Chapter Five. The Delight of Battle
Harry sat down next to the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. He wasn't particularly concerned. No detention could be as bad as the ones he had endured with Umbridge last year, and he was certain Dumbledore wouldn't expel him.
Thinking of Dumbledore did remind him of Occlumency, and he guiltily practiced his exercises. After a few moments, his guilt had subsided, and he was even able to consider his 'Ginny problem,' as he had come to think of it, with a certain amount of detachment. A plan had begun forming when Snape appeared.
"On your feet , Potter. Jelly bellies," Snape said, looking disgusted.
Harry wasn't sure if Snape was disgusted by having to address him or by having to utter the password. The gargoyle moved, and Harry stepped onto the staircase, followed closely by Snape.
As he expected, the Headmaster was waiting for them. The office appeared much the same as it had before Harry's outburst last year, although the shelves weren't quite as crowded as he remembered.
"Please have a seat Harry," Dumbledore said somberly. "Might I ask what happened to tonight?"
Harry told him.
"Headmaster," Snape said smoothly as Harry finished, "we cannot have a student hexing others in the halls just because he feels like it."
Harry pushed down a sudden surge of anger, taking deep, steadying breaths.
"I quite agree, Severus." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "At the time, did you believe Draco intended to harm you?"
Harry nodded. "It was an ambush, sir."
"Do you expect us to believe, Potter, that you were surprised and still managed to disable three sixth-year Slytherins?" Snape sneered.
"Professor, two of the three were Crabbe and Goyle," Harry pointed out.
"Do your students tell a different story?" Dumbledore asked mildly.
"They say that Potter surprised them one at a time as they came around a corner."
"I see," Dumbledore said. He appeared to come to a decision. "Since the term has not begun, no house points will be lost by either Gryffindor or Slytherin. All of the four students involved will be given a week's detention as determined by their Head of House." He paused. "Now, Severus, if you will excuse us for a moment, I would like to speak to Harry alone."
"Of course, Headmaster," Snape said, rising to leave.
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, sitting very still with his eyes closed. Harry had just begun to wonder if he had fallen asleep when he opened his eyes.
"Harry, you would do well to avoid wandering off alone this year," he finally said. "I would also ask you to avoid further confrontations with Mr. Malfoy. I have recently been apprised of some disturbing information. There is reason to believe Voldemort has persuaded one student, possibly more, to spy for him."
"And Draco may be one of them," Harry concluded aloud.
"I did not say that, Harry," Dumbledore corrected him gently. "I very much fear that there are agents under Voldemort's control much closer to you than that," he said somberly.
For a moment, Harry sat very still. The Headmaster's little contraptions whirred, ticked, and huffed around him.
"If you ever need to talk, Harry, please come to see me," Dumbledore said sadly. "The gargoyle will always open for you."
"Thanks," Harry said, standing up.
He was not surprised to see Ron and Hermione waiting for him just outside the Headmaster's Office.
"Did you really do it?" Ron asked excitedly as they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.
Harry nodded.
"I would've loved to see that," Ron said merrily, nearly skipping with excitement. "I mean, we've known for ages that his head was stuck up his—"
"Are you all right?" Hermione interrupted impatiently.
Harry sighed and told them what Dumbledore had said. Ron looked shocked and walked along more slowly.
Hermione simply nodded.
"You knew about this?" Ron asked Hermione.
"I suspected something of the sort," Hermione replied, "but I wasn't sure."
"You should have told us," Ron said accusingly.
"I wasn't sure," Hermione repeated.
Ron frowned but said nothing.
"Harry, you shouldn't go anywhere alone," Hermione said firmly.
Harry did not like that at all. He started to retort.
"She's right," Ron said, cutting him off.
"You should stay in a crowd whenever possible," Hermione continued, sending a quick smile towards Ron for his support. "If there's no crowd, then one of the Weasleys or myself should be with you."
"I don't need to be babysat," Harry said irritably.
"I should think that you would want to avoid trouble," Hermione told him with some heat. "You're always telling us that you don't go looking for trouble. So prove it."
Harry frowned and began to flush with anger. He knew she was right, of course, but he still didn't like the idea of being escorted wherever he went.
"Why just us?" Ron asked curiously. "Why not ask all the sixth years?"
"Because," Hermione replied coldly, "I know where we were this summer. I can't say that for the other Gryffindor sixth years."
"You suspect a Gryffindor?" Ron asked, shocked.
"No, but we can't rule anyone out yet, either. Except us, of course."
They walked in silence after that.
When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione gave the password then stopped.
"Have the portraits been asked to keep an eye on Harry?" Hermione asked the painting.
The Fat Lady nodded warily.
"If it doesn't contradict your instructions, could someone let Ron or I know if a portrait sees Harry sneaking around the castle alone?" Hermione asked.
"Or if someone under an invisibility cloak tries to leave the Tower?" Ron added.
"We might be able to do that, but I must check with the Headmaster first," the Fat Lady said slowly.
Harry refused to speak to either of them and stormed up to his dormitory in a fury.
Ron wisely hung back with Hermione.
Neville, Seamus, and Dean were already asleep. Before he shut the curtains on his bed, he noticed a small painting above Neville's bed that had not been there last year. Frowning, he sat cross-legged on his bed and fumed.
He settled into an Occlumency exercise and found his anger dissipating. Almost unconsciously, he practiced lengthening his fingernails. He began to feel foolish about getting so furious at a sensible set of precautions that were, after all, intended to keep him alive.
But as his anger receded, it seemed to Harry that there was nothing else in him to take its place. He felt hollow and empty.
