Harry jumped and automatically tried to hold his left arm with his right. He struggled with all his forces but found that he couldn't move at all. Panic started to rise inside him, and the realisation that he was under some class of paralysing charm didn't help matters. If he weren't so distraught he would have noticed that the pain in his arm was gone.
"He's awake!" A voice called. The sound of footsteps followed, and the infirmary door opened. Madam Pomfrey's hands touched Harry's forehead.
"Shhhh, it's okay, you needn't worry. Everything will be fine," it sounded like she was speaking to a very small and extremely ill tempered baby. That realisation, more than the words themselves, calmed Harry down instantly. He would go no-where struggling.
"Let him free, Poppy." Another voice came from far away and Harry tried to turn his head in that direction. "As soon as he realises that nothing was real he will calm down."
Professor Dumbledore stood at the entrance, accompanied by several other people. Snape was there, Harry was sure of that, and maybe Professor McGonagall too. They were talking amongst themselves but the only words he understood were "stupid, reckless boy," and "thinks he is better than anyone," spoken quite clearly by Snape's low voice. Harry expected them to enter and talk to him, but much to his amazement everyone turned away and Dumbledore closed the door behind Madam Pomfrey, leaving Harry alone with the nurse.
"What happened?" Harry asked hesitantly. He was so relieved by Dumbledore's words he could not care less about the lack of attention he was receiving.
"What did you expect? You got in the way of a dark Illusionary Charm. All that happened afterwards was only the product of your imagination."
"My arm was..." He stopped, not sure if mentioning the Dark Mark was a very good idea. Madam Pomfrey continued to prepare the various potions she intended to feed him. She didn't seem very interested in the details of his nightmare.
Half-hour later, Harry was thinking that his infirmary stay was turning out to be quite unusual. Normally there were dozens of people around him, every one worried about the great Harry Potter. Now he was alone, bored and brooding over the "incident". He didn't know if he should feel lonely or happy not to have so many people fussing about him. He examined his arm for the hundredth time. Just as before nothing was there, not even a tiny scar on the skin. And just as before, knowing it didn't make him feel any better. He still felt dirty.
After an interminable hour of waiting, Ron and Hermione came running into the room.
"He didn't let us skip the class, said there was nothing wrong with you," Hermione complained.
"What was it, Harry?" Ron carefully examined Harry's face as if he were afraid his words would trigger another attack.
"What did it look like?" Harry asked. He really preferred not to know. "You just fell on the floor, gripped your arm and started screaming like it was on fire, but there wasn't anything there," Ron carefully explained.
"I thought I had the Dark Mark. I saw it, it was exactly like Snape's, and it hurt like a bugger. And I heard Voldemort welcoming me, as though I were his servant or something," Harry admitted half-heartedly. It cost him more than he had imagined, as if saying it aloud would make it more real. Both Hermione and Ron stared at him in horror.
"No wonder you lost it," Ron breathed.
"I should have known better. Ilusio Sensoria – I knew what to expect. I should have known it wasn't real," Harry's brow furrowed in frustration.
"Harry, you can't fight an Illusory charm with common sense." Hermione's words, as rational as ever, couldn't cheer Harry up this time. Just the thought of the show he must have made was quite depressing, but when he remembered that the Slytherins had witnessed it all he felt half-hopeless and half-furious with himself at his own stupidity.
His friends hadn't realised Harry's state of mind yet. They were still boiling with rage at Snape's behaviour.
"We ran here right after they brought you, but he sent us back to the dungeon. We heard him speaking with Dumbledore, and he made it sound as though it were all your fault for being so sure of yourself. This filthy git said you volunteered to show the countercurse!" Ron was angry beyond caring if someone heard the conversation.
"I can't believe that he did it on purpose. He may hate Harry, but he would never try to hurt him!" Typical Hermione.
"He didn't plan to hurt me. Only to make me look like a fool in front of the class, which I did. And then he tried the same trick with Dumbledore." That would explain the fact that Dumbledore didn't come to talk to him and Madam Pomfrey looked angry. Did they really believe he was so stupid as to try something like that?
"Malfoy got away with his curse," Ron went on. "Dumbledore said he shouldn't have known that stuff, but it's supposedly in our Defence book. Snape said Malfoy had just prepared for the lesson well. It's not fair! They should throw him out of the school just for using it!"
