X
XIX
XIXIX "Of Dreams And Sneaking" XIXIX
Harry was standing in the middle of what he recognized as the room in which he and Nicolas had practiced wandless spellcasting. The room was huge, though. It was easily the size of the Great Hall. The walls were lined with shelves full of items.
He walked forward, and noticed that his footsteps echoed strangely, filling the room with a ghostly hollow sound. Comprehension dawned on him.
He was dreaming.
He looked around the room, wondering what to do now. Usually his dreams just carried themselves forward. Usually, Harry wasn't fully aware that he was really lying in bed and that everything was in his head. The Lucid Dreaming potion was definitely working.
Well, it was a dream. What could he do? Could he fly?
Harry began to run, and took one flying leap. He soared into the air for a second, before heading toward the stone floor. He closed his eyes in concentration, forced himself into the air. He was flying.
He turned over, dove back toward the ground. He tumbled across the bouncy stone floor, and jumped to his feet.
What else could he do, now that he knew he was asleep?
He thought for a second about getting laid, but then remembered that Snape and Perenelle would soon be reading all about this. In fully honest detail. Perhaps he would skip the sex.
Well, he also had a Bonding potion in him, so he supposed he should see how that would work out. Was he ready to try to get into Voldemort's head?
But the Bonding potion gave him an idea. He scanned the shelves, willing it to be there, and it was. "Accio mirror," he said, and a small mirror flew into his hands. He looked into it.
"Sirius, are you there?"
Harry smiled as the face of Sirius Black replaced his own reflection. Sirius smiled up at him. "Hey, Harry. How are you?"
"Alright. I'm asleep."
"I noticed."
"Are you really here?"
"You called me. I came."
"Can you always do that? Come here when I call you, I mean."
Sirius furrowed his brow. "It is kind of difficult. But I'll always try."
Harry smiled. "Sirius, I have about a million things I want to talk to you about. I don't even know where to start."
"Well then, let's start with the most important. You accepted the prophecy."
Harry closed his eyes, thinking about the night he lost Sirius.
"I don't blame you, Harry," said Sirius, knowing what Harry was thinking. "I never did. So you can stop with all of that."
"I just... I miss you so much sometimes."
"Kid, I miss you too. Your parents say hi, by the way."
Harry looked at him in surprise. "Are they there!"
"No, not right now. But I told them the last time I saw you, and they said to tell you they love you and they're proud of you. We're all watching over you. You know that, right?"
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"Well, we are. You got tough times ahead."
"I know." Harry felt distant again, even in his own dream. "Sirius, do you know more... I mean, can you see... do you know what's going to happen?"
Sirius smiled kindly. "The prophecy is real, Harry. You have the power to defeat Voldemort. It's all a matter of what you do with that power."
Harry cast a friendly glare at his godfather. "You realize that's not much of an answer, right?"
Sirius laughed. "Sharp as a dragon's claw, you are. I can't really say anymore just yet. But I can say that you need to tread carefully with your new, um, relationship."
Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. He opened his mouth, but Sirius cut him off.
"Don't worry. I know not to mention who it is. Tell that greasy git that he can kiss my furry tail if he thinks I'm going to reveal my godson's secrets to him!"
Harry laughed. "You're not upset about it then?"
"Of course not. Just keep in mind who it is you've chosen. Keep your eyes open, you know?"
"You mean I should use Legilimency on him?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That's your call."
"I'm not going to get any straight answers or advice from you tonight, am I?" asked Harry with a sarcastic grin.
"Not unless you want me revealing your secrets to that pointy nosed, greasy haired..."
"Friend of mine," Harry finished, eyeing Sirius reproachfully. "But, no, I don't you want you to reveal my secrets to him."
"You and Snape," Sirius laughed. "That's something, let me tell you. How's your wandless spellcasting coming?"
"Pretty well. Why didn't you ever tell me my mother could do it?"
Sirius shrugged. "I didn't know myself. Lily had apparently wanted to keep it a secret until she was trained. She figured it would only make you three more of a target. She only told James and Dumbledore, well, and Nicolas and Perenelle when they came to England to train her. But then she had to go into hiding."
Harry was withdrawing into memories that weren't his own. He imagined the fear surrounding his parents' decision to go into hiding. It must have been an awful time.
Sirius changed the subject. "How do you feel about Legilimency?"
"Okay, I guess. I mean, I'm really getting the hang of it, but I just feel so guilty whenever I use it on anyone but Snape."
"Good. Shows you've got character. But don't let that stop you from using it on Voldemort."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, that is a special circumstance, isn't it?"
"It is indeed. Have you gone into his head yet?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you first."
"I'm honored."
"You should be."
They laughed.
"I guess it's time then," they said at the same time.
"Sirius, I'm sorry I didn't ever use the mirror," said Harry, feeling like his heart was breaking.
"No problem, Harry. I understand now why you didn't."
The room began to grow dark.
"Harry, before you're gone... You've got courage, and you're strong. You've got a good heart. Use all of these things, okay? No matter how much it hurts. They'll see you through."
Harry nodded. "Sirius, I—" The room went dark. The mirror was gone.
miss you.
Harry knew that feeling. It was quite familiar.
He reached his hand out and stroked his pet snake that was curled around a thick branch that hung from the ceiling. He was sitting at his desk, lost in thought. He was alone in his study except for Nagini.
Harry was tempted to make his way deeper into Voldmort's thoughts, but he didn't dare after Snape's warning. He stayed on the surface, just getting used to the feeling. He wanted to know it for when he needed to come back.
