A/N: Hello, everyone! Welcome to yet another chapter. This one gave me some problems and took longer than usual to write.
Jedi Buttercup: About Harry giving stuff away to George – they both knew what George was doing, so Harry cut through the crap, but he let George know that he wasn't about to get anything more out of him. Harry's getting some clues about Ron and Hermione, but he hasn't put it together yet because he's not thinking about it. There's too much else on his mind. Plus, he's a teenage boy, yeah. Thanks for the encouragement!
totallystellar: I think Harry and Hermione have a much simpler relationship than either Harry and Ron or Ron and Hermione. Harry and Hermione are not attracted to each other, but they're at the age where each one might occasionally wonder if the other is. When you're fifteen, you're always wondering if someone likes you, and this naturally extends to any and all friends of the opposite sex. Harry and Hermione are both only children, so I think that each fills a role for the other that neither had growing up. (Dudley does not count as a sibling.) Thanks for continuing to review! Just so you know, you're not the only person to request Parseltongue (see below).
Danae: Hooray, someone else who likes Remus and Celeste! You're also the second person to ask for Parseltongue. Thanks for all the kind words – I hope you find everything you're looking for as the story goes on.
PhoenixTearsp322: Hmm. I'm not sure where I got "leave over" from. I probably read it or heard it somewhere else first. I'm actually from Ohio, since you ask. Thanks for pointing out the typo! I'll get that changed soon. I always reread my chapters several times before they get posted, but sometimes little things like that fall through the cracks. Thanks for letting me know that you appreciate getting review responses! Your reviews are always thoughtful and really fun to read.
One more note before I leave you all alone: ff.net just added something to the "stats" section of everyone's personal page (after you log in). I can now see who has got me on their Author Alert list, and boy, there sure are a lot of people on there that I've never heard from! So all you readers out there, feel free to drop me a review anytime, even if it's just to say "Hi, I like your story." I know everyone begs for reviews, but I'm not trying to do that. If you're an author on this site, you'll know how great it is to hear from your readers. :-) Whether you read in silence or drop me a note, I hope that you all enjoy the next chapter.
Chapter 25: Unmasked
When Harry's eyes first opened the next morning, he instantly and fully awoke. He had not forgotten about the events of the night before, and he lost no time in dressing as fast as he could. In his haste he took no care to be quiet and woke the rest of his roommates. Dean, Neville, and Seamus grumbled as they drew back their curtains, but Ron fairly flew out of bed and into his clothes.
There were few others at breakfast yet when Harry and Ron arrived, but Hermione was already there. She looked pale and tired as she picked at the eggs and bacon before her.
"Any news?" said Ron.
"Not yet," she sighed.
Harry and Ron ate silently while the rest of the students filtered down to the Great Hall. Ginny, Fred, and George all arrived, but only Ginny looked white and worried.
"Aren't you going to tell your brothers?" Harry said softly to Ron.
"No," Ron said, rather curtly. "What's the point? If mum and dad are dead… well, we'll all know soon enough."
Harry didn't think that the wait for the mail had ever been so long. The House tables were full when he glanced up at the staff table to see that Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Thornby, and Bellaton were all missing. With a start, he realized that Snape was absent, too. I thought Dumbledore said he was up and about, thought Harry.
The sudden screeching of owls overhead drove Snape from Harry's thoughts. A small, mottled bird fluttered down before them, carrying three letters: one each for Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. The recipients tore open their letters with little grace, frightening the owl away. All three of them sagged with relief, and Harry felt his heart lighten. Ron held out his note for Harry to see.
Your parents are well. Measures are being taken to ensure their future safety. There was no signature, but Harry recognized Professor McGonagall's hand.
Ron and Ginny beamed at each other, their eyes shining with unshed tears. A few feet down the table, Fred and George were laughing, completely oblivious to their family's peril. Neither Ron nor Ginny made any move to inform them of what had happened. Harry privately disapproved, but said nothing.
Ron and Hermione stumbled down to the dungeons for Potions in a kind of delirious haze. Harry had to stop Hermione from crashing into a suit of armor more than once. She had more cause than Ron for weariness, and as they entered the classroom, Malfoy was watching them all with a look that Harry didn't like at all. "Get ahold of yourself," he hissed at Ron. "This is Potions, and you've got to keep doing well. Besides, Malfoy's staring at you." The double threat seemed to do the trick. Ron's glazed look became more focused, though the giddy smile remained on his face. They pulled out their supplies and sat quietly, waiting for Snape – or whoever was teaching Potions – to appear.
