Chapter 11: Hinted Clues
~
A/N: Chapter dedicated to sara*magic for pointing out the little hole in my story that this chapter attempts to correct.
Gilthas: That's nice of you.
Me: Yeah, she sent in a review that was like, 'what is Harry fighting for?' At that point I was like, "Crap!" so I wrote this chapter. It just kind of seemed like the right time to bring it up.
Gilthas: And you forgot.
Me: *hit with newspaper* Shut up you!
Gilthas: *grins* Don't worry, happens all the time...to you.
Me: *glares*
~
Harry opened his eyes. He was still in that blasted white room. He reached over and grabbed his glasses. Sitting up, he blinked as he felt no pain. Shaking his head, she swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He was still wearing the same robes he had been wearing when he was on the street.
He took a step forward and immediately stopped. His head had started spinning again. She shook it off and continued out the door. Once in the corridor, he realized something that he had not seen in his windowless room. It was night.
Silently, he walked down the corridor, the stone cold beneath his feet. He froze when he heard a voice crying out. He turned his head slightly and saw a door to his right where the sound seemed to have come from.
He placed his ear to the door and listened hard. Inside, someone was muttering and whimpering. He put his hand on the doorknob and pushed. The door silently swung open.
A small girl was in the bed. She couldn't have been more than seven and she was clearly asleep, but she was shaking her head vaguely and muttering, "No...not again...stop..." Harry could not tell her appearance very well in the dark, but she appeared to have brown hair and freckles, which stood out clearly on her pale skin.
Suddenly she let out a loud cry and started shaking violently. Harry ran to her side and shook her as gently as he could while making sure she didn't hit him. She suddenly sat up straight, her eyes wide. She was breathing heavily and she looked around vaguely, as though wondering where she was. She started when she saw Harry.
"It's okay," Harry said quickly. He had just then noticed that her arm was in a cast and Harry could make out cuts and scrapes, some quite serious, on her other arm.
The girl was still white and she started to cry. Harry was surprised. "It's okay," he said again. "You're all right now."
The girl shook her head and leaned back against her pillow, tears running down her face. "My arm would never be the same! They said that my bone was shattered and that they would need to put metal plates in it to take the place! They said I—I wouldn't even tell! But it's not my arm! It's not..."
Harry thought quickly. "What if I told you," he said slowly, checking his words. "That I could heal it right now—good as new?"
The tears stopped abruptly. Suddenly the little girl's eyes grew quite wide and she stared at Harry in wonder. "You—You're Harry Potter?"
Harry blinked at the girl's recognition. "I—yes. I am. How did you know?"
"Everybody knows!" the girl breathed. "I heard the nurses talking about it! My mommy and daddy came in when I was still feverish and told me all about what you did at the Ministry!"
Harry held back a sigh. If the news had gotten to this little girl all alone in the hospital wing—which strangely seemed to be made of individual rooms now instead of one big one—then surely the rest of the wizarding world would know...
The little girl was looking at him in awe. "I—I've read all about you. What you did, what happened..."
"Then you know I can fix your arm," Harry said, cutting off his private (and rather unnerving) musings.
The girl nodded vigorously.
Harry pulled out his wand. He looked the little girl right in the eye and said, "Now, you're going to need to trust me. Magic can do a lot of things that technology can't. I need you to forget everything the doctor's told you."
"Done," the little girl said. She giggled. "I wasn't listening anyway."
Harry grinned too, just to make sure she was at ease. He tapped his wand on her shoulder and muttered, "Engourdi."
The little girl gasped and pocked her arm with her uninjured hand. "It's gone numb!"
Harry nodded. "I thought it might hurt a little before I heal it and I don't want you to be in pain."
The girl nodded, eyes wide. Harry placed his wand and the end of the cast and muttered, "Parti." The cast vanished.
Harry glanced up at her and saw her watching him excitedly. For a third time he tapped her arm muttering, "Gueris."
With a flourish, he tapped her arm a last time. The feeling returned to it. The girl's face showed plainly her awe. She bent her arm experimentally. "That's amazing!" She squealed.
"Will you promise me something?" Harry asked her. She looked at him, eyes wide and nodded. "When you get into school, I want you to learn how to do what I just did. Can you do that for me?"
The girl's mouth opened slightly. "But...that's really powerful! I can't do something like that!"
"You can do anything you want to," Harry said firmly. "Promise me that you will? You have plenty of time before you even start school. Then you have 7 years in the training. You can do it."
The girl bit her lip and nodded.
Harry grinned. "What's you name?"
"Elizabeth Wently," she said.
"I'll check up on you later, okay?" he said. An expression of great delight flitted across her face.
