Surprisingly, there was very little uproar at Hogwarts over the next few
days, and three more Death Eaters had been caught. The Slytherins were
quieter than ever, but that didn't deter Snape. He, of course, was shocked
to discover that Harry Potter was indeed good at potions. Everyone noticed
he spent more time studying for that than the other subjects, even the
Quidditch team.
Despite all the time spent studying, Gryffindor was undoubtedly the team to beat this year. With the team not so pushed to win by Wood, instead urged to have fun, they were each able to come up with amazing plays. Throughout practice on Wednesday, Harry would race around on his Firebolt, daring the twins to hit him with a Bludger. Every now and then, he'd practice the Wronski Feint, improving little by little.
Angelica, Colin, and Alicia would perform astounding plays, but they only managed to barely get the Quaffle past Ron once. By the end, Fred and George had managed to hit Harry twice, and he had practically perfected the Wronski Feint. They were unbeatable, especially since Slytherin was training a new seeker. Malfoy had been switched to beater by request of Snape. In actuality, it was Samantha who had asked her father, believing the change would allow him to get out a little aggression.
He wasn't at all bad at the position either. He could control the bludgers' direction quite well, and he seemed to perk up a bit as finding something else he was good at.
After a day or so, Dumbledore decided he couldn't play the charade any longer. He called McGonagall into his office, then sent for Harry. He entered muddy and soaked, though he wasn't soiling anything. Must be magic, he thought. He smiled apologetically and sat down at the wave of the Headmaster's hand.
"I'm sorry to pull you from your practice, but the time has come to tell you."
"It's alright Professor; practice was almost over anyway. Tell me what?"
"I've received a post from Remus Lupin. It concerns Snuffles." Harry's heart dropped, and he swallowed with difficulty. Professor McGonagall handed him the letter, which she had just finished reading, and squeezed his arm. He looked at her curiously, then began reading.
Neither could tell when he finished reading; he just sat there deadpanned. After what seemed like hours, McGonagall slid her arm around his shoulder, and he snapped out of his trance. Much to the surprise of the two professors, he didn't seem upset. He just stared at Dumbledore.
"How? When?" were all he could choke out.
Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "I received an owl from the Ministry today. It was delayed by a storm. It seems as if the Dementors joined Voldemort some time ago. They didn't hesitate to administer the kiss, knowing what he did about Wormtail."
"Some time ago? When did you get this message?" he held it up a little more accusingly than he should have, but the Headmaster sighed. McGonagall took a step back at his abruptness, but she held the look of concern.
"I received Remus' owl a week ago, but I was hesitant to tell you."
Something inside him snapped, "So you were going to wait until I got my letter back unopened? Until I came to you with the question?" Now McGonagall's look of concern was mixed with fear. This was not the Harry she knew. He stood and threw the letter back onto the Headmaster's desk and without another word, he was gone. He practically ran back to the Gryffindor tower, oblivious to the fact that he nearly plowed through Professor Snape on his way out.
Snape climbed the stairs asking the question with his expression.
"I see you ran into Mr. Potter on his way out," said Dumbledore gravely.
"Yes, almost literally. What on earth could have him so --?" But he already knew the answer, and the discarded letter on the desk confirmed it.
"Actually, he did take it quite well, as long as the alarm on the North Tower doesn't go off." He sounded as if he was joking, but all three of them knew he was very serious.
When Harry told Ron and Hermione, their reactions were somewhat similar to his own.
"I can't believe he didn't tell you!"
"Why didn't Professor Lupin write to you directly?"
"The chicken made Dumbledore do it."
"Ron!"
"Well he his one! Not telling Harry personally. Always knew he was a coward."
"Honestly," Hermione chose to ignore Ron's ranting after that, which continued on in much the same fashion. Instead, she turned her attention to Harry, who had seemingly zoned out after "chicken."
"Harry, are you alright?" She laid a hand on his arm.
"Uh, yeah," he shook his head to clear his mind, "I need to go study for Potions tomorrow." He walked upstairs and pulled the curtains around his bed. Only in this privacy did he allow himself to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tomorrow, we see exactly how this has affected Harry. Only a few more chaps left, I promise. LOL, anyway, I think I'm keeping it below 20 chaps if I can at all. Thanks to all my loyal readers, especially Princess Kattera! You are the coolest.
