D/C: We're heading into ch. 22 now, and the HP characters still don't belong to me…Call me crazy, but I'm sensing a trend here…
Ch. 22: All Those that are Jaded
The smell of dust and decay drifted from the catacombs above where the cave ceiling had fallen in. With Lily's help, James knelt before the two bodies pinned beneath the rubble, taking care to not disturb the pooling blood. The figures where silent, faces hidden, remains pinned between rock and stone ground. He reached a trembling hand forward, glancing back to find Lily's perplex stare. With a swift movement, James pulled back the hoods.
"Oh god," Lily choked unable to look away. A man and woman stared sightlessly back at her, only a handful of years older than herself and James. Despite the cold look of fear, of being killed by surprise, their faces were pleasant, common, having the familiarity of friendly neighbors.
"I can't believe it," James muttered, falling back into Lily. "No, they can't be…"
"They can't be what?" Harry said angrily. "What is it?"
The Potters didn't move a hair at their future son's voice. Harry pressed in on them, trying in vain to get their attention as the mounting frustration and anger at not understanding threatened to break him. These images had to have a meaning. Life was simply beyond unfair if they didn't. Harry pushed his way between his parents, but they gave him no answers nor showed an inkling of his presence.
"Why? Why am I seeing this? JUST TELL ME!"
"Harry?" a voice called from somewhere far away, pulling him from the fast-fading images of his parents and the two dead Death Eaters. Just as the last of the dreams drifted away, he became aware of the light that filtered through his eyelids.
"Harry?" Hermione repeated worriedly. With a bit of effort, Harry managed to open his eyes to find she and Ron half-standing over him, looks of anxiousness blanketing their already blurry features.
"What—?" Harry managed to croak. He tried to sit up, but found he only succeeded with Ron's help. After sipping from a goblet Hermione had placed in his hand, he finally felt capable of speaking properly.
"What happened?" he repeated reaching over to retrieve his glasses on the bedside table.
"You don't remember?" Ron asked slowly. "The Promenade?"
"The Promenade," Harry echoed, pausing thoughtfully in attempts to recall the evening. "I went with Cho, and then I was dancing with Jade…and then—where is she anyway?" he looked around aware that she was nowhere to be seen.
"Jade's—," Hermione attempted awkwardly. "Jade's been around…"
"Wait a minute," he asked slowly, his brow knitting. "I didn't—hurt—her, did I?"
"No!" his friends replied quickly, stumbling over each other's explanations as they tried to speak at the same time. Hermione eventually won the verbal battle.
"It's just," she said with difficulty, "Harry—your scar hurt that night…we've never seen you in so much pain." She quickly turned away to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes.
For Harry, it was slowly starting to fall into place. He had been talking with Jade on the dance floor when she had reached up to kiss him on the forehead. The moment she touched him was when the pain began. He struggled to force away the foreboding wave that began to take over his lungs. Something was amidst, he thought. Jade couldn't have done that to him…there was just no way…was there? Unable to fight the epiphany, he attempted to steer the conversation away from her.
"How long was I out?" he asked bluntly.
"Little over a day," Ron answered uneasily. "Ever since you—on the dance floor. Dumbledore and Price rushed you to the hospital wing—"
"Price?" Harry exclaimed, shooting up from the pillows, regretting it moments later as his head began to throb in protest. "What was he doing here?"
"Bringing Dumbledore news," Ron said. "Fudge has been withholding information…to keep the country from going into mass hysterics—"
"What are you saying?"
"There's evidence that—" Hermione took a quick, shuddering breath "—that Voldemort is back in England…"
"What?" Harry breathed. "Where?" He had a sinking feeling that everything had drastically changed in a matter of a day.
"In Manchester," Ron said unsteadily. "And possibly Sheffield."
"Price came here the other night behind Fudge's back to make sure Dumbledore knew," Hermione added. "The Headmaster's sent everyone and their families letters about the possible threat…"
Harry looked away from his friends, remembering what Arabella Figg had blurted out several nights before…that Voldemort had moved, and he had a reason to. Suddenly, feeling like the bottom of his stomach had dropped away he realized he was the only occupant of a bed in the hospital wing.