"Will you really? Even though I'm all better now?"
"You can count on it," Harry said nodding. "Now go to sleep so the nurses don't get suspicious." He grinned. "Can't wait to see what they say tomorrow."
Elizabeth grinned widely at that.
* * *
The next morning found Harry Potter sitting at a desk he had conjured and writing on parchment and ink that he had acquired in the same fashion.
He was hurriedly writing down a dream that he had had that night. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, continuing to write. It was the weirdest dream. Pausing, he hesitated, trying to remember...
~ He was sitting at Number Twelve Grimwald Place at the table. Sirius came in and sat down across from him. He looked at Harry with a half exasperated expression on his face.
"Gotten yourself into trouble again?"
Harry couldn't remember what he was talking about, though it seemed important. Harry couldn't seem to make himself concentrate. It always seemed peaceful at Sirius's house, especially since he had gotten rid of that terrible portrait...
Harry saw a figure in the doorway. Ron came in, grinning at him, followed by Hermione. They sat down on either side of him.
"It's been a while, Harry," Ron said. "You never knew when you should just sit back and enjoy the moment."
Ron flickered. "I promise."
Harry blinked. For a second, Ron had looked like...
Harry shook his head. He didn't want to worry himself with stuff like that. Especially here at Sirius's house.
"What have you guys been up to?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.
Hermione waved her hand impatiently. "Did I not tell you, Ron?"
Ron grinned. "Never were one for battle since that night, Ay Harry?"
Harry frowned. "Can't we possibly talk about something else?"
"Too late for that, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head. Hermione flickered as well. Harry blinked again. For a second she had looked like...
"You don't think you want to take my class, do you, Harry?" Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully. "I think I want another look at this prophecy..."
"What prophecy?" Harry asked. "I already did that, remember? 'Neither can live while the other survives'? Came and gone."
Harry looked across the table at Sirius. He was watching Harry closely.
"Where are you, anyway?" Ron asked sharply to Sirius.
"In time," Sirius said, grinning. "Years come and go, Ron."
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.
"How long has it been since you've seen a Quidditch game?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Now you're sounding normal," Harry said, relaxing back in his chair. "It's been a while."
Hermione shook her head. "Still don't understand, do you?"
Harry suddenly found himself getting angry. "Why don't you just come out and say it then?" He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but no one seemed to notice.
"Have you learned nothing?" Ron asked grinning. "We're more like an extension of yourself. We're just going over clues you already know."
Sirius grinned helplessly.
"How do you know and I don't if you're only an extension of me?" Harry asked harshly. "And why do you keep talking about random things?"
"Never mind, Harry," Hermione said. "You know you've got the short end of the stick. No need to rub it in."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked angrily.
"Tut tut," Sirius said. "You're going to have to learn to control you temper again."
Harry stood up suddenly. He had the vague feeling that they were talking about something he was supposed to know but couldn't remember. He shook his head when he saw everyone watching him. "I'm too old for this..."
Ron looked exceptionally amused at that. Even Hermione was smiling.
"Try telling him that," Sirius said. "Something tells me he won't care."
"Voldemort's dead, remember?" Harry said, forcibly keeping his temper in check. "I killed him. All those years ago."
"In denial," Sirius said seriously to Hermione who nodded.
"He doesn't want to fight," Ron said. "And I can bloody well understand why!"
"That doesn't change anything," Hermione said. "He can't help it. We're right there with you, Harry. Don't worry about it."
"Everyone but Sirius," Ron said, shooting Sirius a half exasperated look.
Sirius put his hands up defensively. "I'm there in spirit! I'll be there in body though when you need help."~
Harry shook his head. He knew it probably didn't mean anything, but he didn't like having those dreams. He knew he was probably in denial about the whole thing. "I can't believe this is happening again," he muttered.
"Would hate to be in your shoes," said a voice.
Harry looked up quickly. He had been so absorbed that he had not heard anyone come in. He managed a smile when he saw Crocker. "Story of my life."
"No doubt," Crocker said. He suddenly grew serious. "The people know, Harry. They want to see you themselves."
"Are you serious?" Harry asked, dropping his quill on the desk.
"It's only to be expected," Crocker said in what he thought was a comforting voice.
Harry sighed. "It never turns out good when I go to the press."
"Are you just going to leave them there?" Crocker asked, though Harry was sure he didn't need to hear Harry's answer to know what he would say.
"Of course not," Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm just a little rattled, that's all. I had the weirdest dream last night... but it doesn't matter."
"So you did get some sleep last night!" Crocker said with a sly look on his face. "I thought you might have spent most of it awake, healing small children."
Harry looked at him.
