Chapter 10: End of Innocent
"Why are people rioting?" Harry asked angrily. "Sirius is innocent."
"You and I know that, Potter, but the rest of the Wizarding world has been told for the past fifteen years that Black betrayed your parents, murdered Pettigrew, along with twelve muggles, and became the first wizard to ever escape Azkaban. That information has been pound into them for the past fifteen years. In their eyes, Black is wild and dangerous. That's not easy to overcome." Moody explained.
"But we just need Shacklebolt to say he's innocent. After all, he's in charge of the investigation against Sirius. He could say they found new evidence that clears his name. The public will believe him." Harry insisted.
"People don't care what the truth is about Black anymore, Potter. They want to have someone to blame this all on. Black's more convenient than most." Moody replied.
"And even if we could convince them," Tonks broke in, "Kingsley's got to keep a low profile. This story's already bringing enough attention his way as it is, without giving credibility to it. If he started spouting off about Sirius, it would raise suspicions. The last thing we need right now is a spotlight on the Aurors office. I've just about got another two wizards interested in joining the Order."
Harry sat down at the kitchen table, effectively pouting. He couldn't believe Tonks didn't want to clear Sirius' name. Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of him at the table. Moody stumped back around to the front door.
"Potter, the Ministry hasn't even declared Black dead yet. No one outside of the Order and the Death Eaters know he was there. It's easier if it's kept that way." He looked over at Mrs. Weasley. "I think you've got everything under control here, Molly. Tonks will be expected back at the Ministry, and I'm sure Dumbledore will be wanting an update. You three," he said, turning both his eyes on them, "listen to Molly. I know you don't agree with me, Potter, but keep your anger in check. C'mon, Tonks."
Tonks gave a cheery wave to them and followed Moody out the back door. Once outside, two loud cracks signaled they had disapparated.
"Ginny, dear" Mrs. Weasley called, "only grab enough for the next few days. You can restock before you head off to Hogwarts." Ginny had disappeared upstairs the moment they had arrived home and they could hear her opening and shutting numerous drawers.
A minute later, Ginny reappeared, clutching her trunk. It looked considerably lighter this time, and she had no problem holding on to it herself.
"Sorry you didn't have time to snog Dean goodbye," Ron scowled.
Harry was surprised at how angry all of Ginny's brothers seemed to be about Ginny dating Dean. He was about to say something, but noticed Hermione shaking her head at him.
Ginny merely narrowed her eyes and glared at Ron. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley came over and handed them all wicker baskets. "Outside with you." She commanded. "Collect vegetables and such from the garden. We'll need lots for headquarters."
Ron apparently wasn't talking to Ginny any more, Harry noticed. Ginny merely squared her shoulders and stalked off to the far corner of the garden to gather tomatoes. Hermione pushed Ron off to the berry patch and grabbed Harry's arm, leading him over the row of peppers.
Reaching down to pull off a green pepper, Harry looked at Hermione. "Why is Ron so angry about Ginny and Dean?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "He still thinks you, and only you, should date Ginny." She explained. "What I don't understand is why the twins were being so rude about Dean. They've never cared about that before."
Harry stopped, dumbstruck, "Ron still thinks I should go with Ginny?"
Hermione looked up at him, exasperated, "Yes, Harry. And apparently that means in the meantime, until the two of you hook up, no one is good enough." She bent down again to grab at a pepper.
Harry was quiet. He liked Ginny, but because she was Ron's little sister. It had never occurred to him to think of her as other than that. And she didn't seem too keen on dating him at the moment; Hermione had said last year Ginny had gotten over her infatuation with him. He shook his head. He had enough to think about without dragging girls in. Just look at what a disaster everything with Cho had been. Besides, this evening he had another Occlumency lesson with Snape; he had far more pressing matters on hand.
They continued picking peppers, then digging carrots, and met up with Ginny in the cabbage patch. By this time the youngest Weasley appeared to have calmed down, and started chatting happily with Hermione about her time spent at the twins' shop and Diagon Alley.
A few minutes later, Ron came over and mumbled an apology with Ginny, who, after a full minute's silent deliberation hugged him in return, saying she knew she was going to have to get used to it, being the baby sister of six brothers. The four of them ambled their way back into the house.
