Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except, of course, my darling Tristan.
Harry Potter and the Dream Come True
Chapter Thirty Seven – Tell all
All too soon it was time to return to Hogwarts, and Harry was nearing a complete mental breakdown. This was mainly due to the fact that Sirius and James had disappeared the morning of their departure, and he couldn't find them after three hours of frantic searching.
"Missy, you have to tell me where they went!" Harry pleaded, but the house elf wouldn't say a word on the subject.
"Master James said Missy shouldn't tell anyone anything," she repeated stubbornly.
"I'm his son!" Harry cried in exasperation.
"Is you really, Harry Potter, sir?" Missy replied existentially.
Harry groaned. "Never mind. Look, I'm going to fly to King's Cross without them. If they happen to turn up, you tell them where I went, alright? Oh, and see to it that my belongings get to Hogwarts, please."
Missy clapped a tiny fist to her chest. "Missy will see it done, Master-who-is-not-Harry-Potter."
"Er… you do that," Harry muttered. He was actually rather elated by this turn of events – he would have been forced to take that god-forsaken convertible had his guardians been here, but since they weren't, it would give him the perfect opportunity to practice flying in Animagus form.
Not bothering to pack away his belongings – that was Missy's job, and she'd attack him before letting him do the work for her – Harry ascended the spiral staircase in the entrance hall, climbing tirelessly up the seven stories until he emerged on the wind-swept roof.
Fixing the image of the peregrine falcon firmly in his mind, Harry made the images of the falcon and himself merge, and suddenly he was a tenth of his previous size, complete with wings, feathers, and piercing gold eyes. Lookin' good, he snickered to himself. God, I sound like Sirius.
Launching off the roof of the manor, Harry spread his wings, and within moments was caught in a gentle updraft. Riding the thermal up into the sky, he was soon soaring among the clouds, looking down on the toy-sized manor and grounds.
Floating above the miniature landscape below, not a thing in sight but the fluffy clouds and cerulean sky stretching endlessly above, Harry realized that this was the essence of tranquility – he was at complete and utter peace with himself and everything around him. It was even better than flying on his Firebolt. And to think he hadn't believed such a travesty possible.
.:I see you are finally broadening your horizons:. Decimare commented. .:And to think that it only took completing an illegal transformation that only the greatest of wizards can master:.
Harry squawked in alarm and almost fell out of the sky. 'Bloody hell, Decimare! Where did you come from?"
Decimare hissed in amusement. .:And your stupidity takes another astonishingly large leap. You never fail to surprise me with your idiocy, master:.
'I'm a bird, for God's sake, Decimare,' Harry snapped. 'How are you still here with me? If you're in your ring form, you should have fallen off during the transformation!'
.:And yet when you completed the transformation the first time, I was still present at all times. Isn't that something:.
'Don't tell me,' Harry groaned. 'You somehow shift forms when I transform, right?'
.:I am currently a rather attractive bracelet around your left foot:. the snake agreed. .:And well done for figuring it out so quickly. I'd expected you to take at least another week and a half:.
'Bully for me,' Harry sighed. 'Look, did you want something, or are you just trying to annoy me?'
.:If you call perfecting your debating skills and honing your wit an annoyance, then yes, I am trying to annoy you:.
'How do you do that?' Harry demanded. 'Making me feel like I insulted you, when it's always the other way around?'
.:I'm an evil snake spirit trapped in a black sword, forged by the darkest wizard in magical history:. Decimare hissed. .:You figure it out:.
'I don't think you're all bad,' Harry commented idly. 'You can be downright helpful at times.'
.:Only when it serves my plan for global domination:. Decimare returned. .:Concentrate on your flying, master, you're about to hit that mountain:.
Harry squawked in horror and stared around furiously for the supposed mountain. There wasn't one in sight.
Decimare hissed in amusement. .:We're in England, master, there aren't any mountains at this altitude:.
Harry scowled. 'If you don't shut up soon, I'm going to find a mountain, just so I can fly us into it.'
Decimare shut up.
