The Prince-Who-Lived
Chapter Thirty-Five
Harry was similarly disappointed in Alan for striking at Draco, but he didn't say much to his face about it. It was Alan's choice, and it's not like Draco didn't deserve it. Harry just wished that Draco would stop playing up everyone else's expectations, rather than being his own person. Alan's irritation with him had little to do with it.
Harry's worries were also sidelined by the return of Hagrid. Upon Hermione noticing him being back, Harry immediately took a trip down, and Ron, out of concern, finally rejoined them to go and talk to him.
Harry was startled that Hagrid had been sent to the giants, but unsurprised that he had been asked. It was disquieting to have him still injured, but he knew whatever he was up to … Dumbledore wouldn't let him do anything too dangerous, would he?
Either way, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to talk much in the way of sense into Hagrid. It certainly hadn't worked anytime before. Come Tuesday, Harry was resigned to whatever Hagrid would bring. So long as he listened and obeyed Hagrid's rules, and let Hagrid do most of the contact, everything should be perfectly fine.
Should be.
Harry struggled through the snow with Hermione and Ron to Hagrid's hut on Tuesday and eyed the carcass Hagrid had with him warily. Several types of large animals were attracted to fresh meat, and Harry wouldn't run any of them past Hagrid to acquire. The Slytherins appeared similarly taken aback. Draco appeared frightened, and Harry sighed. If the idiot would only face the facts …
"We're working in here today!" Hagrid called, jerking his head towards the forest. "Bit more sheltered, and anyways, they prefer the dark."
Harry sighed and smiled. Whatever it was, he was looking forward to it.
"What prefers the dark?" Draco cried sharply, eyeing his bookends and staring fearfully into the forest. "What did he say prefers the dark? Did you hear?"
Harry shook his head once more. Draco hadn't liked the forest first year either.
"Ready?" Hagrid boomed. "I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studying today is pretty rare. I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em …"
"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" Malfoy panicked. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you've brought wild stuff to class, would it?"
Several members of the class murmured agreement, Slytherin and Gryffindor both. Alan studied his nails, and drawled,
"Malfoy, quit whimpering. It's your own stupidity that's gotten you attacked before so if you could just rein that in, you'd be fine. Honestly, in this case Hagrid is a bit more informed than you are."
Malfoy's face flushed with shame and anger, and he glared at Alan. Alan just smiled quietly without any real expression.
Hagrid, however, nodded. "Course they're trained. I said, I trained them myself and they haven't gotten out of hand ever." He hoisted the cow a higher on his shoulder.
"What happened to your face then?" Draco snapped.
"Mind yer own business." Hagrid growled. "Now if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me."
He turned and strode straight into the forest. Harry and Alan traded short looks across the gathered students, none of whom seemed interested in following him anytime soon, and shook their heads. Harry waved Hermione and Ron to follow him and walked forward, Alan walking confidently a few steps ahead. Blaise irritably slogged after him, followed by the rest of his coterie. Harry noted with amusement that Blaise shot him an irritated look before catching up with Alan – and distinctly standing to his right. Harry had to choke down a laugh.
It was ten minutes before Hagrid stopped deep in the forest, with the branches overhead keeping the ground clear, and the light down to that of twilight. Hagrid dropped the dead meat, and stepped back to watch the class approach, most of who were doing so most cautiously. Alan and Harry, and their friends were the only ones watching with easy curiosity, and were not overly concerned.
"Gather roun', gather roun'" Hagrid encouraged. "Now, they'll be attracted ter the smell o' the meat, but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me."
Hagrid shook his hair out and then gave an odd shrieking cry that echoed through the trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed; most of them were too scared to make a sound, and Blaise, the only person Harry thought might amongst their groups, looked curious and not scornful.
Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. The class began to shuffle restlessly, looking nervously around for whatever might be coming through the trees. Draco was pressed tightly against Crabbe and Goyle, looking around in fear. Hagrid shook his hair back to cry again, and Harry still saw nothing, but he heard a soft 'Oh,' from to his right, and he looked and found Alan staring into the trees, his mouth softening into a wry smile. Harry looked around and saw nothing. Puzzled he returned his attention to the centre, where Hagrid was standing looking pleased, and where the cow carcass was shuddering slightly. Startled, Harry eyed the ground, the carcass and froze.
