Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's.
A Note From The Author: I am so, so sorry that this took so long in getting out, and that it's shorter than I intended. Between vacation, end-of-the-term work, and my trying to figure out where I want to go with this, it's been quite awhile, for which I apologize. Hopefully the next part will be out sooner. Before you start, I warn you that this is a fairly fluffy segment. Thank you so much to Arabella, for being such a great beta-reader. And also thank you of you wonderful people who reviewed the last one. Please enjoy!
Aftermath and Awakenings
Part II
A Harry Potter Fanfic by Aira
***
"You mean one of those dreams?" Ron's eyes widened as he spoke.
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, aren't you going to tell us about it?" Ron demanded, referring to himself and Hermione.
Harry took a deep breath as he began to retell his dream:
"Come, Death Eaters," hissed the snake-like voice of a newly returned Lord Voldemort as he touched upon the left shoulder of one of his servants.
Gradually, a platoon of hooded wizards appeared in the bleak plain a few at a time. Each bowed his head in submission, and carefully repeated the words "Yes, my Lord." After such formalities were over and done with, each Death Eater found his place in the circle that surrounded Voldemort. The air was thick with tension and anxiety.
Just then, a new Death Eater Apparated into the ring, alone. "Ah, yes, Severus," spoke Voldemort's voice. "What news have you from that Muggle-loving fool?"
The lips of Severus Snape twisted into a cruel smirk. "He has made new arrangements for young Potter. He will be staying with his friend's family for the duration of the summer. Unfortunately, Dumbledore himself put protection spells on the boy and the house. They cannot be broken."
Surprisingly, Voldemort did not seem overly disappointed with this news. "Very well then. I expected as much. It does not matter. Death Eaters, I have now conceived a new plan, one that will ensure my place of power."
The Dark Lord paused as he glared around at his circle of followers. "What is it, my Lord?" spoke the eager voice of Lucius Malfoy.
For a moment, Voldemort met Malfoy's gaze with a hardened look, but he quickly turned his eyes back towards the whole circle. "Hogwarts, as you know, is extremely well-protected. No other witch or wizard could even begin to think of penetrating its security. But I, I am the Heir of Slytherin. I have access to all of the secrets of the Hogwarts Four. The great Salazar once built a secret passageway that was to lead directly to Hogwarts. It was built in coalition with the Chamber of Secrets, though the plan was never completed before his death. The passageway can only be opened by Slytherin's descendants. It will give me complete access to Hogwarts. So much power…it could be mine."
His fiery red eyes took on a crazed gleam at the thought of such power, but the evil being quickly sobered as reality hit him. "However, as of yet I have been unsuccessful in locating this passageway. I have narrowed it down to a certain area, however. Your task, Death Eaters, is to pinpoint the exact location. You are to look for areas with strong magical auras, as those are the most likely. Now, go. Do not fail me."
By the time Harry finished retelling all this, both Hermione and Ron had eyes as wide as Bludgers. "You've written Dumbledore, of course?" Hermione questioned sharply.
"Yeah," Harry responded, while his friend nodded approval.
Ron, meanwhile, was more focused on Snape. "The git!" he exclaimed. "He's told You-Know-Who where you are. Spy my rear end. I'll bet he's really on the Dark Side."
Though Harry felt somewhat inclined to agree, Hermione looked at him sternly. "I'm sure if Dumbledore trusts him, then he's right to. He's probably just a spy like he was before."
To Harry's surprise, Ron flushed at this gentle reprimand. Normally he might have picked an argument, but now he said nothing. Remembering Ron's confession the night before, Harry thought he understood. Furthermore, he noted the two sitting closer to one another than was necessary.
"Anyway, Harry," said Hermione, interrupting Harry's internal debate on whether to make a comment. "I'm sure it's nothing for you to worry about. So long as you've written to Dumbledore as he told you to-"
"I told you already, I did," replied an exasperated Harry. Though he appreciated his friends' concern for him, he was already drowning in his own worries. The last thing he needed were those of others. A million questions, scenarios, and "what ifs" reeled around in his brain. Try as he might, he could not stop himself from what might happen if Dumbledore was unable to prevent Voldemort from finding and using this passage.
Ron then interrupted Harry's vision of Voldemort showing up during his Transfiguration class. "Anyway…this is nothing to worry about, Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore and Arabella Figg will stop him from entering Hogwarts."
His tone, however, was similar to that of someone saying "this could be good" in reference to brussel sprouts. Firm, hopeful even. But not quite believing it themselves.
