Chapter 27
Smile for Me
Harry laid down and shut his eyes. Fighting it was he? No more. There was nothing he could think he wanted more. How could he fight, even unconsciously, his heart's desire?
"You will do fine, Harry, jussst relax."
"I'm trying, but how would you feel if you knew that your dead father was going to contact you in your sleep?"
"Hold still."
He felt it, Sally changing his emotions again. Suddenly, he was relaxed. "Should you really be doing that?" he mumbled, sleep was about to take over. He was so tired.
"No, not really. I won't let anybody wake you. Go to sssle-" Harry never heard her finish the word.
Suddenly he was in the Great Hall. Harry didn't feel like himself. He was vaguely aware that he was dreaming, but it didn't bother him.
It was midnight at least, but the entire student body sat at the house tables. Harry didn't recognize them. A small table was pushed up against the wall. At it sat Snape, looking older and staring at something he held in his hand. Beside the table, against the wall, leaned a person that Harry didn't recognize. He stood with his arms folded, silvery hair in his eyes, and the worry didn't look right on his face.
Harry was pacing, and then he sat down in his chair beside Snape. In only a moment he stood and started pacing again. He heard the door behind him open. His heart flew into his throat as he whipped around.
The world around him dissolved away. Coming through the door was a person who looked too much like Harry for his comfort. The heart that had flown into his throat suddenly plummeted down to the bottom of his stomach.
James walked silently forward, stopping a few feet short of where Harry stood. Harry looked up to meet those warm brown eyes, and felt his knees give out. He sat abruptly on the floor, and couldn't find the strength to stand again. He watched through misted eyes as James sat down cross-legged in front of him. James smiled again, and Harry felt the warm tears running down his cheeks.
'Say something, please say something,' Harry thought to himself. Words would not ever describe what he felt at that moment.
"Hello, Harry."
He had heard that voice before. Shouting for his mother to run. Shouting for her to save him. "No matter how much I want to, Harry, I can not sit here all night."
Harry didn't reply. Instead he pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at his father. He wanted nothing more then to sit there and stare forever.
"I don't know what happens if I touch you," James said with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "What do you say we find out? Lily said not to, but that's never stopped me before."
Slowly, still half hiding behind his knees, Harry reached out. James reached up and grabbed his hand. It was an unusual feeling. There was no heat, no feel of skin, only pressure where his father's hand was. Harry pulled back as if burned.
James' face was concerned. "It didn't hurt did it? I didn't mean to hurt you."
Harry didn't respond for a moment, and then as fast as lightning, rushed to his father. James only had time for a surprised "umpf" as Harry landed on him. Harry curled up on his lap, and began to sob. James smiled slightly, holding Harry and speaking softly to him as though he were a fussing baby.
It took a while for Harry to cry himself out, but James waited patiently. When he was silent, James helped him sit up. "Come on, let me look at you. Well, I did curse you with that hair, but at least you got you mother's eyes. I loved her eyes. Now let me see you smile."
Harry tried to smile as best he could. "That's not a smile, come on. Don't make me tickle you. If you are just like me, I know where you're ticklish." Harry smiled, trying to guard his sides from James. "There we are, yes, you have my smile too. It's a good thing your father is so damn good looking or you would be out of luck."
Harry laughed very slightly. "Sirius said you were always full of yourself."
"Did he now, well he's one to talk. He teased every thing that had pretty eyes and legs. One of his favorite games was to make Heather blush. The only person who didn't let him get away with it was Lily."
Harry pulled away so he was no longer touching James. The sensation of pressure with no feeling was getting to him. Suddenly, he seemed to remember why they were there. "You have to tell me something. What is it?"
"Oh, right, that. Okay, how do I start this one?"
James suddenly started to become misty. "SHIT! Harry, listen quick. Find my journals, it's all in there. The lion statue, you have to let it test your blood. You have to let-" He was fading, and his voice too.
"I love you dad!" Harry interrupted him.
James stopped and smiled. "I love you too Har-"
He was gone, and Harry felt like he was falling. He sat up with a gasp, to see Ron standing over him. "You were thrashing around, and when I went to wake you, your snake tried to bite me," Ron explained.
