CHAPTER 12
(A/N: Muahahahahaha, I love cliffhangers—well, when I write them anyway. Thank you my dear readers for your reviews, I enjoy the suspense, do you? –A.S.Leif)
Harry screamed, his scar burned almost as bad as if Voldemort had possessed him. He occluded his mind, but the pain kept coming. Someone shook him roughly by the shoulders, putting a hand over his mouth. He kept screaming. "Potter, wake up!" It wasn't Remus. They continued to shake. "Wake up Harry!" He tried to open his eyes, but the burning made it impossible. The person stopped shaking and put a hand over his scar, keeping the other over his mouth; they whispered words in a language Harry didn't know.
The pain vanished and Harry jerked up right in his bed to see who was there. The room was empty, not even Madam Pomfrey was there. Something nudged his bed, causing Harry to look down. Splikvin was on the floor, curled up as if something had kicked her in the gut, her teeth were clenched against the pain she refused to show. "Hedwig!" Harry called, she appeared on his shoulder, "Go get Snape, Dumbledore and Remus please, they need to know what happened!" Hedwig dissapeared and Harry dragged Splikvin up onto another bed. It was harder than it should have been, since he wasn't as strong as he used to be.
She was still fighting the pain she'd taken from Harry when Hedwig flew back in with the three professors following behind. Snape took one look and his face paled even more, he was the first one over. Dumbledore looked grave, but it was Remus who asked, "What happened?"
"I had a dream, or a vision, I was Voldemort. It stopped and I screamed, my scar was burning like-" he looked for a word, "burning like hell. Someone tried to shake me awake, it didn't work. She put a hand over my scar and said something. The pain went away, then I woke up and found the professor like this."
"Chain magic?" Remus whispered.
Dumbledore nodded, "It would seem so." He approached Splikvin with a glowing hand, but then he stopped. "Severus, you might want to do it—she trusts you more than I."
Snape looked at him then nodded and his own hand began to glow. He put it over her forehead and started talking to her quietly in what sounded like Latin. By the curious looks on Dumbledore's and Remus' face, normally speech wasn't involved in whatever it was Snape was doing.
Slowly, the defense professor began to loosen. She uncurled until she was lying straight out; her eyes blinked open. "Hey Sev." Her voice was raspy with the held in screams.
Snape also relaxed. "Fool, you didn't have to use chain magic—of all things."
She grinned at him, "It was the first thing that came to mind." Snape rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, Splikvin cut him off, "I know, 'that doesn't make it the best thing in mind.' " She looked at Harry, "Alright Potter?" He nodded.
"Harry," Remus said quietly, "What was it about?"
Harry's heart twisted, it had been a vision he hoped was true, but also hoped it wasn't; he didn't want Sirius to go through what he had gone through just a few days ago. "I don't think I can say," Harry said, voice tight, "It's something you'd have to see."
"A penesive then?" Remus suggested.
Harry nodded. "That'll do." They left Snape with his twin and went to Dumbledore's office. There the headmaster got out an empty penesive and offered it to Harry. Placing the tip of his wand to his temple, Harry recalled the memory. It came away as a silvery thread and Harry put it in the penesive. He nodded and the two older wizards entered the memory.
Harry watched as Remus' face grew sad, pained, and somewhat angry—most likely because of Bellatrix. Harry didn't look at Dumbledore, he was thinking about what this could mean. It could be a trap, to draw Harry to Voldemort again. Or it could be true, and Sirius could be alive. But how would Remus take it? Sure, Moony would be glad to have his friend back, but how would Remus take Sirius being Harry's godfather again? Harry wasn't sure how to take that either. He and Remus had grown closer, would either of them be jealous of the other? What if they never found out whether his dream was true or not…
They finally exited Harry's memory. Remus sat down heavily in a chair. "Padfoot…" he whispered, then looked at Dumbledore, "Is it real?"
"I cannot say." The headmaster answered. "I will ask Severus if there has been a meeting lately, and Arthur if the ministry building's defenses have been breached. Harry, I suggest that you return to the hospital wing, or Poppy will be after my head."
"Alright Sir," Harry answered, and left.
Harry didn't tell any of his friends about the vision, and no one had asked him about last night because Splikvin had insisted on leaving the hosptial wing before the students woke. Harry smiled slightly as he remembered the argument between the matron and the professor.
"I'm fine Poppy!" Selena had growled, getting out of the bed.
"At least let me do a check up," the nurse sighed.
"No thank you. You did one last night, this morning, and another just five minutes ago. Leave me be!"
Madam Pomfrey then put something in Splikvin's hand. "Then eat that." She'd rolled her eyes and popped it into her mouth. "And don't even try spitting it out!" Splikvin glared, then swallowed, grimaced and coughed.
"Something the matter?" she asked sourly when she'd noticed Harry watching her.
Harry shook his head. "What was that? Medicine?"