*
Harry's wake-up the next day could not have been any more different from that of the previous day. Today there was no cold sweat, no lingering memories of a plotting Voldemort. No, instead Harry woke up to a wall of presents.
"Happy birthday, Harry!" Ron said cheerfully; he had apparently been up for awhile.
As Harry reached for his glasses and looked around the room, his lips pulled upward into a grin. The Chudley Cannon posters that were usually plastered around Ron's room were barely visible; in their place was a huge sign that wrapped around the whole of the room. It read "Happy Birthday, Harry!" and Harry inferred from the dancing letters that Mrs. Weasley had charmed it. Better still, at the foot of his bed was a large pile of presents.
"Well, get opening them!" Ron demanded good-naturedly.
Grinning at the presents, Ron, and Hermione, who had just entered the room, Harry grabbed the first one. It turned out to be a large box of candies from Mrs. Weasley. Harry snagged a Chocolate Frog, and then graciously passed the box on to his friends.
Though the next present contained a good share of sweets as well, Harry knew better than to eat any of them. He could only imagine the kind of things that Fred and George had put in. Indeed, Harry recognized several Canary Creams, Pimply Pastries, and Ton-Tongue Toffees amidst many sweets he had never seen before. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what they did.
"You know what those are?" Harry asked Ron, pointing to the unidentifiable trick sweets.
Ron shrugged; a mischievous glint working it's way into his eyes. "Maybe we can ask Draco Malfoy next term."
The two looked towards Hermione, obviously expecting a scolding. Surprisingly, she only motioned for Harry to open the next package. Harry privately marveled that his best friends seemed to be in astonishingly good spirits for no apparent reason-or maybe it was just that they were sitting next to each other.
The next present was from Ron, a glossy book that read A Seeker's Encyclopedia in gold letters. A blown-up picture of the Golden Snitch filled the front cover, with wings that really moved. Harry could tell that quite a bit of Ron's savings had gone into buying it, but he didn't say anything other than "Wow, Ron! Thanks!"
Harry was a bit surprised at his next gift. It was such a light package that Harry couldn't possibly imagine what was inside. When he tore open the delicate package, he saw that it was a portrait, and quite a good one at that. Done in black and white, it was of himself, Ron, and Hermione. The artist had managed to capture the three figures almost perfectly, and Harry was amazed at the detail that went into the faces. Ron's sarcastic smirk and Hermione's intelligent smile, as well as his own determined look, were captured quite nicely. Harry's eyes wandered to a signature on the top-right corner. He made out the name "G. Weasley" in rather girlish script.
Attached was a brief note:
Harry,
I hope you like this, and a very happy birthday to you!
Ginny
Harry frowned in thought. He had no idea that Ginny was such a talented artist. Come to think of it, she had never given him a birthday present at all before. It was a nice gesture, anyhow, Harry thought as he wordlessly showed Ron and Hermione, both of whom admired the painting, but did not seem remotely surprised by the artistic talent demonstrated by Ginny.
Only one gift remained, which had to be from Hermione. Upon opening it, he saw it was a leather-bound book of medium thickness, though it had no title. He shot a questioning glance towards his friend. "It's a photo album," she explained. "It has photos from all of our years at Hogwarts. Well, not so many from our first year. I got most of the photos from Colin Creevey."
While Ron sniggered, Harry began to leaf through the book. There was Neville, turning into a canary as the Gryffindor common room roared with laughter. There was Harry along with the rest of the Quidditch team, holding the Cup with grins a mile wide. There was a soaking, gasping-for-breath Harry, dragging Ron and Gabrielle out of the water. As Harry continued to look at the moving pictures, good memories rushing back to him as he did, he couldn't help but think that it was quite a thoughtful gift for Hermione to give. Words from Dumbledore's closing speech echoed through his mind. "Remember Cedric…" It suddenly occurred to him that it was important to remember not only Cedric, but all of the pleasant memories of the past. Harry vividly recalled telling Fred and George that they would be needing laughs more than usual. Perhaps the same was true of memories.
Suddenly, Harry caught a glimpse of a shot taken at the end of his second year. He couldn't quite remember who had taken the picture, but it was just of himself, Ron, and Hermione, standing in front of the fireplace in the common room. Looking at the three smiling, careless children in the photo, Harry vowed that he wouldn't let them perish, no matter what the cost.
