. The soup was thinner than he was used to, almost a broth.
Seeing that Harry hadn't taken anything to eat yet, Mr. Chang spoke up. "Is something wrong, Harry? Don't you see anything you like?"
"Oh no, sir," Harry replied. "It all looks wonderful. I just wanted to see what was there before I began."
A dish of pork and broccoli came past and Harry spooned some onto his plate. He glanced at the other people at the table and noticed that each had a large bowl of white rice in front of them and several small portions of the other dishes on their plates. They would take up a small bit of food and place it in the bowl of rice and then scoop up both rice and meat and eat it. Harry also noticed that they were all using chop sticks. Harry had never tried to eat this way before. Sure, the Dursley's would eat Chinese take-away on occasion but all Harry ever had were the leftovers that Dudley hadn't gotten too, and he had always used a fork for those.
Gamely, Harry served himself a dish of rice and then removed the pair of chop sticks from their paper sleeve and snapped them apart. He looked around the table but everyone was eating so easily and quickly that Harry couldn't quite see how they were doing it. Across the table Cho stopped and caught his eye. Her cheeks were pink and she was struggling mightily to hide a huge grin at the sight of his predicament. Mr. Chang waved at a passing waitress and in a moment Harry had a fork and spoon resting beside his plate. Harry looked at them, then at the chop sticks. He quickly decided that he wasn't going to let a pair of pencils get the better of him and returned to trying to control the chop sticks.
He looked over at Cho again and noticed that she had set down her own pair. She carefully picked up one and placed it over the web of her thumb, holding it in place with her third finger. She then picked up the second stick and held it like a quill. She moved this against the fixed one like a sort of pincer and picked up a small bit of fish and brought it to her mouth. Harry tried to imitate her and soon was ready to give it a go. He seized a bit of pork and tried to get it to his mouth. Halfway there, his finger slipped and the morsel dropped into his lap. Harry hoped that no one noticed, but the stifled snickering coming from one of Cho's sisters told him that wasn't the case. He felt his cheeks begin to heat. Across the table, Cho again caught his eye. She took her chopsticks and pressed them against her plate so that her fingers slid down them; instead of gripping them at the very end, she was holding them in the center. Harry tried this and found he could better control them this way. Again, grabbing a bit of meat, Harry managed to get it into his mouth this time. Feeling vindicated, he looked up and saw smiles on the faces of all five of the women at the table. The men studiously ignored him.
A platter of dumplings came and replaced the now decimated fish. Harry had a much easier time with these as they were larger and he could simply jab them with the chop sticks rather than trying to grasp them. He quickly got the hang of things and by the time the meal began to wind down, he was almost able to feed himself.
Pudding was a platter of pressed rice balls filled with a paste of what Cho said was red bean curd. They weren't nearly sweet enough to please Dudley, or Ron for that matter, but Harry found them rather pleasant. He was chewing on his third when Cho's grandmother said something to her in Chinese and Cho giggled. Harry threw her a questioning look.
Cho swallowed the last of her laughter and said, "My Grandmother says that it is no wonder you are so thin, but given a little more practice you should be able to eat like a civilized person."
Harry grinned in a mix of pleasure and embarrassment and responded
to the elderly woman, "Thank you... I think." Cho translated and she
nodded to him with a smile.
"Bu ke chi," she said.
Harry noticed that her tea cup was empty so he picked up a pot and refilled it. The old woman watched him with sudden and intense concentration as he did so. When Harry set the pot back on the table she reached out with one gloved hand and grasped his right hand firmly. Before he realized what was happening, she had turned the back of his hand towards her. Thanks to the sun that Harry had gotten that summer, the words the white scars formed across the back of his hand stood out in sharp relief. Harry felt his cheeks burn for a moment, only to have the feeling replaced with a cold anger as the woman chattered at her son in Chinese. Harry tried to pull his hand back but the old woman's grip was surprisingly strong and she held him fast. Now Cho was involved in the discussion and Harry could tell that things were becoming tense.
As soon as he had the chance, Harry wrenched his hand from her grasp. She looked at him sharply and Harry said through clenched teeth, "I am NOT a liar."
Madam Chang turned again and spoke with her son. Mr. Chang turned to Harry and said calmly, "Harry, no one here thinks that you are." The sudden snorts from Cho's sisters and the angry look that she shot them in response told him differently.
Mr. Chang continued, "Harry, I know you think that Ms. Umbridge and Minister Fudge are the worst possible examples of government, but let me assure you, when it comes to attempting to control and manipulate the truth, they are mere amateurs compared to the regime that currently controls my country."
Harry looked back at him, not able to loosen the grip his anger had over him. Madam Chang spoke again to her son, more curtly this time, and he replied. He was obviously reluctant to do as she said, but he finally acquiesced.
"Harry," he began, obviously struggling over how to phrase things, "in my country, they have what are called Re-education Camps. These are places where those who refuse to follow what the government says is the truth are sent to be taught obedience." He paused and Madam Chang quickly spoke again. He responded to her and she back. He shook his head in refusal at first but as his mother began to remove the lace gloves she wore, he continued, "The black quill is only one of their methods." The old woman held her hands out to Harry and he took them. Across the backs were carved several lines of Chinese characters. Harry's eyes grew wide with shock and sudden understanding. Where Harry's scars were thin white lines against his skin, these were deep, black and obviously carved over a far longer period than just a few weeks of detention. Several of her fingernails were also missing. Harry looked up into the old woman's eyes and saw a depth of understanding there that even Dumbledore couldn't achieve. She had trod his path and she had gone further along it than he had yet to travel.
Mr. Chang took a deep breath and spoke again. "When my mother was finally released from one of these camps, I decided that it was time to leave my homeland." He looked at his mother with a deep respect and love then said, "As you can tell, Harry, strong-willed women tend to run in my family." From the corner of his eye Harry again saw Cho's two sisters swell with pride at their father's comments. Cho had her eyes cast down at her plate and did not see her father looking at her.
Harry looked back at the Grandmother and she returned his gaze steadily. "Would you like to know what they say?" she asked in only slightly accented English.
Harry thought for a moment then answered, "No, it doesn't matter what they say. I can see the truth." Then he bent his head and gently kissed the scarred backs of the old woman's hands.
As Harry raised his head, she reached up and cupped his cheek. Her skin was rough, from a lifetime of manual labor, but her touch was gentle. She then grasped both of his hands in hers and turned them over to examine his palms. She was silent for a moment then spoke to her son in rapid Chinese. Before he could reply, she rose from the table and headed towards the door. Mr. Chang spoke quickly to Cho then went after her, the rest of his family following behind. The two men, whose names Harry had never been told, held their heads together in conversation while their wives did the same, two steps behind them.
Cho took Harry by the arm and began to walk him out. Harry looked at her, confused. "What happened? Did I do something wrong?"
"Oh no, Harry. Grandmother just decided that the meal was over."
Harry's brows knit. "Just like that?"
"She does that sometimes. My sisters think it's a sign of senility."
Harry thought about the old woman's eyes, her body might be aged but there was nothing like senility in those eyes. "I think your sisters are in for quite a surprise one of these days." Cho nodded with a smile. "Shouldn't we pay for the meal?" he asked.
"Don't worry about it, Harry," she replied deadpan. "My family owns this restaurant."
When they had gotten back out onto the street, Harry said, "Cho, what did she say to your father? Was it about me?"
Cho's voice grew solemn. "My Grandmother isn't a Seer, but she is good at some kinds of Divination, like reading palms. She said that you had traveled a long journey, but that you had farther to go still before you could rest." Cho was silent for a minute then spoke again, her tone light and happy once more. "You know, Harry, I think my Grandmother kind of likes you."
Harry tilted his head. "How so?"
"She's given you a Chinese name, Shao Long. It means: the little dragon."
"And that's good?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry, that's very good. The dragon is more than just a symbol of good luck in China; it is a symbol of justice and the power of righteousness. When the gods come down to earth to combat evil, they ride on the backs of dragons."
Harry hesitated. "Yeah, well I'm sure that she gave Michael just as nice a name."
Cho snorted. "Oh, Michael hasn't met my family. He's exactly the type of European boy my father would like me to date. Grandmother would never bother giving him a Chinese name." Cho became thoughtful for a moment. "You know something, Harry? Until today, I'd never heard the story of why my father decided to leave China."
"Your Grandmother is quite an impressive woman."
"Yes, she is, isn't she?"
Together they strolled along Diagon Alley, looking in windows and casually discussing how to spend their time as they idled it away. The sun was warm and the crowds gay as the afternoon wore on. As they turned away from Quality Quidditch Supplies and were about to head to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, Cho drew up sharply and stared across the way. Harry turned to see what she was looking at and saw Michael Corner leaning against a lamp-post chatting with some friends. He recognized some of them from the DA last year and was about to call out to them when Cho grabbed his arm and hurried him away.
Cho was mumbling under her breath. Harry could only make out a portion of it, "...didn't tell me he'd gotten back..."
"Don't you want to go over and say 'hullo'?" he asked.
"No," Cho said firmly, "he said that he'd owl me as soon as he got back."
"Where's he been?"
She looked intently at a tattered sign posted on the wall beside her. "Michael's family takes a holiday every summer. He said he would be out of touch and that he'd send me an owl as soon as they returned."
"Well, maybe he just got back? You've likely got an owl waiting for you on your windowsill right now."
"Maybe," she said looking unconvinced, "but he's here hanging about, isn't he?"
"Well," Harry reasoned, "it is the last day of the holidays. If he just got back then he would have to be here to get all his things for tomorrow, right?"
"Maybe," Cho said again.
"Well, why don't you just go and say 'hi'; I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."
Cho thought for a second. "No, if he does still need to buy all his things then I wouldn't want to hold him up. Tomorrow on the train... then we can talk."
Harry shook his head in confusion. He did that an awful lot around women, he'd noticed. Cho, meanwhile, was heading off towards The Leaky Cauldron at a good pace and Harry had to hurry to catch up.
They were quickly outside in Muggle London and standing beside the motorbike. Harry began to unhook the helmets while Cho took out her wand and, with a wave, transfigured her skirt into a pair of jeans and her blouse into a chambray work shirt. Her boots became riding boots like Harry's as she slipped her wand up her sleeve for safekeeping.
Tightening the chin strap of her helmet she said, "Why don't we go for one last ride, hmm?"
Harry flew them disillusioned until they were outside of London and on an empty stretch of road where he could set the bike down unseen. Then they began to tear along headed west. The wind wiped around their helmets and tugged at their sleeves Cho held on fiercely through every maneuver Harry did. Finally needing a break, Harry snapped into a rest area. They headed towards a parking stall at far too great a speed. Suddenly, Harry grabbed a handful of the front brake. The nose of the bike dove down under the added weight as Harry held the brakes just short of lock-up. The rear wheel lightened and then rose up into the air. The bike was rolling along on only the front tire when Harry suddenly shifted his weight and the bike pirouetted around. The rear wheel came down with a thud and Harry then applied the rear brake as well bringing them to a stop. Cho saw that they were sitting perfectly inside one of the stalls, pointed back out the way they came.
They climbed off the bike and when they had removed their helmets, Harry saw that Cho was grinning from ear to ear. He opened his mouth to say something when she threw her arms around his neck and laughed with unbridled joy.
"That was just ABSOLUTELY MARVELOUS!" she fairly screamed in his ear.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Harry said, hugging her back. "It's the first time I've ever done that with a passenger."
"The FIRST?" she squawked. She swung her arm at him and the helmet she was holding batted him in the shoulder. "You're completely mad, you know that?"
"Barking," he replied with a grin.
They walked over to a series of vending machines and Harry bought them both bottles of fashionable water. Harry downed his in a couple of swallows but Cho just sipped hers.
"So, any idea where we're headed?" Cho asked.
"Well," Harry answered, "I've arranged to store the bike at the Burrow while I'm at school. I just thought we'd run it over there and then Portkey back to Surrey. You don't mind, do you?"
Cho thought for a moment, her lower lip caught between her lips. "It's getting a bit late anyway," she said finally. "Maybe I'd best just Apparate home. You can go on by yourself."
Harry looked at her sadly. "But why, Cho? I thought we were having a good time."
She smiled just as sadly. "We were, Harry. It's just that I'd rather not have to deal with Ginny Weasley right now."
"Aw, c'mon Cho, I know Ginny has been acting a bit odd about you but it's just that... Well, I don't know why she acts that way actually, but I do know that it's not your fault and it shouldn't be your problem. We won't stay long. I'll just put the bike up in their shed and then we'll head out."
"No, Harry," Cho said, shaking her head. "I think it's best if I just go home now. I've... I've still got a lot of packing to do... and things."
Harry suddenly remembered that she, most likely, had an owl waiting for her as well. "Oh, OK then," Harry mumbled. "I guess I'll see you on the train then."
Cho looked down at the grass-lined verge. "Yeah, or at school."
Harry just nodded. Cho stepped away but before she could pop out Harry stopped her.
"Cho!" he called.
"What is it, Harry?"
Harry suddenly was at a loss for words but he also knew that he had to say this. "Well, it's just that... You see..." Harry swallowed hard and tried again, "I just want to say thank you."
"For what?"
"Well, you see, this has been probably the best summer of my life and it's all down to you, and I just wanted to thank you for it."
"Oh Harry," she said returning to his side, "I ought to be the one thanking you. You've given me so much help. I don't think I would have made it through this summer at all without you. I mean, if it hadn't been for our talks, I'd probably be locked away in an asylum by now. Either that or I'd be on a boat to China for my last year of school and then an arranged marriage, like my sisters."
"Your sisters?" Harry managed to say.
"Oh, you remember my saying that I was supposed to be sent to school back in China, don't you?" Harry nodded. "Well, my sisters were."
"And their marriages were arranged?"
"Well, not arranged, per say, but after they finished school, they were fixed up with a couple of fellows who worked in my father's shipping business."
"I thought you said your family owned that restaurant?"
"Harry, my father does a lot of things. So, even though it wasn't formally arranged, they were encouraged to see people that my father had selected. My brothers-in-law got their current positions as sort of their dowries."
"So they don't run their company?"
"Yes, they run it, but my father owns it. I suppose that they'll inherit that portion of the business from my father's will. I know they certainly expect to."
Harry was shaking his head again and could only manage to mumble, "Curious."
"Anyways, Harry," Cho began again, "not only did you give me a wonderful summer, but you also helped more than I can ever say. I really ought to be thanking you."
Harry blushed and was about to say something else when Cho quickly leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Harry," she said. "I'll see you back at Hogwarts." With a *crack* she was gone before Harry could even say good-bye.
* * * * *
Harry had arranged for a Muggle taxi to take him to Kings Cross so that he didn't have to bother the Dursleys. In truth, Harry was quite excited about getting away from Privet Drive and doing it in Uncle Vernon's company car would only spoil the moment for him. The cab showed up at exactly 9:00 in the morning on Saturday, September the first.
Harry bumped his heavy trunk down the stairs by himself, as the Dursleys lingered over breakfast. No one said a word to him and no one lifted a finger to help until the driver gave him a hand lifting the case into the boot of the car. Next Harry carried out Hedwig's cage and the driver gave Harry a bit of a cross look when Snuffles bounded into the back seat along with the owl.
"Not to worry," Harry said, soundling as chipper as he could. "They're both quite well trained and won't cause any bother." The driver looked as if he doubted this very much.
Harry returned to the smallest bedroom of number 4, Privet Drive one last time. He wanted to make sure that he left nothing behind because he wasn't planning on ever coming back. He checked the wardrobe, his dresser. Both were empty, as was the battered desk. He looked over the pile of Dudley's broken toys that still occupied a significant amount of space in the room. Well, in a few minutes they could occupy all of it, for all Harry cared. Finally, he got down on his knees and crawled under the bed to lift the loose floorboard to make sure that his hiding space was empty. It was, not even a crust from one of Mrs. Weasley's much welcomed meat pies was there.
Hefting his school bag onto his shoulder, he gave the room one last look. He knew he wouldn't feel sad, but somehow he was surprised to find that he didn't feel the least bit nostalgic, or anything for that matter. He had never belonged here and he didn't even want the memories of it that he was taking with him. He shut the door behind him and turned one of the several locks that were still mounted on the door.
At last, he turned towards the stairs and was surprised to see Dudley standing there, waiting. He thought the last Dursley who would want to say good-bye to him would be Dudders. He stopped to look at his cousin and was completely taken off-guard by the uppercut that rammed like a sledgehammer into his solar plexus. All the air in his lungs rushed out with a whooping sound as Harry doubled over. It felt as if his lungs had been turned inside out and Harry struggled against the cramping pain to try to bring air into them again. He slumped slightly forward and right into the path of the overhand right that Dudley brought down against his temple. Harry heard his glasses crack and felt them fly off of his face and onto the floor. Dudley shifted his feet and stepped directly onto them, ensuring their destruction. He grabbed Harry by the hair and twisted his head around roughly. Harry could feel Dudley's breath and taste the sugary sweet cereal that Dud ate for breakfast on it.
"Don't think anything has changed, Cousin," he slurred. "You're still nothing but a worthless freak."
With that, Dudley shoved him towards the stairs and it was only luck that let Harry grab onto the railing and prevent himself from falling all the way down them. Harry scrambled to gather up the shattered remains of his new glasses and staggered down the steps and out into the hall. The only sound he heard was Dudley sniggering as he went to reclaim his second bedroom again.