"Sirius," he said quickly. "Where is he? He hasn't gone yet, has he? I need to speak to him." Before either Ron or Hermione could reply, the ward door slowly swung open. Arabella Figg entered accompanied by the large figure of a black dog that crept along beside her as if it were her shadow. As soon as the door was closed and charmed to lock, Sirius appeared before them looking both relieved and anxious at the sight of his godson.
"Harry, you're awake," he said sweeping up beside Hermione. "How are you feeling?"
"Obviously better than a day ago," Harry replied smiling with relief that Sirius was still there. For a moment, they all sunk into a silent sort of stupor until Figg cleared her throat.
"Hermione? Ron?" she said gently. "Perhaps you could accompany me to the Headmaster's office…I need to see him before we go."
"You're going?" Harry asked bluntly though it really was no surprise to him.
"Come on, Ron," Hermione insisted firmly, grabbing his hand and pulling him after Figg who nodded them politely out.
"Don't do this," Sirius said sitting wearily in the chair that had, until recently, occupied Hermione.
"You just got here, you've barely rested," Harry insisted trying to keep his heart from lodging in his throat. "Besides, it's not like it's absolutely certain Voldemort's back."
"You're starting to sound like Cornelius Fudge," Sirius said. He averted his eyes, picking up a get-well card aimlessly that Ginny had made for Harry.
"Besides, that's not the point," he continued. "I can't hide here forever, and if there's a chance Voldemort's out there, I've got to be out there too. That's my priority—,"
"Staying alive should be your priority," Harry shot back more heatedly than he meant.
"You don't understand."
It only took one look at him to tell Harry that Sirius knew that wasn't true; if anybody understood him, it was Harry Potter.
"When are you leaving?" he asked feeling jaded by the entire conversation.
"Soon," Sirius replied, finally making eye contact with his godson. "You haven't said if you were okay yet."
"I'm fine," Harry replied without giving it a second thought. Truthfully, he wasn't sure and he sensed Sirius knew it. Luckily, he didn't comment, leaving both of them in the stifling and awkward silence. It was Black who finally spoke.
"I've got to go, Harry," he said. "But I just wanted to tell you something—," he paused looking slightly uncertain. "—Your scar hurting, what happened to you at the ball…I want you to see that as a warning. Just be careful."
"Of what?"
"Of Jade."
"Not this again," Harry said shaking his head angrily. "That's not fair! These half warnings everyone gives me! You can't keep telling me she's mental and she's dangerous and not tell me why!"
"We still don't know why she lost her memory, how she ended up here," Sirius said getting up. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. Arabella and I have to get going."
"You don't have to," Harry said stubbornly swinging his legs off the bed. "You want to." Sirius attempted to prevent him from getting up by placing a hand on his shoulder.
"That's half true," he admitted thickly. "But you know I couldn't sit back and watch Voldemort do what he did to your parents to other innocent people…what he did to you. Please don't ask me to."
Harry angrily brushed Sirius's hand away. He wasn't being fair to him and he knew it. He was acting childish, and he couldn't even bring himself to look at his godfather's hurt expression. Maybe he was jealous of Sirius, jealous of the fact that it was all right for Sirius to risk his life hunting down the Dark Lord while he could only stay behind. Harry, quite frankly, felt defenseless.
"At least tell me something if you're going to go," he said quietly examining every detail of his pajamas in attempts to hold his temper. "Tell me what happened the night of my parents' last mission."
"I've got to go," Sirius replied hastily as he stood up.
"Two people died that night, didn't they?" Harry pressed.
"They were Death Eaters, Harry."
"But why do I keep seeing them?"
"Another day."
"Then you have an answer."
"I've got to go," Sirius insisted gruffly. He started for the door, but Harry leaped after him, nearly crashing to ground as the blood rushed to his legs.
