(**A/N: I forgot to do a disclaimer in the first eight chapters, so I'm doing one now... Better late than never...**)
All of the characters I'm using are owned by J. K. Rowling except for Erif/Arle and Summer Bailey.
Now onto the story:
CHAPTER 9: AWAKE FROM THE DREAM
Harry stretched and watched the sun come up from his lonely perch in the Owlry on an equally lonely Saturday. The birds were asleep, the bright sunrise shining through this window for him and him alone. He imagined for a brief moment that it was Arlé smiling at him, and caught himself as his dream turned into words. He always reverted to this daydream, three simple words forming on her lips, her emerald eyes bright as she looked deep into his own...
A soft hooting noise came from beside him, and he looked around. Hedwig was watching him from her perch, her large eyes staring unblinkingly.
"Yes, I'm going to write something," he sighed. He had come up here to write to Sirius, and had instead gotten caught up in his lonely sunrise. She was not up when he had come up here, although Hermione and Ron were. Hermione had said something about her coming in late last night, and while he was dying to recline in her presence, he would not have Hermione wake her for his own personal gain. She seemed to be feeling better from these evening sessions, and while she was having a hard time keeping up with the work the teachers were throwing at her, her first two weeks here had been very good.
He pulled the pen from his bag and dipped it into his inkwell, placed it on the paper-- where it paused, creating a little pool of ink. He shook himself as he realized that he was supposed to be writing.
Dear Snuffles,
I heard from Dumbledore that you were attacked by Death Eaters... I wish it hadn't happened to you, but it did, and I can't fight that now. I miss you terribly, and I really want to see you, to be sure you're okay. I haven't even gotten a letter...
Things are fine over here...if anything, the teachers are piling on more homework than ever, probably in preparation for the O.W.L.'s. Ron and Hermione are really worried about them, but I'm not. I think it hasn't kicked in yet that I'm taking them this year.
I miss you a lot, and I hope to see you soon. Write back if you can! Say hi to Lupin for me!
~Harry
He looked it over once or twice, and wondered why he hadn't mentioned Arlé at all. Perhaps he didn't want Sirius to worry about that... Or perhaps he didn't want anyone to know that he liked her.
He sighed and folded the letter, then tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Take it to Sirius, and it's okay if Lupin takes it." He watched as she flew out the window, feeling the wind from her wings brush at his hair and clothes.
He went down for breakfast, for once not wondering about Arlé's mysterious past and her secrets.
In the Great Hall, he walked past Snape and Bailey, sitting close together as seemed their custom at meals. Bailey's lessons were practical and very informative; he had learned a great deal about the methods that the Dark Forces were capable of using. She had shown them Dark Magic with or without a wand, and Harry's least favorite set of lessons; a reteaching of the Imperious Curse. He had not wanted to go through with it again, but with Arlé watching, he would not back down.
Arlé wasn't taking the Curse any easier than he was. Her legs were very shaky after the first class when they had demonstrated it, and she had gone down to Madame Pomphrey's during Charms immediately following.
Harry had not taken out the Invisibility Cloak since he had arrived. It was tucked away, and he was rather glad he didn't need to use it. When he used it, most of the time he was either investigating trouble or getting into it hip-deep.
He sat at the table and had hardly even taken a bite when Hermione and Arlé came into the Hall, Hermione waving her hands angrily.
"He's such an idiot!" She was exclaiming as they walked closer, Arlé still blinking sleep out of her eyes.
"Hermione, I know he's an idiot, I've heard it all the way down here," Arlé said, rubbing her arm impatiently.
"I can't believe the-- the nerve!" Hermione snarled, throwing herself down opposite Harry.
"I don't want to know, do I?" Harry asked as Hermione spread butter onto her toast savagely. Arlé sank tiredly into the seat next to Harry, across from Hermione, and reached with her fork for the eggs.