"No, it was chocolate." Her scowl deepened and she coughed again. "I hate the rubbish." Harry stared at her, barely keeping in his laughter.
Of course, once that had ended, Harry'd returned to thinking about Sirius and the vision. Once Harry was freed from the hospital wing, he went to the Great Hall for breakfast. A sudden hush came over the people who were in there, but they began to talk again as Harry sat down. The Gryffindors only asked if he felt alright, or told him good luck; none of them asked about his capture. He looked at Alex, who sat next to him, and she winked. Harry smiled, he was glad that she had intervened.
Classes were normal, but Harry noticed that the teachers occasionally looked at him with concern whenever he took a deep breath or steadied himself; all of the teachers except Snape and Splikvin, naturally. He found the other professors' glances annoying, but kept that to himself. That night in the common room, Ron asked him if he felt okay. "Cheer up Harry, it's not like the world's on your back." Ginny said in response to Harry's quiet reply of 'I'm fine.' Harry cringed inwardly, the wizarding world was on his back, in a sense. He was the only one who could beat Voldemort, but they didn't know about the prophecy, and Harry wasn't going to worry them by telling them about it.
The next morning, a hawk dropped off a letter, then flew away. Harry read it: My office, after dinner. S.S.
What? Harry thought, then remembered: elemental lessons. He'd contacted the elements twice since his return, to tell them about his capture. So far they had been the only ones Harry had told exactly what had happened to him. He'd told them because they weren't human. They wouldn't look at him with sadness and pity every day, they wouldn't try to keep him sheltered from the world. He was one of their own, they were understanding; and instead of pitying him they were proud of him, proud that he had defied Voldemort like he had, and that Harry could live with.
DADA that day was interesing. It was the first lesson on a magical creature Harry'd gotten since Remus' year as professor. As they filed in to the classroom, they found a large pond with a few boulders and a small waterfall in the center, the desks were gone. "Take a seat," Splikvin told them, and cusions appeared on the floor. "Now, the creatures I've brought can be highly dangerous; but as long as I am concious, they won't harm you wizards."
Only wizards? Harry thought, Splikvin continued.
"I won't have my hands free, so you will take your own notes while I speak." They got out their writing supplies while Splikvin went into her office. A few moments later, she came back out playing a small harp. Following behind her were three, blue-silver women. They seemed almost like ghosts, by the way they floated over the ground instead of walking, and their semi-transparency. Their eyes had no pupils, and were a glowing, cerulean blue. They went right over to the pond; one swam, another sat gracefully on a rock and the third lay near the waterfall. Splikvin continued to paly and the three women began to sing a haunting but beautiful song. Harry was entranced, as were the other boys in the class; he felt a lot like he had when the Veela showed up at the quidditch world cup. Remembering how vicious the Veela had truly been, Harry was now wary of the three beautiful creatures.
"Who can tell me what these are?" Splikvin asked quietly. Her voice was clear against the charming song of the women and her harp. "Yes Hermione?"
"They're Sirens, Professor." She answered.
"Correct. Now, as you can no doubt see, Sirens affect men alone." She smirked as some of the teenage wizards kept staring at the Sirens, mouths open. "They sing to draw muggles and wizards to them. When they are in reach, the Sirens make their move. I'll let you use your imagination, but I will tell you that a Siren's vicitm is never seen again." She looked at the Sirens and sat down on a stool that appeared behind her, still playing. "Unless you are with someone who can play a musical instrument, or are physically bound to something to keep you away, I believe it is safe to say that you are doomed. You see, the music I play disrupts the song of the Sirens. A Siren's song is not really sound, because even a deaf man can hear it. Their song calls to a man's soul, much like a dementor calls to your worst experiences." Several people shuddered.
"Sirens only die after a hundred men fall as their victims, the Sirens have no choice but to call—it's their natural instinct. Most of the time, Sirens are found in lagoons, coves, oceans, and caves where a water source has formed. Often times they are confused with mermaids when seen at a distance. There is a place heavily populated by Sirens, it is off the eastern coast of the United States, it is called the Bermuda Triangle. Not only does their song call to a man's soul, but it wreaks havoc on muggle creations like radar, altitude gauges, compasses, excetera. But only when they sing. Now, I want you to sketch one of the Sirens, if you can—it is not a test of artwork. That, along with your notes and a foot-long essay on these creatures, is your homework, due Thursday. You may begin now."
Since it was nearing December, Flitwick decided to teach them about making decorations. It was quite fun, in Harry's opinion, since it was one of the few things Helga hadn't gone over. The students amused themselves by decorating either miniature christmas trees, or wreaths—this would be their project until winter break, which was next week.
Potions was based on a Hangover remedy, which Harry thought was quite funny, seeing as how they were only sixteen and weren't allowed to drink. They worked on banishing things in Transfiguration and began to learn about dragons in Care of Magical Creatures. There wasn't an actual dragon there, much to the studets relief and to Hagrid's obvious dissapointment. Harry spoke with Hagrid a bit after class, and received a rib-crushing hug when he did so. The other thing Harry did was work on his project of creating a shield spell.
