Chapter 37: The Beginning or the End?
Author's Note: Here it is, the final chapter. The second half is "hot off the press" so please don't beat me for any typing errors.
~*~
Sweet Dreams are Made of This...
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world and the seven seas...
Everybody's looking for something.
[Eurhythmics]
~*~
Madame Pomfrey was by all means a genuinely kind spirited woman. She cared greatly about all her patients and put all her strength into healing them. However, being kind spirited did not mean that she was not endowed with a temper. The school nurse was well known for her strict hospital regulations and under normal circumstances one would have to go through a process not unlike the Spanish Inquisition to be allowed in to visit a patient.
Today Madame Pomfrey was bustling about even more than usual as Professor Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and of course Harry Potter were shepherded into her infirmary- her own little flock of patients. The metaphor quite suited Madame Pomfrey, though unfortunately for her this flock was often wandering off into trouble.
She began issuing orders immediately, assigning each of them to a bed and ignoring the protests from a few that they weren't hurt. Professor Snape was given a restorative drought immediately and ordered to lie down. He had refused to go to sleep yet though. She shoved a block of chocolate onto a table between Ron and Hermione, ordering them to eat it. Ginny was made to lie down as well while the nurse tended to Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she said while shaking her head. "How is it that you manage to end up in my infirmary so often?"
"By way of my good luck," Harry offered, only bemused by her stern manner now.
She gave him another look, "It's not something to be taken lightly, Potter. You shouldn't wind up here so often."
He shrugged, "It's better than being dead."
"Well, let's have a look at you," she said with a sigh as she drew the curtains around his bed.
Once the curtain was closed, Pomfrey ordered him to remove his shirt as well. Everyone on the other side of the curtain could hear her tsking as she examined his injuries. She applied a cool balm to his many bruises which caused most of them to fade to a sickly greenish hue. She repaired his cut lip and mended a scraped elbow, tut-tutting all the while. These treatments were followed by a large dose of pepper up potion. (Harry could quite literally feel the steam pouring out of his ears.) The matron handed him a clean white tee shirt. She then threw the bloodied one into a rubbish bin and removed the partition that separated Harry from the other patients. Harry made a move to stand up but Madame Pomfrey immediately forced him to lie back down again.
"Rest for all of you," she said sternly, looking each of them directly in the eye, one by one.
Snape began to sit up now as well. "That goes for you too, Professor," she snapped.
Harry almost laughed to see the sour look on Snape's face, not so much frightening as it was reminiscent of a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The whole lot was given a chance to reassure each other that they were fine and well. Then Madame Pomfrey proceeded to bring a vial of sleeping potion to each of them.
"Cheers," said Harry, raising his vial. Then he swallowed it all in one gulp.
Harry looked around the room once more as his friends downed the potion as well. He also noticed that several of the aurors who had helped in the battle were lying down on the other side of the ward, presumably asleep. He made a mental note to thank them later.
Then his eyelids drooped shut and he drifted away into the blissful oblivion of dreamless sleep.
~*~
One week later Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all more or less settled back into regular class schedules. The only difference was the abundancy of speculations that had come to surround their battle. Rumors circulated the school about whether Harry and Ginny had actually disappeared on the school trip to the village, and how they had been rescued. So far Harry had heard his share of outlandish and amusing rumors.
"And then," he heard one of the second years whispering, "Weasley showed up on the back of a dragon...."
"No, no, that's not right," proclaimed another student. "You see, Harry began glaring until these lasers shot out of his eyes, nearly melted the dark lord you know!"
"I heard the Romanian acrobatics showed up to help out..."
"...a whole Quidditch team riding to the cavalry, can you believe it?"
"An' then, 'e saw this great flash o' blindin' light as god 'imslef lashed down upon evil!"
