Chapter XI: The Return
"Mister Potter, you are early," Snape said as Harry entered the Dark Arts History room, placed his bag down and sat, not saying a word to Snape. "I have some regrettable news," he continued anyway. "It seems your Driveller will not talk for the Ministry. They have sent it back. You are free to use it; HOWEVER, if it talks once or does anything out of the ordinary, even for a wizard school, it will be destroyed."
At least Harry was hearing some better news than before. Snape placed Malicia who was wrapped up in cloth down on the desk. There was at least ten minutes before class would officially start.
"Professor," Harry said calmly, knowing any hint of attitude would result in him not getting Malicia back at all.
"What is it?"
"Ron will not be in class today."
"Why not?"
Harry hesitated and decided not to lie about it. "He was found unconscious this morning with blood on him. I'm not sure how he is doing."
"I see. Are there any other friends of yours missing class today?"
"Actually," Harry said, "Cho is still in the hospital wing. There was an incident in the Medieval Dragons course yesterday. And, oh, Neville may be late."
Snape seemed uninterested about Cho. Perhaps he already knew about her. "Where is Mister Longbottom?"
"Dumbledore called for him. I don't know what for though."
Snape nodded and continued shuffling papers. He tossed a scroll at Harry. It was his essay that he did the other night in detention. The letter P appeared, meaning Poor.
"Care to explain why you got that grade?"
Harry looked up. Do you really want me to answer that? I gave him the truth in that paper. He's just too arrogant to accept it.
"Poor grammar, poor paragraph structure and poor understanding, right?" Harry answered sarcastically.
"You are partially correct for once."
But before Snape could continue, Fly entered the room along with several other students. They started to take their seats and take out scrolls of homework.
"Everyone, settle down. I'm sure the rumors about Mister Weasley are spreading like devil snare; yet, I have a class to teach. If anyone starts talking when I am doing so, you will be joining Mister Potter in late night detention!"
After that, no one made a sound. The class went pretty smoothly. For once, Harry was able to keep quiet and actually read a chapter in the Dark Arts History book. He didn't learn anything new though, because most of the information was about Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
Once class ended, Fly pounced his hand onto Harry's back and smiled widely. "Quidditch Team tryouts have been moved up to tomorrow! Of course you'll be there Harry, right?"
Harry nodded and waved his covered Firebolt. "Yes. I don't think Cho or Ron can make it though."
"Ah, yes, I heard about what happened to them. Very odd you were near both of them when it happened," Fly said in a devilish voice. "But I'm not accusing you of anything."
"Right… Is there anything else, Fly? I really should go visit Ron."
"Actually, there is. Do you know Elise Wings?"
"Isn't she that Slytherin girl?"
Fly bobbed his head. "Yes. Well, she hasn't been talking to me at all lately."
"We've only been in school a few days."
"Yes, I know. I mean, lately as in since we packed our bags from the old school. We had a fight then and broke up."
Harry laughed while Fly looked glum. "You went out with a Slytherin?"
"We weren't even in Hogwarts yet! But that's not the point. I know she's trying out for the Quidditch Team and the Slytherin House has theirs today. I was wondering… Could you give her this note for me?"
"Why can't you do it yourself?"
"Because, just because. Please, Harry? I'll be in your debt."
"Fine, give me it quickly."
Harry shoved the piece of yellow parchment folded up nicely into his robe pocket. He then grabbed his bag and Malicia and ran off to the hospital wing. Hopefully, Ron would be okay. He tried hard not to think about their fistfight, but Harry really couldn't help thinking about it.
"May I come in?" Harry asked after he knocked on the hospital door.
Madame Pomfrey was on the opposite side of the room kneeling over a boy sitting in the lotus position on the chair. After Harry stepped into the room, the boy's face became clearer, and he realized it belonged to none other than Neville Longbottom.
"Are you all right, Neville? What's wrong?" Harry asked. What did Dumbledore tell you? Or maybe Ron died... Or Cho…
"Harry? Is that you?" Neville sniffled. "Oh, it's awful. They're dead!"
For the first time in a while Harry felt concerned for Ron's well being and Cho's. His eyes widened, and his cheeks grew pale. "Who died? Ron? Cho? Who, Neville, who?"
"No, no, no… My grandparents… I knew they were ill and all. You knew too of course. That was the only reason I was staying with you and Hagrid. But, I didn't really expect them, so soon…" Neville started to cry again, his tears thick and streaking down.
Harry felt a little guilty, because he was truly happy that it was not Ron or Cho. He didn't even feel sorry for Neville; he was too busy thinking about other things.
"I see… Madame Pomfrey, may I see Ron and Cho?"
"Of course, my dear. They are over there," she pointed to the two beds off in the corner. Harry nodded and headed over in that direction. His stomach started to twist and hands shook tremendously.
"Oh, Ron," Harry said, looking over the completely still body. He was alive but unconscious. The bed next to Ron's belonged to Cho's; however, she was not still at all.
"Harry, I'm so glad to see you," she said in a sweet voice. Her face was red and hair all straggly. Blankets covered most of body, but Harry could tell she had a mending cast on her arm.
"I guess you won't be trying out for Quidditch this year," Harry said glumly.
Surprisingly, Cho laughed. "No, not like this. But it's okay, really. I needed to focus on schoolwork anyway. As you know, I am failing Potions, and I'm not doing too well in my other courses."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Well, I can't stay long. I need to go to class."
Cho smiled and lifted her left hand. "Could you hold my hand? I know this sounds strange, but I need to know I am still alive."
Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. "Feels alive to me. Now really, I must go. Feel better."
Without hugging or kissing her, Harry left the room and ran off to the remainder of his classes. The day went by rather quickly. He didn't have to visit Dumbledore that day. It was only required every other day or so. During lunch, Harry had to explain several things to Hermione. He was careful enough not to mention his fist fight with Ron or that Ron liked her. Fly couldn't help it but talk about Elise, which seemed to bother Hermione a bit.
After Harry's last class, he headed toward the Quidditch fields. There, he saw Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and a few other Slytherin faces. In the crowd of people gearing up to try out was Elise. She was busy chatting with Draco who constantly showed her his Silverstar.
"Excuse me, Elise Wings?" Harry asked after tapping her right shoulder.
Draco pushed Harry backwards and yelled, "A Gryffindor! A Gryffindor!"
Five Slytherins turned their heads and started chattering loudly. Elise, however, grabbed Harry's arm and helped him to his feet. Harry then presented her with the note.
"Oh, it's not from me. It's from Fly."
Elise blushed and placed the note into her robe pocket. "Thank you, Harry Potter."
Before Harry could turn around to leave, he felt the sharp blow from a broomstick end smacking him in the face. He grabbed his bruised forehead and looked up at Draco.
"I hope my head didn't scratch your stupid Silverstar," Harry mumbled.
"Speak up, Potter. I didn't hear you right, and I don't think your girlfriend did either."
Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was obviously referring to Elise whom Harry had no real interest in. "Did you forget your hearing aid again? Your mother keeps telling you to wear it, Draco."
Crabbe and Goyle, the two leeches standing in front of them, chuckled loudly. Draco spun around and started cursing at them, calling them strings of slurs and foul names. As he did this, Harry waved goodbye to Elise and headed off the field with his Firebolt still in his hands. I better get to my homework before detention. I'm sure Snape has figured out something to do with me then.
After several hours of homework, Harry rushed to detention where he surprisingly found Snape staring into a crystal ball. It was the same crystal ball that had been in Dumbledore's office the other day.
"Am I disturbing you?" Harry asked.
"Always, Mister Potter," Snape said still concentrating on the ball. "Come over here."
Harry placed his things down and hurried over. "What are you doing?"
"Tonight, I shall see everything you see."
"I don't understand."
"You don't understand many things. But this, this is something you shouldn't know much about I suppose. You've studied Divination?"
"A little bit, yes."
"Well, since you seem so eager to always show off, Potter, I want you to look into my future."
"You call this punishment for me? I'd be happy to," Harry said. I'd be happy to see when you're going to die…
"Go ahead then."
Harry placed his hands on top of the ball and stared into the emptiness. He didn't see anything at all; yet, Snape was waiting for a prediction, so he'd better make it good.
"I see… You and my father… You are very young and are here, at Hogwarts," Harry lied, trying to remember what he had seen years ago. "This isn't the future at all… My father is there trying to show off to a girl named Lily… And you, you are in the air, being teased by my dad!"
"Enough!" Snape yelled. "Very well… You have glimpsed my past perhaps. Now, have you ever shared a vision before?"
"Share? What do you mean by share?"
"Your vocabulary needs improving. It's when we both see the same thing. It's quite straightforward. Concentrate hard on anything you wish. Go ahead. Right now."
What is he up to? Harry thought. But, he complied and placed his hands on the crystal ball. After a few seconds, he saw Snape take out his wand and whisper a word. Harry couldn't tell what he said though.
Suddenly, a chilly nip tickled his chest. Oh no, not now, Harry pleaded with his mind. Not those visions… Snape will see…
A dark forest, everything wintry with glistening cold covering his body. There were two voices nearby, one very deep and the other very high, a man and woman. Green light engulfed the surroundings and then a horrible pitch of a scream. And then the green faded, and everything became silent.
Snape. As Harry reopened his eyes he saw Snape and realized he was still in detention again. At first, it seemed he was very worried but then he smirked.
"A dream, Mister Potter?" he asked.
"Yes, last night," Harry lied; he knew that if he told him it was a vision that his pendant may be taken away, or he'd be sent to Dumbledore to explain it.
"Are you sure? It was quite real…" Snape trailed off. "That is enough for tonight, Potter."
Harry turned his head to an hourglass on the desk and saw there was still grain left on the top of it. "It's early."
"You want to stay?"
"No! No, it's all right. I have to visit Ron," Harry said and grabbed his books. As he was leaving Snape mumbled something to himself.
"That was rather odd," Harry said as he walked back to the Gryffindor Tower. "And he's not escorting me tonight. I don't understand. Why would he want me to see his thoughts? Or maybe he wanted to see mine? Does he suspect something?"
"He doesn't suspect anything about me," Harry said, but it wasn't the same. The words came out of his mouth, but they were deep, very deep.
Harry blinked his eyes and looked down at his pendant. "Did you just speak?" But there was nothing. "Ha! I'm talking to a piece of jewelry. Must have been my imagination. It's getting late, and I am talking to myself."
"First sign of insanity!"
This time, the words were definitely not from Harry. He turned around to see Peeves floating about him. His rolls of fat were tucked under a too tight shirt, even though ghosts didn't really have fat.
"Shut up," Harry said back as he approached the doorway and the picture of the pigs.
"Well, I never. Actually, you never. You never told me to shut up before. Something is definitely different about you. I can see a change in your aura."
"I should tell you to shut up more often then. Go way, Peeves, and bother someone else."
But when Harry turned around, Peeves was gone.