Dawn had a large contingent of friends to see her off at platform nine and three quarters. After saying goodbye to her, the group from Cleveland was heading to Heathrow to catch their flight back to the U.S. For once the Weasleys broke with tradition and they got themselves to the platform with plenty of time to spare. They all stood around talking with each other, not really wanting to say goodbye, and waiting for Hermione.
Ron looked around again. "It's not like her to be late."
"She did say she'd be here, didn't she?" asked Dawn.
"Yeah, I got an owl from her yesterday," said Ron. "Said she and her parents would be getting into London last night, and that she'd meet us here this morning."
"So what's keeping her?" asked Harry.
Dawn looked back toward the archway leading out into the rest of King's Cross Station. "I think I know."
Everyone followed her gaze, and saw Hermione hobbling toward them on crutches, with the lower half of her right leg encased in a plaster cast. Her parents were following behind, with her trunk, and Crookshanks' travel cage.
Ron was staring at Hermione's leg. "What's that?"
"It's called a cast," said Harry.
"What's it for?"
"Immobilizing broken bones," said Dawn. "Had one on my arm once."
"Hermione! What did you do?"
Hermione had finally gotten close enough to enter the conversation. "I broke my leg."
"Hey!" said Xander. "It's a very traditional thing to do on a skiing holiday."
"Yeah," said Buffy. "It gives you an excuse to sit by the fire in the chalet, and get all the cute guys to run and fetch you drinks and snacks and stuff."
"But why didn't you just get it fixed?" asked Ron. "Why's it in that…cast thing?"
"Because the ski patrol took me straight to the clinic, where the doctors set the bone, and put the cast on me," said Hermione. "I didn't have a chance to go to a wizard healer before a whole lot of Muggles knew I had a broken leg, and they would have been a little surprised to see me walking around on it the next day." She grinned at Buffy. "And it was kinda fun the way all the guys waited on me, hand and foot. I made lots of new friends."
Ron pushed down a feeling of jealousy. "So you're gonna be in that thing forever now?"
"Of course not!" said Hermione. "Even if I didn't do anything, it'd be healed in a couple of months, but I've already owled Madam Pomfrey. She'll fix it as soon as I get back to Hogwarts."
"Does it hurt?" asked Ron.
"Mostly it just itches…a lot!" said Hermione.
"Come on," said Buffy. "Let's get your stuff onto the train." She took Crookshanks from Mrs. Granger and handed him to Xander, and took Hermione's trunk herself.
With Buffy and Xander carrying Hermione's things they got everyone onto the train. They gave Dawn hugs goodbye, and returned to the platform, to wait with the others for the train's departure. They waved goodbye as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station.
Dawn, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Dean settled down in the compartment they were sharing. Ron kept looking at Hermione's cast. He pointed to it. "Why's that there?"
Hermione looked at where Ron was pointing, and saw the name written on the cast. "Oh, it's a Muggle tradition, to sign casts. That's Sven…he was a really nice ski instructor who gave me some lessons the day before it happened. He felt kinda bad about it…blamed himself a bit I think, but it really was my fault. I wasn't ready for that double black diamond run."
"And that?" asked Ron, pointing to another name.
"Eric," said Hermione. "He was on the ski patrol team that brought me down the mountain. He was really sweet."
Ron was frowning. "I don't see any girl's names here."
"Oh sure there are!" Hermione looked over the cast for a moment, before she pointed to one. "See, right there!"
"That's your mother," said Ron.
"Oh, right…" Hermione looked some more. "I'm sure there's another one here somewhere…"
Dawn pulled out a pen. "Here." She wrote her name in a clear spot down near Hermione's ankle. She handed the pen to Ginny when she was done. "Your turn."
Ginny added her own name, and then passed off the pen to Dean, who gave it to Harry when he was done. Harry gave the pen to Ron.
"Don't know why we're bothering," muttered Ron as he added his name to the cast. "It's going to be gone half an hour after we get back to Hogwarts."
"I'm going to ask Madam Pomfrey to keep it intact when she takes it off," said Hermione. "It will make a nice souvenir."
Hermione used a Mobilis charm on her trunk, and Crookshanks' cage so they followed her off the train without having to get anyone to carry them for her. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for her in the entry hall of the castle when they got there. She just shook her head and muttered something under her breath about the primitive state of Muggle medicine as she whisked Hermione away to the hospital wing while the rest of the students made their way to their dormitories. There wasn't a welcome back feast for the end of the Christmas holiday: Dumbledore figured that everyone had probably had quite enough feasting to last them a month or two by that point. Dinner that evening wouldn't be any different from the usual (but always excellent) Hogwarts fare.