"'Ere now," the driver exclaimed when Harry collapsed into the back seat of the cab, "you're 'urt. Maybe you ought to go back inside and see t' that before we get under way."
Harry just shook his head. What more appropriate way to leave the Dursleys then bleeding and a bit the worse for wear, just like he had come fifteen years ago? "Just drive," Harry said to him. "I;ve got a train to catch."
Harry's cab pulled up at the entrance to Kings Cross Station. Harry went to fetch a trolley while the driver hauled his things from the boot. With little trouble it was all loaded on and Harry paid the driver. He included an overly large tip, as he didn't think that he'd have much use for the muggle money he still had in his pockets. The black cab pulled away as Harry opened his trunk and dug out his old pair of glasses. Able to see clearly once again, Harry pushed his load through the automatic doors and towards the platforms, followed closely by Snuffles.
The station seemed its usual harried self, even on a Saturday. There were crowds of people rushing here and there, all trying to get someplace quickly. But that was why they were all here, wasn't it? To get to someplace else. Harry thought for a moment about where he was going. Hogwarts to be sure, but where would he go after that, if there was an 'after that' to go to?
Most of the crowd was muggle but now and again Harry could make out a Wizarding family leading one or more children off towards the barrier between Platforms 9 & 10. He casually pushed his own trolley in the same direction. He was earlier than usual. Well truth be told, he was usually running late whenever he caught the Hogwarts Express, and today he was merely on time. He pushed through the barrier and onto Platform 9 and ¾. The scarlet locomotive gleamed in the morning sunlight and clouds of steam billowed around the drive wheels. He gazed at the shining metal leviathan with all the emotion that he had lacked at Privet Drive. Here, at last, was something that he wanted to see, and a journey to a destination he wanted to go to. Even with all his problems, it was more o a home than Surrey had ever been. Harry trundled his trolley along the long line of cars, looking for an empty compartment, when he heard familiar voices behind him. He turned and saw Neville and his Gran walking along.
He had seen Neville once this summer, during one of his and Cho's excursions into Diagon Alley, but he had been too busy not being noticed to notice the change in his friend. Instead of being led along the platform by his grandmother, Neville was leading her. He stood tall and carried his head high. She toddled along behind him, with that great, ugly, red bag clutched to her bosom like it held the Queen's jewels. Harry waved cheerily.
"Wotcher, Neville," he called. "You have a good summer?"
"Hello, Harry." Neville called back. "Yeah, it was pretty fair, I must say. How about you? You sure look different!" The two shook hands and at a slight 'hrumph' from behind Neville spoke again. "Harry, I'd like you to meet my grandmother. Gran, this is my friend, Harry Potter."
"It's a pleasure, ma'am," Harry said, "but we have met before, although under less pleasant circumstances. It was last Christmas... at St. Mungo's."
"Yes," the stately older woman responded, "you were visiting a relative, I believe?"
"Actually, ma'am, our other friends were. It was Mr. Arthur Weasley, he had been injured... at work, and I was visiting him with his family."
"Ah, yes, so I've heard."
Harry cleared his throat a bit. "Actually, Neville, I'm glad I ran into you and your grandmother here today. I want to apologize for getting you into trouble last June."
"Tut, tut, my boy," Mrs. Longbottom interrupted. "There is no need for an apology. Neville told me all about what happened." Harry shot Neville an inquiring look and Neville smiled and waggled his hand in a 'so-so' gesture that told Harry that Neville hadn't told his Gran everything. "Neville has always been a brave lad," she continued. "He takes after his father in that way. Always ready to stand up and fight the good fight. Isn't that right, Neville?"
"Yes, Gran," Neville answered with a grin.
"Well, I have to admit that it was a great relief, having Neville there," Harry went on. "He really saved my bacon a few times." The old woman nodded serenely, as if this were the expected norm for her grandson. "I'm sorry he was hurt and broke his wand and all. But even then, he never backed down. Even when Bellatrix was cursing him, he never gave an inch."
"Bellatrix, did you say?" the old woman seemed shocked and Neville's eyes grew wide. Evidently this was something that he hadn't told her, but now that the professor was out of the bag, Harry reckoned he might as well tell her how brave Neville really had been.
"Yes, Bellatrix LeStrange." Harry had a hard time saying the name without swearing and he watched as Mrs. Longbottom's eyes grew wide with shock. "She was after us in particular and, when I tripped and fell, Neville stood right up to her and covered me. She cast the Cruciatus on him, until someone was able to jinx her and break it off."
The old woman gripped her bag even tighter, her cheeks growing pale even under her blusher and Harry began to wonder at the wisdom of his words. "Is this true, Neville?" she asked shakily. He nodded, his face held stiff with pride and determination. "Why didn't you tell me this?"
"I didn't want to upset you, Gran. You know how you get 'bothered' by things sometimes."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, wanting to change the subject. "But he did just great! He was a real Gryffindor. Saved my skin there, I can tell you," he repeated.
"Of course, he's a Gryffindor," Mrs. Longbottom said with stiff pride, her eyes shining a bit too brightly. "As I said before, just like his father. Now if you'll excuse us, Mister Potter, I'd like to say farewell to my grandson."
Harry nodded and moved along. He turned to give Neville an apologetic look for causing him even more trouble but, when he did, he saw a sight that made him grin instead. Mrs. Longbottom, for all her stiff-upper-lip demeanor, had Neville wrapped in a tight hug and Harry could see a tear running down her wrinkled cheek.
Grinning still, Harry continued down the platform. With his face turned back towards Neville and his Gran, Harry wasn't looking where he was going and his trolley rammed into something. Harry turned quickly, an apology on his lips. A trio of familiar red-heads caught his eye a second before Ron saw him and called out, "Hey there, Harry! I wanted to run into you, but not literally."
Harry and Ron bent and gathered the fallen parcels from the crashed carts. They stood and shook hands.
"All set for another year at school, Harry?" Ginny asked him brightly. She was already in her school robes and her new Prefect's badge gleamed with fresh polish. Harry wondered for a moment if she had polished it or perhaps her mum had done it out of sheer pride. "Well, don't just stand there gawping or I may be forced to give you a detention," she chided him with a smirk.
Before Harry could reply, Mrs. Weasley strode up to him and reached out to give one of her trademark hugs. She stopped suddenly when she noticed the bruise that had formed on Harry's cheek. "What on earth happened here?" she admonished, as if Harry had hit himself or something.
"Well," Harry stuttered weakly, "I sort of tripped and fell down the steps leaving the Dursleys."
Molly gave him an appraising look. "Tripped down the stairs, did you? And smacked the side of your head?" Her eyes told Harry that she had already raised quite a few rough and tumble boys and he had better not try to pull any funny business with her. She wanted nothing less than the full truth.
"Well... yeah," Harry stammered.
"Why didn't you clean yourself up before you left then?" Harry was fixed with a stare that would have done a Scotland Yard Inspector proud.
"Well..." Harry's mind was speeding to formulate an excuse as he absently wiped at the blood on his jumper. "I had called a muggle taxi to take me to the station and it was already waiting. I was just taking one last look around to make sure I hadn't left anything behind... I'm never going back there, you recall?" Harry knew he had hit on the right thing to say because Molly's eyes suddenly misted over as she went from interrogation mode to overprotective mum in the space of a heartbeat. "Well, the driver must have been in a hurry because he honked his horn just as I was on the stairs and I sort of tripped." Molly whipped out her wand and was busily working on the bruise as Harry continued to explain. "I knew Aunt Petunia wouldn't care about my getting hurt and so I just rushed here as quick as I could... because I knew you'd be here." Well, Molly immediately engulfed him in a hug and began to pat his back and coo soothingly into his hair. Over her shoulder Harry spied Ginny as she gave him an impressed sort of nod and mouthed 'good story' to him silently.
Mrs. Weasley quickly released Harry and told him, "That's as good as I can do now; the bruise had already started so you'll need some Reducing Salve on it to heal properly. So make sure you go and see Madam Pomprey just as soon as the train gets to school." She waggled a finger at him as she finished, "I'll be sending her an owl as soon as I get home so you'd best do as I say."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said nodding his head in supplication.
"Well, you lot had best go and find yourselves a compartment or you won't be able to sit together." Molly turned and gave each of them a last bone-crushing hug before turning and leaving them to it.
Ginny swatted Harry on the arm and said approvingly, "Good job, you handled her like a real Weasley."
"I learned from the best," he answered lightly but he was a bit uncertain himself of how he had handled the situation.
Ginny looked at him and asked, "So, what really happened?"
Harry was about to answer when he spotted another group of students further down the platform. It was Michael Corner and his mates. As he watched, Cho walked over. Michael leaned down to kiss her. Cho's head was turned to greet the others so he kissed her on the cheek. Harry swallowed and rubbed his hand through his hair.
Ginny looked from Harry's expression to Cho and Michael and said sadly, "I guess the summer's over, huh?"
Harry thrust his hands into his pockets and answered sadly, "Yeah, I guess it is."
Ginny reached out and gently placed her hand on Harry's elbow. "It's not like it's a surprise or anything. She was seeing the both of you all summer," she said softly.
Harry shrugged her hand off. "Let me ask you a question, Ginny? How long were you and Michael going out?"
"Just about a year," she said getting a bit hot. Why was he snapping at her? She was only trying to point out the truth. "So, I ought to know him a bit."
"Yeah, you ought to. So, you were going out over last summer holidays, right?" She nodded. "And I reckon you spent a lot of time together?"
"Well no," she said, confused. "We were locked up in Grimmauld Place and Michael and his family go off on holiday every... summer." She stopped and thought about this. She continue just as sure of herself as before, "But that didn't matter, we were still seeing each other, we just couldn't see each other for awhile."
"And so, if something happened, if you had a problem you needed help with, then Michael wouldn't have been there for you, would he?" Ginny shook her head. "Well, if it had, and he wasn't, then I'd sure want you to have a friend that you could talk things over with, just to listen and be there for you."
Harry looked down at the determined face of the youngest Weasley. She returned his gaze steadily. "Yeah, but what about you?"
"Maybe I was talking about me."
Harry turned quickly to continue making his way down the length of the train, trying to find an empty compartment for himself, knowing that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny would be in the first car with the rest of the Prefects. He finally found one, as usual, in the last car of the long train. He wrestled his trunk into the overhead rack and put Hedwig on one of the seats. Snuffles clamored in and, after following his tail around in a circle a few times, settled himself on the floor. Harry took the seat opposite Hedwig and stretched his legs out over Snuffles. With no one to talk to, Harry dug the old Apparition guide out of his school bag and began to read as the whistle sounded and the train began its long journey.
Harry tried to concentrate on what he was reading, but no matter how hard he tried his thoughts kept going back to all the stupid things he had done that day. Like letting Dum-dum Duddeykins get one over on him. What had he been thinking? He should have known that the big dud wasn't there for any good purpose. Now his new glasses were smashed and one of his new jumpers had blood stains on the front. The thing with Neville had turned out for the good but that was just luck. And Mrs. Weasley... why in heaven's name did he have to go and act like a ruddy idiot in front of her for? He should have just told her that he fell down and that was it. Why did he have to whinge like some horrid little brat? So what if it tricked her, he didn't need to do that. Harry rammed his fist into the seat cushion, startling both Snuffles and Hedwig. This year was starting out just going right into the loo. If he wasn't careful, he'd wind up spending all his time in a certain girl's lavatory sharing misery with Moaning Myrtle.
"Well, that's just not going to happen," Harry said aloud to himself with determination. "I'll just not permit it!"
All right, so the summer was over. So what if Cho was back to seeing Michael Corner? That didn't change anything. He had had a great summer and nothing now could take that away from him. He knew it was going to end at the station and so it's no big surprise. He wasn't going to let it drag him down, back to the way things were. It was his life and he was in charge of it. If he didn't like the way it was heading then he would just have to change directions himself.
And the only way to change things was to just go ahead and change them, so Harry pulled his trunk down and opened it. First he pulled out a clean jumper and swapped it for his soiled one - the House-elves ought to have no trouble getting rid of the stain on it after all. Next, he pulled out the remains of his broken glasses. Spreading the crushed frame and bits of glass out on top of his trunk he drew his wand and waved it over the debris, "Reparo." The frames came together neatly, and the glass bits melded together inside the wire rims. Unfortunately, Harry saw that there were still several gaps in the lenses. Evidently in his haste, he hadn't managed to get all the pieces of glass up off the floor.
"Blast," Harry growled to himself, "there's that idea right down the loo!"
"Oh, there's still a way to set things right," came a dreamy sounding voice from behind him.
Harry spun around, his wand still in his hand. It was Luna. Harry relaxed immediately and greeted her.
"Having a spot of trouble with your specs?" she asked.
"You could say that," Harry answered. "I broke them back at my aunt's and couldn't use magic to repair them then." He looked down at the incomplete glasses resting on his trunk. "I thought I had all the pieces but I suppose I missed some."
"Not a problem," Luna said casually and she reached out and plucked Harry's old specs from his nose and set them down on the trunk next to his new set. She waved her wand and muttered a switching charm. In an instant the good lenses were in his new frames and the still broken ones had moved to his old. "Now you can wear the new glasses and owl the old ones off to an optometrist to be repaired," she finished. Harry grinned as he placed his new glasses back where they belonged.
"Thanks, Luna," he said. "You're a real life-saver. It's kind of handy having a Ravenclaw around at times."
Luna just smiled her usual enigmatic smile and sat one of the seats across from him. She stuck her wand behind her ear and pulled a copy of The Quibbler from her robes and began to flip through the pages. Harry noted with amusement that the magazine was again upside down. Or else he was.
"So, did you have a good summer?" Harry asked.
"Oh, it was fine," she answered dreamily.
"Did you find any Crumple-horned Snorkacks on your trip to Sweden?" he continued, trying to start a genuine conversation.
"Even better," Luna said, "we didn't see anything of them at all."
Harry looked at her puzzled, "How can that be better than finding them?"
"Well, we didn't find a single shred of evidence to prove that they don't exist, did we?"
"But you didn't find any to prove that they do, either."
"Yes, and so the search goes on. Isn't life so much more interesting when it is filled with questions rather than answers?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. He thought for a moment and decided that there was just no response to some things.
Some time later, the sound of the compartment door opening snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He had returned to reading the Apparation manual. He looked towards Luna, who still sat with her Quibbler, and they both turned towards the door. Draco Malfoy stood there, leaning in studied casualness against the frame; in the shadows behind him Harry could make out the silhouettes of his two pets, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy had his usual smirk plastered on his face and his Prefect's badge gleamed in the lantern light. Harry noticed, however, that his robes didn't look quite as absolutely brand-new as they usually did. They were still of much higher quality than his own of course, but somehow not quite up to Malfoy's usual standards.
Draco opened his mouth to speak and Harry was bracing himself for whatever comment he would make when Snuffles let out a low rumble from his place on the floor. Draco, evidently, hadn't seen the dog lying there, for at the sound his mouth snapped closed and he stepped away from the door jamb.
"I... I thought... But my father told me...," he managed to stammer.
"Oh, come now, Draco, speak up," Harry said, trying his best to imitate Draco's snide drawl. "Your daddy told you what?"
"He... He's dead," was all the response Draco could manage, pointing his finger shakily down at Snuffles.
"He is?" Harry said and raised his eyebrows in shock. "Well, maybe you ought to tell him that then? He certainly doesn't seem to want to hear anything of the sort from me."
"It's some sort of trick," Draco said, regaining some small portion of his self-control.
Snuffles got to his feet, his great bulk seeming to fill the small compartment. Draco unconsciously took a step back into the corridor.
"Really, Draco," Harry drawled oily, "I would have thought, given all the other things that your father is, that the idea that he was also a liar would be quite easy for you to swallow?"
Draco glowered at the idea of someone like Potter speaking of his father in such a way. He took a step closer again, his hand reaching under his robes for his wand. Snuffles curled his lips back, revealing a set of teeth the size of basilisk fangs. Draco stopped instantly.
"Don't think this is over, Potter," he snarled, reaching at the same time for the door latch.
Harry was formulating a reply when Malfoy slammed the compartment door closed again. Harry looked over at Luna, who was returning his gaze in her normally abnormal fashion.
"So, Harry," she said as if the thought had just occurred to her, "will you be starting up the D.A. again this year?"
Harry blinked a few times, trying to shift mental gears to this new topic. "No," he said eventually, "I hardly think that it will be necessary. After all, we only did it last year because of Umbridge and this year's teacher could hardly be as bad as her."
"Do you know who the new teacher is?" she asked in response. Harry shook his head. Luna nodded and then went back to her magazine.
"Luna?" Harry said causing her to look up at him again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You seem capable of it," she answered.
Harry grinned, she was starting to sound a bit like Dumbledore, and then said, "Are you and Ron seeing each other?"
Luna looked to Harry's right, as if gazing at a person who should be sitting next to him. She blinked her wide eyes and said, "I'm seeing him, but sometimes I wonder if he is seeing me or someone else."
Harry was about to continue when the door to the compartment again slid open. His question stalled in his throat as he saw Cho standing in the door way. She was in her Hogwarts robes but her hair was mussed and she looked rather flustered. Harry tried hard to think of some other reason for her to look so dishelved as she looked quickly around the compartment.
"Drat! She's not here! Where is she hiding?" she said to no one in particular.
"Um, hello Cho," Harry managed. "Can I help you with something?"
"Where's Ginny?" Cho asked without preamble. "I need to speak with her. Have you seen her?"
