Ends and Means
Hello everybody!
Welcome to chapter 21. Once more, I am posting this update later than I initially promised. Sorry 'bout that. I'm afraid reality keeps coming along and screwing up my plans. Anyhoo, i just wanted to say a big THANK YOU!! to everyone out there, especially my lovely reviewers. I had a whopping 93 reviews for the last chapter, which is something I still haven't managed to wrap my head around. So thanks.
Also, in regards to last chapter's question, I put the question out to get a feel for my audience (mostly girls but a few guys too!), not for stalking purposes (I have neither the time nor inclination), and not because I prefer one gender of readers over the other. I hope this lays a few people's fears to rest. If you don't already know, I am a girl.
This chapter was a difficult one for me to churn out simply because it mainly focuses on tying up some loose ends before the next part of the plot begins. Hence, I don't really know how well I've pulled this off. I did love writing Luna though. snickers. Anyway, Enjoy!
Chapter 21: Thanks
"Ah, my home away from home," were the first words that left his lips as Harry awoke, causing Madam Pomfrey to roll her eyes in exasperation.
"At this rate, you might as well just move in here, Mr Potter. It'll save you the walk, at least," she commented wryly, a small smile lining her lips. "How do you feel? Do you recall what happened?"
Pausing for a moment to drudge up his memories, Harry answered.
"I remember… I was hit by a bludger and was knocked off my broom."
"That's right. You fell approximately forty metres before your thestral friend saved you. It gave everyone quite a scare, especially those who cannot see thestrals. Incidentally, the majority of the students now think you're capable of flight without the aide of a broom even when unconscious."
Seeing Harry's quirked eyebrow, Madam Pomfrey chuckled.
"I overhead your visitors saying as much when they were in here earlier."
"How long have I been out?"
"Not that long considering what happened," the matron replied, waving her wand over him and casting a quick diagnostic spell. "The match only ended about two hours ago. You were brought in then. You had a total of three broken ribs and four fractured ones. I've healed them, but I will need to give you a potion later on. You'll need to you take it easy for a while too as I don't want you to put too much strain on them."
To her mild annoyance, Harry just waved away her concerns for his health and instead asked her who had won the Quidditch match.
"You really need to get your priorities straight, Mr Potter. Your health is much more important than sport. If I had my way, I wouldn't allow children to play such a brutal game. Do you know how many injuries I treat because of Quidditch accidents?"
"Ah, c'mon, Madam Pomfrey," Harry interjected. "This is the first match Gryffindor has played under my captaincy. Isn't it expected that I'd be eager to know how we did?"
"Fine. From what I heard, the score was 190-110 in Slytherin's favour before you and Mr Malfoy caught sight of the snitch. During your fall, the Slytherin chasers used the distraction to score 40 more points bringing their score up to 230."
"So we lost then" Harry deduced, his face crumpling at the thought.
"Open your hand, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey ordered softly.
Feeling slightly bewildered; Harry looked down at his closed fist. Uncurling his fingers, he gasped in shock as he saw the Snitch sitting securely in his palm.
"But… what… how...?" Harry began, wondering how in the world he had been holding onto it for so long without even realising it was in his hand.
"That there is a testament to just how much Quidditch seems to mean to you. Honestly, Mr Potter, you are the only person alive with the sheer, blind luck to unconsciously catch the snitch whilst you're busy plummeting to your death," Pomfrey rolled her eyes.
"So we won?" Harry queried, needing to hear the words.
"Yes, you won," the matron grinned.
Unable to speak for the joy he was feeling, Harry resorted to doing a crude imitation of a victory dance he had once seen Dean Thomas do upon hearing his football team had gotten into the finals. Madam Pomfrey couldn't bring herself to keep from laughing at the boy's antics. It was nice to know that after all he had been through there was still a bit of childishness and playfulness within him.
CLICK.
Harry blinked as a brief flash of light momentarily blinded his eyes. He groaned loudly as he turned and saw a grinning Neville holding a camera.
"Enjoying yourself, Harry?" Neville chuckled, walking towards Harry's bed, Luna trailing behind him. "Ooh, I'm so using this for blackmail purposes," Neville promised, causing Harry to bury his head in his hands in exasperation.
"It's not something to be laughed at, Neville," Luna chastised sternly, as she eyed the boy disapprovingly.
Startled by Luna's uncharacteristic seriousness, Neville's smile dropped from his face. Harry and Madam Pomfrey exchanged a bewildered glance before focusing their attention back on the girl who had by now turned to regard Harry with a gentle gaze.