"What are you doing?" Sirius asked weakly, catching Harry before he could crash-land face first into the floor. The irritation was gone from his voice, and he looked earnestly at his godson.
"There's a reason I'm having these dreams, I know it," Harry insisted, standing straight with Sirius's help. "And I know you can at least fill in the blanks for me."
"No, I can't—,"
"Yes you can, the question is why you won't."
"Take care of yourself," Sirius replied quickly releasing his arm.
"I wish you'd do the same," Harry shot back bitterly. Sirius quickly turned away, and Harry watched as his shoulders nearly gave to the impossible weight they must have carried. He had only seen that sort of helplessness in his godfather once before and that was when he was sitting beside him in Dumbledore's office after the third task. Sirius extinguished the moment nearly immediately, but it was enough to leave Harry inches from begging him to stay. He refrained, though the unfairness of it all was suffocating; he couldn't bring himself to torture Sirius that way.
Black opened the door, looking out for any meandering students. As he slipped from the wing, Harry caught his dark eyes as he peered over his shoulder.
"I—I'll see you soon," Sirius muttered awkwardly, before melting into the form of a large, black dog, and disappearing from view.
* * *
"Heard you did an awesome dance at the Promenade," Malfoy smirked the next day as he brushed past Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the halls. "The 'Girly Faint shuffle' you called it?" Crabbe and Goyle sniggered as Harry forced himself to stare straight ahead. Malfoy along with a small minority of students set against attending the promenade had been unfortunate enough to miss Harry's "episode".
"And why would we reduce ourselves by participating in a muggle tradition?" Malfoy had preached around the school in the weeks leading up to the Promenade. He didn't make it a secret that he would have entertained the idea of making an appearance had he known Harry was going to end up embarrassing himself in the middle of the dance floor.
It had been a day since Madam Pomfrey had at last released Harry from the hospital wing; three since the Promenade, but the events of that night were still very fresh in everyone's mind.
From farther down the hall, Malfoy sniggered and imitated the "Girly Faint Shuffle" for a knot of his friends who were laughing merrily. Though directed at him, Harry felt slightly relieved to hear the sound of laughter (even if it was mostly from Slytherin), as it seemed there would be very little of it in the days to come.
Him "fainting" offered a comical balance to the very frightening news that had arrived nearly simultaneously with his scar burning. Him "fainting" was something humorous that could be taken from that night, so he gritted his teeth and laughed it off when his peers teased him about it (the exception of course, being any teasing from Malfoy, which is always malicious, and never in good humor). After all, Harry reasoned, they didn't know what had really happened inside his head; they couldn't know the true meaning of it all. But they did know about Voldemort.
Apparently Dumbledore received Price's news whole-heartedly. The ball was swiftly dissembled, the attendees quickly hurried to their common rooms. The next day (in which Harry was still unconscious in the Hospital wing) letters to parents were sent, and the announcement was made to the entire school that there was valid suspicion that Voldemort was back.
"He's just a—a prick," Hermione huffed rather scathingly under her breath. It was so unnatural for her to call anyone, even Malfoy names, that Harry couldn't help but laugh. He smiled appreciatively at her.
"I'd bet my wand Malfoy's dad has already had You-Know-Who over for tea," Ron spat crossly.
They entered their Defense classroom and chose seats near a pile of unused cages as the rest of their fellow Gryffindor fifth years flowed in.
Jade was one of the last to arrive. She shuffled in; her shoulders hunched, and immediately chose a seat as far away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione as possible. The rumor was that she had done something to Harry the night of the Promenade. Harry had noticed the way people retreated into conversation behind cupped hands as she passed. Many began to skirt her in the halls and avoided sitting near her in class and at meals. Not that she seemed bothered by it.
Harry hadn't gotten a chance to speak to her since the dance, as it was only his first day back to class, and she had managed to avoid him at ever opportunity.
According to Hermione, Jade had been growing increasingly introverted since the night of the dance, apt to snapping at the few people who still tried to engage her in conversation.
"She honestly believes she did that to you," Hermione had said the other night looking worriedly from Harry to Ron. Harry hadn't answered, just nodded his agreement when Ron insisted that that was ludicrous.