Harry sucked a gulp of air he hadn't realized he had been denying himself until his lungs hurt. "Sal, Ginny." He didn't realize it had been in English.
"On her way." At that moment the door opened.
"Ginny!" Ron hissed. "What are you doing in here?"
Ginny gave him a glare that could have frozen fire. Then she turned her eyes on Harry and Sally. It was dawning on Harry what had really just happened, and although he may have cried himself out where ever his dream had taken place, he hadn't here, and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes.
Ginny must have seen them. She walked over and sat down on Harry's bed. "Go back to sleep Ron."
"What? No way!"
"Do it, Ron," Harry said, his voice hoarse. Harry kept his head down, but Ron saw the drops of water hitting the blanket.
"Take care of him, Ginny." Ron pulled the hangings closed to Harry's bed and walked back to his own. 'A year off my ass.'
Ginny placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Tell me about it."
"All I found out was that everything was in his journals. He said that I had to find the lion statue and let it, I think he said test the blood. I wasted most of our time crying. It's all my fault."
"Shush, nonsense. It's alright." He hid his face in the blankets. "Come on, smile for me."
Harry jerked up and peered at her through shining green eyes. Ginny reached out and wiped a tear from his cheek, then blushed and hoped he didn't notice.
"You should go, you don't want to be caught in here. Go."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," he said laying down and turning his back to her. "Hurry, before somebody wakes up."
Biting her lip, Ginny left the room. 'Stay strong, girl. You are the shoulder for him to lean on.'
The week that followed that one was the most exhausting weeks Ginny had ever had. Nightly Sally was calling her though their bond to wake Harry from a nightmare. Ginny felt that James was trying to come through again, and Harry was fighting it with all he had, no matter how much he denied it. 'James, let him be. I'll figure it out with what we have.'
Ginny intended to keep to that promise. When the Hogsmeade trip on Sunday came around, Ginny claimed to be feeling under the weather. In her opinion, it worked the best for everyone. Harry got to get away from everything and fly, even if he was hardly able to keep his eyes open. Hermione had a chance to be alone with Ron. And Ginny had a chance to do some research without raising suspicion.
Checking out several books on the founding of Hogwarts, she went back to the common room and settled into a seat by the fire.
Helga Hufflepuff-
Born in what is now known as France, Helga showed signs of great talent early on in life. She was recorded when young to plant a seed and then sit there and watch it. By sunset the plant would have sprouted and began to flower...
Patiently, Ginny read through, looking for anything useful. She found various hints about Helga's ability with the inner eye, but nothing important. Suddenly, a page caught her eye.
However, only five years after the school was running, Helga performed an act which burned all of her magical ability out of her. This is known to many as Helga's Last Act, which is a tale surrounded in rumor. However, after the loss of her magic, Helga tended to adopt children with little magical talent into her house, having a pity for them that nobody else could understand.
With a sigh, Ginny put the book down and picked up the next. But before she discovered much, she fell asleep on it. Jerking awake to the sound of voices, she quickly gather her books up and rushed them upstairs. Shoving them under her bed, she fell onto her bed, and this time fell asleep in earnest.
As the next few days crawled by, Harry did his best to take it with his head held high. After a while, he didn't have to act, and he actually did feel better. But when the list came around for who was signing up to stay for Christmas, Harry was surprised. December had sneaked up on him.
At the top of the list, there was a note written in Heather's handwriting. The Christmas dance is to be held the day before the students leave, so those of you who go home do not need to miss it.
The notice came as a reality check to Harry. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had visited Heather, or Hagrid for that matter. Writing them a note, he asked if they could all meet for lunch. An afternoon with friends might do him some good.
After his visit with James, it had been hard to take everything in stride. He had worked hard at it, but still his mind seemed to be on one track. It always went back to that meeting. He hadn't started looking for any lion statue or journals, even though a little voice in the back of his head whispered to him.
'Why. This is the answer to the question of Why. This is how they are all connected. Don't you want to know?'
'What if I don't?' He answered the voice. 'There's no reason it can't wait until after Christmas anyway. If I've gone this long, I can wait a little longer.'
