J.K. Rowling dreamed up the plot
For the books, Bloomsbury bought the lot
Warner Bros owns it all for the big screen
I'm just in for fun, so suing would be mean!
Andolyn
26. A Tale Retold
Plop!
The little white pebble dropped into the lake with a dull, wet, well, -plop-.
Harry laughed.
"You're throwing like a girl!"
"I -am- a girl!" Ari gave back with indignation.
Harry let his flat grey stone fly. It skipped the water and went under and over at least three times before Ari lost sight of it.
The air was thick with the promise of thunder. Clouds hung low with a greenish sheen over their matted grey countenance. There was a sleight breeze and it would be dark before it would be noon.
Ari had been away from the real world for over a week now. If she'd been home, her own classes would have stopped for a while. She had had plans to go to Greece. She'd never been to Greece. After meeting the Centaur yesterday-evening, she was somehow less disappointed with not being able to go to Greece. Greece and its magic had come to her.
It had been a bit of a struggle with Poppy Pomfrey to be released that morning. But Ari had promised the mediwitch she was fine! She had nearly jumped out of the bed, bent over and touched her toes to show she was springy and fit, -not- showing she nearly keeled over with nausea the moment the mediwitch turned her back.
Ari had no difficulty with being sick- It was merely a fact of life that one would encounter the condition every once in a while. But she hated being fussed over.
Ari had been well in time for breakfast, since it had been set up two hours later than usual. Everybody had gone to bed only after Ari had been found, and that had been late. Snape seemed somewhat drawn and groggy and nobody dared speak to him until he had at least gulped down one mug of -very- dark tea. No sugar, not surprisingly. He had gone over to the other side of the table to sit as far from Ari as he could and sometimes glared at her ominously. But the hunger in those dark eyes he tried to hide from the others, would evidently not be satisfied with his morning tea or the kippers he shoved in absentmindedly.
Ari had learned by now the old Auror Moody had no difficulty with getting up bright and early, he merely had a problem with being civil. Black and Harry however, were annoyingly chipper. Black chatted happily away to Ari, only shutting up for a rather stretched moment, when she asked him how the bum felt. Harry chuckled and eyed Snape, who was definitely -not- looking in their direction.
And Remus only played with his food, apparently trying to hide a private worry. Dumbledore glanced a moment at the werewolf.
"Severus, have you-"
"Already taken care of, Headmaster."
Lupin shuddered. "I do hope you've been able to do something about that ghastly taste!"
Snape shrugged and merely stated an indifferent "No.", without lapsing into further conversation. Harry snapped his fingers.
"I forgot. Full moon in two nights."
McGonagall frowned. "Now don't let Professor Sinistra hear you say a thing like that."
Ari followed the conversation with large eyes, but refrained from giving comment. The land of magic knew many a tale and her little story within it was only just beginning to find its voice. It would not do to leap into those of others without being invited. So she took to her cheese and her cheek, and pocketed the knowledge that Lupin needed Snape to supply him with a brew everybody else knew about.
For the rest of breakfast, Lupin seemed to have found his appetite back, and McGonagall smiled mysteriously into her porridge. Dumbledore kindly asked the Deputy Headmistress what she was up to, but with a sleight frown and an 'Oh Albus, it's nothing. Really!' in thick Scottish brogue, she apparently told him to mind his own business. He kept throwing her somewhat amused sideways glances.
When Lupin, Snuffles and Fang had left, Ari asked Harry if he would show her something more of the grounds. They had to talk privately as well, since that afternoon that reporter would come. They strolled idly to the lake instead.
Again, Ari's pebble hit the water with a dull sound and lazy circles widened mockingly.
"So, who is Professor Sinistra?"
"Astrology teacher." Harry answered, looking for more pebbles.
"Astrology? What's your sign?"
Harry looked up, a bit surprised. In Ari's group of friends, the question had become normal, impersonal even. Something to start a conversation with. Although one of those friends, who chose to call herself 'practical' and 'down-to-earth', usually named herself a 'duck'. Ari wondered what that practical friend would make of Harry & co.
Harry stared over the lake, pebble in hand, thinking. Was the question too personal for him, Ari wondered? Or was it simply bewilderment because nobody had ever shown interest?
The boy shrugged.
"I'm a Leo."
And he let fly away the next flat stone.
"Should have known- A lion in Griffindor."
Harry grinned.
"It's your birthday soon, then?"
"Not just yet. Almost three weeks." The boy sighed, wearily smiling and apparently looking forward to it. Perhaps McGonagal could give her an idea for a present. Or Remus- But if she asked him, she might be involving Black- And she did not wanted to do that. Having Severus think about a present for the boy seemed such a joke, she might involve the man just to see him lift those brows again, silently confirming she'd gone mad. Ari chuckled a little at the thought, and was almost startled with Harry's question.
"So, what's yours?"
Focussing on the moment and the boy who was ready to let yet another pebble fly, she answered.
"Scorpio."
Harry stopped in mid-movement and turned with an incredulous smile on his face.
"Really?"
"Yes really. What?"
"Well- its just- Professor Snape is a Scorpio. You see, Professor Trelawny, our diviniation teacher, made sure we knew what our professors are to motivate us for her lessons. She thought we would pay more attention." The boy smiled faintly. "It even worked a bit for me, until some of the girls started to predict a disgustingly fluffy romance between Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey! Diviniation is crap."
Ari shook her head.
"So, I'm nothing like big bad Snape now, am I- Considering the little feud you two seem to be nursing, I'll take that as a compliment."
Harry harrumphed. "Big -bat- Snape! He's never kind, he's always seems so cold. But you have to see him when he's truly mad- He can really explode you know. It's even a bit funny, when you're -not- on the receiving end, that is. His face gets all screwed up and he spits."
Ari rubbed her chin. "Yes, I know. And you know something else? Apart from the spitting, it sounds like something I could do. Being really calm one moment and then suddenly go off like a firecracker."
"He resented my father. And now he hates me."
"Why?"
"A school thing. Slytherin and Griffindor have always bullied each other. Snape and my father played pranks on each other."
