CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO –
Impotence
The return to Hogwarts happened fairly simply. Harry had returned the Longbottom elder to her home, followed by dropping Amelia off at the Ministry of Magic. The Portkey Box landed in the Grangers' back garden, allowing them to simply enter the house straight away.
The Portkey box then landed on Platform 9¾ at 10:45, allowing the kids to disembark and climb onto the train, leaving the box to head back to Harry's dormitory in Ravenclaw tower. All in all, a successful Christmas.
Once back at school, the group had managed to quickly get back into the swing of things. Naturally, all their holiday homework had been completed early, allowing them plenty of time to practice their Occlumency exercises, and more research into the Chamber of Secrets.
Unfortunately, the information on the Chamber of Secrets was just too limited. Practically nothing in the school library, even the restricted section when they'd snuck in under Harry's invisibility cloak, could tell them anything useful.
On the other hand, there hadn't been any attacks during the Christmas period, which, for those people who were too dumb to know better, believed that was further proof that Harry was lying, and that he was indeed the Heir of Slytherin. Some people never learn.
Snape had been his usual cheery self, piling on as much homework as he could. Harry knew that it was mainly aimed at himself, since Snape had been made to look a fool in each of his encounters with Harry. True, it was very easy to make Snape look like a fool, since he was one, but he was still a potential danger to Harry's plans.
"Mr. Potter, would you remain behind, please?" McGonagall asked at the end of their transfiguration lesson. They'd been back at Hogwarts for five weeks, and had comfortably gotten back in track.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked as he stepped up to her desk.
"I was wondering if you've heard anything more about the Chamber of Secrets, Harry?" She asked, a little uncomfortably. "We searched the school again during the holiday break, and we didn't find anything of use to us."
"'Anything of use'?" Harry asked. "That implies that you did find something, ma'am."
McGonagall sighed. "We found another broom closet, one that went missing in the eighties."
"Oh." Harry sniggered like the twelve year old he was pretending to be. "That's good to know, ma'am. Where is it?"
"Never you mind." McGonagall said, a small smile on her face. "You don't need to know about those quite yet."
"Of course, ma'am." Harry said solemnly, an effect which was ruined by the grin on his face. "As to the Chamber, I've not learned anything new yet." I'm getting so good at this misdirection bollocks.Harry thought. It's true; I haven't learned anything new yet. Huh... need to be careful. I'll end up talking and thinking like Dumbledore soon.
McGonagall sighed. "Then we're at a loss, Harry. If there are any more attacks, we run the risk of Hogwarts being shut down."
"I'm not worried, ma'am." Harry said, before grinning impishly. "With such a fine defeater of evil as Professor Lockhart here, I'm sure we'll be fine."
"I wish I shared your confidence, Harry." McGonagall replied, not smiling. "This has been my home for many decades, and I have no wish to leave it. We need to know more. Are you sure there isn't anything else?"
Harry realised that she was genuinely scared, and that worried him. Even during the first time, she'd shown concern, yes, but fear? This was new to him. "Ma'am, I swear to you, I will stop whatever is doing this. You have my word."
She nodded slowly. "I just wish there was more we could do."
Harry took a step back, hoisting his back onto his shoulder. "I'll take care of it, ma'am."
Once outside the classroom, where the rest of his friends were waiting, with the exception of Luna, he leaned against the wall.
"Harry? Is everything okay?" Hermione asked tenderly, resting a hand against his arm.
"No." He said softly. "McGonagall's scared. I... I've never seen her scared before. It's... disconcerting."
"She asked you if you'd heard anything about the Chamber?" Blaise asked.
"She did." Harry confirmed. "But... she's worried about the school closing down. I told her..." He realised exactly what he'd told her, and groaned inwardly. "I told her I'll take care of it."
Blaise's eyebrow shot up. "And how do you propose to do that?"
"At the right time." Luna said, approaching from the far end of the corridor. "Harry, I know what you're thinking, and you can't, not yet."
"I know." Harry sighed. "Damn it, I wish I could just... fix all the world's problems." He pushed with his butt against the wall, levering himself back to his feet. "Come on, let's... let's get to potions."
Later that evening, Harry was back inside his Portkey Box, tinkering. Even though he'd only had the box for seven months, he'd comfortably focussed on that as his new tinkering obsession. It was better than playing hangman. He'd begun to decipher the spells on the Marauders' map, and was making notes, but he wasn't any closer to creating his sensor array.
"Ah, I knew you were there." Hermione said as she stepped into the console room. "I was wondering."
"Hey, girlfriend." Harry said softly. "How're you doing?"
"How're you doing, Harry?" She volleyed back. "Come on, I can see it in you. You're worried about this whole thing as well, aren't you?"
"I am." Harry admitted. "I just want to set things right, Hermione. And if I do... what happens then?"
"I don't know." Hermione said. "But, Harry, no one person can make everything better. You know that."
"I do. I just... I want it done."
She stepped closer and wrapped him in a tight 'Hermi-hug'. As usual, it had the effect of calming him down. "Be patient, Harry. I'm sure everything will work out okay."
I hope so. By playing with time, I could end up destroying everything. Harry groused to himself. When the time comes, Tom, I will wipe you out of existence for everything you've done.
Harry knocked on the door to the Headmaster's office, a little trepidation in his veins. Had Dumbledore scanned one of his friends' minds and found out that he wasn't really willing to let bygones be bygones?
"Come in, Harry." Dumbledore's voice called through the wood.
Opening the door, Harry let himself in, casually sauntering to the chair in front of the desk.
"Please, sit down, Harry." Dumbledore said, reaching forward onto the desk and offering a bowl. "Lemon drop?"
"Laced or unlaced?" Harry asked.
"Ah, yes." Dumbledore reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a small white paper bag. "My apologies, I forgot about that. Unlaced lemon drop?"
Harry plucked a sour sweet from the bag, and threw it into his mouth. Tucking it into his cheek so he could still speak, he asked, "What can I do for you, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore tossed a sweet into his mouth, copying Harry's cheek trick. "I was wondering how your training was going with your friends, Harry. Specifically, their Occlumency training."
