Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, places, items, ect.
Comments: Ooh, the big four-oh. Wish I could say this will be an exceptionally special chapter, but I'm thinking no. Okay, so somebody mentioned that I should do a response to my reviews...so I was thinking maybe I would reply to them at the end of each chapter? What do you think – yes, or no? And also, somebody mentioned that I was dragging the story out too long. Sorry! -wince- I have writing fever! I kind of agree though, it is a bit...much. I'm planning on having the story wrapped up by the next –counts on fingers- four chapters or so. I'm not completely sure, but it'll be somewhere around there. Anyway...review, review, review, I need your guys' opinions! Oh and for those of you whose questions I haven't answered (that are about the plot of this story and such), they will either be answered in this chapter or the ones to come...I think!
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Chapter 40 – The Difference
Harry's mind was reeling as he faced Dumbledore. Over the past hour, he had told Dumbledore much more than he wanted to, and Dumbledore had told him much more than he wanted to know. He averted his eyes from Dumbledore, wanting more than anything to be somewhere...anywhere...else.
"Any more questions, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
What a stupid question, Harry thought, Of course there are more questions. There's always more bloody questions. He put his hands to his forehead and rubbed as he thought.
"Uh, the torch," he finally said, "What is it?"
Dumbledore was silent about two seconds too long, and Harry looked up at him curiously. Dumbledore was surveying him quietly and calculatingly over the rims of his glasses.
"I don't think you are ready to know," Dumbledore said finally.
Harry just about exploded.
"Why the bloody hell not?" he yelled, jumping up out of his chair, "It's my bloody torch, and I deserve to know!"
"Sit down, Harry," Dumbledore told him calmly.
Fuming, Harry sat, eyeing Dumbledore with intense dislike.
"And you will please watch your language," Dumbledore added.
Watch my bloody language, Harry thought furiously, Why should I bloody watch my bloody language?
"I don't think you are ready to know," Dumbledore continued, "Because you have very much to think over already."
"Well, you asked if I had any more questions," Harry pointed out.
"Indeed I did," Dumbledore admitted gravely, "I was hoping for an easier question."
How hard can it be to tell me what the stupid torch is? Harry wondered.
Dumbledore seemed to read his mind. "It involves more than you think, Harry – more than you think."
"Yeah, okay," Harry said, looking in the other direction and willing himself not to scream with frustration.
Dumbledore was silent, which added to Harry's aggravation. He finally turned a menacing glare in his direction, which seemed to amuse him more than anything else.
"Ready to be done, Harry?" he inquired politely.
"Yes," Harry muttered through clenched teeth.
Dumbledore nodded to him and walked to the door, but he stopped after opening it and turned back to Harry.
"I will always be available to you, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry's anger died down a bit, but not completely.
"Thanks," he muttered.
Frustrated, he took the torch out of his pocket and stared at it intently.
"What are you?" he demanded loudly.
It gave a small burst of light, but otherwise stayed silent. He raised his hand to throw it, but thought the better of it and shoved it in his pocket.
"Stupid bloody torch, don't know why I carry it around," he muttered, "I could know why, but no, I'm not 'ready'."
Harry heard footsteps, and quickly walked to the door, shut it, and locked it. He then plopped down on Ron's bed, staring at the ceiling in complete and utter frustration. He heard the doorknob turn.
"Harry?" came Hermione's tentative voice.
"Go away," he growled.
"We just want to make sure you're okay," she argued.
"No you don't," he roared, "You want to find out what Dumbledore told me! Well guess what? I'm not going to tell you a bloody thing!"
"Watch your language, Harry!" Silver exclaimed.
"Are you telling me that after all that just happened you're worried about my language?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Well...yes," Silver said hesitantly.
"You're insane," Harry declared.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she answered sincerely.
He closed his eyes and let out a silent sigh, pressing his fingers into his temples.
"I'm not mad at you, so you have no reason to apologize," he said frustratedly.
"Sorry," she replied.
"Stop saying you're sorry!" he yelled.
"Sor...I mean, okay," she said.
He couldn't help but be mildly amused.
"Are you hungry, Harry?" she asked timidly.
"No," he replied harshly. His stomach protested immediately with a large growl. He rolled his eyes. "Um, I meant to say yes," he admitted.
He heard a smile in her voice as she replied. "Alright, would a sandwich be good? And some crisps and lemonade?"
He didn't think he had heard such a good idea in his entire life. "Yup," he answered.
She cleared her throat pointedly.
"Please," he added grudgingly.
He heard fading footsteps, and added at a yell, "And I only want you to bring it!"
