A/N: Hello all, welcome to the second, revised chapter of Births and Deaths. Over on EmPoweredFanFiction's website I asked the question of the few who frequent it whether they'd prefer me to carry on as I am doing and replacing the old chapters with new, but it occurs to me that you can't actually review the chapters if you have already. However, I've since realising that new FanFiction reviews mean you don't have to sign in to review, except then I can't reply to you – and that's part of the fun surely ;)
I'm endeavouring to find out what you would prefer, so leave me a guest review perhaps, if you can't review again, or PM me.
Have a wonderful holiday, no matter what you celebrate, or don't and if we don't catch up before hand, have a wonderful new year.
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Harry stood for a moment wondering what had just happened before deciding against following her into her chambers and demanding she tell him what she meant. He had just witnessed an emotional Minerva McGonagall and he realised he was quite happy as he was, and didn't fancy being cursed into a pickled toad by the extremely powerful witch. He donned his invisibility cloak and hurried back to the portrait hole, only coming out of hiding so he could give the fat lady the password before racing back to his bed and getting in, not even attempting to sleep, knowing that while it would have been difficult before, it would now be virtually impossible.
He laid thinking about everything that had transpired for a few hours before conceding defeat and taking his charms essay to the common room to try and finish it early for once, his previous nightmares now completely forgotten.
The next thing he knew, there were people emerging from the dormitories making their way bleary eyed down to breakfast, and he realised that he must have fallen asleep on the oversized couch by the warm fire. He blinked uncomfortably for a while, recapping his eventful night only to be interrupted by a nudge from Hermione.
"You okay, Harry?" she asked, taking in his dishevelled look and the dark rings under his eyes.
"What? Um, yeah, no I'm fine," he stammered, suddenly coming back to the present. "Actually Hermione, I have a question." He looked at her pointedly before she rolled her eyes and sat next to him.
"Okay, but don't expect me to give you the answers. Honestly, between you and Ron I'm surprised you learn anything." She shook her head.
"No, that's not what I wanted to ask you. Today is the 31st October, right?" He looked at her and she nodded, looking like she was not really sure where he was going with it. "Did something significant, other than Halloween, happen on this date at any time?" he tried to ask casually. She thought for a moment, frowning slightly, chewing the inside of her cheek.
"Not that I know of Harry, why?" she replied, genuinely interested in what her friend wanted. Harry just shrugged, not wanting to go into it.
"I just, someone said something last night, and I thought maybe today was an anniversary or something." Hermione thought for a moment.
"You know, we both lived in the Muggle world until two years ago, maybe someone from a wizarding family would know?" she offered before getting up. "Come on, I'm starving."
They quickly made it to the Great Hall, sliding into seats next to Neville Longbottom and Fred and George Weasley, knowing that Ron would be down when he woke up – Ron, after all, was not a morning person. As Harry grabbed some breakfast his gaze flicked up to the staff table where he saw Professor McGonagall looking a little better than she had for a while. For a moment he thought he had dreamed last night until he saw the lily pinned to her usual green teaching robes. As if the universe thought Harry might doubt it even more, he caught Snape staring daggers at him from the Slytherin end of the table. Quickly turning his attention back to his toast, he caught the tail end of Hermione asking the boys if they knew of any anniversary on this day.
"Are you mad?" the twins said in unison.
"Today –" George began.
"– is the day –" Fred continued, not missing a beat.
"– when that geezer who must not be named –"
"– was royally buggered," Fred said with a flurry, weathering a glare from Hermione for his language.
"– by you." The twins clapped Harry on the back as they finished together.
"Today was the day Voldemort disappeared, Harry," Neville explained sadly on his other side, and it suddenly dawned on Harry what that meant. Thirteen years ago today his parents died.
It seemed Hermione realised the same thing at almost the same time and with a gasp turned to Harry. She placed a comforting hand on his arm and he gave her a weak smile, which came out like a grimace, before getting up from his place and walking out of the Great Hall. He made his way towards the big oak doors at the front of the castle and picked up his pace, running through them, oblivious to the rain falling gently onto the already green grass. He was eager to be on his own with his thoughts, not caring about anything right now, not even Sirius Black.
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Hermione had been in two minds about following Harry, but was side tracked as Ron dropped into the seat beside her, complaining that she hadn't woken him.
"I am not your keeper, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes while spreading some jam on her toast, trying to ignore the fact that her friend was now talking to her with his mouth full of food.
"Where's Harry?" he asked in between chews. He listened in surprised silence as Hermione told him what had happened.
"Blimey," said Ron taking a swig of his pumpkin juice. "I always thought he dealt with it well. I never once thought to say anything." Hermione just shrugged before standing up and grabbing her books.
"Come on Ron, he'll be fine, he just needs some time for it to sink in," she said tugging his sleeve. "We'll meet him in Potions; we really can't be late."