I'm a target, as usual, he thought. Who's going to die next time? Ron? Hermione? Molly Weasley? Me? He took a deep shuddering breath.
I am a stupid boy, he told himself sadly. I wanted to impress her with a prank, but I'm not a normal school boy, am I? Why am I trying to pretend? Winning the Quidditch Cup or setting Snape's robes on fire isn't going to win me the girl, is it?
I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS! Harry screamed to himself.
Then Harry had a blinding realization. He felt as though half of Hogwarts fell on his chest. Why would she want to? Why would anyone willingly choose to share his life, even a little?
Didn't she want a garden of her own one day?
He stared out into the darkness for a long time. He didn't remember falling asleep, or Ron coming to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry had been getting out of bed early since the start of summer, so he wasn't particularly surprised to wake to a darkened dormitory. Quickly and quietly, he dressed and headed down to the Common Room to wait for Ginny.
He felt better than he had last night. He could be her friend, he decided. She was a Weasley, and he was friends with all the Weasleys.
"I can do this," he whispered to himself confidently. He had planned an interesting practice for them in the Room of Requirement and was looking forward to Ginny's reaction when he showed it to her.
In the Common Room, Harry waited and waited, growing increasingly fidgety. He went through the Tai Chi and Ba Kua forms from memory.
When he completed them, he began to pace, frowning. Harry had not considered for a moment that Ginny would abandon their sparring sessions together once they were at Hogwarts. They had seemed so important to her.
He noticed a new sign on the Notices Board stating that meals would be served in the Great Hall starting with breakfast that morning.
She must have overslept, he decided. After all, it had been a hectic few days. With a sigh, he slumped into a chair to wait for breakfast.
He dozed lightly until the Gryffindors began gathering in the Common Room and drifting out to breakfast.
"Morning," Hermione greeted him hesitantly, unsure of Harry's temper. "Shall we go to breakfast?"
Still puzzled about Ginny, Harry was too distracted to think about whether or not to be angry with Hermione. "Sure," he agreed, knowing that waiting for Ron, who never willingly got out of bed, was pointless. "I suppose we can save Ron some toast."
Hermione visibly relaxed. Harry stood up, and they headed toward the Portrait Hole.
Along the way, Hermione chattered excitedly about the classes she was taking and her goals for the year. Harry had long since learned how to nod at the appropriate times without really listening.
The Great Hall was rapidly filling up as Hermione and Harry walked along the Gryffindor table toward their usual seats. Harry, baffled, saw Ginny and Dean sitting together. He wondered how he had missed both of them coming down for breakfast.
He stopped. "Ginny, I never saw you come down to the Common Room," Harry said, the words coming in a rush. "Did you oversleep? I was expecting us to get together before breakfast, but you never showed. Are we on for tomorrow morning, then?"
Ginny froze, her fork hovering halfway between her plate and her mouth.
Harry glanced at Hermione who was making strangled gurgling noises.
"What, exactly, are you planning to do with Ginny tomorrow before breakfast?" Dean asked stiffly.
Harry blinked. Hermione was surreptitiously kicking at his shins. The Gryffindor table had gone very quiet.
"Umm," Harry stuttered, his eyes seeking out Ginny for help, "you know, practice."
"It's nothing, Dean," Ginny shrugged casually. "I'll tell you about it later."
Nothing? Harry thought.
"Nothing," Dean repeated flatly. "It doesn't seem like nothing to me."
"Me either," Harry added hotly, feeling hurt. "You practically dragged me out of bed a few mornings ago. It's not nothing."
"Keep your voices down," Hermione pleaded quietly, tugging at Harry's robes. "Please, let's just go and sit down."
Harry pulled away from her. "I just don't understand what is happ—"
"I don't understand either," Dean interrupted.
Ginny hissed and stood up, throwing down her fork on her plate where it clattered loudly. She grabbed both boys by their elbows and dragged them out of the Great Hall, growling to herself. She strode out the front doors of the castle, still dragging them along. Whenever Dean or Harry started to say anything, she silenced them with an outright snarl and a hard jerk on the arm.
He figured that they looked ridiculous, a small red-haired girl manhandling two boys, one of whom easily topped six feet.
He grinned.
Dean, on the other hand, was looking scared.
When they were well away from the castle, she turned on Dean. "I have friends," she said in a deadly calm voice. "Some are boys. Friends do things together. Harry and I have been fencing together every morning. You are my boyfriend. We do other things together. If that ever changes, you will be the first to hear about it. Do you understand?"
Dean nodded, looking abashed.
"And you," Ginny said as she poked Harry in the chest with her finger, "and just who do you think you are? Did you ask if I wanted to practice? No, you didn't.
"Did you ask if I was available? NO, YOU DIDN'T." Ginny was growing louder.
"Did you bother to say anything? NO, YOU DIDN'T," she roared at him. "I CANNOT READ YOUR MIND, YOU PIDDLE-HEADED LOUT!"
Harry blinked. What was a piddle-headed lout? "Er, sorry?" he attempted lamely.
Ginny snorted.
Dean, standing behind Ginny, was apparently relieved that Harry was catching the bulk of the girl's fury and was trying hard to suppress a grin.
"So, umm, would you like to practice tomorrow morning?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Ginny said shortly.
"Don't mind if I join you, do you?" Dean said suddenly, looking down at him over the top of Ginny's head.
Ginny started to say something but stopped herself. She glared at Harry.
"Er, sure?" Harry said, hoping he was guessing right.
"Cool," Dean said with a grin. "Come on, then, let's get back inside. I'm hungry."
