Disclaimer this is the one and only time I will put this in, I don't own anything recognizable from the books. The series is done and now all we have left is the way it could've been.
VERYIMPORTANTAUTHOR'SNOTE. In case you didn't understand the summary. This is an alternate version of Reunion with Darknesspertaining to the encounter with the trio and the marauders. I will also be taking a poll to see which you like better . If this is chosen I will most likely replace the necessary chapter's this goes from their first encounter with Lily to the confrontation with Peter
Authors note 2 the flying lesson scene is pretty much identical except that the escapees do not reveal themselves if you wish to skip over the majority of the redundant portion these skip down to the page break
Chapter Eighteen
Flight and Fright
by Empathicallychosen
"There is no better than adversity. Every defeat, every heartbreak, every loss, contains its own seed, its own lesson on how to improve your performance the next time."- Malcolm X
Things in the castle were more insane than ever and as Halloween grew closer it had gotten almost impossible for Harry, Ron and Hermione to find any time alone. The day before Halloween Harry and Ron stumbled down the stairs that led to the boy's dormitory expecting to be mobbed by the entire house as usual but Harry couldn't help noticing that the group had a definite gap in it this morning. All of the first years had abandoned their quest to terrorize their roommates and were instead huddled around a bright yellow notice tacked to the far corner of the room.
"What's going on over there," Ron asked Fred when he realized that his brother was eyeing his wristwatch in a rather hungry fashion.
"What," said Fred startled forcing himself to take his eyes off the watch and glance in the direction of the other first years. "Oh that, it's nothing, you have your first flying lesson this morning."
At these words both Hermione and Ron glanced instinctively over at Harry whose expression had gone strangely wooden. James promised he would teach me to fly. Harry didn't know why he felt so hurt all of the sudden. In the grand scheme of the lies and betrayal committed by the marauders the broken promise was fairly minor but it stung in Harry's heart in just the same way as everything else.
The three friends did their best to ignore their feelings and the excitement of their fellow first years as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. It wasn't easy, especially after they open the thick oak doors and walked inside. Not only were they bombarded by the extra emotions of the Ravenclaws, Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs, but they were also forced to endure Draco Malfoy who was boasting loudly so that all four house tables could hear him easily. Harry, Ron and Hermione were startled by how much the pureblood boy reminded them of Dudley Dursley.
". . . Of course that old Mudblood-loving nincompoop didn't want to allow it but Father convinced the other school governors it was in everyone's best interests. Mother is sending my broom so that I can use it in our flying lesson today. It's all just a formality of course . . . Professor Snape already promised me a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He and Father are very close, you know."
Harry, Ron and Hermione shook their heads and sat down to their porridge. All around them the other first years at the Gryffindor in Slytherin tables were bubbling over with excitement. Under normal circumstances the mood in the Great Hall would revitalize the three empaths. Today however Harry found himself feeling more withdrawn as the excitement grew. He tried to shake himself out of his melancholy attitude but the more he told himself it didn't matter, the more he told himself James wasn't worth the pain the more he knew it wasn't true. Harry was pulled out of his stupor again as they left the Great Hall when Malfoy stopped ranting about how he was destined to be the greatest Quidditch player Hogwarts had ever seen long enough to shove Hermione's arm so hard that she stumbled into Harry.
"That little worm is really testing my patience," grumbled Ron as Malfoy passed them.
"As if our flying lesson wasn't going to make me miserable enough. Now we have to suffer through another hour with him," Harry said gloomily. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was all apart of James's master plan."
Harry tried to focus on the levitating charm Professor Flitwick was showing them but it was no use. All he could do was think about the hundreds of things he had seen the marauders levitate which brought Harry back to the painful reality of their fast approaching flying lesson. Ron suggested faking ill but as Hermione pointed out Madam Pomfrey would be able to tell he was just pretending in a matter of seconds. Harry hadn't been too keen on the idea in the first place.