At this he heard many complaints, but Silver called back, "Alright!"
He settled back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Out of all the questions he had asked Dumbledore, he had forgotten to ask him how long he had been without food. The mere thought of it made him hungrier than he ever had been in his life. He groaned and rolled over. He hoped Silver was bringing him a very big sandwich. As he was imagining how good it would taste, he heard a soft knock at the door. He jumped out of bed, leapt for the door, and yanked it open. Silver awarded him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
"Hungry?" she asked in a mock-innocent tone.
She presented him with a tray that had three full sandwiches, a mountain of crisps, and a very large glass of lemonade. He took it thankfully and stuffed a bite of sandwich in his mouth as he took it back to the bed. She closed the door and then perched lightly across from him and the tray, watching him with undisguised amusement.
"How long has it been since I've eaten?" he inquired.
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Two and a half days," she announced.
He nearly spit out a mouthful of crisps, but caught himself.
"Oo an calf ays?" he repeated through the mouthful.
She cringed and put her hands in front of her eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Harry!" she chided.
He swallowed and gave her a grin before continuing to eat.
"Yes, two and a half days," she confirmed, "We managed to get some soup down you yesterday, but that was it."
"Well, that explains why..." he paused in order to take a bite, chew it, and swallow it, "...I'm starved."
"Mm-hmm," she agreed.
She fell back onto the bed and lay with her hands on her stomach. Hungry though he was, Harry paused for a moment to appreciate her. She looked so vulnerable – so perfect. He took a slow bite, finishing his second sandwich, and observed how at peace she seemed. She turned to look at him, and he stopped chewing.
"What?" she asked.
He gulped his bite down. "Nothing," he answered, picking up his third sandwich and averting his gaze elsewhere.
He felt her gaze rest on him for a while longer, but then she turned to look up at the ceiling once more. He resumed watching her as he finished his lunch. Finally, feeling very full, he stretched back onto the bed himself, perpendicular to her.
"How are you, Harry?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
"Fine," Harry answered automatically.
He glanced down at her to see that she was looking at him disbelievingly.
"Okay, maybe not," he admitted, "I'm just frustrated, that's all. I don't know how I could talk to my dead godfather in my sleep and not remember it. And Dumbledore won't tell me what the bl...stupid torch is."
Silver sighed – but the sigh wasn't for herself, it was for him. He sensed this and looked down at her with a mixture of surprise and gratitude.
"I wish I could help, Harry," she said, "Somebody has to defeat Voldemort, you know..."
She trailed off, leaving Harry feeling uncomfortable. She didn't know about the prophecy.
"Yeah, about that," he said awkwardly, "Well, um, it's going to be me."
She looked over at him. "What do you mean, it's going to be you?" she demanded.
"It has to be me," Harry answered, "Me or nobody. It's in the prophecy."
"Prophecy?" she echoed.
"Yeah...the prophecy."
Harry took a deep breath and proceeded to tell her about the prophecy. He even recited it, word-for-word, out loud, for the first time since he had heard it. He felt that she had a right to know. As he explained it, she crawled over to his side and laid her head against his chest. When he finished, she gave a shaky sigh.
"Oh, Harry," she murmured against his chest.
"I'll be all right," he assured her.
"I know you will," she said, "I just wish you didn't have to...to...well, Voldemort."
Harry chuckled. "You just wish I didn't have to Voldemort?" he repeated.
"You know what I mean," she said, raising her head and looking into his eyes.
He looked down at her and was surprised at the intensity of what she was letting him see. She was scared and concerned more so than he had ever seen her before – or at least that he had ever seen her let on.
"So serious," he commented, "I was making a joke."
"But it's not funny," she said tearfully.
He stroked her hair gently. "I'm not planning on losing," he informed her.
Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. "What if you do?" she whispered.
He pulled her down to him and wrapped his arms around her. "It's not even an option," he answered.
Her breath was shaky, and he rubbed her back until she calmed. After a few minutes, she pulled back and looked at him, looking much less scared than she previously had.
"You had better not be thinking that you have to do everything all by yourself," she told him.
He chuckled. "You and Moony should start a club," he informed her.
"Well, you're always acting like you have to take everything on yourself, and you don't, Harry! We want to help you," she insisted.
Harry's smile suddenly dimmed. "Yeah, Sirius wanted to help me," he pointed out, "And a lot of good that did him."
He turned away from her, feeling a wave of pain in his chest.
"Harry, it won't turn out that way for everybody," she told him.
