A/N Okay, rather large faux pas there... Neville, indeed, can see thestrals. Let's just say that Harry didn't remember that, hmmm?
Now, as for my hand, I'm hoping this passes soon and I can stop typing one-handed. I have most of the chapters written, so writing isn't the worst of it, but not responding to reader reviews is frustrating. I have so much I want to say! I'll get back to that as soon as I can... thank you so much, all of you, for your reviews... you have no idea of the boost it gives me to hear from you.
CQ
Chapter Ten: Of Dreams and Quidditch
The early hours of the next morning found Harry Potter pacing in front of the fire in the Common Room. Another dream. The same dream, really, but different every time, in the same way that having the same conversation with someone time and time again was the same... yet different.
"Harry?"
"Gin, what are you doing up?" Harry turned to see Ginny step down the last step from the staircase to the girl's dormitories.
"I heard... I woke up and I felt that you needed me. Then I heard you down here."
"How did you know it was me?"
"I just did. What's wrong?"
"I'm not really sure. Another dream."
"She comes to me, too, you know."
Harry turned to look at her, his eyes stunned.
"Not nearly as often as she comes to you," Ginny admitted softly. "Generally when we've been apart for a few days... distracted. She comes in my dreams and tells me to come to you. She did that tonight."
Harry was silent, assimilating this.
"Does she frighten you?" he asked quietly.
"Your mum?" Ginny said, surprised. "Why would she frighten me?"
Harry shrugged. He couldn't bear the thought of Ginny being frightened.
"No, Harry, she doesn't frighten me. I feel.. different. Peaceful. Content."
Harry sighed. "Me too. But I don't know why. I shouldn't... I mean... Hermione hasn't figured out anything yet, and... and she... my mum..."
"You need to speak to Dumbledore, Harry."
"Dumbledore never speaks to me," he pointed out, turning from her.
"Does that justify not telling him something that might be important to the Order?" she asked softly, coming to him and wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Does that mean that you're going to accept working on this independently? If you don't offer him the information he needs, doesn't that make him right about you being too young, too immature, for involvement with the Order? Isn't it your job to prove him wrong by being bigger about this than he?"
Harry sighed. "I know... I just..."
"I know he's hurt you in past, Harry, but I thought you had agreed to trust each other going forward?"
"We did."
"Then what is the problem?" she asked as she loosened her grip on him enough to allow him to turn in her arms and hold her.
"I'm afraid, Gin."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid..." Harry swallowed. "Afraid that if I... afraid that if Dumbledore gets involved, she won't come back."
"Oh, Harry..." she held him close. "She will... she will. But we have to deal with this."
"I know," he nodded against her bright hair, breathing in the warm strawberry scent of it. "I know."
Harry walked slowly along the corridor towards Professor Dumbledore's office. Ginny was at his side, holding his hand, and he squeezed hers tight. When they reached the gargoyle, which strangely enough opened once again without any bidding at all, Harry turned to her.
"Go to class, Gin."
"I'm coming in with you."
"No," Harry said. "I can do this... but you're going to get in trouble if you miss another class with me. Go on... I'll be fine. I'll find you later and tell you all about it."
"Harry?"
"Please, Ginny?"
Her brown eyes searched his and she nodded. "Okay, but I'm finding you later and you're going to tell me everything he says."
"Of course," he nodded, then leaned down and kissed her lightly. "Go on, or you'll be late."
Watching her go, he waited until she'd turned the corner at the end of the hallway and then turned to the open gargoyle and walked through, taking the staircase up to find the Headmaster in his office.
"Ah, Harry..."
"Professor, I need to speak to you."
"Shouldn't you be in Potions right now?"
"Yes, sir... but this is more important."
"Sit down," Dumbledore nodded at a chair. "What is it, Harry?"
Taking a deep breath, he told the Headmaster everything. It was odd, actually, when he finished. He had half expected to be told off, to be brought to task for not saying anything about finding the spell in the writing box, but Dumbledore was silent.
"Why is my mother coming to me now?" Harry finally asked, frustrated. "Why not all the years I lived in that bloody house with the Dursleys? Why not when I really needed her to... to be there?"
"You've never dreamt about her before?"
"Not... not like this. Just... she's never really spoken... just..."
"Just...?"
"I've dreamed about her... being my Mum... doing... Mum things... but not..." Harry stammered. The dreams he'd had up until now about his parents had never seemed so... valid. So real.
"'Mum things'?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose at that.
"You know... like Mrs Weasley," Harry said. "Hugs and... cooking dinner... and checking my marks... and being... I don't know... a Mum."
"Ah, I see," Dumbledore nodded, tenting his long fingers in front of his face.
"But this..." Harry began, stopping when he realized he couldn't really explain it.
"Is different," Dumbledore said softly.
"Yes."
"But it is Lily?"
"Of course it's my Mum. I know what she looked like."
"She doesn't strike you as... different... in any way?"
"I... well..." Harry thought back, trying to picture her. "She's older, but I just assumed that wherever she is... she's aged, I guess."
"How much older?" Dumbledore asked.
"I don't know... like Remus... older."
"Curious," Dumbledore muttered. "Very well, Harry... I think we can safely assume that nothing... dangerous... is happening at the moment..."
"Professor?"
"I think, Harry, that you are right. She has some message for you, and she's trying to guide you to it. We will have to be patient and allow her to show you."
"But the spell? Hermione?"
"I have every confidence in Miss Granger's ability to find out everything we need to know about the spell," Dumbledore said cryptically.
Harry thought this was rather an odd reaction, but he nodded.
"So, if I dream again?"
