D/C: I'm not making any money.
Ch. 17: A Summoning
She was there again. Standing before a torch-lit cavern, looking uncertainly at a beautiful gold sword laid out on a platform, its only jeweled decoration was a single lucid green stone in the hilt.
"Mum?" Harry murmured looking from the image of his mother to the sword, which gleamed so brightly it hurt his eyes. She ignored him and entered the room just as before. Shakily, Lily examined the cavern, before reaching out for the blade.
"Oh well," she muttered. "Can't live without risk." She grabbed the hilt and lifted it, gasping at how light it was. She brought the blade down and its movements were more like that of silk than metal. Her image began to fade like so many times before and Harry could only watch as the string of dreams began to loop themselves. He didn't understand…didn't even know how seeing any of these images were possible. Was it a memory, possibly from his parents? Or were they a product of his imagination…a very vivid product that didn't loose its vibrancy as time wore on. He wanted the dream to move forward…to the time he had dreamt about the Guardian…and his mother possibly seeing him. But as dreams do, they just faded away until there was nothing left but the unconcerned snores of his roommates. Harry's eyes flitted open and he lay there in the chorus of breathing and nighttime shifting of sheets. Taking pains to not make a sound he crept towards a pitcher under one of the windows and poured himself a goblet full of water. He sipped it as if contemplating its flavor.
He stood there for a long stretch of time, wondering about what had sparked the reappearance of the dreams, questioning why he had yet to tell anyone, not even Ron and Hermione about them. He quickly answered himself. After the consequences of last year's events, Hermione looked ready to rush Harry to Dumbledore if his hand moved even remotely near his scar, and if Ron received wind that Harry may be in danger he'd turn into an irrationally concerned bodyguard. On top of that, there was still a considerable handful of students that skirted around him in the halls, as if afraid he would snap, engulfing them in a mad, angst-driven, blaze. Harry wasn't willing to change how well things were going in return for a couple of knitted brows, tight lips, and dream interpretations, especially because he wasn't sure about the meaning of the dreams himself. That is, if they had a meaning at all.
And then there was that jade pendent; he could barely recall that dream now, having had it so long ago. He did however remember, with a flop of his stomach, the uncanny resemblance of the necklace his mother had taken in his dream and the one hanging around Jade's neck. At the thought of Jade, his stomach plummeted several more feet. It had been over a week since Jade's tactless announcement to Cho that he liked her, and he still couldn't bring himself to forgive her for it. But why he couldn't was beyond him…though deep down he knew just as much as Hermione and Ron that he was being stupid.
There was actually a point when he wanted to forgive Jade…and apologize too. It wasn't until a few days ago, with Hermione constantly on his case, did he actually remember what he had said to her. If that fateful night near the Great Staircase were a boxing match between Jade and himself, he would have been pulled out of the ring for one hits too many below the belt
"I s'pose if she can't even remember her parents, she couldn't possibly remember to keep my crush a secret!"
Hearing his own voice in his head repeat that line made his insides churn. It was beyond harsh; for one, he shouldn't be one to talk about parents, and two, in Jade's case, it was more than an insensitive comment. He had been cruel. Jade had tried to apologize for spilling the beans for the second time a few nights ago, obviously trying to hide her own anger at him, but he had once again remarked gracefully with something along the lines of "Being sorry never fixed anything" before stalking off. He really did want to forgive her, and ask for her forgiveness in return, but whenever he thought about it, all he could see was Cho at flying lessons four days ago, making every effort to avoid him, and he was angry again.
"That's not fair, you know," Hermione had stated firmly as she sat with him and Ron on Thursday in the Common Room. "Making Jade suffer like that…over something like a crush." Harry knew it, but if being logical were his only means of survival, he'd be dead. Life seemed to be riddled with irrational emotion, and there was nothing Hermione could fix about that.
Harry sighed and stretched, feeling any desire for sleep slip away from him. Maybe he should ask Sirius for advice, condolences, anything. Sure Sirius didn't exactly embrace Jade, but maybe he could pound some logic into Harry, maybe help him realize that in ten years he'd look back on that moment and laugh. After reliving the ultimate humility of it all, of course. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, and he hadn't written to Sirius in a while. Deciding on going to the owlery to send the letter via one of the school's barn owls, Harry grabbed a bit of parchment and a quill, his glasses, and after a moment's consideration, his father's Invisibility cloak.