"Maybe not," he agreed, "But what if it's you that it does? Or Moony? Or Ron or Hermione? I couldn't stand that, Silver."
"Well then you're practically admitting defeat already!" Silver replied, "Harry, we're all perfectly aware of the risks!"
"Well then you're all perfectly insane!" Harry answered, his voice rising.
"No, you're perfectly insane!" Silver exclaimed, "Sacrifices are going to have to be made, Harry, and its-"
She stopped as he sat up and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"You...will...not...be...sacrificed," he growled, his face inches from hers.
She looked at a loss for second, but quickly regained her composure.
"I will if I want to, and there's no stopping me," she answered stubbornly.
He let go of her and gaped in amazement.
"So you're telling me in advance that you're going to kill yourself for me?" he yelled.
"No, I'm telling you that I'm willing to," she replied.
"You're impossible," he declared.
"You're impossible," was her retort.
He turned to the side, facing away from her. Too stubborn for her own good, he growled silently to himself.
"Harry?" she ventured suddenly.
"What?" he asked stonily.
"Are you...mad at me?" she inquired.
It took all of his willpower to ignore the pleading in her voice.
"Yes," he answered.
"I'm really sorry, but-"she began.
"I thought I told you to stop saying sorry," he snapped.
"Oh," she said weakly.
There was silence for a moment, and just as he was about to tell her that he wasn't really mad at her, she spoke.
"I love you," she offered.
He was shocked into silence. He had heard her say it before, but always at least forty-five seconds after him, and always hesitantly. Never, never, had she presented him with those three, wonderful, words so confidently. He turned to look at her, still in complete shock. He was jerked back to his senses by the fact that her eyes began to tear.
"Sorry," she said tearfully, "I just thought...I just..."
She turned away, and Harry realized why. He tackled her in a hug that sent them both sprawling down onto the bed. He kissed her fervently on the way down – her neck, her forehead, and then her lips.
"Harry, what-"she began as he drew away.
"I love you," he murmured into her neck.
She let out a breath of relief. He pulled away from her and looked down into her eyes.
"I didn't mean to keep you waiting," he apologized, "But you kind of took me by surprise."
He paused to kiss her nose affectionately.
"You've never exactly – ah – well..." he paused, trying to think of a way to say it nicely.
"Said it first," she finished for him.
"Yeah," he agreed, kissing her neck once more, "Why'd you do it?"
He returned his rapt attention to her neck, although he was still listening for her reply.
"Well, it was – stop it, Harry, you're distracting me – it seemed like the perfect time, didn't it?"
"Mmm," Harry answered, nipping at her ear.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, pushing him a fair few inches away from her.
He grinned, but then paused to consider her question. "Not really," he said decidedly.
He began to lower his head back down to her ear – or her neck...whichever his lips reached first, but stopped when he saw how shocked she looked.
"It wasn't?" she asked, "How?"
"Well, uh...we were kind of having a fight," he said.
"Exactly," she said, as if it made perfect sense, "And now we're not fighting anymore, are we?"
He grinned mischievously. "Nope," he agreed, bending down once more.
She rolled away from him, much to his annoyance.
"What is it?" he demanded.
"It was the perfect time, wasn't it?" she persisted.
He sighed at the determined look on her face and knew he was not going to be able to get near her until they had successfully discussed the fact that it was definitely the perfect time for her to say it.
"Any time is the perfect time," he answered.
She looked shocked that he would think such a thing. "But no, because then it's not a special time!" she protested.
"Hearing you tell me that you love me makes it a special time," he replied.
She seemed to consider his words for a moment, and then she smiled dreamily. "Really?" she asked.
"Truly," he confirmed, beginning to edge his way towards her.
She scooted further away and eyed him suspiciously. He gave her the most innocent grin he could manage and began to quicken pace. She scooted further and her eyes widened as she realized that she had reached the edge of the bed.
"Harry," she squealed.
"Silver," he mimicked in a high voice.
She giggled and allowed him to pull her close. He didn't kiss her, but paused to look into her face before he did so. He took in everything about her that he could, from her scent to the loving, anticipating look in her eyes. She seemed to be doing the same. Neither of them heard the sound of the door opening, or footsteps behind them. Harry began to lean closer, when suddenly a shadow passed over them. Silver's eyes widened as she looked up. Please be Lupin, Harry thought fervently, Or Ron, or Hermione...or Ginny! Yes, Ginny, she's harmless. However, the shadow was far too tall for Ginny. Dumbledore, Harry thought frantically, It could be Dumbledore. Or...Kingsley, he's tall. Mr. Weasley is kind of tall, yes, Mr. Weasley, he has a tall shadow. Please, just anyone but...