Meat was being pulled and torn off on the far side. It ripped, and then disappeared. Disturbed, Harry stepped back a moment, completely puzzled.
"Why doesn't he call again?" Ron asked.
Harry knew; whatever it was, it was already here and Alan either noticed the torn meat before Harry did or … or he could see it.
"Ah, here comes another one!" Hagrid announced, pleased. "Now, put up your hands. Who can see 'em?"
Harry looked over and Alan negligently raised his hand, followed by Theodore who did so only reluctantly. Harry felt a suspicion form.
"Ah, yes." Hagrid nodded, satisfied.
"Excuse me," Draco sneered, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"
In answer, Hagrid pointed to the meat that Harry had already seen ripping away. It took a few moments before the rest of the class saw it, and Parvati squealed.
"What is it? What's eating it?"
"Thestrals." Hagrid announced proudly. Hermione squeaked in understanding and Harry smiled. Ron looked more closely at the space around the carcass, but Harry knew he'd see nothing. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows - ?"
"But they're really, really unlucky!" Interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. Harry rolled his eyes. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once – "
"No, no, no." Hagrid chuckled. "Tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren't unlucky, they're dead clever and useful." Alan snorted; Harry bit down a smile. "'Course, this lot don't get a lot of work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey and don't want ter apparate. An' here's another couple, look."
Harry sighed, wishing he could see the lesson object, and then stared when Alan walked over and gently stroked his hand down something only he could see. Parvati, across from him, squealed and backed away. Alan chuckled, as did Hagrid.
"I see ye know thestrals some, Alan." Hagrid commented.
"One of my teachers in Salem kept a few." Alan commented. "I've seen them since I was young, and his were a little bad-tempered – much like him. But they liked me well enough."
Hagrid nodded understandingly, and then asked, "Thestrals won't bite ye unless you really annoy 'em. Now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?"
Hermione raised her hand before anyone else. She was overflowing with enthusiasm, and Hagrid chuckled as he called on her.
"The only people who can see thestrals are people who have seen death."
"Exactly right!" Hagrid said. "Take ten points ter Gryffindor."
"Hem hem."
Harry stiffened, and saw Alan do the same. Blaise immediately turned to eye the source, and Harry glared irritably. She was dressed in green, accentuating her toad look, and smiling in her frustrating way at Hagrid. Harry stepped unconsciously away from her, and wished she would disappear. Hagrid, however, was eyeing the space near him, which Harry presumed was a thestral, possibly thinking it had made the strange little cough.
"Hem hem."
"Oh hello!" Hagrid beamed, locating the green toad.
"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" Umbridge asked in a loud, slow voice, as though addressing someone foreign and slow. She'd used it before on him, when she'd bearded him upon his return while Harry and his friends hid under the invisibility cloak. That had been most uncomfortable. "Telling you I would be inspecting your lesson?"
"Oh, yeah." Hagrid said brightly. "Glad you found the place all right! As you can see, or – well I dunno, can you? – We're doing thestrals today –"
"I'm sorry?" Umbridge asked loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"
Hagrid turned confused.
"Er, - thestrals." He said loudly. "Big, er, winged horses, you know?" He flapped his gigantic arms hopefully.
Madam Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and pursed her lips, muttering to herself as she made a note on her clipboard, "has …to … resort …to …crude …sign-language."
"Well, anyway," Hagrid turned back to the lesson, looking slightly flustered. "Erm … what was I saying?"
"Appears … to …have …bad …short-term …memory." Umbridge once again muttered loud enough for the class to hear while writing on her clipboard. Draco was looking like he'd been handed a present, but Hermione was giving a valiant impression of an angry McGonagall. Alan was watching Umbridge with a tight look Harry felt did not bode well for her.
