~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or profit from anything here within. Thanks to Jo Rowling who graciously permits us to tweak and play in HER world. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry left McGonagall's office feeling much better than he had in a long time. He made his way up the staircase to the seventh floor and followed the corridor to the Gryffindor common room. He gave the Fat Lady the password and went up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. When he reached his room he found that the sign on the door to his dorm already read Sixth Year Boys. It was hard for him to believe that he would be a sixth year student in about three weeks. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He changed clothes as quickly as possible and, grabbing his Firebolt, rushed down through the front gate of the castle and jogged to the Quidditch pitch. He was nearly shaking with excitement as he mounted his broom. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax for a moment before kicking off. A crash of excitement coursed through him as he felt the familiar surge of air as he quickly gained altitude.
Harry circled the pitch a couple of times, steadily increasing his velocity and keeping his senses attuned to any untoward vibrations the broom might have picked up due to its rough treatment while in Umbridge's possession. He reached the top speed of the broom on his second circuit and, deciding that there seemed to be no residual effects on the broom, launched himself straight up in the air as fast as the broom could carry him.
The broom hurled him like a Muggle rocket into the air. He felt the adrenaline pump as he pierced a cloud. Coming out through the topside, he was pleased to note that the Impervious Charm on his glasses repelled the moisture from the cloud. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same thing about the rest of him, as he was covered in a thin layer of moisture.
As he continued to gain altitude, he could feel the coolness of the droplets on him and. A biting cold feeling spread through his fingers, nose, and ears. Harry contemplated seeing just how far he could push it, but then thought better of it, knowing that if he passed out from going too high no one was there to stop his fall.
Harry stopped accelerating upward, slowed to a stop, and then began to drop backwards. After plummeting about three hundred feet backwards, he pulled hard on the broomstick and snapped one hundred eighty degrees to face straight down. The wind roared in his ears as he picked up speed. The mist on his body began to dry off, due to the force of the air rushing past him. He reached the cloud cover and crashed through, picking up another layer of moisture in the process.
The Quidditch Pitch was a small speck that was rapidly growing in front of him. He had finally reached the top velocity his fall would allow and considered accelerating, but decided not to press his luck on his first dive in nearly a year. The pitch kept growing in size and detail; he could now make out the various box stands that the guests and professors used whenever they watched a match.
Harry could make out the ring goals and the details of the banners of the fours houses that were draped across the top of the top boxes. The ground was coming into focus and rapidly approaching.
Still, Harry made no move to change direction or slow down.
The ground was coming at him like an impenetrable wall. He waited until he was about six metres above the pitch to pull up and will the broom to come out of the dive. He felt the force of gravity pushing him into the Cushioning Charm on the broom as the magic of the broom battled the force of gravity for mastery. His toes grazed the grass as he levelled out and shot down the length of the pitch like a bullet.
When he reached the end of the pitch, he let out a whoop of pure joy. Looping around and corkscrewing through the ring posts, he screamed for joy again before shooting toward the other end of the pitch. He wove in and out of the three rings at breakneck speed before shooting over the edge of the pitch and heading towards the lake.
Once over the lake, Harry began a series of advanced manoeuvres. He looped and corkscrewed his broom through various dives and climbs, often skimming the water with his trainers. Each time he finished a manoeuvre he couldn't help let loose a roar of delight. How I ever managed to make it last year without being able to fly I'll never know, he thought as he completed another complex pattern of figure eights while rolling his broom. Harry's heart was lighter than it had been in nearly two years.
For a moment, the memories of the graveyard at the end of the Triwizard Tournament and of Sirius falling through the veil threatened to come to the fore, but Harry quashed them down and focused on another Wronski Feint.
Harry finally noticed that the sun was at its apex and cast no shadows. He decided to make one more circuit of the lake before heading back to the pitch and then to the castle for lunch. He zipped around the lake at a speed that might have blistered his skin had there not been a charm on the broom that cooled the rider at high speeds. He was travelling barely a metre above the water and the force of him pushing through the air caused waves to crash up in his wake, almost as if he were a speedboat racing across the surface.
The hot August sun had turned the water on his face to beads of sweat dripping from his brow. He figured a couple of laps around the pitch would dry the sweat off before he knocked off for the day. He shot underneath the stands and did his first circuit while threading through the superstructure at blinding speed.
Coming out from under the stands, he quickly banked back over the pitch and started one last circuit. As he rolled around for a final pass, he glanced down at the end of the pitch and saw a flash of something.
It took a second for it to register, and for a moment, he was certain there was a giant black Grim sitting at the end of the pitch and watching him. He looked up and down fervently before realizing his mind must have been playing tricks on him.
I should have realized that I might react to this place, he thought bitterly. It seemed that being on his broom and flying over the pitch had jogged his memory about Sirius watching him play during his third year.
Harry carefully guided himself over to the Gryffindor box, hopped off his broom and sat down. He took a seat in the front row and gazed towards the corner where once his godfather had watched him play. As he set there, memories began to well up inside of him.
He remembered the first time he had ever seen Sirius. His godfather had been in his Animagus form. It was funny, in a way. Harry had thought his godfather was a ravenous beast who was preparing to attack him. His thoughts continued to a memory of Sirius allowing him to ask questions about the Order and Voldemort last summer, treating him as an adult or an equal.
He remembered Sirius seeing him off at Platform 9 3/4 last year and how much fun it had been to watch Sirius chase around like an overgrown puppy. With a smile, he thought of last Christmas and how happy Sirius had been that everyone was spending it with him at Grimmauld Place. It was one of the few times Harry could ever really remember seeing him happy.