"Why, sir?" Harry asked politely.
"While you've been training them now for several months, you haven't really been able to test their shields, have you?"
"Not really, sir." Harry replied. "I'm incapable of performing Legilimency."
"Not to mention, as the one who is teaching them Occlumency, it's harder for you to search their minds. I was wondering if you'd consider allowing a Legilimens to check their defences."
Harry's eyebrow shot up. "Why are you asking me, sir? It's their minds that you're asking to check."
"True." Dumbledore agreed. "However, we both know that you are the leader of your group, Harry. If you were to authorise it, they would be more likely to agree."
"Hmm..." Harry considered it for a moment. "And who would you like to be the Legilimens who checks their shields, sir?"
"Oh, either myself or Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore replied. "We're the only registered Legilimens here at Hogwarts, and both of us are very proficient in the mind arts."
Harry repressed a snigger. "I'm sorry, sir. But, I can't speak on behalf of my friends. Not in this. If you wish their consent to check, you'll need to ask them. However, I will advise you that the request would probably go better if it were you offering to check, rather than Professor Snape. He's... he's not very popular with the students."
"Ah, Harry." Dumbledore said sadly. "I understand that you and Professor Snape don't get along. The grudge he had with your father has clearly spilled over to you, and for that, I apologise. However, Severus is a trusted member of staff, and would not hurt anyone."
"Except me, sir." Harry replied firmly. "You may trust Professor Snape, sir, but I don't. He has attacked and belittled me at every opportunity, and I feel no reason to allow him any more chances to do so."
Dumbledore sighed. "I understand, Harry. However, don't you believe in being the bigger man? Turning the other cheek?" He gasped suddenly as the Unbreakable Vow he'd entered into with Harry began warning him that he was pushing the boundaries of his oath.
"Turn the other cheek, sir?" Harry asked. "Why? So he can slap both cheeks? No, sir. I will deal with Severus Snape in my own time, and in my own way. If you want to check the others' shields, you'll have to ask them."
"Very well, Harry." Dumbledore said, feeling the warning vanish. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss at the moment?"
"No, sir."
"Anything you... wish to tell me, Harry?"
"No, sir." Harry replied again. "Nothing I wish to tell you at the present time, sir."
"Very well, Harry. Dismissed."
"Sir."
While Harry left, Dumbledore pondered the sharp pain in his chest while he'd been speaking to Harry. It was clear, since the Vow had promised no manipulations, that he couldn't even appeal to Harry's better nature without being affected by the vow. This certainly bore watching. At the moment, he was impotent in his dealings with Harry, but there was now a question for him: just how far could he push Harry Potter?
Harry met up with the others in the Great Hall. He sat down, pulling a plate of bread rolls closer. "Hey, guys."
"Hey." All six replied in unison, making Harry blink.
"Er... just come from a meeting with Dumbledore." Harry said after a moment. "He wants to check your Occlumency barriers." He paused. "Well, him or Snape check your Occlumency barriers."
Hermione's eyebrow shot up. "And what did you say?"
"That he'll have to ask you." Harry said, wondering why she'd felt the need to ask that. "It's your minds, your choice."
"Oh." Hermione nodded, feeling a bit foolish. "Sorry, Harry."
"No probs." He replied, reaching over for the lasagne. "He was also trying to get me to work alongside Snape."
"I thought his Vow meant he couldn't manipulate you." Padma asked.
"It does. He found that out when he got a sudden pain in his chest." Harry smirked. "But, I know Dumbledore. He'll start pushing, to see just how far he can go. I'm not worried, though. If he tries, then he'll end up a dead'un. Oh dear, what a pity, never mind."
Hermione continued with her lasagne, wishing she could get Harry to teach the cooks here his version. It was infinitely better. "Valentines coming up soon." She said softly.
All seven of them stopped eating for a moment as they looked at her.
"Oh, no..." Harry groaned as he looked up at the staff table. Sure enough, Gilderoy Lockhart was beaming as he looked out over the students.
"What's wrong with Valentines?" Padma asked.
"Well, nothing, really." Harry replied. "Last year, I made two very good friends out of it." He beamed at Padma and Sue, who both blushed. "But, last year we didn't have Gilderoy Lockhart, the magical equivalent of Brad Pitt, running rampant at the school. Ten galleons says he'll have something planned for the day." He sighed heavily.
"Don't worry, Harry." Hermione whispered.
"I'm not." He whispered back. "I already have an idea at what I'm going to get my beautiful girlfriend for Valentines."
Padma, Blaise and Neville coughed loudly when they saw Hermione blush wildly. "I get the feeling we really don't want to know the contents of that conversation."
"No, you probably don't." Harry said blandly. "However, you might want to be in the Great Hall on Valentine's."
"Oh, something special?" Neville asked.
Harry smirked. "I hope so."
On Valentine's morning, Hermione woke up. She didn't open her eyes, as she normally would. Instead, she breathed deeply, smiling widely when she smelt the delicate aroma of roses. As she opened her eyes, she spotted, instead of yellow roses like last year, they were pink roses. Hermione knew that these were a sign of romantic affection, but not as intense as red roses, which meant simply "I love you."
These flowers, of which there were six large bouquets, simply filled the room with sweet smells, and a message that Harry definitely cared for her. As Hermione looked around, she spotted a large teddy bear sitting on her dressing table, another rose pinned to it's chest, and a small box of chocolates taped to it's paw.
Harry... you little romance devil, you. She thought with a huge smile. One day...
A knock on her door made her frown. She got up, grabbed her dressing down, and opened the door a crack, peering through. Outside the door was Padma and Luna, both of whom were dressed and wearing little smirks. "We wanted to see if he slipped you anything." Padma said.
With a sigh, Hermione opened the door, letting them see all the bouquets sitting round the room, and pointed to the teddy bear. "I'm going for a shower." Hermione said, grabbing her wash bag.