He stood up, walking into the bathroom. It was a luxuriously large room with a circular tub that was eight feet in diameter. He turned on the faucets, and felt the warm water as it poured forth. He stood up, looked into the full-length mirror, and began to undress.
Harry woke up.
"I did not need to see that," he said aloud.
XIXIX
Harry sat at the breakfast table facing the Slytherins. He hadn't gotten to see Malfoy the night before, and he wanted to see if he could make eye contact with him—let him know he was sorry, and see his reaction to Harry's new haircut.
Filch had cornered Harry on the way to the Great Hall and told him he would be serving his detentions for the next three nights. He seemed positively filled with glee, so Harry knew that he had three very long nights ahead of him. He was wondering how to let Malfoy know this when his friends arrived to breakfast.
"You're up early," said Ginny, ruffling his short hair.
"Bad dream," said Harry simply.
"Yeah, how did it go?" asked Hermione.
"Well it was good at first. I even got to talk to Sirius." Harry launched into an explanation of everything that had happened in his dream. It was especially fresh on his mind since he had spent nearly an hour writing about it before the pen had been satisfied that he had told everything about the dream there was to tell.
"EEEWW!" they all yelled out when he got to the part about Voldemort undressing for his bath.
"So you can understand why I couldn't get back to sleep after I finished writing about it. I had to write down every little detail about his body, including his—"
"That's enough," stated Ron, pushing his plate away.
Harry laughed and winked at Ginny, who handed over a sickle. During the summer last year, Ginny and Harry had made a bet on who could disgust Ron enough to get him to stop eating. After a few weeks of making everyone sick except Ron, they had mostly given up, but kept trying from time to time. After three quarters of a year, Harry had finally won the bet.
He looked up to see Malfoy coming into the Great Hall with his arm around Pansy. Her hair was ruffled, and she looked dazed and happy. Malfoy was wearing a cocky smirk. He didn't even glance over to the Gryffindor table, and he sat with his back to Harry.
Harry growled softly, and looked angrily down at his plate. But then he remembered what Snape had said about projecting strength of character. He forced the scowl off his face and rejoined his friends in conversation.
XIXIX
The Gryffindor Quidditch team had practice Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and Harry had detention Saturday and Sunday nights, so that left Harry with precious little time over the weekend to complete his homework. He had absolutely no downtime.
Filch was indeed glad that Harry had "earned" three detentions, because Filch had just swept, mopped, and waxed the stairs of the North Tower, and wanted Harry to do the others during his detentions.
It was long, slow, arduous, boring, tiring, back-breaking, pointless work. Harry knew that if Filch would let him use magic, he'd be done with all of the Towers in one night. As it was, Mrs. Norris watched him very closely, ready to whisk off to fetch Filch at the faintest whisper of a spell. Harry only finished the East Tower Saturday night.
That night, Harry returned to Voldemort's head. Once again, Voldemort wasn't doing anything very exciting, so Harry just hung around, soaking up the surroundings and getting used to the 'feel' of Voldemort.
After a very long time, a few Death Eaters came in. They reported that they had failed again to gain control of Fudge. The man was just too well protected for anyone to get close enough to use the Imperius curse on him. Voldemort grew angry, and the pain in Harry's scar pushed him into the waking world before the imminent torturing began.
Harry wrote down everything he could remember. It was very early in the morning, but he couldn't get back to sleep. He made his way to the common room and worked on his homework. This had apparently been "essay week," because every single teacher he had had assigned at least four feet.
He eventually fell back asleep, his face pressed down on the still wet ink of his History of Magic essay. Ginny had a good laugh when she woke him up that morning.
"What's that about Native American dancing rituals?" she asked, squinting at his cheek. Harry grumbled and made his way upstairs to clean up before heading to breakfast.
Once again, Malfoy sat with his back to Harry, and did not so much as glance at him. Once again, Harry pretended that this did not bother him in the slightest.
He worked on his homework all morning, practiced Quidditch all afternoon, and cleaned stairs late into the night. He trudged up the now pristine steps to the Gryffindor common room, exhausted and aching all over. He really hoped Voldemort would be in a non-violent mood tonight. And that he would have no desire to take a bath or otherwise undress his person. Harry really wanted a full night's sleep.
No such luck. Voldemort was highly agitated when Harry arrived in his head, and a searing pain throbbed in his forehead. But Harry held on, forcing down the pain, when he realized that Snape was in the room. He had the immediate impression that the Potions Master was in no danger, but he held on to make sure.
Snape was informing him that Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel were current guests of Dumbledore's at Hogwarts, and would be staying for an unspecified amount of time, and for an unspecified reason. All Dumbledore would tell him was that his old friends had come for a visit. Both of the Flamels had shown a great interest in Snape's potions laboratory. They were far more powerful than Snape, and affected him in strange ways, causing him to smile and be amicable against his own desire. He feared they may come to suspect him of an allegiance with Voldemort if they continued to use such magic on him.
Harry was very interested to hear that the Flamels were at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's protection. This meant one of two things. Either they had decided to recreate the Sorcerer's Stone after realizing they did not want to die after all, or, they had somehow surmised that Voldemort had planned on abducting them and forcing them to create one for him.
Voldemort had not been able to find their previous hiding spot, but now he knew exactly where they were. He wondered if it would necessary to attack Hogwarts, of if he could simply abduct the Flamels from the grounds with a few well-placed operatives, perhaps with the help of Polyjuice Potion. Or, perhaps easier still, if Snape could manage his way into the good graces of the Flamels, and came to find out they were in fact creating another Stone, he may be able to simply steal it from them as soon as it was completed.
