I'm baaaaack!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 10:

Word of Harry's 'episode' for lack of a better word in the Gryffindor common room spread like wildfire for the next two weeks. Naturally Harry was pissed, his patience wearing thinner than ever. He snapped at nearly everyone, the exception being his teachers. And whenever he became irritated Tonks noticed something that gave her chills. His eyes. It was hardly noticeable if you weren't looking for it, but she saw the small rings of red around his pupils, crimson and clover.

Moody in particular did not appreciate Harry's attitude, the smart ass remarks or the way the teen would snap at times. It made each training session rough to say the least. Four times those two weeks, Harry walked into the common room bleeding and bruised, and without a word to anybody. Harry knew he deserved it and that it needed to stop, but the cold voice in his head never went away. Sometimes it spoke of threats, other times offering advice. The angel on one shoulder, devil on the other. It got to Harry, having the conflicting thoughts in his head.

Also the nightmares did not cease to come. Every night his sleep was plagued with the haunting darkness, the tortured screams of people he didn't even know. Once or twice he'd seen into Voldemort's mind as he and his fellow death eaters brutally killed helpless families. The first family that Harry had witness killed had the last name of Abbot. Hannah Abbot's family. She hadn't been seen since and for some reason, Harry felt guilty. As though he could have possibly stopped it if only he'd woken up. But he'd witnessed from start to finish the cruelty of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It still made him feel sick. This is what happened in war?

•••

"Please!" Harry gasped as he tried to dodge Moody's sword. His exhaustion made his movements clumsy and he crashed to the ground as the flat of the blade crushed his ribs. Harry sat on the floor trying to regain his breath as Ron, Hermione and Tonks all watched. They didn't usually come to watch the training sessions, but Mad-eye thought that it would be a good idea to have them come. "I need a break!"

Moody snorted with contempt. "Showing the weakness of a child Potter. And wasting breath."

Harry snarled and used his own sword to hoist himself up. Weakness of a child, he says! No fucking right! Harry charged at the ex-auror, swinging his blade. Moody blocked the attack with his sword before dropping it. In the blink of an eye his fists collided with either side of Harry's head. Moody shoved a dazed Harry to the ground.

"That was what you call fighting?" Moody growled out. "If I had been a death eater you'd have been dead in seconds! You lost your head!"

Harry rubbed his temples, glaring up at his mentor. Fucking asshole. "What the fuck kind of death eater fights with a sword anyway? I have yet to see that!"

Moody's sword pointed at his throat, just grazing the skin. Harry looked back defiantly. "How many battles have you been in, boy? You know nothing of war! You and your friends managed to survive in the department of mysteries with sheer luck and by the skin of your teeth!"

"Merlin, Mad-eye!" Tonks exclaimed. She glanced at Harry, still on the ground, staring blankly and trembling in anger. What the fuck was Moody playing at? "Take it easy on him! He's not training to be a fucking auror!"

"No, he's not," Mad-eye agreed. "He's training for something much bigger! I know damn well what the prophecy must have contained and I know damn well the Potter here is going to be on the front lines of this war. I agreed to this so that he might stand a chance against Voldemort." he looked down at Harry, lowering his sword. "So far it is not promising."

Harry gritted his teeth. Fuck Moody. He forced himself back to his feet with determination glowing in his green and slightly red eyes. He would have to prove himself to the old bastard. Harry raised his sword, gripping it in both hands. "Let's go again."

•••

He hit the ground for the umpteenth time that night. Blood flowed from a gash on his arm. He didn't fucking care anymore, especially since Moody was sporting gashes of his own. Blood from both men dripped onto the floor as Harry pushed himself up again. He coughed, a burning pain erupting from his lungs. That probably wasn't from smoking, but from the abuse he was suffering at Moody's hands. Possibly combined with the smoking.

"That will be enough for tonight" his fighting instructor told him. "Keep practicing in your free time and learn to keep those fucking comments under control."

Moody left and Harry sank back into a chair that the room provided. The three others in the room gathered around their worn out friend. Tonks conjured a bowl of water and a cloth that she used to clean the wound. It stung just a little but Harry didn't give a fuck.

Tonks was muttering angrily. "Don't know what the fuck he thinks he's doing! Acting like you're a trainee! Worse even!"

"Drop it Tonks."