After showering, dressing and heading downstairs, Hermione waited in the common room, intent on pouncing on Harry and 'thanking' him properly for the gift.
Taped to the wall, in between the staircases, was a note. Hermione pulled it down, noting that it was in Harry's chicken-scratch.
Hermione,
The rest of your present is down in the Great Hall. I'll see you soon.
Love,
Harry
Hermione showed the note to Padma and Luna, who squealed (Luna squeals? Hermione asked herself) before pulling her towards the portrait hole. Outside, Blaise, Susan and Neville were waiting.
"Harry said we had to meet early." Neville yawned. "Then escort you to breakfast."
"Okay." Hermione said timidly. What the hell had he gotten her?
Down in the Great Hall, they saw Gilderoy Lockhart clad in shockingly-pink robes. Fortunately, the rest of the Great Hall looked normal. They'd half-expected cheesy decorations all over the hall. Unknown to them, Harry had torn them down and gleefully tossed them into the fireplace earlier that morning. There was no need for tat, after all.
"Good morning!" Lockhart boomed. "I thought that we could all do with a pick-me-up, considering the unpleasantness of last term. I'd like the thank the forty-five people who've sent me cards!" He gestured to the doors, where a group of six surly dwarves were standing, each of them dressed in a ridiculous cupid outfit. The six friends instantly felt sorry for them.
"The cupids will be delivering your valentines all day today, so if you see one, be sure to give it any cards you have." He gestured to the other teachers. "I'm sure the other staff members would be glad to assist you on this, the most romantic day of the year. Professor Snape could surely tell you how to whip up a love potion."
Snape stood up, glaring at Lockhart. "The first person who asks me for a love potion will become the ingredient in a potion." He glared at the rest of the hall. "Are we perfectly clear?"
The occupants in the Great Hall were clear.
Lockhart cleared his throat. "Yes... well... perhaps Professor Flitwick would be able-"
"Leave me out of this... disgrace." Flitwick snapped angrily. "I really don't want to hear your suggestion. Perhaps sitting quietly and enjoying your breakfast would be better, Gilderoy."
Cowed, the fop sat down, shuffling his chair slightly further away from the enraged Charms master, who hopped onto his chair. "Ladies and Gentlemen, while we, the staff, certainly agree with Valentines, please do not allow it to go to your head. As I'm sure you're all aware, using love spells or potions against another is illegal and we will prevent this from happening." He sat down, staring at the hall. Next to him, Professor McGonagall tittered, before sobering.
Hermione shook her head, unconsciously leaning her head down to sniff the pink rose she'd pinned to her robes, before heading towards the Ravenclaw table. "I wonder where Harry is?" She said to no-one in particular.
The band of angry dwarves were stomping throughout the Great Hall, delivering letters and cards to different people, each and every one glowing with embarrassment.
"Where is Harry?" Neville asked out of the corner of his mouth. "Although, considering the popularity of the 'Boy-Who-Lived', I think I can understand him hiding."
"Not a clue." Blaise replied. "I think that dwarf," pointing to a particularly annoyed-looking one, "wouldn't mind finding him."
The lights in the Great Hall faded slowly, ceasing all conversations instantly.
"What's going on?" Hermione whispered.
On the stage, a single male stepped out, clutching onto a magical microphone, with a small CD player and speakers in his other hand.
"Is that Harry?" Padma whispered.
"Oh, my..." Susan said quickly, having figured it out. "Ballad time!"
Hermione's face lit up as a spotlight locked onto her seat at the Ravenclaw table. Even though she was very embarrassed, she couldn't deny this was very sweet.
On the stage, Harry pressed play. An old tune, very familiar to the Muggleborns, began to play. Harry raised the microphone to his lips. "Oh, my love... my darling, I've hungered for your touch." He smiled at Hermione. "A long... lonely time." He stepped off the stage, slowly beginning to walk down the aisle towards Hermione. "And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much, are you... still mine?"
Hermione's blush had escalated to epic proportions, but she wouldn't stop this for... well, anything.
"Did you know Harry's voice was this good?" Susan asked Neville. He just shook his head, not wanting to interrupt.
"I need your love." Harry was now about a third of the way down the aisle, and halfway towards Hermione, who was grinning at him. "I need your love."
Draco Malfoy stood up, undoubtedly trying to ruin the moment, but a silencing spell from Daphne Greengrass quickly stopped him. True, she didn't like Potter much, but a romantic gesture such as this? It cut through even her ice queen act straight to the heart.
Likewise, at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George Weasley quickly silenced their brother, placing a strong sticking charm on his robes so he couldn't get up.
"God speed your love to me."
Harry reached out to Hermione, and took her hand, smiling warmly at her. She felt her heart melt at the gesture. "Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea, to the open arms... of the sea." He pulled her up to her feet, and wrapped his free hand round her waist.
"Lonely rivers sigh... wait for me... wait for me, I'll be coming home... wait for me."
Hermione pressed a kiss against his nose, snuggling into his side. Harry moved the microphone so they could share it, and complete the ballad together. Hermione blushed for a moment, before nodding.
"Whoa, my love... my darling, I've hungered, hungered for your touch," They sang together, still squeezing each other. "A long... lonely time, and time goes by... so slowly, and time can do so much, are you... still mine?"
McGonagall glanced at Flitwick, remembering the bet they'd made the previous year, about Harry and Hermione being married before they left Hogwarts. At this rate, they'd be married by the end of third year. She didn't mind, though. This was truly a beautiful moment, and she was honoured that they were sharing it with everyone.
"I need your love, I need your love," The two turned to face the majority of the hall, and completed the last line. "God speed your love to me!"
As soon as the song ended, Harry pressed a kiss to Hermione's lips, before smiling warmly at her. "Happy Valentine, Hermione Granger."
The Great Hall erupted into applause, even those students who thought that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin couldn't deny that it was a beautiful moment. A number of seventh years were handing round conjured tissues.
Harry smiled as he quickly walked up to the stage, grabbing his CD player.
"Excellently done, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said. "Truly a magic more impressive than anything we do here."
