_____________________________ Surgite. Ardente veritate Valete, liberi,
Turns out, Aurors could probably see through walls and read minds along with being immune to the deception of Invisible Cloaks. Not only where they forcibly put back into the Gryffindor Common Room, but ten points were already taken off. The band of Aurors that had been stationed around the fat lady were ready to confiscate Harry's invisible cloak when a voice broke clean from the silent dark figures. "No. Let him have it." The figure stepped closer, still undeterminable whether male or female with the low commanding voice. The hooded face came up to Harry's and he could see a flash of white, a smile maybe? "You won't sneak out again, right Mr. Potter?" After a definite reassurance from both Harry and Ron, they fled back to their beds, not talking about it. But tomorrow... tomorrow they'd wonder who that person was. Breakfast was accompanied by the routine receiving of schedules (and a brief scolding from Professor McGonagall who took off another ten points). Apparently, the Auror who had saved Harry's cloak also told the Head of Gryffindor. Harry poked at his food again as Ron moaned over his schedule. "Every year I get one of these things, I always think we'll miss out having anything with the Slytherins. 'Specially Potions. And every daft year I'm wrong! First classes are Transmogrification with Ravenclaw and Herbology with Hufflepuff again then lunch then- oh no!" Harry, who had been looking at the ceiling that was covered with grey clouds, glanced abruptly at Ron, frowning. "What?" "We've got that crazy teacher for O.W.L. Prep after lunch. What was his name? Woombragle? Wumtrinkle? Oh I don't remember, but he looked insane!" Ron moaned again, looking further down on his class list. "And we don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Friday! With Double Potions last, of course, just to make it all better." Harry stared at Ron for a few more moments, waiting for more reactions, but when he got none, Harry looked back up at the windows along the top of the building. Where was Hermione? And how did she expect to get back into Hogwarts with school already starting? There was a loud crash and the splat of food on the floor. Harry glanced over towards the noise, tapping Ron to view what looked like that shy girl, Bryn Val-whatever, had managed to do something involving Draco Malfoy. Harry grimaced. Malfoy. The school bully that had been haunting Harry and his friends since their first year. He wasn't that tall, even Ron and Harry had shot up over the summer, and his pale blonde hair matched his pale eyes and skin, a coldness that never seemed to go away. A coldness that seemed to infect anyone he was around. Harry stood up, leaning over Ron a bit so that he could see what was happening. Bryn had backed away from Malfoy, tightening her robes more around her. Ron laughed and pointed, leaning close to Harry. "She dumped her breakfast on Malfoy! All down his robes!" The end of the Gryffindor table, where the incident had occurred, were up on their feet, trying to get a better view. Ron moved down a bit, making a bit of a way for Harry. They could barely see the four figures in black (Bryn, Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe, Malfoy's two goons), Malfoy's hair extremely bright in contrast to their dark clothes. Malfoy's sharp face was drawn up in disgust and his hands were straining towards Bryn, although one was reaching for his wand. He wiped what looked like remains of toast and pumpkin juice off the front of his robes. "How dare you?! I outta--" But Bryn said, loud enough to block out the rest of Malfoy's words but not raising her voice, "You are not as good as Harry Potter." With that and a spin of her robes, she was gone. The chatter amongst tables was still strong while the area that had witnessed the little incident was dead silent. Each had open mouths that wouldn't close or work. Malfoy looked the worst, sputtering and jerking around. He was sure she had insulted him, but wasn't quite sure how. Finally, the bell rang and the first class was to start. Students rose from the table and filed out the large doors at the end of the Great Hall. Ron managed to keep silent until they were out from beneath the enchanted ceiling, but then he burst out laughing. *** It happened in Herbology. He was squeezing the tubes attached to a long stem of the perdonie flower that was to give Snape the key ingredient to some new potion he was working on. Harry despised most anything that would benefit the Potions teacher and was doing a poor job at keeping the sliced tubes from entering the container along with the liquid. Someone, a certain blonde silent girl, had scooted so close to him that Harry was starting to feel self-conscious, glancing to make sure