He slipped from the portrait hole and swept the cloak around him, watching his body disappear in the flickering candlelight. As he walked, he was already formulating the letter in his head, using the peace of the dark and empty halls as a catalyst for his thoughts. He was climbing the hidden staircase that led to the upper floors when voices floated to his ears through a tapestry on his left.
"I haven't been summoned for several weeks," Snape was saying in quiet agitation. "This could be an unexpected step backwards."
"Or it could mean Voldemort's movement have been constricted," the Headmaster's voice replied. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he nearly dropped the quill and parchment. He inched forwarded to peak through the tapestry that happened to be near Dumbledore's office.
"Sirius has sent word that Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters remain in Bulgaria," Dumbledore was saying with a nod at Snape whose face grew grim at the mention of Sirius's name. "For now let us worry about what Voldemort's intentions are…whether they still involve this Guardian."
"Somehow he's received word that evidence of its existence has been proven false and it has been confirmed destroyed," Snape replied. "It seems now he may be remaining within Bulgaria in search of a knew plan for true immortality. However, the murders may not stop. They did finally use the Death Mark when they killed Karakaroff. That means their numbers are increasing again, they're more sure of their power…"
The Headmaster was silently surveying Snape, and Harry could almost feel the trust radiating from the aged and tall man. Snape's face tightened and he turned his gaze away from Dumbledore. Though comparable in height, the Potions Master seemed dwarfed beside him.
Suddenly a soft hiss caught Harry off guard and he struggled to remain still behind the tapestry as Mrs. Norris stalked by, pausing right in front of it. The lamp-like eyes burned into his invisible form, and the slinky gray body stiffened as she caught his scent. But to Harry's relief, the cat's attention was miraculously adverted to an adjacent hallway nearly directly in front of the tapestry Harry was hiding behind. His eyes followed the cat, heart pounding, and what he saw nearly made him cry out in surprise. Dumont was standing in the shadows, listening intently to the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. "What's she doing here?" Harry thought shifting to watch her strained face. The cat moved towards her, meowing loudly attracting the attention of the two men. With grace that seemed foreign to her, the strange substitute seemed to disappear in the shadows, the cat following her.
"Did you hear that, Headmaster?" Snape asked peering into the hall mere feet from Harry. Dumbledore nodded and led the greasy-haired man into the darkness, and as soon as they were out of sight, Harry came out from behind the tapestry, intent on returning to Gryffindor tower. He tore as quietly as possible through the halls; avoiding the hidden staircases where Filch may be expertly haunting, considering his cat was prowling near by. Harry's mind was racing. The Guardian…he was almost sure that was what his mother and father were after, seeing the same dreams over and over again. But if it didn't exist, if it's news was just a false presumption on one of Voldemort's informer's part, then maybe Dumbledore was right about Death Eater movement slowing down, at least for the time being. Harry crept silently through a fourth floor corridor, suddenly forgetting about writing to Sirius, or being angry at Jade. What was the Guardian? Why were his parents after it? And why was Dumont sneaking about? He was making a mental note to tell Ron and Hermione about his encounters when a hissing mewing startled him. Harry turned around to see Mrs. Norris, lamp-like eyes reflecting the flickering flames cunningly. He held his breath, and inched backwards as quietly as possible towards the end of the hall, praying the cat wouldn't follow. She crept towards him, but eventually she paused and he picked up his pace, moving backwards in long quiet strides; he was nearly to the end of the hall where he could turn right and go up to the next floor. He was movingly quickly now, concentrating so deeply on being noiseless he didn't have time to react to the sound of a flushing toilet when the door behind him was thrown open.
"ARGH!" It happened in a flash. He had collided with Filch who had just stepped from the boy's toilet at the end of the hall, sending the stringy old man flying back into the lavatory's recesses. Harry was flung forward, the cloak slipping off his body. He got up frantically, now aware of footsteps quickly heading in their direction. The cloak, Harry thought alarmed. If Filch or whoever was now charging down the hall towards him saw the cloak… Unable to pull it successfully around himself, he spotted the rows of suits of armor on either side of him. Thinking quickly, panic drying his mouth, he stuffed the cloak into the open visor of the one nearest him. Just as the last of the silvery material slipped away from his fingers, Snape burst onto the scene to see Filch stepping from the bathroom, back bent, and cursing…and of course, Harry out of bed in the dead of night. Snape's black eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, the black of his robes accentuating the slivers of white in his hair and the paleness of his face.
