I do not own Harry Potter, that inestimable honor belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 31: Love and Memory
Harry looked out the window in some surprise, a dull sort of surprise that did little more than slightly widen his eyes and cause his mouth to tighten. The time had passed so quickly and silently, and he could hardly believe that it was nearly the end of October already. But the sight of the evening outside, the lightly dusting snow and the colorful leaves that either clung tenaciously to the baring branches, or already lay, a frosted carpet, proved the indisputable fact that winter was already creeping up on them.
He supposed that it was because he had been so busy that the time escaped him. Between animagus classes, in which they had finalized their intentions for the animals they were becoming and were giving them intensive study, knowing them inside and out, Quidditch, they had narrowly, very narrowly won their first match against Slytherin and hence had almost doubled their practices, Occlumency, in which he was making considerable progress according to Texi and was reaching mediocrity according to Snape, and the DA, he had barely enough time to do his studying and fall into bed each night.
The DA was the major time-killer. Since he had been given over complete control by professor Lanya, who decided that the stealth aspect of the club would be keeping its activities secret from even her, he had to make sure to plan the meetings carefully and covertly. There had originally been a large turnout to the first meeting, but after subsequent sessions, the ones not entirely serious about it had been weeded out, those remaining being about the same number as had been involved the year before. And they had one Slytherin, one that he could stand, thankfully, the dark-haired Gradly Mason, with his ever present notebook in which he was always taking notes.
Hermione had originally been concerned about this tendency of his, and gingerly they had come to an agreement and with a mutual effort had placed a charm upon it so that only signed members of the club could actually read the contents. His habit had even proved useful once or twice, and he had officially become the time-keeper of the club. After some initial suspicion on the parts of the members of the other three houses, they had accepted him into their fold, fairly willingly, thanks to, mostly, something the young man had said on their first official meeting.
They had partnered up, and as they had an odd number of people, Gradly had ended up being the odd one out, Harry finally directed him to one of the groups, and the Hufflepuff fourth year named Jonathan, paired with Ginny, had protested. The more experienced members were paired with the new ones. Gradly had smiled, shrugged, and said in a mild voice to Harry, who was looking at the Hufflepuff in annoyance, 'It's alright, Harry, we Slytherins, we grow to get used to it. I suppose it's just the way it is.'
Jonathan had opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking slightly abashed.
Harry had examined Gradly for a long moment, 'It may be the way it is, but I don't think that's the way it should be, at least in this room.' Then he had directed his words to the whole room, 'In here, we are neither Ravenclaw, nor Hufflepuff, nor Slytherin, nor Gryffindor, in here we are... are members of a team, the Defense Association, and we are all one group. In the real world, in... real situations, you have to be able to depend on your, er... compatriots for your very life, whoever they may be, or may have been. If there isn't trust...' He had had to cut himself off at that point, gulping heavily. But his speech seemed to have done the trick, and Ginny and Jonathan had made Gradly welcome into their threesome.
Another thing they had done was to take their cue from the Stepenwolv contingent and give everyone code names. Tainn had told them that there was a reason behind the Tric Brand Nicknames (tm). When given, they became their holder's other identity, one only known within their small group. Nicknames were also used as code names. Very useful.
So Harry had assigned Hermione, who was the vice president, the assignment of thinking up nicknames. The four who had gone to Stepenwolv would keep theirs, certainly, but the others would require theirs. After some agonizing, Hermione had gotten her names laid out for all of them, so a typical message passed between the members, discussing things such as the next meeting would read something like...
'Sunshine,
Bear Claw and Scribbler will await you in the shadow on the stair, will rendezvous with Scar and the Meow, at the echo watch then proceed to meeting point,
Banner'
Decoded, this would mean,
'Susan,
Neville and Gradly will meet you on the third windowless staircase that leads to the fourth floor, then we'll go meet Harry and Hermione in the empty classroom with the window in the door on the fifth floor. They will then lead us to tonight's meeting,
Katie'
Thinking up code names for the locations they would be using became a joint effort for Ron and Harry. Most location names were set, though the name for the Room of Requirement changed for each meeting, and if possible was omitted altogether. So far they had been successful at keeping their movements from the professor, but there was still a great deal of tension. She had said she'd find a way to let them know if their security had been compromised, and it had sounded a little ominous. Harry didn't think he wanted to know how she would do so, so he put forth a great deal of effort to make sure it was not necessary to find out.
Harry shook off his thoughtful reverie and moved away from the window, scattering the small group of first and second years who had pause to look at him curiously, to quickly find themselves other occupations.
It had been yet another long day, and he was extremely tired, ready to drop his books in his room and make his way down to the Great Hall for dinner. He hadn't had many dreams lately, but the ones that had managed to slip into his consciousness had been dark and confused. He was half tempted to stop using his receiver for one night, on the off chance that a dream of Sirius, or even that strange and powerful specter of the old man in the grotto would slip through and perhaps give him some additional information.
From what they had told him, all he knew was that there was a task ahead of him, another one. He could only hope that one would actually not put his very life on the line. He wasn't hoping too hard.
A woman and a book. That was another clue, a vague one, though he had begun to get suspicions about the dark tome. Hermione, perhaps, shared his unease about the book, which he believed was the Book of Karsis, and had begun combing the library, looking for references to it. She hadn't found any, and perhaps she was hoping that by this she could prove that the book really didn't exist. He knew she meant well in doing so, but he took more stock in what had been imparted to him in his unconscious mind than the lack of information in the library.