"The nurse's scream, running down the hall when she found out about little Elizabeth Wently was enough to wake anyone without sound proof rooms." Crocker grimaced. "No matter. She's obviously doing better. She kept going on about how she was going to learn magic like Harry Potter."
Harry grinned despite himself. "I can be very inspiring."
Crocker nodded. "But that only increases the press wanting to talk to you. You've got pictures all over the newspapers."
"How did they get my picture?" Harry asked blankly.
"Someone was taking a picture of a relative at Diagon Alley that day and got you in the corner. They blew it up times ten and put it next to one of your pictures in the text book so people could see the resemblance."
"Brilliant," Harry said sarcastically. "What do they expect me to say?"
"They probably want to know what you did in Diagon Alley," Crocker said, shrugging. "Of course, you've already explained it to me and I'm not even sure I understand..."
"If I say 'magic' will they go away?"
"Doubt it," Crocker said. "You might need to prepare a speech."
"Oh no," Harry said quickly. "Do you want me to loose all their respect for me? If I had writing talent, I'd write a book instead of defeating Dark Lords."
"Maybe they can just ask questions and you can answer them," Crocker suggested.
"Bet I won't have answers to half of them," Harry muttered. "What did you tell them?"
Crocker cringed. "I...er...I didn't expect it to be that big of a deal, so I...well...I rather told them you should be ready by this afternoon."
"Great," Harry said, not getting himself worked up over it. One thing stood out clearly in his memory of the dream... You're going to have to learn to control you temper again.
The hospital door opened again and a head popped in.
"I thought I heard voices."
"Morning, Grander," Harry said. "Come in and have a seat."
Grander came in and sat on the bed. He looked at Harry for a moment before bursting out, "I'm sorry! I went as fast as I could, but Hogwarts is a long way from the Ministry! I just didn't have enough time to get there and back again!"
Harry was rather surprised. He remembered suddenly what Grander was talking about. He had told him to get help from Hogwarts. Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't have made a difference."
"It might have!" Grander protested. Suddenly he looked quite hurt. "Oh, I see. I'm not stupid, you know. You didn't think I could be of help so you sent me out of harms way, not even thinking I would come back."
Harry's wince gave it away. Grander sighed, looking downcast. "I don't blame you. I'm rather useless when it comes to fighting with wands."
"I just didn't want anymore people getting hurt," Harry said apologetically. "And it's not like I don't think you can handle yourself, but everyone has limitations."
"I know," Grander said, seemingly annoyed that Harry had felt he should explain. "You don't have to tell me I'm useless for me to know already." Grander seemed to know that he had just taken a blow to his dignity but he tried hard to recover it. "I'm a historian, after all. I'm not an Auror—a Dark wizard catcher," he said quickly for Crocker's benefit. "The Ministry of Magic had an elite branch of wizards that were trained especially for the fighting and defeating Dark wizards. They only lasted about two hundred years after Lord Voldemort's defeat. Then there was no more need of them—"
"I know the history of the Ministry," Crocker said, cutting Grander off. "No matter how ancient it was." Harry raised his eyebrows. "No offense," he said quickly. "But 800 years is a long time."
"Don't I know it," Harry muttered.
Harry suddenly looked at Grander again. His eyes narrowed slightly. There was something about him that Harry was supposed to remember. What was it?
Grander seemed to realize his was under scrutiny.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" he asked nervously.
Harry snorted and shook his head. "Sorry. I mean, no, you don't. I was just trying to remember something is all."
Grander's ears perked up. "About when you were in school?"
Harry shook his head. "No, more recent than that. It doesn't matter. Not really." Harry kept looking at Grander though. He knew it must be important. There was something he needed to remember—something that could have a large effect on the battle.
"But about this speech," Crocker said, drawing Harry's thoughts to him. Harry sighed and returned his thoughts to the problems at hand.
"What am I supposed to do?" Harry asked. "Just walk out there and say, 'Voldemort's returned and you don't know enough magic to even start defending yourselves. You're only hope is to run as fast as you can in the opposite direction'?"
"That wouldn't be a terrible idea," Crocker said seriously. Harry blinked at him, taken aback.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, not those exact words, obviously," Crocker said hastily. "But something of the sort. Tell them that the Ministry has the situation under control and if you do see the Dark Lord, it would not be wise to attempt to fight him. You should try to get away as fast as you can."
"But the Ministry doesn't have it under control," Harry said. "The entire Ministry of Magic would not cease to exist if I hadn't gotten Voldemort to leave!"
"But the people need to believe that there's still someone out there that can protect them, or else there's going to be a panic," Crocker argued.
"What about Hogwarts?" Harry protested.
"Hogwarts?" Crocker said blankly. "Hogwarts is a school."