It wasn't until he felt the first teardrop fall on his hand that Harry realized he was crying. He scrubbed at his face in frustration. I did my crying in June! Why can't I get control of myself? Harry felt himself growing angry at crying again. At least no one saw me, he thought with relief. After a few moments he was able to control his sobs and quash the feelings of despair.
Finally, a sense of calm washed over him. Sirius would never want me to spend my time crying over him, he thought. He wanted to be the kind of man that Sirius would be proud of, and he just couldn't see his godfather weeping over a lost loved one every time the odd memory hit him.
I can honour him best by living well. Harry wasn't sure where that thought came from; he figured it must have been something he had heard in primary school or from Dumbledore, at some point. It is good advice; I should follow it.
Harry spent the next hour considering how he could 'live life well'. He came to a few conclusions: He knew that, first and foremost, Sirius would want him to make sure he was preparing to face his destiny. If Dumbledore won't help me, I'll just have to do it myself.
Of course, Sirius would be very interested in Harry finding a girl to snog senseless. I might end up letting you down, there. Bitter thoughts welled up. Harry knew that he was unlucky in the matters of the heart. I reckon I don't have much talent in picking them.
Harry thought about his disastrous relationship with Cho. It was obvious to Harry, now, that their relationship had been doomed; they really hadn't known one another and their strongest bond was her dead boyfriend, Cedric Diggory. The truth was, Harry had never known much about her at all until they started spending time together at the DA meetings. He had envisioned her as someone who was daring and adventurous; he was quite shocked to find out that, in many ways, she was every bit as 'girly' as Parvati and Lavender.
Next time, I will choose someone I know and who I am friends with. Of course, that would mean finding a girl other than Hermione; that left a very short list, as there were only two witches that he was friends with other than Hermione: Luna and Ginny.
Harry snorted at the thought of Luna as a girlfriend. He had to admit that she was nice and friendly enough, but Harry wondered if she would even notice if she had a boyfriend. Luna almost always seemed to have a quality about her that made one wonder if she really knew where she was. Harry decided that unless there was a whole side of Luna that no one ever saw – one that didn't include Nargles and Snorkacks, he would probably never feel anything more for her than friendship.
When his thoughts turned to Ginny, he recalled the little girl that he had seen laughing and crying while she chased after the Hogwarts Express his first year. She's no longer that little girl, he thought ruefully. Somehow, Ginny had grown up while he wasn't paying attention. She was still petite; he doubted that she would ever be taller that she was now. She was almost pixie-like to behold. She had slender arms and legs and the thinnest of builds, but Harry had noticed her Quidditch robes hugging her in the wind last year, and she was definitely not a little girl. Harry paused at that. When did I start noticing Ginny Weasley?
With a sigh, Harry had to admit that Ginny had never been hard for him to look at. Her hair had always fascinated him, especially the way that it seemed to reflect all of the colours of an inferno. That inferno seemed to match her personality as well. How he ever could have thought of her as an awkward, shy little girl amazed him these days. She definitely wasn't afraid to speak to him, even when it came to telling him he was being a git.
She really came through for me last year, he thought. She had been there for him several times, including staying with him on the Hogwarts Express when he would have been lost without Ron and Hermione, even though she had a boyfriend waiting on her. Ginny had always tried to be nice to him whenever he was feeling down. She was really considerate to me after the Hufflepuff match last year. She didn't have to say that she knew I would be back at Seeker this year.
Unfortunately, Hermione's words were ringing in his ears even now, "Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him…" Well, I guess we can chalk that up to what might have been. Of course, had I been a better friend to her, I might have noticed her sooner. With that thought, Harry reassured himself that he would endeavour to be the kind of friend to her that Ginny had been to him; she was worthy of much better than what he had offered her before.
Harry stood up straight, lifted his head high, and began to make his way off of the Quidditch pitch and back towards the school. Thoughts of ways he could prove himself a better friend to Ron, Hermione, and especially Ginny whirled through his mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry had just entered the entrance hall to the castle when a blur with bushy brown hair collided with him. The air was being squeezed from his lungs as the figure crushed the life out of him. He had been trying to gasp out a greeting when he saw two familiar redheads smiling at him as he gazed over the hair. Tentatively, he returned the hug and patted his attacker, whom he was pretty sure was Hermione, on the back. Around the time his ribs began aching, Ron finally interrupted. "Hermione, you might want to step back and give him a chance to breathe," he said with a grin as he approached. "Besides, other people might want to say hello to him before you suffocate him."
Hermione jumped back with a little yelp. Her face lit up in a way that would do a Weasley proud. She sputtered a few times as she tried to find her voice before finally spilling out, "Sorry, Harry, it's just so good to see you."
As Ron thumped him on the back, Harry took in Hermione's appearance. Her eyes were glistening as if she was holding in tears, and she had slight shadows under her eyes as if she hadn't been sleeping well. She also seemed a bit thinner than Harry had remembered, but he just ascribed that up to his lack of paying attention before.
"So, mate, how are you feeling?" Ron asked. "We were just heading down to the pitch to find you when you walked in." He still had the grin on his face. Harry glanced at him and noticed that he also had a tired look to his eyes, something Harry had never seen before. He obviously had grown another couple of inches since they had last been together, forcing Harry to tilt his head back to look him in the eye.
Harry wondered if the tired look in the eyes of his two best friends were due to their worrying over him while he was missing. He nodded to Ron. "Better, I feel a lot better than I did at the end of term." He noticed that Hermione seemed ready to say something but was holding herself back. He really didn't want to get into a discussion about Sirius at this point, so he began to look for a distraction.
