Look! It's my new chapter! Ok, I know you're going to kill me. I'm sorry. With ff.net on constant downs, I didn't know what was a good time to upload. So now is as good as any I guess. Remember that all italics are flashbacks and enjoy! I'm working on Chapter Four which includes the next Quidditch game and Halloween! Yay! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!
Harry
Potter and the Liberi Fatali _____________________________ Surgite. Ardente veritate Valete, liberi, "How how did you get here?" His mind was reeling. Information had to be leaking from somewhere in his head because the scene was just not possible. Harry moved in front of the girl, nervously reaching inside his hastily put on robe for anything to make him feel secure. Alas, there was nothing. The girl sighed louder than was necessary. "Has anyone other than me read Hogwarts: A History? Before there were any methods of mass transportation, students of Hogwarts had to enter through the Front Gate." A faint blush spread over her cheeks but Harry could hardly see it in the firelight. "The minotaur guarding the Gate was very adamant in restricting me from entering." Harry stared, trying to reroute that information to the part of his brain that was actually thinking. "What's a minotaur?" Oh I really don't want to know that "You really should know this Harry. A minotaur is a hybrid of human and bull. Although, I don't want to know how exactly that came to pass." She glanced up through lashes, looking not annoyed as her familiar tone suggested but tired, lost and a little scared. Harry was taken aback, feeling awkward with those particular emotions reigning in eyes he had taken for granted as touchstones. "Is are can you are they going to let you in?" That came out completely wrong. Harry knew his ears would have been burning if it had not been his friend, someone who knew what he was saying even if no one else would. She nodded, looking back down into her hands. "Professor McGonagall has informed me that I am on a form of probation. I am not to be caught in any compromising situations during the course of a month or I'll be asked to attend another school." Her voice was quiet, soft, and withdrawn. She thought she was getting off easier than she was supposed to. Harry leapt out of the chair. There was no way Dumbledore would only give her one more chance! He'd let a former Death-Eater in Hogwarts for God's sakes, how could it be harder to accept a late honor student? "I don't believe it Hermione! Professor Dumbledore would have given you a lighter sentence than that" A sudden thought shot through his mind, rage flaring. "Did- did Snape say something that made them-" "No-no. It was it was quite the opposite. That new teacher, Professor Whitelighter I think it was, wanted to not allow me in school at all. She thought I might have been contaminated or turned or something of the sort. It was Professor Snape that said I should stay, that being in school would be more anguish than being allowed to romp freely at home. That in itself is peculiar, considering all teachers know that I don't mind school one bit." It was more than peculiar, it was more than strange; it just wasn't Snape. Deciding that his brain would most likely explode, Harry held out a hand to Hermione, smiling a bit. She'd come back. The Trio was once again complete and a wash of ebullience speared through him. "Come on Hermione, school starts early tomorrow." She nodded; accepting his hand and letting him lead her to the base of the girl's dorm staircase. They bid goodnights. Harry went to bed a bit happier than he had been coming out of his room. But the remembrance of the reason he had gotten out of bed at all rushed over him again. That infernal screaming Harry shut his eyes. Things couldn't be that bad now, Hermione was back and his two best friends were set again. That was, of course, before he had class with Professor Wumbrivil. Bryn didn't have a very nice meeting with Hermione. There was fire and rage sparking as Harry introduced the two. Ron was oblivious to anything as he joyously chatted with Hermione, albeit she was distant in her replies. That left Harry to deal with Bryn, a task he wasn't eager to perform. To make things worse, the unfavorable introduction became a prolonged wretchedness that floated betwixt the female portion of the Quartet. The blonde Norwegian couldn't seem to utter Hermione's name and had taken to calling her Granger'. That upset Hermione to no bounds. It had been a very grueling morning. Hermione and Bryn had been practically ripping each other's heads off. Although, Hermione was in a considerably better mood once McGonagall had her in class and fawned over her like she was the Transfiguration teacher's long lost daughter. Bryn was threatened with another detention from Professor McGonagall for inappropriate comments. The Trio, now accompanied by Bryn that seemed