They trudged back to the castle. He surreptitiously glanced at Dean and Ginny. Dean appeared to be at ease. Ginny was staring at her feet, her forehead furrowed and her lips pursed.
Great work, you piddle-headed lout, Harry thought miserably.
A shadow caught his attention, and he looked up just in time to see a barn owl swooping down on him. The owl dropped a letter without landing, and Harry snatched the tumbling letter out of the air. He broke the seal.
Harry,
Here are the exercises, as promised.
Tonks
Harry fell behind Ginny and Dean as he read through the exercises. There were fifteen of so exercises, and he figured by the time he mastered the tenth, he'd be able to hide his scar.
He heard laughing. Looking up from Tonks' letter, he saw Ron, still tousled from bed, talking excitedly to Ginny who was nodding and smiling. Hermione, looking stern, was striding directly at Harry.
"Ron got a letter from Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "The Weasleys won 2,500 galleons from a Quibbler lottery."
"I'm sure they can use it," Harry smiled.
Hermione started at him suspiciously. "The Quibbler doesn't have a lottery."
"They don't?" Harry asked as innocently as he could.
"They don't. Do you know anything about this?" she demanded quietly.
"No, why would I know anything about it?" Harry protested.
Hermione just stared at him.
Harry stared back as blankly as he could.
"Harry…," Hermione warned.
"Alright, alright, I give up," Harry confessed. "It was me."
"I don't understand you at all, Harry. Just when I'm absolutely convinced that you have the sense of a turnip, you have to go and do something nice," she sniffed.
"It wasn't all me," Harry said quickly, "Ginny suggested the Quibbler lottery."
"See? I knew you were a turnip," Hermione smiled.
They both stood for a moment watching Ron talking excitedly with his sister and absent-mindedly running his fingers through his hair.. Ginny looked convincingly flabbergasted.
Ron looked at and noticed Harry. "Oi! Harry!" he shouted, hurrying over.
Behind Ron's back, Ginny, smiling, gave Harry a little bow.
"Did you hear?" Ron said to him.
Harry nodded.
"Mum says they're going to rebuild the Burrow one day," Ron told him, "once they're sure it won't get knocked down again. When the Death Eaters are gone." Ron paused. "Hermione, what's the matter?"
"N-n-nothing," she choked.
"What?" Ron asked, baffled.
"If-f those m-m-monsters ever g-g-gone," she choked out.
Without warning, she wrapped Ron in a hug. Ron looked stunned, then slowly softened and delicately hugged her back. He stood there with a strange look that imperceptibly transformed into something else.
"S'alright, Hermione," Ron told her gently. "Place needed to be rebuilt. Will be rebuilt. Dad's been talking about putting in let-outs for his plugs."
"Outlets," came Hermione's muffled correction.
Ron rolled his eyes for Harry's benefit. Harry smiled uncomfortably, feeling like he was intruding on something. Nodding to Ron, he turned back toward the castle, alone.
"Don't they 'let out' electricity?" he heard Ron teasing gently.
Walking away, he didn't hear Hermione's reply.
With breakfast over, the whole school appeared to be moving outside, walking in small chattering groups. None of them seemed to have a care in the world, and it made Harry jealous. What was happening to his friends? When did everybody start noticing everybody? Did girls notice him? What was that look Ron had—
"Harry!"
Harry shook himself out of his reverie and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley hurrying towards him.
"I saw Dean and Ginny. They said you were going to start up the D.A. again," he said.
"Yes," Harry replied shortly.
"When?" Justin asked eagerly.
"Not sure," Harry shrugged, "soon, I guess."
"What about today?" Justin asked.
"This isn't a good day for me," Harry replied sincerely.
"Why not? None of us are doing anything."
Harry frowned.
"Better sooner than later, with what happened to poor Anthony over the summer," Justin added anxiously.
There was a pause. Justin waited expectantly.
"All right, Justin," Harry said reluctantly. "We'll meet this morning on the pitch at ten. If you see anybody else, let them know."
Very reluctantly, he turned around. He thought that something might be happening, something that he wanted to avoid knowing about.
"See you then!" Justin called out after him.
Harry sighed. Lovely day, he thought.
When he saw Hermione and Ron, they were standing awkwardly apart, looking at their feet and smiling. When they saw him, their smiles faded a bit.
"Er," Harry started, "we're having a D.A. meeting at ten on the pitch."
Neither Ron nor Hermione appeared to know what to say.
Harry knew then that something certainly had happened, and he felt a pang of loss that he could not completely suppress. These were his two best friends, after all, and he was miserably certain that nothing was ever, ever, going to be quite the same again.
"Ummm, have you two, er," Harry asked nervously, "have you finally sorted yourselves out?"
Hermione mouth opened and closed. Ron gurgled something that sounded like 'griddle widdle'.
The three friends stood eyeing each other in an awkward silence.
Not everything happens to you, Harry told himself fiercely. Let something good happen for them. They deserve it.
"Should I tell everyone myself, or should I use the fake galleons?" Harry asked with a small, hesitant smile.
Hermione looked shocked.
"About the D.A. meeting, I mean," Harry said.
"OH!" Hermione exclaimed, fumbling around frantically in the pockets of her robes. "I-I think I-I have one…around here…oh, drat!…where…is…"
Ron sidled over, caught Hermione's hand and held it. She grew still and looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"I've asked Hermione if I could escort her to Hogsmeade this weekend," Ron announced.
"And what did she say?" Harry asked.
"She said 'yes'," Ron replied with a lop-sided grin.