Harry instructed Snape that he was to continue to allow the Flamels to cause Snape to be amicable, and that he was to find out if they had come to Hogwarts with the intention of creating another Sorcerer's Stone. Snape nodded in obedience, and Harry ordered him back to his post.
He returned to his study and began to pace, excited at the prospect of finally achieving immortality. The longer he paced, the less Harry's scar burned—the less he had to focus on keeping the pain down. Finally, Harry was just skimming the surface of Voldemort's thoughts with very little effort. Voldemort was reviewing and revising his plans for the future, trying to decide what exactly was necessary in order to get the world back on track, in order to fix the many things that had gone wrong so long ago. He was relieved at the idea of immortality, because it gave him the time to actually make the world a better place.
Harry woke himself up, outraged and confused. Did Voldemort really think that everything that he was doing was for the overall betterment of the world? The urge to dig deeper had been almost overpowering, until Harry had finally had to force himself to wake up so that Voldemort would never know he had been in his head.
Harry rolled over and grabbed the pen and parchment. A quick Lumos lit Harry's darkened bed enough for him to see what he was writing. He wrote for a long time, capturing every thought Voldemort had had regarding Snape, the Flamels, Hogwarts, the Sorcerer's Stone, and his plans for the future.
Harry checked his watch. It was just after 3:00am. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep again that night. He threw on some clothes, gathered his parchments full of dreams. He slipped on his invisibility cloak, and headed for the dungeons.
Harry walked quickly, wondering if he should really do this. He finally decided he didn't care if he should or not, he was going to.
When he reached the stone serpent, Harry hissed in parsletongue, "Is Professor Snape in?"
"Hello, invisible one," replied the serpent. "Yes he is. Shall I call him for you?"
"Please do," said Harry.
Harry stood waiting for a few moments, wondering if Snape had already fallen asleep, and how he would react to Harry's visit.
Presently, the door opened, revealing a tired-looking Snape in night robes. Snape stood back for a second indicating that Harry should enter with a slight move of his hand. Then he stepped out into the hallway and hissed angrily, "There is no one here, you infernal serpent! Do not wake me with such pranks again!"
He stepped back inside, and cast a silencing charm on the room. Harry stepped out from his cloak. Snape was glaring at him while he set his things down on the table in the sitting area, but as soon as Harry looked up at him, his eyes turned to concern.
"Harry, you look exhausted."
"I am," Harry agreed. "I can't sleep more than a few hours on this potion."
Snape nodded. "I was afraid of that. And the few hours you do get are probably not productive sleep, since you are presumably doing magic to enter the Dark Lord's head rather than simply resting."
"If that is the case, I haven't had any real sleep since Thursday night. Class is gonna be a bitch tomorrow."
"Especially mine," said Snape with a raised eyebrow.
"Did you know that Voldemort had plans to abduct Nicolas and Perenelle?"
"Not specifically, but we realized there was a good chance of it after he returned to power. They were hidden by the Fidelis Charm before they came to Hogwarts. They are just as safe here."
Harry shook his head. "Voldemort wants you to swipe the Sorcerer's Stone if they make another one. And if they don't, he's going to send some Death Eaters to Hogwarts, disguised with Polyjuice Potion, to abduct them so he can torture them into making a Stone for him."
Snape massaged the bridge of his nose and sat down. Harry sat across from him. "Well, we knew it was only a matter of time before he made a move against Hogwarts. And I suppose it is more his style to make it such a subversive attack. Think of the fear it would inspire." He laughed dryly. Harry gave him a wary smile. Snape caught his eye for a second, but looked away quickly.
Harry was growing more and more tired by the second. "I'll just leave these dream notes, if that's okay. After you read them, let me know what you think the Order should know so that I can inform Dumbledore." Snape nodded, and they stood up.
As they walked to the door, Snape asked, "Mr. Potter, did you have any trouble with the serpent guarding my door when you arrived this evening?"
Harry shook his head, looking down at the invisibility cloak he was preparing to put on, just in case he couldn't pull off the innocent look. "Why?" he asked.
Snape looked almost calculating. Or maybe that was Harry's imagination. "It didn't say anything... strange to you?"
"No," said Harry. He slipped on the invisibility cloak to cover the smile he was about to break into. "Although it does seem to like that I'm invisible. It called me your 'invisible friend', or something like that."
The puzzled and perturbed look on Snape's face was priceless. The serpent's passwords must really be getting to him.
XIXIX
Snape had not been lying when he implied his class would be a rough one. He didn't let it show, but Harry could tell that Snape was tired after his late-night meetings with Voldemort, and then with Harry.
He snarled his instructions, insulted his students, and docked more points from Gryffindor in a single class period than Harry could ever remember him doing. But even without all of these telling behaviors, Harry sensed Snape's thoughts were slower than usual. He only looked once, however, because Snape immediately began yelling at him for stirring his potion too slowly, and docked 20 points from Gryffindor for the mistake. He also held Harry after class, yelling about his ineptitude until every other student had filed out of the room.
Then he quietly told Harry that his dream notes had given Snape and Perenelle sufficient information to begin work on the next potion. He therefore had no need to continue the current potion for the rest of the week. And that he should go to Dumbledore's office after dinner and report to him Voldemort's thoughts in dealing with Nicolas and Perenelle.
Then he yelled at Harry to get out of his classroom and not come back until he had learned to follow directions and brew a decent potion.
