A Glimpse Into You
PG-13
Kali Kato
Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts brings new mysteries, relationships, fights... and an even greater appreciation for those who love him.
P
WARNING: This fic contains genuine Book 5 (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix SPOILERS. I suggest you hold off from reading this fanfic until you read J.K. Rowling's masterpiece.
P
"Professor!" Harry said as he stood, rather flustered.
P
Mrs. Figg continued to zoom around the room, her grayed hair falling from her tidy bun and her legs flailing in every direction.
P
The cat, who Harry knew was his Transfiguration teacher, Minerva McGonagall, had hissed at Figg when she almost stepped on her tail. Harry watched as the fur on the cat began to melt away and the whole body form began to grow into the tall, slim form of McGonagall. The cat's black stripes melted into her dark robes and and her pale skin came into the light of Figg's dusty lamps. Harry suddenly realized how very cool it would be to become an Animagus.
P
Fully formed, McGonagall stared past Harry and at Figg, who did not cease her cries even after spotting the fully formed Professor. McGonagall glanced at Harry, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her roll her eyes at him.
P
"Arabella---" McGonagall began, her lips twitching.
P
"Die, we're going to die!" Cried Figg.
P
"Arabella, please," McGonagall tried reasoning again.
P
"My word, where are my cats? Goodness gracious!"
P
"Stop that, calm yourself, sit---"
P
Harry could tell McGonagall was starting to become a little more than annoyed at Figg's antics. Harry tried not to grin at the whole situation--- he was, afterall, rather glad to see someone from the magic world besides a squib.
P
"Harry," Figg cried as she grabbed her waistcoat and threw it on (inside out, of course), "You must get out and save yourself and---"
P
This time McGonagall did not allow Mrs. Figg to finish. She simply marched over to the older woman, clutched her shoulders, and stared at her in a way that made Harry cringe--- he had seen that look many times before when she gave him detention or took away House points.
P
"Arabella Figg, if you do not sit down and calm yourself I will be forced to do it for you," And Harry suddenly noticed the glint of McGonagall's cherry wand tucked into her belt. Figg looked at McGonagall for a moment, and if she couldn't make up her mind, Harry was sure McGonagall was ready to pounce. Thankfully, Figg's shoulders slumped and she looked at her feet, slippers and all.
P
"Good," McGonagall sighed and let go of Figg's shoulders, "Now," she said turning to Harry.
P
A lightbulb suddenly went off in Harry's mind. Why, exactly, was his teacher here?
P
"Potter, please have a seat and close your mouth," She said with a cheeky smile that Harry had never seen before.
P
Figg, her eyes dark and afraid, headed toward the kitchen. "I suppose you'll be wanting some tea," she mumbled.
P
"That would be lovely," McGonagall said as she took a seat in the torn blue chair across from Harry. Her face remained statue-like until Figg had completely disappeared behind the curtain. She then reached into her robe and took out a folded parchemnt. She opened it and placed it on the table before her.
P
"Potter, this is a decree from the Misistry of Magic written under the supervision of the Order of Merlin requested by Albus Dumbledore, third class," She said, her eyes bright. "As you are very well aware of, given your antics in the past, that the use of underage magic is prohibited by any wizard under the age of seventeen is not tolerated among any wizarding district---"
P
"Lemon, dear?" Figg asked, her head peeking around the curtain.
P
McGonagall's lips tightened at this intrusion, but she reamained calm. "No. Thank you."
P
"Got it," Figg said and disappeared again.
P
McGonagall adjusted her square glasses and Harry sat up, wondering what she wanted with him and some decree. "Mr. Potter it is no secret that your life has been and will now be in danger every moment you live, I'm sad to say. So, Albus requested that you recieve a pardon to use magic outside of Hogwarts at any time you feel your life is threatened."
P
Harry was surprised at this. It had always seemed to Harry that wizards did not tolerate such things, even law changes, especially for one lone half-blood like himself.
P
"Why?" Asked Harry, "Did the wizarding world agree?"
P
McGonagall's brow crinkled. "Well, I believe it's simply your fame, Potter. You are the one who ruined and defied... He-who-shall-not-be-named, countless times. It is understandable that they will give you some leverage. You have one year to go before you are seventeen and you will be living outside of Hogwarts... you must protect yourself under these terrible circumstances. Your headmaster can be very convincing." She said, letting a faint smile cross her lips.