Harry handed his fake galleon to Hermione. "If you could take care of this, I'll see you at ten."
He started to turn away but stopped. "All right there, you two?" he asked them uncertainly.
Ron grinned. "Right as stuffed monkeys. You?"
"I'm good, mate," Harry assured him, "really I am."
But despite what he had told Ron, as he retraced his path toward the castle, Harry felt lost. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hadn't realized before how much time he spent just drifting along in Hermione and Ron's wake. Without really thinking about it, he found himself back in Gryffindor Tower.
The Common Room was nearly empty. A clutch of fourth year girls were surreptitiously glancing at him and giggling. Absent-mindedly, he wondered what that was all about as he went up the stair case to his dormitory.
He dug Snuffles out of his trunk and sat down on his bed to write.
I solemnly swear I am up to Sirius fun.
Hullo, Harry. What can I do for you?
Ron and Hermione are going on a date.
About time.
When did you—sorry, Sirius—figure that out?
The first time that he saw them together, I think.
Oh.
A bit difficult for you, isn't it?
Yes, I suppose. They are my best friends.
When James started dating Lily, Sirius was furious with them both. He couldn't stand the idea of losing James to a girl. Take my advice, Harry, and don't say anything you'll regret later. Believe me, you three will adjust. The Marauders did, eventually.
Eventually?
Sirius was horrible to them. It was Remus that talked some sense into him in the end. It took some time, and one or two hexes, but Sirius finally realized he wasn't losing James as much as gaining a place to eat dinner.
Harry sighed and put down his quill. Snuffles was right, he reckoned. He would adapt to Hermione and Ron. Eventually.
It made sense, in a way, Harry decided. Hermione thinks too much, and Ron…well, Ron has had a spot of trouble with brains in the past, hadn't he? It balances out in the end, Harry supposed. And a place to eat dinner would be dead useful. Grinning, he picked up his quill again.
Just two hexes? he wrote, which ones?
Well, maybe several, but let's not go there.
I'll write Professor Lupin and ask him then.
Let's talk about you, Harry. Anyone you might fancy?
Why do you ask?
Mostly to change the subject. But there is, isn't there?
No.
Nobody?
Nobody.
Do you like boys, Harry? If you do, I'll understand, and I'll try to help you the best I can, but my experience is limited to—
NO! NO! I like girls! Really I do!
That's nice. Which ones? Sirius heard the Weasley boys talking about a pair of twins in your year. Do you like one of them?
Padma and Parvati. They are good-looking all right. I took Parvati to the Yule Ball in my fourth year. I didn't have very good time.
What about that girl you dated for a while last year?
Yes, I liked her, but it didn't work out. Hold on—you knew I like girls before you asked, didn't you?
Got me there. There's someone you like, though, isn't there?
Fine, yes, all right, you win. There is.
Have you told her how you feel? Asked her out?
No. I'm her friend. She's dating someone else.
Do you fancy Hermione?
No, of course not! I'd go mad watching her read all the time. I'd like a girl that's a bit less obsessed about grades and who knows a joke when she hears it.
HAH! It's Ginny Weasley!
I am tempted to throw you in the fire, do you know that?
Am I that obvious?
Not at all, Harry. It's just that you don't have that many friends. So tell me again, why you won't talk with her about how you feel?
She'd be mad to date me. She deserves more than I can give her.
What are you talking about? You are decent, nice, honest to a fault, humble, and rich as Midas. You're young, reasonably intelligent, and funny. You have all your teeth, no warts, and no extra appendages. Oh yes, let's not forget that you killed a sixty foot basilisk for her.
I also have a dark wizard whose hobby is thinking up horrible ways to kill me. I'm being hunted, remember? She'll never have a normal life while she's with me. Dean can give her that.
Shouldn't Ginny be allowed to decide for herself what she wants? Don't you deserve the chance for some happiness?
You are talking yourself out of a relationship before it even happens.
Come again?
You have thought up a reason to hide yourself from her. That's wrong. Decide what you are going to do about your feelings together.
What if she laughs at me or something?
She wouldn't do that, and you know it. Just talk to her.
Harry stared Snuffles' advice for a long time.
Finally, realizing he was going to be late, he tucked Snuffles into a pocket and went out to round up D.A. members. Wandering around the grounds, he ran into Terry Boot and Susan Bones near the Whomping Willow. They told him that everyone knew about the meeting and were probably already waiting for him on the Quidditch pitch. The three of them headed to the meeting together.
They passed a group of smirking girls, Ravenclaws this time, and one called out archly, "Going to practice, Potter?"
"Shut your cake hole, Amanda!" Terry, himself a Ravenclaw, yelled. "Silly cow," he muttered.
"You should stay with your own, Boot!" she shouted back.
Terry frowned and walked faster.
"What's she on about?" Harry asked him.
"There's a Ravenclaw defense club," Terry replied, shrugging, "Michael and Cho organized it, but I'd rather stay with the D.A." He looked Harry in the eyes. "Means something," he said.
"Cho's pretty talented," Harry said clinically. "She learned the Patronus Charm in no time at all."
Susan grinned and clapped Harry on the shoulder. He stumbled a bit.
"There's a Hufflepuff club, too," she told him, "but I'm sticking with you. You're a great teacher. 'Sides, those Defense League blokes give me the willies."
"Umm, thanks," Harry said sheepishly.
The Quidditch pitch was packed. Harry stopped walking and stared.
"Whole school joining the D.A.?" Terry asked Harry.
"I don't know," Harry said tightly through a surge of fear.
