Chapter 11: Preparations
The next morning, Harry woke up, put on his glasses, and rolled over to find himself in an empty room. Normally, Ron would still be snoring, and Harry would have to wake him up. He got up to put on his robes, and noticed that Ron's blankets hadn't been disturbed.
"I wonder where he could be…" Harry wondered, furrowing his eyebrows.
He walked down to the common room to see if Hermione had seen him. As he looked among all the heads bobbing around though, he realized that she wasn't there. Her usual chair by the fire was now occupied by a first year. Wondering what could possibly have happened to his two best friends, Harry walked down to breakfast alone.
As Harry entered the Great Hall, he glanced up at the staff table and saw that Lupin was eating breakfast alone - Lily was nowhere to be seen. Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table, realizing that for the first time, Draco Malfoy and his cronies weren't jeering at him, in fact, none of the Slytherins were. He looked over at their table, and at the same time, they all looked down at their plates. He continued to his own table. He saw Ron and Hermione huddled together, and when he took a seat next to Ron, he realized that they had been whispering, and he somehow got the feeling that for once, they weren't whispering about him.
"Good morning Ron, Hermione." he said, cocking an eyebrow in their direction. He picked up a piece of toast and began slathering it with jam.
"Good morning Harry." they said simultaneously.
"Getting an early start on the day, I see." Harry smirked.
Ron and Hermione blushed.
"We saw you sneak out of the portrait hole last night. Where were you going?" Hermione asked, stirring honey into her morning tea, and trying valiantly to change the subject.
"I went to see McGonagall, but I couldn't get in." he paused, wondering if he should tell them the rest. Hermione, sensing that he wasn't finished, piped up.
"What is it, Harry?"
Harry recounted the events of the evening.
"Lupin?" Hermione said incredulously, looking up at the staff table. The aforementioned professor had his head bowed over a bowl of oatmeal.
"And your mom?" Ron said around a mouthful of steak and kidney pie.
"Yeah." Harry said softly. "But it's ok. I mean, she's going to need someone to take care of her when I'm gone, and who better than Lupin? I mean, they obviously like each other, and they trust each other. I think I'd rather she be with him than anyone else."
Ron and Hermione were silent. They really had no idea what to say to Harry's comment.
"Have you guys seen Neville anywhere?" Harry asked suddenly, setting down his fork and remembering his conversation with Dumbledore.
"I think I saw him heading towards the library." Hermione said, snapping out of her silence.
"Ok," Harry said, picking up a piece of toast and rising from his seat. "Thanks Hermione." he said, walking
out of the Great Hall and heading for the library.
"Is it just me, or has Harry been acting strangely lately?" Ron said quizzically, looking at Hermione.
"He sure has. I wonder what's the matter with him? Where's he going all the time? And what does he want with Neville? It doesn't make any sense!" Hermione pounded the table, spilling her pumpkin juice on the tablecloth.
"Maybe we should follow him and find out." Ron shrugged.
"Ronald! We can't spy on our own friend!"
"Then how else are we going to find out what's wrong with him?" Ron mumbled through his eggs.
Hermione went back to stirring her tea.
"Unless we talk to his mom." Ron piped up.
"That's a brilliant idea, Ronald! I wonder why I didn't think of it in the first place?!" Hermione jumped up off her seat, wrapped her arms around Ron's neck, kissed him on the cheek, and headed off in the direction of the dungeons.
Ron touched his cheek softly, got up, and followed Hermione; his face turning as red as his hair.
While the happy couple was headed toward the dungeons, Harry made his way to the library.
"May I help you?" demanded Madame Pince as he walked through the door.
Harry was taken aback. "I'm looking for Neville Longbottom." he finally managed to say.
Madame Pince sighed. "He's in the Herbology section." she said as she traipsed back towards her desk.
Harry took off in the direction of the Herbology section as fast as his legs would carry him. He found Neville deeply immersed in A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
"Hello, Neville." Harry greeted him.
Neville's head shot up as if Snape had just screamed at him.
"Oh, hullo Harry, it's just you." he said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Harry nodded, trying not to laugh. "I was wondering if I might be able to talk to you about something." Harry said in a very businesslike tone, taking a seat next to Neville.
Neville reluctantly closed his book and tried his best to give Harry his full attention.
"This past summer, Dumbledore paid me a visit through an old portrait. He seemed to think it would be an extremely good idea for me to continue teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts in the Room of Requirement. What do you think?"
Neville looked baffled at actually being asked seriously for his opinion about something.