"Oh, yeah." Hagrid threw an uneasy glance at Umbrage's clipboard, but ploughed on valiantly. "Yeah, I was gonna tell you how we got a herd. Yeah, so, we started off with a male and five females. This one," He patted the space above where Harry had first noticed the disappearing meat, "name o' Tenebrus. He's my special favourite, first one born in the forest –"
"Are you aware," Umbridge said loudly, interrupting him, "that the ministry has classified thestrals as 'dangerous'?"
Hagrid merely chuckled.
"Thestrals aren't dangerous! All righ', they might take a bite out of you if yeh really annoy them –"
"Shows … signs …of …pleasure …at …idea …of …violence …" Umbridge scribbled again upon her clipboard.
"No – come on!" Hagrid jolted. He was anxious now. "I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won't it? Thestrals have just got a bad reputation because o' the death thing. People used to think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?"
Umbridge looked up as she finished writing and didn't respond. She spoke, loudly and slowly once more, "Please continue teaching as usual. I'm going to walk," She mimed walking. Pansy and Draco were having fits of silent laughter. Harry feared the look on Tracey's face as she watched them, "among the students," she pointed at the children around the class, "and ask them questions." She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.
Hagrid was staring at her, clearly at a loss to see why she was acting like he didn't understand English. Alan spoke in an offhand to Blaise that everyone heard, "What did she get into since yesterday that fried her brain?"
Blaise returned quietly, "I don't know. She couldn't seem to hear Geoffrey half the time yesterday either. Maybe she got pranked again? Can't seem to help it, can she?"
"Isn't there a ward in St. Mungos for that? Permanent spell damage?" Alan mused quietly. Umbridge somehow didn't seem to notice their talking, but Draco and Pansy looked furious, and Hagrid watched them muse with a bit of relief.
Umbridge moved amongst the students and Harry saw Alan wave his right hand shortly. Harry shortly understood; Alan wore his wand in a wrist sheath, and thus could use it very effectively, and very discretely. They must have spelled her to not hear their little banter.
Hermione was fuming silently, but could do nothing as Umbridge moved over to speak to Pansy Parkinson; Alan's quip had only mildly assuaged her anger. Hagrid struggled back into his planned lesson.
"Erm, anyways … Thestrals." Hagrid said firmly. "Yeah, there's loads of good abou' them."
"Do you find," Umbridge asked in a ringing voice. "That you are able to understand Hagrid when he talks?"
Pansy pulled her anger at Alan in, and answered with a lilt of giggling to the words, "No, because … well, it sounds a lot … like grunting most of the time."
Umbridge scribbled onto her clipboard again. Hagrid struggled to ignore the answer Pansy had given. Blaise spoke up again, in the stage whisper, sounding worried, "I think the hearing difficulty is spreading, Alan." Somehow it seemed to help Hagrid. "Are you sure we won't catch it?" Alan's glare back said he was being ridiculous, but his eyes smiled.
"One really good thing about thestrals is that once yeh tame them, you'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' senses o' direction, jus' tell 'em where ye want ter go –"
"Assuming they can understand you, of course." Malfoy interjected loudly. Those around him fell into giggles, and Alan tossed in,
"That's not usually a problem. As creatures, language isn't much of a barrier, and thestrals have few ear problems." He wasn't even looking at Draco, instead simply studying his nails and stroking the invisible horse next to him like it was a dog.
Umbridge gave Alan a tight look and turned to address Theodore.
"Theodore Nott? You can see the thestrals, correct?" She asked sweetly.
Theodore eyed her with distaste, but quietly answered affirmatively.
"Whom did you see die?"
Theodore huffed. "I don't see how that's your business."
Umbridge bit back a retort, and smiled saccharinely again.
"And what do you think of them?" She waved negligently to the carcass, which was nearly nothing more than bone now.
"I think they're hideous," He sneered. Umbridge looked pleased for a moment, and then Theodore continued, "but then again, a lot of things are." Before she could react, he smiled warmly and added, "But, ugly or not, thestrals are indeed useful and highly intelligent. You can't deny that."