to be lagging on Harry's heels even more, headed towards O.W.L.s Prep. Hermione seemed thrilled that Dumbledore had decided to include the class. "I've already been to the library. The O.W.L.s have been known to be especially tricky with hexes, or so I've heard," she was saying as they entered the class. Professor Wumbrivil looked uncharacteristically calm and mellow, smiling politely at every student who entered. Neville was the last one in, dropping a book from his arms of cluttered things, including the quiescent turtle from Transfiguration that McGonagall had them turning into rabbits. Wumbrivil picked up a large textbook from under his desk and set it with a grunt on top, then he flipped to somewhere in the middle and opened his mouth to begin reading. Harry almost wished for the insane cheerful teacher back. Be careful what you wish for was so underrated. The professor broke out in a huge grin and stepped away from the desk. Then, much to Harry's shock as well as everyone else's from the looks on the collective faces, used his arms to flip himself forward onto the desk. "Ah! Much better! Now, if every one'd put their books away and climb up on your desk." Reluctantly, the class scrambled onto their desks. Hermione had that expression she'd had last year when she quit Divination and that was the last thing she needed, quitting a class. Harry mostly felt sorry for Neville, for heights didn't seem to agree with him. The red haired teacher, who had his wand whipped out in front of him, cleared his throat, reclaiming the lost attentions. "O.W.L.s stands for Ordinary Wizard Levels. These are very important tests! They determine not how smart you are, but how prepared you are for life after school!" The whole spiel was said in a voice loud enough to be announcer for a Qudditch game. Hermione looked sick at the mention that O.W.L.s didn't measure brain power. Moving his wand so that it forced the book to hover before him, Wumbrivil glanced back up into the faces of his students and brightened when he locked eyes with Harry. Oh no "Do ya think you can get air sick from standing on desks?" Ron whispered, his wand bobbing as he talked. "The most common problems on O.W.L.s," Wumbrivil shouted, cutting off any reply Harry had. "Are hexes! Today, the Pungopuniceus Hex is cured with Abiego! Repeat!" "Abiego!" Hermione seemed to be the only one who knew what the Pungopuniceus Hex was and said Abiego without any emphasis. The blonde Norwegian struggled with the word, stuttering over the letters and not paying attention to where her wand was pointing. A feeling crept up into Harry's stomach, one that didn't sit well with what was about to happen. "Abiungo!" Crash! Something had definitely gone wrong. Both Harry and Ron looked over the edge of their desks to see Hermione sprawled on the floor, eyes open wide in a stunned look. Wumbrivil jumped off his desk, muttering something and stood over Hermione. "Not good, this is not good. Conferoiterum!" The professor's robes moved at the right moment (or perhaps, the bad moment) and Harry caught glimpse of Hermione's torso and legs attaching themselves to each other with a loud slurp. Her face was still pale when Wumbrivil helped her up; her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. The bell rang as everyone carefully got off their desks, quieter than when they had entered. Bryn echoed the paleness of Hermione and stood directly behind Harry, her presence only being known by the fact that she had his robes clenched in her fist. Hermione walked wobbly, like her legs weren't responding to her brain that well. All that could be seen of Professor Wumbrivil was his legs, sticking out of the closet behind his desk. Hermione was feeling much better by the middle of dinner. She had been staring at her food, mindlessly pushing it around until she said something. Harry, who'd been talking to Ron about the Quidditch practice that night, turned towards her. "What?" His friend's eyes were gone, fixated on some point he didn't know and she moved to look at Harry, a determination settling into her features that Harry had only seen when she had planned out her study schedule for finals. "She did it on purpose! She knew that Abiungo would separate my body, everybody knows that (Harry didn't think it wise to mention that he didn't know that)!" Hermione stood up and Harry grabbed her robes, pushing her back down into her seat. "You said that she wouldn't leave you alone while I was gone she's jealous that I'm back!" Not like Hermione at all! Harry stuttered around his plate, picking up his pumpkin juice and taking a big gulp. "She wouldn't do something like that Hermione! Bryn just talks funny, she couldn't pronounce it right today." "Well," Hermione said in a huff, determined not to be proven wrong in the least. "Professor Wumbreval should make sure we can all pronounce the words before he has us practicing