Ron clapped mocking applause as he shouted, "Way to go, Smith! You just pelted your own Keeper with the Quaffle! Did you see that?" he asked, nudging Katie again.
"Our first game," Harry said to Katie. "We'll win for Angelina." Katie smiled up at him and with a sniff, threw an arm around him for a hug. Harry looked over her head to see Ron scowling at them and tried to shrug to his friend. Harry was just about to suggest that Katie tell Ron the plan, too when a chorus of screams rang across the pitch.
* * * * * * *
Chapter 36. Potter's ArmyVoldemort!! It was the first thought that screamed itself inside Harry's mind. His wand was drawn in a flash but he wasn't prepared for what he saw as his eyes focused on the pitch.
A Slytherin green blur was fast falling from the sky, with no broom in sight.
Harry's mind whirled on what spell could be used to stop the figure of swirling green robes from crashing into the pitch. It's a person, I can't control it like an object…Transfigure it? Into what--a bird? Would it know how to fly? I'll never be able to hit it in freefall like that. The gap between the flailing figure and the grassy green pitch was fast narrowing and Harry pointed his wand at the earth in a general guess of the soon to be splat. "Pillovinus," he muttered. It was a Cushioning Charm and all he could think of as he now saw the robes billowing upwards in the wind to reveal a terror stricken pointy face with pale blond hair.
Draco Malfoy's body impacted the earth and the instinctive gasp and cringes from the gathering crowd at first made Harry believe he'd failed to help. But then, Harry with his eyes glued wide open, saw Malfoy's body not splat upon the ground but sink into a depression and then, as if taking a breath, the depression filled back up, tossing the body a foot or so into the air before it landed again with a final bounce.
Those who had seen it were dumbstruck and those who'd turned to avoid the scene of impact were now peeking through splayed fingers or over a friend's clutched shoulder, unable to not peak.
"Oh, my," Katie said weakly and making Harry quite painfully aware of the fact that, even through his heavy cloak, Katie's fingers were digging into his upper arm in a painful and deathly grip. He turned a bit towards her and prised her hand away as she looked up at him. "How in the world…" she said in an awed voice and then turned, looking down as players flew to the ground around the fallen Malfoy.
Ron suddenly seemed to wake from his shock and, still looking down at the pitch, said, "What is--?" and then snapped his mouth shut. He turned and looked at Harry with an inscrutable look on his face and then quickly pushed in front of Katie and Harry, saying, "I've got to go."
Harry was dimly aware that Katie was looking up at him. "You…Harry, you saved him," she said in hushed awe. "I heard you—I heard you mutter the spell!"
"Shh," Harry said, shaking his head and looking around to notice everyone else seemed too shocked or busy whispering to have heard Katie. "No," he shook his head. "I didn't do anything." She looked like she didn't quite believe him but turned back to observe the growing scene.
Harry and Katie both now looked down at the ground and saw the whole Slytherin team, Madam Hooch, Professor Sprout and Viktor Krum all gathered around a shaken but surly looking Draco Malfoy. Madam Hooch especially seemed to want to have a good look at Malfoy and make sure he was really in working order but the Slytherin Seeker could be seen pushing her away and frantically looking for someone to blame.
"Let's go down there," Harry said and barely waited for Katie to nod. They met Ginny and Zoe on the steps from the stands and rushed over to the growing group on the pitch. There were able to walk to the center of the congregation by following Madam Pomfrey who was sternly shouting, "Make way!! Out of the way! NOW!"
There was a chorus of people asking each other what had happened and why Malfoy had seemed to bounce off the earth but no one was louder now than the nurse.
"What in the name of Merlin happened?" she demanded, taking Malfoy forcibly by the shoulders and peering into his eyes. "I'm just about to head out for the game and I see you doing some fool dive—without a broom!" She now had her wand out and was running over and alongside his body.
But Malfoy wanted none of this and as her wand ran down his front and took on a bluish glow, he pushed her arm away and said, "No! Witch—leave me alone!"
"Mister Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey said, clearly insulted and affronted by his manner.
"What, may I ask, is the meaning of this?" suddenly came Snape's resonating baritone, pushing through the students and stopping just in front of Harry. "Mister Malfoy—explain!" he commanded.
"Severus," Madam Hooch interrupted as she strode forward into the center of the circle. "I think I can explain." She looked at Malfoy with narrowed eyes and said, "I believe your Mister Malfoy here was using a spell of some sort to keep himself upon his broomstick." She turned and gestured towards someone who seemed to not be where she thought he would be and then craned her neck to scan the people gathered. "There—Professor Krum," she pointed to the back of the gathering where, and Harry had to look twice, Viktor Krum was getting an earful from Ron. "Viktor," Hooch went on, "was just telling me some of the standard practices for International matches and mentioned a sweep of the pitch and players to end any non-standard, approved spells. I thought I might give it a go."
"You took off the spells on my broom?" Malfoy shouted now, incredulous and irate. He then whipped around, Harry guessed, to look for his broom. "That was a Nimbus 2001—you'll pay for a new one!"
