Almost A Dream Come True

Chapter Nine: D.A. Means Disaster Approaching

The potion bubbling in front of Summer was producing a lilac-colored mist that was making her feel very relaxed. She inhaled deeply and smiled. Potions was almost as therapeutic for her as flying must be for Harry.

"Finished?" Snape asked from the front of the class where he sat at his desk, marking fourth-year essays.

"Yes, sir," Summer replied happily. This potion was making her feel carefree and calm. It was wonderful, and she wondered if she could bottle some to take with her. It would definitely be useful before exams, and the next time she lost her temper.

Snape rose from the desk and peered into her cauldron. "Bottle it," he said curtly, waving his wand and producing a few small bottles.

Summer set about her task. In fact, she thought, the longer she stayed around the potion, the more lethargic she seemed to be. The fumes must be getting to her, as each bottle was increasingly heavy and she fought the urge to sleep. She yawned hugely.

"Late night, Granger?" Snape mocked.

"No, sir," she said, fighting off another yawn. She frowned. "Actually, I went to sleep quite early."

"When you're finished bottling, take the potion up to the Hospital Wing. The reason for your fatigue is the potion: it is what Madam Pomfrey gives to injured students to calm them down."

"Oh," said Summer, yawning again. She shook her head as though to clear out dust bunnies, and bottled the last of the potion. Almost immediately, the drowsiness was lifted, allowing her brain to function properly. "Wait… you mean, people are actually going to drink this?" she asked, worried.

"I would like to think that these lessons are not a complete waste of time, Granger," he replied snidely. "Yes, people will be making use of that potion. Keep the book, you'll need it for next week." He added the last part as Summer moved to place the grey book on his desk again.

"More for Madam Pomfrey, sir?"

"Yes. Chapters 13 through 17 should be sufficient preparation."

"Yes sir," replied Summer, getting ready to leave. "How was your Hallowe'en, professor?"

"It was a night like any other," said Snape curtly.

"Did you have fun?"

"It was adequately enjoyable," snapped Snape irritably. "Do not forget the essay on the uses of gillyweed in anti-venom potions for tomorrow. Three feet of parchment."

Summer murmured an assurance and left quickly. Apparently the rumor about Severus Snape's lack of social skills was not a rumor: the man was positively a hermit. As she made her way to the library, hoping to get another book on plants and potionmaking, or to find Neville and ask for help, a small but self-confident second year girl stopped her on the marble staircase.

"You're the new girl, right? Summer?"

"Er, yeah, that's me," Summer replied, brow furrowed, and uncertain why a second year would know her.

"Professor McGonagall would like to see you immediately. She'll be in her office, on the fourth floor. You just turn left after the painting of Lady Hermenegilda --,"

"I know where it is," retorted Summer.

"Fine," replied the girl with a shrug. And then the girl was gone, disappearing into a tapestry and the hidden passage beyond. Summer, wary of another bad day, headed for the deputy headmistress' office.

"Come in," was the reply when, after only one wrong turn, Summer knocked on McGonagall's door. The older witch was sitting at her desk, marking essays. It seemed to be a popular activity for teachers lately.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit, Miss Granger," McGonagall said and after a few more moments of quill-scratching and paper-shuffling, McGonagall turned her attention to Summer. "You may have notice that all the teachers are busy grading assignments." At a nod from Summer, she continued. "Because it is the beginning of November, most of us at Hogwarts are growing increasingly concerned with the upcoming Christmas examinations --,"

"Christmas?" Summer jumped in, cutting off the professor. "But it was Hallowe'en just yesterday!"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Granger," McGonagall replied smoothly. "Most of the professors have found your performance lacking, naturally, but are confident that by the end of the year you will have caught up. Professor Flitwick says you've made great improvements, and Professor Snape has not made complaints." This last bit was said as though it was a compliment… although, coming from Snape, it probably was.

"Okay… that's good, right?" Summer clarified.

"Quite. However, just to make sure that you are keeping up, you will be sitting an extra examination in December. I realize that it will be stressful for you, to take normal sixth year examinations, but we must be certain that you do not fall behind."

"Right. Great." This was quite possibly the least enthusiastic Summer had been since coming to Hogwarts. Bad enough that she understood only half, at best, of what her professors were teaching her, and that Harry remained stubbornly suspicious of her, and that people stopped her in the halls to give her directions, but now, on top of it all, she had the pleasure of writing an extra exam. The icing on the cake, she thought wryly.

"The examination will likely take place in either Professor Dumbledore's office or my own. We will let you know shortly. Expect to write it on the day following your final regular exams."

"Yes, Professor," replied Summer.

McGonagall's expression softened and she leaned forward on her desk. "My dear girl, I assure you: you have absolutely nothing to worry about. If you are anything at all like Hermione, this exam will be merely a quiz." She patted Summer's hand.

"Right. Thank you, Professor." As she was leaving, a question occurred to Summer. Hand already on the door, she paused and asked, "What will I be expected to know, Professor?"

"Only up to fourth year material. I am certain Harry will be able to teach you that much by Christmas."

"Up to fourth year, or including?"

