Chapter Five
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"Harry," said Ginny at lunch when at last she found him, "People want to know if you're having the DA this year."
Hermione moved so Ginny could sit next to her, across from Harry.
"I don't see the point," said Harry. "Didn't do Susan Bones much good, did it?"
"But the point was never to teach us to defeat an army of Death Eaters," said Ginny. She was damned if she was going to let him blame himself for this one. "Besides, you heard what Smith said, she put up a good fight."
"So did my parents," said Harry, in what he must have thought to be a tone that would end the conversation. But Ginny was not so easily put off.
"It does make a difference," she said. "They killed, what was it, six Death Eaters? Because of the things you taught her, You-Know-Who's lost six of his followers. That counts for something."
Harry looked away.
Hermione cut in. "Just think about it, Harry. Ginny, stop pushing him."
"Alright," said Ginny. "Let's change the subject. Who's quidditch captain this year?"
"Er, I am," said Ron uncomfortably, glancing at Harry. "I talked to McGonagall. You're a chaser, and I'm still keeper. We'll have to have try-outs again, though, since that's the whole team."
"Harry," said Ginny, turning to him, "You're not still banned?"
"I don't know."
"You should find out," said Ron. "We could use you."
"I can't imagine that Umbridge's ban would still hold," said Hermione. "It was so obvious that the only reason she was doing it was to keep Malfoy on her side."
Lucia glanced up from her meager plate of food. "Hmm?"
"Oh," said Hermione, "Sorry, I was talking about Draco."
Lucia nodded.
"Anyways," continued Hermione, "the only reason I can see for Harry not to play quidditch is if Dumbledore wants him to.... focus on other things."
Harry, Ron and Ginny stared at her.
"You're not serious," said Harry "You don't really think he'd keep me from playing quidditch! Would he?"
"That would be terrible," said Ron. "For Harry and for us. We'd lose every game."
"You won the Cup last year without him," said Hermione, "and I hardly think living without quidditch is going to kill anyone."
"It would kill me," said Harry. "It really would."
"Why?" Hermione asked, exasperated.
"Because if I can play quidditch, at least I'll have something to distract me..."
"That's exactly the point," said Hermione. "I can't think of a worse time for you to be distracted from what you have to do."
"What I have to do..." Harry echoed faintly. "And just what is that, exactly?"
"Drop it, Hermione," warned Ron.
"No, I won't," said Hermione. "Harry, it's your war. You know that. But you're not keeping up with the news; you're not taking care of yourself; you haven't even asked yet about your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which you know is the most important-"
"Shut up," said Harry suddenly. "I really don't want to hear it, okay?"
Hermione sighed and her expression softened. "But you need to hear it," she said. "The sooner you face up to it, the sooner it'll all be over."
"It's not my war," Harry muttered.
"Oh really?" said Ginny, having heard quite enough. "That's not how I hear it."
Harry glared at her. "Who told you?" he demanded.
"Uh oh," said Lucia.
Harry turned on her. "You told her?"
"She asked." Lucia spread her hands in a helpless gesture. "How was I supposed to know you weren't telling people?"
"How did you even know?"
"My father's Lucius Malfoy. I've always known."
Ron cleared his throat loudly. "Care to tell us what you're all talking about?"
"You haven't told them," Harry said to Ginny. "I'm surprised."
"Which proves you could have told me in the first place." Ginny crossed her arms and stuck out her chin defiantly.
"Told us what?" asked Hermione.
Harry just shook his head.
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Professor McGonagall sought Harry out after the meal, intercepting him on his way out of the hall.
"Potter, there are some things we need to discuss."
By now, Harry was used to her calling him into her office, and had rather expected it now. But he still squirmed at the stern look she always wore. It was easy to forget that he wasn't a frightened first-year anymore.
In her office, McGonagall told him to sit down. She herself remained standing, which for some reason struck Harry as ominous.
"You have surely noticed, Potter," said she, "that your schedule lists no Defense Against the Dark Arts class for you. This is because you are to be given private lessons. The Headmaster has informed me that you are... well aware of the situation. Surely you understand, then, the necessity for providing you with extra training."
She gave Harry a look that asked for confirmation. He nodded.
"Professor Moon will be instructing you privately on Friday evenings. You may note that the timing is to allow you to recooperate over the weekend." She looked at him significantly.
Vigorous training on Friday nights.... was she mad? "But," he said "Professor, what about quidditch?"
"You may be up for it, and you may not. The fact is that you will go through this training. If you can play quidditch afterward, that's your choice."
"So I take it I'm not banned?"
"Heavens no, Potter! That awful woman is gone, along with all of her silly rules."
"Excuse me, Professor, but what does Fudge say about that?"
She paused. "Currently the Minister is following Professor Dumbledore again, which means that he looks the other way when it comes to this school. And from the sound of what Professor Moon has in store for you, I would pray it stays that way if I were you."
"Er, and what exactly does she have in store for me, Professor?"
"It's all very confidential; I know almost nothing about it. Even if I did, I would not be at liberty to divulge information to you until you are faced with it. My understanding is that she has a very... contraversial approach to training, and she will need your full cooperation. Right now that means that whatever she tells you supercedes anyone else's orders except the Headmaster's. If she tells you to stop eating, you do it. If she tells you to make friends with Vincent Crabbe, you do it. If she tells you not to go to your regular lessons, you do it. Is that clear?"
"She says 'Jump' and I say 'How high?'"
"Exactly."
"How do I know I can trust her?"
"You leave that to the Headmaster."
"Er.... sorry, Professor, but that hasn't exactly worked out so well for me in the past."
McGonagall sighed. "Be that as it may, Potter, you're going to have to trust him once again. There is simply no other choice. And I hate to do it, but if you refuse to cooperate I'll have to take points from Gryffindor. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor. May I go now?"