Hooch was clearly not amused by Malfoy and stepped into his direct line of sight and said, "Your broom is still a broom, Mister Malfoy. But I have to ask then, just what additional spells did you have on it that prevented you from being able to stay aboard it when they were ended? Is it possible you cannot ride a broom without extra spells to help you stay on?" she asked, seeming to grow taller as Malfoy, in turn, shrank, red-faced. Several people gathered around found this notion quite amusing and Malfoy's face grew even enraged from their chuckling.
"Mister Malfoy," Snape's voice intoned as Harry watched his gaze slide from Ron and Krum back to Malfoy. "Come!"
Madam Hooch puffed herself out and up, saying, "Severus, I insist to know—"
"Later," Snape said, grabbing Malfoy by the elbow and dragging him through the parting crowd.
Madam Pomfrey then made to follow them and calling out, "That boy has something wrong with him!"
"I'll say," Ginny muttered behind Harry, making Zoe snicker.
"Well," Hooch said, looking spitefully at the retreating forms of Snape and Malfoy. "This match is scheduled to start now. If you're not a player—clear out! Captains?"
"What?"
"No!"
"He just took our Seeker!"
Harry wanted to grin at the Slytherins' sudden panic as he and the others not playing backed away and cleared off the pitch. He could see Millicent Bulstrode looking frantically about and she just grabbed a young Slytherin from a group walking past and said, "You--," she shoved what must have been Malfoy's Nimbus 2001 at him, "—fly into the changing rooms and throw on a uniform—now!"
Ginny just turned to Harry and Katie and asked, "Did you see anyone soften the ground or something? How did he not become Slytherin Soup?"
A loud, gleeful laugh then announced Ron as he came bounding up to Harry and the others. "Did you see that!?" He was nearly clapping and bouncing. "Those snakes don't have a prayer now! That kid Bulstrode just picked looked like he's about to wet himself!"
But Harry wasn't really listening. He was now bothered about why Ron and had been talking to Viktor about something. There had also been that time when, through the use of the Marauder's Map, Harry had seen them together in a room one night when Ron was avoiding the DA. Harry really wanted to know. "Ron, since when are you friends with Viktor Krum?" he asked. But Ron and the rest of them were nearly mowed down as the new Slytherin Seeker tore out towards the pitch on the broom, his feet almost grazing their heads as he streaked over them.
"Looks like he isn't having a problem staying on the broom," Zoe quipped and nodding appreciatively at the speedy replacement.
They made their way back to the stands and finally found new seats as the game began. Harry felt Katie giving him questioning looks and he finally just leaned over and whispered, "I don't want anyone to know I was the one who did that—they'll all ask me why."
"Well, why did you?" she asked, clearly confused why Harry, of all people, would save Malfoy.
Harry shrugged. "Habit of mine--it's a saving people thing." He smirked.
Katie smiled wryly and then asked shrewdly, "Did you even know who it was?"
"Not until just before he bounced," Harry said and Katie nodded, satisfied.
Harry then spent the rest of the match watching both the game and Ron who was a very vocal Hufflepuff supporter for the day. Why did Ron suddenly seem to have a friendly relationship with Viktor Krum? And how, he wondered as the Slytherin team consistently outplayed Hufflepuff, was he going to get Gryffindor in shape to beat this Slytherin team? Millicent was an excellent Keeper and despite Smith's fair play at Chaser, only allowed two goals.
The match turned out to be a fairly good one. Harry kept expecting Malfoy to come storming back out and demanding his spot back but it never happened. The new Beater and new Seeker for Slytherin seemed to work quite well for them as they ended up trouncing Hufflepuff with a score of 220-20 in just under an hour.
Ron was of course disgusted with the final score but cheered himself back up by wondering if Malfoy might now be replaced permanently as Seeker.
"You know, we do have to play them—perhaps we should be glad to see Malfoy's ineptness back on the pitch," Ginny said reminding him that perhaps they ought to hope to face the lesser talented of the two Seekers.
Ron seemed to mull over and said, "Well, that's one way to look at it, Gin. I'll need to compare the benefits of seeing Malfoy being replaced versus seeing Harry nick the Snitch out from under the ferret's nose yet again."
Harry grinned at Ron's faith in his Seeking abilities and was about to ask if he wanted to go to the library together to work on their Charms homework as they walked into the Entrance Hall. But before Harry could ask, a new voice cut across the Hall, making Harry cringe.
"Potter!" Snape's curt voice rang out as the Potions Master came to an abrupt halt, robes swirling around his legs and settling with a flutter. "To my office—now," he barked and then whirled away, clearly intending for Harry to have nothing better to do than obey.
Harry's friends grimaced their sympathy as they parted ways and Harry reluctantly trudged off down the corridor that led below to the dungeons.
"I don't have all day, Potter," Snape growled warningly as he stood waiting at his office door. Harry made sure to not speed up one bit.