The train ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful in the extreme. Draco Malfoy seemed to be cooped up in his cabin and, miraculously, not looking for a fight, the Weasley twins were MIA, and Sirius and James were of course nowhere to be found.
It was actually peaceful for once. Too peaceful.
Sure enough, Harry's extraordinary bad luck reared it's ugly head halfway through the train ride, in the form of an anonymous owl flying in through the window and dropping a piece of parchment on Harry's lap.
"What is it?" Ginny asked as Harry curiously slit open the letter.
Harry,
Things are well on my end. Not much to report, except that they are close on my tail, and I need to keep moving. Try to find a secure location for another meeting. I'll write again shortly.
PP
PS: Go to that place we went to once. It should be helpful to you.
Harry relaxed. It seemed that Peter Pettigrew really could be trusted. Who'd have thought that his parent's best-friend-turned-traitor would actually switch sides so late in the game? It almost gave him hope that everything would turn out for the best.
"Who's PP?" Ginny asked curiously.
Almost.
"It's a… er…"
"Who's chasing this bloke?" Ron demanded. "This doesn't sound like anything good, mate."
"Ha ha!" Harry hastily laughed. "It's just a joke between… uh… my cousin and I."
"You mean Dudley?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Harry, you hate Dudley."
"Yes, well… we made up over the summer," Harry lied. "He's finally broken from his parent's prejudiced ideology."
"Harry, that's wonderful!" Ginny squealed. "So he's writing to you now? That's so great for you!"
"Er… yeah, it is," Harry muttered.
Hermione wasn't convinced. "And he feels the need to write to you in code because…?"
Harry forced a laugh. "That's so in case his parents find the letters, they won't realize who he's actually talking to."
Ginny and Ron nodded. Hermione frowned. Harry decided he needed to leave. Immediately.
"I've got to… er… use the lavatory," he announced. "I'll be back in a second."
"There's something strange about that boy," Hermione declared the instant he was out of the compartment.
Images of sleepless nights spent clashing swords in the Chamber of Secrets flashed across Ginny's mind. "That's ridiculous," she muttered. "There's nothing wrong with him."
"I never said there was," Hermione sniffed. "I just said he's acting strangely. That's all."
Ginny sighed. Harry had better tell Hermione and Ron soon about his secret little fighting club, because Hermione's about to figure it out. He'll lose more than their trust, he'll lose their friendship. And what with him keeping this secret for so many months, I'm inclined to be on their side.
"It's good to be back," Harry sighed, in a state of near-bliss as he lounged on his favorite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, girlfriend snuggled up on his lap, mug of steaming hot cocoa in hand, and fire crackling merrily in the background.
A sharp rat-tat-tat shattered the peaceful calm. Ginny woke from her daze with a groan, almost falling off the chair as Harry shifted in agitation. "Harry?"
"That almost sounded like…" Harry trailed off. Machine guns at Hogwarts? The idea was absurd. "Never mind."
Ginny scowled. "Well, whatever that was, it woke me from a very nice nap. Let's go find out who caused it." The scowling redhead rolled off her boyfriend, scrambled upright, and drew her wand with a flourish. Harry hurried to his feet as his girlfriend stormed towards the portrait hole.
"And what?" Harry demanded as the portrait slowly swung open. "Tell them off for making noise? It's not even eight o'clock, Gin, they're allowed to be as loud as they like."
"I'll kill them," was the girl's reply. "That way, they'll think twice before trying it again, won't they?"
"I'm not sure that's such a… whoa! Calm down and let's think this through, Gin!" The youngest Weasley was so infuriated that she'd nearly gone sprawling head over heels while trying to scramble through the portrait hole. Only Harry's quick thinking, and even quicker arms, had prevented the girl from tumbling to the floor.
"My savior," she snorted. "But that's not going to save whatever idiot's making noise at this hour of the night." Shaking his head, Harry settled for scurrying along behind the irate redhead, ready to catch the girl if she fell again in her haste, and desperately trying to think of a way to call her off the hunt.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat
The couple rounded the corridor where the noise seemed to be coming from, wands held in readiness – Ginny to stun whatever person dared produce such an obnoxious noise, and Harry to stun his girlfriend before she committed murder.