Harry threw his little stone. Up and over, down and up, only two times this time and the boy voiced his disappointment, forgot it instantly and stared down for another flat pebble. Ari sensed there was more to this story, again, than Harry wanted to tell. Probably because there were others involved and Harry did not seem one to gossip. She also noted that in spite of the boy's dislikes, he would not blame Snape solely for the animosity, over his father. There was wisdom in that- but not the kind of wisdom a pebble throwing fourteen year old should know of.
"But he still came through for you."
Harry sighed . "It's difficult, you know. People are almost never what they seem. Snape has always been such a rotten bastard- But I wonder how I would be if I'd been where he has been- He's our spy and almost always in danger and that must get on his nerves a lot- I just wish he would not take it out on the rest of the world-"
Harry threw, but rather uncontrolled this time. The small stone flew a lot further than the others had gone and disappeared immediately.
"-or on me!"
"Well, I-"
But Ari did not get the chance to finish, for Harry jumped at her and pushed her out of the way.
"Watch out!"
Suddenly it rained wet mud covered pebbles from the lake. Holding their hands above their heads, Ari and Harry ran away fast. Out of reach they turned to a terrible offending screeching voice. It belonged to an infuriated creature with a grey skin and wild dark green hair, angrily rubbing its forehead. The being shook a fist at them and vanished under water.
"What the hell!"
"Merpeople," said Harry. "Seems we hit one."
"Seems they don't like that very much."
"O, they are kind of nice- although I could not recommend a visit."
A small ghost and a giant squid, the Baron and the Washerwomen. Harry and the Merpeople. Those of the land and water did nor seem to mingle well around here.
A lion, a raven, a snake and a badger. Not the traditional elemental tokens, but they could translate roughly in fire, air, water and earth. Drive, logic, emotion and matter.
"You understood what it said?", Ari asked the lion's cub. No longer such a small cub, but not a king either.
Not yet.
"No, but I'm sure I'd lose house points if I'd ever repeated it in plain English."
"Speaking about some plain English- We have a story to tell."
So they flopped down on the grass and Ari told Harry what she had discussed with Dumbledore. That they should omit Snape's role, and for the rest not stray al that much from what had happened. They sat and talked until somewhere above the mountain range behind the Quidditch pitch thunder rumbled and the first large droplets chased them inside
Walter Gates arrived in the middle of the thunderstorm, crackling with electricity and explaining his keep-dry spell had attracted a few bolts of lightning when walking from Hogwarth's gates to the castle. He was a dumpy forty something, had short cropped dark blond curls and dressed down in conservative mud brown robes.
Yet the eyes were remarkable. So light in their grey they were almost white, shot through with silver and extremely penetrating. He started of the interview with offering Harry his hand and his condolences. The boy took the hand somewhat awkwardly, and thanked him.
They sat in Dubledore's sitting, with only the Headmaster's pet bird listening in on them from the other room. The coffee table had disappeared under the pastry's, tarts and other delights the house elves had heaped upon it. Gates eyed the food longingly, yet took very little. Neither did Harry. It still thundered outside.
"Well Harry, I believe you've hade the, -er, -pleasure- of meeting one of my -er, well, for lack of words, -colleagues- before?"
Harry's eyes narrowed somewhat and his chin came up.
"You could call it that."
"I take it you also remember her Quick-Notes-Quill?"
From a thin briefcase Gates conjured a trunk-seize roll of parchment and a purple quill. Again, Harry frowned .
"Well, my dear boy, this one is -different-. You see, it only writes down what has been -said-. Do you have any objections?"
Harry shook his head.
"What is that?" Ari asked curiously. Gates put the quill upright on the parchment, where it waited impatiently and doodled a bit.
Harry shrugged.
"The wizard's version of a dictaphone."
"A what?" asked Gates.
Harry rolled is eyes. "A box to catch voices in that Muggles use instead of a Quick-Notes-Quill."
The journalist's eyebrows almost crawled of his face.
"But Muggles have no magic!"
Ari smiled. "No, but we do have the technology to sometimes approach magic quite nicely."
Gates nodded. "Same problem, different solutions. I understand. Do you have any objections?"
"None."
"Well then." He cocked his head towards the quill. "Are you listening?"
The quill stopped with his drawing of a rather fat chicken and jumped to attention. The parchment unwound itself a bit, until it's face was clear.
"Harry. The Crystal Review, the paper I am working for, is quite aware about what has been published about you, both last year and of late. There is a tendency in those articles, that, not so mildly spoken, cast doubt on your mental stability. Do you have any comment on that?"
Harry nodded grimly.
"There is a lot I could say about that. But if I did, I would mostly be saying things about the person that wrote them, and that won't help much. So I won't. Besides, people will only believe what I have to say about my scar, if they believe Voldemort has returned."
There was a screech from the parchment, a harsh blast of thunder outside, and the purple feather fluttered to the ground, doing a one legged hop to get away and hide under some cupboard. While Both Harry and Gates made a dive for the quill, Ari read what the thing had written. It was accurate to the last syllable, which was 'Vol' and then the thing had bolted.
While the man and the boy made some ruckus in catching the quill, and both made funny noises bumping into furniture that could not get out of the way in time, Ari saw no humour in the situation at all. When both wizards surfaced again, Harry nursing his elbow, Gates holding the struggling pen with both hands, she gave them a cold, hard look.
"You know, if even your animated -objects- are in fear of naming the foe, you wizards and my world are in deep trouble indeed!"
Gates nodded, took out his wand and bewitched the quill some further.
"Bravado!" he said. The quill fluffed out a bit and its pen seemed to thicken. When Gates put the quill on the parchment again, it finished the dictation in bold italics.
