A/N: What can I say? I'm just tired @ the moment. You would not believe the sheer MOUNTAIN of work I had to do earlier on, but at least I'm here now. Uh, yeah. So read on please.
Disclaimer:All hail the Almighty J.K. Rowling! All hail the Almighty Chimpy! (Silvermoon will get that joke.) All hail the Almighty Shadowz! (What? I own something, thanx very much!) All hail the Almighty Bowl of Sugar! (too true, too true.)
Dedication: Emily, who reviewed this about 4 times. ;-D Oh, and Emily? If you check, Harry lives in Diagon Alley for a week in 3 rd year, but doesn't go there in the fourth. HE GOES TO THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP! Ahem. Anyways, I counted that as two years.
Harry Potter and the Crystal of Dreams.
"MISS PARKS! PAY ATTENTION!" McGonagall hollered from the front of the classroom.
It was the end of another Transfiguration lesson, five minutes before the bell signalled the end of another day's long slog at the studies. The hairbrush-cum-Pelicans that they had been using sat sqwaking in the cage on the teacher's desk (Neville's had an interesting pattern of bristles over its back and wings). Shannon had been firing random coloured sparks into the air, a pointless task for a bored five minutes, and definitely not listening to the teacher.
Shannon looked up, eyes wide with guilt. "Oh. Sorry professor." She glanced briefly at the willow stick in her hand. "I'll just put this down." She slowly lowered her wand to the desk, where it promptly started and shot out a jet of green light. The light bounded off of one wall, and hit the bookshelf bracket opposite, causing it to drop with a clang to the stone floor, and the heavy volumes of Transfiguration texts to slide off it as unfortunate Ravenclaws ran for cover.
Shannon bit her lip as some laughed and some glared. Professor McGonagall was applying the latter. She was silent for a second then raised her eyebrows sheepishly. "Oops?"
With an irritable sigh and a wave of her wand, McGonagall cleared up the mess and ordered apprehensive students back to their seats."Just leave that wand where it is, Miss Parks, and for once just LISTEN!." She calmed and looked over the class as a whole. The last few gigglers quietened instantly and listened intently. Silence fell for a moment before she continued.
"Now, those of you who were here last year will remember the Yule Ball as part of our Triwizard Tournament. This year, a similar function will be held, called the Winter Dance. As before, all above the third year can attend, but younger students can be invited. It will take place in the Great Hall on the last evening of term, the seventeenth." The bell rang. "You are dismissed."
The pupils began to chatter excitedly at the prospect of another dance. Harry didn't feel so optimistic, remembering how last year's one had turned out. As if he needed a replay of that. He shoved his books into his bag and joined his friends in the rush for the door. Shannon and Hermione were discussing something in low voices. Just before he could leave, however, McGonagall's voice rang out.
"Mr. Potter, could I have a word please?" An order, not a request.
"I'll catch you up later." He muttered to the others, and went back, wondering what he could have done wrong. The deputy headmistress stood by her desk, peering sternly over her glasses at him. For a brief moment, he thought he saw something like pity there, but then it was gone.
"Potter, please follow me. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you." She walked out of the room, a sign that he should do as she said. He trapsed behind her through corridors of milling students heading for their common rooms.
He recognised the way, and when they eventually left behind the crowds, he asked, "Why does he want to see me?"
"There is someone you must meet." She replied simply. They had reached the stone gargoyle by now. "Sugar quill!"
The gargoyle became alive at once, wriggled, and sprung out of their way. The teacher turned to Harry.
"I believe you already know the way to the headmaster's office." she said. He stared at her, and after a second she pursed her lips. "Well, go ahead then!"
Harry stepped through the gap and onto the bottom of the moving staircase. By the time it had carried him halfway up to his destination, he heard the gargoyle hop back into its original position. A minute later, and he was standing outside the door to Dumbledore's office. From within, he could hear two voices conversing, Dumbledore's and the voice of a woman who sounded quite worried. He hesitated momentarily before raising his fist to knock on it.
