Like a Puff of Mist…POOF!

A Harry Potter Fanfiction

by mew-tsubaki

Note: My first HariPo fic! Yay! So, I recently reread the 5th book. Anyway, I think I now know who my favorite character is: Sirius. I love him! Kya! Basically, this story is picking up where the Order of the Phoenix left off, but it's heading into Harry's seventh year. That's it…except post a comment when you're done reading. Thanks! -

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, unless otherwise stated at the head of each chapter right here in the disclaimer. So far, the only original characters I can think of right now are: Roxane Lovegood (Luna's mum), ghosts Lucille Skaveys and Patrick Connelly, Professor Zee Anomaly (Potions), and Professor Garrid Hellbourne (Defense Against the Dark Arts).

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Chapter 2: Reoccurring Feeling

Now was not the time to be returning to Hogwarts. And Harry was sure of that much.

The Boy-Who-Lived looked down at the piece of enchanted candy in his hands. He didn't feel very much like biting the chocolate frog's legs off so it would stop squirming in his hands, so he let it go. The frog jumped up and climbed out the open train window, as a frog had done in Harry's first year. Now it was his last trip on the Hogwarts Express, the only way to get to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry leaned his head on the cool glass of the window and sighed. He didn't like this waiting period very much. He wasn't much of a patient person at all. Just last year he had found out he was right in such a wrong, wrong way. Dumbledore shouldn't have died. It didn't matter if Snape really was evil. The more Harry thought about it, the more he wished he had been wrong about Snape. Maybe, just maybe, if he had been wrong about Snape, than maybe Dumbledore wouldn't have died.

Harry felt guiltier by the minute. No matter how hard he tried to push the other death to the back of his mind, he couldn't. Dumbledore had been important to him, but he kept on seeing his godfather falling through the veil at the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. He had shouted and shouted for Sirius, but he didn't reply. Harry remembered Lupin pulling him back and telling him to accept that Sirius was dead. Dead. Whenever death sounded in Harry's mind, he gagged on it. He couldn't even roll the word off the tip of his tongue without feeling utterly and completely sick. Yet, here he was, returning to Hogwarts, without Sirius, without Dumbledore, with his N.E.W.T.s on the way –and with a feeling of seething torment that he was jeopardizing everyone's lives by returning.

As Harry's mind was bringing up the almost 2-year-old argument of whether or not Sirius was dead (and he must be –after all, wouldn't Sirius have shown up already?), the rustling of a newspaper filled the cabin and the redhead sitting across from him groaned.

"Oh, come off it already, 'Mione," the redhead growled unpleasantly. "You're always the early bird. You had so much fun waking us up as four this morning back at the Burrow. Can't you just let me sleep a while?"

The dirty-blonde named Hermione flared her nostrils. "You need to learn to better manage your time, Ronald," she retorted. "Besides, reading the newspaper will help us gather information and may help us form a plan." Hermione turned the page of the Daily Prophet again and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Well, nothing new today. It's just the same defensive spells again and again like the ones the Ministry issued when they finally accepted Lord Vol-Vol-" She sighed and drew in her breath. "You-Know-Who's return at the end of our fifth year." She daintily folded the paper in half and placed it on her armrest.

"You know, Hermione," Harry stated, "if you could say "Lord Voldemort" before, how come you can't do it now?" He felt it annoying for her to keep on crossing the line between courageous and cowardly.

"Oh, I don't know." Hermione sighed again. "Sometimes I feel full of energy, just like when we had the D.A., but knowing that it's our final year at Hogwarts and that the end of the Second War is drawing nearer and nearer just rattles me uncontrollably."

"Who said the Second War's gonna end?" Ron asked. "You don't know if we'll die or not," he said pessimistically.

Hermione's expression was horrorstruck. "How could you say that?!" she screeched.

"It's your fault for getting me up so early," he answered.

"Ronald!!"

Harry sighed himself and met eyes with the scrubby old cat that belonged to Hermione. Crookshanks' eyes glowed in an almost mocking manner and, sneering at the feline, Harry turned away to face the door of the cabin. Although he had asked her to stay away from him until he defeated Voldemort, part of him was expecting to see that bright shock of red hair that matched her brother's appear in the doorway any second now. When she didn't show, Harry's spirits sunk even lower than he imagined possible.