them with our wands." He didn't catch that she said the professor's name wrong, but if he had, he wouldn't have corrected her anyway. Angelina caught up with Harry when he was trudging up to the tower after dinner; Ron and Hermione discussing something that he couldn't quite focus on and Bryn still MIA. He felt a bit guilty that he'd barely noticed her missing, but she could probably handle herself at least, that was what Harry was telling himself. "We had our tryouts for new members on Saturday, since we need a Keeper now that Oliver isn't here and I really wanted some of the younger kids to get on the team. That way, we aren't completely helpless next year when the rest of us, sans you Harry, leave the team." Angelina tried to look happy but by the expression, Harry could tell that tryouts didn't go half as well as she wanted them too. "We'll break in the new Keeper tomorrow along with the other team." "Other team?" Angelina glanced back up at the disappearing Gryffindors into their Common Room. "Yeah. I think it'll be best if we have a full back up team so they can learn from us for next year. Most of our practices will be games against each other." "Oh. So, practice tomorrow?" She nodded and both went through the portrait of the Fat Lady. Quidditch was here at last! Things were usually a lot better when he was flying and Harry couldn't wait. When he got into his bed, Harry tried not to focus on the previous nights, where that screaming had kept him awake. Or about Potions class on Friday. He tried to remember Quidditch, everything about Quidditch that made it one of the best things that had happened to him. But all he could remember was Hermione's body slurping back together and her voice, saying, "She did it on purpose!" *** The rest of the day was a blur to Harry as he prepared for practice that evening. Both Hermione and Ron (and of course, Bryn by default) were going to go with him. Harry wasn't certain why they were going, but he couldn't say he wasn't happy. It hadn't been that great of a summer or school year so far, the previous year's events still haunting the recesses of his mind. Harry tried not to think about why Quidditch had been canceled last year as he strolled onto the field, Firebolt under one arm. Angelina was talking to a group of mainly third years, but a scattered few of fourth and second. The rest of his team, Chasers Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, Beaters Fred and George Weasley (briefly, Harry wondered if Ron would try out for the team when they were gone the next year) and what Harry assumed to be the new Keeper, were up in the air, waiting for him and Angelina. He moved to join them, but saw Hermione standing near the trunk that contained the four balls used in Quidditch, arms tightly crossed in front of her. "Hermione!" She glanced up and smiled, moving forward to meet him. Harry was only slightly disappointed that Ron wasn't behind her. Of course, that was second to the joy of not having Bryn behind her either. "Hi Harry! Ron and I just arrived; he's up in the stands with our things." Her smile faltered a little. "Bryn is with him." Harry nodded and tried not to let the strange note of disgust in Hermione's voice affect him. There were always certain people she didn't like very much, but, with the exception of Draco Malfoy, Hermione had never expressed something so close to hatred for another person. She even said that she was too intelligent to judge people by anything other than their deepest self. It was unlike the Muggle-born girl... so unlike her... "Hermione?" Angelina landed next to the girl and smiled once she confirmed
identity. "Hermione! I'm glad you're here! There's nothing that boosts
team morale like their own House coming out to watch them. Thanks for coming." "Now Harry, this is our QIT," she started, turning back with an arm extended. " Quit'? Someone's quitting? But Angelina I thought you said that-" "Not quit Harry. Q. I. T. It stands for Quidditch In Training'. Now they are mostly younger than fifth year, but Dean Thomas, Semperia Dimenticato, and Nunca Erinnert are exceptions." She pointed behind her to Dean and two other girls that Harry had seen, but never seemed to remember their names. Not bothering to wait for any reaction from Harry, Angelina continued. "I guess Wood was training a successor without the rest of us knowing. Ki Ash, a sixth year, showed up on Saturday and he's our new Keeper. Now Harry, I want you to talk to Ash after practice, maybe give him a somewhat newcomer's point of view." Finally, with a bright smile that showed the tension Angelina was already feeling, she finished with, "We'll win championship again this year Harry, I know it." Harry straddled his broom, the Firebolt he'd gotten two years ago, and felt more than a little uneasy. Maybe it was something he ate, but Harry's stomach started to reject the idea of flying. In