"You've been practicing your Occlumency?"
"Every night."
"Without fail?" The aging headmaster looked over the top of his half-moon glasses, his pale blue eyes sharp.
"Yes, sir... I don' t like that kind of dreaming any more than you do."
"Good, Harry. Good. If it happens again, do come to me... but do not worry about it unduly. I am confident that this is not the work of Voldemort. Not this time."
"Thank you, sir..." Harry nodded.
"Now... off to Potions with you... here... give this to Severus..." he handed Harry a bit of parchment he had scribbled a note on. "Mustn't make him feel the need to give you a detention to make up for our little talk, hmm?"
The Quidditch game that Saturday morning was well attended. The crowd could be heard from the change rooms where Harry gave the team a bit of a talk before leading them out. As they approached the pitch, he looked down at Stevens who walked by his side, shaking in his brand new Quidditch robes.
"Scared?"
"A... a little," the younger boy admitted.
"You'll be fine," Harry looked forward, waiting for the doors to open in front of them.
Stevens snorted.
"What, don't believe me?" Harry smiled after glancing down at the doubtful look on the other boys face.
"You're Harry Potter... the best Seeker Gryffindor has ever had. I don't expect you to be nervous, but I'm just Kevin Stevens... I've never played Quidditch in my life, I only learned to fly a month ago... and there are two guys on the other team who are going to try to knock me off my broom."
Harry laughed. "You think I don't get scared? I've had so many bones broken playing this game that I have my own bed in the Hospital Wing. I've fallen off my broom from two hundred feet up while surrounded by Dementors in a snowstorm..."
He glanced down, Stevens stared at him, his mouth hanging open.
"Right... well, it's not normally like that... Quidditch... well, you'll see. Just get that ball through those hoops. Keep your mind on that, and let our Beaters worry about keeping their Beaters off you. Trust your teammates... they're good at this. You do your part, and they'll do theirs."
The doors opened, revealing a bright blue sky and the clear, cold sunshine of an early December morning.
Harry nodded to the rest of the team. "Mount up!"
And they were off.
The game got off to a very slow start. Ravenclaw, as Harry had suspected, were fighting hard for a win, and Ron practically had to stand on his head as Keeper. It took a few minutes for the Gryffindor Chasers to get into their rhythm, but they did, and soon the score was 50-20 for Gryffindor. Kevin Stevens actually scored twice in the first twelve minutes of play, much to the disgust of the Ravenclaw Keeper.
Win Chang, the new Seeker for Ravenclaw, whizzed past Harry, but he was onto her. Her sister Cho had often used the same feinting manouever to try to fool the other team's Seeker into believing she'd seen the Snitch, and follow her to one end of the pitch, where she could turn, leaving him behind. Harry didn't fall for it this time, and as expected, she gave up and turned back.
Harry flew in large circles high over the pitch, watching the game and keeping an eye out for the Snitch. He knew if he caught it too early, it wouldn't make for much of a game, but if he spotted it, it would be wise to keep an eye on it.
He found himself flying over the Forbidden Forest in a great loop, then back towards the pitch. Aunt Daisy's body, or the remains of it, at least, was in there still. Somewhere.
Suddenly, Win flew past him, steeply angled over her broom, and drawing Harry's attention to a golden glint in the distance. It was the Snitch... and she was going to get there before he did unless he...
She had a three second head start on him, but Harry had both a superior broom and four years more flying experience on the younger Seeker. He bent low over his broom and flew as hard and fast as he could go, the wind burning his cheeks as he flew... passing Win with less than a second to spare, his hand already reaching for the Snitch.
Game over.
Landing hard, Harry stalked to the ball box and secured the Snitch in it before angrily stomping from the field.
Damn it! They almost won! Because YOU weren't...
Her body is still in there... somewhere. They never found her. She was eleven years old. They abandoned her to die.
Harry had a sudden image of Ginny in the Chamber and angrily tossed his broom aside and threw off his robes as he reached the changeroom. He was furious with himself for being distracted and even more furious with Dumbledore.
He'd left a child to die. Alone.
Alone.
"What the hell was that all about?" Ron screeched at him as he came storming into the changeroom after Harry.
"Never mind, Ron."
"Harry..."
"I said, leave it, Ron!"
Ron stood back as Harry gathered up his things and passed him, heading out of the changerooms and towards the school. It was probably a good thing he hadn't seen Ginny, because she wouldn't have allowed him to get away with his bad mood, and he was quite enjoying it.
Harry walked around to the front of the school, intent on entering through the main doors and perhaps getting up to the Gryffindor Tower and his dorm before the others returned from the pitch. He really, really felt the need to be alone right now.
But as he entered the vast Entry Hall, he staggered. He had never felt anything like this in his life... even Voldemort...
The vision hit him as he was righting himself... his mother's face danced before him in his minds eye. "Come, Harry... You know the answer. Reach out... and take it. Reach out, Harry... it's right there... you know!"
For a moment, he thought he was going to faint, the force in his mind was so overpowering. He shook his head, leaning against the ballustrade, and took several deep breaths.
And then he realized someone was calling out to him.
"Harry! Harry!"
He looked up to see Hermione running down the stairs towards him, an excited look on her face and several books in her arms.
"Hermione?"
"Harry! The spell! I know what it's about!"
"What?"
"I've been looking for something similar in the library to compare it to..."
"Hermione!" he was not patient enough to wade through a long, convoluted explanation of her research process right now.
"It's an animate spell, Harry," she said softly, her eyes shining with pride of her accomplishment.
"A what?"
"An animate spell... to animate you're parent's wedding portrait!"
