Chapter 11: Back to School
"People have nightmares about things apart from Voldemort…" Harry's quiet confession had an unsettling effect on his three friends. Up until this point, his voice had been clear and steady. To his own surprise, he had told them the truth and answered all of their questions without any sign of weakness, but when Hermione asked him about his nightmares, he couldn't control the note of desperation that slipped into his voice.
Desperate. That was how he felt. At last, he had gathered the strength to tell them the truth; he had told them of the danger they were in, but to his dismay, they seemed more concerned about him. After Harry had told the three about the evil threats hanging over them, they had spent a few minutes in shocked silence, but soon they had recovered and they focused instead on Harry. What protection did he have against Voldemort? How was he preparing himself? They insisted on knowing, and so Harry explained.
"I am preparing myself. I asked to join the Order so I would know what's going on. Lupin's helping me learn to apparate. Obviously, I've become an animagus in case I need to disguise myself." Harry had hesitated then, unsure whether he should tell them how he had spent his last couple of weeks at the Dursleys', but before he could decide, Hermione spoke up.
"What about your mind? Last time I checked, Voldemort had free range over your thoughts. I think you should take up occlumency." She crossed her arms decisively.
"As a matter of fact, that issue has already been addressed." Harry couldn't keep his face free of the bewilderment he felt; he was still puzzling over the idea that he had completely blocked off his own consciousness.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked interestedly. Harry shrugged and told them what Lupin had said.
"But wouldn't you have realized awhile ago?" Hermione asked, "I mean, didn't you notice when you stopped having nightmares?" That had been the point where Harry finally broke down. Didn't they understand? Of course he still had nightmares! Terrible, blood-chilling nightmares that made him wake up shaking and panicked. But Hermione was right; the nightmares were no longer visions of Voldemort. Instead, nearly every night, Harry was confronted with horrible images of the death and suffering of his loved ones. He wouldn't even attempt to count how many times he had watched each of his friends die, painfully and horribly, and here they were asking about his safety! Were they going to completely ignore what he had told them about Voldemort? He would not let them.
"D'you want to know what I see in my dreams every night, Hermione…? Every night?" Hermione had given him an apprehensive nod, and Harry closed his eyes wearily as he continued, "I see you—all of you, and the teachers, and your family, Ron, and…and Sirius. I see everyone. And I watch every night, as one of you is killed! Or tortured…" he shook his head slowly, "People have nightmares about things apart from Voldemort…"
Harry knew his voice wavered as he spoke, but after a few moments of silence, he went on, "Don't you see? You should be worrying about yourselves! You're all in danger now, and I…I'm so sorry!" He closed his eyes tightly, wishing he close out the suffocating reality that he faced, but he forced them open again and looked around at his friends.
Though Hermione's face was streaked with tears, she was looking back at him defiantly. Ron, also, had a bold look. Ginny still held Harry's hand firmly, but her eyes, which seemed not to focus on anything in front of her, held a pensive look. He noticed for the first time, how much she'd changed in the past five years, and yet now more than ever, she reminded him of the first time he'd met her. Back then she'd been too shy to even speak to him, but now it seemed so natural to have her hand wrapped in his…so comforting. Harry's perplexed pondering was interrupted as the small red-head spoke suddenly.
"It seems to me, that you are right. If we don't take Voldemort's plans seriously, we are a weakness for you. On the other hand…if we protect ourselves and help you prepare, we can only be a strength." Harry looked at her sadly.
"But that's just the problem!" he said, "You can't be either…I can't let any of you close to me at all! Voldemort said to Nagini, 'Find out who he loves…'" Harry stopped immediately, the confused faces telling him once again that he was speaking in Parseltongue. "Argh!" He roared in frustration and began looking around for parchment and a pen.
"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron sighed, "It doesn't matter what he says. You can't protect us by pushing us away; everyone already knows we're friends." Hermione nodded.
"All we can do is help each other and try our best," she said. Harry knew they were right.
"Yes," he nodded, "I suppose we can look on the bright side, anyway. At least we know what to expect. I'm sure Dumbledore and everyone will have some ideas of how to protect you, and I s'pose having D.A. again will be good…" Harry slumped back in his chair. "This is going to be a long year!"
Harry spent the rest of the morning trying to organize his trunk with Hermione's assistance. Ron sat nearby playing a surprisingly exciting match of wizards' chess against himself, and Ginny curled up in a large armchair and read aloud from Harry's apparation book. By the time Mrs. Weasley's voice floated up, announcing her return and lunchtime, Ginny had made it almost all the way through the book and Harry's trunk was in spanking order. Ron set aside his chess pieces, and the four of them tromped downstairs for lunch.