*
A couple of hours and a dash of Floo powder later, Harry found himself standing in the living room of Remus Lupin. Ron and Hermione had already arrived and were exchanging greetings with Professor Lupin, who looked considerably younger than when Harry had last seen him.
Suddenly, Harry felt a hand pat his shoulder from behind. He turned around and found himself facing Sirius. He too appeared somewhat younger and, at any rate, happier, than when they had met last. But then, that had been the night when Voldemort returned…
Harry quickly shook himself from his thoughts. It was his birthday, there was a competent Minister who was dealing with Voldemort, and he had every intention of enjoying himself for today, at least. "What, no greeting?" Sirius asked in a mock-hurt voice.
Harry quickly put on a smile. "Hi, Snuffles."
Sirius let out a very dog-like growl at the name-perhaps something he had picked up from spending so much time as Padfoot? -but otherwise let the comment slide. Harry, meanwhile, went to greet his former teacher. "Hello, Professor!" he said brightly.
Lupin smiled in return. "You know, Harry, I really think we can drop the 'professor', as I'm not one anymore. You're free to call me Remus."
"All right-Remus," said Harry, grinning at the thought of having what was bound to be the best birthday of his life.
*
"Had fun today, Harry?" Sirius asked with a smile several hours later.
He needn't have asked, as Harry's exuberant face and gleeful eyes spoke for themselves. He certainly had "had fun." Best, perhaps, was receiving the gift Sirius and Remus had put together for him. It seemed as though they were thinking along the same lines as Hermione, as their "gift" was really a scrapbook of letters and pictures from his parents' schooldays. Slipped in were occasional narratives of some of the marauders' more interesting (and, Harry suspected, tamer) gags. Harry found the gift to be far better than the most expensive of broomsticks and other more extravagant pieces of wizarding equipment. He could have stared at the smiling images of his parents and the amusing letters for hours-and almost did, but Ron pulled him away.
On top of that was a scrumptious ice cream cake that actually sang "Happy Birthday", however badly out of tune. After an enjoyable lunch, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had enjoyed a game of tag, played on broomsticks, and now his two best friends sat playing chess. Hermione was losing spectacularly, but didn't seem to mind. Harry certainly didn't miss the warm glow emitting from the two when sitting close together.
Reflecting back on the day, Harry knew that being with his friends was the best birthday gift of all.
*
A Note From The Author: I am so, so sorry that this took so long in getting out, and that it's shorter than I intended. Between vacation, end-of-the-term work, and my trying to figure out where I want to go with this, it's been quite awhile, for which I apologize. Hopefully the next part will be out sooner. Before you start, I warn you that this is a fairly fluffy segment. Thank you so much to Arabella, for being such a great beta-reader. And also thank you of you wonderful people who reviewed the last one. Please enjoy!
Aftermath and Awakenings
Part II
A Harry Potter Fanfic by Aira
***
"You mean one of those dreams?" Ron's eyes widened as he spoke.
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, aren't you going to tell us about it?" Ron demanded, referring to himself and Hermione.
Harry took a deep breath as he began to retell his dream:
"Come, Death Eaters," hissed the snake-like voice of a newly returned Lord Voldemort as he touched upon the left shoulder of one of his servants.
Gradually, a platoon of hooded wizards appeared in the bleak plain a few at a time. Each bowed his head in submission, and carefully repeated the words "Yes, my Lord." After such formalities were over and done with, each Death Eater found his place in the circle that surrounded Voldemort. The air was thick with tension and anxiety.
Just then, a new Death Eater Apparated into the ring, alone. "Ah, yes, Severus," spoke Voldemort's voice. "What news have you from that Muggle-loving fool?"
The lips of Severus Snape twisted into a cruel smirk. "He has made new arrangements for young Potter. He will be staying with his friend's family for the duration of the summer. Unfortunately, Dumbledore himself put protection spells on the boy and the house. They cannot be broken."
Surprisingly, Voldemort did not seem overly disappointed with this news. "Very well then. I expected as much. It does not matter. Death Eaters, I have now conceived a new plan, one that will ensure my place of power."
The Dark Lord paused as he glared around at his circle of followers. "What is it, my Lord?" spoke the eager voice of Lucius Malfoy.
For a moment, Voldemort met Malfoy's gaze with a hardened look, but he quickly turned his eyes back towards the whole circle. "Hogwarts, as you know, is extremely well-protected. No other witch or wizard could even begin to think of penetrating its security. But I, I am the Heir of Slytherin. I have access to all of the secrets of the Hogwarts Four. The great Salazar once built a secret passageway that was to lead directly to Hogwarts. It was built in coalition with the Chamber of Secrets, though the plan was never completed before his death. The passageway can only be opened by Slytherin's descendants. It will give me complete access to Hogwarts. So much power…it could be mine."