"Well, no, not since we left London. I reckon she's up in the Prefect's car."
"No," Cho replied, "I've already been up there. She was there for the meeting then left." She pushed a hand up through her hair, causing a few more strands to stick out from the rest. "I've been all the way down the train looking for her. I need to speak with her NOW!" She turned and seemed to recognize Luna for the first time. "Oh, hi there Loo... Luna." Luna nodded in response. "Have you seen her?"
"Seen who?"
"Ginny, Ginny Weasley," Cho said with exasperation. "I need to find her and I can't." Luna just shook her head.
"Cho," Harry said quietly, trying to calm the girl down before she became really distraught, "she has to be on the train somewhere. Maybe she was just in the loo or something." Cho nodded as if considering this. "If she's not with the other Prefects then she's most likely sitting with Dean Thomas as they're dating."
Cho's eyes lit up at this. "Yes, they are, aren't they?" She half turned to go back out the door then turned sharply back to Harry. "And don't you go off anywhere! You sit right there until I get back. Once I have a little chat with Miss Ginny Weasley then I'm going to want to have one with you, as well." With that, she went back onto the corridor and shut the door behind her.
Harry looked at Luna, who returned her gaze calmly. "And they call me 'Loony'?"
The rest of the trip passed in comparative calm. Harry tried to read his book but he kept looking at the door, as if expecting someone to come through. Neither Ron nor Hermione came to call, but he assumed that they were busy with their Prefect duties, whatever they were. He finally gave up and stowed his book away and just sat watching the Scottish countryside go past the window. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and the reflection of the door in the glass shined into his eyes.
Finally reaching the Hogsmeade station, everyone began to pile out of the train. Harry held back for a few minutes waiting for something but then shrugged and joined the crowds moving towards the carriages. Up ahead, Harry saw Ginny and Hermione climb into a carriage and pushed through the crowds to join them, curious as to what happened with Cho. He reached the carriage and was about to grab the door handle when their voices reached his ears.
"... just barged right in without so much as a by-your-leave and starts right in! Can you believe it?"
"But what did she say?"
"Some rot about how she was a fair person and would give me a chance. Imagine it, I'm practically sitting in Dean's lap and she's ranting about giving me a fair chance!"
"Whatever did you say to her?"
Harry didn't stay around to hear what Ginny had replied. He decided that he had best just find himself another carriage.
After a few minutes, Harry wound up in a carriage with Ron, Luna, and Neville, with Snuffles curled up on the floor. They bounced their way into Hogwarts; the jolting causing an uneasy feeling in Harry's stomach. At least he told himself it was the ride that caused it.
Harry followed the tide of students into the Great Hall. Ginny and Hermione were already there and seated at the Gryffindor table when Ron and Harry took seats opposite them. Snuffles crawled under the table and began to sniff around for dropped morsels. Harry looked tentatively at the two girls and they both raised their eyebrows at him, as if asking what he was looking at. Nervously, Harry began to look around the Hall.
As always, the ceiling above them reflected the sky outside. Tonight there were high clouds obscuring most of the stars and no moon was visible. With a tinge of guilt, Harry realized that he didn't remember what phase the moon was in, or how close to full it was. He thought of Remus Lupin and wondered where his old professo was tonight. Sure, he was still angry with him for all that had happened, but still, the man was the last of the Marauders and Harry didn't like the idea of his being alone.
Harry turned his attention towards the staff table to chase his gloomy thoughts away; most of the teachers were already seated. Professor McGonagall was presently carrying the Sorting Hat, with its rickety stool - Harry wondered for a moment if the stool was as old as the hat itself - up to the front of the room. Hagrid came in through a half-concealed door and took his customary seat at the end of the table. Harry gave him a cheery wave and Hagrid returned it with a tilt of his huge goblet as he took a long drink. The seat next to Hagrid was empty. That was where the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ought to be sitting, Harry thought. He asked around the table, but no one knew who the new teacher was. Hermione said that she hoped that it would be Professor Lupin again and Harry agreed, even given their current problems, but felt that it was unlikely with Fudge still serving as Minister.
Professor McGonagall strode back to the rear of the hall to bring in the line of new first years. Harry craned his neck to try to get a good look at them. He noticed Ginny and Hermione's eyes go wide and look at something over his shoulder. Harry quickly turned in his seat to see what it was, maybe the new professor had shown up. Instead of seeing a new face up at the staff table, Harry came eye to eye with an embroidered raven on the patch of a set of Hogwarts' robes... Ravenclaw robes to be more precise... Cho Chang's Ravenclaw robes to be quite exact.
Harry shifted his eyes upwards to look at the girls face, she had combed her hair and it hung in its usual shimmering fall over her shoulders. She smiled at him slightly and cleared her throat.
"Hmm, hi Cho," Harry managed to say.
Cho responded to this by hiking up her robes a bit and sitting on Harry's lap. She was facing him with one knee on either side of his hips. She smile had become quite cheeky.
"Harry Potter," she said in a mock stern voice, "do you have a girlfriend?"
"Huh?" was all that Harry could manage to say. His mind was racing a mile a minute but it also seemed to be going in a tight cirdle and not getting anywhere.
"I asked, Harry, if you were currently seeing anyone socially?" she repeated.
"Uh, no?"
Cho's smile widened as she continued, "Well, by an amazing set of circumstances, I also happen to find myself sans beau and I was wondering if you could think of a mutually beneficial solution to our common dilemma?"
"Wha?" Harry said; too bewildered to form a complete word much less a coherent sentence.
Cho's smile broadened yet again as she spoke to him slowly and clearly, as if she were speaking to a small child or... a boy. "I'm asking, since neither one of us is currently seeing anyone, if you would like us to start seeing each other?"
Harry's mouth worked soundlessly, and as he remained silent Cho's smile began to falter.
"Well, Harry, what will it be? This offer isn't going to remain open forever," she said, her smile now brittle and forced.
"But..." Harry tried. He looked around the room half-panicked, and nowhere he looked could he find his answer. He looked at her almost fearfully. "But the summer's over?" he said in a quiet voice.
Something broke within Cho and her face fell. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at all the Gryffindors staring at her. She couldn't look any of them in the eye and her gaze fell to her hands as they smoothed her robes over her thighs.
"I'm... I'm sorry," she managed to say as she stood up. "I thought you... I didn't realize..." Cho swallowed hard, fighting to maintain her composure. "I'm sorry for disturbing you." She turned and began to walk quickly away from them.
Harry continued to stare into space in utter confusion. He realized that Cho was no longer sitting on his lap but comprehension of what had just happened was still missing. He turned back to the others at the table. Everyone was ogling at him as if he had just kissed Snape... on the mouth. His head swiveled back and forth as if it was no longer under any control. At last he gave a loud yelp and stared down under the table. Snuffles had grabbed a mouthful of the seat of his trousers and bitten down hard. Harry's eyes suddenly focused as he took in the shocked faces of those around him and the rapidly retreating back of Cho Chang. He leapt from his seat and raced to catch up with her.
He caught her directly in from of the staff table and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. He could see the tracks of tears on her face and it wrenched his heart to know that this time he had put them there.
"Cho," he began haltingly, "back there... did you?"
Her face grew hard with embarrassment and anger. "You know perfectly well what I did. I made a fool of myself!"
"No... No, you didn't. I just..." He pointed back at where he had been sitting. "I thought..." Harry pointed at her and then at the Ravenclaw table.
Now it was Cho's turn to be confused. "What on earth are you babbling about?" she said tersely
"I thought that you were... and he was..." He pointed some more, his head still shaking in misbelief. "Aren't you?"
Cho followed his finger to see where he was pointing. Michael Corner was sitting there scowling at them both. Cho's anger came back in full measure now and she turned back to Harry and shook her head fiercely.
"You mean you're not?" He asked in total confusion.
"Not anymore."
"But you were?"
"Not anymore," she enunciated slowly and firmly.
"No?" Harry said as if he could hardly believe it. His state of pure confusion began to clear a little as it was replaced by something he knew all too little of: hope.
Cho's anger vanished as Harry's face changed and her expression began to soften. She shook her head and repeated, more gently this time, "No."
"But you wanted... You said... He was..." Harry struggled to find words. "Safe."
Cho looked up into his eyes, her own soft and kind. "Well, maybe I thought about it some more and reckoned: what's the point of seeing someone if you really don't care if they're there with you or not?"
"But I thought... You said that... I was..."
Cho was now smiling up at him with just a hint of mischief in her eyes and she said, "Well, after spending my summer hanging about with the most Gryffindor of Gryffindors, I suppose I've developed a bit of a taste for danger."
"You have?" Harry asked, gaping at her again.
"Yes, I have," she nodded.
"And you want...?" Harry asked incredulously and pointed at his own chest.
"Yes, I do." She laughed a bit. "Who knows, maybe I can even manage to add a few more firsts to my list of personal accomplishments?" she said with a saucy tilt to her head.
Harry stretched to look over her shoulder and down at her bum. "I dunno," he said with a glint in his own eye, "it doesn't look like there's much more room left back there. I don't think anything else would fit."
She swatted his arm, remembering their conversation from early July, and replied, "Not to worry; I'll just start doubling up on my puddings in the evening and there'll soon be plenty of extra room." She smiled shyly up at him. "So?"
"So?" Harry returned.
"Do you?" she said, a bit of her previous apprehension returning to her voice.
Harry nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
Cho took a step towards him and Harry took her in his arms. He lifted her to him and kissed her for all he was worth. Cho's arms went around his neck and the rest of the world disappeared. Neither one of them heard the whistles and catcalls that swelled up from around the Great Hall. They didn't hear Harry's friends cheering from the Gryffindor table, or the hisses from Slytherin. They also didn't hear Professor McGonagall clearing her throat.
"Hemm... Excuse me...," she began with a trace of discomfort in her voice. "Excuse me, Mister Potter. Mister Potter! HARRY POTTER!"
Harry and Cho broke their kiss as the Deputy Headmistress shouted in their ears. Their cheeks bloomed crimson as the hall broke out in laughter at their predicament. Harry saw tiny Professor Flitwick, seated on his pile of cushions at the head table, struggling to hide the wide grin he wore as he wagged his finger at them. From the corner of his vision, he saw Cho blushing as she bobbed a quick curtsy to her head of house and scampered off to her seat. And standing right before him, Harry saw Professor McGonagall, as tight-lipped as he had ever seen her, staring daggers at him from a distance of about three feet.
"Mister Potter! That will be 10 points from Gryffindor for your deplorable lack of decorum!" she snapped.
Harry stared at her. "What? 10 points? For one kiss?"
"Yes, Mister Potter," McGonagall replied with a snarl, "10 points for one kiss."
He felt anger building up within him. 10 points! It was as if he wasn't allowed to have anything for himself. All summer he had fought to try to make some kind of a life for himself and now that he was back at school they were doing their best to take it away from him again. His arms began to shake with fury as he looked over at the Gryffindor table, expecting to see accusation and reproach from his housemates. Instead, he saw them cheering. Hermione was wearing the broadest grin he had ever seen on her. Ron was giving him an enthusiastic double thumbs-up. Lavender and Parvati were practically swooning in their seats, and Dean, Seamus, and Neville were standing on their chairs clapping. As suddenly as it came, his anger vanished. He turned back to Professor McGonagall wearing a wide grin of his own.
"Sounds like a bargain to me!" he said as he dashed off to the Ravenclaw table and proceeded to lose another 10 points.
Back at the Gryffindor table, Dean, Neville, and Seamus were climbing off of their chairs and sitting again, talking nonstop. Hermione turned to Ginny and was surprised to see that her friend was as sour and tight-lipped as McGonagall.
"Ginny," Hermione asked, concerned, "what's wrong?"
"This is not going to end well," the younger girl said.
"Oh come on, Ginny, you're not jealous, are you?"
Ginny harrumphed in response. "You know I gave up on that git over a year ago. I am not jealous."
"Then what's the problem? Can't you be happy for him, even if it is with Cho?"
"That's just the point. It is with Cho. You know her, and you know Harry. Harry wouldn't know an honest emotion if it bit him on the arse. He's got no experience with them, and she has gone through more boys in the last few years than Lav and Parvati put together. This just isn't going to end well."
Hermione sat still and considered her friend's words. "What are you saying, Ginny?"
"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're a clever girl. Can't you tell how this is all going to work out? He's going to fall absolutely head over heels for her, and then one day she's going to get bored and dump him like last years fashions."
"But he seems so happy now, isn't that something?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, he's giddy with it all now, but that is only going to make it that much harder on him when she finally does it." Ginny shook her head sadly. "She's going to break his heart... and then I'll have to kill her."
Hermione's eyes went wide at the seriousness Ginny put into her words. "You can't mean that. Sure you don't like her, but that's... that's just... Well, I don't know what it is but it's barmy."
"She's going to hurt him, Hermione," Ginny said, her words beginning to catch in her throat. "You know it and I know it. I'm supposed to protect him, but I can't protect him from this."
Hermione's hands fell into her lap. "Ginny, really! I know you like Harry, we all do, and we don't want to see him get hurt, but you have to be reasonable."
Ginny's eyes lit with an inner fire. "NO! I don't have to be reasonable. You may want to protect him but... but I have to," she said so earnestly that Hermione had to take a breath to deal with it.
"You have to?"
"Harry saved my life," Ginny tried to explain. "I owe him a debt that I have to repay."
"Come on now, Ginny. In a way, we all owe Harry our lives. After what happened when he was a baby, and then again with the Philosopher's Stone, you could say that we all owe him that, in a manner of speaking."
"Well, I'm not speaking in generalities," Ginny snapped. "When I went into the Chamber that last time, when Riddle was going to kill me to come back to life. Harry came and saved me." Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Ginny cut her off. "When he went down into that pit, he didn't go to fight Tom Riddle, and he didn't go to save the whole bloody world. He went to save me, a silly little girl with a silly little crush." Ginny wiped savagely at her eyes, as if her anger could take away her shame. "A twelve year-old boy went down into hell for me, and he barely knew my name. A skinny little orphan fought and killed a 60 foot Basilisk for me.
"Then, with poison running through his veins, he fought and destroyed Tom's ghost. And then, when it was all over, when I was alive and he was just waiting to die, do you know what he said?" Hermione just shook her head, not knowing any words that would suffice. "He told me to go and find Ron; that my brother would get me out of there. He was dying! He didn't whinge, he didn't cry, and he didn't ask for help. He was relieved. He looked almost glad that it was all going to be over. He told me to leave him there. He told me to just leave him there alone to die and save myself." Again she wiped at the tears that threatened to spill down her face. "And I would have done it. If Fawkes hadn't shown up and saved Harry, I would have just left him there. I was so frightened, I would have run away. Some Gryffindor I am." Hermione reached out to her friend but Ginny pulled away. "But no more! I owe him my life, and if I have to die to repay that debt then that's what I'll do! Because if I don't, how can I ever be seen as his equal?"
"Oh, Ginny, I'm sure that Harry doesn't see you as any less..."
"That's how I see myself!" Ginny spat. "If I'm not willing to sacrifice as much as he did, if I'm not willing to die to save him the way he was willing to die to save me, how can I ever think of myself as worthy of what he did for me?"
Hermione just sat there. For the first time in her life, she could think of nothing to say. Next to her, Ginny saw that further discussion was pointless. She pasted a broad grin into place and raised a hand to her brow in a mock swoon and fell against the boy sitting on her other side.
"Oh Dean, sweetie," she said breathlessly, "will you come to Azkaban to visit me after they take me away?"
Dean snapped his head around from his discussion with Seamus and looked at her questioningly. "What did you say? Why would you be sent to Azkaban? Are you planning to try to cheat on your OWLs?"
Ginny shot him her false grin and said, "Do you think that'll be necessary?"
Dean grinned back and said, "Hush, Harry's coming back. Budge up and make room; I want to hear about this!"
Harry was indeed trotting back to the table but Ron, sitting on the opposite side, waved him over and made room for him there. He sat with his cheeks aflame with embarrassment and a huge, but genuine, grin all over his face. Ginny turned and looked over her shoulder at the Ravenclaw table. Cho was sitting there, just as red as Harry, with her head bent in whispered conversation with the girls around her. Ron leaned over to Harry and said something about how, since he got two such great kisses, he ought to be willing to share one with his mates. Harry laughed and Ginny had to admit it was a richer and more open laugh than she had heard from him in god-knows-how-long. He was about to reply when Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the noise throughout the hall.
"Now, if we are quite ready," she said, giving all of the students a withering glare as if daring one of them to put so much as a toe out of line, "we can begin this year's Sorting." She drew a roll of parchment from the table behind her and opened it. Scanning the first name on the list, she called out in a loud and clear voice, "Ima Nayhole!"
The stern Professor looked out at the excited and somewhat frightened faces of the gathered new students. None of them stepped forward. The professor cleared her throat and called again.
"Ima Nayhole!" Still no response, except for a low buzzing that was building across the tables. "Can anyone here see Ima Nayhole?"
Seamus leaned over to Dean and whispered, "I think I'm beginning to get the hint." Dean smothered his snickers in his sleeve.
Nonplussed, McGonagall consulted her list again and moved on to the next name. "Chuck Wagon! Where is Chuck Wagon?"
This time it was Dean who spoke, "I reckon it's waiting for the Sorting to be finished, like the rest of us." There were scattered giggles spreading across the various tables.