"I don't see why not. Oh, and Potter, I am well aware that I cannot keep you from repeating this conversation to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but do try to keep it to yourself as much as you can. The less of this that gets out, the better."
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Harry had no more classes that day, as he was only taking five. After he emerged from McGonagall's office, he took the moment alone and decided to go to see Hagrid. He was pleased to see his friend returning from the Forbidden Forest, Fang trotting behind him like a lap dog.
"Harry!" boomed Hagrid, "Good ter see yeh. Been wonderin' how you was gettin' on."
"I'll live," said Harry. "How're you?"
"Alrigh', alrigh'." He peered down at Harry as he opened his door. "No Ron 'n' Hermione today?"
"Yeah, we might be in a fight, I don't know." As the words left him, Harry wondered why he'd said it. He supposed it was true; they weren't likely to be happy with him for keeping the prophecy from them. But what business was it of theirs anyway?
"A fight? You lot? Never."
If Harry didn't know Hagrid better, he could've sworn the man was being sarcastic. After all, Hermione and Ron were always bickering, there was that long period in third year when Harry and Ron had refused to speak to her at all, then in fourth year he could have murdered Ron over the whole Goblet of Fire incident. On the whole, Harry thought that relations between the three of them had always been somewhat turbulent. Although, now that he thought about it, it was only last year that he was the one fighting the other two. And even his angry outbursts had never turned into anything big. Ron and Hermione seemed quite unaffected by his temper, and never responded in kind. When they were together, that was. Separately they would never forgive him for shouting...
"Harry, did yeh want ter come inside?"
Harry realized that while he had been lost in his thoughts he was still standing in Hagrid's doorway, with Hagrid looking down at him with concern.
"Yeh sure you're alrigh', Harry?"
"No," said Harry slowly, "I'm not sure at all. I'm sorry, I..." Harry had no idea what he had intended to say. His brain seemed not to be functioning properly. He trailed off as he sat down at Hagrid's table.
"Yer look tired ter me." Hagrid began going about making tea.
"I am tired, Hagrid."
"Not been sleepin, have yeh?"
"No. And when I do..."
"Yeh get nigh'mares."
"How'd you know?"
"Me dad." Hagrid's voice was suddenly gruffer than usual.
"Right," said Harry. He hadn't forgotten that Hagrid had lost his father, but until now he had never thought losing Sirius was comparable. But Sirius was the closest thing to family Harry had ever known.
Feeling a certain constriction in his chest and burning in his eyes, Harry said chokingly to Hagrid that he thought he'd better go. And he did, before the man could even speak a word of protest.
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Ron set off with Hermione down the sloping lawns towards Hagrid's cabin. No sooner had they left they stepped out of the great front doors and into the hot sun, however, then he saw Harry coming up towards them. He was walking with his head down, watching his feet, and he didn't see them. Ron looked at Hermione, and they silently agreed to approach him.
The two met up with Harry halfway across the distance to Hagrid's hut. He still didn't seem to notice them, so Ron caught him by the arm as he passed.
"Hey, Harry, you okay?" he asked.
Harry jumped and flinched oddly at Ron's touch. As he raised his face to meet Ron's eyes, he revealed red eyes and a lower lip bitten stubbornly into place.
"Harry..." said Hermione. She glanced at Ron again, who nodded slightly. Care of Magical Creatures could wait.
They led Harry back up to the castle, one on either side of him like a bodyguard. He shook slightly, silently.
Hermione pulled the others into an empty room off the entrance hall, the same one where first years waited before the sorting on their first evening at Hogwarts.
Harry was still biting his lip, so hard he had drawn blood.
"It's okay, Luv," said Hermione softly. She reached up and removed Harry's glasses from his face. "Cry if you want."
Harry half-fell to the floor and let loose, his face in his hands, sobs racking his body.
Ron and Hermione knelt beside him cautiously. Ron didn't know what to do. He had never seen Harry weep before, and couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone do it this passionately. He tried to remember what Harry had done those nights in their first year when Ron would get tearful from homesickness. Harry had just let him sit on his bed, and that had been enough, as far as Ron's memory went. Ron looked over at Hermione, seeking some clue of what he should do. But she looked just as helpless as he. She was watching Harry with a sad frown on her face.
Harry started to keen, hardly breathing between howls of misery. Ron felt tears well up in his own chest.
"Breathe, Luv," said Hermione suddenly to Harry.
Harry did so obediently, and eventually his sobbing had reduced to quiet tears and sniffles. He took his face from his hands but drew his knees up and rested his head against them.
Tentatively, Hermione reached out and gently pushed a hand against his hair in a gesture that seemed helpless, a sort of failed attempt at intimacy.
"Want to tell us what this is about?" she asked.
Ron looked at her sharply, but her attention was on Harry.
After a moment, Harry muttered, "It's nothing."
Ron laughed. "It's not nothing."
Harry sighed and lifted his head. "It's been months," he said, "But..."
"You loved him," said Hermione. "Of course you're still sad."
That was apparently too much for Harry, because he started sobbing again. This time Ron couldn't hold back his own tears, though he covered his mouth with both hands.
When Harry was too exhausted to cry anymore, his breathing slowly returned to normal and he finally lifted his head once more. He looked at Ron and sniffed, then asked scratchily, "Why are you crying?"
"Can't help it," said Ron brokenly. "I've just never seen you cry before."
Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes, but she was on the whole very composed.
"I'm sorry," said Harry.
"Don't be," said Ron.
"I just... can't stand it," said Harry slowly.
"We know," said Hermione. "But you'll be okay."
Harry shook his head.
(A/N: And sorry for Hagrid's accent.)