"Uh… hi…"
An incredibly caught-in-the-act Sirius Black stammered the greeting, while at the same time pounding his fist rather loudly on the wall. James appeared a split-second later, an innocent expression on his face, and shoved some sort of large, metallic object out of sight the instant he recognized Harry and Ginny.
"Harry! Ginny! What a surprise!" He didn't sound at all pleased, although Harry suspected the irritation in his voice was directed towards Sirius, who was wincing and rubbing his neck in embarrassment.
"They snuck up on me," Sirius muttered. "How was I supposed to see the kid when he was in his damned invisibility cloak?"
James smacked his friend upside the head. "Padfoot, you idiot, we borrowed the cloak from Harry this morning. You weren't keeping watch at all, were you?"
Sirius whined pathetically. "Come on, Prongs, keeping watch is so boring!"
"And yet it needs to be done," James snapped. "I offered to keep watch, and you could do the actual work, but no, Sirius Black turns out to be deathly afraid of machine guns!"
"They're loud," Sirius protested.
"They're supposed to be," James hissed. "And another thing! You can't just leave… er…"
"Do go on," Harry invited. "What did Sirius leave? And where were you two this morning?"
"Is it just me, or have we completely lost our edge?" Sirius sighed.
"Course not," James huffed. "He's the next generation of the Marauders. We can't help but let our guard down around him – it's in the rulebook."
"There's a rulebook?" Harry demanded.
"You saw nothing," Sirius whispered, waving his arms in what he apparently thought was a spooky manner. "You heard nothing, and as soon as you leave this corridor, you will forget that anything ever happened."
"I don't think so!" Ginny snarled. "Your stupid machine gun woke me up from a very peaceful slumber!"
An expression of complete confusion flashed across Sirius's face. "Machine gun? What machine gun?"
An angry flush spread up Ginny's alabaster cheeks. "The one Mr. Potter just hid away – the one he said you're deathly afraid of! The one that you're apparently trying to keep secret, in which case you should really cast a silencing charm on it before firing it off right beside the bloody Gryffindor common room!"
"Padfoot…" James growled dangerously.
"Hey, that was your job, mate," Sirius protested. "After I forgot last time, you said I'm not allowed within ten feet of a silencing charm."
"Last time?" Harry asked curiously.
"The machine guns," Ginny snapped, not to be deterred.
"What machine guns?" James and Sirius chorused.
Harry sighed. "Gin, forget it. Come on; let's go back to the common room. I'll even give you some of that butterbeer I was saving up for a rainy day. We're not getting anything out of these clowns."
"Hey, these clowns happen to be your legal guardians!" James objected. "Show some respect, young man!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Look, just try to remember the silencing charm next time, and for God's sake don't kill yourselves in whatever fool experiment you're up to now."
"Check!"
"Check check!"
"Check check check!"
"Let's go," Ginny moaned. "I'd like that butterbeer right about now."
"Done!" James sighed happily, collapsing onto his feather bed with a moan of relief. "It took us eleven hours, twenty seven espressos, six hundred screws, and my son's complete loss of respect for us, but Operation Foefire is finally complete!"
"I still say we should have called it Operation Boom," Sirius grumbled.
"I wanted to call it that," James reminded him.
"What, so now we aren't the same person?" Sirius demanded. "Perish the thought!"
"Shaddup, Padfoot," the bespectacled man replied amicably. "At least we're done. No more sneaking around after hours worrying over being caught installing deadly devices into a children's school."
"That wouldn't have looked good on our permanent record," Sirius noted.
"Again, we are not the same person," James replied tiredly.
"You know, it doesn't have to be that way…"
"Sirius! Are you proposing to me?" James demanded, scandalized.
