The Best Laid Plans
"Now, I want each of you to fill out these questionnaires by Saturday," said Professor McGonagall, as she began Banishing them to each student's desk. "They're meant to help you choose jobs and choose some classes to start preparing for them. I know you have a lot to do with preparing for N.E.W.T.'s, but these questionnaires are of the utmost importance because you will be graduating soon, and if you haven't planned out what you're going to do with your life, you may end up not doing anything at all." She let that sink in for a minute. "Also, on the bottom of the sheet, you will find a list of schools for higher magical education- for you Muggle-borns, that's the wizarding equivalent of college. I suggest that you look up these schools and see if they have courses for what you're interested in." She paused, seeming to be deciding whether or not to teach for the remaining two minutes of class. Mercy won. "You are dismissed."
Harry took his time gathering his books while everyone else rushed out of the classroom, talking excitedly. He wondered what he'd do for a living after he got out of school. He realized that he had never really given it much thought before. Of course, for the past seven years he'd been a little preoccupied trying to keep himself alive. He glanced at the form in front of him.
The first question read: What subjects do you enjoy? Well, that's easy, he thought- none of them! He moved on to the next one: Why do you enjoy these subjects? Hmmm, let's see, I don't enjoy them because they're bloody futile! Learning doesn't make people better, and it doesn't correct things. After that, he didn't even bother reading the rest of the questions. He just shoved the sheet in his knapsack and went to catch up with Ron and Hermione before they freaked out that he'd stayed behind.
Sure enough, just as he was leaving, he almost ran smack into Hermione.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I was just seeing where you were." Hermione was a bit flustered and a little embarrassed that Harry had caught her being overly concerned.
"Well, I'm here." They stood there for a moment, a little awkwardly. "Oh! What do we have next?"
"Potions." She made a face. "Wonder how Snape'll phrase his encouragements for higher education: 'For those of you with a decent scrap of talent for potions- the number of which is decidedly very low- there are jobs available mostly in professions for Healing. I will not, however, waste more than a minute of class time on this, as-' Oh my god!" Hermione cried. "Snape! We're late!"
With that, she grabbed Harry's arm and started barreling towards the dungeon. Once there, she stopped for a moment to compose herself, then opened the door gently. Snape was in the middle of writing the ingredients for a Role-Reversal Potion .
"Ah, Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, so glad you could take time out of your busy schedules to grace us with your presence," Snape drawled. "Unfortunately, you are supposed to work around my schedule, not the other way around. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and take your seats and try to catch up because I am not repeating anything." He turned and began writing once more.
Ron gave them a look. He was not happy about Gryffindor losing any points because the competition for the House Cup had been especially hard this year, just as it had been for the Quidditch Cup. Ron would not be able to stand it if Slytherin won both. He shuddered and tried to clear his head of those unhappy thoughts.
Harry and Hermione dumped their bags on the floor and slipped into their seats. "So, what exciting potion are we brewing today?" Harry whispered to Ron. He was immediately sorry because at that moment, Snape had paused almost imperceptibly, but then continued writing. Ron sighed and shot Harry another look, then took out a piece of parchment.
Write on this instead of talking, you dolt. We're doing a Role-Reversal Potion. You brew it up, put someone's hair in it, then drink it. It makes you able to think about things from the other person's perspective while still keeping your own thoughts. It's usually used in anger management therapy, you know, to help people understand other people's points of view better so they won't get angry. It's actually kind of cool.
Ron handed the parchment over to Harry, who read it and nodded in silent thanks. With nothing left to distract them, they turned their attention back to Snape just in time to hear the end of his annoying speech.
"-will be working with one partner, obviously. I will be pairing you up with that person. Please adhere to the measurements on the board- they are set up specifically to make the potion last for fifteen minutes only. And, of course, follow the instructions carefully, or you could end up poisoning yourself. For homework, you will write an essay hypothesizing about the unknown substance, which must be at least one foot long. Begin."