"Late night stroll, Potter?" he asked in quiet mockery.
* * *
"Harry! It's a snitch—you catch it!" Angelina hollered, her breath condensing in the cold pre-dawn air. Harry yawned and gave his captain the thumbs up, struggling desperately to concentrate on his search for a little golden flicker. The faster he caught the darn thing, the faster morning practice would be over. He had been trying to concentrate all morning, but it seemed his mind was focusing on anything but Quidditch. The foiled midnight journey earned him a delightful detention from Snape, as well as one from Filch who was seething. And he thought there was a chance of escaping his fifth year detention free. It also wasn't helping that he got an insomniac's amount of sleep and was practically dead on his broomstick.
Harry weaved his way around the goal posts looking down at Ron who seemed completely incapable of ever getting use to getting up before the sun did, sitting hunched over on Seamus' Nimbus 2001. He only shook himself out of his coma to catch the quaffle sent his way by Alicia. Twenty or so feet below, Seamus circled lazily around the pitch, cautiously building speed (it was more like a very tiny acceleration from stand-still to steady crawl) on an ancient Shooting Star he had traded for his own broomstick.
A flash of gold reflected the sunrise, and Harry was off, trying desperately to focus his mind on catching it. However flickers of the conversation he overheard the night before, images of the strange dreams, and Cho's face continue to push all thoughts of practice out of his mind. He swallowed the lump of mortification forming like a ball of solidified morning breath in his throat. After what seemed like an eternity, the call that would set all of them free was heard.
"Right, let's pack up!" Angelina yelled, the displeasure audible in her voice. "It's Hufflepuff's pitch in five minutes!" Conveniently, Harry spotted the snitch for the millionth time that morning and dove for it, catching it barely by the wings.
"Good job, Ron," Seamus said as Ron handed him back his broom. He stifled a yawn and managed a very sleepy grin. Within minutes, he and Harry were trudging back up to the castle together in the dazzling morning sunlight that had materialized around them, making the tiny clumps of residual winter snow glisten.
"Weren't your best this morning," Ron noted, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"I didn't sleep well," Harry muttered in return. "Too busy getting detentions last night."
"What was that all about anyway?"
"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd send a letter to Padfoot. I got caught in the process, by Snape and Filch, no less." Ron grimaced.
"You get your cloak?" he asked.
"This morning, before practice," Harry replied. "But never mind that. I didn't get a chance to tell you about what I heard last night. I overheard Dumbledore and Snape talking…they were discussing Voldemort's movement…and that Guardian thing."
"You mean like the thing we heard Snape and Dumont arguing about before the break?"
"Sounds like it."
"You don't reckon Dumbledore's hiding this…Guardian, do you?" Harry shrugged.
"It wouldn't be a first, but then there's proof it was destroyed or something. Snape thinks Voldemort is trying to find another way to regain power and immortality." Ron's face grew pale at the mention of that name, but he had months ago stopped protesting to Harry's use of it.
"There's something else," Harry said shifting the Firebolt on his shoulders. "Dumont was sneaking around. I saw her last night eavesdropping on Snape and Dumbledore." Ron raised his eyebrows.
"You sure she was 'sneaking around'?" he asked. "Maybe she accidentally came across them talking, like you did."
"I don't think so," Harry said. "You should have seen her face, and the way she hid in the shadows. She followed them there." They silently walked the rest of the way to the castle.
There was an hour before breakfast even started so they took to the boy's bathroom to shower and dress for the day. Afterwards Harry and Ron played a few games of Exploding Snap as they waited for Hermione to appear from the staircase.
"Morning," Hermione said crisply spotting them when she had descended from the girl's dormitories.
"G'morning," they replied putting down the cards. She seated herself between them and looked pressingly at Harry. Before either he or Ron could fill her in with what had happened the night before she spoke.
"Well?" she asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.
"Well what?" Harry asked, somewhat surprised. She was staring at him straight in the eye, and he quickly looked away. Hermione had a talent of looking at someone all-knowingly and it could prove quite nerve-racking.
"Have you come to your senses about Jade?" she asked for the thousandth time that week. Ron pursed his lips and looked at her, shaking his head.