"Is it so strange to consider?" Sirius asked softly. "Two men, haunted by their pasts, scarred by their deeds, living together in a world fraught with danger and heartache…"
"I never thought of it like that," James whispered. "Until now, it never struck me how much we had in common. Oh, Padfoot, I will! I will marry you!"
"The only question now is," Sirius grinned wickedly, "who's going to be the wife? You'd look awfully cute in a miniskirt."
Twin gasps of horror resounded through the cozy bedroom. Unable to contain himself any longer, James doubled over in laughter and fell to the floor, tears of mirth streaming from his dark eyes.
"You two can come out now," Sirius snickered. "Joke's over."
A pair of disgruntled Weasley twins clambered through the window into the room, both steadfastly avoiding looking at the older Marauders.
"Very funny," Fred grumbled. "I think I just got my first grey hair thanks to you prats."
"So when's the wedding?" George asked brightly. "I bet you're looking forward to the wedding night in particular. I can just picture the pair of you, all hot and sweaty, rolling around on a giant feather mattress…"
Any and all laughter abruptly cut off as James switched from hysterical chortling to horrified gasping and choking. Sirius turned an interesting shade of puce and staggered back a few steps to collapse on the bed.
"Nice one," Fred grinned, exchanging a high five with his beaming twin.
"You were my source of inspiration," George replied modestly.
Fred blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
George affected an angelic expression. "Oh, nothing. But after last night, I thought you'd be ready to take the next step and come out of the closet."
"Last night?" James choked. "What the hell is going on here?"
Fred gave him a confused look. "You should know – you were there, after all, Mister Fluffy Pants."
Sirius gave a pained moan.
James couldn't handle it anymore. What had started out a game had turned into… he fainted to the floor.
Fred and George smirked. No one made a fool of the Weasley twins without paying the price.
Moments later Sirius propped himself up and asked salaciously: "So which one of you was on top?"
The twins decided to join James in unconsciousness.
The first day of classes following Christmas break finally rolled around, and Harry couldn't have been happier. This was mainly due to the fact that he had Defense Against the Dark Arts first off, which promised a whole world of amusement for the bespectacled boy.
"You're looking unusually cheery for a boy about to go endure two hours of Dolores Umbridge," Hermione noted suspiciously. Harry had the feeling that his best friend had finally decided to figure out just what was going on with him.
"You're off your rocker, Hermione," Ron sniggered. The bushy haired witch leveled a pointed glare at her friend's head. "Er… I meant that… oh, come on now, you know I didn't mean it like that!" he protested. "It's the first day back! Do you really think Harry's dad would leave us to Umbridge's mercy right after Christmas holidays?"
"Well, I suppose not…" Hermione trailed off. "It's not that I don't eagerly anticipate seeing Dolores Umbridge humiliated, Ronald, I just don't approve of Sirius and Mr. Potter disrespecting a professor like that!"
"She's not a teacher, if that makes you feel any better," Ron offered. "No real Hogwarts professor would be caught dead wearing fluorescent pink."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Fred said airily as he and George walked past the trio. "I've heard that Snape is all about the pink this term."
"Which I'll interpret as you dyed either his hair or robes pink, and are now dropping terribly unsubtle hints as a type of foreshadowing for the laugh we will no doubt experience upon seeing the good Potions master in fuchsia," Hermione concluded.
Fred and George were crestfallen. "How did you guess?" George moaned. "Now the joke is ruined."
"Let's go undo it before anyone sees," Fred agreed, doing an about-face. "Can't have our pranks being that predictable. It's a stain on the Marauder name." They marched off in unison, arms swinging morosely at their sides.
"I swear those two get stranger every day," Hermione sighed. "Come on, class is starting in a moment."
They hurried into the classroom and took their seats, pretending not to notice as they felt something invisible brush past them as they entered. "Told you they wouldn't let us down," Ron grinned smugly.
"Oh, put a sock in it," Hermione huffed.
Professor Umbridge waddled up to the front of the room in all her frilly glory, dull eyes gazing out over her assembled students. Tapping her short wand on the blackboard, instructions for the day's lesson appeared on its inky surface.