It did appear that the entire school was there. Harry was finding it difficult to swallow. Something was happening, and he was sure that it was going to happen to him. It always did.
The stands were full, and students were milling around. Some had brought picnics, and butterbeer bottles littered the pitch. The crowd was deafening, and it vaguely reminded Harry of a nightmarish school outing. He fought down a surge of panic.
"There they are," Susan said, pointing to midfield. "Come on, then, maybe they know what's happening."
Weak-kneed, Harry followed her. The D.A. was standing in a tight group looking extremely uncomfortable.
"Where have you been, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"What's happening?" Harry asked.
"Snape," Ron spat.
"Great," Harry muttered, noticing the black-robed potions master striding toward him.
"Potter," he snarled. "Finally decided to grace us with you presence, I see."
Hermione and Ron turned to face Snape and moved in closer to Harry.
"Easy, Harry," Hermione pleaded in the inaudible whisper she had perfected over five years of potions classes. "Please, please, don't—"
"Good morning, Professor," Harry replied, "pleasant day, isn't it?"
Snape's lips curled. "Watch your tongue, Potter, or I'll make sure you spend the entire year in detention."
"What can I do for you, professor? "I have permission from Professor McGonagall to hold an informational meeting for the D.A.," Harry rushed on defensively, "I wasn't expecting the whole school to—"
"Cease your babbling, Potter, " Snape cut him off, "I have already spoken to Professor McGonagall. I thought, however, that since you claim to be such a proficient dueler, you might wish to prove it."
"Professor, if you would please reconsider, this might not be such a good idea," Hermione said desperately.
"I do not recall asking for your opinion, Granger," Snape hissed at her.
Harry felt Ron trembling with anger.
"What did you have in mind, Professor?" Harry asked coldly.
"A duel," he said with a smirk, "to show your fan club here what you really are."
Harry could hear, under the din of the crowd, angry muttering from the D.A. members arrayed behind him. "Fine," Harry spat, "who? Malfoy?"
"Oh no, Potter," Snape smiled nastily, "Mr. Malfoy is still in the Infirmary recovering from your ambush."
If Harry had been nervous before, he couldn't remember it. Focusing, he stared at Snape with the blankest, emptiest look he could muster, struggling to keep his anger out of sight.
"Leman Crowley happened to stop by for a chat, and he thought it would be an interesting exercise," Snape continued.
Harry nodded.
"Five minutes," Snape said, striding off. He was as happy as Harry had ever seen him.
"Who is Leman Crowley?" Ron asked blankly.
"Slytherin," Padma Patil volunteered, "graduated two years ago. He's really good, I hear. He competes nationally."
The Slytherins were clearing a space on the pitch, bullying students to the sidelines.
"Stopped by for a chat. Right," Ron snorted.
"You can do it," Lavender said confidently.
"Give him hell, Harry," Neville added.
"Ron," Hermione ordered, "we need to move out of the way before the Slytherins get here."
Without waiting, Hermione grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him away. "You have to lose," she told him in an urgent whisper, "don't reveal how good you really are. Something is going on, and I don't understand what's hap—"
The center of the field was quickly emptying of milling Slytherins, who were swaggering past Harry and Hermione and over to the sideline opposite the D.A. Snape remained standing next to a whippet-thin, stern-faced young man with a shaved head.
"I'll think about it," Harry told her.
Hermione reluctantly retreated toward the sideline, very evidently not believing him.
Harry glanced back at the D.A. members who were shouting and cheering for him already. Frowning, he looked around the pitch at all the faces, variously waving bottles, shouting, laughing, booing and cheering.
He stepped toward Snape and Crowley.
"I'm ready," he told them calmly, pulling his wand out.
Crowley glared and grimaced at him from under his eyebrows, so Harry could get a good look at his shaven head.
"Are you trying to blind me with the glare?" Harry asked him.
"Back up until I tell you to stop," Snape ordered.
Harry walked backwards. Snape drifted along with him.
"I won't be standing anywhere that you could curse me accidentally," Snape told him softly.
"I'm not my father," Harry retorted.
"No, you are not," Snape snarled, "you are yet another arrogant little boy who thinks the entire universe revolves him—stop here—a delusion that happens to be fatal for those around you."
Harry felt icy. His hands clenched, and he was shaking. "If I'm alive after I graduate," he said flatly, "I will be paying you a visit. It won't be a social call."
"Your arrogance, Potter, is as profound as your stupidity, " Snape sneered at him as he moved away in a swirl of black.
"Bow!" Snape shouted from a safe distance.
Harry inclined his head the merest fraction, mimicking Crowley's own minimal response to Snape's command. He reckoned Crowley was about ten yards away.
"At the ready," Snape instructed. There was a heartbeat's pause.
"DUEL!" he bellowed.
Crowley was quick. "Tarantallegra! Stupefy!"
Harry jumped sideways, shouting, "Expelliarmus!"
Crowley easily sidestepped Harry's spell and without the slightest hesitation, fired off a string of curses. "Stupefy! Silencio! Stupefy!"
Harry dived, feeling hexes pass over his head. He rolled to his feet, and tried to cast a hex, but Crowley beat him to it.
"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!" Crowley bellowed.
Harry dodged out of the way and yelled, "Impedimentia!"
"Protego! Aeleolous!" Crowley shouted.
Harry scrambled out of the way of his own reflected Impediment charm and yelped "Protego!" in an off-balanced attempt to throw Crowley's curse back at him.
Harry realized an instant too late that the spell wasn't aimed at him directly. Instead, it blasted the ground at his feet, sending a shower of dirt into his face.