But now, at the sight of Jade, Harry's mind waged a war over whether or not Sirius, Snape, and Dumont may be right about her. He shook his head; it was irrelevant. How could she have a connection to Voldemort? That's who made his scar hurt after all, not people with memory loss. Sirius's paranoia was rubbing off on him, Harry decided.
But she looked so strange, with adverted eyes, hair matted and uncombed…shifty even. He quickly chastised himself for even thinking it: Jade was his friend, and thoughts of suspicion were acts of betrayal against their friendship, which he had once before nearly ended on account of his bad judgment.
Harry was spared any further thought with the entrance of Professor Lupin.
"Good morning," he greeted his class, flashing the briefest of smiles as he flopped his battered briefcase onto his desk. "As Professor Dumont will not be able to join us today, we'll move on from dueling temporarily. Today's lesson will be a furthering of our past lessons on the power of the mind. As you've discovered from what we've covered this year, the discipline of the mind is the source of your most able defense…something you all need to understand considering we may be in the wake of very dark times."
His reaction was minimal to the sudden wave of disquiet that had hit the class. He smiled sympathetically at them and proceeded to write three words on the board:
Cognito Ergo Sum"Anyone know what this means?" Lupin asked as he turned around. "How about you, Jade?"
"My Latin's a bit rusty," she muttered flatly. A few students turned to look at her curiously. That wasn't true, Harry thought. The few words she actually knew or understood eight months ago were Latin. Ron exchanged a raised eyebrow with him as Hermione swallowed and slowly raised her hand. .
" 'I think, therefore I am'," she said quietly. "It was the statement developed by Rene Descartes to prove his power of thought was concrete evidence that he existed. He made it in Meditations on First Philosophy."
"Excellent, Hermione," Lupin said. "Five points to Gryffindor on account of your thoroughness."
"Rene Descartes," he continued leaning back onto his desk. "Was a scientist, a believer of what was the beginnings of modern philosophy during the European Renaissance—,"
"He wasn't a wizard?" Dean asked puzzled.
"No, Descartes wasn't a wizard," Lupin answered patiently. "However his ideas affected the development of magic just as much as it affected science. You see, prior to the Renaissance, there was a blurred line between science and magic, and often those practicing magic would claim their works to be science, yet they ineptly understood either field. Alchemy was mostly a futile study as sorcery was not yet understood and science could not extract its roots from the common diluted ideas of magic. Only Nicholas Flamel, Hsi Yu Chi, Morgana De Fey, and Merlin proved to be able wizards of that era. They were self-taught, and perhaps possessed a more capable frame of mind to tap into their powers. For most others who had magical capabilities however, there was no understanding as to how magic was supposed to be honed, used, or developed. That's no problem for any witch or wizard today, as we have schools and books to teach magical skills, as well as the aid of wands."
"What does this have to do with Day-cart?" Lavender asked.
"Just getting there," Lupin said. "As I said Descartes was a scientist, but he understood that science would need a new solid foundation, neither based on magic or religion if it is to be furthered. The only way he saw this possible was to strip down all his beliefs, start over theoretically; find truths that cannot be countered, that are absolutely certain."
"After dispelling the world around him, deeming the senses to be deceiving as one can not always accurately sense what is around him, and calling his beliefs and mathematical truths into question because they could've been implanted into his mind by a Deus Deceptor, or evil creator, he questions his existence."
"Descartes came to conclude that he does exist, because if, in fact this Evil Almighty did exist to deceive him he too must exist to be deceived."
Harry could hear everyone scribbling frantically away, the only exception being himself and Ron (both were thoroughly lost) and Jade, who was slowly pulling apart one of her quills. If he was lost, he knew she should be, so why wasn't she bothering to pay attention? Beside him, Ron gulped loudly.
"It's like saying you couldn't copy my homework if I never did it," Hermione whispered to them. "Little chance of that happening—or me letting you copy for that matter, but never mind that. In order for you to copy my work, it'd have to exist. In order to be deceived, you must exist to be deceived."