If she was going to find something, she would. It seemed she always did.
Lost in his thoughts, Harry found himself walking slowly down the stairs into the common room, barely pausing in the mostly empty room before pushing the portrait open, then turning, and nearly shutting it in Ginny's face.
She stopped it with the flat of her hand and gave him an exasperated look as she climbed out herself. "I called you three times, Harry, but you just walked past me with your head stuck in the clouds."
Harry rubbed at his neck, focusing his scattered thoughts on the small redhead. "Sorry about that, Ginny. I have a...lot on my mind lately."
"You sixth years must have it hard." She commented with a wry smile. "I don't ever remember Fred or George at that point of distraction."
Harry let his hand drop, exhaling wearily.
She was immediately at his side, holding his arm in her small hand, "Are you really all right, Harry?" She asked in concern.
"Yes, I'm okay." He patted her hand, and she released his arm, only to reach down at take his hand in hers. It looked even smaller against his, he thought suddenly, feeling his cheeks color as she led him down the hall, still hand in hand.
"I know you're not, Harry." She said suddenly, halfway to their destination. "You can't hide it from me. Please, tell me what's on your mind."
He stayed in stubborn silence, absorbing himself in the way her fingers twined in his, how her palm felt against his own.
"Harry!" She said loudly, and he jerked his head around, finding himself staring into her chocolate brown eyes. "...please..."
"I can't, Ginny." He finally said, hating the way his voice broke over the words. "I...can't."
He watched as she closed her eyes in resignation, her fingers loosening their grip around his hand. He suddenly tightened his own grip, not wishing to lose the contact, and her eyes opened in surprise again.
"I can't tell you, Ginny." He whispered, bringing his face close to her ear. "If what I know...what is weighing so heavily on me, is known by more than I and Dumbledore... it would put everyone in more danger." He paused, exhaling nervously. "I keep it to myself, because I don't want you, to get hurt by what knowledge you hold. So as much as I would like to tell you, Ginny..." He trailed off, distracted by the way her hair smelled sweet, like the strawberries her color resembled, and he drew back reluctantly, finding her eyes on his once again.
"Okay," She said.
"That's it?" He asked in some surprise.
"Yes," She smiled, "that's it." She firmly grasped his hand again, pulling it behind her so their faces were close together, tilting her head, and pressing her mouth against his.
Harry found it a much different sensation than the caress he had shared with Cho the year before. He found his attention, not skittering madly, his head twirling and unable to focus, but completely enthralled with Ginny as his hand moved to the small of her back, embracing her and drawing her closer. He closed his eyes, knowing that he held Ginny in his arms, knowing...
They broke apart, both a little flushed and breathless. Harry cleared his throat loudly. Then he smiled, albeit a bit bemusedly. "Okay."
Harry found, later, that once his mind had been able to assimilate what had happened between he and Ginny, it told him all the reasons why it wasn't a good idea, while another, different part, was reeling with happiness, and yet another was wondering how Ginny had gone from being Ron's little sister, to just Ginny, a young, very lovely woman. He found himself grinning stupidly at his pudding for no reason whatsoever. And when his friends commented that he looked happier than he had in ages, he could only nod and smile some more.
He was still smiling as he made his way, his invisibility cloak slung over his arm, up to the apartments of the Stepenwolv contingent. As he drew closer to the stair leading there he heard footsteps approaching from one of the adjoining halls and quickly covered himself up with his father's cloak, moving to lay himself flat against the wall to avoid discovery from being trod upon.
Three figures became known as they turned to corner and moved into a circle of firelight cast by one of the torches lining the cool stone hallway. They were strangely quiet, considering who it was he was seeing. Tainn, Texi and Sarven, all three in dark cloaks, moving like the shadows that the torches cast on the walls as they passed through the light.
For a moment, Harry was quite confused. Where on earth were they going? Was he wrong in thinking that it was his night to study with Texi? He thought back... no, it was definitely the right day. He recalled Texi reminding him about it just the day before, when she had been examining a few of the streamers that would soon bloom in overabundance in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast tomorrow.
Without really thinking about it, he turned and quietly padded after them, grateful that he habitually wore his trainers to his Occlumency lessons in case of a late night.
He didn't really feel right, he thought as they made their way through the bowels of the castle, into the entrance hall and out the front doors onto the lawn, following them like he was, as though he suspected them of some wrong-doing. But he also felt that, as they were already half-way across the grounds, that if he revealed himself now, they would know he had been following them surreptitiously.
He briefly considered just turning about and going back. It wasn't his fault that the instructor seemed to have forgotten that her pupil was expecting her to be somewhere other than she was. But, there was also that part of Harry, the part that was full of an insatiable curiosity, telling him that he had come too far to turn back now.
He caved into that voice, knowing even as he did so, that it had led him wrong before and may just be doing so again. When he finished that internal argument and focused once again on the three shadows, he found that they had reached the Whomping Willow.
Harry watched as Sarven rummaged around for a long stick in the frost crusted leaves, and used it to prod the knot that deactivated the flailing branches that whipped way too closely around their heads for comfort.
Harry endured another brief battle with conscience and memory before quickly following them into the dark hole at the base of the tree, leaving the full moon to shine balefully down, setting the crystal carpet aglow.
He hurried down into the dim-smelling dampness, and it was not long before he was confronted by a pair of glowing green eyes looking at him in the darkness.