"Which is also the reason why people rather believe that the Boy-Who-Lived is both wretched and bonkers, instead of acing up to the fact that the terror might start all over again. Yesterday's children remember hiding under their beds when strangers, or even the milkman, came knocking. Many people, both guilty and completely innocent, are shunned by the righteous for bearing the scent of the Deatheaters, which is -not- good for the healing of our society. And a great number of people are branded, like Potter, with the irreparable loss of kin. We are scared! Unconsciously all of us -know- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named survived. Otherwise, why -would- we have come up with such silly names? For a dead man, we would not have. We know! And because we know, we do -not- wish to hear. But we must!" Grim he looked at the pair of them. "It is my duty- the duty of all of the press, to inform and open the eyes of the people, so they may ready themselves. But unfortunately, we have very little influence over people like Skeeter- Or the Daily Prophet for that matter. So, Harry, please just plainly tell me what happened to your family. I -do- understand how painful this must be for you- but please! And I'm afraid my readers have to draw their conclusions themselves. Even if this means that quite a few will suspect a few rogue dark wizards rather then resurrected Death Eaters!"
The man talked a lot, for one whose profession it supposedly was to mostly listen.
Now it was Harry's turn to throw the hard looks.
"Then you -already- believe he has rerurned!" Lightning took the opportunity to emphasise the words dramatically.
"With the floo network going out of commission? People disappearing all over the place? The Knightbus personnel vanishing? And our government denying it all? I remember how things started twenty five years ago, Harry. With the government telling us to be at peace and sleep easy! It was unthinkable another Grindelwald had risen, unthinkable one of our own was after our own. But it was, and it is. And last time round I was too young and naïve to see the signs of darkening times. But I've learned something along the way and it is about time all those of my generation remember as well! Yes, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived! You are a magnet to the dark one. You've made a fool of him. You did so when you've destroyed him, and if the rumours about the Tri-Wizard tournament are right, you've done it again and you've certainly done it now! So tell me, Harry, tell my readers, tell the -world- how a half trained wizard and a Muggle thwarted the Worst-of-the-Worst -again-!"
'And a Muggle'. Ari did not like the sound of that. Up to now, making enemies had consisted of giving a board member a piece of her mind, voicing her opinion during a meeting, telling the police officer -exactly- what he could do with her ticket.
Words. The quill mightier than the wand?
Hogwarts her safe haven. Thank god the school year had not even begun yet.
Harry's voice found a way into her pondering. Stiffly and impersonal, he again told the tale of that faithful night.
But the cupboard under the stairs had been altered into the loo down the hall. Harry's mental mistreatment at the hand of the Dursley family might be completely misunderstood and could easily take away the focus from the important facts. If people knew how they had been to the boy, people again might doubt his sanity from mental trauma, or accuse him of spoilt and bratty pleading for attention with Dumbledore.
Ari coming for Harry had been made up to be her first and only rescue that night, realising Harry's peril after she had seen what had happened to Dudley, totally forgoing Snape's peril, his heroism, and the Dementors.
Ari closed her eyes a moment.
A ball rolling over the street, that was no ball.
She took a deep breath and continued listening to Harry. But the piercing and grim eyes of the reporter flashed repeatedly over her.
After Harry's leap into Ari's car, she took over. She told of her surprise and horror at seeing what these dark robed and hooded people could do with their sticks that in truth were wands. She spoke of driving to Hogwarts, because Harry had asked her to.
Harry's scar and the pain of premonition -had- to be mentioned. Otherwise they would not have had a reason to abandon Ari's car. But both he and Ari backed the claim up with the destruction of the vehicle
A dark and frightful trek through a field followed. Harry told the reporter that from afar, they had seen the Dark Mark bloom over the car.
With some distance between the burning wreck and themselves, Harry had waved for the Knight Bus, but nobody had come for them. So a Muggle train was taken to the end of Ari's world. And there, with a long while still to go, Hedwig, Harry's very bright snowy owl the boy explained, had found them. Harry had sent note to Hogwarts they were coming. Muggle transport in the form of a normal bus, had taken the pair near Hogsmeade. Where a very anxious Groundskeeper had awaited them with a horseless carriage.
End of story.
Ari told of her amazement with the Magical community. She spoke of not daring to go home or contact her family. If she did, she would have to be obliviated- not something she looked forward to. Most inhabitants of Privet Drive had been exposed to that spell out of necessity. One more person would not have been a problem for the wizards who had performed that task.
But the people who had come after Harry knew her now, and that made her extremely vulnerable had she remained in the Muggle society. If her family had been informed of her whereabouts, the Wizarding Community would have been exposed to quite a large group of unsuspecting people and a lot of explanations would have to be given. A lot of powerless people would have been alarmed needlessly. With all contact severed, Ari hoped her family would not be taken vengeance upon. But out of fear of provoking just that, she did not voice the thought to the tirelessly scribbling quill.
Harry spoke of the Diggory family and their son Cedric, and how the boy died. He almost cracked from the strain, hands balled to fists, knuckles white, but refused to back out. Yes, he did realise the Ministry of Magic's official views upon the subject of his schoolmate's death, but no, it had -definitely- not been an accident. And Harry would swear to his story, even under the influence of Veritaserum!
Pale and horrified, Ari listened to Harry's account of the horrors he had seen. She had absolutely no idea how to react properly, apart from not even touching the boy of fear he would break down- Then again, Harry seemed distressed, certainly, but his never failing courage carried him and Ari noticed the boy-soldier was -angry-. Not afraid. Saddened, yes. Nervous? That too And very, very angry.
Gates concluded the interview, the moment Albus Dumbledore choose to re-enter his chambers. He ate humbugs and drank tea, talked about the weather with Gates and told a silly stories about the giant squid and the last time it thundered above the lake. Ari could not help but chuckle about them. Harry did not listen, but reread the notes on the interview -twice-, before giving his permission to have it printed.
Gates left, Harry's shoulders dropped and finally Ari gave in to her need to take the boy in a firm hug. Harry leant into it, muttered a muffled thanks and extracted himself, walking over to one of the windows, seeing nothing through the rain.
Ari sighed, long and deep.
"That," said the headmaster, "was altogether quite unpleasant. Would you two care to play some exploding snap?"
Harry's shoulders shook, but upon turning whatever the tremors had been, had turned into chuckles
"I didn't knew you played, Headmaster."