.:I do believe she's outdone herself on this one:. Decimare hissed. .:This is truly a unique assignment. I could almost grow to like this woman:.
'You don't grow,' Harry snapped. 'You're an inanimate object. And be quiet – I'm trying to figure out how this could possibly help us in defending against dark wizards.'
"This is barmy," Ron muttered to Harry. "Even for her, this is a stretch."
The blackboard read:
Today's Assignment
Dark wizards, while known for cursing first and asking questions later, have been known to let their victims go free if faced with docility and passiveness. Thus today's lesson will teach the students how to present themselves as non-threatening targets. Follow the instructions below to maintain the aura of calm necessary to lull a practitioner of the Dark Arts into complacency:
1) Blink as infrequently as possible
2) Exhale through the nose, inhale through the mouth
3) Let arms dangle loosely from sides
If the Dark wizard continues his aggression, fall to the ground and maim unconsciousness.
"Blink as infrequently as possible?" Hermione demanded in righteous indignation. "If a Death Eater chooses to kill you, he's going to kill you, no matter how infrequently you breathe!"
"I suppose it makes sense if you're an innocent bystander," Ron hypothesized.
"Falling to the ground and maiming unconsciousness will not stop a Death Eater from killing you," Harry protested. "As a matter of fact, he'll think you're a coward, and probably Crucio you or something!"
"Children!" Umbridge trilled as she scuttled over. "This exercise calls for complete silence!"
"Professor Umbridge-"
"Hand, Mister Potter!" Umbridge snapped.
Harry rolled his eyes and fell silent. Twenty minutes passed in absolute silence, broken only by Umbridge's occasional rebuke of "You aren't blinking infrequently, Mister Finnigan!"
Salvation came in the form of Sirius and James, who had, after surveying the situation in their invisibility cloaks, contemplated various methods of disrupting the class, until finally deciding to fall back on an old favorite.
With fifteen minutes to go, the school's alarm suddenly blared into existence, disrupting beautifully the silence Umbridge had been working so hard to maintain.
"Attention Hogwarts!" Sirius's voice bellowed over the magical loudspeakers. "This is an Evacuation Exercise! All personnel are to proceed to the Black Lake immediately, no matter what pointless class they happen to be in at the moment-"
There was a brief sound of struggling as James wrested the microphone from Sirius. "That is to say, Hogwarts, just run through the drill like we usually do." His voice dropped. "Even if we weren't doing these damn drills just to drive Umbridge out of her mind, they're still excellent practice for when the real attack comes."
"Potter!" Umbridge bellowed, so loudly that the Auror actually heard her from wherever he was hiding.
"Let's get going, folks," Sirius concluded.
There was really nothing Umbridge could do but let the students go. For the hundredth time that year. It wasn't like Dumbledore was going to put a stop to Sirius and James's fire drills – he disliked Umbridge just as much as the rest of the school.
The trio strolled down to the lakeside with the rest of the school, claiming a spot near the squid's favorite haunt, which ensured there wouldn't be any eavesdroppers on their conversation.
"Harry, I want to know what's going on," Hermione announced. "I want to know where you go at night, what you've been doing with Sirius and Mr. Potter for hours in the afternoons, who really wrote to you on the train, and why Ginny seems to be more in the loop than Ron and I are."
'So this is how I'm going to die,' Harry thought mournfully. 'Strangled to death by my best friends for lying to them for half a year.'
.:Don't be melodramatic:. Decimare snapped. .:I'm more likely to kill you than they are:.
'And that suddenly makes me feel so much better,' he sighed.
Ron was starting to turn red. "Why won't you tell us what's going on? You're our best friend! And I thought we were yours!"
"You are!" Harry exclaimed. "It's just… I wasn't really… that is to say…"
.:Oh, just tell them:. Decimare sighed. .:You've been destroying their trust in you for long enough:.
'You have such a way with words,' Harry muttered. He took a deep breath.