The day of the planed meeting, the first snow fell on the Hogwarts ground. The walked toward Hagrid's cabin slowly. Grinning to himself, Harry reached down and picked up a handful of snow. Rolling it into a ball, he launched it at the back of Ginny's head.
Ginny felt the wet cold hit her, and jumped. She jerked around to see Harry grinning sheepishly. "Oh, you better move, Potter, because I am going to make you regret the day you were born."
With a smirk, Harry took off at a run for Hagrid's. Grabbing some snow, Ginny ran after him. He knocked quickly on Hagrid's door, and she threw her weapon. At that moment the door opened, and the snowball hit Hagrid smack on the face.
Ginny's hands flew up to hide her mouth. Harry looked up at Hagrid's face which was now soaked. "Do you want to get her or should I?"
"Don yeh worry, Harry, I'll get 'er."
"Heather! Help they're teaming up against me!"
Heather ran to the door and out into the snow. "This means WAR! Girls against boys!" A huge black dog bounded out of the cabin, and joined right in.
"Sparky! We need a big strong dog to protect us!" Ginny shouted.
Giving her what could only be identified as a smirk, Sirius in dog form slinked towards her.
"Traitor!" Harry shouted from behind the barrier of snow that he, Ron, and Hagrid had hastily constructed.
Sirius stopped, and looked back and forth between the sides as though unsure which to pick. Turning his back on the girls, though they couldn't see it, he winked at the boys, then turned back to face the girls.
He bent over and filled his mouth with snow. Then took off at a run toward Heather. She screamed and he pushed her over and sat on her, then started laughing as he started to lick her face.
"Get off of me, you great lump! Your tongue is freezing!" The boys on the other side of the battle field were rolling on the ground laughing.
Heather finally succeeded in pushing Sirius off of her, though it had more to do with Sirius moving then her actually pushing him. "You back-stabbing sneak."
The dog panted, and then winked. Filling his mouth with snow again, he suddenly took off with amazing speed at Harry. Ginny had to lean against Hermione to keep her up she was laughing so hard. When Sirius moved back into the middle of the battle field, Heather stood. "Forget boys against girls, it's all against dog!"
Sirius only had time for a grin at Heather before he was being covered with snowballs from every direction.
The hour that followed was very cold and wet. When they finally arrived in Hagrid's cabin, cups of steaming tea was pushed in everybody's hands. The windows were blackened with a charm by Heather, and Sirius transformed into his real form. Using a towel that Hagrid threw at him, he began to vigorously dry is dripping hair.
Just as Harry was about to point out that they were a chair short, Sirus walked over to Heather. Picking her up easily, he sat down on his chair and set her back down on his lap. Hermione and Ron looked startled, but Harry and Ginny just looked at each other and smiled.
"Sirius, you are wet from head to toe."
"Serves you right, for declaring war of me."
"You licked my face, you mutt!"
"And you tasted so good."
Ginny snorted into her tea as Heather's face turned red. Sirius winked at her. 'It really isn't fair that a person can be that sexy. I don't know how Heather puts up with it.'
"His favorite game was to make Heather blush." Harry said, smiling slightly.
Sirius looked at him oddly. "Who told you that?"
Harry smiled to himself but didn't reply. Ginny thought she had a pretty good idea who had told him that. It was a sign how much better Harry was getting that he could smile about it.
"Yes well, blush or not he is getting me wet." Picking up her wand and muttering a spell, Heather hit Sirius on the head with it, a little harder the necessary.
"So," Hagrid said falling into his chair with a loud 'thunk'. "Yeh all done yer Christmas shoo-in' yet?"
"I am," Ron said with a smile, his hand flying to his pocket. He carried that little box around with him where ever he went. If it was getting on Ginny's nerves, she could only imagine what it was doing to Hermione.
"So am I," Hermione replied.
Harry grinned to himself. "My last one came in last week."
Ginny bit her lip. One of her presents would never be done, but that was it's purpose. She hoped they liked what she had gotten them. She was rather proud of the one she had found for Heather and Sirius. Completely by chance she had stumbled onto it.