She glared at Harry, pausing in her task for the moment. She opened her mouth to tell him off but Hermione nudged her. The younger witch just shook her head. Tonks got the meaning. Now wasn't a good time to piss Harry off. His eyes reverted to the normal green, though they were dull from pain and exhaustion. Tonks bit her tongue and looked down at the bandages she was putting around his arm.

"I'll see you in the morning mate," Ron said suddenly, clapping his friend lightly on the shoulder. Harry no longer slept in the dorm with the other boys. Not since the incident in the common room. He didn't want to wake the others if something like that happened again. He was certain that it was only a matter of time. "Get some sleep tonight, yeah?"

"I will do my very best," Harry smiled weakly. Ron nodded and left, Hermione following soon afterwards. Harry and Tonks then sat in silence. It was a comfortable one though, not awkward like it was with most. Just companionable silence, the kind he never got with Ron or Hermione who tended to fill it with talk of Quidditch and school.

"You really shouldn't talk to him like that you know."

And the silence was gone. He should've known it wouldn't last. Tonks was too talkative. Harry turned his head to glare at her. She didn't know—or actually she did know what being trained by Alastor Moody was like. A pain in the fucking ass. "I know," he mumbled, staring straight ahead again. But it's not me that's doing it! "I'm trying so hard to stop it."

Tonks nodded, standing up from her own chair that the room provided. She walked over to a strange cupboard that appeared next to the wall. Harry heard the sound of glass clinking against glass. Butterbeer maybe? Nope. Tonks came back holding a potion bottle and his cigarettes he'd placed on a rack that held the many swords.

"This will help the pain," she said handing him the bottle. "And these because I'm nice." she put his cigarettes on the arm of his chair.

"Thanks." Harry threw back his head, downing the potion as though he were taking shots. He grimaced at the taste he was slowly becoming used to. He slid a cigarette out of the box and Tonks lit it with her wand as it hung from his lips. "Such a big help."

Tonks grinned and ruffled his hair which she knew he hated. That's why she did it. "I know what it's like. I always had a friend around to help me out after each training session. Guess I might as well do the same for you."

Harry smiled a bit and nodded. He sank back into his chair and took a drag. "It's appreciated." he took another drag and ashed his cigarette on the floor. He could ask the room for an ash tray if he thought it might work. But were ashtrays a muggle thing, or were they from both worlds? Would the room provide one even? "How many death eaters use swords?" he asked. When he had asked Moody that had been a genuine question. It just came out angrier than intended.

"There are a few who actually carry them with them," Tonks answered. "A few that we know about anyway. Voldemort is gathering forces like crazy and we don't know how. But there are many trained with swords. Bellatrix for example, and I'm sure that one would really want to stay away from that woman while she wields a sword. That's why you're doing this. You will need any advantage you can get. Like Alastor said, you'll be on the front lines. Along with Ron and Hermione most likely, as much as you hate to think about that."

Harry looked down. Ron and Hermione. They would be fighting because they were his best friends. They were only in danger because he associated with him. If they weren't then they would be able to just leave, go somewhere safe with their families. He looked at Tonks. "You ever killed anyone Tonks?"

She looked slightly taken aback at the question. Then she shook her head. "No. I haven't been an auror for very long, three years, and not many battles have happened. But before this is over, that's going to be different."

"Ron and Hermione, they're going to have to kill. And how many others, forced into this war?"

Tonks shook her head. "They choose to fight, Harry, they aren't forced. They all had a choice."

"And me?"

"You're the exception."

Harry snorted. That was the fucking truth. Nobody else had a prophecy hanging over their head saying they had to kill a dark lord. So he would fight because he had to. "I'm not just doing thus shit so I have half of a chance to beat the pesky dark lord that makes my life hell," he told Tonks whose lips twitched as the phrase 'pesky dark lord'. "I highly doubt I'll come out of that battle alive."

Always the optimist.

Shut up.

"I just want to take down as many of Voldemort's lackeys as I can." he finished. Tonks stared at him with a sad expression. Harry crushed his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. He shrugged and flicked it onto the ground a few feet away.

"You shouldn't think like that," Tonks said. Harry smirked a little. She was channeling Hermione. How many times had his bookworm friend said those very same words to him? Too many to count. Tonks didn't say anything more, just stood and began to walk toward the door with a quiet good night. She paused halfway out the door and turned to him. "And here's a small tip for when you're fighting against Mad-eye. Stop fighting like your cousin." At Harry's somewhat reproachful and hurt look she continued, "You're quick enough on your feet to dodge, so dodge. Use that to your advantage. Night Harry. Happy thoughts."