"Alright. Here goes. Most nights I go down to the Chamber of Secrets, where I practice the art of sword-fighting with my possessed sword Decimare, which I stole from the Potter vault this summer. Sirius and my father have been teaching me during the evenings how to become an Animagus, which I mastered over the break, and can now become a peregrine falcon with only a thought. Ginny knows more than you because she followed me into the Chamber in the fall, and has been joining me ever since in my sword-fighting lessons."
He paused. Ron and Hermione were gaping at him with identical looks of incomprehension.
.:Once more, with feeling:. Decimare quipped.
"Shut up," Harry snapped. Aloud. Ron and Hermione shook out of their stupor to glare at him. "Not you two!" he stammered. "Decimare!"
Hermione blinked. "Decimare. Which would be your… sword?"
"That's right," Harry agreed.
"Which you keep in the Chamber," Ron added.
"No, I've got it with me right now," Harry corrected. His friends stared at him as if he were insane. "It can shape shift into a ring," he explained.
"Of course it can," Hermione agreed, watching him uneasily, as if he were about to attack her for no apparent reason.
"I'm not insane!" Harry snapped. "Stop looking at me like that! I'll prove it – Decimare, shift!"
Nothing happened.
'Now,' Harry growled mentally.
There was a slurping sound, and suddenly a gleaming black sword appeared in Harry's hand, the tiny obsidian snake wrapped around the hilt weaving sinuously in the morning breeze.
"Blimey," Ron breathed. "That's bloody brilliant, mate!"
Well, at least one of his friends didn't hate him. Hermione, meanwhile, looked absolutely furious.
"So you're saying that you stole this sword from the Potter vault six months ago?" she nearly shouted. "And you didn't think it important to tell us! Harry, you have no idea what that thing is! Look! That snake carving on the hilt is moving! This is probably some horribly dark magical object! You have no idea what it could do to you!"
"And Ginny knows all about this?" Ron said quietly, looking rather crestfallen.
Harry immediately leapt to his own defense. "It's not because I didn't trust you guys, it's just that she followed me into the Chamber without my knowing! I had to tell her! And besides, she doesn't know everything. Only about Decimare."
"You talk about it like it's a person," Hermione noted.
Decimare hissed loudly in response. Hermione and Ron backpedaled furiously. .:Skittish things, aren't they:. Decimare said in amusement.
"He says you're skittish," Harry said helpfully.
"This is one of those parselmouth things, isn't it?" Hermione demanded. "Harry, I hate to say it, but snakes are usually bad news, even if you can speak their language! For all we know, this sword of yours could have been forged by… I don't know, Salazar Slytherin, for heaven's sake!"
Harry whistled in admiration. "Good guess." His friends blanched.
"Okay," Hermione managed, pulling herself back together with remarkable poise. "So our best friend's been possessed by an evil incarnation of Salazar Slytherin. What about this Animagus thing?"
"A peregrine falcon," Ron recalled. "If that's true, mate…"
"I'll show you, don't worry," Harry grinned. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching. "Okay. Ready?"
"I don't know if this is such a good ide-eeeeek!" Hermione squealed in alarm as Harry suddenly transformed into his peregrine falcon form. The squeal instantly changed to a coo of delight, and he was soon gathered in the bushy-haired witch's arms, while Ron looked on with no small amount of jealousy. Whether that was for his ability to transform, or the fact that he was currently snuggled in Hermione's arms, Harry couldn't tell.
Wiggling a little to get free, Harry clambered out of the brunette's arms and, with a mighty flap of his (albeit tiny) wings, he soared into the crisp morning air. Gaining some altitude, he performed a few of the simple aerial tricks he'd worked out, and even did a little dive, to the delight of his captive audience.
When he returned to the ground and shifted back to human form, however, the disapproving frowns had returned to his friends' faces. "So you've been working on that all this time, and you never told us?" Hermione said softly.
"You've been teaching my sister how to use a sword?" was Ron's major grievance.
