Recap: However Ron, as we well know it, has sweaty hands. Harry couldn't
hold on. He started to slip. In the split second when Harry let go two
hands shot out and grabbed his arms. Harry held on to them without question
and was pulled safely inside, where he collapsed onto the person who saved
him. Then he saw the face. It was Malfoy.
Chapter Eight
For a moment that seemed frozen in time Harry didn't move, didn't breath. He just stared at Malfoy as the adrenaline rush cooled and their heart rates, both of them, returned to normal. Their eyes were locked and Harry thought that Malfoy's eyes were probably the deepest, most alluring color he'd ever seen and he wondered why he'd never noticed them before. They were like small pools of water that the light was shining through. The two boys might have gone on staring like that, lost in thought, for quite a long while if the compartment door hadn't opened (it had closed behind them when Ron and Harry ran out).
At the sound of the door Harry and Malfoy realized their rather, uh, compromising position. They sprang apart and were dusting them selves off by the time the door was fully opened. Next to them Ron and the girl, neither of whom seemed to have noticed Harry and Malfoy, were doing the same. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were staring at the four of them. They looked from Harry to Malfoy, to Harry, to Ron, to the girl, and back to Ron before settling on Harry. Hermione spoke first.
"Would someone explain to me what just happened?"
Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. The girl looked uncertain. Malfoy looked bored, turned, and walked down the corridor and into an open compartment. Harry, for some obscure reason (possibly because Malfoy had quite probably saved his life), felt that he owed Malfoy... something. He sprinted after him and caught up just inside the compartment out of ear and eyeshot of his friends.
"Look, I... thanks."
"Forget it."
"No really-"
"Shut it Potter. You helped me. I helped you. We're square. Now you had better get back to your little group."
Harry hesitated for an instant before turning and leaving the compartment. Malfoy thought he heard Harry say something as he left but he was probably mistaken. After all, he and Potter were practically mortal enemies, weren't they? So there was no way Potter could have said what he thought he said. He thought Potter had said
"You're really not as bad as you make yourself out to be."
* * * * *
Back in their compartment Harry and Ron explained what had happened.
"I guess Malfoy felt he owed me for the spell that night. That is what I understood of what he said. Meanwhile, may we have an introduction to our new friend?" He looked inquiringly at the girl. She smiled and spoke in a very 'Texas' accent but without all the 'ya'alls' and 'folks'.
"M' name's Jesse. 'M from the states, Texas t' be specific. M' mother took it into her head that life 's too quite 'n' so we moved. 'M sixteen. What 'bout you?" Everyone introduced themselves and they gradually got into an easy conversation that ranged over all sorts of topics. Jesse (Harry only then noticed what she looked like. Brown, slightly curly hair that went down to about her shoulder blades and brown eyes flecked with bits of emerald. About Ginny's height, maybe shorter, rather pretty but by no means beautiful.) loved Country western music. Garth Brooks, the Dixie chicks, Joe Diffe, Kenny Chesney, Reba McEntyre, Blake Shelton, Collin Raye, Clint Black, Randy Travis, Alan Jackson, Trisha Yearwood, Toby Keith, Keith Urban (she bent over and told Hermione "'f all the singers I've e'er seen pictures of, he's t' die for. We're talkin' seriously hot 'n' with a drop dead gorgeous accent."), George Strait, Trace Atkins, Brad Paisley, Dirks Bently, Chris Cagle... she could go on for hours she said. She loved to read anything she could get her hands on, but preferred old western or cowboy stories, especially ones about her namesake, Jesse James. She watched the bull riding competitions every year and her uncle owned a pistol that was worth millions. She was all right with the move but she was sad because her lifelong friend and next door neighbor, Jeremy (she pronounced it Jair - mEE), was back at home and she hadn't had word from him in three months.