"Champion three years in a row, in my own schooldays ."
Harry approached the old man's desk.
"There were championships?"
Dumbledore shrugged, a faint smile on his lips and his eyes beaming with mirth.
"Well, not officially."
And while the headmaster retrieved a rather worse for wear deck of cards from his desk and instructed Harry to make piles of humbugs for stakes, Ari rose and shook her head in silent rejection to their invitation. She suddenly felt alone, but lonelier still in the company of kind strangers.
So she left the Headmasters office, took a moment to admire the brass knocker, a large soup-ladle today, descended the revolving spiral staircase, and finally came to the crack in the wall, decorated with intricate Celtic knots and the ever present Hogwarts coat of arms. There, she heard a smooth voice accuse the gargoyle on the other side of something to do with Scandinavian liquorice.
Severus. To her own astonishment, Ari felt her heart speed up and a lump in her throat, scolding herself for her girlish reaction to nothing more then his -voice-.
But o lord, the voice of that man, and his hands- Eyes-
Tight jeans-
Ari heard the gargoyle move aside and saw the gap in the wall open. But the split was to narrow to let two people go in and out the same instance. So she waited, distracted with her own thoughts. And did not step aside.
Snape burst in, nearly run her over, caught himself in mid stride and held himself up in the doorframe.
"Would you mind?" he asked rather testily.
"What?" Ari asked quite intelligently, feeling as if she was waking from some dream.
Snape hopped inside because the wall behind him closed up again. With flourish he crossed his arms in front of him, puckered his lips a little.
"Move aside!" he said. And with an afterthought he added a very insincere: "Please."
Ari did, in the narrow space between the stairs and the wall.
"I do hope you do not have anything urgent to discuss with the headmaster. He's in a very important meeting."
In that same narrow space Snape halted, turned and his cloak grazed Ari's front. His eyebrows went up, while he gathered the black material tightly around himself.
"With whom?"
"Harry."
The man rolled his eyes.
"And what is so terribly important about that?"
"Well, they are in the middle of something."
Another raised brow.
"I believe it is called 'Exploding Snap'.
A dry chuckle.
"Poor Potter. At least he cannot lose any wages yet."
"Pity for Potter?"
A little smile. "The Headmaster is unbeatable with silly games like that." He gazed up the stairs. "But still, I would very much like to know how that interview went."
"So you'll be asking the -Headmaster-" Ari said in mock disgust, that nevertheless did seem to reach the Potions Master.
"Er- yes?"
"Not Harry, not me- but somebody who was not there?"
"Well-"
"Are you implying the Headmaster has been eavesdropping?"
"He must know beforehand what will be in the papers!"
"And you're defending him? My, my. Aren't you two rubbing of on each other."
Snape chuckled and patted the wall. It sprang open and he sidestepped out.
"Do not insult me, my dear."
Ari followed.
"Besides, you -could- ask -me- how it went. I was -there-, you know."
"You?" Snape said as if the notion were the silliest thing he had heard in a while.
"If I had had anything to say about you, you'd still be in bed."
Falling in step with the long strides of the tall man, hands on her back and quite straight, Ari put up her chin and answered mischievously and rather smug.
"Really?"
The smile on Severus's face threatened to morph itself into a laugh, but he somehow managed to hold back.
"Yes-," he drawled instead. "You've had a rather strenuous night- Must have been terrible."
"Awful!"
"Horrible?"
Ari shook her head wearilly and sighed. "You can't imagine."
"No. But- you might like to talk about it?"
"You're -so- kind."
Somehow they had been heading steadily down and were right in front of the entrance to the dungeons.
"Well then, I suggest you seek out Lupin- He has a very sympathetic ear. Black uses it to wail in constantly, so he has had some practice."
Ari opened her mouth to retort with a -very- indignant reaction. But closed it and thought of a better one, while Severus gave her a curt little bow in order to take his leave of her.
"Good idea, Sev. But Remus seems somewhat preoccupied with himself right now- must be the coming of the full moon. No- I'd better see Sirius himself- besides, he might get lonely, when Remus is away- Out there. wolfing around in the night. Perhaps we could comfort each other-"
Head still bent, his eyes flicked up before Snape straitened. He stepped aside to allow Ari passage and made an inviting gesture.
"So I take it your little talk with the reporter went well?"
Ari just smiled and moved past him, and down.
*************************************************************************************************
A note about my timing
The year is 1995, for it will be Harry's fifth at Hogwarts. Dear Nearly Headless Nick has been beheaded on the 31st October 1492, so he was celebrating his five hundredth deathday in 1992, Harry's second year (there are some arguments against even this dating, but for the sake of simplicity, -those- I will ignore).
Harry has his birthday on the 31st of July. During this chapter, he's still fourteen.
Harry's fourth year ended in the third week of June. Ari and he have known each other for a very short time only, it's true. But how much time does one need when one has an observant mind to understand the situation at the Dursley home?
It also means that old Voldy has come into action quite quick, this school year. One could imagine that, after his humiliation by Harry.
Ari, Harry and Snape left London in the night of the fourth to the fifth of July. That was a Tuesday to a Wednesday in 1995, by the way. On the 11th Ari and Harry were throwing their pebbles, full moon was the night of the 12th to the 13th.
I've looked this up. Really!
How the weather was, I cannot know, but we are talking Hogwarts and the climate could differ from the Muggle reality any way one would wish for (how awfully convenient!).
Now why would all this have to be July and not August? And especially, why would my story have to start at the 4th of July? Not because of Independence Day (apologies to my readers from the USA- it would have been a nice touch, but no). It's simply the longest day in 1995 and Ari is looking at the setting sun when she goes home. Which is about 9.30 AM. And before you ask, how can Ari survive on a job where she only has to work for about two hours a day? Well, she -is- an aspiring artist and her dad has left her some money. Convenient? Terribly. But you try to stuff a plot hole big enough to fly a turquoise Ford Anglia through and not be terribly convenient!
I've found a solution for my other plot hole, the one in which Ari is capable of seeing Dementors while Muggles are unable to do so. I hope. But that is another story, for another chapter.
