Alright, here goes… I haven't posted anything in a while,
so let's give this one more go. By the
by, I'm going to try to write this whole series as songfics… so…yeah? This one's Lifehouse's "Hanging By a Moment".
(This song makes me swoon… ;)
********************
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
The day
was positively blissful.
He laid
out on the rolling lawns of Hogwarts, arms folded behind his head as he closed
his eyes to the sunlight. The
Beginning-of-Term feast had only been held the night before, but as scary as
the year was certain to be, Harry Potter had a strange feeling that everyone
would get time to catch their breath before the trauma set in. Of course, Harry was primed for the
calm. When things started looking
desperate, every witch and wizard this side of the Pond would be knocking on
Dumbledore's door for the Boy Who Lived.
Might as well enjoy the fun while it lasted.
Ron had
gone back into the castle, paranoid to the end that You-Know-Who would show up
any split-second—if not the one just passed, then the one coming up
right…about…now. His humor had actually
returned somewhat since leaving the Burrow, but it still had a long way of
recovery to go. However, this proved a
catalyst to a big change in his attitude: Hermione's fluffy cat Crookshanks, very
first to distrust Scabbers the ex-rat, became Ron's constant companion in the
common room.
Hermione
followed at a trot to catch up with him soon after Ron left. The thought drew a sigh from Harry. It was so obvious. He rolled to his side, stared out over the lake, and followed the
ripples as the giant squid swam just below the water's liquid skin. Sitting here like this always made him think
of his first year, thus bringing up memories of the pair of them and their
first backward flirtations. They'd become more forward with time, which really
was more than he could say for himself.
That got a
scowl—or rather an eyebrow-furrowing pout.
His luck with Cho, O Glorious Cho Chang the beautiful Ravenclaw Seeker,
had not improved. He hadn't expected
it, not in times like this, especially after… Cedric. He closed his eyes, swallowing the memory down with a hard
gulp. But there had to be a chance. He shrugged to himself, couldn't quite
smother the inane grin; she had smiled at him last night and said hello this
morning. So there.
Unfortunately
he really couldn't spend the rest of the year out on the grounds, even if he
tried to plead it a long-term Herbology / Care of Magical Creatures
project. So he went inside, nodding to
the portraits and students he met as he meandered down a scenic route to
Gryffindor Tower. He smiled for the Fat
Lady at the top stair and politely announced, "Phoenix feathers."
"And you
know it, my dear," the Fat Lady grinned back as he swung open the frame into
the common room. The room wasn't
crowded, a pair of third years puzzling over homework here and a seventh year
there reading a thick book bound in shimmery material. Sunlight strained through the thick glass of
the windows opposite him, bathing a two-toned chessboard and the robed figures
beside it. Hermione sat back on her
knees, biting her lips, pondering her next move. Ron yawned, got comfy lying on his stomach, folded his arms, and
rested his chin on his hands.
"Oh, I
give," the girl finally sighed, raising expectant eyes to the boy across from
her. "You know I've always been
terrible at this." Ron smirked. He propped himself up by the elbows, holding
his chin.
"Try
moving your rook."
"What
r—Oh…" She giggled. "I see."
Harry
flopped into an oversized chair, leaned over the back and Ron's shoulder. "You really shouldn't give her clues. One day she's going to beat us both soundly,
and it'll be all your fault." His best
friend looked back at him, and Harry smiled.
"Besides, it's time for dinner by now.
We don't want to be late."
Ron turned
raised eyebrows on Hermione, and she shook her head knowingly. "You mean you don't want to be late,
Harry. Just go and accidentally-on
purpose run into Cho and make conversation; complain about Ron and me being
late or something."
Harry
paused and blinked.
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto…
That was
exactly what he did, in perfect time as well.
Just as Cho and Roger Davies reached the double doors to the Great Hall,
there was Harry holding open a door with a bright greeting. Davies snickered under his breath but made
his excuses to get to dinner, leaving Harry happily alone with the girl.
"So what's
new?"
"Not too
much," she admitted, eyes wandering a bit in the clumsy comedy.