"What is this about?" Harry asked as he entered the office he'd been forcibly thrown out of last year.
"I'll be asking the questions, Potter," Snape barked as he waved his wand to slam the door shut behind Harry. Snape stood with his arms crossed, staring intently at Harry with his black, fathomless eyes narrowed. "What did you do out there?"
"I didn't do anything," Harry began to protest but Snape waved his hand and cut him off.
"Don't lie to me, Potter! I know… I know you had something to do this," he said with his eyes glinting and Harry noted his wand hand seemed to be twitching restlessly. Before Harry could protest again, Snape, in a dangerously smooth tone said, "You were in the class just this week where you witnessed Mister Malfoy's injury." Harry frowned at this in confusion. "You knew Malfoy would need customized charms upon his broom to play in today's match."
Harry was frowning deeply now and quite frankly very lost. "I really don't know what—"
"Don't lie to me!" Snape shouted, and stomped one foot in a very childish manner. A wisp of his greasy black hair was now hanging down across one eye and for whatever reason, it bothered Harry immensely. Snape's eyes flashed wildly as he took a step towards Harry and then snarled, "The Bubotuber Pus. Surely you couldn't have forgotten what must be a very fond memory for you?"
Harry's face lit with recognition now. Ernie Macmillan had 'accidentally' spilled Bubotuber Pus across his worktable and it had then 'accidentally' spilled onto Malfoy's lap. Harry then flashed back to a memory of Hermione receiving hate mail back in fourth year when everyone thought she was two-timing Harry with Viktor Krum. Someone had sent her an envelope filled with the pus and it had caused her hands to be instantly covered with painful thick sores that filled with pus and crusted over. As Harry put the two memories together, he winced visibly as he realized just what injuries Malfoy would still be nursing and just where they would be.
"Yes, now you remember what I'm talking about," Snape sneered.
"But I didn't realize—I didn't do anything—if anything I'm the one who saved him!" Harry said, shaking his head vigorously at the injustice of him being blamed for this mess.
Snape looked like he'd just caught Harry in well-designed trap. "Yes, Potter, I'd already guessed that much. You're little Cushioning Charm…yes… Who else, but you would rise so quickly to play the hero and save his enemy, hmm?" Harry was truly perplexed now. "Who else, but you, Potter, would know how to endanger Mister Malfoy's life in such a situation where you would then be able to save him in front of the entire school?"
"But no one knows!" Harry shouted. "You heard Madam Hooch! She said she cast the spell—"
"Yes, I heard perfectly well. Are you telling me you think your friend Viktor Krum just happened to mention that particular suggestion to Hooch just as Mister Malfoy was up in the air upon his broom?"
"Yes!" Harry said but frowned as he looked at Snape. "No—we're not friends. I haven't spoken to Krum since last week! I never told him anything—ask him!"
"Then why was your little red-headed friend smirking beside Krum?" Snape demanded and threw back his head, shaking the one wayward stringy strand of greasy hair back with the rest.
Harry frowned yet again and bit his lip. He really needed to know just what was up between Ron and Krum. Perplexed, he shook his head. "I don't know, sir," he said, quietly now.
"Then I suggest you find out," Snape said in an equally quiet voice. "And if it's true that no one saw you cast the Cushioning Charm then I also forbid you from telling anyone—including Mister Malfoy—just what you did."
"I don't want anyone—especially him—to know what I did!" Harry said, angry again.
Snape merely arched an eyebrow. "Then we're agreed."
Harry was determined to find out what was going on with Ron when he headed back to Gryffindor Tower. However, the chance to get Ron alone and ask never once occurred that night or even through the rest of the weekend. Harry told Hermione what had happened and she thought it odd as well. She suggest she ask Viktor about it at some point in the near future. She also guessed that Snape didn't want Malfoy to find out Harry had saved his life because it wouldn't look good for one of Voldemort's junior Death Eaters to be indebted to Harry Potter. Harry guessed this made sense since he remembered Professor Dumbledore saying something similar about Wormtail who was supposedly still in Harry's debt (though he saw no evidence of Wormtail thinking about repaying it anytime soon).
When Harry next met with Professor Dumbledore, the wise wizard was twinkling away and asked after only a minute, "So, Harry. Do you know why it was that you chose to help Mister Malfoy when he was in need?"
Harry had just gotten done with a rotten Quidditch practice where everyone had been more focused on messing around than actually practicing. "Yes, sir," Harry said. "I helped because I hadn't a clue as to who it was falling until it was too late." Harry knew he was being tetchy and he didn't much care. He wasn't in the mood for Dumbledore's twinkling over his accidental saving of Malfoy. It meant nothing.
"Do you really believe, Harry, that if you knew who it was, you really could have sat back and watched him crash into the earth?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes penetrating and brows raised as if he already knew the answer.
Harry bit back a reply. He really wanted to say, no, he probably couldn't have watched Malfoy crash into the pitch as he would have likely had to look away at the moment of impact. But, wisely, he kept this comment to himself.
