Harry Potter and the Curse of the Gypsy
Author's Note: Thank you for reading this fan fiction. I have hit a few snags along the way, but so far it is turning out quite well and I hope that you like it. If you like this story, you may also like my Lily and James fiction titled The Pranking War, which though it starts like any other love/hate story turns out quite different. Also, if you are a fan of fantasy/sword and sorcery stories, you may like to check out my original stories on fictionpress.net, under the pen name Megx. Please READ AND REVIEW!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any character out of this story except for Cory Johnson and the plot, too. So please don't try and sue me, all I've got anyway is...well, nothing.
Chapter Ten
The Gryffindor common room was unusually silent for the next few days. Even the Weasley twins, fond of causing a ruckus with their various tricks, hadn't even ignited a single dungbomb for Filch to come scour out of the carpets. Everybody in particular felt sorry for Neville---even Lavender was caught smiling at him kindly, and Cory was much more gracious than she had been...ever.
Ron, however, was being given a wide berth. Neville, who had lately taken to accompanying Harry to most of their classes, and sitting with him and Hermione at mealtimes, had been approached a couple of times. Neville had found every bit of bravery he had left in him to refuse to talk to Ron---a fact which only served to ignite Ron's fiery temper.
"Harry," Ron hissed one night, as they were preparing for bed. "Can't you just...make people understand? I didn't mean it...you know that."
"No, I can't make them understand, because I don't understand it either. You've done some pretty stupid things Ron, but this...this is the stupidest thing you've ever done."
Ron sputtered, looking at Harry in amazement. "But, but...what would you have done if Neville had destroyed your Firebolt? I mean, you can't buy another one of those."
"I would be angry, sure. But I wouldn't have said those things. It's just not right, Ron. Neville hasn't even gotten the chance to know his parents...don't put it in his brain that it's lucky that what happened did. It's not fair." He dropped onto his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he placed his glasses on his nightstand.
"You...you're just biased because of what happened to you! You've got it easy, really. Everybody feels sorry for you, or they worship you. Like I get that. All people do is laugh at me because I'm poor." Ron sneered, sitting down on his bed. Both of them glanced over at Neville's bed, hearing a slight whimper.
"Listen," Harry hissed. "This isn't the time or the place. Why don't you just get over yourself? It isn't like I like being who I am."
"Oh, sure." Ron snorted. "You say that, but how much of it is true? I would bet..."
"Shove it, all right?" Harry murmured angrily. He reached up to pull the curtains back around the bed.
"Harry, wait..." Ron protested, holding onto the curtains. Harry jerked them back harshly, knocking Ron back a couple of feet.
"And by the way." Harry scoffed. "You're the new bloody Keeper." With that he pulled the curtains all the way back and laid back, staring at the ceiling.
'He's right, you know.' A voice murmured in your head. 'You're not doing all this to protect Neville...you're just feeling sorry for yourself.'
"And why shouldn't I?" Harry whispered out loud, feeling pain throbbing in his temples. "I've been through enough...my parents are dead, and I killed Cedric Diggory...and Ron's complaining because he's poor!"
'You killed Cedric?" the voice murmured back. Harry froze as he realized it was true...what had he just said? Was this why he had been feeling this guilt all year...why his dreams, other than the ones with the voices...was this why his dreams had been filled with...Diggory? And not the Diggory he remembered...
Harry shuddered. "It's not true." He mumbled angrily. "Voldemort killed him, not me...it wasn't my fault...it wasn't..."
'It was.' The voice chuckled. 'It was you who insisted he take the trophy with you. It was you who did it. And...didn't you want him to die, Harry?"
"No...no..." he muttered, sitting up in bed. A heavy weight was weighing on his chest. "Why...why would I have wanted Cedric to die? He was...he was...
'Perfect?' Harry shuddered. 'Yes...so it's true...he had everything you wanted, didn't he? Even the girl...Cho...because you couldn't have had her, could you have, Harry? Despite being the boy-who-lived, she still wouldn't have you...hurts, doesn't it?'
"It isn't like that." He said harshly.
'It is...it is, boy. Because you aren't so special after all, really? And you know it...and even though you say otherwise, you know you want them all to like you...you always wanted to be good, didn't you? You always wanted...'
