Chapter nine

A weekend lesson

/

There was darkness all around.

He was breathing hard and he could hear his heart pounding loudly. However, he could neither move nor close his eyes. He just stared into the pitch-black dark and listened to the deep silence.

Suddenly, there was a soft sound. A hissing, then sizzling.

He held his breath. It approached him in a gliding motion. Closer and closer.

It touched him and he shuddered in revulsion under the icy and slimy touch. He still could not do anything despite his fierce efforts.

Cold drops fell on his face and hissing echoed right through his head. He wanted to start screaming, running, just anything…

Then, the hissing, sputtering thing disappeared and deafening silence fell upon him once more.

After a while, an icy gale erupted all around him.

As if it was taking him somewhere…

He hit the ground with his feet and barely managed to keep his balance. He was grateful to be in control of his body again. He looked around quickly.

He realized he was in the night forest. He felt a tingle on his neck and staggered around. Behind him stood a figure with long hair. However, it was dark so he could only see their silhouette. It was a woman and she did not move.

Something made him turn again.

He saw a small silver light far ahead. The light was getting closer and bigger. He began to make out a shape in it, but at that exact moment, a horrible scream, full of pain and terror, rang out in his head.

Harry raised his hands to cover his ears and registered that the female figure, which was suddenly right next to him, reacted the same way. The inhuman scream darkened his sight with pain…

/

Harry sat up on the bed. He was breathing heavily and felt sick. However, he was surprised to find that his scar did not hurt or burn... He desperately tried to capture the remnants of dream that had irrevocably begun to fade from his memory.

At the same moment, at the other end of the castle, in a completely different bedroom, Angela jerked out of her sleep. She stifled a cry of pain and covered her face with her hands. She only slowly calmed down and stood up quietly to tiptoe out of the room. She knew from experience that she would not be able to sleep now anyway. Although something was different that night…

/

That first Saturday morning, there was a stifling silence at the table, where the trio settled.

Harry sleepily chewed his breakfast and squinted his eyes into space, while Ron clumsily stuffed himself. Hermione sitting opposite to them was sipping on juice and pretended concentration on a textbook with a rather strange cover. This gloomy atmosphere was broken by Ginny and her friend, who sat down next to them and their good mood finally made the trio to talk.

After the two chatty fifth-grade students left their spots as quickly as they arrived, the atmosphere was noticeably better.

"Tell me what those girls see on him?" said Ron thoughtfully after a moment, looking at the Slytherin table.

"On whom?" Harry asked confused.

"Upon Malfoy."

Slowly, Harry turned. Malfoy was sitting on the edge of the table, dressed in a black button-up shirt. Muggle clothing apparently came to be in fashion among pureblood wizards that year as well. His fair hair fell into his eyes, its ends reaching under the collar. He had the Daily Prophet open in front of him.

"Well, what do you think?" said Hermione unexpectedly. "After all, he is a handsome, tall guy from a rich family and recently as mysterious as an abandoned castle. No wonder half of the girls here are so enthusiastic about him."

Ron and Harry stared at her in utter shock.

"What?" she asked casually. "You wanted to know, didn't you?"

"Hermione…" Ron pouted.

"Just because he's a cocky jerk doesn't mean he's unattractive," Hermione countered perfectly calmly.

Ron began to work on his already cold breakfast indignantly, and Harry turned to the person in question again.

A bunch of Slytherin girls were sitting nearby Malfoy, constantly peeking at him and whispering, not forgetting to giggle loudly every now and then.

Malfoy seemed to sense that someone was watching him and lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze. He sneered scornfully, swung his legs over to the other side of the bench, and slammed the Prophet against the table. He briskly made his way to the exit, with the girls watching him admiringly.

"Don't stare at him like that, Harry," said Hermione. "You still have a certain fan club left, too," she remarked with a mischievous smile.

"What?" Harry asked, still keeping his eyes on Malfoy.

Hermione started to say something, but he could not hear it anymore. Angela appeared in the entrance to the Hall in a fitting green skirt and stood in Malfoy's way. She looked quite angry and quietly blurted something out. Malfoy frowned, probably asking something. The girl started gesticulating angrily, but she controlled her voice. Nothing of their conversation could be heard in the slowly calming Great Hall.

Malfoy looked defensive and then placed a hand on her shoulder, which gave Harry a stab in the stomach. He seemed to be trying to calm her down. Angela complied and let him lead her out. All of Draco's female fans were throwing jealous looks behind them.

Harry turned back to his friends with a sour expression. Ron looked at him in astonishment, while Hermione seemed to have just realized something. He rather reached for the jug of juice. His throat felt somewhat dry...

/

The higher the sun rose that day, the more unbearable the heat and stuffiness both in the Gryffindor common room and outside was. Harry could not wait for the evening and at the same time, he was afraid that he would be waiting there and Angela would not come.

After a long time they had a cold dinner. The school elves correctly concluded that one warm meal was more than enough in such heat. Anyway, Harry's stomach was squeezing so hard that he could not take much of it in. He kept peeking at the Slytherin table, but Angela was sitting with her back to him.