When the door to the classroom banged open, everyone jumped. It was Snape, who was uncharacteristically late. He usually strode right to the front of the classroom oozing threat and malice all the way, but today he walked very slowly. The class was silent as they watched him pass. He was leaning on a cane.
Harry was surprised to feel pity well up inside him. That Snape was alive at all was a testament to Madam Pomfrey's skill, but he moved with obvious difficulty. Harry schooled his face to blankness. Pity on his face – of all people's – would bring Snape's ire crashing down on him like a hawk on a mouse.
The Potions Master finally reached the front of the classroom and turned to face them all. Though his body was injured, his famous glare had not been diminished in the least. "Good morning, class," he said coolly. "As you see, I yet remain to suffer through the torment that is teaching you the art of potionmaking, due to Mr. Potter and Miss Granger here."
Ron and Hermione's eyes grew as wide as saucers. Harry felt his own do the same. Had Snape just paid them a compliment?
"I am fully aware that many of you dream of my unpleasant demise, but I cannot say I am sorry to disappoint you. If you should feel the need to vent your frustration… well, you know who to thank."
Harry had to suppress a smile. Snape had complimented him and Hermione, and he'd done it in the most grudging manner possible. However, this surprise was nothing to what Harry felt at the end of class when Snape graded his Clarifying Potion. "Excellent work," Snape said, and Harry stared back at him in shock. Snape's eyes were narrowed as if he were looking at something that he didn't quite understand.
After Potions, Harry and Ron left Hermione for the Divination classroom. Harry had long ceased to see the class as anything but a prelude to lunch, and their new activity did nothing to change his opinion. Amid clouds of choking incense, Trelawney began teaching the class how to use a tarot deck. It was complicated stuff; the cards signified different things depending on whether they were right side up or upside-down, what cards they were sitting next to, and more. As usual, Harry wrote it all off as complete nonsense, but the class turned out to be a lot more fun than he had expected. Ron, who was reading Harry's cards, turned up the Death card right off the bat.
"Well, what do you know?" said Ron. This class really doesn't go well for you."
Harry prompted Ron to continue, and both of them blinked when the Death card was revealed – again. Certain that there should only be one, Ron turned up a third card. The Grim Reaper leered back at them. "How many of these have we got in here?" he exclaimed.
There was a strangled sound at the table next to them. Harry and Ron turned to see Dean, Seamus, and Neville trying to restrain themselves.
Ron turned the deck over and spread out the cards with his palm. Seventy-five Death cards lay before them.
"And I thought you guys liked me," said Harry. Unable to hold back any longer, the five of them burst into raucous laughter. Professor Trelawney was not quite so amused, and she actually gave Neville, Dean, and Seamus detention before dismissing the class.
By the time Harry and Ron headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, they had all but forgotten the tension between them from the previous night. But when Hermione failed to show up at the table, they began to brood again.
Parvati and Ginny took Hermione's absence as an opportunity to question Harry and Ron, but neither felt like revealing what their friend had not. Ginny was very unhappy when Ron refused, point blank, to tell her anything. "Like it or not, this concerns me," she said. "They're my parents too, you know!"
"This isn't about mum and dad," Ron retorted. "It's about you trying to wheedle a secret out of me."
"Hermione is a Dreamer, isn't she?" Parvati said quietly.
Harry nearly dropped his fork. Ron and Ginny ceased their argument and stared at her.
"After hearing what she said to the professors last night, it wasn't hard to guess," she said with a shrug. "I don't think anyone else has put it together yet, though. They think she's just having some terrible nightmares." She turned to gaze at Ron. "So now we know what Hermione's 'unknown potential' is. I wonder what yours is?"
Ron gaped at her. Harry was suddenly very wary. He had never taken Parvati very seriously; she was very pretty, of course, and she certainly wasn't unintelligent, but as she was so often in company with Lavender… he had always written her off as a bit featherbrained.
Parvati gave Harry a wry look as if she were reading his thoughts. "Give me the right clues and I can put the puzzle together," she said, though no one had answered her question yet.
"There's no proof that the prophecy was about us –" Ron began, but she cut him off.