P
"So," Harry started, "If I saw a Dementor at this very moment I could cast my Patronus and not worry about backlash at all?"
P
"That's right," McGonagall said with a nod, "But, I believe if we indeed saw a Dementor that I could take care of it for you. You will be allowed to use magic within reason, Potter. If you have someone, like myself, in your presence outside of Hogwarts then there is no need for your haste to use magic."
P
Harry found this to be very interesting, and was reminded immediately of The Order. They were, afterall, his guardians... even McGonagall. Before he could ask another question, Figg stumbled out from behind the curtain, a round jar of tea in her grasp. She handed it off to McGonagall who looked absolutely disguested with Figg's taste in cups.
P
"Would you mind, Arabella. I need to speak with Mr. Potter more. Alone." She said to Mrs. Figg with a curved tongue, her voice hard and delibrate.
P
"Right," Figg said, "I'll just go tend to my cats." She walked away and out the front door, leaving Harry alone with his teacher, who wiped the brim of the jar with her sleeve. It seemed cat hair stuck to her robes and McGonagall rolled her eyes, "That woman!" She growled. She then quickly whisked her wand from her robes and tapped the jar, which transfigured into a lovely teacup. McGonagall also pointed her wand at Harry's jar of tea, which transfigured into a mug. "How can you tolerate that old bat, Potter?" Harry wondered if he should actually answer her, but decided not to. Harry took a small sip of the tea, and found that it tasted like.... ragweed. Why was there a potion ingrident in his tea? Harry guessed Figg really was crazy. McGonagall inclined her head toward the door, checking for Figg, before moving across the room to the open window. She shut it. Turning to Harry, her face was straight and tight.
P
"I am not solely here to deliver a decree, we could have used an owl for that."
P
Harry raised his brow. What was up?
P
"I am here by decision of The Order. I am your escort, Potter."
P
"For what?" Harry asked, standing.
P
"I am taking you someplace for your protection," She said.
P
"The Burrow?" Harry asked, excited. The thought of seeing the Weasley's brightened his face.
P
"Hardly," McGonagall said.
P
"Grimmuald Place?" Harry wondered outloud.
P
"No." She said softly. "Why don't you sit down," she suggested. Perhaps, Harry wondered, that McGonagall thought that Grimmuald Place was too strong a subject for Harry. He wished both worlds, muggle and wizard alike, would stop treating him like a child.
P
"Where then?" Harry asked again, his voice demanding. Perhaps too demanding.
P
"You shall see in due time," She said, staring at him with a look Harry recognized as worry, "Do you feel alright, Potter?"
P
"Uh--- yeah," Harry said, but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt a small jolt in his stomach. He gulped and looked down at the maroon rug.
P
McGonagall suddenly bit her lower lip, and crossed her arms in front of her, "Please sit down, Harry."
P
Harry was taken aback. In the six years he had known Professor McGonagall, she had never directly called him by his first name. Harry suddenly felt inclined to sit. Upon sitting he realized his face felt hot, and his hands were sweaty. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, and he found his vision was blurry. Much worse than normal. He left his glasses off and tried to focus on the form of McGonagall, who blurred terribly as she turned toward the window. What was wrong with him? Had she hexed him? Why would any of The Order hex him? He groaned slightly as he felt another rumble in his stomach. His vision, which distorted every object in the room, was now dark and grey. What was wrong with him?
P
"Professor," Harry tried, "What's.. going....on?" He found his speech was slurred.
P
But, Harry never heard her answer. He slumped forward and felt his mind go somewhere far off. He felt like he was slowly falling alseep. Like he was watching his mind close. Somewhere, very far off, he heard voices.
P
"How much did you give him?" The voice of McGonagall pierced his ears blindly.
P
"Essence of ragweed, mixed with hartrex powder. Quite a simple tonic, really."
p
Harry, somehow, noted that voice was a man's. A very familiar man's. The voice was harsh and decisive with little sympathy... no, Harry realized, there was no sympathy in this man's voice. Harry registered that it was the voice of Severus Snape. As Harry felt his mind close and simply wander, he heard one last thing:
P
"Did it work?" Figg asked.
P
Darkness. All Harry felt was darkness.
