Thanks very much to all my readers as well, and all your kind comment thus far.
Black Soul, White Heart
Chapter 9 - "Uncertainties"
***
The Thursday of Quidditch tryouts seemed to drag on until time was almost impossible to count. Harry went down to breakfast with the others, tired from a lack of sleep the night before, most likely due to his brain's unwillingness to stop thinking about a certain redhead, and what would happen if she weren't accepted to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Not that that would happen. Not that it could happen, with her talent.
After a slow breakfast where Harry found himself staring imperceptivity at his plate more than once, he and Hermione said goodbye to their friends and headed off to Potions, where Snape, in foul mood as always, greeted them with a sneer.
Harry crouched in front of his cauldron, stirring carefully as he added a pinch of crushed bat's wing to the bubbling bluish liquid. Carefully he counted as he stirred three times clockwise (One, two, three...), then four anticlockwise, and watched as it changed from blue to grey. He glanced over to Hermione's potion, which he was happy to see was the same colour as his own. Hers was bubbling more substantially than his, however. He leaned over to her.
"How do I get mine to bubble like that?" He whispered. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"Just turn up the he-"
"Five points from Gryffindor, Potter. You are supposed to be working on your potion on your own, or are you too dull to understand that?" Snape snapped from across the room, cutting Hermione off.
"Yes sir," Harry grumbled, turning back to his own cauldron. He scowled at the grey liquid for a moment until -
"Keep your eyes on your own work," Snape hissed into his ear from beside him, making Harry jump. Harry glared at him, but kept quiet. He quickly resumed stirring his potion, and adjusted the fire beneath it; ten more minutes and he would be finished, and he could finally leave the unwelcoming dungeons and their ill-tempered master behind.
When his potion was complete, he carefully ladled it into a vial, labeled it and placed it on Snape's desk. He hoped that, for once, he would receive high marks for his attempts, though it was unlikely - Snape's loathing for Harry hadn't decreased even a fraction over the summer. The bell rang and he hastily cleared away his things, and turned to Hermione.
"Ready to go?" He asked. Hermione slipped her wand into her bag and nodded. Together they left the dungeons, and headed out through the entrance doors towards Hagrid's hut and their weekly Care of Magical Creatures lesson.
Ron was already there when they arrived, leaning against the garden fence and staring up the hill at them.
"How was Snape this morning?" he asked, grinning as they approached him.
"As rotten as always," Harry replied bitterly. "Where's Hagrid?"
"Dunno... off to get some creature for us, I suppose."
Just then Hagrid appeared, stepping out from amidst the trees, carrying a cage in his hand. He set it down on the table, and the class gathered around. Harry peered into the cage and saw thirty or so small, brown, pixie-like creatures. Their bodies were knobby and textured like tree bark. Harry thought they would blend in with a tree completely were it not for a pouf of bright pink hair on the tops of their heads. As they clambered over each other in the cage to stare out at the students, their pink hair spiked out at odd angles from their knobby little heads, Harry was reminded of Tonks. Apparently he was not the only one.
"Think Tonks' hair was inspired by these things?" Ron whispered to him. Harry smiled and nodded, but his smile vanished when he remembered where Tonks was now: lying in a bed somewhere in St. Mungo's, perhaps rambling incoherently like Neville's parents. Harry fumed inwardly at the Death Eaters who had tortured them all. Scowling, he turned to Hagrid and waited for the lesson to begin.
"Right then. Today we'll be studyin' these fellas. Can anyone tell me what they are?" he asked, and Hermione's hand instantly shot into the air. "Hermione?"
"They are Occiads. They live beneath the roots of trees," she stated airily.
"Right you are, Hermione. Five points te Gryffindor," Hagrid spoke, his eyes sparkling. "An' what's so special about 'em?" Hermione's hand flung into the air once more, and Hagrid nodded to her.
"If they choose, they can turn a person invisible."
"Right again, Hermione, have another five points. They don't often turn people invisible unless there's a reason to, so I don't suspect we'll be seeing that today.
"Anyway, Occiads like sweets, so we're going te be feedin' 'em sugar. Now, they are usually nice fellas, but mind you don't try to steal their sugar or damage any roots, 'cause they shoot stingin' orbs that pack quite a punch."
"Oh goodie, stinging orbs," Ron muttered under his breath, making Harry's lips twitch upwards.
"There's enough for one each, so everyone come and pick one up and some sugar," instructed Hagrid.