Mrs. Weasley had, in the meantime, amassed an odd assortment of blankets, books, parcels for school, and foodstuffs. Waving her wand, she shrunk everything down and placed it in a canvas shopping bag.
Walking over to the fireplace, she pulled the flowerpot off the mantle and offered it to Harry. "You first, dear. Remus should be waiting for us by now."
Harry grabbed a handful and said clearly "Headquarters!" He felt the familiar whoosh of warm air and the feeling of being pulled down a very large drain. Soon enough who flew out of the fireplace in the library at 12 Grimmauld Place.
A figure bolted from the armchair. Brushing himself off, Harry opened his mouth to welcome Remus, but shut it quickly when he instead saw Snape. Standing in front of the fireplace, puzzled, he didn't have time to move before Ron came flying out and bowled him over.
Before they could extricate themselves, Ginny and Hermione added themselves to the pile of sooty bodies lying in a heap in front of the fireplace. Below them, they heard Mrs. Weasley come in the front door, having apparated, rather than travel by floo.
Coughing and wheezing, the four students stood up and brushed themselves off. "Bloody hell," Ron intoned. "Why didn't you move out of the way, Harry? Look at this mess."
"It is a shame the Headmaster does not allow for points to be taken off during holidays," came Snape's drawling voice from the corner. "Tsk. Tsk. Such language, Mr. Weasley. And in front of your paramour, no less."
Ron went bright pink. No one besides Harry had noticed Snape's presence until he spoke. Before anyone could say anything further, though, Mrs. Weasley came bustling in.
"Ah, Professor Snape, good to see you. I was expecting Remus to be here. Is he not back yet?" Snape shook his head. "Oh well. Come, children. Let's get your school parcels divided out and then Ginny, Hermione, if you two wouldn't mind giving me a hand with supper, we'll let the boy put all the extra blankets away."
Harry looked at Snape, but he had stepped back when Mrs. Weasley entered the room, keeping his face half hidden in the shadow from the curtain. The rest of them shuffled out the door. When Harry had his hand on the doorknob, Snape called to him.
"Mr. Potter. This evening at eight o'clock, you should present yourself back here, preferably cleaned up, for lessons. Do not be late." He said.
"Yes, sir." Harry replied curtly, before exiting.
Joining Ron in the hallway, where Mrs. Weasley had left the blankets and their parcels of school supplies, Harry kept thinking about the disturbance outside the Daily Prophet. Who had brought the motion to the Wizengamot, he wondered.
It must be someone from the Order. Maybe Dumbledore, Harry thought. But that wouldn't make much sense, not if Dumbledore wanted the Order to keep a low profile. Maybe Remus. No, he wouldn't go against Dumbledore's wishes. Harry kept thinking about it as he and Ron carried things up to their rooms. He left Ron to organize their school parcels and headed back down for a second load. He was so deep in thought he hadn't heard the door open and close, and didn't notice the person on the steps until he'd until he'd run headfirst into them.
"Harry!" beamed Mr. Weasley, wiping a speck of dirt from his spectacles. "How was Diagon Alley? Isn't Fred and George's shop nice! Molly and I spent a few hours there last week when we delivered Ginny. I suppose she's back then? I'll have to go say hello." He rambled. Noticing Harry wasn't responding, he asked, concerned, "Is everything all right there, Harry?"
Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Yes, sir. I was just wondering who brought the motion to the Wizengamot to clear Sirius' name."
Mr. Weasley started. "How do you know about that, Harry?"
"Mrs. Weasley and Professor Moody were anxious to get us out of Diagon Alley because of a riot outside the Daily Prophet. People were protesting the motion." Harry explained.
Mr. Weasley looked at Harry thoughtfully before answering. "To be honest, Harry, we don't know who brought it. I know a few people who didn't. I will say I'm surprised at how vehemently people are reacting to this. It's just a motion. There will still have to be a trial, and the Wizengamot hasn't even decided to hear the motion yet."
Harry cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
Mr. Weasley motioned for Harry to join him as he sat down on one of the steps. Harry did, and Mr. Weasley ran a hand through his hair and withdrew a half-pulled apart plug from one of his pockets, running it through his hands as he spoke.