He was suddenly grasped by the back of his collar, yanked up, and pushed forwards harshly. He used the wall to break his fall, and spun around to find himself looking into Snape's enraged face. Snape raised his wand, looking as if he were about to kill Harry on the spot.
"Stop it!" Silver exclaimed.
Snape's wand was a few inches away from Harry's throat. It wavered there at Silver's command. Harry fumbled in his pockets only to find, to his horror, that he was wandless.
"Put your wand down," Silver said.
Snape lowered his wand a few inches. Great, Harry thought, Now he's aiming at my heart. Snape looked at him with utmost loathing.
"I've had enough of you, Potter," he growled, "You are completely out of bounds. You...you..."
"He hasn't done anything!" Silver defended.
"He put you in a compromising position!" Snape roared.
"No he didn't," Silver argued.
Snape turned to her, eyes blazing.
"He was on top of you, in a bed," Snape thundered.
Silver blushed profusely. "You don't have to let the whole house know!" she exclaimed, "And he wasn't doing anything – we weren't even kissing!"
"And that matters?" Snape hissed.
"Yes!" she exclaimed.
Snape opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by a very, very welcome voice.
"Ah, Severus, here you are," Lupin greeted brightly from the doorway.
Snape poked his wand into Harry's throat as he turned to look at Lupin.
"Dumbledore has requested to see you," Lupin informed him, "He says it's urgent."
Snape looked from Lupin to Harry and back to Lupin again. Slowly, he drew his wand away from Harry's throat. He looked at Harry and with a very twisted sneer, announced, "We'll finish up this little...talk...later."
With that, he stormed out of the room.
For a moment the three just looked at each other, before Lupin cleared his throat. Harry and Silver both turned to look at him.
"Ah, Silver, I believe you are needed in the, uh..." Lupin trailed off uncertainly, "Downstairs."
"Oh, I see," Silver answered sarcastically, smiling amusedly, "Smooth, Remus."
Lupin grinned. "I thought so," he agreed as she walked past him.
Lupin turned to Harry and raised his eyebrows, a more serious expression on his face. "Compromising position?" he asked.
Harry blushed. "No," he said immediately, "I mean...I wasn't trying " His gaze shifted to the floor at his last words.
"Ah," Lupin said, "Well, Harry, you must remember that...well..."
A kind of muffled sound came from him, and Harry looked up to see that Lupin was shaking with laughter. Harry was half appalled, half relieved. Lupin caught his eye and howled with laughter, shutting the door as he did so. He laughed so hard that he had to sit down on the bed and gasp for breath. Finally, he had regained himself enough to speak.
"Sorry," he breathed, "It's just...just..."
He trailed off, looking at Harry oddly.
"Just what?" Harry asked curiously.
Lupin shook his head. "Nothing, Harry, nothing," he said.
"Tell me," Harry insisted.
"I don't want to upset you," Lupin answered.
Harry thought for a moment. "Well, now I know it's about my parents, and I'm not upset, so tell me," he said.
Lupin looked at him in surprise. "Well, it's just that James always told me that if he ever found you with a girl, I would have to give you 'the talk' because he and Sirius would be too busy giving you pointers."
Instead of reacting to the news about his father, Harry asked, "You're not going to give me the talk, are you?"
"Erm, no. That is...unless...you, well...need it," Lupin said, looking as if he desperately hoped Harry didn't need it.
"Uh, no, I'm fine, thanks," Harry said quickly.
He then smiled. "What did my mom say?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed opposite Lupin and lying down.
"What?" Lupin repeated.
"Yeah, after she heard my dad say that," Harry said.
He closed his eyes, imagining his father, Sirius, Lupin, and his mother all sitting down in a cozy house, talking together.
"How do you know she heard?" Lupin asked, but then he continued. "Well, never mind that. She told your father he was a horrible prick and that she was going to divorce him and find him a proper father."
Harry's eyes shot open. "What?" he exclaimed.
Lupin chuckled. "She was just kidding, Harry," he informed him, "He pretended to be hurt and she told him that she was just teasing him and that he would be the best father there ever was, even if he did try and corrupt his son."
Harry smiled. "Good," he said, relieved.
"But Harry," Lupin said, "Really – how serious are you about Silver?"
Harry stared at the ceiling. "I haven't thought about it," he said, "I mean, our relationship – it just kind of happens."
"Well...there's a certain point where you have to take control," Lupin said carefully.