If Harry told the nurse that he was ill she would likely send someone to fetch Remus and his cover would be blown either way. Harry had spent the entire month of August coming up with excuses of why he could not get on his Nimbus and his uncle was becoming more and more suspicious every day. In the end Harry was unable to come up with an excuse to miss the class so dejectedly he walked down to the pitch with Ron and Hermione.
Despite the excitement from the other first years Harry couldn't help but notice one other person seemed almost as miserable as he was. Neville Longbottom had been giving off an aura of utter terror all morning. Now that it was time for the lesson to start, Neville was trembling. As he drudged past them, Harry couldn't help but notice that the boy was looking distinctly green. When they had at last, reached the spot where the lesson was about to take place they saw two rows of ten broomsticks lying harmlessly on the ground.
The class didn't have to wait very long for their instructor to arrive. Seconds after the Gryffindors had seated themselves on the grass waiting for their professor, their teacher, Madam Hooch, came striding across the pitch. Harry only knew Madam Hooch by sight. He had seen her a few times in the corridors on his way to class that however was not the reason he recognized her.
Although her hair was now a few inches shorter and she had more gray on top than Harry remembered he would have recognized this woman from a mile away. Harry could never forget the way Madam Hooch's bright yellow hawk-like eyes would glisten with a furious kind of pride whenever she saw Harry's father. Harry definitely wouldn't have to pretend he was ill anymore. It was just too bad that it was too late to go to the nurse now.
"What are you all sitting around for? Those brooms aren't going to fly themselves. I want everyone to go stand by a broom," she barked impatiently. "Quickly now, quickly. Don't be shy. The brooms aren't going to bite."
Easy for you to say, Harry thought. He been feeling very jumpy ever since Seamus Finnigan had informed them that his parents were getting closer to Hogwarts but out here on the exposed grounds Harry was feeling particularly hypersensitive. He definitely felt as though someone was watching him. He shook his head. His paranoia wasn't going to do him any good. All he could do was stay focused on the task at hand.
Harry looked down and stared determinedly at the broom that lay at his feet. It was certainly nothing like his Nimbus 2000. It was very old, and the twigs at the tail of the broom were sticking up in every direction. Unlike the glossy finish of Harry' s Nimbus 2000 the school broomsticks were well-worn and were covered with a multitude of scratches. It certainly looked remarkably shabby in comparison to Malfoy's broomstick, a shiny red broom with silver cursive lettering that read, Comet 260.
"All right, is everyone ready?. . . good . . . Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch instructed marching up and down the rows of students, "Very good now everyone kindly repeat after me, 'Up!'"
The class did as they were told and Harry's borrowed broomstick found its way into his outstretched hand. Looking around he noticed that very few broomsticks had obeyed the order. In spite of himself Harry felt quite pleased. Ron on the other hand seemed more than a bit irritated. The broom had come up on his second try which was better than most - unfortunately rather than flying straight into his hand as Harry's broom had done the broom handle instead came in contact with Ron's nose causing Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins to burst into hysterics.
However Hermione's mood was much worse than Ron's. Hermione had always been good at anything she did without even trying. sadly she learned rather quickly that when it came to flying she just wasn't very good. She was feeling rather unaccomplished because it took her eight tries just to get the broom to come to her hand. Whether or not Hermione liked the idea of flying ( and she most certainly did not,) she disliked not being good at it even more than her fear of heights.
Although it was true that most of the students had grabbed hold of their brooms by their fifth or sixth attempts Harry thought Hermione could at least be grateful she had done better than Neville. The poor boy had been trying for five minutes to no avail. To Harry, Ron and Hermione's dismay most of the class found Neville's plight rather amusing and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
When at last there was movement the broom was actually moving away from Neville which made the laughter much worse. When Neville had finally grabbed hold of his broom heavily aided by Madam Hooch, the flight professor who looked rather exhausted once again walked up and down the rows of students correcting their grips thus insuring none of her students would slip off the end.
"No, no, Mr. Malfoy, you're doing it all wrong," she said stopping in front of Draco for the third time.