she wasn't staring at him from time to time. Each time, she hadn't been. Ron, on the other side of Harry, had an amused grin on his face that stayed the whole time. Trying to make the best out of a bad situation, Harry was thinking about the new technique Professor McGonagall was teaching them in Transmogrification. She usually had the class turn animals into objects and back. But now, McGonagall had said that they were to be transforming animals into different animals. Rumor leaked throughout the class that she was training those who had the genes to be Animagus'. The thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he squeezed the perdonie tubes with a bit more accuracy. His dad had been an Animagus and ever since he'd found out, the idea had been on his mind. Of course, with the thought of his dad, it always brought that deep-rooted tinge of pain... "Mr. Potter! If you'd watch what you're doing!" Professor Sprout's voice struck a cord directly in Harry and he snapped to attention. She was normally one of the sane, kind teachers but when he looked down, to where she was pointing, he realized that he had dropped a tube into the liquid. "Hurry up and get it out Mr. Potter, or you'll ruin the batch." He sighed with relief when she didn't take any points and was about to stick his hand into the jar when someone cleared their throat. Bryn held out tweezers to him and offered a tiny smile. Harry returned, albeit smaller and more fake. He then fished out the tube. "Uh... thanks Bryn." He handed them back and her fingers slipped over the entire instrument brushing his. A shock went through him, as if she had been electrified. "I don't think we should be doing this." It was his voice, strong and clear. Whomever was with him shook its head, moving away. "You've got to believe me! I trust her. I really do. And... the others believe the same. She's pregnant for God's sake, you don't think we can take her in?" He frowned, stroking his beard. There wasn't very much of it yet, but it was going to be a great beard. "This isn't my sole decision you know, we're a team, we have to work together." She sat on the stool in his tent, putting her head in her hands. He reached forward and stroked her head softly, feeling compassion well up inside him. "When I look at her, I know that's why we're doing this. That's why we're building this. For people like her." He knelt down in front of her, resting his forehead on her knees. "Alright then. Tell the others that I agree. We'll do this if it's an unanimous decision." A smile broke across her face and she reached down to take him in her arms, her head resting on his shoulder. "It's settled then. She stays with all of us." Eyes opened to a familiar ceiling. Oh no, not the infirmary again, Harry thought with a groan, turning over. But his eyes spotted someone wearing black robes, a student, sitting next to his bed. Harry sat up, feeling completely fine. "Why am I in the infirmary?" He asked Ron, who had brightened when he realized Harry was awake. Another figure came out of the shadows, one with white blonde hair. Harry tried not to groan again and offered a weak smile. "You don't remember Harry? We were in Herbology and Professor Sprout made you get that tube out of the jar we were squeezing that stuff in. Then you just blacked out. Professor Sprout almost fainted too! It was... it was..." "Scary." Bryn finished, folding her hands in front of her and looking down. Harry sighed and jumped off the bed. Nothing seemed to be hurt... "I'm fine." He glanced around for Madame Pomfrey who'd put him back into bed for days. Grimacing, Harry managed to sneak out with Ron and Bryn's help. The girl was mostly quiet, a complete opposite of Hermione. That hurt, deep down. Hermione... His footsteps faltered and the two following him collided, sending him almost crashing forward. But they managed to right themselves and sneak out of the infirmary without being caught. For once in his life. It was later in the day, and Harry barely wondered how long he'd been out. That was the weirdest dream he'd ever had. It wasn't the normal ones, where he was watching what was happening. He was in this, that girl that had been talking; she was talking to him. The feeling was unusual but not really unpleasant, as if it was some memory he could only remember in his sleep. Ron kept giving him looks, like he wanted to say something but he couldn't tell him. Harry was going to say something when he realized exactly why Ron wouldn't talk. A blonde girl was huddled in her robes, walking with quick short steps, following them. "So, uh, you came from Norway?" Harry asked, wincing at the stupidity of the question but trying. Ron raised an eyebrow. Bryn Valfroginhimer or whatever her last name was glanced up, blue eyes widening and looking fearful