"Come in," Dumbledore called, and Harry obeyed, wondering what was going on.
The office of the Hogwart's headmaster was identical to the last time he had seen it. Fawkes snoozed on his perch as peacefully as the portraits of old headteachers in their frames. The ruby-studded sword that he had pulled from the Sorting Hat in his second year glittered in its glass case, whilst the ancient hat sat on one of the tables full of whirring silver contraptions.
Harry approached the desk, which Dumbledore sat behind, smiling at him kindly. The woman that he had heard speaking leapt up from one of the two seats opposite Dumbledore. He watched her as he came closer, intrigued somewhat by the unknown reason why she looked so pale and why she was shaking.
She was a very pretty woman, almost as beautiful as his mother, and probably about the age she would be now- in her mid-thirties. Something, however, made her look a bit younger, but her slanted ice-blue eyes looked as though they had experienced pain and suffering in their time. She was dressed in muggle clothes, and her toffee coloured hair was taken back into a high ponytail.
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'd like you to meet a friend of your parents', Chloe Taylor. Chloe, I think you already know Harry."
She nodded, then added in a very faint voice, "I'm glad to see you again Harry."
"Hi." Harry nodded at her, and she managed a very weak smile, still looking very shaken and slightly ill.
"Harry, Chloe, please sit down." Dumbledore gestured to the two chairs, and they took them. "Good. I'll give you two a moment to catch up, then return to discuss the issues at hand with you."
He left them, robes sweeping behind him as he went. After the click of the door, there was an awkward silence that neither quite knew who to break. Eventually, Chloe gave a small laugh.
"Gave me a bit of a fright, I'm sorry. I'd swear you were James back in the fifth year. I bet lots of people have said how much you look like him, but with Lily's eyes." she told him.
"Yeah, they did." There was a pause, then he added, "You knew my parents?"
"I was...am your mother's best friend. I sent some of the pictures for your photo album about four years ago, think I'm in a couple. The wedding one."
Harry's mind flipped back to think of the main wedding photograph he had received in the red leather-covered album. It showed his parents, Sirius as the best man, and a laughing blonde in a light blue bridesmaid dress. It was obviously Chloe.
"Yeah, I think I recognise you now." There was nothing else he could think of to say.
"Well, you haven't seen me for about fourteen years, so that's quite good. Oh, I almost forgot." Harry watched as she dug through the pocket of her old denim jacket and produced an envelope adressed to him. "Sirius told me to give this to you. He decided to write because he won't be seeing you for a couple of months." She smiled. "I daresay you know that he's got to go around the country and get up the old crowd of Aurors."
Harry nodded and took the envelope. "Thanks."
At this moment, Dumbledore knocked on the door and came in again. He smiled as he sat, and Chloe returned it. Harry saw that she had stopped quaking now.
"I hope you'll be alright to talk about this subject now." he said. They nodded in answer, and Chloe said, "Yeah, we've caught up a bit."
"Good. Now, this is a very serious matter." Dumbledore's light blue eyes peered over the half-moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose at Harry. "Harry, I have no wish to worry you, but I believe you have a right to know this. After Voldemort's ressurection in the summer, he has disappeared. This is dispite our best efforts to track him down, and we now have no idea where he is."
Harry suddenly felt like somebody had dunked a vat of freezing water over his head. His insides seemed to disappear when he realised the gravity of the situation now. Voldemort was hiding somewhere, possibly biding some time before he struck again. But why? What could he gain from that? Why didn't he just establish himself again as the most powerful and evil dark wizard ever immediately? His emerald eyes rivited on the headmaster.
Dumbledore continued with a sigh. "There has been a reporting of five muggles and two witches found dead mysteriously in a small village near Rodez in southern France. We think that it may have had more than a small something to do with Voldemort."
