Rated R for swearing, violence and suicide (and/or suicide-related issues). If this offends anyone, don't read. Thought I'd add that I own nadda. All characters, names and related indicia are property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely trying to share some of her goodness in a non-illegal way. :)
—x—x—x—
Chapter 18: The Queen of Swords
A monarch butterfly made its way into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry through an open window on the first floor, the white transparent curtains billowing on the cool breeze that sent orange, red, brown and yellow leaves swirling into pillars of colour around the stone hut on the edge of the forest. Shouts and screams were carried in on the wind like snatches of ghostly whispers from the Quidditch pitch across the grounds, and the butterfly let itself drift on the rushing air, relaxing its wings for a second before it was forced to bat them once more.
This butterfly was dying. It was still beautiful in its orange and black colouring, although they were faded and the wings were brittle, the body a little gray. It floated downwards gently to rest on the stone floor, its antennae sweeping its surroundings curiously, moving slightly to walk a little ways before it settled in one place to rest.
"Gryffindor...seventy - thirty..." came a distant call from the outdoors followed by a loud roar of cheering before the wind drowned out the sound. A good deal of leaves blew into the classroom on the gust and scattered haphazardly over the floor. The butterfly crawled nearer to a table to avoid being hit. It was very tired.
The gray cat that crept up behind it went unnoticed by the insect. This cat knew how to sneak up on things, and a mere butterfly was no exception. It paused and prowled around the crinkled leaves, its fur standing on end slightly as the cold air swept over its body.
"Oh, what are you doing?"
Mrs. Norris turned her lamp-like eyes on her master and gave a feeble meow, then coughed up a damp piece of wing followed by a ball of fuzz.
Filch rolled his eyes and sighed. "Butterfly's I don't care about, but the other critters are what I want you lookin' after. Spiders, cockroaches...the like that are runnin' round this place. You hear?"
Mrs. Norris meowed again and licked up the wing, then trotted after Filch as he finished emptying the wastebasket in the classroom.
—x—x—x—
"Five points from Gryffindor for giving Mr. Malfoy the middle finger on the pitch, Potter, even though he was yelling horrible things at you from the crowd, but other than that it was an excellent match!"
"Thanks Professor McGonagall."
"Brilliant, Harry!"
"Thanks, Alicia..."
The sunlight made him squint and he smiled at the Chaser in appreciativeness before trying to make his way over to where Ron was sitting on the grass, clutching his arm tightly. His broomstick lay on the ground beside him, most of its twigs bent in precarious directions.
"I'm so sorry, Ron...I didn't mean to...are you all right?"
Ron looked up painfully into Harry's face and smiled (or grimaced, more like). "Of course I am! We won, didn't we?"
Harry gingerly smiled back, still worried. "You fell pretty hard...Are you really OK? How's your arm? Its not broken, is it?"
"Actually yeah, it is," Ron said happily as Angelina and Professor McGonagall tried to hoist him up off the ground. "But don't worry," he added, seeing the horrified look on Harry's face. "It's nothing. Pomphrey will have it fixed in no time."
"I'm so sorry, Ron! If I had of known - "
"It's OK, Harry, really," Ron called to him, still smiling; as McGonagall was leading him up to the castle. "I'll see you at lunch!"
"Right," Harry said to himself, feeling terrible. He had spotted the Snitch the exact same time that Cho had, and the two of them had raced like mad towards the Gryffindor goal hoops where it hovered in mid-air. At the last second, it veered sharply off to sit above Ron's head, and Harry, his attention fixed only on the shimmering golden ball, had caught it...but had also ploughed straight into the redhead Keeper, sending him flying off his broom to the ground below.
It had been a good match, yes, with Gryffindor winning two-hundred-and-twenty to forty. Ron had done a spectacular job at keeping the Ravenclaw Chasers from scoring, and Dean had had to leave the game early due to a nasty Bludger to the head, but Ginny had done miraculously in his place. Cho, on the other hand, had resigned from the Ravenclaw team right on the spot and had thrown her broom at the Captain, saying that she should never have become Seeker in the first place, and she was too old now anyway.
Spotting Hermione running to catch up with Ron and Professor McGonagall through the throng of people, Harry wove his way out of the crowd (which was very difficult, seeing as almost everyone wanted to stop and talk to him), and broke into a run as well, his Firebolt and Ron's Cleansweep clutched tightly in each hand. He passed Professor Snape who was walking alone back up to the school and tried to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach. Snape gazed at the Seeker indescribably and bent his head to look at the ground until Harry was ahead of him.
"How does it feel, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall was asking Ron.
"Hurts like mad," Ron replied, strained, an exuberant smile on his freckled face. "But really...it's all right..."
"Oh don't be silly, Ron," Hermione said worriedly from beside him. "It looks awful - "
"Hey," Harry said breathlessly as he caught up to them. Hermione smiled at him and relieved him of Ron's broomstick.