"Stop it..."
'You always wanted the power, didn't you? Even when it was just the muggles...didn't you always want the power...to hurt them, Harry? You've always known what you could do to those that oppose you, Harry. You could have been great, in Slytherin. And it's never too late to change...why not?'
"Because, I'm not..."
'Because you know if you did, Harry, there would be no turning back. And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...he would kill you anyway, because...there is so much power, in you, and when you learn how to use it...you will be invincible...'
The voice slowly died down. Harry jolted up out of bed as he felt dampness on his forehead. He reached up...sweat, he thought to himself. Whatever it had been, it had made him uneasy. But it was just his own thoughts...right? And what kind of thoughts had they been? Not the kind of thoughts Harry would ever have had...
He shook himself. Of course...Ron had just gotten him worked up, damn him. He couldn't go on like this...it was getting to be too much. He hadn't even had a full night's worth of sleep in months. He had hoped, with the next day being a Hogsmeade weekend, he could sleep in...but now that didn't seem to be the case.
Sighing, he lowered his hand from his forehead. And cried out when he saw what was on his palm.
Blood.
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"Lucky the boys got him down here so Poppy could look at him right away..."
"You're sure he isn't bleeding, Albus? They found it all over him...all over the bed."
"No, it isn't him...but I don't know how safe he is in the dormitory, anymore. I should have said it at the beginning of the year, but I was reluctant to...his friends...I couldn't deprive him of his friends."
"But if we don't do something soon, there's no knowing what could happen. He isn't safe anywhere. I don't know what we can do."
Harry opened his eyes with a start and looked at the blurry figures moving about the infirmary. His skin felt cold and clammy, and his heart was racing in his chest. Blindly he reached out for the table at his bedside--- thankfully, somebody had remembered his glasses. He slipped them on, though his hands were shaking, and looked about him.
Dumbledore was standing, a harsh and weary look on his face that betrayed his ancient years. McGonagall stood next to him, engaged deeply in conversation. Neither had noticed Harry awake. Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse who, to Harry's woe, had had Harry under her care countless times over the four years he had been in school, bustled about, preparing things in the room.
To his surprise, Ron and Neville were also there...together, but sitting far apart from one another, Ron gazing anxiously at Neville, Neville sneaking peeks at Ron that betrayed his apprehension.
'Why am I here...again?' he thought. His mind was working slowly, and he could barely remember...the sweat on his forehead...which hadn't turned out to be sweat at all...
"Dumbledore!" he sat up all of a sudden, gasping. Everybody turned to him at the same time, all with the same fretful looks on their faces. "I...over my bed, there was...blood everywhere...I couldn't...the voice..."
Dumbledore paced over quickly and pressed Harry down with a hand on his shoulder. "Easy now, Harry." Dumbledore said cautiously. "You're fine now...we saw the blood, and Filch is investigating it's source. As I have kindly been informing Professor McGonagall, it is quite clear you were not bleeding, so..."
"No...you don't understand." Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the image away. It wouldn't go, and hovered at the edge of his thoughts. "It...it wasn't just blood. It was awful...and it was right there. I don't know what they're going to do, but...I just can't help feeling that it's going to happen soon."
"What, Harry? What was it?" Dumbledore watched Harry, his eyes burning with fire.
"It was the dark mark, professor. In blood. I don't know...there was a voice, talking to me, before. It was saying that I had great power...and that if I had become Slytherin, I would have been able to use it. And it said...it told me I wanted to kill Cedric...that I must have known, and that's why I made him take the cup..."
"Nonsense." Dumbledore snorted. "Don't you believe a word of that drivel, Harry. Somebody in this school is trying to frighten you. You know very well that there is something after you this year, Harry. And none of us know who...or what...it is. All I know is that it's dangerous."
"Yes...yes, professor. But...what can I do? This isn't the first time somebody's gotten in like that...even Sirius..."
"Don't think about Sirius." McGonagall interjected. "No use to think of such horrific things tonight. He's nowhere around here...you won't be catching wind of him anytime soon."