Harry only backed up two, maybe three steps, while reminding himself that Tainn and Texi did not really become werewolves, and that there was really nothing to worry about. He reminded himself also, that when people became their animal shapes, they retained their human minds except in cases of extreme distress and trauma, in which instinct may be able take over their rational thought. Harry felt his happiness taking back seat to an extreme uneasiness.
"Harry...is that you?" A voice filtered out of the darkness somewhat behind the staring green eyes of the lean wolf blocking the path.
"Sarven..." Harry practically gasped in relief, "Yes, it's me."
"Tainn said he thought he had smelled you..." Sarven said, his form emerging out of the dim blankness of the walls, "But I couldn't really think of a reason why you may have been around, particularly on the grounds, after DARK..."
Harry gulped, his mouth suddenly dry, and he pulled off his invisibility cloak, almost as though he were trying to hide that fact that he had been wearing it. "my...lesson, it was tonight..."
Sarven stepped closed, beside the large wolf that was Tainn, who still stood rather tense in the middle of the path. He lay his hand on Tainn's head briefly. "I see..." He said, his voice vaguely disapproving, his blue eyes catching the light from the open doorway behind him as he turned. "You may as well come in, then."
He walked back to the half open door, Tainn close behind him, and opened the way into the Shrieking Shack.
"You see, Harry," Sarven said as he made himself as comfortable as possible in one of the scarred kitchen chairs, "Tainn feels more comfortable at this time of the month is he is in his wolf form, so we asked Dumbledore about it and he said that we could use this place when we needed it." He then glanced at Texi, who was curled up in a largely intact upholstered armchair, staring blankly off into space.
Harry looked over as well, all the while struggling with the memories that being in this place again afforded him.
"It takes each of the half-bloods differently," He said quietly, "The time of the full moon. Tainn gets jittery and temperamental, not at all like his normal self, and quite unpredictable as well. There would be a chance, should we remain in the castle on nights like this, that he would get it into his head to leave the rooms and wander the castle in his wolf form, and who knows what would happen then."
Harry shuddered, imagining the uproar, if Filch or a student came across a full grown, rather large wolf wandering the halls on a full moon night.
"Indeed." Sarven said diffidently, noting the reaction. "And Texi..." He sighed. "She couldn't have given you your lesson tonight, Harry, even if she had remembered. On the full moon, her abilities of Occlumency and Legillimency are essentially 'turned off' so to speak. She could no more communicate with us than Tainn could right now. Well, that's not entirely true, Tainn could bark, she can't even do that."
Harry had to stop himself from staring at Texi, shifting himself uncomfortably on the rickety stool he had found in one of the other rooms. The thought of being completely cut off from everyone around him filled him with a dull sort of terror, and seeing her, usually so capable and confident, looking like a lost child, made his chest ache.
"Well, Harry." Sarven said quietly. "I suppose we shouldn't let this time go to waste." He looked incredibly reluctant to say whatever he was about to say. "You are making good progress, and skipping a lesson would not be a good idea. As I am the only one capable of doing anything remotely helpful tonight, I will assist you."
"You're an Occlumens?" Harry asked.
"No."
"Legilimens?"
"No."
"Ah..." Was he going to make him guess?
"I will give you my mind." Sarven said, again reluctantly. "You and Texi were working on sifting through your thoughts, I believe?" Harry nodded. "Then use my mind for practice."
"Are...are you sure?"
"Yes." Sarven told him, his face very still, "But Harry, keep in mind that we all have painful memories, and I may have more than my share. Not nearly as many as you, no doubt, but try not to be disturbed by what you find in my mind. Understand that I am leaving myself completely open to you."
"I do understand." Harry gulped, "I...thanks..." He said tentatively.
"To serve a higher purpose, one must sometimes do things they would rather avoid." Was all he said in answer, settling back into his chair and watching Harry, his usually open blue eyes at the moment as unfathomable as Snape's.
The first image came quickly, perhaps because, on nights like this, the event that Harry saw upon emptying his mind and connecting it to Sarven's with an almost audible click, was first and foremost in Sarven's memory.
He was looking into a room, one of the rooms in which Texi had said they had gotten the real work done, seeing Sarven, Texi and a woman he recognized as Texi's mother, Marianne, working over a bubbling cauldron.
"I need another quarter ounce of monkshood," Marianne said, looking over her ingredients, which were neatly lined on a small table next to her.
"There should be some in the main workroom." Texi supplied, her voice sweet, smiling brightly, turning to make her way out of the room.
"I'll get it," Sarven said, his voice and face much younger. He stepped out of the room, passing Harry, intent on his errand. Before he had gone two steps there was a muffled explosion, and a rush of smoke filled the hallway from the room he had just left. Sarven, his expression terrible, turned and ran back, opening the door into a scene out of a nightmare.
Marianne was on the floor, her face ashen gray, her eyes open and staring, Texi was a short distance from her, the rise and fall of her chest infinitesimal.
"Mari! TEXI!!!" Sarven screamed, "Texi, Texi!" He rushed over and gathered her into his arms, recognizing, perhaps, that it was already too late for the woman. "Texi, speak to me! Please, please! Don't leave me, Texi! Texi!" He wept over her, "Please...wake up..."
Harry felt a horrible wrenching sensation, then was in a different room, a warm room filled with sunlight filtering through the light curtains.
There was a wide bed, the linens snowy, nearly as pale as the face of the woman nestled among them. Her black hair was bound neatly at the back of her neck, her eyes sunken within their sockets. She looked as though she had been sick for a long time, and showed no signs of getting better.