"Really cleared that one up," Harry muttered turning a bit to cast one more curious look at Jade.
"This logical system of elimination," Lupin was saying underlining the world, Cognito, "leads Descartes to the idea of the 'Thinking substance'. Therefore, his capability of thought, of reason, of making choices proved that he is in fact real. We won't go further into detail with his meditations, but he also concludes that we are composed of a soul, which is our concrete 'cognito' or thinking substance. The soul is the harbor of our emotions. The idea is, a firm foundation of thought is created in this trek to develop a more rational science. This pure thought paves the road to better defense. What makes magic so potent is trust in its existence, trust in your existence, and the understanding that those two truths will make your power possible."
"Now I know much of that lecture went over your heads, but it is important you understand some things: one, Descartes' mind experiment is not literal; he is using scientific deduction to prove what we all very well know, developing a basis for how science should be approached. And two, through the power of his mind, his thoughts, though he has never touched a wand, open many doors for the control of magic." Lupin picked up his wand and commanded a bit of chalk to sweep under the Latin phrase on the board.
"Your homework for tonight is to explain how Descartes' ideas relate to the development of magic, and how that development is needed for Defense Against the Dark Arts, make sure to think about this as it will be on our exam—," he was interrupted as Dumont suddenly flew into the room, out of breath, her oblong frames askew.
"Professor…Lupin…" she panted. "Need…help…dungeons. I've accidentally liquefied the floor." Whispers went around the room and some people sniggered into their hands. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron and Hermione.
"If Dumont's just been teaching Potions," Harry said, "that means Snape's just been called."
"If the bell rings before I get back," Lupin said quickly walking towards Dumont, "you all are excused. Pardon me."
"Cognito Ergo Sum," Dumont read over Lupin's shoulder, finally catching her breath.
"Come on," he urged taking her elbow. For a moment she didn't move, just stared at the words. Shaking her head, she turned from the blackboard, tore from his gentle grip and led the way out. Lupin didn't look a bit insulted as he disappeared into the corridor.
"I think I over did the Cobra venom," they could hear her explain as the two instructors' footsteps faded away.
* * *
"We'll never get in any decent practicing in before our match against Hufflepuff," Angelina was saying woefully a few evenings later to Fred. They had just finished a rather short practice, as students were no longer allowed to use the quidditch facilities without a staff member present. Despite that, everything else seemed to continue like clockwork. Harry couldn't believe the level of relative norm that was continuing about the castle. Most of the students walked about as if it were any other year free of threat from the Dark Lord. The only evidence of fear was tighter security and rules and the sudden request of some parents for their children to be sent home. In the end, a handful of students had gathered before the front doors awaiting carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade Station and hopefully somewhere safer than Hogwarts. One of them was Cho who seemed infuriated by her parents' request to have her home.
"Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain," she had said heatedly to Harry as he stopped in the Entrance Hall to keep her company as she waited. "It's not fair…all because word got out that You-Know-Who's back in England..." Harry was sorry to see her leave.
Justin Finch-Fletchy had also been among the students leaving. He explained that his parents, upon hearing of the possible danger placed on the magical community, had insisted he come home. He had said they didn't understand the Dark Lord put everyone, magic or muggle in danger.
It got Harry to thinking why Hermione had failed to utter a mention of her parents' reaction to Voldemort's return. It seemed too serious of matter for her not to bring up. Curious, he had asked her as they did their Defense essays in the library the next day. She guiltily looked up from her parchment expertly avoiding both Ron and Harry's curious gazes.
"I intercepted Dumbledore's letter," she said quietly. "Mum and Dad would have insisted I come home…I didn't want them to worry, and I couldn't bear to leave. Not now, not after what I've learned and what's happened." Maybe that was what made her a Gryffindor.
"Hi there, Harry," Ron said as Harry entered the common room and joined them near an open window. Outside the weather was comfortably hot, like warm cotton on the skin; it was hard to believe anything bad could ever happen; the trail of murders possibly by Death Eaters had stopped months ago.