"I trust
your summer went well?" Her eyes
finally hit him with laughter behind them, and he thought of his words. "And now I trust I sound a little too much
like Percy Weasley, don't I?" Cho
laughed; Harry smiled.
"Well, I
guess it did," her expression suddenly fell from that pretty beam. "After the funeral."
"Yeah," he
followed too quickly. An awkward
pause. "Well," he looked at her rather
sadly, "if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know how to find me." He gave a weak little smile and even
gathered the nerve to touch her arm before she grinned and walked inside. And as he watched her back as she made her
way to the Ravenclaw table, Harry Potter firmly believed he was dreaming.
When he
told Ron about it before going to sleep, his best friend threw a pillow at him
with a groan. Even so, Harry decided
not to bring up one of Ron's absent hands resting on the ginger bottlebrush of
Crookshanks' tail. He was still too
shocked at Hermione's agreement to allow the cat to stay with Ron.
…I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
Okay, no
more of those.
Bolt
upright in his bed, still breathing noticeably heavier than usual, Harry's mind
raced. The silence of the room actually
stalled his thoughts, but he was back at ease with Neville's whistling snores
as his eyes began to filter through the darkness.
A flash of
green light, only it wasn't the same one ruffling his sleep in years
before. He could feel it was distinctly
separate and innately more dangerous.
But there was another facet of the dream, the only other he could recall
at the moment: the cast was much larger now.
He had been alone in the dream's first coming while he slept under the
stairs on Privet Drive. This pseudo-nightmare
held some company.
He drew up
his knees and set his elbows on them, trying in vain to sort the dream's
meaning. He'd have to wait to take it
to Dumbledore or until he next heard from Sirius. Hell, he should just write his godfather an owl. But even now his head was bobbing, though
the creeping suspicion hadn't yet begun to recede from his imagination. He was too tired for indecision and curled
up under his crimson covers to return to a more peaceful sleep.
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete…
He got out
of Divination, somehow talking his way out of sharing his dream with his
anxious peers. Professor Trelawney had
been resolved on squeezing in extra practice on dream interpretation, but Harry
mercifully escaped. He picked up his
step once descended the first staircase and was sprinting by the time he
reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. It hit Harry then that he would have to get
the old wizard's attention before he could spill the dream. Thinking it futile even as he moved his
hand, he reached to knock on the door but missed as it swung in on its hinges.
"Good
morning, Mr. Potter. I noticed you
looked exceptionally detached at breakfast, and I was just going to borrow you
from Professor Trelawney to inquire. I
suppose you should come in since you're already here. Thank you, by the way, for saving me the trip." Harry smiled at the words and followed him
up to a room that felt more like home than anywhere but his own dormitory.
The
whirling silvery instruments gave off a pleasant hum as Harry sat down and spun
off his story as well as a few other worries.
The Headmaster nodded and refolded his arms in turns and waited until
the boy fell silent.
"I
received a letter from Lucius Malfoy last night," he said suddenly. "He sent it along with the young Mr.
Malfoy. It announced Draco's departure
from our school." The old man paused
deliberately. "He gave no explanation."
A rumble
erupted from Fawkes the phoenix at this, but the bird was ruffling his scarlet
wings when Harry turned. Dumbledore
folded his hands. "I wouldn't normally
disclose such information, but you see, Mr. Potter, these are extraordinary
times." Harry nodded as he
continued. "I tell you this because
Draco Malfoy reported his disagreement with the decision and that he would like
to stay at Hogwarts. You can guess as
well as I as to his reasons for doing so."
Dumbledore
didn't know! Harry jumped upon these
words, finally catching how grave the situation was. And this from Draco Malfoy---
"Also last
night, an owl came from Arabella Figg.
She asked after you and wondered if you would visit her for a bit once
you're comfortable with the idea."
Harry
shook his head, "But who's she, Professor?"
A spark
caught Dumbledore's eye. "Surely you
remember Mrs. Figg."
A light
switch flicked on with the rephrasing.
