A Harry Situation
By Jill Weber/ Jelsemium
Characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.
Chapter 23: Back to Work
Out of the hospital wing
The second week of October was Harry's first week out of the Hospital Wing.
It was miserable.
Harry's very first class was Potions, always guaranteed to be torture. It didn't help that his ill-fitting robes made him look like he'd been dressed by a cross-eyed house-elf.
The Slytherins had a field day with his clothes. Pansy's comments were especially pointed.
Snape was in an especially vindictive mood, no doubt because he'd missed a whole month of Harry baiting. Harry managed to melt his cauldron. Snape gloatingly gave him detention. "I knew you couldn't stay out of trouble for very long, Potter," Snape sneered.
"What an idiot," sniggered Pansy Parkinson. "Bet he can't even tell a hawk from a handsaw."
Harry shot her an incredulous look.
"Look, Potty, just because my father made me come to your ridiculous little party at the hospital doesn't mean I think you're an actual human being," sneered Pansy.
"Good one," Malfoy sneered. "Glad to know you're not interested in associating with his kind."
"Potter, fifteen points from Gryffindor for not paying attention in class!" Snape bellowed suddenly.
Harry wheeled around and somehow managed to look like he was focusing on Snape's instructions. At least he didn't melt another cauldron… that day.
***
In Charms, Flitwick was going over the Charms that might be on the O.W.L. It should have been easy, after all the charms and hexes that Harry had learned for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. However, he kept mixing the spells up, so he'd banish something he meant to summon, or he'd summon the wrong thing. Once he managed to float every loose article in the room to the ceiling when he meant to float a feather.
Flitwick wasn't angry. However, he gave Harry extra homework just to get things straight in his mind.
"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly. "You look as though you were in pain."
"I just have a tremendous headache, Hermione," Harry said. He shoved his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "This hasn't been a good day."
***
It didn't take the Inner Eye to know that Divination would be bad. It was always bad. Professor Trelawney took one look at him and burst into tears. "My dear, my poor, poor dear!" she sobbed. The only good side to her theatrics was that she used up one third of the class period in having them.
The class went downhill quickly after that, though. They started out by studying Acultomancy, divination by needles. However, when Harry poked a hole in his finger, Trelawney immediately changed over to Dririmancy, divination by reading the patterns of dripping blood.
"I predict that someone is going to lose house points," Ron said in a misty voice.
"Can I have a damn bandage now?" Harry demanded.
"Five points from Gryffindor for your foul language, Mr. Potter," Madam Trelawney murmured. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor for your remarkable display of Second Sight, Mr. Weasley."
"Well, at least we came out ahead on points," Ron pointed out contentedly.
Harry's reply would have lost Gryffindor another twenty points had a teacher overheard.
He had to promise Hermione to spend an extra half-hour with her revising for the Charms O.W.L. before she'd use a healing charm on him. He flat out refused to go to the Hospital Wing. "Pomfrey will force me to drink something Snape brewed," he growled.
***
Herbology was in Greenhouse Two. Harry made sure to stay away from the Wizard's Bane, but his imagination brought the scent of it clearly to his nostrils. He barely even noticed the lovely blue roses that he was pruning. It was lucky that he'd had plenty of practice with roses at Privet Drive or he might have damaged them in his distracted state.
However, he did wind up puncturing his fingers again, and had to promise Hermione another half-hour of PROWL revision in return for the proper healing charm.
"She's going to start poking holes in your fingers herself," Ron predicted with relish.
"Why don't you master this charm so I don't have to ask her?" Harry said.
"You're the one with the damaged fingers, mate," Ron said smugly. "Why don't you learn it?"
"I've bloody tried!" Harry shot back. "Besides, I thought that you were the one who wanted to be a Mediwizard. Why don't you already know this one?"
Ron mastered that spell in an amazingly short time.
***
Transfiguration was arguably the worst class. For some reason, nothing turned into what it should have. Instead of turning his handkerchief into toilet paper, it turned into a catalog. Instead of turning his sword into a plowshare, he turned it into a catapult. When he tried to turn his book into a worm, it turned into a caterpillar instead. Somehow, Transfiguration and cats had become permanently associated in his brain.
"I see you need some extra work in Transfiguration, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said sternly as she handed him a reading list that only Hermione could love.
In addition to all the extra class work he'd managed to accumulate, the Animagus studies weren't being nearly as much fun as he'd hoped they'd be. He still found the theory of how to switch forms to be fairly straightforward. However, the safety measures that were giving him problems. Caution didn't seem to be part of his nature.
Both he and Ron had done miserably on that part of McGonagall's test. That meant they had to study not just all the gruesome things that could go wrong with animal transfigurations but why they'd gone wrong and how to avoid them.
"You wouldn't want to get stuck midway between a human or an animal," McGonagall said firmly. "Witherwing is a famous Animagus. His animal shape was a swan and one day he transfigured from swan to a human, but one arm remained a wing. I want three feet of parchment on what happened and what you intend to do to avoid that."
***
History of Magic went by as quietly as usual. It was boring, but it let Harry read a letter from his grandfather, via Mr. Parkinson and an extremely brief note from Sirius, via Lupin.
It also let him catch up on his sleep. He kept expecting to have nightmares, which made it very hard to sleep. However, he did not have any Voldemort type nightmares. Harry hoped that was a good thing. He didn't believe that, though.
***
Astronomy also went by easily, because Professor Sinistra, pleased to see Harry using her gift to Lily, hadn't objected to his lying on his back and looking at the stars through the spyglass.
Harry asked her why she'd given it to his mother, but Professor Sinistra claimed that she couldn't remember. Harry however, remembered that the note had mentioned something about Sirius and he realized that Sinistra still thought Sirius was a murderer. He didn't press her for information. He wished that she could be told the truth about Sirius, though.
***
Care of Magical Creatures became too interesting, as usual. Now that the class was being held outdoors again, Hagrid was back to his usual 'interestin' critters.' The first lesson was the care and feeding of Kappas.
