Chapter 17: A New Plan


~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@

"It is a very necessary part of foresight to know that one cannot foresee everything."

The Social Contract, Jean-Jacques Rousseau

~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@


Harry awoke the next morning feeling exhausted. His midnight chat with Dulcinea had made him restless, and he had barely
been able to sleep for the rest of the night. His mind had been endlessly turning her words over again and again. 

"You must develop a plan and lure him to you, instead of waiting for him to lure you in. You must be prepared, Harry."

Pulling himself up onto his elbows, he glanced up at the clock. It was nearly time to get up, so he dragged himself into the
bathroom for a shower. When he emerged, he was shocked to see Rachel lounging on the couch in the Heads' common room.

"Rachel?! Er, how'd you get up here?" he asked, feeling embarassed as he wrapped the towel tighter around his waist. 

"Ginny let me in," she said cooly, turning to face him. 

"Um, so how've you been?" Harry asked nervously as he ruffled his still-wet hair. His other hand clung tightly to the towel,
holding it in place.

"I'm doing fine," she said calmly, surveying his towel-clad body. "I just wanted to come up and say hello, tell you I was back.
I haven't talked to you in such a long time." 

Please don't be mad, he thought desperately. "I know Rach, and I'm really sorry. Are you upset?" She sighed.

"I don't know right now," she said, the peaceful facade finally cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. "With all these
attacks, my family members... murdered.... the funeral, you ignoring me...." So she does hate me, Harry thought as his
stomach dropped. "I met my father last night," Rachel mumbled, trailing off a bit.

"You WHAT?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you okay? What did he do to you?" he demanded. Rachel looked up angrily.

"What's that supposed to mean? He's a very nice man, as are my brothers. We had dinner together. It was nice." Harry closed
his eyes in horror.

"Rachel, they're Death Eaters! You can't be talking to them! Next thing you know, you'll be kidnapped or worse-"

"You have NO proof of that! They're perfectly normal!" she exclaimed, rising out of her chair. "You can't just go around
accusing people-"

"I saw your brothers take the Dark Mark in my dream last year!" Harry argued. "I know it happened, I know it was real!"

"It was a dream, Harry. Get over it," she responded coldly.

"It was real," he said through gritted teeth. "It was not something I made up."

"Harry, mate..." Harry wheeled around to see Ron standing behind him. "Not to listen in on your coversation or anything, but...
not everything you've seen in your dreams was real." He looked fearfully into Harry's eyes. Harry felt a pang of guilt in his
chest. Sirius, he remembered. So that's what he means, just because Voldemort broke into my mind that one time...

"I'm done with this conversation," he retorted, stalking out of the room.

***************************

Tonks was glad to be out of London. Muggle or not, the city now held some bad memories. She had taken the job at the Universal
Institute for Magic, and it was refreshing. Teaching classes was challenging; she was always researching some new material,
grading essays, or designing new projects for her students. After a few weeks, though, the constant activity slowed, and
the amount of free time began to grow. She stared out her window at the pounding rain and thought about what she should do
that night. Maybe I'll rent a muggle movie... wow, this is pathetic. It's Friday night and I have nothing to do.

A sharp rap on her office door broke her from her trance. "Come in," she said loudly. A young man peeked his head around
the doorway. 

"Hey baby, how ya doin?" he asked in a singsong voice. Tonks had to laugh at the sight. Rich Marrion was about her age, maybe
a few years older. He was the Beginning Transfiguration professor for the Institution, and he was always a bit off-beat; today 
he was wearing corderoy pants with a nice sweater and an ugly orange tie. His hair was spiked up as if he had been electrocuted.

"'Baby', huh? I thought I grew out of that stage 25 years ago," she retorted. Rich grinned.

"I'm just joking, you know that. What are you doing tonight?" he asked, looking up at her. Tonks was surprised to see the
first serious look she had ever seen on his face.

"Nothing yet," she said, raising her eyebrows. The cocky grin returned to his face.

"Want to go out for drinks after work? It's been a long week," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Sure," Tonks replied. They talked for a few more minutes before he left. She grinned to herself. I have a date, she
thought giddily. 

***

Remus Lupin was in a bad mood. He had overheard the Transfiguration Professor, Rich or whatever his name was, bragging about
his date with Tonks tonight in the teachers' lounge. The cocky bastard, he thought angrily, throwing some essays into
his briefcase. He sighed to himself. He knew why he felt this way. I should have asked her first, he told himself calmly.
It's my own fault. He closed his briefcase and left, locking his office door behind him. He's her age, that's why.
I'm too old for her.