But there was no way that she of all people—
"Of
course, Mr. Potter. We wouldn't leave
you alone without a magical contact to check on you for us. Arabella is one of the Ministry's top
officers, and she was given the job due to her excellent cover and location in
Little Whinging. Who would suspect an
old woman with too many cats and a house smelling of cabbage?" Dumbledore stood and moved to the bookshelf
on Harry's left. "She wrote a book some
years ago, The Boy Who Lived: Harry Potter
Today. You may learn
something." He tossed the book lightly
to Harry, who caught it and turned it over in his hands. It wasn't big, smaller than his textbooks
but nearly as thick, with pictures every few pages from wizarding historical
sites related to him or the Dark Lord's demise.
He turned
green eyes on Dumbledore. "Thank you,
Professor. I'll get back to you about
Mrs. Figg's offer."
…I'll take your invitation
You take all of me
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto…
Harry got
back to Divination just in time to catch the end of class and be responsible
for the homework. Ah, Cruel Fate, but
Professor Trelawney had probably seen that.
Mrs. Figg's book weighed heavy in his bag and his mind for the rest of
the day.
He took
the book to dinner with him and became so engrossed, he completely forgot to
tease Ron for making eyes at Hermione.
In fact, Ron and Hermione couldn't get him to focus on a thing they were
saying and so didn't warn Harry when a girl walked over to him. She finally got tired of standing and sat
down beside him, blinking as patience waned.
In a last effort to get attention, she picked up the book while he was
reading it. No response. Well, she seemed to think, why not see what
it is. "Hey, my mum's got this book."
This
worked like Sleeping Beauty's kiss, and Harry snapped out of his oblivion to a
very flustered Cho Chang. "Oh? I mean, sorry, but—she does?"
"Yeah, my
aunt too," Harry winced at 'aunt'.
"Why're you reading it?"
He
shrugged. "Figured I ought to."
"Kinda
seems creepy, ya' know?" Cho fidgeted
in her seat. "I mean, what with last
year. 'S almost like you're studying up
to take him on again." She laughed at
her words, "But I guess you'd have to be starkers to do that!" But Harry could read the suspicion in her
eyes.
"I might
go on holiday, is all. Dumbledore's
cleared it; it's up to me."
Cho
frowned. "What kind of holiday would
make you read that book? I read some of
it when you first came here, and it's pretty scary."
"Don't
worry," he smiled. Holding up his right
hand with his left on the open pages, Harry announced in monotone, "I solemnly
swear no nightmares for me." He smiled
as Cho did, but the girl still hung back.
"Well…"
she stalled, "just take care of yourself, alright?" He raised his eyebrows and nodded. She still didn't seem satisfied.
"And, uhm, well, have a good holiday.
Bring me some thing back, right?"
She hugged him quickly, then left without another word.
Hermione
sighed once Cho was out of earshot. "No
nightmares, Harry?"
Ron
clucked his tongue. "Never thought
you'd win her over, Harry."
"Besides,"
Hermione changed the subject, "you're voluntarily reading?" She pulled the book toward her, and Ron gave
a low whistle as he read the title.
"This is
big stuff, Harry; you sure you wanna know?"
"I've got
to," Harry replied simply. "You
remember at the end of last year when Dumbledore sent—" he glanced around—"Sirius to get Professor Lupin and
Mun---whatever the hell, and Arabella
Figg? Well, you wouldn't
believe…" And he commenced to share his
interval with the Headmaster in hushed tones punctuated by sporadic gasps from
his audience. "And," he concluded,
tapping the book, "after reading this, I'm going." He took off his glasses for a minute and closed his eyes to sigh
before replacing them.
…I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
"Professor,
I was wondering… could bring anyone with me when I go to Mrs. Figg's?" Harry cocked his head shyly.
Dumbledore
reached into his desk drawer and handed Harry a folded piece of parchment. The younger wizard opened it to violet ink
that shimmered a dark rosy pink as he read each word. 'If you know any other
students that may be helpful in these intrigues, please send them along with
Harry, should he decide to come.'
Harry looked up, "Is that a yes or no?"
"Who did
you have in mind?"
