Silver Lining
Nightmares and Revelations
Nights, for Harry, were becoming a veritable nightmare.
Along with the now frequent nightmares of Voldemort, and the accompanying pain in his scar, Harry's sleeping hours were interspersed with vivid recollections of the crash.
Well, to be quite honest, not only the crash.
Malfoy, lying as if dead on the Quidditch pitch ground.
The terrible, shattered look of his legs when he had fallen.
The barely visible rise and fall of his chest, nearly leading him to think that he had somehow killed Draco Malfoy.
"He could be paralysed."
"You paralysed Draco Malfoy?"
Snape's baleful, glaring eyes.
Ron and Hermione's disbelief.
Malfoy, unmoving on a stretcher.
"He could be paralysed."
Malfoy falling through the air, only to vanish in a flash of green.
Harry awoke with a start, a high, cruel laugh and a green flash echoing through his mind. His breathing was quick and ragged, and he realised distractedly that the bedsheets had somehow managed to entwine themselves around his neck.
"Harry, are you all right?" Ron's sleepy voice came from outside his curtained bed. Harry drew a few deep breaths to calm himself.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"No, Harry, you're not fine." Hermione said, looking worried, "You've hardly slept since the match."
"It's that obvious?" Harry said incredulously. Hermione raised an eyebrow. He looked at his reflection in the silver milk jug, and pinched the bags beneath his eyes.
"Yes, Harry, it is that obvious." Hermione sighed, and reached for her book bag. She withdrew a large and leather-bound book on Astronomy and began to read.
"Harry, mate, you aren't dreaming about the match and Malfoy, are you?" Ron asked, a concerned look spreading across his usually grinning features. "You do know it wasn't your fault, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so…but I could have done something." Harry said quietly, not particularly wanting the rest of the Gryffindors to hear. Ron shook his head.
"I doubt it. There's no way you could have avoided a collision." Hermione said from behind her book.
"She's right, Harry. He blocked you too fast." Ron said, trying to alleviate the guilt that he knew was burdening his best friend.
"It's not going to help anything if you mope around all day." Hermione said sharply, giving Harry a disapproving look. "Eat."
"Listen, mate. Today's the first Hogsmeade weekend. You need to relax." Ron said, "And I've run out of Dungbombs."
"Ron! I would say Harry's more important than Dungbombs!" Hermione rebuked her friend. Ron's ears turned red.
"Er…yeah. Sorry 'bout that." He grinned sheepishly.
"Yeah, Hogsmeade sounds good to me." Harry said wanly.
Harry felt a smile returning to his face. After the fiasco of the past two days, nothing made him happier than being with his friends again. He began to eat enthusiastically, noticing that the plates of breakfast food had been filled, and it was only when he looked up to refill his plate with bacon that he noticed Neville limping into the Great Hall.
The clumsy, mousy-haired boy made a beeline for Harry, Ron and Hermione, the look on his face telling Harry exactly what he was about to say.
"Harry, I heard Madam Pomfrey talking to S-Snape." He said in an undertone, stuttering slightly as he uttered the name of his least favourite teacher, "She said that Malfoy's definitely paralysed."
"Yeah, Ron and Hermione told me." Harry said wearily, "Thanks anyway."
"No, Harry! Listen!" Neville said urgently, "He's going to wake up tomorrow, she thinks. Then she can run the tests on him." Ron and Hermione were both listening to Neville now. "But Snape asked her not to."
"What? Why?" Hermione gasped.
"That's what I thought." Neville said, sliding into a seat and wincing as his elbow came into contact with the hard wood.
"Well?" Harry asked impatiently.
"They're referring him to St Mungo's."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. "But…surely Madam Pomfrey could fix it? I mean, she's a trained Mediwitch…" He said desperately. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and suddenly wondered why he cared.
"I don't know, Harry." Neville said, his chubby face twisted into a frown, "But apparently Snape sent a letter to Malfoy's mum and she asked him to send Malfoy to St Mungo's."
Harry's head hit the table with a dull thud, and he glared sideways at the jug of pumpkin juice. It was lifted out of the way as Ron's face appeared at his level, a worried look on the friendly redhead's face.
"Harry, why d'you even care?" Ron asked, his brown eyes sincere and obviously concerned.
"It's no secret that you and Malfoy aren't the best of friends." Hermione said from his other side. "You'd do better just to forget about it."
To Harry, it sounded dangerously like they had been rehearsing. In retrospect, considering that he had come down to the Great Hall a lot later than them, they probably had.
"Yes, but it's my fault." He protested weakly, knowing that his only argument as to his concern about Malfoy was a pathetic one.
"How many times do we have to tell you?" Hermione sighed in agitation. Harry could almost see her rolling her eyes from behind her Astronomy book.
"Look, Harry, just forget about Malfoy." Ron said in desperation.
Harry slowly brought his head back up to normal level, his face despondent and the hollows beneath his eyes ever more prominent.
"I wish I could talk to Sirius." He said quietly, his green eyes misting over for a moment.
"Hedwig, I need you to take this to Lupin. OK?" Harry said quietly, affixing the envelope to his owl's leg. Hedwig hooted her consent, nipping Harry's ear affectionately, and took off into the greyish morning sky.
Harry sighed. He had a free day, but he really didn't feel like going down to Hogsmeade at all, and there was no way he'd be able to persuade Ron that whatever excuse he could cultivate in the return to Gryffindor Tower was true. Ron could see through him like a glass window.