Again Professor McGonagall read a name from her list, "Richard Hertz." The firsties just stood there like so many chipmunks caught crossing a road. The usually stern Deputy tried to look non-threatening and genial. She stooped down towards the children, to get closer to their level, and said as gently as she could, "Come now, children, who's little Dickie Hertz?"
Dean nearly burst when one of the fourth year boys said, "If I tell her mine does, do you think she'll kiss it and make it better?" Ron looked totally flummoxed when a nearly choking Harry leaned over and whispered in his ear. Ron's ears went red and he appeared to be about to have a heart attack. All across the Great Hall, muggle-born and muggle-raised students were whispering to their pure-blooded mates and snickers, giggles and all out guffaws were starting to erupt. Hermione looked absolutely outraged, but Ginny sat there innocently as if she were just mildly curious as to why none of the new students would come forward when their names were called. Harry noticed this and shot her a questioning look that she returned unblinkingly.
Professor McGonagall was now calling for "Uri Nation". "I wish to see Uri Nation up here right this instant!"
It was obvious that Professor McGonagall was starting to become annoyed that none of the children were stepping forward to be sorted. She looked at her list again and called out the next name, "Michael Hunt!"
No one said a word. The firsties stood there in shock and no one at any of the tables dared to so much as breathe. McGonagall looked around, thoroughly exasperated and shouted out, "HAS ANYONE HERE SEEN MI... oh dear."
Her face flamed bright red to match the Gryffindor kerchief she was wearing and her lips disappeared into an almost nonexistent line. She turned on her heel and stormed back to the head table. As if on cue, the hall erupted into chaos. People were rolling on the floor in laughter. The new students seemed to all be thinking that they had made a drastic mistake by choosing to come to Hogwarts at all.
Seated at the center of the Head Table, Dumbledore gazed serenely down at his approaching deputy with his eyes twinkling brightly. For her part, McGonagall didn't even seem to notice when the parchment she was holding burst into flame and turned to dust in her hand. Harry blanched; she had to be really furious to trigger that sort of accidental magic at her age and ability. He watched as the Headmaster mouthed 'Is anything wrong, Minerva dear?"
For her part, McGonagall just threw the ashes she was carrying onto the table and grabbed the other roll of parchment that was laying there. She unrolled it and Harry watched her lips moving as she read through each name several times, as if testing it. Finally satisfied, she returned to the new students and the Sorting finally got underway.
After feast was over and Dumbledore completed his customary opening announcements - the Forbidden Forest was still forbidden and Filch had banned the entire catalog of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes - the now exhausted students were released to go to their dormitories. Harry was struggling through the crowd, trying to reach Cho to say 'good night', when an extremely angry looking Professor McGonagall stopped him.
"Mister Potter," she said through clenched jaws, "would you happen to know anything about this evening's incident?"
Harry held his hands up in front of him in surrender. "I swear, Professor, I had nothing to do with that and I had no idea it was going to happen."
"If you didn't, Potter," came the greasy voice of the Potions Master from behind him, "then you most assuredly know who did it."
Harry turned to face him. "I don't know who did it, Professor," he spat back. "I might have some suspicions, but we all know that suspicions aren't sufficient justification for making accusations, don't we?"
Snape held Harry's gaze momentarily than, with a swirl of his robes, he turned and stalked away. After going about ten feet, he stumbled and would have fallen flat on his face if some Hufflepuffs hadn't had the misfortune of being directly in his path so that he could grab onto them for support. He turned on Harry like a snake.
"Hexing a teacher now, Potter?" he snarled.
"I did no such thing, just because you're clumsy..."
Snape fired back, "I know a Tripping Jinx when I see one, Potter!"
"Oh yeah? I'd bet you're quite familiar with them, I would. But rest assured, if I had wanted to trip you it would have been down a whole flight of steps." Snape grew even paler than usual at this. "Maybe we'd all get lucky and you'd break your greasy neck!"
"Potter..." Snape began threateningly.
McGonagall interrupted them, "Now Severus, I was looking right at Mister Potter when you stumbled and I can assure you that he had nothing to do with it."
Harry and Snape just glared at each other. Snape spoke, "That's a detention for you Potter." Harry balked. "For talking back to a member of the staff. Tomorrow night at seven." With this he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Great Hall.
Harry swung a kick at the dais that held the staff table and stomped out after him. In the hallway, he almost ran over Ginny Weasley who was standing in his way.
"Harry?" she opened hesitantly.
"What?" Harry snapped then he thought a moment. "I'm sorry Ginny; it's just that Snape gets me so angry sometimes."
"I know Harry. That's sort of why I wanted to speak to you. I wanted to say I'm sorry for the detention."
"Why?" Harry said stunned.
"Well...," Ginny began, "I'm sort of the one who tripped Snape there in the hall. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get in trouble, he was just being such a git..."
"What else is new?" Harry injected.
"...I just wanted to get back at him for you. If you want, I'll serve the detention with you... or I could tell him that I did it, then I would be the one he blamed," she offered.
Harry grinned ruefully back at her. "Naw, just forget it, Ginny. It's not like I'm going to go anyway."
"What!" Ginny said shocked. "You're going to try to skive off a detention?"
Harry answered as calmly as if he were discussing the weather, "Not try to, I'm going to. I didn't deserve that detention and so I'm not going to serve it. I served enough detentions I didn't deserve last year. I'm not doing it again."
"But Snape'll..."
"Snape'll what?" Harry said with a sardonic smile. "Do you really
think he could treat me any worse than he already does?" With that he
led their way back to Gryffindor Tower and to bed.
The
next
morning, a Sunday, Ron Weasley was awakened by the sound of his own
stomach
grumbling. He rubbed a sleepy hand
across his eyes and tried to focus as he spoke.
There
was no
response from Harry’s bed and Ron looked over to see that it was empty.
“Hey! Where’s Harry gone?” he asked his other
roommates.
Seamus
shook
his head sleepily and answered, “Maybe he’s in the loo.”
Dean
was slightly
more awake than his mate. “Or else he
got up early to go down to the Ravenclaw dorms and snog Cho some more. I know if I got kissed like that...”
“Twice!”
Neville chimed in.
“...last
night
I’d certainly be looking for more today.”
Ron
nodded his
head for a moment and then suddenly scowled.
“But that’s never happened,
has it?” he said, sounding as menacing as anyone could while wearing
pajamas with
little broomsticks flying around on them.
Dean gulped once but said nothing.
Dean
was, in
fact, correct and at that moment Harry Potter was sitting in an alcove
watching
the hallway the Ravenclaws always came out of when they came to meals. He didn’t know exactly where their common
room was located but he supposed it ought to be down this hallway.
He
had been
waiting about half an hour when he heard a group of people coming. He stood and backed into the shadows to try
to keep hidden. He watched as a large
group of students, mostly first and second years, came past him on
their way to
breakfast. ‘Maybe Cho is going to sleep
in today?’ Harry thought to himself.
‘Maybe she won’t be coming past at all?’
But at that moment he heard another group of students approach. An unfamiliar voice, probably one of the
Prefects, was warning the new firsties that if they had any questions
in
Potions they should never ask them in class as it only annoyed
Professor
Snape. Instead, he told them to write
their questions down and ask some of the older students in the common
room. That way they would get their
answers
and the house wouldn’t lose any points.
Harry
pulled
back into the shadows again as the group passed. Suddenly,
there she was. Harry recognized her rich
black hair bobbing
between the heads of some of her dorm mates.
As she went past him he stepped out of and called softly, “Cho?”
She
turned
around immediately and, when she saw it was Harry, her face lit with a
broad
smile. Waving her friends to continue on,
she walked back to him.
“G’morning
Harry,” she said quietly. “What are you
doing here?”
Harry
blushed
with embarrassment. “I’m sorry; I didn’t
mean to interrupt anything.”
She
put a hand
on his arm to shush him. “What did you
want?” she said gently.
Harry
hung his
head and shook it in embarrassment.
“It’s just that, after last night, I sort of wanted to see you
again, just
to make sure.”
“Make
sure of
what?” she asked him.
Harry
looked
into her eyes, hesitating to voice his uncertainty.
“Make sure that I didn’t dream it all.”
Cho
flushed
prettily and answered, “Well, if you did than I had the same dream, and
I’m not
sure I want to wake up from it.”
“Yeah,
me
too.”
Cho
looped her
arm through his and said, “Come on, you can walk me to breakfast.”
Together
they
walked to the Great Hall. Harry took her
to her usual seat at the Ravenclaw table.
He was about to leave to join the Gryffindors when one of Cho’s
friends
piped up, “Aren’t you going to snog her senseless again, Harry?”
Harry
looked
around and answered with a glint in his eye, “I’m more than willing but
remember, McGonagall and Flitwick agreed that the next time the points
will be
docked from Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor.”
He
leaned down
to kiss Cho when several giggling girls began to push him away. “Oh no you don’t,” one said, “we thought we
had a sure way to keep Gryffindor out of the running for the house cup
this
year, but I suppose we’ll just have to think of something else.”
“Well,
wait
just a sec,” Cho called. She stood again
and gave Harry a quick buss on the cheek.
“I think I’m willing to risk a 1-point kiss, at least.”
Harry
grinned
and turned away. Suddenly, he turned
back again. “Cho, fancy going for a walk
around the lake with me later?” He
looked up at the bright blue sky shining through the enchanted ceiling. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
“As
beautiful
as Cho?” one of the girls asked teasingly.
Cho blushed deeply and swatted her friend’s shoulder.
Harry
blushed
too. “Not hardly,” he whispered.
Cho
looked at
him and answered his original question, “Sure, meet you at the doors at
about
10.”
Harry
nodded
and headed over to his own housemates.
*
* * * *
The
late
summer sun shone brightly on their shoulders and a warm breeze stirred
their
hair as the young couple strolled down to the lake.
Harry took in a deep breath and looked up at
a large vee of migrating geese winging their way overhead.
He reached out and tentatively took the hand
of his companion. Cho gripped his
fingers tightly in return. They were both
smiling as they looked anywhere but at each other.
“Funny,
isn’t
it?” Cho asked after a few minutes.
“What’s
funny?” Harry answered.
Cho
bit her
lip for a moment before replying, “This.
Us. I’m actually a bit
nervous.” Harry looked over at her and
tilted his head in a question. “It just
strikes me as funny that we have been walking together all summer, and
even
holding hands, but now it’s just so different and I’m actually a bit
nervous.”
Harry
smiled
at her. “Yeah, I know what you
mean. What do you think makes this
different?”
“Well,
I
suppose that this summer we were just friends and we both knew it. There were boundaries and so we knew what to
expect. We knew where we were going.”
Harry
looked
down at her and said teasingly, “Well, I know exactly where we are
going now.”
Cho
looked
back at him with a hint of apprehension in her eyes.
“And where might that be?”
“Around
the
lake, silly!” he said before giving her a playful shove and taking off
at a
sprint. Cho huffed and then, laughing,
took off in pursuit.
On
the far
side of the lake, they sat in the tall grass and let the sun warm their
faces. In front of them, across the
glittering
surface of the lake, stood Hogwarts castle, standing tall against the
sky, its
spires and towers pointing at the clouds drifting past.
Harry could make out the windows of the
Owlery and occasionally the shadow of one of its occupants would flit
past it
as a bird came or went. He was amazed
that a single train ride could take him so far away from
“Cho?”
he
asked and Cho answered with a small grin.
“Would you mind if I… well, if I kissed you again?”
She
rose up
onto an elbow and said, “You don’t have to ask, you know.
If you want to kiss me then just do it. I’m
not going to object.”
“You
sure?”
Harry answered tentatively. “I mean, I
don’t want to seem too pushy or anything.
I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to take advantage…” Cho silenced him by placing her lips softly
over his. A few minutes later, she
rolled back into the grass and Harry lay smiling up at the sky. After a few more minutes of easy quiet, he
sat up again and looked down at Cho’s deep brown eyes.
He seemed as if he wanted to say something
but didn’t know how.
“What
is it,
Harry?” she asked him to break the logjam.
“I know you want to say something.”
“It’s
just…”
he began and then stopped to pull several tufts of grass from the sod
beneath
him. Releasing them into the breeze, he
watched their shadows dancing across the ground. “I’m
just not any good at this relationship
stuff,” he said at last. Cho sat up and
took his hands in hers. “I mean, you
know, you’re the first girl I’ve really gone out with.
The first one I’ve kissed. I’ve not
done any of this before and you’ve
gone out with tons of blokes.”
Cho’s
eyes
grew hard. “Harry, are you implying that
I’m some sort of tramp?”
Harry’s
jaw
fell in his shock. “NO!
I’m not saying that at all!” He
shook his head in frustration and
collapsed back onto the grass. “That’s
just what I mean. I’m no good at
this. I don’t know how to talk to girls,
how to sweet-talk them. I’m hopeless.”
Cho
swallowed
her initial reaction, knowing that it was just clumsiness and not
malice. “Harry, you don’t have to
sweet-talk me to
get me to like you. I already do and I
know how sweet you are. And I haven’t
really gone out with that many boys.”
“I
know that
but you have gone out before.”
“Well,
you
took a date to the Yule Ball, remember?
So, you have gone out with other girls.”
Harry
snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a
date. Parvati and I walked into the Ball
together
and sat at the same table, but I doubt anyone would call that a date. Especially her.”
“You
did dance
with her,” Cho pointed out.
“Yeah,
but
only the first song and that only because McGonagall said I had to. After that, I spent the whole night sitting
on my rump with Ron and acting like a complete twit.
Parvati wound up dancing with that lot of
fellows from Beauxbatons.”
“At
least she
had a good time,” Cho said, trying to lighten the mood.
Harry
thought
about this for a moment. “You know
something?” he said seriously. “I hope
she did. I suppose I really ought to
apologize to her or something for being such a rotten date.”
“I
think that
would be nice,” Cho said with a smile, “just don’t go and ask if you
can make it
up to her next Hogsmeade visit. You’re
mine now!”
“I
reckon
that’s really my point,” Harry continued.
“I don’t know any more now about how to be a good boyfriend than
I knew
then. I don’t want to mess this up, not
after the way things went between us last year.”
“I
don’t want
to mess things up either, Harry. I was
just as much to blame for the mess we made of things as you were.”
“Yeah,
but you
have an excuse. I was just a prat. And I don’t want to be a prat anymore. I want to be a good boyfriend, the kind you
deserve,” Harry said quietly.
Cho
suddenly
flushed and caught him into a tight embrace.
“You are a good boyfriend,” she whispered in his ear. She released him and smoothed the front of
her robes. “You just need a little
polishing to be a perfect Knight-in-Shining-Armor, that’s all. And it’s not like I can write books on the
subject, you know.”
“Yeah
but…” Cho gave Harry a look that told
him he had better tread carefully. Harry
took a deep breath and, like a true Gryffindor, jumped right into the
deep end
regardless. “You already know that you
are the first girl I’ve ever kissed. The
only one in fact.” Cho nodded carefully
at this. “And you told me that Roger
Davies gave you your first kiss. And
then you dated Cedric. You even went out
with Michael for a bit and I assume…”
Harry looked over and caught the potentially explosive glint in
Cho’s
eye before he went too far. “Er... I
assume I have no idea what happened between the two of you. And it’s really none of my business
anyway.” Cho seemed to accept this and
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “I
just… I feel a bit lost here.
I don’t want to make a mistake but I also
don’t know how to avoid them.”
Cho
stood and,
for one horrific second, Harry thought she was going to storm off, but
instead
she extended her hand to help Harry up.
After they both stood, she hooked her arm through his and they
set off
to continue their stroll around the lake.
After
a slow
minute Cho spoke, “I think I understand what you mean.
When I started dating I was really nervous
too, but as a girl all I had to do was follow my date’s lead. But then, standing there in the Great Hall
with everybody watching me ask you if you wanted to start going out
again... I
sort of got the idea of how frightening it can be.
But remember Harry, I haven’t dated that many
boys myself. I’m just as nervous as you
are, and I don’t want to mess this up either.
Let’s just take things slow and easy at first and we’ll feel our
way
along.”
Harry snaked his arms around her back and slowly ran his fingers up her
spine. He was rewarded with a shiver
from Cho as she melted against his chest.
“Feel my way along, eh?” he said with a grin.
“I like the sound of that.”
The
grass
shuffled beneath their feet as they again made their way towards the
great
oaken doors of the castle. Their arms
swung easily as their hands remained linked.
“So,
what are
your plans for the rest of the day?” Cho asked.
Harry
thought
for a moment. “I dunno, nothing
yet. How about you?”
“Well,
this is
my N.E.W.T.s year and I need to get started early if I’m going to do my
best.”
Harry
thought
for a moment about what Cho had said before, about Hermione not wanting
to date
a fellow from her own house because it would interfere with her studies. He knew that he would have to give Cho plenty
of time for that. “Well then, why don’t
you get a head start on that this afternoon?
I think I can convince some of the guys to join me in a pick-up
Quidditch
game.”
Cho
eyes
suddenly brightened. “Oh!
Did you make Captain? That would be
so marvelous!”
Harry
looked
at her excited face and suddenly realized something.
“You made it, didn’t you? You’re
the Ravenclaw Captain.” Her flush was all
the answer he needed. “That’s wonderful,
Cho. I’m really glad for you.”
“But
what
about you? Are you the Gryffindor
Captain?”
Harry
smiled
sadly, “Cho, I’m not even on the team, remember? I
was banned last year. Ron’s Captain.”
“You
mean you
won’t even be playing?” she asked.
“Nobody’s
told
me the ban was lifted so I reckon not.”