Harry and the others stepped forward to the cage. Harry reached into it somewhat tentatively, and pinched one of the creatures around the waist, lifting it out of the cage. The Occiad didn't struggle, to Harry's surprise, and instead looked around curiously, its large yellow eyes darting all over. When it saw the pile of sugar, however, it reached its arms out hungrily and tried to jump out of Harry's fingers. Harry quickly grabbed a handful of sugar and went to sit down.
He lay against the trunk of a tree at the edge of the forest, his legs splayed out in front of him. Absentmindedly he chucked cubes of sugar on the grass, watching the Occiad scamper about, picking them up and hoarding them in a neat pile next to a protruding root by his foot. When he ran out of sugar, the creature looked at him expectantly. Harry shrugged and showed him his empty hands, hoping to communicate to the tiny being that he had no more. It looked at him somewhat disappointedly, and returned to its pile of sugar, where it began alternately burying and eating the cubes.
Harry relaxed against the tree, letting his attention wander from the Occiad in front of him. A cool breeze ruffled his hair, and Harry felt himself growing sleepy. He closed his eyes. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Hagrid announced the end of class. Reluctantly, Harry got up and returned the creature to Hagrid's cage, before heading back to the castle with Ron and Hermione.
Harry did fall asleep in History of Magic, only to be awoken by a sharp pain in the ribs from Hermione's elbow. She glared at him reprovingly. Harry sighed and rested his head in his hands, and tried his best to pay attention to Professor Binns' droning about the formation of the Ministry of Magic.
The rest of the day passed by in the same mundane fashion. Harry took more notes, practiced some spells, and drifted off into space. Dinner finally came, and he ate lightly, not wanting to lull himself into a stupor by eating too much food. He listened to the chatter of his classmates around him, waiting for Ron to finish so they could go and change and get their brooms for the tryouts.
Once on the pitch, after a long instruction by Katie about how the tryouts would be held, the tiredness that had beset Harry all day was suddenly lifted off his shoulders as the wind whistled around him on his Firebolt. Harry flew a few laps with his broom before coming to a stop in front of Katie, ready to help with the tryouts.
Katie had the group of hopefuls around her, and was giving them instructions. Harry saw Ginny among them. She caught his eye and he smiled at her. Suddenly it dawned on him that he should have wished her luck, but Katie was already directing them out onto the pitch.
"Harry!" Katie called him. Grimacing, he trod over to the captain to receive instruction, hoping Ginny wouldn't be too mad at him afterwards for his forgetfulness.
When he was able to pause between drills and helping his teammates, he watched Ginny. She seemed to take the tryouts in stride, and did exactly what she was told; her jaw set, she executed each exercise flawlessly. Harry never could watch her for long, however, as Katie spent most of the time instructing him to do something or discussing the performance of the candidates with him.
By the end of the tryouts Harry was tired from flying around, helping the others, throwing quaffles and beating bludgers at the group of chasers. He flew to the ground with the rest of the team, and Katie drew them into a huddle.
"Okay... we've got to make our choice. Ginny Weasley is a definite, and I think that third year Matthew Hodgekins has potential. If you agree, please raise your hand." All the team members did so. "Wonderful. I'll go tell them now. You can all go and get changed."
"Ginny will be really pleased. I'm glad to see Katie put her on the team." Ron said, coming up beside Harry as they entered the change rooms.
"She'd be stupid not to," Harry replied, smiling to himself.
"Looks like a good team this year. Think we'll win?"
"Yeah." Harry grinned. Harry went to his locker, and changed in silence. As he and Ron were about to leave to go back up to the castle, Katie called him back.
"What's she want?" Ron asked.
"Dunno. I'll meet you in the common room," Harry said. Ron clapped his shoulder reassuringly, and continued on towards the castle, while Harry turned back to meet Katie. He leaned against the wall of the broom shed, and waited for her to speak.
"Look, I just wanted to tell you, you were right about Ginny. I believed you before, but I just wanted to be fair," she said without preamble. Harry nodded, feeling slightly guilty for his urges to turn her into a donkey.
"It's okay." He shrugged.
"You sure? I don't want there to be any friction between us. I mean, you're one of the best players on the team, and I could really use your help this year," said Katie truthfully, her eyes darting to the ground. "I don't even know why I was made captain this year - it should have been you." At that comment Harry felt even worse, and, sensing that he should reassure her somehow, put his hand on her shoulder.
"No, you're doing a really good job," he said. "I just overreacted because Ginny is..." Harry thought - what was she? "Well, she's my friend." Katie smiled at this, looking both relieved and heartened, and Harry dropped his hand, feeling silly.
