Chapter 18
The end of term had come and gone and it was nearing the end of the holidays. Harry had nearly successfully caught up with his two months of missing work, thanks to extra tutoring by both his Professors and Hermione.
His visits to Madam Pomfrey had diminished to once a week, but his visits to Snape had become almost daily.
He would walk into Snape's office and simply ignore him for an hour before getting up and walking out without saying goodbye.
He was still cutting, but no where near as often and he was cutting his upper leg, where it was less dangerous, but more importantly (in Harry's view anyway) no one could find it.
His friends still knew that he was cutting himself and they made their reports to Dumbledore and Snape but if anyone ever mentioned it, the shutters would come down and he would close up.
He had rejoined the Quidditch team and although he hadn't been allowed to play for the first match of the season, he hadn't missed the Snitch yet. As long as the Gryffindor team had no major set backs, they were nearly sure of winning the Quidditch Cup for a second year running.
Harry's scar was hurting so frequently that it had become a regular part of him and he began to forget what it had felt like without a headache. As much as this worried him, the fact that there had been absolutely no movement from Voldemort terrified him. As long as Voldemort didn't do anything, the ministry still refused to acknowledge that he had returned and because of the pain in his scar Harry was positive that he was planning something big.
The second last day of the holidays, when Harry, Ron and Draco were trying to teach Hermione how to fly, Hedwig swooped down, landing on Harry's Firebolt with a letter.
The only problem with this was that Hermione was also sitting on the broom with Harry and the flutter of white startled her and she jumped, sending the two of them crashing into a tree before slipping and sliding down the branches to land with a thump at the bottom.
After dusting themselves off and Hermione magically healing their scratches, Harry turned to the letter. It was from Dumbledore.
Dear Mr Potter, Firstly congratulations on your fine efforts in catching up your missed work. All your teachers are extremely pleased with your progress, including your Potions Master (which is a pleasant if unexpected surprise) Please convey my sincere thanks to Miss Granger who has been helping, as well.
Well Harry, now I come to the point of this little note. Would you, Messers Weasley and Malfoy as well as the aforesaid Miss Granger do me the courtesy of attending a private supper with me in my office at eight o'clock tonight? Please do not be alarmed; you are not in any trouble.
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.
'Supper with Dumbledore?' screeched Hermione.
The boys put their hands over their ears blocking out her continued screaming.
'Calm down Mione,' said Ron. 'He said that we aren't in trouble.'
'Were you even listening to me? I don't know what to wear.'
She stormed back up to the castle, leaving three boys staring open mouthed at one another.
Harry finally found his voice. 'Was that Hermione worrying about what to wear?'
Ron and Draco just stared.
The end of term had come and gone and it was nearing the end of the holidays. Harry had nearly successfully caught up with his two months of missing work, thanks to extra tutoring by both his Professors and Hermione.
His visits to Madam Pomfrey had diminished to once a week, but his visits to Snape had become almost daily.
He would walk into Snape's office and simply ignore him for an hour before getting up and walking out without saying goodbye.
He was still cutting, but no where near as often and he was cutting his upper leg, where it was less dangerous, but more importantly (in Harry's view anyway) no one could find it.
His friends still knew that he was cutting himself and they made their reports to Dumbledore and Snape but if anyone ever mentioned it, the shutters would come down and he would close up.
He had rejoined the Quidditch team and although he hadn't been allowed to play for the first match of the season, he hadn't missed the Snitch yet. As long as the Gryffindor team had no major set backs, they were nearly sure of winning the Quidditch Cup for a second year running.
Harry's scar was hurting so frequently that it had become a regular part of him and he began to forget what it had felt like without a headache. As much as this worried him, the fact that there had been absolutely no movement from Voldemort terrified him. As long as Voldemort didn't do anything, the ministry still refused to acknowledge that he had returned and because of the pain in his scar Harry was positive that he was planning something big.
The second last day of the holidays, when Harry, Ron and Draco were trying to teach Hermione how to fly, Hedwig swooped down, landing on Harry's Firebolt with a letter.
The only problem with this was that Hermione was also sitting on the broom with Harry and the flutter of white startled her and she jumped, sending the two of them crashing into a tree before slipping and sliding down the branches to land with a thump at the bottom.
After dusting themselves off and Hermione magically healing their scratches, Harry turned to the letter. It was from Dumbledore.
Dear Mr Potter, Firstly congratulations on your fine efforts in catching up your missed work. All your teachers are extremely pleased with your progress, including your Potions Master (which is a pleasant if unexpected surprise) Please convey my sincere thanks to Miss Granger who has been helping, as well.
Well Harry, now I come to the point of this little note. Would you, Messers Weasley and Malfoy as well as the aforesaid Miss Granger do me the courtesy of attending a private supper with me in my office at eight o'clock tonight? Please do not be alarmed; you are not in any trouble.
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.
'Supper with Dumbledore?' screeched Hermione.
The boys put their hands over their ears blocking out her continued screaming.
'Calm down Mione,' said Ron. 'He said that we aren't in trouble.'
'Were you even listening to me? I don't know what to wear.'
She stormed back up to the castle, leaving three boys staring open mouthed at one another.
Harry finally found his voice. 'Was that Hermione worrying about what to wear?'
Ron and Draco just stared.