"Well, wasn't that a happy note to end with?" Harry remarked to Ron wryly.
"Yeah, sure, that's great. Can we just get on with this stupid potion already?"
Harry was surprised. "What happened to you?"
"Fight with Hermione, really don't want to go into it now." Ron saw that Harry was about to say something, so he said, "Oh, no, don't ask me 'when did this happen.' It was recently, and even if it wasn't you probably wouldn't have noticed- no offense, you really just don't notice much around you- so leave it for now, okay?"
"Okay." Harry was slightly worried, but knew Ron would be fine. He looked up at the board and was relieved to find that the potion was not all that hard to make. He heated his cauldron, crushed his dried beetles, carefully cut his boomslang, and then added oil and water to the cauldron. He put the beetles and boomslang in the cauldron, along with a vial of the unknown substance Snape had provided. He had actually been concentrating decently and was even a little proud of himself when the liquid turned an iridescent turquoise, as it was supposed to. He lowered the flame and let it sit for a minute before going up to Snape.
"Professor? I'm done with my potion. Am I supposed to be paired with someone now?"
"You're finished?" Even Harry could hear the shock in Snape's voice, which was unusual because Snape was always very composed. "Let me see," he sneered, but there was just a twinge of curiosity to it. Harry led him to the bench and showed him the cauldron.
"It is the right color and-" he spooned some of it up then let it fall gently back in "-the right texture. A large improvement over your other potion failures. You may begin your homework until someone else finish-"
The Professor didn't get to finish his sentence, because sparks were flying from Neville Longbottom's corner of the room. Snape strode over and said something to Neville very quietly. Neville put out his flame and walked into Snape's office, with Snape following behind him.
The class was silent for a moment, staring, then most of the students returned to their work. Unfortunately, not all of them did.
"Wonder what Snape'll give him this time," Draco Malfoy said loudly, although not loudly enough to be heard by Snape himself. "Hopefully a lesson in actually doing something right!" He laughed unkindly.
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy." Harry hated it even more now when Malfoy made fun of Neville. Neville had gone though so much and was still sane (as opposed to his parents, sadly). Malfoy, the little pampered jerk, had never had to deal with half of what Neville had. "Just because you're a spoiled, pompous jerk doesn't mean you have to act that way whenever you can."
"But if I didn't, then I wouldn't be such a jerk, now would I? And that would be a terrible loss to the world."
"And why, pray tell, would that be such a loss?"
"Everyone's always so nice, so understanding- if I didn't criticize people and make them realize their faults, who would?"
"Ah, yes, what a martyr you are, providing this invaluable service to people who really don't care for it."
"Exactly. I knew you'd see my point," Malfoy said smugly. Harry was about to argue further, but Snape and Neville returned.
"Is everyone done with their potions?" He asked. They all nodded. "Good. Now for the pairings:" he looked down at the list.
"Abbott and Goyle!" (both looked repulsed)
"Granger and Bulstrode!" (Hermione grimaced)
"Malfoy and... (Harry prepared to get up, as Snape always chose them to pair each other) Weasley!" Ron looked very surprised and very angry, but he got up and brought his cauldron over to Malfoy.
"Potter and Parkinson!" Harry's first feeling was revulsion, but he, too, reluctantly got up. Snape called the rest of the names, and Harry didn't pay much attention except that he noticed Neville was not called. He stuck that fact into the back of his brain to ponder later.
"Hello," he said to Pansy politely. She glared back at him. Fine, he thought, don't have manners, not my problem. They each poured some of the potion into their respective glasses, and added in one of the other's hairs.
Harry didn't feel different for a moment, but then suddenly it felt like he was floating. It was almost like being under Imperious, except no one was telling him what to do. Instead, he heard Pansy's voice. Not quite her thoughts, but what she would think.