Umbridge straightened abruptly and turned back to Hagrid. "Well Hagrid." She'd returned to her loud, slow voice. Theodore mouthed something that couldn't have been polite behind her back. "I think I've got enough to be getting along with. You will receive," she mimed pulling something from the air, "the results of your inspection," she pointed at the clipboard, "in ten days time." She held up ten stubby little fingers, and then smiled, self-satisfied. She looked ever more like a toad then ever, and bustled out of their midst, leaving behind a grimly pleased Draco and Pansy, giggling madly. Alan watched her go with a gaze Harry never wanted aimed at his back.
"It's all right, Hagrid." Alan finally said. "I think she's got a bit of a mental problem, but nobody's ever had it checked out. She just doesn't hear things sometimes, so she's got this thing of compensating for it. How are the thestrals in their natural habitat? They seem different than the ones Amaranth trained, but I'm not sure why."
Alan's question seemed to relax Hagrid, and he moved back into the lesson with only a little unease, ignoring the furious looks Draco and Pansy wore in favour of answering the honest question about his animals.
IIII
December rolled in amidst snow and homework. Harry and Ron, who, while not speaking to them, still stayed nearby once more, were struggling to move through the copious assignments. Neville and Hermione, prefects, were hardly spending any time in menial pursuits. The amount of homework, while manageable, took up what time was not taken with prefect duties of supervising younger students and managing the castle. Neither complained too much; Harry suspected it was because most duties were done with both of them working together. He didn't usually dwell on that, though, as it tended to lead to that vague pain that had arisen with them becoming a couple. It appeared Ron had noticed the lost look on his face at one point, and had returned to being marginally friendlier to Harry than to Neville. Harry didn't argue the point.
Aside from their activities, Harry knew that Alan had taken up his own. Their library meetings had grown few, and neither was all that eager to devote another weekend to the Chamber. Harry had heard from Melanie and Ginny that they were joining them to study in the library most weeks, which told Harry where Alan's time had gone. Apparently Luna and him were also getting together. But Neville had passed several messages on from Blaise that told him that Alan missed him as much as he missed Alan.
Still, though, Harry looked forward to going home for Christmas once more. Despite the worries about his friends, he was more worried about his parents. The Sunday before term ended was tense and painful: Ten Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban. Neville hadn't spoken during the entire day. Among them had been the Lestranges, who Harry knew, had at one point targeted and tortured his family. While they were all aurors, and Lily an excellent duellist, worry would leave neither him nor Neville alone.
Honestly, Christmas would probably be a good break for all of them.
IIII
Sitting in the library and waiting for the week to end, Alan brushed his quill across Luna's hand once more, smiling tightly. Luna didn't seem to notice, but her long, flowing quill twitched sideways and the tip brushed across his nose where he'd been leaning down to try and read. Alan sneezed, and his friends around him laughed.
"Alan, you're more hopeless than Salvador." Lucille announced. She was currently sitting in the black boy's lap, her arm over his shoulders and her pale skin and hair looking dramatically out of place against his dark colouring.
"Am I?" Alan asked blandly. "Luna, am I hopeless?"
"No, you're actually a surprising blend of optimistic and pessimistic." She answered seriously. "You always insist that things could be worse, so be grateful they aren't."
Alan blinked, and then snorted again. He reached over to pull her against his side and leaned his forehead into her hair. "Luna, what am I going to do with you?"
"Hmmm, maybe be completely distracted to the point of losing your head?" She answered, but she sounded minutely breathless.
"But what a way to go." Salvador added. "Losing your head over a woman isn't the most painful thing I can imagine."
"That's cause you're thick, Salvador." Stephanie interjected. "And you're still not getting that answer right. Snape should have told you that rather than following the book, you need to stir it one more time anti-clockwise and it'll congeal several times faster."
Salvador leaned around Lucille to stare at the offending essay he was trying to finish and hissed. "Where do you pull this from?"
"I happen to remember things well. Correct it if you want to get a decent score. Snape doesn't like it when you don't remember what he tells you, especially if you're going for your NEWT."
"I'm only in the class because my mother insisted I take every main class I qualified for. Damn woman didn't even let me opt out of History, which is even more boring than the rest. I only passed the damn OWL because of Lucille giving me her notes." Salvador growled darkly as he quickly erased several lines of text and rewrote them in neatly, so much so that Alan couldn't tell he'd erased it before.