No one was quite sure of the tale, but Harry thought the school was happy about it. After all, it gave them plenty of room to use their imaginations. The four students involved in the incident did not tend to talk about it in public and all questions were given extremely brief or boringly vague answers. They only discussed it in private late night meetings, which were held in the Gryffindor Common room. The rest of their daily life was spent reviewing for O.W.L.'s, with the exception of Ginny. Instead she was chosen to receive all their moaning complaints about the unfairness of it all. Thankfully she took it in stride and didn't mind helping them review, willing to help out where she could.
"You're a savior," said Harry to her one night as the four of them sat into the common room. She had just helped him locate a paragraph that would allow him to write another two inches for his potions essay.
"I know," she said with a grin and kissed him lightly before picking up her charms book.
Harry was really beginning to enjoy this new routine. So were Ron and Hermione, he thought as he saw them cozened up on the opposite couch. It was nice for things to settle down, to keep a less exciting routine than what they'd been experiencing during the attack on Ginny and him. That wasn't to say that things were completely normal. People still frequently inquired about the rumored kidnapping and any other visits to Hogsmeade were out of the question now, at least until some kind of adequate guard could be arranged. At the moment there weren't enough aurors to spare for school field trips. Recently through the papers it was becoming more widespread knowledge that Voldemort had risen again. Death Eater attacks were forcing people to live in fear once more.
Potions class was somewhat different now, though it was difficult to say how. Snape kept up his usual sneering appearance, but it was slightly awkward for Harry to observe, now that he had seen behind the usual facade. He wondered if the changes were seen by others as well though. Harry could have sworn he'd noticed Snape actually helping Neville with a potion once. This was only once mind you, and the rest of the time you would hardly know about the Hogsmeade Kidnapping and its ensuing festivities.
There was one thing however, with the new routine that Harry was not so sure he liked. This of course was Dumbledore's plan for what should happen when his nightmares set off the distress alarms. Harry wasn't sure if it was a punishment or not. Certainly it couldn't be as one day when coming out of the great hall he'd heard Trelawney's pleas to be one of his chosen confidantes dismissed quickly by the Headmaster. He gave thanks for this at least. He also gave thanks to himself for having finally dropped the damn class this year.
Harry was still continuously having nightmares, though not all of them strong enough to set off the alarms- thank god. Also, he had taken to putting a silencing charm around his four poster bed once more. It didn't interfere with the alarm system, which apparently sensed panic and distress emotions rather than sound, but it also didn't interfere with his dorm mates' sleep. Because some of the nightmares did get nasty enough to trigger the alarms, he had come to experience the different kinds of counseling each appointed professor offered.
Flitwick's policy was to offer him some tea, and possibly a cheering charm, while he told him amusing stories he'd seen unfold over his years at Hogwarts. He had been a professor back when Harry's parents were students and so was able to donate a lot of useful knowledge. Harry's favorite story had involved a prank his mother had helped his father pull off- though she would never had admitted it. He wondered though what Sirius had looked like as a duck, and even went so far to write a letter to his dear godfather inquiring about it. Harry in turn had received a jinxed letter from said grandfather, which had resulted in spending a day with webbed feet.
McGonagall had also appeared when he managed to set the alarms off and deprive his dorm mates of sleep. She often offered him a few biscuits, while reassuring him in an almost maternal fashion. Harry had no doubt now that she really did have a soft side by this point. She had even slipped up and called him "dear."
Dumbledore gave his usual dose of sagely advice, and quotes that Harry found to understand at first. He always followed this up with a joke or two and an offering of muggle sweets.
What Harry would not admit though, was that Professor Snape had become a favorite. He supposed the difference was that Snape was the only one who forced him to talk at least a bit, even if he acted reluctant to comply at first. Professor Snape was not as cold as his outward appearance indicated.
Harry had never thought that he'd be sharing any kinds of feelings or fears with Snape. Even now, he wasn't sharing everything. It was still a shock to see him outside of class and to not feel utterly loathed on such occasions. Harry did find though, that after each of these meetings he was capable of finding sleep immediately when he'd returned to his dorm, whereas when counseled by others he often went through bouts of tossing and turning before going to sleep. Perhaps Snape was slipping something into his tea. He smiled wryly at the thought, nah.
