CHAPTER 8!!!
Hey, everyone! Thank you sooo much to all of my reviewers, every single one
of you are excellent. I hope that you keep reviewing and everything because
encouragement helps! A lot! Haha. I've already gotten toe next, like, 15
chapters written.sooo...make sure you keep checking up on this story! I
love you all! And I'm glad that everyone finds my story so humorous! ( I
laugh when I read it, too. But that's because I'm just insane. Whatever.
Have a good day!
And disclaimers STILL apply. (
***
"Look, Minerva. He's waking up," said Dumbledore as he stood up. McGonagall joined him and took Harry's hand. The boy blinked sleepily and looked up at the two figures looming over him.
"Professors?"
"Yes, Harry."
Harry smiled contentedly and made to settle back into his pillow. Then, suddenly remembering, he jolted upright. "I did it!"
The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes. "Your scar turned blue while you slept. We figured that you must have been doing something."
"You talked to Professor Snape?" asked McGonagall.
"Yeah. Kind of freaked him out, too. He told me to get out of his head. Thought he was dreaming."
Dumbledore chuckled. "What did he tell you, Harry? Anything?"
"Well, after having to explain my presence in his head several thousand times, he told me that he really had no idea where he was. I asked him to remember anything, and he said that he remembered seeing a forest with the largest trees he had ever seen. Here are no animals or birds about, and this house is on a hill, overlooking a village. He thought that the land could have been a farm or a garden at one time, because there were a bunch of dead plants around the outside. Oh, and he said it smelled like death, like corpses. I told him he was lying in a pool of his own blood. He didn't really appreciate that too much," said Harry.
"I'm sure," said McGonagall.
"Is that all he had to tell you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yes. I kept asking him is he remembered anything else, but he didn't. I don't know if that's enough to start looking or not, but I promised him that we'd try."
"Of course we'll try, Harry. But you're right, that's not much to go on."
"I figure we'll start looking for some kind of creepy house on a hill overlooking a small town. Surely there are folk tales, or some kind of haunted house legends, don't you think?" asked Harry.
McGonagall frowned. "There are thousands of places like that."
"I know, but it's the only plan we've got," replied Harry.
"Alright," said Dumbledore, stepping in, "we'll start looking in the morning. Which is in about five hours. Get sleep now, Harry. I'll have to fight to get Poppy to let you out in the morning."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Good night, Harry," murmured McGonagall, and the teachers walked out of the room. It had been a very long night.
*****
True to his word, at 9:00 the next morning, five hours later, Dumbledore stood inside the hospital wing, patiently trying to convince Madame Pomfrey to let Harry go, at least for a little while. The injuries that Harry had suffered at the hands of his uncle were almost completely gone, despite his having to walk on crutches because of his still-ailing knee. The only true recurring problem was the constant threat of the Cruciatus Curse, but Harry was well equipped with post-Cruciatus potion in case of incident. Therefore, Madame Pomfrey reluctantly gave in to Dumbledore's request, and within half an hour, Harry, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were sifting through a mountain of books.
"I wish Hermione were here. She knows everything," muttered Harry unhappily as he glared at his stack of books.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him as he quietly went back to his work. She took a moment to study the boy. He had changed so much in a very short amount of time. His dark hair, which had always been short and messy, was now a good five inches below his shoulders and wavy. The shape of his face had changed, too. Gone was the boyish face that characterized him as James Potter's son. His face was now long and angular, with higher cheekbones. His eyelashes were longer than before, too. Or maybe they had just been hidden behind his glasses all those years. Harry, who had been very short for a fourth year, had grown dramatically in the six weeks since summer started. At the end of the school year, he had been 5'5. Now he was around 6'1. The change was incredible.
Minerva turned back to her work, though she kept sneaking looks at Harry. She didn't really know how to feel about the change. He was Snape's son, for goodness sakes. But he was still Harry Potter. He would always be Harry Potter.
**
Three and a half hours later, Harry, Minerva, and Albus went to lunch in the Great Hall. There weren't very many teachers around. Harry saw Argus Filch and his terrible cat, Mrs. Norris, eating by themselves in a secluded corner of the teachers' table, and Professor Sprout chatting merrily with.. Remus Lupin??
