Chapter 2: Distractions
Just as dawn broke, Harry's green eyes snapped open as sharply as if he had never gone to sleep, reflecting the golden, early-morning sunlight. Remembering instantly what he'd seen during the night, Harry threw off his covers and dressed so quickly that he ended up with his glasses on upside-down, his socks mismatched, and his shoes on the wrong feet.
Realizing this, he let out a frustrated growl, half-rousing Seamus, who muttered, "But I like the pink tea cozy better, Mum," subconsciously, and rolled over in his sleep.
Grinning in spite of himself, Harry righted his wardrobe malfunctions, except for the socks, because let's face it, who really cared? and rushed out of the boy's dormitory, out the portrait hole, and down to Dumbledore's office in what had to be a record time.
He stopped dead in front of the gargoyle. The password. Right. That would definitely help. Letting out another frustrated growl and pulling at his hair, Harry had a strong urge to kick Mrs. Norris, who was passing by, glaring at him for making such a fuss.
He looked back at the stone gargoyle. He could just guess. He'd done that before, and it had worked…on accident. Or he supposed he could wait until he saw Dumbledore at breakfast, but he was so frantic to tell him what he'd seen that he quickly discarded this option. Harry stood there, trying to decide the best thing to do, when a pleasant voice said,
"Good morning, Harry."
Harry whirled around and stared up into the bespectacled face of the headmaster.
"Oh, Professor, hi—I was just coming to see you. Only, I don't know the password, so---sir, what are those?"
Harry pointed to a wicker basket that Dumbledore was holding, which was filled with what seemed to be shimmering, over-sized blueberries that continually changed colors as Harry watched.
"Ah," Dumbledore said lightly, "Diffleberries. Quite useful. They can heal many common illnesses. Colds, fever, influenza, the like. They grow in abundance around Hogwarts, so I thought I'd pick a few on my morning stroll and give them to Madam Pomfrey."
"In abundance? I've never seen those before."
"Well, no, you wouldn't have unless you'd touched the tree. Diffleberries only appear once a person has placed a hand on the tree on which they grow."
"Oh. Well, anyway," Harry continued, silently cursing himself for getting so easily distracted, "sir, I had another dream last night. Another vision."
"Voldemort again, I presume?"
"Yes. And he was with Bellatrix Lestrange. She—"
"Forgive me, Harry, but perhaps it would be better to continue this particular conversation in my office."
He turned to the gargoyle. "Mugwump," he said, and the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside to admit them. Harry was glad he hadn't tried to guess.
Once inside Dumbledore's office, Dumbledore went around behind his desk and gestured for Harry to take the seat in front of it. He did so.
"Sir," he continued. "Bellatrix—"
Squawk!
Harry jumped and whipped around in his seat. Just as he did so, Fawkes burst into bright orange flames, an event Harry had witnessed before but which nevertheless still unsettled him, and stuck out his baby head from the heap of ashes underneath his perch.
Harry continued to stare for a moment, still feeling both queasy and shocked, until Dumbledore prompted,
"Bellatrix?"
Harry shook his head and turned back around.
"Right, sorry. Bellatrix was crying, she was the first one I saw. They were in some kind of room, I don't know where—"
"Aaaaaaaah!"
The piercing scream served as yet another interruption, fraying Harry's nerves even while alarming him. He and Dumbledore both looked at the door.
What now? Harry thought, getting up and following Dumbledore, who was already striding across the office to the door.
Back out in the corridor, the source of the scream was evident immediately. Not twenty feet down the hall from the stone gargoyle, a second-year girl was pinned against the wall, paralyzed by fear and staring wide-eyed into the eyes of a great, green crocodile.
Dumbledore muttered a spell under his breath that Harry could not hear, and instantly, red cords appeared out of thin air and wrapped themselves around the crocodile's snout while the crocodile shrunk in size until it was no larger than Harry's wand.
Harry could do nothing but stand and stare at this bizarre scene, even as Dumbledore acted swiftly, never showing the slightest sign that he found this situation at all out of the ordinary.
Quite calmly, Dumbledore strode the few feet across the hall to the miniature crocodile, picked it up, and held it firmly in his hands, just as Professor Flitwick came scurrying down the hall toward them.
"Oh—I'm so—where did it—?" Professor Flitwick stopped, seeing the little animal in Dumbledore's hands. "Is that--?"
"The crocodile that was just accosting Miss Jenison? Yes," Dumbledore replied conversationally.
Professor Flitwick sighed. "There was still a patch of the Weasley twins' swamp left," he explained. "Not the one in the corridor that we roped off, but a bigger one in an unused classroom. It's gone now, but that crocodile escaped before I could clear it up."
Dumbledore nodded. "Filius, would you please escort Miss Jenison to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey give her a Calming Draught?"
Professor Flitwick nodded and looked at the second-year girl, still pinned to the wall with fright.
"Come on, dear; do you think you can make it?" he asked in a soothing voice, going over to her and taking her by the arm.
Just as they rounded the corner, Professor McGonagall came round it, walking briskly.
"Good morning, Albus. Potter." She nodded at each of them in turn, and then stopped abruptly. "Is that...?"
"A crocodile," Dumbledore said lightly, almost happily.
"Oh…of course." She made to leave, a bewildered looked on her face, but Dumbledore said,
"Minerva, would you be so kind as to take this charming little creature down to Hagrid, please? I would do it myself, but I'm afraid my attention belongs to Harry at the moment, and he has been kept waiting."
Harry fought the extremely strong urge to laugh out loud as he watched Professor McGonagall's face when she took the crocodile from Dumbledore, looking less sure than he had ever seen her.
"Oh—well, I—to Hagrid's then," she stammered, looking incredibly flustered, and continued down the corridor.
"Now, Harry," Dumbledore, as serene as ever, said, "I believe we still have some business to discuss. After you." And he gestured for Harry to lead the way back down the corridor toward the gargoyle.
"Mugwump," Dumbledore said for the second time that morning, and again the gargoyle leapt aside to admit them.
As soon as they were back inside Dumbledore's office, Harry said, "VoldemortwasinlovewithBellatrix," all in a rush before he could be interrupted again.
"Excuse me?" said Dumbledore politely. Harry took a deep breath.
"Voldemort was in love with Bellatrix. When they were at Hogwarts. You said Voldemort doesn't know love, that that's my greatest power, one he doesn't have, but sir, I'm telling you, I know Voldemort has loved. He used to love Bellatrix, maybe even still loves her now. If I can use her against him, somehow, I think, well…I think it would work."
Harry ended rather feebly, realizing how unstable his plan sounded, because, really, it wasn't a plan, he had no idea how he could use Bellatrix against Voldemort.
He looked at Dumbledore for support, encouragement—ideas. But Dumbledore said nothing.
I don't know yet if this chapter will really have much relevance in the grand scheme of the story, but...I had fun writing it. Please read and review!