He did not stay long in company of Ron and Hermione and preferred to go upstairs to the bedroom. He made himself comfortable on the windowsill of the open window. The evening finally brought cooler air and the brightly shining stars dimly illuminated the school grounds. Yet, there was still an unpleasant haze in the air, which kind of spoiled the whole experience.

By half past nine, all his classmates except Ron had marched into the bedroom, and Harry made his way downstairs. He was not in the mood for Seamus and Dean's jokes. He walked absentmindedly through the empty common room with his head hanging, and the portrait of Fat Lady slammed shut behind him.

Just then, the two dishevelled heads of Hermione and Ron emerged from behind the high back of the couch.

"Ugh," Ron breathed out. "He didn't notice us."

Hermione gave him a strange look: "How long are we going to keep it a secret from him?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," he muttered. "When the time is right then..."

"Then what?" Hermione interrupted.

"Hey, if he wasn't so absent-minded all the time, he would have noticed it himself a long time ago," snapped Ron.

His girlfriend sighed: "I'd like to help him, but he's so withdrawn… He doesn´t let us behind that wall of his at all."

"I know. But don't be sad about it," urged Ron, caressing her cheek. "You know I hate to see that."

Hermione smiled and placed a kiss on his nose. Ron leant toward her in delight and their heads disappeared behind the back of the couch again.

/

Harry stood with his hands in pockets, staring at the closed door of History classroom. It kept running through his head that he could have apologized and spared himself these nerves.

Finally, he sighed and took the handle. The door creaked softly on its hinges and Harry closed it again behind him. He looked around the empty classroom lit by moonlight that cast strange shadows under the desks. Disappointed, he walked over to the window and looked up at the receding moon.

Hello, he suddenly heard in his head, he jumped and turned.

A slender figure sat on a desk by the wall near the door. Harry could not understand how he had not noticed her before.

"Hi," he managed to reply after he recovered his composure.

Angela slid off the small table and walked over to him in the moonlight.

"I thought you weren't coming," Harry remarked quietly. "I would deserve it."

"Truth be told, I thought the same thing about you," Angela replied.

Harry took a deep breath: "I'm sorry for lashing out on you. I really am…"

"It´s okay. Nothing so serious happened, Harry," she shook her head.

"But it did," Harry countered vehemently. "It hurt you. Sorry."

"Alright then," she nodded seriously. "I accept your apology."

"Great, thanks," Harry breathed out in relief.

"So? Do you want to try it?"

"Sure," he agreed right away. "That's why I'm here."

"Okay," Angela took out her wand, and in an instant, five candles began to float above them, and a blanket spread out on the cold floor.

Angela sat cross-legged on top of it and Harry followed suit.

"Actually…" Angela remembered, pointing her wand at the door, which clicked the lock. "Just in case," she added. "For the beginning, I'll introduce you to a few things you should know."

Harry nodded, watching her closely.

"First of all, when you speak to someone telepathically, you must never attempt to overcome the barrier that most wizards create in their minds to cover their thoughts. When I send something toward you, I always sense a solid defence. I did not expect it the first time and it brought my thought back, which is not a pleasant feeling. We can easily communicate telepathically with each other as long as we do not try to overcome each other's barrier.''

Harry listened to her voice and relished in the blissful feeling that Angela was looking at him.

"Secondly, don't think it's easy. Almost everybody, who is able to do this, can only communicate with someone else, if they can see him or her. It's enough of an obstacle for one of them to be in another room and they can't do it anymore."

"Does that apply to you as well?" Harry interrupted her with a question.

Angela pondered it for a while. "Probably. So far, there have not been many people with whom I have been able to communicate with, so I don't even know. But back to you… Don't expect to learn it right away. It took me almost two months before I was able to concentrate enough so that my thoughts were not flying somewhere in the air, but to the person I wanted to talk to."

"I'll arm myself with patience," Harry replied heroically.

Angela laughed. "Fine. I'm glad you have so much determination. I was quite annoyed it took me so long…" she breathed out and looked out the window for a moment.

Harry watched her intently. Angela did not move, hardly even blinked.

A little taken aback, he gently touched her arm. "Angie?"

Angela flinched and looked at Harry, almost frightened. Harry withdrew his hand.

"What´s wrong with you?"

"What? Nothing, I just… No one has addressed me like this in a long time," she said quietly.

"I'll call you that if you want," Harry offered.

"Well, I… I'd like that," she replied with a smile, but it seemed a little forced to Harry.

Angela brushed her hair off her forehead and continued as if nothing had happened.

"You already know the most important things, so if you don't have any questions..."

Harry shook his head.

"Then make yourself as comfortable as possible and close your eyes."

Harry shifted a little uneasily and Angela noticed a glint of distrust in his eyes. She sighed.

"I´m not trying to fool you, Harry. You have to trust me," she remarked firmly.

Harry blinked in surprise and then obediently closed his eyes.

"Try to calm down as much as possible and breathe regularly," her voice continued. "Put all unnecessary thoughts away. Don't dwell on anything, don't think, clear your mind."