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Professor McGonagall? Is that.. Professor Lupin?"
Minerva chuckled. "Yes, Harry, it is. He'll be back teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."
Harry grinned. "Excellent," he said. The three walked up to the teachers' table and sat down. Since it was nearly deserted, Harry was able to sit with his professors.
"Hello, Minerva, Albus. Where have you two been?"
"In the library, Remus. How are you today?" asked Dumbledore happily.
"Oh, I'm excellent. Simply excellent." Then, noticing Harry for the first time, he said, "Where are my manners? He stuck out his hand toward Harry. "Hello, I'm Remus Lupin. And you are?"
Harry's jaw dropped and he choked on his food. Had he really changed that much?
Remus decided that the young man obviously wasn't going to take his hand, and dropped it. At the same time, Harry found his voice.
"Professor, it's me! I'm Harry Potter!" he croaked unhappily. God, if his own mentor didn't recognize him, how was anyone else supposed to?
Now it was Remus's turn to gape. He jumped up in shock and looked down at - Harry? This child didn't look anything like Harry! How in the world had this happened? And why was he on crutches?
Remus shook his head. "H-Harry?"
The boy nodded.
Remus couldn't help himself. "Oh my god!"
Harry lowered his head in guilt and shame. He knew that he had changed, but he had at least thought that he was recognizable!
Fortunately, Dumbledore chose that time to step in. He had been watching the scene play out, and he knew that Harry was somewhat devastated. "Remus, I urge you to kindly think about what you are saying before you say it," he demanded.
Lupin looked shocked and put his hand over his mouth as he looked at the child in front of him-Harry. God, he was going to have to get used to this. This boy didn't look anything like Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just- you've changed so much since I last saw you! And that was only at the end of last year! I was just surprised, that's all."
Harry nodded, but didn't look up at Remus. "Weren't we all?" he said spitefully. He scrunched further into his chair.
Minerva looked at the lost young man sitting beside her and sighed. She had been privy to the entire conversation, but hadn't said anything. She knew that Harry was angry. Remus was his mentor, his professor, and his friend- and he hadn't even recognized him. Not like Minerva could blame Remus, really. If she hadn't witnessed the changes as they progressed, she wouldn't have known who the boy was, either.
"Harry," she said softly, and took his hand. Harry looked at her miserably for a moment before pulling his hand away and beginning to pick at his food.
Remus watched Harry with a look of sadness on his face. He had hurt the boy, that much was obvious. Harry had been happy to see him, and Remus had squashed him to the ground. God, what had he done? But really, there was no way that a child could change that much in six weeks. It just wasn't possible! He didn't look anything like James anymore. In fact, Harry resembled Lily more than ever. He resembled someone else, too, but Remus couldn't put a finger on it.
Since lunch seemed to be dragging along in silence, Remus decided to attempt a conversation. "So what were the three of you doing in the library all morning?"
Minerva decided to reply. "Severus has been captured by the Death Eaters, Remus. You-Know-Who found out that he was a spy."
Remus's eyes widened in shock.
Harry surprised them all by saying, "He's being held somewhere while being tortured. We don't know where it is, and my visions only give me limited insight on his whereabouts. We've been in the library all morning looking for clues as to where he might be. So far, we haven't really.." Harry's eyes suddenly glazed over and he started trembling.
"Albus!" Minerva yelped, holding on to Harry's shoulders to keep him steady. Dumbledore leapt up with amazing speed for a man of his age and levitated the teenager, who was now shaking in uncontrollable spasms.
"Albus? Albus, what's going on? What's wrong with him?" asked Remus, who was desperately worried.
"Wait a second, Remus," said Dumbledore. He walked swiftly to the hospital wing with Harry floating behind him.
"Poppy!" he bellowed, throwing open the doors to the hospital wing.
The medi-witch ran out oh her office, saw what was going on, and muttered, "Not again!" Poppy ran into her storeroom and got the post-Cruciatus potion, and then came back out in a hurry. A very angry Remus Lupin stood by and watched as his best friend's son screamed in agony and spasmed for a whole nine minutes before he finally slowed down. Madame Pomfrey shoved a post-Cruciatus potion down Harry's throat as the boy started sobbing.