He found it standing tentatively away from the three of them. Ginny was watching them with an expression that indicated that she wasn't sure she would be welcome. Well, it was time to take first step in being a better friend. Feeling strangely reckless, he walked over to Ginny and gave her a quick arm around her shoulders. "How are you doing, Ginny?" he asked as he stepped back from her.
"I'm doing fine, Harry; we're more concerned about you." Harry noted that she didn't seem to be affected by his hug in the slightest. A couple of years ago Ginny would most likely have been blushing brilliantly and stammering through her words — if she had even spoken, that is. For some reason, Harry felt a sense of loss that she hadn't blushed, but quickly shook it away.
"I'm sorry, guys," he responded. "Believe me, I didn't plan on being gone." He shook his head apologetically at the thought. He imagined how he would have felt if one of them have been missing. He realized that he would have most likely worried himself sick.
"Harry," Hermione asked apprehensively. "Where, exactly, have you been the past eight weeks? They wouldn't tell us anything." She had a nervous look about her and was chewing her bottom lip as if she expected him to explode.
Am I actually that intimidating? Harry was surprised to realize that Hermione was afraid of his response. I need to reign in this temper of mine, he thought mournfully. He responded honestly, "Hermione, I really don't know where I've been the last eight weeks. I remember arriving at Privet Drive and beginning to unpack, and then the next thing I knew, I woke up this morning to an abandoned house."
He watched her expressions shift rapidly as she digested this information. "So, you are saying that you've had some sort of Memory Charm placed on you?"
"Apparently," he paused as he considered his words. "I guess it would bother me more if I were showing some type of effect from it." He moved towards the stairs that would take them down to the kitchens before adding, "Come on - I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day."
The others followed him, oddly quiet. They passed down into the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff common room and they continued on until they came to the portrait of a bowl of fruit. He reached out and tickled the pear until it giggled and turned into a doorknob. He grasped the knob and opened the door.
A small blur rocketed into Harry's knees as he entered the kitchen, nearly bowling him over. He bent over and began the process of trying to pry off the house elf, still clutching his knees. After about a minute of struggling, Harry was able to pry Dobby loose, much to the delight of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.
"Oh, Harry Potter, sir, it is so good to be seeing you," the excited elf began, hopping from one sock covered foot to the other. For once, Dobby seemed to have coordinated his colours a bit. He was wearing primarily Gryffindor colours, with one burgundy sock and one gold. He had on burgundy shorts and a gold shirt. The burgundy and gold motif was broken by the bright green hat he was wearing, obviously one of Hermione's creations, which seemed almost to glow.
"Oh, Mr. Harry Potter has brought his Wheezy and his girlfriends with him," Dobby said. At this statement, Harry felt his ears heat up and heard Ron let out a choked cough. He glanced at Hermione and Ginny to note both were covering their mouths trying to suppress giggles.
Thanks for the backup guys! "Uh, Dobby, these are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley," Harry interrupted. "We missed lunch and were wondering if there was any way we could get something small to eat."
"Of course, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is always happy to be serving such a great wizard as yourself, and your Wheezys and your Hemoninny." With that, the diminutive elf snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Still feeling heat in his cheeks and ears, Harry turned to motion the others to follow him to the small table next to the fireplace. Before he could open his mouth to ask them to precede him, Ginny caught his attention. She was looking around with amazement. Harry did a double take because he reckoned that she would have found her way down here before.
"Ginny," he inquired, "haven't you ever been in here before? I reckoned, for sure, Fred and George would have let you know about it."
She whipped her head around, her mouth held in a tight smile. "No, apparently my brothers have been holding out on me," she said, glancing over at Ron. "You would think that at least one of my brothers would have cared enough to tell me how to get to the kitchens."
Ron was looking at her oddly. "What do you mean, Gin?" he said, truly puzzled. "You've been to the kitchens with us before, haven't you?"
"No, my dear brother. Apparently, sneaking off to nick food from the kitchens is an adventure reserved only for you and your friends."
Harry saw this as an opening to try to rectify his four years of indifference. "Ginny, I, for one, am sorry that we never thought to include you." He paused for a moment, pondering his next words, before plunging ahead. "I hope that from now on, you'll consider it an open invitation to join us whenever we are on one of our adventures."
Ginny appeared to be in total shock. Have I really been that bad? Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as his shame washed over him. No wonder she got over me.
He glanced at Hermione, who was giving him a calculating look before she interjected, "Harry's correct, Ginny, we should have included you more. I agree with Harry, you have an open invitation to join us, although, I dare say that we won't be getting up to anything more than the occasional jaunt to the kitchens," she said, looking at Harry meaningfully.
Bloody Hell! Harry thought furiously. I hope she didn't think that I was implying that we go off on another half-baked adventure like the one at the Ministry that I led us on. Still, Harry knew she had been right. Had he listened to her, for once, instead of bulling his way ahead, Sirius might be alive. With an effort, Harry pushed his rising temper into check.
Ron, however, wasn't going to let the statement pass. "Blimey, Hermione, it's not like we go looking for trouble - it just sort of finds us. I'm upset you would even think that I'd try to get my sister into a situation where she could get into trouble."
Hermione's retort was cut off by Dobby arriving with a tray laden with sandwich fixings and crisps. Behind him, wearing her usual dingy skirt and blouse, came Winky, carrying a tray with a pitcher of pumpkin juice and four goblets.
"Dobby and Winky are bringing Mr. Harry Potter, sir, food as he has requested. If it isn't enough, please be feeling free to ask for more or for something else. Whatever Harry Potter wants, Dobby will be getting." The elf seemed ready to burst in his enthusiasm. Ron was about to ask for something when he let out a yelp as Hermione stomped his foot. He glared at her as he gingerly rubbed his foot.