"Hogwarts was the single safest place in all the wizarding world when Voldemort rose the first time. Of course, that was mainly because Dumbledore was there and Dumbledore was the only person that Voldemort feared."
Grander looked incredulous. "Voldemort feared Dumbledore? I thought Voldemort was afraid of you!"
"Well he his now," Harry said, annoyed. "But he certainly wasn't afraid of some punk kid that had managed to get away from him several times because of a lucky chance—even if I was predicted to have the chance to defeat him!"
"Dumbledore must have been really powerful," Grander mused. "Yes, I can see clearly that a long talk is in order. You have some things to tell me."
"But the point is," Crocker cut in. "That Dumbledore isn't here now. He might have held Voldemort off then, but that's really not an option this time. The people won't believe in Hogwarts unless a powerful figure is there to back it up!"
He seemed to have realized what he said.
"Oh, but Harry!" he protested. "Come now! People are more likely to believe in the Ministry than in the school!"
"People associate the Ministry with law. People associate Hogwarts with fond memories of when they were at school. Which would you rather go to?"
"That's not the point!" Crocker said. "We just don't have the man power! It has to be the Ministry!"
"There was a time," Harry said softly. "When Dumbledore was asked to be Minister of Magic. He refused because he wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Do you think he merely wanted to stay here because of the students? No. Well, maybe. Dumbledore was always a little crazy. But he stayed because Hogwarts is more powerful than you think. Tomorrow I will work on putting the charms back up on the castle. The Ministry is simply too big for that kind of protection."
Crocker frowned. "People trust the Ministry."
"People trust me."
Crocker had no argument for that. Sighing, he nodded.
~
Me: Tadda! I always placed a lot of emphasis on dreams in my other story and I wasn't sure if I should bring that into this one as well, but I needed to start giving hints about the final battle. Anyway, I don't think I'll do the dream thing anymore. I doesn't fit as well in this story as in my last one.
Gilthas: Nobody cares, Me. Just write out your little responses to the reviewers. That's all they want to here.
Me: Quiet you!
Gilthas: Whatever. Hey! What do you know? Response time now!
~
keebler-elmo: A club, eh? Or maybe a class of his own...
john: Yay! *is pleased* Thanks!
The Vampire Story Hunter: A precedent! You know, something for future generation to look back on if they have the same situation and have some idea of what to do because someone's done it before them?
Anemosys: Yay! A new reader! Thank you very much.
Rhinemjr: Not probable, no. But possible.
star estrella: Tiny toon adventures come and join the fun! And now our song is done! *blinks* *tries to regain shattered dignity* Right...anyway...
gam: Thank you! Did you know that you were the only one to tell me that? I didn't even want to post because the little 'updated' thingy said that it was last updated 2-13-04 and that's my birthday! But I have to update some time, right?
Prd2bAmerican18: Updated spiffily. Huh, did you know that my spell check didn't just tell me that I must have misspelled 'spiffily'? I guess it really is a word...
Starlight Dreams: Yeah, and you would think that they would have at least retained their medical knowledge! But if you don't know the little things, it's hard to perform the big things and eventually no one anywhere knows enough to perform the big things and then it's forgotten. Sadness...
Sea-Turtles: Ug...don't we all? I suppose President's Day is okay, but it doesn't really qualify. We're going skiing for Spring Break and every chance he gets my Dad points it out to me on the calendar. I like Spring Break because you know when it gets here, you only have 1/4 of the school year left!
WinterWonderland02: Hehe. They all know. Oh, Quidditch is going to be a must. Of course, they don't really have time now. But the magics thing is definitely an imminent possibility.
Dreams of Magic: I don't think it would mess with the story plot too much, but it can't happen. Voldemort wants only his most devoted Death Eaters and Draco doesn't really apply. Not that he wasn't devoted, but he had some personal issues that exceeded his love of Voldemort—like wanting Harry dead for example.
mashimaromadness: That's actually not a bad idea that I hadn't considered before. It does set him off, doesn't it?
insanechildfanfic: Thanks!
bdb869: You would think, wouldn't you? I couldn't exactly write a story if it wasn't interesting... :)
Nasse Himura: Glad you like it! 'Over the top' is a good thing, right? I'm glad that you decided to read this one as well.
sara*magic: You didn't review! Much sadness. Anyway, my sequel's not coming too good. I keep thinking I have it down and the next second I think of something that's stupid in it and I change it to the point of no return and then I have to rewrite it and it's very complicated and it's not coming along too well. Stick with me! I will have it eventually!!!
~
Me: Well that's done.
Gilthas: I think you've actually said everything there is to say.
Me: Yeah, pretty much. Anyway... so I'm done now. I think I'll go eat something...
