And for about the hundredth time in two days, Harry Potter was running through a Hogwarts hallway.
"At the very least," he thought wryly, "I'll be in peak shape for Quidditch." But the thought of being Quidditch Captain still made his stomach wriggle, so he forced it out of his head.
Finally, he arrived at the trap door in the ceiling with the brass plate bearing the name Sybill Trelawney. He took a deep sigh. Well, there was no ladder...maybe he could just leave, and tell her the next time he saw her that she'd forgotten to leave the ladder out?
But just as a little bit of hope sprang up in his chest, the trap door opened, and a ladder magically lowered itself in front of him.
"Come right up, Mr. Potter!" came the ethereal sound of Trelawney's voice, "I've been expecting you!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Only because you told me when and where to meet you," he muttered, but he climbed the ladder dutifully. When he finally clambered up into Trelawney's dim attic classroom, he was reminded how uncomfortably warm it was. The windows had the curtains drawn, there were veils over all the lights, and as always, the fireplace was crackling. One thing was different, however, from his previous classes – after he stepped into the room, the ladder magically withdrew back into itself, and the trap door slammed shut.
"So that no one disturbs us. It is vital that we remain uninterrupted if we are to properly channel the psyche...I Iwas/I expecting you of course, but nonetheless, I am pleased to see you."
Harry looked up, and had to contain his laughter. Instead of her usual witches' robes adorned with countless scarves, beads, baubles, and trinkets, Trelawney was wearing what looked like shapeless, burlap pajamas, and was seated in the Lotus position on one of her chintz poufs, wearing the "enlightened" expression of a highly sedated cow.
She must have noticed the look on his face, because a raised eyebrow prompted him to say, "Err...yes. Nice to see you, too..."
He decided to try leveling with her. "Look, I'm...not doing any yoga..."
"Of course not!" she said, shaking her head as though he had said something very childish, "Ridiculous...Muggle nonsense...spraining muscles and tearing tendons in search of inner peace. No, no...ITranscendental Meditation/I, Mr. Potter. You are familiar?"
"Err...I know what it is...but, no...not familiar, sadly."
"Ah!" Trelawney gasped, and clucked her tongue as though not being familiar with Transcendental Meditation was a travesty indeed.
"Well, young man, that will all change starting today! First of all, why don't you drop your bags...yes, leave behind all the cares of your daily life..."
"I wish," Harry thought glumly, as he kicked his bag out of the way, and made himself comfortable in an armchair.
"No, no dear...like me!" Trelawney said serenely, indicating her pretzeled legs.
Feeling a bit ridiculous, Harry tucked one leg underneath himself, grabbed his ankle, and tried to get it to go above his left knee, but his trainers kept catch on his pants leg, and he couldn't get it to stay. He winced as his knee gave an audible pop, and he looked up to see Professor Trelawney eyeing him pityingly.
"Hmm...this might be more difficult than I thought."
Harry felt his blood start to pound. Who was she to look down her nose at him? He didn't need to come here every week, of his own free will, just to be made a fool out of...
"Calm down," he told himself, "Occlumency. You're doing this for a reason."
"Aaaaaaaand IN???...." Trelawney intoned.
Alarmed, Harry wondered briefly what he ought to do. Was this a question? In what? But Trelawney settled the mystery for him by inhaling a vast amount of air through her upturned nostrils, with a sound somewhere between rustling of leaves, and Aunt Petunia's vacuum cleaner.
This time, he couldn't stop his laughter in time.
"I Ido/I hope, Mr. Potter," she said, her voice considerably less misty, "That you are taking this seriously? Laughter is very disruptive to the aura."
"Ah. Yes. Sorry...Didn't mean to...disturb your aura," he said, stifling laughter even as the words left his mouth. He coughed, cleared his throat, and dutifully took in a large breath through his nose.
"Ah!" cried Trelawney, and Harry again felt a jolt of alarm, "I knew it! Completely atrophied – totally disconnected...Not nearly enough, dear, go on...deeper!"