"Hello, hello!" Mrs. Weasley's cheerful voice rang out from the depths of a large shopping bag as she reached into it. She pulled herself out a moment later, hefting a pile of books onto the table. "These are all yours, dear," she nodded at Harry, "I wasn't sure if you needed anything else, so Fred and George said they'd be glad to pick up whatever you need. They'll be dropping by later." She smiled happily and Harry decided she must have forgotten about this morning's kitchen disaster.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he reached for the books. Perhaps he would find something useful in one of these? Immediately, Harry sat down and began scanning the titles, wondering which he should look at first. His eyes fell suddenly on Magical Healing and Remedies, and he looked up sharply at Hermione. "Hey, Hermione?" he began quietly.
"Hmm?" Hermione's tone was innocent, but it was obvious that she knew what was coming next, as she was looking around nervously, stubbornly avoiding Harry's eyes.
"I meant to ask you earlier," Harry continued in a whisper, not wanting to be overheard by Ron's mum, "Why you took it upon yourself to sign me up for the Healing elective?" Hermione looked slightly alarmed at his calm words.
"Well…you didn't choose anything….and…I thought…" She looked down at her hands. "I thought it would be a good idea!" she answered quickly. Harry's eyes narrowed, and he noticed that both Ron and Ginny hastily scooted away to help Mrs. Weasley.
"So I guess it didn't occur to you that maybe I didn't want to take an elective?"
"Oh! Come on, Harry!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "Everybody takes an elective! Even I'm taking one and I've got ten N.E.W.T. classes! Anyways, if you don't like Healing, I'm sure you can change to something else, I just thought—"
"But I don't need to take another! I've got six N.E.W.T. classes myself, which is more than enough! I don't have the slightest interest in adding to my workload."
"But electives are your chance to get extra knowledge! Don't you want to learn as much as you can? To be as prepared as poss—"
"I really doubt that Healing or Arts and Crafts is going to be much use to me, Hermione!"
"You don't agree that Healing might come in handy? Remind me—how many times have you been sent to the infirmary?" Harry was about to utter a scathing reply, but stopped short as a plate of sandwiches was shoved in his face by Ron. Hermione evidently took his silence as a sign that she had won the argument, but Harry continued to glare at her for the rest of the meal.
Afterwards, they all returned to the boys' room, determined to practice apparating before dinner that evening. Harry placed his new books carefully into his trunk while Ginny finished reading, and then, somewhat nervously, prepared to apparate. Hermione suggested that they try one at a time, in case there was an accident and one of them had to go for help. Ron paled slightly at the mention of accidents and suggested that someone else go first.
"I'm not sure I paid very close attention…" he admitted, earning himself reproving looks from both Hermione and Ginny, but Harry noticed that neither of the girls offered to try first either.
"Well, I guess I'll have a go, then?" he said, grinning at the relieved looks from his friends. He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, but as he carefully followed the "ten simple steps" the book had taught, he was pleased to find that he had no trouble at all. The next second, he found himself standing by the doorway, looking across the room to where he had been only a moment before. He gave the other three a quick grin before once again closing his eyes in concentration. When he opened them again, he found himself almost exactly where he had started, facing three sets of wide, shocked eyes. For a split second it looked as though his friends were about to say something, but evidently they thought better of it. The room was soon full of the distinct, popping noise as Ron, Ginny, and Hermione each took their turns, and had similar success, though Ron, at one point, accidentally apparated himself underneath his bed, rather than on top, and Ginny kept appearing several inches above the spots where she meant to appear.
As they happily made their way down to dinner that evening, Harry wondered aloud why such strict controls were put on apparation if it were so simple. He had always gotten the impression that it was dangerous and complicated, but Hermione explained that most apparation accidents happen to wizards who do not have a stable sense of self.
"…Which is why the Ministry insists that people wait until they are of-age. I guess they figure, if you're ever going to develop any personal awareness, you'll have done so by the time you're seventeen." Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, but neither commented as they pushed their way into the noisy, crowded dining room.
*****
The atmosphere in the dining room was friendly and comfortable. Minerva McGonagall let her gaze roam lazily around the room, noticing the smiles, laughter, and friendly chatter that seemed to spring back and forth around the long, shining table. Indeed, the only face that did not look happy was the one seated next to her.
Severus Snape sat stiffly in his chair, picking uninterestedly at his food. He looked up every so often, and shot dirty looks at the group of teenagers seated at the far end of the table. Minerva shook her head grimly and addressed her younger colleague.
"You're doing it again, Severus."
"Pardon?" He turned to face her, still scowling.
"Don't you think that young man has enough to deal with without your notorious temper?" Severus snorted and looked back to his plate.
"I believe both of us, Potter and myself, were dearly looking forward to his dropping out of my class…" he admitted, "I was so close to never having to speak to him again! Now, though…."
"You almost got your wish, Severus," Minerva told him quietly, "According to Miss Granger, Harry had every intention of not returning to Hogwarts at all. The Potions professor sneered at this, and seemed to dismiss it with a wave of his hand.
