Change of Heart

by Lplus

During the late summer of 1996 and the first term of his sixth year, Harry Potter wrestles with the machinations of his enemies, the growth of his powers and the consequences of a Change of Heart HT then HG also RHr COMPLETE at last.

9. Counting Down

Ch 9 - Counting Down

The next week seemed to be almost the longest in Harry's life.

The late August weather settled down to be fine and warm again so the roof became accessible for sunbathing, or just lazing around, thinking. Ron benefited most from this; he rapidly read both Harry's new Quidditch books, then beat Harry soundly at wizard chess about five times, then spent his time up on the roof sitting staring into the distance. Ginny's prediction had been all too accurate. By the Wednesday, Ron had prevailed upon his father to take him to Diagon Alley each morning to help Fred and George in their shop. He returned with Mr. Weasley each evening, with tales of dodgy deals and strange customers that eventually became so bizarre that Harry had to accept that someone, probably Fred or George, was making them up.

Ginny had been second with the Quidditch books; she then won three and lost two games of wizard chess with Harry and finally settled down with Harry's book on teaching theory to see how it looked as a career. By Wednesday, she'd decided that teaching was slightly too pedestrian for her tastes, but reckoned Harry should get along fine.

Harry spent one day trying to move objects by mind power, lost several games of chess, was wondering when he'd get a chance to read his quidditch books - and had decided by Wednesday that a special kind of insanity had been visited on him when he'd agreed to teach defensive spells! He was also slightly upset by Ginny's statement that, whilst she thought it boring, he should get along fine as a teacher!'

- o -

Moving objects without spells or wand had proved difficult. Harry had tried it in the study, on the Sunday evening after the others had gone to bed.

After staring bug-eyed at a pencil for a quarter of an hour, he'd achieved nothing beyond a slight headache and a squint. He was obviously doing something wrong, he reckoned - the possibility that it required several years of specialist training never even entered his head. He stopped staring at the pencil and allowed his mind to wander. He'd done something like this recently – he knew he had – but he just couldn't remember where! Eventually he gave up for the evening and decided to head for bed. He stood up and turned the lights out - before opening the door to the hall.

The first chair Harry tripped over nearly fractured his shin. The second sent him sprawling on the floor. Lying there, swearing quietly, he realised that turning out the lights first had been the mark of a first class idiot. He felt for his wand – it wasn't in his pocket. Damn, he thought, light would be useful now – then he remembered. A dark alley, dementors approaching, Dudley running straight for them. His skin crawled as he remembered the panic. His wand had been missing! He'd called for light by reflex! – and his wand had lit up!

Harry concentrated on illuminating the tip of his wand. 'Lumos' he said firmly – and the tip of his wand lit up, a full three feet from his outstretched hand!

- o -

The knowledge that he could at least light his wand remotely increased Harry's confidence tenfold. By the end of the next day, he could lift a pencil using a spell alone or alternatively by imagining what he wanted and waving his wand in the correct movement. He could even raise a feather, robbed from one of the overstuffed cushions, just by thinking the spell.

Between quidditch books, Ron and Ginny had been thoroughly impressed with Harry's ability. Ginny had even tried it herself, though the feather only quivered under her gaze, which might have been because of her breathing so heavily with the effort. Harry had been quite concerned that it would catch fire if she looked at it any more fiercely.

Harry made good progress during the rest of the week, working up slowly till he could lift small items just by looking at them. Ginny made a bit of progress too; the feather definitely lifted off and moved round under her gaze, but she couldn't manage any more. In the end she'd given up, deciding that it was Lord Voldemort's powers helping Harry and that she had no hope of competing. Harry was uncomfortably aware that she could be right, though with no pains in his scar he felt that continuing wouldn't pose any great danger.

- o -

Harry also persuaded Ginny to help try to send mental messages to each other. A whole morning of staring at brightly coloured objects produced no discernible effect, other than to give them spots in front of their eyes.

'It'll never happen Harry,' she grumbled, rubbing her eyes 'It must have been a one off.'

Harry looked gravely at her. 'No it wasn't.'

'No?'

'No. It happened again, when you started that machine.'

Ginny looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

'Really,' he insisted. 'When you shouted - I got a mental picture of the flickering light - before I even left the kitchen.'