"I did so much better during this match!" Ron said excitedly, positively beaming at Harry. "Don't you think? It was brilliant!"
Professor McGonagall gave a small chuckle. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley. I think everyone noticed, even amongst Mr. Malfoy's shouting..."
"Harry shut him up beautifully," Ron laughed. "What was he saying, anyway?" His arm was beginning to turn a nasty shade of purple where the flesh was visible due to the rolled-up sleeve of his Quidditch robe. Professor McGonagall smiled in spite of herself at Ron's comment.
"The usual," Hermione answered darkly, throwing an anxious look over her shoulder as though expecting to see Malfoy walking right behind them. Spying no one but Snape at a distance, she sighed and looked back around again just in time to avoid tripping over a rock. "Calling Harry Scarhead and making fun of...of...making fun of Mrs. Weasley and calling the team rubbish..."
Ron tutted angrily as they came upon the front doors. Professor McGonagall summoned them open and led Ron inside, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Harry fell back with Hermione as the doors closed heavily behind them and the warmth of the Entrance Hall wrapped them in its embrace. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
Hermione looked at Harry, surprised. "Of course I am...why do you ask?"
Harry looked around him to make sure no one was there. "You've just been quieter than usual lately...and the look that comes over your face when you mention Malfoy..."
"Harry," Hermione said as they ascended the staircase to the upper floors. "That look comes over everyone's face when Malfoy is mentioned."
"I guess," the black-haired boy replied, switching his Firebolt to his other hand. "But..."
"I'm fine, really," Hermione quickly reassured him in a singsong voice. "You don't have to be worried, all right?"
Harry smiled grimly and nodded, and Hermione gave his hand a gentle squeeze before stopping and holding out Ron's broom to him.
"Here...I'm sure you'd fancy a shower or something? I can look in on Ron, if you want...you go on."
Harry accepted the Cleansweep and regarded Hermione strangely. "Are you sure you're OK?"
"Yes," the girl said exasperatedly. "I'll go check on Ron and you can meet me there later if you want...I just thought you'd like to clean up a bit before lunch, you look a little sweaty..."
Actually, a shower did sound really good at the moment. "All right, then. Tell Ron I said hello."
"I will," Hermione called as she swiftly strode down the corridor towards the Hospital Wing.
Harry turned around and began the trek up to Gryffindor Tower, somehow not feeling very reassured at all.
—x—x—x—
The Great Hall was decorated for Halloween more spectacularly than Harry had ever seen it before.
The levitating candles had once more been replaced by fiery Jack-O-Lantern's, all with different but very sinister faces carved into them. A storm of screeching bats fluttered around near the ceiling, which was bewitched to look like witches and wizards were flying around the starry night sky on broomsticks. A cackle could be heard from some of them at odd times, which would echo through the hall and send delightful shivers down people's spines. Occasionally, bits of confetti shaped like black cats and cauldrons would shower themselves lightly over the students, and the food was no exception to the holiday. Large cauldrons of sweets had been levitated at each end of the table, and were floating around and around so that everyone could reach in and grab a handful to stuff into their pockets for later.
"Excellent!" Ron said happily as he chose a chicken leg and threw it onto his plate. "It's really good this year!"
The torch on the wall nearest to them erupted into a snarling, ghostly face for a moment before resuming back to its normal flame. Parvati and Lavender gasped in surprise.
"Did you want help with that?" Harry asked Ron, who was trying to pick a steaming corncob out of a dish. His injured arm was still tender and sore from the previous day, and Madame Pomphrey had been able to heal it, but had instructed him to use it as little as possible for the next little while or so.
"Nah, I'm good," Ron answered, grabbing hold of it with both hands. "Bugger, that's hot."
A sudden bell-like noise sounded loudly and everyone looked up at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore had tapped on his glass with a spoon and was standing up, his robes bright orange with black stars patterned across them. Several people cheered and the old wizard held up a hand, smiling. Silence fell immediately.
"I would like to sincerely wish all of you a happy Halloween," Dumbledore announced, his eyes bright. "And I have just received a notice from Mr. Filch that I would like to share with you all, regarding the behaviour of students in the past during this time of year."
The hall waited expectantly, and from high above, a witch's cackle rang down on them all.
"Our caretaker would like no pranks of any sort in the corridors to be played on himself and/or on any of your fellow schoolmates," Dumbledore said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "As well as in the common rooms and dormitories. This would include frightening the first-years and so on, I believe that was popular last year..."
Amidst Ron's laughter, he choked out, "That's what Fred and George used to do..."
"And no being out of your dormitories past nine o'clock," the Headmaster went on, suddenly sounding serious as the first-years at every table regarded each other uneasily. "Just because it is Halloween doesn't mean that you all have permission to disregard the curfew." He cast a slightly humorous look over the Great Hall and his gaze settled on the spot that was usually occupied by the Weasley twins. "I think it would be a nice treat for Mr. Filch if he had a pleasant evening for once, don't you agree?"