"No," Hermione protested. Before they could ask her when she had joined Malfoy's side she started to speak again. "The curse I used on him, the verbal control, it was also a dark one." She swallowed nervously. "I didn't mean to; I just read about it, and thought it probably wasn't difficult at all, and then Malfoy turned up and it was simply too perfect. I didn't think. I know I always say we should just ignore him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get to me. Sometimes I hate him. I should have told you, I was just…"
"It doesn't matter." Ron made a dismissive gesture. "It wasn't really anything evil; you heard Snape, not compared to the stuff the Death Eaters do. Just look at what happened to Harry. Do you think Malfoy is grieving over what he did?"
"I don't care if it looks innocent. Messing with people's mind is very, very wrong!" Hermione said.
Ron's words may have soothed Hermione a little, but on Harry they had the opposite effect. He was recalling step by step as much of the scene as he could remember, and trying to imagine how it must have looked from outside, him rolling on the floor and screaming like crazy without any reason for it. For the first time he wouldn't have minded if Madam Pomfrey insisted he stay a couple of weeks, but (and it was also the first time such a thing happened) she said nothing of the sort. When she appeared to drive Ron and Hermione away she explained somewhat briskly that there was nothing wrong with him and that going back in the animation of the school would do him more good that staying there.
At least he got to stay over night. He couldn't sleep and spent the long hours getting more and more angry at himself and imagining what exquisite jokes he would have to endure. Towards the end, he drifted to sleep with the firm decision to skip breakfast and therefore avoid meeting the Slytherins for another couple of hours.
He couldn't fulfil his decision, however, because the first thing he saw after opening his eyes was Ron and Hermione, completely dressed and ready for lessons. They even brought his schoolbooks with them.
"Rise and shine!" Ron exclaimed, and stressed his words by jumping on Harry's bed and almost throwing him on the floor.
"Hurry up, we will be late for breakfast!" Greeted Hermione excitedly.
Considering that Ron never woke up earlier than was strictly necessary and that Hermione sounded incredibly excited for the 7 o'clock Harry's watch showed, it was obvious that his friends had guessed what was on his mind. Very slowly he started to dress himself.
It was Hermione who finally brought up the subject on their way to the Great Hall. "You aren't afraid of meeting Malfoy, are you, Harry?" It was a very direct way to put it. Harry winced at the word "afraid".
"Of course I'm not!" He protested automatically. "But I'm not looking forward to it, either." He admitted.
"There was nothing you could do about it, you couldn't know it wasn't real." It was the eighth time she said that. Harry had been counting. "Nobody can fight a hallucination with reasoning, do you want to see the page of the book it's written on?"
"Show it to Malfoy!" Harry snapped bitterly and, seeing that Hermione looked hurt, continued. "The Slytherins weren't the only ones who laughed, right?" When nobody answered he went on. "Admit it, it did look funny, all that screaming and theatre. Harry Potter going mental!"
"And what exactly were you planning to do? Hide in the Moaning Myrtle's toilet and whimper in duet?" Hermione had lost the remains of her patience and was showing it. Harry wasn't about to retreat. He seemed to be cursed never to be able to have a normal school year. These kinds of things never happened to his friends; how could they understand what he was feeling?
"Maybe I'll drop out of Hogwarts," he snapped. "Guess the Dursleys won't be disappointed!"
Hermione's words had cut deep. They reached the Great Hall and Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table with firm determination to ignore any jokes in his direction. A part of him wanted nothing more than to sit in the darkest place with his back to the Slytherins, but he would sooner die than show weakness. Before he could think better he dropped into a chair facing Draco Malfoy's from across the Great Hall. He thought he knew what would happen next.
It was the moment Malfoy had been waiting for. He let go of his fork, gripped his arm and let out a scream that immediately captured everyone's attention. He dropped and rolled on the floor, letting out high-pitched, mocking screams. The whole of the Slytherin table howled with laughter. Harry's face became a stone mask and he served himself a glass of juice without quite knowing what he was doing.
To make things worse, Cho Chang and a couple of Ravenclaw girls nearly stumbled on Draco on the way to their table. Harry's heart stopped when Cho paused in front of him.
"Are you quite all right?" To Harry's ears, it sounded more sarcastic than worried. The look on her face clearly said he wasn't in his right mind.
Harry could have cheered if Malfoy hadn't answered for the whole hall to hear: "Haven't you heard the news? Potter has finally lost it. He spent the night in the dungeons, tied up."
The spectacle was making such a disturbance that Professor McGonagall had to come from the teacher's table and put it to an end. "Mr. Malfoy, seeing your talent for representation and total lack of progress in magic I wonder if you don't belong somewhere besides Hogwarts. Keep this up and I will find out. Five points from Slytherin for disrupting breakfast."
"She should have made it ten. Than at least we would be even!" Ron protested.
"Snape took ten points from me?" Harry couldn't believe his ears.