"Well," Dumbledore said, seeming more than smugly satisfied at Harry's silence. "Life debts have an odd way of being paid forward—even if they are not known to the person who is indebted." He gave Harry one last, long look before moving on to their lesson.
Harry had become very proficient with his mastery of the Boggart. He was able to project simple images rapidly with ease. His ability to maintain a mental shield about his mind was also strong now, however, Dumbledore had to give him a hint as to how he should conceptualize this shield. As it stood now, Harry envisioned his shield as a brick wall that allowed him to see out but no one to see in. In fact, during a lesson where Harry was only to concentrate on his shields while Dumbledore varied attacking his mind outright and setting forth a Boggart on him, the Boggart was caught several times taking the shape of a brick wall.
Dumbledore mused on this and finally said, "I believe, Harry, that while effective in protecting your mind from attack, your conceptualized barrier still needs to evolve. You see, even when your mind fends off my attacks, I glean the feeling of my probe bouncing off a brick wall. It's accurate, yes, but also very clearly lets whomever is trying to attack your mind know they've not succeeded and that you have a shield in place. Now, we've discussed this before and that the ultimate in mastery of Occlumency is being able to block attack unbeknownst to the attacker. I shall give you a hint as to how this might be done successfully—imagine yourself successful and let that image of yourself guard your shield, or in your case, wall."
Harry's puzzled frown was met only with twinkling as Dumbledore smiled and sent him on his way.
"Mister Potter!" came the high voice of Professor Filius Flitwick, causing Harry to look up from the third year essays he was desperately trying to get marked before the start of their class. "Mister Potter, I hoped I might find you in here! I've been looking all over for you and ran into Miss Granger. She suggested I might find you in here," he said, gesturing the mostly vacant Defense Office.
"What do you need, Professor?" Harry asked, hastily glancing down the last bit of Stewart Ackerly's essay.
It was a decidedly odd sight, Harry mused, as Professor Flitwick looked up to him, Harry, who was seated behind the old wooden desk. "Well, Harry, I have been in contact with several friends and they all agree that your discovery about the Patronus Charm is indeed a step in the forward evolution in the understanding of the Charm. In the best of times, it would be a standard in the academic study of the spell, however, with the unfortunate state of times as they are…"
"Yes, Professor?" Harry prompted, frowning a bit at the rambling Charms professor.
"Well," he beamed, "I spoke to an old student of mine who now works on the Ministry's Committee for Experimental Charms and, oh I do hope you don't mind, I mentioned the news and he was ever so excited."
"But the Patronus Charm is not experimental," Harry said, still frowning.
"Oh, well, no, however, the Committee has been working to find new ways to combat Dementors. You know how difficult the charm is even for fully qualified wizards to master. This news will at least help others to become proficient in the casting of the charm."
"But it won't help them prepare to fend off a Dementor," Harry said firmly. "I don't like that everyone is getting excited because they suddenly have a Patronus. Professor, you ought to know that the most difficult part of fending off a Dementor is regaining control of your mind and thoughts so that you can cast the charm to drive them away!"
Professor Flitwick looked a little deflated at this but quickly recovered and said, "Of course, of course, Harry. But nonetheless, it is an advance in the understanding of the charm." Harry couldn't argue with this and nodded. "So, what I'm asking is, might I convince you to draft a dissertation on your discovery so that you might submit it to the Journal of Enchantments and Charms?"
"What's that?" Harry asked, confused and wary of more work.
"Oh, it's an academic publication, like the Journal of Alchemy or of Runic Sorcery. It's the forum for presentation of professional research and discovery. It's the most immediate way to publish a discovery for international consideration." Flitwick was beaming now. "Oh it is rare, Mister Potter, for one as young as yourself to merit a discovery worthy of publication, however, I do believe this qualifies and is also newsworthy in our current situation. I've published several times myself and would be very honoured to help. The format for submission can be tricky indeed."
"Oh…er…" More work was the last thing Harry felt he needed, however he couldn't argue that it was important for people to be as prepared as possible for whatever forces of terrorizing, Voldemort had to wield. "I guess that would be fine." How hard could it be to sum up his thoughts on the charm?
Of course, a week later, Harry was deeply regretting this blasted decision. He was now on the seventh rewrite of his submission and ready to hex Professor Flitwick if he had but one more suggestion or rule to the formatting of the dratted thing.
"Harry, are you sure you don't want me to help?" Hermione asked as she watched Harry set fire to yet another crumpled parchment. She'd been offering her assistance ever since she'd gasped and squealed when Harry told her about Professor Flitwick's proposition. According to Hermione, Flitwick was a very respected Master of Charms and author of several major discoveries and refinements on spellwork. She urged Harry to follow any advice he might offer as he would surely know best.
"No, it's just this last part here," Harry said. "I've to write an abstract now of the whole bit I already wrote." Frankly, a summary of a paper already including a summary sounded a bit mental to Harry.