"Anyone can introduce any motion for any thing that they want to the Wizengamot, Harry. Once a week, all the motions introduced are presentedt. At that point, a vote is taken on which motions the Wizengamot deem worthy of further inquiry. Of the motions that get approval from that point, introductory inquiries are made. If the topic is found to be worth pursuing, then the motion gets moved to a hearing or trial. On any given week there are upwards of thirty motions, most of which never get past the initial introduction." Mr. Weasley explained.
Harry struggled to make sense of it. "So, this could be someone not in the Order at all?" he finally said.
"It could very well be someone from Prattle Press or Quibbler." Mr. Weasley responded. "Though this isn't quite the style of the Quibbler. They don't willingly make up news, they just report on things that can't be proven. This is much more the sensationalistic style of the Prattle Press."
Harry hadn't heard of the Prattle Press, and told Mr. Weasley so. He nodded his head. "I'm not surprised. Most wizards don't put any stock into anything they print and they don't have a very large circulation, mostly here in London only. They're known for making up stories about everything. Well," he quickly amended "it's not as if the Daily Prophet and Quibbler don't do that as well, but imagine, Harry, and entire broadsheet full of stories by Rita Skeeter. Then multiply that by ten. The Prattle Press has ruined many lives by taking gossip and putting it front page." He ended bitterly.
Harry didn't think he'd want to read an entire paper of Rita Skeeter articles. He shook his head. "But you said you don't know who brought the motion."
"No. You are not required to sign a name to a motion. I could go in tomorrow and bring a motion saying Albus Dumbledore routinely feeds boiled socks to first year students at Hogwarts if I wanted to and not sign my name. It would get laughed at and thrown out. But, obviously, the idea of Sirius Black being innocent is a bigger issue. It's something people don't want to think about." Mr. Weasley said.
"So the Order isn't going to do anything to help the motion?" Harry said irritably.
Mr. Weasley held up his hands. "Harry, there's nothing we can do. Dumbledore wants us not to draw attention to ourselves, especially after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. Now, why don't I give you a hand with these blankets? Molly's convinced we're all going to freeze to death in our sleep. It's a wonder there are any blankets left at the Burrow."
Together they walked up the stairs. Harry kept his thoughts to himself. Dinner was a loud affair, Ginny being pelted with questions about how the twins were doing by Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. She refused to say anything bad about the shop, though, and eventually Mrs. Weasley gave up. Ron and Hermione were again talking to each other, which suited Harry fine, as he was deep in thought. Too soon it was approaching eight.
"Harry, dear, you best go up and meet Professor Snape." Mrs. Weasley told him, lifting his plate from his hands. Harry's shoulders sank, but he trooped towards the stairs leading to the rest of the house.
"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, turning at the door.
"Yes, dear?" she responded.
"Did Remus ever show up this afternoon?" he wondered.
"No, dear. I think I must have been mistaken in my dates. He's not supposed to be back until tomorrow. No hurry along." She chided him.
Harry trudged upstairs, into the library. Snape wasn't there yet. He sat down on the sofa and crossed his legs underneath him. He hadn't had a chance to clear his mind since he'd had the dream last night. After the compliment he'd received last time from Snape, he didn't want to fail miserably this time.
Closing his eyes, he arranged his thoughts into a neat row, as Hermione had suggested. Next, he pictured himself placing each of those thoughts into his school trunk. Soon enough, he felt his muscles relax and his mind calm down. He barely registered the click on the library door, or the light swish of robes that followed.
He vaguely heard the muttered "Legimens!" Immediately though, as soon as he saw the room begin to swim out of focus in front of him, he focused on pushing the intruder out. He came back to himself when he heard a loud thump from behind him.
Opening his eyes and turning his head, he saw Professor Snape lying in a heap in the far corner of the room. Horrified, Harry leapt up from the couch. "Professor Snape!" he cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw you, I was just trying..."
A soul-piercing glare from the crumpled heap of wizard in the corner silenced him. Straightening himself out, Snape rose. Harry noticed he looked far paler than normal, and his eyes were sunken deeper than normal, giving his already pronounced nose even more of a hawk-like look.
As he stood, Snape glanced around the room, as though looking for someone else. Satisfied they were alone, Snape moved his shoulders in a gesture that signified to Harry he was in pain.
Harry was puzzled. Snape hadn't said anything yet, and he was moving oddly. "Professor." He began. When Snape didn't immediately start yelling, he continued, "Are you okay? You look a little out of sorts."