Ginny sighed. 'Well, maybe you did, maybe we have to be under some kind of stress to send a message. Remus was going to help us wasn't he?'

Harry could see her discouragement, written in her face.

'Yep, he was.' he said, slightly crossly. 'Oh well, never mind. I'll see if the Headmaster can help, when I get back to Hogwarts.'

For some reason, Ginny looked even more fed up at the mention of Hogwarts, so Harry decided to drop the subject completely.

- o -

As the weekend loomed, thoughts turned more towards school and Harry's imminent journey north.

Harry had finally managed to read his book about teaching - and had realised that he probably could just about cope, at least within a specialist subject. His mind began to turn to lessons once more, though he realised that Professor Moody would have the final say regarding teaching.

Ron finally began to perk up, in the knowledge that he would soon be back at home for two weeks with all his possessions to keep him occupied.

Ginny, on the other hand, became more withdrawn as the week progressed. She seemed to spend a lot of time just looking at nothing in particular, occasionally smiling, or frowning, as if she were watching a scene being played out inside her mind. Harry wondered if she were looking forward to meeting Dean on the train, and was playing through some scenarios in advance.

All three of them had looked through their belongings and, on the realisation that there were still a few more items needed from Diagon Alley, a final expedition was arranged for the Friday.

- o -

A wet day greeted them on Friday morning as they left Grimmauld place and Diagon Alley looked oddly woebegone when they finally passed through the arch from the Leaky Cauldron. Rain dripped off the eaves of the buildings and dribbled out of the bizarre gargoyles around the roof of Gringotts Bank. Hunched figures scurried through the rain, taking temporary refuge under the more severely overhanging buildings before plunging on to the next marginally dryish spot. Harry reckoned it suited his mood absolutely.

Ron had gone over to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes earlier, so Mrs.Weasley, Harry and Ginny trudged through the rain to the shop to collect him.

'Three drowned rats!' chuckled George, 'That's what you look like!'

'George Weasley,' exploded Mrs. Weasley, 'How dare you call your mother a rat!'

'Sorry Mum, ' he muttered, before seeing the huge grin on her face.

'Ha, got you at last.' she laughed. 'Now, where's Ron?'

George looked shifty. 'Err – well, you see – he was trying out one of our new fancy dress lines –'

'What have you done to your little brother!' snarled Mrs. Weasley. 'If he can't go back to school because of you two, you'll both spend the next month as a Toad!'

Fred was frantically trying to calm her down. 'No, it's not like that, Mum, he'll be fine in an hour or so - the spell will wear off!'

'What spell!' Mrs. Weasley looked positively dangerous, now.

'He drank a can of Orangu-Tango' mumbled George.

'What does it do?' hissed Mrs.Weasley. Fred meekly led them to the big storeroom at the back of the shop.

A large red haired orang-utan was climbing round the room, picking up boxes and rearranging the stock on the shelves. Occasionally it would note down some details on a clipboard. Eventually it noticed them, returned hesitantly to the floor and approached the three visitors. Harry noticed how easily it had moved about, using both hands and feet to grip the shelving. The orang-utan stopped in front of Mrs.Weasley and shuffled its feet. Ginny was laughing for the first time in days, in fact she was laughing so hard she was crying and struggling to breathe. Harry was laughing almost as hard and was wondering whether he or Ginny, or both, would end up wetting themselves. Only Mrs.Weasley remained in control, just, though her anger was building to an alarming degree. It finally exploded as the orang-utan started to pick fleas from one arm.

'WHAT THE BLAZES DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? CHANGE HIM BACK IMMEDIATELY!' She screamed.

All might have been well, even then, if George hadn't protested-

'What? Before he's finished stocktaking?'

- o -

Eventually peace was restored and Ron returned to human form, though he kept trying to pick things up with his feet for an hour or so. Leaving a still slightly damp and embarrassed Ginny and still slightly simian Ron in charge of the shop, Mrs Weasley dragging Harry out into the rain past the amazingly lifelike statues of Fred and George that were standing just outside the door. A small dog was inspecting the ankle of the George statue. Mrs. Weasley smiled nastily for a second or two.

'Now then, Harry,' she said, almost calmly, 'Where do you need to go? I've got to do Ginny and Ron's shopping now, so we need a plan of action.'