"How'd you do that?" Alan asked.
"Subtle writing changes. Make the letters minutely smaller and thinner, and it's almost indistinguishable so long as what you plan on writing in is nearly the same size as what you took out, hence the several lines of text rather than just the one that needed editing. You'll catch on once you have to do a few more of these essays."
"Huh." Alan quipped. "Well, I never redo my essays, so I guess I never bothered to figure it out."
"Do you do any editing?" Stephanie demanded.
Alan eyed her cautiously. "No, not really, just checking spelling on occasion …"
"Lemme see your essays." She ordered. Mutely Alan handed them over for her perusal. Luna leaned back against him and hummed an indeterminate tune. Alan let himself be distracted and ran his fingers through her hair, relaxing completely. He jumped shortly when Stephanie snorted and slapped the papers down.
"You smart people disgust me. You looked like you were asleep, Prince."
Alan began to argue, and then had to stop as he split into a yawn. Laughter passed over the table, and Ginny, sitting once more between Blaise and Melanie, stood.
"It is actually getting close to curfew. Me, Luna and Melanie should be back at our dorms."
A murmur of agreement found its way around the table, and everyone packed up, walking back down the halls to the Slytherin dorms. There, Salvador immediately took over the armchair once more, Lucille sitting cross-legged in front. Dillan curled up on the end of the couch, across from Stephanie as Blaise and Theodore took the other, arguing through the Transfiguration homework. Alan considered joining them to help, but he found himself yawning again and left to his room, slipping to bed early. He hadn't felt tired like this in a long time; he was beginning to get a headache as well, but then again, he did forget lunch earlier, and hadn't had much supper.
He slipped into sleep feeling like he was forgetting something important.
Alan fell from darkness into a scattered dream of no light, and sensation. Muscle bunched in a place it was not … everything was dark, beyond the lack of knowledge … something needed to be done, there were orders to follow, an overwhelming desire to pass that door, but something …
Alan bolted upright, and coughed, trying to get the taste of blood off his tongue. How the Hell had he managed to bite himself in his sleep? He thought he'd stopped doing that! He stumbled into the bathroom, and the lights came up, dim as they tended to be when it was the middle of the night. Alan scowled and they brightened to normal. Quickly, he checked his mouth, but found no blood, no soreness, nothing. But the taste still felt warm and tacky, he could feel it like it was his own fangs …
Alan froze, and then noticed something his sleep-addled mind hadn't picked up on yet, although how he'd missed it was beyond him. His right eye wasn't blind, but across the pupil was a faint outline of a scar, and the door to the shower was faintly blurry. That didn't happen unless he was weak, but he felt fine, perfect, completely uninjured. How was his eye acting up?
A dull throb dragged his attention back to his body, a headache arcing out from his eyes and back. Alan closed his eyes and tried to isolate it, but when he did so he swore at the ridiculous solution. His occlumency had been completely scattered. For the past three weeks, he'd been forgetting to reinforce it, distracted by school, homework, his friends, and Luna. The girl had told him he was losing his head, but he hadn't thought she'd meant this.
Logic said she probably hadn't meant anything beyond the pure words, but it was so stupid of him to have forgotten. It was ridiculous.
Alan glared at his reflection once more, and stared at the white, twisted tissue bisecting his pupil, wishing it would go away. Alan closed his eyes - and tasted blood and disappointment; the man had made it impossible, the meddlesome fool's dog …
Alan stepped back with a hiss, and stalked back for his dressing gown. He was unlikely to get more sleep, and … his movement paused. Someone had been bitten by Voldemort … or whatever Voldemort was working through right then, and likely they had been one of Dumbledore's men … his father had mentioned guard duty, and Alan hadn't seen him all day …
Alan tore out of the room as he hurriedly finished getting the dressing gown on, through the deserted common room and into the halls, to his father's rooms. Alan burst in, and went to his room. He was met with a flaring wandlight, and jolted back, feeling immense relief. His father was fine, and safe, but whoever had been there was not. He needed someone to save them, now. He couldn't let them die, not if he could help it.