"'ats not like 'im. 's far back as I c'n remember we've been best friends. First time we stood, w' did 't hangin' on t' eachother. 'r first steps were taken 'and in 'and. M' first word was 'Jeremy'. 'is first was 'Jess'. We were the kind a friends 'at know eachother better 'n' our selves. 'til this move we'd ne'er been farder 'n a mile 'part. I miss him somthin' awful."
They all sat in silence after that, each contemplating how they related to what Jesse had said. Harry broke the silence.
"I've never had a friend that close, before Hogwarts I didn't have any friends period. But I've got the closest thing possible for someone like me. I've got the two best friends anyone could wish for."
He looked at Ron and Hermione and his eyes were shining with pride and joy.
* * * * *
The rest of the ride was spent explaining the past five years, in great detail, to Jesse. Nothing was spared, not even Harry and Ron's girl problems in fourth year. The lady with the cart came, they all grabbed snacks and, for a brief moment, all was quiet. It started to darken so they changed back to back and never once broke the flow of the stories (obsessed I know).
They were happily reminiscing about past exploits when the train pulled into Hogsmead station. It looked about to rain so they hurriedly split up into two carriages for the ride to the school.
As they rode in the thestral-drawn carriages, the thought sprang unbidden to Harry's mind that it would be quicker to simply ride the thestral. Then, of course, he remembered the single time he'd ridden one. He could picture everything so clearly. His vision. The diversion. The fireplace. Grimmauld place. Kreacher. Umbrige. Lying. The forbidden forest. The centaurs. Grawp. The DA members. Thestrals. Flying. Landing. The ministry. The hallway. The door. The spinning room. Shelves with glass spheres. Voldermort. The prophecy. Running. Spells. A baby deatheater. Ron and Hermione hurt. Neville hit. Seats. The veil. Them. Fighting. Remus. Bellatrix. Sirius. Falling. The veil. Falling. Gone. For good. Gone.
No matter how hard he tried to forget, he still saw Sirius every night in his dreams. He'd relived it a hundred times. And it hurt! The reminder every day and night that, this time, Harry had lost Sirius for good, hit him hard every time he thought about it. For the first month after that day, Harry had dreamt about it every night. He saw and felt everything as clearly as he had when it had happened. Recently his dreams had become fewer and farther apart, but they had also become steadily worse. They now involved everything from Cedric's death to Mrs. Weasley's boggart. In his dreams he could see exactly what was happening but he was powerless to stop it.
That summer, Harry had told Hermione about the dreams and she had sent him a carved wooden cross. To a casual glance, that was all it was, but, to a wizard, it was more. This cross, when hung above the bed, acted like a silencing spell and kept the Dursleys from hearing him. And so, no one heard Harry's screaming as everyone he loved was tortured and killed. He would toss and turn in silence as Voldermort levitated Ron and Hermione's tortured, bloody corpses. In silence, he would scream out the names when the Weasley's house exploded. In silence, He would scratch his hands, to the point where they bled, because they were covered in the blood of the only people he'd ever loved. He –
"HARRY!!!"
His head jerked up painfully as he realized that Hermione and Ron had been trying to get his attention for the past two minutes.
"Sorry."
They looked at him worriedly.
"You alright mate?"
"Yes Ron, I'm fine."
They didn't look convinced.
"I was just... the thestrals reminded me of the dreams."
Hermione looked at him sympathetically.
"The cross worked though."
Hermione looked rather satisfied, but the satisfaction was diluted with concern. Ron looked confused.
"What're you on about? What dreams? What cross? What's going on?"
So Harry explained. Ron was annoyed.
"You do know that you can tell me anything? Right? I'm mean, how can I be your best mate if you don't tell me when you have screamin' bloody nightmares!?"
Harry apologized and Ron, of course, accepted it and everything between them was put to rights.
* * *
When they arrived in the entrance hall, Harry was pulled aside by his head of house. Professor McGonagall was looking at him in concern.
"Yes professor?"
"As long as there's nothing pressing on your mind, you will report to the headmaster's office directly after the feast."