Harry headed off any further arguments by simply responding, "Thank you, and Dobby, you've done a wonderful job, and I don't believe there is anything we could want that you haven't already thought of." As he said this, he gave a meaningful look at Ron, daring him to contradict.
Harry hadn't been prepared for the house-elf's response. Dobby's bulbous eyes welled up, his lips quivering, and then he sprang forward and wrapped himself around Harry's right leg and began wailing, "Oh, Harry Potter has just made Dobby the most happiest house-elf in the whole world! He is such a good and powerful wizard, and yet he is taking the time to make notice of the feeble efforts of such an house-elf as Dobby."
Harry was stunned speechless by Dobby's outburst. He looked around the table for help in how to handle the situation — and found none. Ron was clutching his sides as he fought hard to not break out in loud guffaws. Hermione simply held a bright smile as she nodded approvingly at Harry. Ginny had covered her mouth with her hands, but the bright redness of her cheeks gave away the fact that she was fighting hard to suppress her laughter. Harry suddenly wished she would cut loose so he could hear it. Where did that thought come from? I've had a long day, he thought.
Seeing that he wasn't going to receive any help from his so-called friends, Harry tried to placate Dobby as best he could. "Erm…Dobby, really, you did quite well, and it's not anything to get all worked up about. You always do a good job." Apparently this wasn't the way to calm the house-elf, as his wails only became louder. "Um…Dobby, weren't you doing something before we interrupted you? I would hate to cause you not to perform all of you duties."
That, apparently, was the right thing to say, as Dobby seemed to calm immediately. With a loud sniff, he gazed at Harry with loving eyes and responded, "Of course, Dobby does have duties to execute. Harry Potter is always looking out for and taking care of Dobby. Dobby is so lucky to have a great Wizard like Harry Potter, who is looking out for him." With that, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry turned his attention to the others. Ron was in the process of building the single, largest sandwich Harry had ever witnessed. Stacked between two slices of bread he could make out slices of ham, turkey, salami, and at least two other meats, as well as four or five slices of various cheeses. There was a leaf of lettuce and a slice of tomato and, judging by the knives lying around him, he had spread both mayonnaise and mustard onto the bread slices. With a sigh of contentment, he bit into the sandwich, much to the astonishment of Hermione, who was gaping at him.
As Hermione began to admonish him to chew with his mouth closed Ron responded in turn, his mouth full of sandwich, as to what the big deal was. Harry rolled his eyes as he saw the beginnings of another minor battle beginning and decided to build his own sandwich.
By the time Harry had stacked his own sandwich and taken a bite, Ron and Hermione were going at one another in hushed whispers. While somewhat unusual for them, Harry decided it was better than their typical screaming when they got really worked up. Still, he decided to not get himself into the middle of their disagreement, which seemed to have moved beyond simply Ron's manners, and decided to use their distraction as an opportunity to talk to Ginny.
He turned to her and waited until she was between bites. "So, um…Ginny, what have you been doing all summer?" He figured it was a safe topic to start with. He didn't want to start prying into her darkest, deepest secrets, nor did he want to risk the conversation turning back towards Sirius, about whom he just wasn't ready to talk about … to anyone.
She gave him an odd look, and Harry imagined she must have been wondering if he was really interested in her answer or if he was just looking for a distraction from the whispered row across the table. Apparently she reckoned whatever she saw in Harry's expression was genuine, because she answered him.
"Well, Ron and I have been working in the twins' shop in Diagon Alley every day," she said. "It's actually rather fun, especially on days when Fred and George trick Ron into testing some of their new products. The money they've been paying us will certainly come in handy when we get back to school."
Harry sat there, entranced by her soft voice. He remembered, with humour, about Ron's comment the first summer he had stayed at the Burrow regarding Ginny: "She never shuts up, normally …" At the time, he had thought that Ron had been merely exaggerating. Today, however, he realized that she really was a lively chatterbox. They began bantering back and forth in between bites and she brought him up to date on the twins' latest invention, Discourteous Quills. One could write with them in the usual manner, but later, when anyone read what had been written, the letters and words would be rearranged into various rude remarks and insults.
She mentioned that business had been booming for all the shops in Diagon Alley, despite the news that Voldemort was back and the Dementors had left Azkaban. He asked her about the latest news about Voldemort, and she informed him that, as far as she knew, he'd been strangely quiet. She told him about what she'd read in the Daily Prophet and about the bits and pieces she had put together from eavesdropping on her mum and dad and from the Order members who happened to come by the Burrow.
Harry thought about this for a moment. "Do you suppose he needs to recover after the fight in the Ministry? I mean, all of the Death Eaters who were there were captured, except Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry felt a momentary twinge of anger as he mentioned the hated woman's name. "He probably needs time to regroup his followers, maybe try to recruit some new Death Eaters. Nearly one-third of them were captured that night."
Ginny pondered that for a moment. "Actually," she said, toying with her plate, "from what I've overheard from Mum and Dad, the Order suspects that You-Know-Who has been too busy trying to find out what happened to you this summer."
A flood of guilt washed over Harry. He hated causing anyone to worry. Unfortunately, as far as he knew, there was nothing that could have prevented what had happened to him. "Ginny, I really hate that all of you were upset about me this summer. I wish I knew what happened to me, but to me, it seems it was only yesterday when we arrived at King's Cross Station. I don't remember a bloody thing."
