Hi!! I'm
back!! Did you miss me? Well, after
madly scrawling away during English, Math, Science, and History (not
necessarily in that ORDER, and not to forget lunch!) this is what I've come up
with! Big hellos to Maggie, Laura, Jen
(AKA Aussie Opal, the Newsies fic writer) and anyone else from Glasgow reading
this! Hello also to my ff.n buddies…No
Reply, Quillow, Rufus, Metal Mouth, etc. Oh, lord, there's too many, and I wanna make this note SHORTER than the
actual story! Well, after hours of
wrestling with the chapter thingy, I think I've got it, so…ON WITH THE FIC!!!!
PART 6!!! HURRAY!!!!!! (Hopefully 7 will be up soon, too, but I need to figure
out how I'm going to do some stuff in that.)
Lupin re-entered the compartment exhausted mentally and physically. The previous night had been a full moon and he was nearly out of his mind with worry. What would Sirius do if Harry got hurt with Necromancy? It was an incredibly dangerous type of magic, and there wasn't any wizard at Hogwarts that would be able to get a spirit out of Harry if he was forcibly possessed without the risk of hurting him further.
Harry would be possessed against his will sooner than later. He hadn't gotten a chance to develop his ability further, and the less developed he was, the more susceptible…
Lupin knew for a fact that hundreds of dead wizards would love to get a hold on Harry, particularly Dark ones who had means of resurrecting themselves or deceased Death Eaters who could help Voldemort by forcing Harry to go to him. From there, Voldemort could resurrect his followers and even-Lupin shuddered at the thought- the most powerful wizard of all time, the one that had trained Voldemort himself: Grindelwald. Harry had to be trained, and quickly.
Lupin fell into the seat across from Harry, his fatigue carrying him immediately to sleep.
He woke up some time later to find Harry reading a book. He was about to ask how long Harry had been awake, but before he could utter one syllable, Harry said, "One hour" nonchalantly, without looking up from the book.
"What's the book?"
"The Catcher In The Rye."
"Is it good?'
"Very," Harry replied, turning a page.
"Have you read it before?"
"Five times."
"Can I look at it?"
Harry handed him a small paperback, dog-eared book. Lupin scanned the back quickly. "Do you mind if I borrow this?"
"Not at all."
Lupin pocketed the novel. "Harry, you mustn't mention Necromancy to anyone. Not even to Hermione or other professors. There're enough threats to you as it is. You have my class first tomorrow. I want you to eat breakfast as quickly as possible, and get down to Dumbledore's office immediately after. The password's 'everlasting gobstopper.' Got it?"
Harry nodded.
"Excellent." The train screeched to a stop. "Well, I have to get to the feast." He walked briskly out of the compartment, leaving Harry alone.
Harry stood up and stretched. 'May as well try to get an empty carriage,' he thought. He had pulled on his school robes while Lupin was sleeping. He was a very heavy sleeper, as Harry had discovered in his third year on the Hogwarts Express. [Jennifer, or was it Laura, I actually don't think he was faking it, but that's besides the point.] He left the compartment, walked down the corridor, opened a door at the end and blinked as bright sunlight assaulted his eyes. He was making his way to the carriages when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find himself face to face with Rubeus Hagrid.
"'Lo, Harry," he warmly, smiling down at him.
"Hi, Hagrid!" said Harry , trying to sound enthusiastic, but not succeeding.
"You all right?"
"Sure."
"Yer positive?"
Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Absolutely."
At precisely that moment, a swarm of chattering students poured out of the Hogwarts Express.
"See ye at the feast," Hagrid said, turning his attention to the first years. "Firs' years over here!" he bellowed. Harry smiled sadly, recalling when he had first heard those words. He had been so carefree then, so ignorant of the evil that crouched waiting for him. Well, they do say that ignorance is bliss, he thought sarcastically. He opened the door of the first carriage and upon seeing that it was empty, climbed in. He basking in the solitude. This was the first comfortable silence he'd had for nearly a year. Most of the time during the Triwizard Tournament that he spent on his own was cluttered with thoughts about the next task, or his fight with Ron, or, (during the summer) Voldemort. He sat, intent on keeping his mind trained on nothing. It was quite pleasant, really, to not think about anything. His eyes were open, but unseeing. He looked at the wall of the carriage without really seeing it, knowing that it was made of wood, but not letting his mind think or tell him that.