Harry turned his head to see Chloe watching him, her smile long dead. "We're telling you this," she began, her voice sounding quite a lot more like the older woman her eyes portrayed. "Because we want you to tell us straight away if anything happens. If your scar hurts or anything-"
"How did you know about that?" Harry asked, frowning. He realised the answer almost immediately as the words left his lips.
"Both Remus and Sirius have told me this." She held up a hand to silence any possible indignant interruption, but one wasn't coming anyway. "But they wouldn't have done it if they didn't think it was absolutely necessary. And it is. If he's come back, we're all working together, and we only want you to be safe. Do you undertsand?"
Harry looked deep into those strange cat-like eyes for a moment, discovering a mother-like concern there, a profound care. He felt a pang of the familiar ache for a family before nodding. "I understand, Chloe. Thank you."
*****
Shannon leaned back in the armchair, arms folded and eyes narrowed. The subject of her glare sat opposite her, twisting her hands nervously and chewing her lip as she shot quick glances around the room.
"Go on already!" Shannon hissed. "You are really starting to annoy me now."
"Oh, I don't know." Hermione sighed helplessly. "What if he says no? What am I going to do then?"
Shannon raised an eyebrow. "If he says no after all this that I've had to put up with, I swear I'll murder him. Just go for it!"
"Oh, honestly, do I have to do this, Shan?" Hermione pleaded. "Please, can't I just wait to see if he asks me first?"
"No, you will go now." Shannon's tone was final. "Or I'll yell out to him for this whole room to hear."
Hermione became aware of just how crowded the common room really was, and her cheeks began to pinken. "No, you wouldn't!"
"I've heard that from so many people, and they all ended up with a date because I stepped in. You have a choice, but not one by where you can escape him knowing you want to go the the dance with him."
"I never actually said that!"
"Not in those words, but you've overly implied it." Shannon groaned. "What do you think I am, blind and deaf? Get your backside over there and ask him, or I'll call."
"You are truly cruel, Shannon Parks." Hermione muttered, gathering her resolve and dragging herself out of the chair. Shannon grinned.
"Thank you. Now go!"
Hermione set her sight on her destination, took a deep breath, and began to walk. It was stupid to feel this panicky, she told herself, when she saw this boy every day anyway. All she had to do was ask him to go with her to the dance and, if he refused, act nonchalant. It wasn't a big deal, she could easily do this.
She glanced back to see Shannon waching her closely, eyebrow still arched. Hermione bit her lip, telepathically questioning whether this was really necessary. Shannon smirked in reply, cupp;ed her hands to her mouth, and took a deep breath, ready to put the full force of her loud voice to use.
Hermione turned back from the unpleasant prospect of having her private life broadcast to every Gryffindor present, and continued. Why was the walk to the window so much longer? Just to deter her, she supposed. But eventually she reached the table where the boy sat, playing chess by himself. She gulped and took another deep breath.
"Hi Ron," she said, voice sounding surprisingly calm to her. He looked up and smiled.
"Hi Hermione. Listen, I was going to-"
"No, I have to tell you something first."
"This is kinda important..."
"So is this." Hermione was determined not to let her courage slip now that she had started this, and Ron could tell her whatever it was afterwards.
"Me first." They said at the exact same time, took a breath in perfect unison, and both blurted out, "Will you go to the Winter Dance with me?"
The was a stunned pause as they both realised what had happened, and then they both began to laugh.
"Sure, OK." That was timed perfectly as well.
Harry entered the common room as Hermione sat down next to Ron and glanced around, seeing Shannon first. She grinned and beckoned him over. He obeyed and took up Hermione's vacated seat opposite her.
"How was your chat with McGonagall?" she asked. "What'd ya do wrong?"
"Nothing. I had to see Dumbledore, but I'll explain in a minute." He looked around again. "Where're Ron and Hermione?"
Shannon's grin grew wider as she gestured over to the table by the window where their friends sat chatting. "Don't look now but I may have set up the young romance of the year."