- o -

It was only when they'd completed the shopping and were returning down the alley that Harry noticed the small office door, between two shops. Excusing himself to Mrs. Weasley he opened the door and went up a flight of steps to a small office, which was occupied by a bored looking nymph sitting at a desk. Behind her a more imposing door led into another office of some sort.

'Er – Excuse me,' quavered Harry. The nymph looked at him disapprovingly.

'I'd like to see Mr.Glowbyne, please. My name is Potter, Harry Potter.

The nymph appeared to be slightly more interested. 'Mr Glowbyne is fortunately free at the moment.' She purred, 'May I ask what you wish to see him about?'

Harry hesitated for a second. 'I –er – I want to –er – I want to make a will.'

- o -

Half an hour later, and somewhat lighter in the pocket, Harry opened the street door of the office and stepped out into the alley. Across the alley, Quidditch Quality Supplies beckoned. The Firebolt GTA was still in the window, calling to Harry insistently. Harry wrestled with his conscience. On the one hand Sirius had given him a Firebolt, on the other hand Sirius had given him a lot more since then, including his life. It was the same thought that had propelled Harry into the lawyer's office which made up his mind - he could well be dead in a year or less. He might as well enjoy the best of something, it wasn't as if he had any other vices. He hurried off to the bank to get some money.

Back at the shop, Ron was almost green with envy.

'Harry, you rat- Can I try it out when we get back, please- Pretty please even!'

Harry nodded. He still didn't feel too comfortable about his purchase - and Ginny's disapproving stare didn't help.

'What are you really going to do with your old Firebolt then, Harry?' she asked suspiciously.

'Keep it, of course.' He looked shocked at the thought of getting rid of it. 'I'll take them both to school. I can use it for practice and use the new one in matches. Maybe someone on the quidditch team can borrow it for matches.'

Ron looked expectant.

'Sorry Ron.' He said quietly, 'You've got a good broom, and the keeper doesn't need the fastest broom on the pitch, you know that!'

Ron looked less that pleased, but nodded nonetheless. 'Maybe Ginny can borrow it, hmmm?'

Harry hesitated. Ginny's broom was a lot older. A better broom would definitely help her but, somehow, Harry didn't think her boyfriend would like it. Some people could be very funny about the symbolism of broomsticks.

'Maybe,' he said vaguely. 'Who knows who's going to be in the team, any way!'

'Apart from you, you mean?' Ginny sounded almost scornful.

'Maybe not even me.' he muttered.

- o -

Harry spent the final Saturday going round checking and double checking seals and charms throughout the house. He even went out into the back garden again, with Ron, and attempted to clear a large enough space for Fred and George to apparate out of and back to each night. Their efforts weren't too successful, but Dobby promised to clear out the garden for Fred and George. Harry could only hope that would be enough. He was conscious of the fact that he should have thought of it before.

Eventually evening came and as the sun set in a gout of fire, Harry, Ron and Ginny watched from the roof, each lost in their own thoughts.

'I wonder if Sirius ever stood up here and watched the sunset?' murmured Harry. The other two remained silent.

Eventually Ron patted Harry on the shoulder and went inside. Ginny stood a while longer, as the light faded, before wordlessly touching Harry's arm and following Ron.

The sky was black, the city lights were glowing all around and Harry was shivering, before he finally left the roof for the warmth of the house.

- o -

Sunday dawned clear and cool.

Harry woke before the sun had risen. Lying in his warm bed, half of him wanted to stay there for ever in a cocoon of warmth, safe and secure from the dangers and uncertainties of life at Hogwarts. The other half of him wanted to get up and get out now, to get back to school and get it over with. It wanted to face the dangers and resolve the uncertainties, whether they led to death or victory; anything to cut short the waiting and sense of foreboding. Neither half was satisfied as he got up and dressed, then trudged slowly down to the kitchen.

The Weasleys could be heard stirring as he descended the stairs. In the kitchen, Dobby had left the table set, the food and plates out, the kettle boiling gently and bacon, eggs and mushrooms ready for cooking. Harry felt as if Dobby had vanished just as he had opened the door, which was probably very close to the truth. He had a sudden pang of concern that Fred and George would take advantage of the house elf - followed by a mental picture of Dobby throwing Lucius Malfoy down the Hogwarts staircase. Dobby could look after himself!