"Nex' week we'll get into Hinkypunks," Hagrid said happily. "An' after that it'll be Red Caps or Grindylows."
"Wait a minute," Dean protested. "This list sounds familiar!"
"Well, o'course," Hagrid said genially. "I foun' one o' Lupin's old course outlines. I reckoned they'd be good for you to work on, seein' that yeh already know how ter defend yerselves again' 'em."
Malfoy, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle dropped out of the class. That was the best thing that happened to Harry for a long time.
Saturday
Harry was grateful when Saturday arrived. He got to sleep late. He didn't have to face the Slytherins. Even Professor McGonagall had told him and Ron that she was letting them off Animagi studies for the day.
"Miss Johnson is planning to start Quidditch training," McGonagall said. "I expect you two to work very hard on that."
"Yes, Professor," Ron and Harry had chorused.
"How does your new broom feel, Mr. Weasley?"
"Wonderful!" Ron grinned.
"What did you get?" McGonagall wanted to know.
"A Flying Tiger," Ron said happily. "I happened across an advert put in by some witch whose husband bought one without consulting her. It's practically new and it cost less than the Cleansweep 8's that Ginny and Kathleen bought."
"How did your parents react when you told them?"
"Bill sent them an owl saying that all of Gryffindor pitched in to buy the three of us brooms," Ron said. "Mum's been sending homemade sweets ever since."
"Yes, she sent some to me, as well," McGonagall said with the tiniest of smiles. "Well, have a good practice and I'll see you on Monday. Bring your sister and Miss Granger if they're still interested in becoming Animagi."
"Sounds like the ugly part of the training is over," Ron said happily. "We'll probably get into the actual transfiguration lessons now."
Harry didn't answer.
"Something eating you?" Ron asked.
"Glad you like your new broom," Harry said stiffly.
Ron sighed. "I'm sorry that I blew up at you, okay? It's just…" he sighed.
"It's just what?" Harry demanded.
"You wouldn't understand," Ron snapped. "It's not like you've ever done without!"
Harry glared. "Done without? You mean I've never done without money, decent fitting clothes and real birthday presents? I didn't spend years living off the grudging charity of people who hated me? I didn't spend most of my childhood begging for affection and never getting it? YOU don't know what it's like to do without, Weasley. All you ever lacked was money!" he spat that out and turned to walk off.
The next thing he knew he was flat on his back with a sore jaw. "What was that for?"
"For trying to walk out on this," Ron said firmly. "We are not having another quarrel like last year! We're settling this now!"
"I'm not the one who keeps starting fights," growled Harry as he pulled free. He conveniently ignored the fact that he had started this fight.
"I didn't start this fight!" Ron objected.
"What is with you, anyway? Are you angry because of Ginny?" Harry demanded, ignoring Ron's protests.
"Why? What have you done with Ginny?"
"Nothing," Harry growled. "We're just friends!"
"What about you and Hermione?" Ron demanded.
"We are friends," Harry glared at him. "That's it. You would have probably noticed if we were more than that."
"Like maybe you kissing when you see each other?" Ron demanded, tight-lipped.
Harry stared at him. "When did we ever kiss?"
"In the train! When you reappeared out of thin air!" Ron reminded him.
"Oh." Harry rubbed his jaw. "So I didn't imagine it." He ran his index finger along his lower lip.
Ron gaped at him. "How could you not remember?"
"Give me a break!" Harry snapped. "I was running a fever and was operating on autopilot!" He rolled to his feet and glared up at Ron.
"On what?" Ron asked.
"I was practically a zombie by that point!" Harry snapped. "Don't tell me you've been nursing a grudge because Hermione has bad aim!"
"Bad aim?"
"She probably meant to kiss my cheek," Harry pointed out. "Trains are exactly stable, you know."
"Oh. Right." Ron hesitated.
"I'm not interested in her that way!"
"Oh."
There was an awkward pause and neither of them noticed Ginny sneaking past them.
"Why not?"
"Because," Harry shrugged. "I dunno. She's nice and pretty and everything, but I'm more interested in her as a sister than a girlfriend."
Ginny let the portrait shut very gently. She sighed and shook her head sadly. She remembered her vow that she'd love Harry's wife, no matter who it was, but that seemed like such a silly promise, now.
Harry glared at Ron. "Do you really think I'd try to steal her from you?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, it's obvious that she prefers you," Harry went on.
"It is?"
"And it's not like she's the kind to be impressed with this whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense, is it?"
"Erm, of course not," Ron said.
"And what does this have to do with me buying you a broom, anyway?" Harry asked.
"Erm," was Ron's witty rejoinder.
"I thought so."
"It's just that I feel uncomfortable when you buy me stuff," Ron said.
"Why?"
"I dunno," Ron paused. "Just do me a favor and don't buy me a Christmas present this year, okay?"
"But I like buying presents!" Harry objected.
"So, buy something for someone else. Ginny would love a present from you. Heck, buy something for everybody but me, if it makes you happy."
"Would you allow me to give you a card?" Harry asked tiredly.
"Ah, why not?" Ron said. "As long as it doesn't sing or spray anything," he added hastily when Harry grinned at him.
"Speaking of spraying things," Harry said. "I still haven't got a birthday present for Hermione. I still owe her for that fountain puzzle."
Ron grinned. "Good luck; she's a hard one to put something over on."
Practice Makes Perfect
Practice that Saturday afternoon was a dream come true. Flying was the best medicine for Harry's spirit. Quidditch was as wonderful as he remembered it.
Angelina had a knack for getting the best teamwork out of her players. Harry thought it was a shame that she hadn't had the chance to be captain last year. The Quidditch Cup would have surely had Gryffindor's name on it.
And Cedric would still be alive.