*****
On holiday at the moment, so I'm off to stockpile some chapters right now. Review please, and more shall be submitted!
Disclaimer:All hail the Almighty J.K. Rowling! All hail the Almighty Chimpy! (Silvermoon will get that joke.) All hail the Almighty Shadowz! (What? I own something, thanx very much!) All hail the Almighty Bowl of Sugar! (too true, too true.)
Dedication: Emily, who reviewed this about 4 times. ;-D Oh, and Emily? If you check, Harry lives in Diagon Alley for a week in 3 rd year, but doesn't go there in the fourth. HE GOES TO THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP! Ahem. Anyways, I counted that as two years.
Harry Potter and the Crystal of Dreams.
"MISS PARKS! PAY ATTENTION!" McGonagall hollered from the front of the classroom.
It was the end of another Transfiguration lesson, five minutes before the bell signalled the end of another day's long slog at the studies. The hairbrush-cum-Pelicans that they had been using sat sqwaking in the cage on the teacher's desk (Neville's had an interesting pattern of bristles over its back and wings). Shannon had been firing random coloured sparks into the air, a pointless task for a bored five minutes, and definitely not listening to the teacher.
Shannon looked up, eyes wide with guilt. "Oh. Sorry professor." She glanced briefly at the willow stick in her hand. "I'll just put this down." She slowly lowered her wand to the desk, where it promptly started and shot out a jet of green light. The light bounded off of one wall, and hit the bookshelf bracket opposite, causing it to drop with a clang to the stone floor, and the heavy volumes of Transfiguration texts to slide off it as unfortunate Ravenclaws ran for cover.
Shannon bit her lip as some laughed and some glared. Professor McGonagall was applying the latter. She was silent for a second then raised her eyebrows sheepishly. "Oops?"
With an irritable sigh and a wave of her wand, McGonagall cleared up the mess and ordered apprehensive students back to their seats."Just leave that wand where it is, Miss Parks, and for once just LISTEN!." She calmed and looked over the class as a whole. The last few gigglers quietened instantly and listened intently. Silence fell for a moment before she continued.
"Now, those of you who were here last year will remember the Yule Ball as part of our Triwizard Tournament. This year, a similar function will be held, called the Winter Dance. As before, all above the third year can attend, but younger students can be invited. It will take place in the Great Hall on the last evening of term, the seventeenth." The bell rang. "You are dismissed."
The pupils began to chatter excitedly at the prospect of another dance. Harry didn't feel so optimistic, remembering how last year's one had turned out. As if he needed a replay of that. He shoved his books into his bag and joined his friends in the rush for the door. Shannon and Hermione were discussing something in low voices. Just before he could leave, however, McGonagall's voice rang out.
"Mr. Potter, could I have a word please?" An order, not a request.
"I'll catch you up later." He muttered to the others, and went back, wondering what he could have done wrong. The deputy headmistress stood by her desk, peering sternly over her glasses at him. For a brief moment, he thought he saw something like pity there, but then it was gone.
"Potter, please follow me. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you." She walked out of the room, a sign that he should do as she said. He trapsed behind her through corridors of milling students heading for their common rooms.
He recognised the way, and when they eventually left behind the crowds, he asked, "Why does he want to see me?"
"There is someone you must meet." She replied simply. They had reached the stone gargoyle by now. "Sugar quill!"
The gargoyle became alive at once, wriggled, and sprung out of their way. The teacher turned to Harry.
"I believe you already know the way to the headmaster's office." she said. He stared at her, and after a second she pursed her lips. "Well, go ahead then!"
Harry stepped through the gap and onto the bottom of the moving staircase. By the time it had carried him halfway up to his destination, he heard the gargoyle hop back into its original position. A minute later, and he was standing outside the door to Dumbledore's office. From within, he could hear two voices conversing, Dumbledore's and the voice of a woman who sounded quite worried. He hesitated momentarily before raising his fist to knock on it.