Once awake, Mrs. Weasley became a whirlwind of activity. Ron and Ginny were bullied through breakfast at tremendous speed and sent upstairs to pack. Mrs. Weasley then spent half an hour in the house elves' quarters, reminding Dobby of all the things he already knew perfectly well how to do, before rushing upstairs to complete her own packing. Mr Weasley remained calm amongst the rush, finishing his breakfast in a leisurely manner and winking at Harry when Mrs. Weasley told him to hurry up as she hurried out of the kitchen.

'Alright Harry?' he said, after silence had descended. 'Anything you want me to sort out once you've gone?'

Harry thought for a second. 'No thanks. You'll be coming back for the books, Mr. Weasley, so you can see if anything's wrong. Dobby knows to get in touch, if he needs you.' Harry hesitated. 'I – I've made a will, Mr. Weasley; Mr Glowbyne has it at his offices. If – well – if anything – you know – happens to me, please tell him to deal with it.'

Mr Weasley nodded solemnly.

'I've got – well – quite a lot of money now - and no family,' Harry continued haltingly 'so – well – you're the closest to family I have, and – quite a lot goes to you and Mrs. Weasley- and Ron and Ginny - and Hermione of course.'

Mr. Weasley sat in silence for a while before answering.

'Thank you Harry' he said quietly. 'I'll deal with it, if necessary.' After a while, he smiled slightly. 'I dislike lawyers at the best of times, but that is one visit I really hope I never have to make.' Harry managed a small smile in return.

'Now,' continued Mr. Weasley, 'I'd better do as Molly says and finish packing. The car should be here soon; I want to get us home in time to sort out a few things before tonight. I hope Tonks gets here before the car!'

Harry sat alone at the table, wishing he could go with them.

- o -

Tonks arrived at the same time as the Ministry car. Resplendent in viridian jeans, a white shirt, a studded black leather jacket and long black hair with crimson streaks she made a striking figure as she walked through the door. Only the large nose stud spoiled what was probably the most restrained outfit Harry had seen her wear for weeks!

'Hi Harry, am I late?' she asked cheerfully.

'Not quite, Tonks.' he said, looking behind him. The Weasleys were arrayed in the hall, with suitcases, trunks, bags and one small owl in its cage. Hermes was making his own way. Ginny was sitting on the stairs staring into space, Ron was leafing through one of Harry's quidditch books again and Mr and Mrs. Weasley were beginning to pick up luggage. Mr Weasley led them outside, ensured the enchantments were in place and, with Harry's help, loaded the luggage into the back of the car.

Mr Weasley shook Harry's hand. 'Don't worry Harry,' he said heartily, 'You'll be fine! Madeye'll be here just after dark, to get the bus with you.'

Mrs. Weasley gave him a big hug. 'Take care, Harry!' she said, 'If you need anything, let me know!'

Ginny looked almost distracted for some reason. Harry felt the same way, though he knew why; next time he saw Ginny, she would be with Dean. Harry wasn't looking forward to that one bit, but it was something else he'd just have to get used to. He gave her a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. He was extremely surprised to receive a lingering kiss on the lips in return. He glanced at the door, but Tonks had gone inside.

'Take care, Harry' Ginny whispered. Harry could see a tear on one of her eyelashes!

'You take good care as well.' he murmured, 'I'll see you at the feast.'

'Yeah- at the feast,' she managed a slight smile as he let her go, and she climbed into the car.

Ron looked at him slightly askance for a second, before smiling broadly.

'Watch yourself, Harry, don't learn too many new spells hmm? Your head might burst!'

Harry managed to force an equally broad smile. 'Ha! Yeah, I'll try, mate, trouble is, if I don't learn 'em, someone'll burst my head for me!'

Ron finally climbed into the car beside his sister and it moved away silently. Harry watched it until it disappeared round the corner before walking slowly back into the house.

Tonks was waiting for him in the hallway, wearing a slightly worried look.

'You alright, Harry?'

'Yeah. Pretty much.'

'That was some kiss Ginny gave you.'

So she HAD seen!

'Yeah, can't think why though. She had a crush on me once, but she gave that up years ago!'

'Sure?'