~
A/N: Chapter dedicated to sara*magic for pointing out the little hole in my story that this chapter attempts to correct.
Gilthas: That's nice of you.
Me: Yeah, she sent in a review that was like, 'what is Harry fighting for?' At that point I was like, "Crap!" so I wrote this chapter. It just kind of seemed like the right time to bring it up.
Gilthas: And you forgot.
Me: *hit with newspaper* Shut up you!
Gilthas: *grins* Don't worry, happens all the time...to you.
Me: *glares*
~
Harry opened his eyes. He was still in that blasted white room. He reached over and grabbed his glasses. Sitting up, he blinked as he felt no pain. Shaking his head, she swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He was still wearing the same robes he had been wearing when he was on the street.
He took a step forward and immediately stopped. His head had started spinning again. She shook it off and continued out the door. Once in the corridor, he realized something that he had not seen in his windowless room. It was night.
Silently, he walked down the corridor, the stone cold beneath his feet. He froze when he heard a voice crying out. He turned his head slightly and saw a door to his right where the sound seemed to have come from.
He placed his ear to the door and listened hard. Inside, someone was muttering and whimpering. He put his hand on the doorknob and pushed. The door silently swung open.
A small girl was in the bed. She couldn't have been more than seven and she was clearly asleep, but she was shaking her head vaguely and muttering, "No...not again...stop..." Harry could not tell her appearance very well in the dark, but she appeared to have brown hair and freckles, which stood out clearly on her pale skin.
Suddenly she let out a loud cry and started shaking violently. Harry ran to her side and shook her as gently as he could while making sure she didn't hit him. She suddenly sat up straight, her eyes wide. She was breathing heavily and she looked around vaguely, as though wondering where she was. She started when she saw Harry.
"It's okay," Harry said quickly. He had just then noticed that her arm was in a cast and Harry could make out cuts and scrapes, some quite serious, on her other arm.
The girl was still white and she started to cry. Harry was surprised. "It's okay," he said again. "You're all right now."
The girl shook her head and leaned back against her pillow, tears running down her face. "My arm would never be the same! They said that my bone was shattered and that they would need to put metal plates in it to take the place! They said I—I wouldn't even tell! But it's not my arm! It's not..."
Harry thought quickly. "What if I told you," he said slowly, checking his words. "That I could heal it right now—good as new?"
The tears stopped abruptly. Suddenly the little girl's eyes grew quite wide and she stared at Harry in wonder. "You—You're Harry Potter?"
Harry blinked at the girl's recognition. "I—yes. I am. How did you know?"
"Everybody knows!" the girl breathed. "I heard the nurses talking about it! My mommy and daddy came in when I was still feverish and told me all about what you did at the Ministry!"
Harry held back a sigh. If the news had gotten to this little girl all alone in the hospital wing—which strangely seemed to be made of individual rooms now instead of one big one—then surely the rest of the wizarding world would know...
The little girl was looking at him in awe. "I—I've read all about you. What you did, what happened..."
"Then you know I can fix your arm," Harry said, cutting off his private (and rather unnerving) musings.
The girl nodded vigorously.
Harry pulled out his wand. He looked the little girl right in the eye and said, "Now, you're going to need to trust me. Magic can do a lot of things that technology can't. I need you to forget everything the doctor's told you."
"Done," the little girl said. She giggled. "I wasn't listening anyway."
Harry grinned too, just to make sure she was at ease. He tapped his wand on her shoulder and muttered, "Engourdi."
The little girl gasped and pocked her arm with her uninjured hand. "It's gone numb!"
Harry nodded. "I thought it might hurt a little before I heal it and I don't want you to be in pain."
The girl nodded, eyes wide. Harry placed his wand and the end of the cast and muttered, "Parti." The cast vanished.
Harry glanced up at her and saw her watching him excitedly. For a third time he tapped her arm muttering, "Gueris."
With a flourish, he tapped her arm a last time. The feeling returned to it. The girl's face showed plainly her awe. She bent her arm experimentally. "That's amazing!" She squealed.
"Will you promise me something?" Harry asked her. She looked at him, eyes wide and nodded. "When you get into school, I want you to learn how to do what I just did. Can you do that for me?"
The girl's mouth opened slightly. "But...that's really powerful! I can't do something like that!"
"You can do anything you want to," Harry said firmly. "Promise me that you will? You have plenty of time before you even start school. Then you have 7 years in the training. You can do it."
The girl bit her lip and nodded.
Harry grinned. "What's you name?"
"Elizabeth Wently," she said.
"I'll check up on you later, okay?" he said. An expression of great delight flitted across her face.
"Will you really? Even though I'm all better now?"