PG-13
Kali Kato
Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts brings new mysteries, relationships, fights... and an even greater appreciation for those who love him.
P
WARNING: This fic contains genuine Book 5 (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix SPOILERS. I suggest you hold off from reading this fanfic until you read J.K. Rowling's masterpiece.
P
"Professor!" Harry said as he stood, rather flustered.
P
Mrs. Figg continued to zoom around the room, her grayed hair falling from her tidy bun and her legs flailing in every direction.
P
The cat, who Harry knew was his Transfiguration teacher, Minerva McGonagall, had hissed at Figg when she almost stepped on her tail. Harry watched as the fur on the cat began to melt away and the whole body form began to grow into the tall, slim form of McGonagall. The cat's black stripes melted into her dark robes and and her pale skin came into the light of Figg's dusty lamps. Harry suddenly realized how very cool it would be to become an Animagus.
P
Fully formed, McGonagall stared past Harry and at Figg, who did not cease her cries even after spotting the fully formed Professor. McGonagall glanced at Harry, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her roll her eyes at him.
P
"Arabella---" McGonagall began, her lips twitching.
P
"Die, we're going to die!" Cried Figg.
P
"Arabella, please," McGonagall tried reasoning again.
P
"My word, where are my cats? Goodness gracious!"
P
"Stop that, calm yourself, sit---"
P
Harry could tell McGonagall was starting to become a little more than annoyed at Figg's antics. Harry tried not to grin at the whole situation--- he was, afterall, rather glad to see someone from the magic world besides a squib.
P
"Harry," Figg cried as she grabbed her waistcoat and threw it on (inside out, of course), "You must get out and save yourself and---"
P
This time McGonagall did not allow Mrs. Figg to finish. She simply marched over to the older woman, clutched her shoulders, and stared at her in a way that made Harry cringe--- he had seen that look many times before when she gave him detention or took away House points.
P
"Arabella Figg, if you do not sit down and calm yourself I will be forced to do it for you," And Harry suddenly noticed the glint of McGonagall's cherry wand tucked into her belt. Figg looked at McGonagall for a moment, and if she couldn't make up her mind, Harry was sure McGonagall was ready to pounce. Thankfully, Figg's shoulders slumped and she looked at her feet, slippers and all.
P
"Good," McGonagall sighed and let go of Figg's shoulders, "Now," she said turning to Harry.
P
A lightbulb suddenly went off in Harry's mind. Why, exactly, was his teacher here?
P
"Potter, please have a seat and close your mouth," She said with a cheeky smile that Harry had never seen before.
P
Figg, her eyes dark and afraid, headed toward the kitchen. "I suppose you'll be wanting some tea," she mumbled.
P
"That would be lovely," McGonagall said as she took a seat in the torn blue chair across from Harry. Her face remained statue-like until Figg had completely disappeared behind the curtain. She then reached into her robe and took out a folded parchemnt. She opened it and placed it on the table before her.
P
"Potter, this is a decree from the Misistry of Magic written under the supervision of the Order of Merlin requested by Albus Dumbledore, third class," She said, her eyes bright. "As you are very well aware of, given your antics in the past, that the use of underage magic is prohibited by any wizard under the age of seventeen is not tolerated among any wizarding district---"
P
"Lemon, dear?" Figg asked, her head peeking around the curtain.
P
McGonagall's lips tightened at this intrusion, but she reamained calm. "No. Thank you."
P
"Got it," Figg said and disappeared again.
P
McGonagall adjusted her square glasses and Harry sat up, wondering what she wanted with him and some decree. "Mr. Potter it is no secret that your life has been and will now be in danger every moment you live, I'm sad to say. So, Albus requested that you recieve a pardon to use magic outside of Hogwarts at any time you feel your life is threatened."
P
Harry was surprised at this. It had always seemed to Harry that wizards did not tolerate such things, even law changes, especially for one lone half-blood like himself.
P
"Why?" Asked Harry, "Did the wizarding world agree?"
P
McGonagall's brow crinkled. "Well, I believe it's simply your fame, Potter. You are the one who ruined and defied... He-who-shall-not-be-named, countless times. It is understandable that they will give you some leverage. You have one year to go before you are seventeen and you will be living outside of Hogwarts... you must protect yourself under these terrible circumstances. Your headmaster can be very convincing." She said, letting a faint smile cross her lips.