"Yes professor."
"And potter,"
"Yes professor?"
"Do be careful. This isn't the first, nor, probably the last, time we've had someone of your persuasion at this school. It is always difficult, but we have always managed. It will require a tremendous amount of effort on your part, but I'm sure we'll manage."
Without another word she turned and walked into the great hall. Harry followed her and was in his seat when the sorting hat started its song. He listened as it gave yet more warnings.
"Back a thousand years or more,
Four wizards had a dream.
They lived and worked and tried to make
That thing that they had seen.
And when, at last, they were to die,
They needed something more.
So I was made to take their place
And sort to the houses four.
The sly and ambitious to Slytherin,
Brave and valiant Gryffindors,
Hufflepuffs, true and loyal,
And Ravenclaws for lore.
The animosity did grow
'Twixt Godric and Salazar.
And though the others tried to help
They'd let it grow too far.
The rift that had been torn 'tween them
Was too large to be patched.
One had to leave and ne'er return,
He never even looked back.
But as you know the time has come
To fix this school for good,
And do the thing that they had tried
And failed, for only we could.
And so to keep and save for now
That which we value most,
We must embrace our differences
Or sadly, become toast."
* * * *
A/N: "'s " is supposed to stand for the sound "uz " when the first letter or sound in the word "was " is cut off. I modeled Jesse's speech off that of my aunt. You can laugh if you like. This mode of talking sounds great when I say it aloud before typing, but doesn't look so good on paper.
I apologize if this seems at all slow to you, I just write that way. Well, I also just finished reading a fic that moved way too fast. One moment Harry and Draco are hating each others guts, they try to have a conversation, end up going into "aggressive negotiations" (star wars episode II attack of the clones), then suddenly they're getting very friendly indeed in a bedroom. It was too fast for my liking.
One question. Is there someone reading this who lives in England (or at least that general area of Europe) or grew up there, who wouldn't mind being asked tons of questions about your daily life? Much as I'd like to, I've never been to Europe, in fact I live in Arizona and the furthest from home I've been is Montana. I've never even left the western United States, much less the country. Ah well, review please if you've got a moment.
Chapter Eight
For a moment that seemed frozen in time Harry didn't move, didn't breath. He just stared at Malfoy as the adrenaline rush cooled and their heart rates, both of them, returned to normal. Their eyes were locked and Harry thought that Malfoy's eyes were probably the deepest, most alluring color he'd ever seen and he wondered why he'd never noticed them before. They were like small pools of water that the light was shining through. The two boys might have gone on staring like that, lost in thought, for quite a long while if the compartment door hadn't opened (it had closed behind them when Ron and Harry ran out).
At the sound of the door Harry and Malfoy realized their rather, uh, compromising position. They sprang apart and were dusting them selves off by the time the door was fully opened. Next to them Ron and the girl, neither of whom seemed to have noticed Harry and Malfoy, were doing the same. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were staring at the four of them. They looked from Harry to Malfoy, to Harry, to Ron, to the girl, and back to Ron before settling on Harry. Hermione spoke first.
"Would someone explain to me what just happened?"
Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. The girl looked uncertain. Malfoy looked bored, turned, and walked down the corridor and into an open compartment. Harry, for some obscure reason (possibly because Malfoy had quite probably saved his life), felt that he owed Malfoy... something. He sprinted after him and caught up just inside the compartment out of ear and eyeshot of his friends.
"Look, I... thanks."
"Forget it."
"No really-"
"Shut it Potter. You helped me. I helped you. We're square. Now you had better get back to your little group."
Harry hesitated for an instant before turning and leaving the compartment. Malfoy thought he heard Harry say something as he left but he was probably mistaken. After all, he and Potter were practically mortal enemies, weren't they? So there was no way Potter could have said what he thought he said. He thought Potter had said
"You're really not as bad as you make yourself out to be."
* * * * *
Back in their compartment Harry and Ron explained what had happened.