'She was just being nice to me.' Harry paused, 'She's always been nice to me - she just doesn't fancy me now.'

Harry would have liked to drop the subject but Tonks was persistent.

'Really?'

'Well, she had a boyfriend all last year and she's chosen her first boyfriend for this year. I reckon that's a pretty good indication!'

Tonks looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling slightly, 'Yep, I guess you're right. I take it from what you say, you never took much notice of her before.'

'No – No , I didn't.'

'And now?'

'Now is - irrelevant.' Harry muttered, turning towards the kitchen stairs. 'Want a tea before we get stuck into those books?'

Tonks nodded, evidently coming to a decision. 'Yeah, tea, please!' she said cheerfully.

'Toast?' he said temptingly

'Toast!' she said imploringly, following him downstairs.

- o -

Over tea and toast, Harry began to relax. Dora shed her Tonks persona, returning to her slightly more restrained trueself.

'How's the week been then?' she asked.

'Frustrating.'

'Why's that?'

'Oh, three things really – the waiting for one. For two, this teaching thing is worrying me something rotten. I wonder what I was on when I agreed to do it. Half of me wants to run away screaming, the other half wants me to get into a classroom as soon as possible and pummel the little horrors into submission'

'You'll be fine, Harry' giggled Dora. 'I heard Dumbledore and McGonagall talking. They think you're a natural teacher. I reckon you've got a permanent post there, after NEWTs, if you want it.'

'If I survive, you mean!'

'You'll survive. - Now what was the other thing?'

Harry hesitated.

'I'm not progressing as well as I'd like in magic without my wand.'

'Magic without what?'

Harry felt slightly embarrassed. 'Something Professor Moody thought I should be able to do, watch.' He concentrated hard on the empty toast plate and willed it to lift slightly. Gently, it rose above the table about four inches. Harry imagined it moving sideways, and slowly it complied. Now for the difficult bit, down. As it began to go down, Dora coughed, breaking Harry's concentration. The plate landed on the table with a clatter.

'Damn! I'm sorry I put you off, Harry. That's brilliant!' she was smiling broadly at him. 'I can't do that, no way! How on earth do you do it?'

'Concentration, but as you saw, I lose it too easily.'

'I've heard of it being possible but that it needs huge amounts of power.'

'Yeah- well – it's hard work, that's for sure'

Dora looked thoroughly impressed. 'I've just got to try that later, but I guess we'd better make a start on the books, before you wear out your brain.'

- o -

Up in the library, Dora dumped her jacket on a chair, gave Harry the list he'd started and began pulling books off the shelf. As they worked, she began to tell Harry about the life of an Auror.

'It's not glamorous, at all.' She said dismissively. 'Most of it's asking questions, watching, waiting, hiding, usually in unsavoury places - for hours at a time! No, that's Bestiary, Harry. - R, not L.'

'How long did you train?'

'Well the basic training is three years, with exams every year! I nearly failed my last exams too!'

'I thought you passed concealment with top marks?'

'Yeah, but stealth was a nightmare, so was potions. Here, some of these aren't dark arts at all. You should keep this one out and read it. "Legilimens and Occlumency- knowing me, knowing you." Oh dear.'

'Potions?'

'Yeah. What a pain. I reckon you're better off not being an auror. No social life. Irregular working hours, leads which lead nowhere, the knowledge that you're almost certainly wasting your time. – What about this one then "The History of the Pensieve- Tanks for the memory." Good grief!'

'Some of the leads must have brought results, surely?'

'A few, then you have to catch the sods!'

'What about the chases, though?' he asked. 'They must be exciting!'

'Are you kidding? You've been in a fight! People get hurt!' she stopped.

Harry had frozen. Yeah, people got hurt, he thought- and I'm forgetting already. He sat staring ahead, feeling slightly sick.

Dora hauled a chair up beside his and sat down. She put an arm round him gently. 'It wasn't your fault, Harry, really!'

'Yes! It was! I made the mistake.' he said dully, 'Everyone at the meeting knew it. That's why you all voted to include me, so I wouldn't do it again.'

'So you'd know enough not to do it again! Others were responsible, not just you, now come on,' she urged, 'lets get on with these books!'