Briefly blinded and trying to shake the dirt from his eyes, Harry instinctively spun to his left, screaming, "RELASHIO!"
Showers of red and gold sparks shot from his wand spraying the approximate area where Harry thought Crowley was.
"Ow!" Crowley yelped..
"Dirtdiwasi!" Harry bellowed.
A clod of dirt shot into Crowley's mouth, and he choked.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry roared, putting everything he had behind the spell.
It was like Crowley had been hit by a truck. The spell lifted him off the ground and knocked him back twenty feet.
Harry deftly snatched Crowley's wand out of the air.
The noise from the crowd was deafening. His pulse hammering in his ears, Harry leaned over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
Crowley was on his hands and knees spitting out dirt.
After a moment, Harry straightened and ignoring the roaring crowd, walked over to Snape. He handed the professor Crowley's wand.
"I'm tired of being everyone's bloody scapegoat. I'm tired of seeing my friends abused," Harry told him, panting from exertion. "If you want to continue this game, you'd better have a hand on your wand."
"I'll have you expelled, Potter," Snape said flatly.
"So do it. I have a class to teach." Harry turned his back on Snape and went to meet the D.A.
He was immediately surrounded his friends' happy faces. Half tried to shake his hand, and the other half pummeled him on the back. Padma hugged him, and Susan kissed him on his cheek.
Smiling sheepishly, he tried to say something, but Ron cut him off.
"If you say you just got lucky, Harry," Ron yelled at him, 'I'll smack you."
"But—" Harry started.
"Don't say it!" the D.A. shouted at him.
"But—" Harry started again.
"You were brilliant, Harry, really," Ginny assured him.
"Was I?" Harry asked, surprised at the idea.
"YES!" the D.A. bellowed triumphantly, clapping and stamping their feet.
They wanted him to be proud and happy, Harry realized. They cared about what he thought about it. Harry just stood there for a moment, smiling happily.
Alright, alright, that's enough," Ron said with finality, "let's give him some room to breathe."
"It's the other dueling and defense clubs," Justin said, looking over Harry's shoulder, "looks like they're recruiting. Sprout's there with the Hufflepuffs."
"Flitwick and Snape are with their clubs, too," Dean added, standing on his toes and craning his neck.
"Bloody giraffe," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.
"Who's our faculty adviser?" Zachary Smith asked a bit suspiciously. "McGonagall?"
"No," Harry told him, "the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, whoever that is, has been assigned to us."
The look on Smith's face plainly indicated his doubt that this was going to turn out well.
A number of younger students, mostly Gryffindor second and third years, were beginning to converge on the D.A. They stopped nervously on the edge of the group, unsure of what to do.
Hermione made her way over to them. "Yes?" she asked them gently.
"We want to join your club," a small boy squeaked.
Ron and Harry and walked over to them. The boy looked at Harry with a mixture of fear and awe.
"All right," Harry shrugged.
"I'll sign them up, Harry," Hermione offered with a smile.
"Line up, runts!" Ron shouted.
"Can you all hear me?" Harry asked. Assured that everyone could, he continued. "Good. Just to touch on organizational stuff, we will be using fake galleons to send meeting notifications again this year. We'll have new ones made by the next meeting. Anyone have an issue with 8 o'clock Wednesday night?
"Right then. 8 o'clock Wednesday it is," Harry confirmed. "We'll be reviewing what we learned last year for at least one meeting—"
"More if it's necessary," Harry said firmly over their groans. "After that, for those of you who haven't mastered the Patronus Charm, I'll be setting aside an extra fifteen minutes at the end of each meeting to work on it. We all need to master that one."
"What about us?" a second year asked from the line. "We don't know anything."
Harry thought about it. "We'll schedule a second weekly meeting for the beginners," he decided. "Tuesday night?"
Taking younger students' excited nods for a confirmation, he went on. "That's settled then. We'll be concentrating first on simple spells that you already know," he added.
The second and third years looked severely disappointed. Harry looked at them sternly. "Even simple spells can be extremely useful. Ron over there defeated a mountain troll in his first year with a levitation charm."
The children goggled at Ron, who started to blush. "It was nothing," he muttered.
"Knocked the troll out with his own club," Harry said grinning.
"Hullo, what's this?" Colin Creevey said, pointing towards the castle.
Harry saw a tall, gaunt witch wrapped in a black shawl walking towards them. She had a remarkably pointy nose and inconceivably tangled and ropey masses of dark green hair.
"You Harry Potter?" she barked. "This Dumbledore's Army?"
Harry mutely nodded.
"I'm your faculty adviser," she said. "Professor Green. Well, get on with it then. I don't have all day," she said irritably. "Let's see what you can do."
"You heard the professor," Harry called out, "pair off!"
"Practice disarming and blocking," he told them when everyone was partnered and settled. "Ready? BEGIN!"
Wanting to give them a little time to warm up before he started patrolling, he visited Ron and Hermione who were just finishing signing up the new members.
The younger students were excitedly watching the older ones.
"Do you think you could run this class for me?" he asked Ron and Hermione. "I know you have these charms down cold."
Ron started to say something but Hermione beat him to it.
"I'd love to!" she beamed.
"I have an idea, if you like it," Harry said. "I thought maybe you could show them the charm I used to choke Crowley."
"Yeah," Ron said, "they'd like that, I think."
"Accio pebbles! Accio bottles!" Harry called.
Very quickly piles of butterbeer bottles and pebbles began forming at his feet.
"Ohhh," Hermione said, "That's really clever, Harry. They have to get the pebble in the bottle."