"You're forcing yourself into this loneliness, you know," Hermione stated. Harry looked at her and almost jumped out of his seat when she stuck her serious face in his.

"Will you stop doing that?!" Harry wasn't sure which bothered him more, though: her face being so serious and right in front of his or the fact that she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking about.

"Harry, if you miss seeing Ginny that much, then just go see her yourself."

"No," Harry stated quite loudly, forcing Ron partially awake. "The last thing I need right now is to see the look on her face before she falls through a veil or is hit with an Unforgivable Curse. In fact, while we're on the topic, why won't you two stay away from me? If anyone's going to die, it's only going to be either me or Voldemort."

"Yes, bloody brilliant idea there, mate," Ron chortled. "And if you die? I don't want to be around when Ginny finds out. No siree."

"Besides," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's remark, "do you really think any of us would want to stick around with Voldemort still alive? We all go down or he does. No one is willing to face a life full of torture, Harry."

He had to admit, Hermione was right. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was putting everyone in danger.

"Personally, I think everyone would fight if you asked them to, Harry," piped a tall, lanky teen who was just now squeezing in through the cabin door. "Hey, Harry, Hermione, Ron."

"Hi, Neville," Hermione said. Harry gave Neville a little wave and Ron grunted a noise that showed he at least acknowledged that Neville existed. Neville looked hopefully at Harry, who instinctively pushed empty boxes of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans off the seat to his left. Neville beamed and took a seat beside him.

"How was your vacation?" Neville asked to no one in particular.

"Great," Hermione began enthusiastically, glad to have someone else to talk to. "My parents and I went to a resort in Italy and stayed there for a few weeks. How's your grandmother?"

Neville smiled halfheartedly. "She seems a bit down that I haven't got a girlfriend yet. She keeps on telling me that my parents were already dating before they were seventeen and that if I'm going to have a family and give her grandkids before she dies, then I have to find a nice witch for a significant other. She also keeps on whining about how it's such a shame that I haven't had any girls flocking with my good looks." Neville said the last part so deflated-like that the other three did not know whether to laugh or not, but when he removed a crumpled-up gum wrapper from his pocket, Harry's heart sank. He remembered seeing Neville's mother give him a gum wrapper like that one before, when he, Ron, and Hermione were visiting Ron's dad in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Well…," Hermione began, "there's always hope. Our seventh year is just starting. You may find someone quicker than you think." Another awkward silence ensued only to be broken by a sixth year girl who gently threw the cabin door open.

"I believe this little one belongs to you," said the girl in her ever-familiar dreamy voice. She was wearing striped orange and red stockings, black and white sneakers, a dark denim skirt, and a fuzzy pink turtleneck sweater, clutching a disgustingly slimly toad right underneath her bosom. "Trevor was terrorizing some first year girls several cabin's away, but I knew how to get him to come to me. The Quibbler did on article all about taming different kinds of toads a few issues ago," she stated matter-of-factly, flinging her long blonde hair from her face with a swish of her head. Her violently blue eyes held Neville's for a split second before she offered Trevor forward. "You'd better keep him on some type of leash. Supposedly a leash made out of Devil's Snare will keep most toads from wandering too far."

"Thanks, Luna," Neville muttered gratefully, blushing from the embarrassment of losing Trevor for the umpteenth time.

"No problem," Luna said. "If you want someone to baby-sit him, let me know. I'm rather fond of the cute little fellow. Bye, Neville, Harry, Hermione." Luna gracefully turned on her heel and left.

"And who am I? A Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" Ron grumbled.

"I think if you were, she'd like you more," Hermione stated, lifting the Daily Prophet up to read through it once more. "Just stop saying things about her father and the Quibbler and maybe she'll say "good-bye" to you, too, next time."

"You've made fun of the Quibbler before, too!!"

"Yes, but I stopped. I find her a bit strange, but she did help me in the Department of Mysteries. I sometimes want to punch people when I hear them calling her "Loony Lovegood" nowadays."

"I agree with Hermione," Neville commented. "Luna's not loony, but I don't think she's very strange either. If she was normal, that'd be strange. She's just an individual. I guess it'll cause a stir once more people know that she's a prefect this year."

Hermione folded the Daily Prophet in half again and looked over the top of the paper. "Prefect?" Her eyes bore little holes into the back of Neville's. "How'd she manage prefect?"