"Thanks, Harry," she said and gave him a quick hug before pulling away, looking slightly bashful. "Well, we've got a great team this year. With some hard training we'll be heard to beat. Thanks for your help. I'll see you on Saturday for practice," she grinned. Harry nodded dumbly and Katie walked swiftly up the hill and back to the castle. Harry gazed after her and watched her disappear; out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur of black and red running up the opposite side of the hill - Ginny?
Unsure as to exactly why, Harry ran after her. She was fast, her nimble legs propelling her rapidly across the grass, but Harry was faster, and just as she was about to pull open the entrance doors, Harry called to her.
"Ginny! Ginny!" he shouted hoarsely, out of breath from his sprint up the hill. She whirled around, her hair fanning out around her, and glared at him.
"What?" she said, her eyes sharp and guarded.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"Nothing," she answered shortly. Harry knew she was lying, he could see it in her eyes, in the rigidity of her shoulders.
"There's something wrong. You can tell me, I won't tell anyone. It's not good to keep your feelings to yourself," said Harry calmly, stepping towards her. She moved backwards, keeping the distance between them, and crossed her arms in front of her.
"You're one to talk," she snapped. Harry sighed; she was right, but he was learning, and he refused to let her make the same mistakes he had.
"I know, you're right. I just - I, well, just trust me, okay? It's better to talk about it." She seemed to struggle internally for a moment, her eyebrows knitting into a deep scowl, and then she let out an exasperated sigh.
"I thought you said you and Katie weren't dating," she said bluntly. Harry's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.
"But, we're not. I mean, she's nice and all, but I don't like her that way," he explained, trying to keep his voice as unemotional as possible, but feeling his ears burn red. Ginny raised her eyebrow at him suspiciously.
"Then why are you speaking in private all the time? And the hug... and you touched her, like..." Ginny moved her hand to her own shoulder, mimicking the action Harry had done earlier with Katie. Harry was beginning to panic, but he mentally slowed his breathing, and spoke.
"Ginny, we just talked about Quidditch. She was just feeling unsure about being captain, that's all, that's why I touched her. It wasn't anything more than friendly. Next to her I've been on the team the longest, so I guess she just felt more comfortable coming to me. I promise, there's nothing going on between Katie and I," said Harry, his voice sounding slightly strained, and then a thought struck him. "Why do you care, anyway?" Ginny flinched noticeably, and her glare faltered. There was a long pause between them, and a breeze rolled up the hill, rustling their robes around them.
"Why did you kiss me?" Ginny mumbled. Now it was Harry who faltered.
"Ginny, I'm so sorry about that. I just had a concussion, and I don't know what happened. It was a mistake. I'd take it back if I could. I just really don't want it to ruin our friendship," rambled Harry, his heart jumping around in his chest.
"It was a mistake?" Ginny lifted her gaze from the ground, her eyes now soft, but no less piercing.
"A huge mistake. I'm so sorry," said Harry, hoping venturesomely that she would forgive him. Ginny nodded and her shoulders relaxed, and he saw her take a shaky breath.
"Okay," she replied quietly.
"So we're still friends?" Harry tried again to step towards her, and this time she didn't back away, allowing Harry to peer down at her with concern.
"Yeah, we're still friends," said Ginny with a weak smile.
"Great," Harry said as relief rushed through him. "Congratulations on getting on the team, by the way - I knew you would."
"Thanks." She smiled and Harry thought he saw her ears turns a bit pink, but then her face scrunched up and the next moment Harry found himself in a tight embrace. He hugged her back tentatively as she buried her face in his robes, and Harry felt her shudder against him. He squeezed her tightly then, hoping it would help, but she pulled away, her face stained with tears and her eyes glistening.
"Oh Merlin, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," said Harry earnestly. Ginny shook her head and wiped her eyes defiantly, then let out a piercing scream that caused Harry to jump backwards in fright.
"Sorry," she said bitterly.
"But-"
"It's okay. We're friends, don't worry. I should go back up to the dormitory now," she said a little too firmly.
"Oh, okay," said Harry, his heart dropping in his chest at her tone. She left him then, skipping swiftly through the front doors and out of sight, leaving Harry outside, shivering from a cold wind that suddenly whirled around him.
Harry tiptoed around Ginny from then on. To his surprise, she didn't avoid him, cry or scream at him again, and she was always cheerful, a carefree smile perpetually plastered onto her face whenever he saw her. Slowly Harry's worries faded and he stopped being so careful around her. They chatted comfortably together, both in the common room and during Quidditch practices, and generally acted like, well, friends. With their friendship no longer in question, Harry felt he might finally have a chance of getting her to see him as more than that; and if not, at least he no longer had to worry about her hating him... providing he didn't do anything else to upset her, of course.