"Harry," Luna voiced kindly almost tentatively, "if we've accidentally interrupted you're mating dance, just tell us and we'll leave so you can finish."
Luna's statement was, naturally, met with complete silence as Harry, Neville and Madam Pomfrey stared incredulously at the blond Ravenclaw. Several seconds later, the silence was rather dramatically broken by Neville falling to the floor and laughing his head off. This broke Harry and Madam Pomfrey out of their stupor, and red bloomed across their cheeks causing Neville to begin pounding the floor in his humour.
"Luna… I wasn't… what the hell, Luna?" Harry finally spluttered, his eyes wide in horror.
"Miss Lovegood, I assure you that Harry was not trying to court me! He was happy because Gryffindor won the Quidditch match. That is all!" the matron explained, trying desperately to keep her voice calm. She had only had a handful of encounters with Luna before, and consequently had no idea how to react to the strange Ravenclaw. It didn't reassure her in the slightest that neither Neville nor Harry seemed to know how to react either.
Upon seeing Luna's disbelieving countenance, Harry gave a swift kick to Neville in an effort to shut him up before forcing his mouth to speak.
"Luna, I… boys don't court girls like that. At least human boys don't. Male birds sometimes do dances and stuff to attract females, but human guys don't. Do you get that?"
Luna just tilted her head to the side, causing Harry and Madam Pomfrey to groan and Neville to laugh even harder.
"Mission complete," Neville snickered happily as they shut the door to the Hospital Wing and began to weave their ways amongst the corridors and passages, towards the Gryffindor Tower.
"I would appreciate it if you'd stop laughing," Harry stated tersely as he rubbed his temples. "You know, there were tons of other ways you could have gotten me out of there. You didn't have to resort to making me out as some sort of weird, sexual predator," the green-eyed teen directed at Luna.
"It worked, didn't it?" Neville commented. "And it had to be something really out there otherwise Madam Pomfrey would never have let you leave so soon. At least this way, you get to enjoy the party in the common room."
"Neville, I don't think you appreciate just how awkward it's going to be next time I have to see Pomfrey," was Harry's grumpy reply.
"Hey, we were told to bust you out of the Hospital Wing and we did. I'm not the one who actually came up with the plan. That was all Luna. She didn't even tell me what she had in mind. I was as surprised as you were," Neville responded, holding his hands up passively in front of him, as if surrendering.
"Well, Luna. Anything to say?" Harry asked, scuffing his feet along the ground in annoyance.
"What plan are you talking about?" Luna queried, cocking her head to the side, continuing to walk on even as the boys stopped.
"You don't think she was serious back there, do you?" Harry whispered covertly to Neville as he watched his blond friend walk away from them. "Do you think she honestly believes that I was courting Pomfrey?"
"I don't know," Neville replied, thoughtfully. "She's always been a bit of an odd one, so you never know…"
"Are you two coming or not?" Luna called over her shoulder.
After exchanging another glance with each other, Harry and Neville raced to catch up with their waiting friend.
"I didn't think you'd be so eager to go to the Gryffindor party," Neville told Luna when he'd finally caught up to her.
"Oh, I'm going purely for supply purposes," she admitted nonchalantly. Seeing their questioning looks, she continued. "I'm almost out of Butterbeer lids, so I'm going to resupply."
Accepting this as a just another quirk of Luna, neither of the boys chose to reply, but nodded to show their understanding.
"Mr Potter."
Not expecting their ex-Potions professor to suddenly appear from behind a nearby statue, Harry and Neville jumped a foot in the air and spun round to face the man. Luna, on the other hand, simply murmured a pleasant "Good evening, professor," and turned her pale gaze intently towards his left hand. Obviously unnerved by the girl's stare, Snape surreptitiously slid his hand into his robe pocket and out of sight.
"Did you need something, Professor?" Harry inquired, feeling somewhat nervous. He had been fortunate in that he had so far managed to avoid having to speak directly to the Head of Slytherin. It wasn't that he was scared of the man, it was more that he had no idea how he was supposed to act around the man any more. After all, he'd never been able to wrap his head around how Snape's mind worked, so he had no idea how the man might have taken Harry's healing his hand. Was the Professor going to be grateful, angry, bitter? Would he pretend that it hadn't happened at all? Hence, Harry had decided to play it safe and avoid the man altogether. It seemed his luck had finally run out, however.
"I would like to speak to you in private, Mr Potter," Snape silkily replied, his face devoid from any emotion. "Come with me."
"But Professor," Neville suddenly chipped in, "everyone's expecting Harry in the common room now."