'Why do I have to be paired with Potter? Oh, he doesn't seem that bad, but Draco really doesn't like him. Oh, Draco...why couldn't I have been paired with you? Across the room, slivery-blond hair that needs a trim falling in your eyes, sneering at Weasley, trying to put up with your annoying pairing. Oh, how handsome you are. And you've got some guts, too. Well, supposedly Potter has also, but even with all of his adventures, no one ever sees him doing anything heroic, so he could be making that up. I'm so glad you showed me how silly my hero-worship was. You should be paired with me- in potions and in general. Oh...'
Harry desperately wanted to turn off this silly, vapid, shallow little voice in his head, but he was really surprised at the last comment. He detected some anger and jealousy, strong emotions that he was surprised to discover this shallow person possessed. Okay, maybe that wasn't very nice of him to assume she wouldn't have complex emotions, but honestly, to listen to the girl- well, he really was justified in his original assumption. He wondered what Pansy was hearing.
Pansy, too, didn't feel different for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, there were new thoughts in her head. Not her own, but they just seemed to pop up.
'I wish I wasn't in potions. Pansy's annoying, that shallow silly girl. Ron would be a much better partner. Oh, well, only fifteen minutes and then I'm done for this whole ridiculous week. It'd be much nicer if I could be done with my whole stupid life! Y'know, people think 'wow, wouldn't it be incredible to be Harry Potter, he's a great wizard.' Okay, it's kind of pompous to think that, but people do think it. But really, they don't know at all. It's pressure, and it sucks, and it's not really fun to kill people, even if they do terrible things- cause they started out human, and no matter what, that's the way they end. And it's not right to kill. sigh I just want it all to be over...'
At first, Pansy had been quite insulted, but as she listened more, she became intrigued. She even thought she felt a tiny bit sorry for him in the end. If this was really what he would think, then he truly must have killed Voldemort. Which means that he probably did at least some of the other stuff he claimed. She'd never thought it was hard to be him, she'd always gone along with Draco in bothering him, because- well, she never knew exactly what Draco held against him, but she guessed it was a healthy mixture of disdain, hurt pride, and jealousy. Maybe she'd try to stop him from bothering Harry so much. Because really, Harry had even sounded a little suicidal! Yeah, she should definitely try to stop Draco, even a little.
At this point, the potion was wearing off, and both Pansy's and Harry's voices were fading in the other's brain. They looked at each other, a little dazed, then quickly looked away. It was kind of awkward, seeing each other normally right after getting such an intimate peek into the other's thoughts.
"The potion should be wearing off by now," Snape called. "If you are done, you may pack up your things and leave. But remember to do your homework, although if you don't I will happily take a generous amount of House points." Harry could've sworn Snape looked at the Gryffindors at that last comment, but let it go because even if Snape had, there was nothing Harry could do.
He dumped his things in his knapsack, eager to get out of there. "Bye," he called over his shoulder to Pansy.
"Oh? Oh, bye." Pansy looked at him as if from a daze, seeming to see him for the first time. He mentally shuddered. He didn't like being under such a look, so he quickly exited.
Ron noticed him going and wanted to go after him, but he had to clean up first. That git Malfoy had made him so angry that he'd knocked over his extra beetles. And Malfoy, of course, had left immediately to let Ron deal with the mess. It was interesting to see how just a few moments ago, he'd been almost feeling something towards Malfoy that didn't border on hate. But, luckily, Malfoy had been his usual disgusting self and curbed that reaction. Ron shook his head, and at that moment, dropped half of the beetle he had collected. With a grunt of frustration, he leaned down to pick them up, and decided to analyze what he'd heard later.
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Hermione was in the library, having finished first despite having Millicent Bulstrode as a partner. She was reading up on potions, trying to figure out the unknown substance. She hadn't had a terribly interesting time hearing thoughts from Millicent's point of view, but she couldn't hate the girl anymore. She tried to concentrate, but her thoughts turned back to Ron and that stupid fight. She felt really bad about what she'd said, but it would be so humiliating to have to admit that to Ron's face. But then, she mused, maybe that's what a relationship is. Giving up your pride and being willing to admit what you did and still trusting that the other person will respect you. She sighed and closed the book, and set off to find Ron. Damn morals that wouldn't let her put it off.