Outside the classroom, Ron and Hermione were waiting. Harry also noticed Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were hanging around nearby. Harry spoke loud enough to make sure Malfoy overheard him.
"Ron, I forgot to ask if you would Captain the team at practice tonight. I have another detention with Filch, and I just know he's going to have me cleaning steps until dawn for the third night in a row!"
Ron gave Harry a weird look. "Mate, you asked me on Friday if I would. I told you it was no problem."
Hermione looked at him, concerned. "Are you okay, Harry?"
Harry ran his fingers through his short hair as he passed by Malfoy and Zabini. "Yeah, just tired, I guess." He glanced at Malfoy, who never once looked in his direction.
That afternoon, Harry was studying in the library with Luna. Harry had been surprised when he realized that, despite Luna's quirks, she was amazingly brilliant when it came to her studies. She absorbed information even better than Hermione. Studying with her was interesting because she thought about things differently than anyone else. Whenever he asked Hermione a question, she would delve into a long explanation of established theories. Luna had her own theories, which were far more interesting than those in the books, and which Harry often found very memorable.
Luna was deep into an explanation of the evolution of the use of dragon scales when Ginny stormed into the library and flung herself into the seat across from Harry.
Harry looked up into the scowling eyes of his red-headed sister, and for a moment, feared for his life. But he gulped his fear down, and asked calmly, "Is something the matter, Ginny?"
"Yes!" she snapped.
Luna looked at Ginny with a spacey smile. "Dragon scales can also be used in Problem Solving Draughts. This was discovered in 324AD when Kermit the Questioner couldn't sleep for five days while he wondered about the meaning of life. Some say that his frustration led him to trying every magical component he could think of in his potion to help him find the answer, but I think it was a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation that inspired him to add dragon scales to—"
"I don't need a Problem Solving Draught!" said Ginny angrily. "What I need is for Harry to pick up a quill and a piece of parchment and write Victor Krum and tell the Bulgarian son of a bitch to stop writing to Hermione to set up a meeting time for him with Harry!"
Harry slapped his forehead. "I forgot! Don't tell me he wrote her again? It's only been a few days!"
"Well, he's impatient. And a jerk. No 'Hi, how are you. I miss you.' Just 'Vie haven't you set up a meeting for me vith Harry? Are you still mad?' " she spat, imitating Victor's accent. "I mean, what a git! It's only been two and a half weeks since he dumped her!"
"He misses her," said Luna airily. "And he's worried. He doesn't know how to say that, so he writes to her about Harry instead. He's probably trying to keep a friendship open by reminding her that they have things in common—like wanting to help Harry fight the Dark Lord."
Ginny's jaw dropped. Harry was floored. They sat there in silence for a moment looking at Luna, and thinking over this new insight.
Finally, Harry opened his bag, and said, "At any rate, I'll write him right now."
Ginny nodded. "And I'll... Luna, will you come with me to talk to Hermione? She thinks Victor doesn't care about her at all, and I think it would help to hear your point of view."
Luna nodded, and left with Ginny, while Harry set to work on his letter to Victor. He politely explained that Hermione was very busy, and suggested Victor just write him whenever he needed to talk to him. Hermione might like to hear from him, but not about business matters with Harry. He could meet him during the next Hogsmeade weekend, or, if he were coming to visit Dumbledore again, Victor could request Harry's presence at the meeting.
He re-read the letter a few times, and then packed up his bag to head to dinner. But as soon as he stepped out in the hallway, he was met by a very angry Crabbe.
"I told you to stay away from Luna!" he yelled, and then punched Harry in the side of the head.
Everything went black.
XIXIX
Harry missed dinner, but woke up in time for detention. He was really sore, and Madam Pomfrey told him she had had to mend several broken ribs. Harry had faint bruises on his face and torso, but Madam Pomfrey assured him they would completely fade away before he went to bed that night.
Harry was relieved that he had not been cursed at all, and that his wand remained unharmed. Harry decided this was probably not a resurrection of the anti-DA attacks so much as a jealous Crabbe attack. Somehow, that made him feel better.
Dumbledore ambled into the infirmary as Harry was getting ready to go. They sat down and Harry told him every thought Voldemort had had regarding Nicolas and Perenelle. Dumbledore repeated what Snape had told him—they hadn't known this for sure, but it was not unexpected.
Harry was exhausted after detention, and extremely happy that he didn't have to take any potions before bed. He slept the full night.
After Quidditch practice the next night, Harry snuck down to the lake to wait for Malfoy, but he never showed up. Harry was pissed off, and even more frustrated, as he headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione was asleep in a chair by the fireplace, surrounded by stacks of books. As Harry walked over to her, he noticed that one of the open books was actually a box disguised as a book. Inside was a huge stack of letters to Hermione from Victor Krum.
"Hey, 'Mione," Harry said softly, rubbing her tear-stained cheek. She roused, and looked at him with huge red eyes. "You and Victor wrote to each other a lot, didn't you?"
She nodded as she sat up and began gathering her things. "He'd send them by evening post so I could read them by candlelight. He thought it made his words more romantic."
"Did it?"
"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up again. Harry sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.
"It's okay, 'Mione," he whispered softly.
"I know," she sniffed. "It's just that we shared everything. And I guess that Luna has a point about him trying to keep our communication open, but it would just be easier... I don't know, if it was all or nothing."
Harry nodded and sat back in his seat. "I know what you mean," he said.
Hermione eyed him glumly. "You too, huh?"