Ron reluctantly stood, stuffing two more sausages into his mouth as the two trudged towards the dungeons. Walking into their classroom they cringed when they noticed that Snape was in a particularly foul mood. The Potions professor glowered at them as they took their seats but once he realised Harry wasn't with them his lip curled into an evil smirk.
"The boy wonder isn't here then?" he said rhetorically, ignoring the flinches of the two students. "What a shame. One hundred points from Gryffindor for his insolence." A few of the Slytherins snickered behind their hands while the Gryffindors glared at their professor, but didn't say anything. They could tell that today was not a good day to argue with Professor Snape.
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After a particularly awful Double Potions in which Neville managed to stain his hands a vomit green colour, loosing Gryffindor another thirty points, they all trudged to History of Magic, keen for an easy lesson. As Professor Binns droned on about the Goblin Wars Hermione and Ron had a hushed conversation behind their textbooks.
"Yeah, but where is he?" Ron whispered. Harry had told them both what Ron's dad had said to him on the train station and it worried them that they had no clue as to where he was.
"I don't know, I was about to go after him until you sat down, Ronald," Hermione hissed at him. Ron cringed a little at her tone, but carried on.
"Well, what do we do?" Ron would do anything for his best friends, but left it to Hermione to make the decisions, knowing that they would be rational, and altogether better than his.
"If he's not back by the time we get to the Great Hall for lunch, then we'll go and look for him," Hermione said and with a nod from Ron they turned back towards their droning professor, Hermione writing down some notes and Ron gazing out of the window at the overcast sky, noticing that while it had stopped raining for the minute, it would soon start up again, thanks to the blustery Scottish autumns they'd faced.
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Harry, meanwhile, had been wandering around the grounds, not really paying attention to where he was going until he shivered, the cold autumn breeze picking up around him. He was pulled completely out of his thoughts when he realised he was looking down at Hagrid's hut. He knew the big man was teaching, because he'd avoided the Fourth Year class on the way down here, but looking at the smoke coming from the chimney, Harry thought that Hagrid wouldn't mind if he went in just to warm his hands and grab a cloak. He did just that, pleased to find that there was no one home except Fang, who accepted a little scratch behind the ears. He still didn't feel like talking to anyone and was happy that the others had Potions this morning so that no one would come looking for him. Grabbing the smallest oilskin he could find, Harry wandered back into the grounds, once again thinking of his parents and not the rain beating down on the waterproof covering he now had on. He came to rest by the lake and sat on the sodden ground, tucking the oilskin underneath him so he didn't get too drenched and hugging his knees to his chest, he watched the little ripples in the water travel back and forth in the wind. Not even the giant squid wanted to come to the surface today.
Harry thought about his parents, and what his life would be like today if they had survived the deadly attack twelve years ago. He imagined that he would be happy, and might even have a brother or sister, or both by now. He'd understand magic better, and he'd be loved. He'd have someone to practice Quidditch with on a Sunday afternoon and he'd have people who would be proud of his achievements.
Harry paused in his daydreaming, knowing that it was a dangerous thing he was doing. He remembered Dumbledore's words when he'd caught Harry spending hours in front of the Mirror of Erised.
"It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry."
Dumbledore was right, Harry thought bitterly. It only makes it hurt more.
Harry instead tried to guide his thoughts to last night. He cringed at the memory of Snape, and made a mental note to ask Hermione for some good jinxes in case he ever needed to duel Snape. The puzzling thing was the whole Professor McGonagall part. Harry studied the lake in earnest as he ran over what had happened. It was clear to him that she was upset over something and given the date it might have been about his parents, but he couldn't quite place it.
Did McGonagall even know my parents? he thought as he watched the giant squid finally break the surface, only to disappear into the inky depths once more. Why was she so upset about the flower I left her? Was it inappropriate? Damn, I should have just high-tailed it out of there. Harry grunted out of frustration and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. He didn't know why he felt like he needed to console his teacher. He grimaced as he thought that maybe he had a crush on her. Thinking about it made him feel queasy, so he was pretty sure that wasn't it. Plus, he kind of had a thing for Cho Chang from Ravenclaw, and this didn't feel anything like what he felt when he looked at Cho. He did feel something for his Head of House though; something more than what he felt for any of the other professors, even the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin. He was certainly cool, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had been enjoying his super practical lessons immensely, but with Professor McGonagall it was stronger, more personal. He explored the feeling a little more, poking and prodding it until he was so confused he just sighed and listened to the rain pitter-pattering on his oilskin. He shifted slightly out of the wind to lean against a willow tree by the water and just simply existed for a while longer, thankful that he at least didn't feel bad enough to stoop to his shameful summer holiday habit.
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, were dashing from History of Magic to the Great Hall, hopeful that their friend was sitting at their House table, tucking into some lunch while he waited for them. With no such luck, they raced out again into the now very damp Entrance Hall, where Ron was unable to stop himself from careering into Professor McGonagall, nearly knocking her flying and only saving her from a painful fall by grabbing onto her outstretched arms.