Some time in the beginning of October, when the leaves were starting to turn red and gold on the trees in the Forbidden Forest and the sky was stark and cold overhead, Harry was stopped in the hallway by Hermione. She ran up to Harry brandishing several sheets of parchment in her hand, shouting ecstatically.
"Harry! I'm so glad I caught you!" She stopped in front of him and caught her breath before continuing. "Look at this! It's amazing!" She shoved the papers to him, and Harry took them gingerly. He looked down at the first one, which was littered with signatures. At the top it said:
Dumbledore's Army
Unsatisfied with Defense Against the Dark Arts classes? Want to learn more? Become a part of the DA, a student defense association to prepare for the future. Taught by Hogwarts' very own, Harry Potter.
To join, sign your name and House below, and we will contact you ASAP.
Below this the page was filled top to bottom with names, as were each of the remaining four sheets. Harry gaped at Hermione, who was standing looking quite pleased with herself.
"I talked to Dumbledore and Professor Wigram and they both endorsed the club quite enthusiastically. I posted these on the notice boards last week. Dumbledore even said we could keep the name," she explained, smiling proudly.
"But... all these people - there must be a hundred names here."
"One hundred and four," Hermione stated, clearly thrilled. "Anyway, I was thinking we could start this week. Is that okay with you?" Harry made an incomprehensible noise in his throat, feeling all of a sudden that he really needed to sit down. He would have to teach 104 people? At once?
"Great! How's Wednesday?" said Hermione, taking the noise as affirmation. Harry just stared at her; it was quite possible that Hermione Granger was not only brilliant, but completely insane.
"Good, well, I'll start getting the word out. We can go over the agenda and come up with a schedule for lessons later. I can tell you're excited - I am too!" Her voice was cheery, and she took the papers from where they hung limply in Harry's hand. Parchment in hand, she waved at Harry and almost skipped away down the corridor. Harry gaped at the space that her body had filled only seconds before; it was true: Hermione Granger had officially lost her marbles.
It was with much protest and several sleepless nights wondering what on earth Hermione was getting him into behind him that Harry found himself pacing in front of the Room of Requirement that Wednesday evening.
We need a place to fight... we need our old DA room back, only bigger - A LOT bigger. A place where one hundred and four (104!) people can practice fighting and defense, to prepare ourselves for the war ahead. Oh God, help me...
Harry turned around and there was the door, waiting to be opened. They had a half hour before the rest of the students would arrive, but Harry wanted the extra time to prepare. Hermione opened the door ahead of him, allowing Harry and Ron to enter before she entered herself and shut the door behind them.
The room was gigantic. It was, indeed, almost exactly like their old DA room, only multiplied by ten until it was about the size of the Great Hall. In the center of the room stood a podium from which Harry could instruct the others, and which was large enough to demonstrate spells if he needed to. Hermione actually squealed when she saw the amount of books lining the shelves; there were hundreds of them, packed into a long bookcase that took up one short side of the room. The Dark Detectors were there, lining the wall and the top of the bookcases. Harry began to walk the length of the room. At the opposite end was a large box full of multicolored pillows - 104, he assumed. Next to it was a long chalkboard, but no chalk. Harry remembered that Professors always used their wands to make words appear on the board, but he had no idea how they got there. He tried tapping his wand on the black surface, and, to his surprise, words appeared.
Think your words and tap me twice, and upon the board your words I'll write.
When you want your words erased, swish your wand and they'll be waste.
That seemed simple enough to Harry. He practiced writing and erasing words on the board a few times, before moving on. Eventually Harry found himself in front of the stand in the middle of the room. On top of it was his old DA whistle, glinting silver in the bright light, sitting atop a book entitled: A Teacher's Guide to Teaching Defense. Harry put the whistle around his neck, and then eagerly flipped open the book, hoping to absorb the necessary skills from the text in the next fifteen minutes.
Just before seven o'clock there was a knock on the door. Placing the book she was reading back on the shelf, Hermione answered it. Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Colin Creevey, his brother Dennis, and people Harry assumed were his brother's friends strode in the room.
"Wow Harry, this is fantastic!" Colin exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.
"It's so much bigger than last year," Dean said, gazing about the room.
"Yes, well, there's a lot more people in the club this year," said Hermione airily.