Ron snorted and Hermione giggled into her pumpkin juice.
"If anyone has any questions about Mr. Filch's request, I believe he has printed up a notice which is pinned up on his office door next to the banned items list, or you could seek him out yourselves and ask him..."
Several people shuddered.
"Other than that," Dumbledore said joyously, settling back down into his chair. "Tuck in!"
After a good deal of applause (in which someone from the Hufflepuff table yelled, "Smashing robes, Headmaster!"), the Hall resumed its usual chatter, the chink of forks and knives all about them again. Another witch cackled eerily into the room from above.
"Actually, they might have gone a bit overboard," Ron decided irritably as black cat confetti fell softly into his goblet. Harry nodded in agreement as a paper cauldron nestled itself into his mashed potatoes, followed soon by two black cats and one more that was oddly shaped like Neville's Mimbulus mimbletonia plant. He vanished them with a wave of his wand and resumed picking at his food with his fork like he had been doing since he came back for sixth year.
"So! Quidditch!" Ginny said eagerly, chewing on a piece of baked asparagus. "Angelina advised us to start thinking about this now...we need to find new Chasers for next year's team."
"Oh yeah," Ron said around his mouthful of chicken. "Well...we don't really have to be doing that now, particularly, do we?"
Hermione sighed and threw Ron an irritated look. "It'd probably be a good idea if you lot put a notice up or something in the common room, letting people know that the positions are open for next year, don't you think?"
Ron scowled at her and threw his pumpkin juice-soaked confetti into her dinner.
"Give the lot some time to practice," Ginny agreed, giggling as Hermione retaliated and hexed Ron's corncob to hop down the length of the table and throw itself off the end. Everyone laughed and pointed at it as it passed (one of the Creevey brothers snapped a picture), and Mrs. Norris, who had been lurking around for signs of dropped food, picked it up and carried it off out of the Hall with her teeth. "I hope the ones who'll be trying out are good, though..."
"I can do up a few signs tonight," Hermione said, ignoring Ron's indignant look. "Oh...wait, no I can't. Ron and I have a Prefect meeting after dinner..."
"We do?" Ron asked. Hermione grunted in annoyance and resumed eating her dinner in moody silence.
"Let me guess, that's going to take away from the time you could be spending doing Snape's two feet of parchment on Bloodstones, right?" Ron asked her in mock concern.
"Oh shut up," the harassed girl replied sharply. "It's not due until Thursday and I'm almost done it..."
"That assignment was his way of punishing us for that nasty bit of work on Veritaserum, anyway," said Seamus, who had been listening amusedly to their conversation. "We won't be trying it again until next year, I guess."
"Oh yay," Ron grunted.
Harry jabbed at his mashed potatoes, poking patterns of holes into them almost amusedly. He felt a little warm and his scar was beginning to ache a little...it always did during the evening...
"Harry?" Hermione called uncertainly, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Are you all right? You're awfully quiet."
Harry looked up and grinned, then nodded in response. Hermione grinned back and continued eating, then glanced at Ginny with a strange expression in her eyes.
Harry sighed and took to looking around him at the various decorations and displays, not oblivious to all the stares he was receiving but pretending to be so. His dinner lay untouched on his plate and he had no intention of eating it, the smell alone made him queasy. The taste of food also nauseated him these days and he could choke down a piece of toast and maybe some coffee or pumpkin juice if he was lucky, but other than that he ate practically nothing all day. After all, he was so used to living on things like cold soup and Jammy Dodgers at the Dursley house...He sighed and rubbed his eyes, not knowing what emotion to pick out of the raging storm when it came to his deceased family. He didn't know...he was angry that they were the subjects of Voldemort's wrath after all; he wouldn't wish something like that on his worst enemy. Even Draco Malfoy. The thought surprised him. He put his fork down on his plate and sat in silence, brooding. He wished he was happier...he sincerely did...but how the hell could he be?
The fact that it was Halloween did nothing to brighten his spirits. Winning the Quidditch game against Ravenclaw the day before had been amazing like it always was, but the satisfaction was fleeting. Now he was back to normal, with a feeling in his stomach that something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, however, so he stayed silent, his brain thinking about a million different things at once.
He stared glassily at Ginny, not really seeing her, who was engaged in a very serious conversation with Hermione. Once the brown-haired girl looked over at him and smiled faintly before snapping her head back to Ginny, looking a little apprehensive. Harry found that he didn't care. So they were probably talking about him...who wasn't? Thanks to the Daily Prophet (again), he had been the subject of conversation at Hogwarts for weeks now. Everywhere he went he would be followed by dozens of pairs of eyes, all staring, all wondering, all judging. He began to breathe slightly heavier than he had been in the relaxed atmosphere, and his temper was rising. At the moment he wanted to seize his plate and throw it at the floor...or maybe even at Malfoy, who was currently laughing disgustingly about something with Crabbe and Goyle.