"Who else would it be about? I read the Daily Prophet too, and they might have forgotten about it by now, but I haven't. I don't take the Prophet too seriously," she said, "because I saw the lies they printed about you last year, Harry. But it all makes sense to me. First we get the prophecy, and that night Hermione sneaks out of the dormitory. Why? To talk to you and Harry, because she thought it was about you three, too. Second, you start getting high marks in all of your classes. Third, you act like the Dueling Club is a preparation for war. Fourth, Harry saves Snape's life with a spell that no one uses anymore. And fifth, Hermione has a dream that predicts the future. If you aren't showing unknown potential, who is?"
Harry and Ron sat in silence. Ginny looked dumbfounded. "I didn't believe what the Prophet said about the prophecy," she said. "I mean, come on. You're just Ron! My brother!"
"Dumbledore agrees with the Prophet," Ron said flatly. Ginny's eyes grew wide, and he turned to Parvati. "I don't know what my unknown potential is," he said. "Maybe it's nothing more than good grades."
"I think you could've always had good grades if you'd really wanted to," she said. Ron flushed bright red. "No, if Hermione's a Dreamer, then you'll be something else, too."
"I don't want to be," said Ron, "not if I have to go through what she goes through."
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked Parvati quietly.
She smiled at him. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone, if that's what you mean. Not even to Lavender. She wouldn't believe me anyway." Her smile faltered and became sympathetic. "I guess you're not too excited about the sacrifice bit, either?"
"No," Harry whispered.
"I'm glad I'm not you," Parvati said fervently. "Listen, if you need any, um, help… with anything…"
Harry smiled faintly. "Thanks," he said.
She smiled back. "By the way, the Death card indicates a change or transformation, not a physical death."
"Pffft. In Harry's case, I think Trelawney might disagree," said Ron.
When Parvati had gone to rejoin her friends, Ginny rounded on her brother. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?" she hissed at him.
"It wasn't any of your business," Ron growled softly.
"None of my business?" she exclaimed, struggling to keep her voice down. "What about mum and dad? Do they know what Dumbledore thinks about you?"
"Not sure," said Ron. Ginny opened her mouth again, and he rounded on her. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hullo mum, hullo dad. Thought you'd like to know that a batty old teacher's prophecy names me as Harry's right hand man, so You-Know-Who might be coming for me at any minute.' Mum would either think I was having delusions of grandeur, or she wouldn't let me come back to school at all!"
"But dad would believe you," Ginny whispered. Her eyes were full of tears.
Ron's face fell. "Yeah, he might. Sorry, Gin."
"You should tell him," she sniffed. "Someone should."
"Don't do it for me," Ron begged. "Promise you won't."
"Only if you promise that you will when you see him again," Ginny countered.
Ron nodded. "Deal." He went back to picking at his food, and Ginny sat silently, looking downcast. Harry didn't like to see her so upset, so he began telling her about the debacle with the Death cards. It worked; after a few minutes she was back to her old self. When he succeeded in making her laugh, Harry felt a flush of pleasure that he couldn't quite explain.
Hermione had still not returned by the end of lunch, so Harry and Ron walked to History of Magic without her. Just when they thought she might not show up at all, Hermione slipped into the classroom with Professor Thornby on her heels. Harry and Ron gave her wide-eyed, questioning looks, but she merely mouthed 'Tell you later.'
"Good afternoon, class," said Professor Thornby, turning to face them all. She continued talking, but Harry heard none of it. His full attention was on the sight of a long, white bandage that encased her left arm from the elbow to the wrist. Ron was staring at it too, and Harry knew that they both had to be thinking the same thing: Is that a werewolf bite? Yet Hermione was completely unconcerned, and she never missed anything, so Harry eventually calmed down and tried to focus on the lesson.
As soon as class was over, Harry and Ron crowded around Hermione. "What happened?" said Ron, wasting no time.
"To me or to Professor Thornby?" she asked.
"Whichever!"
"It's just a scratch," said Hermione. "No one got bitten, if that's what you mean."
"If it's as long as her bandage, I'd say that's some scratch," said Ron.
"It was werewolves?" said Harry.
Hermione nodded. "It sounds like it was an awfully close call. Professor Thornby went to my house and Professor Bellaton went to yours," she said to Ron. "Dumbledore sent some other help, but he didn't say who."