"Mom," came a small voice, and Harry saw a young boy, maybe ten years old, standing in the doorway, holding a tray. "Mom, are you awake? I brought some tea for you."
The woman's eyes opened, dark blue, and startlingly alive in her dead pale face. She smiled sweetly, turning her head. "It smells wonderful, sweet, bring it in and we'll share." She laboriously worked her way up into a sitting position, using her pillows as props, thanking her son as he placed the tray on a small table and assisted her. "Such a good boy." She laughed, and Sarven smiled tremulously in return. "Come, sit beside me and we'll watch the night come."
Sarven settled himself down on the bed beside her, a pale boy, but without that sickly pallor, his hair short and neat against his forehead, and handed her a teacup. They sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea and watching the light fade through the curtains.
"Sarven," The suddenness of her speech took both Harry and the boy by surprise. Sarven jumped, and turned.
"Yes, mom?"
"There's a bottle in the bottom drawer of my dresser, get it for me, will you?" Sarven nodded and scrambled down off of the bed, rummaging through the drawer and finding a tiny bottle full of bright red liquid.
"Is this it, mom?"
"Yes, indeed. Bring it here."
Sarven did so, and placed it in the woman's pale hand. She stared at it while he settled again beside her.
"Sweet, I need you to drink this."
"Drink it?"
"Yes, it doesn't taste very good, but the potion is good. You've been feeling a little sick lately, haven't you?" Her eyes were suddenly, terribly sad in her gaunt face, with a small mixture of what Harry thought was pure dark fury, as the young boy nodded. She carefully worked the stopper out and handed the bottle to him, "Be a good boy, Sarven, and drink it all down."
Sarven took the bottle, looking at it dubiously, then looking at his mother, who was smiling in an encouraging manner. He took a sip and made a horrible face.
"That's AWFUL!" He protested, and she laughed. After a minute of working up his will, pinching his rather prominent nose, he managed to drink the whole bottle and put it down on the tray with the teacups. "Yuck! Mom, what was that?"
She sighed, "The antidote."
"A...antidote?" He asked in a small faltering voice.
"To the poison that...that man has been feeding us."
"Mom, what are you saying!?"
"When I found out, it was too late to save myself, but you, darling, I was able to make enough for you." She seemed to shrink within herself. "I'm dying, sweet." She told his with wistful resignation. "But you, he won't have you, you're going to live." She sank back against her pillows.
"Mom, no! Please, you can't leave me! You HAVE to get better."
"I made a provision in my will, you're going to live with some very, very kind people that I met when I first came here, they'll love you almost as much as I do."
"Mom!" He protested, tears beginning to leak down his face.
"You look so much like him, you know...except for your eyes...those are mine, they'll go...on." She said in an almost distant way, and Harry realized she was fulfilling her statement, already drifting away.
"You're...I look like...my father?"
"Yes..." She stared at him, filling her eyes with his face as he leaned over her, his tears wetting the coverlet across her stomach. "Come closer, I want a hug."
He leaned farther over her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as though she intended to keep him there forever that way. His face, which Harry could see over her shoulder, was wide-eyed and disbelieving.
Finally, most reluctantly, she let him go. "Always remember I love you." There was silence, then... "Sweet, I'm feeling a little cold, would you being me another blanket from the linen closet?"
"I...I'll be right back then, don't..." He said, his voice breaking..."I'll be right back."
She lay back, her eyes closing again. When he returned, she was already far away.
"Mom? Mom! Mommy!! Noooo! Please!"
Harry was aware in a distant way that his face was damp, and he lifted an arm to wipe his cheeks.
There was another wrench, and he was standing in front of what he recognized as the home of the Snowfoot's, looking just as dilapidated as when he had been there, many years later.
Sarven was standing beside a younger Tala, his face pale and slightly sullen, clutching a bag to his thin chest.
"Everyone, this is Sarven."
"Welcome!" Tainn said brightly, and his sister echoed him a moment later, smiling the same bright smile he had seen earlier.
Texi moved forward and wrestled his hand away from the death grip it was keeping on his satchel. "I'll show you your room! Didn't we have History together? You'll love it here. I'll show you the fishing hole and the best place to jump over the waterfall!" She ran off, towing the surprised looking boy by his hand. "There's a bear den in the woods, and you'll like the rabbit runs! Oh! We'll have so much fun together, I'm so happy to have you, Sarven!"
Most of the following memories were sweet reminisces of Texi and his time at school, and Texi, and life and Stepenwolv, and most of all Texi.
Harry found himself in awe at the love in which Sarven held her. He had, after all, asked her not to leave him, and she never had.
Harry brought himself out of his trance after what seemed like hours, absorbing his own self back into his mind. He looked across at Sarven, and found him smiling, albeit sadly.
"She took me back there several times, to that time with my mother. And though it's painful, after a time, I could see why. My mother loved me. And she didn't want me to see her die."
Harry gulped, searching for something to say, but everything that came to mind seemed insufficient.
"I think it may be best if you don't go back tonight, Harry. We'll go with you in the morning." Sarven said, standing and moving towards Texi, who was still curled in her chair. He knelt beside her and started stroking her hair. The love between them had never been more evident. Harry wondered if he would ever find something like that in someone.
After a while, he drowsed, absently scratching Tainn's ears when he insinuated himself beneath his hand. And he found himself dreaming, of Ginny at the seaside, walking along the cliffs in a long green dress, her hair whipping about her shoulders like a bright flame, her arms full of flowers, as he walked at her side. Of Ginny wrapped in his arms at the top of the waterfall. Laughing, they jumped.