A loud creak interrupted his reverie. Harry's frame tensed. The door yawned open, and an all-too familiar figure entered. Draco Malfoy. He looked swiftly at Harry, then left the carriage immediately, and Harry had just relaxed when he came back in, this time with much more conviction and flanked by his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. They sat confidently down across from Harry, taking up the entire bench on the other side, Malfoy sandwiched between them.
"So," Malfoy began, "Here we have Potty. And where Potty goes, there is always a Weasel. So, if Potty is here, Weasel should be here. But Weasel is not. Where could Weasel be?" he said, the innocent tone he took not completely disguising the underlying harsh, scathing tone; the prized indifference and cruelty which the Malfoy family prized so highly and took such measures to preserve from generation to generation.
He's just trying to get a rise out of me, I won't let him, Harry thought furiously.
"Oh, that's right!" said Malfoy, acting as if the answer had just come to him. "Weasel's DEAD! Wait, what was that Daddy said?" He paused, index finger stroking his chin reflectively. "Potter KILLED him!"
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed in unison. "I heard his death was long and slow, Potter. And a little bird told me that if you're not careful, your greasy little Mudblood friend, Granger, she'll go the same way sooner than later…But don't worry, she'll have Diggory and Weasley to keep her company-" His next words were cut off as a jet of bright light hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Malfoy looked up and saw the cold, hard disgust in Potter's eyes, and he was afraid. Here was power. More power than Potter knew he had. Power that the Dark Lord wanted. Oh, his master had warned him to be careful, not to let Potter knew where his loyalties lay…And not to do anything rash, for Potter could hurt him, he who could potentially be the Dark Lord's most useful (although not only) spy at Hogwarts. These abilities had to remain dormant. Voldemort had to force Potter to channel these into Dark energy, that he could use to extend his reach over the countries of the world, and dominate all, both wizard and Muggle.
Harry fumbled in his pockets and brought out his wand. He pointed it at Malfoy, anger as he had never before felt clouding his thoughts and threatening to over-power him, to spill out, beyond his control. He wanted to lash out in frustration, but managed to restrain himself. "Shut up, Malfoy," he whispered dangerously, breathing hard.
"You wouldn't-" he stuttered nervously.
Harry forced his lips into a pained grin. "Care to find out?" he asked, wand hand steady.
"Goyle, Crabbe, let's go." The two larger boys lumbered out of the carriage, and Malfoy turned to leave, but then spun around. "This isn't the end, Potter, make no mistake."
"Oh, that's right!" exclaimed Harry, before he could stop himself. "Go running to Voldemort!"
He knows, Malfoy thought in alarm. But how? He left the carriage immediately.
As soon as they were gone, Harry buried his face in his hands. What the hell had he done? It couldn't be good. Knowing Malfoy, he'd have Snape on him like a shot. "I'm in deep shit," he said out loud. He had obviously done magic, but he hadn't been using his wand. How had he done it? His musings ended as the carriage rattled to a halt. He got out slowly, praying that Snape wouldn't-
"Potter," said a cold voice. Snape's.
Harry's heart sank. Damn. He looked up hopelessly. Snape looked even more sour than usual.
"Come with me," he ordered. He turned around without making sure that Harry was following.
Harry went after him without protest, figuring that he would only get in trouble if he fought. Harry marched dutifully behind him down to the dungeons, and followed him into Snape's office. "Sit," he said, pointing to the same chair Harry had sat in after Snape had caught him going into Hogsmeade. Harry sat.
"So," said Snape staring at him with his fathomless black eyes. Harry was strongly reminded of when Uncle Vernon had received Mrs. Weasley's letter inviting him to the Quidditch World Cup. "Mr. Malfoy has informed me that you hit him with a curse."
"You'll have a job proving that, won't you?" asked Harry innocently.
"There are three eyewitnesses."
"So basically you're saying it's their word against mine, right?"
"There's a way to find out the last spell a wand performed."
"I won't deny I hit him with something," said Harry quietly. "I haven't the faintest idea what it was, but I didn't use a wand." As these final words left his lips, he noticed Snape's face go a tinge paler, and a strange look settle over his face: One of mingled terror and awe. Harry was bewildered. What was going on here?
"Did you use an incantaion?"
"No."
"Never mind then. The feast should just be starting. You are dismissed."
Harry left Snape's office and went up several flights of stairs before finally arriving at the Great Hall. The whole way, he wondered why Snape had been so easy on him. He was about to open the door when Professor McGonagall came out holding the Sorting Hat and a stool. "There you are, Potter," she said, relief evident in her voice. "We were beginning to get worried. Where on Earth were you?"