"Well, I'm going to tell you!" Hermione said, cutting off whatever Arlé was about to say. "He asked me if I was taking Krum to the ball! And he said that he was taking Parvati to the ball, and then he asked her! Right in front of me!"
"Who?"
"Ron!" She hissed, her eyes filling with tears.
Harry looked down at his plate as it dawned on him... "What ball?"
Hermione made a noise of disgust in her throat. "Men!" She snapped as Arlé rose, her voice rising with Hermione's, "He didn't know, give him a chance!"
They both looked at Arlé, and she glared down at them, the strange red glowing in her eyes. If Harry could see it clearly, then so could Hermione... She sat down and looked away, as if embarrassed.
"Can we go talk in privacy, just the three of us?" Harry asked softly, glancing out of the corner of his eyes toward the pair of teachers. He could just see them, and they were watching very peculiarly...
"As long as Ron isn't coming, I don't see why not," Hermione said, but some of her snap was gone.
Harry grabbed one last piece of toast and they left the Hall.
"Look," Arlé began, eating her toast with peanut butter, "I really want to know who this Krum is, if you get a chance..."
"It's a long story, but he came to our school last year and he and Hermione went to the ball together."
"And Ron got jealous," Hermione added.
Arlé nodded, looking at them intently. Harry looked at her deep green eyes, and at the sadness within them...
"He's still jealous," Hermione continued, kicking a stone around between her feet. "I just wish he'd forget about Krum and start thinking about us."
"You really like him that way?" Arlé asked, glancing up their winding path towards the lake.
"Yes," Hermione said, "You'd think I'd choose someone more like me, but... After all we've been through, we've developed some intimacy. Especially with you, Harry, after the Tri-Wizard Tournament..." She trailed off, looking down at her feet. They walked along for a time in silence towards the lake. Harry rubbed his scar absently, wondering why it was itching so much...
"So this 'ball'," Arlé began to precede a heavy and uncomfortable pause, "Is it the Halloween Ball?"
"No, it's a back-to-school dance," Hermione answered, bending down and picking a stone up.
Harry glanced at Arlé, a sudden, frightening thought springing unbidden into his mind... What if he were to take Arlé to the ball?
Would she go with him if he asked?
Would she want to go with him?
"Do you want me to go talk to him?" Harry asked carefully.
"No--Yes, I don't know!" Hermione threw the rock across the lake, where it skimmed off the surface several times. "I don't want it to look like I'm begging."
"Yeah, I understand," Arlé said, making Harry glance at her. Did she have a boyfriend already? His heart sank to the floor at that prospect, but he merely sighed and let them speak.
"He's just so-- impossible!" Hermione said, shaking her head in frustration.
"My mum--" Arlé swallowed, and the hesitant words sprawled out of her mouth. "She used to say that men often like to see that a girl takes interest in them, which may or may not include 'begging.' They feel as insecure about girls as we do about them."
Harry had to admit, she had him down to the letter.
"You hardly ever talk about your parents," Hermione commented.
Arlé blushed and looked at the lake before replying. "I don't know how much to tell you..."
Hermione glanced over at her, her tender brown eyes watching her friend closely. "Why?"
Harry could tell that a great many things were going through Arlé's mind as her green eyes locked with his for a moment. None of which she appeared ready to tell them... His scar's itching grew into a slight ache.
She shook her head, breaking the contact, and Harry felt his chest tighten with emotions. If only she would break down her walls and talk to him...
"Not now. I don't want to talk about it now..." She sank down onto the grass and stared out toward the distant shore, as if watching for something.
Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes dark and suspicious as they sat down beside Arlé. Hermione would have more to search for in the library this evening than merely homework...
Harry stood suddenly, realizing what this pain-- yes, it was actual pain-- in his forehead meant... "Something's wrong," he mused, and continued, "My scar's hurting..."
They both looked up at him in shock, and together they dashed up toward the school.
As they entered the castle, a frightened-looking McGonagall speeding past turned to them.