"You can count on it," Harry said nodding. "Now go to sleep so the nurses don't get suspicious." He grinned. "Can't wait to see what they say tomorrow."
Elizabeth grinned widely at that.
* * *
The next morning found Harry Potter sitting at a desk he had conjured and writing on parchment and ink that he had acquired in the same fashion.
He was hurriedly writing down a dream that he had had that night. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, continuing to write. It was the weirdest dream. Pausing, he hesitated, trying to remember...
~ He was sitting at Number Twelve Grimwald Place at the table. Sirius came in and sat down across from him. He looked at Harry with a half exasperated expression on his face.
"Gotten yourself into trouble again?"
Harry couldn't remember what he was talking about, though it seemed important. Harry couldn't seem to make himself concentrate. It always seemed peaceful at Sirius's house, especially since he had gotten rid of that terrible portrait...
Harry saw a figure in the doorway. Ron came in, grinning at him, followed by Hermione. They sat down on either side of him.
"It's been a while, Harry," Ron said. "You never knew when you should just sit back and enjoy the moment."
Ron flickered. "I promise."
Harry blinked. For a second, Ron had looked like...
Harry shook his head. He didn't want to worry himself with stuff like that. Especially here at Sirius's house.
"What have you guys been up to?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.
Hermione waved her hand impatiently. "Did I not tell you, Ron?"
Ron grinned. "Never were one for battle since that night, Ay Harry?"
Harry frowned. "Can't we possibly talk about something else?"
"Too late for that, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head. Hermione flickered as well. Harry blinked again. For a second she had looked like...
"You don't think you want to take my class, do you, Harry?" Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully. "I think I want another look at this prophecy..."
"What prophecy?" Harry asked. "I already did that, remember? 'Neither can live while the other survives'? Came and gone."
Harry looked across the table at Sirius. He was watching Harry closely.
"Where are you, anyway?" Ron asked sharply to Sirius.
"In time," Sirius said, grinning. "Years come and go, Ron."
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.
"How long has it been since you've seen a Quidditch game?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Now you're sounding normal," Harry said, relaxing back in his chair. "It's been a while."
Hermione shook her head. "Still don't understand, do you?"
Harry suddenly found himself getting angry. "Why don't you just come out and say it then?" He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but no one seemed to notice.
"Have you learned nothing?" Ron asked grinning. "We're more like an extension of yourself. We're just going over clues you already know."
Sirius grinned helplessly.
"How do you know and I don't if you're only an extension of me?" Harry asked harshly. "And why do you keep talking about random things?"
"Never mind, Harry," Hermione said. "You know you've got the short end of the stick. No need to rub it in."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked angrily.
"Tut tut," Sirius said. "You're going to have to learn to control you temper again."
Harry stood up suddenly. He had the vague feeling that they were talking about something he was supposed to know but couldn't remember. He shook his head when he saw everyone watching him. "I'm too old for this..."
Ron looked exceptionally amused at that. Even Hermione was smiling.
"Try telling him that," Sirius said. "Something tells me he won't care."
"Voldemort's dead, remember?" Harry said, forcibly keeping his temper in check. "I killed him. All those years ago."
"In denial," Sirius said seriously to Hermione who nodded.
"He doesn't want to fight," Ron said. "And I can bloody well understand why!"
"That doesn't change anything," Hermione said. "He can't help it. We're right there with you, Harry. Don't worry about it."
"Everyone but Sirius," Ron said, shooting Sirius a half exasperated look.
Sirius put his hands up defensively. "I'm there in spirit! I'll be there in body though when you need help."~
Harry shook his head. He knew it probably didn't mean anything, but he didn't like having those dreams. He knew he was probably in denial about the whole thing. "I can't believe this is happening again," he muttered.
"Would hate to be in your shoes," said a voice.
Harry looked up quickly. He had been so absorbed that he had not heard anyone come in. He managed a smile when he saw Crocker. "Story of my life."
"No doubt," Crocker said. He suddenly grew serious. "The people know, Harry. They want to see you themselves."
"Are you serious?" Harry asked, dropping his quill on the desk.
"It's only to be expected," Crocker said in what he thought was a comforting voice.
Harry sighed. "It never turns out good when I go to the press."
"Are you just going to leave them there?" Crocker asked, though Harry was sure he didn't need to hear Harry's answer to know what he would say.
"Of course not," Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm just a little rattled, that's all. I had the weirdest dream last night... but it doesn't matter."
"So you did get some sleep last night!" Crocker said with a sly look on his face. "I thought you might have spent most of it awake, healing small children."
Harry looked at him.