fact, just thinking about getting off the ground made his head swim and suddenly, Harry wasn't too stable on his broom. The rest of the team was performing drills in the air above him. Harry glanced up and his stomach violently abandoned any attempt at subtly convincing its owner to get off the broom. And that didn't seem like such a bad idea. Hermione, who had been trudging up the stairs to the row where Bryn and Ron were seated, raced back down as she saw Harry stumble off the broom. Angelina noticed as well, landing down beside the Seeker, whose bum had decided it would never leave the ground. "Harry? Harry are you all right?" He wasn't sure who said it, but Harry nodded, finally convincing his mutinous body that he wouldn't make it get back on the broom. "Angelina I don't think I can fly." She didn't say anything and Harry wondered if maybe he hadn't said it allowed. He glanced at her to see wide eyes and face gone horribly, horribly pale. "Oh no. This—this isn't good." She wrung her hands together. "I suppose I could get one of the Chasers to be Seeker but they aren't trained for it, and that will mess up the roster you can't fly?" Harry got back onto the Firebolt and felt the same, upsetting churning in his stomach and throat. More than a little shaky, Harry tumbled off the broom. For some odd reason, his godfather popped up in his head, his fugitive godfather who had somehow managed to get him that extremely expensive broom so that he could just suddenly develop a fear of flying? Hermione had grabbed the broom and was examining it with her familiar scrutiny. "Do you think it's jinxed? Someone could have gotten a hold of it Harry and put a hex or something of the like that would make you sick. It's a very simple process" She held it out and gingerly straddled the broom. Harry hadn't seen Hermione on a broom since their first year, but the scene was normal, as if she was always on a broom. "Well, I don't feel sick, but" Harry watched Hermione rise slowly in the air, a smile spreading on her face and tried not to turn green. Just the thought of anyone going up into the air, especially Hermione She flew for a little while, growing more daring as she went higher. He wasn't sure what all she did before she landed, as Harry had turned away from the sight, but Harry knew that look on Angelina's face. It was the same one Snape would get when Neville blew something up in Potions class. "Hermione, have you ever thought about joining the Quidditch team?" *** The first game was against Hufflepuff in two weeks, one week before Halloween. Hermione practiced every night and still had time to do the homework that had seemed to dwindle a bit from the previous year. Harry went out every practice to watch Hermione, hating the look of her up so high in the air, but knowing somehow that he was supposed to watch her. Ron hadn't said much when Hermione told him. "So getting the best grades in the school wasn't enough for you?" The little squabble that caused only lasted a day, as Ron had the brains to apologize. He was still a little upset with Hermione for not telling anyone where she'd been all summer. Harry was sitting in Divination, listening to Professor Trelawney drone about the upcoming deaths, her favorites for the week being all of the members of the Quidditch team (Harry just thought her still a bit miffed about Hermione dropping from the class), when another flash came upon him. "We're laying the foundation soon, Kakon. The effects of magic on pregnancy aren't fully known yet and I don't want anything happening to that baby." The woman nodded, her white hair shifting in the wind. "You are dealing with powerful magic. Very powerful. You be careful blå." He watched the two women from behind a tent. He'd been weary of their conversations ever since she had convinced the others to allow the pregnant woman to stay. Something bad was going to happen; he could feel it in his bones. "You keep calling me that. Blah, what does that mean?" The other woman reached forward, catching a lock of hair between her fingers. "It is your blue. Blue hair, blue eyes you are very blue." The woman who possessed such blue characteristics laughed and continued writing down in her book. There was a fluttering of feathers and he hid behind the tent again, straining to hear as the woman dropped her book and most likely gave her new companion that familiar frown. "Hey, green! Yellow! Red! Someone come get this bird – ouch! Excuse me, phoenix before I pluck him clean!" She sighed and apparently speaking to the phoenix, said, "You know you're my favorite pet, but why must you always come around me when I'm busy Fawkes?" The world rushed back to Harry as Trelawney was finished her homework assignment. Him and Ron exchanged looks. They had to talk. To be continued Did you like it? Email me ( angelfire2996@yahoo.com ) and tell me or review! Chapter 4 coming up soon! |