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Chapter 31: Love and Memory
Harry looked out the window in some surprise, a dull sort of surprise that did little more than slightly widen his eyes and cause his mouth to tighten. The time had passed so quickly and silently, and he could hardly believe that it was nearly the end of October already. But the sight of the evening outside, the lightly dusting snow and the colorful leaves that either clung tenaciously to the baring branches, or already lay, a frosted carpet, proved the indisputable fact that winter was already creeping up on them.
He supposed that it was because he had been so busy that the time escaped him. Between animagus classes, in which they had finalized their intentions for the animals they were becoming and were giving them intensive study, knowing them inside and out, Quidditch, they had narrowly, very narrowly won their first match against Slytherin and hence had almost doubled their practices, Occlumency, in which he was making considerable progress according to Texi and was reaching mediocrity according to Snape, and the DA, he had barely enough time to do his studying and fall into bed each night.
The DA was the major time-killer. Since he had been given over complete control by professor Lanya, who decided that the stealth aspect of the club would be keeping its activities secret from even her, he had to make sure to plan the meetings carefully and covertly. There had originally been a large turnout to the first meeting, but after subsequent sessions, the ones not entirely serious about it had been weeded out, those remaining being about the same number as had been involved the year before. And they had one Slytherin, one that he could stand, thankfully, the dark-haired Gradly Mason, with his ever present notebook in which he was always taking notes.
Hermione had originally been concerned about this tendency of his, and gingerly they had come to an agreement and with a mutual effort had placed a charm upon it so that only signed members of the club could actually read the contents. His habit had even proved useful once or twice, and he had officially become the time-keeper of the club. After some initial suspicion on the parts of the members of the other three houses, they had accepted him into their fold, fairly willingly, thanks to, mostly, something the young man had said on their first official meeting.
They had partnered up, and as they had an odd number of people, Gradly had ended up being the odd one out, Harry finally directed him to one of the groups, and the Hufflepuff fourth year named Jonathan, paired with Ginny, had protested. The more experienced members were paired with the new ones. Gradly had smiled, shrugged, and said in a mild voice to Harry, who was looking at the Hufflepuff in annoyance, 'It's alright, Harry, we Slytherins, we grow to get used to it. I suppose it's just the way it is.'
Jonathan had opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking slightly abashed.
Harry had examined Gradly for a long moment, 'It may be the way it is, but I don't think that's the way it should be, at least in this room.' Then he had directed his words to the whole room, 'In here, we are neither Ravenclaw, nor Hufflepuff, nor Slytherin, nor Gryffindor, in here we are... are members of a team, the Defense Association, and we are all one group. In the real world, in... real situations, you have to be able to depend on your, er... compatriots for your very life, whoever they may be, or may have been. If there isn't trust...' He had had to cut himself off at that point, gulping heavily. But his speech seemed to have done the trick, and Ginny and Jonathan had made Gradly welcome into their threesome.
Another thing they had done was to take their cue from the Stepenwolv contingent and give everyone code names. Tainn had told them that there was a reason behind the Tric Brand Nicknames (tm). When given, they became their holder's other identity, one only known within their small group. Nicknames were also used as code names. Very useful.
So Harry had assigned Hermione, who was the vice president, the assignment of thinking up nicknames. The four who had gone to Stepenwolv would keep theirs, certainly, but the others would require theirs. After some agonizing, Hermione had gotten her names laid out for all of them, so a typical message passed between the members, discussing things such as the next meeting would read something like...
'Sunshine,
Bear Claw and Scribbler will await you in the shadow on the stair, will rendezvous with Scar and the Meow, at the echo watch then proceed to meeting point,
Banner'
Decoded, this would mean,
'Susan,
Neville and Gradly will meet you on the third windowless staircase that leads to the fourth floor, then we'll go meet Harry and Hermione in the empty classroom with the window in the door on the fifth floor. They will then lead us to tonight's meeting,
Katie'
Thinking up code names for the locations they would be using became a joint effort for Ron and Harry. Most location names were set, though the name for the Room of Requirement changed for each meeting, and if possible was omitted altogether. So far they had been successful at keeping their movements from the professor, but there was still a great deal of tension. She had said she'd find a way to let them know if their security had been compromised, and it had sounded a little ominous. Harry didn't think he wanted to know how she would do so, so he put forth a great deal of effort to make sure it was not necessary to find out.
Harry shook off his thoughtful reverie and moved away from the window, scattering the small group of first and second years who had pause to look at him curiously, to quickly find themselves other occupations.
It had been yet another long day, and he was extremely tired, ready to drop his books in his room and make his way down to the Great Hall for dinner. He hadn't had many dreams lately, but the ones that had managed to slip into his consciousness had been dark and confused. He was half tempted to stop using his receiver for one night, on the off chance that a dream of Sirius, or even that strange and powerful specter of the old man in the grotto would slip through and perhaps give him some additional information.
From what they had told him, all he knew was that there was a task ahead of him, another one. He could only hope that one would actually not put his very life on the line. He wasn't hoping too hard.
A woman and a book. That was another clue, a vague one, though he had begun to get suspicions about the dark tome. Hermione, perhaps, shared his unease about the book, which he believed was the Book of Karsis, and had begun combing the library, looking for references to it. She hadn't found any, and perhaps she was hoping that by this she could prove that the book really didn't exist. He knew she meant well in doing so, but he took more stock in what had been imparted to him in his unconscious mind than the lack of information in the library.
If she was going to find something, she would. It seemed she always did.