Damn the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
Harry did his best to keep those thoughts from his head as he raced Ginny for the Snitch. She was good, he thought. She might have beaten him a few times if his Firebolt hadn't been so much faster than her Cleansweep 8.
After the regular practice, Harry and Ginny stayed out so that Ginny could get the feel of the Firebolt.
"Ron graciously allowed me to fly it a few times during the summer," Ginny said. "But flying in the orchard is not the same as really flying free."
Harry thought that made sense, so he leaned back in the grass while Ginny tried some aerial acrobatics. After an hour or so, she touched down lightly and came over to Harry. "This has got to be the best broom ever created!" she crowed.
Harry didn't answer. He lay on the grass, hands clasped behind his head, completely still.
Worried, Ginny dropped to her knees next to the unmoving boy. She had a brief flash to the Chamber of Secrets. That time, she had been the one stretched out on the ground and Harry had been kneeling beside her. She reached out a trembling hand just as Harry let out a loud snort. He stirred a little, but did not open his eyes.
Ginny giggled and rocked back on her heels to watch Harry sleep. He was so cute, she thought. Perpetually tousled hair, fair skin slightly reddened from being in the sun all afternoon. She looked at his lips. They were slightly parted, as if in invitation.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Ginny leaned forward.
Suddenly, she was looking into Harry's startled eyes. The next moment, Harry was sitting three feet away with a panicky expression on his face.
"Sorry," Ginny huffed. "I didn't mean to startle you." Bitter lines formed at the corner of her mouth. "I thought we were, well, you know. Never mind, I heard you and Ron arguing."
Harry looked confused and apologetic. "I… erm… Ginny, look. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
Ginny sighed and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Harry cried. Automatically, he reached out to her as if to pull her back.
Ginny's mouth thinned like McGonagall's. She should just stomp right back to her room in Gryffindor Tower. That would teach him!
"Teach him what?" she asked herself. It wouldn't solve anything. Besides, she would always wonder what he wanted to say. Therefore, she turned around and went back over to Harry. "Well?" she said, looking down at him.
Harry blinked up at her a few times and let his hand drop back to the grass. "Erm. Oh."
Silence.
Harry looked off into the distance.
"I guess you might as well continue storming off," he said. "I haven't got a clue as to what to say."
Ginny sat down abruptly. She'd fantasized all August about the sort of deep conversations she and Harry might have had, if the idiot Fudge hadn't interfered. She was going to have deep conversation with him now if it killed them both!
She took a deep breath. "Just tell me the truth," she said quietly. "I'll deal with it the best I can. Like I said, I heard you and Ron arguing."
Harry frowned at her. "Oh, were you upset by Hermione kissing me, too?" he said.
"Oh, was that who you were talking about?" Ginny asked, startled.
Harry frowned at her. "I thought you said you overheard us."
"Erm, I heard you say that you weren't interested in 'her' that way," Ginny said.
"Oh, and you thought I meant you?"
Ginny nodded.
"Did it bother you that Hermione kissed me?"
"Erm, no. I know why she kissed you. I only wished that I'd had the nerve to kiss you, too." Ginny hesitated. "I don't think Hermione is interested in you."
"Good," Harry said.
"So, what is the truth about how you feel about me?" Ginny said, plucking up her Gryffindor courage.
Harry started plucking up blades of grass. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. "Well, the thing is, I don't know what the truth is. I like you and all."
"But not that way," Ginny said.
"I don't know," Harry said. He was silent for a while, and then he sighed. "I'm sorry, I guess it's stupid, but I don't know if I like you… that way or not." He looked at her. "I mean, you're a wonderful person, and I appreciate all the nice things that you did for me over the summer, and I think you're really smart and funny."
"So, you don't mind that I'm not very pretty?" Ginny asked.
"Pretty? You're beautiful!"
Harry's eyes went wide. Where had that come from? Was he stringing her along? After all, he'd just said that he wasn't interested. Wait, he said he didn't know if he was interested. Oh, bloody hell, what am I supposed to do? He didn't know how to retract that without hurting her feelings and he really, really did not want to hurt Ginny Weasley's feelings.
Tell her the truth, she said. Okay, so what was the truth? "Sorry," he muttered. "That's giving you mixed signals, but you did ask for the truth."
Ginny was glad he wasn't looking at her, because her jaw refused to come off the lawn. She was beautiful? Harry Potter thought she was beautiful? Then why didn't he like her that way? Was he interested in somebody else? Did he think Cho Chang was beautiful? All these questions flashed through her mind and were instantly dismissed as being unfair or something she did not want to know. After almost a minute of silence, she realized what the only reasonable answer was.
"Erm, thank you," she said.
"You're welcome."
There was an awkward silence. Harry began to fuss with the twigs of his Firebolt. "Um, look, I really don't want to hurt you, but I'm not sure what to do next. Can we just, erm, be friends for now?"
Ginny smiled a little sadly. "Well, yes, that will be a good place to start. Ron and Hermione started as friends, didn't they?"
"I don't think they're quite an item yet," Harry said. "Besides, I don't want to argue all the time like they do."
Ginny grinned. "Okay, we'll see if we can do this more… quietly."
Harry flashed her a shy smile that made her knees quiver and her stomach growl. She blushed when she realized that her stomach growling probably had nothing to do with budding romance.
"I guess we should get back to the castle now," Harry said, politely pretending he hadn't heard her stomach. "It's almost dinner time."
"Okay," Ginny said. They gathered their gear and headed back for the castle.
"By the way, McGonagall said that you and Hermione were welcome to join us in our Animagus lessons if you wanted," Harry said.
"Oh, I want," Ginny said. "I'm dying to know what Hermione's Animagus form is."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Mine, too, of course," she added. "But I really want to know what made that book catch on fire."
"Ah," Harry replied.
They walked in silence, each trying to sort through a plethora of confusing emotions.
To Ginny, it finally boiled down to one simple fact. Harry Potter had said she was beautiful. She had to concentrate very hard not to start skipping.