"Come in," Dumbledore called, and Harry obeyed, wondering what was going on.
The office of the Hogwart's headmaster was identical to the last time he had seen it. Fawkes snoozed on his perch as peacefully as the portraits of old headteachers in their frames. The ruby-studded sword that he had pulled from the Sorting Hat in his second year glittered in its glass case, whilst the ancient hat sat on one of the tables full of whirring silver contraptions.
Harry approached the desk, which Dumbledore sat behind, smiling at him kindly. The woman that he had heard speaking leapt up from one of the two seats opposite Dumbledore. He watched her as he came closer, intrigued somewhat by the unknown reason why she looked so pale and why she was shaking.
She was a very pretty woman, almost as beautiful as his mother, and probably about the age she would be now- in her mid-thirties. Something, however, made her look a bit younger, but her slanted ice-blue eyes looked as though they had experienced pain and suffering in their time. She was dressed in muggle clothes, and her toffee coloured hair was taken back into a high ponytail.
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'd like you to meet a friend of your parents', Chloe Taylor. Chloe, I think you already know Harry."
She nodded, then added in a very faint voice, "I'm glad to see you again Harry."
"Hi." Harry nodded at her, and she managed a very weak smile, still looking very shaken and slightly ill.
"Harry, Chloe, please sit down." Dumbledore gestured to the two chairs, and they took them. "Good. I'll give you two a moment to catch up, then return to discuss the issues at hand with you."
He left them, robes sweeping behind him as he went. After the click of the door, there was an awkward silence that neither quite knew who to break. Eventually, Chloe gave a small laugh.
"Gave me a bit of a fright, I'm sorry. I'd swear you were James back in the fifth year. I bet lots of people have said how much you look like him, but with Lily's eyes." she told him.
"Yeah, they did." There was a pause, then he added, "You knew my parents?"
"I was...am your mother's best friend. I sent some of the pictures for your photo album about four years ago, think I'm in a couple. The wedding one."
Harry's mind flipped back to think of the main wedding photograph he had received in the red leather-covered album. It showed his parents, Sirius as the best man, and a laughing blonde in a light blue bridesmaid dress. It was obviously Chloe.
"Yeah, I think I recognise you now." There was nothing else he could think of to say.
"Well, you haven't seen me for about fourteen years, so that's quite good. Oh, I almost forgot." Harry watched as she dug through the pocket of her old denim jacket and produced an envelope adressed to him. "Sirius told me to give this to you. He decided to write because he won't be seeing you for a couple of months." She smiled. "I daresay you know that he's got to go around the country and get up the old crowd of Aurors."
Harry nodded and took the envelope. "Thanks."
At this moment, Dumbledore knocked on the door and came in again. He smiled as he sat, and Chloe returned it. Harry saw that she had stopped quaking now.
"I hope you'll be alright to talk about this subject now." he said. They nodded in answer, and Chloe said, "Yeah, we've caught up a bit."
"Good. Now, this is a very serious matter." Dumbledore's light blue eyes peered over the half-moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose at Harry. "Harry, I have no wish to worry you, but I believe you have a right to know this. After Voldemort's ressurection in the summer, he has disappeared. This is dispite our best efforts to track him down, and we now have no idea where he is."
Harry suddenly felt like somebody had dunked a vat of freezing water over his head. His insides seemed to disappear when he realised the gravity of the situation now. Voldemort was hiding somewhere, possibly biding some time before he struck again. But why? What could he gain from that? Why didn't he just establish himself again as the most powerful and evil dark wizard ever immediately? His emerald eyes rivited on the headmaster.
Dumbledore continued with a sigh. "There has been a reporting of five muggles and two witches found dead mysteriously in a small village near Rodez in southern France. We think that it may have had more than a small something to do with Voldemort."