Of course, Harry would never admit to liking any of this, not even to himself. He still felt annoyed when being pulled from his bed on some nights. Much grumbling generally ensued, but was eventually quieted as he followed his professor/counselor for the night back to their designated quarters or offices.
*-*--*
Weeks passed and Harry's conferences with teachers began to lessen in frequency. Also, Professor Snape seemed to be the only one sent for anymore. Harry suspected that Dumbledore had arranged it all, and knew more about the talks than he let on to Harry.
Though the occasions had lessened, Harry's nightmares still occurred. It was the evening before his Charms O.W.L. that Harry was awoken from a vivid nightmare only to find a caped black figure standing over his bed. He nearly jumped back at first but took a calming breath upon recognizing the rather hooked nose. Harry nodded silently, and untangled himself from the sheets and duvet which had been wrapped around him in every which way. He stood up, quietly slipping his feet into a pair of worn slippers and donning his glasses. Snape loomed into focus, nodded in return, and they led a silent march down to Snape's quarters.
The painting outside of the Slytherin Head's suite remembered Harry and Pritchard gave him a cheery wave. He greeted Severus as well but the potions master only gave a grunt in reply. The man in the painting was obviously used to it though and beamed back as Snape gave the password. Stone wall slid away allowing Harry and Snape entrance into the potion professor's quarters.
They both seated themselves comfortably in Severus' living room. Their meetings had developed a routine by now.
"It's been awhile," commented Professor Snape as he handed Harry the usual mug of hot tea.
Harry nodded in reply and accepted the tea with gratitude.
"Things are... better for you?" inquired Snape.
Harry shrugged at first, "I guess so. At least most things are back to normal."
Severus chuckled at this.
"What?" asked Harry quickly, wondering why this would prompt laughter.
"Harry, I somehow doubt that you will ever begin to comprehend normality."
"Oh, I know," said Harry looking hurt.
"No, no," interjected Snape quickly. "It's good. Normality is quite overrated anyway. You're an extraordinary young man, Harry, and it wouldn't do for that to change."
Harry's mouth twitched in a familiar smirk when normally he would have blushed or keeled over from shock.
"Yes, Potter?"
"I never expected to hear you say that."
"Well," replied Snape, "neither did I."
"I know," Harry said with an air of wisdom. "Life is just full of surprises."
"Indeed it is, Mr. Potter. Indeed it is."
"Goodnight, Professor," said Harry, rising and making his way to the door.
"Goodnight," said Snape, raising his mug in a salute, "and good luck on your charms exam tomorrow."
Harry groaned at the thought of an exam and left the older man to his amusement. When he finally made his way back to Gryffindor Tower he collapsed onto this four poster bed, which was quite welcoming. He lay there sleepily; recalling the events of the year, and how many surprising turns it had taken. Despite all the twists, dilemmas, and the usual near death experience, he'd gotten through it.
"Five down," Harry thought to himself as he drifted off "and only two more to go..."
Finis
Author's Note: Okay everyone... How did you like it? I'm feeling a bit nervous now. I can't believe that it's actually over. This seems as good a stopping point as any though. I would like to thank every single person who has reviewed my story over this long process.
I'd like to extend special thanks to Jennifer. Without all of her nagging, pleading, advice, and general death threats I never would have made it this far. I'm just glad she has more patience than I do. (I think I'm going to have to keep her as my personal editor.)
I'd also like to tell you all that I've got a new story in the works. Chapter one is posted already. It's called "Muggleborn Slytherin" for the time being. The idea for the character and story actually occurred to me during the sorting ceremony that I wrote for this fiction. I hope you'll all take a look and bestow upon me some more of your generous comments.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
Wow this is tougher than I thought. I still haven't closed the author's note. But really, this fic has been my baby. I think I've grown a lot as a writer with it. And *sniffle* I'm not as ready as I thought to let go. Now is the time though, for I have to begin the editing process, and move on to future stories as well.
a bientot, mes amis!