Sirius Letter:
Sunday, Harry got a longer letter from Sirius that told him almost nothing that he wanted to know other than the fact that Sirius and Remus were alive, somewhere. Harry sighed. He really didn't expect Sirius to fill him in by owl; there was too much danger of it being intercepted. He just wanted to know that Sirius wasn't doing something stupid.
He forced himself to concentrate on the two, no three, really good bits of the letter. The longest part was a summary of how Animal Transfigurations gone wrong, complete with bibliography. ("READ THIS BOOK!" Sirius urged. "McGonagall will ask you questions about it!") The second longest was a story about how Sirius and James had sneaked into the girl's loo and swapped out the soap for bars of cleanser that would give the users freckles. The best bit was also the shortest. Sirius had signed the letter, "Love, Dad."
He stared at that for a long time, not believing how good two words could make him feel. Then he shook himself into action and headed for the library for a copy of Man or Mouse? Why You REALLY Don't Want to be an Animagus.
Not Like the Rehearsal
Cho Chang had been watching Harry Potter all term. She'd seen him shovel down food at the Welcoming Feast as if he didn't have a care in the world. How dare he? How dare he be alive when Cedric was dead? How dare he be happy when she'd spent the summer in mourning? How dare he just get on with his life as if nothing had happened?
Dumbledore said that You-Know-Who had killed Cedric, so Potter wasn't actually a murderer. However, it was his carelessness that had cost Cedric his life. She wanted to punish him for that. Not kill him; of course, she wasn't that kind. She just wanted to make him suffer a fraction of what she had suffered, of what the Diggory family had suffered.
She started planning. Actually, she'd been planning all summer. Practicing the scathing lecture that she would deliver to Potter to punish him. She planned all the right words to bring home the enormity of what he'd done.
She thought about going to see him in the Hospital Wing, but didn't want to risk running into his fan club. "My god," she thought sourly. "After all he's done, how can he still have a fan club?"
Her chance came shortly before the first Quidditch match of the season. It was to be Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Cho wasn't sure that she could handle it. She'd probably spend as much time trying to foul Potter as she did trying to catch the Snitch. Maybe she shouldn't even bother trying to catch the Snitch, she thought as she made her way to the library. The only one who had ever beaten Potter was Cedric. Now Cedric was dead and Potter…
Potter almost ran into her on his way out of the library.
They stared at each other for a few heartbeats. He was looking healthy and he appeared to have been eating and sleeping well. Cho opened her mouth to berate him, but before she did, she met his eyes.
His eyes held the same pain that Cho saw in her mirror every day.
"Cho, I'm so sorry," Harry said hoarsely. "I never meant to enter that contest. I never meant to get Cedric… for Cedric to…"
Cho's carefully rehearsed diatribe vanished from her mind and a large chunk of bitterness vanished from her heart. Harry wasn't guilty, nor was he carefree. Suddenly she realized that he had not just shrugged off Cedric's death. It had meant something to him.
"I know," she said. "I believe you. It's not your fault." She lowered her eyes. "I'm grateful that you brought him back with you."
"It was the least I could do," Harry said bitterly.
"I was wondering… I know Dumbledore told us not to ask, but…"
"If you want, I'll tell you what happened that night," Harry said hoarsely. "But I can't right now."
"Thank you," Cho said.
"Cho?" Harry held the door open for her. "He didn't suffer, I mean, we didn't have time to realize what was going on before he got killed and… and it was fast. If that's any consolation, he didn't get tortured or anything."
Cho took a deep breath and another pain inside her subsided. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "I'll be able to sleep better knowing that."
Girl Talk/ Boy Advice:
"Ginny? Are you all right?" Hermione asked.
Ginny looked up from her History of Magic essay and made a face. "I've been worse," she said. "Any day that doesn't start with rooster feathers all over my pillow can't be all bad."
Hermione was taken aback. She'd never heard Ginny joke about Riddle's diary before.
"Yes, I can make jokes about it, now," Ginny said. "They aren't very good ones, but Professor Dumbledore tells me it's the spirit that counts." She slammed her book shut. "Too bad Binns doesn't have any spirit in his teaching."
Hermione giggled. "You'd think that a ghost would have more spirit," she said. She plunked down a tray that held a plate of sandwiches, some apples and a jug on the table. "You missed dinner," she said. She poured the juice into two golden goblets.
Ginny's eyes went wide. "Oh, my," she looked at her textbook. "Would you believe me if I said I was so interested in the adventures of Boris Bad-enough that I completely lost track of time?" She picked up a sandwich and took a bite out of it. Trust Hermione to know that corned beef was her favorite. (She'd learned to like it because it was one of the few things that Ron wouldn't eat, so there would always be plenty of it for her.)
"No."
Ginny took a swig of juice and found out it was soft apple cider. "Would you believe that I was so busy daydreaming about Harry that I forgot to finish my essay, which is due first thing tomorrow and I've been desperately trying to finish it before bedtime?"
"Sounds more reasonable," Hermione said. "So, how are things going with you and Harry? You've been spending a lot of time together after the Quidditch practices." She took a swig of her cider.
"Confusing," Ginny sighed. "He says he likes me." She leaned closer and whispered in Hermione's ear. "He said I was beautiful!"
Hermione broke into a wide grin. "Sounds promising!" She wondered what it felt like to be beautiful.
"The trouble is, he isn't sure if he likes me, you know, that way."
"You know what you want," Hermione said. "Why not make a move?"
"I tried stealing a kiss from him and he almost leaped out of his skin," Ginny confessed.
"Oh, dear, he wasn't offended was he?"
"No, he was just startled," Ginny sighed. "We talked a little after that, and he asked if we could take it slow?"
"Well, that's better than a definite, 'thanks, but no thanks,'" Hermione said.
"But not by much," Ginny sighed.
"Ladies!" George's voice boomed in their ears.
They both jumped and shrieked.