For the books, Bloomsbury bought the lot
Warner Bros owns it all for the big screen
I'm just in for fun, so suing would be mean!
Andolyn
26. A Tale Retold
Plop!
The little white pebble dropped into the lake with a dull, wet, well, -plop-.
Harry laughed.
"You're throwing like a girl!"
"I -am- a girl!" Ari gave back with indignation.
Harry let his flat grey stone fly. It skipped the water and went under and over at least three times before Ari lost sight of it.
The air was thick with the promise of thunder. Clouds hung low with a greenish sheen over their matted grey countenance. There was a sleight breeze and it would be dark before it would be noon.
Ari had been away from the real world for over a week now. If she'd been home, her own classes would have stopped for a while. She had had plans to go to Greece. She'd never been to Greece. After meeting the Centaur yesterday-evening, she was somehow less disappointed with not being able to go to Greece. Greece and its magic had come to her.
It had been a bit of a struggle with Poppy Pomfrey to be released that morning. But Ari had promised the mediwitch she was fine! She had nearly jumped out of the bed, bent over and touched her toes to show she was springy and fit, -not- showing she nearly keeled over with nausea the moment the mediwitch turned her back.
Ari had no difficulty with being sick- It was merely a fact of life that one would encounter the condition every once in a while. But she hated being fussed over.
Ari had been well in time for breakfast, since it had been set up two hours later than usual. Everybody had gone to bed only after Ari had been found, and that had been late. Snape seemed somewhat drawn and groggy and nobody dared speak to him until he had at least gulped down one mug of -very- dark tea. No sugar, not surprisingly. He had gone over to the other side of the table to sit as far from Ari as he could and sometimes glared at her ominously. But the hunger in those dark eyes he tried to hide from the others, would evidently not be satisfied with his morning tea or the kippers he shoved in absentmindedly.
Ari had learned by now the old Auror Moody had no difficulty with getting up bright and early, he merely had a problem with being civil. Black and Harry however, were annoyingly chipper. Black chatted happily away to Ari, only shutting up for a rather stretched moment, when she asked him how the bum felt. Harry chuckled and eyed Snape, who was definitely -not- looking in their direction.
And Remus only played with his food, apparently trying to hide a private worry. Dumbledore glanced a moment at the werewolf.
"Severus, have you-"
"Already taken care of, Headmaster."
Lupin shuddered. "I do hope you've been able to do something about that ghastly taste!"
Snape shrugged and merely stated an indifferent "No.", without lapsing into further conversation. Harry snapped his fingers.
"I forgot. Full moon in two nights."
McGonagall frowned. "Now don't let Professor Sinistra hear you say a thing like that."
Ari followed the conversation with large eyes, but refrained from giving comment. The land of magic knew many a tale and her little story within it was only just beginning to find its voice. It would not do to leap into those of others without being invited. So she took to her cheese and her cheek, and pocketed the knowledge that Lupin needed Snape to supply him with a brew everybody else knew about.
For the rest of breakfast, Lupin seemed to have found his appetite back, and McGonagall smiled mysteriously into her porridge. Dumbledore kindly asked the Deputy Headmistress what she was up to, but with a sleight frown and an 'Oh Albus, it's nothing. Really!' in thick Scottish brogue, she apparently told him to mind his own business. He kept throwing her somewhat amused sideways glances.
When Lupin, Snuffles and Fang had left, Ari asked Harry if he would show her something more of the grounds. They had to talk privately as well, since that afternoon that reporter would come. They strolled idly to the lake instead.
Again, Ari's pebble hit the water with a dull sound and lazy circles widened mockingly.
"So, who is Professor Sinistra?"
"Astrology teacher." Harry answered, looking for more pebbles.
"Astrology? What's your sign?"
Harry looked up, a bit surprised. In Ari's group of friends, the question had become normal, impersonal even. Something to start a conversation with. Although one of those friends, who chose to call herself 'practical' and 'down-to-earth', usually named herself a 'duck'. Ari wondered what that practical friend would make of Harry & co.
Harry stared over the lake, pebble in hand, thinking. Was the question too personal for him, Ari wondered? Or was it simply bewilderment because nobody had ever shown interest?
The boy shrugged.
"I'm a Leo."
And he let fly away the next flat stone.
"Should have known- A lion in Griffindor."
Harry grinned.
"It's your birthday soon, then?"
"Not just yet. Almost three weeks." The boy sighed, wearily smiling and apparently looking forward to it. Perhaps McGonagal could give her an idea for a present. Or Remus- But if she asked him, she might be involving Black- And she did not wanted to do that. Having Severus think about a present for the boy seemed such a joke, she might involve the man just to see him lift those brows again, silently confirming she'd gone mad. Ari chuckled a little at the thought, and was almost startled with Harry's question.
"So, what's yours?"
Focussing on the moment and the boy who was ready to let yet another pebble fly, she answered.
"Scorpio."
Harry stopped in mid-movement and turned with an incredulous smile on his face.
"Really?"
"Yes really. What?"
"Well- its just- Professor Snape is a Scorpio. You see, Professor Trelawny, our diviniation teacher, made sure we knew what our professors are to motivate us for her lessons. She thought we would pay more attention." The boy smiled faintly. "It even worked a bit for me, until some of the girls started to predict a disgustingly fluffy romance between Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey! Diviniation is crap."
Ari shook her head.
"So, I'm nothing like big bad Snape now, am I- Considering the little feud you two seem to be nursing, I'll take that as a compliment."
Harry harrumphed. "Big -bat- Snape! He's never kind, he's always seems so cold. But you have to see him when he's truly mad- He can really explode you know. It's even a bit funny, when you're -not- on the receiving end, that is. His face gets all screwed up and he spits."
Ari rubbed her chin. "Yes, I know. And you know something else? Apart from the spitting, it sounds like something I could do. Being really calm one moment and then suddenly go off like a firecracker."
"He resented my father. And now he hates me."
"Why?"
"A school thing. Slytherin and Griffindor have always bullied each other. Snape and my father played pranks on each other."