Lost in his thoughts, Harry found himself walking slowly down the stairs into the common room, barely pausing in the mostly empty room before pushing the portrait open, then turning, and nearly shutting it in Ginny's face.
She stopped it with the flat of her hand and gave him an exasperated look as she climbed out herself. "I called you three times, Harry, but you just walked past me with your head stuck in the clouds."
Harry rubbed at his neck, focusing his scattered thoughts on the small redhead. "Sorry about that, Ginny. I have a...lot on my mind lately."
"You sixth years must have it hard." She commented with a wry smile. "I don't ever remember Fred or George at that point of distraction."
Harry let his hand drop, exhaling wearily.
She was immediately at his side, holding his arm in her small hand, "Are you really all right, Harry?" She asked in concern.
"Yes, I'm okay." He patted her hand, and she released his arm, only to reach down at take his hand in hers. It looked even smaller against his, he thought suddenly, feeling his cheeks color as she led him down the hall, still hand in hand.
"I know you're not, Harry." She said suddenly, halfway to their destination. "You can't hide it from me. Please, tell me what's on your mind."
He stayed in stubborn silence, absorbing himself in the way her fingers twined in his, how her palm felt against his own.
"Harry!" She said loudly, and he jerked his head around, finding himself staring into her chocolate brown eyes. "...please..."
"I can't, Ginny." He finally said, hating the way his voice broke over the words. "I...can't."
He watched as she closed her eyes in resignation, her fingers loosening their grip around his hand. He suddenly tightened his own grip, not wishing to lose the contact, and her eyes opened in surprise again.
"I can't tell you, Ginny." He whispered, bringing his face close to her ear. "If what I know...what is weighing so heavily on me, is known by more than I and Dumbledore... it would put everyone in more danger." He paused, exhaling nervously. "I keep it to myself, because I don't want you, to get hurt by what knowledge you hold. So as much as I would like to tell you, Ginny..." He trailed off, distracted by the way her hair smelled sweet, like the strawberries her color resembled, and he drew back reluctantly, finding her eyes on his once again.
"Okay," She said.
"That's it?" He asked in some surprise.
"Yes," She smiled, "that's it." She firmly grasped his hand again, pulling it behind her so their faces were close together, tilting her head, and pressing her mouth against his.
Harry found it a much different sensation than the caress he had shared with Cho the year before. He found his attention, not skittering madly, his head twirling and unable to focus, but completely enthralled with Ginny as his hand moved to the small of her back, embracing her and drawing her closer. He closed his eyes, knowing that he held Ginny in his arms, knowing...
They broke apart, both a little flushed and breathless. Harry cleared his throat loudly. Then he smiled, albeit a bit bemusedly. "Okay."
Harry found, later, that once his mind had been able to assimilate what had happened between he and Ginny, it told him all the reasons why it wasn't a good idea, while another, different part, was reeling with happiness, and yet another was wondering how Ginny had gone from being Ron's little sister, to just Ginny, a young, very lovely woman. He found himself grinning stupidly at his pudding for no reason whatsoever. And when his friends commented that he looked happier than he had in ages, he could only nod and smile some more.
He was still smiling as he made his way, his invisibility cloak slung over his arm, up to the apartments of the Stepenwolv contingent. As he drew closer to the stair leading there he heard footsteps approaching from one of the adjoining halls and quickly covered himself up with his father's cloak, moving to lay himself flat against the wall to avoid discovery from being trod upon.
Three figures became known as they turned to corner and moved into a circle of firelight cast by one of the torches lining the cool stone hallway. They were strangely quiet, considering who it was he was seeing. Tainn, Texi and Sarven, all three in dark cloaks, moving like the shadows that the torches cast on the walls as they passed through the light.
For a moment, Harry was quite confused. Where on earth were they going? Was he wrong in thinking that it was his night to study with Texi? He thought back... no, it was definitely the right day. He recalled Texi reminding him about it just the day before, when she had been examining a few of the streamers that would soon bloom in overabundance in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast tomorrow.
Without really thinking about it, he turned and quietly padded after them, grateful that he habitually wore his trainers to his Occlumency lessons in case of a late night.
He didn't really feel right, he thought as they made their way through the bowels of the castle, into the entrance hall and out the front doors onto the lawn, following them like he was, as though he suspected them of some wrong-doing. But he also felt that, as they were already half-way across the grounds, that if he revealed himself now, they would know he had been following them surreptitiously.
He briefly considered just turning about and going back. It wasn't his fault that the instructor seemed to have forgotten that her pupil was expecting her to be somewhere other than she was. But, there was also that part of Harry, the part that was full of an insatiable curiosity, telling him that he had come too far to turn back now.
He caved into that voice, knowing even as he did so, that it had led him wrong before and may just be doing so again. When he finished that internal argument and focused once again on the three shadows, he found that they had reached the Whomping Willow.
Harry watched as Sarven rummaged around for a long stick in the frost crusted leaves, and used it to prod the knot that deactivated the flailing branches that whipped way too closely around their heads for comfort.
Harry endured another brief battle with conscience and memory before quickly following them into the dark hole at the base of the tree, leaving the full moon to shine balefully down, setting the crystal carpet aglow.
He hurried down into the dim-smelling dampness, and it was not long before he was confronted by a pair of glowing green eyes looking at him in the darkness.
