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Author: cckeimig Story: Protecting the Prophecy Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 4 Words: 18,887
Disclaimer: The setting and characters all belong to J.K. Rowling, of course. I’m just having fun with them. A/N: Sorry this took so very long to post. I let myself get too busy...ridiculous, really, considering how much time I’ve spent reading OTHER folks’ stories, don’t you agree? Anyhow, chapter eight is coming along very slowly, as I’ve set it aside several times. It’s not going to be much longer, though. Thanks, especially, to my wonderful beta, DancingInMagic. Without you, I’d drown in Americanisms, I’m sure! Beta’s Note: Well, gang, it’s been months. Oops. Please direct all rotten vegetables to me—Christina has been patience in its purest form, and I’ve been nothing but trouble! I can handle overwork one day at a time, but when several months attack me at once, I lose control over things. I’m really, really sorry. But now, without further ado (hopefully!), here it is....
When Uncle Vernon and Dudley arrived home for dinner that night, they expected to see the houseguest they already knew about, who appeared harmless enough and served up such marvellous breakfasts. But they most certainly were not prepared to see a member of Harry’s Welcoming Committee sitting in the lounge with Harry and Petunia, enjoying a nice cup of tea. Petunia’s smile of greeting was quite genuine, although Harry’s grin had an evil, mischievous cast to it. But as Petunia made the introductions, Uncle Vernon could only sputter at the mention of Professor Lupin’s former place of employment. He couldn’t very well shout at her for mentioning Harry’s abnormality under his roof. Especially as he’d made no fuss at all over Dobby’s presence, even if the house-elf demonstrated more useful skills than the former professor, in Uncle Vernon’s eyes at least. The thought that at least it wasn’t Mad-Eye Moody passed so obviously across his features that Lupin and Harry looked at one another and grinned. Dudley merely gave a terrified sort of squawk at being forced to shake hands with an adult wizard and then sat down as quickly as possible. Lupin gave Harry a sort of “What the...” look, but Harry just mouthed, “I’ll tell you later,” grinned again, and kept silent, aside from sort of choking on a sip of tea. “You missed meeting Professor Dumbledore himself this morning, Vernon,” Aunt Petunia was saying. Harry forced his attention from Dudley’s frightened face and back to the main conversation. “What?!” spluttered Uncle Vernon. “Do you mean to tell me he was in this house?!” “Yes, dear,” she replied calmly, taking a sip of tea as if this sort of thing were completely normal. “That old cr....” He cut himself off at the look on Harry’s face, or perhaps at the fact that Harry’s hand had automatically reached for the wand he kept up his sleeve at all times. “Ha!” he barked. “You can’t do you-know-what during vacations!” He sneered at his nephew. “I can’t, necessarily, but Professor Lupin can. And so can Dobby. And I might just forget myself one of these days under extreme provocation. Such as an insult to the greatest sorcerer of our time, who happens to have done all of us a great many personal favours.” Harry forced a polite tone, even while speaking such threatening words. “After what I’ve personally seen Harry do, Mr. Dursley, I really wouldn’t push him,” Lupin said quietly. Uncle Vernon turned on him with a growl, but before he could speak, Harry interrupted him once more. “I wouldn’t recommend it, Uncle Vernon. There’s more to Uncle Moony than meets the eye. But then I’ve no wish to give you nightmares. The full moon was last night, so we’re all safe—for now.” There was a feral glint in Harry’s eye; he could actually feel it. Uncle Vernon shut up. Harry shot Lupin an apologetic glance, but Lupin just nodded, as if pleased that his lycanthropy could have a positive application. Aunt Petunia cleared her throat. “The table should be set by now. Shall we move into the dining room? With so much company we can’t very well eat in the kitchen, now, can we?” She took Uncle Vernon’s arm and half dragged him with her into the next room. Harry gestured for Dudley to precede him, but his cousin returned the gesture, indicated that Lupin should go first. Harry hid his laugh with a cough and directed his former professor through the doorway. This was definitely going to be the best summer ever, in spite of all that had happened and would undoubtedly happen. *** After dinner Dudley fled the house to hang out with his gang for a couple more hours. Harry sat in a corner of