Despite all the time spent studying, Gryffindor was undoubtedly the team to beat this year. With the team not so pushed to win by Wood, instead urged to have fun, they were each able to come up with amazing plays. Throughout practice on Wednesday, Harry would race around on his Firebolt, daring the twins to hit him with a Bludger. Every now and then, he'd practice the Wronski Feint, improving little by little.
Angelica, Colin, and Alicia would perform astounding plays, but they only managed to barely get the Quaffle past Ron once. By the end, Fred and George had managed to hit Harry twice, and he had practically perfected the Wronski Feint. They were unbeatable, especially since Slytherin was training a new seeker. Malfoy had been switched to beater by request of Snape. In actuality, it was Samantha who had asked her father, believing the change would allow him to get out a little aggression.
He wasn't at all bad at the position either. He could control the bludgers' direction quite well, and he seemed to perk up a bit as finding something else he was good at.
After a day or so, Dumbledore decided he couldn't play the charade any longer. He called McGonagall into his office, then sent for Harry. He entered muddy and soaked, though he wasn't soiling anything. Must be magic, he thought. He smiled apologetically and sat down at the wave of the Headmaster's hand.
"I'm sorry to pull you from your practice, but the time has come to tell you."
"It's alright Professor; practice was almost over anyway. Tell me what?"
"I've received a post from Remus Lupin. It concerns Snuffles." Harry's heart dropped, and he swallowed with difficulty. Professor McGonagall handed him the letter, which she had just finished reading, and squeezed his arm. He looked at her curiously, then began reading.
Neither could tell when he finished reading; he just sat there deadpanned. After what seemed like hours, McGonagall slid her arm around his shoulder, and he snapped out of his trance. Much to the surprise of the two professors, he didn't seem upset. He just stared at Dumbledore.
"How? When?" were all he could choke out.
Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "I received an owl from the Ministry today. It was delayed by a storm. It seems as if the Dementors joined Voldemort some time ago. They didn't hesitate to administer the kiss, knowing what he did about Wormtail."
"Some time ago? When did you get this message?" he held it up a little more accusingly than he should have, but the Headmaster sighed. McGonagall took a step back at his abruptness, but she held the look of concern.
"I received Remus' owl a week ago, but I was hesitant to tell you."
Something inside him snapped, "So you were going to wait until I got my letter back unopened? Until I came to you with the question?" Now McGonagall's look of concern was mixed with fear. This was not the Harry she knew. He stood and threw the letter back onto the Headmaster's desk and without another word, he was gone. He practically ran back to the Gryffindor tower, oblivious to the fact that he nearly plowed through Professor Snape on his way out.
Snape climbed the stairs asking the question with his expression.
"I see you ran into Mr. Potter on his way out," said Dumbledore gravely.
"Yes, almost literally. What on earth could have him so --?" But he already knew the answer, and the discarded letter on the desk confirmed it.
"Actually, he did take it quite well, as long as the alarm on the North Tower doesn't go off." He sounded as if he was joking, but all three of them knew he was very serious.
When Harry told Ron and Hermione, their reactions were somewhat similar to his own.
"I can't believe he didn't tell you!"
"Why didn't Professor Lupin write to you directly?"
"The chicken made Dumbledore do it."
"Ron!"
"Well he his one! Not telling Harry personally. Always knew he was a coward."
"Honestly," Hermione chose to ignore Ron's ranting after that, which continued on in much the same fashion. Instead, she turned her attention to Harry, who had seemingly zoned out after "chicken."
"Harry, are you alright?" She laid a hand on his arm.
"Uh, yeah," he shook his head to clear his mind, "I need to go study for Potions tomorrow." He walked upstairs and pulled the curtains around his bed. Only in this privacy did he allow himself to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tomorrow, we see exactly how this has affected Harry. Only a few more chaps left, I promise. LOL, anyway, I think I'm keeping it below 20 chaps if I can at all. Thanks to all my loyal readers, especially Princess Kattera! You are the coolest.