He thought of his letter to Remus. Not only had he spilled his feelings about the whole Malfoy affair, but Harry had been able to unload some of the stress about his prophesied destiny into the letter. He felt a little guilty, burdening Remus with his worries when he knew that the kindly werewolf had enough of his own, but apart from Dumbledore, he was the only adult who would listen. Harry really didn't feel like talking to Dumbledore about this particular problem, as he knew that the venerable old wizard had more than enough trouble to deal with at the moment. He had been away from Hogwarts for a good while, leaving it in the care of McGonagall. Harry and his friends had heard rumours of Order business.
Harry thought back to the news he had received a week ago both from Remus and Hermione's subscription to the Daily Prophet. A family of Muggles in the north of England had been killed in their beds, and the Dark Mark had been seen over the house. Harry knew that this was a terrible reminder from Voldemort to the world at large that he was back, and he was there to stay.
At least, until Harry could kill him.
This was what Harry was most worried about, even more than the Malfoy affair. He simply did not think that he was strong enough to face the Dark Wizard alone.
Harry shook his head stubbornly as he exited the Owlery and headed back to Gryffindor Tower to meet Ron and Hermione. He would deal with that problem when he came to it, and not before.
Harry was quite startled when he saw the portrait of the Fat Lady in front of him. He had been thinking, yes, but apparently he had whiled away the good five minutes it had taken to get from the Owlery to Gryffindor Tower with his morbid, and frankly rather disturbing thoughts.
"Hello dear. Recovered well, I see?" The Fat Lady said in a kind voice, "Password?"
"Hector the Horrible." Harry said dully.
"In you go, dear!" The Fat Lady trilled as she swung upwards, and Harry ducked inside.
"There you are, mate!" Ron grinned, and Hermione smiled at him.
"Ready to go?" She asked, "Oh, by the way, this came for you this morning. The owls came just after you left to send a letter to Lupin."
She handed him a letter with familiar neat handwriting on it.
"It's from Lupin. Why would he be writing to me?" Harry thought out loud, tearing open the envelope and unfolding the letter within. His heart leapt into his throat at the simple message that Lupin had written.
'Dear Harry,
Reforming. You, Ron and Hermione wanted for initiation as soon as possible.
He's back.
Best wishes,
Remus Lupin.'
Harry's face was evidently thunderstruck, as both Ron and Hermione lunged for the letter. They managed to get it without ripping it apart, and read it with grim faces.
"Initiation?" Ron asked softly, his face troubled.
"To the Order." Harry replied quietly, but his mind was not on that.
"Who's back?" Hermione mused, mystified.
"Sirius. It's got to be him. It can't be anyone else." Harry said, his voice roughened with emotion.
"But…but how?" Hermione gasped, she and Ron equally as thunderstruck as Harry.
"I don't know." Harry said calmly.
He felt his legs weaken, and he collapsed onto a conveniently placed armchair, his hands trembling.
"Wait…" Ron said, wrinkling his nose, "Dumbledore's been away…and Sirius is back…That must have been what he was doing!"
Hermione suddenly gasped in recognition. "I've got it! Ron, you're right! You're absolutely right!" She hugged him in glee, and dashed up the enchanted staircase to her dormitory.
"Look here." She commanded, slamming a book in front of Harry and Ron's noses. It was a library book, and she was showing them the list of borrowers in the front cover of the book. Her name was written last. Above it was APWB Dumbledore.
"I don't see how this makes me right, Hermione." Ron said, mystified.
"Look at the cover." Hermione said impatiently.
"Reincarnation and Resurrection : A Beginner's Guide? May I ask why you were reading this, Hermione?" Harry enquired, "It's all starting to fall into place, anyhow."
"It's a good book." Hermione said defensively, "Anyway, Dumbledore must have used this book to help get Sirius back from…wherever that veil led to."
Harry nodded, his face hardening. He had no wish to discuss the events of the previous year.
There was suddenly a great noise outside the common room entrance, and after a minute, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas burst in. Their faces were flushed from running, and they were both breathing heavily.
"Harry, I wouldn't go to Hogsmeade if I were you!" Dean gasped, wheezing horribly.
"Why not?" Harry asked, almost glad for an excuse not to go.
Seamus drew in a great breath and began speaking very fast, his Irish accent curling around the words.
"Well, we were just on our way when a load of Slytherins ambushed us, they were threatening us with all sorts of horrible things if we told you that they were waiting for you, and then we asked them why the hell we shouldn't tell you, and then they tried to curse us but I think Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillen caught them, and you know they were in the DA and…" Here, Seamus broke off his speech, gasping for breath.
"To cut a long story short, the Slytherins are out to get you." Dean said, collapsing into an armchair next to Harry.
Harry had stopped listening when Seamus had mentioned the DA. Ron and Hermione were looking very annoyed at the Slytherins attempt to wreak their revenge on Harry, but Harry didn't seem to have noticed.
"That's it." He said calmly and quietly. "That's what we'll do to help Dumbledore."
"What?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison.
"We'll reform the DA." Harry said quietly. "Seeing as how we haven't got a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher…"
Dumbledore hadn't managed to find a replacement for Umbridge, and Cornelius Fudge had been too intimidated to try and force another on Hogwarts.
"Brilliant idea, Harry!" Ron said, grinning.
Harry grinned back, just as broadly. He had been thinking about the Malfoy issue, and had decided he needed a distraction from the disastrous events and the guilt that even now plagued him.
The DA would provide the perfect distraction.
A/N – Sorry about the long wait. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, very cuddly they are! Draco in the next chapter, promise, as well as some slashy implications. Terribly sorry I couldn't put them in earlier, but needed a bit of filler before then. Tata!
