Chapter 9: Time to learn what really bugs you…

Harry was still smiling as he sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron looked at him.

"You're late," Ron said.

"I know…I had to talk with Dumbledore for a moment."

"What about?" Hermione asked loudly.

"Oh, nothing. I'm sure you'll know soon enough." He served himself some pork chops. "The whole school should know by tomorrow."

"Okay…"

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed quite uneventfully, and Harry woke up Monday morning feeling very groggy. He looked at his watch (Hermione had fixed it) which read: 7:30. He had thirty minutes until breakfast, which were spent down in the common room with Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione were playing Wizard's Chess when Harry walked in..

"Morning Harry," Hermione said brightly as her pawn was dragged away by Ron's bishop.

"You should've moved your pawn," Ron teased, grinning as Hermione shot him an annoyed look.

"I think I know how to play, thanks," she retorted. Ron grinned wider still. He moved his rook into position.

"Checkmate. That's how you play Chess," he finished, grabbing the pieces and tossing them in a bag. Harry looked at his watch.

"Well, now that you two are done," he interrupted them, "we can go down to breakfast." They nodded in agreement.

* * *

Harry sat down at the table, ladling some porridge into a bowl. He had just begun to eat, when he heard a flutter of wings from above.

"Post," Ron muttered, his mouth full of food. Hedwig landed on the table with a soft thud.

"Hi Hedwig. What d'you have for me?" he asked. She nipped him on the ear playfully. "Oh, that." He grinned as she began eating his porridge.

"PIG!" Ron yelled. Harry looked up. Pig had landed in Ron's porridge, sagging under the weight of his burden. Ron untied the bundle from Pig's leg, unrolling the Daily Prophet. He began to read the headlines to himself.

They talked for the rest of breakfast and walked out of the Great Hall feeling full as usual. They strode into the Entrance Hall, hoping, as always, that Hagrid might be back. Maybe today's Care of Magical Creatures class will go well, Harry thought as they walked through the grounds toward Hagrid's hut. They stopped abruptly after hearing a cold voice.

"Well, Potter," the voice of Draco Malfoy called from beside them, "it looks like she's still on about you, after all."

"What are you on about, Malfoy?"

"This," Malfoy continued, stepping in front of them and taking the day's Daily Prophet out of his pocket. He smiled smugly at Harry and read aloud:

"Harry Potter: Love and Hate

Harry Potter is now grieving more than ever, writes Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Special Correspondent. The boy was informed on Saturday of his parent's tragic past. After being told that his father was an Auror, a job that offers very little pay, Mr. Potter was abashed and immediately fled to his dormitory, where he met Hermione Granger, the girl he continues to date at this time. The Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal that this young man also possesses a title, one that Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster, has seemingly forgotten (old age obviously getting to him) to divulge to the Wizarding public. Harry Potter is the heir to Godric Gryffindor through his father's side, an item that adds to the envy some have for this green-eyed wizard. "He's very arrogant," stated Draco Malfoy, a handsome fifth year. "I can see him running around showing off his new title." The new information given to Harry also includes information on his Secret Keeper, material that the Daily Prophet is prohibited from publishing. Through all of this, we only wish Mr. Potter the best, and hope that his ashamed face will clear so we might enjoy those bright green eyes once more.

"So that's why he wanted to kill you?" Malfoy asked snobbishly. "All because you have a stupid title?"

"And what if it was, Malfoy? Now move."

The three of them shoved him out of the way and continued walking. When they reached Hagrid's small wooden house they stopped quickly. The door swung open, and out walked someone nobody expected.

"Hello, students," she called as two Slytherins walked toward the hut. "Some of you may remember me. My name is Professor Grubblyplank, and I am going to be teaching you whilst your normal teacher is away." Malfoy could be heard chortling a laugh. "Now, today we'll be learning about Kneazles. I have these crates full of them," she continued, pointing to the wooden crates that were situated beside her. Opening a crate, she pulled out one of the soft, furry creatures. The animal closely resembled a cat.

"I would like each of you to come get one. Be gentle now!"

Harry walked up to the open crate, Ron and Hermione following suit behind him. He pulled one randomly out of the crate, feeling it curl up almost immediately. It was white with brown spots, and its tongue slithered out of its mouth at an uncontrollable rate, licking his face.

"Kneazles love to be petted. They'll take to you almost immediately if you just pet them. Kneazles make wonderful house pets, seeing that they love children."

"I had one once," Ron mumbled to Harry and Hermione, "but Fred and George used him for Quidditch practise. Harry sniggered. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, however, so he continued to – or pretended to, at least – listen to Professor Grubblyplank.

"…They enjoy finding treasure. As-a-matter-of-a-fact, they sometimes eat bogies out of one's nose whilst one sleeps."

"Well, thanks for that," Malfoy said loudly. Professor Grubblyplank glared at him.

"Ten points from Slytherin," she said quietly and, luckily for Harry, the bell rang.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by so quickly, Harry wondered where it'd got off to, but he was happy to find himself sitting in the warm common room with Ron and Hermione later that night. He stared out the window, watching the first snowflakes of winter fall from the cloudy November sky.

"Harry? HARRY!" Hermione called from a long way off.

"Hmmm?"

"Look, I'm really sorry about the article. I told her not to write another one, but you know how she is."

"It's okay…I guess," Harry whispered quietly. "Tomorrow the entire school will be talking about it."

Harry imagined (with a sudden fear) Cho Chang standing with a large group of friends, gossiping about him. The thought made him shudder.

"Well, I-I guess I'll go to bed now," Harry muttered, standing up and leaving Ron and Hermione looking bewildered.

* * *

Harry put on his pyjamas, climbing into his four-poster sleepily. Looking out at the air-borne snowflakes, he soon fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The hall was dark, owing to the fact that little light entered inside its walls nowadays. The floor was thick with dust. At the end of the long corridor, one could see a single door, opened slightly, a slither of light protruding from its opening...

Harry awoke suddenly, a cold sweat wetting his face. His scar was tingling, but he couldn't understand why. He remembered the dream vividly. It involved a door…a door that stood, silently…at the end of a long, dark, and dingy corridor. But what could possibly be so frightening about a door that it'd awoken him? He lay there for a while, pondering. He looked outside the window. It was still dark out, so it must have been early morning. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry decided to go down to the common room. He reached for his round glasses, putting them on over his bright green eyes. The dark room came into focus. 'Just great,' Harry thought as he walked down the spiral staircase that led to the common room. 'Two bad things happen in one day…."

He didn't expect Her to be down in the common room this late at night. He sat down in an armchair quickly. That way, maybe she wouldn't notice —

"What're you doing down here?" Too late. Harry nearly jumped a foot.

"I couldn't sleep…had a nightmare…" he answered. Ginny looked at him curiously.

"It won't interest you. Quite stupid, really—"

"Well, what was it then? I won't laugh, I swear," she said.

" I dreamt…. I dreamt about a door. It really scared me, and I can't understand why…So why are you up, anyway?"

"I have dreams sometimes. Repeating nightmares, you know?"

Harry nodded understandingly, and Ginny blushed a deep crimson.

"I come down here a lot. Helps me sleep," Ginny continued, yawning.

Harry turned and looked out the window. It was no longer snowing, and the sky shone with stars.

"I-I er…" he said, turning towards her. Ginny's eyes were closed. She was sleeping "G'night," he whispered, before falling asleep himself.