Harry nodded, really wishing he could speak openly about it. "He won't talk to me," he said sullenly, trying to convey all of the pain and confusion and frustration he felt in that simple statement.
"He?" asked Hermione. "Harry, are you gay?"
He shrugged. "I don't think so. I mean, I like girls too." He laughed dryly. "After Cho, I'd say I'm just not very good with girls, but, I'm not doing too hot here either."
"Who is it?"
Harry shook his head slowly. "He doesn't want me to tell anyone."
"Was he muggle-born?" asked Hermione. Harry looked at her like he was about to laugh, so she clarified, "I mean, does he have some taboo against his sexuality?"
"No, it's... it's just because it's me."
Hermione nodded. "People might think he was just using you." Harry stared at the fire. She was wrong the way she meant it, but her words struck true in Harry's heart. "Do you think he's using you?"
Harry just looked into the fire.
They leaned on each other's shoulders across the armrests of the chairs they sat in and stared into the fire. They didn't say anything, but Harry felt very close to his best friend, sharing the intimate feeling of heartache with her.
XIXIX
Wednesday night after Quidditch practice, Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak and headed to the third floor for a wandless spellcasting lesson with Nicolas.
"Well, you seem to be in a bad mood," said Nicolas pleasantly when Harry arrived.
Harry tried to smile, but it didn't work out so well.
"Ah, troubles of the heart, eh? Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Alright, then let's get to work. No use wallowing around, right?"
Harry thought about how Perenelle had used magic to lighten the mood in Snape's office, and he wondered why Nicolas wasn't doing the same. As it was, Harry was hurt and frustrated, and was getting quite irritated at Nicolas' perpetually jovial mood.
"Well, it's late and I daresay you're tired already after Quidditch practice, so why don't we skip the review, and head straight into some more complex spells." Harry nodded. "How are you at Transfiguration?"
"Okay," said Harry.
"You're lying," said Nicolas. "Professor McGonagall tells me you're quite good at it, and that she has noticed a marked improvement this year over last."
Harry shrugged. "Okay, I'm pretty good."
"That's better. Now, why don't we start easy." He raised his hand and a statue of a gargoyle flew into it. Harry recognized it from his last lesson. "See if you can manage to transfigure this stone statue into a wooden sculpture of a mouse."
Harry scoffed to himself. That would be no problem. He raised his hand, but at the last minute, decided to one-up Nicolas. He transfigured the statue into a real mouse.
Nicolas looked delighted. "You didn't even need to warm up! Have you been practicing, then?"
"A little," said Harry, nonchalantly. He was feeling a strange flux of emotion within him. His Malfoy-inspired heartache hadn't declined, and now he also felt irritated at his friend Nicolas, and felt like he needed to show off to the man. He didn't know why he had the sudden desire, the sudden need to impress him, but he did. "Can't you come up with something more challenging?" Harry growled. Why was he growling?
Nicolas stood up swiftly. "Transfigure this table into a horse," he commanded.
Harry looked at the table, and it became a horse. The horse looked alarmed, and started to buck. Harry transfigured it into a glass of water—a very difficult change even with the use of his wand.
Nicolas looked at him wide-eyed.
Harry felt his emotions calm, and he looked down to the glass of water.
"Pardon my language," said Nicolas, "But bloody hell, Harry!"
"What did I do?" asked Harry. "Was that good?"
"Well, two weeks ago, you were having trouble with a basic Summoning Charm. You just transfigured a horse into a glass of water with glance! That is unbelievable progress!"
Harry looked at Nicolas, and could tell he was hiding something. He felt friendly with him again, and didn't feel right about prying into his mind...
Wait, what happened to all that anger I
felt toward him a minute ago?
"What did you do to me?" Harry demanded.
Nicolas regarded him for a moment, and then looked down to the glass of water. It became a table, and Nicolas sat back down. He motioned for Harry to take his seat, which he did.
"I allowed your emotions free reign," said Nicolas simply.
"So you two can just manipulate people however you want?" asked Harry.
Nicolas furrowed his brow. "No. Well, I guess we could if we tried. Mainly, we just exude what comes naturally to us—love, friendship, peace, all of that. And we are capable of lowering people's control over their emotions. We typically use those two abilities together in order to help smooth over situations of needless conflict."
"Sometimes fights need to happen," said Harry reasonably.
"And sometimes they don't. You and Snape do not need to fight right now, for instance, which is why Perenelle helped to smooth your troubled feelings last week."
Harry nodded.
"I had noticed that when you were in a heightened emotional state, your powers seemed to increase dramatically. Or perhaps you just felt freer in using them. So I lowered your control over your emotions without enveloping you with, as we call them, the sweeter emotions. And suddenly, you were able to transfigure a horse into a glass of water."
Harry suspected he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, "Again, why didn't you tell me first?"
"It wouldn't have worked if I had told you."
"Of course."
"No really, you wouldn't have believed me if I told you you could do that. But now you have done it, so now you have proof. Now let's see if we can get you to do that kind of thing without your emotions running rampant."
Harry eyed Nicolas warily, and Nicolas grinned at him. Harry couldn't help it. He grinned back.
"Are you making me happy again?" he asked accusingly.
"I am having no more effect on you now than I normally have on people."
"Swear?"
"Swear."
They practiced more complex spells, and Harry found that he had more power than he had ever before suspected. Even spells that he normally would have found difficult using a wand, he was able to cast effectively, just because he believed he could do it.
After they were done for the night, Harry was exhausted. He snuck out to the lake anyway, just in case Malfoy was there.
He was not.