"Oi, you lot," Ron called, "come over here and take a bottle and some pebbles."
Harry nodded and smiled at Ron. "I'll be drifting back and forth if you need anything."
Harry walked slowly, watching the duelists. Overall, he was pleased with what he saw, and he suspected that most of them had been practicing secretly over the break. He was less pleased with some of the pairings.
Lavender was rusty, and her partner, Parvati, was coasting through the exercise. Oddly, it was Padma who was looking out of shape matched against Ernie MacMillan.
Katie Bell's reflexes were simply too fast for Hannah Abbot, who was losing each bout so quickly that neither girl was really being challenged.
Neville had improved enormously, he noticed, methodically blocking attack after attack from Seamus, who was growing increasingly frustrated by his inability to take Neville's wand from him.
Ginny and Dean weren't doing very well either. Ginny, looking extremely irritated, was methodically and regularly taking his wand with an ever-increasing amount of force. Dean, looking increasingly mussed, was awkwardly trying to avoid throwing any spells in her direction, not wanting to hex his girlfriend.
"STOP!" Harry bellowed.
"Excellent!" he congratulated them. "I want to mix you up a bit, though. Dean, you're with Neville. Ginny and Katie, Hannah and Seamus, Ernie and Parvati, Padma and Lavender," Harry ticked off on his fingers.
Thanks, Ginny mouthed to Harry as she walked over to Katie. Harry grinned and shrugged as if to say don't mention it.
"If I didn't know it was against the law," Harry said, "I would think you lot have been practicing, so let's get to the fun stuff. You can use any spell we learned last year, as long as or it wears off quickly or you know the countercurse for it. Yes, Dennis, that includes stunners. Best spread out as far as you can."
Harry waited for the pairs to move away from the others. "Ready? GO!"
Harry watched them for a minute. Satisfied that everyone was under control and following the rules, he went to check on Hermione and Ron. They had the new members lined up in a row, shooting the pebbles into bottles. It reminded Harry of a muggle firing range. Hermione was pacing slowly behind the firing line, stopping every now and again to make suggestions and corrections.
Ron was working with two students who were obviously having trouble with the spell. Much to Harry's surprise, Ron was speaking slowly and patiently.
"You have to think hard about where you want the pebble to go," Ron explained, "look at the bottle…concentrate on the opening."
Not wanting to disrupt them, Harry returned to the older D.A. class. They were already settling into familiar D.A. meeting noises and rhythms. Harry watched them.
Professor Green joined him. Neither spoke for a while.
"So, Potter, what do you see?" she suddenly asked him in a gravelly voice.
"They aren't moving around much," Harry said. "except for Katie and Ginny."
"The two girls you matched?"
Harry nodded.
"Quidditch players?" she asked.
"Yeah, chasers," Harry replied distractedly, watching the Creeveys carefully. Both had a tendency to get over-enthusiastic. While he was watching, they accidentally ignited each other's hair. "DENNIS! COLIN! Come here!" Harry barked.
The brothers approached Harry sheepishly. Colin had a patch of missing hair on the top of his head, and Dennis had lost a sideburn.
Harry wrinkled his nose at the stench of burnt hair. "Control is important," Harry told them. "I want you to stop whenever you feel yourself beginning to get excited. Then calm down and start again."
Colin nodded.
"Go over there," Harry said with a rueful smile, pointing to an empty area away from everyone, "so if you forget, you won't hit anyone else."
"Right!" Dennis said, skipping off. Colin ran after him.
"You have a talent for teaching," the professor observed.
"Thanks," Harry said, thinking that he had enough bad teachers to know what not to do.
"I have to cut this short. I've only just arrived," Green said abruptly.
Harry nodded and took a deep breath, wishing had had remembered his whistle. "STOP!" he shouted, waving them all in.
Hermione and Ron set the younger members to cleaning up the bottles and pebbles.
"That's all for today," he said when everyone had gathered around him.
People were putting their wands away and talking boisterously about the duels.
"One moment," the professor said sharply. "As excellent a tutor as Potter appears to be," she said, "it is very clear that he has neglected to discuss basic wand safety with you."
Harry looked at her doubtfully.
"A wand be never be used to keep one's hair up," Green snapped, eyeing Luna Lovegood.
Zacharias Smith had a miserable 'I just knew it' look.
"You should never, ever, tuck a wand in you back pocket," she barked, "knew someone who lost a buttock that way. Knew a wizard who used to keep his wand in his front pocket. It wouldn't do in polite society to discuss the twiddley bits he scorched, I'll tell you."
Several students, looking horrified, were yanking their wands out and holding them at arms' length.
It can't be, Harry thought, it can't. He reconsidered. Well, actually, it could.
"Right," Harry said with a badly concealed grin. "Everyone got their wands stowed? Buttocks still on? Any scorching? Great! Meeting's over."
The D.A. fled, except for the Weasleys and Hermione. Ron was staring curiously at Harry. Ginny and Hermione were looking speculatively at the new professor.
A lock of Professor Green's hair turned lime green for instant then shifted to bubblegum pink before fading to dark green. She grinned at them.
"Wotcher, Tonks," Harry smiled quietly.
The students crowded around her.
"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.
"Defense professor," Tonks shrugged. "The Ministry wanted an Auror placed at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore needed the Defense position filled.
"I'm too junior to get anything interesting," she added, rolling her eyes.
"Don't be so sure," Hermione pointed out. "The only professor we've had who managed a year unscathed was Remus Lupin."