Slowly others started filing in. Before long there was a large group of people standing around the podium. Harry was seriously beginning to doubt his capabilities of being able to teach so many people. At 7:05, with Hermione's pushing, Harry climbed on top of the stand, and at once the chatter turned to silence.
It was an odd feeling, standing over such a large group of people, all of whom were watching him expectantly. Harry looked around at all the faces; it seemed that students from every year had joined, and every House; the crowd was mostly from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but there was a small group of Slytherins at the back. A line from the Sorting Hat's song popped into Harry's mind: we must stick together, to save all wizardkind.
Glad that he had had the foresight to prepare his lesson beforehand (or at least Hermione had), Harry focused on a spot at the back of the crowd, gathered up his courage, and began.
"Welcome to the first DA meeting this year," he said, his voice shaking slightly. The crowd clapped and cheered around him. Harry swallowed. "Right - er - well, we're all here to learn defense and fighting tactics not taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so that if Voldemort-" there was an audible gasp around the room, but everyone was nodding "-attacks we will all be prepared.
"We are going to start off with the basics. The Disarming Charm may be simple, but it can be an invaluable tool in combat." Harry glanced around at the crowd, who were still looking at him attentively. He remembered Zacharias Smith questioning such a simple charm last year, and decided to add, "Expelliarmus can save your life - it's saved mine." There was a ripple of excited whispering through the crowd, but Harry, determined not to lose his momentum, continued.
"Er - Hermione will you come up here?" he asked, and she obliged. They stood a few meters apart, their arms held in dueling position. "The words of the spell are Expelliarmus, and it is done like so." Deftly Harry flicked his wand, shouting "Expelliarmus!" and Hermione's wand flew from her hand and into his own. Harry gave her her wand back, and then turned back to the crowd.
"Split off into pairs and practice. Those with more experience please help those having trouble." The crowd did as they were told, and soon wands, books, pillows, bags and even the occasional student were flying around the room. Harry jumped off the podium, and began walking among the pairs, commenting and giving instruction where needed.
By half way through the lesson, Harry was beginning to find that instructing the crowd wasn't as difficult as he had anticipated. Even the Slytherins were cooperating. He wouldn't admit it to Hermione, but he was enjoying himself.
One hundred and four students, he thought as stood back on the podium to end the meeting, now this is a real army.
Mid-October came with a howling wind that whistled through the cracks in the old stone walls and blew tiny twisters of orange and gold leaves around the lawns. The once calm, clear lake was now turbid, its surface rough and dotted with the white peaks of crashing waves. The unpleasant wind could not deter the Quidditch players, however, and Harry found himself on the pitch at least twice a week, usually more, fighting against the angry gale.
In Gryffindor Tower one Saturday, having just showered and changed after a grueling Quidditch practice, Harry headed down to the common room to start his homework. He walked toward the trio's usual corner seats, and plopped down in his favorite armchair.
"Hello Harry." Ginny looked up at him as he sat down. Harry's heart missed a beat - he hadn't realized she was in the chair next to him.
"Er - hello Ginny." He smiled weakly and stared for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Her hair was wet from showering after tryouts, and fell in damp waves about her shoulders. Harry wondered idly why she didn't use a Drying Charm on it. Realizing he was staring, Harry cleared his throat, trying to cover up his pause.
"You okay?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I guess," he replied. To prevent another bout of staring, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out his Charms essay and a quill, then set to work. He glanced over at Ginny out of the corner of his eye, and saw that she too was working on homework. Her quill made neat scratches on the parchment as she wrote, her lettering small and exact, and the sound made Harry shiver. He mussed up his hair to disturb his attention, and went back to his own parchment. When Harry finished his Charms essay, he went on to his Transfiguration assignment, pulling his large textbook from his rucksack.
Five minutes later he was sick of doing homework, and so left the book open in front of him, and looked around the room. Hermione and Ron were conspicuously absent; he wondered where they were, quickly decided he didn't want to know, hoped no one else had noticed their nonappearance, and went back to viewing the room. Ginny was still tirelessly scrawling away on her parchment, but Harry noticed her eyes were growing sleepy, her head drooping forward slightly as she squinted at the page. She yawned then, covering her mouth with her hand to block the sound.
"Tired?" Harry asked.
"Hrm? Oh, yeah a little," said Ginny, stifling another yawn. She laughed. "Okay, a lot. I should probably go to bed."
"Okay," said Harry, a little disappointed.
"Oh, but this essay is almost finished. Ruddy thing, I can't believe how long it's taking me." She pouted and glared at the parchment as though it was riddle that refused to reveal its secret. Harry cracked a grin, thinking she looked extremely cute like that, and wanting desperately to tease her. But he refrained, and offered his help instead.