Harry
stopped; really, was that even a viable question? But the old man smiled, "I believe Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger
would be quite alright, Mr. Potter, but you must remember there is a certain
amount of risk in this visit because of the objective. Arabella will expect complete and utter confidentiality,
maturity, and spirit from all involved.
As for that, I would venture to make a recommendation."
"Oh?"
"I wonder
if you would take Mr. Malfoy back to Surrey with you."
"Malfoy! But, sir--"
"Harry,"
Dumbledore's voice held a note of patient resolve, "You forget his father tried
to withdraw him. There's a reason
behind that, especially if he's not telling it. Draco wanted to stay at
Hogwarts; that should count for something."
"But, sir,
he's threatened Ron and Hermione a million times! And you said yourself you don't know why he would stay here."
"No,
Harry." The sheer calm of his tone
quieted Harry's nerves. "I said 'you
can guess as well as I'. Now, has he so
much as glared at you since the Hogwarts Express thus far this year?"
Thinking
back, Harry really couldn't find an instance.
The only times he saw Malfoy at all were meals where they never crossed
paths, classes where they didn't sit near each other, and odd run-ins in the
hallways where they hadn't spoken. Come
to think of it now, where had the real Draco Malfoy gone?
"As I
suspected. Even Hagrid noticed his
changed demeanor in Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Snape has sent him to the hospital wing twice already,
he's so worried about this shift.
Harry," the cool blue in Dumbledore's eyes reflected an expectancy and
hope, "this would lead me to believe that the young Mr. Malfoy has turned his
loyalties."
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
I don't know what I'm diving into
Just hanging by a moment here with you
"You want
us to go with you?"
"Excellent!"
"Ron!"
"What?"
"Oh,
honestly," Hermione sighed and turned back to Harry. "You've have to forgive our Ron, Harry; you know he gets worked
up." She glanced back over her shoulder
at the 'V' sign she was getting from Ron, who hastily raised all five fingers
and waved furiously. Rolling her eyes,
she turned again, back to Harry. "Of
course, I'll come if you like, and you really don't have to ask Mr. Impetuous
here." As if on cue, Ron gave a shout
from across the empty common room, "No Snape for two weeks! No homework and no schedules!"
There's nothing else to lose…
"Look,
I've got lunch to get to. What is it
you want, Potter?" The sneer hardly
echoed in his voice anymore, a mere trace of that notorious guile. More than anything else, it disconcerted
Harry, but he pressed on.
"I have to
go on holiday soon, and I sort of wanted you to come along."
"Why." That was the Malfoy he knew and
despised. The old narrow came back to
his eyes, and he moved to fold his arms skeptically.
"It's—,"
really, how much could he tell Malfoy?
And he really didn't know much himself.
"Look," he gave up the indifference, "I dunno. Dumbledore recommended you, and I haven't got any real reason not
to trust you." He paused while Draco
snorted. "All I know is it's dangerous,
and it's got something to do with Voldemort."
"Voldemort…" Malfoy savored the word like a child with a
new, horrible curse word. His eyes
slipped closed in a disgusting display of relish, but the merest flinch crossed
his features. The magic word. Harry knew he'd won out.
"Alright,
I'm in, Potter. You'd better make this
worth my while." And in the rarest of
moments, Draco Malfoy smiled, a warm and genuine gesture that took Harry by
complete surprise. But he reciprocated,
waved good-bye, and puzzled his way down to the Great Hall.
…There's nothing else to find…
"It's four
o'clock; time to get up."
"Four
o'clock in the morning!"
"Yeah?"
"Geez,
you're nutters."
"We've
gotta get Hermione."
"Okay,
I'll be ready by the time you get back."
"I'm not
going to get her up; you do it."
"You're
nutters! I'm not going into the girls'
dorms!"
"Look,
it's either Hermione Granger or Draco Malfoy."
A pause. "Hermione and me will meet you outside
Dumbledore's office."
"Alright,
see you, Ron."
…There's nothing in the world that could change
my mind
It rained
that morning, and the sunrise wasn't visible, which Hermione took as a
sign. "We know it's shining," she grinned.