"Thank you, sir."
"Do you know any other songs?"
Harry paused. "Quite a few, sir. Why?"
"Would you consider performing another song for us?"
Harry froze. "I'm not a professional singer, sir. Besides, I'm sure I've interrupted breakfast enough for everyone."
"No!" the Great Hall near-screamed, before a chant of "Potter! Potter!" erupted.
Hermione looked up at Harry and nodded, wanting him to continue. With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay... one more. Then, I want my breakfast." He quickly remembered what was on the CD, and smiled. "I'll need two backing singers. At least one girl." He looked pleadingly at Hermione, who sighed and nodded. Luna stood up. "I know the song, Harry."
They calmly walked up to the stage, while Harry jabbed the controls on the CD player. A moment later, he took a deep breath. "You never close your eyes any more, when I kiss your lips, and there's no tenderness like before, in your fingertips, you're trying hard not to show it..."
Hermione and Luna quickly filled in the, "baby,"
Harry grinned. "But, baby... baby, I know it!"
All three sang together. "You've lost that loving feeling, oh, that loving feeling, you've lost that loving feeling, Now it's gone, gone, gone... Whoa-oh."
Harry continued. "Now there's no welcome look, in your eyes when I reach for you, And, girl, you're starting to criticise... little things I do." He plastered a mournful expression onto his face. "It makes me just feel like crying,"
Again, Luna and Hermione filled in the, "baby!"
"'Cause baby... something beautiful's dying!"
Again, all three sang the chorus together. "You've lost that loving feeling, oh, that loving feeling. Bring back that loving feeling, Now it's gone, gone, gone... and I can't go on... No-oh-oh."
Stepping forward, Harry dropped to his knees heavily, extending his free hand to the crowd. "Baby, baby... I'll get down on my knees for you."
Behind him, Hermione and Luna stepped forward, humming along as they each rested a hand on his shoulders. "If you would only love me like you used to do, we had a love, a love, a love you don't find every day, So don't... don't... don't let it slip away!"
Hermione began singing, "Baby!", interspersed with Luna as they filled the musical, while Harry stared at the floor, before they joined together for the chorus. "Bring back that loving feeling, Oh, that loving feeling, Bring back that loving feeling, now it's gone... gone... gone..."
Harry stood up, taking a step back and wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist as they concluded the song together. "And I can't go on... No-oh-oh..."
"Bring back that loving feeling, Oh, that loving feeling, Bring back that loving feeling, now it's gone... gone... gone..." The three trailed off as the music died. The instant the song was over, every person in the Great Hall, with the exception of Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, who would never clap for a Potter, no matter what he did, hauled themselves to their feet, clapping, whistling and cheering.
Harry shook his head before grabbing his CD player, and jumping off the stage. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that's all. That's all, ladies and gentlemen, thank you." He near-ran to his spot at the Ravenclaw table, sitting down and quickly loading up a plate of breakfast.
Hermione and Luna sat next to him, Hermione near-sitting on his lap. "That was beautiful, Harry. Thank you."
"No problem, Hermione." Harry said softly. "Happy Valentines."
"Thank you." She smiled at him. "You want to tell me how you got those things into my dorm room?"
"No. Not really." Harry replied. "It was magic, Hermione."
She snorted, and restarted her breakfast.
Dumbledore approached them during breakfast, clearing his throat from behind Harry. "That was excellent, Harry. Thank you for sharing it with us."
"Sir."
The gratitude out of the way, Dumbledore turned to the others. "Ladies and gentlemen, did Harry pass on my request to check your Occlumency barriers?"
"He did, sir." Hermione said, speaking for the others.
"And what did he suggest?" Dumbledore asked, genuinely curious.
"He suggested that we each make our own decision, sir." Hermione said firmly. "However, one thing all seven of us agree on is that we would never allow Snape to probe our minds. This is non-negotiable."
"That's Professor Snape, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said firmly, "and please believe me; Severus Snape is a trusted member of the faculty here at Hogwarts. He would not hurt you or attempt to do anything other than check your barriers."
Hermione snorted. "By hurting Harry, Headmaster, he hurts us. Besides, we don't trust him, since he's done nothing to prove his trustworthiness. We prefer to investigate things for ourselves, sir, instead of blindly trusting someone's word."
Dumbledore sighed. "Do you not think that I have investigated Professor Snape? I know that he is trustworthy. However, I will not force the issue. Would you care for me to make the check?"
"Why do we need this check, sir?" Blaise asked.
"Building Occlumency barriers is long and difficult work, Mr. Zabini." Dumbledore said. "Harry informed me that he isn't capable of Legilimency, so he would have no way of checking if your barriers were effective. When an official teacher is training a student, they frequently attempt to breach the barriers, to check that they are solid."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Understood, sir. That would explain the little 'tingle' sensations we get every so often, wouldn't it?"
"Possibly." Dumbledore said slowly. "When you have you received these 'tingles'?"
Harry knew exactly when. During Potions class.
"Every so often, sir." Hermione said dismissively, knowing that if Harry didn't trust Dumbledore, then there would be a very good reason, and she decided to follow his lead. "You can check mine if you wish, sir."
Dumbledore's twinkle became even more pronounced as he stared into Hermione's eyes. "That's a novel approach, Miss Granger. Where are the books?"
"Oh, you need authorisation to read in my library, sir." Hermione said smugly. "I assume you couldn't see anything?"
"Well, I could see empty shelves and a desk, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said. "That's an excellent set-up. Instead of preventing access to the mind, you simply hide everything inside. That could be even more effective than Mr. Potter's."
"Thank you, sir." Hermione said, not glowing under the praise. She didn't trust the old man. The eye-twinkling thing told her that he did it far too often.
"Would anyone else like me to try?"
Susan nodded, looking into the Headmaster's eyes. After a moment, Dumbledore blinked. "Curious... is that the Hospital Wing?"
"An approximation, Headmaster." Susan replied. "Of course, there's more... active defences available, should they be needed."
"Oh?"