Upon further observation, Crabbe looked a little...down. Quiet. Sad. Harry didn't know how to put it. Crabbe's shoulders were slumped and his head was bent, his dark eyes downcast and deep in thought the same way Harry's had been mere moments ago. Malfoy didn't seem to take any notice, however, and caught Harry looking at them.
"What, Potter?" he said loudly. "Get that Mudblood Creevey to take a picture for you!"
Harry growled and turned around heatedly. Now he was looking up at the staff table and found Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Professor Flitwick and Hagrid staring straight back at him. They all quickly broke their gazes once his eyes met theirs, and began talking merrily to one another as though nothing had happened.
Harry wanted to break something.
—x—x—x—
"Do you think he's all right, Albus?"
Dumbledore lowered his goblet and sighed, gazing sadly at Harry once more before meeting Professor McGonagall's eyes. He had noticed that Harry hadn't been eating very well since he had returned from the summer, and it worried him. At the present moment the boy looked angry enough to hex the lot of them into oblivion. That worried him as well.
Merlin's beard, he was constantly worried nowadays. It couldn't be good for his old age.
"I don't know," he confessed tiredly as a screech of laughter resounded from the Slytherin table. "I have no idea what to do, Minerva. I've spoken to Severus about continuing Occlumency, but..."
"You don't think he will progress far enough in the course of the year to fully shut out V-Voldemort?"
"If the severity of the possession was indeed as bad as it was," Dumbledore answered, his eyes devoid of their normal twinkle. "Then...I am very fearful for the boy. Very fearful."
Minerva's eyes met the Headmaster's in a silent understanding. "Will he have to be taken out of Gryffindor Tower? Surely it cannot be that bad - "
"It might be," Albus interrupted. "And if it is..." He sighed. "I don't know. I will have to speak with you and Severus about it later. Perhaps we can come up with something then."
"All right," the Deputy Headmistress said, glancing darkly at Potter. "All right."
—x—x—x—
Snape hated Peeves with every fibre in his body. Even his clothes hated Peeves.
He sat, eating his dinner in glowering silence, trying to remember if he'd ever seen a potion that could vanquish ghosts...particularly Poltergeists like the sodding piece of work that was probably currently bouncing around the Trophy Room. Or vandalizing a loo somewhere. Or upending the waste bins in a classroom. Heaven forbid Peeves would dare go into his office...
He'd always been under the impression that Peeves would never piss off a Professor. He had been sadly mistaken when the stupid phantom had emptied an entire ink bottle over his head on his way to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. The little man had even been considerate enough to write a song in Snape's honour, which he sang as he began pelting him with pieces of chalk and pellets of Boubotuber pus (heaven knew where he'd gotten those from). The potions master growled at the feeble memory of the lyrics, which hadn't been pleasant to say the least.
A horrible, festering shriek of laughter erupted from the Slytherin table suddenly and Snape cringed, almost embarrassed that that noise had come from his own house. He vaguely wondered what combination of witch and wizard could produce something so foul, then he sniggered at the thought. Parkinson, no doubt. Lately she'd been laughing horribly at every little thing Malfoy did, presumably to get his attention. Severus shook his head at the prospect of raging teenage hormones and felt suddenly sorry that Malfoy had that banshee on his tail to deal with. Hell, she'd even snorted with unsuppressed glee when the boy had cut the wrong end off a Wormwood plant in potions. Hardly comical, he thought. He'd have hexed her right then and there if he were Draco, and Snape had to admit, he probably wouldn't have minded if Malfoy had done just that. He should really suggest it to the blond git sometime.
Minerva was making her way towards him and Severus sighed, bracing himself for whatever she had to yell at him for this time. Surprisingly she didn't look irritated like she usually did and Snape was momentarily stunned.
"Good evening, Severus," McGonagall said, her eyes anxiously sweeping the Hall of students.
Snape grunted out a hello, hoping she wouldn't notice -
"Why Severus...what on earth happened to your head?"
Fuck.
The ink Peeves had poured on him had plastered his hair to his skull, making it look like the top of his head was shaved clean and painted jet-black. He seethed and suddenly became aware that he was groping for his wand. Withdrawing his hand from his pocket quickly, he fought his urge to hex the woman and forced his face into a painful grimace.
"Fucking Poltergeist."
Minerva's eyes widened and she looked like she was going to slap him, and then suddenly she choked out a small laugh before clapping a withered hand to her mouth.
"Peeves?"
Severus bared his teeth.
The Professor hid her laughter with an enormous amount of effort, and settled for looking highly amused. "I'm here to let you know that Albus wishes you and I to make an appearance in his office tonight after dinner. We need to sort some matters out...regarding..."
"Potter?"
"Yes."
"How did I know that?"
McGonagall shot him a piercing look. "Don't start, Professor Snape. Save it for later, please."
"As you wish." He realized that he really wanted her to go away. "Go away."
Minerva straightened and glared down through her glasses at him. "Maybe you should wash your hair before you come up then," she said smugly. "It might help a little."