"Alan, what in the blazes are you doing out of bed at this hour?"
"Dad, I messed up my Occlumency and got a dream. Someone got attacked by a –a servant, serpent of Voldemort's. I think it was whoever was on guard duty. Someone needs to go after them, or check on them. Something. Please?"
Severus watched him warily for a long moment, and then slipped back into his room, asking him to wait. It wasn't long before they were hurrying up to the upper floors, and the Headmaster's office. Severus got them in, and the babble hiding behind the doors halted.
"Ah, Professor Snape. What is it?" Dumbledore greeting as Severus ushered him in first.
"Alan's Occlumency has apparently suffered due to his distraction with school, but he tells me he strongly suspects that whomever is on guard duty has been attacked by some serpent of Voldemort's." Severus growled out. Alan winced; Severus had never been at his best at early hours of the morning, and waking him had not done his temper any favours.
Dumbledore shot Alan a worried look and then stared. Alan felt like cursing. His Occlumency was resisting his attempts to repair it, and apparently without it up at full power his glamour wasn't working right, and with it unconscious, he couldn't fix it. He couldn't see anything clearly beyond Dumbledore's chair, and so the Headmaster was getting a great look at the thin, knotted scar across his eye.
"Marked …" Dumbledore whispered. He turned away and Alan was grateful. As Dumbledore had looked at him, the taste of blood had returned to his mouth and his vision had wavered. Abruptly, the sensation cut off, and Alan staggered in his father's grasp. Severus looked down at him in concern, but Alan brushed it off as Dumbledore addressed the portraits.
"Everard, Dilys!" Two portraits woke, a sallow-faced black-haired man, and a witch with long silver ringlets. "You were listening?" He barely waited for the acknowledgement. "The man that is likely injured has red hair and glasses. Everard, raise the alarm and make sure the right people find him."
He waved them off, and they slipped out of their portraits, disappearing completely. Dumbledore turned back to Severus and Alan and waved at the space before his desk. Irritably, Severus conjured two simple wooden chairs, and both sat, Alan cautiously. He'd never liked Dumbledore …
"What, exactly, made you so sure of your vision, Alan?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"I woke up tasting blood." Alan answered baldly. "I immediately went to the bathroom to check. My nightmares haven't been pleasant, and I have several times bitten my cheek or tongue while sleeping, but I found no injury. The taste was overwhelming. The small threads of the dream kept wandering through my mind, seemingly out of place and certainly out of context. I got concerned and remembering the guard duty Severus had mentioned, I went to go check on him. When he was fine, I knew it must've been someone else, and you should be informed to go help them."
"Have you ever had any other visions?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, but Geoffrey was certain they were possible. Koreol as well." Alan returned. "That's why he had me learn Occlumency. I don't doubt them. If I'm wrong, then perhaps one of your birds will be in trouble for no reason, but if I'm not wrong, I don't want this on my conscience."
"A wise choice." Dumbledore nodded slowly and gave Alan a cautious smile. "Thank you for coming to me with this."
"Dumbledore!" The dark-haired wizard had returned. Dumbledore turned away to check with him, and Alan awkwardly leaned against Severus, wanting security. Severus was stiff for a long moment before he raised his arm to allow Alan to lean against his side.
"I yelled until someone came running." The portrait continued. "Said I'd heard something dodgy downstairs. They didn't know what to believe, but went to check anyways. Came back up with him a few minutes later, covered in blood he was. I ran to Elfrida Clagg's portrait to get a good view as he left …"
"Well done. Dilys will have seen him arrive, then."
Sure enough, a few minutes later the silver-haired witch returned and slumped into her armchair. "He's in St. Mungos, Dumbledore. They carried him past my portrait. He looks bad …"
Alan felt his stomach tighten, but forced himself to relax. He'd done all he could. They'd either save him, or they wouldn't. It was out of his hands, and he was feeling tired again. Dumbledore apparently noticed and smiled warmly.
"I think everything is taken care of that you can help with, Alan. Thank you for bringing this to me." He sounded strangely relieved, as though the action meant more than itself. "I believe it would be best for you to return to sleep, if you can. Good night, to both of you."
