Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Hello, it's me again! Yes, another one! I really can't help it! These plots just come to me and stick around until I write them down.
Anyway, this is AU, the fabled 8th year and all that. I'm treating it as if the 8th year students just return to Hogwarts as if it were any other year and resume any positions the'd had before. e.g. Harry as Quidditch Captain.
"Come on, Dean, you had that but you hesitated!"
Dean looked ashamed as his captain criticized his playing. If he wanted to remain on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, then he'd have to step up his game. "Sorry Harry, I got distracted; I mean, Ginny flew by and her hair's down and she's wearing shorts today…" He wisely trailed off at the sight of Harry's scowl.
"Right," Harry growled with gritted teeth. "Well keep your head in the game or get off the field." Harry stalked out of the change room, not looking back to see the hurt look on his roommate's face.
He didn't know what was wrong with him lately. He was awkward around Ron and Hermione because of their new couple status. He was harsh to his dorm mates, he had no patience for mistakes, and strangely, he was overly suspicious of Malfoy even though the git was definitely up to something. After he'd saved the git from the Room of Requirement during the Battle of Hogwarts, they'd been civil. Narcissa had saved him from Voldemort, and he'd even testified at their trials. Malfoy and his mother's, that is. Lucius got what he deserved. Therefore, he thought it strange that he was so suspicious of Malfoy this year. He thought al of that was behind them. Maybe it was being back in Hogwarts with all the teachers and the rules, it just seemed so childish compared to the last year on the run.
The war hero let out a thunderous sigh as he walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch. He glanced up at his team before turning away. Demelza and Ginny were tossing the quaffle back and forth, Ron was racing around the hoops and the beaters were fooling around.
He shook his head at them and started walking away. He'd taken two steps when he heard Hermione scream, "Harry, look out!" He went to turn but he felt a tremendous pain and all he knew was black.
Pain. His back, his neck, and Merlin, his head. He groaned.
"Harry?" Hermione sounded worried. She called out, "He's waking up!"
Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open only to be greeted with white and fuzziness. The hospital wing.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey seemed to be as cheerful as ever. "We were quite worried about you. Even considering all of the trouble that you manage to find yourself in, a bludger to the head is never good. Then we add a mispronounced spell into the mix… Well."
Harry blinked. "What?"
"Peakes accidentally hit a bludger at you. Demelza saw it and tried to cast the impedimenta jinx," Hermione seemed even more worried than usual. "But she mispronounced it and well, we're not sure of the effects." She bit her lip.
Harry blinked again. "Oh." He took it all in. "Didn't I teach that jinx in the DA meetings? How could she mispronounce it?" He sighed in irritation. "Are we sure it even did anything?"
Pomfrey clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Yes, but we're not sure of the exact effects. So I'll be keeping you overnight for observation."
Harry groaned. Of course. He talked with Hermione until Pomfrey ushered her out and gave him a sleeping potion.
The hospital wing was quiet in the dead of the night and not a creature was stirring, except for Harry.
His eyes were fluttering, his eyebrows furrowed, his head tossing. In his head he saw pictures. So many pictures, so many numbers.
A man walking near a cliff, a man in a cloak with the infinity symbol, a cloaked woman in a headdress, a woman in white, a man on a throne, a cloaked man who seemed to be preaching, a naked couple, a person riding in some sort of chariot, a woman petting a lion, an old man with a lantern, a wheel in the sky, a figure cloaked in red on a throne, a man hanging upside down from a tree, a black-armored man on a white horse, an angel, a devil, a dangerous looking tower, a naked woman and a star, animals howling at the moon, a figure riding a horse under the sun, a group of people looking to an angel for guidance, a naked woman wrapped in cloth, a series of pictures involving cups, a series of pictures involving pentacles, a series of pictures involving swords, and a series of pictures involving staves.
He sat up, eyes wide open, panting. It took him an hour to get back to sleep.
"How was your night Mr. Potter?"
Harry frowned. "Strange. I had weird dreams; all these people and symbols. I have no idea who or what they were."