"I guess Malfoy felt he owed me for the spell that night. That is what I understood of what he said. Meanwhile, may we have an introduction to our new friend?" He looked inquiringly at the girl. She smiled and spoke in a very 'Texas' accent but without all the 'ya'alls' and 'folks'.
"M' name's Jesse. 'M from the states, Texas t' be specific. M' mother took it into her head that life 's too quite 'n' so we moved. 'M sixteen. What 'bout you?" Everyone introduced themselves and they gradually got into an easy conversation that ranged over all sorts of topics. Jesse (Harry only then noticed what she looked like. Brown, slightly curly hair that went down to about her shoulder blades and brown eyes flecked with bits of emerald. About Ginny's height, maybe shorter, rather pretty but by no means beautiful.) loved Country western music. Garth Brooks, the Dixie chicks, Joe Diffe, Kenny Chesney, Reba McEntyre, Blake Shelton, Collin Raye, Clint Black, Randy Travis, Alan Jackson, Trisha Yearwood, Toby Keith, Keith Urban (she bent over and told Hermione "'f all the singers I've e'er seen pictures of, he's t' die for. We're talkin' seriously hot 'n' with a drop dead gorgeous accent."), George Strait, Trace Atkins, Brad Paisley, Dirks Bently, Chris Cagle... she could go on for hours she said. She loved to read anything she could get her hands on, but preferred old western or cowboy stories, especially ones about her namesake, Jesse James. She watched the bull riding competitions every year and her uncle owned a pistol that was worth millions. She was all right with the move but she was sad because her lifelong friend and next door neighbor, Jeremy (she pronounced it Jair - mEE), was back at home and she hadn't had word from him in three months.
"'ats not like 'im. 's far back as I c'n remember we've been best friends. First time we stood, w' did 't hangin' on t' eachother. 'r first steps were taken 'and in 'and. M' first word was 'Jeremy'. 'is first was 'Jess'. We were the kind a friends 'at know eachother better 'n' our selves. 'til this move we'd ne'er been farder 'n a mile 'part. I miss him somthin' awful."
They all sat in silence after that, each contemplating how they related to what Jesse had said. Harry broke the silence.
"I've never had a friend that close, before Hogwarts I didn't have any friends period. But I've got the closest thing possible for someone like me. I've got the two best friends anyone could wish for."
He looked at Ron and Hermione and his eyes were shining with pride and joy.
* * * * *
The rest of the ride was spent explaining the past five years, in great detail, to Jesse. Nothing was spared, not even Harry and Ron's girl problems in fourth year. The lady with the cart came, they all grabbed snacks and, for a brief moment, all was quiet. It started to darken so they changed back to back and never once broke the flow of the stories (obsessed I know).
They were happily reminiscing about past exploits when the train pulled into Hogsmead station. It looked about to rain so they hurriedly split up into two carriages for the ride to the school.
As they rode in the thestral-drawn carriages, the thought sprang unbidden to Harry's mind that it would be quicker to simply ride the thestral. Then, of course, he remembered the single time he'd ridden one. He could picture everything so clearly. His vision. The diversion. The fireplace. Grimmauld place. Kreacher. Umbrige. Lying. The forbidden forest. The centaurs. Grawp. The DA members. Thestrals. Flying. Landing. The ministry. The hallway. The door. The spinning room. Shelves with glass spheres. Voldermort. The prophecy. Running. Spells. A baby deatheater. Ron and Hermione hurt. Neville hit. Seats. The veil. Them. Fighting. Remus. Bellatrix. Sirius. Falling. The veil. Falling. Gone. For good. Gone.
No matter how hard he tried to forget, he still saw Sirius every night in his dreams. He'd relived it a hundred times. And it hurt! The reminder every day and night that, this time, Harry had lost Sirius for good, hit him hard every time he thought about it. For the first month after that day, Harry had dreamt about it every night. He saw and felt everything as clearly as he had when it had happened. Recently his dreams had become fewer and farther apart, but they had also become steadily worse. They now involved everything from Cedric's death to Mrs. Weasley's boggart. In his dreams he could see exactly what was happening but he was powerless to stop it.