"Dunno, but I think she could do it. She kind of shocks first years into listening to her. People seem to have stopped hiding her stuff all over the place, too, now that they know she helped you in the Department of Mysteries, Harry." Neville and Hermione both glanced sideways to see Harry's expression, but his face was blank.

A long and loud snore escaped Ron's lips and Hermione hit him with the newspaper. "Oh, just wake up already, will you?! We're pulling up to the school anyway. Get changed."

Sure enough, as Harry gazed out the window once again, the faint silhouette of Hogwarts Castle came into view through the leering fog that enveloped the surrounding landscape. Just a couple of more months, Harry thought. Then this will all be over. We will win. And Sirius will be there to greet me at the end of it.

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"First years, this way, please" could be heard all around them as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville got off the Hogwarts Express and headed to the boats that would carry them to the castle. Not looking forward to sharing with any of the first years, the four grabbed their own boat and shared it with two of their fellow Gryffindor seventh-years: Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. The six rowed in silence and split up a bit once they landed at Hogwarts Castle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went in search of Hagrid first, before Ron and Hermione gave up searching with Harry to carry out their prefect jobs. Harry sullenly walked behind a group of gaggling Ravenclaw seventh-year girls and abruptly steered himself in the opposite direction; he certainly did not want a meeting with any of Cho Chang's young followers right now.

It was usually about this time when Harry would start hearing his chief tormentor calling him names, but Draco was nowhere in sight. Harry caught a glimpse of Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, but the threesome seemed rather lifeless and lost without their leader. They were so out of it that Pansy and Crabbe were actually carrying out their prefect duties, with Goyle sticking close behind. Harry didn't have the energy to tease them. In an odd way, he actually felt sorry for them; they seemed like baby chicks who were just released into the big world without a clue as to what to do. Thinking about Draco Malfoy's face made his insides churn. Thinking of that scumbag who helped Snape kill Dumbledore…and then images of Sirius popped up again…and then he would think about the school to not think of Sirius, but then the vicious cycle would just start all over again.

But although he felt angry at the thought of Malfoy and his part in the fight last year, he felt unsure, as well. Several times he had seen the blonde's face falter and give way to fear, only to crumple up as Snape barked an order to him. Maybe Draco wasn't like Lucius in this regard… Maybe he didn't have enough guts to really kill someone, as much as he had threatened to kill Harry for naming his father as a Deatheater.

Harry didn't have to think any further on the subject as he entered the Great Hall for supper and found a seat next to Neville and Ernie Macmillan. Silence was ordered in the Hall as newly-appointed headmistress Minerva McGonagall gave a welcoming speech to the first years and a welcome-back speech to the other students. Harry ignored mutterings of "Look! It's 'Arry Potter!" and "The Boy-Who-Lived!!" as the first years stepped up to be sorted into their houses by the Sorting Hat.

Harry was absentmindedly listening to the names being called and distributed into Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff when Ron and Hermione joined him in silence. Both were sitting across from Harry, Hermione ignoring Ron and watching the sorting and Ron pleading with Hermione to forgive him, he did it by…impulse, whatever Harry pondered it to be. By the way things looked, whatever Ron had done had clearly upset Hermione, for she was acting as if Ron wasn't there at all. Finally, Ron gave up as everyone fell silent once again so McGonagall could announce the new teachers. As usual, Hogwarts was receiving another Defense against the Dark Arts professor, but they were getting another Potions teacher, as well. Harry's mind again drifted to the events of last year when Snape had finally become the Dark Arts teacher and Professor Slughorn had arrived with the idea of his "Slug Club". The two new candidates for the positions looked as though they wouldn't last very long.

"Professor Zee Anomaly, a graduate of Beaubatons, has agreed to be our new Potions teacher this year. Those of you preparing for your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s this year will be at ease of mind knowing she is your teacher.

"Professor Garrid Hellbourne is a Hogwarts graduate and will be your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Please welcome these two into our home and let the feast begin!" Though McGonagall's voice was not quite as booming as Dumbledore's, it was sharp and pierced the hall. A feast better than Harry had ever seen was spread out before them, and he could've sworn McGonagall sent him a melancholy, sympathetic smile before he dug in.

"She looks washed-out," Hermione commented.

Harry returned his attention to the table. "Who, McGonagall?"