Harry only backed up two, maybe three steps, while reminding himself that Tainn and Texi did not really become werewolves, and that there was really nothing to worry about. He reminded himself also, that when people became their animal shapes, they retained their human minds except in cases of extreme distress and trauma, in which instinct may be able take over their rational thought. Harry felt his happiness taking back seat to an extreme uneasiness.
"Harry...is that you?" A voice filtered out of the darkness somewhat behind the staring green eyes of the lean wolf blocking the path.
"Sarven..." Harry practically gasped in relief, "Yes, it's me."
"Tainn said he thought he had smelled you..." Sarven said, his form emerging out of the dim blankness of the walls, "But I couldn't really think of a reason why you may have been around, particularly on the grounds, after DARK..."
Harry gulped, his mouth suddenly dry, and he pulled off his invisibility cloak, almost as though he were trying to hide that fact that he had been wearing it. "my...lesson, it was tonight..."
Sarven stepped closed, beside the large wolf that was Tainn, who still stood rather tense in the middle of the path. He lay his hand on Tainn's head briefly. "I see..." He said, his voice vaguely disapproving, his blue eyes catching the light from the open doorway behind him as he turned. "You may as well come in, then."
He walked back to the half open door, Tainn close behind him, and opened the way into the Shrieking Shack.
"You see, Harry," Sarven said as he made himself as comfortable as possible in one of the scarred kitchen chairs, "Tainn feels more comfortable at this time of the month is he is in his wolf form, so we asked Dumbledore about it and he said that we could use this place when we needed it." He then glanced at Texi, who was curled up in a largely intact upholstered armchair, staring blankly off into space.
Harry looked over as well, all the while struggling with the memories that being in this place again afforded him.
"It takes each of the half-bloods differently," He said quietly, "The time of the full moon. Tainn gets jittery and temperamental, not at all like his normal self, and quite unpredictable as well. There would be a chance, should we remain in the castle on nights like this, that he would get it into his head to leave the rooms and wander the castle in his wolf form, and who knows what would happen then."
Harry shuddered, imagining the uproar, if Filch or a student came across a full grown, rather large wolf wandering the halls on a full moon night.
"Indeed." Sarven said diffidently, noting the reaction. "And Texi..." He sighed. "She couldn't have given you your lesson tonight, Harry, even if she had remembered. On the full moon, her abilities of Occlumency and Legillimency are essentially 'turned off' so to speak. She could no more communicate with us than Tainn could right now. Well, that's not entirely true, Tainn could bark, she can't even do that."
Harry had to stop himself from staring at Texi, shifting himself uncomfortably on the rickety stool he had found in one of the other rooms. The thought of being completely cut off from everyone around him filled him with a dull sort of terror, and seeing her, usually so capable and confident, looking like a lost child, made his chest ache.
"Well, Harry." Sarven said quietly. "I suppose we shouldn't let this time go to waste." He looked incredibly reluctant to say whatever he was about to say. "You are making good progress, and skipping a lesson would not be a good idea. As I am the only one capable of doing anything remotely helpful tonight, I will assist you."
"You're an Occlumens?" Harry asked.
"No."
"Legilimens?"
"No."
"Ah..." Was he going to make him guess?
"I will give you my mind." Sarven said, again reluctantly. "You and Texi were working on sifting through your thoughts, I believe?" Harry nodded. "Then use my mind for practice."
"Are...are you sure?"
"Yes." Sarven told him, his face very still, "But Harry, keep in mind that we all have painful memories, and I may have more than my share. Not nearly as many as you, no doubt, but try not to be disturbed by what you find in my mind. Understand that I am leaving myself completely open to you."
"I do understand." Harry gulped, "I...thanks..." He said tentatively.
"To serve a higher purpose, one must sometimes do things they would rather avoid." Was all he said in answer, settling back into his chair and watching Harry, his usually open blue eyes at the moment as unfathomable as Snape's.
The first image came quickly, perhaps because, on nights like this, the event that Harry saw upon emptying his mind and connecting it to Sarven's with an almost audible click, was first and foremost in Sarven's memory.
He was looking into a room, one of the rooms in which Texi had said they had gotten the real work done, seeing Sarven, Texi and a woman he recognized as Texi's mother, Marianne, working over a bubbling cauldron.
"I need another quarter ounce of monkshood," Marianne said, looking over her ingredients, which were neatly lined on a small table next to her.
"There should be some in the main workroom." Texi supplied, her voice sweet, smiling brightly, turning to make her way out of the room.
"I'll get it," Sarven said, his voice and face much younger. He stepped out of the room, passing Harry, intent on his errand. Before he had gone two steps there was a muffled explosion, and a rush of smoke filled the hallway from the room he had just left. Sarven, his expression terrible, turned and ran back, opening the door into a scene out of a nightmare.
Marianne was on the floor, her face ashen gray, her eyes open and staring, Texi was a short distance from her, the rise and fall of her chest infinitesimal.
"Mari! TEXI!!!" Sarven screamed, "Texi, Texi!" He rushed over and gathered her into his arms, recognizing, perhaps, that it was already too late for the woman. "Texi, speak to me! Please, please! Don't leave me, Texi! Texi!" He wept over her, "Please...wake up..."
Harry felt a horrible wrenching sensation, then was in a different room, a warm room filled with sunlight filtering through the light curtains.
There was a wide bed, the linens snowy, nearly as pale as the face of the woman nestled among them. Her black hair was bound neatly at the back of her neck, her eyes sunken within their sockets. She looked as though she had been sick for a long time, and showed no signs of getting better.
"Mom," came a small voice, and Harry saw a young boy, maybe ten years old, standing in the doorway, holding a tray. "Mom, are you awake? I brought some tea for you."