She looked at her watch- it was just one. So Ron would most likely be having lunch. She took her (rather large) stack of books and set off towards the Great Hall. On her way there, though, she bumped into Ron.
"Oh, I was just going to see you. I have something to say to you." She was surprised and a little flustered inside, though she didn't let it show. She had planned to rehearse what she was going to say on the way to the Great Hall, but now she'd just have to spit it out.
"What do you have to say?" Ron asked. Of course Ron knew what she was going to say- or rather what she'd better say if she valued his companionship- but he wanted to make her squirm a bit. She did deserve it.
"To say-" She paused. Oh, God, this was harder than she thought. "I'm sorry," and she looked straight into his eyes. "I'm sorry for saying that you were a stupid, immature git who is no better than Malfoy." She paused to take a breath.
"Anything else?" His face was stern, but he was really caving.
"And for saying that the only reason you don't like him is because he has money." She winced as she said it. "I really do regret saying that, and I know it's not true. It's just, I was really annoyed at you, and it just popped out cause I knew it would make you angry. Okay, I know that's not a justification, but, you know, it's the reason I did it- I never said the reason was a valid one, but- what are you smiling about?"
Ron was grinning broadly. He had started in the middle of Hermione's self-deprecating rant and just could not stop. But then, suddenly she'd stopped, demanding to know why he was smiling. He couldn't explain to her it words, so he just stepped forward and kissed her instead. They kissed for a few moments, and when they parted, he said, "Just for being you, Hermione. Just for that."
She was puzzled, but decided to let it go. They held hands, intertwining their fingers, and headed for the Gryffindor Tower.
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Harry sat alone in the Great Hall. Well, not alone, per se. There were other people around, just not other people that were his friends. He wondered where Ron and Hermione were. As soon as his brain started thinking of possibilities, he realized that he really did not want to know.
He pondered over Pansy's thoughts. They were a lot deeper than he'd given her credit for, although she really did sound ditzy being so fixated on Malfoy. He was a bit shocked to hear that she'd once hero-worshipped him, as he'd always figured that the Slytherins didn't admire anyone but one of their own. But the thing that intrigued him the most was how forceful she sounded when she wished she and Malfoy were going out. He glanced over his shoulder to scrutinize her, to wonder if this girl was really the same one whose thoughts he had heard.
Naturally, that was the moment that she was looking his way. She glared at him as if to say, what are you doing looking at me, Potter? He moved his gaze across the room to make it seem as if he was looking at the whole room and his gaze had just happened to be on her at that moment. He turned back to his food. Suddenly, he was bored. No, not quite bored- lonely. It was a new feeling, he hadn't had it that much before, but it was persistent. He was just about to get up to get a book so he wouldn't just be sitting feeling stupid when a certain red-headed girl plopped down beside him.
"Hey!" Ginny always sounded energetic.
"Hey," he replied. "What are you doing?"
"Well, now I'm sitting here, obviously, but before I was doing this massively evil potions assignment. Ugh." She made face.
Harry smiled sympathetically, but really he was smiling because her liveliness was contagious. Well, contagious liveliness certainly felt better than depressed loneliness. "Sorry about potions. If it makes you feel better, I bothered Snape today."
"Oh, really? What'd you do?" she asked eagerly.
"I actually completed the potion- the first one in the class."
Ginny made another face, yet not quite so hideous this time. "You suck. I mean, it's really good that you annoyed Snape, you just suck because you're better at potions than me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, it's such a bad thing to succeed."
"Oh, you." she shoved him, but not too hard. "It's not good to be sarcastic to a nice, sweet, impressionable young girl," she said innocently. "She might learn from you."
He snorted. "Ginny, you grew up with Fred and George. There is nothing that you have not been exposed to."
"Oh, too right," she groaned. At the mention of their names, she began to remember all of those darling things they had exposed her to. Oh, well, at least they were funny and successful.