Snape snorted and replied coolly, "I am fine, Potter. Did you hear me enter?"
Harry squinted his eyes for a moment. "Kind of. I remember hearing the door open, but I wasn't really paying attention to it." He said.
Snape nodded, watching him closely. "You effectively forced me out of your mind. Quite forcibly, I might add, but it was effective nonetheless. Excellent, Potter." He said softly.
Harry strained to catch the last part, and held his breath, not believing what he had heard. An outright compliment from Snape? Harry snorted, but didn't say anything. He watched Snape, whose attention had turned from Harry as he clutched his right side in pain.
Harry took a step closer to his professor. Snape said dangerously, "Do not take another step, Potter. If you wish to be of assistance, kindly seek out Molly Weasley and ask her to fetch the Headmaster."
Harry moved towards the door, shaken by his professor's action. Keeping his eye on Snape, he strained to hear the next sentence out of the man's mouth.
"And tell Dumbledore unless he wishes to hire a new potions master for the term, I suggest he hurries." With this, Snape slumped to the floor, unconscious.
===== Author's Notes:
Tanydwr: I have to admit I love pulling in ideas from real history, and the Catholic church has been great fodder for both this story, and as a source of inspiration for my other story. So much to pull from. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. My muse is on a roll!
Milady: You know I'll always appreciate review from you, though you're making me feel as though now I should go and do the same for you, rather than just put them in the beta chapters when I'm done. And no worries, I'll have chapter one of the fic done by tomorrow evening. 19 pages is simply more than I'm used to, and, as you can see, I've had inspiration for my own stories lately.
Lucidity: Glad you liked the shop! I still don't feel I adequately pulled it off...in my mind, it's kind of like the beginning of Moulin Rouge...insane and all over the place!
Snowbored: Wow. I was floored by your review. I greatly appreciate the words. I hold degrees in linguistics and journalism. Journalism especially teaches the value of the fewest amounts of words for the most impact. Filler words are, generally speaking, one of my pet peeves in writing. Thanks for noticing. I hope the following chapters continue to live up to such praise.
"Why are people rioting?" Harry asked angrily. "Sirius is innocent."
"You and I know that, Potter, but the rest of the Wizarding world has been told for the past fifteen years that Black betrayed your parents, murdered Pettigrew, along with twelve muggles, and became the first wizard to ever escape Azkaban. That information has been pound into them for the past fifteen years. In their eyes, Black is wild and dangerous. That's not easy to overcome." Moody explained.
"But we just need Shacklebolt to say he's innocent. After all, he's in charge of the investigation against Sirius. He could say they found new evidence that clears his name. The public will believe him." Harry insisted.
"People don't care what the truth is about Black anymore, Potter. They want to have someone to blame this all on. Black's more convenient than most." Moody replied.
"And even if we could convince them," Tonks broke in, "Kingsley's got to keep a low profile. This story's already bringing enough attention his way as it is, without giving credibility to it. If he started spouting off about Sirius, it would raise suspicions. The last thing we need right now is a spotlight on the Aurors office. I've just about got another two wizards interested in joining the Order."
Harry sat down at the kitchen table, effectively pouting. He couldn't believe Tonks didn't want to clear Sirius' name. Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of him at the table. Moody stumped back around to the front door.
"Potter, the Ministry hasn't even declared Black dead yet. No one outside of the Order and the Death Eaters know he was there. It's easier if it's kept that way." He looked over at Mrs. Weasley. "I think you've got everything under control here, Molly. Tonks will be expected back at the Ministry, and I'm sure Dumbledore will be wanting an update. You three," he said, turning both his eyes on them, "listen to Molly. I know you don't agree with me, Potter, but keep your anger in check. C'mon, Tonks."
Tonks gave a cheery wave to them and followed Moody out the back door. Once outside, two loud cracks signaled they had disapparated.
"Ginny, dear" Mrs. Weasley called, "only grab enough for the next few days. You can restock before you head off to Hogwarts." Ginny had disappeared upstairs the moment they had arrived home and they could hear her opening and shutting numerous drawers.
A minute later, Ginny reappeared, clutching her trunk. It looked considerably lighter this time, and she had no problem holding on to it herself.