"We can't see it, but we know." Old feuds aside, the guys could agree she
was altogether too perky for so early in the morning.
Professor
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall left for the Hogsmeade Station with the
quartet, complete with four trunks, two owl-cages housing three owls, a basket
containing one fluffy ginger cat, and two broom-cases. Their train was running about twenty minutes
late, a long twenty minutes as the six wizards waited at a remote uncovered
platform far from the main station.
"Be
careful," McGonagall gave her final warnings.
"No magic around Muggles. You've
been granted permission to use magic without consequence under extreme
circumstances—Weasley, wipe that silly grin off your face, I said extreme. And Miss Granger, I expect you've got that book of spells I
provided you yesterday evening? Good
girl. Anything you're missing? And Potter, good luck; none of us is sure
what to expect. My, it's been years
since I've seen—Figg." She forced a
smile, and then her eyes flickered down the tracks. "This one's you. Take
care, be careful." She nudged them down
toward the edge of the platform, where the train screeched to a halt. As each youth climbed the steps in,
Dumbledore made a hushed comment to him or her. Harry was the last, parting with, "Never forget who you are and
where you come from; in the end it's all you've got." He nodded to the old man, turned to smile for McGonagall, and
disappeared into the train, following the black-robed back of Draco Malfoy.
There is nothing else…
"So." Ron spoke warily. "What have you got to do with this, Malfoy?"
The blond
teen met Ron's eyes carefully, "I wish I knew.
Potter asked me to come, and I thought, hell, if it gets me out of Care
of Magical Creatures." Eyes turned to
Harry now, who could feel them even while he pretended to slave over the words
of Mrs. Figg's book.
But he did
answer, though he didn't look up when he spoke. "You guys are all here for a reason. Dumbledore wouldn't let you along if you didn't have some
purpose, but I don't think anyone knows any of our purposes, really."
"Except
yours, of course, Potter." Malfoy gave
him a meaningful stare (was that sympathy in the look?), and Harry sighed.
"Except
mine. After all," he smirked
sardonically, "who else can do it?"
…There is nothing else
There is nothing else…
"Right,
she's an old woman with blue hair. She
smells like cats, so that's a dead give-away.
I dunno what else to tell you… she'll be wearing glasses?" Harry scanned the crowds at King's Cross for
a small figure that could suggest Mrs. Figg, but no one jumped out at him. His little crew had come in the midst of a
large school group with thick Scottish accents; finding anyone through the
milling sea of coats and backpacks would easily be hell.
"Hey!" Hermione shouted, pointing and trying
desperately to hold in her laughter.
"That's got to be for us!" Harry
turned, and there was a short old woman holding a good-sized white sign bearing
the letters S P E W in hologram pink and violet characters. Spew.
How fitting after last year's fiasco.
Hermione
was already talking animatedly with the sign-bearing woman, whom she stood just
barely shorter than. When she turned
back to the guys, she waved frantically for them to join her; this was their
contact. "This," she announced once
they were within earshot, "is Mrs. Arabella Figg, our hostess. She says there's a nine-thirty Portkey in a
payphone near the North entrance."
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth…
"I'm so
happy to see you youngsters here, especially little Harry again. Oh, it's been ages, dearie." Mrs. Figg took them into her home with the
grace of an experienced hostess and set a pot of water to the burner while her
charges took chairs at the small kitchen table. "I do most things the Muggle way, now that I've gotten used to
entertaining them. Not that I get many
guests," she smiled, "but company is always nice, you know."
Taking out
teacups and saucers, Mrs. Figg spoke again, only this time her voice dropped
from its quaint elderly squeak.
"Hermione dear, can you fetch the milk and lemon from the fridge? They should be together on the top shelf." Eyebrows raised in shock. Mrs. Figg turned around, her smile looking
younger as well. "All part of the
disguise, darlings." And with that, she
took up her wand and waved it from her hair to her feet. The layers of age peeled from her and melted
to nothing on the floor, leaving the short, slender body of a young woman,
black hair, gray eyes, pretty.
Harry's
jaw hung slack. "Miss—Mrs. Figg?"