Thursday and Friday were a blur of academics, Quidditch game preparations, and personal hurt and frustration over a blonde haired boy who wouldn't look at Harry except to berate him.
Harry was trying to figure out how to talk to Malfoy, but short of attacking him and hoping they landed detention together, he just didn't see how that was possible. Harry was always surrounded by a protective throng of DA members (especially after Crabbe's attack), and Malfoy was always flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and often had Pansy draped around him like a second robe.
There was simply no way to get the boy alone.
During Divination, the Slytherins kept up a steady stream of whispered insults to Harry and Ron. Harry had an idea. He waited for Malfoy to verbally attack him, and then whispered back furiously, "Quit haunting me, Malfoy!"
Malfoy showed no signs of registering Harry's use of the word. He just burst out laughing with the rest of the Slytherins. Harry stared at him hard, willing himself not to use Legilimency to figure out what he was thinking. It just didn't seem fair. He kept thinking about how Sirius said that not using Legilimency at his whim meant that he had character.
He stared into Malfoy's eyes, which were not lovely, but narrowed with his derisive laughter. Harry thought about how kind his eyes could be when they were alone, when Malfoy was smiling at him, telling him secrets and asking him about himself. He made up his mind.
Harry blinked once, and then opened...
He cracked a grin, and noticed that Malfoy's snide smirk faltered for a hair of a second as he watched Harry smiling at him. He had been thinking about how he wanted to maul Harry, who looked so good with his new haircut. Then, when Harry grinned, a wave of very explicit thoughts raced through his head.
Harry smiled, and leaned back against the tree behind him. As a cover for his sudden smile, he turned to Ron and whispered, "Imagine Hermione having private Divination lessons with Trelawney."
Ron snorted at the accompanying mental image, and he whispered back, "Mark my words, Hermione is going to eat that woman alive before all is said and done."
Harry put his hands behind his head, glanced over to Malfoy, and said with a smile, "Ron, I don't doubt it for a minute."
XIXIX
When Harry arrived to breakfast the next morning before the Hufflepuff game, the rest of his team was already assembled at a table in the Great Hall. He slid into a seat between Ginny and Christopher, and began to load his plate.
He was tired, and cursed himself for going out to the lake the night before after Quidditch practice. He had specifically ordered his team to bed to get enough sleep, but then he snuck out to the lake to wait in vain for Malfoy to appear.
"You're eating?" asked Ginny incredulously.
Harry looked down at his plate. While lost in his thoughts, he had already eaten half his breakfast.
"Yeah, why?"
"You never eat before a game."
Harry shrugged. "I guess my nerves are getting better, huh?"
Just then, a large group of loud Slytherins, with Malfoy in their midst, walked in, carrying a number of signs portraying a badger devouring a fluffy lion cub. One sign said, "Potter and the Pussycats". Another said, "Gryffindors are Pussies."
The Slytherins were cheering for the Hufflepuff team, and yelling out, "Potter is a pussy! Weasleys are pussies! Billings is a pussy!" and so on. The Hufflepuffs, rather than rallying behind the anti-Gryffindor spirit, blushed and hid their faces.
Ernie MacMillan jumped up immediately and strode over to the Gryffindor table where the Quidditch team was sitting, and stated loudly, "The Hufflepuffs had nothing to do with that!"
Harry waved him off. "Off course you don't, Ernie. It's okay."
Ginny held up a basket of pastries and asked kindly, "Muffin?"
"Um, okay," said Ernie uncertainly. He took a muffin, and returned to his seat. The Hufflepuffs began leaving the Great Hall in embarrassment when one of the fourth year Slytherins yelled out, "Badgers eat pussy!"
Professor McGonagall swept down from the head table and gave him a detention for lewd language at the breakfast table. The Slytherin tried to point to the picture of the badger eating the lion cub, but she took ten points from Slytherin for talking back. Then she ordered the rest of the Slytherins to take their disgusting signs out of the Great Hall.
The Slytherins left, but took a detour so that they walked past the Gryffindor Quidditch team, whispering disgusting insults involving the word 'pussy'. When Crabbe passed by Harry and Ginny, six Gryffindors had to jump up to hold back Ron and Ginny to keep them from pummeling the overgrown oaf.
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors focused on calming down their team members. He looked up to see Professors McGonagall and Snape step into a small room in the back of the Great Hall. As soon as the door closed, the Hall went quiet as McGonagall's voice carried through the door, screaming at Snape for not maintaining better control of his House.
The Gryffindors all started to chuckle, and they headed outside for the game.
The Slytherins' tactics to unsettle the Gryffindor Quidditch team backfired. The Hufflepuffs were far more outdone. The Hufflepuff team all personally apologized to the Gryffindor team before the game started. The Gryffindors said not to worry about what they Slytherins were doing, but the Hufflepuffs were embarrassed, and it really hurt their game.
Harry really hoped he would find the snitch early on. The Gryffindors were creaming the Hufflepuffs, who weren't really putting up much of a fight. They faltered every time they heard a yell referring to their opposition as 'pussies'. The Slytherins never seemed to catch on to what they were doing, because the worse Hufflepuff did, the more they yelled.
Harry caught the snitch fifteen minutes into the game. The final score was 260 to 30.
He didn't even feel like celebrating.
XIXIX
Harry spent most of the day in the library doing homework with Hermione and Neville. When he trudged down the steps to the dungeons that night for his Legilimency lesson, he was mentally exhausted.
He walked through Snape's open classroom door, and into his office. He stood before him and thought, 'Why'd you let them do it?'