His fiery red eyes took on a crazed gleam at the thought of such power, but the evil being quickly sobered as reality hit him. "However, as of yet I have been unsuccessful in locating this passageway. I have narrowed it down to a certain area, however. Your task, Death Eaters, is to pinpoint the exact location. You are to look for areas with strong magical auras, as those are the most likely. Now, go. Do not fail me."
By the time Harry finished retelling all this, both Hermione and Ron had eyes as wide as Bludgers. "You've written Dumbledore, of course?" Hermione questioned sharply.
"Yeah," Harry responded, while his friend nodded approval.
Ron, meanwhile, was more focused on Snape. "The git!" he exclaimed. "He's told You-Know-Who where you are. Spy my rear end. I'll bet he's really on the Dark Side."
Though Harry felt somewhat inclined to agree, Hermione looked at him sternly. "I'm sure if Dumbledore trusts him, then he's right to. He's probably just a spy like he was before."
To Harry's surprise, Ron flushed at this gentle reprimand. Normally he might have picked an argument, but now he said nothing. Remembering Ron's confession the night before, Harry thought he understood. Furthermore, he noted the two sitting closer to one another than was necessary.
"Anyway, Harry," said Hermione, interrupting Harry's internal debate on whether to make a comment. "I'm sure it's nothing for you to worry about. So long as you've written to Dumbledore as he told you to-"
"I told you already, I did," replied an exasperated Harry. Though he appreciated his friends' concern for him, he was already drowning in his own worries. The last thing he needed were those of others. A million questions, scenarios, and "what ifs" reeled around in his brain. Try as he might, he could not stop himself from what might happen if Dumbledore was unable to prevent Voldemort from finding and using this passage.
Ron then interrupted Harry's vision of Voldemort showing up during his Transfiguration class. "Anyway…this is nothing to worry about, Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore and Arabella Figg will stop him from entering Hogwarts."
His tone, however, was similar to that of someone saying "this could be good" in reference to brussel sprouts. Firm, hopeful even. But not quite believing it themselves.
*
Harry's wake-up the next day could not have been any more different from that of the previous day. Today there was no cold sweat, no lingering memories of a plotting Voldemort. No, instead Harry woke up to a wall of presents.
"Happy birthday, Harry!" Ron said cheerfully; he had apparently been up for awhile.
As Harry reached for his glasses and looked around the room, his lips pulled upward into a grin. The Chudley Cannon posters that were usually plastered around Ron's room were barely visible; in their place was a huge sign that wrapped around the whole of the room. It read "Happy Birthday, Harry!" and Harry inferred from the dancing letters that Mrs. Weasley had charmed it. Better still, at the foot of his bed was a large pile of presents.
"Well, get opening them!" Ron demanded good-naturedly.
Grinning at the presents, Ron, and Hermione, who had just entered the room, Harry grabbed the first one. It turned out to be a large box of candies from Mrs. Weasley. Harry snagged a Chocolate Frog, and then graciously passed the box on to his friends.
Though the next present contained a good share of sweets as well, Harry knew better than to eat any of them. He could only imagine the kind of things that Fred and George had put in. Indeed, Harry recognized several Canary Creams, Pimply Pastries, and Ton-Tongue Toffees amidst many sweets he had never seen before. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what they did.
"You know what those are?" Harry asked Ron, pointing to the unidentifiable trick sweets.
Ron shrugged; a mischievous glint working it's way into his eyes. "Maybe we can ask Draco Malfoy next term."
The two looked towards Hermione, obviously expecting a scolding. Surprisingly, she only motioned for Harry to open the next package. Harry privately marveled that his best friends seemed to be in astonishingly good spirits for no apparent reason-or maybe it was just that they were sitting next to each other.
The next present was from Ron, a glossy book that read A Seeker's Encyclopedia in gold letters. A blown-up picture of the Golden Snitch filled the front cover, with wings that really moved. Harry could tell that quite a bit of Ron's savings had gone into buying it, but he didn't say anything other than "Wow, Ron! Thanks!"