“But
I was so
looking forward to beating you this year!”
“Sorry
to
disappoint you.”
“That’s
not
fair!”
“Not
much in
life is,” was his calm answer.
Cho
looked
around, trying to think of some way to salvage the conversation. She finally lit on an idea.
“OK, so I’ll study this afternoon and you see
if you can get up a game. We can, maybe,
meet for a bit after dinner? Seeing as
this is just the first day back, I don’t think the
Harry
looked
at her with a surprised grin and said, “It had better not be.” With that he kissed her lightly and they
headed in to have lunch.
The
Gryffindors jumped at the idea of playing Quidditch and a group,
including Ron,
Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and, surprisingly, Lavender and Parvati, headed
down to
the pitch after lunch. Hermione brought
a bag full of books to study as she watched them while Snuffles lay
dozing in
the shade. The afternoon was spent in a
joyous pursuit of nothing in particular as they played, ending games
and
rearranging teams as the whim took them.
Once, as Harry soared above the pitch, enjoying the feeling of
freedom
that flying always gave him, he noticed a group of girls spread out on
the lawn
near the castle, studying. A small hand
waved at him and he immediately recognized Cho.
Harry did a roll in response then dove straight towards the
ground at a
speed that had Hermione shrieking in fear.
Later
that
night, long after everyone else in the castle had gone to sleep. Harry lay quietly in his comfortable
four-poster and locked the memory of this day carefully away in his
mind. No matter what the future brought
for him, no
matter what horrors or trials he would have to face, he would always
have the
memory of this one perfect day to carry him through.
*
* * * *
Monday
morning
came far too early to the sixth year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. Ron grumbled as Harry padded into the showers
and Neville watered his collection of plants on the windowsill. They made their way down to the Great Hall for
breakfast and to receive their class schedules.
Harry vaguely wondered what classes he had been assigned, since
along
with not reading his OWL scores he had deliberately neglected to send
in any
class selections. Snuffles scooted ahead
of them and crawled under the table in front of Harry’s usual place. Harry grinned at the memory of last
night. Having a dog accompany him and
Cho to the Astronomy Tower had turned out to be a blessing as his keen
hearing had
prevented a possibly very embarrassing interruption by a suspicious
Mister
Filch. Harry noticed that Cho had not
come down yet as he began to eat.
A
few minutes
later, Hermione came walking along the table, handing out class
schedules. Harry looked at his and was not
really
surprised to see that he had every class he needed to meet his Auror
requirements, including Potions. He also
had Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology as electives.
‘Not bad,’ he thought. He had
already bought the books for all but
the Herbology class and he could get that one by owl.
“So,
mate,”
Ron said cheerily, “what do we have first?”
Harry
glanced
at his schedule and replied with a grin, “Defense!
Now that’s a good sign for the rest of the
year.”
“Yeah,”
agreed
Ron, “maybe we should have stuck with Divination after all?”
As
if on cue,
there came a screech from outside the doors.
All the Gryffindors were immediately on their feet and many had
their
wands out and at the ready.
“That
was Professor
Trelawney!” Parvati shouted as they ran for the entrance.
They
pushed
their way through the doors to see Professor Trelawney standing in the
middle
of the hall waving her thin arms like a mantis’ legs and screaming at
the top
of her lungs. Before they had even a
chance of figuring out what was going on, Snuffles bounded past them
and
skidded to a stop right in front of the Professor.
She stopped mid-screech and pointed one boney
finger at the huge black beast.
“THE
GRIM!”
she wailed. “I knew you would bring
nothing but death in your wake!”
Harry
ran up
to grab hold of Snuffles before he could cause any more damage when he
stopped
short, finally seeing the person Trelawney was screaming at. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
The
shrill
girlish voice that answered his question gave no doubt to any who
listened who
the cause of all the commotion was. “Hem
hem, mind your language, Mister Potter,” said Dolores Jane Umbridge. “I am a member of the faculty and I will be
treated with respect.”
“I’ll
treat
you to my boot in your arse, you filthy toad,” Harry continued to shout. “Now answer my question: What the bloody hell
are you doing here?” His voice was rife with anger.
Umbridge
fussed with the collar of her horrid pink cardigan and replied, her
voice even
sweeter and more sickening than it had been a moment ago. “I am the
Professor
in charge of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, as you well know. Now why don’t you head off on your way before
you get into trouble?”
“How
could you
be back after the cock-up you showed yourself to be last year? Dumbledore can’t be that stupid!”
Umbridge
smiled widely in that way that usually meant Harry was about to spend a
few
evenings in detention and was about to speak when another, calmer,
voice broke
in.
“Indeed
he is
not,” came the amused tones of Albus Dumbledore, “however, there are
certain
things that are beyond even my control.
Now, what seems to be the trouble here?”
Harry
turned
on him and practically screamed, “How could you allow this revolting
hag to
come back? She ought to be in Azkaban,
not here at Hogwarts!”
Dumbledore’s
tone remained calm and neutral as he spoke. “As
I have already said, Harry, some things
are beyond my control and Miss Umbridge is indeed this year’s Defense
Against
the Dark Arts instructor.”
“If
you think
for one minute I’m going to tolerate being in the same room as this... thing then you’re as barmy as the Daily
Prophet usually claims.”
Dolores
Umbridge, whose accharin smile had been growing increasingly tense and
brittle
as Harry raged, interrupted. “Mister
Potter, I’ve taken as much of your snide attitude as I am going to
take.”
“Nobody’s
talking to you,” Harry snapped.
“DETENTION!”
Umbridge almost giggled. She made a
point of tugging at the hem of her jumper before continuing in her
normal
grating voice. “The unfortunate
conclusion of last term is no excuse for your disrespectful attitude
towards
the staff, Mister Potter. I
am your Professor and you will obey me.”
Harry
turned
on her with hatred dripping off of his voice, “It will be a cold day in
hell
before I step into any class that you pretend to teach.”
“YOU
WILL
LEARN TO SHOW PROPER RESPECT!” she practically screeched. She had
cast off her girlish demeanor and had a gleam of anticipation in her
eye.
“I’ll
show you
all the respect you deserve, you cow.
NONE!”
“I
AM A
PROFESSOR HERE AND YOU WILL CONFORM!”
“You
are
totally incompetent to teach anything!”
Dolores
shook
herself to regain her composure and said sweetly, “And I suppose you think you could do better, hmm?”
“I
ALREADY
HAVE!”
Umbridge
smiled her girlish smile, her eyes glittering with what looked like
desire, and
said calmly, “That will be a week’s worth of detentions now, Potter. And you know what that means.”
“If
you think
for one moment that I will...” Harry began, but he was cut off by
Dumbledore.
“You
will
indeed serve your assigned detentions, Harry,” he said, taking control. Harry looked at him in betrayal while Dolores
seemed to dance with glee. “However, you
will serve them with me rather than Miss Umbridge.”
Dolores’
cheeks flamed as her eyes narrowed.
“Headmaster,” she said in her most condescendingly sweet voice,
“I
assigned the detentions and he shall serve them with me.
I am after all, the High...”
“Alas,
Dolores,”
the Headmaster interrupted, sounding almost sad, “although you may
remain as a
member of the faculty, the post of High Inquisitor has been abolished
and, in
accordance with Educational Decree number thirty, all powers and
responsibilities formerly assigned to the High Inquisitor are invested
with the
Headmaster. Now, to the best of my
knowledge, I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts and, therefore, I have the
power to
approve or modify all punishments as I see fit.”
Umbridge’s
eyes darted around the growing crowd as she struggled to regain some
semblance
of control over the situation. Finally,
she grasped onto an idea. “Hem, hem,”
she coughed delicately, “It is almost time for classes to begin, so why
don’t
we all just proceed to them, eh? I
believe your first class, Mister Potter, is Defense Against the Dark
Arts...
with me.” She was smiling gleefully
again. “So why don’t we get to it?”
Harry
looked
at her with unmasked hatred. “If you
think for one second that I will ever step into any class with you
again then
you’re even more stupid than I thought you were.” Professor
Umbridge’s face grew brittle under
her smile and her eyes blazed. Harry
looked as if he were about to hex her when Dumbledore stepped between
them.
“Harry,”
he
said quietly, “if you miss any class without a valid reason then you
will receive
a detention.” He glanced at the huge
crowd of students that surrounded them and raised his voice slightly to
be
heard by all. “Indeed, any student who
deliberately
skives off a class will be assigned detention.
And you, Mister Potter, since you are so sure that you can do a
better
job of teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts than the Ministry’s
designated instructor, will have the responsibility of overseeing those
detentions.”
“W-w-what?”
Harry stammered.
Dumbledore
turned and looked Harry straight in the eye, his own blue ones
twinkling
madly. “If you are so certain that you
could do a better job then the Ministry’s assigned instructor, then
prove
it. Your assigned detentions with me
will be spent developing what you consider to be an appropriate
curriculum for
the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
You will then have the chance to demonstrate your skills by
teaching
that curriculum to those other students who choose to skip their
Defense
classes.” He then looked at the
surrounding students and continued in a loud and clear voice. “Let it be known that any student who misses
a Defense Against the Dark Arts class will be given a detention. These Detention Assignees in their fifth year
and higher will serve these detentions in a Detention Area that I will
designate and be supervised by Mister Potter.”
His twinkling eyes hardened into a slight glare now. “All students from first through fourth years
will serve their detentions with Mister Filch.”
Many of the younger students, who had gathered around to watch
the
excitement, suddenly looked at their feet and edged away from the
Headmaster. “Now, it is getting late and I
suggest that
all of you head off to your classes.”
He
began to
make shooing motions with his hands and the crowd of students began to
disperse. Soon the corridor was almost
empty. Dumbledore looked at Harry and
smiled. “As you are scheduled for
Defense Against the Dark Arts at this time, I will be awaiting you in
my office
to discuss your syllabus.” With that he
turned and walked sedately up the broad marble staircase towards his
office.
Harry
stood in
the center of the Entrance Hal, completely stunned.
As the flow of students dwindled, he looked
around to see Ron, Ginny, and Hermione looking at him with broad smiles.
“I’m
due in
Divination,” Ginny said brightly, “and I can’t wait to see what Old Bug
Eyes
has to predict today!” She then
proceeded to skip off down the corridor heading towards the
Ron
gave him a
quick pat on the back and said, “It looks like I’ve got a free period
so I
suppose I have time for a bit more breakfast.” With this he turned and
returned
to the Great Hall.
Hermione
was
practically dancing with excitement. “I
guess the Headmaster isn’t going to let you drop the DA after all?” she
piped
up, grinning broadly.
“Huh?”
Harry
answered, still a bit shocked.
“Oh,
come on,
Harry!” she answered. “Don’t you see
it? Detention
Assignees going to the Detention Area? You’re back in charge of the DA, and there’s
nothing Umbridge or the Ministry can do about it!”
Harry
shook
his head, at last coming to terms with what this all meant, when a
drawling
voice drifted up the stairs behind him.
“My,
my,”
Draco Malfoy sneered, coming up from the dungeons, “It would seem that
Dumbledore’s
little pet is back in everyone’s good graces.”
“Stuff
a sock
in it, Malfoy,” Harry replied, irritated by the mere presence of the
Slytherin.
“Watch
it
there, Potty, or I’ll have to give you a detention.
This one to be served with Professor Snape,”
the blond boy said with a smirk.
“Oh
no,
Malfoy,” said Hermione, stepping between the two boys, “you’d best
watch it, or
Harry may just decide to dock some house points.”
“What
are you driveling
about, Mu...” At the glare from Harry
and the sight of his hand already on his wand, Malfoy continued more
slowly. “Muggle. Potty
here isn’t a Prefect; Dumbledore didn’t
think he was good enough for that.
Besides, even if he were, Prefects can’t dock house points, only
assign
detentions. Now, the Inquisitorial Squad,”
he continued wistfully, regaining his stride, “had the authority to
dock points
but that has been disbanded, at least temporarily.”
Draco’s words held the hint of a threat and
Harry and Hermione both felt it clearly.
Harry
tensed,
but Hermione continued in a voice as sickly sweet as Umbridge’s, “Right
you
are, Draco. Harry isn’t a Prefect, and
if he was he wouldn’t be able to dock points, but you heard the
Headmaster as
clearly as I did.”
Now
it was
Draco’s turn to look confused. “What are
you on about, Granger?”
“Harry
here
was assigned the responsibility, by the Headmaster mind, of instructing
students in a proper class of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“So?”
Draco
sneered, obviously not understanding Hermione’s train of thought at all. Harry, too, stood looking at her and waiting
for an explanation.
“Well,”
Hermione continued, now enjoying every second of the encounter,
“according to
the bylaws of Hogwarts, as stated in Hogwarts:
A History, any person designated by the Headmaster or the Board of
Governors and entrusted with the instruction of students, whether
granted the
title of Professor or not, will be deemed as a member of the staff and
empowered with all authorities thereto, to include the assigning of
punishments
and the awarding or removal of house points, as they see fit.” Hermione smiled broadly at the nonplussed
Slytherin.
“You’re
lying!” he spat at last. Hermione’s
reply was to give him a self-satisfied smirk of her own and glance over
at
Harry.
Harry,
too,
was grinning as he spoke. “Miss
Granger,” he said gleefully, “for your remarkable breadth of knowledge
about
the school, I award Gryffindor
Hermione
burst
into a fit of giggles as Draco slinked off.
“That was absolutely brilliant!” she crowed.
“Just like I’ve always dreamt it would
be. Of course, in my dreams I’m the one
who is a member of the faculty, but this was almost as satisfying.” She gave Harry a fierce hug.
“Now, I’m off to the Library to get a head
start on classes and you,” she said while poking a finger into his
ribs, “had
better head up to the Headmaster’s. He’s
expecting you.”
Hermione
practically danced up the stairs as Harry followed at a more sedate,
and, he
thought, more professorial pace.
The
stone gargoyle
that guarded the stairway to Dumbledore’s office had evidently been
told to
expect him for it leapt aside as Harry reached it and he stepped onto
the
moving staircase. Harry paused at the
thick oaken door to the Headmaster’s office then raised his hand to the
knocker, but before he could touch it Dumbledore’s voice rang out,
“Come in,
Harry. I’ve been expecting you.”
Harry
entered
the room with some small amount of dread.
His last time here had not been pleasant. Snape
had hexed him and then Dumbledore had
removed Sirius from his mind, triggering his return to Department of
Mysteries. The Headmaster must have
sensed his anxiety for he immediately stood and motioned Harry to a
seat on the
opposite side of his desk. When Harry
had taken his seat, Dumbledore waved his wand and a tea service
appeared, along
with a plate of scones. He handed a cup
to Harry and, as he stirred milk and sugar into his own, he began.
“Harry,”
he
said in his usual calm voice, “I will endeavor to make this visit more
pleasant
than your last few to this office have been.
We seem to be making a bit of a habit of making this office a
place you
wish to avoid rather than a refuge. I
hope to change that over the course of the upcoming year.”
Harry just nodded. Dumbledore gazed
at Harry over his half-moon
spectacles and Harry began to scan the painting on the walls in an
attempt to
avoid eye contact. Then, before Harry
even saw what he was doing, Dumbledore turned and grabbed one of
several
shining, spinning silver objects that decorated the shelves behind him. Dashing it against the wall, he smashed it to
bits.
“What
the...”
Harry sputtered, spinning to face the Headmaster, as Dumbledore brought
his
hands back to rest upon his desk.
“I
know it
would seem, Harry,” the old man began, “that I spend too much time
surrounded
by things and not enough by people. At
times, I admit that I could be accused of treating people as things
rather than
thinking and feeling equals.” He waved
his wand and the shattered pieces of the Sneakoscope flew back together
and
re-settled themselves on the shelf behind his head.
“Alas, objects can be easily repaired but
people...” He left the sentence
hanging. “I shall endeavor to remedy the
situation but much of the work needed must be done by those that are
damaged
rather than the ones seeking to repair them.”
Dumbledore
took a slow sip of his tea before continuing.
“I assume that you are rather concerned regarding the return of
Miss
Umbridge to this school.” He raised his
hand to forestall Harry’s hot reply. “It
was not my doing. Indeed, I would rather
leave the post vacant than have that woman within these walls but,
alas, that
is beyond my power.”
Harry
looked
over at the portrait of Phineas Negellus, who, rather than appear to be
napping
as the rest of the portraits did, leaned against his frame with an
irritating
sneer on his face. To avoid blasting the
painting off the wall, Harry turned to face Dumbledore again. “Then why is she here?”
“Dolores
is in
a bit of a unique situation among the staff here at Hogwarts,” the
Headmaster
said evenly. “She was hired neither by
me nor by the Board of Governors, as was the rest of the staff. She was appointed directly by the Minister of
Magic himself and therefore I have no power to remove her.”
Harry
was
dumbstruck. He worked his jaws for a
minute before he managed to get any words out.
“Do you mean to say that she’s here permanently?”
Dumbledore
shook his head. “Not entirely, no. What I meant was that since she was hired by
the Minister, only the Minister has the power to fire her and he has
chosen not
to do so at this time.” Harry sputtered
for a moment before Dumbledore spoke again.
“The only other alternative is for her to resign her post and
leave
voluntarily.”
“And
that’s
why I’m here,” Harry stated rather than asked.
“The
students
need to learn to defend themselves,” Dumbledore responded.