"Come off it for a second, will you?" Ron said slightly exasperated. "Harry got a detention for being out of bed last night." And before Hermione could lecture him, he and Ron burst out in a narrative of what he had overheard and saw.
"Dumont?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. "But she doesn't seem the type to be sneaky."
"She's a strange one, she is," Ron noted.
"Should we tell someone?" Hermione asked her eyebrows knitted. "The Headmaster?"
"I think he knows," Harry replied. "He and Snape followed her and you know nothing
gets past Dumbledore."
"And this guardian thing, they say its been proven to be destroyed or non-existent?" Hermione asked sitting forward in her chair. "What is it?"
"No clue," Harry replied.
"A little research could fix that," she stated as her thoughts seem to finally depart from Jade and she sat silently with her arms cross, no doubt probably mapping out the library in her head. Harry was almost a little relieved that this was something new to preoccupy her with. Maybe it meant she'd give him a break about forgiving Jade.
That little bliss wouldn't be for long. A few minutes later they were seated at the Gryffindor table in the midst of chatter and food passing. Harry ladled porridge into their bowls as Hermione again brought up Jade.
"It's been over a week," she said. Harry only sighed and seated himself.
"You're being ridiculous, Harry, it was an accident."
"One that wouldn't happen if she cared enough about the outcome."
"Come on, Harry," Ron tried.
"What if I told the girl you liked that you fancied her?" Harry replied heatedly dropping the ladle. "You wouldn't exactly shower me with gifts, would you?" The muscles around Ron's jaw tightened and a tinge of pink appeared on the bridge of his nose. Seamus and Dean who were sitting nearby tried to pretend that they hadn't heard a thing while Parvati and Lavender scooted as close as possible to hear any more dripping details.
"No," Ron finally mustered.
"That's still not the point," Hermione said stubbornly. "You are being childish about this."
"Listen," Ron said. "If you just talk to Jade, maybe you'll get over being so bloody angry about this."
"You're one to give advice on anger management," Harry stated before catching himself and slumping in his seat. Ron's ears reddened.
"Listen," Harry said stumbling on the words. "You know I didn't mean it…I didn't sleep well and—" Jade had entered the Great Hall, rucksack slung across her shoulders. Hermione waved her over, and she obliged despite Harry's presence.
"Hi Hermione, Ron," she said pleasantly before turning to Harry and adding coldly, "Morning, Harry." He grunted and Hermione elbowed him.
"I saved you a seat," Hermione said motioning to the chair beside her. Jade smiled but shook her head.
"Actually I'm going to sit with the twins again," she replied cheerily. "Being that my humble apologies have once again failed—" she glared at Harry "—I think it best if I don't sit too close to a certain someonr. Besides Fred and George are giving me dancing tips…the promenade isn't too far from now."
Jade smiled and walked away to a seat farther up the table.
"The least you could do is try, Harry," Hermione muttered spooning some porridge into her mouth.
"She wasn't exactly chummy with me either," he replied in defense.
"You did blow up at her twice," Ron noted.
"And if you just happen to let it go unnoticed," Hermione added rather tartly, "she apologized the second time ignoring the fact that you said something very cruel to her." Harry was silently gazing at the tureen in front of him having ages ago contemplated that thought guiltily. However, that guilt was quickly forgotten as he lifted his eyes and saw Cho at the Ravenclaw table. As if on cue, she raised her eyes and their gazes met before she instantly turned away, avoiding looking anywhere in his general direction for the rest of breakfast. Harry's face burned as he twisted the napkin in his hands now wondering if it were even possible to forgive Jade.
Harry yawned and tried to rub the sleepiness from his eyes as his mind drifted from their Astronomy lesson onto his many conflicts.
"If you can locate Sirius for us, Mr. Potter," Professor Sinistra said.
"Excuse me?" he asked startled.
"The Dog star, if you were paying attention," the lean woman replied pointing towards the heavens.
"Oh, right."
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth years huddled together in the chilly night on Hogwarts' highest tower, attempting to locate constellations while stifling yawns and clamping shut chattering teeth.
"Where's Jade and Neville?" Harry heard Ron mumble to Hermione as he pressed his eye against the peephole of the telescope. "Class started twenty minutes ago."
"Detention," Hermione answered. "Remember for melting that cauldron a week ago?"
"Shouldn't they be done by now? I mean it's nearly midnight."