"I-I had fun the last time; especially with the patronuses." Neville replied slowly, afraid this was some cruel joke.
Harry nodded, remembering. "Would you like to start practicing again?"
"Sure Harry! I'd love to! Can't be too careful these days."
"Good." Harry said. "Meet me outside the Room of Requirement after dinner."
After his conversation with Neville, Harry ran as fast as he could back to Gryffindor Tower, grabbed his wand and his schoolbag, and ran as fast as he could to Transfiguration. Just as he was walking in the door, the bell rang. He half expected Professor McGonagall to give him detention for a week. However, as he looked up from his seat next to Ron, he saw that it wasn't Professor McGonagall standing at the front of the room.
"Ron," he said, turning in his best friend's direction, "who is that?"
Ron looked up at him quizzically. "That's the new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Faravis. Bloody hell, you didn't actually expect McGonagall to keep teaching us on top of everything else she has to do?"
"Why didn't she introduce him at dinner?"
This time it was Hermione who spoke up. "She did introduce him; right before she introduced Lupin. You didn't hear her?"
"I guess not." Harry said, looking the new teacher over from head to foot; he looked trustworthy enough: tall and skinny with sandy brown hair and soft brown eyes. He looked to be in his early to mid twenties.
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "Harry, Ron and I are worried about you." Hermione said sheepishly. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately." She didn't add that she and Ron had spoken to Lily, even though Lily hadn't told them very much.
"What are you talking about?" Harry replied distractedly, shrugging his shoulders, "I'm acting just fine."
Hermione didn't have a chance to argue, however, because at that moment, Professor Faravis decided to start class.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced in a soft baritone voice, not unlike that of Remus Lupin, "I understand that there is a war going on outside, and that most if not all of you would rather be at home curled up in a little ball hiding away from it. However, I assure you that even without the physical presence of Albus Dumbledore, this school is the safest place any of you could ever hope to be."
Harry didn't hear much of the rest of the professor's speech, though, because he was too busy writing down what he planned to teach Neville that night.
After class, Harry headed to the Room of Requirement while Ron and Hermione headed off to their next classes.
"I need somewhere to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts." Harry recited in his mind as he walked back and forth in front of the tapestry.
When he stopped and opened his eyes there was a solid oak door with a brass doorknob where the stretch of bare wall had been seconds before.
He went in and was surprised to see that the room looked exactly as it had two years previous when the DA had made frequent visits to it. There were stacks of pillows in the corners, and shelves with various instruments set upon them.
"At least some things haven't changed." Harry thought. "Now what should I teach Neville?"
Harry had no idea where to begin. He knew he needed to prepare Neville to face Lord Voldemort, but how do you prepare someone for the ultimate enemy? Harry felt like beating his head against the wall. He still hadn't even told Neville why he wanted to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts with him. How would he react? He decided that first he needed to give Neville instructions on how to get into the Room of Requirement. He pulled a slip of parchment out of his bag and began to write.
Neville,
Don't forget to meet me after dinner.
Come alone. The password to get in
is "I need somewhere to practice
Defense Against the Dark Arts."
see you after dinner.
Harry.
P.S. Destroy this letter as soon as
you've memorized the password.
Harry replaced his quill and inkwell into his bag and left the room. He watched as the door dissolved back into the wall, then headed down to dinner. He spotted Ron and Hermione sitting next to each other, whispering again, and he walked right past them. It hurt that he couldn't talk to them anymore, but it was for their own good. At least so he thought. He walked up to Neville, set the note beside his plate, then walked away, not noticing the puzzled look that Neville and his friends were giving him.
He found a seat that had been left empty and sat down. He didn't really feel hungry, but one look at all of his favorite foods made his appetite voracious. When his plate wan empty, he drained the last of his pumpkin juice, grabbed some cookies and doughnuts from a nearby tray, wrapped them in a napkin, and headed for Gryffindor Tower. When he reached the boys' dormitory, he dropped his school bag on the foot of his bed, opened up his trunk, pulled out his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, and closed his trunk. He pointed his wand at the Marauder's map and muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The map snaked its way to life, and Harry scanned it for any sign of Neville.
Instead of finding Neville, he spotted Ron and Hermione walking hand in hand toward the Head Girl's room where Hermione slept. Harry didn't even want to know why they were headed there. He was half tempted to look for his mother or Professor Lupin, but he realized that he probably didn't want to know what they were up to anyway. With a pang of guilt, he realized that Ginny was probably off somewhere with a boyfriend of her own also.