Harry tried to suppress a smile as Malfoy swelled like a bullfrog. On either side of him Hermione and Ron were struggling to keep their amusement under control. It was very hard not to burst into laughter as Hermione erupted into silent giggles while Ron developed a mysterious coughing fit. The temptation to laugh only increased, the angrier Malfoy became. This was partially due to the fact that the rest of the Gryffindors were not as discrete with their satisfaction. Malfoy's cheeks flushed pale pink and Harry suddenly found himself feeling sorry for the boy.
"This is the way I'd been doing it for years! My father says that I am a natural. Mother says I could be on a professional Quidditch team if I wanted to," Draco retorted stubbornly.
"They have rather high hopes for you then," replied Madam Hooch as the students erupted into laughter again, correcting his grip one last time she turned to Harry. "An excellent stance Mr. Potter, five points for Gryffindor. Everyone see here, look at the way Mr. Potter holds his broomstick!"
Harry felt his face go red as all eyes turned to him. His hold on the broom beneath his fingers tightened as a new wave of loathing washed over him. Harry was quite certain he knew to whom the feeling belonged. Malfoy was glaring at him with a new wave of hatred. However, Harry could not allow himself to become too concerned with the blonde boy's emotions. The battle going on in his own soul was too great.
Part of him wanted nothing to do with flying because it reminded him too much of his father and godfather. At the same time there was another part of him that was both pleased and exhilarated by Madam Hooch's praise. Both sensations were fighting for control and Harry didn't know what to do. He really wanted to get on the broom, but if he did, wouldn't that mean he was trying to be like his father? Harry shivered.
"Very good now that everyone has mounted their brooms there are a few rules I want you all to remember . . . "
But Harry never heard a word of Madam Hooch's warning because her words were drowned out by a very familiar howling sound. Nervously Harry glanced around at his classmates but no one apart from Hermione and Ron seemed to notice the noise. Then again perhaps it wasn't so peculiar that no one else seemed to care about the dreadful howling of a bear-sized dog.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were after all the only ones on the pitch who knew about Sirius's Animagus form. Hermione dropped her broom to the ground and looked around wildly. Ron though visibly paler did not show his fear but Harry could tell he had gone on the defensive. Harry too, felt his body tensing up and his senses were increased tenfold but he thought that it would be very unlikely for the Marauders to attack them now.
It wasn't that Harry had deluded himself into thinking that a large group of students would deter them. Harry knew that his parents probably would not mind killing the entire class, they were after all mass murders, and even though Madam Hooch was well versed with the latest Quidditch techniques she was not the greatest when it came to using her wand. Still Harry felt safe in knowing that Lily, James and Sirius were far too clever to attack so close to the castle. It was just too close to Dumbledore. Even deranged serial killers knew enough not to try anything under Albus Dumbledore's nose.
Surprisingly, it did not bother Harry knowing that Sirius was watching him. In truth he had expected nothing less from his godfather as much as he hated Padfoot Harry knew that if Sirius meant to kill him he was brilliant enough to do it strategically, which of course meant stalking his victims. No, the thing that shook Harry to the core happened only seconds later just as Harry was about to take off a voice crept into the back of his mind, a voice that sounded remarkably like his father.
Don't do it Harry! That old crow can't teach you a fraction of what I know. I'm your father and teaching you to fly is my right! Harry felt his body beginning to shake. How dare James play with his mind this way? Where was all his fatherly concern ten years ago? It was then and there that Harry decided he would not only complete the flying lesson, he was going to excel at it. He would show James and Sirius he didn't need them for anything.
Harry heard the whistle blow and kicked off as hard as he could. The lamented howling of the dog was so loud that no one could ignore it now. But Harry didn't care he allowed himself to drown out the sound of Padfoot and instead focused all of his energy on what the professor was telling them. He listened more closely to Madam Hooch then anyone else in the class and before he knew it he was Madam Hooch's star pupil. He could even out do Draco Malfoy, who despite all of his boasting and bad habits was actually quite good.