"I'm not," Sirius groaned. "I hate shopping."
"You hate shopping! All you do is trot beside me, I do all the work."
Sirius mouthed wordlessly behind her back. He was quite surprised when Heather's hand connected soundly with his right cheek.
Harry shook his head, rubbing his own cheek in remembrance of a similar slap. "Don't even try, Sirius. I don't know how they do it either." He glanced at Ginny, who responded by sticking her tongue out at him.
"Careful, Rose," Heather said. "If you do that to often he may bite it off." Behind her Sirius stuck his tongue out and started to wave it around. This time it was his left cheek that he was rubbing.
"You will have to learn Sirius, they have eyes in the backs of their heads. That's what my mom always said when I was little, and she proved it true to many times for my liking."
"Yeah, Pawn, and your bottom was always red for a week after." They laughed at his grimace.
They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, laughing. For the most part conversation always avoided unpleasant topics, unless tales from Sirius and Heather's days at school could be counted as such, as they always involved Lily and James. However, Harry was the one to laugh hardest when Heather told the tale of the camping trip in the back of Lily's yard.
Ginny took note of the way Sirius' arms snaked around Heather's waist and she leaned back into him. Catching Harry's eye, she made a meaningful glance in their direction. Harry looked over and grinned.
Needless to say, it was with light hearts and wide smiles that they started back to the castle.
"Who wants to bet on how long it will take for Heather and Sirius to get together?" Ginny asked as they walked across the grounds.
"I give it two more months," Hermione said with a glance back at the cabin.
"What?" Ron asked. "Heather and Sirius?"
"Your a blind wool-brained idiot, Pawn," Hermione said shaking her head.
"I agree with Books, what do you think Harry?"
"Christmas."
"No, not that quickly. It's three weeks away," said Hermione.
"No really I do."
"Would somebody tell me when this started?"
His chair was carved from the largest tree in the forest. Snakes had been carved into it. Gems had been set as the snakes eyes. They wound in and out of each other, biting parts of snakes. Whether they were biting a different snake or themselves was hard to tell, and he really had better things to do then figure it out. It really was a nice chair, and that was the only reason he didn't smash it in his fury. How dare this man question anything he did?
"I want another Wormtail." It was a personal revenge using the man's childhood nickname. It reminded him what had brought him here, how he had betrayed his friends. It kept him in line. "I shouldn't have to explain my reasoning to you, but I will do it for the sake of humoring you. I want another before the Hogwarts students go home for the holiday. Because knowing you, being the pitiful excuse for a man that you are, when I want" vaguely in the back of his mind he was aware that he had almost said need, and he had to show no weaknesses in front of his followers, no needs, "another during their brake, you will bring me back a Hogwarts student."
The man before him shook with fear. Man. It had been years since he himself could be called a man. He smiled at that thought, not noticing the way Peter cringed at his smile. There was a belief that was shared sometimes among his followers, when ever they desided to share anything. 'When the Dark lord smiles, your life flashes before your eyes. May the Dark Lord never smile for me.' It was true that Voldemort grinned when he killed. It wasn't the killing that made him smile, it was the pain that always accompanied killing by magic.
Voldemort lived on pain, be it in himself or another. Pain was nothing to be fought or run from. Pain was to be embraced, but it only worked for a well trained mind like his. That was what made it also a useful tool. These poor excuses for followers did not embrace pain, and that he used to his advantage.
He suddenly remembered the man before him. "Get out of my sight before I decide to give you what you deserve."
Voldemort settled back down in his chair. It really was a nice chair. It looked comfortable, but was not, and he of coarse enjoyed that. His glare swiped the men and now women also in front of him. He hated having them here, but it was required. It ate at him that he needed them. He never let them know that he needed them of coarse, that would ultimately lead to them attempting to use him. But he did, and even if he hated the fact, he put up with it.
As if to add to the sting of needing them at all, only half of them were here. Waiting patiently for him, waiting for him to rise again, was where the rest remained. They came one at a time, more then that would alert the fool who ran that damn school. And Potter.