"Harry? Harry? Shh, Harry, just breathe. It's okay, Harry. Shh," murmured Dumbledore soothingly. After a awhile, Harry's breathing returned to normal, and he was fast asleep.
"Will somebody please tell me what in the hell is going on?" hissed Remus furiously. Dumbledore and Minerva looked over at him as if noticing his presence for the first time.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Remus. Harry's scar connects him directly to Voldemort. When he is near or is angry, the scar burns. And when he curses people, Harry feels the curses. The only one that truly affects him, though, is the Cruciatus. Which you just saw."
Lupin gasped. "Cruciatus? For NINE minutes?"
"That's the shortest it's been, Remus. Last night, it was twelve minutes," said McGonagall matter-of-factly.
Remus's jaw dropped and he looked down at Harry, who was now sleeping peacefully. He quirked an eyebrow at Harry's shirt, which was an odd mix of blue and red.
"Um, Albus? Is Harry's shirt supposed to be that color?"
"What?" the blood drained from Dumbledore's face as he looked at Harry's once- blue shirt.
"Poppy?"
"Yes, Albus?"
"His chest, Poppy. It's bleeding," said the headmaster, who lifted up Harry's shirt. Underneath, his entire torso was covered in little cuts that were slowly seeping blood. Poppy sighed and healed the cuts.
"So, Albus, he gets hit with Cruciatus every time You-Know-Who casts it?"
"Yes."
"Damn," Remus said, contemplating exactly what that actually meant. "That boy deserves so much better than he gets. Why is he here in the first place, Albus? It's summer holiday!"
"He was being beaten, Remus. We found him in very bad shape in a cupboard in his uncle's house. He won't be going back there, ever."
"They did WHAT???" yelled a very angry Remus Lupin. He started pacing crazily. "Why didn't you owl me? Why didn't you tell Sirius? He's his legal guardian now, anyway. He deserves to know this!"
Harry stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake. No, he wouldn't wake, not for a while. He had somewhere else to be, somebody else to talk to. Harry's mind whirred as he tried desperately to find his connection with his potions master. Finally, he found that connection. And as Lupin, Dumbledore, and McGonagall argued steadily into the afternoon, they had no idea that another conversation was taking place, far away from the security of Hogwarts.
***
"Look, Minerva. He's waking up," said Dumbledore as he stood up. McGonagall joined him and took Harry's hand. The boy blinked sleepily and looked up at the two figures looming over him.
"Professors?"
"Yes, Harry."
Harry smiled contentedly and made to settle back into his pillow. Then, suddenly remembering, he jolted upright. "I did it!"
The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes. "Your scar turned blue while you slept. We figured that you must have been doing something."
"You talked to Professor Snape?" asked McGonagall.
"Yeah. Kind of freaked him out, too. He told me to get out of his head. Thought he was dreaming."
Dumbledore chuckled. "What did he tell you, Harry? Anything?"
"Well, after having to explain my presence in his head several thousand times, he told me that he really had no idea where he was. I asked him to remember anything, and he said that he remembered seeing a forest with the largest trees he had ever seen. Here are no animals or birds about, and this house is on a hill, overlooking a village. He thought that the land could have been a farm or a garden at one time, because there were a bunch of dead plants around the outside. Oh, and he said it smelled like death, like corpses. I told him he was lying in a pool of his own blood. He didn't really appreciate that too much," said Harry.
"I'm sure," said McGonagall.
"Is that all he had to tell you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yes. I kept asking him is he remembered anything else, but he didn't. I don't know if that's enough to start looking or not, but I promised him that we'd try."
"Of course we'll try, Harry. But you're right, that's not much to go on."
"I figure we'll start looking for some kind of creepy house on a hill overlooking a small town. Surely there are folk tales, or some kind of haunted house legends, don't you think?" asked Harry.
McGonagall frowned. "There are thousands of places like that."
"I know, but it's the only plan we've got," replied Harry.
"Alright," said Dumbledore, stepping in, "we'll start looking in the morning. Which is in about five hours. Get sleep now, Harry. I'll have to fight to get Poppy to let you out in the morning."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Good night, Harry," murmured McGonagall, and the teachers walked out of the room. It had been a very long night.