"It's OK, Harry; everyone will be happy just to know that you are back and safe. It really was different at the Burrow when we didn't know what had happened to you." She hesitated, as if considering her next words, "Ron hasn't been the same all summer — today is the only day I've seen him eat like he used to. We don't know if it was your disappearance that's been troubling him, or if it has something to do with that brain from the Department of Mysteries."
Harry's face darkened, and Ginny plunged on ahead, full steam. "Harry, really this isn't your fault," she said. "Mum, Dad, and the rest of us would have been going just as spare if it had been any of us or Hermione. Please, don't act strangely because you feel like somehow you've caused this."
How did she do that? Harry wondered. She knew exactly what I was thinking and knew just what to say to me. Ginny Weasley, Harry was realizing, was an enigma to him. She obviously knew him much better than he knew her, and it was a situation he was going to rectify.
"All right, Ginny, I'll try not to let things get to me," he said, chosing his next words carefully. "But, please, let me have space when I need it. It's just natural for me to take time to process the things that happen to me, and I'm still working some things out about what happened that night."
"OK, Harry, I do my best, and I'll even try to head off those troublesome twits I have for brothers." She said the last bit with a bit more volume, which caught the attention of the arguing couple.
"Oi, Ginny, what are you on about?" Ron seemed to be more than a little bit upset and, for once was perfectly willing to engage his sister in an argument. Hermione was just looking at Ginny, her expression alternating between gratitude for distracting Ron and anger at having been interrupted.
"Look, Ron," Harry spoke evenly. "Ginny was just trying to bring me up to date on what's been going on while I've apparently been gone." Ron appeared to be a bit embarrassed out his outburst, as the tips of his ears had turned red.
"Er…um…yeah, sorry, Gin." Ron seemed genuinely remorseful, and with that, the fire that had ignited Ginny's eyes seemed to fizzle out.
Hermione, seeing a chance to steer the conversation away from conflict, took the opportunity to change the subject. "So, Harry, did you get your OWL results?"
Harry actually found himself looking forward to sharing his results with Ron and Hermione. Admittedly, if he'd done as poorly as he'd expected, he wouldn't have wanted to tell them, but he thought even Hermione couldn't criticize his performance, too much. "Nine – I even got an 'O' in Potions."
"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione said, excitedly. "I had eleven, of course, with an 'O' in everything, which is great because I was really worried about my Arithmancy OWL and my Astronomy scores, until I got my letter…" Hermione looked ready to become wound up for a long rant on how she didn't think she had done as well on her exams as she did and start to analyze what she thought she had done wrong on each of them.
Harry expertly headed her off. "So, Ron, how did you do?" he said, hoping that this would be enough to keep her from trying to get them to relive the experience of sitting for their OWL exams.
"Oh, I did pretty good; I got eight OWLs. I really botched the practical part on Divination and ended up with a 'P', but did fine on everything else." Ron paused for a moment and then continued. "I also got into NEWT-level Potions; so few people got an 'O' that Snape was forced to take those students who scored an 'E', and so I'll be in there with you two."
Harry couldn't imagine going to class without either Ron or Hermione in the class. "So what classes did you guys sign up for?"
Ron answered first, continuing to eat. "Well, I signed up for History, because we have to. I chose to continue in NEWT-level Charms, Defence, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Potions. I only need five NEWTS to qualify as an Auror, and I reckon that the fewer classes I take, the better my chances of doing well in the ones I need."
That sounded reasonable to Harry; it would mean they wouldn't have Herbology together and perhaps he should consider dropping it. Hermione interrupted his ruminations to list her classes as well.
"Well, since I didn't want to narrow my options, I just signed up for the NEWT-level for all my subjects. It shouldn't be too hard; it's a shame that you and Ron never took Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, because then you could have more options later, if you decide not to become Aurors."
Ron guffawed. "Hermione, good grief! we chose our electives over three years ago. Can't you just let it rest?" At that, Harry's oldest two friends were off again into their bickering. Harry thought about intervening for a moment, but then thought that they might start to try to get him to start talking about Sirius or about the night at the Ministry, so he just let them be.
Turning to Ginny, who was daintily munching at some crisps, he decided to find out more about her. "So…Ginny, I know I should probably already know this, but what classes are you signed up for?"
Ginny gave Harry an odd look for a moment, and suddenly, he was worried that he had been too nosy. She answered him anyway. "Well, I've got the core classes: Astronomy, Charms, Defence, Herbology, History, Potions, and Transfiguration. I'm taking Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures as my electives. I've been interested in Ancient Runes ever since Bill became a curse-breaker for Gringotts, and I've always liked animals, like Charlie."
Harry was impressed. He knew that Ancient Runes was a tough subject from occasionally glancing at Hermione's textbooks and homework. Apparently, Ginny was as bright as her older brothers, Bill and Percy. Good thing she doesn't act like Percy, though. Actually, the more Harry thought about it, Ginny seemed to have a lot of the better qualities of her brothers without too many of the negatives.
It was dawning on Harry that there was quite a bit to Ginny that he had never noticed. Every time he learned something new about her, she impressed him. He thought back to the first time she had really impressed him, which was when she had flown in his Seeker spot for the first time against Hufflepuff. In his mind, she quite possibly was the best Seeker at Hogwarts, next to him, of course. Even then, he wondered if he could beat her if they had equivalent brooms.
This reminded him of getting the Captaincy, and he realized that he had knocked her out of her spot on the team. "Ginny, are you planning on trying out for Chaser this year?"
"Well, I plan to, if they've lifted your Quidditch ban. I mean, you are the best Seeker at Hogwarts, so it's only natural the captain will want you back." She seemed to be a bit hesitant to mention the Quidditch ban, but unlike Ron, she didn't beat around the bush or not mention it.