"Snape's office," Harry replied, hoping that she wouldn't chew him out.
"Ah. I understand that you had a dispute with Mr. Malfoy," she said in a disapproving tone.
"One might call it that."
"I'll be expecting an explanation after class tomorrow. Go into the feast, it's just starting.
Wow, they're nice today. Better enjoy it while it lasts. Harry silently entered the Great Hall and took a seat next to Neville, aware that the usual bright talk that had been present at the Gryffindor table before his arrival was suddenly absent, and that everyone seemed to be looking at him. After a few seconds, however, a bubble of nervous chatter broke out. Harry surveyed the High Table quickly. All of the teachers were there, with the exception of Snape. Lupin caught his eye, and smiled encouragingly.
Dumbledore stood up, and immediately silence fell over the hall. "Welcome!" he said, his piercing blue eyes roaming the hall. "Lord Voldemort's return to power and the events that took place last year in the conclusion of the third task have prompted the staff to enforce more precautions to ensure your safety. Dinner will be held an hour earlier, and to compensate for this, classes will also begin earlier than usual. All students must be in their common rooms by nine o'clock, and students will not be permitted in the hallways during classes without a pass from their teacher. The Forbidden Forest is just that: forbidden." Here Dumbledore looked sharply at the Weasley twins, who sat up indignantly, amid many giggle from the girls sitting around them. As the laughter echoed throughout the Great Hall, Dumbledore met Harry's gaze. "No one will go in, and if someone does, the chances they will get out are very slim. However, when and if they get out, they will not get off easily. Any offenses that, in previous years, were punished with detentions, this year will be penalized with owls home. Expulsion will no longer be a threat, but a reality for certain people if they continue to break rules. On a happier note, I would like to announce that after a year of absence, Quidditch matches will be back on, although games and practices will not be continued after dark. A teacher must also agree to oversee all practice sessions. I also believe that all of the Quidditch teams are lacking captains? This issue will be decided amongst the house heads and remaining members of the teams from previous years. I am also happy to welcome back Professor Lupin to the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. I believe that's all! Enjoy the feast." He sat back down, and food appeared on their plates.
Harry took only a little food, he wasn't very hungry at the moment. He was still a bit perplexed about Snape's behavior, and he was amazingly confused about Necromancy. Since the encounter on the train, he had been feeling very drained, and he felt as though he were about to fall asleep on his feet.
"How was your summer, Harry?" asked Neville.
"It was fine," said Harry shortly. "How was yours?"
"Gran was a bit uptight, but otherwise quite fun. I managed to get on a broomstick without falling off!"
"Congratulations!" Harry said kindly.
"Yeah, it was really exciting! Flying is great!"
"It is," agreed Harry.
Neville went through the process of telling everyone else how much he loved flying. Dean Thomas suggested that he try out for the Quidditch team. Neville received this very enthusiastically. "D'you think I could?" he squeaked excitedly.
"Oh, absolutely, Neville! But I think you should ask Harry about that. He's pretty quiet, isn't he?"
"What?" asked Harry. He had been thinking about Necromancy and Nicholas Flamel, and trying not to fall asleep.
"D'you think Neville could make the Quidditch team."
"I dunno. It depends on the captain, competition, and position availability. I'm not sure how the selection works…"
"Oh, I definitely wont make it…" moaned Neville in despair.
Harry had finished his food by this time, and was sitting quietly staring into space. Could Voldemort profit from Necromancy? He pondered this, aware of the furtive glances being shot in his direction from down the table, more specifically, Fred and George's direction. After what seemed an eternity, Dumbledore at last announced the end of the feast.
Harry followed the other students up to the common room. Someone gave the Fat Lady the password ("Phoenix feather") and she swung open. He was halfway up the spiral staircase to the dormitory, but a loud voice cause him to turn around.
"Harry!"
He saw Seamus Finnigan hurrying towards him.
"Hey, Seamus," said Harry.
"Come sit with us a bit!"
"No thanks, I'm really tired." And he was.
"Well, okay," said Seamus doubtfully. "'Night."
"'Night."
Harry got into the dorm, and practically fell into his bed. He fell asleep immediately.
AN: That was longer than some, yayness. Thanks once again to my marvelous beta
readers, MM, you get to have it next!!! None of this belongs to me, of course, cheesecake forever!!! Coqui the
Mighty Frog ~_^