Snape exited the Great Hall, swearing.
—x—x—x—
"Blimey I'm stuffed!" Ron exclaimed contentedly, standing up and stretching, a shower of confetti falling from his robes. "Is anyone else done eating?"
"I am," Harry said, leaving his seat as well. Ron looked down at Harry's mutilated food and then glanced back up at his friend, his red eyebrows raised.
"You didn't eat anything."
Harry shrugged. "You know...I had a bite of potatoes...I just wasn't hungry."
Hermione stuffed Toilsome Transfiguration And How To Learn It into her book bag and swung it precariously over her shoulder. "We've got that Prefect meeting soon anyways, so I guess I'll skip dessert...all the sweets that were going around...I've got enough to last me until Christmas."
"Oh good," Ron replied. "You can give me some when I run out, then."
"You've got more than I do!" Hermione said indignantly, pointing to the bulging pockets of Ron's robes. "How are you going to finish all those off before me?"
"Well everyone needs a bit of a pick-me-up in class, Hermione," Ron said as though it were the most obvious thing on earth. "As long as the teacher doesn't notice of course..."
"You are a Prefect, Ron," Hermione hissed as the two began making their way out of the room. Harry chuckled and gazed at them warmly before looking down at Ginny, who was sitting uneasily in her seat.
"Are you coming?"
"Me?" Ginny asked, eyeing him nervously. "Oh no...I've...I've got to talk to one of the Professors about something." Another cackle trickled down into the room.
"Oh," Harry said, feeling slightly put-out. He really was looking forward to spending time with her that evening. "All right then...I guess I'll meet you up at the Tower when you're done? It won't take long, will it?"
Ginny mumbled something and smiled slightly at him, blushing furiously. Harry paused a moment in confusion and then headed for the door, his green eyes filled with anxiety. Something was wrong.
Emerging into the Entrance Hall and finding nothing but stares and whispers all around, he sighed and made a beeline for the stairs, not stopping until he was flopped moodily into an armchair before the crackling flames of the Gryffindor fireplace.
—x—x—x—
"Ah, Severus. Thank you for joining us."
"Good evening, Headmaster."
Severus marched swiftly into the torch-lit room, his newly washed hair very free of ink. A few portraits on the wall sniggered and Severus threw them murderous looks before he spotted Minerva giving him an appraising glance. She settled into her chair, grinning.
"Please," Dumbledore said, gesturing to a squashy chintz armchair in front of his desk next to McGonagall's rickety wooden one. "Have a seat."
Severus nodded curtly and sat, hoping the meeting would end shortly. All he wanted to do was slide between the sheets on his own bed and sleep for the next five weeks. Just thinking about it made his eyelids heavy and he courageously fought to keep them open.
"How did you like the feast, Minerva?"
"Oh it was lovely Albus, I must remember to tell Professor Flitwick how good a job he did this year..."
Severus groaned with mingled exhaustion and impatience. "If we could please get to the point," he said tiredly. "I would be in a much better mood than I could be."
Albus smiled and seemed to understand. "Of course...my apologies, Severus."
Snape waved them away with a pale hand. Fawkes gave a small chirp from his perch, a baby Phoenix sitting in place of the larger one he had seen not that long ago. It looked rather ugly in this stage of its life, Snape observed. It resembled something you'd feed a Hippogriff for breakfast.
"We are here," the Headmaster announced gravely. "To discuss what we are going to do about Harry."
"Send him to St. Mungo's," Severus suggested. "And get it over with."
"Severus," Minerva hissed testily. Albus looked as though he knew this would happen, and said nothing.
"The first and foremost thing we must look at," the ancient wizard said. "Is the fact that Lord Voldemort has found a way to possess Harry inside Hogwarts. Severus...I was wondering if you had any suggestions about this. Would extra Occlumency lessons help at all?"
"Of course they would," Snape replied. "The fact remains that Potter doesn't seem to want to learn how to apply this branch of magic to himself. I have informed him during previous lessons that his nightmares, his headaches, and his mind in general would be greatly released from Voldemort should he become skilled and successful with this ability. However..."
"He is showing little progress?"
"Very right, Minerva. You certainly are very well educated, aren't you?"
"Severus, please," Albus said pleadingly. "I would very much like it if you could find it in you to cooperate right now."
"My apologies, Headmaster...Professor McGonagall." I don't know why I'm here, however, seeing as you and Miss Swot will come to the final decision whether I give you my input or not...
Albus sat and thought for a moment, twirling the end of his silvery beard absent-mindedly around his index finger. "All right," he said after a pause. "Severus...if you could assign him more Occlumency lessons, I would be very relieved."
"But what about the possession?" Minerva said anxiously, her eyes wide. "We cannot simply ignore it! We've all been watching the boy like hawks every day of the month!"
"I wasn't going to forget it," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I had a thought in mind, but I will have to run it by Severus before I make it official."