From the stairs leading to the top of the tower, two figures clamored into the cold night, winter cloaks fluttering out behind them.
"Sorry Professor," Jade gasped struggling to regain a firm hold of her rucksack, which was threatening to spill its contents.
"Professor Snape—," Neville panted. "He kept us loads longer then we expected."
"Tosh," Sinistra said waving away their apologies. "You aren't the first to be late to my class…Astronomy must convene in only the most inconvenient of hours. Mr. Longbottom I'm sure Misters Thomas and Finnigan can accommodate you at their telescope. Ms Cordonnier, perhaps you may join Ms Granger and Misters Weasley and Potter?" Jade struggled over to them, dropping her bag at her feet. Harry ignored her and pretended to be involved in searching for Sirius, the Dog Star.
"Ack, what in god's name is that smell?" Ron whispered as Jade leaned over him to glance at their assignments.
"Dragon dung," Jade replied matter-of-factly, before cautiously sniffing at her robes. "Neville and I spent the last two hours 'harvesting' and stewing it for some potion or another; probably the main ingredient to Snape's favorite cologne. What'd I miss?"
"Not much," Hermione answered squinting up at the cloudless night sky. "We're practicing how to map out constellation locations."
"Great."
"Sorry about your detention," Hermione continued. "I hope it wasn't too awful."
"Oh no," she replied sarcastically. "It was an absolute holiday. I think I would have drowned myself in the nearest number two cauldron if Professor Lupin hadn't showed up. There for his Wolfsbane, I reckon. Blast, I didn't even finish my chart!"
"You can copy mine," Ron said.
"No you can't," Hermione snapped pushing Ron's chart away from Jade's outstretched fingers. "It's not too much work and you shouldn't cheat." Jade cast her a mildly reproving look, the heavy sent of dung wafting off of her.
"Fine, I'll need the telescope then," Jade replied with a sigh. "Shove over, Harry."
"No," he said still peering through the eyehole. "I'm still using it."
"No you're not. You're just using it to avoid talking to me, but I assure you if you give me a go, I won't utter a word."
"I told you I got here first."
"Harry," Hermione said warningly.
"Listen," Jade hissed. "I've had a long night and detention's been rough. Can't you cut me a break long enough so I can finish this assignment?"
"Don't be so melodramatic," Harry replied evenly. "I've got a couple detentions myself."
"But you earned those," Hermione said firmly and finally Harry relented, stepping backwards and knocking over Jade's bag in the process, spilling the contents. She huffed and bent to pick them up.
"Oh no," she groaned.
"What is it?" Ron queried bending down to pick up her quills.
"My Defense study guide, the one Dumont lent me. Lupin borrowed it and didn't give it back. How am I s'pose to do my water demon essay now?"
"What would Lupin need with your Defense Against the Dark Arts study guide for?" Ron asked raising his eyebrows. "That being his field and all?"
"He said he wanted to compare his lecture notes to it," Jade replied, her voice muffled as she plunged her head into her bag in search of the book. "Me and Neville were in so much of a hurry I totally forgot about it."
"Well there's nothing you can do about it now," Hermione said helping Jade re-pack her things. "You might as well concentrate on getting this done. I wish you didn't procrastinate on that essay, but you can use my notes later."
"I thought you said no cheating!" Ron exclaimed.
"It's not cheating," Hermione insisted. "It's guidance. I'm not giving her my paper." Harry snorted and sketched out the Dog Star onto his chart. Jade sighed and began to peer into the telescope.
"You know Harry," she said after a while. "Snape seems to hate Lupin even more than he hates you."
* * *
"I don't get it, Neville," Ernie Macmillan was saying as he stuffed moss around the peculiar mushrooms they were currently working on in Herbology later that week. "I figured someone who liked Herbology would be interested in Healing magic…it's a lot of plant work you know." Neville's face turned scarlet. Harry glanced up from his own planter of mushrooms to look at the round-faced boy. Good to his word, he had not even uttered a word to Ron and Hermione about Neville's parents.
"That besides," Ron added grabbing a handful of moss from the bucket on the table, "we get out of school for two days. What nutter would give up a perfectly good reason to skive off?"
"Yeah, and what I'd give for a day out of school," Ernie said, "even if its to St. Mungo's. I'm sure it's interesting enough, eh Neville?"