P
"So," Harry started, "If I saw a Dementor at this very moment I could cast my Patronus and not worry about backlash at all?"
P
"That's right," McGonagall said with a nod, "But, I believe if we indeed saw a Dementor that I could take care of it for you. You will be allowed to use magic within reason, Potter. If you have someone, like myself, in your presence outside of Hogwarts then there is no need for your haste to use magic."
P
Harry found this to be very interesting, and was reminded immediately of The Order. They were, afterall, his guardians... even McGonagall. Before he could ask another question, Figg stumbled out from behind the curtain, a round jar of tea in her grasp. She handed it off to McGonagall who looked absolutely disguested with Figg's taste in cups.
P
"Would you mind, Arabella. I need to speak with Mr. Potter more. Alone." She said to Mrs. Figg with a curved tongue, her voice hard and delibrate.
P
"Right," Figg said, "I'll just go tend to my cats." She walked away and out the front door, leaving Harry alone with his teacher, who wiped the brim of the jar with her sleeve. It seemed cat hair stuck to her robes and McGonagall rolled her eyes, "That woman!" She growled. She then quickly whisked her wand from her robes and tapped the jar, which transfigured into a lovely teacup. McGonagall also pointed her wand at Harry's jar of tea, which transfigured into a mug. "How can you tolerate that old bat, Potter?" Harry wondered if he should actually answer her, but decided not to. Harry took a small sip of the tea, and found that it tasted like.... ragweed. Why was there a potion ingrident in his tea? Harry guessed Figg really was crazy. McGonagall inclined her head toward the door, checking for Figg, before moving across the room to the open window. She shut it. Turning to Harry, her face was straight and tight.
P
"I am not solely here to deliver a decree, we could have used an owl for that."
P
Harry raised his brow. What was up?
P
"I am here by decision of The Order. I am your escort, Potter."
P
"For what?" Harry asked, standing.
P
"I am taking you someplace for your protection," She said.
P
"The Burrow?" Harry asked, excited. The thought of seeing the Weasley's brightened his face.
P
"Hardly," McGonagall said.
P
"Grimmuald Place?" Harry wondered outloud.
P
"No." She said softly. "Why don't you sit down," she suggested. Perhaps, Harry wondered, that McGonagall thought that Grimmuald Place was too strong a subject for Harry. He wished both worlds, muggle and wizard alike, would stop treating him like a child.
P
"Where then?" Harry asked again, his voice demanding. Perhaps too demanding.
P
"You shall see in due time," She said, staring at him with a look Harry recognized as worry, "Do you feel alright, Potter?"
P
"Uh--- yeah," Harry said, but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt a small jolt in his stomach. He gulped and looked down at the maroon rug.
P
McGonagall suddenly bit her lower lip, and crossed her arms in front of her, "Please sit down, Harry."
P
Harry was taken aback. In the six years he had known Professor McGonagall, she had never directly called him by his first name. Harry suddenly felt inclined to sit. Upon sitting he realized his face felt hot, and his hands were sweaty. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, and he found his vision was blurry. Much worse than normal. He left his glasses off and tried to focus on the form of McGonagall, who blurred terribly as she turned toward the window. What was wrong with him? Had she hexed him? Why would any of The Order hex him? He groaned slightly as he felt another rumble in his stomach. His vision, which distorted every object in the room, was now dark and grey. What was wrong with him?
P
"Professor," Harry tried, "What's.. going....on?" He found his speech was slurred.
P
But, Harry never heard her answer. He slumped forward and felt his mind go somewhere far off. He felt like he was slowly falling alseep. Like he was watching his mind close. Somewhere, very far off, he heard voices.
P
"How much did you give him?" The voice of McGonagall pierced his ears blindly.
P
"Essence of ragweed, mixed with hartrex powder. Quite a simple tonic, really."
p
Harry, somehow, noted that voice was a man's. A very familiar man's. The voice was harsh and decisive with little sympathy... no, Harry realized, there was no sympathy in this man's voice. Harry registered that it was the voice of Severus Snape. As Harry felt his mind close and simply wander, he heard one last thing:
P
"Did it work?" Figg asked.
P
Darkness. All Harry felt was darkness.