"There you are!" She cried, adjusting her spectacles and herding them inside the castle, and then shutting the front door firmly behind them. "We thought you were... Never mind, I'll explain later. Hurry to your Common Room and stay there, I'll be up there shortly."
Arlé glanced at Harry and Hermione with confusion in her emerald eyes. "What--?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but we need to get to the Common Room." He led the way through the deserted halls, which suddenly seemed more brooding and dark than they normally should have been, given the wonderful day outside.
When they walked into the Common Room, Ron raced up to them. "You're alive!" He cried, drawing them into the midst of the group.
George and Fred jumped up as the quartet approached, all jokes and pranks forgotten in the shadow of the moment. "Are you okay?" Fred demanded, glancing at his twin before venturing, "Do you know what's going on?"
"We don't have any clue. You probably know more than we do," Harry replied, looking around for all of his classmates. "Where's Neville?"
"Up in our dormitory, hiding," Ron supplied.
Harry glanced around, looking for someone that might have information to tell, but couldn't see through the thick crowds or hear over the din of almost seventy people talking at once.
After a few tense minutes, he was aware of someone's closeness. Due to the amount of people in the room, Arlé's shoulder had been pushed into his chest, positioned so that her head was almost beside his own. Despite his scar and the air of danger, he couldn't help but warm to this interesting turn of events... Glancing down at her face, however, he was surprised to see what looked like abject terror in her green eyes. He leaned down a little and murmured in her ear, "Are you okay?"
She jumped, startled, and he clicked his teeth on her shoulder as it came up. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she said, and as she pushed her hair back with her left hand, her ring glinted. He took comfort in the fact that she did not pull away from him, but he could tell that something about the situation frightened her by the way her back arced backwards with tightness.
"Are you okay?" He repeated, and she looked up at him out of the corner of her eye before responding.
"No... I've been in this sort of situation too often to be okay with it..." Harry wondered if she realized that she had pushed closer to him. She was shivering slightly, and he instinctively put his arm around her waist.
"I know what you mean, Arlé," he said, and continued, "I hate the waiting the worst, because you never know what's going to happen."
"Yes... I'd rather be out there fighting rather than in here, waiting for the darkness to come find us..." She shuddered.
Harry nodded, and they both glanced up as the door to the Common Room slid open. A deathly hush fell over the Gryffindors, and into this sudden silence, Professor McGonagall spoke.
"Come with me, please. Professor Dumbledore will explain when we get into the Great Hall."
Harry let go just as she realized that he had put his arm around her, but instead of moving away from him in disgust, she blushed and murmured, "Thank you."
They pressed forward, soon losing sight of Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George as they were pushed along by the crowd. The Slytherins were the loudest of the four Houses as they walked into the Hall. They alone seemed to know what was going on, and discussing it in their usual brash way.
"Where's Draco?" Arlé hissed as they walked by the Slytherin table. Harry glanced around sharply gasping slightly with the pain that that movement had done, and noticed that indeed, Malfoy was not sitting with the Slytherins. "Are you okay?"
"My scar..." He shrugged it off, and answered her first question, "He's probably up to no good." As they were waiting to reach their table, Professor Bailey strode by, her limp ever so slightly evident in her gait. She smiled grimly at them and squeezed Arlé's arm before pressing onward to Snape's side. Snape was standing beside his seat at the Grand Table, but he, Bailey, and Dumbledore were the only Professors around it.
Hermione and Ron had apparently made up; or had put their differences aside in the shadow of the "problem", for when they sat down across from Arlé and Harry, they were talking.
Dumbledore held up his hands, and the low hum of whispers that had sprouted stopped.
"I will not lie to you," he began, looking around and making eye contact with his audience. "I will not tell you that everything is fine; that nothing has happened that is worth your attention. The Minister of Magic would want to cover this up. But I will not let it happen that way.
"A student was taken from our midst; another murdered in cold blood." He paused as a general gasp was heard around the hall, and then continued, "We are investigating who and why, but right now, I can only give you the names of the students...