Harry relaxed as much as he could, even though it was hard with Angela right in front of him, and breathed deeply. However, various thoughts were running like crazy in his head, and the more he tried to get rid of them, the harder it was. He frowned in displeasure.

"Don't try so hard," Angela said softly. "Release your thoughts; let them dissolve into nothing all by themselves."

Harry obeyed and surprisingly, after a while the swirl of thoughts died down until it started to fade away quite a bit. Finally, he felt calm and relaxed, which was something that he had not experienced in quite a while.

"Excellent," Angela whispered. "Keep calm and breathe slowly. Good. Now try to imagine the first thing that comes to your mind. Don't try to find it. Just surrender to your sub conscience."

Harry did not understand why, but a glowing moon appeared in his mind.

"Hold the image that came to you. Try to remember the details as if you actually saw it in real," the girl continued talking quietly.

Harry heard as she herself settled more comfortably.

"And now – you want me to see the same thing as you. Imagine that thing floating through the air from you to me. Focus on that."

Harry felt a slight headache and the moon floated away…

"Open your eyes!" Angela ordered loudly and Harry mindlessly obeyed.

He was looking directly into her eyes. Only now did he realize that their colour was somewhat unusual, like half brow, half-green. Before, he had not been able to perceive this pretty detail.

Angela frowned in concentration for a moment and then her expression brightened in surprise. "I caught something..."

"What?" Harry blurted out curiously.

"It was definitely something round and glowing. The sun?" she guessed.

Harry shook his head disappointed: "Almost. It was the moon."

"Don't look so down," Angela smiled encouragingly. "I didn't even expect you to be so close on the first attempt."

This really pleased Harry.

"Like this, we´ll always start. We will continue with words later. If you're patient, sending thoughts will soon come naturally to you and you won't have to concentrate so much."

"Shall we try one more time?"

"Why not? But not more, it's quite exhausting. So close your eyes again…"

They repeated the original procedure again, with the difference that Harry managed to calm down much faster.

He sent an image of a rose to Angela and she in turn made him open his eyes at the same time. It made him happy when she made out the outline of a flower.

"That's enough for today," Angela stood up. "If you want, we can meet here again tomorrow."

Harry rose to his feet as well, and only then did he realize that he was somewhat tired.

"I'm looking forward to it," he assured her, trying to make himself ask a certain question politely. "Did something happen to you today?"

Angela looked at him abashed: "No… Why?"

"You're sad," Harry replied.

She was silent for a long moment, looking at Harry thoughtfully. Just as she was drawing breath for an answer, a long meow came from outside the classroom door. They both flinched in horror and looked back at the door.

"What do you have there, Mrs. Norris?" a muffled voice sounded mutely from afar.

They quickly looked around the classroom and their eyes fell on the voluminous and above all tall bookcase. Angela looked at Harry questioningly and Harry nodded.

The young witch waved her wand over the candles and Harry was already stepping on the desk closest to the library. Using his arms, he swung himself onto it. There was plenty of room for both of them. He turned and helped Angela up as well. They moved as quietly as possible, while at the door, Mrs. Norris was meowing loudly, and rapidly approaching footsteps could be heard.

The two already lay side by side on their stomachs, when Angela remembered.

"The lock!" she whispered startled, quickly pulling out her wand.

The spell flew to the door, the lock clicked and the handle moved almost at the same time.

"What?" came the confused voice of Caretaker Filch.

Harry pulled Angela down and the door flew open. The annoying cat ran to where they had been sitting a moment ago and Filch was looking around in the lantern light.

"Nobody's here," he snorted hoarsely. "Come, Mrs. Norris. They were probably just mice."

Harry and Angela were not even breathing.

Mrs. Norris still looked suspiciously at the bookcase, but then ran after her master. The door slammed shut again and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Angela turned her head toward him. Something warm and fluttering filled Harry´s stomach, realizing how close they were.

"That was by the skin of goblin´s teeth…"

"Yeah, it was."

They waited a little longer, then Angela sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bookcase. She gracefully jumped down and landed on her feet. Harry landed next to her a little more noisily. They both made their way to the door in silence, stopping by it and listening. There was a grave silence in the corridor.

Angela slowly opened it and peeked out.

"We´re safe," she nodded at Harry and slipped out the door.

He closed the door behind them.

"So… Tomorrow at the same time?" Angela asked.

"Sure," he nodded. "Thanks for the first lesson, lady Professor."

She grinned and fell silent, just as Harry did. They looked at each other for a moment, both anxious and sheepish.

Harry wanted to move, but under her look, it was as if his feet were stuck to the floor. In the end, Angela approached him hesitantly, took a breath and then gave Harry a sweetest kiss on the left cheek.

"You´re welcome, Mr. Potter," she breathed out, stepped away from him and smiled a little embarrassed. "Good night."

With his head spinning, Harry felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest and returned her smile happily: "Good night, Angie."

Angela quickly turned and quietly walked away from him toward the stairs to the underground passage. Harry looked behind her with a wide grin. However, if he saw her face at that moment, he would not see a similar happy expression, but a worried, guilty face instead.