There was going to be another quidditch practice the next day, and Harry couldn't wait to get back in the air. After dinner, he reported to the defense room once more, where Splikvin was waiting for him. She finished grading a paper, then put it away. "I have a question for you, where did you meet the phoenix?"
A bit surprised by the question, Harry told her about how Hagrid had bought him an owl for his eleventh birthday, and the incident in Diagon Alley during the summer; he didn't mention that it was Snape who'd done it.
Once he finished, Splikvin thought for a moment. "Well, if Hedwig had died, there is only one possible reason she came back. Since you do, in fact, have a phoenix form as an animagus, your tears might have somewhat of the same effect that the tears of a regular phoenix have. In addition to that however, your tears alone cannot bring someone back to life; instead they must have activated your link."
"Link to what?" Harry asked.
"Phoenixes burst into flame when they die and are reborn from their ashes. They do this by the courtesy of the fire element. Hedwig returning to life must have been your first outbreak of your elemental abilities. It is not easy to call fire, since it is so…unpredictable."
"So, you think that the element of fire was the reason she was able to come back?"
"Yes, that is my belief." He didn't say anything more, so she continued. "That is what I want you to do today: contact the fire element."
"But there's no fire to listen for." Harry pointed out.
She nodded. "Which is why I have enlisted the help of a friend." She closed her eyes brielfy and opened them as a streak of fire flew through her window. Standing before them was a small person about two feet tall, with flames for hair and skin that rippled in the colors of lava. Its red eyes gazed back at them. "A fire sprite?" Harry whispered as he stared, Hagrid hadn't mentioned a fire sprite in the lesson a while back.
"Yes cousin," it answered, then looked at Splikvin. "Has he spoken yet?"
Splikvin nodded, "Yes, but not with your kin, the flame."
"Very well," the sprite looked at Harry again. "Listen for the flame at its heart."
Harry sat down on a chair, closed his eyes and did as the sprite told him. He entered the empty space in his mind, drifting as he listend to the flames that the fire sprite created.
He ended up leaving the defense room two hours later and went straight to bed. Unfortunately, since he didn't practice Occlumency, he had another dream.
A large, black dog snapped at the Death Eaters, snarling whenever once came near. Laughing, they forced the dog into his normal, human shape. They then bombarded him with the Cruciatus Curse; still laughing they forced him into dog shape and repeated the process. With each forced transformation, the prisoner cried out. Sometimes the dog or man was thrown against the wall, or slammed into the ceiling. The one thing that didn't change, was the chilling laughter of Sirius Black's torturers…
Harry jolted into wakefulness, gasping quetly as sweat ran down his face and back. He kept his eyes open, desperately wanting to know if what he saw was true.
To anyone who knew him, it was clear that Harry hadn't been sleeping well. Every night he had dreams of Sirius—of his death, and the two visions. Harry knew they were dreams because, unlike the original visions, he was able to move in the dreams, but that did nothing to ease his mind.
After the fourth day, he was finally confronted by Remus, who was extremely concerned before and after Harry explained. "Hold out until the end of the week Tallon." He told him, "We'll do something then."
"Alright Moony," Harry glanced out Remus' office window and saw the snow drifting down. "I can't believe it's just now December…it seems like it's been longer."
Remus nodded, giving Harry a one-arm squeeze around the shoulders. "It's been a busy year so far, I don't blame you."
That evening, Harry began to make plans for the winter holidays. He'd decided he wanted to spend Christmas outside of Hogwarts so he didn't put his name on the list of those remaining for the break like he normally did. Harry knew he wanted to celebrate Christmas at The Hideaway, and he wanted the Weasleys, the Grangers, Alex, and Remus there with him. He took Ron and Hermione aside when they entered the common room together. "Are you guys dong anything special for Christmas?" he asked.
They both shook their heads. "Mum wants me home for the holidays though," Ron said, ears reddening somewhat.
"Same with my parents," Hermione answered.
Harry smiled slightly, "Well, I was thinking that maybe you and your families would like to spend Christmas Day with me, at my home."
Their jaws dropped.
"You serious, mate?" Ron whispered.
Harry nodded. "One hundred percent."
"That would be wonderful Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, struggling to keep her voice down.
His smile widened. "I'm glad you like the idea. When you go home, tell your parents—but don't mention anything while you're at school. Don't ask why now, I have my reasons, and I'll tell you them later." His friends nodded.
As his two friends began their charms work, Harry again began to plot his winter break, and how to keep Dumbledore out of it.
Coming Up:
The Results of the Vision
To the Hideaway once more
Friendship can be a powerful thing
Then:
Christmas at The Hideaway
Return to Hogwarts: ahead of schedule…