"Mischief managed." He muttered, and shoved the map and his wand back into his pocket. Snatching up his invisibility cloak, he started down the stairs at a run, shoving the cloak in another of his pockets as he ran. He shoved the portrait hole open ("I beg your pardon!") and bolted in the direction of the Room of Requirement. He arrived out of breath and panting. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his invisibility cloak, and threw it over himself. When he was sure he was completely out of sight of anything (he'd grown two more inches over the summer, and was almost taller than Ron,) he pulled out the Marauder's Map and repeated his earlier command. He noted that dinner was letting out, which reminded him of the snacks he'd brought along with him. He munched in silence as he watched the little dot labeled "Neville Longbottom" move firstly to Gryffindor Tower, then towards Harry's current location. Harry wiped his hands and face on his napkin, brushed the crumbs off the front of his robes, and when he was sure no one but Neville was headed in his direction, he cleared the map. He pulled the invisibility cloak off just as Neville was turning the corner.
"Hello Neville."
"Hiya Harry. Why did you ask me to come alone?"
Harry paused. "Here we go…" he thought.
"Um, could we go inside first, Neville? I don't want anybody to find us."
"Sure Harry." Neville replied nervously.
The two walked back and forth in front of the door, reciting the password in their minds. When they opened their eyes, the oak door with the brass handle was back.
The two took a deep breath and walked back inside.
"So what's up Harry?" Neville asked, getting more confused and nervous every second.
He motioned for Neville to sit down, and then joined him. With a sigh, Harry began to speak.
"What I'm about to tell you may make your hair curl and your blood boil, but you have to believe me no matter what, ok?"
Neville nodded, looking frightened.
Harry then proceeded to explain to Neville about the trips he had taken with Dumbledore the previous year, and where he and Dumbledore had been right before Snape killed Dumbledore.
Neville listened intently, shivering when Harry described the events that had transpired on the tower. Harry had to ball his hands into fists when he described the way Albus Dumbledore died. He could remember every moment in vivid detail. When he got to the point where Hagrid discovered Dumbledore's body, he had to stop.
"Harry," Neville blubbered, now starting to cry himself, "what does any of that have to do with me?"
Harry sighed and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robes.
"Dumbledore visited me through a painting at the burrow this past summer. He told me that I was the final horcrux, and that in order to defeat the Dark Lord, I must be killed."
Neville looked like he'd just been petrified.
"B-but Harry, if he kills you, who will kill him?"
Harry smiled grimly. "Why do you think I asked you to come here?"
Neville's reaction was much like what Harry had thought it would be. Neville panicked and leaped up off the floor, crashing into the wall.
"Harry, you've gone mental! I can't kill anyone! Least of all you-know-who!"
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You have to, Neville," he said unfalteringly. "It's the only way. If you don't kill him, then he'll kill everyone else. Do you really want to give him that satisfaction?"
"But Harry…" Neville pleaded.
The two sat in silence. Harry's mind wandered to his mother and Remus Lupin. He had meant what he'd said about them – they would need each other when he was gone. He also thought about Ron and Hermione, and how their relationship had grown closer over the years.
"Neville, nothing worth doing is ever easy to do. That's something I've learned over the years. Think about all of our friends and family members. Could you live with yourself knowing that because of you, Voldemort could show up at any moment?" Harry pressed.
Neville shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry. You've really picked the wrong man for the job." He headed for the door.
"Neville, what would your parents want you to do?" Harry asked quietly.
Neville stopped in his tracks.
"Do you mean to tell me that they'd want you to stand idly by and watch as your friends met the same fate as they did? You know Voldemort will do it."
Neville turned back to face Harry. "Why on Earth would you pick me for this, Harry? Isn't there anyone else? Anyone else at all?"
Harry shook his head. "I didn't pick you Neville. In fact, I was just as skeptical as you are when I realized it." He proceeded to explain the prophecy. "Not only does the prophecy speak of me, it speaks of you too. You were born the day before me, and your parents were defeated three times by Voldemort. It's your destiny, Neville. Just take all your anger and hatred and let it guide you. I know that's usually bad advice, but in your case, it might just work."
Neville chuckled a little despite the circumstances. "How are we ever going to live without you, Harry?" Neville swallowed hard.
Harry didn't seem to have heard him. He was too busy reading through his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes. "Now I'm going to have to talk to Professor D-McGonagall before we can practice the unforgiveable curses, but I think we should be able to practice defensive spells without too much trouble." He found the page he was looking for and turned to face Neville. "Are you ready?"