Harry started out the day thinking that flying would remind him of James and Sirius. But to Harry's amazement he found that once he was in the air with the wind whipping his face all of Harry's concerns floated away from his body. It was such a miraculous feeling Harry never wanted it to end. He was certain that if he stayed up there long enough James, Lily and Sirius would become nothing more than a distant memory unfortunately he had to go back into the castle for lunch. Luckily, a few hours later Cedric asked Harry and Ron if they would help him prepare for the Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts and they readily agreed much to the annoyance of Fred and George.
"You know, for a first-year you're quite good Harry," Cedric called after Harry pulled out of a very spectacular dive, tiny struggling snitch in hand.
"For a Gryffindor you mean," Harry said with a wink. "You're not so bad yourself . . . you know- for a Hufflepuff."
Both boys burst into fits of laughter. However, their mirth was short lived. Ron's face had gone paler than the Bloody Baron. Even more alarming was the fact that he was shaking so hard he almost fell off his broom. Harry's heart sank. He knew there were only two things in the world that frightened his best friend and there were no spiders way up here. Cedric started to ask what was wrong but Harry cut across him quickly.
Where," he said urgently.
Ron pointed directly below him and Harry got a quick glimpse of some kind of animal before it sped off quickly toward the edge of the forest. Against his better judgment Harry found himself chasing after the creature. The speed of his broom was in sync with the rate at which his heart was pounding in his chest. Then he spotted it as well, a proud stag standing on top of a hill staring up at them. Harry was taken aback by how well he could make out the features.
Even in its emaciated state the animal was quite impressive. Then it struck him, if he could see the stag then the stag could see him. It did seem as though Prongs knew he was there. The stag kept looking to the sky and pawing the ground expectantly. He wanted Harry to come to him and was becoming quite upset over his son's blatant refusal to do so. Harry's first instinct was to fly into the clouds where Prongs could not find him but before he got the chance Cedric caught up with them.
"What - in the world - is wrong - with you," he huffed breathlessly.
"Look, we're sorry we left you back there but we have to get back to the castle right now," said Ron unable to mask the desperation in his voice.
Cedric looked rather alarmed at the fervency of his companion, "Why? What's the matter?"
Before Harry could respond they were bombarded by an overexcited fifth-year boy who was staring at Harry like the younger boy was an answer to his prayers. He circled around Harry several times causing Harry to feel like a wounded animal in the desert that was being stalked by a vulture. The fifth-year analyzed Harry without a word. Harry let out an agitated sigh. He wasn't in the mood for this! He craned his neck as much as he could to see over the boy's shoulder but Prongs had disappeared. He then began to search the surrounding areas in desperation but it was no use.
"Can we help you," snapped Ron angrily.
Abruptly the fifth-year stopped in his tracks. He seemed to realize that he had been rude and yet he was too distracted by Harry to be too concerned with his attitude. Harry who was beginning to calm down found himself both fascinated and amused. The boy who seemed a bit out of touch with reality himself was a perfect distraction for Harry, for the moment anyway.
Even though the boy had stopped circling Harry he had not yet broken eye contact or said one word to any of them. Harry glanced over at Cedric who shrugged struggling not to laugh at the uncomfortable look on his friend's face. After a few moments of the most unpleasant silence Harry had ever been a part of, he Ron and Cedric decided to ignore the boy and continue back to the school, they landed and so did the boy, as a matter of fact he shadowed the threesome every step of the way back to the castle and into the Great Hall as they took the shortcut to the Hufflepuff's common room. Harry was getting very tired of this and found that he could not ignore the boy any longer.
"What is your problem " he snapped more viciously then he intended to.
However misplaced his anger was it seemed to do the trick. The fifth-year boy jerked out of his stupor at once. Even when he was out of his hypnotized state Harry found that something about this boy was still a little bit alarming. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed completely oblivious to Harry's standoffish behavior. Or perhaps it was the hungry way he kept staring at him. Harry tried to suppress the urge to say something rude again when miraculously the burly fifth-year boy actually spoke. Later on passersby would describe the conversation as one of the most awkward to have ever happened in the halls of Hogwarts.
"Sorry 'bout that sorta got lost in my thoughts I suppose," the boy told them.