He snarled at that thought. Potter. There was a bug which he wished to step on. He would have given up his chair to know how many of the men and women standing with him now wondered if maybe, just maybe, the Potter brat was better then him.
That was not the only reason he needed to eliminate him, and hardly the greatest, but it was another pebble in his shoe. Not painful, a pebble in your shoe, just annoying. There were a number of other pebbles. The fact that Potter had survived murder magic, that was annoying. Not the fact that he had survived, he himself would survive, he was no longer man enough to die like a normal man, but the fact that he had been a new born and survived.
'That power was not supposed to show up until he was grown. And it hasn't, it won't. He will be dead before it will.'
Dumbledore was another pebble. He would die, painfully. He had never learned to embrace pain. He was annoying, always helping Potter.
'Potter. Harry Potter. It always comes down to Potter. Not a pebble, but a boulder in front of me. He is all that stands between me and-'
"My lord?"
Voldemort snarled at the man who dared to interrupt his thoughts.
As they listened to 'Wormtail' being yelled at by the Dark Lord, unease swept through the followers at the mention of Hogwarts. Many of them had eyes at Hogwarts, or children. The Dark Lord didn't know that both Potter and Dumbledore were very aware of him. Or at least, the Dark Lord acted like he didn't. How was it their place to tell him, when he knew? He must have known, he was the Dark Lord, was he not? He must have also known a student had already been taken from the school. They had no place to interrupt him in his plans. He was the Dark Lord. If he was pretending to not know, then he had a reason to pretend.
When finished with the man, Voldemort pointed his wand at the ground in front of him. It burst into flame, and he glared at the wand. Oh how he hated that wand. He had always hated it,the fact that he needed it.
There was another reason he wanted another person to drain quickly. It was eating at him, that he was not yet powerful enough to kill with magic. That he could not yet experience that pain again. Dark magic always involved pain on the user, that was what made it dark.
'I could do it yes, but it would take too much power and I would have to start collecting it again. What would the world do if they realized that it didn't matter what power you were born with, that you could collect more? Probably nothing. Fools. They will see, I will show them. I will rule, and they will see, that it takes only a mind to lead the world. No matter where you start from.'
Voldemort suddenly had a flashback of where he had started from. He shook at the memory, snarled at the thought. Oh, how the Muggles would pay. They would learn that they could not do that to the Lord of the Dark.
If only he dared to contact his follower in Hogwarts. He hated them all, but that had been one man that he had hated less. Driven by hate just as much as he, and he could embrace the pain. That was what made him better then the rest. True, it made him more dangerous, he could turn if he wanted too, but he was driven by hate, so he would not turn.
He called another one of his men to him, and gave him a person to go to. Time to bring more followers in.
Draco stared at the letter that had arrived in the dead of night. Stared, and then in one quick movement, ripped it open.
Draco-
I am very pleased with your astounding progress in school, and am proud that my son would progress so quickly at such a young age. We have been contacted by a very important friend of the family. I am going to visit him very soon, and I will tell him of your accomplishments. He will be just as pleased as I am, I'm sure. I merely hope that you are prepared to live up to the standards you have set for yourself. I will be disappointed if you do not, but I try not to wish for impossible goals. Do your best.
-Your Father
That was what the letter said, but Draco knew what the letter meant.
Draco, my only heir-
I can not believe that you would form a plan to ensnare Potter, and I am proud that you have done so with the intellect you have now. Voldemort has contacted us, and I am going to worship at his feet as soon as I finish this letter. I will let him know that you are getting close enough to Potter to spy in hopes that it will make him like me more. He will be happy that you have done this, I hope, for your own good. You better be willing to do the spying now that you said you would. If you don't, a beating waits for you. However it is not your fault if Potter will not give up any information, and I will tell Voldemort so he doesn't expect more then you are able to give. More then a beating is waiting for you if you disappoint the Dark Lord.
I don't sign with love because love is a weakness.
-The man who controls you life.
He glared at the letter, then sighed. Well, he had chosen sides now, and this was what it was going to be like. Being a spy was going to be harder then he thought. He would have to find a way to get closer, but he had to do it slowly. If anybody suspected him, then he would be of no use.