"And what is that?" Snape inquired sarcastically, already knowing what it was.
"If Harry spent more time in your company, Severus," Albus said, his eyes very serious and reflecting the light of the fire. "I think he might be able to pick up on the Occlumency a little better than if he were swamped with other things all the time. With other people, other worries...heaven knows how much is swirling around in his mind when he goes to sleep at night."
"Indeed," Severus replied, too crestfallen to say anything else.
"Would you mind...taking him on like this?" the Headmaster asked gingerly, apparently afraid that his potions master might explode into either a fit of rage or a pool of tears in his office. "He would be staying with you if he feels the need, of course...spending some extra time getting some lessons in with you, doing homework, going to you if he needs anything..."
Severus eyed the old man blearily. He already knew that arguing would do absolutely nothing, and it would piss Minerva off greatly. The latter he wasn't so concerned about, it was Dumbledore that he didn't really want to be angering. He'd seen the man in a towering temper before and he did not have being on the receiving end of it on his to-do list. His head was killing him and his arm was aching from where the Dark Mark had burned earlier that day, so needless to say, having the bane of his existence gallivanting into his private rooms whenever he liked wasn't helping him any. He wondered if, perhaps, he was being a little too surely...then he sneered as he dismissed the thought. Gods, no. He had every right to be.
"Severus?" Minerva said, breaking into his thoughts. "Is this all right?"
"I suppose," the man said, his lip curling. Minerva shuddered and turned back to look at Albus, who was smiling in appreciativeness.
"I ask only," Snape said. "What the hell I do in the event of Potter being possessed again? He almost killed me before, Headmaster."
"I will take the liberty of placing wards around your rooms as I have done with Gryffindor Tower," the man said reassuringly. "Should anything go wrong, I will be alerted immediately."
"Comforting," Snape mumbled.
—x—x—x—
Harry opened his eyes halfway and yawned, stretching. He shifted comfortably on the armchair, feeling very cozy, and realized that his right leg had fallen asleep. Rubbing his eyes wearily he sat up, the smell of the fire soothing him.
"You're awake."
Harry was very relaxed at the moment. He cast a glance out a window and saw inky black night sky, then caught sight of Hermione who had fallen asleep in the other armchair as he had, an open potions book on her lap. Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, a deck of what looked like Tarot cards spread out around her. Harry fixed his emerald gaze on her and Ginny smiled.
"How long was I sleeping?"
"I was gone for about an hour and a half," Ginny said, lowering her head a little. "And I've been here for about thirty minutes doing Divination homework..."
Harry's eyes narrowed and he thought he detected a hint of guilt to her tone, but he didn't feel like pursuing it at the moment. He yawned again and ran a sleepy hand through his tousled black hair, and a soft look came over Ginny's face. She studied him a moment and beckoned him to sit across from her on the floor.
"What're you doing?" Harry asked as he flopped in a cross-legged position by the flames, a warm tingle going up his spine at the sudden heat.
"We have to give ourselves a reading," Ginny replied, tying her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. "And record everything for Trelawney. After we're done that, we've got to pick someone to read for."
"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued. "We never got to do that."
Ginny shrugged. "I've already done mine, I'm just finishing up writing everything down..."
Harry stared at her as she bent her head over her parchment, the scratching of her quill oddly mesmerizing. She was in her pajamas again, this time wearing baggy violet trousers and an oversized white t-shirt with a falcon-head emblem across the chest.
"You support the Falmouth Falcons?" Harry asked. Ginny looked up, confused for a moment, and then realized what he was talking about.
"No, this used to belong to Charlie," Ginny said timidly, plucking at the thin fabric. "The Falcons are his favourite team. I fancy the Montrose Magpies myself..." She paused, embarrassed at the hand-me-down, then awkwardly began writing again.
"Yeah, the Magpies are all right I guess," Harry said, trying to break the silence. "From what I've read anyway. I've never seen a professional Quidditch game apart from the World Cup..."
Ginny put her parchment and quill down beside her and gathered the cards up until they were back into their deck. "You're missing out," she said, shaking her head. "Of course, I've only been to two other games besides the Cup before...I saw the Wigtown Wanderers play the Moutohora Macaws from Australia when I was about eight, and Bill took me to see Puddlemere play the Wimbourne Wasps the year before I came to Hogwarts."
Harry grinned and fixed his attention on the cards. They were very large, bigger than the ordinary playing cards he'd seen Dudley carry around with him before he'd gotten bored and switched to computer games, and they had an ornate, midnight blue design printed onto the back. Harry was interested in spite of himself.
"So these actually work, do they?"
"Well I suppose," Ginny answered, smiling a little. "If you know how to use them, obviously..."
"Can you do a reading for me, then?"
Ginny's eyes widened and she regarded Harry with reluctance to his request. "Me?"
"Yeah," Harry pressed. "It doesn't have to be for Divination if you don't want it to be...just for fun..."