"Sort of," Cedric repeated trying to stifle a chuckle.
Staring only at Harry the fifth-year boy acted as though he could not even see Cedric standing there, "You're James Potter's boy, aren't you?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Harry hoping his cold demeanor would help the boy understand Harry did not want to talk about it.
"This is like a dream come true for me. Your dad has been my idol since as long as I can remember -. . ."
"That's an odd choice in role models if you ask me. You are aware the man was a Death Eater aren't you," said Cedric with a sideways glance at Harry.
"Who cares about that. I mean the man was a world-class broom designer and the best chaser the England All-Stars ever had! Anyway," the fifth-year continued. "The name's Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
A rather ominous feeling came over Harry as he replied, "Nice to meet you. Is there something I can do for you?"
"I just heard the most awful news. The Slytherins have a first-year playing seeker for them in the match next week. As you must know that is a most unfair advantage to the rest of the houses. It's a seeker's job to be light and speedy and really how much lighter can you get than a scrawny little first year," Oliver said rapidly starting to pace around once more.
"Well thanks," said Ron sarcastically.
Yet again Oliver took no notice of his surroundings as he continued on with his story, "So naturally I went out for a quick fly around the pitch to clear my head when who do I find but you-"
"Not that I don't find this fascinating, but what does all this have to do with me," Harry asked dreading that he already knew the answer.
"You're the scrawniest first-year of them all! So obviously you have to be my new seeker," Oliver concluded dramatically.
Harry had been afraid that was where Wood was going nevertheless hearing the words aloud made Harry's stomach churn. Going through with his flying lesson was one thing joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team was quite another, especially as the seeker. Yes, it was true that technically Sirius had been a Beater in school and his father held the position of Chaser but everyone knew that James had a fixation with snitches. What everyone didn't know was that Harry inherited his father's fascination with the tiny ball and while Remus and Sirius preferred to use the general terms pup and cub when speaking to the children, when James felt the need to use a nickname for Harry it was always "my young seeker."
True, James never called him that very often outside of conversations where they were discussing Quidditch just the same the thought still sent shivers down Harry's spine. He wasn't quite certain what made him feel so uncomfortable, whether it was the moniker itself or the fact that for years before he found out who James really was Harry had strived to be come seeker and make his father proud, or maybe it was the fact that he had somehow inadvertently achieved his dream. The boy didn't know which of these things were causing Harry to want to vomit all over Oliver Wood. All he knew was that he Had to fight hard not to follow that urge. Harry was brought back to reality by a sharp pain in his left foot. Slowly coming to his senses, Harry realized that Ron must have stomped on his left foot to remind Harry that the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was still waiting for his answer.
"As heartfelt as that offer was, I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn you down," said Harry trying his best to sound remorseful.
The feeling that overwhelmed him when he turned away from Wood was confusion and not only from Oliver but from Cedric as well. Cedric kept insisting that Harry was quite possibly one of the best seekers that he had ever seen and he could not understand why Harry had refused the position. Harry didn't know what to do he wanted his friend to feel like Harry could confide in him. But what could he say? He couldn't very well tell Cedric the truth. Cedric however was the least of Harry and Ron's worries as they walked the boy back to his common room, Oliver continued to follow them speaking nonstop about why Harry needed to reconsider his offer. He continued to ramble as they bid goodbye to their friend and continued on to their own common room to find Hermione. By the time Ron and Harry had entered the common room both boys heads were spinning with the latest Quidditch statistics along with the rest of Woods mindless blather and Ron's temper was reaching a dangerous high. After fifteen minutes the entire Gryffindor common room was becoming agitated as well which was very dangerous empathically.
"Oh for heaven's sake Harry, just say yes so we can all get on with our lives," spat Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan moodily.
Harry who couldn't think of any acceptable reason he could tell Oliver no, reluctantly agreed and at long last a happy Oliver Wood left Harry in peace so that he could devise a strategy for his newly perfected team. Harry slid into the nearest armchair and stared dejectedly into the fire. He didn't know how long he'd sat there or what was going on around him while he was lost in his reverie all he knew was that he was furious. He was furious with Wood for pushing him into the seeker position. He was furious with himself because deep down he was actually quite pleased that he had made the team. But most of all Harry was furious with James for putting him through this torrent of emotions.