"Oh, I'm sure I can do it... it's just my head is all mixed up right now. I keep forgetting the difference between blue and white moonstone."
"Blue is to increase emotional balance and insight, and white is for... something about relaxation... oh! White is to help with insomnia," Harry said, surprising even himself with his knowledge.
"Right, I remember now! Thanks." She smiled, scribbled a few sentences on her parchment, and then looked back at Harry, a lopsided grin on her face. "You wouldn't happen to know why you would mix saffron and white moonstone, would you?" She asked, her ears turning pink. Harry snorted.
"Yeah; saffron makes you sleep, so if you mix it with white moonstone you get a pretty powerful sedative. I think it's the base for the Dreamless Sleep Potion," responded Harry with a chuckle. Ginny wrote some more lines on her parchment, and then sat up, resting her quill on the desk.
"Finished!" She said happily. "Thank you so much, I would have been up all night otherwise."
"No problem."
"Want to help me with my History of Magic essay?" Ginny asked cheekily.
"No," answered Harry honestly. "I don't know how much help I'd be anyway - I tend to forget everything right after the exam."
"Me too," snickered Ginny, "But I still need to write the essay. I'll do it tomorrow, though, I need to go to sleep."
"Oh... okay," said Harry, his smile weakening.
"Don't look so sad. I promise you can do my homework tomorrow," Ginny teased. Harry, realizing how transparent he must have been, went pink and laughed softly.
"Okay," he said lightly. Ginny efficiently packed away her things, and then headed towards the girls' dormitories. "Goodnight Harry," she called at the foot of the stairs.
"Goodnight Ginny," said Harry. With Ginny gone, and any urges to finish his Transfiguration homework long vanished, Harry gathered his things and went up to his dormitory. Dean and Seamus were already asleep, their beds dark behind the hangings drawn around their beds, but Harry could see a flicker of light between the cracks of Neville's curtains, and assumed he was awake. Gently he dropped his things into his trunk and slid off his robes. Recently he'd taken to wearing only boxers to bed, though he didn't know why - perhaps it was the way the fabric of his bed sheets brushed against his skin so softly. In any case, half-naked, he crawled into his bed, and shut the curtains around him. He lay there for a moment, staring at the rough stone ceiling, and heard Ron enter the room quietly and crawl into his own bed.
Again he found himself wondering what Ron and Hermione did together. Certainly they couldn't be doing that - Harry didn't think Hermione ever would. But he supposed they would want to spend some private time together; whatever they did during that private time was their business, and Harry didn't really want to know past speculation. Still, he thought it sounded nice to have someone to go spend time with in secret, to talk to or study with or do... other things with. A tingle went down Harry's spine and he shivered, his stomach swooshing excitedly. Maybe one day he and Ginny could spend that sort of time together... maybe.
Trees with leaves as green as emeralds, branches playing with the wind hovered above him. Through this punctured ceiling was a bright blue sky, cloudless and endless in its stretch from horizon to horizon, and through the cracks spilled glorious golden rays of sun. It was beautiful. A shadow covered his view of the heavens but it was not a shadow of darkness. This was not a shadow to be disappointed with, for it was a girl with skin as smooth as cream, face sprinkled with freckles gone dark from hours of sun, hair a curtain of flame enveloping him in its silky tresses. She was beautiful. A hand to her cheek, rough callus brushing it gently, and her chocolaty brown depths met his grassy own, and her mouth descended to follow.
Their lips never touched, however, and her beauty disintegrated into blackness. Now it was a dark pitted archway, lit only by flashes of red, green and silver light. Figures focused and danced to their familiar scene, dodging and attacking... missing, missing, and then... Sirius hit the ground, and his body, limp and lifeless, disappeared behind the veil. Harry ran, ran towards the only father he had ever known, and pulled back the curtain to where the voices hid. He wanted his godfather back; if he could only speak to him...
But behind the curtain was no man, but a place even darker than the room before it. Barren land stretched before him, black and damp and reeking of, not death, but immeasurable nothingness - it was as though every feeling had been sucked from the land. A brisk wind glided across the ground, rustling the leafless bushes on the hillside and whipping around his ankles. Harry felt himself smile. Black bodies began to rise from the earth, and Harry stepped forward to meet them. He found that it was not the ground they were rising from, but jagged, rocky cliffs; the cloaked men glided easily from the salty sea below, ascending to meet him. Harry raised his arms and laughed a high, cold, merciless laugh as hundreds of bodies assembled in front of him. But then his mouth snapped shut, and he turned sharply on his heels, and away from the mass of black behind him.