the lounge and studied his Occlumency book, Dobby sitting protectively at his feet, while Lupin sat talking quietly with the Dursleys about some of what had been happening in the wizarding world. After about an hour, Uncle Vernon looked and sounded a bit more comfortable with Professor Lupin’s presence in his house, and even looked at his nephew with something akin to respect. Then the telephone rang, and all five of them jumped. Aunt Petunia, being the closest, reached over and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Dursley residence,” she said. “Oh, yes, of course. You’re on the authorized list, so just a moment and I’ll connect him for you.” She got up and started over to Harry, extending the cordless telephone. “Authorized list?” said Uncle Vernon. “What’s this about an authorized list?” Aunt Petunia handed Harry the telephone, then returned to her seat to quietly explain to her husband what had transpired in their kitchen that morning. Harry held the handset to his ear. “Hello?” he said. “Hi, Harry! What’s all this about an authorized list?” asked the voice on the other end of the line. “Oh, hi, Hermione! It’s a really long story,” and he launched into a recital of the day’s events, with his friend making surprised or shocked noises at all the correct moments. “So, how are you doing?” he asked, once he’d recounted everything. “I’m fine,” she said. “I was just worried about you, really. But after what you said about Dobby, I just had to call and see how it was going with him. And now your guard has been doubled and Professor Lupin is to stay with you for a while? Harry, this is really serious.” “Yes, it is, Hermione. There’s something I’ve not told you and Ron. About that day at the Department of Mysteries and later in Dumbledore’s office,” Harry confessed. “Is it about the prophecy that V-Voldemort wanted?” she asked Harry laughed. “Yes, it is. Why am I not surprised you figured that out?” Lupin shot him a warning look across the room. Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “Suffice it to say that our side knows more than his, okay? I can’t exactly recite what I heard over the telephone, just in case, nor should I really tell you anyhow. But it’s the real reason I’m going to study Occlumency as hard as I can so I can dare to sleep again.” “Oh, Harry! You’ve not been sleeping?!” Hermione sounded dismayed. “Well, it was only for three nights. Last night I slept like a log—between Madam Pomfrey’s Dreamless Sleep draught and Dobby warding my sleep, I couldn’t do otherwise.” He laughed so she could hear that he really was okay. “If you say so, Harry.” Hermione wasn’t convinced. “I’ll call again on Monday evening so you can tell me all about Remedial Potions and class with Dumbledore.” “Okay,” he said. “But really, you’re the one I’m worried about. I mean, everyone else who went with us that day is surrounded by adult wizards, aren’t they? I wonder if you shouldn’t go to the Burrow for a while.” “Don’t worry so much, Harry. Professor Dumbledore came this afternoon to set up more wards around the house, and I’m pretty sure I’m under guard as well. That’s why I called, really. I figured something was up with you and had to be sure you were all right.” “Thanks, Hermione. I’ll sleep better knowing he’s done that for you and your family. Although I worry you’ve got the ones who were supposed to be guarding me last year—and you’ve no Mrs. Figg to take Dung to task!” Hermione laughed. “Don’t you worry about that. Mr. or Mrs. Weasley have been popping by every day or two to check on us anyhow, and Mrs. Weasley stepped out into the shrubbery for a few moments before she left. I got the distinct impression she was scolding someone. You know how subtle she is when she’s scolding.” They both laughed heartily at that, then said good-bye and hung up. *** That night, after saying good-night to Lupin and Aunt Petunia, Harry and Dobby retired to Harry’s room so Dobby could set up the wards for sleeping. It really was amazing to see the things the little elf could do without a wand. It made Harry start to think that Hermione had a point with all that S.P.E.W. stuff. He just wished she’d consulted with Ron on the name—H.E.L.F. was a lot less embarrassing to wear around on a badge. People were too busy snickering at the name spew to pay any attention to the literature. He’d have to write her a letter in the morning. For now, he concentrated on clearing his mind for sleep. Why hadn’t Snape taken the time to explain how to do this? He’d just concentrated on making the lessons as miserable as possible for Harry. Oh, sure, he’d been mouthing the principles Harry had read in that book