"The nurse's scream, running down the hall when she found out about little Elizabeth Wently was enough to wake anyone without sound proof rooms." Crocker grimaced. "No matter. She's obviously doing better. She kept going on about how she was going to learn magic like Harry Potter."
Harry grinned despite himself. "I can be very inspiring."
Crocker nodded. "But that only increases the press wanting to talk to you. You've got pictures all over the newspapers."
"How did they get my picture?" Harry asked blankly.
"Someone was taking a picture of a relative at Diagon Alley that day and got you in the corner. They blew it up times ten and put it next to one of your pictures in the text book so people could see the resemblance."
"Brilliant," Harry said sarcastically. "What do they expect me to say?"
"They probably want to know what you did in Diagon Alley," Crocker said, shrugging. "Of course, you've already explained it to me and I'm not even sure I understand..."
"If I say 'magic' will they go away?"
"Doubt it," Crocker said. "You might need to prepare a speech."
"Oh no," Harry said quickly. "Do you want me to loose all their respect for me? If I had writing talent, I'd write a book instead of defeating Dark Lords."
"Maybe they can just ask questions and you can answer them," Crocker suggested.
"Bet I won't have answers to half of them," Harry muttered. "What did you tell them?"
Crocker cringed. "I...er...I didn't expect it to be that big of a deal, so I...well...I rather told them you should be ready by this afternoon."
"Great," Harry said, not getting himself worked up over it. One thing stood out clearly in his memory of the dream... You're going to have to learn to control you temper again.
The hospital door opened again and a head popped in.
"I thought I heard voices."
"Morning, Grander," Harry said. "Come in and have a seat."
Grander came in and sat on the bed. He looked at Harry for a moment before bursting out, "I'm sorry! I went as fast as I could, but Hogwarts is a long way from the Ministry! I just didn't have enough time to get there and back again!"
Harry was rather surprised. He remembered suddenly what Grander was talking about. He had told him to get help from Hogwarts. Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't have made a difference."
"It might have!" Grander protested. Suddenly he looked quite hurt. "Oh, I see. I'm not stupid, you know. You didn't think I could be of help so you sent me out of harms way, not even thinking I would come back."
Harry's wince gave it away. Grander sighed, looking downcast. "I don't blame you. I'm rather useless when it comes to fighting with wands."
"I just didn't want anymore people getting hurt," Harry said apologetically. "And it's not like I don't think you can handle yourself, but everyone has limitations."
"I know," Grander said, seemingly annoyed that Harry had felt he should explain. "You don't have to tell me I'm useless for me to know already." Grander seemed to know that he had just taken a blow to his dignity but he tried hard to recover it. "I'm a historian, after all. I'm not an Auror—a Dark wizard catcher," he said quickly for Crocker's benefit. "The Ministry of Magic had an elite branch of wizards that were trained especially for the fighting and defeating Dark wizards. They only lasted about two hundred years after Lord Voldemort's defeat. Then there was no more need of them—"
"I know the history of the Ministry," Crocker said, cutting Grander off. "No matter how ancient it was." Harry raised his eyebrows. "No offense," he said quickly. "But 800 years is a long time."
"Don't I know it," Harry muttered.
Harry suddenly looked at Grander again. His eyes narrowed slightly. There was something about him that Harry was supposed to remember. What was it?
Grander seemed to realize his was under scrutiny.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" he asked nervously.
Harry snorted and shook his head. "Sorry. I mean, no, you don't. I was just trying to remember something is all."
Grander's ears perked up. "About when you were in school?"
Harry shook his head. "No, more recent than that. It doesn't matter. Not really." Harry kept looking at Grander though. He knew it must be important. There was something he needed to remember—something that could have a large effect on the battle.
"But about this speech," Crocker said, drawing Harry's thoughts to him. Harry sighed and returned his thoughts to the problems at hand.
"What am I supposed to do?" Harry asked. "Just walk out there and say, 'Voldemort's returned and you don't know enough magic to even start defending yourselves. You're only hope is to run as fast as you can in the opposite direction'?"
"That wouldn't be a terrible idea," Crocker said seriously. Harry blinked at him, taken aback.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, not those exact words, obviously," Crocker said hastily. "But something of the sort. Tell them that the Ministry has the situation under control and if you do see the Dark Lord, it would not be wise to attempt to fight him. You should try to get away as fast as you can."
"But the Ministry doesn't have it under control," Harry said. "The entire Ministry of Magic would not cease to exist if I hadn't gotten Voldemort to leave!"
"But the people need to believe that there's still someone out there that can protect them, or else there's going to be a panic," Crocker argued.
"What about Hogwarts?" Harry protested.
"Hogwarts?" Crocker said blankly. "Hogwarts is a school."