Harry, bewildered, tried to force a little more air into his lungs.
"Yes, THAT'S the way...aaaaaaaand.........OUUUUUUUUT....."
Harry blew the air out his lungs, and began to cough. It felt as though somebody had been pulling on his ribs.
"Veeeery good. Aaaaaaand IN???"
Harry groaned inwardly. He had been the youngest Seeker in a century. He'd faced dragons, dementors...he'd escaped Lord Voldemort more times than he could count on one hand, and he had not come to Hogwarts to take breathing lessons from Professor Sybill Trelawney.
He was just formulating an excuse to head down to dinner, when he realized Sybill was observing him curiously, her head cocked to the side like a spaniel's – Harry was surprised to realize he'd seen a similar expression on Luna Lovegood.
"You're doubtful. I can sense it...you're sending out very doubtful waves."
Harry thought wryly of some other choice waves to send out.
"Doubt can be useful, Mr. Potter, as I'm sure Miss Granger has demonstrated for you. It forces us to corroborate our suspicions, and re-evaluate what we perceive to be the truth... Yes, doubt can even save lives."
Harry felt as though ice water was flooding his heart...was she talking about Sirius? If he had doubted...if he had just questioned the visions Voldemort was planting in his head...
"But doubt is not everything."
"What is," Harry muttered irritably.
"Wonder."
He didn't say anything. He felt hot, cranky, and not terribly "Zen." But mostly, he admitted to himself, he was annoyed that Sybill Trelawney might know something he didn't.
"Alright, Hermione," he thought to himself resolutely, "If you think this is a good idea...I guess I can stand breathing lessons."
They spent the next half-hour improving Harry's lung capacity. Half the time he ended up coughing and choking. But by the end of the half hour, he was able to draw in deep, measured breaths...the steady (albeit annoying) sound of air rushing through their nostrils was actually soothing in a way. He felt knots he didn't know existed untie in his shoulders and his eyebrows. His fingers and toes felt warmer, and seemed to be...vibrating, almost. He admitted to himself that he felt pretty good.
"Yes, very good," Trelawney intoned deeply, "Most of us walk around taking shallow little breaths...shallow little breaths, Mr. Potter, make for shallow little lives. Ah – straighten...yesssss, better, no slouching. Now...Transcendental Meditation requires that we take a moment to commune with nature, and with the psychic forces swirling around us...that we just..." she gestured off into space dreamily, "Drift off! Let our minds wander, and eventually, find stillness..."
Harry felt like his mind was about to find stillness in a more traditional way, and he had to jerk his eyes open.
"Now...close your eyes..."
"I'm done for," Harry thought sleepily.
"Yesssss, good."
The scent of the incense...the warmth of the room...the soft, plush yield of the armchair below him...but it wasn't an armchair...it was an arm...a large, hairy arm, and he was warm, with the motorcycle humming underneath him...
He was walking down the corridor to the Department of Mysteries. He opened the door, and stepped into the circular chamber, lit by blue torches...he wondered which door to take...
He was walking down a corridor at Hogwarts...he heard Ron's voice...
"Mr. Potter!" Trelawney's voice rang out. It was decidedly shrill and un-misty. Harry jolted awake.
"Yes, well," Trelawney muttered angrily, "I suppose that was...a beginning...of sorts. Although apparently closing your eyes was a bad idea."
"S-sorry," Harry said, stifling an involuntary yawn, "I've just been really tired, is all..."
"Yes, yes, fine," Trelawney said, irritatedly, "You may go if you like."
Harry felt badly...he hadn't meant to embarrass her.
"Thanks for the lesson," he said courteously, "I'll practice during the week."
Trelawney seemed a bit mollified, and some of the mist had re-inflated her voice.
"You do that, Mr. Potter...it is, after all, a practice...There is no end arrival, just the continued practice of it...I shall see you in a week."
She waved her wand, and the trap door opened up.