*****************************

"...so then she tells me she thinks my dreams are fake and that her brothers really aren't Death Eaters!" Harry exclaimed,
retelling the story from that morning to Hermione, one of the few people close to him who he was still talking to. He was
so angry with Ron for bringing up Sirius, that he had stopped communicating with him completely. Rachel was still so mad
that he had suggested her family was full of Death Eaters that she had not even looked at Harry since that morning. 

"Well, I think your dream was real," Hermione spoke up. Harry felt relief rush through his body.

"Thanks, now at least one of my friends doesn't think I'm crazy..."

"Personally, I don't think you should be worried about Rachel, I think you should be worried about Voldemort," Hermione
said bluntly. 

"I'm always worried about Voldemort, what do you want me to do?" he asked her, feeling irritated. Hermione sighed.

"I don't know Harry, maybe you should be taking extra Defense lessons or something. How can you possibly just sit here and
wait?" she said helplessly. A lightbulb went on in Harry's head: Dulcinea had been talking about this exact subject last night.

"Well, you know that ghost that talks to me in my dreams..." He glanced around to make sure no one was listening; if they
were, they would probably think he was even more insane than they had thought before. Luckily, that corner of the library was
empty."Well, she told me I should have a plan. Be prepared." Hermione nodded, a smile appearing on her face.

"Exactly what I was saying, Harry!" she exclaimed happily.

"She... she also said I should plan the battle with Voldemort. You know, the..." He gulped. "The final battle." Hermione
considered this for a minute.

"It would take a lot of planning, Harry. But I think it's a logical idea. It could only improve your chances at winning."
She smiled at him sadly. 

"Stop looking at me like you feel bad for me," he said angrily. "I'm sick of this. I don't want sympathy."

"I know that, Harry. Just calm down. We're going to work this out, and everything will go fine. However, I think we should
have a group of people planning this, you know? Part of the DA maybe," she said thoughtfully. "We would want every detail
covered." Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment. "Let's make a list."

"Okay... you, me-"

"Ron," Hermione said firmly, staring at Harry.

"Yes, Ron, I know. I'll apologize later," he said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. 

"Ginny, Neville, and Luna? They were with us in the Department of Mysteries, I think they could help a lot," Hermione commented.

"Yeah," Harry answered, thinking hard. "What about Rachel?" Hermione sighed.

"Frankly, I don't trust her right now. I think it's better if we leave her out of this, at least for now."

"I don't trust her either," Harry said sadly.

**********************

After his last class, Harry hurried off to find Ron and apologize. He found his friend standing in a hallway talking to Dean
and Seamus.

"Hey Ron, can I talk to you?" he mumbled, as Dean and Seamus moved down the hallway. Ron stopped walking and faced Harry.
"I just... I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have gotten mad at you this morning." Ron nodded.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have been listening in on your conversation in the first place. Or talking about stuff I don't know,
Or reminding you of Sirius..."

"Nah, it's fine," Harry said, shrugging. Inwardly, he was relieved that it had gone so well. Now Rachel's going to be
another story...

***

He found her sooner than he would have thought. She was standing near the entrance to the Great Hall as the trio approached
for dinner.

"Go talk to her," Hermione said, nudging Harry on the shoulder. Harry sighed.

"I'm going, I'm going," he muttered under his breath. "Hey, Rach," he said stiffly as he approached her. She nodded slightly
in his direction but did not respond. "Look, I'm really sorry about this morning, I didn't mean to make you upset about your
family or anything-"

"Exactly, Harry. My family," she said angrily, causing several other people entering the Great Hall to look up with interest.
"You'll just never understand, will you? I spent my entire life living in a country that wasn't mine, speaking a language
that wasn't mine, living a life that was not MINE!" she screeched shrilly. The pair was attracting lots of attention now.
"Finally, I have what I've always wanted! My real family - they speak English, they're not muggles, they are decent wizards
and I don't want you insulting them!" She took several deep breathes as she fought back tears. "You just can't understand,"
she repeated, stalking off into the Great Hall. Harry leaned back against the stone wall of the hallway and closed his eyes
painfully. 

"You're wrong, Rachel," he whispered, staring at the ceiling. "I know exactly what it's like not to have a family."

*************************