"Hogwarts was the single safest place in all the wizarding world when Voldemort rose the first time. Of course, that was mainly because Dumbledore was there and Dumbledore was the only person that Voldemort feared."
Grander looked incredulous. "Voldemort feared Dumbledore? I thought Voldemort was afraid of you!"
"Well he his now," Harry said, annoyed. "But he certainly wasn't afraid of some punk kid that had managed to get away from him several times because of a lucky chance—even if I was predicted to have the chance to defeat him!"
"Dumbledore must have been really powerful," Grander mused. "Yes, I can see clearly that a long talk is in order. You have some things to tell me."
"But the point is," Crocker cut in. "That Dumbledore isn't here now. He might have held Voldemort off then, but that's really not an option this time. The people won't believe in Hogwarts unless a powerful figure is there to back it up!"
He seemed to have realized what he said.
"Oh, but Harry!" he protested. "Come now! People are more likely to believe in the Ministry than in the school!"
"People associate the Ministry with law. People associate Hogwarts with fond memories of when they were at school. Which would you rather go to?"
"That's not the point!" Crocker said. "We just don't have the man power! It has to be the Ministry!"
"There was a time," Harry said softly. "When Dumbledore was asked to be Minister of Magic. He refused because he wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Do you think he merely wanted to stay here because of the students? No. Well, maybe. Dumbledore was always a little crazy. But he stayed because Hogwarts is more powerful than you think. Tomorrow I will work on putting the charms back up on the castle. The Ministry is simply too big for that kind of protection."
Crocker frowned. "People trust the Ministry."
"People trust me."
Crocker had no argument for that. Sighing, he nodded.
~
Me: Tadda! I always placed a lot of emphasis on dreams in my other story and I wasn't sure if I should bring that into this one as well, but I needed to start giving hints about the final battle. Anyway, I don't think I'll do the dream thing anymore. I doesn't fit as well in this story as in my last one.
Gilthas: Nobody cares, Me. Just write out your little responses to the reviewers. That's all they want to here.
Me: Quiet you!
Gilthas: Whatever. Hey! What do you know? Response time now!
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keebler-elmo: A club, eh? Or maybe a class of his own...
john: Yay! *is pleased* Thanks!
The Vampire Story Hunter: A precedent! You know, something for future generation to look back on if they have the same situation and have some idea of what to do because someone's done it before them?
Anemosys: Yay! A new reader! Thank you very much.
Rhinemjr: Not probable, no. But possible.
star estrella: Tiny toon adventures come and join the fun! And now our song is done! *blinks* *tries to regain shattered dignity* Right...anyway...
gam: Thank you! Did you know that you were the only one to tell me that? I didn't even want to post because the little 'updated' thingy said that it was last updated 2-13-04 and that's my birthday! But I have to update some time, right?
Prd2bAmerican18: Updated spiffily. Huh, did you know that my spell check didn't just tell me that I must have misspelled 'spiffily'? I guess it really is a word...
Starlight Dreams: Yeah, and you would think that they would have at least retained their medical knowledge! But if you don't know the little things, it's hard to perform the big things and eventually no one anywhere knows enough to perform the big things and then it's forgotten. Sadness...
Sea-Turtles: Ug...don't we all? I suppose President's Day is okay, but it doesn't really qualify. We're going skiing for Spring Break and every chance he gets my Dad points it out to me on the calendar. I like Spring Break because you know when it gets here, you only have 1/4 of the school year left!
WinterWonderland02: Hehe. They all know. Oh, Quidditch is going to be a must. Of course, they don't really have time now. But the magics thing is definitely an imminent possibility.
Dreams of Magic: I don't think it would mess with the story plot too much, but it can't happen. Voldemort wants only his most devoted Death Eaters and Draco doesn't really apply. Not that he wasn't devoted, but he had some personal issues that exceeded his love of Voldemort—like wanting Harry dead for example.
mashimaromadness: That's actually not a bad idea that I hadn't considered before. It does set him off, doesn't it?
insanechildfanfic: Thanks!
bdb869: You would think, wouldn't you? I couldn't exactly write a story if it wasn't interesting... :)
Nasse Himura: Glad you like it! 'Over the top' is a good thing, right? I'm glad that you decided to read this one as well.
sara*magic: You didn't review! Much sadness. Anyway, my sequel's not coming too good. I keep thinking I have it down and the next second I think of something that's stupid in it and I change it to the point of no return and then I have to rewrite it and it's very complicated and it's not coming along too well. Stick with me! I will have it eventually!!!
~
Me: Well that's done.
Gilthas: I think you've actually said everything there is to say.
Me: Yeah, pretty much. Anyway... so I'm done now. I think I'll go eat something...