“The results of last term’s O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.
examinations in Defense Against the Dark Arts were quite telling, Harry. Were you aware that the top ten scores in
both sets of examinations were had by members of your club?”
Harry
looked
grim as he spoke, “And so I’m supposed to make sure that it happens
again, is
that it?”
Dumbledore
remained calm. “The students need to
learn what you can teach them.”
“You
knew this
all along, didn’t you?”
“I
suspected
that it might come to this, yes.”
“You
could
have warned me.”
“I
only
suspected it, Harry, I didn’t truly know Dolores was returning until
just this
weekend, and then there was no time to discuss the matter with you.”
“If
you
suspected it, you should have told me,” Harry said angrily.
“I
am the
Headmaster of a school with over 200 students, Harry,” he replied
calmly. “I am also the leader of the Order
of the
“All
right,
all right,” Harry snapped. “I get the
picture, you’re a busy man, but still you ought to let me know when one
of your
schemes directly involves me.”
“Unfortunately
Harry, a great many of my potential actions directly involve you in one
manner
or another,” Dumbledore said sadly.
“There just aren’t enough hours in the day to keep you apprised
of all
of them. You’ll just have to trust me
sometimes.”
“And
what if I
don’t want to trust you?” Harry asked.
The air grew pregnant with the pause as Harry waited and
Dumbledore
didn’t answer, but then Harry knew the answer already: he didn’t have a
choice. Harry slumped back in his chair
in resignation.
If any of the sixth-years thought that their workload would decrease now that their O.W.L.s were over, they were rather rudely surprised. The Professors began assigning piles of homework from the very first day of class, telling their students that all the hard work would pay off when they took their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione was truly in her element; however, by Wednesday's classes Harry was already woefully behind in his assignments, and that was without his taking any Defense classes.
At breakfast Thursday morning nearly everyone at the Gryffindor table had their noses pressed into textbooks as they spooned porridge into their mouths. Hermione had two books propped against milk jugs and a third in her hand, Ron was reviewing an old Quidditch playbook that Oliver Wood had given to Angelina, who had in turn passed it down to Ron, and Harry was deep into his Potions text; their first class with Snape was immediately after breakfast and he wanted to be as prepared as possible. His concentration was broken, however, when a paper bird flapped down and landed on his spoon just as it was paused at his lips. Curious glances followed him as he took the bird and lowered his spoon back to his bowl.
"Wha's that?" Ron asked.
"It flew over like one of those parchment aeroplanes Dad uses at the Ministry," Ginny quipped, "but it's a bird."
"It's origami, the Japanese art of paper folding," Hermione informed them all. "That is a crane, a symbol of good luck and one of the basic forms."
In the meantime, Harry had begun to unfold the parchment to see if it contained a message. He blushed when he saw it. Ginny stood and looked over the table to see. She sat down with a grimace when she saw a large red kiss, obviously formed with lipstick. Harry looked over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Cho waving at him jauntily. He smiled back and put the paper into his pocket.
"We have Charms after lunch today, don't we?" he asked. Hermione nodded in response and Harry said, "I need to speak with Professor Flitwick after class." Ginny looked to be about to say something when the hall was filled with the fluttering of a hundred owls.
"Ah, mail's here," Ron said.
Harry looked up and smiled to himself as a brace of four owls, a long thin package slung between them, swooped down from one of the high windows towards the Gryffindor table. Watching them approach he was able to duck as they came in for an indecorous landing in the middle of the table. Ginny was wiping cold porridge from her face as the owls struggled to get to her.
"Shear off, you blasted pigeons!" she scolded as the birds knocked over her pumpkin juice. She reached out and began to untie the package from their legs as the rest of the Gryffindors began to gather around her.
"That looks like a... broomstick," Ron gasped as Ginny fed the owls strips of bacon. "G'wan Ginny, open it up and let's see."
The delivery owls taken care of, Ginny unwrapped the parcel spilling a shining new Nimbus Storm onto the table in front of them. Ginny looked at it for a few seconds and then raised her head to look at the people gathered around her. She locked eyes with Harry who returned her gaze wide-eyed and unblinking, thinking that what was good for the goose was good for the gander.
"Nice broom," he mouthed to her silently. She blushed and made to reply when Ron interrupted her.
"Who could have sent it to you?" he asked. "Reckon it was the twins?"
"I dunno," Ginny answered. "Why would they send me a broom?"
"Isn't it plain?" Ron asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They want us to win the Cup again!"
"Maybe..." Ginny began only to be interrupted by a stern voice from behind them.
"Indeed, it is a promising-looking broom, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. She had come up without anyone noticing to them to see what all the commotion was about. "With that, your performance as Seeker should be something to see indeed."
"But Harry's flying Seeker," Ron blurted out.
"Yeah," added Ginny, "I was thinking of trying out for Chaser." She looked over her shoulder at her Head of House. "Oh no, you don't mean..." Ginny's eyes grew wide with shock. "Harry's still banned?"
McGonagall's lips practically disappeared as she glared at the table collectively. "Mister Potter's punishment was handed down through established procedures and there is no reason at present to alter it."
"But that's totally unfair!" Ron practically screamed. "That ban was completely out of line and everyone knows it!"
"Irrespective of what you or anyone else may know, Mister Weasley, the punishment was handed down in accordance with the by-laws of this school and the staff has no reason to question it."
"You mean Harry will never be able to play again?" Ron said, stunned.
With this Professor McGonagall shifted her gaze to Harry, who had sat stonily silent throughout the discussion. "The only person with any say in the matter is Mister Potter. If he feels the punishment was unjust than he can appeal it. Until and unless he decides to do so, my hands are tied in this matter."
Every pair of eyes at the table turned to look at Harry. He glared back at them all and then turned his face back towards the Professor. He didn't say a word as he threw his books into his bag and stood from the table. Tossing the bag over his shoulder, he stalked from the room leaving all the Gryffindors staring after him.
Harry was the first student to arrive at the Potions classroom. He took a seat at a table not quite in the back of the room and far enough to one side that he should have an easy time of avoiding Snape's line-of-sight. After a few minutes other students began to trickle in.
Ron took the seat next to him and whispered urgently, "What was that all about, Harry?"
"Just leave it alone, Ron," was Harry's curt reply.
"But McGonagall said that if you want to play Quidditch then you're going to have to appeal your ban," Ron responded. "So, when are you gonna do it?"
"I'm not."
"WHAT?"
"You heard me; I'm not going to appeal it, so just drop it, OK?"
While Ron sat there sputtering, Hermione joined them and sat directly in front of the pair. Padma Patil came in and sat beside her; the NEWT level classes would obviously have a different mix of houses in them than in their previous years. When she looked back at the two of them Ron shot her an exasperated look. Padma turned back with a sniff.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked them. Harry noticed that the Ravenclaw was leaning slightly back in her seat but nonchalantly looking at the front of the class. She was obviously trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Can you believe it?" Ron snorted. "Harry says he's not going to appeal the ban. He's giving up on Quidditch!"
Hermione seemed shocked and turned in her seat to face Harry.
"It's none of your business, Hermione, so just leave off, all right?" Harry whispered fiercely as the door to Snape's office swung open. Hermione didn't notice and continued to stare at Harry as the Potions Master bore down on them.
"Not paying attention already, Miss Granger? It's only your first class, or do you think you already know everything there is to know?" Hermione snapped around at Snape's words, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. "That will be five points from Gryffindor. Now shall we get started?" He turned away and, with a wave of his wand, a list of ingredients along with a complex set of directions appeared on the blackboard at the front of the room.
"It is quite a mystery how some of you, who shall remain nameless," Snape continued as he shot an unsubtle glance at Harry and Ron, "managed to get into this class but be that as it may, I will not be easing back on the material. This course will be sink or swim and anyone I feel isn't making the grade will be removed." Harry heard a snigger from the other side of the room and turned to see Malfoy sitting next to Blaise Zabini and not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. "Now I suggest that you get started on this rather simple revealing potion if you wish to get it finished before the end of class. When finished it should be crystal clear."
With this Snape sat behind his desk and proceeded to bury his nose in a stack of parchment for the rest of the class. Harry read over the instructions for the potion they were to make. If this was Snape's idea of simple then Harry was in for a very long year. 'Stir three times in a decreasing anti-clockwise spiral?' he thought to himself. 'This was definitely going to be a long class.'
Three hours and 40 points from Gryffindor later, Harry took a sample from his cauldron for grading. It was indeed crystal clear just as Snape had said it should be. Malfoy had placed his sample on the front table just as Harry walked up with his. Harry deliberately waited until the Slytherin had left before placing his vial down as well. He turned back towards his seat and had taken two steps when he heard the sharp sound of breaking glass. Spinning back he saw Snape sitting there, still holding his stack of parchment while the remains of Harry's sample sat glittering on the floor. The professor sneered at Potter as if accusing him of causing such a mess in his classroom. Harry turned back to retrieve another sample and saw Hermione clearly standing away from his work area. She wasn't going to repeat her mistake from last term. Draco, however, had other plans. As he strolled past Harry's table he swung his satchel over his shoulder, taking it through a wide arc that just happened to catch the rim of Harry's cauldron and knocked it to the floor, splattering Harry's potion all over Hermione causing her robes to turn semi-transparent revealing her grey tweed uniform skirt underneath. Draco continued out of the room as if nothing at all had happened.
As if he had been waiting for just this moment, Professor Snape's cold drawl came from behind Harry. "I don't like messes in my class, Potter. You will clean up both of yours before you leave. And since you have no sample for grading you will receive no mark for today's work."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile as she lifted his cauldron back onto the table. Harry answered with a shrug and shooed his hands at her telling her to just leave and he would take care of the mess himself. By the time he had finished cleaning and packing away his things there were no other students left in the class. Harry turned to leave when Snape called out and stopped him.
"Potter, it seems that you forgot something," he drawled. Harry looked around not seeing anything left that was his. Snape shook his head as if Harry was a particularly slimy slug crawling across the floor. "Last night? We had an appointment? To be more precise, you had a detention and you failed to show up for it. Did you forget?"
"No, Professor," Harry answered calmly.
Snape's mouth hung open for a moment before he regained his usual sneer. "Do you mean to say that you deliberately failed to come to your detention?"
Harry looked back. Without saying a word, he picked up his bag and walked out.
He had managed to school his face into a calm mask, but beneath it Harry was seething as he approached the Great Hall with its raucous sounds of students eating lunch. He didn't want to face his friends because he knew that the subject would quickly turn to Quidditch and his ban, and that was one subject he definitely wanted to avoid. He had made up his mind to skip lunch and take a walk outside when movement from a corridor to his right drew his attention. In spite of his mood, Harry smiled as Cho walked towards him. She opened her arms to give him a hug when Harry raised his own to ward her off.
"Potions," was all he said as he wrinkled his nose is disgust at the smell the class had left behind.
Cho lowered her arms and smiled in sympathy. "How bad was he?" she asked.
"About normal," Harry responded. "Forty points from Gryffindor and no mark at all today for me." Cho seemed a bit shocked until Harry explained and then she looked angry.
"There ought to be a way..." she began.
"Don't worry about it. The grades don't matter anyways. I just need to get through the classes so that I can sit for the N.E.W.T. test. That's what counts."
Cho looked at him silently for a moment then said, "Are you particularly hungry, or would you rather go for a short walk?"
Harry stared at her and thought. He was a bit hungry, but the thought of facing all the Gryffindors and their questions was still more than he wanted to deal with. "Let's go," he said with a forced casualness and led her out onto the grounds.
The air was pleasantly warm and high clouds danced across the sky. Instead of heading down to the lake as several other people were doing, they turned and headed towards the greenhouses and Hagrid's hut beyond. They strolled easily together and neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Cho broke the silence by broaching the topic that Harry had been trying to avoid. "So, I heard that your ban is still in effect?"
Harry bristled for a moment, thinking that Padma hadn't wasted any time in reporting her gossip to the rest of Ravenclaw. "Oh," he said trying to sound nonchalant, "where did you hear that?"
"Please don't be angry with me, Harry. I couldn't help but hear some of what happened this morning at breakfast. I'll wager everyone in the hall heard Ron Weasley shouting when McGonagall came to your table, and I sort of asked Padma if you had continued to discuss it in class. She was only doing me a favor."
Harry looked down into Cho's dark brown eyes; he just couldn't stay angry with her when she looked back at him so openly. It was as she was inviting him to see all that she was, holding nothing back.
"All right, I reckon there was no harm done. We would have talked all about it anyway."
"I think I understand how you feel," she continued so quietly that Harry had to focus to hear her. "It must be awful to feel like you are under someone's thumb. That you need to ask permission for anything you want. It must be like living in a cage."
Harry looked off at the forest, the trees blending together into a single mass until it became hard to distinguish one from the other. "The worst part is that sometimes you get so used to it that it becomes second nature and you almost forget what it's like to be able to make your own decisions."
Cho wrapped her arm around Harry's and gave it a squeeze. Harry looked back at her and felt reassurance flowing into his chest, loosening some of the tightness there. He nodded slowly.
"And I understand," Cho continued, "if you decide not submit to them. I don't know if I would do it if I were in your place but I'm not you and you have to decide for yourself." They took a turn around Greenhouse three, where Professor Sprout still kept a small crop of Mandrakes just in case, then headed back towards the doors to the castle. "I was rather looking forward to beating you though," she added with a grin.
"Beating me?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "Miss Chang, I didn't know you were that sort!"
Cho blushed then grinned back. "I was talking about Quidditch, you prat!"
"Oh?" Harry responded. "I'd have thought that you would have a better chance of beating me the other way." Cho slapped his shoulder as they made their way into the Great Hall. "Do you think we have time for a quick bite before our next class?"
They headed over towards the Gryffindor table. Harry could see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sitting together talking and he could easily see what they were discussing from Ron's wild hand movements. Only talk of Quidditch could get him that excited. Harry and Cho moved between the long tables towards them as Harry braced for the barrage of questions he felt sure he was going to be receiving.
"Hey guys," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "How's lunch?"
Hermione looked up at him with sympathy and just shrugged, Ginny smiled, and Ron dropped the roll he was gesturing with when he saw it was Harry standing there.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well what, Ron?" Harry answered.
"When are you going to appeal your ban, of course!"
Harry shook his head and said, "I already told you, Ron, I'm not going to."
"But WHY!"
Harry thought for a moment of how to answer that question. He had been wrestling with it, in one form or another, ever since the first time Uncle Vernon told him to take out the trash. "Because, Ron," he began, "I shouldn't have to ask."
"But McGonagall said that the only way for the ban to be lifted is if you appeal it," Ron practically pleaded.
"Oh come off it, Ron," Harry snapped. "You can't really believe that load of rubbish."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, confused. "That's the rule."
Harry looked his friend straight in the eye. "And when have the rules ever stopped Dumbledore from doing anything?" he asked. "He's hiding behind that rule, and the only reason he's doing that is because he wants me to come to him. He wants me to ask to be able to play again. He wants me to beg."
"But that would mean..." Ron began.
"That Dumbledore is using Harry?" Hermione added. "That he is trying to manipulate him? Trying to force Harry to do just what he wants him to?"
Now Cho spoke for the first time, "Or simply trying to prove that he is the one with the power and that Harry has to submit to his will."
"Tha's daft," was all Ron could say.
"It all comes down to a lose-lose decision for Harry," Cho continued. "Either he refuses to submit to Dumbledore and stays banned from Quidditch, or he asks the Headmaster's permission to play when there is no good reason why he shouldn't. Either way he gives up a piece of himself."
Ginny snorted loudly and everyone turned to face her.
"So," Cho asked with a chill in her voice, "you think differently."
Ginny returned Cho's stare evenly and replied, "I just think there's more than one way to skin a Kneazle."
"What do you mean, Ginny?" Hermione asked. "What other choice does he have?"
Ginny snorted. "He can do what he's always done: change the rules."
Harry looked at her curiously, with his head tilted slightly to one side. Ginny looked back and spoke directly to him.
"This isn't like a game of Wizard's Chess, Harry," she said quietly. "The rules aren't set in stone. If you just play the game the way someone else wants you to then yes, it is a losing proposition every time. But when have you ever done that? Find a way to change the rules. Make it so that Dumbledore is in a position where he has to do what you want him to do, instead of the other way around."
Harry slowly lowered himself into a seat, a shocked look on his face. Everyone else was silent. Ron looked bewildered, Hermione thoughtful. Ginny began to gather her books and pack them up. Cho remained standing and reached across Harry to grab a couple of rolls and then began to fill them with slices of meat.
After a minute, Harry shook his head and turned towards Ginny. "Thanks," he said.
"Don't mention it," Ginny answered casually as she rose and walked away.
Harry stood and mindlessly began to walk away from the group. Cho followed closely behind him. As they reached the doors, she gave him a nudge with her shoulder.
"Huh?" Harry said, startled out of his reverie.
Cho handed him one of the sandwiches she had made. "I thought you might want this," she said. "We never got around to eating in there."
"Thanks," Harry said absently as he bit into his food.
They walked silently together for awhile. Finally, they reached a junction where Cho had to turn to get to Transfiguration and Harry to head upstairs to get to Charms. Harry shook off his thoughts long enough to give Cho a brief kiss on the cheek before they separated for the rest of the day.
The next morning at breakfast, Harry got down early and had already eaten a rather substantial meal when Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and several others joined him at the table.
"Morning, Harry," Ron said warily. "Have you thought any more about what we talked about yesterday?"