'Sure,' Harry thought smugly, despite the situation. 'At least not until tomorrow, when I visit him in Hogsm...'
Dumbledore seemed to know where Harry's thoughts had turned and frowned. "Harry, I know you will be disappointed, but I fear I cannot allow you to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Nor can I allow you to stay in the dormitories any longer. A special room will be prepared...I hope you can understand that this is for the best."
"I..." Harry began to protest but stopped when he saw the looks in everybody's faces. "All right." He said dejectedly. "That's fine."
"Also," Dumbledore restated, "There will be absolutely nobody...student or professor...who will know where the room is, besides myself. I know the location already...it is undetectable by map," he said. Harry blushed, remembering the Marauder's Map. "And likewise it is impervious to entry by ghost, house-elf, or the like. So you will have to do your own cleaning, I am afraid." He chuckled at his own joke.
"But...what if somebody were to see me leaving the room? Then they would know where it was?"
"Not quite...you can enter through any door in the castle, with the correct password or charm, and when you exit, you shall be lead directly to the entryway of the great hall. I will explain the details later, when you are rested and the room is prepared. Until then, you will be staying here under Madam Pomfrey's supervision. And remember...you are to tell nobody the incantation, or how to get to the room...understood?"
Harry nodded miserably. "Yes. I understand." He sighed. 'I understand that from now on I'll be miserable and alone.'
"Harry, of course you realize that you are free to come and go from the Gryffindor tower as you please...you simply will not be spending your nights there." Dumbledore said hastily, seeing the look on Harry's face.
"Yes...all right, I know. I think...I think I'd like to try and get a little sleep now, if you don't mind. I'm tired..."
"Yes, yes." Though he looked worried, he nodded. "Harry, I hope you do not worry overmuch. Be cautious, but don't let fear rule your life. You must understand...things will turn out better than they seem."
'I wish.' He thought miserably. He waved to Neville and Ron absentmindedly as McGonagall ushered them out of the door. Though they maintained a far distance, they were ignoring one another quite skillfully. When everybody had gone, except the nurse, who was in her office in the far back corner with the flickering of a light creeping out of the door, he laid back down, taking his glasses back off and closing his eyes.
He didn't know what was going on. He didn't want to know. He only wanted it all to be over.
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Harry sat in the library, staring blankly at the book in front of him. He hadn't wanted to study, but he needed his quiet...and with all of the first and second years holed up, wishing they were at Hogsmeades, and all the others at Hogsmeade without him, the library was the only place he could find any peace and quiet. And that was the one thing that he needed more than anything else.
He retraced a couple of paragraphs, but couldn't concentrate on the words. His mind was elsewhere. After realizing he had been repeating the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes, he sighed, slamming the book shut. This was getting him nowhere. He glanced back down at his watch---five after two. They wouldn't be getting back for hours, and he had nothing to do, except wait the day.
After a long moment of debate, he decided to visit Hagrid. But then the warning that Dumbledore had given him that morning came to his mind---don't leave the castle alone, for any reason.
Sighing, he leaned back, closing his eyes. Perhaps Professor Figg had some odd chore for him to do...it wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but there was nothing to do, and doing nothing was making him think of things...that he would rather be left alone.
Shrugging the stiffness out of his shoulders, he handed the book to the librarian and began slowly shuffling down the hall, his eyes on the floor. He wasn't watching where he was going and bumped into the last person he wanted to see---Professor Snape.
He glanced up, moaning inwardly when he saw Snape. "Erm...sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going...I didn't mean..."
"Stop your rambling, Potter, and help me pick up these herbs."
"What?" he glanced down, realizing that he had knocked several bags filled with various leaves and crushed flowers out of Snape's hands. "Oh..." He knelt and awkwardly began pushing them all carefully back into their containers, making sure he didn't mix any...he wasn't in the mood to be yelled at.
"I'll take these." Snape said coldly when Harry bent back up, holding them out. He snatched them up, and raked his gaze over Harry. Harry figured he must have looked awful---for a brief moment even Snape almost seemed to feel sorry for him. "Well," he snapped, "go along. I've got to see the new History of Magic professor about something."
"What? Binns won't be teaching the class anymore?"