As he watched the fire crackle and spit Harry could almost hear the laughter of his father's teenage self as he tried patiently to explain to Harry, Ron, and occasionally even Hermione the delicate complexities of Quidditch. James had been Harry's truest confidant. Harry just couldn't understand how his father could betray him the way he had when the teenage version of his father put himself in harm's way many times to protect a boy he hardly even knew. Especially considering that the adult version of James was not willing to do the same for a baby he brought into the world and raised for the first year of its life.
"Putting James aside for a moment you still like Quidditch don't you," Hermione asked jerking Harry from his brooding.
Harry was slightly taken back by the question. Would he still like Quidditch if he never knew James? Would he still resist being on the team if he had never known that James had been a chaser? What if James had never come up with that particular nickname? Would Harry mind being a seeker in a world where James didn't exist? Thinking only of the aspects of the game itself Harry pondered these questions for a few moments before deciding that he did enjoy Quidditch. Even though he knew these things Harry still found a hard to admit them out loud so instead of speaking he merely nodded.
"Then the way I see it by avoiding something that you enjoy just because James used to enjoy it too is only letting him win. If we want to be brave then we can't hold resentment toward them Harry. We can't let them have even a portion of ourselves. It would just be wasting space," Hermione stated firmly.
Harry knew she was right. He knew it wouldn't be easy letting go of his parents. Still he knew it was something that he had to do. It wasn't about ignoring what they had done it was about freeing himself. He could never be free to be who he wanted to be if even a fraction of himself was holding on to that anger and knowing all of this made Harry feel much better.
He was actually looking forward to the new position when Remus's head suddenly appeared in the fireplace demanding that Harry, Ron and Hermione come to his office. Harry didn't know what his uncle wanted but he was glad Remus had summoned them nonetheless. Harry hadn't noticed how emotionally drained he had been until that precise moment and he was dying for the moral boost the Animagus would provide.
As Harry, Ron and Hermione dragged themselves down to Remus's office their feet felt as though the threesome had just been fitted for cement boots. Even worse with every student they passed another raw, powerful emotion was heaped upon them stronger than ever before. This of course made them even more lethargic which resulted in making Remus wait a very long time for his nephew, godson, and adopted niece to at last work their way to his office. Harry gave a very pathetic knock before Remus beckoned them inside. On the other side of the door Harry was met not only by Remus but Victoria as well. This was not unusual for Harry because now that Remus and Victoria were seeing each other he could hardly see one without the other. Not that Harry minded, Harry couldn't have been happier for his uncle. Harry liked Victoria and she made Remus happy which was all Harry really wanted.
No, it was not at all unusual to see her there what was peculiar was the couple's behavior toward Harry. Their faces showed anger but their emotions told Harry they were quite elated. Unfortunately Harry's exhausted brain began to panic. Was he in trouble? What had he done? Nonplussed Harry turned to Hermione and Ron but neither one of them could understand the situation either. There was an uncomfortable silence where Victoria and Remus stared at the threesome unblinkingly. Harry didn't know what to do should he say something or stay quiet, the two desires fought with one another until Harry could no longer stand it.
"Er . . . - Moony? Is something wrong?"
"I have to say Harry, I'm very disappointed in you," Remus said sternly.
Harry's heart sank, "Why? What did I do?"
Rather unexpectedly Victoria began to pace the room staring at Harry with wild eyes. Harry was flabbergasted. He had never seen Victoria so unbalanced before. Once again he turned desperately to Ron and Hermione for help and again they didn't seem to know what to do. Hermione was fascinated by Victoria's drastic change of mood and began studying her every step. Ron on the other hand looked quite uncomfortable. He was an eleven-year-old boy who could barely handle it when Hermione hugged him or heaven forbid she started to cry. There was definitely no way he could handle Victoria going completely off her rocker. He stared back at Harry with his eyebrows raised and began shuffling his feet as though he desperately wanted to run out the door.