Madam Pomfrey frowned back. "I see. Your scans report an anomaly with your magic. I'll be keeping you another night. Drink this potion after you finish your breakfast." She put the small vial on the table beside his bed. With that the matron returned to her office.
Harry finished his porridge dutifully. It never tasted as good as the porridge in the Great Hall. After putting his tray on the table beside him, Harry uncorked the vial. He didn't care what it was; he simply downed it. Not a minute later he was fast asleep.
When he awoke the next morning, Madam Pomfrey told him he'd had visitors. Hermione had come to sit with him, as had Neville, Luna, and strangely enough, Parvati. Even Headmistress McGonagall had stopped by. When asked, she told him that although Ron had walked up with the rest of the team, he didn't stay and that Ginny hadn't visited at all.
"Am I allowed to go today, Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey simply stared at him. She'd spent a great deal of time with Mr. Potter in the hospital wing over the years and he'd never addressed her by her first name. He'd always seemed to dislike the hospital wing but he listened to her orders well enough and he'd always treated her respectfully. She was caught off guard.
"Well Mr. Potter, your scans show nothing out of the ordinary in regard to your magic and everything else seems to be fine as well. Did you have anymore strange dreams?"
Harry shook his head. "No strange dreams, just the regular teenage fare." He grinned at her cheekily.
Madam Pomfrey couldn't help but blush. A student hadn't been so forward since Sirius Black. "Lovely, I'm sure. It seems you're fit to go Mr. Potter." She pulled the curtain around his bed. "Now get dressed and stay out of trouble."
Harry wandered the halls after he was released from the hospital wing. His original plan was to head toward the Great Hall; it would be time for lunch soon. But as he was on his way there, he felt drawn to go in another direction. Contemplating it, he shrugged and decided to see what happened.
He was wondering if he was ever going to stop. He was on the seventh floor already. That was when he recognized the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and the blank stretch of wall across from it. The Room of Requirement. He stopped, not feeling the need to go further.
He couldn't help but wonder if it still worked after the fire and all. He paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. 'I need to see why I came here.'
To his surprise, the door appeared. He'd thought his wording was much too vague.
He slowly opened the door.
The room was quite small and the walls and ceiling were draped with colourful material. The effect was similar to that of the Champions' tent of the Triwizard Tournament. In the center of the room was a medium-sized circular table, the tablecloth a deep purple. Sitting on the table was a deep purple cloak and an emerald brooch, a deck of cards, and a book. He barely glanced at the cloak and went straight for the cards. The backs of the cards were designed with an intricate golden eye on a background of the purest white although Harry found that when he tilted the cards, they seemed to be different colours; a prism effect. He shook his head and looked at the faces of the cards instead. A man near a cliff, the naked couple, the wheel, the man hanging upside down, the cups, the pentacles, the swords, the staves. These cards were from his dream! He frowned and looked next at the book. The Art of Tarot.
Oh. Oh.
The entire Great Hall stopped eating to look around as the doors were suddenly thrown open in the middle of dinner. The student body watched dazedly as Harry Potter swooped in. Behind him, levitating in the air was a table with a deep purple tablecloth. In his arm was a purple bunch of material, in his hand a deck of cards. He paused for a moment and looking around before nodding in decision. He stalked purposefully to an area near the end of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, just off from the main doors. With a flourish of his wand, he set the table on the floor and then a deep purple tent appeared in the air and floated to the floor as directed. The staff and students stared as Harry entered the tent with nary a word. The tent was very nice looking; the shape reminiscent of the main tent at a circus.
They waited for Harry to come out. He didn't.
Headmistress McGonagall sighed as she got to her feet to deal with it. She headed toward the tent and swept inside.
The tent was lit with candlelight and the stone floor was covered in a luxurious black carpet. The table was in the center of the tent and directly in front of her was a comfortable looking stool. On the opposite side of the table sat Harry wearing a deep purple cloak with the hood hiding his face, held closed with an emerald brooch. He sat shuffling the cards. An air of mystery surrounded him.
When McGonagall didn't immediately sit down, he looked up at her with a secretive smile. "Hello Headmistress. Why don't you sit down, would you like me to tell you your fortune?"