"Including," McGonagall assured. "Enjoy the rest of the weekend, Miss Granger."

"Yeah, will do," Summer grumbled.

Sunday evening found Harry, Ron and Hermione studying in the common room. The boys were struggling to finish assignments at the last minute and Hermione was serenely petting Crookshanks, having finished all her homework earlier in the day. They hadn't seen Summer since breakfast, although several times Hermione had told the boys that when Summer did finally return to the common room, they had to be nice to her. She was on the urge of reminding them again when loud voices were heard coming from just outside the portrait hole. A moment later the portrait swung open, Summer entered, and the portrait slammed shut.

Summer stormed over to where they were sitting and shooed Crookshanks off of Hermione's lap. Throwing her bag heavily down on the floor, she flopped onto the couch beside Hermione, and lay down so that her head was in her cousin's lap.

"Please kill me," Summer said solemnly, looking up into Hermione's startled face.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked, starting to stroke Summer's hair in the same way she had been petting her cat moments ago.

"I can't find any more books on gillyweed for our Potions essay, I just got into a fight with the Fat Lady because apparently I wasn't polite enough when I told her the password, and McGonagall told me this afternoon that I have to write an extra exam in December," Summer replied in one breath, and threw a dramatic hand over her eyes. "I'm done, finished, over. Kill me."

Hermione laughed. "Pressure getting to you?"

"You should've seen us last year during our O.W.L.s," added Ron, seemingly grateful for an excuse to procrastinate. He immediately put his assignments aside.

"Alright, one thing at a time," Hermione said. "We can't help it that the Fat Lady gets inexplicably snappish sometimes… maybe she got into that painting of the drunk monks again. But apart from that, how much have you got written for Potions?"

"Three feet and about six inches," said Summer from her reclining position. "But I just wanted to double-check my facts. I'm worried that I misunderstood the usefulness of powdered gillyweed in the anti-venom for python attacks."

Ron snorted. "You're just as bad as Hermione."

The girl in question scowled. "Just because we want good grades, Ron, doesn't mean you should be jealous. And Summer, don't worry, I'll read it over for you. Have you got it with you?"

Summer, too lazy and depressed to physically get it out of her bag, raised her wand. "Accio Potions essay." The roll of parchment wriggled out of her bag and wobbled into the air, then gave up being airborne and dropped unceremoniously on her face. "I can't ever get that right," Summer grumbled as Hermione picked up the essay and unfurled the first few inches.

"You need to be more focused," said Harry. He spoke without looking up from his History of Magic notes.

Summer twisted her head around to see him better. "Thanks, I'll practice more later. Listen, Harry, would you be able to tutor me more often in December, before the exam? I have to know everything up to, and including, fourth year magic. It'd really help me a lot, if it isn't too much trouble."

"It is," he replied curtly. "I've got to focus on my own studies, and on Quidditch."

The excuse seemed false and flimsy. "Quidditch," repeated Summer. "Right."

Shortly afterwards, Harry and Ron gave up on History of Magic and went to bed. Summer got lost in her worries about the exam, even though it was nearly two months away, and envisioned her failure by transfiguring an egg into a teacup, rather than a saucer. Hermione absently stroked Summer's hair with one hand, holding Summer's Potions essay with her other hand. The common room became quiet and empty as the clock ticked steadily towards midnight.

"It's good," Hermione said, finally, rolling up the parchment. "And regarding the python anti-venom, it's never been proven to make a difference whether you use powdered or jellied gillyweed. I'm sure Snape will mark you fairly."

Summer sighed in relief, taking the roll of parchment. "Thanks, Hermione, you've been wonderful." She pushed herself upright again and put the essay back in her bag, ready to head to bed.

"Have you checked the galleon I gave you?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice, as though they were in danger of being overheard by the furniture. They crept slowly up the stairs to their dormitory.

"No," replied Summer, feeling guilty. "Why?"

"The next D.A. meeting is on Tuesday, at 7 in the evening. Meet me in the library after dinner, and we can go together."

"Thanks again, Hermione. Good night."

"Goodnight," said Hermione, already climbing into her bed. After a moment she stuck her head back through the drapes. "Oh, and Summer…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry so much," she said, with a wink, and disappeared back into the depths of her bed.


Tuesday came sooner than Summer had expected. Feeling as though maybe all the clocks in the school had fast-forwarded several hours, Summer perched on the edge of a chair in the library, mindlessly flipping the pages of a book for Herbology. Every small noise made her glance around sharply. Every few seconds, she looked up at the clock. 6:31 pm. 6:32 pm. She read a paragraph about Mandrakes, the sentences passing through her mind without sinking in. 6:34 pm.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Summer nearly jumped out of her skin. She whirled around. Draco, arms folded, smirking arrogantly, was leaning against the nearest shelves.

"Interesting book?"

"Very," Summer replied, tensely.

"Seems full of suspense."

"It is." She didn't know why she was lying so blatantly. Surely Malfoy could see the title, Fabulous and Fearsome Flora, from where he was standing. It was neither interesting nor full of suspense.

"Hm."

"And you?" Summer asked.