"Well, I have it on good authority that the new Quidditch Captain definitely expects you to try out for Chaser and will want to keep you on as Reserve Seeker," he replied with a grin.
A grin formed on her face. "So, the ban has been lifted, then? That's really great, Harry! I know it was hard for you to not be able to play last year. We'll have to wait to see who the Captain is, before we make any guarantees about me being on the team, though."
Harry grinned at her cheekily and responded, "My first official act as the Gryffindor House Quidditch team Captain is to request that you try out for the position of Chaser and offer you the position of Reserve Seeker."
It took a moment for his statement to register for her, and then her face radiated a smile that rivalled the sun for warmth. She let out a squeal of delight and crushed him into a hug. "That's wonderful, Harry! I knew you would get it!"
Her response was loud enough to interrupt Ron and Hermione's bickering.
"Get what?" Ron asked sharply, giving Harry an odd look as Ginny's arms were still clinging around his neck. It was then Harry realized he had automatically wrapped his arms around her waist.
As Ginny became aware of what they must have looked like, she blushed furiously and quickly stepped away from him. She turned to Ron and Hermione and burst out, "Harry was named Quidditch Captain — his ban is lifted! Isn't that wonderful?"
Harry was standing there almost stunned, wondering why he suddenly felt empty, when Hermione once again crushed him into a hug. "Oh, Harry, that is wonderful," she said into his shoulder. "I know you were miserable last year not being able to play."
Harry barely heard her. He was marvelling at how different it felt to be hugged by Hermione as opposed to Ginny. Being hugged by Ginny hadn't made him feel uncomfortable, but he had felt a warm sensation wash over him. He wondered at her blush — she hadn't blushed around him in over a year. Why would she be blushing about hugging me? Then it hit him: She just doesn't want anyone to think that she might still fancy me when she was supposed to be over me.
For some reason that line of thought didn't make him feel very well.
Hermione finally released him and Harry heard Ron's comment of, "Yeah, Harry … that's great." Ron was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. He walked over and shook Harry's hand. "So when are you going to hold tryouts?"
Harry was puzzled by Ron's reaction. It was almost as if he wasn't happy that he had gotten the Captaincy. His thoughts were interrupted by a 'pop' as Dobby reappeared. "Harry Potter, sir," the little elf said. "Professor Dumbledore has sent Dobby to tell Harry Potter that your Wheezys' mother is here to take them and your Hemoninny back home. He is requesting that you all make your way to the Entrance Hall."
Harry was quite disappointed at the news. He had hoped to spend the rest of the day with his friends. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had felt better being with the three of them since Sirius had died. He was afraid that Professor Dumbledore was going to ship him back to Privet Drive, or worse, to Grimmauld Place.
Mostly, Harry was afraid he wouldn't get to see his friends again until the first of September.
"Erm…well…okay." He didn't know what to say. "Dobby, tell them we are on our way now," he said, awkwardly.
They stepped to the door and headed out into the corridor. As they made their way to the stairs, Harry couldn't help but feel his mood darken. Just one bloody hour! I've been missing for eight weeks, and I only get to see my friends for one bloody hour?!
His thoughts were interrupted when he ran into Ron. Ron had stopped and was gaping at a portrait on their right.
"What the bloody hell?" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron!" Hermione sounded scandalized. "Watch your language. You're a prefect and … eep!" Hermione's tirade cut off as she saw what Ron was looking at. Ginny was watching as well, and Harry could detect the redness on the tips of her ears.
Harry turned to gaze at the painting and his jaw dropped. The portrait depicted some long ago battle between English soldiers and Scottish Highlanders. The action that currently kept repeating was an arrow volley being launched by the English against the Scots. The Highlanders, many painted up in Celtic Woad blue, responded by ducking behind a curtain of shields. They then responded by presenting their backsides to the English army, hiking their kilts up, and letting out a series of taunts and jeers.
Finally, he returned to his senses, and he grabbed Ginny by the arm and dragged her away. "Um…guys, we uh…really need to hurry up," he said. "They are waiting for us in the Entrance Hall."
Ron and Hermione finally were able to drag their eyes from the portrait and followed. Harry realized he still had hold of Ginny's arm and dropped it suddenly, feeling his face heat up. She fortunately either hadn't noticed or chose not to comment on it.
They made their way to the stairway and began climbing up to the Entrance Hall. Once they reached the top of the stairs, Harry had his ribs nearly bruised from an excited hug — for the third time that day. From the red hair beneath his chin Harry knew it was Molly Weasley. He tentatively hugged her back before trying to pry her loose.
Ginny, seeing his discomfort, intervened. "Mum, let Harry go so he can breathe," she said, her eyes twinkling with delight as her mother jumped back and began examining him for injuries. Ginny let loose with a melodious laugh, one that had Harry wishing he could always be the cause of such a laugh.
Mrs. Weasley grinned sheepishly at Harry before speaking. "Harry, I've spoken with Dumbledore and he says you need to stay here for the night, but tomorrow the wards should all be in place and you will be spending the rest of the summer with us at the Burrow."
At that, Harry felt his mouth twitching up into a genuine smile. I'm staying at the Burrow! His thoughts raced with all the ramifications. She said they had to complete the wards. Dumbledore wouldn't let me go there unless he was positive it was safe. His only objection was that his being there would put the Weasleys in danger; he would discuss that with Dumbledore later that evening.
He quickly thumped Ron on the back, hugged Hermione, gave Ginny a brief hug. He bade them all a fond farewell, promising to see Ron and Ginny the next day. Mrs. Weasley pulled an old wooden spoon from her purse and had the three others place their fingers on it. She whispered the word "Home," and the four swirled away.