"Yes... Madam Pomfrey with too many arms and a scalpel in each hand." Susan said with a grin. "Truly the evil queen of medicine."
Harry shuddered. There's a truly terrifying image.
Blaise was next, staring at Dumbledore with that damnable Slytherin smirk on his face. A second after Dumbledore looked into his eyes, he took a step back, his face lighting up with fear.
"Won't you step into my parlour, Headmaster?" Blaise asked, the smirk widening.
"An Acromantula as a defender, Mr. Zabini? When have you ever seen an Acromantula?"
"Oh... you'd be surprised the things you can learn in the library, sir." Blaise said.
"What've you got?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"Before you can get into my mind, there's a massive web." Blaise replied, still smirking. Bastard. "And there's a forty-foot Acromantula with my face on it."
"Creepy." Harry said, shuddering slightly. "I don't like Acromantulas."
"Most people don't." Blaise said airily. "What better defender?"
"True." Dumbledore said. "Mr. Longbottom? Miss Patil?"
Padma nodded slowly. "Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything, so I copied Harry's. I have no idea what his ship is, though, so I chose the Portkey box."
Again, Dumbledore twinkled as he stared at Padma, shivering slightly. "Yes... effective. I won't touch the outside of the box again. I remember what happened last time..." He nodded, before turning to Neville. At Neville's brusque nodded, Dumbledore stared. "Good lord... Professor Sprout would be proud, Mr..." He trailed off. "Where is the exit, Mr. Longbottom?"
With a smirk nearly identical to Blaise's, Neville released the Headmaster's mind. Dumbledore's head snapped back slightly. He reached up and began massaging his temples. "Yes... that's... that'll work, Mr. Longbottom."
He looked at Luna. "Would you like me to try yours, Miss Lovegood?"
Dumbledore stared at Luna for a moment, before trembling slightly. "What the devil's that, Miss Lovegood?"
"A Crumple-Horned Snorkack, Headmaster." Luna said serenely. "You might want to leave now. Mika doesn't like intruders."
Dumbledore nodded, turning away and breaking eye-contact. "Excellently done, all of you. With some work, those barriers will become even stronger, keeping your minds impenetrable." He nodded once, before turning away.
"Ooh, I bet that pissed him off." Harry said, copying Blaise's smirk. "He hates not being able to probe people's minds. Snape, too."
The 'caw' of the owls announced the arrival of the mail. There seemed to be more than normal, too. Then again, that wasn't really surprising on Valentines... until a small army of owls broke away and headed for Harry.
"Oh, crap..." He muttered, slamming his head onto the table, fortunately missing his plate of breakfast. "I hate this..."
By the time all the mail had been removed, Harry had eighty-one letters, cards and gifts. The others were no use, either, since they wouldn't stop sniggering. Bastards. Harry pushed his breakfast to one side, and began opening the mail. Marriage contract. Marriage contract. Thong... huh. Marriage contract. Card. Card. Marriage contract. Used thong... Ew. Hermione stopped laughing when she saw the underwear, realising that it was a little more serious.
"Do you need a hand, Harry?" She asked.
"Yep." He replied, putting another two marriage contracts onto the pile. "I hate this. I'm the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world, and I'm twelve. It's just... just wrong."
"Oi, 'Arry Potter?" An angry dwarf said, stomping up behind Harry. "I've got a musical valentine for you."
Harry blinked. "I'll give you five galleons if you don't deliver it."
The dwarf shrugged. "Deal."
Fishing into his pocket, Harry handed the five galleons over, sending the dwarf on his way. "So... what else have we got?"
After sorting through the pile, five cards, his bank statement and seventy-five marriage contracts. Each of them would require a hand-written response in declination. "Well... I know what homework I'm doing tonight." He said with a sigh.
That evening, in the common room, Hermione cornered him. "Here. I got you a card." She said with a blush. "I didn't want to embarrass you by giving it you in public."
"You wouldn't embarrass me." Harry said softly. "But, thank you."
He took the card and opened it. Inside was a short simple message, in Hermione's impeccable hand-writing.
To Harry,
You are my sun during the day, the earth beneath my feet, the stars during the night.
You are my everything.
Love,
Hermione
He looked up, tears in his eyes. "Thank you." He wrapped her in a tight hug, feeling his throat swell with unexpressed emotion. Hermione hugged him back fiercely, knowing that he wasn't good at stating his emotions, but knowing what he was trying to communicate.
"You're welcome."
A few days after Valentine, Harry subtly made his way down to the first floor. As he remembered, the floor outside Myrtle's bathroom was flooded, and he could hear her sobbing inside. Taking a deep breath, and gathering a hefty portion of his courage, he entered the bathroom.
"Hey, Myrtle!" He said cheerfully.
The girl looked up, stopping sobbing instantly. "Hello, Harry." She said, in what she thought was a seductive manner.
Somehow managing to avoid wrinkling his nose in disgust, since necrophilia had never been one of his kinks, he swallowed back the bile. "Are you okay? I heard you crying."
"I'm fine." Myrtle replied. "I was sitting here, crying, someone came in, and threw a book through me!"
"Threw a book through you?" Harry repeated. "That's a bit tasteless, isn't it? Not to mention bloody rude."
"I know." Myrtle agreed. "Whoever it was, they were arguing, but I didn't hear anyone else."
"Oh." Harry nodded. "Where's the book, then?"
"The girl took it with her." Myrtle replied. "By the sounds of the argument, she lost. So, she grabbed the book and left."
Oh, bollocks. Harry thought. That means that the Horcrux has a tighter hold on her this time that originally. Is this because I took it from her? Is it possible that I advanced the timescale? "Okay, Myrtle. Do you need anything?"
"Well... if you ever have some free time, come and sit with me for a while." Myrtle said. "And when you die, you're free to share my toilet with me."
"Thank you, Myrtle." Harry replied politely. "I'll... keep that in mind."