"Oh, abstracts are very important, Harry," Hermione said. "It's the first thing one reads when perusing a journal. It lets one read a brief summary of the work so they know whether they want to read the complete piece."
"Isn't that what the title is for?" Harry asked, annoyed by the whole thing by now.
"Oh no," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It also let's one who is about to read the whole piece know where the conclusion is heading. It's not supposed to be a mystery novel."
"It's a novel all right," Harry mumbled.
The Common Room's portrait hole then opened and, with much stomping and glaring, Zoe Sorensen marched in. Her usually neat brown pigtails were now striped orange and yellow as she marched across the room to her dormitory stairs, glaring at every snicker she heard.
Ginny, who had followed her in, was grinning ear-to-ear and collapsed in giggles at Harry and Hermione's table.
"Dare I even ask?" Hermione said as they watched Ginny gasp for breath.
Grinning, Ginny said, "Oh, it was brilliant! We were down in the Potions lab repeating the Wit Sharpening Potion that we both messed up on today and you should have seen it! Viktor had already checked ours and said they were passing and then he told me how to alter Zoe's so it would do that to her hair! We each drank some of our own potion then and she ended up with that! Isn't that brilliant?"
Harry had to laugh although it was also quite unfair, he thought. "You guys get a professor who tells you how to turn a potion into a prank and we still get stuck with Snape," he said scowling and laughing. "That is so unfair!"
"Hmm, I suppose it is harmless," Hermione said with an odd smile that was a cross between both a frown and amusement. "He lets you all call him Viktor?"
"What do you call him?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Well, that's different," Hermione said quickly. "I'm not his student."
"Not exactly what I meant," Ginny mumbled. "Yeah, he's very relaxed in class. Almost everyone calls him Viktor. And why not? He's not that much older than us! At least he's young enough to remember how difficult it is to make a potion perfectly the very first time. Why do you think he lets us come down in the evenings to practice and get them right?" Ginny suddenly leaned across the table and her eyes got bright. "Oh and guess what!?"
"What?" said Harry reflexively, almost wary.
Ginny scanned about and then, in a low voice, said, "I saw Ron down there tonight. You'll never guess what he's doing."
The wary feeling suddenly turned into dread and fear as Harry felt Hermione look at him and then back to Ginny.
"Aren't you going to guess?" Ginny asked, smiling mischievously. It did little to ease Harry's dread.
Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and Hermione's twin looks of resolved wariness. "He was brewing potions," she said with an air of exasperation. "He looked like he wanted to bolt when he saw Zoe and I arrive, but, as he was in the middle of brewing something while Viktor was talking to him, he very well couldn't run off. He was still there when we left."
"What was he doing brewing potions?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"That's what I asked him," Ginny said, sitting back. "He said there was more than one way to prepare for a NEWT."
Harry felt relief wash over him. He turned to see his own smile reflected on Hermione's face.
"Did you two know about this?" Ginny asked, watching their reactions.
"No," Harry said, turning back to her and still smiling softly.
"I told Viktor how upset we were when Ron dropped Potions," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I would never have asked him to take the time to tutor Ron but he must have offered."
Ron hadn't given up on his dream of being an Auror. The thought made Harry smile not only with happiness for his friend but in relief that the untimely revelation of the news of he and Hermione being a couple did not cause Ron's dream to be lost after all.
"Well, I suppose," Ginny said. "I know Bill had to do a year of independent study on Runes to take that NEWT. He said he knew he needed it to apply for a curse-breaker position with Gringotts but he'd dropped it after his fifth year. Mum was on the twins every time she saw them this summer to try and take at least a few NEWTs."
"You mean I could drop our awful two hour sessions with Snape and still take the NEWT and all?" Harry said, hope building alongside frustration that he wasted so much time in class with the greasy git.
Hermione gave him a stern look. "You could drop the class if you were determined to study and prepare on your own."
"I could work with Ron!" he said, already planning to wipe off the twice-weekly class from his timetable.
"You two would be a disaster together," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You're in the middle of a project with your group in the class now and they are counting on you! You can't drop a class now—it would go on your transcript!"
"But—"
"You want to give Professor Snape the satisfaction of seeing you flee his class?" Hermione asked with a pointed look.
"It wouldn't be fleeing," Harry grumbled.
"He'd believe you were too cowardly to last through his class," Hermione said knowingly. "He would be ever so pleased."
"I am not a coward!" Harry said, drawing a few looks from other Gryffindors in the Common Room. He looked shrewdly at Hermione and lowered his voice as he said, "Stop trying to manipulate me. I get enough of that from Dumbledore."
"I'm not trying to manipulate you," Hermione said, hurt. Harry watched her look at him with penitence and she explained, "Harry, you two would never work. You'd both corrupt the other with ideas of things you'd each rather do than study. Besides, part of our class is working together with people from other Houses. You're the last person who should be seen dropping it to work on his own."
Harry knew she was right. It was just that despite his elation at earning the prerequisite Outstanding mark on his Potions OWL, it had still been a let down to realize he would be enduring two more Snape-filled years of the class. That Ron had found a way around this was enough to make Harry jealous.