"No." Snape sniped. "After finally realizing he was, in fact, deceased, he finally passed on to the other side. As a result, we have had to employ a new teacher. Anything else?" Harry contained himself and said nothing, only muttered "Oh," as he walked away, making sure he was out of Snape's range of vision before he rolled his eyes.
After a moment he came to Figg's office. Her door was open and Harry didn't hesitate to glance in. She was reclined back in her chair, snoring soundly. Harry had just started to turn when she called out.
"I see you. I've just been having a little nap, that's all." He turned back around as she got up out of her chair, rubbing the back of her neck. "It's exhausting, all that's going on. I helped Albus pick out a new professor...you've heard about that, haven't you?" Harry nodded quickly. She grinned.
"Well, of course you have. Word gets around. And then there's the Chimera...she isn't as peaceful a creature as Hagrid would like the believe. She's already scorched two Hufflepuffs." She snorted. "But I say let him be...the Chimera has never been known to kill...intentionally, that is."
"Yeah...well..." Harry muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know it's kind of a stupid question but...Dumbledore doesn't want me going outside the castle alone, and I kind of wanted to visit Hagrid...do you mind?"
She looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling. "All right. Of course Harry. Wait a moment...I had a book of illustrations of different dragons Hagrid wanted to borrow."
"Erm...alright." She located the book---a large tome covered in scales--- and tucked it neatly under an arm. "Shall we go?"
"Fine." They started off. She was chatting cheerfully...Harry was thinking darkly to himself how stupid he would look if any of the Slytherins found out he was being escorted to Hagrid's hut---probably they'd say he was too afraid to go around by himself. He was only glad that the story of the night before hadn't gotten out...no doubt they'd think him crazy if they found out he was hearing voices and the dark mark was found, written in blood, above his bed.
Finally they arrived. She rapped lightly on the door. Hagrid swung the door open---he was wearing his hairy brown suit again, and he appeared to have tried once more to tame his mounds of bushy hair. Harry moaned.
" 'Ello, 'Arry. Good ter see yeh...I was expectin' somebody, but she idn't due fer awhile yet, so come on in...come in. You too, 'Bella? What a nice surprise. Yeh got that book, eh? Wonderful." He ushered them in quickly. Professor Figg sat down at the large table, staring in disdain at the large pile of hard cakes Hagrid had piled on the table.
"Take one...made 'em special, I did." Harry felt his stomach churn. Professor Figg smiled.
"Of course, we'd both love one." Hagrid beamed. Suddenly they heard a noise from outside and he turned. In that moment Professor Figg leaned forward and did some sort of charm on the cakes. She had replaced her wand when Hagrid turned back.
"Probably a cat...Crookshanks, yer friend 'Miones. Well, gonna have a cake? I've got tea brewin'."
Professor Figg smiled as Hagrid placed the cakes on two separate plates and gave each person one.
Harry looked at his in trepidation and reluctantly bit into it at her urging smile. To his surprise, it wasn't hard at all and it tasted distinctly like banana nut bread.
"Do yeh' like em?" Hagrid asked. Both Harry and the professor nodded. He looked quite pleased, to Harry's relief. After a long conversation they had become engaged in a knock came at the door. Hagrid turned bright red. "That would be my guest." He muttered as he answered.
Harry refrained from gasping when he saw her. Madame Maxime...somehow bigger than he remembered her. She kissed Hagrid on both cheeks and smiled.
"'Ello, my sweet. Zis is such a pleasure, zeeing you again." She turned to the guests. "Zis of course ees 'Arry, and who may this be?"
"New professor, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Arabella Figg." Professor Figg smiled and extended her hand.
"Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Madame Maxime smiled.
It was to everybody's dismay that she chose this moment to turn around. With a horrendous screech she fell to the floor. The entire cabin shook--- the table, on which she had fallen, splintered in two. Harry glanced quickly at the door.
"Oh, great." Sirius muttered. "Where did she come from?"
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Hello, you wonderful people! Thank you for reading. What a chapter, eh? And a cliffie, too...what an evil person I am. I hope you like this, and come back and read more.
By the way, please read my other stuff at fictionpress.com, and my things here at fanfiction.com, all under the penname Megx. If you do, please READ and REVIEW!