Harry sighed, wishing he could go with them right away, but he realized he was lucky to be able to go at all. He decided that he would try to track down Madam Hooch and book the pitch now, so it would be one less thing to worry about when school started. With thoughts of flying and Quidditch, Harry made his way to the main staircase to seek her out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry found Madam Hooch in her office not long after the others had left. It only took a quick conversation to book the Quidditch pitch for the House team tryouts for the first Saturday of the term. He also scheduled Gryffindor practices for Tuesday evenings after dinner, late Thursday evenings, and early Saturday mornings. He was quite pleased with himself for getting organizational details taken care of so soon.
He went back to Gryffindor Tower where he spent the next hour servicing and polishing his Firebolt. He felt particularly edgy afterward and started in on the homework assignments that had been included in his Hogwarts letter. After about two hours of gruelling work, he had completed a two-foot essay on conjuring inanimate objects for Transfiguration. He planned to spend his evening after supper working on his Potions homework: a four-foot essay on the composition, methodology, and uses of various medicinal herbs in healing potions. Giving himself a reward for working so hard, he flipped through the Gryffindor House team playbook until supper.
When suppertime finally arrived, he made his way down to the Great Hall to find that instead of house and staff tables there was just one table sitting in the centre of the room. The only faculty members seated were Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.
During supper, Harry listened intently as Professor Dumbledore regaled them of tales of the various summer travels he had undertaken until he had been promoted from Professor to Headmaster. As Harry listened to the fanciful tales of far off places, he found that a yearning was growing within him to someday be able to travel and see the world, much the way the Headmaster had. Towards the end of the meal, Dumbledore turned to Harry and said, "Mr. Potter, would you care to join me in my office after supper? The two of us have several things to discuss."
Harry nodded his head and when Professor Dumbledore stood to leave, Harry bid Professor McGonagall a quick farewell and followed after him. They climbed the master staircase until they reached the second floor and then followed the winding passages and corridors until they reached the statue of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
Dumbledore uttered the password, "Skittles," and the gargoyle hopped out of the way. As the staircase began revolving upward, Dumbledore stepped forward to ride the stairs up, and Harry stepped on, just a couple of steps behind him. Reaching the top, Harry heard the sounds of many voices debating from behind the closed door to the office.
The door opened and the voices went silent, only to be replaced by the sounds of snoring and snoozing. Harry thought it was extremely curious that the portraits apparently debated among themselves whenever the Headmaster wasn't present in his office. He also wondered why they usually pretended to be asleep whenever a guest entered.
Dumbledore moved behind his desk and motioned for Harry to take one of the chairs before it. Harry noted, with interest, that it appeared at least some of the instruments he had destroyed in June had been replaced, but not all of them. He felt his face heat up with shame at his actions of that night. "Er…um…Professor?" he said, fidgeting. "I really feel bad about destroying all of your things that night. I would be willing to pay for any replacements."
"Nonsense, Harry," the headmaster said, waving his hand at the shelves surrounding them. "The only reason that I have not replaced all of the objects from before is that I am only replacing them as I find need of them. Believe me, there is no need for you to bother with recompensing me for them. Had I not given you a reason to destroy them, which was much justified I would say, I believe that you would have never done so."
Harry simply marvelled at Dumbledore's ability to simply shrug off the loss of the items as if they were water under the bridge.
"Now, Harry … the reason I wanted to talk to you is to get your input about how you think we should begin preparing you to face your destiny."
Harry was stunned. Dumbledore was actually asking for his input on how to run his life. This was certainly a first.
Dumbledore continued without missing a beat. "I do think that it is imperative that we begin as soon as possible … and that we keep the nature of what you are doing secret from as many people as possible."
Harry instantly agreed with that sentiment. He didn't want to have to explain to Ron and Hermione what and why he was doing what he was doing.
"Also, we don't want to take a chance that word of your preparations would leak back to Voldemort. The less prepared he believes you are, the more time we have to actually prepare."
That statement caught Harry's attention. "Professor," he said, worriedly," if Voldemort isn't concerned with me, then won't that mean he will be harming innocents?" Harry hated the thought of anyone being hurt or dying because he was taking too long to fulfil the prophecy.
Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, unfortunately you are not ready to face him now, and I imagine it will be at least two or three years before you are ready." Harry bristled a bit at this news. "The best we can do is try to contain him and his Death Eaters until you are ready. Harry, I and everyone close to you don't just want a resolution to this matter … we want you to win."
A warm feeling washed over Harry at this statement, which he didn't understand. He cleared his throat. "Professor you said 'we' — who else beside you and me know what the prophecy says?" The faces of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley passed through his mind followed quickly by that of Professor Lupin. If any of them knew the prophecy, it would put them in great danger and might cause them to treat him like a fragile piece of glass.
"Harry, the only people other than me that know anything about the prophecy are Professors McGonagall and Snape, and I suspect that Sirius might have shared what he knew about it with Remus Lupin. " Harry's expression darkened at the mention of Snape's name. "However, no one other than you and I are aware of the total contents of the prophecy. The other three only know the part that Voldemort knows: that you have the power to defeat him and not that only you are destined to defeat him or be killed by him."
Harry spoke evenly and tensely. "Why did you feel it necessary to tell Snape anything? You may trust him … but I don't – not one bit." He could feel anger growing inside him and could literally feel energy tingling throughout his body.
Serenely, the aged headmaster replied, "Actually, I never told Professor Snape anything about the prophecy. Voldemort told him after the debacle in the graveyard two years ago. Professor Snape is supposed to be looking for information about the prophecy, hoping either you or I slip up and reveal our knowledge."