"Besides," Hermione went on, "you earned the right to be in the class proper and it would be much more work to go it alone without a class for formal instruction." She held up her hand, "Even if Viktor is helping Ron, he didn't take our type of NEWT to be qualified in Potions. He can't possibly prepare anyone as well as Professor Snape who's been teaching for 15 years could."
"Um, hey listen," Ginny said, obviously hoping he and Hermione would drop their argument. "It rather seemed Ron was embarrassed that we saw him down there. Maybe neither of you should say anything about it, you know? If he wants you to know, he'd tell you about it."
"You're probably right, Ginny," said Hermione. She nudged Harry who nodded moodily.
"Good," said Ginny, obviously relieved. "Oh, and Harry? I have, er, well, I should have what you asked for ready for you soon." Harry's face showed bewilderment and she mumbled as she said, "You know—about my first year?"
"Oh," Harry said. He had indeed asked her weeks ago if she would be willing to share her recollections of her experiences with Tom Riddle's diary. Ginny had said she'd written almost an entire journal full of the experience during her third year to help her cope with the residual fears and guilt she felt about the incident. The fact that she wrote them in a diary of her own was an ironic statement all in itself. Harry had explained that it was a suggestion from Professor Dumbledore that he better try to understand the motives that influenced young Tom Riddle. Ginny had said her journal was more of her own experience and not so much about what Tom Riddle had said and been. She had agreed to go over her diary and recall her experiences with him and then record them for Harry.
Harry watched Ginny now, her brilliantly red hair a contrast to her pale and now grim face. Her jaw set itself determinedly and she looked up to meet his eyes. "It's…it's been hard. It will be hard for you to read. I almost feel sorry for him sometimes—he was…I don't know. It was all probably an act to get a silly girl to trust him and when I think of that it makes me furious." Her dark brown eyes glinted with a pained memory and Harry regretted even asking her to think on what had to have been the worst experience of her life. She looked down and Hermione reached out a hand to cover one of hers. Ginny looked up for a moment and gave a tight smile to her. "Thanks," she whispered. She looked to Harry then. "It's just he acted in ways and said a lot of things that made me feel sympathetic to him and like he was a friend. I know it was part of the curse that was that diary but you asked for details about him."
"I understand," Harry said. "I used the diary once, too, remember?"
Ginny looked startled to be reminded on this but nodded shakily and said, "Oh, right." She gave a wry smile and said, "Merlin, I was so terrified you'd find out I had that stupid crush on you when I saw you had the book." Harry could only quirk up a lopsided grin at this as he fought back a flush that made both Hermione and Ginny grin at him.
Throughout the rest of the week, Harry was as busy as he had ever been. He'd sent Hedwig off with his finished journal article to the publishing office but was now holding quidditch practices as often as the team could meet.
Practices now had a routine that mirrored the workouts of Oliver Wood. There were drills designed to hone flying skills and drills designed to help them work together as a team. The drills, a long standing favorite of Wood in the early season, were helping everyone to improve their fundamental skills, which was something almost everyone needed. As captain the previous year, Angelina had skipped over many of the drills in practice because in the beginning, only Ron had been new and she personally, had loathed the drills. Now, the drills were solidifying the cohesiveness necessary between both the Chasers and the Beaters.
After a particularly lively practice one evening, Harry went back out to the pitch to fetch his Seeker gloves that he'd misplaced, only to see Katie and Ron still flying. Harry hung back in the deepening shadows of a spectator box and watched.
Katie had one of the old practice Quaffles and began hurling it back and forth with Ron as they flew in circles. It appeared, at first, that they were just playing catch, but as they tossed it back and forth, they actually led the other to move in a circle. Harry recognized the drill as one Oliver had done with the Chasers a few times back in Harry's first and second years. In the fading light, Harry then spied his leather gloves across the pitch and, not wanting to disturb Ron and Katie, summoned them silently before retreating back towards the castle.
Along the path from the pitch to the castle, a shuffling noise in the shrubbery made Harry freeze and then he head a familiar drawling voice: "I know you were behind it Bulstrode. You've been looking for a way to get me off the team since you stole my spot as captain!"
There was some more shuffling before Millicent Bulstrode's voice ground out, "Don't kid yourself, Malfoy. Professor said he was glad he could offer the captainship to someone who had earned it!" Another shuffling sound and then a grunt and a pained groan followed. "Get your meaty hands off me, Crabbe!" she said. "Why don't you think for yourself for once, Vincent? You could get called to leave here any day now and you wouldn't have Draco here to tell you what to do—ever think of that? And you—keep your damn mouth shut!"
A snort came and Harry almost wondered how a snort could have such a distinctive drawl to it.
"You think it's funny? Even Potter's worked out that you're not the one in charge anymore! You act like a fool!"
The snort came again but was decidedly weaker this time.
"Money will only get you so far, you know," she said warningly.