"Sorry you didn't have time to snog Dean goodbye," Ron scowled.
Harry was surprised at how angry all of Ginny's brothers seemed to be about Ginny dating Dean. He was about to say something, but noticed Hermione shaking her head at him.
Ginny merely narrowed her eyes and glared at Ron. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley came over and handed them all wicker baskets. "Outside with you." She commanded. "Collect vegetables and such from the garden. We'll need lots for headquarters."
Ron apparently wasn't talking to Ginny any more, Harry noticed. Ginny merely squared her shoulders and stalked off to the far corner of the garden to gather tomatoes. Hermione pushed Ron off to the berry patch and grabbed Harry's arm, leading him over the row of peppers.
Reaching down to pull off a green pepper, Harry looked at Hermione. "Why is Ron so angry about Ginny and Dean?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "He still thinks you, and only you, should date Ginny." She explained. "What I don't understand is why the twins were being so rude about Dean. They've never cared about that before."
Harry stopped, dumbstruck, "Ron still thinks I should go with Ginny?"
Hermione looked up at him, exasperated, "Yes, Harry. And apparently that means in the meantime, until the two of you hook up, no one is good enough." She bent down again to grab at a pepper.
Harry was quiet. He liked Ginny, but because she was Ron's little sister. It had never occurred to him to think of her as other than that. And she didn't seem too keen on dating him at the moment; Hermione had said last year Ginny had gotten over her infatuation with him. He shook his head. He had enough to think about without dragging girls in. Just look at what a disaster everything with Cho had been. Besides, this evening he had another Occlumency lesson with Snape; he had far more pressing matters on hand.
They continued picking peppers, then digging carrots, and met up with Ginny in the cabbage patch. By this time the youngest Weasley appeared to have calmed down, and started chatting happily with Hermione about her time spent at the twins' shop and Diagon Alley.
A few minutes later, Ron came over and mumbled an apology with Ginny, who, after a full minute's silent deliberation hugged him in return, saying she knew she was going to have to get used to it, being the baby sister of six brothers. The four of them ambled their way back into the house.
Mrs. Weasley had, in the meantime, amassed an odd assortment of blankets, books, parcels for school, and foodstuffs. Waving her wand, she shrunk everything down and placed it in a canvas shopping bag.
Walking over to the fireplace, she pulled the flowerpot off the mantle and offered it to Harry. "You first, dear. Remus should be waiting for us by now."
Harry grabbed a handful and said clearly "Headquarters!" He felt the familiar whoosh of warm air and the feeling of being pulled down a very large drain. Soon enough who flew out of the fireplace in the library at 12 Grimmauld Place.
A figure bolted from the armchair. Brushing himself off, Harry opened his mouth to welcome Remus, but shut it quickly when he instead saw Snape. Standing in front of the fireplace, puzzled, he didn't have time to move before Ron came flying out and bowled him over.
Before they could extricate themselves, Ginny and Hermione added themselves to the pile of sooty bodies lying in a heap in front of the fireplace. Below them, they heard Mrs. Weasley come in the front door, having apparated, rather than travel by floo.
Coughing and wheezing, the four students stood up and brushed themselves off. "Bloody hell," Ron intoned. "Why didn't you move out of the way, Harry? Look at this mess."
"It is a shame the Headmaster does not allow for points to be taken off during holidays," came Snape's drawling voice from the corner. "Tsk. Tsk. Such language, Mr. Weasley. And in front of your paramour, no less."
Ron went bright pink. No one besides Harry had noticed Snape's presence until he spoke. Before anyone could say anything further, though, Mrs. Weasley came bustling in.
"Ah, Professor Snape, good to see you. I was expecting Remus to be here. Is he not back yet?" Snape shook his head. "Oh well. Come, children. Let's get your school parcels divided out and then Ginny, Hermione, if you two wouldn't mind giving me a hand with supper, we'll let the boy put all the extra blankets away."
Harry looked at Snape, but he had stepped back when Mrs. Weasley entered the room, keeping his face half hidden in the shadow from the curtain. The rest of them shuffled out the door. When Harry had his hand on the doorknob, Snape called to him.
"Mr. Potter. This evening at eight o'clock, you should present yourself back here, preferably cleaned up, for lessons. Do not be late." He said.