Severus nodded carefully and jostled Alan into sitting up. Alan indignantly thought that he hadn't fallen that asleep on him, and stood, rubbing his eyes.
"What of the Weasley children, Dumbledore?" Severus asked curtly. "Will you inform them?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I will be sending Fawkes to Mrs. Weasley right after you leave, and will leave it to her to inform her children. Madam Umbridge is keeping a watch on the communication to and from the school, so it is best if there is no hint of Alan receiving visions …" He sent a stare at Alan's face once more, and Alan fought the desire to swear. He needed to get his Occlumency back up.
Severus nodded, and took Alan's shoulder to lead him out, walking briskly downstairs to his office once more, asking only one question, "Will you wish to remain in my quarters tonight, Alan?"
Alan's only answer was a tired nod. He hoped like Hell he wasn't going to get another vision. The last one was useful. He did not want to live through Voldemort getting pissed off and torturing someone.
He fell asleep as soon as he reached his rooms in Severus' quarters. Blessedly, he did not dream again.
IIII
Everyone else woke oblivious to the concerns of the night before. Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione were enjoying a strained camaraderie at breakfast, alongside Ginny, Melanie and Nanna. It was the twins who got the letter, and became quickly solemn, darting worried glances at the Head Table until breakfast finished, and the teachers – and Dumbledore – left. They immediately stood and walked up behind Harry and Ron.
"Ron, you need to come with us. Something happened last night, and we need to go see Dumbledore. Ginny, c'mon." Fred asked quietly.
A look at his face and neither Ron nor Ginny argued, paling quickly and abandoning their breakfasts. Harry and Neville exchanged worried looks.
"You've heard nothing?" Neville asked.
"Not a thing." Harry returned, watching the Weasleys leave. "But apparently something happened, to get Fred and George that solemn. I hope …"
"It can't have been too bad." Neville rationalized. "They didn't look like someone died."
"It must've come damn close." Harry growled. Reflexively, Harry looked across the hall at the Slytherin table, but it was mostly empty now, the students dispersing to their own agendas. Harry licked his lips and stood. "I'm heading off."
Neville merely nodded, and returned to picking at the remnants of his food, unheeding of Hermione's worried looks. He'd not been the most social since the mass escape earlier that week, and Hermione was bearing the brunt of it. She managed well, though, and Harry felt appreciative of her patience – and a bit vindicated. Neville was ignoring her much as he had ignored Harry in the weeks previous and, interestingly enough, Neville had begun to work with Harry more often as well, drifting back to his 'brother'.
His walking took him to the library, and to the far corner he'd run into Alan in years previous. It was empty at the moment, and Harry was too restless to sit. He browsed the books, running through each quickly and inefficiently, before someone stepped up beside him. Harry looked over, and smiled weakly at Alan.
"Why do you always seem to find me when I'm here?"
"Blaise noticed you come in while he was looking for a book for homework. We've taken to sitting at the table a few rows over. When he saw you heading back here, he came back and slid me a note. I thought you'd probably want to know what had happened with the Weasleys, anyways."
Harry closed the book he held and turned to Alan. "How do you know what happened?"
"To quote Geoffrey, 'nothing destroys Occlumency shields better than teenaged hormones.'" Alan laughed bitterly. "Between my friends, homework, and Luna, my shields degraded and last night I got to see that Koreol was right in saying that without defences, I would get visions. I got one, disjointed, and woke up tasting blood without having bitten myself. I told Severus, who told Dumbledore, who sent someone to get Arthur before he could bleed to death. Chances are, the Weasleys just got a letter from their mother about it. It'll leave less for Umbridge to question, if they hear it from a letter."
Harry was silent for a long moment, digesting it. "I gather your shields are better now?"
Alan snorted. "They have to be. If they're not up, my glamour falls. I happen to be rather fond of binocular vision, thank you."
Harry laughed quietly. Trust Alan to find the humour.
"Thank you."
"It was an accident." Alan said dismissively. "I had just as much chance to see him torturing someone as save someone's life."