I want to know what you think! LOL!
So....push that lovely purple button, okay...it's right here...
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading this fan fiction. I have hit a few snags along the way, but so far it is turning out quite well and I hope that you like it. If you like this story, you may also like my Lily and James fiction titled The Pranking War, which though it starts like any other love/hate story turns out quite different. Also, if you are a fan of fantasy/sword and sorcery stories, you may like to check out my original stories on fictionpress.net, under the pen name Megx. Please READ AND REVIEW!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any character out of this story except for Cory Johnson and the plot, too. So please don't try and sue me, all I've got anyway is...well, nothing.
Chapter Ten
The Gryffindor common room was unusually silent for the next few days. Even the Weasley twins, fond of causing a ruckus with their various tricks, hadn't even ignited a single dungbomb for Filch to come scour out of the carpets. Everybody in particular felt sorry for Neville---even Lavender was caught smiling at him kindly, and Cory was much more gracious than she had been...ever.
Ron, however, was being given a wide berth. Neville, who had lately taken to accompanying Harry to most of their classes, and sitting with him and Hermione at mealtimes, had been approached a couple of times. Neville had found every bit of bravery he had left in him to refuse to talk to Ron---a fact which only served to ignite Ron's fiery temper.
"Harry," Ron hissed one night, as they were preparing for bed. "Can't you just...make people understand? I didn't mean it...you know that."
"No, I can't make them understand, because I don't understand it either. You've done some pretty stupid things Ron, but this...this is the stupidest thing you've ever done."
Ron sputtered, looking at Harry in amazement. "But, but...what would you have done if Neville had destroyed your Firebolt? I mean, you can't buy another one of those."
"I would be angry, sure. But I wouldn't have said those things. It's just not right, Ron. Neville hasn't even gotten the chance to know his parents...don't put it in his brain that it's lucky that what happened did. It's not fair." He dropped onto his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he placed his glasses on his nightstand.
"You...you're just biased because of what happened to you! You've got it easy, really. Everybody feels sorry for you, or they worship you. Like I get that. All people do is laugh at me because I'm poor." Ron sneered, sitting down on his bed. Both of them glanced over at Neville's bed, hearing a slight whimper.
"Listen," Harry hissed. "This isn't the time or the place. Why don't you just get over yourself? It isn't like I like being who I am."
"Oh, sure." Ron snorted. "You say that, but how much of it is true? I would bet..."
"Shove it, all right?" Harry murmured angrily. He reached up to pull the curtains back around the bed.
"Harry, wait..." Ron protested, holding onto the curtains. Harry jerked them back harshly, knocking Ron back a couple of feet.
"And by the way." Harry scoffed. "You're the new bloody Keeper." With that he pulled the curtains all the way back and laid back, staring at the ceiling.
'He's right, you know.' A voice murmured in your head. 'You're not doing all this to protect Neville...you're just feeling sorry for yourself.'
"And why shouldn't I?" Harry whispered out loud, feeling pain throbbing in his temples. "I've been through enough...my parents are dead, and I killed Cedric Diggory...and Ron's complaining because he's poor!"
'You killed Cedric?" the voice murmured back. Harry froze as he realized it was true...what had he just said? Was this why he had been feeling this guilt all year...why his dreams, other than the ones with the voices...was this why his dreams had been filled with...Diggory? And not the Diggory he remembered...
Harry shuddered. "It's not true." He mumbled angrily. "Voldemort killed him, not me...it wasn't my fault...it wasn't..."
'It was.' The voice chuckled. 'It was you who insisted he take the trophy with you. It was you who did it. And...didn't you want him to die, Harry?"
"No...no..." he muttered, sitting up in bed. A heavy weight was weighing on his chest. "Why...why would I have wanted Cedric to die? He was...he was...
'Perfect?' Harry shuddered. 'Yes...so it's true...he had everything you wanted, didn't he? Even the girl...Cho...because you couldn't have had her, could you have, Harry? Despite being the boy-who-lived, she still wouldn't have you...hurts, doesn't it?'
"It isn't like that." He said harshly.