"Father will be out in no time," said Malfoy's arrogant voice. "Why do you think Goyle got called forth? My aunt says it's a way to find Father. And as for Potter, he's not worked out anything!"
"I'm hungry," came a deep whiney voice that had to be Crabbe.
"Shut it!" Malfoy said. There was a short shuffling sound and then Harry had to strain (he cursed himself for not pulling out an Extendable Ear already) to hear Malfoy whisper heatedly, "I'll be showing up for the next practice, Bulstrode, and you best be sure that other twat doesn't! Disobey me and you'll hear from someone you'll wish you'd never met!"
The shuffling then picked up and several twigs cracked as the noise neared where Harry was crouched. Panicking, Harry looked about for a place top hide and cursed the fact he was wearing red quidditch robes. Quickly, he thwacked himself on the head with his wand and hoped the Disillusionment Charm worked. The trickling feeling of ice water running down his body seemed to mean it did and the fact that he only saw himself as a dark mixture of twigs and leaves confirmed it. Not a moment later, the quick steps of Draco Malfoy bustled past, followed by the hulking form of Crabbe. Harry watched them go as Malfoy brushed off the front of his robes haughtily.
Harry watched them head towards the castle and then turned to see Millicent Bulstrode, looking rumpled and surly, emerge from the shrubbery and stalk off down the path to the pitch. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he gave her one last look before turning back towards the castle himself. It was only when he reached the seventh floor and a trio of first years almost walked straight through him that he realized he ought to take off the Disillusionment Charm.
Harry sat back and waited patiently for the members of the DA to filter into the room. He sat upon a table with his legs dangling down off the floor, beside a large trunk. He had activated their galleons even though it was the normal time and day for them to meet. He hoped they would all take it to mean they should all show up. The meetings had become laid back and not everyone showed up to every meeting. Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Houses had members who were also holding tutoring sessions for their own housemates. Gryffindor, in Colin and Dennis Creevey, also had regular lectures and practice sessions for their younger house members. (Although, Ron often laughed when they saw them and claimed it was merely Colin's Harry Potter fan club coming out into the open.)
"Hey, Harry," Ernie Macmillan said as he entered with an entourage of Hufflepuffs. "You forget what day it is? We always meet now."
Harry just smiled and swung his legs as he motioned them in.
"Hello, Harry," Luna said, leading her gaggle of first year Ravenclaws and Neville into the room. "What's in the trunk?" she asked as she seated herself on the floor, looking up, unblinkingly at Harry.
"You'll see," he said. "Part of our new routine." Harry waited patiently, swinging his legs to and fro, as members of the DA wandered in, cast questioning glances around and then seated themselves. Even Hermione was furrowing her brow at him, as he had not told her of his plans.
"I think we're all here," Harry said as he peered around the room. "I'm ready to begin either way." He smiled as he slid off the table and stood before them. He gave the trunk beside him a kick and it shuddered violently, making Luna's first years cling to each other fearfully. "I believe it's time for us to move on. In here," he gestured to the trunk, "is what will be our Dementor." Faces around the room paled and there was more than one audible gasp. "It's a Boggart but I've worked for several weeks to learn the trick to control it and force its shape to be a Dementor. If you've got your Patronus by now, then it's time you moved on to learn to cast it in the presence of a Dementor. Anyone else can have a go with it, too, if they so wish."
Harry paced a small circle and then went on to say, "We'll go one or two at a time versus the Dementor. Meanwhile…I think I've taught you the basic and most common spells of Defense. But I think it's now time to put these to practice in a more practical way." Harry stopped his pacing and stood facing his fellow students assembled before him. "Next, we duel. One on one to begin and duel until one is disarmed. We'll get used to parrying with an opponent and keep rotating about. You'll learn to adapt to the strengths of your opponent and you'll learn your own strengths and weaknesses. Eventually, we'll pair up and duel two on two and up from there. We've got room in here for about a half dozen pairs to duel at once and there's plenty to be learned from watching. While the duels go on, anyone who wants a go at the Dementor can come over here by me. Any questions?"
Padma Patil's hand shot into the air and she asked, "Aren't we going to learn any more new spells?"
Harry nodded once. "I reckon you will. If a spell you've never heard before is levelled at you, you'll learn it right quick. Any other questions?" Several people were already murmuring, eager to get started. Some were looking very uneasy and more than a little apprehensive about the task of having to duel and possibly then face down a Dementor. "Okay, we'll start the duels with the oldest members first. The two oldest will face off and so on down the line. Everyone pair up now so you're ready to take your turn."
The few seventh years in the DA immediately sought each other out and started to work out who was older than whom. Hermione, at this time, slipped through the crowd and cornered Harry. "Harry, I want to go against the Dementor," she said with a challenging look in her eyes.
"Don't you want to duel?"
Hermione drew her wand and smoothed down the front of her robes. "You're not duelling, are you?" she asked with a look that said she clearly knew he wasn't. "I want to practice against a Dementor."
Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the table. "You think I should go through and duel everyone, just like everyone else?" he asked.
Hermione looked like she hadn't been expecting this, as her question had merely been rhetorical. "Well, I didn't mean… If you want--do you want to?" Harry found her temporarily flustered state to be amusing, but she recovered quickly. "No, I think you--we--should let everyone get started against an equally skilled opponent. That is why you told everyone to pair up by age, isn't it? But I expect you'll want to jump in there sooner or later if I know you. I know I will, but, oh, I'd rather let them go at it for now. I thought you said you wanted to have people facing off against the Dementor while the duels were ongoing?"
Harry had to smile; Hermione was just too adorable when she got flustered. Or maybe it was whenever she got excited? Determined? Whatever--he'd let her finger paint across the floor if it was truly what she wanted. "You want to have a go at the Boggart-turned-Dementor?" She nodded eagerly. Yup, eager is a good look on her, too, he thought. "As you wish!"
Harry levitated the trunk back into the corner of the room. The first round of duelling pairs was already getting started.
"Okay," he said as he face the trunk to open towards Hermione. "I'm going to unlock the trunk and from it, a Dementor will rise. It will feel just like a real Dementor to you. Wait to feel it before trying to cast your Patronus. Got it?" Hermione nodded resolutely and held up her wand, ready to fight.
Harry waved his wand to unlock the trunk and then trained his wand upon the Boggart as it rose from the trunk in the form of a Dementor. It was Harry's mind that was giving the Boggart its form. He focused upon the details of a Dementor: its tall black gliding body, its slow rattling breaths, its ability to incite bone-chilling cold and its ability to drown its prey--Hermione--in memories of her deepest despair and sorrow.
"Ex…expecto…," Hermione's voice was weak as he heard her attempting to cast the charm. Like a real Dementor, the Boggart began to advance slowly towards Hermione, unrelenting in its attack. "Expect…o…" Harry could barely hear her voice it was so weak and frail. He flicked his wand and the Dementor turned into a hovering Snitch with a crack.
"Are you all right?" he asked Hermione, his wand still controlling the Boggart Snitch.
She nodded weakly and he watched her eyes regain their focus. "Wow, you were right. It's…wow." Hermione swallowed, still shivering, and readied her wand again. "I'm ready."
Harry shook his head and drew out a bar of Honeydukes finest from his pocket. He tossed it to her and said, "Take this and break off a piece. One piece before you go at it again." He waited before she broke off a chunk of the chocolate. As she ate, he could see the color return to her cheeks and she stopped shivering. "Feel better?"
Hermione smiled and nodded and again readied her wand. "Ready."
She didn't fare any better the second, third or fourth time. "Eat the rest of the chocolate," Harry instructed as he Banished the Boggart back into the trunk and then locked it. "That's all I'm letting you do today." Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but her shivering as she bite off a chuck of chocolate made Harry laugh and shake his head. "Forget it, you only get more and more drained if you face it too often like that. Now you know what to expect for next time." He wrapped an arm around her and ran his hand along her arm to warm her up. "At least you weren't passing out like I was."
They then turned and watched the rest of the DA moving through their duelling pairs. Most not duelling were watching the one who were, but some had obviously been watching Hermione's failed attempts at fending off a Dementor and were now eyeing the trunk with the Boggart warily.
"I have a feeling you may be my only volunteer today," he said to Hermione.
"I see our army is indeed on the road to becoming a formidable one."
Sparks of red and gold shot forth from Harry's wand and he gasped for air at the sudden appearance of Professor Dumbledore in the now vacant Room of Requirement. "Good lord!" he breathed, clutching his chest.
Dumbledore merely twinkled. "They respect you immensely, Harry. They trust you and see you as their leader. They'd follow you anywhere." Dumbledore's deep blue eyes were intense now and no longer twinkling so much as they were simply burning. "If I were to show myself at one of your meetings, I wouldn't garner half the respect as you, Harry. No--it's true. They'd be in awe of me, yes, but not necessarily respect me. It's you they know well enough to respect."
Harry didn't know what he could possibly say to this and so, said nothing. "Perhaps the name 'Dumbledore's Army' is not as apt as it should be?" Dumbledore asked, the twinkling back now. He winked and said cheerily, "I think the name 'Potter's Army' has a fine ring to it."
"They're not my army," Harry quickly said. "They are not an army at all. The name was a joke when we thought it up. They're learning to defend themselves, not fight as an army." The notion that he'd have an army, no matter how small, at his command made his cheeks flush red and embarrassment flare in his stomach.
"You do not think they would fight for you?" Dumbledore asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
"I'd never ask it of them," Harry said quietly. How could he? He was a walking disaster much of the time--look what happened to those who had followed him to the Ministry last year. "The point has always been to enable them to defend themselves."
Dumbledore was still looking at Harry over his glasses and smiled now, beaming, and the pride in his gaze was unmistakeable. "And that, Harry, is why they would fight for you. The gift of skills you give them inspires loyalty, Harry. Loyalty to you."