"Padma Patil was murdered, and Draco Malfoy was taken."
All of the characters I'm using are owned by J. K. Rowling except for Erif/Arle and Summer Bailey.
Now onto the story:
CHAPTER 9: AWAKE FROM THE DREAM
Harry stretched and watched the sun come up from his lonely perch in the Owlry on an equally lonely Saturday. The birds were asleep, the bright sunrise shining through this window for him and him alone. He imagined for a brief moment that it was Arlé smiling at him, and caught himself as his dream turned into words. He always reverted to this daydream, three simple words forming on her lips, her emerald eyes bright as she looked deep into his own...
A soft hooting noise came from beside him, and he looked around. Hedwig was watching him from her perch, her large eyes staring unblinkingly.
"Yes, I'm going to write something," he sighed. He had come up here to write to Sirius, and had instead gotten caught up in his lonely sunrise. She was not up when he had come up here, although Hermione and Ron were. Hermione had said something about her coming in late last night, and while he was dying to recline in her presence, he would not have Hermione wake her for his own personal gain. She seemed to be feeling better from these evening sessions, and while she was having a hard time keeping up with the work the teachers were throwing at her, her first two weeks here had been very good.
He pulled the pen from his bag and dipped it into his inkwell, placed it on the paper-- where it paused, creating a little pool of ink. He shook himself as he realized that he was supposed to be writing.
Dear Snuffles,
I heard from Dumbledore that you were attacked by Death Eaters... I wish it hadn't happened to you, but it did, and I can't fight that now. I miss you terribly, and I really want to see you, to be sure you're okay. I haven't even gotten a letter...
Things are fine over here...if anything, the teachers are piling on more homework than ever, probably in preparation for the O.W.L.'s. Ron and Hermione are really worried about them, but I'm not. I think it hasn't kicked in yet that I'm taking them this year.
I miss you a lot, and I hope to see you soon. Write back if you can! Say hi to Lupin for me!
~Harry
He looked it over once or twice, and wondered why he hadn't mentioned Arlé at all. Perhaps he didn't want Sirius to worry about that... Or perhaps he didn't want anyone to know that he liked her.
He sighed and folded the letter, then tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Take it to Sirius, and it's okay if Lupin takes it." He watched as she flew out the window, feeling the wind from her wings brush at his hair and clothes.
He went down for breakfast, for once not wondering about Arlé's mysterious past and her secrets.
In the Great Hall, he walked past Snape and Bailey, sitting close together as seemed their custom at meals. Bailey's lessons were practical and very informative; he had learned a great deal about the methods that the Dark Forces were capable of using. She had shown them Dark Magic with or without a wand, and Harry's least favorite set of lessons; a reteaching of the Imperious Curse. He had not wanted to go through with it again, but with Arlé watching, he would not back down.
Arlé wasn't taking the Curse any easier than he was. Her legs were very shaky after the first class when they had demonstrated it, and she had gone down to Madame Pomphrey's during Charms immediately following.
Harry had not taken out the Invisibility Cloak since he had arrived. It was tucked away, and he was rather glad he didn't need to use it. When he used it, most of the time he was either investigating trouble or getting into it hip-deep.
He sat at the table and had hardly even taken a bite when Hermione and Arlé came into the Hall, Hermione waving her hands angrily.
"He's such an idiot!" She was exclaiming as they walked closer, Arlé still blinking sleep out of her eyes.
"Hermione, I know he's an idiot, I've heard it all the way down here," Arlé said, rubbing her arm impatiently.
"I can't believe the-- the nerve!" Hermione snarled, throwing herself down opposite Harry.
"I don't want to know, do I?" Harry asked as Hermione spread butter onto her toast savagely. Arlé sank tiredly into the seat next to Harry, across from Hermione, and reached with her fork for the eggs.
"Well, I'm going to tell you!" Hermione said, cutting off whatever Arlé was about to say. "He asked me if I was taking Krum to the ball! And he said that he was taking Parvati to the ball, and then he asked her! Right in front of me!"