Harry threw his little stone. Up and over, down and up, only two times this time and the boy voiced his disappointment, forgot it instantly and stared down for another flat pebble. Ari sensed there was more to this story, again, than Harry wanted to tell. Probably because there were others involved and Harry did not seem one to gossip. She also noted that in spite of the boy's dislikes, he would not blame Snape solely for the animosity, over his father. There was wisdom in that- but not the kind of wisdom a pebble throwing fourteen year old should know of.
"But he still came through for you."
Harry sighed . "It's difficult, you know. People are almost never what they seem. Snape has always been such a rotten bastard- But I wonder how I would be if I'd been where he has been- He's our spy and almost always in danger and that must get on his nerves a lot- I just wish he would not take it out on the rest of the world-"
Harry threw, but rather uncontrolled this time. The small stone flew a lot further than the others had gone and disappeared immediately.
"-or on me!"
"Well, I-"
But Ari did not get the chance to finish, for Harry jumped at her and pushed her out of the way.
"Watch out!"
Suddenly it rained wet mud covered pebbles from the lake. Holding their hands above their heads, Ari and Harry ran away fast. Out of reach they turned to a terrible offending screeching voice. It belonged to an infuriated creature with a grey skin and wild dark green hair, angrily rubbing its forehead. The being shook a fist at them and vanished under water.
"What the hell!"
"Merpeople," said Harry. "Seems we hit one."
"Seems they don't like that very much."
"O, they are kind of nice- although I could not recommend a visit."
A small ghost and a giant squid, the Baron and the Washerwomen. Harry and the Merpeople. Those of the land and water did nor seem to mingle well around here.
A lion, a raven, a snake and a badger. Not the traditional elemental tokens, but they could translate roughly in fire, air, water and earth. Drive, logic, emotion and matter.
"You understood what it said?", Ari asked the lion's cub. No longer such a small cub, but not a king either.
Not yet.
"No, but I'm sure I'd lose house points if I'd ever repeated it in plain English."
"Speaking about some plain English- We have a story to tell."
So they flopped down on the grass and Ari told Harry what she had discussed with Dumbledore. That they should omit Snape's role, and for the rest not stray al that much from what had happened. They sat and talked until somewhere above the mountain range behind the Quidditch pitch thunder rumbled and the first large droplets chased them inside
Walter Gates arrived in the middle of the thunderstorm, crackling with electricity and explaining his keep-dry spell had attracted a few bolts of lightning when walking from Hogwarth's gates to the castle. He was a dumpy forty something, had short cropped dark blond curls and dressed down in conservative mud brown robes.
Yet the eyes were remarkable. So light in their grey they were almost white, shot through with silver and extremely penetrating. He started of the interview with offering Harry his hand and his condolences. The boy took the hand somewhat awkwardly, and thanked him.
They sat in Dubledore's sitting, with only the Headmaster's pet bird listening in on them from the other room. The coffee table had disappeared under the pastry's, tarts and other delights the house elves had heaped upon it. Gates eyed the food longingly, yet took very little. Neither did Harry. It still thundered outside.
"Well Harry, I believe you've hade the, -er, -pleasure- of meeting one of my -er, well, for lack of words, -colleagues- before?"
Harry's eyes narrowed somewhat and his chin came up.
"You could call it that."
"I take it you also remember her Quick-Notes-Quill?"
From a thin briefcase Gates conjured a trunk-seize roll of parchment and a purple quill. Again, Harry frowned .
"Well, my dear boy, this one is -different-. You see, it only writes down what has been -said-. Do you have any objections?"
Harry shook his head.
"What is that?" Ari asked curiously. Gates put the quill upright on the parchment, where it waited impatiently and doodled a bit.
Harry shrugged.
"The wizard's version of a dictaphone."
"A what?" asked Gates.
Harry rolled is eyes. "A box to catch voices in that Muggles use instead of a Quick-Notes-Quill."
The journalist's eyebrows almost crawled of his face.
"But Muggles have no magic!"
Ari smiled. "No, but we do have the technology to sometimes approach magic quite nicely."
Gates nodded. "Same problem, different solutions. I understand. Do you have any objections?"
"None."
"Well then." He cocked his head towards the quill. "Are you listening?"
The quill stopped with his drawing of a rather fat chicken and jumped to attention. The parchment unwound itself a bit, until it's face was clear.
"Harry. The Crystal Review, the paper I am working for, is quite aware about what has been published about you, both last year and of late. There is a tendency in those articles, that, not so mildly spoken, cast doubt on your mental stability. Do you have any comment on that?"
Harry nodded grimly.
"There is a lot I could say about that. But if I did, I would mostly be saying things about the person that wrote them, and that won't help much. So I won't. Besides, people will only believe what I have to say about my scar, if they believe Voldemort has returned."
There was a screech from the parchment, a harsh blast of thunder outside, and the purple feather fluttered to the ground, doing a one legged hop to get away and hide under some cupboard. While Both Harry and Gates made a dive for the quill, Ari read what the thing had written. It was accurate to the last syllable, which was 'Vol' and then the thing had bolted.
While the man and the boy made some ruckus in catching the quill, and both made funny noises bumping into furniture that could not get out of the way in time, Ari saw no humour in the situation at all. When both wizards surfaced again, Harry nursing his elbow, Gates holding the struggling pen with both hands, she gave them a cold, hard look.
"You know, if even your animated -objects- are in fear of naming the foe, you wizards and my world are in deep trouble indeed!"
Gates nodded, took out his wand and bewitched the quill some further.
"Bravado!" he said. The quill fluffed out a bit and its pen seemed to thicken. When Gates put the quill on the parchment again, it finished the dictation in bold italics.