Snape's intense gaze swept over and rested on Neville for a long moment. The slight raising of one eyebrow was the only indication to his surprise when Neville made no move to back down or appear submissive. Harry inwardly beamed as he watched the exchange. Neville had really come a long way from the bumbling boy who was terrified of Snape that he had been a few years ago, and Harry was thrilled to see that people had begun to take notice.
"It is still very early in the evening, Mr Longbottom," Snape enunciated softly. "I assure you that Mr Potter will still have plenty of time to frolic in the warm glow of everyone's affection after I finish my talk with him. Now go," he finished, his voice taking on a more imperative tone on the last word.
Still frowning, Neville took Luna's hand and began the trek to the Gryffindor Tower.
"I'll see you later, Harry. You too, Professor!" Luna called back cheerfully as she let herself be dragged around a corner. Snape involuntarily shuddered at her words before composing himself and turning to regard the Potter heir.
"This way, Mr Potter."
Due to his less than ideal upbringing, Harry had always been a bit on the short side much to his annoyance, so he practically had to jog to keep up with his Professor's swift footsteps. To his surprise, rather than leading him down to the dungeons, Snape instead took him through a secret passage behind a painting of some toadstools, and after a few more twists and turns eventually led him into a disused classroom in the Charms department.
Once there, Snape immediately pulled out his wand and began to cast an array of charms.
"Relax, Potter. I am simply warding the room so that no one can enter or eavesdrop," Snape explained when he saw Harry's look of unease.
"Oh, okay," the black haired boy replied, unable to think of anything better to say. He watched Snape intently as the man continued waving his wand, but immediately dropped his gaze when Snape finished and turned to face him.
"I have brought you here for three reasons, Potter," Snape stated succinctly. He stopped to steel himself for a moment before ploughing on. "Firstly, I don't know whether you're healing of my hand was deliberate or an accident, but I am grateful nonetheless."
"What?" Harry blinked confusedly, not expecting the man to actually express gratitude over the deed. Actually, the idea of Snape thanking anyone for anything seemed somewhat ludicrous in Harry's mind.
"I know I am not the kindest man in the world," Snape rolled his eyes, "but that doesn't mean that I am completely heartless. If someone earns my respect, then I will give them my respect. If someone earns my thanks, then I will thank them. It's as simple as that. Do not read too much into this though," Snape warned. "You have earned my thanks for doing this one deed, but that doesn't mean I necessarily respect you. Our relationship has not changed by much, Potter. So feel free to act like your usual foolhardy self."
"Well, I'm glad that I have your permission to do so," Harry remarked sarcastically. Inside though, Harry couldn't stop the wave of relief that swept through him. He hated not knowing how to act around the man. It was like walking on eggshells, and with everything else going on in his life, his nerves were rather taut already.
"The second reason," Snape cut in trying to pull the conversation back on track, "is about those feathers of yours."
Harry immediately tensed up, something he was prone to do whenever someone asked to speak about anything relating to his wings and the circumstances surrounding their appearance. He may have been able to speak about them to Luna and Neville, but he still felt rather defensive whenever the topic was broached.
"What about them?" Harry asked, his face closed.
"There's no need to raise your hackles, Potter," was Snape's insensitive response, causing Harry to flinch as the comment unconsciously invoked a mental image of his late Godfather. "All I wanted to ask was whether or not you were willing to let me have a few of your feathers for my own research."
Harry frowned, crossing his arms over his chest in a subconscious attempt to protect the feathers concealed within the mokeskin bag tucked away under his robes. He couldn't deny his utter revulsion at the thought of any part of him being used in some disgusting potion. The fleeting thought that in the future 'Harry Potter's feathers' could be a common ingredient used by students in Potions class was such an abhorrent concept for the boy that he knew he needed to nip the issue firmly in the bud before anything started.
"I'd rather not," Harry finally answered, trying to think of a way to politely decline without getting a detention or worse, a persistent professor chasing after him. He still had problems with Slughorn constantly bombarding him with invites to the Slug Club. He did not need another professor after him, and he doubted that Snape would be as willing to passively accept his constant refusals like Slughorn was.
"May I inquire as to why?" Snape demanded, his baritone voice becoming dangerously deep.
Knowing that the man would not accept his 'I don't want to be potions ingredients' excuse, he settled for another.
"No offence, Professor, but I don't really trust you." Holding up a hand to stop the man from responding, Harry continued. "Don't get me wrong. I'm know that you always try to do what you think is best in the scheme of things, but that doesn't mean I trust you with doing what's best for me. I've been doing by best to keep my wings a secret from everyone, because let's face it, the Daily Prophet would probably have a field day if they found out about them. So letting you, a well-known Potions Master, get your hands on some of them is probably not the wisest move for me to make."