•••

Harry tossed Ron his broom, interrupting the ongoing chess game between his red haired friend and Seamus. Ron quickly caught the broom before it hit him in the face.

"Let's go for a quick fly."

Ron and Seamus raised their eyebrows. Everyone knew that Harry usually just didn't have time to goof around. When he wasn't doing his homework, he and Katie were making plays and planning practices. When he wasn't doing that they actually were at practice. If not that he was… well nobody but Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks knew that he was training. Everyone else just didn't have a clue. Harry was a mystery to them.

"What's the occasion?" Ron asked.

"No occasion," Harry grinned. He was in a good mood. No dreams the night before, no onflicting thoughts in his head. "Stayed up all night, did all my assignments. Felt the need for some free time. Now let's go."

"Right." Ron nodded. "Dean take my place." Dean groaned, knowing that the game would only last a minute before he lost.

On the way out of the common room they bumped into Katie and Tonks. Literally. Harry ran into Katie, knocking her books out of her hands. Katie stumbled back into Tonks who toppled to the floor. Katie kept her balance for a few seconds, waving her arms to stay upright. It was all in vain as she fell next to Tonks. Harry didn't even drop his broom.

"Damnit Harry!" Tonks shouted.

"Sorry Erin." He helped her up and then Katie. Ron was busy laughing and trying to keep it quiet. He succeeded when the two girls glared at him. Harry hastily picked up all of the books and handed them to Katie. "Sorry."

"You two going out to fly?" Katie asked. Stupid question really. Why else would they have brooms? But Harry only nodded. The girls looked just as surprised as Ron and Seamus had. Then Tonks smiled.

"Good. A little fresh air wouldn't hurt every once in a while."

•••

The two boys took to the air. Ron commented that it was nice to just fly without a purpose and without having to run laps first. Harry was adamant that everyone run around the pitch three times before each practice. Something they all resented. Neither one talked, they just flew with a bit of competitiveness, sometimes trying to knock the other off their broom, cutting the other one off, that sort of thing.

Finally Harry began to slow and he hovered. Ron stopped next to him, looking at Harry curiously. Harry slowly lit a cigarette, staring at the stands where several girls had gathered to watch the 'Chosen One' fly. They were far enough away that the girls wouldn't hear anything. He turned his gaze to Ron.

"Tonks told me she's been helping you and Hermione train." he said. The night before he and Tonks had another conversation about the war and their biggest worries. Harry's had been his friends. Tonks' had been her parents.

"Yeah. While you go off with Sir Paranoia, sometimes she'll help us. I'm sure we aren't exactly learning the same things as you, but it's something."

Harry nodded. "Good."

"Huh? Did I hear that correctly?" Ron asked and Harry chuckled, though he quickly sobered.

"Actually I was talking to Tonks about a week ago after that training session with Mad-eye. And she made me realize that the two of you will be involved with this war almost as much as me, however much a dislike it. In my mind every single student in that school ought to be practicing there spells. In a war such as this everyone is in danger. Defense against the Dark Arts, even with a… competent teacher won't do much good."

"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

"Every day, my friend. Every fucking day. I see the firsties in the common room, trying to learn spells that they won't learn until later years. I hear the worried whispers of the other students, all worrying about their families and if they will be seeing them again when the school year is over. Already Hannah won't be."

They sat there in a solemn silence. And then Ron realized something that brought a grin to his face. "You called Snape competent."

•••

Saturday night the team walked in from a dreadful Quidditch practice. Ritchie Coote had collided with Jimmy Peakes and those two went spiraling to the ground. Harry felt no sympathy for them at that moment. They hadn't broken any bones and could still move so he'd ordered them back onto the brooms. Ron had been nervous and a little off thanks to the people watching from the stands. He let in so many goals that Harry had slapped his forehead in aggravation, leaving a nice red mark. Lastly a stray bludger caught Demelza's right arm so with one of their chasers on their way to the hospital wing, the team called it quits.

"Bad day?" Hermione asked as the two boys heavily sat down.

"You could say that," Ron muttered bitterly.

Harry glared at the floor. It seemed as though it had done him wrong in some way to anybody who looked at him. He looked at Tonks. "Ready for the occlumency lesson?"