His eyes flared and Harry felt himself spinning away from the scene, back through the veil and the archway, back beneath the trees and the girl, until there was nothing but deep, coursing anger around him, red and vibrating like deadly fire.
The scream that issued from Harry as he woke was matched in strength only by the pain that shot through his scar. He thrashed and clawed at his sheets with his fingers, howling as blades of fire reverberated through his skull. Cool hands grabbed at him, and he could hear muffled cries, but he only scrunched up his eyes and waited for the hurt too recede.
When it eventually ebbed enough so that it wasn't painful for Harry to open his eyes, he did, and saw Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus standing over him, apprehension apparent on all their faces. Harry blinked and grabbed for his glasses, shoving them on so he could see them more clearly. It was then he noticed he was drenched in sweat, and that he'd managed to scratch his arms and chest in his struggle with the bedclothes, the raised red lines now stinging his skin.
"Harry, are you okay?" Neville squeaked worriedly. Harry breathed a little sigh as the last of the pain abated along with the anger.
"I-I'm fine, it was just a dream," answered Harry. Ron and Neville looked at him doubtfully, but Dean and Seamus padded back to their beds sleepily.
"Everything's okay?" said Ron, his voice sounding as if coming from far away, "no one's been... hurt or anything, right?" Harry shook his head.
"No, it's fine. It was just a nightmare, that's all," Harry assured them, though thinking that was not quite the truth. Still, there was no use getting them worried over nothing - and that was indeed what it was: nothing. Nothing everyone didn't already know about, anyway.
Harry sat up and pushed the pair away from him, standing and stretching against the pale morning light from the window. He shivered in the cool air, and goose bumps pimpled his skin. Ron and Neville were slowly getting ready, so Harry padded into the bathroom adjoining their room to shower away the sweat and the remnants of the dream. When he emerged, he dressed quickly, pulling on his robes to shield him from the cold. Ron and Neville were waiting for him at the door, still glancing at him suspiciously.
"Guys, I'm fine," said Harry firmly as he joined them. "I promise, it was just a nightmare." Ron nodded and relaxed slightly, and Neville smiled meekly beside him. Together they made their way down to breakfast, making only uncomfortable comments about the cold.
Harry eagerly turned his attention towards food once at the Gryffindor table, and filled his plate with eggs, sausages and waffles in hopes to squash any remaining doubts of his health, and fill his growling stomach. Hermione joined the boys while Harry was munching contentedly on a syrup-covered morsel. Feeling thirsty, he reached across the table to seize the jug of pumpkin juice, his sleeve falling back to his elbow.
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, "what did you do?" Harry sat back down and looked at her quizzically, pouring himself a glass of juice.
"Just got myself some juice," he responded. "Thanks for your concern."
"No, to your arm," said Hermione staunchly, reaching across the table and pulling his arm towards her. She pushed back his sleeve and pointed at the long, raised red marks across his skin. "That." Harry jerked his hand away from her grasp and picked up his fork.
"It's nothing," he said.
"Which is why he woke us up this morning screaming bloody murder," said Ron darkly, his eyes full of disbelieving once more. Harry sighed loudly.
"Would you please lay off already? It was just - a - dream."
"Some dream," Ron snorted.
"Harry, is there something you should tell us?" Hermione inquired, "or maybe Dumbledore?" Harry's hackles rose and he gritted his teeth in exasperation. Why wouldn't they just believe him? He stood brusquely from his seat.
"Oh sod off!" he snapped, causing the heads of most of the Gryffindor table to turn towards him. He glared at them all, and then stormed out of the Hall.
Once back in the common room, however, he found himself not knowing what to do, and so he slumped down broodingly in a squashy armchair by the fire. The room was practically bare so early Sunday morning, and Harry hoped it would remain so until much later.
"Back to finish my homework?" a silky voice inquired beside him. Harry sighed, knowing it was Ginny, and wishing he felt more like helping her.
"Sorry, Gin, I'm really not in the mood this morning," said Harry dolefully, staring into the flames of the fire. He heard her shift beside him, but did not look.
"Something wrong?"
"Yeah, your brother and his girlfriend," Harry muttered. Ginny chuckled softly beside him.
"Just be glad you don't have to live with him," she said. "Hermione, well... they can both be a bit much sometimes, can't they? What'd they do, anyway?" Harry turned to her for the first time, and noticed she was still in her pajamas - white flannel ones that drooped slightly on her small frame - her feet tucked beneath her as she cocked her head at him.