Nodding politely, he left the bathroom. This is not good. Need to find-
"No, Harry." Luna said, less than a foot from his back. "You haven't altered the timescale. It will still happen as it did. Ginny's not as strong this time around. Probably because you didn't spend the summer with the Weasleys."
Harry sighed. "How do you creep up on people, Luna?" He asked.
"No-one really pays attention, Harry, especially to little Loony Lovegood. I've never snuck up on you, though."
"I do pay attention." Harry replied. "So, things are carrying on the same?"
Luna blinked for a moment, then nodded. "Near enough, Harry. There is one more attack to come. You know which one."
Yes, I do. Hermione... Not this time. "I won't let that happen, Luna. You know that."
"I do. The timescale has not changed for that attack, either." She smiled at him. "You know where it will be, Harry. You know what to do."
As February ended and March approached, the second years were instructed to choose their electives for third through fifth year. Several of the older years saw the gang sitting on the couch, knowing that they were a fiercely intelligent bunch, and wandered over to offer some advice and support.
Harry chuckled as one of the giggly seventh years offered advice. "Well, you have five options. Arithmancy, which is basically a maths class, and really hard. Ancient Runes, which is dull as dirt, Divination, which I took and I think it's fascinating. Professor Trelawney says I have a gift."
Somehow, Harry managed to avoid rolling his eyes. It was a damned close thing, though.
"Then you've got Care of Magical Creatures, but Professor Kettleburn's really old, and missing a good number of body-parts, so I don't think he's the best teacher, really. Finally, you've got Muggle Studies. I took that, too. Not sure if it's accurate, though."
Penny Clearwater, the First-Generation sixth year prefect, snorted. "It's really not. It's about eighty years out of date, and it's taught by a pureblood who, based on their knowledge, has never stepped foot in the Muggle world."
Harry looked at his parchment. "Well, that's Muggle Studies out of the way. Besides, I'm non-magic raised. I could probably teach them a few things." Since I have knowledge of technology and computer code that would make them drool with envy. "I don't fancy Divination, either. You can't predict the future, and the idea of prophecy seems like complete bollocks to me." He ticked the remaining three options. "I think I'm gonna pick Arithmancy, 'cause I like math, Ancient Runes and Care."
Hermione looked down at her parchment, and ticked all five, as Harry had known she would.
Neville was looking at Harry closely. "You know more than anyone else, Harry. What would you suggest for me?"
Sucking air through his teeth, Harry leaned back. "I won't suggest anything for you, Neville. You'll need to make your own choice. But, I've looked into the subjects, so I can give you an overview of them, if you'd like."
"Please." Neville said gratefully.
"Okay." Harry steepled his fingers together. "Arithmancy, as much as it's described as math class, is so much more. It deals with the mechanics of spell-casting. The formulae of spells and magic. Personally, I like it because it means that you can, in theory, create new spells, or modify existing ones."
Neville nodded slowly. "Hard work?"
"Very. But rewarding. It's taught by Septima Vector, (curious that the teacher has a math name, don't you think?) one of the youngest Arithmancy masters in the field. She gained her mastery five years ago, at the tender age of 24. The textbook we'll be using is Numerology and Gramatica. Hermione's got a copy in her library trunk."
Neville nodded, before ticking his parchment, closely followed by Padma, Susan and Blaise.
"The next one is Ancient Runes. This is an incredibly complex subject, but the effects of runes are immense. Most of the Portkey box is based on runes, from the security features to the reactor itself. Runes are used in ward schemes, and is one of the main qualifications needed for a curse-breaker.
"Again, this subject is hard work and difficult, but with the right materials, you can pick it up and create an immense number of useful things. The teaching is Professor Bathsheba Babbling, and she's the third best Rune Mistress in the world. The two better currently work for the Ministry and Gringotts."
The four second years again ticked their parchments, with Blaise looking up at Harry. "You think we could see some of the runes you use on the Box."
"Suppose." Harry said softly. "They're... complex, though." As in 'post-mastery' level.
"Okay. Care of Magical Creatures pretty much speaks for itself. We all had to get a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Themat the beginning of first year. We'll end up dealing with most of the creatures in that book, from Flobberworms up to Hippogriffs. I don't know much about Professor Kettleburn, but according to the grapevine, he might not be around too much longer anyway. I think it's a useful subject because you never know when you might come across a magical creature."
Again, the four were ticking their parchment. Harry glanced round the common room to see every second year listening intently to him. With a shrug, he carried on. "Divination... personally, I think it's a bloody waste of time, but that's just me. I mean, I know that there are true seers, but if you're not one, Divination's no use to you. As a non-seer, learning to read tea leaves is a bit of a useless skill."
Luna cleared her throat, smirking at Harry.
"The final subject is Muggle Studies. I've looked at the text book. Penny's guess at being eighty years out of date is accurate. There's only the haziest mention of cars and trains, virtually nothing on planes, nothing on television, CDs or the internet. No mobiles phones, no computers... and having a pureblood teach it is pointless beyond belief. You should have at least a First-Generation teach it, or even better, a squib who's been living in the non-magical world." Like Arabella Figg, for example.
"What's an 'internet'?" Terry Boot asked. "I've never heard of one."
Harry shook his head. "Terry, there is only one internet. Think of... think of a library that can be accessed by anyone, anywhere. It has hundreds of reference sources, from cooking recipes to information regarding nuclear physics. Not to mention enough porn to last your lifetime."
Terry nodded, suitably impressed, while several girls gave Harry dirty looks. "What? I don't use porn. But, I know it's there."
"So, in your opinion," Lisa Turpin asked, "the best courses are Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures?"
Harry shook his head. "I never said that. They're the best for me. If you've ever had a vision of the future, or a prophetic dream, sign up for Divination. It's possible that course may help you enhance your gift. Don't just take my opinion on the matter. Look into it yourself, and see what you come up with."
The portrait hole opened up, revealing Professor Flitwick. "Mr. Potter?"
"Professor. You're looking rather cheery this morning, sir. Can I assume that Professor Lockhart's had a horrific accident and will be disfigured and hospitalised?" Harry looked hopeful.