George's grin almost split his face in two. "And I wasn't even trying, damn I'm good!"
"George, one point from Gryffindor for being a prat!" Hermione snapped.
"Hey, I was only trying to help!" George said in wounded tones.
"Trying to help yourself to a sandwich," Ginny muttered darkly.
"Don't mind if I do," George said, snagging one. "I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation."
"That's because you were eavesdropping," Ginny said.
"You think that might have something to do with it?" George said curiously. "Anyway, I thought I'd give you lovely ladies a word or two of sage advice about boys."
"Really?" Hermione asked dryly.
"Well, I do have a better grasp of the boyish thinking process, such as it is, than you two. Me being a boy and you being girls."
"You were plenty surprised to find out I was a girl this summer," Ginny said with a mocking grin.
"Well, I was actually surprised that you had, shall we say, a figure? You are a very pretty young woman, Miss Weasley. For one who remembers seeing you run around the house in your nappies, that was quite a shock."
Ginny turned red. "George, if you don't have anything useful to say…" she said.
"I do! You lovely young ladies were just bemoaning a lack of romantic savvy in young Mr. Potter. However, I would like to point out to you the advantage of that."
"Which is?"
"It's honest." George suddenly looked serious. "We boys aren't very good at this sort of thing when it's our first time. People, in fact, are seldom good at something this important and complicated the first time they try it. Expertise comes with experience."
"Meaning?" Hermione cocked her head and waited for some sort of punch line. She got one, but not the way she would have expected.
"If a boy, or a man, knows all the right things to say at the beginning of a relationship, that means he's said it before." George eyed them both soberly. "Maybe even lots of times before. A young man with a lot of experience at romance probably isn't very sincere about it. So, my sage advice in the matter is to take the tongue-tied novice over the silver-tongued expert."
Ginny and Hermione looked at him with a newfound respect.
"That is very profound, brother of mine," Fred said from behind them.
All three jumped. Hermione with a small shriek, George with a yelp, and Ginny with a word worth three days' detention.
"Such language!" Fred said with admiration. "Hermione, George, you should take a page from Ginny's book. Squealing is for little girls, George."
George hit him.
"So, how are things with you and Angelina?" Ginny asked before things escalated into a brawl.
"Why do you ask?" Fred said.
"Because you seem so unhappy about something," Ginny said.
"Yeah, well, she's, you know, busy," Fred said evasively.
"Just because she's Head Girl doesn't mean she doesn't like you any more," Ginny said. "She's still Angelina. You're still Fred."
"Like that's a good thing?" Fred murmured.
"It's not a bad thing," George returned. "Look, if you're worried about impressing Angelina, then concentrate on the N.E.W.T.s. The Wheezes can wait a few months. It'll make Mum happy, too."
"In the meanwhile, ask her on a date," Ginny advised. "Let her know that you're still interested in her while you still have the chance. Don't wait until she falls for somebody else!"
"Oh," Fred said. "I suppose you're right." He smiled suddenly. "At least that's one thing that men are still superior at. Making romantic overtures."
Hermione made a face. "Women can make romantic overtures, too!" she declared hotly.
"Really? Then why haven't you made one at Ron? It's obvious that you're overwhelmed by the Weasley charm. Go on, ask him on a date," Fred said mockingly. "Ask him to go to Hogsmeade with you at the end of the month."
"We always go to…" Hermione wasn't permitted to finish.
"Better yet, ask him to go to the Hallowe'en Ball with you."
Hermione's mouth had dropped open somewhere in the middle of all this.
Ginny giggled. "He's got a point, Hermione."
"Really? In that case, why don't you ask Harry to be your date?" Hermione snapped.
George laughed. "Okay, here's the bet, you three ask the romantic partner of your choice to the Hallowe'en ball before he or she asks you. If you do, then…" he pursed his lips. "Then I'll…"
"Then you will ask McGonagall to dance with you," Ginny said with a wicked grin.
"Only if it's not against the rules for a teacher to dance with a student," George said.
"Fair enough," Ginny's grin grew wider. "If it is, then you have to ask Millicent Bulstrode."
***
Harry settled in to his classes, and stopped getting extra assignments from McGonagall and Flitwick. He also managed to avoid melting any cauldrons.
The only remarkable thing that happened in class in October was in the usually boring History of Magic class.
In one class, Binns started reading "Letters from the Past." After five minutes, Harry realized that these were actually letters from Tiberius Potter. Instead of Goblin Rebellions or Warlock Conventions, these letters detailed Tiberius' futile search for the Chamber of Secrets.
The rest of the class gaped at Binns as they caught on. Hermione took furious notes to keep up.
Afterwards, they were never sure if Binns had read Tiberius' letters on purpose or if someone (*cough* Sir Nicholas *cough*) had slipped the letters into Binns' notes without the ghostly teacher noticing.
When Binns finished with the letters, Ron interrupted Binns the way that Hermione had during their second year.
"Yes, Mr. Wisely?" Binns asked.
Ron hid a grin, but didn't correct him. "Sir, if somebody were to prove that a legend was real, could they claim that discovery as extra points on their History of Magic O.W.L.?"
Binns blinked at him. "In the late nineteenth century, Heinrich Schliemann discovered the remains of the City of Troy, which was widely believed to be nothing but a myth. There was something about that affecting his O.W.L.s, I believe."
Ron was happy until Hermione pointed out that Schliemann had been too old for O.W.L.s at that point of his career.
"Why, did you discover something?" Binns asked before Ron could do more than glare at Hermione.
"Yeah, Harry and I discovered the Chamber of Secrets."
Binns glared at them and then assigned a four-foot essay on the discovery of the Chamber of Secrets to both Ron and Harry.
Harry was rather annoyed because he had just caught up in his classes.
Sunday Afternoon with Dusty and Detention:
Harry's detention from Snape was to scrub out all the toilets in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry sighed but kept his opinion to himself. There were worse things than Moaning Myrtle. Snape knew most of them, too. It was actually rather surprising that he didn't come up for something worse.