"So that's where you went," said Ron.
"Well, it wasn't just about our parents," she said. "He's found someone to train me!"
"What?"
"Another Dreamer!" Hermione whispered excitedly, keeping a careful eye on the other nearby students. She pulled a dark leather-bound book from her satchel. "I'm to keep a diary of all the dreams I have, though I think I'll know when I have one of those dreams," she said. "Miss Flavisham is going to teach me to control them, so I won't keep waking up in terror."
"Who?"
"Don't let the 'miss' fool you," she said. "She's absolutely ancient and tough as nails. I think she and McGonagall could be great friends. Who knows, maybe they are, since I think Miss Flavisham is an old acquaintance of Dumbledore's."
"How on earth do you control your dreams?" said Harry.
"Well, you can't, since you're not a Dreamer," said Hermione, sounding a bit smug. "But Miss Flavisham says that I should be able to be aware that I'm dreaming, and awareness is the first step to control. I don't know when you'll get to meet her. She's gone already, but I can contact her through Dumbledore." She went on to describe the breathing and relaxation exercises she'd been assigned to do before going to sleep. Harry didn't see exactly how they would help, but it was better to see Hermione excited about her talent than afraid of it, so he smiled and nodded along. He hoped that this Miss Flavisham knew what she was about, because there was nowhere else for Hermione to go.
**********
Life at Hogwarts quickly settled back into its old routine. The fifth years had plenty of work to keep them busy, the Dueling Club resumed its meetings, and Quidditch practice started up again. Gryffindor's next match was against Slytherin, and it was slated for the middle of February. This was apparently too soon for Angelina who flogged her team through as many practices as she could squeeze into the schedule. "We lost to Ravenclaw. It wasn't bad as losses go, but we can't afford to have Slytherin beat us! Gryffindors won't be able to hold their heads up!" she railed.
"Not to mention that we'll be virtually out of the running for the Quidditch Cup," said George.
"Dignity and the Cup go hand in hand," said Angelina.
Gryffindor wasn't the only team that wanted to practice. Slytherin was still smarting from the loss against Hufflepuff. The fact that their next match was against Gryffindor, which had defeated them for the last four years, only raised the stakes. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were both high on their victories, especially since it always seemed to be Gryffindor and Slytherin in the championship match. They were playing each other in the next match and each was determined to win. As a result the field was continually booked night after night. Madam Hooch began parceling out two-hour slots when the team captains complained about the schedule. This didn't make anyone any happier, but it did stop the complaints.
One Sunday afternoon the Gryffindor team was leaving the field to make way for the Ravenclaws, who had the next two-hour slot. Harry was on his way out with Ron when he spotted Cho Chang below one of the stands. She was partially hidden by the wooden trusses but Harry could clearly see her kissing Will Hodges, one of the better looking Ravenclaw seventh years.
Ron looked to where Harry was staring and frowned. "You'd think they could find a less public place to do that," he said.
With an effort Harry tore his eyes away from Cho and continued back to the school. She had obviously moved on, but Harry didn't understand why the sight of it should hurt him so. After all, he'd barely thought of her since the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match. He wasn't even really interested in her anymore, although she was just as pretty as ever.
Harry and Ron joined Hermione in the library for the rest of the afternoon. Ron settled right into an essay on vampires for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Harry could barely concentrate on his work. He stared out the window, watching the skeletal branches of an oak tree wave in the frigid wind.
Finally Hermione sighed and put down her pen. "Harry, you're distracting me," she said.
"I'm not doing anything," said Harry.
"Right, and it's distracting," she repeated. "Something on your mind?"
"No," said Harry.
"We saw Cho kissing Will Hodges," said Ron, not looking up from his essay. Harry punched him on the arm. Hard. "Ow!" Ron yelped.
"I thought you were over her," said Hermione.
Harry glared at Ron, but decided that he might as well answer. "Yeah, I thought so too. The weird thing is, I still think I am."
"But it hurt anyway," said Hermione.
"A little," Harry admitted. "How would you know?"
Hermione gave him a wan smile. "I had a letter from Viktor yesterday," she said.
"From Krum?" Ron gaped. "I didn't know you were still talking to him!"