Ginny sighed and shook her head a little, then smiled sheepishly. "All right...well...here then." She placed the deck in Harry's outstretched palm. "I need you to shuffle them for me."
Harry had no idea how to shuffle, but he tried anyway, losing many cards in the process. Ginny watched him struggle, her eyes bright and full of amusement. "When do I stop?" Harry asked, blushing a little at how stupid he must look.
"Whenever you feel like it," Ginny replied, tilting her head to one side. Harry nodded and kept trying to shuffle for a little while longer, then placed the deck onto the floor again, defeated with the task.
"Good," Ginny said quietly. "Now I need you to cut the deck twice to make three piles."
Harry smirked and did so. "Now what?"
"Recombine them into one deck in whatever order you feel is best," the redhead answered, sounding oddly like Hermione (who was still sleeping soundly on the chair). Harry paused for a moment and thought, then stacked the piles one on top of the other until it was whole again.
"I'll take them now," Ginny announced, snatching the deck up off the floor. From beside her she picked up a lone card she hadn't placed into the pile, and set it on the rug. The Hermit.
The girl began placing the cards she picked in succession from the top of the pile into an odd pattern on the floor, her eyes becoming a little more curious with each one. Harry watched her work, an inquiring expression on his face as well.
"All right...the first card..." Ginny breathed, her eyes roaming the spread. Harry counted them, there being ten cards in all. "How you're doing right now is represented by the upright five of swords. It...it tells of sorrow, grief, and mourning due to a...tragic situation." The girl's brown eyes flicked sadly up to Harry's face. "It also tells of possible hidden dangers all around you."
Harry cleared his throat, grinning a little. "Well...I'd say that sounds about right..."
Ginny made a grim face and continued, pointing to the second card. "Matters and things that affect the first card are revealed by this one, the reversed eight of wands. Oh...this one...the suit of wands I'm not as good at..."
"It's OK," Harry said, smiling reassuringly at her. He'd never had this done before and he was actually sort of enjoying it...despite the darkness of the reading in general.
"This one means there have been rows and disputes everywhere," Ginny said slowly, struggling to remember. "Fighting with friends, with yourself, with enemies...the time is moving quickly for yourself and those who oppose you, and this card says you have to move fast with it or people might be hurt. Nice, eh?"
Harry blinked, his stomach clenching a little.
"If this is too awkward I can stop," Ginny offered. Harry shook his head and gestured for her to continue, his grin fading.
"OK, then," Ginny said, looking extremely wary. "This card up here is your goals regarding this situation and your chances of achieving them right now. This is the reversed Page of wands...bugger it...er, this one means your goal is to find some help for yourself...a close friend and someone you can fully trust." Ginny's expression suddenly became troubled and she shook her head.
"What?" Harry asked, his interest sparked.
"This...this person can't be trusted," the girl said tensely. "The Page in this suit means instability and indecision. You will be flattered by someone and that flattery will...will put you off your guard."
A lump was growing quickly in Harry's throat and he stared hard at Ginny. "Go on, then."
Ginny sighed and rubbed her eyes. "The fourth card is your past; reasons leading up to your present situation. This is the upright Devil. Wow...er...it basically means hatred, turmoil, fatality, bad luck...your own will taken away from you to be controlled by another...two guesses as to who that is."
Harry laughed dryly. He wasn't enjoying this anymore. "I guess..."
Ginny focused her attention on the next card and her face became stony. She looked up into Harry's eyes. "Really Harry, I can stop if you want. Are you tired? You look tired. Maybe you should go up to bed."
"No Ginny, really, I'm finding this really... " Harry said, unable to determine the word. He felt like lead, actually. He swallowed and nodded for her to keep reading. Ginny looked desperate.
"This fifth card represents the series of events in your life that are taking place or have already taken place, and those events are now changing to reveal what the next card has to say. Do you get it?"
"So...this card will tell of what's changing right now around me?"
Ginny nodded, her hand shaking as she brushed a piece of hair out of her eye. "This is the reversed Queen of swords," she stammered. "S-she is a woman in your life who has an intent to go behind your back and betray you...she will cause you a lot of pain and/or a lot of embarrassment."
Silence descended on the two and the flames crackled merrily despite the tension in the room.
"Oh," Harry said finally, his gaze boring holes into the woman before him. What woman was the card speaking of? Certainly not Hermione, she was one of his best friends. Not Mrs. Weasley either or Professor McGonagall or Tonks...his Aunt was already dead...he could think of no one.
Wait...no, that was preposterous.
Harry suddenly couldn't seem to find his tongue, so he said nothing else. Ginny's eyebrows were knit together in anxiety and she hurriedly went on to the next card.
"This is your immediate future, Harry. It is told by the reversed three of swords. Oh Merlin...this card foretells pain due...due to the Queen of swords, causing you to become blinded with an unclear head. It says you must s-stay focused if you're going to keep control of yourself...this...this card means the breaking up of a partnership..."