Harry found out later that Dumbledore had given the Potions Master strict orders not to give Harry detention in the dungeons. As with many well-intentioned deeds, that one was destined to bounce back on Dumbledore's head.
"Harry! How nice to see you!" Myrtle cooed. "Come to make things nice for the next time you need to brew an illegal potion?"
"No, I just have detention for melting a cauldron in Snape's class," Harry said glumly.
"I say, that's a rather bad break," a new voice interjected.
Harry and Myrtle whirled around to see a new ghost there. The boy looked to be twelve or thirteen. "Hello," he said. "I'm Dusty."
"I'm Myrtle, this is Harry," Myrtle said. "Why haven't I seen you around before?" she asked.
"You haven't looked," Dusty replied. The boy ghost looked at Harry curiously. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"I'm on detention," Harry repeated. Reminded, he set about scrubbing out the toilets. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see if the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is really here," Dusty said.
"Yes, it is," Myrtle said firmly.
"Can I see it?" Dusty asked.
"No, only a Parselmouth can open it," Myrtle said.
"Oh," Dusty sounded disappointed.
"Besides, I don't think Dumbledore would permit it," Harry said.
"Really? That would be pretty nervy of the old boy, considering some of the things Red got up to when he was a student here."
Harry and Myrtle looked at Dusty speculatively. "You knew Albus Dumbledore when he was a student?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yes, we were in the same year," Dusty said. He drifted past a mirror and stopped. "Oh, my, I haven't looked this young in a long time."
"I thought ghosts were supposed to look the age they were when they died?" Myrtle said.
"Oh, you can't look older than you were," Dusty said. "But sometimes, you can look younger. Especially if something comes up to remind you of your younger self." He looked down his nose at them. It was a strangely familiar gesture. "Age is a state of mind. Especially when you're dead."
Harry and Myrtle exchanged looks, but neither had a response for that.
The boy ghost laughed. "Why don't I tell you about the time Red decided to charm Old Dippet's firedogs to chase his cat?"
Harry spent the rest of his detention learning all sorts of interesting blackmail material about Albus Dumbledore.
Nerves of Pumpkin:
It was now or never, Ginny thought. It was the last Friday of October. The Gryffindor / Ravenclaw match was Sunday. Tomorrow was the first Hogsmeade trip of the term. Hallowe'en was Tuesday, so this would be the only opportunity to get a costume for the fancy dress party.
It was also her best opportunity to ask Harry to go with her. As had become usual with them, they stayed after the team practice so Ginny could get the feel of the Firebolt. She was too nervous to fly for long and soon she and Harry were headed back to the castle.
"Are you feeling all right, Ginny?" Harry asked in genuine concern.
Ginny nodded. "I'm just trying to think of what to wear for the fancy dress ball," she said. She took a deep breath.
"Oh, I thought that I'd wear those awful robes that Fred and George gave me," Harry said.
"This party is really important to me because it's my best chance of fulfilling a life-long ambition of mine," Ginny confided.
"Really?" Harry looked curious, but not wary. Obviously, it hadn't occurred to him that one of her life-long ambitions might be to jump his bones.
Ginny decided not to mention that one; instead, she went for one that he might sympathize with.
"Ever since I was a little girl," Ginny said. "I have had a burning desire…" she took a deep breath. "…To give George and Fred a heart attack."
Harry laughed. "One apiece or would just one of them collapsing suit your purposes?"
"It will have to be one apiece," Ginny said grimly.
"How can I help?" Harry asked, just as Ginny hoped he would.
"Well, you know that my brothers are all lion-hearted," Ginny explained. "It takes a lot to scare them. Frankly, anything that will scare them will likely give some of the first-years fatal heart-attacks."
"Wouldn't want that," Harry agreed.
"So I finally thought of something that I could go as that would floor my brothers, Ron included, yet not actually kill anybody."
"And that would be…?"
"Your date."
Harry gaped at her for a minute, and then a sunny smile broke out on his face. Ginny's approach was perfect, in his opinion. It was a totally non-threatening way to approach this. If he said 'yes', then she had a date for the fancy dress party. If he said 'no', then he wasn't rejecting her, he was rejecting the idea of playing a prank on the twins. Best of all, saying yes didn't mean that he was her boyfriend; it just meant that they were friends.
"Erm, yes, thank you," he said.
Ginny's eyes went wide as if she'd been expecting a 'no.'
"And I have an idea for what you can dress up as," Harry added.
"What?"
"Do you still have your white dress robes from last year?" Harry asked.
"Erm, yes, why?"
"I thought you could go as an angel."
It was Ginny's turn to gape. Then she started laughing so hard she had to lean against Harry to stay upright. She didn't see Harry's eyes go wide as he finally realized what had so startled Ron and the twins when they'd seen her in her dress robes. As he never saw her in anything but her androgynous school uniform, he hadn't realized how much little Ginny Weasley had, erm, blossomed over the summer.
Maybe he should make sure to be the first one to ask her to the Yule Ball.
Confessions of an Animagus (2)
When they got into the castle, they were met by Prof. McGonagall, Ron and Hermione.
"The Headmaster would like to speak to the four of you, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said before Harry could formulate a coherent question.
They were in trouble. Harry could sense it in the stiffness in McGonagall's shoulders. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had obviously come to the same conclusion and they were looking at him, and each other, in bewilderment.
Harry forgot his worries when he stepped into Dumbledore's office, however. Remus Lupin was there. Sitting at his feet was a large, black dog.
Harry grinned. "Remus! Snuffles!"
"Hello, Harry, Hermione, Ron," Remus said with a smile. He looked at Ginny. "Hello, Miss Weasley."
"Ginny will do, Professor Lupin," she said.
"Then you should call me Remus. I'm not a professor anymore," he added wistfully.