That summer, Harry had told Hermione about the dreams and she had sent him a carved wooden cross. To a casual glance, that was all it was, but, to a wizard, it was more. This cross, when hung above the bed, acted like a silencing spell and kept the Dursleys from hearing him. And so, no one heard Harry's screaming as everyone he loved was tortured and killed. He would toss and turn in silence as Voldermort levitated Ron and Hermione's tortured, bloody corpses. In silence, he would scream out the names when the Weasley's house exploded. In silence, He would scratch his hands, to the point where they bled, because they were covered in the blood of the only people he'd ever loved. He –
"HARRY!!!"
His head jerked up painfully as he realized that Hermione and Ron had been trying to get his attention for the past two minutes.
"Sorry."
They looked at him worriedly.
"You alright mate?"
"Yes Ron, I'm fine."
They didn't look convinced.
"I was just... the thestrals reminded me of the dreams."
Hermione looked at him sympathetically.
"The cross worked though."
Hermione looked rather satisfied, but the satisfaction was diluted with concern. Ron looked confused.
"What're you on about? What dreams? What cross? What's going on?"
So Harry explained. Ron was annoyed.
"You do know that you can tell me anything? Right? I'm mean, how can I be your best mate if you don't tell me when you have screamin' bloody nightmares!?"
Harry apologized and Ron, of course, accepted it and everything between them was put to rights.
* * *
When they arrived in the entrance hall, Harry was pulled aside by his head of house. Professor McGonagall was looking at him in concern.
"Yes professor?"
"As long as there's nothing pressing on your mind, you will report to the headmaster's office directly after the feast."
"Yes professor."
"And potter,"
"Yes professor?"
"Do be careful. This isn't the first, nor, probably the last, time we've had someone of your persuasion at this school. It is always difficult, but we have always managed. It will require a tremendous amount of effort on your part, but I'm sure we'll manage."
Without another word she turned and walked into the great hall. Harry followed her and was in his seat when the sorting hat started its song. He listened as it gave yet more warnings.
"Back a thousand years or more,
Four wizards had a dream.
They lived and worked and tried to make
That thing that they had seen.
And when, at last, they were to die,
They needed something more.
So I was made to take their place
And sort to the houses four.
The sly and ambitious to Slytherin,
Brave and valiant Gryffindors,
Hufflepuffs, true and loyal,
And Ravenclaws for lore.
The animosity did grow
'Twixt Godric and Salazar.
And though the others tried to help
They'd let it grow too far.
The rift that had been torn 'tween them
Was too large to be patched.
One had to leave and ne'er return,
He never even looked back.
But as you know the time has come
To fix this school for good,
And do the thing that they had tried
And failed, for only we could.
And so to keep and save for now
That which we value most,
We must embrace our differences
Or sadly, become toast."
* * * *
A/N: "'s " is supposed to stand for the sound "uz " when the first letter or sound in the word "was " is cut off. I modeled Jesse's speech off that of my aunt. You can laugh if you like. This mode of talking sounds great when I say it aloud before typing, but doesn't look so good on paper.
I apologize if this seems at all slow to you, I just write that way. Well, I also just finished reading a fic that moved way too fast. One moment Harry and Draco are hating each others guts, they try to have a conversation, end up going into "aggressive negotiations" (star wars episode II attack of the clones), then suddenly they're getting very friendly indeed in a bedroom. It was too fast for my liking.
One question. Is there someone reading this who lives in England (or at least that general area of Europe) or grew up there, who wouldn't mind being asked tons of questions about your daily life? Much as I'd like to, I've never been to Europe, in fact I live in Arizona and the furthest from home I've been is Montana. I've never even left the western United States, much less the country. Ah well, review please if you've got a moment.