"I've seen it, thanks," he replied quietly and Harry felt that it was time to change the subject.
"Hufflepuff prepared for the match against Slytherin next week?" Harry asked.
"I think so," Ernie said suddenly quite enthused by the topic of the match. "That McKennett, she makes an awesome captain." Looking around, he lowered his voice and leaned towards Harry and Ron across the table. "You know she's Cedric Diggory's cousin, right? I think she feels it's her responsibility to play in his memory, or something. She's a real winner, she is. As good as Diggory himself, God rest his soul." Harry nodded suddenly feeling as naked as Neville did when the conversation flitted around St. Mungo's. He had yet to even meet Dina McKennett who was in Cho's year. It was hard enough to face the Hufflepuffs everyday though they never gave him the slightest of a hard time. But he could see the accusation in some of their faces, the way they looked at him as if he would be the chosen sacrifice if they had any say in who should have died last year. And a part of him agreed with them. Ron caught his eye and Harry shook his head forcing a quick smile onto his face.
"We'll show them up, I reckon," Ernie said with a grin.
"You've got my bet," Ron said pleasantly before trying to steer the conversation on to something else, sensing his friend's apprehension about anything regarding the former Hufflepuff hero.
Cedric's life and death was the main reason he had nearly no chance with Cho. He knew it, completely comprehended that. Yet he couldn't bring himself to let Jade off the hook for blabbing. Harry looked across the tables to where Hannah Abbot, her friend Susan, Hermione, and Jade sat. It was an accident, a slip of the tongue, she meant no harm, and he had been really cruel to her in return. Jade, who was trying to up-right a mushroom she had broken, looked up and caught his eye. Her eyes narrowed, and she shot him a nasty glare. Harry's jaw dropped. That wasn't fair, and he feeling bad and all. Fine, he thought. If she wanted to play that game…
"All right, let's clean it up!" Professor Sprout said, dusting her hands on the front of her already soiled skirt. They re-shelved the fungi into their dark closets and took to the exits of greenhouse number four.
Hermione joined Harry and Ron just outside doors, loosening the muffler she had wrapped around her neck.
"Remember that Guardian thing, Harry?" she asked.
"Yeah, you found something already?" he returned preparing to look impressed.
"No."
"Loosing your touch, are you?" Ron teased. She rolled her eyes at him and continued.
"There are about a million different Guardians…the Light Guardian, the Possessor's Guardian, the Guardian Angel, the Guard of the Grail…Snape and Dumbledore could have meant any one of them."
"But whatever they were talking about has been destroyed or something," Ron said. "Doesn't that help?"
"Not in the slightest, considering many of these conjured guards have been destroyed or released of their duties. And many more are no more than myths." Hermione sighed, looking as if her most practical resource (the library) had betrayed her.
"But Voldemort wanted it," Harry mused.
"He can't have it if it no longer exist," Ron noted.
"All right Hermione?" came a voice from their left. "Hi there, Harry, Ron."
"Hello Dean," she replied with a smile.
"You two prepared for the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match in two weeks?"
"You bet your knickers," Ron muttered scowling as the boy flashed Hermione a brilliant grin.
"Where's Seamus?" Harry asked curiously as it seemed Dean was never anywhere without him.
"Talking to Professor Sprout," Dean replied. "He didn't do to well on his end of term exam. Want me to help you with those books Hermione?"
"No, that's all right."
"Because I'm helping her with them," Ron nearly snapped, seizing the handful of books from Hermione's arms. She and Harry shot him curious looks.
"Right then," Dean said awkwardly as Hermione attempted to cast him an apologetic smile. "Anyway, Seamus is trying to negotiate a better grade. I reckon now he might not do that Healing Arts class after all. It's got a lot to do with Herbology, you know."
"Hey Dean! Wait up!" Seamus was flying towards them. Pausing to catch his breath he managed to gasp a quick greeting. "Come with me to Madam Pomfrey's office, will you? I need to speak to her."
"Yeah, okay," Dean agreed before waving them a goodbye and following his friend towards the north entrance of the castle.
"Really, Ron, what's the matter with you?" Hermione snapped as soon as the two boys disappeared, snatching her books from his grasp. Ron's jaw dropped.
"You know what you have in your books?" he asked as if the answer was completely obvious. "Notes, Hermione. He could have just walked off with them, then flown to some desolate corner of the castle to use them for his answers." Harry had to refrain from laughing.