Several of the older girls glared at Harry, then at Flitwick when he answered, "No... not yet. We can but hope, Mr. Potter."
"Indeed we can, sir. Indeed we can. So, what can I do for you, Professor?"
"The headmaster has asked to speak to you, Harry, regarding your course choices."
"Oh?" Harry rolled up his parchment, handing it to Professor Flitwick. "I've already made my choices, sir, but I'll be pleased to speak to the Headmaster."
"Ah, Harry. Good to see you. Won't you come in, please?" Dumbledore boomed cheerily. "How's your schoolwork coming along?"
Harry sat down, turning down one of the tainted lemon drops. "Fine, sir. Thank you for asking. Professor Flitwick said you wanted to speak to me about my electives, sir?"
"Indeed." Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk. "I was wondering if you'd made your choices."
"The notice was only posted this morning, Headmaster." Harry said.
"True, but I know you, Harry. You've no doubt researched the subjects that we offer, and have already made your decision."
Harry chuckled. "I have indeed, sir."
"Excellent, excellent. May I ask what subjects you've chosen?"
"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures, sir. They seemed the most interesting courses."
Dumbledore nodded, a small smile on his face. Harry could tell, though, that the smile was definitely forced. "May I ask why you decided against Divination, Harry?"
Harry frowned slightly. "Since I'm not a seer, sir, nor have I ever had a prophetic dream, I don't really believe in the subject. Seems very... inexact to me, sir. I prefer something a little more factual."
Dumbledore nodded again. "Perhaps, Harry, perhaps. However, I believe that you would definitely benefit from taking Divination."
"Oh? For what reason, Headmaster?" Harry asked innocently, although he knew perfectly well why. He was hoping that if Harry was exposed to Divination and Trelawney, he'd accept the existence of the prophecy more easily.
"You never know when a skill such as Divination might be useful, Harry." Dumbledore said. "And I believe, based on your past experiences, notably saving young Mr. Finch-Fletchley, that Divination would definitely help you in your scholastic career."
"As I told you at the time, Headmaster. I didn't have a vision regarding that. I just... I just knew. I don't believe in Divination, Headmaster, and considering that most magic requires strong belief to work, I would surely fail that subject."
Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe that studying Divination would be in your best interests, Harry. You could learn a lot, and I'm sure you would excel in that class."
"I'm really not interested, Headmaster." Harry said firmly. "Unless you can give me an excellent reason, I'd prefer to keep the three electives I've chosen."
Dumbledore sighed. "I really must insist on this, Harry. Divination will undoubtedly play a strong role for you in the future, and I must insist that you attend the course."
"That's certainly your right, Headmaster." Harry said. "However, I have already made my decision on the matter. And you're stepping dangerously close to breaking that oath, sir."
"Not at all." Dumbledore said amiably. "I vowed that I would not interfere in your life, except in the matters of your educational needs. As I stated, Divination would be a benefit to you."
"Why?" Harry asked, chuckling. "Is there a prophecy about me or something?"
Dumbledore froze, exactly as Harry knew he would. "What makes you ask that, Harry?"
"Well, you seem to be pushing me toward Divination, sir, even though I've said several times that I'm not interested in the subject. I just wondered if there was a reason."
"I ask that you trust me, Harry." Dumbledore said sagely. "Please, drop either Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, and take up Divination instead."
"Sorry, sir. I've already handed in my selection to Professor Flitwick." Oddly enough, because I knew you couldn't help by try something like this.
"In certain instances, Harry, I can override a person's choices, if I feel that person's choices are not in their best interests." Dumbledore tried again. "Now, which subject would you rather take? Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?"
Harry's face sobered instantly. "I would advise, sir, that you don't try to do this. I have signed up for Care, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and those are the only subjects I will take. If you do sign me up for Divination, I will have no choice but to not attend the classes. If you push me on this, Headmaster, I will have to look at other educational institutions."
Dumbledore shook his head. "You said that you wanted to work with me, Harry. Why do you distrust my judgement with regards to your education?"
"I agree, sir, that I said I'd work with you, but I never said I would unthinkingly accept your decisions. I reserve the right to make my own choices. I have chosen." Harry stood up. "Think about it, Headmaster, but think quickly. If you attempt to manipulate me through my choice of course, you will be in breach of the Unbreakable Vow. And you'll die." He turned and headed for the door. "I will be relaying this conversation to the Board of Governors and to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, sir." He opened the door. "Don't push me, sir."
Dumbledore sighed as Harry slammed the door. He will need to learn Divination. It will make the prophecy much easier for him to believe. He sighed again as he stood up. I will need to speak to Minerva and Filius as soon as possible.
Harry was fuming as he re-entered the Ravenclaw common room. Sneaky manipulative old bastard. Fortunately for Harry's blood pressure, Flitwick was still in the common room, answering questions from the other second years about what Harry had told them.
"Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked. "Are you well? You look... unsettled."
"I'm bloody annoyed, sir." Harry said brusquely. "Professor Dumbledore has decided that I must take Divination, even though I told him I'm not interested."
Flitwick frowned. "For what possible reason would he want you in Divination? Even he doesn't really believe it the subject. Why risk breaching the vow?"
"I don't know, and I don't really care, sir." Harry replied. "I just know that I won't take Divination. I told him if he pushes it, I'm gone. Sir, do you think you could inform Professor McGonagall about this? I don't want him to do an end-run around me."
Flitwick nodded. "I'm due to meet with her in an hour, Mr. Potter. I'll relay your concerns at that point." He looked at Harry with concern. "Could I recommend that you go and relax, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir." Harry replied. "I'll go and find a cricket bat and some china, I think..."
Minerva McGonagall sighed. All morning, she'd been advising her second years, with the exception of Neville Longbottom, about their career choices. Several of the older years decided to scare the second years with tales of horror and woe, notably about Care of Magical Creatures. The Weasley twins were probably the worst, spreading a story about the dragons in the Forbidden Forest that were routinely fed with new third years.