The woman's eyes opened, dark blue, and startlingly alive in her dead pale face. She smiled sweetly, turning her head. "It smells wonderful, sweet, bring it in and we'll share." She laboriously worked her way up into a sitting position, using her pillows as props, thanking her son as he placed the tray on a small table and assisted her. "Such a good boy." She laughed, and Sarven smiled tremulously in return. "Come, sit beside me and we'll watch the night come."
Sarven settled himself down on the bed beside her, a pale boy, but without that sickly pallor, his hair short and neat against his forehead, and handed her a teacup. They sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea and watching the light fade through the curtains.
"Sarven," The suddenness of her speech took both Harry and the boy by surprise. Sarven jumped, and turned.
"Yes, mom?"
"There's a bottle in the bottom drawer of my dresser, get it for me, will you?" Sarven nodded and scrambled down off of the bed, rummaging through the drawer and finding a tiny bottle full of bright red liquid.
"Is this it, mom?"
"Yes, indeed. Bring it here."
Sarven did so, and placed it in the woman's pale hand. She stared at it while he settled again beside her.
"Sweet, I need you to drink this."
"Drink it?"
"Yes, it doesn't taste very good, but the potion is good. You've been feeling a little sick lately, haven't you?" Her eyes were suddenly, terribly sad in her gaunt face, with a small mixture of what Harry thought was pure dark fury, as the young boy nodded. She carefully worked the stopper out and handed the bottle to him, "Be a good boy, Sarven, and drink it all down."
Sarven took the bottle, looking at it dubiously, then looking at his mother, who was smiling in an encouraging manner. He took a sip and made a horrible face.
"That's AWFUL!" He protested, and she laughed. After a minute of working up his will, pinching his rather prominent nose, he managed to drink the whole bottle and put it down on the tray with the teacups. "Yuck! Mom, what was that?"
She sighed, "The antidote."
"A...antidote?" He asked in a small faltering voice.
"To the poison that...that man has been feeding us."
"Mom, what are you saying!?"
"When I found out, it was too late to save myself, but you, darling, I was able to make enough for you." She seemed to shrink within herself. "I'm dying, sweet." She told his with wistful resignation. "But you, he won't have you, you're going to live." She sank back against her pillows.
"Mom, no! Please, you can't leave me! You HAVE to get better."
"I made a provision in my will, you're going to live with some very, very kind people that I met when I first came here, they'll love you almost as much as I do."
"Mom!" He protested, tears beginning to leak down his face.
"You look so much like him, you know...except for your eyes...those are mine, they'll go...on." She said in an almost distant way, and Harry realized she was fulfilling her statement, already drifting away.
"You're...I look like...my father?"
"Yes..." She stared at him, filling her eyes with his face as he leaned over her, his tears wetting the coverlet across her stomach. "Come closer, I want a hug."
He leaned farther over her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as though she intended to keep him there forever that way. His face, which Harry could see over her shoulder, was wide-eyed and disbelieving.
Finally, most reluctantly, she let him go. "Always remember I love you." There was silence, then... "Sweet, I'm feeling a little cold, would you being me another blanket from the linen closet?"
"I...I'll be right back then, don't..." He said, his voice breaking..."I'll be right back."
She lay back, her eyes closing again. When he returned, she was already far away.
"Mom? Mom! Mommy!! Noooo! Please!"
Harry was aware in a distant way that his face was damp, and he lifted an arm to wipe his cheeks.
There was another wrench, and he was standing in front of what he recognized as the home of the Snowfoot's, looking just as dilapidated as when he had been there, many years later.
Sarven was standing beside a younger Tala, his face pale and slightly sullen, clutching a bag to his thin chest.
"Everyone, this is Sarven."
"Welcome!" Tainn said brightly, and his sister echoed him a moment later, smiling the same bright smile he had seen earlier.
Texi moved forward and wrestled his hand away from the death grip it was keeping on his satchel. "I'll show you your room! Didn't we have History together? You'll love it here. I'll show you the fishing hole and the best place to jump over the waterfall!" She ran off, towing the surprised looking boy by his hand. "There's a bear den in the woods, and you'll like the rabbit runs! Oh! We'll have so much fun together, I'm so happy to have you, Sarven!"
Most of the following memories were sweet reminisces of Texi and his time at school, and Texi, and life and Stepenwolv, and most of all Texi.
Harry found himself in awe at the love in which Sarven held her. He had, after all, asked her not to leave him, and she never had.
Harry brought himself out of his trance after what seemed like hours, absorbing his own self back into his mind. He looked across at Sarven, and found him smiling, albeit sadly.
"She took me back there several times, to that time with my mother. And though it's painful, after a time, I could see why. My mother loved me. And she didn't want me to see her die."
Harry gulped, searching for something to say, but everything that came to mind seemed insufficient.
"I think it may be best if you don't go back tonight, Harry. We'll go with you in the morning." Sarven said, standing and moving towards Texi, who was still curled in her chair. He knelt beside her and started stroking her hair. The love between them had never been more evident. Harry wondered if he would ever find something like that in someone.
After a while, he drowsed, absently scratching Tainn's ears when he insinuated himself beneath his hand. And he found himself dreaming, of Ginny at the seaside, walking along the cliffs in a long green dress, her hair whipping about her shoulders like a bright flame, her arms full of flowers, as he walked at her side. Of Ginny wrapped in his arms at the top of the waterfall. Laughing, they jumped.
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