As the morning wore on Harry began to feel better. Dora was full of chat, most of which went right over his head, but it cheered him no end. He took to watching her as she reached for each book, noting how good her figure was - and trying to ignore the effect this was having on his concentration.

Another good reason to be going away, he thought, At least one lovely unattainable distraction out of the way. It was a pity about the other one, soon to arrive at the other end of his journey.

After a quick late morning break, for a drink and a biscuit, they ploughed through the lower shelves and onto the upper levels.

'We're doing well, Harry' enthused Dora. 'The more we do now, the less to do next weekend on my own. Damn, can you give me a hand here, please?'

Harry got up from the desk. Dora was reaching up, trying to put a book back on its shelf. He stepped up behind her and put his left hand round her to the shelves to steady himself then reached up behind her to push the book home.

For a few seconds, his whole front was pressed against her back and the feel of her warm body against his was quite electrifying. He stepped back, but she turned quickly, putting her hands on his shoulders and giving him a kiss on the lips. His arms were round her and he was kissing her in return before he managed to stop himself and push away - with his face a mask.

Dora's face fell as she realised her mistake. She looked down at her feet.

'I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have done that. I thought – well – when Ginny said that – that – you – ' she stuttered to a halt and took a deep breath. 'I didn't think Ginny would lie about a thing like that!' she said quietly.

For all that Harry wanted Dora to think he didn't care, he couldn't leave her thinking Ginny a liar. 'Ginny wasn't lying, Dora, I promise you.' he murmured.

'So, why don't you? – why? – what? –what is it, Harry- Were you lying to her?'

Harry was silent, trying to find a way to explain.

'Please tell me, Harry, please.' Dora begged. She was looking at him so entreatingly.

'I wasn't lying to her.'

She took another deep breath. 'Do you think I'm attractive, then?'

He couldn't lie to Dora, either. It was time for the brave pills. 'Yes, I think you're very attractive; yes, I sometimes dream about you - yes - yes...'

Dora put her hands on his hips and looked up at him. 'So why not ?'

Time for even more brave pills. 'Because - I don't know how to – begin!' he admitted, 'and even if I did –' he stopped again.

'If you did?' she asked gently.

'Even if I did - I – I don't want to use you!'

There! It was said!

Dora slowly smiled.

'Harry, you're so sweet,' she murmured. 'You really are. I've got to know you over the last few weeks, and you're a really lovely person.' She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently. 'You've forgotten one thing, though.' She continued, 'I'm a Hogwarts girl; I know what I'm doing; you don't have to know anything.'

The After Dark Arts classes remembered Harry, belatedly.

'As for using me,' she licked her lips nervously, 'I told you about being an auror - no social life, irregular hours - Harry, I haven't had a boyfriend for over a year!'

Dora looked down at his chest. 'Us girls have appetites too, Harry,' she whispered. He could hardly hear her now.

She looked up at him again, entreaty in her eyes, 'And I'm so hungry!'

That was the one thing he couldn't fight. A yearning to satisfy her hunger tore through him, turning his insides upside down. All the walls he'd built in his mind, all the towers of logic which said this was impossible, every one crumbled away, like sandcastles before the onrushing tide.

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and drew her towards him. He kissed her forehead, kissed the tip of her nose, and as she raised her face to his, kissed her lips. As their arms went around each other and their bodies pressed closer and closer together, all his fears, all his doubts, and all his inhibitions were swept away by a tsunami of desire.

- o -

Harry and Dora had agreed that she should leave before Moody arrived. She'd set off for The Leaky Cauldron half an hour before sunset. Dobby had provided food for them before Dora had left, so she wouldn't have to prepare a lonely evening meal in her little bedsit. Harry hoped she wouldn't just sit at home all evening.

Harry desperately wished he was going to see her again, but he realised all too well that it just wasn't possible. He knew that he would have to be content with what they had achieved together that day. Dora had certainly got the best from him, more than once. In fact she'd got everything from him - and the dreamy little smile she'd worn for the latter part of the day suggested she hadn't needed any more. Now he knew what a boy and a girl could really do together. Nothing could compare to the pleasure they'd given each other- or to the sadness of the goodbye.

The memories would be with him for ever, a haven of bliss when all around was grey and dismal. Harry hoped Dora's memories would be the same source of comfort to her.