"Well, she seems a bit peaky, too, but I was talking about Professor Anomaly," Hermione stated. Harry glanced back up at the faculty table and nodded in agreement. Professor Anomaly didn't look like she had graduated from Beaubatons; if anything, Anomaly looked like a Muggle caught in another dimension, one where everything magical she had ever thought up was suddenly real. Beside her sat Hagrid, Hogwarts' Care for Magical Creatures teacher, and he looked to be in fine shape (Harry made a note that he would pay a visit to Hagrid as soon as possible; maybe he could have something more troubling to keep Harry's mind focused on him instead of other things). Then Harry looked to Hagrid's right –and shivered.

Professor Hellbourne was grotesquely handsome –handsome from his left, but then gruesome when he moved his head and the onlooker noticed that half of his jaw had been melted off. Other than the one disfigurement, Hellbourne looked like a natural wizard. His brown hair fell in chocolaty ringlets on either side of his face and stopped short about an inch below his jaw-line. Piercing violet eyes looked out over the students, but when his eyes met Harry's, they turned a milky, calming green. Taken aback, Harry's face reddened and he returned to his food once more.

"I 'eard 'e was caught between either saving 'is father or being eaten by a dragon," Seamus whispered to Harry and the others. "That's why a quarter of 'is face is gone; a Chinese Fireball melted 'is jaw right through. 'E barely made it out alive."

"Er…yeah, right," Harry mumbled. He chanced a glance once more at Professor Hellbourne, but when he looked at the faculty table, Hellbourne was nowhere to be seen. "I think I'm done eating…"

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"Weasley is our King," Ron stated to the portrait of the fat lady, much to his chagrin. The portrait swung open and Gryffindors piled endlessly into the Common Room. Ron saw Harry stifle a laugh and burned bright red at the ears. "'S not my fault! I'm just guessing that maybe people think that stupid song has faded, so they used it as the password!"

"Personally, I like it," piped Ron's younger sister. "Maybe it's in honor of you. You know how good you've become at Quidditch. Remember how the Gryffindors changed the lyrics when you won? Although, if the password changed from "king" to "queen", then I'd be beaming. You don't need to think only about the bad things, Ron," Ginny ended lightly. She shifted her bright blue eyes to Harry and forced a smile. "Hi, Harry. How was your vacation? Not so dreadful, I hope."

Harry felt himself forcing a smile, as well; this wasn't going to be an easy year. "I was just stuck at the Dursleys as usual. I'm starting to hold my own against Dudley without a wand, though."

"Oh, if he ever beats you up again, let me know. I'll Bat-Bogey Hex him into Hell! Well, see you two in the morning. 'Night!" Ginny kissed Ron on the cheek before heading up to the girls' dormitory, but all she did to Harry was wave.

As he and Ron made their way to their beds in the boys' dormitory, Harry felt he had to ask. "Has she dated anyone else since me?"

"Are kidding?" Ron's look was incredulous. "All Ginny would do was write letters that she wanted to send to you. It didn't affect me much, your request that 'Mione and I not write you, but for Ginny –it was unbearable." Ron's voice dropped to undertones as the other boys came up to get ready for bed. "Ginny doesn't think you've broken up with her, if that's what you're thinking, Harry. She loves you and she's not letting you go, no matter what."

Harry moved his face closer to Ron's. "And if I DIE?" he whispered back.

Ron seemed hesitant, but kept his peace. "You'd be hard to find another girl like my sis, Harry. 'Night."

Before Harry could say anything more, Ron had already climbed under his throw and was quickly drifting off. Hard to find another girl like Ginny? Harry thought. Well, that was obvious. But Ron's hesitance threw Harry's mind into turmoil. Ron was always one to be straightforward –he just couldn't keep secrets. But was there a double-meaning to his best mate's words? Harry deliberated over their conversation until his lids grew heavy, where his dreams took over the list of worst-case scenarios and hidden meanings. In the end, Ginny's forced happiness was all that Harry could dream about. It'll be true happiness again. Soon…

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I hope you liked chapter two! Personally, I'm already a fan of Professor Hellbourne! You'll like him, too, I promise! Oh, and by the way to any readers that think this way, GINNY IS NOT A SLUT!!! She's loves Harry so much, she was trying to make him jealous before, I'm sure of it, so please keep that in mind as you're enjoying the story. I look forward to reading reviews and to seeing you again in chapter three!

Thanx!

-mew-tsubaki -