"Yeah, they can be," Harry agreed. "I don't know... It's nothing really. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Oh rubbish. It's not good to keep feelings to yourself, remember? 'Just trust me, okay? It's better to talk about it'," she said mockingly, her voice sounding slightly choked all of a sudden, but she quickly returned her composure, and continued. "Stop being stupid, what happened?"
"I just had a dream, that's all, and Ron and Hermione won't leave me alone," said Harry. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him imploringly, clearly unconvinced that was all. "Okay, well, it wasn't just a dream, but I mean, I told them it was okay - and it is! - but they won't believe me." Ginny bobbed her head thoughtfully.
"They're probably just worried, that's all. Anyway, what happened in the dream?" Harry peered around to make sure the common room was empty, and, noting that it was, turned back to Ginny, his voice hushed as he spoke.
"I was... well... I was in Voldemort again, like, seeing everything from his eyes. He was meeting with Dementors..." and Harry knew that's what the cloaked black creatures in his dream were - Dementors. Ginny's eyes widened slightly and she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning in closer to Harry.
"What was he doing with Dementors?" She asked, her voice low.
"I don't know. Voldemort noticed I was in his mind and got really angry and pushed me out before I could see anything else. That's why I woke up screaming - and why Ron is being a prat."
"Well, you can hardly blame him, can you? How would you feel if your best friend woke up screaming like that? Especially after..." her voice broke but she continued, "after what happened to dad last year."
"I know," Harry said sulkily, "I'm not blaming him for being worried, I just wish he would believe me. And then Hermione got all freaked out because I scratched myself and said I should go speak to Dumbledore."
"Maybe you should."
"Why?" Harry snapped. "There's nothing to tell him. Everyone already knows the Dementors have joined Voldemort."
"There's no need to get tetchy, I'm not attacking you," said Ginny seriously, scowling at him. "But if you're having dreams from inside You-Know-Who's head again, then you should probably tell him. I mean, look at what happened last time."
Her words were like a slap in Harry's face. He withdrew noticeably, a pang of guilt stabbing him in the heart. Ginny's hands flew to her mouth as it dawned on her what she had just said, and she quickly apologized.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's not your fault, okay?" She looked at him anxiously, but Harry averted his gaze.
"It's okay. I'm sorry for snapping," mumbled Harry apathetically.
"Harry look at me," she said, and Harry shrugged. "Please," she beseeched him, and her tone was what made Harry turn his head. Her gaze, sincere and pleading, locked with his, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Harry, I mean it when I say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, it was wrong and untrue."
"No it wasn't," muttered Harry, and his hurt was evident in his voice and the guardedness in his eyes.
"Yes, it was," said Ginny sternly. "I was wrong and please, Harry, believe me, it's not your fault, okay?" She was staring at him so earnestly that Harry conceded despite his reservations.
"Okay," Harry sighed, "but there's no way I'm going to take Occlumency with Snape again. He made it worse, not better."
Ginny breathed in relief, "maybe there's someone else who can teach you?"
"Like who?"
"I don't know, but you won't know unless you tell Dumbledore." Ginny shrugged and relaxed back into her chair. Moments passed, both lost in thought, and then Ginny sat up straight and took a deep breath. "I need to work on my homework," she said.
"It's only 8 o'clock!"
"I know, but fifth year, remember? I've got four essays to finish today and a chart to fill out for Astronomy."
"Sometimes I forget how glad I am not to be in fifth year anymore," Harry chortled, his mood lightening. Ginny threw her quill at him playfully and narrowed her eyes.
"Watch it, or I'll have to hex you," she warned teasingly. Harry picked the frayed old quill up off his lap and moved his chair closer to Ginny's.
"Need any help?" he asked.
"Are you offering?"
"I guess I am," Harry laughed, a smile cracking his face. "Thanks Ginny." He gave her back her quill, and made to pull away his hand, but at the last second brushed her fingers and then squeezed them with his own. "Really," he said, smiling. She looked momentarily startled and then grinned impishly back at him.
"No problem," she said sagely. "Now, what did Igon the Gurg do in 1702?"
Occiads are an invention of mine. I wanted something small but powerful, and I just couldn't resist throwing in the likeness of Tonks, and well, they really are cute, aren't they? Properties of moonstone and saffron I found on a few sites around the net, particularly ones about crystal healing (some of which are actually quite interesting). I think that's it!
For those who asked, this fic is also up on SIYE under the penname Nothing, and will be up on The Ink Pen shortly under the penname Nothing. Thanks very much for all your support!