"Was this the dog that was going to be Harry's bodyguard during the summer?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore said. "But there is far more to this dog than meets the eye, Miss Weasley. And it's time for you to learn its secret."
The dog stood up expectantly.
"This isn't a real dog," Dumbledore said. "He is an Animagus."
"Mr. Padfoot," Ron threw in.
"One of the Marauders?" Ginny asked.
"Indeed," Remus said. "His real name is Sirius Black."
Ginny blinked at him. "You can't mean the Sirius Black who escaped from Azkaban and spent a whole school year trying to kill Harry?"
"I never tried to kill Harry," Sirius said.
Ginny stared at him slack jawed.
"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, running over to greet him. "You're here! Are you all right? Where have you been? I've been worried!"
"How many times did he breathe since he started?" Sirius asked Remus in a stage whisper. He ruffled his godson's hair affectionately and grinned faintly at the other two.
Ginny stared at them. It was a good thing nobody wanted her to speak, because she had temporarily lost command of the vocal cords.
"I've been learning how to ask questions from Hermione," Harry said, unabashed. ("Harry!" Hermione said in scandalized tones.) "It's great to see you! Both of you!"
"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry's nervousness came back in full force. "Yes, Headmaster?" he asked.
"Is there something you would like to tell me?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry couldn't think of what Dumbledore might be talking about.
Sirius cleared his throat and Harry shot him a puzzled look.
"Nicely?" Sirius prompted.
"Oh," Harry said.
"What about Nicely?" Hermione asked.
"Miss Granger, I'm very disappointed in you," McGonagall said. "You told us that The Animagus Survival Guide came from Lily Potter's trunk." McGonagall's mouth was a very tight line.
"She didn't know," Harry blurted out. "I never told her!"
"Told me what?" Hermione asked. She looked torn between hurt, bewilderment and anger.
"I got it from Sirius."
"Oh, so that was the cool birthday present that you mentioned," Ron said. "I wondered."
"You lied to me?" Hermione looked horrified.
"Well, I," Harry gave up. He couldn't think of any way to explain it. "Yes, I lied to you."
The expression of disgust in her eyes made him want to crawl under the sofa.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You… you could have cost me my prefect's badge!" shrilled Hermione. "Some friend you are! Didn't you trust me?"
Harry hung his head. "I just wanted to talk to Sirius before I told anybody where it had come from."
"You mean, you didn't want to talk about Sirius in front of me," Ginny said, recovering her voice.
Harry at least had the grace to look ashamed of himself.
"Don't you trust me?" Ginny asked.
"Harry is the one who recommended that you be informed, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said. "He is under orders to not talk about what we are doing, as it's not exactly approved of by the Ministry."
"Oh," Ginny said. "Nice to see that you can follow orders, Harry," she couldn't resist adding.
Harry winced.
"What about Neville?" Ginny asked. "He's in this as much as anybody. His parents…" she swallowed hard. "And he tackled Sirius Black." She frowned. "Does he already know?"
"I hope not," Sirius said. "I hope that my friends would at least say 'hello' as they trampled over me."
"James was always polite that way," Remus confirmed.
Harry smiled faintly.
"Mr. Longbottom hasn't been informed," Dumbledore said.
"I have a feeling he's not totally in the dark," Harry added.
"What makes you think that?" Dumbledore asked sharply.
"I dunno, something about the way he reacted when he was congratulated on tackling Sirius," Harry said with a shrug.
"I hope you weren't irresponsible enough to let him overhear you talking about me," Sirius said.
Hermione turned on him. "You have a lot of nerve talking about being irresponsible!" she snapped. "That Animagus Guide has got to be the most irresponsible bit of magic I've ever seen!"
"He's gifted that way," Remus said dryly.
"How can you be so calm about it?" Hermione demanded. "Don't you understand what that book does? It transfers knowledge directly to the brain like a Tabla Rosa curse. I've read about those. They were designed to control people by erasing their brains, like programming a Muggle computer. The Tabla Rosa actually destroys the victim's memories in order to put the new knowledge in place! Who knows what sort of damage you've done to Ron and Harry!"
Sirius flinched. "I didn't realize that Ron would be affected, to."
Remus looked at him in horror. "You deliberately put a Tabla Rosa curse in Nicely?"
Sirius nodded.
"Then why were you so surprised when Nicely transfigured me into a cat?" Harry asked.
"I didn't know she'd be able to transfigure you," Sirius explained. "I just thought that she'd plant the knowledge of how to transfigure into your brain, so you could access it."
"Sirius, please explain yourself," Dumbledore asked sternly.
"I don't think I can," Sirius said.
Harry didn't need an explanation, and he wasn't sure any would be adequate. How could you make someone as old as Dumbledore understand what it was like to be robbed of your past? How to make someone as young as Ron and Hermione understand what it was like to have no future?
He looked up at Sirius trustingly.
"I am so sorry, Harry," Sirius murmured. "I had no right to do that to you. I just didn't think."
"Don't apologize," Harry said. "We should have had a lifetime of memories behind us. We shouldn't have to resort to shortcuts like this," he said quietly. He looked at Dumbledore. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about Nicely right away, Headmaster. However, I will thank you to keep your opinion of the matter to yourself."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. Harry had a feeling the Dumbledore might understand. "I'm afraid that I'll have to give you detention, and you will not be permitted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend."
Harry made a small sound of protest.
Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon spectacles. "Yes?"
"I was hoping to get the hems of my robes fixed," Harry said unhappily.
"And he needs new glasses," Ginny said firmly.
Harry gave her a blank look. "Why?"
"Because your old ones are ugly. Besides, what if something happens to them? You need a reserve pair in case you lose them again."
Harry opened his mouth, couldn't think of any response, and closed it again.
Sirius looked smug. "I told you those glasses were ugly," he said.
"Erm, right," Harry said.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "You will go to Hogsmeade, suitably chaperoned, of course, so you may have your robes altered and so you may get new glasses. Then you will come straight back to the castle."