'It is...it is, boy. Because you aren't so special after all, really? And you know it...and even though you say otherwise, you know you want them all to like you...you always wanted to be good, didn't you? You always wanted...'
"Stop it..."
'You always wanted the power, didn't you? Even when it was just the muggles...didn't you always want the power...to hurt them, Harry? You've always known what you could do to those that oppose you, Harry. You could have been great, in Slytherin. And it's never too late to change...why not?'
"Because, I'm not..."
'Because you know if you did, Harry, there would be no turning back. And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...he would kill you anyway, because...there is so much power, in you, and when you learn how to use it...you will be invincible...'
The voice slowly died down. Harry jolted up out of bed as he felt dampness on his forehead. He reached up...sweat, he thought to himself. Whatever it had been, it had made him uneasy. But it was just his own thoughts...right? And what kind of thoughts had they been? Not the kind of thoughts Harry would ever have had...
He shook himself. Of course...Ron had just gotten him worked up, damn him. He couldn't go on like this...it was getting to be too much. He hadn't even had a full night's worth of sleep in months. He had hoped, with the next day being a Hogsmeade weekend, he could sleep in...but now that didn't seem to be the case.
Sighing, he lowered his hand from his forehead. And cried out when he saw what was on his palm.
Blood.
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"Lucky the boys got him down here so Poppy could look at him right away..."
"You're sure he isn't bleeding, Albus? They found it all over him...all over the bed."
"No, it isn't him...but I don't know how safe he is in the dormitory, anymore. I should have said it at the beginning of the year, but I was reluctant to...his friends...I couldn't deprive him of his friends."
"But if we don't do something soon, there's no knowing what could happen. He isn't safe anywhere. I don't know what we can do."
Harry opened his eyes with a start and looked at the blurry figures moving about the infirmary. His skin felt cold and clammy, and his heart was racing in his chest. Blindly he reached out for the table at his bedside--- thankfully, somebody had remembered his glasses. He slipped them on, though his hands were shaking, and looked about him.
Dumbledore was standing, a harsh and weary look on his face that betrayed his ancient years. McGonagall stood next to him, engaged deeply in conversation. Neither had noticed Harry awake. Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse who, to Harry's woe, had had Harry under her care countless times over the four years he had been in school, bustled about, preparing things in the room.
To his surprise, Ron and Neville were also there...together, but sitting far apart from one another, Ron gazing anxiously at Neville, Neville sneaking peeks at Ron that betrayed his apprehension.
'Why am I here...again?' he thought. His mind was working slowly, and he could barely remember...the sweat on his forehead...which hadn't turned out to be sweat at all...
"Dumbledore!" he sat up all of a sudden, gasping. Everybody turned to him at the same time, all with the same fretful looks on their faces. "I...over my bed, there was...blood everywhere...I couldn't...the voice..."
Dumbledore paced over quickly and pressed Harry down with a hand on his shoulder. "Easy now, Harry." Dumbledore said cautiously. "You're fine now...we saw the blood, and Filch is investigating it's source. As I have kindly been informing Professor McGonagall, it is quite clear you were not bleeding, so..."
"No...you don't understand." Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the image away. It wouldn't go, and hovered at the edge of his thoughts. "It...it wasn't just blood. It was awful...and it was right there. I don't know what they're going to do, but...I just can't help feeling that it's going to happen soon."
"What, Harry? What was it?" Dumbledore watched Harry, his eyes burning with fire.
"It was the dark mark, professor. In blood. I don't know...there was a voice, talking to me, before. It was saying that I had great power...and that if I had become Slytherin, I would have been able to use it. And it said...it told me I wanted to kill Cedric...that I must have known, and that's why I made him take the cup..."
"Nonsense." Dumbledore snorted. "Don't you believe a word of that drivel, Harry. Somebody in this school is trying to frighten you. You know very well that there is something after you this year, Harry. And none of us know who...or what...it is. All I know is that it's dangerous."
"Yes...yes, professor. But...what can I do? This isn't the first time somebody's gotten in like that...even Sirius..."
"Don't think about Sirius." McGonagall interjected. "No use to think of such horrific things tonight. He's nowhere around here...you won't be catching wind of him anytime soon."