"Who?"
"Ron!" She hissed, her eyes filling with tears.
Harry looked down at his plate as it dawned on him... "What ball?"
Hermione made a noise of disgust in her throat. "Men!" She snapped as Arlé rose, her voice rising with Hermione's, "He didn't know, give him a chance!"
They both looked at Arlé, and she glared down at them, the strange red glowing in her eyes. If Harry could see it clearly, then so could Hermione... She sat down and looked away, as if embarrassed.
"Can we go talk in privacy, just the three of us?" Harry asked softly, glancing out of the corner of his eyes toward the pair of teachers. He could just see them, and they were watching very peculiarly...
"As long as Ron isn't coming, I don't see why not," Hermione said, but some of her snap was gone.
Harry grabbed one last piece of toast and they left the Hall.
"Look," Arlé began, eating her toast with peanut butter, "I really want to know who this Krum is, if you get a chance..."
"It's a long story, but he came to our school last year and he and Hermione went to the ball together."
"And Ron got jealous," Hermione added.
Arlé nodded, looking at them intently. Harry looked at her deep green eyes, and at the sadness within them...
"He's still jealous," Hermione continued, kicking a stone around between her feet. "I just wish he'd forget about Krum and start thinking about us."
"You really like him that way?" Arlé asked, glancing up their winding path towards the lake.
"Yes," Hermione said, "You'd think I'd choose someone more like me, but... After all we've been through, we've developed some intimacy. Especially with you, Harry, after the Tri-Wizard Tournament..." She trailed off, looking down at her feet. They walked along for a time in silence towards the lake. Harry rubbed his scar absently, wondering why it was itching so much...
"So this 'ball'," Arlé began to precede a heavy and uncomfortable pause, "Is it the Halloween Ball?"
"No, it's a back-to-school dance," Hermione answered, bending down and picking a stone up.
Harry glanced at Arlé, a sudden, frightening thought springing unbidden into his mind... What if he were to take Arlé to the ball?
Would she go with him if he asked?
Would she want to go with him?
"Do you want me to go talk to him?" Harry asked carefully.
"No--Yes, I don't know!" Hermione threw the rock across the lake, where it skimmed off the surface several times. "I don't want it to look like I'm begging."
"Yeah, I understand," Arlé said, making Harry glance at her. Did she have a boyfriend already? His heart sank to the floor at that prospect, but he merely sighed and let them speak.
"He's just so-- impossible!" Hermione said, shaking her head in frustration.
"My mum--" Arlé swallowed, and the hesitant words sprawled out of her mouth. "She used to say that men often like to see that a girl takes interest in them, which may or may not include 'begging.' They feel as insecure about girls as we do about them."
Harry had to admit, she had him down to the letter.
"You hardly ever talk about your parents," Hermione commented.
Arlé blushed and looked at the lake before replying. "I don't know how much to tell you..."
Hermione glanced over at her, her tender brown eyes watching her friend closely. "Why?"
Harry could tell that a great many things were going through Arlé's mind as her green eyes locked with his for a moment. None of which she appeared ready to tell them... His scar's itching grew into a slight ache.
She shook her head, breaking the contact, and Harry felt his chest tighten with emotions. If only she would break down her walls and talk to him...
"Not now. I don't want to talk about it now..." She sank down onto the grass and stared out toward the distant shore, as if watching for something.
Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes dark and suspicious as they sat down beside Arlé. Hermione would have more to search for in the library this evening than merely homework...
Harry stood suddenly, realizing what this pain-- yes, it was actual pain-- in his forehead meant... "Something's wrong," he mused, and continued, "My scar's hurting..."
They both looked up at him in shock, and together they dashed up toward the school.
As they entered the castle, a frightened-looking McGonagall speeding past turned to them.
"There you are!" She cried, adjusting her spectacles and herding them inside the castle, and then shutting the front door firmly behind them. "We thought you were... Never mind, I'll explain later. Hurry to your Common Room and stay there, I'll be up there shortly."