"'Lo," Harry said sitting down. "Tried talking to Jade today?"
"She still avoids everyone," Ron said exasperatedly. "She even told Fred and George to choke on their ton-tongue toffees when they tried joking with her."
"It's like she's pushing everyone away," Hermione said. "And now she's insisting on moving back into the Hospital wing. She won't even let me help her; she's up in our dormitory gathering her things as we speak." Harry shook his head. Any attempts to explain to Jade that she had nothing to do with what had happened to him that night of the Promenade was thwarted by her remarkable ability to disappear. He, Ron, and Hermione had spent the last three days trying to talk to her, but Jade wouldn't hear of it. Running a hand over his face, he leaned forward, noticing a letter sitting on the table beside Ron.
"That for me?"
"Yeah," Ron replied pushing the envelope towards him. He sloppily tore it open.
Dear Harry,
Upon receiving this, I would like for you to report to my office. Not to worry, you are not in trouble. Just say your name upon reaching the gargoyle. It is expecting you.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"Dumbledore," he answered, stuffing the letter into his jeans. "Asks that I go speak to him." Waving them a quick goodbye, he made his way back out of the portrait hole towards the Headmaster's office, wondering if he was about to receive bad news about Sirius, or be told that the Ministry wanted him out of Hogwarts or something equally horrible.
"Harry Potter," he muttered weakly when he found himself face to face with the now familiar gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The stone creature leaped aside and Harry was whirled up the dizzying steps. The oak door was open at the top of the stairs and Harry stepped in, finding the Headmaster bent over several stacks of parchment.
"Excuse me, Professor," Harry said clearing his throat.
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said barely lifting his head. Harry was startled of the weariness in the old man's voice.
"Come in, have a seat. Don't mind the mess. Just letters confirming a meeting with the Longbottoms."
Harry walked in sitting down stiffly in one of the chairs facing the Headmaster's desk. The familiar whirls and swooshes from the curious contraptions and the occasional rustle of parchment filled his ears.
"Er…Professor?"
"Oh, yes, sorry," Dumbledore apologized, pushing the letters away from him. He seated himself into his winged armchair gracefully, pulling his spine tall as he placed his hands together, fingertips to fingertips, so that they formed a steeple before him.
"I've wanted to talk to you since you woke up a few days ago," the Headmaster explained. "But alas, it seems some very pending matter arose that refused to be ignored, as I'm sure you understand."
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked awkwardly, dying to know.
"I wanted to talk to you about your episode at the dance," Dumbledore said slowly. "Your scar hurt. I wanted to get your opinion on what you think caused that."
"Voldemort," Harry blurted out. "I mean—not there at the moment, just—,"
"Danger."
"Yes."
They both settled into silence for a while, Dumbledore's eyes unreadable behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Professor," Harry finally said, "you told me to let you know if those dreams I've been having—about my parents, became threatening."
"Are you telling me they have?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"No," he replied quickly. "Not exactly. But they're trying to tell me something… I don't think it's random, anyway." As the words left his mouth, Sirius's voice echoed in the back of his mind: Because something wants you to know.
"Do you think those dreams caused your scar to hurt?" Dumbledore asked leaning forward a bit as if intrigued by what Harry had to say.
"I honestly don't know," Harry replied. He thought back to that night out by the lake, but all he could recall was Jade's touch just before the pain began.
"There's rumors flying around that Jade was the cause of it—"
"Rumors have a way of spreading like wildfire," Dumbledore supplied. "But they only have substance if those who hear it believe it."
"Jade seems to," Harry answered brusquely.
"She hasn't come around, has she?" Dumbledore shook his head and sunk back into his seat. "I've tried explaining what happened at the Promenade to her. For some reason, she has taken what happened to you very much to heart. It was very frightening to see you like that Harry, even I could not surmise the pain you must have been in."