for a moment. When she registered that Harry was talking to her though, those eyes went soft. "You are not as good as Harry Potter." "I did not mean to use your name Harry Potter." The words were carefully pronounced, like before. It sounded as if she was reading from a script, some plot they were all a part of. "But he did not know what he was going to do. He was hurt, and he did not know what he was doing. People become hostile when they are afraid." She glanced at Ron, narrowing her eyes. It caught him off guard and he was about to say something (something Harry was sure to shatter the extremely fragile person in front of him) when she started up again. "I lived in Norway. But I do not come from there. I am fro-" A choked sound came from her throat that caught both Harry and Ron's flickering attention. Those unnatural blue eyes were wide and her mouth was still open, threatening to close but never quite making it. She was staring at something. Two gazes moved along hers to find a particular person coming from the teacher's lounge. Her question was a hazy mist. "Who's that?" Ron's eyebrows came together in confusion before he frowned deeply, a small noise of disgust escaping his throat. The teacher had now turned, muttering things beneath his breath while trying to balance several books in his arms. Harry watched, tranquil as the teacher looked ready to loose all of the items he was carrying. That crazy girl Bryn, however, watched in a most unnecessary horror as both boys moved not a muscle to help the teacher. Before either one could stop her, she had rushed forth and brought out her wand, a few words springing from her mouth just as books toppled from the arms that were carrying them. The books danced lightly in a jumbled floating pile. Harry was shocked: the spell was perfect and the teacher didn't look furious. His face held instead a strange curious look, one Harry'd never seen before. Well, at least not on that particular person. Flashing black eyes soon found the other two members of the hall and narrowed, some of the coldness seeping back onto his face. Bryn still looked as if someone had tried to kill her puppy, sincere concern was blatant on her face. Slowly, those bottomless eyes turned back to the tiny girl and lost that narrow edge. Bryn took a deep breath and, looking as genuine as an angel with some depthless compassion shining in those eyes, grabbed a hold of the two hands that belonged to the most notoriously abhorrent teacher. "You are good." The words startled the Potions Master and he left his long fingered hands (ones that Ron always told Harry looked like girl's hands) in the grasp of the girl's as he flinched, thin eyebrows furrowing. Moments were lost, between the girl and proclaimed 'good' teacher, between the scarred boy and the redhead who couldn't understand why ten hundred points hadn't been taken off Gryffindor already. The moment had been frozen in seamless crystal. And it was shattered when the door squeaked. Bryn lost her concentration on the spell holding the books up and they clattered to the floor loudly. The teacher drew back his hands into the cold black mouths of his sleeves and scowled angrily at the three Gryffindors. With a quick wave, the books were now lined up behind him in orderly rows. "See to it that I do not catch you between classes again Potter." With that empty threat and a quick flash of black robes, he was gone. Harry frowned at being singled out, but it was quickly lost as his mind pushed urgently forward the event that had just happened. The rational part of his mind was kicking in. Not only had Bryn used magic in the halls, but she'd touched someone that no one even wanted to see. And they hadn't lost any points! Ron looked equally flabbergasted. "Who was that?" Bryn asked softly, gazing at her hands with that cherub purity still plastered all over her face. Ron managed to speak, his voice a bit shaky. "Professor Snape." *** They had missed the first class with Professor Psycho ("Thank the wizards!" Ron has said a bit too loudly) and were late for dinner, weird looks being sent their way. Bryn had been attracting those looks from everyone and there were whispers threading through the halls. Once again, Harry couldn't bring himself to eat any of the food on his plate. Everything he saw flashed before him: after it had already been in his stomach. Ron had no qualms about plunging onward; talking garbled around mouthfuls of food. The blonde next to Harry was quiet, picking at her food and taking tiny bites. Her delicate movements caught Harry's eye and he watched her a few moments. That... dream or whatever it had been, was started by her. Their fingers touched and Harry couldn't remember a time before then that they had skin to skin contact. Or maybe it wasn't her. Maybe it was the