'Sure,' Harry thought smugly, despite the situation. 'At least not until tomorrow, when I visit him in Hogsm...'
Dumbledore seemed to know where Harry's thoughts had turned and frowned. "Harry, I know you will be disappointed, but I fear I cannot allow you to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Nor can I allow you to stay in the dormitories any longer. A special room will be prepared...I hope you can understand that this is for the best."
"I..." Harry began to protest but stopped when he saw the looks in everybody's faces. "All right." He said dejectedly. "That's fine."
"Also," Dumbledore restated, "There will be absolutely nobody...student or professor...who will know where the room is, besides myself. I know the location already...it is undetectable by map," he said. Harry blushed, remembering the Marauder's Map. "And likewise it is impervious to entry by ghost, house-elf, or the like. So you will have to do your own cleaning, I am afraid." He chuckled at his own joke.
"But...what if somebody were to see me leaving the room? Then they would know where it was?"
"Not quite...you can enter through any door in the castle, with the correct password or charm, and when you exit, you shall be lead directly to the entryway of the great hall. I will explain the details later, when you are rested and the room is prepared. Until then, you will be staying here under Madam Pomfrey's supervision. And remember...you are to tell nobody the incantation, or how to get to the room...understood?"
Harry nodded miserably. "Yes. I understand." He sighed. 'I understand that from now on I'll be miserable and alone.'
"Harry, of course you realize that you are free to come and go from the Gryffindor tower as you please...you simply will not be spending your nights there." Dumbledore said hastily, seeing the look on Harry's face.
"Yes...all right, I know. I think...I think I'd like to try and get a little sleep now, if you don't mind. I'm tired..."
"Yes, yes." Though he looked worried, he nodded. "Harry, I hope you do not worry overmuch. Be cautious, but don't let fear rule your life. You must understand...things will turn out better than they seem."
'I wish.' He thought miserably. He waved to Neville and Ron absentmindedly as McGonagall ushered them out of the door. Though they maintained a far distance, they were ignoring one another quite skillfully. When everybody had gone, except the nurse, who was in her office in the far back corner with the flickering of a light creeping out of the door, he laid back down, taking his glasses back off and closing his eyes.
He didn't know what was going on. He didn't want to know. He only wanted it all to be over.
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Harry sat in the library, staring blankly at the book in front of him. He hadn't wanted to study, but he needed his quiet...and with all of the first and second years holed up, wishing they were at Hogsmeades, and all the others at Hogsmeade without him, the library was the only place he could find any peace and quiet. And that was the one thing that he needed more than anything else.
He retraced a couple of paragraphs, but couldn't concentrate on the words. His mind was elsewhere. After realizing he had been repeating the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes, he sighed, slamming the book shut. This was getting him nowhere. He glanced back down at his watch---five after two. They wouldn't be getting back for hours, and he had nothing to do, except wait the day.
After a long moment of debate, he decided to visit Hagrid. But then the warning that Dumbledore had given him that morning came to his mind---don't leave the castle alone, for any reason.
Sighing, he leaned back, closing his eyes. Perhaps Professor Figg had some odd chore for him to do...it wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but there was nothing to do, and doing nothing was making him think of things...that he would rather be left alone.
Shrugging the stiffness out of his shoulders, he handed the book to the librarian and began slowly shuffling down the hall, his eyes on the floor. He wasn't watching where he was going and bumped into the last person he wanted to see---Professor Snape.
He glanced up, moaning inwardly when he saw Snape. "Erm...sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going...I didn't mean..."
"Stop your rambling, Potter, and help me pick up these herbs."
"What?" he glanced down, realizing that he had knocked several bags filled with various leaves and crushed flowers out of Snape's hands. "Oh..." He knelt and awkwardly began pushing them all carefully back into their containers, making sure he didn't mix any...he wasn't in the mood to be yelled at.
"I'll take these." Snape said coldly when Harry bent back up, holding them out. He snatched them up, and raked his gaze over Harry. Harry figured he must have looked awful---for a brief moment even Snape almost seemed to feel sorry for him. "Well," he snapped, "go along. I've got to see the new History of Magic professor about something."