Dumbledore lent him, but he’d never told or shown Harry how to do any of it. He’d just attacked and attacked and attacked, leaving Harry if anything more vulnerable to Voldemort’s mental penetrations rather than less. “Okay, Harry,” he thought. “This is getting you nowhere right now. You need to concentrate on the here and now, not on that greasy git. Clear your mind....” His mind barely registered the fact that he’d succeeded for the first time before he was out cold for the second night in a row. He did dream, but it was of lazy late spring days, lounging by the lake at Hogwarts under the beech tree. There were birds singing in the trees and flowers in bloom everywhere. He was feeding toast to the giant squid and watching clouds float by. The peaceful smile this scene caused wiped out the tension in his head and neck as he slept undisturbed until 9 a.m., when a large barn owl tapped imperiously at his bedroom window, a thick parchment envelope bearing double seals attached to its leg. Harry grinned, feeling he was ready for just about anything after yet a second great night’s sleep. “Hey, Dobby, we’ve mail this morning. Do you need to take down any wards or anything so the post owl can come in?” Dobby groaned in his sleep and waved a hand. Harry actually felt the protective wards drop. “Wow!” he said and hurried to open the window. It was just as he had suspected. The double seals were from Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. It could mean only one thing—his O.W.L. results. He removed the envelope from the barn owl’s leg, and Hedwig moved over to allow the visitor to drink from her dish. Harry offered it an owl treat, which it accepted with dignity, apparently in no real hurry to get going. Harry gave one to Hedwig as well for good measure and plopped down on the bed to rip open his test scores. He scanned through them once, then whooped for joy and rushed off to find Lupin. “Professor Lupin!” he shouted, thundering down the stairs. He gave another whoop and burst into the kitchen, where the object of his search sat having a cup of tea with Aunt Petunia. “So now it’s ‘Professor Lupin’ again, is it?” he said, eyebrows raised. “It is on the morning I get my O.W.L. results, Uncle Moony!” Harry grinned, then plunked himself down into a chair and grabbed a slice of toast. “Good morning, Aunt Petunia!” She nodded in reply and actually looked interested to hear how Harry had done, so Lupin read the scores aloud: “Charms, Outstanding; Transfiguration, Exceeds Expectations; Herbology, Exceeds Expectations; Defence Against the Dark Arts, Outstanding Plus; Potions, Exceeds Expectations; Care of Magical Creatures, Outstanding; Astronomy, Acceptable; Divination, Dreadful; History of Magic, Dreadful. “What happened in the last three, Harry?” he asked when he finished. “In Astronomy I only finished about two-thirds of my star chart before they went after Hagrid and Stunned McGonagall. Divination was always a waste—never learned a thing, except maybe from Firenze. And History of Magic was the morning after the Astronomy practical. I—uh—fell asleep, and that’s when Voldemort sent the fake vision,” Harry said. Lupin paled. “Well, that’s understandable. Would you mind telling me, though, what’s with the ‘Plus’ in your Defence grade?” Harry laughed. “I have my third year professor and the Dementors to thank for that, I guess. You see, my examiner offered me an extra point if I’d show him my corporeal Patronus Charm. So I looked straight at Umbridge and imagined her being sacked. I don’t think Prongs has ever come across stronger!” Lupin laughed with him. “You see, Aunt Petunia, the Patronus is what I was forced to use last summer in that alleyway with Dudley. And it turns out Umbridge herself ordered the attack on me to try and silence me.” “Is that so, Harry?” Lupin asked, brow furrowed. “She confessed it in front of witnesses. Why do you think she lost her place in the Ministry as well as at Hogwarts?” Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore knows, which is why she was sacked so quickly. My cousin was nearly Kissed.” Aunt Petunia paled and shuddered at the memory. “I still can’t believe you saved his life, after all we’ve....” She stopped, shaking her head. “No one deserves to have their soul sucked out through their mouth. Except maybe Voldemort himself, and even then....” “By the way, Uncle Moony, I’m worried about Dobby. He’s still asleep,” Harry said. “But the O.W.L. results...” Lupin said, looking alarmed. “Oh, he took down the wards when I asked him to, but never even opened his eyes. I think this duty is taking way too much of a toll on him. I don’t like it one