"A partnership?" Harry asked her, his stomach sinking. "Do you mean a friend-type one, or..."
"I'm sorry Harry, I can't do this anymore." Ginny said quickly. She stood up and shook her head at him, her red hair falling loose around her shoulders. "I'm really sorry, I'm tired and I need to sleep...um...if you could just gather all those up and throw them on a table somewhere that'd be great...good night, Harry."
Harry just sat and watched her as she scurried away up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. He looked back around at the spread, a feeling of foreboding pouring into him. She hadn't read his last four, and he peered at them searchingly through his wire-rimmed glasses, having no clue as to what they stood for.
"The Fool," he murmured to himself. "Looks kind of dodgy...he's about to walk off a cliff..."
"A person walking blindly to his fate, avoiding all signs of warning," came Hermione's voice. Harry jumped in surprise and saw her; fully awake and looking down at the spread from where she was curled up in her chair.
"How d'you know that?" Harry asked, impressed.
"I studied the Tarot a little when I was still in Divination," Hermione replied as though it was nothing. "Your card is reversed, though...that would mean you're preoccupied with things that aren't necessarily important to your situation right now. Like maybe...your own grief?"
"Hey," Harry said defensively, his anger suddenly flaring. Hermione shook her head.
"I know, I know," she murmured. "That's just what the card is saying...you need to start heeding the warning signs that have been showing themselves as plain as day. Take advantage of any opportunity you might have. Now - The Fool represents you, might I add, - this next one is about your environment, your surroundings and the feeling in them. You've got the upright Knight of coins. Oh wow, this has Ron written all over it."
"Really," Harry said stonily. Hermione sighed.
"Yeah...sorry Harry. It tells of someone who wants what you have and is causing tension because of it. See the picture, the Knight on his horse looking out longingly over the King's lands? Its kind of like Ron looking on while you're...you're busy being Harry Potter, I guess. Sorry to be so blunt."
Harry grunted, knowing full well that it was true.
"This next card is your hopes and fears," Hermione went on, as usual sounding like she'd swallowed the textbook. "You've got the upright six of swords. This one is foretelling a journey of some sort, Harry. A big thing is about to happen to you...you might receive an important message of some sort. Maybe you're scared of this journey and that's your fear, while this message might be your hope?"
"Can't think of any message I'm waiting for," Harry croaked, now fully trembling. This was too weird. This was too accurate...and it wasn't a very favorable reading, either. "And I'm not planning on going anywhere soon..."
"Hmmm," Hermione mused, unconvinced. "This last card here is the outcome, the result of all the other cards in your spread. You have the upright Death. Now, this card doesn't mean actual death all the time, so no worries...although with your present situation..." She stopped suddenly and clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. "Oh gods Harry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that!"
Harry was now convinced he would never be able to move again, he felt so heavy. "It's OK," he managed to say, pretending it was rubbish. "I've been waiting for someone to say something like that for a while now anyway."
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking..." Hermione breathed, looking appalled with herself. "I'm so incredibly sorry, Harry...pretend I didn't say that..."
Harry waved away her apology. "I'm all right."
Hermione cleared her throat, looking at him uneasily. "Death usually means a huge change will happen to you. It will be life changing and very painful, but the result will not necessarily be for the worse. It would foretell a battle of some sort...a dramatic change in a relationship or a setting, I don't know. All I do know is, that if I were to take into account all these other cards...the Devil will come into play in a huge way, while bits like the Queen of swords and the Knight of coins will contribute to the Fool, making you easier prey for the Devil when the time of the Death card arrives."
"And that's it?"
Hermione looked surprised. "Well...yes."
Harry quickly gathered his spread into a small pile and added it to the rest of Ginny's deck. "Thanks for helping me."
Hermione nodded and smiled a little at him, her gaze penetrating.
"By the way," Harry added. "What does the Hermit mean?"
"A journey," Hermione said softly after a moment of reflection. "You're trying to find something and you're like a traveling hermit...alone and lost, searching for yourself."
Her eyes were sad. Harry couldn't believe he was letting this get to him, but he felt like he'd rather the reading never happened. He coughed and smiled feebly up at her and tried to hide his shaking hands in the folds of his robes.
"Look Harry," Hermione said quietly. "I'm sorry I blurted that out, it was dumb of me."
Harry nodded once. "It's all right, really."
Hermione looked at him for a long time. It was making Harry uncomfortable. "Do you want to talk about Ginny?"
Harry exhaled quickly through his nose. "Not really. Maybe later."
"All right," the girl replied, closing her potions book and standing up, stretching. "Well, I think I'll head off to bed...Happy Halloween, then."
"You too," Harry said, his mind elsewhere, as he was left alone in the common room.
—x—x—x—
Alexa, kab240 and Tigris T Draconis - Don't worry guys, the "fluff" won't last long. ;) I'm not a huge fan of that particular pairing myself. I'll just grin evilly and wink in a sort of hinting way. Mwahahah.