fluid from the perdonie plants or maybe someone had placed a curse on him or maybe-- There were too many 'or maybes'. Always too many. And for the life of him, he couldn't narrow any of them down. That had always been Hermione's job. Harry turned away from looking at Bryn Valfreyja and back to Ron, managing to catch the end of a sentence. "-- really freaked him. He's not even at dinner tonight." Of course, it sounded more like 'brily feke im. E's nod ev'n ad dinne tonigd.' But Harry understood the basic meaning. He glanced around the tables once, scouting for whoever Ron was talking about and noticed the empty chair where a normally pale eternally angry Potions Master sat. What had Bryn been doing anyway? What kind of person just touched everybody, proclaiming them 'good'? And why in hell did Snape allow it? If it had been one of them, most likely a hundred points would be off of Gryffindor. It was creepy, creepy and just one more factor in the crazy equation that had been building up. "And it's only the second day of school." Harry moaned, drowning his woes in a tall glass of pumpkin juice. The next week passed uneventfully. Bryn followed Harry and Ron closely, so close that both of them had tripped over her a few times. Of course, that also meant they couldn't sneak around. Not like they could with the Aurors jumping at every sound, shooing every student to class on time. There were no more strange encounters with Snape and Bryn hadn't proclaimed anyone else 'good' or 'not as good as Harry Potter' (although, she still called Harry by his full name and he was certain that if she knew his middle name, she'd call him by that too). That was, of course, until Potions class. The storm that had been brewing still hadn't broken, rolling across the skies in angry grey waves. Harry suspected it was just another thing to make him nervous, considering that he had plenty of time to stare at the ceiling when he didn't eat. Ron was starting to notice and threatened to force-feed him. So now, there were a few pieces of toast floating around in his stomach. 'You better start eating,' he reprimanded himself, 'Angelina will kill you if you aren't in shape for Quidditch next week.' Oliver Wood, who had been the captain for the previous two years, had graduated two years ago and had been replaced by the sixth year Angelina Johnson, who wasn't quite sure what to do. She'd be a good captain, sure, but after having a year free from Quidditch and no instructor; things were a bit shaky. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been very odd, with Professor Whitelighter not even showing up and McGonagall came in halfway through, saying that they were to work on whatever homework they had. Filch, the school caretaker, came inside shortly after McGonagall left and watched like a hawk, his cat Mrs. Norris stalking between the desks. It had been a very anxious morning and Potions hadn't even happened yet. Bryn took a spot in the back for Potions, practically folding in on herself as she sat down. Her face was heart-broken and her hands were clutched tightly in fists around the hem of her robes. Harry was surprised. Considering that stunt she'd pulled with Snape, he figured her to be in the front of class, beaming as the gloomy teacher entered. But that didn't happen. More surprising though, was when Snape entered. His face had more color than his usual pale mask and there was something glittering in his eyes as he took role call, something suggesting that he was late because of a very good reason. Ron noticed it too, nudging Harry in the ribs. "Does it bother you that Snape looks like the cat that ate the canary?" Harry gulped as Snape came close to his name, but the teacher didn't even pause longer than for Harry to choke out a 'here!'. However, when he got to Bryn's name and she meekly replied, he acted as if he hadn't heard her. "Valfreyja, Bryn." He said again, cold eyes glued to the girl sitting in the back of the room. As if gaining some confidence from the ice in his voice and the glare that petrified thousands (although Harry had no idea how that could be possible), Bryn straightened and replied louder. "Here, Professor Snape." Her voice was loud enough to echo a bit off the stone walls and still Snape gave her a strange look. He beckoned her with a small twitch of his hand. "Come sit in the front, Ms. Valfreyja, if you will not produce enough effort for me to hear you clearly." And the tiny girl still looked as if she'd found gold at the end of a rainbow, practically skipping to the front to be seated next to Neville. A deep feeling, one that felt like pity, settled into the bottom of Harry's stomach. Today was going to be a very bad day. Snape went into a lecture about Veritaserum, the ultimate truth potion, and when he asked for the third main