"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "We've become pen pals, more or less. Every few weeks we write to each other. The thing is, when last year ended, he liked me in a different way than I liked him." She flushed a bit under Ron's unblinking gaze. "I declined his invitation to visit him, of course. He was rather too old for me anyway. But we agreed to be friends, and we've been writing ever since. In this last letter… Viktor wrote about a girl he'd met. He's playing Quidditch professionally, you know, and she's on the team with him."
"He broke the record for the fastest catch of the Snitch in the Slavic leagues," Ron said excitedly. "Two minutes!"
"Yes, he wrote about that too," said Hermione. "Anyway, he didn't say it outright, but I could read between the lines. He really likes this person – Mariya something or another. I never really had feelings for Viktor, but it still hurt when I realized." She sighed and met Harry's eyes. "It's nice to know that someone thinks you're special, but if it's not mutual… after awhile they find someone else to admire."
"Well, we think you're pretty special, you know," said Harry. Ron nodded emphatically.
"You're sweet," said Hermione, "but it's not the same thing."
Ron drew himself up. "If I ever see Krum again, I'll make him sorry he ever hurt you," he said stoutly.
"First you didn't like him because he liked me," said Hermione. "Now you don't like him because he stopped?"
Ron spluttered. "Yes… well, you see… he let you down!"
"No, he didn't," she said. "Viktor was never anything more than the perfect gentleman. It's just the way things are."
"Well, if he ever does hurt you, I'll make him regret it," said Ron. Hermione beamed at him.
"Come on, it's six o'clock," said Harry. "I'm starving."
They joined the steady stream of fifth and seventh years leaving the library and headed down to the Great Hall. They were talking merrily, waiting for the food to appear, when Ron shivered and looked behind him. "What's she doing here?" he exclaimed.
Harry turned to look at the staff table. At one end was an extra chair, and in it sat Dolores Umbridge, the short, toad-like woman from the Ministry of Magic.
Dumbledore tapped on his water goblet a few times and the Great Hall grew quiet. "Thank you," said the Headmaster, rising from his seat. "I would like to welcome Miss Dolores Umbridge to Hogwarts. Miss Umbridge will be with us for the week to observe some classes, so do not be surprised if she appears in your classrooms on more than one occasion. She will not, however, be involved in the teaching of these classes, which shall otherwise run normally." Umbridge made as if to rise but Dumbledore sat down again. The noise level was quickly back to where it had been. Umbridge, looking quite put out, was left to readjust her napkin.
"A subtle snub," said Hermione.
"Hm?" said Ron absently.
"Honestly, Ron, how can you have missed it? Umbridge wanted to make a speech, but Dumbledore cut her off."
"Is that what she was doing? I thought she was trying to scratch herself." Ron's voice was nonchalant, but he was hunching his shoulders and watching Umbridge with narrowed eyes.
"Dumbledore told me that he was still in full control of Hogwarts," Harry said softly. "Your dad said that Umbridge was dangerous, Ron! Why would Dumbledore willingly give her a closer look than she's already had?"
"I don't think she's going to learn anything that she doesn't already know," said Hermione. "Remember that Malfoy will have filled his father in."
"So? Nothing good will come of this."
"Maybe Dumbledore is making a statement," said Hermione. "You know, showing Fudge that he's not afraid of him."
"Well, I think he could find a better way to do it," grumped Harry.
"I don't know, Harry," said Ron. "Over Christmas break I heard Dad talking about what things are like at the Ministry right now. Everyone's afraid of Fudge. Say anything against him and boom! – you're fired. If Dumbledore says he's in control, then he's in control, but it's not smart to flat out refuse anything Fudge asks."
"Well said, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione. Ron grinned from ear to ear. "I agree. Dumbledore could be making the best of a bad situation. Of course Fudge would try to pin him to the wall."
Harry knew that whether or not his friends were right, there was nothing he could do about the situation. "Just don't do anything to draw Umbridge's attention," he said darkly. "She makes my hair stand up." Ron and Hermione agreed whole-heartedly.
The three of them dropped the subject of Umbridge and turned to other things, but it wasn't long before Harry felt a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. Something made him turn and look up at the staff table. Umbridge was staring at him with a small smile on her lips. Their gazes locked, and her smile widened. Harry looked away, feeling chilled to the bone. Her smile had never touched her eyes – they were as cold as ice.
The prickly feeling returned more than once that night, but Harry resolutely kept his eyes on his plate.