Harry looked at his mate and said, "No, but I have been thinking about what Ginny said."
Ginny grinned at him and said, "And have you reached any conclusions?"
Harry didn't answer. Instead he looked up at the staff table where nearly all of the teachers were currently gathered to dine. Dumbledore sat at the center of the table in a large throne-like chair. Professor McGonagall sat on his right and several spots to the left, between Professor Vector and Snape sat Dolores Umbridge with her vile velvet bow perched on top of her head.
With a positively feral grin, Harry stood and strode up the Headmaster. He cleared his throat and spoke in a loud and clear voice that carried plainly throughout the hall, "Excuse me, Headmaster?"
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore answered with a twinkle in his eye.
"I was wondering, sir, if you could tell me what the customary punishment is for two students fighting."
Dumbledore frowned as he appeared to be deep in thought. "Fighting amongst the students is a serious violation of school rules, Mister Potter. Do you mean a fight using magic, an unauthorized duel?"
"No sir, a brief, spur-of-the-moment, physical altercation."
"Well then, the usual punishment for a simple brawl is detention for all students involved and a docking of house points if the fight crosses house lines. Isn't that right, Minerva?"
Professor McGonagall harrumphed and said, "Yes, Headmaster, that is the customary punishment."
"There you have it, Mister Potter, or was there something else?"
"Yes, sir, there was. Last year I was involved in such an incident and as a result I was banned from playing Quidditch for the rest of my time here at Hogwarts. Now I fully acknowledge that it was a violation of the rules to engage in that fight, but, as you have explained it, the punishment far exceeded what was customary."
At this point, Umbridge, who had been clearing her throat almost constantly since Harry began speaking, interrupted. "Professor Dumbledore, that fight was hardly an isolated incident! It served as an indication that Mister Potter here is seriously unbalanced and is a threat to all of the students here as well as the faculty."
"I must agree, Headmaster," added Snape with a typically cold sneer at Harry. "As the said fight was with one of the students of my own house, I must recommend that the punishment remain in place."
"No one has yet spoken about changing any punishments, Professor Snape," Dumbledore said calmly. "Now Harry, why did this fight begin?"
Snape began to rise as he spoke, "Headmaster..."
"I am speaking with Mister Potter at this time, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, causing Snape to reluctantly sink back into his chair. "Go on, Harry."
"It occurred directly after a Quidditch match, Professor. In spite of several blatant fouls, I was able to catch the Snitch and Gryffindor won the match. As the teams were landing their brooms, the opposing team's seeker made several insulting comments and I'm afraid I allowed my temper to get the best of me."
"Ah," said Dumbledore calmly, "under these circumstances emotions do tend to run high and these things, unfortunately, do sometimes happen."
Now it was Umbridge who was on her feet. "Professor Dumbledore, this was hardly an isolated incident. Those two boys have been fighting for as long as they both have been at school!"
Dumbledore turned to Umbridge now. "You mean to say, Dolores, that there have been numerous such altercations between the boys?"
"Yes, several! They have been fighting for years!"
"And so this was just one incident among many?"
"Absolutely!"
"And so, as fitting such a situation, I assume both boys were punished equally?" He looked over at his Potions Master. "Severus, under these circumstances, I would assume that you would be hoping to have your player reinstated as well?"
"Sir," Harry said solicitously, "the other student wasn't banned."
"He wasn't?" Dumbledore said with a shocked expression. "What punishment did he receive then?"
"None, sir."
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Umbridge shouted, "I saw no need to punish Mister Malfoy as it was Potter who struck the blow." Snape remained seated, scowling as if he could already see how this discussion was going to end.
"Only after being provoked, Dolores, and, as you have said yourself, this was just one incident in a long running series. Surely, blame can not be placed solely on a single individual in such a case. Unless, of course, it is shown that Mister Malfoy was goaded into provoking Mister Potter. If it could be shown that a third party had instigated the entire incident then obviously the vast majority of the blame would be placed there."
Umbridge suddenly began to turn purple, as if she had swallowed her own tongue to silence it. Dumbledore turned back to Harry.
"So, Harry, as a consequence of this fight, you were banned from playing Quidditch entirely?" Harry nodded. "And the other student wasn't punished at all?"
Harry nodded again and said, "That is correct, sir."
"Well that certainly doesn't seem fair, now does it?"
Umbridge suddenly regained her voice. "Professor Dumbledore, in my opinion..."
Dumbledore cut her off with a searing look. "The value of your opinion, Dolores, has already been adequately demonstrated." He paused for a moment. "Now it seems that we have two possible courses of action. One, in the interest of justice, we can give equal punishments to both students involved in the brawl. That would mean that Mister Malfoy would also be banned from playing Quidditch for his house team. What do you think about that, Professor Snape?" Dumbledore looked down the table to where Snape appeared to be about to explode and shook his head with a slight grin. "I take that to mean you don't agree. Well then, obviously if both boys can not share the same punishment then they should share the same lack of punishment. Mister Potter, your ban from playing is hereby rescinded forthwith."
Cheers went up from the Gryffindor table as Harry gave the Headmaster a short nod and returned to his seat.
Harry saw that Ginny Weasley was grinning madly as he took a sticky bun from the plate in front of him.
"Talk about snatching victory from the jaws of defeat," she crowed. "That was a true win-win situation!"
"Yeah!" Ron said from around a mouthful sausage.
Not wanting to see any more of Ron's breakfast, Hermione finished for him. "Harry's back on the team and that cow Umbridge gets publicly humiliated."
Ron swallowed and returned, "Not to mention the look on Snape's puss! It doesn't get much better than this!"
Then Dumbledore was standing again and addressing the whole school. "One final notice before you all begin leaving for your morning's classes. The Detention Area has been completed on the second floor and all students who have decided not to attend Miss Umbridge's classes will report there beginning at 7 o'clock this evening and every Thursday evening until further notice to serve their assigned detentions. Mister Potter, if you would accompany me after your have finished your breakfast, I will show the facilities to you personally."
Harry hurriedly swallowed the last of his bun and gulped down half a glass of pumpkin juice before rising and heading over to the main doors. On the way he noticed Cho smiling broadly at him and giving him a thumbs-up. Harry smiled brightly in return.
* * * * *
Harry sat on the edge of the large teacher's desk at the front of the mostly empty classroom and looked up at the clock above the door - the single hand pointed to 'Still a bit early'. The room itself was larger than any of the classrooms Harry had yet used in the castle, about a third the size of the Great Hall itself, where the entire school could easily fit. Most of it was open space and free of any furniture or rugs. It would be perfect for spreading everyone out and having them practice their spellwork. At the end opposite the door, where Harry now sat, in addition to his desk, there was also a large library table with four chairs and some bookshelves that were currently empty. Aside from a blackboard hanging on the wall there were no other furnishings. Harry scanned the room for the umpteenth time and was still stunned that Dumbledore actually expected him to teach here, or teach at all for that matter. That old man was absolutely insane Harry reckoned, regardless of whether or not he was right.
A few moments later Harry watched as the door was pushed open and his first Detention Assignees entered. Of course, it was Ron and Hermione with Neville, Ginny and Luna coming in two steps later. Harry thought for a moment that it was these five people - no, he corrected himself - it was these five friends who had gone with him to the Ministry last year. They had stood by him when he needed it. They had fought beside him and in a way it was right that they should be the first members of this new DA. Harry hopped off his desk and went to greet them.
"Nice digs you got here, Harry," was Ron's first comment.
Ginny looked around at all of the space and whistled. "Dumbledore must really be expecting a large turnout if he arranged a room this size."
Hermione also seemed surprised at the size of the room. "Well, there was almost nobody in our Defense class yesterday, only a couple of Slytherins and I wouldn't expect any of them to show up here."
"Not with Harry teaching they wouldn't," Ron answered. "Hey, wait a minute! How would you know who was or wasn't in our class? You didn't... You wouldn't! Would you?"
Ginny tut-ed at her brother and said, "Of course she didn't! Hermione would never stab Harry in the back like that. Did you?"
"Of course not!" Hermione squeaked as her cheeks flushed. "But I did peek into the room on my way up to the library and the only people in it were Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Gregory Goyle. They were just sitting there twiddling their thumbs while Umbridge sat behind her desk and fumed."
"It was the same with my fifth year class with the Hufflepuffs, not a single student was there." Luna said dreamily to the blank stone wall she was gazing at.
Ron slapped Harry on the back and said, "Looks like you should be expecting a big turnout." Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
At this point the door opened again and another group of students came in. Harry noticed that they were mostly Ravenclaws and Michael Corner was among them. Harry scanned the group closely, looking for two faces in particular but neither was there. Harry went to say 'hullo' to the newcomers and was pleasantly surprised when Michael made a point of coming to shake his hand in greeting. His face still looked tense but he forced a smile and Harry took this as a good sign.
Over the next few minutes several more groups of students came in and Harry tried to greet them all. Each time the door opened he would scan the group and had to work to keep disappointment from his face when he didn't see who he was looking for. Hermione nudged him and gave him a look that said that he ought to get started, but Harry still held back.
He was talking Quidditch with Ron when the door opened a last time. Harry smiled in relief as Cho walked in the room with someone else following close behind. It looked as if this second person was trying to hide in her friend's shadow when Cho suddenly stepped aside and revealed Marietta Edgecombe. Harry noticed that there were still a large number of spots on her face before she lowered her eyes to the floor, but they no longer spelled out 'sneak'. Cho turned to her friend and, with a gentle nudge, pushed her forward.
There was a collective intake breath as the group all recognized the person who had betrayed them to Umbridge last year. Harry saw Hermione's eyes grow hard and Ron's ears begin to go red. Harry schooled his own face into a neutral mask as he crossed the room towards the two girls. He saw a look of fear cross Marietta's face as he approached and Harry allowed a gentle smile to come to his lips. He held his hands out to her and clasped both of hers in greeting.
"Marietta," he said quietly, "I'm so glad that you decided to come back." Then a bit more loudly he added, "Well, now that we're all here, I suppose we can get started."
Harry turned back to the group and noticed cold fury on Ron's face. As he approached, his friend hissed, "Harry! How can you let that sneak back in? I say chuck her out on her arse!"
Harry looked back with such a stony glare that Ron instinctively backed up a step to try and escape it. "She stays," he said in a voice to match his glare.
"But she's the one who ratted us out," Ron hissed back.
"So what?" Harry returned. "She made a mistake. I give her a lot of credit; it took nerve to come back here. She knows she made a mistake and I say we get over it."
"But look at all the trouble she caused. She almost got you expelled!"
"So what?" Harry repeated. "Yeah, her mistake caused a bit of trouble but we all make mistakes. I made some mistakes last year too, remember? One of my mistakes almost got you killed, but you forgave me."
Ron flushed at the reminder of the events of last year. "But that's different," he argued. "You were tricked, that could happen to anyone."
"Yeah, it could," Harry said calmly. "It happened to me and it happened to her as well. She was tricked. She was used just like I was, and if you can forgive me for almost getting you killed then you ought to be able to forgive her for causing us some trouble."
Ron looked at his feet and Hermione reached out and put a hand on his arm. After a moment, Ron nodded. Harry smiled and turned back to the group.
"If we're all ready to begin?" he said to get the crowd's attention. When they had all settled down he continued, "As we all know, we're here to practice some magic, not read theory, so I think we ought to get started by doing just that. Why don't we all spread out in a circle, everyone facing out?"
Harry walked around as the group rearranged themselves with each student facing the blank wall. He smiled to himself as the pleasure of running the DA came back to him. He truly enjoyed this and, to be honest with himself, he was glad that Dumbledore had forced him to take it up again. He kept this feeling to himself and addressed the group with authority.
"The first thing we're going to do is something fun," he told them. "I'm going to show you a new jinx. This isn't a Dueling Club and I'm certainly not going to pretend to be qualified to teach you how to duel. That being said, there are going to be times when we are going to be throwing jinxes at each other in order to test shield charms and the like. And so the first thing we're going to learn is an attack. When we do face off against each other, this is the attack I want you to use." He let his voice grow hard for a moment. "Let me repeat that, I don't want to see any of us using any other spells against each other, no stunners, no disarming charms, no leg-lockers, just this spell."
At this point Harry turned and pointed his wand towards the wall. He muttered an incantation and a bright yellow spark flew out of the end of his wand and splashed against the wall with a snap.
"This is a quick spell and so it will be a real test of getting your shields up in time. It also stings a bit so that you'll know if you failed, but it doesn't have any lasting effect and no counter-jinx is needed. The incantation is Apis"
The group quickly learned this new spell and yellow flashes were soon dancing all over the walls of the classroom. Harry was walking around the inside of the circle, making sure that everyone had the spell down, when he jerked as the bee sting jinx struck him smartly in the back of the leg. He spun around and saw Cho looking at him with mirth in her eyes.
"Oops," she said quietly and quickly turned back to Marietta with a giggle.
Harry shook his head, considering the change in the girl from the whimpering hosepipe he had known last year. Was this the real Cho Chang, he wondered, or just a temporary phase she was passing through? He carefully pointed his wand at her rump and whispered, "Vespa."
He quickly turned away as he heard her yelp. As he continued his circuit of the group he grinned at the mental image of Cho rubbing her backside and scowling at him.
"All right now," Harry said loudly. "We all seem to have gotten the hang of that one, so let's review our shield charm next."
Harry took the group through a quick review and saw that most of them had little trouble remembering the spell. When everyone seemed ready he had them pair up for practice. One person would cast the bee sting and the other would try to block it. He noticed quite a few people wincing as they failed to get their shields up in time. Marietta was having a particularly difficult time, Harry saw, and Cho was frequently apologizing for scoring hits. Harry walked up and watched for a few exchanges. Cho's shield was up quickly and held firm but Marietta's, even though it was up in time, couldn't seem to hold off the jinx. Harry stepped up close beside her and held out his own wand so she could see it.
"I think the problem you're having is with the wand movement," he said calmly.
"But I'm making the same motions as Cho," Marietta whinged, "the shield just won't hold."
Harry continued patiently, "I don't think the problem is with your pattern, but with how you do it. A shield has to be strong and so your movement has to show that. You're being a bit timid with your wand. Show confidence with it. Put more force into your wand motion and more force will go into the shield."
He motioned Cho to attack and Harry moved to block. He deliberately held his wand loosely and Cho's jinx flew right through his shield and struck him in the stomach. He winced slightly but smiled when Cho's eyes grew wide with concern. He motioned her to attack again and this time he moved his wand with crisp certainty. His shield glowed brightly as Cho's jinx splattered against it.
"See?" Harry said to Marietta. "Don't be afraid of your shield, be forceful and strong and your shield will be the same."
He stepped back and had them try it again. This time Marietta's shield held and she turned to Harry with a bright smile. He nodded back and told them both to keep working.
He mixed up the pairing a few times so that each student got to work with several others to vary their experience. Finally, they all seem to have gotten back up to speed and Harry called a halt to the practice. He motioned the group to sit down as he moved back towards his desk.
Harry sat on the edge of the desk and looked out at the group of students in front of him. There were substantially more of them now then when the DA was a secret and forbidden group. He thought he could see all of the students from his own year, except for the Slytherins, and he would bet that most of the seventh and fifth years were there as well. He took a deep breath and addressed them.
"The purpose of this group..." Harry was somehow reluctant to call them the DA. "...is for us to all learn how to protect ourselves. When the Headmaster and I were working out what we wanted the group to learn this year, we agreed on one thing right from the start. The greatest threat you are likely to face is not Voldemort." The group gave a collective shudder at the name and Harry and Hermione both grimaced at their reactions. "And it is not his Death Eaters. The greatest threat you have to worry about, the most important thing you need to learn, is how to protect yourselves from Dementors." Harry got up from the desk and began to pace slowly in front of the group. "We all heard at the end of last term that the Dementors had abandoned Azkaban and had joined forces with Voldemort." Again the group shuddered. "All of us also remember what it is like to face one of them, since we were all on the train three years ago when they stopped and searched it. Well, that was only one Dementor, and I can attest that when they come in groups, their effects are much worse.
"We all know that they abandoned Azkaban, but why? They had a steady diet of captured Death Eaters coming in there, so why give that up?" Harry looked around the room but no one seemed to want to answer; even Hermione was reluctant to raise her hand. Well, Harry thought, they could afford to step back but he couldn't. He answered his own question. "The reason they joined forces with Tom is that he promised them more. More souls to consume. More misery to spread. More pain. More anguish." He paused for a moment then shouted, "I have no intention of letting them get any one of you! So, Dumbledore agreed that the most important thing any of you can learn this year is the Patronus Charm."
Harry stepped back and raised his wand. Gathering up his memory of Cho and how she had come into his arms that evening at the Sorting Feast, how, in front of the whole school, she had chosen him, Harry shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The bright silver stag erupted from his wand and began to prance a circuit around the students. Seeing no Dementors to drive off, it returned to Harry and stood before him with bowed head. Harry reached out to stroke the image but as his hand almost came in contact with the great beast it dissipated into nothing. Harry struggled to keep the disappointment from his face as he faced his class.
"The Patronus is the magical embodiment of happiness, of joy. It is the complete opposite of a Dementor and that is why it drives them away."
Harry saw a hand raised towards the rear of the group and nodded for the person to speak. It was Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff; he noticed and tried to stop his annoyance from showing. Smith had a habit last year of asking questions that seemed aimed at embarrassing him.
"But don't the Dementors feed off of happiness?" he asked. "If a Patronus is made of the very emotions that the Dementors feed on then why is it that they don't just consume the Patronus itself?"