"He also said you were to have a detention, but he couldn't be serious about that," Ron said distractedly as he turned back to his porridge.
Harry glared at the teacher's table with hate he didn't know he had. Snape was sitting there, pleasantly chatting with Professor Sprout. If he had seen Malfoy's performance he didn't let it show.
Professor McGonagall shut Malfoy's overlarge gob, but she couldn't control all the Slytherins. It took all of Harry's self control and the physical help of Ron and Hermione to sit quiet through breakfast. Students came to their table throughout, asking in concerned voices how Harry felt and if he was really being transferred to St. Mungo's.
"They'll forget it in a while," Ginny tried to comfort him.
"They'll be remembering it until pigs fly," Harry grumbled. It would take something truly monumental to make Draco Malfoy forget about his great victory. Seeing that extraordinary magical events occurred approximately once in a century, according to Professor Binns, Harry's future seemed quite dim.
Harry was so busy coming up with biting answers that he hardly touched the food on his plate. Ron and Hermione were talking about Quidditch and trying to insist that Harry joined them. Then the owls came flying in the Great Hall, and Hermione was distracted by a big snowy one that brought her a copy of Daily Prophet. Harry wasn't expecting any letters; he had just received one from Sirius the day before.
The excited talking became louder, only to transform into a deathly silence shortly afterwards. Harry looked up from his plate. All heads were turned in the direction of the teacher's table.
And then he saw it. An owl, completely similar to any other except that it was carrying the large red envelope that every student knew so well and dreaded so much. The owl made a circle over the teacher's table and let the Howler fall directly in front of Snape's plate.
A couple hundred mouths opened. Snape sat immobile, examining the Howler with the expression of somebody who had just found a hair in his pudding or a fly in his soup.
Dumbledore said something that could have been a question but was too low to be sure. Snape just shook his head. The other teachers were looking at him expectantly.
"Do you think he'll run away?" Ron asked silently, with his lips only. Somehow Harry doubted that. He remembered that Howlers were supposed to explode if not opened right away. Maybe Snape was waiting for that. It would be really embarrassing, but always better than running away or having to listen to whatever was prepared for him.
Snape did nothing of the sort. With a movement that dripped loathing he dropped his fork to the table, and in the deathly silence the sound carried loudly through the hall. He took out his wand and pointed it at the Howler. Nobody ever knew what spell he tried to use. As if the message were waiting for him to make the first move, the envelope opened with a deafening bang and a chillingly familiar voice sent shivers down Harry's spine:
"Professor? You're a Professor? I can't believe that a stupid git like you ever made it to be a professor at Hogwarts! I can't even believe you made it to Slytherin so far. A Slytherin is supposed to be cunning. Do you hear me, cunning! Wait in the dark and attack from behind! And what do you do? You go after Harry Potter at sunlight!"
Green wasn't a colour that looked pleasant on Snape. Harry had the impression he wasn't listening at all. His face was a contorted grimace of anger and he kept his wand pointed at the Howler, muttering curses very quickly. None had worked thus far.
"You spent four whole years trying to finish the boy, and every time you end up making fool of yourself. You are a disgrace to the Slytherin name!" Snape's magic was finally making effect. The voice was growing lower. Luckily, Sirius chose to keep his message short and to the point. "And wash your hair, you slimy imbecile!"
With that farewell the voice echoed though the hall and died away.
The silence that followed was as complete as before, except for the snorts whose authors were closing their mouths with hands and trying hard to suppress the laughter. It was simply too much to bear. Suddenly someone let out a giggle, and instantly the whole hall exploded with laughter that no amount of detentions or taken points could stop.
Most of the Gryffindors ended up under the table, rolling on the floor not unlike Malfoy had been. Most were simply unable to sit up straight and were clutching their bellies, trembling with waves of laughter. Stopping was impossible. They just tried their best to hide it.
Harry was the only one who didn't share everyone's delight from the start. When the Howler exploded he had coughed the pudding he was eating all over the table, terribly afraid of the sudden public "appearance" of his godfather. He was sure that any that heard his voice would instantly recognise to whom it belonged. He needn't have worried, for no-one did.
As soon as they trusted themselves to walk, all the Gryffindors hurried to exit. Looking at Snape was very entertaining indeed, but certainly not worth their lives. The memory would live on forever.
"I'll bet he was sorry he didn't run away!" Ron sang happily as soon as they left the Great Hall. To add more luck to the day it turned out they didn't have a class with Snape until Thursday.
"He thought he could overpower it!" George chuckled merrily.
"Outstanding! The best prank ever!" Fred voted.
"'Tis a pity 't'wasn't us!" George jumped in.