"Yes, sir." Harry replied curtly, before exiting.
Joining Ron in the hallway, where Mrs. Weasley had left the blankets and their parcels of school supplies, Harry kept thinking about the disturbance outside the Daily Prophet. Who had brought the motion to the Wizengamot, he wondered.
It must be someone from the Order. Maybe Dumbledore, Harry thought. But that wouldn't make much sense, not if Dumbledore wanted the Order to keep a low profile. Maybe Remus. No, he wouldn't go against Dumbledore's wishes. Harry kept thinking about it as he and Ron carried things up to their rooms. He left Ron to organize their school parcels and headed back down for a second load. He was so deep in thought he hadn't heard the door open and close, and didn't notice the person on the steps until he'd until he'd run headfirst into them.
"Harry!" beamed Mr. Weasley, wiping a speck of dirt from his spectacles. "How was Diagon Alley? Isn't Fred and George's shop nice! Molly and I spent a few hours there last week when we delivered Ginny. I suppose she's back then? I'll have to go say hello." He rambled. Noticing Harry wasn't responding, he asked, concerned, "Is everything all right there, Harry?"
Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Yes, sir. I was just wondering who brought the motion to the Wizengamot to clear Sirius' name."
Mr. Weasley started. "How do you know about that, Harry?"
"Mrs. Weasley and Professor Moody were anxious to get us out of Diagon Alley because of a riot outside the Daily Prophet. People were protesting the motion." Harry explained.
Mr. Weasley looked at Harry thoughtfully before answering. "To be honest, Harry, we don't know who brought it. I know a few people who didn't. I will say I'm surprised at how vehemently people are reacting to this. It's just a motion. There will still have to be a trial, and the Wizengamot hasn't even decided to hear the motion yet."
Harry cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
Mr. Weasley motioned for Harry to join him as he sat down on one of the steps. Harry did, and Mr. Weasley ran a hand through his hair and withdrew a half-pulled apart plug from one of his pockets, running it through his hands as he spoke.
"Anyone can introduce any motion for any thing that they want to the Wizengamot, Harry. Once a week, all the motions introduced are presentedt. At that point, a vote is taken on which motions the Wizengamot deem worthy of further inquiry. Of the motions that get approval from that point, introductory inquiries are made. If the topic is found to be worth pursuing, then the motion gets moved to a hearing or trial. On any given week there are upwards of thirty motions, most of which never get past the initial introduction." Mr. Weasley explained.
Harry struggled to make sense of it. "So, this could be someone not in the Order at all?" he finally said.
"It could very well be someone from Prattle Press or Quibbler." Mr. Weasley responded. "Though this isn't quite the style of the Quibbler. They don't willingly make up news, they just report on things that can't be proven. This is much more the sensationalistic style of the Prattle Press."
Harry hadn't heard of the Prattle Press, and told Mr. Weasley so. He nodded his head. "I'm not surprised. Most wizards don't put any stock into anything they print and they don't have a very large circulation, mostly here in London only. They're known for making up stories about everything. Well," he quickly amended "it's not as if the Daily Prophet and Quibbler don't do that as well, but imagine, Harry, and entire broadsheet full of stories by Rita Skeeter. Then multiply that by ten. The Prattle Press has ruined many lives by taking gossip and putting it front page." He ended bitterly.
Harry didn't think he'd want to read an entire paper of Rita Skeeter articles. He shook his head. "But you said you don't know who brought the motion."
"No. You are not required to sign a name to a motion. I could go in tomorrow and bring a motion saying Albus Dumbledore routinely feeds boiled socks to first year students at Hogwarts if I wanted to and not sign my name. It would get laughed at and thrown out. But, obviously, the idea of Sirius Black being innocent is a bigger issue. It's something people don't want to think about." Mr. Weasley said.
"So the Order isn't going to do anything to help the motion?" Harry said irritably.
Mr. Weasley held up his hands. "Harry, there's nothing we can do. Dumbledore wants us not to draw attention to ourselves, especially after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. Now, why don't I give you a hand with these blankets? Molly's convinced we're all going to freeze to death in our sleep. It's a wonder there are any blankets left at the Burrow."