"Yet giving some to Miss Lovegood is?" Snape questioned sardonically.
"As much as I hate the fact, most people see Luna as being a few twigs short of a broomstick. I seriously doubt that any one is going to question her on her research, and even if they did, Luna's subtle and clever enough to throw anyone off her trail without her even really having to try to."
"Fine. I will accept your answer. For now, at least," Snape trailed off, before turning to leave.
Debating with himself briefly, Harry let his curiosity get the better of him and, though unsure of whether or not this was actually a good idea or not, called after the retreating man, "What's the third reason why you wanted to speak to me, sir?"
Snape halted on the spot and without turning to face the teen, replied, "Please, for the love of Merlin, tell Lovegood to stop stalking me. Remind her that she is not allowed to enter my private chambers even if she somehow manages to learn what the password is, and that when I find out how she always knows my location, there will be hell to pay."
With that said, the man promptly left the room, the wards he had placed upon the room at the start of their talk vanishing with him.
"Huh," Harry breathed when he was sure the man was out of earshot. "That explains why she keeps asking to use the Map."
Sunday morning rolled around bright and cheerful much to the annoyance of the majority of the Gryffindors. The party to celebrate their winning the Quidditch match had continued on til the wee hours of the morning, and only really broke up when Professor McGonagall had stormed into the common room, looking surprising intimidating in her tartan-sleeping gown, and threatened them with a lifetime's worth of detentions. When one smart-arsed, seventh year had pointed out that McGonagall couldn't enforce such a policy once they graduated from the school, McGonagall had just smiled creepily and said, "Do you care to test that theory, Mr Crawley? Let me warn you that I have done it before and more than once. Mark my words, if you have outstanding detentions to serve upon your graduation, you will end up serving them. I have the means to make it happen."
Trying to save face, Crawley had scoffed at her words.
"Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks," McGonagall had casually listed whilst continuing to smile her creepy smile. "If you don't believe me, then why don't you ask them? They were not the only ones either…"
Seeing her charges sufficiently cowed, McGonagall had uttered a pleasant "Good night," and left the room. Needless to say, everyone had swiftly gone to bed after that.
Exhausted though he was, Harry couldn't keep the smile from his face as he forced himself to leave his cosy bed. Shoving his glasses onto his nose, Harry dragged his unwilling feet in the direction of the showers. The warm water felt wonderful on his skin, especially as he hadn't had a chance to shower the night before, so caught up he had been in the revelry. Even his earlier injuries and his conversation with Snape hadn't put a dampener on his mood. The outright joy and enthusiasm of his housemates at the party had only increased his own euphoria. Although in truth, they had only won because he had accidentally grabbed the Snitch during his free fall, he still couldn't have felt prouder of his team. As a rookie team, they had all performed marvellously in his eyes, and deserved to enjoy their success.
Feeling more awake now that he had showered, Harry chucked on his clothes and left his dormitory, leaving his room mates to enjoy their sleep in.
Since it was still only around seven, he wasn't the least bit surprised to find Hermione to be the lone Gryffindor at their table, nor was he surprised to see Luna sitting beside his bushy-haired, happily counting her newly obtained butterbeer lids.
"Good morning," he greeted, plonking down in the seat opposite them.
"Morning," Luna greeted, momentarily dragging her attention away from her counting. She did not look the least bit tired despite having attended the Gryffindor party and staying up so late. Ginny had been nice enough to let her sleep with her and her room mates in the girl's fifth year dormitory once the party had died down.
"Hey, Harry," Hermione smiled, after swallowing her bite of toast.
"You're here early," Harry commented. "Usually, you have breakfast a lot later than this."
"That's because I'm usually in the library or waiting for Ron and the others to come down," she replied, her eyes glittering excitedly.
Having known Hermione for so long, Harry instantly recognised her body language and knew that she was obviously waiting eagerly for something to happen. From experience though, he knew that she wouldn't explain herself until after whatever it was she wanted to happen occurred, so he just shrugged and pushed the observation to the back of his mind for the time being.
Harry was just about to help himself to a few rashers of bacon when he heard his and Luna's names being called. He turned to find several Ravenclaws beckoning them over. Accepting their unspoken invitation, Luna, who had swiftly packed away her butterbeer lids, and Harry both stood up and began to head towards them only to stop as they realised Hermione would be left alone.
"C'mon, Hermione, let's go join the Ravenclaws," Harry called over his shoulder.
Obviously unsure what was happening, Hermione quickly rose and followed them to the Ravenclaw table where upon Harry pulled her into the seat next to him.