"Yes, and yes," Harry admitted. "To the first – Hermione, I wanted to tell you, but I felt so bad for taking the sword that I didn't want to tell anyone – again, Ginny only knows because she followed me. The Animagus thing – my dad just came back to life after being dead for fourteen years – I thought it'd be nice to have something that was just between us. And Sirius, but he's practically family."
"And the part about you trying to decapitate my sister with pointy weapons?" Ron growled.
Harry shrugged helplessly. "She saw me practicing, and wanted to learn how to fight. What did you want me to do, say no? She would've murdered me!"
Ron looked ready to argue, but stopped when he remembered his sister's temper. "Fine," he grunted. "But if you hurt her, I'll kill you."
"Yes, I kind of got that," Harry grinned tentatively. "Are we good?"
Ron shrugged. "I s'pose. But you pull this secretive crap again, and I'm never going to speak to you as long as I live. Got it?" Harry nodded hastily, and Ron finally smiled.
Hermione bristled. "Well, that's all well and good for you, Ronald, but I'm not so forgiving! Harry, I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, but you ought to show that sword to your father or the Headmaster! It could be dangerous!"
Harry frowned. "It sure seems like you're trying to tell me exactly how to live my life, Hermione. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I didn't, and that's that. Stop telling me what to do!"
"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd trusted us enough to tell us about this!" Hermione shrieked. Before Harry could do anything, the brunette burst into tears and tore off across the grounds.
"She's got a point, you know," Ron told Harry with a grim expression. "I don't know when you stopped trusting us, mate, but it hurts. When you feel like being our friend again, you know where to find us. Try spending an evening in the common room – it can be just fun as your secret chamber. But then, you wouldn't know, would you?"
"Ron…"
Giving him a frustrated look, Ron shook his head and took off after Hermione. Harry watched them go with a heavy heart. 'That went well.'
.:That went abysmally:. Decimare corrected. .:You were supposed to beg forgiveness for being a secretive git, not accuse them of trying to control you:.
'She was trying to take you away!' Harry protested. 'And before you say anything, yes, I'm aware of how scarily possessive I just sounded of you.'
Decimare hissed in annoyance. .:So now what, master? You're going to let your best friends walk away without putting up any resistance whatsoever? I thought you idiotic Gryffindors were against that sort of thing:.
'We are,' Harry agreed. 'I'm just worried that if I go after them now, it'll be too soon. What if I say something that they won't forgive?'
A horrible thought struck him.
'And what about when they find out about Pettigrew?' he demanded. 'Decimare, they'll hate me!'
.:You could have just told them everything:. Decimare pointed out. .:Then this wouldn't be an issue:.
'Decimare,' Harry snapped. 'I've been hiding things from them for so long, they don't trust me like they used to. If I told them about Pettigrew and Merlin's shield, they'd go straight to Dumbledore.'
.:Interesting point:. the snake admitted. .:Very well. I solemnly swear that I won't so much as mention Pettigrew to your friends unless you do first:.
Harry groaned. 'You're all heart, Decimare.'
.:It certainly isn't my fault your idiotic acquaintances are too primitive to understand my speech:. Decimare hissed. .:And you'd do well to keep those sarcastic comments to yourself, master. Can't have you infringing on my trademark activity:.
A loud bell sounded, signaling the end of the evacuation drill. Harry sighed. 'I suppose I'd better tell Ginny about the Animagus thing before Ron and Hermione give her the third degree. Wouldn't want to be single again because she finds out from them instead of me.'
.:That isn't necessarily a bad thing:. Decimare said thoughtfully. .:After all, if you don't have that girl monopolizing all your time, you'll be able to do more important things:.
Harry's heart lifted a little. 'Yeah? Like what?'
.:Practicing your Latin:. the snake offered. .:The language is essential for any spell caster to learn. We could even start now, if you like. Let us begin with declining the noun nautae. Nauta, nautae, nautae, nautam…:.
Harry blanched. 'Like I said, I'd better find Ginny. Now, if possible.'
The pair took off toward the castle, Decimare reciting its endless list of noun declensions, and Harry clutching his head in abject misery the whole way.