Together they walked up the stairs. Harry kept his thoughts to himself. Dinner was a loud affair, Ginny being pelted with questions about how the twins were doing by Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. She refused to say anything bad about the shop, though, and eventually Mrs. Weasley gave up. Ron and Hermione were again talking to each other, which suited Harry fine, as he was deep in thought. Too soon it was approaching eight.
"Harry, dear, you best go up and meet Professor Snape." Mrs. Weasley told him, lifting his plate from his hands. Harry's shoulders sank, but he trooped towards the stairs leading to the rest of the house.
"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, turning at the door.
"Yes, dear?" she responded.
"Did Remus ever show up this afternoon?" he wondered.
"No, dear. I think I must have been mistaken in my dates. He's not supposed to be back until tomorrow. No hurry along." She chided him.
Harry trudged upstairs, into the library. Snape wasn't there yet. He sat down on the sofa and crossed his legs underneath him. He hadn't had a chance to clear his mind since he'd had the dream last night. After the compliment he'd received last time from Snape, he didn't want to fail miserably this time.
Closing his eyes, he arranged his thoughts into a neat row, as Hermione had suggested. Next, he pictured himself placing each of those thoughts into his school trunk. Soon enough, he felt his muscles relax and his mind calm down. He barely registered the click on the library door, or the light swish of robes that followed.
He vaguely heard the muttered "Legimens!" Immediately though, as soon as he saw the room begin to swim out of focus in front of him, he focused on pushing the intruder out. He came back to himself when he heard a loud thump from behind him.
Opening his eyes and turning his head, he saw Professor Snape lying in a heap in the far corner of the room. Horrified, Harry leapt up from the couch. "Professor Snape!" he cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw you, I was just trying..."
A soul-piercing glare from the crumpled heap of wizard in the corner silenced him. Straightening himself out, Snape rose. Harry noticed he looked far paler than normal, and his eyes were sunken deeper than normal, giving his already pronounced nose even more of a hawk-like look.
As he stood, Snape glanced around the room, as though looking for someone else. Satisfied they were alone, Snape moved his shoulders in a gesture that signified to Harry he was in pain.
Harry was puzzled. Snape hadn't said anything yet, and he was moving oddly. "Professor." He began. When Snape didn't immediately start yelling, he continued, "Are you okay? You look a little out of sorts."
Snape snorted and replied coolly, "I am fine, Potter. Did you hear me enter?"
Harry squinted his eyes for a moment. "Kind of. I remember hearing the door open, but I wasn't really paying attention to it." He said.
Snape nodded, watching him closely. "You effectively forced me out of your mind. Quite forcibly, I might add, but it was effective nonetheless. Excellent, Potter." He said softly.
Harry strained to catch the last part, and held his breath, not believing what he had heard. An outright compliment from Snape? Harry snorted, but didn't say anything. He watched Snape, whose attention had turned from Harry as he clutched his right side in pain.
Harry took a step closer to his professor. Snape said dangerously, "Do not take another step, Potter. If you wish to be of assistance, kindly seek out Molly Weasley and ask her to fetch the Headmaster."
Harry moved towards the door, shaken by his professor's action. Keeping his eye on Snape, he strained to hear the next sentence out of the man's mouth.
"And tell Dumbledore unless he wishes to hire a new potions master for the term, I suggest he hurries." With this, Snape slumped to the floor, unconscious.
===== Author's Notes:
Tanydwr: I have to admit I love pulling in ideas from real history, and the Catholic church has been great fodder for both this story, and as a source of inspiration for my other story. So much to pull from. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. My muse is on a roll!
Milady: You know I'll always appreciate review from you, though you're making me feel as though now I should go and do the same for you, rather than just put them in the beta chapters when I'm done. And no worries, I'll have chapter one of the fic done by tomorrow evening. 19 pages is simply more than I'm used to, and, as you can see, I've had inspiration for my own stories lately.
Lucidity: Glad you liked the shop! I still don't feel I adequately pulled it off...in my mind, it's kind of like the beginning of Moulin Rouge...insane and all over the place!
Snowbored: Wow. I was floored by your review. I greatly appreciate the words. I hold degrees in linguistics and journalism. Journalism especially teaches the value of the fewest amounts of words for the most impact. Filler words are, generally speaking, one of my pet peeves in writing. Thanks for noticing. I hope the following chapters continue to live up to such praise.