"Yes, Headmaster."
Dumbledore cast around for a change in subject.
Fortunately, Ginny was a built in one. She cleared her throat pointedly.
"Ah, yes, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, actually looking relieved. "I'd like to formally introduce Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Miss Ginny Weasley, of whom you've no doubt heard."
Sirius grinned at her. "Yes, Harry has mentioned you in his letters, Miss Weasley."
"All lies," Ginny said automatically. "It was all Ron's fault, anyway," she added when her first sally noticeably relaxed tensions in the room.
"I understand you're studying to become an Animagus yourself," Remus put in.
"I will be," Ginny said. "And speaking of secrets, there's one more that I should tell you all about."
The adults looked attentive and the trio looked puzzled.
"I'm a Parselmouth," Ginny declared.
"I see," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. "How long have you known this?"
"Only since I heard Harry talking to his snake rope a few months ago," Ginny said. "I mean, I knew that I'd been ordering the basilisk around when … when…"
"We know when, Ginny," McGonagall said with surprising gentleness.
Ginny managed a wry smile. "Yeah, I guess there weren't too many occasions when that happened." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry; I should have said something sooner."
"I quite understand, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said. "Something of that sort might be a bit of a shock. You should talk about it to your parents as soon as you get the chance."
"Yes, sir," Ginny said. She sighed with relief. It would be better to tell her parents this in person, rather than by owl. She was glad that Dumbledore agreed with her.
"Is there any further business?" Dumbledore said.
"What about Neville?" Ginny asked. "Are you going to let him in on this?
"And the twins," Ron added. "I still think they should be included."
Dumbledore nodded. "I will take your advice into consideration," he said. "But I will have to withhold making a decision just yet."
"Sirius, what are you using for a wand?" Harry asked.
"Something that I found in a junk shop," Sirius sighed. "I told the witch who worked there that I wanted something to power some lighting charms so my dear old grandfather wouldn't have to use candles or his wand. I rather left her with the impression I was afraid the old boy would burn the house down." He sighed. "She gave me the best two wands that she had, but they're dodgy." He bit the inside of his cheek.
"Can't you fix them?" Ginny asked.
"It's tricky," Remus said. "They should really be looked at by a professional. However, that would raise a lot of questions, because it's usually cheaper to buy a new wand instead of fixing the old one."
"I have something that's probably better," Harry said. "We found an old wand of my mum's in her trunk."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"It really was in the trunk," Harry protested the unspoken skepticism. "I owled Mr. Ollivander about it and he came to have a look. He said it would be cheaper to buy a new one, but he thinks I'm having it fixed for sentimental reasons."
Sirius looked rather stunned. "You would trust me with your mother's wand?" he asked.
Harry just looked at him.
"Thank the boy, Sirius," Remus chided.
"Thank you," Sirius said.
"We never did get an explanation as to how Mr. Potter managed to get to the Hogwarts Express," McGonagall pointed out.
Harry took a deep breath and gave a brief overview of how his August had gone. "One of the spectators was a retired Ministry solicitor," Harry said. "He took up my cause forced Fudge to let me go." Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He was convinced that I was telling the truth about Sirius being innocent."
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, that's one more on our side, and without us having to make an overt move against the Minister."
"Anybody we know?" Remus asked.
Harry looked his godfather in the eye. "Sirius, your father knows that you are innocent."
Sirius opened his mouth a few times. Then he had to go look out a window. Harry could imagine what was going through his godfather's mind. He walked over to him and also looked out the window. He didn't say anything, but he stood close enough so that his shoulder pressed against Sirius' arm.
"And now, since we don't have any further business, I suggest that we leave Harry and his godfather alone to discuss their family business." Dumbledore rose and led the way out of his office. "Would anybody care to join me in a kitchen raid?" he asked. "I hear the House-elves want somebody to test their latest pudding. It's called a Pumpkin Float."
*** Author's Notes ***
'Tell a hawk from a handsaw' yet more Shakespeare.
Witherwing: based on the novel by David Jarrett, which in turn was based on the folktale about the girl whose seven brothers were transformed into swans (or sometimes ravens). She had to weave shirts for them, usually from nettles, and she wasn't permitted to speak while she did so. She had to put the shirts on them before they were finished, so the youngest brother was stuck with a swan's wing (or raven's wing) for the rest of his life.
Boris Bad-enough: A reference to the villain in Rocky and Bullwinkle. (Which originally was a play on the novel Boris Godunov by Alexander Pushkin, which was based on a historic person… will this train of thought never derail?)
A Pumpkin Float is made by pouring Pumpkin Fizz over ice cream. In the absence of Pumpkin Fizz, try soda over pumpkin flavored ice cream. In the absence of pumpkin flavored ice cream, pour chocolate syrup over vanilla ice cream, pour in the soda water and CALL it a Pumpkin Float.
While I have your attention, I have a few predictions for Book Five. Since the book will be out in a few days, we'll see how sharp my inner eye is.
One: Winky will go bad. (I wanted to do that in this story, but I couldn't make it work in the amount of time that I had. Besides, I thought it was too similar to my Cressida Opal plotline.) You heard it hear first!
Two: The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will have a Deep, Dark Secret. (Don't they all?) I'm hoping this secret will be that he is really Sirius Black in disguise. (Unless it's a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, in which case it will be Arabella Figg.)
Three: Ron WILL wind up as Keeper for the Gryffindor House Team.
Four: Ron and Hermione will kiss.
Five: NO VOLDEMORT! He's still recuperating from coming back from the dead.
Six: Harry will talk to one or more snakes. He hasn't used that talent since Book Two and it's about time he did.
Seven: Gryffindor will take the Quidditch Cup.
Eight: Fleur + Bill.
Nine: Snape will be revealed as the spy who told Dumbledore that Voldemort was after the Potters.
Ten: I WILL LOVE THIS BOOK!
Happy Reading!