Hermione came walking into their room, carrying her cast in one hand, and her crutches in the other just a few minutes before Dawn and Ginny were about to head down to dinner. She waved the cast at them. "So what should I do with this?"
"I don't know," said Ginny. "Maybe you could turn it into an umbrella stand."
"Or maybe put a pot in the top, with some sort of plant in it," said Dawn.
"Or you could keep swords in it," said Ginny. She saw the look Hermione was giving her. "Okay, maybe not swords."
Dawn grinned. "Just means you're starting to think like a Slayer."
The normal routine of school was reestablished quickly. The professors seemed to be handing out even more homework. Professor Snape was even more snarly than he had been through the autumn, and Dawn began to see that her friends really hadn't been exaggerating the way he could act sometimes. One incident—which started out with Snape's scathing criticism of a minor mistake made by Neville—escalated into most of their potions class serving detentions for a week, and 50 points lost for Gryffindor, 20 for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and 10 points lost for Slytherin, after Harry, Dawn, Ron and Hermione all protested his behaviour. Their lab partners were much more upset by the detentions than they were over the lost points after Blaise pointed out the effect on the house standings after it was all over was the same as it would have been if Snape had just given 30 points to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and 40 to Slytherin.
January passed quickly. Buffy came in to do another 'guest lecturer' spot for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. This time they got lectures on some of the nastier demons that haunted the world, and the ways to deal with them. Buffy's number one instruction: "Run!" The visit also happened to correspond with Buffy's birthday. She and Dawn spent most of that week expecting some sort of catastrophe to befall them, but the Buffy Birthday Jinx seemed to skip them this year. Buffy also had a present for Dawn: an ancient volume about the Key, written in Attic Greek, that she had received from Captain General Nicholas.
Harry knocked on the door to Professor Dumbledore's office one day in late January. He was there for his Occlumency lesson. They had cut back to once a week after school had resumed, and Harry thought that he was doing quite well. Professor Dumbledore seemed to be pleased with his progress.
Harry only heard the singing of the phoenix in reply to his knock, so he opened the door and entered the office. It wasn't unusual for the Professor to be a little late. Between running the school, heading up the Order of the Phoenix, being the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and half a dozen other duties, Professor Dumbledore was a very busy man.
Today there was something a little unusual sitting on the Professor's desk. Harry recognised it right away. It was Professor Dumbledore's Pensive. The familiar stone bowl sat on the desk, holding a swirling mist of memories. Harry stood and looked at it for a moment, feeling the temptation to stick his head into it to see what memories it contained. He was only tempted for a moment though. After contemplating the Pensive for a few seconds he turned away from it, toward Fawkes, and pulled some Owl Treats out of his pocket. "I never asked, do you like these?"
Fawkes gave a trill in response that Harry took to mean 'Yes.' He dumped a few of the treats out into his hand, and held it up for the phoenix to eat. "Here you go, boy."
Fawkes daintily pecked the treats from his hand, and trilled a 'Thank you,' to Harry.
"You're welcome," said Harry.
"That bird is going to get fat, if he isn't careful," said Professor Dumbledore.
Harry turned around quickly. "Oh, sorry professor."
"Don't be sorry," said Professor Dumbledore, "Fawkes is older, and possibly wiser than anyone in this room. He is quite capable of regulating his own diet."
"'Possibly wiser'?" asked Harry.
"It is hard to tell sometimes," said Dumbledore. "Fawkes tends to keep his own counsel most of the time, but then gets quite smug when things work out in ways that I didn't expect, as if he knew what was going to happen all along. But since he never tells me such things ahead of time, it's difficult to say if he is truly wise, or just like to amuse himself by pretending to be so."
Harry grinned at the idea of Fawkes treating Dumbledore the way he often felt that Dumbledore treated him. It was nice to know that the Professor knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end.
Harry took his usual seat in front of the Professor's desk. "So what are we going to do today?" Dumbledore hadn't given him any special assignment, beyond the usual instructions to work on clearing his mind each night before going to bed. He had said that he had a 'surprise' planned for today's session. Harry wondered if the Pensive would play a part in it.
Dumbledore didn't let him down. "We are going to be doing something different today. I want you to take a look at some memories."
"Whose memories, sir?" asked Harry.
Dumbledore just smiled. "I think you will figure that out on your own. Now, I want you to relax, and clear all thoughts from your mind."