"You sure you're feeling up to it?" Harry nodded. "Maybe we should just skip it today. You could-"

Harry stood up and headed to the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. Tonks sighed. He was getting the invisibility cloak. She waited until she felt a tap on her shoulder before getting up and heading to the portrait hole. This was how it went. They couldn't leave together as rumors would start and it would seem strange if the portrait hole opened on its own. So they came to the decision that Harry would follow Tonks from under the cloak. Ron would tell everyone that he was sleeping and it would be unwise to disturb him. Hermione would come up with some excuse for Tonks, or rather Erin. It worked.

Once in the corridors Tonks slid under the cloak with Harry, making herself shorter while Harry crouched to that their feet wouldn't show. The cloak wasn't exactly meant for two people unless they were short. First to fourth years short. Tonks watched Harry out of the corner of her eye as he hobbled along to the seventh floor. She stifled her laughter. He looked completely ridiculous.

"Why do you push yourself like this?" she whispered.

Harry glared at her. "Well two people weren't exactly meant to-"

"Not what I meant," Tonks interrupted with a quiet laugh. She realized that she hadn't really phrased the question very descriptively. "I meant why do you work so hard? You never take a break."

"Oh." harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "You would do the same thing in my position."

"You-Know-Who isn't going to attack you here in the castle! You're safe."

"Tonks, I don't fucking care about Voldemort right now! I just want some answers!"

"To what?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. Why did she ask so many fucking questions? Luckily they'd gotten to the room of requirement. He slid out from underneath the cloak and paced back and forth three times. No door appeared. He tried again. Nothing.

"Fuck you door." he muttered. Turning to Tonks he said, "Someone must be in there. Let's go find somewhere else."

Dudley unknowingly ran straight for a dementor… Number Twelve appeared before his very eyes… he sat in detention with Umbridge and her fucking torture quill...

Stop, he told himself. Clear your fucking mind Potter. These are your memories. Nobody has the right to see them. Concentrate!

There was a silver rope, pulling at what appeared to be a battered scrapbook. At first Harry felt only confusion. Then he saw the bookshelves that lined the walls of this strange room he had appeared in. These must be his memories. The rope-like thing somehow opened the book and an image swirled in front of him of Sirius falling back through the veil of death. Before that memory took hold, Harry did the first thing he thought of. He grabbed the rope and pulled. It snapped easily in his hands.

Harry found himself back in the classroom he and Tonks had chosen for the lesson. Tonks rubbed her head with a somewhat pained expression, but she was smiling. Harry realized that he'd done it. Finally thrown her from his mind. He wasn't sure how the fuck it happened, but it did.

"Nice job, Potter." she told him. "But you've got to be quicker than that."

Harry nodded. That much was obvious. But he still couldn't stop smiling. Then Tonks grabbed his hand and held it up in front of her. Oh yeah, the Umbridge detentions were one of the memories she'd seen. Shit.

"Fucking bitch," she hissed, all happiness gone in an instant. "Fucked up in the head!"

Harry looked at her, surprised. He never heard her sound so venomous. Angry, yes. But this was a different kind of angry. He furrowed his eyebrows as she stared at the scar. At least it wasn't with admiration at the one on his head. "You alright?" he asked, causing Tonks to look up sharply. She looked unsure, as though she didn't want to say. "Come on Tonks. Did she do something to you?"

Her grip on his hand tightened almost painfully for a moment as fire burned in her eyes. Then she slowly let go of his hand, for which he was grateful. "It happened when I was eighteen, first starting out as an auror trainee. I was late and I was running. You've seen how busy the ministry can get. I bumped into her. Hardly even nudged her actually and she made this huge fucking deal, tearing into me in the middle of the lobby. Humiliating me. I said some things I shouldn't have and ended up in her office with that quill. Never told anyone."

She held up her right hand and Harry peered closer at it. "I must not talk back," he read. Tonks watched as red bled into green. Crimson and Clover, over and over. Harry looked at Tonks, eyes burning with some strange determination. "Let's make a pact," he said, holding out his scarred hand. "Let's get back at the fucking toad."

Tonks stared at his hand before taking it in her own. They shook. "you know one of the things I did to get this scar was call her a toad."

A/N: Yup. I have found a general direction for this story. About fuckin time right? So I should be updating once or twice every weekend, ya know. Type it up on the old iPod and upload it on the weekends when I go to my grandparents. Sad that they have Internet and I don't. Oh, and Crimson and clover is a song and I don't own it, but you should all go ahead and listen to it.

10/23/11