As he was walking to the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but think back on his dream with frustration. What was Ron saying? He also felt a bit nervous. Maybe he should tell someone.
"It's probably just a dream," he repeated mentally, "If there's anything suspicious or weird, I'll go straight to Dumbledore."
But his conscience was nagging...
He arrived at dinner to find Luna Lovegood sitting next to Ron, making an abstract sculpture out of her mashed potatoes, while Neville looked on, discouraged. Both Ron and Ginny were grumpily stabbing and sawing at their food, and Michael Corner was regaling them with an (apparently) long-winded explanation of moves he was going to perform at the Quidditch try-outs.
"That's right," Ginny said, "Aren't you going out with Cho? She'll have to let you in, won't she?"
Michael adopted the tremulous expression of a kicked puppy. "You know we broke up."
"Right, how could I forget," Ginny said ruefully, as though wishing very much they were still together.
"Cho Chang, I'm assuming?" Harry said, sitting down next to Ginny.
"The same," Ginny said, "Made Captain, apparently." She allowed herself a naughty smirk in his direction, "Going to make for an interesting match with Ravenclaw this year."
Harry gave her a sidelong smirk. He really didn't hold any grudges with Cho...in fact, he sincerely hoped she'd be happier this year...he knew what it was like to have memories you couldn't get rid of. He was about to dig into the food that had appeared on his plate, when he noticed Ron's predicament, and figured he'd better throw him a life-line.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked pointedly.
"Not sure she's coming. Had a fight," Ron said glumly, "As usual. Over you, actually. I told her it was really pushy of her to write to Trelawney like that," he said, "and she said I never appreciated anything she did, and she brought up the whole thing with my textbook, and...well, it doesn't matter anyway, she's just in one of her moods."
"He was a git," Ginny said frankly. Ron scowled. "Well, you were! You said she just did it to show off!"
"Do you have to Isay/I it?" Ron said angrily, "I mean, alright, I wanted to buy my own books, it's not my fault that..." but he stopped himself.
Harry felt a twinge of guilt. Ought he to have bought Ron's books for him? Yes, he'd bought them the robes, but he could afford it...besides, it was his fault their house had burned down...
"Hey, uhm...Luna?" Neville said, reaching into his schoolbag, "I...I was in...Herbology today, and...oh...you probably know that, because you're in Ravenclaw, and you always have class after us...not, you and me, I mean, Gryffindor and...anyway, if you didn't know, we were working on Venomous Tentaculas?..."
"Oh!" Luna said, surprisedly looking up from her potato art, "Hello, Neville!"
Harry and Ron winced. But Neville seemed delighted.
"Hello!" he said, "Oh, right, I...I made this...it's f...for you...if you want it."
And he took out a small clay pot...inside, was an even smaller sprout, and at the very top was a tiny white orchid.
"Oh," Luna said, as though he had passed her the butter, "Thank you, Neville!"
"Watch," Neville said, smiling shyly. He took out a quill, and began tickling its petals. Suddenly, it snapped closed, and Harry could hear a quiet hissing sound.
"See, it's a hybrid," Neville said fondly, "It snaps closed on little bugs and things, and then the venom dissolves it..."
Luna's eyes went wide, and she leaned in closer.
"Really!" she said, "Is it only for feeding, or is it also a defense mechanism?" Neville flushed with pride.
"I don't really know," he said, gaining a little confidence, "I just invented it, I guess...I asked Professor Sprout if anyone had ever tried pollenating a fly trap with a Tentacula spore, and she said they hadn't...so...I thought you might like it, because..."
He took a deep breath, "Well, because it's smart. Well, for a plant it is...and it's a little odd...and really...really beautiful."
Harry found he was holding his breath. He could feel that Ginny had stopped bouncing her knee under the table. Ron was tactlessly gaping at Neville open-mouthed, like a man who'd just spied his salvation.
"Mmm..." Luna said dreamily, "It is beautiful, in a plant sort of way. Does it have a name?"
"IVenus Tentacula!/I" Neville said proudly, "But...er...you can call her whatever you want."