Snape caught the thought, and what it was referring to, and he sighed. 'Sometimes you let your strategy get the better of you. It's a good lesson for them to learn that sometimes you should change course mid-way through. They stuck to their strategy today, and it didn't work. Hufflepuff lost. It was a mistake they will hopefully never make again.'
Harry was sullen. 'It wasn't fair how we won the game.'
'Your victory was a result of a Slytherin mistake' thought Snape wryly. 'You should be happy.'
'Well, when you put it that way, I can almost forget that we won because the Slytherins bullied the Hufflepuffs into submission. Why, I feel better already.'
'Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Mr. Potter.'
Harry rolled his eyes.
'You've got too much heart, Harry. Just take your victories and be happy.'
Snape stood up and walked out the door. Harry followed him through the halls and to the stone serpent.
Snape came to an abrupt stop in front of his door, and glared at the stone serpent loathingly.
Harry wondered for a second why they had stopped, but then he remembered his password prank. Snape must really not want to say whatever it was in front of Harry. For the first time all day, Harry felt a little perk of glee as he waited in anticipation.
"I would like to change my password," Snape said authoritatively.
"I'm sorry," hissed the serpent. "That option is not available at the moment."
Snape cursed under his breath. Harry stifled his laughter.
"That is not the correct password," hissed the serpent.
"I am aware of that," said Snape, his voice dripping with poison. "I am also aware that it is my prerogative to change the password to my quarters whenever I see fit. I would like to do so now."
"I'm sorry. That option is not avail—"
"Oh, for the love of—!" barked Snape, frustrated. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the serpent.
'Man, if looks could kill,' thought Harry to himself.
Finally, Snape opened his lips just barely, and through clenched teeth, he growled, "I love that dragon fresh feeling."
Harry clasped his hands over his mouth. The serpent slithered out of the way and Snape's door swung open. They entered and Snape closed the door quickly. Harry flung himself on the floor laughing. Snape towered over him, watching two disembodied feet kick around on his floor.
He cast a silencing charm and yelled, "Oh, get up!"
Harry stood up and stumbled over to the sitting area, still laughing. He pulled off his invisibility cloak and sat down, wiping tears from his eyes. "Thanks, Professor. I really needed that," he said.
"I'm glad my misfortune amuses you, Mr. Potter," said Snape. He waved his wand and a tea set appeared.
"Allow me, sir," said Harry, leaning forward to pour their tea. "What are we doing tonight?"
Snape glared at Harry as he sat down. "We're going to try to teach you some subtlety."
Harry looked at Snape apprehensively. "Is this going to hurt?"
Snape smirked viciously. "After that little display, most definitely."
The only way for Harry to understand the technique of treading lightly in someone's mind, was for Snape to show him. He trampled through Harry's thoughts, so that Harry felt everything. Then he tiptoed, explaining to him what he was doing differently.
Harry and Snape slid through each other's thoughts and emotions, careful for the time being not to look at anything too personal. Harry found that he did have enough control over this new power to be able to navigate to a certain extent.
Snape was not as powerful as Harry, but he had far more skill and control. In fact, Harry was dumbfounded as he slid through Snape's mind to begin to understand just how much skill and control the wizard had. A lesser wizard would have gone mad after experiencing even a hundredth of the things Snape had been through. Harry never delved deeply into these memories. He would just glance over them, get the gist, and move on.
Harry closely guarded any thought or feeling he had regarding Draco Malfoy, and the password prank, but he allowed Snape access to all other memories as a show of good faith. Despite his earlier threat, Snape never abused this access. He just glided through, explaining to Harry the different techniques he was using to get to different places.
Harry made incredible progress during this lesson. Snape informed him that if he kept up at this rate, by summer he would be able to put on an invisibility cloak, walk up and stand in front of the Dark Lord, and read his most intimate thoughts without him ever knowing he was there.
"I doubt that," said Harry.
"I don't," said Snape.
Snape walked him to the door. Harry had his invisibility cloak slung over his arm as he looked at the man whose mind he had been linked to all evening. He was almost as tall as the Potions Master now. Harry wondered when that happened. Snape used to be so tall and intimidating, but now...
He stuck out his hand. "Well, Harry, it's been a pleasure."
Harry took his hand and shook it. "As always, Severus."
Harry felt a strong emotion well up in him—something akin to grief. He realized it had Snape's 'feel' to it. It was Snape's emotion.
Without thinking, Harry stepped forward and pulled Snape into a hug. Snape froze for a second, but then hugged Harry back firmly.
They pulled back after a moment, and Harry flung his invisibility cloak on.
"I'll see you in class, Professor."
"Good night, Mr. Potter."
XIXIX
Harry had an idea as he walked away from the dungeons. He checked his watch, and once he was certain it was not too late to try this, he headed to the Owlery. He had a quill and a scratch bit of parchment in his robe pocket.
He wrote a quick note.
Meet me at midnight in the locker room on the far side of the Quidditch field.
Come alone.
-Phantom
Hedwig had flown down and perched on Harry's shoulder. Harry tied the bit of parchment to her, and directed her to find Malfoy in the dungeons.
Hedwig looked at Harry reproachfully. Harry said, "I know, I know. But will you please do it?"
Hedwig hooted softly and nipped Harry's ear. Then she took off.
Harry went for a walk around the lake. The nights were definitely warming up, but it was still quite cool outside. Harry shuddered in a breeze. He checked his watch, and headed to the locker room.