"Tori, what's the matter," Hermione asked cautiously.
This definitely seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Victoria threw her arms up in the air and began to rant all the while staring down at Harry.
"WHAT'S WRONG? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG . . . WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WANDERING AROUND THE CASTLE WITHOUT TELLING US THAT YOU MADE THE GRYFFINDOR'S QUIDDITCH TEAM?"
All at once the mood in Remus's office changed. The young couple had gone from angry to overjoyed in seconds and then Harry was struck by the obvious, it had all been an act Remus and Victoria were simply playing a trick on them. Coming to the realization so late made Harry feel a bit foolish but he found himself smiling all the same. Hermione erupted into giggles and readily admitted they had fooled her as well which made Harry feel even better. Ron on the other hand did not find the situation amusing in the least
"Merlin! What in the world is the matter with you? Are you trying to give me a heart attack," he questioned indignantly.
"I'm sorry dear, we just couldn't resist," Victoria replied apologetically.
"You're a twisted couple, you are. We ought to have the pair of you committed to St. Mungo's," Ron retorted grudgingly
Seeming to realize how much she had really worried Ron, Victoria rushed over and engulfed Ron in an enormous hug. This of course distressed Ron even more. After a few moments Remus walked over to the pair of them offering his own apology that was less than convincing when he mentioned as an afterthought that the look on Ron's face was priceless.
After separating Ron and Victoria Remus walked over to his desk and as was his style sat cross-legged on top of it. Harry chuckled with unexplainable joy when an immediate sensation of warmth washed over him. Harry was suddenly aware that Remus had turned his attention back to his nephew with his face screwed up in mock concentration. Remus was one of the few people who knew about Harry's childhood admiration for the Golden snitch and judging by Remus's reaction he wasn't the least bit surprised that Harry made the team.
"Wait - . . . No, don't tell me you're the . . . seeker," he said finally. He was smiling to himself as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry nodded mutely waiting for Remus to smile one more time before lunging into the explanation of what had happened earlier that morning. He of course avoided telling Remus about the real reasons for his hesitation saying that he was worried about the intense emotions that normally accompanied a Quidditch game. Remus's emotion change from overjoyed to suspicious in a matter of seconds. Luckily for Harry rather than confronting his nephew Remus decided to put it in the back of his mind and to bring it up later. Instead he focused on making sure Harry knew how proud he was of the boy. Harry was very confused by this.
Remus was acting as though he were the first of the first years to make one of the Quidditch teams in a hundred years and as awful as it was that title belonged to Draco Malfoy. Remus responded by telling Harry that Draco made the team because of his father whereas Harry made the team on his merits alone and that was something to be proud of. Harry tried to change the subject by claiming that he couldn't be sure his making the team didn't have anything to do with James considering the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain's bizarre obsession with anything having to do with James's Quidditch career and broomstick designs to which Remus responded by rolling his eyes at Harry's lack of self-esteem.
All in all Harry left Remus's office feeling considerably happier. It was like all of his worries had melted away and he couldn't help but be happy. any other feeling would have just been ridiculously out of place. Harry's good mood continued as he dressed the next morning and went downstairs. It couldn't even be shaken by the aggressive mob of students or their horribly inappropriate questions, as a matter of fact Harry left the common room humming.
His utterly giddy mood only grew when the mail arrived and he realized that his grandfather had sent Harry his Nimbus 2000 and a very long letter in which Aidan reiterated everything Remus had told Harry the night before. This time however the words took on a whole new meaning when Draco Malfoy caught sight of the vastly superior broom in Harry's hand and realized that he was no longer the only first-year to make one of the Quidditch teams. The result was that Malfoy had what could only be described as a tantrum two rival one of Dudley Dursley's. perhaps due to some kind of karma all of this happened in the Great Hall where all of the other students were watching and the laughter of the rest of the students was loud enough to shake the support beams.