"Which is also the reason why people rather believe that the Boy-Who-Lived is both wretched and bonkers, instead of acing up to the fact that the terror might start all over again. Yesterday's children remember hiding under their beds when strangers, or even the milkman, came knocking. Many people, both guilty and completely innocent, are shunned by the righteous for bearing the scent of the Deatheaters, which is -not- good for the healing of our society. And a great number of people are branded, like Potter, with the irreparable loss of kin. We are scared! Unconsciously all of us -know- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named survived. Otherwise, why -would- we have come up with such silly names? For a dead man, we would not have. We know! And because we know, we do -not- wish to hear. But we must!" Grim he looked at the pair of them. "It is my duty- the duty of all of the press, to inform and open the eyes of the people, so they may ready themselves. But unfortunately, we have very little influence over people like Skeeter- Or the Daily Prophet for that matter. So, Harry, please just plainly tell me what happened to your family. I -do- understand how painful this must be for you- but please! And I'm afraid my readers have to draw their conclusions themselves. Even if this means that quite a few will suspect a few rogue dark wizards rather then resurrected Death Eaters!"
The man talked a lot, for one whose profession it supposedly was to mostly listen.
Now it was Harry's turn to throw the hard looks.
"Then you -already- believe he has rerurned!" Lightning took the opportunity to emphasise the words dramatically.
"With the floo network going out of commission? People disappearing all over the place? The Knightbus personnel vanishing? And our government denying it all? I remember how things started twenty five years ago, Harry. With the government telling us to be at peace and sleep easy! It was unthinkable another Grindelwald had risen, unthinkable one of our own was after our own. But it was, and it is. And last time round I was too young and naïve to see the signs of darkening times. But I've learned something along the way and it is about time all those of my generation remember as well! Yes, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived! You are a magnet to the dark one. You've made a fool of him. You did so when you've destroyed him, and if the rumours about the Tri-Wizard tournament are right, you've done it again and you've certainly done it now! So tell me, Harry, tell my readers, tell the -world- how a half trained wizard and a Muggle thwarted the Worst-of-the-Worst -again-!"
'And a Muggle'. Ari did not like the sound of that. Up to now, making enemies had consisted of giving a board member a piece of her mind, voicing her opinion during a meeting, telling the police officer -exactly- what he could do with her ticket.
Words. The quill mightier than the wand?
Hogwarts her safe haven. Thank god the school year had not even begun yet.
Harry's voice found a way into her pondering. Stiffly and impersonal, he again told the tale of that faithful night.
But the cupboard under the stairs had been altered into the loo down the hall. Harry's mental mistreatment at the hand of the Dursley family might be completely misunderstood and could easily take away the focus from the important facts. If people knew how they had been to the boy, people again might doubt his sanity from mental trauma, or accuse him of spoilt and bratty pleading for attention with Dumbledore.
Ari coming for Harry had been made up to be her first and only rescue that night, realising Harry's peril after she had seen what had happened to Dudley, totally forgoing Snape's peril, his heroism, and the Dementors.
Ari closed her eyes a moment.
A ball rolling over the street, that was no ball.
She took a deep breath and continued listening to Harry. But the piercing and grim eyes of the reporter flashed repeatedly over her.
After Harry's leap into Ari's car, she took over. She told of her surprise and horror at seeing what these dark robed and hooded people could do with their sticks that in truth were wands. She spoke of driving to Hogwarts, because Harry had asked her to.
Harry's scar and the pain of premonition -had- to be mentioned. Otherwise they would not have had a reason to abandon Ari's car. But both he and Ari backed the claim up with the destruction of the vehicle
A dark and frightful trek through a field followed. Harry told the reporter that from afar, they had seen the Dark Mark bloom over the car.
With some distance between the burning wreck and themselves, Harry had waved for the Knight Bus, but nobody had come for them. So a Muggle train was taken to the end of Ari's world. And there, with a long while still to go, Hedwig, Harry's very bright snowy owl the boy explained, had found them. Harry had sent note to Hogwarts they were coming. Muggle transport in the form of a normal bus, had taken the pair near Hogsmeade. Where a very anxious Groundskeeper had awaited them with a horseless carriage.
End of story.
Ari told of her amazement with the Magical community. She spoke of not daring to go home or contact her family. If she did, she would have to be obliviated- not something she looked forward to. Most inhabitants of Privet Drive had been exposed to that spell out of necessity. One more person would not have been a problem for the wizards who had performed that task.
But the people who had come after Harry knew her now, and that made her extremely vulnerable had she remained in the Muggle society. If her family had been informed of her whereabouts, the Wizarding Community would have been exposed to quite a large group of unsuspecting people and a lot of explanations would have to be given. A lot of powerless people would have been alarmed needlessly. With all contact severed, Ari hoped her family would not be taken vengeance upon. But out of fear of provoking just that, she did not voice the thought to the tirelessly scribbling quill.
Harry spoke of the Diggory family and their son Cedric, and how the boy died. He almost cracked from the strain, hands balled to fists, knuckles white, but refused to back out. Yes, he did realise the Ministry of Magic's official views upon the subject of his schoolmate's death, but no, it had -definitely- not been an accident. And Harry would swear to his story, even under the influence of Veritaserum!
Pale and horrified, Ari listened to Harry's account of the horrors he had seen. She had absolutely no idea how to react properly, apart from not even touching the boy of fear he would break down- Then again, Harry seemed distressed, certainly, but his never failing courage carried him and Ari noticed the boy-soldier was -angry-. Not afraid. Saddened, yes. Nervous? That too And very, very angry.
Gates concluded the interview, the moment Albus Dumbledore choose to re-enter his chambers. He ate humbugs and drank tea, talked about the weather with Gates and told a silly stories about the giant squid and the last time it thundered above the lake. Ari could not help but chuckle about them. Harry did not listen, but reread the notes on the interview -twice-, before giving his permission to have it printed.
Gates left, Harry's shoulders dropped and finally Ari gave in to her need to take the boy in a firm hug. Harry leant into it, muttered a muffled thanks and extracted himself, walking over to one of the windows, seeing nothing through the rain.
Ari sighed, long and deep.
"That," said the headmaster, "was altogether quite unpleasant. Would you two care to play some exploding snap?"
Harry's shoulders shook, but upon turning whatever the tremors had been, had turned into chuckles
"I didn't knew you played, Headmaster."
"Champion three years in a row, in my own schooldays ."