Harry was a bit surprised at his next gift. It was such a light package that Harry couldn't possibly imagine what was inside. When he tore open the delicate package, he saw that it was a portrait, and quite a good one at that. Done in black and white, it was of himself, Ron, and Hermione. The artist had managed to capture the three figures almost perfectly, and Harry was amazed at the detail that went into the faces. Ron's sarcastic smirk and Hermione's intelligent smile, as well as his own determined look, were captured quite nicely. Harry's eyes wandered to a signature on the top-right corner. He made out the name "G. Weasley" in rather girlish script.
Attached was a brief note:
Harry,
I hope you like this, and a very happy birthday to you!
Ginny
Harry frowned in thought. He had no idea that Ginny was such a talented artist. Come to think of it, she had never given him a birthday present at all before. It was a nice gesture, anyhow, Harry thought as he wordlessly showed Ron and Hermione, both of whom admired the painting, but did not seem remotely surprised by the artistic talent demonstrated by Ginny.
Only one gift remained, which had to be from Hermione. Upon opening it, he saw it was a leather-bound book of medium thickness, though it had no title. He shot a questioning glance towards his friend. "It's a photo album," she explained. "It has photos from all of our years at Hogwarts. Well, not so many from our first year. I got most of the photos from Colin Creevey."
While Ron sniggered, Harry began to leaf through the book. There was Neville, turning into a canary as the Gryffindor common room roared with laughter. There was Harry along with the rest of the Quidditch team, holding the Cup with grins a mile wide. There was a soaking, gasping-for-breath Harry, dragging Ron and Gabrielle out of the water. As Harry continued to look at the moving pictures, good memories rushing back to him as he did, he couldn't help but think that it was quite a thoughtful gift for Hermione to give. Words from Dumbledore's closing speech echoed through his mind. "Remember Cedric…" It suddenly occurred to him that it was important to remember not only Cedric, but all of the pleasant memories of the past. Harry vividly recalled telling Fred and George that they would be needing laughs more than usual. Perhaps the same was true of memories.
Suddenly, Harry caught a glimpse of a shot taken at the end of his second year. He couldn't quite remember who had taken the picture, but it was just of himself, Ron, and Hermione, standing in front of the fireplace in the common room. Looking at the three smiling, careless children in the photo, Harry vowed that he wouldn't let them perish, no matter what the cost.
*
A couple of hours and a dash of Floo powder later, Harry found himself standing in the living room of Remus Lupin. Ron and Hermione had already arrived and were exchanging greetings with Professor Lupin, who looked considerably younger than when Harry had last seen him.
Suddenly, Harry felt a hand pat his shoulder from behind. He turned around and found himself facing Sirius. He too appeared somewhat younger and, at any rate, happier, than when they had met last. But then, that had been the night when Voldemort returned…
Harry quickly shook himself from his thoughts. It was his birthday, there was a competent Minister who was dealing with Voldemort, and he had every intention of enjoying himself for today, at least. "What, no greeting?" Sirius asked in a mock-hurt voice.
Harry quickly put on a smile. "Hi, Snuffles."
Sirius let out a very dog-like growl at the name-perhaps something he had picked up from spending so much time as Padfoot? -but otherwise let the comment slide. Harry, meanwhile, went to greet his former teacher. "Hello, Professor!" he said brightly.
Lupin smiled in return. "You know, Harry, I really think we can drop the 'professor', as I'm not one anymore. You're free to call me Remus."
"All right-Remus," said Harry, grinning at the thought of having what was bound to be the best birthday of his life.
*
"Had fun today, Harry?" Sirius asked with a smile several hours later.
He needn't have asked, as Harry's exuberant face and gleeful eyes spoke for themselves. He certainly had "had fun." Best, perhaps, was receiving the gift Sirius and Remus had put together for him. It seemed as though they were thinking along the same lines as Hermione, as their "gift" was really a scrapbook of letters and pictures from his parents' schooldays. Slipped in were occasional narratives of some of the marauders' more interesting (and, Harry suspected, tamer) gags. Harry found the gift to be far better than the most expensive of broomsticks and other more extravagant pieces of wizarding equipment. He could have stared at the smiling images of his parents and the amusing letters for hours-and almost did, but Ron pulled him away.
On top of that was a scrumptious ice cream cake that actually sang "Happy Birthday", however badly out of tune. After an enjoyable lunch, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had enjoyed a game of tag, played on broomsticks, and now his two best friends sat playing chess. Hermione was losing spectacularly, but didn't seem to mind. Harry certainly didn't miss the warm glow emitting from the two when sitting close together.
Reflecting back on the day, Harry knew that being with his friends was the best birthday gift of all.
*