Harry could feel his face reddening. He didn't like to talk about the bad things that had happened to him.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask me?" Dumbledore said. Harry sat up straight, brows knitting as he looked up at the Headmaster. There were too many questions. What were his parents after? What if Sirius was right about Jade? Why was Voldemort suddenly drawn back to England?
"Who died the night of my parents mission?" Harry finally asked quietly.
"Two Death Eaters," Dumbledore said and upon seeing the look on Harry's face, added, "Who had once worked very close with your parents in the fight against Voldemort."
Harry let out a slow breath, sinking back against the chair. His parents were betrayed that night…and it was the miraculous rockslide that saved them. Dumbledore let the answer ferment a bit before clearing his throat.
"I hope that is enough for now," he said smiling warmly at him. Harry nodded and sensed that it was time to leave.
"Thank you, Professor."
"Thank you, Harry."
Harry turned and exited the office feeling more inadequately informed than ever, yet not knowing if any more answers were possible. He made his way through the corridors barely aware of the few people that passed.
"Move, Potter," a voice snarled at him, bringing him back to his senses.
"Professor Snape," Harry said, startled as he caught sight of the Potions master. "I thought you were already—,"
"There is such a thing," Snape hissed, "as thinking too much." And without any further exchange, he glided past in a cloud of black cape towards Dumbledore's office.
What was Snape still doing at Hogwarts? Harry thought. Suddenly a thought dawned on him: Snape must be loosing his touch if Price had to inform Dumbledore of Voldemort's arrival in England.
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room Harry joined Ron and Hermione who were practicing charms for the end of year exams.
"You should have mastered the summoning charm last year!"
"I did!"
"Prove it then."
"I can't right now, you're making me nervous!"
"And what if you were in peril and the only that could save you was the accio charm?" Hermione returned. "Are you going to explain to St. Peter that you were nervous?"
"Fine," Ron exclaimed taking out his wand and pointing it at a book on a table near Harry. "Accio book." Suddenly Harry was tugged forcefully, and found him self speeding towards Ron who's eyes were wide with surprise.
"Oops."
"ARGH!"
BAM! The collision sent both Ron and Harry tumbling over an armchair, as they took down a large desk with them.
"So glad you were able to prove me wrong," Hermione countered sarcastically as she helped Harry to his feet, looking unimpressed at Ron's sprawled form.
"Thanks Ron," Harry muttered dusting himself off. "But really, I could have walked the extra three steps without your help." After Ginny had rushed over to make sure they were all right, and the furniture was righted, Harry told them about Snape.
"You think Voldemort's suspicious of Snape's loyalty?" Hermione asked.
"Don't you think Dumbledore would have gotten news sooner about Voldemort if Snape was really on good terms with Voldemort's inner circle?"
"I reckon he's not going to last very long if this is true," Ron muttered. "I mean—wait a second. Jade's in the common room." Hermione and Harry followed his gaze to a point just to the left of the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitory. Jade was hunched over a book, a box of her articles at her feet.
"Let's go talk to her," Harry insisted getting up. As they approached, they noticed how unkempt she had become. Her robes were hastily put on, revealing a rumpled shirt and unpressed slacks. Her nose was inches from the book in her hands, and her fingers skated across the page she was reading as if they could absorb the words through their tips.
"Jade?" Hermione said. Jade's head snapped up revealing a sort of crazed look in her eye…very much like the look Dumont gave during the sword dueling demonstration during Defense Against the Dark Arts. The book tumbled from her hands, as she snatched up the box at her feet.
"Here, let us help you," Hermione attempted, but she was pushed aside as Jade brushed past.
"Come on, Jade," Ron said. "What's your hurry?"
"I've got to go pack," she mumbled under her breath. "My parents have heard about You-Know-Who. They've requested I come home." Hermione picked up the fallen book and she, Ron, and Harry quickly followed Jade across the room.
"You're leaving? To Bulgaria?" Harry said catching up to her.
"France," she answered without stopping. "I'm meeting them there in two days." She only stopped to kick open the portrait hole.
"Jade," Harry insisted. "We need to talk." She stopped and whirled around.