"Oh! Speaking of them, I promised I'd try out for the team, now that you're a Chaser short." She paused to see how Harry would take this- the team was a Chaser short because Neville was in no condition to play. "So, can I try out?"
"Definitely! It's actually good that you reminded me, cause we have a match against Slytherin in a week and a half. When do you want to try out?"
"Um, now?" She looked unsure that he would agree. "In mean, you could finish your lunch first, but I really don't like tryouts, and I kinda want to get it over with."
"Oh, it's fine, I wasn't really hungry anyway." Uh, oh, he thought, she was starting to get that worried look. "I'm fine, I'm just not always starving." She turned and raised her eyebrows when she thought Harry couldn't see. "I saw that," he said.
"Saw what?" she asked.
"Nothing." He raised his own eyebrows a few times for emphasis on the nothing. "Come on, let's go."
They walked outside to the broom shed and grabbed their brooms. It was a beautiful day outside, just warm enough to be comfortable, with sweet air blowing in the gentle breeze. Ginny inhaled deeply. She loved it like this. She mounted her broom and shot off like a rocket. Harry followed, yelling at her to slow down.
He grabbed the Quaffle and started tossing it to her at all angles. She caught every pass and threw it back to him with equal, if not greater, force. After a bit, she took off her robes because it was getting too hot, and Harry did the same.
Then he conjured some moving objects roughly the size of people and flew in sort of a formation with her, seeing how well she balanced looking forwards, at him (representing the other players), and at the goal. She performed remarkably, getting goals from all angles. After a little over an hour, he called her down because he was getting tired.
"So, how did I do?" she looked at him expectantly.
He looked at her incredulously. "Where have you been since Oliver, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, and George graduated??"
She blushed and grinned. "So I'm on the team?"
"Yes."
"Oh!" she squealed, and she threw her arms around his neck. He smiled, too- she was just so damn happy, and he couldn't be anything but when he was around her.
"Sorry to interrupt your sweet little moment, but some of us come here to play Quidditch, not watch people snog," drawled Malfoy.
Harry was about to tell him off, but Ginny got there first. "We weren't snogging, Malfoy, or do you just have such a sick mind that when you see people hugging your mind automatically jumps farther? And some of us came here to play Quiddich, but we're done now, which is very lucky because I don't think I could stand your snotty little ass existing in the same airspace as me." She turned to Harry and grabbed his arm (a little too forcefully, reminding him of Hermione). "Let's go." With that, she grabbed her robes and stalked off, albeit almost dragging Harry.
Draco watched them for a minute, then began flying on his broom. Damn, that little Weasley was feisty. He could have fun with someone feisty, he thought as he smiled to himself. But, of course, she was a Weasley, and he shuddered to think of associating with someone of such low monetary status. Just like older Weasley. He shuddered again, recalling how older Weasley had been able to hear what he would think, even if only for a few minutes.
Hopefully, Weasley would forget it and let Malfoy do the same, but Weasley wasn't one to withhold a powerful weapon like that; especially after years of being the brunt of so many mean jokes.
For a moment, Malfoy almost felt guilty about all the ribbing he gave Weasley, because now it just might come back to bite him in the butt. Thankfully, the moment passed, and he resumed thinking in his usual pompous way. He was grateful that his father could not hear his thoughts, for he would be appalled to discover how much thought Draco was spending on the annoying Weasleys.
He shook his head to clear it. He looked around and realized that he'd flown almost completely over the Forbidden Forest. He turned around to head back to the school. He leaned down to his broom handle, exhilarated with the rush he got from going so fast. God, he loved flying. The air was cool on his face, whistling in his ears, and he was truly happy, which was a decidedly rare thing. Even his usually dour outlook could not put a damper on the beautiful day. He looked down at the forest, in awe yet another time how high and majestic he felt, when suddenly he saw a small group of black-robed figures appear. He swooped down to investigate...