A knock on her door made her look up. "Come in." She called. She smiled when she saw Flitwick's little head pop round the door.
"Is this a bad time, Minerva?"
"No. Weasley troubles." McGonagall said with a sigh. "They've been picking on the second years again. They pulled the same tricks last year, too."
Flitwick let himself into the room, climbing up on to the chair in front of her desk. "I've just had a meeting with Mr. Potter, after he returned from a meeting with the Headmaster."
McGonagall closed her eyes. "And what is Albus trying to pull now?"
Flitwick chuckled at her immediate leap to the correct conclusion. "He was trying to force young Mr. Potter into Divination." He had to smile as McGonagall's lips thinned. She hated Divination, and by association, Sybil Trelawney.
"For what possible reason could Albus be insistent on forcing Harry into that class? We all know it's next to worthless, and only the gossipy girls and people who want an easy grade even take it."
Flitwick shrugged. "I don't know. He just insisted, probably. I think we'll need to have a little chat with the Headmaster, telling him that a student's electives are things they elect to take themselves."
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. McGonagall glanced at the mirror on her desk, which had a partner mirror outside the door. It was a trick she'd learned from Dumbledore. "It's Albus." She looked up. "Come on in, Albus."
The door opened, and Dumbledore stepped into the office. "Ah, Minerva, Filius. I was hoping to speak to the pair of you."
"What a coincidence, Albus." Flitwick said firmly. "We were hoping to speak with you, too."
Dumbledore stepped closer, taking the other chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "I imagine it's about the same subject, too. Harry Potter."
"Indeed." Flitwick said. "Would you care to explain why you feel the need to force Mr. Potter into Divination, Albus? He's already made and submitted his choices to me, and Divination was not one of them."
Dumbledore sighed. "I have a very good reason for requesting that Mr. Potter take Divination. Unfortunately, for security reasons, I cannot reveal this reason to you. However, in this case, I must insist that Mr. Potter's electives be changed to include Divination."
McGonagall slowly shook her head. "We're going to need a better reason than 'you have a very good reason', Albus."
"Minerva, I ask that you trust me in this matter, and carry out the changes I have requested."
"No." McGonagall said firmly. "Harry has chosen against Divination, and I have no reason to attempt to override that request. I believe Filius agrees with me?"
"I do." Flitwick said, equally firmly. "Can you give us a valid reason, Albus?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I cannot share it, but I do have one."
"Then we cannot, or rather, will not acknowledge this request, sir." McGonagall replied. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Albus?" She grinned evilly. "If you're this interested, I know of several second years who'd benefit from your wisdom in selecting their courses." She stood up. "In fact, now would be an excellent time. Would you care to accompany me to the Gryffindor common room?"
Dumbledore stood up hastily. "I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment, Minerva. However, I would ask you to reconsider my request for Mr. Potter. Divination will serve him well."
"No." McGonagall and Flitwick said together.
When Flitwick relayed the conversation at the end of the following Charms class, Harry grinned. "Thanks, sir."
"My pleasure, Harry." Flitwick said with a smile. "If Albus can come up with a good reason, I'll take you to one side and explain it to you, and then let you make a choice, okay?"
"Fair enough, sir." Harry said. I wonder if the old man's willing to explain the prophecy about me? Nah... he kept it close to his chest last time. This time, even more since I'm not such a gullible little weapon.
As he left, he took a glance at the calendar on the wall next to the door. Shit... it's tomorrow that Hermione gets zapped. No... tomorrow is the time she would get zapped. Not this time.
While everyone else was preparing to attend the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match, Harry was pulling on a set of fairly tight robes, that would allow him to move quickly, just in case there was a fight on his hands.
He'd seen Hermione carrying the mirror around, just in case she heard anything suspiciously hissy on the wanderings through Hogwarts.
Harry made his way to the third floor, since McGonagall had said in the original timeline that Hermione had been found near the library. As he approached the doorway, he saw Luna, with Blaise, Neville, Padma and Susan, each with their wands in hand, and clearly dressed for action.
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"Luna." Blaise, Neville, Padma and Sue said together. "She said to be here at this time. Something about it being necessary."
"Ah." Harry nodded. "And let me guess; her eyes were glowing, weren't they?"
"Yes." They answered together. "And that's still freaky."
"Actually, I think it's worse when it's your eyes, Harry." Susan said. "Hers glow white, but yours are green. It seems more... sinister, somehow."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Sinister? Me?"
"Yes. Sinister. You." Susan mimicked. "We both know that you can be sinister. Remember, I've heard some of your evil cackles. Poor Oliver Wood..."
"Ah, Harry." Dumbledore's voice came from behind him.
Shit! Harry thought angrily. Not now, old man. Not now! Swallowing back his anger, he turned. "Headmaster?"
"What are you all doing here?" He asked amiably. "I thought you'd be heading down to the Quidditch match. I'm just on my way there now. I'd be honoured to walk with you. While we're heading down, I'm sure we'd be able to carry on our discussion with regards to elective selection."
"I'm afraid we have plans for the moment, sir. We decided to not attend the Quidditch match."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What are your plans? Maybe it's something I could help you with. After all, I've been here a long time, and have plenty of life experience."
Harry snarled quietly. "Not right now, sir. Got something to do..." He trailed off as he heard a scream. In that instant, Harry had enough anger to perform an AK or a Crucio with absolutely no problems. "Excuse me, sir."
He set off at a run, heading down the corridor. When he came to the junction, he let out a pulse of magic, detecting Blink already flowing down one of the pipes. He looked down, seeing Hermione and Penny Clearwater petrified.
I could have stopped this if the old fucker hadn't got in the way! He thought angrily, glaring heavily at Dumbledore. The old man was pale-faced as he looked upon Harry's angry face.
"No." Harry said firmly. "I won't let this happen." He looked up, summoning every inch of magic, before fixing Dumbledore in a glare. "If you hadn't gotten in our way, Dumbledore, I could have stopped this." He pointed at the old man, his hand beginning to glow an oh-so-familiar green. The green of an Avada Kedavra...