He opened the locker at the end of the row by the back wall, and stood silently next to it, still cloaked. He hoped that Malfoy would come. He hoped that he caught the Phantom reference, and wanted to come. He really hoped he didn't bring backup. Harry was going to stay cloaked until Malfoy came, and Harry was sure that they were alone.
Harry looked at his watch. It was after midnight.
How was Hedwig going to get into the dungeons underneath the lake? Was that even possible? Surely Slytherins had some way of receiving things by evening post. Didn't they?
Harry heard footsteps. One person. One set of footsteps, walking quickly down the first row. Harry peered around. It was Malfoy. As soon as Malfoy stepped back out of sight, Harry slid off his cloak and stuffed it in the open locker.
He walked quietly forward, wanting to sneak up on him. But Malfoy heard him and turned around. He was fuming.
"What the fuck are you playing at, Potter? Everyone at this school knows your ruddy owl! Do you want my father to kill me!"
Harry ran forward and jumped him. Malfoy tried to fight him off at first, thinking he was being attacked, but Harry was persistent. He wrapped his arms fiercely around the struggling Slytherin, found his lips, and pressed himself into him.
Malfoy responded. He grabbed Harry's arm roughly, reached his other hand up and clenched his short hair. He pulled Harry's head back, and bit into his neck. Harry gasped. He slid his hands down Malfoy's back, grabbed his behind firmly, and lifted him off the ground. Malfoy wrapped his legs around Harry's middle. Harry turned and pushed him up against a locker.
The room echoed with the bang.
Harry thrust into him. Malfoy clawed at his back. Harry lowered him and stepped back and they all but tore each other's robes off before pressing themselves back into each other.
They slowly dropped to the floor, tearing off shirts and shoes and pants as they went. They wrestled and bit, clawed and pulled. They struggled with desperate, gasping kisses as they fought against each other on the floor for dominance.
Malfoy moaned as Harry pushed into him. Their knees ached against the cold, hard floor, but they couldn't stop. They wouldn't stop. The pain and the consequences were a million miles away.
Harry groaned as he came, collapsing on the Slytherin. Malfoy turned over, pulled him up, and walked Harry into the third shower stall. He rotated the faucet head, and tantalizingly warm water splashed down.
Harry was on his knees again, and Malfoy was moaning. He was running his fingers through Harry's hair, and slamming his hand against the wall. He shuddered, gasping. His eyes were closed and he felt soft lips against his. He slumped against the wall, wrapping his arms around Harry, and taking him into a passionate, salty kiss while the water rinsed their sweat away.
Harry pulled back and looked at the gorgeous blonde whose hair was dripping into his eyes. Malfoy reached up and rubbed Harry's short hair fondly.
"Next time," he said softly, "Use another owl, okay?"
XIXIX
XIX
X
A/N: This is my longest chapter yet. I hope you all liked it. Please review and let me know what you think.
And I want to direct everyone to The Showers, by Wintermoon2. It's, um, steamy. And apparently a little too steamy for the folks at who took it down a couple of days ago. But you can still read it at and at inkstained fingers. If you liked my shower scene, then whoa boy! You really need to go read The Showers. It's sexy and funny, and involves an older Harry Potter.
What about my shower scene? Too steamy? I didn't use any graphic words, but is it too graphic regardless?
Also, I want to direct everyone to Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor by DK Stories, and to the sequel, whose name I forget at the moment, but so far, it's damn good too. In fact, it keeps getting better and better. I was thinking about putting some muggle interference into my story, but there is no way I can do it as well as DK Stories.
Wintermoon2- Sorry I made you late last time. I hope you don't have any pressing engagements right now, because you're almost certainly late for them if you did.
Usually Immaculate Aristocrat- Yup, I think Draco likes the hair. And a lot of the training is going to fall on Snape. At this point, I think he's closer to Harry than Ginny in terms of trust. It's just the nature of what they're doing together.
Spidermonkey-demon- You know, JKR wrote me today and offered me a million pounds in royalties for Nicolas. I said, A million pounds of what! Then she hung up on me.
Yuki Kruai- Thank you! Here it is!
Vasquaz- Thank you!
Snake-Boi- After I read HPSS, I pretty much assumed Nicolas and Perenelle would be old and very close to death without the potion. But then I got to thinking, what if the potion kept/made them young? Wouldn't they still have a whole lifetime ahead of them? I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reviewing!
Rise of Chaos- Thank you, thank you, and thank you! And yes, I do feel immensely special that I'm on your favorites list. I'm dancing with joy! And you're responsible!
Silent-sounds- Hey, there there. Here's another chapter. I'm glad you like it so far, but there's no reason to cry. Thanks for reading/reviewing!
Kurai-princess- Thank you, and here it is!
Draconisdagger2000- I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad you like the Harry- Snape friendship. I've wanted to explore that for awhile. Thanks for reading/reviewing!
Pamela- Why, thank you! Again! And, how did you like that password action? More to come, most probably. And, um, I think the whole point of being a whore is NOT being in relationships. But third grade is a little young to have started all that. Have you been saving up your, um, gratuity, or just spending it wildly on whatever you want?
Simply Slytherin- Wow, that's a huge compliment with the Cornish Pixies and all. I hear they're even tastier than Cornish hens, and passing up that feast must have been quite a sacrifice. Thanks for reading/reviewing!
Kittyfd13- Thank you for reading/reviewing! I'm glad you like the pace and all. I've been worried that I wasn't pushing it enough. Harry's had a very busy couple of weeks here. But he's not complaining, and neither are you, so I'm happy. Hope you continue to enjoy.
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peace out, y'all
kati