"We should have never talked," she said before pushing past and rushing down the hall.
"Wait—," Harry reached out, but before he could stop her, he hastily pulled his hand back as if she were fire. As he watched her depart, he found that he was breathing quickly; a small trickle of sweat was running down his brow. Drawing back from the entrance, he realized that he was afraid of Jade.
"Why'd you stop?" Ron demanded watching Jade's form disappear down the hall.
"I—," Harry struggled but was interrupted by Hermione who seemed suddenly as drawn into the book as Jade was.
"This is not a time for studying!" Ron exclaimed.
"No," Hermione said shutting him up. "This is Jade's Defense Against the Dark Arts study book…except … except the missing chapter…it's not missing anymore."
"What d'you mean?" Ron asked.
Eyes wide, she turned the book around so that they could see. Sure enough, "Chapter 24: Manifested Powers and Dark Existences" stared back at them.
A/N: another cliffee…I hope you didn't hurt yourself in the fall there. First off, apologies for taking this side of forever to update—I've been kept busy by loads of academic and financial demands…gah, why must real life constantly intrude? Anywho, big fat thank yous to everyone who read and reviewed, honestly your thoughts and comments help get me through the week. I hope you enjoyed this chapter…looks like it's the beginning of the end. Anywho, please take a moment and tell me what you think, all comments are thoroughly appreciated. You, my friend, rock. Reviewer thanx below----that's all for now, see you next chapter…don't forget, be kind, rewind…er…review!---
~Agent 99
HpFan and Aggie Pack: Dude, you guys are nuttier than squirrel poop. I love you, erin, even if you do choose to speak "calculus".
Josh Witt: It's been ages! It was fabtacular to see your review, thanks for stopping in!
Eleanor Lyndon: You so rock. Thanks for reviewing; I hope you found this chapter as likeable as the previous ones…I like to hope this fic is still going somewhere :)
Tetra Magami: Ron and Hermione were meant for each other…how else would world war III erupt? ;)
Sugar quill: agh! You've got loads of fics! I'll have to check them out as soon as I have time. Thank you so much for reviewing!
Dark Jedi Princess: Thanks so much for reviewing (again, and again…dude, I love you!). Keep up the great work on your own fics!
Misty gurl: I hope you had a blast at your own prom, thanks for reviewing, you are fabtacular, but then I repeat myself :)
Lukias: You neglected studying for the hsc on account of this fic? Dude, you're the best. I bet you did fab on the exams anyway. Honestly, I laughed out loud reading your reviews, you should take your show on the road. Thanks for checking out my fan art, too, I'm glad you like them…as amateurish and unsatisfying as they be, blah. Anywho, you, my friend, are the best.
Veronica Lupin: I only wish my time was spent as productively as yours. Ah, well, best of luck to you for all 8 million things you're tackling as of late, and I'm just happy to hear that you haven't given up on your awesome fic. Dude! Carpel syndrome! Please, please, please, please don't somehow manage to work so hard your fingers fall off. I find the opposable thumb to be quite the human attribute, how else would we play Nintendo? Thanks again, you're the best.
Ginny Potter: well, guess what? Your guess was right! Go on, pat yourself on the back :) thanks so much for reviewing; I always enjoy reading them from you.
Magical Mischief maker: aw shucks…you, honestly made my day with your review. I am no where near J.K rowling's level of talent…I am, at best, several distant galaxies away to her writing or many other authors in this fandom, but thank you so much for the compliment. I'm sorry I was lax on "passion", but I just can't make myself write too much of the good stuff…hmmm…call me adolescent, but writing in "the kiss" was tuff. Could you forgive me? Ah well, Thanks for taking the chance and reading this fic, I'm so glad you enjoyed…I hope this chapter is up to boot!
Pete: Thanks so much for the emails! I know you must have atrocious constraints on your time. Thank you for taking a moment to let me know what you think despite that, you're the best! Take care!
Twinkletoes: Nice hearing from you! I'll be sure to stop by and check out your fic as soon as I have time, I'm sure it's great!