Harry sat up and turned to face Lupin. "What point is that?" he asked.
Lupin opened his mouth, but the voice Harry heard was not his.
"Remus, Harry," Tonks said from the doorway, "The kids are going back to the castle – all of them."
"Right now?" Lupin asked.
"Yup," Tonks confirmed.
"Well – come on then, Harry," Lupin said, walking towards the doorway.
Harry trotted after Lupin, still wanting an answer to his question. Lupin and Tonks, however, were walking side by side down the stairs.
"Moony!" Harry said from behind them.
Lupin flatly ignored him as he answered something Tonks had asked him.
"Moony?" Harry tried again.
Tonks laughed and said something back, and Lupin's laugh echoed her. They arrived downstairs, and Harry cupped his hands and yelled, "MOONY!"
Lupin jumped and spun around as they arrived in the living room.
"What is it, Harry?" he asked, as all eyes turned on them.
Harry uncomfortably avoided everyone's gaze. There was no way he was asking Lupin in front of everybody – especially since Silver was one of those 'everybody's. "Um...nothing," he said unconvincingly.
Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Right..." he said uncertainly.
Harry made his way over to Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Silver, and sat down. Dumbledore began to talk to them about going back to the castle, mentioning his and Silver's names specifically a few times, but Harry wasn't listening. He was looking at Silver worriedly. They had never talked about having a more serious relationship – it had just seemed to progress on it's own. But did they need to talk about it? He wished that Tonks could have stayed downstairs for just a few more minutes before interrupting...no, barging in on...him and Lupin.
"Harry?" Dumbledore said suddenly.
Harry's eyes shot towards the headmaster.
"You first," Dumbledore said, holding out a pot of Floo Powder.
"Oh – right," Harry said.
He hoped he was right in assuming that he had to go to Hogwarts. He took a handful of Floo Powder, threw it into the fire, and said, "Hogwarts!"
He landed in Dumbledore's office, which looked different somehow. He had a feeling something important had changed – but what? Everything seemed to be in place, but something was definitely different. To his relief, Ron, Hermione, Silver, Ginny, and finally Dumbledore all arrived behind him. Again, he missed Dumbledore's speech as he tried to figure out what had changed.
The next thing he knew, Silver nudged him in the side.
"Come on, Harry," she said.
He glanced at Dumbledore who was looking at him with amusement, and then followed the rest towards the Gryffindor common room. He walked downstairs to find that the entire castle had changed, somehow. It all felt different, but looked the same. He stopped in his tracks, and his friends turned around to look at him, concerned.
"Something's different," he said.
They all looked around, except for Silver, who looked at him.
"What's different, Harry?" she asked.
"Everything," he answered, "Don't you feel it?"
His friends exchanged glances.
"I don't feel anything different," Ginny ventured.
"Neither do I," Ron added.
"Me either," Hermione said, as if that settled the matter.
Harry couldn't believe it. How could they not notice? He looked at Silver hopefully.
"I...I don't feel anything terribly different," she said meekly, "But I'm sure there is something."
Harry looked at all of them in disbelief. He felt as if he was in a completely different castle, and none of them felt a thing. This can't be good, he told himself.
"Uh, well...it's not that different," he lied, "I think I'm just...tired."
He tried his best to look tired, and they all seemed to buy it except for Silver. When they arrived in the common room, it was empty. Harry had lost all track of time, and was surprised to see that the fire in the common room had dimmed.
"It's late," he announced to nobody in particular.
Ginny yawned her agreement. "Yeah – g'night," she said, trudging tiredly up the stairs to the girls' dorms.
Ron and Hermione echoed her and then Hermione turned to wait for Silver, and Ron for Harry. Silver looked at the two of them a moment before reaching on her tiptoes to hug Harry.
"Tell me what's different," she whispered into his ear.
Then, she kissed him lightly, said a cheery goodnight, and headed up the stairs with Hermione. Harry stared after her in surprise for a moment. Did she really know him well enough to know what he was thinking – when Ron and Hermione, who had known him for six years, didn't appear to have a clue? He shook his head and headed for the dorms with Ron, who was too tired to notice that anything was bothering Harry.
As Harry sank under the covers, he wondered what day it was. It took him a few minutes to figure out that it was Monday – very late Monday. But it was hard to sleep – because something was different. Something was very different. He didn't know how late it was when he fell asleep – for all he knew, it could have been early Tuesday morning, but when he finally fell asleep, it was troubled. He had no visual dreams that night, but in the back of his mind, he heard a cold, dark laugh that caused him to break a sweat and clench his teeth.