"Still." Harry looked up at Alan firmly. "Thank you."
"Ron's been an ass for the past few weeks. Why are you so grateful?"
"Because, just because my friend is growing up is no reason to be irritated with him."
Alan snorted. "Optimist."
"Sarcastic." Harry returned.
Alan smiled ironically. "And would you like to join us for studying? Neville's welcome to come as well. I'm sure Blaise would love to start debating answers with your brother and his belle."
Harry flinched, and Alan shook his head before walking away. It was a long moment of consideration before Harry caved. He wanted to tell his father off … but his memories of second year vividly invaded his mind, of fear and rejection … any good mood he had was gone as he angrily left the library, alone and without stopping.
Harry sulked for most of the rest of the day, returning to his room and double-checking that everything was packed before he sat down and read, not responding with much more than a grunt when Neville came in. Fortunately, Neville wore the temper easily and simply told him that the Weasleys had left school already and that as far as he knew everything was going to be fine. Harry couldn't even find it in him to tell him what Alan had said.
The next morning was a mess of leaving by the train, and Harry would have told Neville Alan's news save for the prefect duties and Melanie and Nanna joining them in the compartment, missing Ginny. Luna came in as well, and, immediately upon seeing Harry, she smiled idly and commented in her airy voice,
"You really need to get over yourself, you know. Putting it off won't hurt for now, but soon enough there won't be any excuses."
Harry looked up at her in surprise and felt his face tighten. "Luna, how does Alan put up with you?"
Luna's smile widened. "He just listens and answers and moves on with or without paying any attention at all. He knows himself well enough to ignore me if he so desires."
Harry huffed. "I suppose that's fair enough."
Luna settled down easily and engaged Melanie and Nanna in a game of exploding snap as they road the train to the end. Susan dropped by, but quailed at the sight of Nanna, only managing a weak, "Happy Christmas" before she fled, blushing. Neville and Hermione were in and out, and Harry was surprised when Dillan, whom he knew only passingly as Alan's friend, stuck his head in to check on the girls with a short, irritable glare for Harry. Between it all, Harry was glad to get to the station, where he quickly hauled his luggage out to his parents. He was not pleased to hear that they would be stopping off at Headquarters for the first few days.
"Why are we going there? We have enough wards on our house to be fine; it held up during the last war!" Harry whined. He was tired, angry with himself and his father, and feeling betrayed by Alan. He did not want to deal with all of this!
"Harry, we need to make sure everything is in order, and check in with everyone else. You will stop whining this instant; you're fifteen years old not five!" Lily scolded. Harry sullenly shut up, staring angrily at the ground in front of him. "We're picking up Neville and Melanie for Alice and Frank as well, so hop to it. And I will not hear a word of complaint for when Prince tags along; his guardians couldn't spare time to pick him up."
Harry felt himself struggling to control his desire to react, even as he felt hopelessly confused about what to feel for it. He was happy to be with Alan, but confused and stressed about how to act with his refusal hanging between them.
Neville came over with a small smile, and then paused when he saw Alan come over as well. Alan spared both of them a short glance, and turned to smile at Lily. "Thank you for picking me up, Mrs. Potter. Good evening, Melanie."
Melanie twitched slightly, and murmured a greeting in turn before hiding behind Neville. She must feel awkward being the only one openly friends with him. Harry wondered how Alan felt in the reverse, only able to openly address one out of three. Lily sighed as she ushered all of them out of the station and to the cars that would take them to Grimmauld. It was a short trip.
It was an unexpected welcome when they arrived.
Lily rang the doorbell and Harry jumped as noise rebounded within for long moments before the door opened. Harry had the wild thought that Mrs. Black's portrait was still in there, but he knew it wasn't. His mother didn't look concerned, so what, then, was causing all that noise?
A/N: Beginning of Christmas, and the trip to the next half of fifth year where everything will happen. Or go to Hell, depending on your POV. Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, and favourited; I hope you enjoy it! Two weeks, then. grins Although next week will be another short of things happening previous to the story time - Salem, in fact, for those who are curious. See you all! Thank you for reading!
Fire & Napalm