"Not much of a challenge there, considering the other professors you've had," Tonks grinned. "I really do have to go. But once the term begins, we'll try to find some time for a gab. Not a word about this to anyone. I'm Professor Green."
"All right, Professor," Harry said. He thought of something. "Why did you send me a letter if you're going to be here?"
Tonks tapped the side of her nose significantly. "Wouldn't do to have special meetings with you regularly. It's suspicious."
"Oh," Harry said.
With a little wave goodbye, she strode off, complaining in a loud voice about the laxity of modern education.
"It's going to be a strange year, I think," Hermione said.
"Everything is upside down. Who would've thought we'd be here during summer?" Ron said lightly. "Next thing you know, we'll be on a beach in Madagascar for the Fall Term."
They all stared at him.
"Was that a joke?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron blinked. "Y-yes!" he sputtered, "of course!"
"It was nothing, Hermione," Harry assured her. "I mean, really, it's mad."
"I suppose it is," she agreed, looking at Ron with a fond smile.
"Let's go down the lake," Ron suggested, gazing at her adoringly.
Ginny crinkled her nose.
"I'm going to the kitchens," Harry said. "I'm starving. I'll catch up to you two later."
Ron looked uncomfortable.
"You're welcome to come, Harry," Hermione said anxiously.
"So long, Hermione," Ginny said with a grin, catching Harry by the arm, "Come on, Harry, you owe me breakfast. You made me miss mine."
"Thanks," Harry told her, once Ron and Hermione were out of earshot.
"Damn awkward, relationships," Ginny said. "Everything's always changing."
"Yes," Harry agreed fervently.
"How are you with those two getting together?" she asked bluntly.
"I'm glad for them," Harry said, "but it's…strange."
"You ought to look around," Ginny said, "and find someone to distract yourself with. There's a lot of girls here would swoon if you as much as talked to them."
"Me?"
"Yes, you, Harry Potter," she said. "The sad, wounded, lost-looking hero with endearingly messy hair. Got you Cho, didn't it?"
Harry stopped walking and looked at her.
"Is that what Cho thought? Is that what you think?" he asked stiffly.
"You didn't notice that she was looking for someone to cry with?"
"I noticed," Harry said with a grimace. "And you?"
"Why do you care what I think?" she asked casually.
"I just do."
"Well," Ginny said slowly, "I think that you're the guy that takes me seriously."
Harry blinked. "I wasn't expecting that," he admitted. He stared at his trainers. "I-I'm not looking for a distraction," he said quietly to his feet, "I'm looking for—"
"Harry, might I have a word?" Albus Dumbledore said solemnly.
Harry, startled, jerked his head up, and felt his ears grow warm.
"We'll finish this conversation, Harry," Ginny promised. "I'll be just over there. If you'll excuse me, Headmaster."
"Of course. Thank you for your patience, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, his eyes never leaving Harry.
"I thought it best, Harry, if I spoke to you in a less formal environment than my office," Dumbledore said after a moment. "Professor Snape has reported to me that you threatened him."
"I did."
"Harry, please be aware that all of us, and you in particular, are under intense scrutiny. A false step now could cause incalculable devastation."
"I'm to let him bully me and my friends?" Harry asked bitterly.
"Professor Snape, however lacking in the social graces, is not a bully, Harry."
"He is!" Harry disagreed angrily. "I can recognize them. I've lived with three of them since I was one."
Dumbledore did not respond; he simply watched Harry.
"What's a few more years of nasty comments and detentions compared to the good of the world and all that," Harry said sarcastically. "I should be well used to it by now, shouldn't I?"
"What others say about you doesn't change who you are," Dumbledore said gently. "None of it matters in the slightest."
Harry was struck by the realization that Dumbledore had no idea what a bully was. Had Albus Dumbledore ever been mistreated? Abused? Did he really understand what the Dursleys did to the baby that Dumbledore himself had left on their doorstep? Did Dumbledore grasp what Snape had been doing to him for nearly six years?
Harry felt the wrenching need to make him see, to make him understand. His throat tight, he started to talk.
"M-my earliest memories are of Dudley's hands reaching through the bars of my crib to pinch me. I remember waking up screaming from a nightmare about a sickly green light, and Aunt Petunia getting out of bed to scream at me for waking Uncle Vernon, a-a-and her locking me up in the cupboard under the stairs for the first time. I think I was four. Dudley was laughing."
Harry looked away and ducked his head, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. "I will hex Snape. Don't tell me it's nothing," he said quietly, staring at the grass. "Don't you dare say that. You haven't the right."
There was a long silence. Harry looked up into the stricken face of Albus Dumbledore.
"And what you said about Sirius and Snape last year, sir, you were wrong. Words do hurt, Professor. I think they can kill."
It was the first time Harry had ever seen Albus Dumbledore at a loss for words. "Harry, I—" Dumbledore fumbled, "I didn't...I…I will speak to Professor Snape."
Harry simply stared at the ground.
"No one," Dumbledore said, sounding angry, "will hurt you again if it is within my power to stop it. Harry, please look at me."
Harry looked at him.
"I promise you," Dumbledore said.
The Headmaster turned and strode away. Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there. He didn't hear Ginny come back
"Come on, Harry" she told him quietly, taking his hand, "I'll bet Dobby can find some treacle tarts for us."
Harry nodded mutely and allowed himself to be pulled along.
TBC
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A/N: Thanks for the reviews!
I had intended to post this weeks ago, but it went through a major rewrite or two.
This chapter came out far different than I intended. I can't keep seem to keep Harry and Ginny apart for very long. Not to be too fluffy, but man, put them in the same room together, and things just happen.