"You don't mind if she joins us, do you?" he asked Mandy Brocklehurst, who was chairing the debates for this week.
"Fine with us," she replied pulling the bronze raven from her robe's pockets.
"What's going on?" Hermione queried, eying the little bronze bird nervously. At Mandy's command, the Raven sprang to life and began to circle her head.
"Every morning, a debate is held at the Ravenclaw table regarding a previously decided topic," Mandy explained concisely. "Anyone is allowed to participate in these debates as we like to give everyone the opportunity to share their point of view."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond only to find her voice gone. Seeing this, Mandy grinned.
"This is the Raven. It will fly to whoever it thinks has the best idea to share and allow that person to speak. Everyone else must remain silent. This way, it's fair for everyone."
As soon as Mandy had finished speaking, the Raven had flown over to Hermione, finally allowing her to speak.
"How come I've never heard about any of this before?" she asked, her brow creasing. "It's not even mentioned in Hogwarts: A History."
"The reason you've never heard of this before is that you Gryffindors always come to breakfast after our debates are already over, and since all the other houses know, no one feels the need to shout it from the roof tops," Anthony Goldstein chipped in from further down the table. "And in regards to Hogwarts: A History, let's just say that that book is not a really reliable source of information. There are a lot of things that aren't mentioned at all in that book."
Hermione appeared somewhat affronted after hearing that, but as the Raven had returned to circling around Mandy's head, she couldn't say anything to defend her favourite book.
"Okay, let's get back on track," Mandy commanded. "We can debate the merits and reliability of Hogwarts: A History in a future debate. For now, our topic is whether or not we should include basic Muggle subjects into the curriculum, and if so, what subjects would be most beneficial? Who wants to start?"
Harry smiled as he watched the discussion take place, choosing to listen this time rather than contribute. He and Neville had become common participants in these early morning debates, and Harry once more blessed his fortune in finding out about them. The Ravenclaw's willingness to let everyone have a go had done wonders to Neville's confidence, and based on the grades he had been receiving recently, Harry knew that he was benefiting from them as well. They were good for Luna too, as people would pay proper attention to what she said without mocking her or looking at her strangely.
Based on the exhilarated expression on her face, it looked as if Hermione had gone to heaven. Harry was glad that he had thought to include her in on the debate for he knew that there were only a few people in Gryffindor willing to, let alone capable of, holding an intellectual discussion with her.
As it was Sunday and there were no classes, which meant that most of the Gryffindors wouldn't be seen in public until lunchtime, the Ravenclaw debate continued on well beyond its usual ending time. In fact, there were only two interruptions to the debate throughout its entirety. The first was the arrival of Luna's edition of the Quibbler, which for some reason Harry couldn't fathom, caused Hermione to smile widely. The second was when Harry spotted Draco Malfoy leaving the hall, and promptly ran after the retreating blonde, without saying a word to his bewildered companions.
"Oi, Malfoy! Wait up," Harry yelled, rushing to catch up with the blonde Slytherin.
After seeing whom it was, Malfoy gestured to his friends, of which Harry could only recognise Blaise Zabini, to go on without him.
"What is it, Potter?" Malfoy asked when Harry had finally reached him.
"I just wanted to say thanks," Harry said quietly, unconsciously taking a leaf out of Snape's book. "You know… for trying to catch me yesterday."
"Did you honestly think I'd just let you plummet to your death?" the blonde queried, his pale eyebrows arching. Harry didn't respond, instead opting to shuffle his feet nervously.
Sighing, Malfoy raised a hand and rubbed at his temples as if trying to ward off a headache.
"Look, Potter," Malfoy began. "I know that you and I have never been really good friends and I doubt that we will ever be, but that doesn't mean I want you to die. Yes, I may have insulted you, hexed you and generally done things to piss you off in the past, but I've never actually tried to kill you, and I have neither the time nor inclination to begin now. Okay?"
"Yeah," Harry breathed, rather awed at this admission from his rival. "Thanks, Malfoy," he smiled, offering his hand.
Malfoy just stared at the offered limb for a moment, before slowly reaching out and shaking it. "Don't think this means we're friends though. I mean it, Potter. I reserve the right to annoy you whenever I want."
"Ditto," Harry agreed, before promptly putting this into effect by (gently) kicking the blonde in the shins.
"Damn it! I'm going to kill you, Potter!" Malfoy yelled after the fleeing Gryffindor.
His threat was simply met by boisterous laughter.
A/N: Well, there you go. This chapter's question is: what event/happening in the HP books (canon) were you most disappointed by?