"Good gracious, Mr Weasley, what on earth do you think you are doing?" she asked after he had helped her back to a standing position.
"Sorry Professor, we're, well we've just got somewhere to be, that's all."
She looked around as if searching the Hall for Harry, expecting him to be with them, and Hermione thought she looked torn between helping a group of sorry looking First Years coming in and asking a further question. They all looked over as the group of First Years traipsed in, sopping wet from their walk back from the greenhouses and when one of them sneezed the Professor swooped over, ushering them in and directing the traffic once more. Hermione managed to catch her eye as she and Ron continued with their search, and she knew that their Transfiguration teacher would catch up with them in their lesson later.
Hermione and Ron looked everywhere. Harry Potter wasn't in the hospital wing, the library, the common room, or the boy's dormitory. Ron thought it especially lousy when Hermione had been able to enter their dorm, when he wasn't allowed in the girl's.
"It's all about trust, Ron," Hermione had said with a huff, exasperated at not finding Harry. They grabbed a couple of thick cloaks and raced outside, ignoring the calls from their teachers to stay out of the rain. The checked at Hagrid's and on the Quidditch pitch, although even Ron conceded Harry was not THAT into Quidditch that he would practice in this weather.
They had looked everywhere and seen no sign of him. They looked at each other, worry deeply ingrained in their features, before Hermione glanced at her watch, cringing.
"We're going to be late for Transfiguration," she called over the driving rain. Ron looked at her like she'd grown an extra head.
"We can't just leave him!" he shouted.
"We'll tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione countered as she turned to the castle. Coming in though the main doors they shed their cloaks and made their way to class, where they'd left their books before searching for Harry.
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The Professor knew immediately something was up, the obvious sign being that there was no Harry. Minerva felt her chest tighten.
Where was he? Had she upset him? She'd finally plucked up the courage to tell him too.
Typical, she thought cynically.
She glanced around the room, noticing that all of her Gryffindors looked particularly glum, while the Slytherins looked quite pleased with themselves.
"All right you lot, what's going on?" she asked before they began. If they were going to be returning to practical Transfiguration, she needed everybody to be thinking clearly.
"Professor Snape took one hundred and thirty points off us this morning, Professor," said Dean Thomas with a frown at the Slytherins who were now chuckling quietly.
"And why was that, Mr Thomas?" she asked.
"Because Harry didn't show, and then Neville put in too many toad eggs and stained his hands green."
Minerva watched Neville raise his hands in proof of the colouring, but she was more concerned by the fact that Potter had not been seen since breakfast.
"A hundred points to Gryffindor," she said absently, countering Severus' earlier vengeful docking. She would let Neville's stand though, after all it was a particularly horrid shade of green. "What do you mean 'Mr Potter didn't show'?" she said after a beat, the question being directed at Ron and Hermione. Ron squirmed under her forceful gaze, but Hermione looked at her with a pained expression on her face. Seeing this, Minerva instructed the class to read up on how to turn a box of matches into a cushion, and once they were engaged she motioned for Harry's two friends to come into her office.
"What did Mr Thomas mean when he said Mr Potter did not show for Potions this morning?" she asked, panic creeping into her heart. With Sirius Black on the loose, now was not the time to be losing the Boy-Who-Lived, but more importantly, for her, now was not the time to be losing Harry.
"Well, Professor, when I woke up this morning he was already in the common room. He looked like he may have slept there too. Anyway, he asked me what the date was and if I knew of any sort of anniversary that happed today. I told him that I didn't know of any, but that he should ask one of the people from a wizarding family. Once he realised that today was the day You-Know-Who had disappeared, he realised what it meant to him."
Minerva walked to the window as she took deep breaths, trying to stem the tears that were collecting in her eyes. How was she supposed to tell him that today was an equally painful day for her? That she had lost exactly the same thing he had that day? She pulled herself together, realising she had more important things to worry about and that they needed to be looking for him now.
"When did you last see him?" she asked, urgency creeping into her voice. Albus had told her that the Department of Magic was pressuring him to install Dementors around the grounds in case came looking for Harry.
"At breakfast, Professor," Hermione said quickly. "And we checked everywhere. Gryffindor Tower, the hospital wing, Hagrid's Hut... We don't know where else to look, Professor."
Professor McGonagall laid a gentle hand on her arm, before turning to the fire burning at the back of the room and picking up a pinch of Floo powder. She paused before throwing it in, dismissing the children back to the classroom for the time being and then leant into the fireplace, her head appearing a moment later in the grate of Albus Dumbledore's fire.
"Minerva, how are you my dear?" he asked gently. He'd noticed, as he had every year for the past twelve years that it was a tough week for her, but he was one of only three people who knew the reason why. She seemed especially upset at the moment, however, as he got up to move closer to the fire.
"Albus, Harry is missing," she said, a pained look fixed upon her face.