"That's ridiculous," she muttered.
"It's true," Ron replied fervently. "I'm just trying to protect you."
"From what? Imaginary cheaters? Really, Ron, you need to get out more."
"Well that's why I signed up for that Magical medicine thing!"
"Can't we just let it go?" Harry asked.
"No," Hermione snapped. "You're still being stupid about this whole Cho thing, so you don't get a say." He sighed. Darn it, and he thought he'd get a whole hour without that coming up again. When they reached the common room, Harry managed to pry Hermione away from her studies, and attract Ron's attention long enough to engage them in a game of Gobbstones. Soon, friendships were restored and they spent the time curiously pondering about Snape's missions, and Voldemort's new goal.
At a quarter to nine that night, Harry departed through the portrait hole to serve his first of two detentions. Nothing like spending a perfectly good evening rotting away with Snape. It was then he remembered gloomily the offensive odor Jade was engulfed in after her night of detention with the Potions Master.
Harry sighed and pushed open the heavy doors of the dungeon classroom. A foul smoky odor infiltrated his nostrils and he nearly gagged on the pungent fumes.
"Good evening, Potter," came the low, oily voice. Snape was standing over a cauldron, diligently measuring away. Harry stepped into the classroom and heard an unpleasant "squelch" as he feet made contact with a slimy substance on the floor. He made a face and attempted to detach himself from the sticky mess. Snape eyed him from behind a curtain of greasy hair.
"My sixth year Slytherins had a little accident with the stewing frogspawn," he explained without Harry even asking. "They are most eccentric with the more….messy….ingredients."
"I've got to clean this up?" Harry asked, trying to force the bitter resentment from his voice. Knowing Snape, he probably dumped the stuff on the floor himself.
"How receptive you are," the Potions Master returned simply. "Get to it, Potter." And he levitated a wiry brush and bucket to Harry, dropping them at his feet and sloshing cold, gray, water onto his slacks. Slightly fuming, he dropped to his knees and began to work the soapy water into the sticky cracks in the floor.
Two hours later, the cobblestone of the dungeon classroom was nearly stick-free, and Harry's arms were threatening to fall off. Snape had said nothing to him as he was occupied with simmering the potion before him. He was just ladling some into a goblet when Lupin appeared.
"Good evening, Harry," he said pleasantly stepping into the room.
"Hi Professor," he replied, wiping a line of sweat from his brow with his forearm.
"Please don't fraternize with the student being punished, Professor Lupin," Snape said coldly pushing the goblet towards the approaching professor.
"Thank you, Professor," he replied easily taking the goblet and lifting it to his lips. He sipped it slowly, wincing at the absolutely rancid taste, almost as if punishing himself with its flavor.
"You make it better every time," Lupin coughed, tears welling up slightly in his eyes. Harry couldn't help himself and choked down a laugh.
"If you're done being amused, Potter," snapped the greasy-haired professor, silencing him instantly.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled returning his attention to the nearly spotless floor.
"Don't waste your time with apologies," Snape hissed. "I want this floor cleaned, not your half-hearted—," Suddenly his tall frame twisted and a shivering convulsion shook his body. Lupin dropped the goblet and reached out to steady him. The stemmed glass hit the stone floor with a sharp thud as Snape reached forward gripping the edge of the desk. His eyes peered like haunted pools out from the pale face, directly at Harry so that he could feel the startling terror that radiated from the man.
"Severus!" Lupin said trying to pull Snape upright. Snape's right hand was wrapped around the thin pale wrist of his left arm. Harry's eyes widened as the thought hit him. The Death Mark, branded into the flesh on the inside of that arm, was summoning its Death Eaters again.
A/N: I am so sorry I've been so lax in my updating. I've just tackled the last of my midterms…but amazingly enough I've got finals in 2.5 weeks. I also haven't been home much…choosing instead to chill with friends in L.A and 'Frisco…but I swear I'm writing! Anywho, thank you thank you thank you ^ infinite for reviewing. To Celtic Ember: Thank you for catching my typo, I'll fix it asap! Ginny Potter: Good for you catching that tarot card thing! To Nabz: Thank you for giving me a good kick in the rump to hurry up. And to everyone else, you guys are the best, and I hope you enjoyed.
Yours,
Agent 99