*****
True to his word, at 9:00 the next morning, five hours later, Dumbledore stood inside the hospital wing, patiently trying to convince Madame Pomfrey to let Harry go, at least for a little while. The injuries that Harry had suffered at the hands of his uncle were almost completely gone, despite his having to walk on crutches because of his still-ailing knee. The only true recurring problem was the constant threat of the Cruciatus Curse, but Harry was well equipped with post-Cruciatus potion in case of incident. Therefore, Madame Pomfrey reluctantly gave in to Dumbledore's request, and within half an hour, Harry, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were sifting through a mountain of books.
"I wish Hermione were here. She knows everything," muttered Harry unhappily as he glared at his stack of books.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him as he quietly went back to his work. She took a moment to study the boy. He had changed so much in a very short amount of time. His dark hair, which had always been short and messy, was now a good five inches below his shoulders and wavy. The shape of his face had changed, too. Gone was the boyish face that characterized him as James Potter's son. His face was now long and angular, with higher cheekbones. His eyelashes were longer than before, too. Or maybe they had just been hidden behind his glasses all those years. Harry, who had been very short for a fourth year, had grown dramatically in the six weeks since summer started. At the end of the school year, he had been 5'5. Now he was around 6'1. The change was incredible.
Minerva turned back to her work, though she kept sneaking looks at Harry. She didn't really know how to feel about the change. He was Snape's son, for goodness sakes. But he was still Harry Potter. He would always be Harry Potter.
**
Three and a half hours later, Harry, Minerva, and Albus went to lunch in the Great Hall. There weren't very many teachers around. Harry saw Argus Filch and his terrible cat, Mrs. Norris, eating by themselves in a secluded corner of the teachers' table, and Professor Sprout chatting merrily with.. Remus Lupin??
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Professor McGonagall? Is that.. Professor Lupin?"
Minerva chuckled. "Yes, Harry, it is. He'll be back teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."
Harry grinned. "Excellent," he said. The three walked up to the teachers' table and sat down. Since it was nearly deserted, Harry was able to sit with his professors.
"Hello, Minerva, Albus. Where have you two been?"
"In the library, Remus. How are you today?" asked Dumbledore happily.
"Oh, I'm excellent. Simply excellent." Then, noticing Harry for the first time, he said, "Where are my manners? He stuck out his hand toward Harry. "Hello, I'm Remus Lupin. And you are?"
Harry's jaw dropped and he choked on his food. Had he really changed that much?
Remus decided that the young man obviously wasn't going to take his hand, and dropped it. At the same time, Harry found his voice.
"Professor, it's me! I'm Harry Potter!" he croaked unhappily. God, if his own mentor didn't recognize him, how was anyone else supposed to?
Now it was Remus's turn to gape. He jumped up in shock and looked down at - Harry? This child didn't look anything like Harry! How in the world had this happened? And why was he on crutches?
Remus shook his head. "H-Harry?"
The boy nodded.
Remus couldn't help himself. "Oh my god!"
Harry lowered his head in guilt and shame. He knew that he had changed, but he had at least thought that he was recognizable!
Fortunately, Dumbledore chose that time to step in. He had been watching the scene play out, and he knew that Harry was somewhat devastated. "Remus, I urge you to kindly think about what you are saying before you say it," he demanded.
Lupin looked shocked and put his hand over his mouth as he looked at the child in front of him-Harry. God, he was going to have to get used to this. This boy didn't look anything like Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just- you've changed so much since I last saw you! And that was only at the end of last year! I was just surprised, that's all."
Harry nodded, but didn't look up at Remus. "Weren't we all?" he said spitefully. He scrunched further into his chair.
Minerva looked at the lost young man sitting beside her and sighed. She had been privy to the entire conversation, but hadn't said anything. She knew that Harry was angry. Remus was his mentor, his professor, and his friend- and he hadn't even recognized him. Not like Minerva could blame Remus, really. If she hadn't witnessed the changes as they progressed, she wouldn't have known who the boy was, either.