Most of the classes on Halloween morning were drastically easier than usual. Apparently none of the teachers wanted to even try and teach the students while they were so excited about the holiday. The exception to this was there potions class and Harry didn't have to guess why. Snape didn't care how wild the children were, he would have sooner eaten an entire jar of pickled toad stools before he would celebrate anything to do with Harry, Ron or Hermione. They ignored it and soon they found themselves dining at the Halloween feast among live bats, (which did not go over well with some of the girls,) and floating jack-o'-lanterns.
"Wow," Ron exclaimed as he and Harry got into their beds that night. "All this time I've been dreading Halloween and if you tell anyone I'll deny it -but I actually had fun tonight."
Harry nodded his agreement and got into his bed. He had really expected the pandemonium to be much worse than it was. Of course people whispered, they talked and although it was true that he, Hermione and Ron entered the Great Hall to thunderous applause Harry had actually spent the day feeling more normal than he had ever felt in his entire life. He had spent the day talking, joking and laughing with his classmates. The feast had been spectacular, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so much. Maybe Remus's right, maybe we do belong here . . . Harry thought as he drifted off to sleep . . . Still I'm not going to tell him that. He'd never let me forget it . . .
Despite Harry's extraordinarily pleasant day Harry was suffering from a dreadful nightmare. It was a dream that was so real and so horrendous Harry wanted nothing more than to wake up and never dream again. Unfortunately no matter how hard the boy tried to do it he soon found that waking up was impossible so hopelessly he stared at the scene before him and prayed to the heavens that it would be over soon. It was a very strange dream a dream about the death of his mother. The odd thing was rather then being relieved as everyone kept telling Harry he would be Harry was traumatized.
"NO! MUM! NO," Harry called out wildly.
But it was no use, Harry was at last being ripped from the dream. He kept his eyes shut tight, reluctant to join the real world. Maybe if he just lay there long enough he wouldn't have to face his fate. As the mortifying details of the dream faded he was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He knew he was in the familiar dormitory and he knew that the other boys in the dormitory were all asleep because he could hear all of them snoring but something wasn't right.
With his eyes still firmly closed he lay there allowing his other senses to take over. He could feel the presence of someone seated at his side, but what were they doing? He waited a few more seconds and then he could hear the stranger, whoever it was they were crooning softly to him and Harry felt oddly comforted. The sound of the voice was melodic and incredibly hypnotizing.
"Don't cry sweetie, its okay. Hush now darling, it was just a bad dream. I'm right here - I'm here and
you're safe," the voice murmured softly.
Logically Harry knew he should get up but then the stranger soft hands gently brushed the sweaty strands of hair from his eyes and the little voice in the back of his mind was silenced. How could someone so tender do anything to hurt him? The smell that filled the air was sweet, subtle and intoxicating. As his common sense rushed back to him for the first time in his life, Harry was thankful for his empathic defenses because he recognized that scent and he knew who the stranger was.
In a flash Harry jolted upward, the person beside him jumped back in shock Harry opened his eyes squinted through the darkness and there she stood looking just as shocked as he did. She was definitely more skeletal than Harry remembered but her features were unmistakable. Harry couldn't move his body was frozen caught between terror and disbelief so he did the only thing he could think of and screamed as loudly as he could.
"Shush Angel, shush. Harry please . . . I know what you must think . . . oh yes, I'm sure they've filled your head with all sorts of stories . . . - but you have to let me explain . . . please," she begged.
But it was too late, the other boys in the dormitory had all woken up and were scrambling to see what the matter was. The woman cursed. Harry heard Neville call out to him asking in a squeaky voice if he was all right but Harry couldn't answer, his eyes were transfixed on hers. The next thing Harry heard was Seamus fumbling with his night stand. Probably going to find his camera to take pictures of my mangled body, Harry thought wryly. He could hear Ron fumbling his way to his best friend in the dark and still he could not tear his eyes from her face. Light flooded the room and someone pulled back the curtains around Harry's bed.
"What are you doing here Lily, " Ron demanded in a shaky voice that was at least several octaves higher than his natural one.