"No student could have sent a Howler that resisted Snape's curses for so long," Hermione noted. She got a warning look from Harry on her right and a punch in the shoulder from Ron on her left.
Nobody could concentrate properly during Charms. Professor Flitwick had been quite sympathetic and didn't mind the excited whispers that reigned in the classroom.
"It wasn't anyone from Hogwarts. It couldn't be any of the teachers, and no student would have a chance against Snape." Dean Thomas was putting together all the facts. "The only thing we know for sure is that, whoever it was, he sent the Howler because of Harry." Harry used all his acting talents to pretend he was surprised.
"I have no idea who," he said, seemingly pondering the idea.
"You have a great admirer out there," Ron came to rescue. "and with a terrific sense of humour. I never thought a Howler could be cool!" Everybody was of the same opinion as Ron.
Not everybody in the school believed Harry when he said he didn't know the sender of the Howler. It couldn't have mattered less, anyway. Everybody found it was the most perfect way to start a day, and the fact the Harry was being mysterious about it only added some wood to the fire of excitement.
Lavender Brown told everyone who would listen about the protector Harry had dealt in Divination. Fred and George spent the whole of lunchtime in the library doing extended research on Howlers and possible enhancements for them. Everybody was happy, and nobody remembered the incident in Defence.
Draco Malfoy tried to bring up the subject once again, but Seamus Finnigan jumped from behind and shouted at the top of his lungs: "And you call yourself a Slytherin? They are supposed be evil, to have imagination in messing with people! You're just plain dull!"
"And wash your hair!" Ron added in an afterthought, in spite of the fact that Malfoy's hair didn't need any washing. The phrase became somewhat of a new Gryffindor hymn. Professor McGonagall had overheard the incident but made no comment.
The day went by quickly, but not quickly enough. Harry could not wait until the end of the classes, when all the students left the classroom and he could be alone with Ron and Hermione.
"How did Sirius know about me?" The question had been bothering him throughout the whole day. Hermione only shrugged her shoulders, but Ron suddenly became very fascinated with his timetable.
"You wrote to him? Why the hell for? It's not your business!" It didn't come out exactly as he wanted. "I mean, it's not Sirius' business." Sirius had enough problems himself to come to the rescue every time Harry had some difficulties. Surely he could deal with Malfoy and Snape alone.
"You didn't write back, so his owl came to the dorm in the night. It wouldn't leave without an answer; woke everybody up. What was I supposed to do? I just wrote that you had an encounter with Malfoy courtesy of Snape and that you were going to be okay in the morning."
"I didn't want him to know," Harry answered in a low voice, through clenched teeth.
"But Harry, it's so cool! I wish my parents would do that for me. If I wrote home saying I had problems with a teacher they would probably send a Howler to me!" Admiration was written all over Ron's face and Harry found it increasingly difficult to stay angry with someone who thought his godfather was the best in the world.
"Ron is right. You are very lucky to have someone with whom you can talk. I wish I could do the same with my parents." Something about the way Hermione sounded made Harry turn from Ron to her.
"You don't tell them everything?" He asked.
"How could I? I mean, last year, of course I told them everything about the Tournament and you and the participants," she went slightly pink. "but then there's all the dangers of the magic, and You-Know-Who."
"You parents don't know about Voldemort?" Hearing that was incredible. Harry had completely forgotten that five years ago he himself didn't know who he was.
"It's what Malfoy said: they go after the Muggles first. My parents think it's wonderful, they were so happy when I was chosen. I just can't bear to tell them about it. They'd die of worry, knowing they can't even help. And what if they wanted me to leave?" She asked.
When they reached the common room any secret conversations had to be interrupted. The room was utterly crowded with people. The Gryffindors had decided that the public humiliation of Snape was as good a reason as any to celebrate. An intense debate was going on, the expression of Snape's face and the identity of the sender being the two centre topics.
"Maybe it was an ex-Slytherin student," Colin Creevey offered.
"What a disgrace, to be howled at by the member of your own house!" George called from behind a mountain of books without any hint of compassion, but rather a large bit of amusement.
"He shouldn't have done that. Snape will only get more vengeful now," Harry whispered to Ron when they found a relatively quiet place.
"Harry, he can't hate you any more than he does already," Ron said, and Harry found that knowing that was oddly comforting. "Anyway, he knows it wasn't you."
"D'you think he knows it was Sirius?" Harry asked.
"McGonagall certainly does. She never stopped looking at you with this expression." Ron answered quizzically. "You aren't worried, are you?"
"I most certainly am not!" Harry answered furiously. First Hermione, and now Ron! Did he have the word "coward" written all over his face?