Harry nodded, as if considering the question; he had asked Dumbledore almost the exact same thing when they were discussing teaching the charm to the DA. "No one can really answer that question with certainty, since no one really knows much about how or even why a Dementor exists. We haven't even found a way to destroy them, only drive them off. But the most reasonable guess is that the Dementor doesn't really feed off of the emotions, it feeds off of people. It is the life-force of the human being, which is especially strong when positive emotions are being felt, that feeds the Dementor. As a Dementor feeds, it leaves behind it the hopelessness and negative feelings that are its own environment. A Patronus is a magical embodiment of our happiness. It is not truly alive and so it had no life force for the Dementor to consume. Instead, it surrounds the Dementor with the antithesis of its desired environs and so drives it away." Harry spoke with calm authority and the class had grown quiet as if receiving a lecture from Dumbledore himself. Harry smiled and continued more lightly, "At least that is what some people think. All I know for certain is that it works."
"It didn't work so well for you on the train," Zack said snidely.
Harry nodded his agreement. "No, it didn't, did it? Nor did it work during the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff that year." Harry saw Cho's face fall a bit at the memory of Cedric and he hurried on. "But that was before I learned to conjure a Patronus, and it has worked for me a couple of times since then." Harry noticed shocked looks on many of the faces before him and was a bit confused. His close friends, of course knew about his driving off the group of Dementors at the end of his third year but the incident with the pair of Dementors coming for him and Dudley two summers ago was in the paper, they all should have heard of that.
"Do you mean you really have faced Dementors again?" came a tremulous question from a Ravenclaw girl he had never met.
Harry began to blush in discomfort. "Yeah, I've encountered them twice since I learned the Patronus Charm. The last time was the summer before this when I was charged with underage sorcery. You all should have read about that in the Prophet."
"You mean that really happened?" the Ravenclaw continued. "I mean, I thought that..."
"You thought that I just made it all up to try to get out of trouble?" Harry finished for her. Harry was mildly amused at the identical looks of outrage on the faces of Cho and Ginny. Those two having something in common, he mused. Who would have thought?
It was Zach Smith who came to the girl's rescue. "But if the Dementors were still under the Ministry's control then - they didn't defect to You-Know-Who until almost a year later - how did they come after you?" His tone held the same condescension that it had last year. "Are you implying that You-Know-Who has been in control of Azkaban all along?"
Harry looked at him calmly and replied, "Who?"
"What who?" Zach answered confused.
"Who were you talking about?"
"When?" Zach was looking around as if someone would explain things to him.
"A moment ago, you said that I would know who but I don't so I'm asking: who?" Harry was thoroughly enjoying Smith's bewilderment, and so were many others around the room.
"Oh!" Zach said finally. "You-Know-Who."
"No, I'm afraid I don't, so please tell me, who are you referring to?"
"You-Know-Who."
"No, I don't," Harry persisted. "Who?"
Zach was now a bright red as giggles began to spread across the room. He swallowed and half whispered, "He who must not be named."
"Oh!" Harry said with dawning understanding. "You mean Voldemort."
Zach hissed as Harry spoke the name. "Don't say that!"
"Why not?" Harry asked calmly.
"You're not supposed to, that's why."
"Why ever not?" Harry countered. "That's his name isn't it? Mister 'I wanna be a Lord' Voldemort?" Harry was pleased that many of the students were too busy smiling to shudder. That was a good sign at least. "But that's not his real name." Everyone grew quiet now. "His real name is Tom Riddle, or Tom Marvolo Riddle to be complete."
Zach opened his mouth to speak again but someone else cut him off. "Is that why you called him Tom before?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I found that out a few years ago, during all that 'Heir of Slytherin' nonsense." Harry deliberately avoided mentioning the Chamber and any of Ginny's involvement it the incident. "Tom Riddle was a student here at Hogwarts about fifty years ago, Head Boy in fact. You'll see his name on a plaque down in the trophy room. As he began to turn Dark, he decided he wanted a new name so that he wouldn't have to be reminded of his father." Harry glanced around and saw that they were all still confused, so he continued with the story. "Tom was born in a town called Little Hangleton, his mother was a witch by the name of Marvolo, the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and his dad was a Muggle named Tom Riddle. His full name is: Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry turned to the blackboard that hung behind his desk. With a wave of his wand a piece of chalk rose and spelled out the name. "Riddle the elder didn't know that his wife was a witch though; she hid it from him. She did finally tell him when she became pregnant and he abandoned her. I suppose she still cared for him, or at least held out some hope that he would acknowledge his own child, but he didn't. She died shortly after giving birth and naming the baby after his father. Tom grew up in a Muggle orphanage. He hated his father and decided to abandon his name." Harry again waved his wand at the blackboard and the 'T' written there blinked for a second before a second one appeared at the end of the line below. Then the 'o' blinked and a copy appeared near the center of the board, then, one by one, all the other letters of the name copied themselves and formed the sentence 'I am Lord Voldemort'. "And that is how Lord Voldemort got his name. And that's why I called him 'Tom'; it's his name. He really hates it when you do that, by the way. I heard Dumbledore call him that during their duel in the Ministry and he went absolutely spare. It's really quite funny to watch."
"But if his father was a Muggle then that would mean..." said the girl.
"That Voldemort is a half-blood - if that sort of thing matters to you." Harry was pleased to see that almost everyone was so occupied thinking about the ramifications of this that they forgot to wince at his use of the name. 'It's a start,' he thought to himself.
"But then..." Smith said.
Harry spoke again, taking control of the discussion to make sure that the points he wanted them to understand were made completely clear. "Exactly, the whole Pure-blood movement is being led by someone the Death Eaters would never even choose to associate with if they had the choice. Ironic, isn't it?"
"But then why would they follow him?"
"Because they don't know or they don't care. As long as they get to kill people and feel superior while doing it, they'll follow anybody. They're too wrapped up in their own hatred to see that they are being used by a lunatic who is too wrapped up in his own hatred of his father to care who he uses or hurts to get his revenge."
Harry looked at the thoughtful faces of the gathered students and supposed that he had given them enough to think for one night. "But we've gotten off the beam a bit here. Let's get back to the Patronus Charm. I know there are a couple of others here who can cast a corporeal Patronus. Would any of you like to show us?"
Hermione immediately hopped to her feet and with a shout her silver otter was cavorting around her, rolling up and down like a carousel horse. Cho got up next and cast her own swan Patronus. Ginny also tried and a broad cloud of silver mist appeared before her with no real shape. She looked crestfallen and Harry immediately drew everyone's attention away from her.
"Excellent! Really, very well done, all of you. That will be five points for Ravenclaw and ten to Gryffindor." He motioned everyone to stand up. "As you can see, the form a Patronus takes is unique to the individual but is always some sort of animal, one that embodies your own feelings of safety and protection. But even the unformed mist produced can be enough to push the Dementor away. Why don't we all practice the incantation, shall we? It's Expecto Patronum!"
Harry walked around the room until he was confident that all of the students knew the correct pronunciation before speaking again. "Ok, people. I think we all have the incantation down, but that isn't all there is to casting the charm. The real trick to producing a Patronus lies in selecting a memory, a happy memory. The memory you choose should make you feel happy, the happier the better. For homework..." There was a collective groan from everyone there, especially Ron. "Now don't worry, any written homework I give out would mean I would have to correct it and I'm not about to do any of that, I've got my own assignments to do, remember? For homework I want you all to think of a memory, the happiest memory you have, and next time we will try to actually cast the charm. You're all dismissed from your detention."
Everyone seemed pleased with the class as the happily chatting groups began to filter out of the classroom. Harry turned towards the desk to gather his own things when someone called out to him. He turned back to see Marietta and Cho standing near the door. He took a couple of steps towards them and saw Hermione herding Ron and Ginny out of the room. He was about to say something when Marietta walked up to him with her head bowed.
Harry looked at her for a moment then at Cho who nodded at him as if to prod him on. "Erm, you needed something, Marietta?" he asked finally.
Marietta shook her head. "I just wanted to say... I mean I wanted..." Suddenly she threw her arms around Harry awkwardly, pinning his own to his side. "Thank you," she whispered into his chest. Harry tried to pat her back but couldn't move his arms enough. Suddenly, as if she realized that Cho was watching her, Marietta released him with a vivid blush. Harry placed his hands on her arms.
"It's perfectly all right," he said. "I'm just glad that you decided to come back. That took a lot of courage." He smiled at her and said cheekily, "Perhaps you should have been a Gryffindor instead of a Ravenclaw."
Marietta giggled at this. "Oh, I don't think so," she said quietly. Then she threw her arms around him again and, to Harry's shock, kissed him on the cheek. "Cho's right about you. You are wonderful." Before Harry could react, she released him and fled the room. Cho beamed at him and, with a wave goodnight, followed her friend.
* * * * *
When Harry got back to the common room Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were there waiting for him. He explained about Marietta thanking him and he, in turn, thanked them for not causing her any more trouble.
Ron seemed about to make a comment when Hermione stopped him with a glare and said simply, "When?"
Harry looked at her for a moment before he understood that she was asking when he had changed his mind about Marietta. "Cho wrote me a letter the day after we got off the train last summer. She said she thought we needed to talk." Ginny was scowling at this but Harry didn't notice. "When we met, she apologized for what Marietta had done and explained that she thought that she was doing the right thing. It made me realize that that is all any of us can do: what we think is the right thing."
"But it wasn't the right thing, was it?" Ginny said acidly.
"No, it wasn't," Harry replied calmly, as if he hadn't heard the tone in her voice. "But given what she knew and what she thought at the time it was a reasonable guess." Harry looked them all straight in the eye. "Like I said before, she was tricked, just like I was, and how can I expect you guys, or Sirius, or anyone to forgive me my mistakes if I'm unwilling to forgive other people theirs?"
The four teens shifted uncomfortably in their seats for a moment until Harry changed the subject. "So, how do you guys think my teaching the Patronus Charm came off?"
"Shouldn't we have spent more time on duelling?" Ginny asked. Harry looked at her expression and he suddenly knew how much not being able to cast a full Patronus had embarrassed her. "After all, when we were at the Ministry last year that's what we did."
Ron began to nod his head but before he could say anything Harry cut him off. "Yeah, we did do a bit of fighting there, but that's a special case."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked him.
"How many of the rest of the students are likely to run off like that?" He looked down at the table in front of them, not wanting to meet any of their eyes. "You guys shouldn't even have been there."
"Stuff that!" Ginny snapped. "We went there to help you and we'd do it again, wouldn't we?" Ron nodded his agreement right away and a moment later Hermione did too.
"But that was because of me," Harry answered. "You guys are special. How many of the rest of the people here would have ridden Thestrals they couldn't even see all the way to London just to get into a battle with Death Eaters all on my mistaken ideas?"
"Neville and Luna did," Ginny said flatly.
Harry nodded his head slowly. "Yes, they did, didn't they? And I really appreciate it. You all don't know how much that meant to me, especially after it was all over. I never would have gotten out of there alive if you guys hadn't have been there with me."
Hermione reached out and patted his arm. "And none of us would have survived if it hadn't been for you."
"You wouldn't have been there at all if it hadn't been for me," Harry said morosely.
"Now don't you go starting that again, Harry Potter," Ginny scolded. "We've been over that territory quite enough as it is."
Harry gave her a weak grin and said, "You're right... again. But the point is that not too many of the other students are likely to get into those sorts of situations. No, Dumbledore and I agreed that Voldemort is much more likely to use the Dementors than his Death Eaters. He'll set them loose at random to try to terrorize people and keep them too afraid to take a stand against him."
"But the Patronus Charm is very advanced, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm not certain that many of us will be able to do it." Harry glanced over at Ginny and saw her pulling back, as if trying to hide.
"I disagree," he said sharply. "I learned to do it three years ago and if a thirteen-year old kid can do it than everyone ought to be able to."
"But it took you months of in-depth tuition before you could get it to work, Harry."
"Yeah, but it only took you and Cho a couple of weeks, working in secret, to get it right. And there were a lot of others who were really close to it. Look at Ginny! She's right there. A little more practice and she'll be able to cast a corporeal Patronus too!"
Ginny leaned forward again at this. "You really think that?" she asked.
Harry looked at her and smiled. "Of course. You're closer than anyone else in the class. It'll just take a bit more work and you'll have it down." Ginny seemed to swell at this, her gloom and embarrassment forgotten. "The problem is doing it in front of a real Dementor. When you're freezing cold and it's sapping every happy thought out of you. That's when it gets tough, but that's when you need to be able to do it. That's when it really counts."
Hermione frowned in thought. "But how will we be able to practice that in the DA? We can't just let a Dementor come strolling into class now can we?"
Harry was frowning in concentration. "No, definitely not that. But I was thinking that we could maybe get some sort of a cage, or something to contain it. That way it couldn't attack or escape but everyone could still feel the effects."
"What about using a Boggart?" Hermione suggested suddenly. "They turn into Dementors for you, don't they, Harry?"
"The last time I saw one they did," Harry answered. "But that was a couple of years ago. Things might have changed since then."
"But still it's a possibility."
"Yeah, it is. And I certainly felt the effects of a Dementor when the Boggart came close. Did any of you feel it?"
Hermione shook her head. "You took those lessons with Professor Lupin secretly, Harry. None of us even knew what you were learning."
Harry frowned and looked at the floor in defeat, until Ginny piped up and he snapped back up. "But Professor Lupin WAS there. He might have felt the effects, and if he did than everyone in the DA would as well. It wouldn't be nearly as dangerous as bringing in a real Dementor. It would only be a Boggart."
Harry was about to agree that it might work when Dean Thomas came over and leaned across the back of the couch they were sitting on to tap Ginny on the shoulder.
"Hey, Ginny," he said. "Wanna study or somethin'?"
Ginny didn't even turn around as she brushed his hand away. "Maybe later, we shouldn't be too much longer here."
Dean looked hurt as he replied, "Ok, I just thought that since you were busy all day that you might want to spend some time together. You know... to study."
"Like I said, maybe later. This is important."
Dean drew back his hand and whispered harshly, "Yeah, that's important. I'm just your boyfriend, I'm not important at all."
Ginny turned on him and snapped, "And just what is THAT supposed to mean?" Harry sensed that this was not going to be pleasant and began to look for a polite way to leave the two alone. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the prospect of the upcoming row immensely.
Dean glared back at her, "Just that if the DA is so bloody important to you, why don't you start dating it!"
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"I'm your boyfriend, aren't I?" Dean continued. "Or at least I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be important to you, and yet you spend all your time going on about the DA!"
"So that's what this is all about, is it? You're jealous!"
"No, I'm not," Dean answered defiantly. "I just don't think that you think that I'm important."
"I don't think that you're important? That's rich!" Ginny snarled. "After the way that you treat me!" This got Ron's attention, and not in a good way.
"The way I treat you???" Dean asked, completely flummoxed.
"Yeah, the way you treat me! What did you ask me just a minute ago, huh?"
"I asked if you wanted to go and study," Dean replied petulantly.
"STUDY!!" Ginny fairly screamed. "Like I was some sort of book-nosed swot! Do you just go out with me to improve your grades?"
"No, I didn't mean to go study, I just..."
"Just what?"
"Well, you brother's there and all..." Dean said, motioning vaguely towards Ron and looking like he wanted to crawl under one of the couches and hide. Ron, on the other hand, was grinning broadly.
"So what?! Who cares if my brother's here?"
"Well, you know how he is..."
Ginny looked at Dean with a mixture of disgust and pity that Harry had never seen on her before. "So that's really it, isn't it? You're more afraid of my brother than you are attracted to me?" Ron looked at Dean from behind Ginny's back and nodded slowly. Dean seemed to shrink even further.
"No, I'm not," he said softly.
"Then PROVE IT!" Ginny shouted.
"How?"
"You tapped me on the shoulder, remember? What did you really want if not to study, hmm?" Ginny snarled.
"I wanted to... you know."
"You want to go someplace and snog, is that it?"
Dean shrugged his shoulders and hung his head.
"Well?" Ginny followed. "Let's do it!" She walked around the couch and stood directly in front of Dean.
"Wha? You mean right now?"
Ginny stood straight and threw her arms out wide to her sides. "Yeah! Right here and right now!"
"In front of... everybody?"
"What? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?"
"No, Ginny, it's not that. It's just... you know."
"Yes, I do know," she said sadly. "You're afraid that Ron is going to beat you up if he sees us snogging. You are more afraid of him than you're attracted to me."
Dean's mouth started moving as he fought to explain, but no sounds came out. Ginny slowly lowered her hands and shook her head. "Some Gryffindor you are."
This comment brought Dean around. "Hey," he said loudly, "that's not fair."
This caused Ginny's anger to flare up again. "Not fair! NOT FAIR!! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S NOT FAIR! What's not fair is having a boyfriend who doesn't have the guts to stand up for himself, or for you! So I'll tell you what, Mr. Thomas, until you have enough backbone to prove to me, and to everyone else, that I'm important to you, YOU CAN JUST SOD OFF!!"
Ginny turned on Ron and continued. "And as for you, my dear brother, don't be so cocky as to think that you accomplished anything. The next bloke I pick won't give a tinker's dam what you or anyone else thinks!" With this, she stormed out of the portrait hole and away from Gryffindor Tower.
Disclaimer:
These stories are based on characters and situations created
and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited
to
Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner
Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Other citations will be made where necessary.
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