"Harry," she said softly, and took his hand. Harry looked at her miserably for a moment before pulling his hand away and beginning to pick at his food.
Remus watched Harry with a look of sadness on his face. He had hurt the boy, that much was obvious. Harry had been happy to see him, and Remus had squashed him to the ground. God, what had he done? But really, there was no way that a child could change that much in six weeks. It just wasn't possible! He didn't look anything like James anymore. In fact, Harry resembled Lily more than ever. He resembled someone else, too, but Remus couldn't put a finger on it.
Since lunch seemed to be dragging along in silence, Remus decided to attempt a conversation. "So what were the three of you doing in the library all morning?"
Minerva decided to reply. "Severus has been captured by the Death Eaters, Remus. You-Know-Who found out that he was a spy."
Remus's eyes widened in shock.
Harry surprised them all by saying, "He's being held somewhere while being tortured. We don't know where it is, and my visions only give me limited insight on his whereabouts. We've been in the library all morning looking for clues as to where he might be. So far, we haven't really.." Harry's eyes suddenly glazed over and he started trembling.
"Albus!" Minerva yelped, holding on to Harry's shoulders to keep him steady. Dumbledore leapt up with amazing speed for a man of his age and levitated the teenager, who was now shaking in uncontrollable spasms.
"Albus? Albus, what's going on? What's wrong with him?" asked Remus, who was desperately worried.
"Wait a second, Remus," said Dumbledore. He walked swiftly to the hospital wing with Harry floating behind him.
"Poppy!" he bellowed, throwing open the doors to the hospital wing.
The medi-witch ran out oh her office, saw what was going on, and muttered, "Not again!" Poppy ran into her storeroom and got the post-Cruciatus potion, and then came back out in a hurry. A very angry Remus Lupin stood by and watched as his best friend's son screamed in agony and spasmed for a whole nine minutes before he finally slowed down. Madame Pomfrey shoved a post-Cruciatus potion down Harry's throat as the boy started sobbing.
"Harry? Harry? Shh, Harry, just breathe. It's okay, Harry. Shh," murmured Dumbledore soothingly. After a awhile, Harry's breathing returned to normal, and he was fast asleep.
"Will somebody please tell me what in the hell is going on?" hissed Remus furiously. Dumbledore and Minerva looked over at him as if noticing his presence for the first time.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Remus. Harry's scar connects him directly to Voldemort. When he is near or is angry, the scar burns. And when he curses people, Harry feels the curses. The only one that truly affects him, though, is the Cruciatus. Which you just saw."
Lupin gasped. "Cruciatus? For NINE minutes?"
"That's the shortest it's been, Remus. Last night, it was twelve minutes," said McGonagall matter-of-factly.
Remus's jaw dropped and he looked down at Harry, who was now sleeping peacefully. He quirked an eyebrow at Harry's shirt, which was an odd mix of blue and red.
"Um, Albus? Is Harry's shirt supposed to be that color?"
"What?" the blood drained from Dumbledore's face as he looked at Harry's once- blue shirt.
"Poppy?"
"Yes, Albus?"
"His chest, Poppy. It's bleeding," said the headmaster, who lifted up Harry's shirt. Underneath, his entire torso was covered in little cuts that were slowly seeping blood. Poppy sighed and healed the cuts.
"So, Albus, he gets hit with Cruciatus every time You-Know-Who casts it?"
"Yes."
"Damn," Remus said, contemplating exactly what that actually meant. "That boy deserves so much better than he gets. Why is he here in the first place, Albus? It's summer holiday!"
"He was being beaten, Remus. We found him in very bad shape in a cupboard in his uncle's house. He won't be going back there, ever."
"They did WHAT???" yelled a very angry Remus Lupin. He started pacing crazily. "Why didn't you owl me? Why didn't you tell Sirius? He's his legal guardian now, anyway. He deserves to know this!"
Harry stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake. No, he wouldn't wake, not for a while. He had somewhere else to be, somebody else to talk to. Harry's mind whirred as he tried desperately to find his connection with his potions master. Finally, he found that connection. And as Lupin, Dumbledore, and McGonagall argued steadily into the afternoon, they had no idea that another conversation was taking place, far away from the security of Hogwarts.