bit.” “Harry, your safety...” Lupin began, looking uncomfortable. “Is of the highest priority, yes, I’m aware of that. But I refuse to kill Dobby off in this way! I’m going to try and insist he stay at Hogwarts tomorrow. I made more progress last night in Occlumency than in nearly six months of Snape’s tutoring. He always left me so mentally battered and bruised that I had nearly constant headaches and was left even more open to Voldemort’s incursions than before. I understand now why Dumbledore didn’t teach me himself, but there has to have been a better way! He at least should have given me the book at Christmas to read up a bit before starting with Snape so I’d have had a clue!” Harry was really getting worked up now and forced himself to stop and take a few deep, cleansing breaths and clear his mind of turmoil, like he’d read about the night before. It actually seemed to help. Harry calmly finished his toast, then grabbed a bar of chocolate from the fridge and went to check on Dobby. His little friend was terribly pale and weak. “Dobby,” Harry whispered, “I want you to try and eat some of this chocolate. Maybe it’ll help you get your strength back. And I don’t want to see you lift a finger around this house apart from setting up and taking down the wards until after we’ve gone to Hogwarts tomorrow and Madam Pomfrey’s had a look at you.” Dobby opened his mouth and croaked a weak protest that brought tears to Harry’s eyes. “Would this be easier if you could use a wand?” he asked. “Probably, Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby croaked. “But house-elves isn’t allowed to use wands, sir.” He took a bite of the chocolate bar Harry had placed in his hands, and his colour immediately started to improve. “Stay in bed until I come for you, Dobby, unless of course you need to use the bathroom or something. There’s water in the pitcher on my desk. I need to go see to something.” He lifted a hand to still the elf’s protest. “I’ll be sure to take Uncle Moony wherever I go. You rest.” He turned on his heel and left the room. Lupin found him later, wearing a path in the lounge carpet. “Did the chocolate help?” he asked. “It seemed to. That stupid law needs to be changed, though. If he were allowed to use a wand, he wouldn’t be draining himself like this,” Harry fumed. “Sounds like Hermione finally has herself a dedicated member of S.P.E.W.” Harry smacked his forehead. “Hermione! I was going to write her this morning about this but forgot to, what with Dobby being sick and the O.W.L. results and all! I need to talk to her, though! And it can’t wait until tomorrow.” Lupin stuck his head out the front door. “Who’s on duty?” he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Bill Weasley.” “Do us a favour and pop over to the Grangers’ house. Bring Hermione to Mrs. Figg’s via Floo. Leave the guard there, though, to look out for her parents meanwhile.” “Is everything okay?” Bill’s voice sounded concerned. “Harry’s fine, if that’s what you mean, Bill. We just need to talk to Hermione for a bit, please.” “Yes, sir!” There was a sound of clicking heels and the ‘pop’ of a Disapparation. Harry and Lupin laughed at the image of Bill, long ponytail, fang earrings, and all, saluting so militarily; then they shut the door and sat down to wait. Aunt Petunia came into the lounge and sat down too. “Is Dobby all right?” she asked. “Well, the chocolate seems to have helped a bit, but this is literally killing him,” Harry said, frowning. The telephone rang, and Aunt Petunia answered it, then handed it to Harry. “It’s your friend from last night.” “Hello, Hermione?” Harry said, grabbing the cordless receiver and jumping up to pace some more. “Harry, are you okay?” Hermione asked. “Bill just popped in and said you and Remus needed me.” “Yeah, Uncle Moony sent him. We’re okay, but Dobby’s not. I have too much to talk about to write it all down, and it’s too important to wait for Hedwig. But first, give me your telephone number so we don’t scare you again like this.” He jotted down the number on a notepad Aunt Petunia handed him as he spoke. Then Harry spilled it all out—his worries for Dobby, his guilt over Dobby’s illness, his ideas for the future of S.P.E.W.—first and foremost of which (after the name change, of course) included the authorization of wand use for elves. He also mentioned his progress with Occlumency and his suspicions that a certain family member was either someone else using Polyjuice Potion or was acting under the Imperius Curse—she had left the room for the moment at that point, but Lupin cracked up laughing at that. Wiping streaming eyes, Lupin choked out, “Dumbledore’d never authorize the Imperius Curse,” as Hermione said exactly the same thing over the telephone. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past Moody!” Harry laughed. Hermione laughed at her end too. “She’s not drinking every hour on the hour from a hip flask, is she?” “No!” Harry chuckled. “I think we can probably rule out the Polyjuice Potion, at least.” “Did you ever think that maybe she’s telling the truth about lamenting how they’ve all treated you?” Hermione asked. “As much as I’d like to believe her, a lifetime of that sort of treatment is a lot to overcome in such a short time,” Harry said seriously. “I realize that, Harry, but maybe you should give her a chance—she is your only living blood relative, after all. Well, apart from your cousin,” Hermione said. “Don’t remind me.” Harry rolled his eyes. Lupin cracked up laughing at his expression and had to hide his face in a book until he could control his features, for at that moment Aunt Petunia came back into the room. “Too bad you can’t just read her mind and find out what has really caused such a drastic change in her behaviour.” A light clicked on in Harry’s brain. “Too bad I can’t. But maybe I’m not so unwilling to see Snape right now after all. I don’t think Dumbledore would ever invade her privacy, but Snape very well might be willing to test her.” Lupin’s head snapped up, eyes boring into Harry’s. “What?” Harry said defensively. “Something really weird is happening with that woman, and it could threaten the entire war effort. If you two knew what was in that little glass ball at the Department of Mysteries....” “I saw it smash on the steps when it fell from Neville’s pocket!” said Lupin. “Yes, but as Trelawney made the original prophecy to Dumbledore himself, he was able to show it to me that very night in his Pensieve.” Silence. “And no, I won’t tell you what it was. She doesn’t even know she made it because she went into a trance. Why do you think Dumbledore insists upon her staying at Hogwarts? She also predicted Wormtail’s return to Voldemort the very day it happened—I was the last to take my final exam and so was the only one to hear it. I told Dumbledore about it later, of course, but that was already after the fact, so we were unable to prevent it.” “I’ll contact Severus immediately,” said Lupin, and he strode from the room. “So, Hermione, I imagine your O.W.L. results arrived this morning and you got ten Os,” Harry said. “Close,” she said. “Eight Os and two Es—Ancient Runes and Astronomy.” “Oh, of course. One mistranslation and the slight distraction provided by Umbridge and company attacking Hagrid and Stunning McGonagall.” She laughed. “You guessed it! So how did you do?” “An O-plus in Defence, Os in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, Es in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions, and an A in Astronomy. Never mind the other two.” “Ds? It’s no wonder—Divination’s a joke, and you slept through History of Magic,” she said. “I was so tired after what happened the night before that I couldn’t help myself. I studied rather than taking a nap that morning, so....” “And in spite of your exhaustion, we certainly went on to have one of the longest days of our lives,” she said, her voice so sad Harry didn’t even cringe at the reference to that horrible day. “So, have you heard from Ron about his O.W.L.s yet?” Harry asked. “Actually, Pig just now showed up. Let me catch him and read the note,” she said and set down the receiver. A moment later she picked it up and read, “Charms, E; Transfiguration, E; Herbology, E; Defence, O; Potions, O; Care of Magical Creatures, O; Astronomy, A; Divination, D; History of Magic, A.” “Yeah, he didn’t sleep through that last one,” Harry joked. Other than that last exam, he and Ron had got pretty much the same results—except for the Charms and Potions grades being switched. “Looks like Ron and I will be together for most all of our classes, and even for over half of yours,” he said. At that moment there was the distinctive ‘pop’ of someone Apparating in the hallway. “I’ll talk to you later, Hermione,” Harry’s voice rasped, sounding unfamiliar even to himself. “Harry?” she said. “Is everything all right?” “Later,” Harry repeated and cut the connection. Wand in hand, he crept to the hallway door and peeked out. The figure he saw, although not inspiring joy in his heart, made him so giddy with relief he began hyperventilating. The figure turned at the sound of his laboured breathing. “You wanted to see me, Potter?” it sneered. Harry managed to nod before falling to his knees and coughing his lungs back into control.
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