Harry approached the old man's desk.
"There were championships?"
Dumbledore shrugged, a faint smile on his lips and his eyes beaming with mirth.
"Well, not officially."
And while the headmaster retrieved a rather worse for wear deck of cards from his desk and instructed Harry to make piles of humbugs for stakes, Ari rose and shook her head in silent rejection to their invitation. She suddenly felt alone, but lonelier still in the company of kind strangers.
So she left the Headmasters office, took a moment to admire the brass knocker, a large soup-ladle today, descended the revolving spiral staircase, and finally came to the crack in the wall, decorated with intricate Celtic knots and the ever present Hogwarts coat of arms. There, she heard a smooth voice accuse the gargoyle on the other side of something to do with Scandinavian liquorice.
Severus. To her own astonishment, Ari felt her heart speed up and a lump in her throat, scolding herself for her girlish reaction to nothing more then his -voice-.
But o lord, the voice of that man, and his hands- Eyes-
Tight jeans-
Ari heard the gargoyle move aside and saw the gap in the wall open. But the split was to narrow to let two people go in and out the same instance. So she waited, distracted with her own thoughts. And did not step aside.
Snape burst in, nearly run her over, caught himself in mid stride and held himself up in the doorframe.
"Would you mind?" he asked rather testily.
"What?" Ari asked quite intelligently, feeling as if she was waking from some dream.
Snape hopped inside because the wall behind him closed up again. With flourish he crossed his arms in front of him, puckered his lips a little.
"Move aside!" he said. And with an afterthought he added a very insincere: "Please."
Ari did, in the narrow space between the stairs and the wall.
"I do hope you do not have anything urgent to discuss with the headmaster. He's in a very important meeting."
In that same narrow space Snape halted, turned and his cloak grazed Ari's front. His eyebrows went up, while he gathered the black material tightly around himself.
"With whom?"
"Harry."
The man rolled his eyes.
"And what is so terribly important about that?"
"Well, they are in the middle of something."
Another raised brow.
"I believe it is called 'Exploding Snap'.
A dry chuckle.
"Poor Potter. At least he cannot lose any wages yet."
"Pity for Potter?"
A little smile. "The Headmaster is unbeatable with silly games like that." He gazed up the stairs. "But still, I would very much like to know how that interview went."
"So you'll be asking the -Headmaster-" Ari said in mock disgust, that nevertheless did seem to reach the Potions Master.
"Er- yes?"
"Not Harry, not me- but somebody who was not there?"
"Well-"
"Are you implying the Headmaster has been eavesdropping?"
"He must know beforehand what will be in the papers!"
"And you're defending him? My, my. Aren't you two rubbing of on each other."
Snape chuckled and patted the wall. It sprang open and he sidestepped out.
"Do not insult me, my dear."
Ari followed.
"Besides, you -could- ask -me- how it went. I was -there-, you know."
"You?" Snape said as if the notion were the silliest thing he had heard in a while.
"If I had had anything to say about you, you'd still be in bed."
Falling in step with the long strides of the tall man, hands on her back and quite straight, Ari put up her chin and answered mischievously and rather smug.
"Really?"
The smile on Severus's face threatened to morph itself into a laugh, but he somehow managed to hold back.
"Yes-," he drawled instead. "You've had a rather strenuous night- Must have been terrible."
"Awful!"
"Horrible?"
Ari shook her head wearilly and sighed. "You can't imagine."
"No. But- you might like to talk about it?"
"You're -so- kind."
Somehow they had been heading steadily down and were right in front of the entrance to the dungeons.
"Well then, I suggest you seek out Lupin- He has a very sympathetic ear. Black uses it to wail in constantly, so he has had some practice."
Ari opened her mouth to retort with a -very- indignant reaction. But closed it and thought of a better one, while Severus gave her a curt little bow in order to take his leave of her.
"Good idea, Sev. But Remus seems somewhat preoccupied with himself right now- must be the coming of the full moon. No- I'd better see Sirius himself- besides, he might get lonely, when Remus is away- Out there. wolfing around in the night. Perhaps we could comfort each other-"
Head still bent, his eyes flicked up before Snape straitened. He stepped aside to allow Ari passage and made an inviting gesture.
"So I take it your little talk with the reporter went well?"
Ari just smiled and moved past him, and down.
*************************************************************************************************
A note about my timing
The year is 1995, for it will be Harry's fifth at Hogwarts. Dear Nearly Headless Nick has been beheaded on the 31st October 1492, so he was celebrating his five hundredth deathday in 1992, Harry's second year (there are some arguments against even this dating, but for the sake of simplicity, -those- I will ignore).
Harry has his birthday on the 31st of July. During this chapter, he's still fourteen.
Harry's fourth year ended in the third week of June. Ari and he have known each other for a very short time only, it's true. But how much time does one need when one has an observant mind to understand the situation at the Dursley home?
It also means that old Voldy has come into action quite quick, this school year. One could imagine that, after his humiliation by Harry.
Ari, Harry and Snape left London in the night of the fourth to the fifth of July. That was a Tuesday to a Wednesday in 1995, by the way. On the 11th Ari and Harry were throwing their pebbles, full moon was the night of the 12th to the 13th.
I've looked this up. Really!
How the weather was, I cannot know, but we are talking Hogwarts and the climate could differ from the Muggle reality any way one would wish for (how awfully convenient!).
Now why would all this have to be July and not August? And especially, why would my story have to start at the 4th of July? Not because of Independence Day (apologies to my readers from the USA- it would have been a nice touch, but no). It's simply the longest day in 1995 and Ari is looking at the setting sun when she goes home. Which is about 9.30 AM. And before you ask, how can Ari survive on a job where she only has to work for about two hours a day? Well, she -is- an aspiring artist and her dad has left her some money. Convenient? Terribly. But you try to stuff a plot hole big enough to fly a turquoise Ford Anglia through and not be terribly convenient!
I've found a solution for my other plot hole, the one in which Ari is capable of seeing Dementors while Muggles are unable to do so. I hope. But that is another story, for another chapter.