ingredient in the potion (which no one knew), he demanded notes that would be collected at the end of class. Poor Neville looked desperately at Bryn, obviously he didn't have either a quill or parchment. Looking rather confident again, she pulled out her wand. "What is she doing?" Ron asked in a harsh whisper, still trying to desperately scribble down things that Snape was saying. The teacher purposely had his voice softer than normal; as to make the entire class silent. Quills scratching against parchment made it hard enough to hear. The blonde had her eyes closed and raised her wand. "Exactly what are you doing Ms. Valfreyja?" The writing stopped and in the dead silence, you could practically hear all the eyes dart forward. Bryn looked completely placid, lowering her wand and giving Snape an odd look. The thin man was bordering on angry. After that, it could only get worse. Her voice wasn't the normal strained sound when she tried to pronounce her words; instead it was that soft tone she'd used earlier, in the last encounter with the Potions professor. "I'm making two quills and two sheets of paper for me and my partner." A muscle near Snape's eye twitched and his frown became a scowl. For once, Harry wondered if the teacher would actually hurt a student. There had always been the fear, but no one really thought that he could truly be that mean... "I don't know what they teach you in Switzerland, Ms. Valfreyja, but we do not perform magic without permission here. Stay after class for your detention." Malfoy snickered from the back of the room and that seemed to break the silence. However, even though the moment had ceased and everything was nice and calm, Bryn muttered beneath her breath. "I came from Norway." Snape, who seemed to be able to hear a pin drop in China, spun around, eyes flashing. Draco Malfoy's snickering stopped but it was to no avail, the teacher didn't do anything. "Scale of dragon's tail is used in one-sixteenth of the Veritaserum potion." And Snape continued. But the class was only half listening. Most of them were focused on the girl in the front, listening attentively to Snape, the girl who had gotten away without death. *** She was left with the thin Potions master, who was writing at his desk. Bryn stood in front of the desk, lightly rocking back and forth on her heels. She would have started to hum, but that most likely would have annoyed him to the point of killing her. So instead, she hummed a song in her head. Staying after class wasn't that big of a bother and of course, she was with him. It wasn't really clear why he appealed to her so. The attraction wasn't sexual at all, but there was something about him, something in those abyss eyes that made her wonder... "Is this my detention?" She asked, ceasing her rocking and leaning forward a bit. The man stopped writing, mid-letter. Then, he resumed. "Is what your detention?" His voice was soft and hard, like velvet over steel. The description pleased Bryn and she leaned more forward, trying to catch a bit of the letter he was writing. "Standing here. They made us do that in Norway. Stand for hours upon end, sometimes even kneeling." She didn't bother to cover up her accent the way she did with the other students. She didn't bother to keep the awe out of her voice or the strange way she said r's or s's or anything. It was nice to talk to someone that she didn't feel the need to hide. "Are you going to give me a detention?" This seemed to have the desired effect, for the man pushed away from his desk and stood, looking straight at her. Bryn smiled, a healthy sincere smile and crossed her arms. Professor Snape did nothing, blinking a few times but that was the extent of his action. Suddenly, his face broke and his eyes locked onto hers, with a strange look she hadn't seen before seeping through the edges. That face startled her and Bryn backed away a bit, her hand automatically going to her wand. Professor Snape noticed the movement and his face steeled itself again. He held out his hand and Bryn placed her wand delicately in his hand. Those deft long fingers quickly ran over the wand, memorizing it and analyzing its structure and purpose. Bryn watched in fascination. Where she used to live, the wands were all created by one man and he only made enough for every new child born in the village. Her wand was created the day she was born and not given to her until her third birthday. Ever since then, it had felt like a part of her. There were legends of some wizards that became symbiotic with their wands and Bryn didn't find that hard to believe. As Professor Snape scrutinized it, she felt herself being picked apart at the seams. It was a horrible feeling. "Twelve inches, cherry wood... strong yet flexible. Does it had a dragon heartstring core?" He asked, whipping