Harry felt himself calming rapidly and the tingling he had felt fizzled out with a bit of a pop. "Well, Professor, I have one request: I don't want Professor Snape to have anything to do with my Occlumency training. I don't want to take the chance of him accidentally stumbling across that information in my head. He may be a master Occlumens, but he can't accidentally reveal information he doesn't know."
Dumbledore nodded. "I agree; I have made arrangements for an Occlumency tutor for you this year, although, for cover purposes, if any of your friends ask, you will be meeting with me for your Occlumency training." This started the wheels turning in Harry's head, trying to guess who his 'tutor' might be.
"OK, Professor, that takes care of the Occlumency to protect my mind, but how am I supposed to defeat him? What is this power I have, the one locked in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry had actually wondered about that a bit at the end of the term. He had been unable to come up with any ideas about the nature of this power.
"Actually, I do know what this power is, or at least I am fairly certain that I know what it is," Dumbledore said seriously, and then paused. Harry suddenly had the feeling he wasn't going to like the Headmaster's answer. "Because of the nature of this power, I'm afraid you are going to have to find it yourself. If I tell you what it is, I can see you potentially trying to force things in a rush to face Voldemort and not actually be prepared. You have great quantities of this power within you, but you don't fully comprehend it and haven't fully developed it, yet."
Harry was correct. He didn't like the answer, but he was pretty sure that it was the best he was going to get from the Headmaster. But that led him to another thought, one that he voiced to the Headmaster. "Professor, if I don't know what my power is, then how am I supposed to be training?"
"Well, your power, such as it is, will actually fuel your magic once you unlock it. The training I'm planning for you will just help you to be able to better defend yourself. Remember, it is most likely that you will have to fight your way through Voldemort's Death Eaters to get to him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the confused expression on Harry's face.
"I need to also let you in on some knowledge that usually is well known by wizards and witches your age, but that you may not be aware of, given your home environment." Harry raised his eyebrows at this statement — it seemed Dumbledore was going to give some straight information for once.
The Headmaster smiled and continued, "You are aware that all children, Muggle and magical, have a physical growth spurt when they are in their adolescence. You, yourself, have grown nearly a half a foot in the last two years alone." The fact that the Headmaster had noticed something he had barely acknowledged to himself was surprising at first, but then Harry realized that Dumbledore had been keeping a much closer eye on him since Voldemort's return than anyone knew. The Professor continued, "Magical children also undergo a magical growth spurt that usually begins around age fifteen and continues until their seventeenth or eighteenth birthday."
This was news to Harry, but then again, he had become used to not knowing things that everyone else took for granted in the Magical World. So, I'm due to have an increase in power, now.
His thoughts were interrupted as Dumbledore continued, "We need to keep a close eye on you for the next couple of years. Your power at the age of thirteen was beyond that of many adult wizards, and you already began increasing your power level all last year. I predict that your power level by the time you finish here at Hogwarts will rival my own — and if you are able to learn to tap into your power that Tom does not have, you will exceed mine."
Harry was stunned. Rival Dumbledore in power? There was no way that he, Harry James Potter, would ever rival Dumbledore for power. He felt his heart rate accelerating as he felt the pressure building up.
He looked to see the concerned look on the Headmaster's face. "I see you are having trouble believing me. Do you realize that only one out of ten adult wizards or witches are ever able to cast a Patronus Charm? Furthermore, it is a NEWT Level spell, and before you and your Defence Association, no one had ever cast a corporeal Patronus below the age of fifteen." He paused. "I know that you hate hearing this … but you are a very powerful wizard and will possibly be known as one of the most powerful ever."
There it was; someone had actually said it; he would never be 'normal.' The one thing he had desired for as long as he remembered would forever be denied him. Ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts, other than Quidditch, he had done as little as possible to make himself stand out from his peers. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to stick out. It seemed to be his destiny.
He took a deep breath, Well, at least now that it is out in the open, I can just deal with it. His mind began whirling with all the things he would need to do. If he couldn't be normal and if he had a death sentence hanging over his head, he needed to change the way he did things from now on.
Once again, the Headmaster interrupted his train of thought, "About your training, allow me to present what I have been able to put together and see if it meets with your approval."
Harry gave the Headmaster his full attention. "Before you leave tomorrow, I'll be giving you a reusable Portkey. It will activate each morning at 6:00 am and take you to a hidden location where my brother Aberforth will be teaching you Occlumency and meditation techniques. His companion, Miss Bristol, will be training you in a modified version of martial arts that has been adapted to incorporate magical duelling into it. You will also be physically conditioning yourself. Your lessons will continue until 11:00 am, at which point you will have the rest of the day for yourself. Tell the Weasleys, only, that you are taking Occlumency lessons."
"Furthermore, once you return to school, you will be meeting with various tutors during the week to learn a variety of skills. These tutors include Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and Bill Weasley who will teach you skills such as Apparition, duelling, advanced spell work, stealth and reconnaissance, charm and curse-breaking, and other skills they find useful for you to know." Harry's jaw dropped at the list of things he would be learning, and he was greatly impressed with the instructors he would be having. "Your cover for these meetings will be that you are receiving extra tutoring from Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Flitwick."
Professor Dumbledore continued, "On the weekends, you will have irregular tutoring sessions with Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and myself to go over the particular skills we think we are best suited to teach you."
Harry felt overwhelmed. Dumbledore really means business; he is going to make sure I'm prepared. For one of the first times, Harry actually believed that, if he were given enough time, he might actually be able fulfil his destiny and live.