"Me what?"

"What're you doing here? Reading interesting books?" she said sarcastically.

"It is a library, Granger," he pointed out.

"So I see." A silence settled between them. What was she to say? Thank you for helping me find my way back to Hogwarts when I was too stupid to do it myself? Thanks for teaching me a new spell? Or should she insult him again? She compromised by pretending to be engrossed in her book. The next time she looked up to check the time (6:47 pm), Malfoy had disappeared. A few moments later (6:49 pm), Hermione rushed into the library.

"Hi, so sorry, had to get rid of Ron, you know," she whispered quickly, picking up some of Summer's books, and ushering her out of the library. "Come on, we'd better hurry, especially if we don't want Harry to notice."

At that, a stab of guilt went through Summer. Was this right? But Hermione wouldn't hear a word of Summer's doubts or protests, and they ran through hallways and up stairs, finally arriving out of breath in a deserted corridor on the seventh floor, remarkable only because of a horrid tapestry depicting dancing trolls.

"Do you remember how we got here?" Hermione asked. Summer nodded. "Okay, good. Next time I hope you'll just check the galleon for the time, and that you won't get lost." Summer opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it, and let Hermione continue. "What you've got to do, is walk past this wall three times, thinking hard of what you need. In our case, we need the headquarters of Dumbledore's Army. Ready?" And, holding Summer's hand as though it might help, or keep her from leaving, Hermione led them past the blank wall. On the third pass, a door materialized, behind which a low murmur of voices could be heard.

Summer could feel her heartbeat in her fingers and hear it pounding madly in her eardrums. If Harry found out, if he was already there, watching the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Summer was lost… surely, now, he would get angry with Hermione as well, and perhaps even accuse the both of them of being Death Eaters or spies… paranoia, after all, made anything seem likely.

But, Summer soon realized that she was panicking for no reason. The room, bright and usually spacious, was filled with students talking excitedly. Hermione was immediately called over by some younger students asking for help, which gave Summer the perfect opportunity to slink to the back, unnoticed. For a few minutes, the students gossiped about everything until a silence spread through them with the arrival of Harry. Here, in front of his fellows, Harry wore the mantle of leadership well. He began a brief explanation of what they hoped to achieve today: Disillusionment charms. Summer observed, seeing students nodding in understanding and listening carefully. Some of them were as old, or older than Harry was, and still they paid him due respect.

When they paired up to try the Charms on one another, Summer found herself facing the same girl who had delivered McGonagall's message.

"Hey, Summer, right?" the girl asked.

"Yeah… er… I'm sorry, I don't know your name," Summer apologized, feebly, more concerned at the moment with keeping her back to Harry.

"Don't worry about it. Nel River, Ravenclaw" the girl replied with ease. "You go first."

They started practicing, Summer managing to Disillusion about half of Nel, and the younger girl (on her toes in order to reach the top of Summer's head) having about the same success. Once, Nel managed to entirely Disillusion Summer, but when Summer panicked at not being able to see herself, the charm flickered and dissolved on its own. Although Harry passed close to them several times, the two girls didn't attract much attention: the people who had turned bright colors, disappeared completely, or were hitting one another on the heads with their wands without any results, these were the people Harry paid most attention to.

After about an hour and a half, Harry called for quiet.

"You've done brilliantly. If you can, practice a bit before the next time we meet. Next time we'll go over Disillusionment, fix it up if we can. I'm hoping to start Arms Transfiguration before Christmas."

"What's that?" asked the younger Creevey brother, Denis.

"Transfiguring normal objects into something you can use, like a shield or a sword, or maybe even shelter," Harry replied. "Okay? Good. See you."

Students began filing slowly out of the room while Ron and Hermione hung back with Harry. Summer, uncertain if she should wait or not, hovered in the shadows close to the door. When Luna and Neville left, Luna talking animatedly about Crumple Horned Snorkacks, Summer decided to leave. She was just stepping after them, when—

"Summer."

Harry had spoken her name without any hint of emotion, yet it felt as though he had yelled. Cover busted, she stopped, turned, and stared determinedly at her shoes. She heard Hermione shuffle nervously. In the corner of her eye, she spotted Ron trying to look at once imposing and friendly, crossing and uncrossing his arms, clearly unsure whether he ought to support Harry or Hermione.

"I hope you found the lesson informative," said Harry, quietly, formally, stiffly.

Summer's head jerked up. She had not expected this, but accusations. "Yes, I did."

"Good." He did not actually sound happy, and looked cross, frowning. "Let me know if you need help," he said coldly, and moved past her, exiting the room. Ron, glancing at the two girls and giving an apologetic shrug, followed him out.

Summer looked at Hermione, stunned. "What did you do?" she asked.

Hermione grinned triumphantly. "I told him that if he was still suspicious of you, then he might as well admit now that Malfoy is Voldemort's heir and that Dumbledore is out to kill Harry. In general, that he was being idiotic and absolutely illogical," replied Hermione.

"Did you really?" Summer gave her a quick hug and they strolled out into the corridor. "Hermione, where would I be without you?"

"The library?"

The two Grangers burst into giggles.