the wand around. Bryn watched him with wide eyes. "Two. Dragon heartstrings have a specialty for defense against the Dark Arts." She replied, almost stammering. He had better give her her wand back before she had to rip it out of his dead hands. The answer amused him, thin dark eyebrows rising a bit. "A Double Core is very rare. It can ruin a wizard that doesn't know how to use it properly." It was meant as an insult and Bryn felt it hit dead center. And she couldn't handle it. Why did he have to be so mean? Why couldn't he just be what she knew him to be somewhere? She didn't know how, but Bryn knew that somewhere... this wasn't who he was. "Is this my detention?" Her voice cracked and she was near tears. It hadn't been a good week. Being the new student was a horrid, horrid thing and it was all... coming... down... "Is this my detention? Being insulted and taken down to... to... to nothing?" The Potions master did nothing besides hand her back her wand. Then, he turned and sat back down at his desk, picking up the quill to write again. Bryn did nothing; her wand clasped in her hand felt cold and empty. "Sweep the floor and straighten the desks. That will be your detention." He never looked up at her again. Bryn set to the simple tasks he asked her to do. A small smile worked back up onto her face. From what Ron and Harry Potter said, he was a very strict teacher and liked cruel and unusual punishments. He likes me; she thought slyly and started humming as she worked. *** The forest was all surrounding. It was dark, the moon only a tiny sliver in the sky. His feet were pounding against the ground as he thundered through the forest. Branches snagged at him and he pushed them out of his way, ignoring the blood. "Did you find her?" He yelled to his companion, a few feet away. The man shook his head and started running off again. Both were panting loudly. She didn't know her way around the forest yet. None of them really did. And he'd found her wand in her tent. Everyone was seriously worried. One of them had stayed back at the camp, in case the missing girl returned. But that was almost a futile ploy. Things were so crazy, so crazy... There was sobbing from somewhere and his ears perked up. He ran forward, listening not to his thudding feet or his pounding heart, but to the soft almost inaudible sounds. There was a flash of color and his companion had found her first. She was crying, a large gash in her belly. The other's apprentice was crying onto her wound, desperately trying to heal it. Her smile was sad and she stroked the bird, loving him for his effort. "She's going to be fine. I'll close it up with a healing spell then let him cry a bit more." He nodded, about to settle down and wait for her to be healed when a scream pierced through the sky. He took off running for the camp. Harry sat straight up in bed, breathing hard and feeling his clothes sticky with sweat. He could still hear the scream. And it was still screaming. Slowly, Harry slipped out of bed and grabbed his Invisible Cloak, creeping through the Common Room to the opening. He was going to get out of here and help that girl that was screaming. Those screams sounded so frightened... they made him afraid of whatever she was facing. But when he opened the portrait a crack, an Auror was standing out there, talking quietly with Professor Dumbledore. Both looked very secretive and Harry wished desperately that he'd brought out his wand to use that spell Flitwick had taught them in Charms, the one to magnify senses. He caught vague phrases, such as 'the Four', 'here', and 'scared'. But nothing larger than that. The Auror stopped speaking suddenly and turned directly towards the painting. Harry dropped it and prayed that he hadn't been caught. He would be in so much trouble... With another listen, the screaming had stopped and Harry put it in the back of his mind. Just another freaky dream. Nothing big. God, it was getting that bad. He was still tired and Harry sleepily moved through the Common Room. That's when he noticed that the fire was burning and there was a figure seated in one of the chairs. He peered forward, trying to get a clearer picture. When the face came into focus, Harry gasped. It couldn't be... "Hello Harry." |
Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali
By: Notus Lethe
Book 5: Because of Voldemort's recent uprising, Aurors have been situated about the school. But that's not the only thing that's strange this year.... Harry, Hermione and a few others are changing into someone else...
Rated: Fiction M - English - Supernatural - Harry P. - Chapters: 6 - Words: 24,171 - Reviews: 45 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 2 - Updated: Dec 10, 2002 - Published: Jun 18, 2001 - id: 322231
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