"Another attention-seeking act, I imag—"
"I rather think not. Based on what Miss Granger told me and something Lupin said, I think Mr. Potter was quite serious. I might not have believed it myself, though, if Remus hadn't said anything; Potter is normally desperate to return to the school…"
"How do you know that?"
"Oh, Dumbledore has said so to me a number of times. The boy dreads spending time away from Hogwarts."
"I suppose his muggle relatives don't give him as much praise and worship as he's used to."
"Are you blind, Severus?" She raised her eyebrows in disbelief as she spoke. Snape scowled dangerously again, but Minerva ignored it and went on in a whisper. "I know you saw the condition that boy was in! You escorted him here, after all. Surely you noticed how thin he looked! How thin he still looks!" Her temper was rising steadily. "I don't care what delusions you're under, Severus! Potter is not the pampered, attention-craving person you seem to think he is. If you ever open your eyes to reality you—"
"I'll find out that the marvelous Harry Potter is brilliant, courageous Gryffindor, just like his insufferable father." Snape's face was contorted into a look of disgust. Minerva glared at him.
"He's certainly a true Gryffindor," she agreed, "But as much as I hate to break it to you, he's is very unlike James in many ways—not counting his physical features, of course. I knew James; I remember both his virtues and his faults. I know Harry even better, and believe me, he's a different person entirely."
"Please spare me. The boy thinks he is above the rules, just like James. He has no respect for authority."
"I haven't heard any other teacher complain of this," Minerva replied. "He's always treated me respectfully."
"Well, I have no idea how he behaves in your classes, but I assure you, he is rude and sullen in my lessons, not to mention his careless attitude towards his work. I don't believe I've ever seen a student perform so far below his potential! He doesn't care how ignorant he looks."
"That," Minerva said smugly, "Sounds distinctly unlike James Potter." Snape gave no reply this time. He merely scowled again and turned his attention back to his plate; the conversation was evidently over.
*****
The next day dawned bright and warm. The boys munched toast as they rummaged around their room and prepared to leave. Harry was both anxious and excited about the upcoming trip; Lupin had revealed to him last night that the two of them would be flying separately rather than taking the Hogwarts Express. Normally, Harry would be overjoyed with the chance to have a nice long fly, but he found that he was nervous about today's flight, because Lupin had made it quite clear that he would not be using his Firebolt for most of the journey, meaning that, for the first time, Harry would be traveling in his owl form.
Finally, he said goodbye to Hermione and the Weasleys, who were being escorted to the train station by several aurors. One of these was Tonks, who had used her metamorphmagus abilities to change herself into a teenage version of herself. She had chosen freckles and long, blonde hair, which she then pulled into a haphazard ponytail. As a finishing touch, she had acquired a pair of slim glasses with thin, sliver frames. The final result was very convincing and Harry was sure that none of the other students would suspect that she was anything other than a new classmate, but he wondered if she would be able to keep up the charade for a whole year.
"Well," Lupin murmured slowly as he peered out the window, "I think they're out of sight—you can transform now." Harry was surprised.
"You know, I told Ron and them about my being an animagus…"
"Hmm…well, even so, the others don't know."
"But…they're in the Order…" He shook his head uncomprehendingly, but Lupin gave a weary sigh.
"Despite what you may think, members of the Order don't always get all the details. Apart from yourself and Minerva McGonagall, only Dumbledore and I were told about your animagus disguise; Snape knows you're an animagus, of course, but he wasn't informed of your form. Your security is of utmost importance, so everyone in the Order agreed that it was best to keep these matters as secret as possible."
"I'm so sick of secrets," Harry said, shaking his head in disgust. "But evidently Dumbledore's shared the prophecy with you all…'utmost importance'…"
"He has," Lupin admitted quietly, "But only the first half of it."
"The only part Voldemort knows," Harry said. Lupin nodded. "So, Dumbledore doesn't trust some of the members of the Order?"
"No. That's not it. The human mind is a vulnerable thing; it's best to avoid the danger altogether."
"Right…" Harry said miserably, realizing the truth in Lupin's words. "Well, I suppose Ron, Hermione, and Ginny will all have to take up occlumency, then. I told them everything." The older man looked slightly taken aback. Harry shrugged and continued bitterly, "I told you: I've had it with secrets. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I suppose I've just made another stupid mistake."
"Listen," Lupin said bracingly, "You haven't made a mistake. They're smart kids and they care about you; they would have learned it eventually. Perhaps they will have to start occlumency lessons, but that's not really such a bad thing. Anyways, I agree with you on the secrecy issue—some things shouldn't be kept hidden. On that note, there are a few things I'd like to talk to you about, but let's go ahead and get flying—I can talk on the way."