"Well, it's very brave of you. I personally would be." Ron grinned.
"I just wish I had done something, got him myself instead of waiting for Sirius to rescue me. Sometime I will get him back, I swear!" Harry said.
"Just make sure you are very far from Hogwarts when he finds out, okay?"
Hermione was quiet as usual, sitting in a chair by the fire and reading. When all the students begun to disappear in their dormitories Harry made his way to her table.
"It's only the second day of school. What can you possibly have to study now?" Hermione turned to him and Harry saw that she wasn't reading a book, but rather, it was her copy of the Daily Prophet. She passed him the newspaper. The title on the first page read:
In smaller letters under the title was written:
"And?" Harry asked impatiently. He couldn't see the need to read an article on politics short for midnight.
"If this proposition is approved there will be a complete list of all English muggle-born wizards!" Hermione stated in a way that made Harry feel as though he were missing something vital.
"And?" Ron came closer and joined in.
"Can't you see it? They want to identify all the wizards with "impure" blood, so they can target them with ease."
"Don't you think you are exaggerating a bit?" Harry questioned.
"Why else would somebody bother to investigate the lineage of every wizard in this country? This kind of racial census has been done before, and the consequences were terrible," Hermione said, shaking her head.
Now Harry remembered it. The Society for the Promotion of Wizarding Traditions. He scanned down the article and found out right from the second line that the idea belonged to none other than Mr. Lucius Malfoy, thirty-seventh baronet of this, member of that, and the famous creator of the infamous society that infuriated Sirius and Remus so much.
"As long as they don't kill anybody…" He started but was quickly interrupted by Hermione.
"Killing somebody isn't the worst thing you can do to a person. They are one inch from saying that muggle-borns can never be as good as pure bloods. I personally find this simply humiliating. As long as I am a good witch, why should it be anybody's business who my parents are?" She and Ron clearly took the news quite seriously.
"My dad was furious when Malfoy funded this society. Percy says he nearly got fired for saying that the Ministry is prejudiced against the Muggles."
"I can't believe nobody is moving a finger to stop this. Fudge, I'm not surprised, but I had hoped that at least Dumbledore would do something," Hermione sighed and closed the paper.
"He is doing something." The words left Harry's lips before he could stop himself. And once started, he had to go on. He turned around to check if they were the only ones in the room and started to relate the events of his birthday once more, except that this time he left nothing out. During some time his quick whisper was the only sound in the common room. He told his friends everything, from the history of the Order to the phoenix feather in his wand.
"Dumbledore would never put you in danger, and you know it," offered Hermione after a long silence.
"I don't think it's dangerous. It's the point of the enchantment, to stand up to Voldemort all together." Harry protested.
"Maybe not, but I still can't imagine Dumbledore would ever consider placing you against You-Know-Who. It has to be something else, or Sirius could be plain wrong."
"It does make some sense," Ron said, wrinkling his forehead. "I have heard about the unicorn wands the Healers use myself."
"Ask Sirius. It's the simplest thing," Hermione suggested.
"I know what he'll say," Harry said.
"He'll be right. You do have to be careful," Hermione stated.
"I have to be careful and everyone else can do whatever they want. Did you think the Howler to Snape was very careful?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Really! This morning you complained that you always got in trouble and now you seem not to have enough! You should keep quiet and study a lot to pass your OWLs! How can you possibly believe that Dumbledore expects you to run around sticking your nose in things that don't concern you at all?" But the idea of doing something looked more and more attractive to Harry.
"Can't hurt, can it? To find out more about the Order, I mean."
"No, no and no. You are not doing anything of the kind. Promise me that you are not going to the forbidden section to look for that book, Harry, please," Hermione and Ron pleaded together.
Only after Harry had promised not to make any night trips to the library did Hermione allow him to leave the common room. As Harry and Ron went up the stairs to the boy's dorm it occurred to him that he didn't need to go there at all. If he was right the book was not in the library. It was in the secret room near Dumbledore's office. And the only way to get there without knowing the password was the Portkey hanging around Sirius' neck.
A/N:
- as always, huge thanks to all the people who lost 1 minute of their time and reviewed and specially to all who
offered their help with beta-reading! It's a pity I had to choose only one.
- to Rachel Granger-Gryffindor: I loved you review so much I used a little of it in this chapter! Hope you don't mind me using your expression.
- the whole "Howler to Snape" idea is nothing new in WMPP fics, I don't know who started it originally. I just wanted a Howler to be sent to Professor Snape, so I did it!
- a special mention to my new wonderful beta Lin-z who helped to make the funny parts of this funnier and the
serious better written. You noticed the difference, I'm sure! And check her story Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret, too!