"What? Binns won't be teaching the class anymore?"
"No." Snape sniped. "After finally realizing he was, in fact, deceased, he finally passed on to the other side. As a result, we have had to employ a new teacher. Anything else?" Harry contained himself and said nothing, only muttered "Oh," as he walked away, making sure he was out of Snape's range of vision before he rolled his eyes.
After a moment he came to Figg's office. Her door was open and Harry didn't hesitate to glance in. She was reclined back in her chair, snoring soundly. Harry had just started to turn when she called out.
"I see you. I've just been having a little nap, that's all." He turned back around as she got up out of her chair, rubbing the back of her neck. "It's exhausting, all that's going on. I helped Albus pick out a new professor...you've heard about that, haven't you?" Harry nodded quickly. She grinned.
"Well, of course you have. Word gets around. And then there's the Chimera...she isn't as peaceful a creature as Hagrid would like the believe. She's already scorched two Hufflepuffs." She snorted. "But I say let him be...the Chimera has never been known to kill...intentionally, that is."
"Yeah...well..." Harry muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know it's kind of a stupid question but...Dumbledore doesn't want me going outside the castle alone, and I kind of wanted to visit Hagrid...do you mind?"
She looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling. "All right. Of course Harry. Wait a moment...I had a book of illustrations of different dragons Hagrid wanted to borrow."
"Erm...alright." She located the book---a large tome covered in scales--- and tucked it neatly under an arm. "Shall we go?"
"Fine." They started off. She was chatting cheerfully...Harry was thinking darkly to himself how stupid he would look if any of the Slytherins found out he was being escorted to Hagrid's hut---probably they'd say he was too afraid to go around by himself. He was only glad that the story of the night before hadn't gotten out...no doubt they'd think him crazy if they found out he was hearing voices and the dark mark was found, written in blood, above his bed.
Finally they arrived. She rapped lightly on the door. Hagrid swung the door open---he was wearing his hairy brown suit again, and he appeared to have tried once more to tame his mounds of bushy hair. Harry moaned.
" 'Ello, 'Arry. Good ter see yeh...I was expectin' somebody, but she idn't due fer awhile yet, so come on in...come in. You too, 'Bella? What a nice surprise. Yeh got that book, eh? Wonderful." He ushered them in quickly. Professor Figg sat down at the large table, staring in disdain at the large pile of hard cakes Hagrid had piled on the table.
"Take one...made 'em special, I did." Harry felt his stomach churn. Professor Figg smiled.
"Of course, we'd both love one." Hagrid beamed. Suddenly they heard a noise from outside and he turned. In that moment Professor Figg leaned forward and did some sort of charm on the cakes. She had replaced her wand when Hagrid turned back.
"Probably a cat...Crookshanks, yer friend 'Miones. Well, gonna have a cake? I've got tea brewin'."
Professor Figg smiled as Hagrid placed the cakes on two separate plates and gave each person one.
Harry looked at his in trepidation and reluctantly bit into it at her urging smile. To his surprise, it wasn't hard at all and it tasted distinctly like banana nut bread.
"Do yeh' like em?" Hagrid asked. Both Harry and the professor nodded. He looked quite pleased, to Harry's relief. After a long conversation they had become engaged in a knock came at the door. Hagrid turned bright red. "That would be my guest." He muttered as he answered.
Harry refrained from gasping when he saw her. Madame Maxime...somehow bigger than he remembered her. She kissed Hagrid on both cheeks and smiled.
"'Ello, my sweet. Zis is such a pleasure, zeeing you again." She turned to the guests. "Zis of course ees 'Arry, and who may this be?"
"New professor, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Arabella Figg." Professor Figg smiled and extended her hand.
"Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Madame Maxime smiled.
It was to everybody's dismay that she chose this moment to turn around. With a horrendous screech she fell to the floor. The entire cabin shook--- the table, on which she had fallen, splintered in two. Harry glanced quickly at the door.
"Oh, great." Sirius muttered. "Where did she come from?"
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Hello, you wonderful people! Thank you for reading. What a chapter, eh? And a cliffie, too...what an evil person I am. I hope you like this, and come back and read more.
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