She shook
her head. "That's my Muggle name;
everyone who works for the Ministry has one.
I don that disguise and thus am Mrs. Arabella Figg."
"Then who
are you now?" Ron curiously posed.
She
hesitated at his question but conceded, "Miss Madilyn Saunders, Headgirl, Star
Keeper of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and top of my class at Hogwarts." Hermione's eyes lit up. The woman went on, "Just-registered
Animagus: a small black cat. Turned
down the post Head of the Department of Magical Patents at the Ministry of
Magic. Hmm. What else can I tell you?"
She shrugged and grinned. "Any
questions?"
…Closer to where I started
Chasing after you
Draco,
leaning back on the edge of his chair, dryly remarked, "If I may, Miss
Saunders, we're just dying to know; why exactly are we here?" With this inquiry, four sets of eyes hit the
young witch as she bit her bottom lip.
"Little he knows, little he sees. Les
Miserables. I'm afraid I can't give
you specifics yet, not at this point in time," she nodded. "However, I can tell you our mission isn't
completely unlike the one fourteen years ago."
The last goaded a cringe. "This
time we will be successful, though."
Harry knew her allusion and forced a wan grin. At the other empty expressions, Saunders dropped her voice,
"You-Know-Who at Godric's Hollow; we lost Lily and James there."
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
Settled in
and lounging in chairs strangely like those from the common rooms, the quartet
listened patiently albeit disappointedly as Saunders rattled off a list of
rules. "No owls if we can help it. There's an aviary not far from here, run by
a wizard friend of mine. He's already
told me we can use his owls, should extreme circumstances arise." Ron raised eyebrows at her wording and mumbled
"McGonagall" under his breath.
"You'll
need an alias—Harry, we'll have to cover up your scar and get you colored
contacts." She thought for a moment as Harry
groaned, "We've got temporary spells for hair.
Hermione's Muggle-born; she should be alright."
"How d'you
know my name?" Hermione interjected, confused and wary.
"Dumbledore,"
Saunders answered simply. "You're the
only one I wouldn't know, really. The
Malfoy's are old friends of my family, though we've never really gotten along,
and I heard Narcissa and Lucius had a son some years back." She shrugged, then smiled. "And if you think I don't know a
Weasley!" A sudden girlish streak showed
through Saunders' front, "I always though little Bill was the most adorable
little thing. I bet you don't even
remember me, ickle Ronniekins? Last I
visited you, you'd had an awful scare with a bear-come-spider." Ron flinched, and Saunders laughed, "My,
my," she put a hand to her chest and smirked, "they all must've graduated by
now."
I'm living for the only thing I know…
"And
Harry. Poor wandering one." She
didn't look at him, instead only wrung her hands and stared at them. When she spoke next, her voice softened, "Pirates of Penzance. I don't suppose you've heard from Remus at
all?"
No one
made a reply for a moment, exchanging careful glances and uncomfortable
frowns. "Professor Lupin?"
"He's
teaching?" Her face jerked up with a
puzzled.
"At
Hogwarts two years ago."
She closed
her eyes, laid her head back, and swore under her breath. "Where is he now?"
"None of
the students know."
…I'm running and not quite sure where to go…
Saunders
took a deep breath and leveled her gaze back at them. "How was he when you last saw him?"
"Bad. It was just after---well, he'd been
sick." A tense silence hung among the clique
at Harry's words. One had to be careful
how he put it.
…And I don't know what I'm diving into…
"Don't be
nervous," the woman coaxed in what sounded a bit like relief. "I know."
Here came a bittersweet smile.
"I knew before he knew I did; I should have told him." Now a frown that was just plain bitter. "Really, Lily knew him better than I did, I
should have listened to her…"
"Wait a
minute," Harry spoke up, an odd strangled note of urgency in his voice. "Y-You knew my—my mum?"
…Just hanging by a moment here with you.
I
know! I'm so bad. J but
r/r and I'll post more of it. J Here's the thing: I may make revisions along the way 'cause I
haven't finished it yet, so bear with me J
Much
love, *D*D*