Harry took a few deep breaths, and closed his eyes. He let his consciousness just drift away, not thinking. He didn't even think about not thinking. He just let his mind go blank. It had taken him months to learn how to do that.
He felt a slight touch at his temple, and then he was somewhere else. This was different from his previous experiences with the Pensive. He didn't feel like he was an observer of someone else's memories. He was experiencing the memory for himself. He felt like he was sitting cross legged on something soft, with his eyes closed. He could feel something subtle stirring around him, and he knew that he was the cause of it. It was concentrating in front of him, and slowly buoying something up. He just knew that this time he'd gotten it right. This time it had worked, after so many failed attempts. He opened his eyes, and saw the feather floating in front of him. He let out a loud whoop! of joy, that sounded strangely high pitched to him. His concentration was broken, and he lost control over the magic. The feather fell back down onto the bed.
Now that his eyes were open, Harry looked around. He was in a strange bedroom, one that was full of Muggle furnishings. He could see an aquarium that didn't seem to have any fish in it, just a plastic diver figure. There was a desk with an old computer on it. It looked like it was fresh from the box, but the computer model itself looked like one Dudley had had, several years ago. There was a poster on the wall with some stylized dogs, and a baby carriage that proclaimed Dingos Ate My Baby whatever the heck that was supposed to mean.
Harry also became aware of some strange sensations coming from his body. There was an unusual heaviness about his chest. He looked down at himself, and saw that he was a she.
"Whoa!"
The surprise caused Harry to jump out of his…her body, and he found he was suddenly an observer of the memory, like he had been in his previous experiences with the Pensive. Now he could see the girl whose memory he had experienced, and he recognised her. It was Willow, looking several years younger than she now did. She appeared to be sixteen or seventeen. She was sitting on the bed, with a big grin on her face, looking at the single white feather lying on the bedspread in front of her.
Harry felt a tugging at his temple, and he felt the memory being pulled away. He was back in his body, sitting in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk. He saw the Professor pulling the wisp of memory away from his head with his wand, and dropping it back into the Pensive. "What was that?"
Dumbledore smiled at him. "I'm sure that you can tell me."
"Okay, yes, it was a memory of Willow Rosenberg's, using magic to float a feather, but why did you show it to me? You didn't just show me either…I experienced it."
"Yes," said Professor Dumbledore. "If you can achieve sufficient clarity of consciousness you will experience a memory that is placed into your mind from the Pensive, rather than just observe it. I judged that you were ready."
"Okay," said Harry, "but why?"
"Miss Rosenberg was kind enough to let me borrow a few significant memories from the development of her powers. That was the first time she successfully levitated anything."
"Okay," said Harry, "but why?"
"It was the first time she ever really managed to feel, and manipulate the magic around her."
"Okay," said Harry, "but why?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I wanted you to feel what it felt like, in the hope that it would aide you in accomplishing the same thing."
"What?"
"I told you last spring that you have within you a power that Voldemort has not at all. It is a power that you share with Miss Rosenberg. It is the ability to manipulate not just your own internal magic, but also the magic of the world around you."
"You think that I can do magic the way Willow does it."
"You have the potential," said Dumbledore. "It is a very rare ability, we haven't seen anyone with as much potential in Hogwarts for many decades. Your mother had it a bit—that was the magic that she used to protect you from Voldemort—but she didn't have anywhere near as much power as Miss Rosenberg, or as you may be able to develop."
"Er…why didn't you say anything about this before?"
"Trying to push you into this before you were ready could have had disastrous consequences. You are still quite young. Miss Rosenberg was a year older than you in that memory you experienced, and she herself was too immature to handle the powers she was soon to unleash."
"What sort of consequences."
"Miss Rosenberg let me have some of her memories of those things too. I may be showing them to you in future sessions, call them warnings of what could happen to you if you lose control."
"If I'm too immature, why show me anything?"
"I didn't say you are too immature," said Dumbledore. "I said that you are younger than Miss Rosenberg was when she started to work with magic, and that she was too immature. Maturity and age are not the same thing. I have hopes that you will fare better."
"You hope."
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "And also, like Miss Rosenberg, there is a pressing need for you to develop your abilities. She had to do it to aide her friends in their defense against the various creatures that were attracted to the Hellmouth. I fear that Voldemort will not continue to hide in the shadows for much longer. He will soon be ready to begin a more active campaign in his quest for power. I am afraid that you will have to face him, sooner rather than later."
Professor Dumbledore took a small white feather out of a drawer, and layed it on his desk. "Now, I want you to remember what it felt like for Miss Rosenberg to float her feather, and try to do the same."