"Is it a she?" Luna asked curiously, tilting her head, "How can you tell?"
"Oh," Neville said, blushing, "I guess, I just thought of it as a she."
"Maybe she reminds you of someone," Ginny said casually, smiling down at her plate. Harry gave her a sidelong glance. That was a bit ham-fisted...
Suddenly, there was loud "whumph!" as Hermione's books came thudding down on the bench, shortly followed by Hermione herself. Food appeared in front of her, and she began to eat.
"Hmph," Ron said gruffly, "We were just wondering whether you'd be here or not."
"Harry," Hermione said frostily, "Would you please tell Ron that Great Hall is where one generally goes to eat dinner?"
"Harry," Ron said crossly, and Harry felt the same uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, "IDo/I tell Hermione that there are plenty of other tables in Great Hall."
"You want me to leave?" Hermione asked directly.
Ron hesitated. Ginny kicked him under the table.
"Ow! No...no."
"Don't Ihelp/I, Ginny," Hermione said crossly, and stalked off carrying her plate.
"Here," Luna said, reaching into her bag, and taking out another hideous troll. She placed it on the table in front of Ron, "I think you might need more than one."
After having to write that dreadful werewolf essay, and the Potions one, and another week of tough classes, Harry was quite glad when Saturday arrived. He woke up with the sun, his nerves jangling merrily, the fresh, clean smell wafting in through the open window.
"And no dreams!" he mentally congratulated himself. He heard Ron stir next to him, and he yanked the curtains back.
"Rise and shine!" he whispered, shaking Ron roughly.
Ron groaned, "Giiiiin...j'z gimmfi' minz."
Harry grinned, and leaned closer.
"Quidditch."
Ron yawned, sat up in bed, and rubbed the blear out of his eyes with a grin.
"Finally!"
They hurriedly got dressed and rushed downstairs only to find Hermione asleep on the common room couch, a text book lying face-down on her stomach.
"I bet she waited up," Harry whispered guiltily, "so she could catch us before we went to practice."
Ron screwed up his face.
"You really should apologize –"
"We'll see her later," Ron said, "Besides, she knows where to find us. Come on."
They got to the Gryffindor locker room to find Sloper and Kirke already suited up, Ginny Weasley nodding off on top of a pile of clean uniforms, and Katie Bell yawningly tying her shin guards on.
"Wow," Harry said, "You lot are early."
"Raring to go, Captain!" saluted Jack smartly. Harry winced.
"Err...Harry will do fine, Jack...and...please don't salute. Right," he said briskly, "Well, first of all, I'm really glad you all made it. I know the whole team doesn't always show up for tryouts – "
"Wouldn't have it any other way!" Katie said, grinning.
Harry nodded happily. Well, at least she was back on his side. "Now, no matter who's out there, let's try to keep it neutral...don't...you know, react one way or the other. And just...fly your best. This is the first time we're practicing since summer—"
"Is it?" Katie asked, with a dubious expression. Ginny actually looked a bit guilty.
"Well, Harry...I mean, some of us live in wizarding families..."
"We practiced every day! Didn't we?" Andrew said excitedly. Jack Sloper nodded vigorously.
Harry felt quite stupid.
"Ah! Right. Well, first time II'm/I practicing since summer at least..."
He laughed nervously.
"Never hurt us before!" Ron said clapping Harry on the shoulders confidently. Katie smiled a bit, and seemed to relax.
"Right!" Harry said, "So let's get out there, have some fun, and find ourselves a Chaser!"
With a quick "Go, Go, Gryffindor!" they headed out to the field, to find...
"Err," said Ron, chuckling nervously, "D'you think they slept in?"
Harry's heart sank. Nobody? Nobody wanted to be a chaser for Gryffindor?
"It's because it's so early," Katie said glumly, "I bet people thought practices would be before classes, and didn't want to do it."
But Harry saw someone trudging through the main entrance.
"Oh no," Katie said under her breath.