Harry turned his head to see Chloe watching him, her smile long dead. "We're telling you this," she began, her voice sounding quite a lot more like the older woman her eyes portrayed. "Because we want you to tell us straight away if anything happens. If your scar hurts or anything-"
"How did you know about that?" Harry asked, frowning. He realised the answer almost immediately as the words left his lips.
"Both Remus and Sirius have told me this." She held up a hand to silence any possible indignant interruption, but one wasn't coming anyway. "But they wouldn't have done it if they didn't think it was absolutely necessary. And it is. If he's come back, we're all working together, and we only want you to be safe. Do you undertsand?"
Harry looked deep into those strange cat-like eyes for a moment, discovering a mother-like concern there, a profound care. He felt a pang of the familiar ache for a family before nodding. "I understand, Chloe. Thank you."
*****
Shannon leaned back in the armchair, arms folded and eyes narrowed. The subject of her glare sat opposite her, twisting her hands nervously and chewing her lip as she shot quick glances around the room.
"Go on already!" Shannon hissed. "You are really starting to annoy me now."
"Oh, I don't know." Hermione sighed helplessly. "What if he says no? What am I going to do then?"
Shannon raised an eyebrow. "If he says no after all this that I've had to put up with, I swear I'll murder him. Just go for it!"
"Oh, honestly, do I have to do this, Shan?" Hermione pleaded. "Please, can't I just wait to see if he asks me first?"
"No, you will go now." Shannon's tone was final. "Or I'll yell out to him for this whole room to hear."
Hermione became aware of just how crowded the common room really was, and her cheeks began to pinken. "No, you wouldn't!"
"I've heard that from so many people, and they all ended up with a date because I stepped in. You have a choice, but not one by where you can escape him knowing you want to go the the dance with him."
"I never actually said that!"
"Not in those words, but you've overly implied it." Shannon groaned. "What do you think I am, blind and deaf? Get your backside over there and ask him, or I'll call."
"You are truly cruel, Shannon Parks." Hermione muttered, gathering her resolve and dragging herself out of the chair. Shannon grinned.
"Thank you. Now go!"
Hermione set her sight on her destination, took a deep breath, and began to walk. It was stupid to feel this panicky, she told herself, when she saw this boy every day anyway. All she had to do was ask him to go with her to the dance and, if he refused, act nonchalant. It wasn't a big deal, she could easily do this.
She glanced back to see Shannon waching her closely, eyebrow still arched. Hermione bit her lip, telepathically questioning whether this was really necessary. Shannon smirked in reply, cupp;ed her hands to her mouth, and took a deep breath, ready to put the full force of her loud voice to use.
Hermione turned back from the unpleasant prospect of having her private life broadcast to every Gryffindor present, and continued. Why was the walk to the window so much longer? Just to deter her, she supposed. But eventually she reached the table where the boy sat, playing chess by himself. She gulped and took another deep breath.
"Hi Ron," she said, voice sounding surprisingly calm to her. He looked up and smiled.
"Hi Hermione. Listen, I was going to-"
"No, I have to tell you something first."
"This is kinda important..."
"So is this." Hermione was determined not to let her courage slip now that she had started this, and Ron could tell her whatever it was afterwards.
"Me first." They said at the exact same time, took a breath in perfect unison, and both blurted out, "Will you go to the Winter Dance with me?"
The was a stunned pause as they both realised what had happened, and then they both began to laugh.
"Sure, OK." That was timed perfectly as well.
Harry entered the common room as Hermione sat down next to Ron and glanced around, seeing Shannon first. She grinned and beckoned him over. He obeyed and took up Hermione's vacated seat opposite her.
"How was your chat with McGonagall?" she asked. "What'd ya do wrong?"
"Nothing. I had to see Dumbledore, but I'll explain in a minute." He looked around again. "Where're Ron and Hermione?"
Shannon's grin grew wider as she gestured over to the table by the window where their friends sat chatting. "Don't look now but I may have set up the young romance of the year."
*****
On holiday at the moment, so I'm off to stockpile some chapters right now. Review please, and more shall be submitted!