Arlé glanced at Harry and Hermione with confusion in her emerald eyes. "What--?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but we need to get to the Common Room." He led the way through the deserted halls, which suddenly seemed more brooding and dark than they normally should have been, given the wonderful day outside.
When they walked into the Common Room, Ron raced up to them. "You're alive!" He cried, drawing them into the midst of the group.
George and Fred jumped up as the quartet approached, all jokes and pranks forgotten in the shadow of the moment. "Are you okay?" Fred demanded, glancing at his twin before venturing, "Do you know what's going on?"
"We don't have any clue. You probably know more than we do," Harry replied, looking around for all of his classmates. "Where's Neville?"
"Up in our dormitory, hiding," Ron supplied.
Harry glanced around, looking for someone that might have information to tell, but couldn't see through the thick crowds or hear over the din of almost seventy people talking at once.
After a few tense minutes, he was aware of someone's closeness. Due to the amount of people in the room, Arlé's shoulder had been pushed into his chest, positioned so that her head was almost beside his own. Despite his scar and the air of danger, he couldn't help but warm to this interesting turn of events... Glancing down at her face, however, he was surprised to see what looked like abject terror in her green eyes. He leaned down a little and murmured in her ear, "Are you okay?"
She jumped, startled, and he clicked his teeth on her shoulder as it came up. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she said, and as she pushed her hair back with her left hand, her ring glinted. He took comfort in the fact that she did not pull away from him, but he could tell that something about the situation frightened her by the way her back arced backwards with tightness.
"Are you okay?" He repeated, and she looked up at him out of the corner of her eye before responding.
"No... I've been in this sort of situation too often to be okay with it..." Harry wondered if she realized that she had pushed closer to him. She was shivering slightly, and he instinctively put his arm around her waist.
"I know what you mean, Arlé," he said, and continued, "I hate the waiting the worst, because you never know what's going to happen."
"Yes... I'd rather be out there fighting rather than in here, waiting for the darkness to come find us..." She shuddered.
Harry nodded, and they both glanced up as the door to the Common Room slid open. A deathly hush fell over the Gryffindors, and into this sudden silence, Professor McGonagall spoke.
"Come with me, please. Professor Dumbledore will explain when we get into the Great Hall."
Harry let go just as she realized that he had put his arm around her, but instead of moving away from him in disgust, she blushed and murmured, "Thank you."
They pressed forward, soon losing sight of Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George as they were pushed along by the crowd. The Slytherins were the loudest of the four Houses as they walked into the Hall. They alone seemed to know what was going on, and discussing it in their usual brash way.
"Where's Draco?" Arlé hissed as they walked by the Slytherin table. Harry glanced around sharply gasping slightly with the pain that that movement had done, and noticed that indeed, Malfoy was not sitting with the Slytherins. "Are you okay?"
"My scar..." He shrugged it off, and answered her first question, "He's probably up to no good." As they were waiting to reach their table, Professor Bailey strode by, her limp ever so slightly evident in her gait. She smiled grimly at them and squeezed Arlé's arm before pressing onward to Snape's side. Snape was standing beside his seat at the Grand Table, but he, Bailey, and Dumbledore were the only Professors around it.
Hermione and Ron had apparently made up; or had put their differences aside in the shadow of the "problem", for when they sat down across from Arlé and Harry, they were talking.
Dumbledore held up his hands, and the low hum of whispers that had sprouted stopped.
"I will not lie to you," he began, looking around and making eye contact with his audience. "I will not tell you that everything is fine; that nothing has happened that is worth your attention. The Minister of Magic would want to cover this up. But I will not let it happen that way.
"A student was taken from our midst; another murdered in cold blood." He paused as a general gasp was heard around the hall, and then continued, "We are investigating who and why, but right now, I can only give you the names of the students...
"Padma Patil was murdered, and Draco Malfoy was taken."