Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince

By: Fred and George Weasley are MY kings

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except the plot, Tonson Hall, Gretchen Meadowes, and Clara Prewett.

Chapter 18: Death and Faith

FIRSTLY REVIEWS:

Laura Depravi: Thanks for the review. Here it is!

Mpro1: I updated ASAP. Hope you enjoy! Thanks a ton for the review.

Know it all: Thanks for the review. Hope you like Chapter 18.

Nandhp: Haha, close! I guess we will see in a matter of time. Hope you like this chapter. It took me quite a while to get it up, so sorry about the wait. Things are hectic here. :o)

Black rose: Thanks so much for the review. It means a lot to hear that you like this story. Enjoy chapter 18!

Clara: Brownie points! You were very close with your theories. You must possess the inner eye, hehe. Well, here is Chapter 18. Be sure to read and review.

Blue Mittens: Now I suppose a real brownie could be arranged, even though what you listed is not about to come next. After all, you're my biggest fan, right? Enjoy chapter 18!

Dchall: Well firstly, thanks for the review. I am glad I finally got some feedback about that certain issue in the story. I personally felt it was a bit forced, and that it didn't really… fit. I am planning on looking into it; again thanks for bringing it to my attention.

Mersang: The detective reports back for duty, hehe. One thing that you listed is coming in this chapter, so brownie points to you… and of course it is a chocolate brownie. I found that very interesting about your mom because mine is the exact same way. She will watch any movie/show and know exactly what is coming next… nothing stumps her. I can do it sometimes, but only when the movie is a bit obvious about it. Just Thursday night, we were watching a new CSI, and she knew right away who the killer was. Completely ruined the show for the rest of us. I also went through a similar stage, only I was probably around ten. I was reading Nancy Drew at the time, and wanted to be just like her. Needless to say, that is no longer the case. Well anyway, here is chapter 18. Be sure to read and review!

Dahrinn: Three words for you: BE MY BETA! I hope you consider it, and if not please continue to leave those type of corrections. To answer some of your questions, Harry is supposed to be writing an essay, based on what the question is asking; the essays are not already written and the whole idea of the essay is actually absurd, that's why Harry detests them… you are right about the smarter students finishing sooner to their own devices, and that they would not be "dragged down" by the others, but Professor Binns is not so logical. As far as the rest, stupid mistakes if you ask me… ones that I didn't even know were there. Thanks for the review!

Phoenix2: Thanks for the review!

OCDboutharry: Thanks for the review! Glad you like it so far. Just curious about your penname; what does OCD stand for?

Special Thanks to: My friends Heidi and Freddie for keeping me on task with this chapter… Even if it came to threatening to strangle me, right Freddie? Thanks to everyone for all the great reviews... keep them coming!

Chapter 18: Death and Faith
Harry Potter sat on the hard bench, waiting for the ceremony to begin. The air was warm yet still thick, as muffled sobs from grieving friends and family reached his ears. Looking to his left, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting contently near Ginny, who sat silently as well. Much to Harry's distaste, Snape sat next him on the right, acting just like his normal self, scowling. Harry marveled over what had happened over the past week. Never would he have pictured himself being here; attending Gretchen Meadowes's funereal on the first week of February.

After the news of Viktor Krum had been reported to Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster had continued on to report to the three that Gretchen Meadowes, who had been working as a double agent for the Order, had been caught and murdered after her interference with Krum and Karkaroff. She had been trying to save them from their doomed fate, but she had failed horribly.

The result at first was disbelief. The Order members suffered from this disbelief, and no matter how hard Harry tried to accept it, he could not grasp it. Gretchen had been so full of life, with her quick-paced chatter. Harry's thoughts then drifted to other issues.

The rift in relationships, (between the Order members) that the death had seemingly caused, puzzled Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It had been very apparent in previous arguments that Aberforth and Mad-eye Moody had not been on good terms, but now it appeared as if the Order as a whole was distrusting of each other. Harry suspected this to have something to do with the circumstances of Gretchen's death, which had not been clearly revealed yet to the trio, much to their dismay.

The funereal service, or as Dumbledore had called it, the eumorbidsl, was due to begin any minute, and Harry was eager to get it over with and report back to Hogwarts. Despite the fact that the four Gryffindors had severely dreaded attending the eumorbidsl for Gretchen, Harry and Hermione had been interested in the different name and the meaning it held. Surprisingly, Ron had answered as soon as they voiced their curiosity. Harry thought over the last week and briefly recalled their last conversation over the matter:

"It is really rare, actually. Very strict pure-blood families have them… not exactly the type of ceremony you would expect all of us to be going to if you know what I mean." Ron had responded quickly, as Harry and Hermione had vocally pondered over it's meaning.

Hermione almost looked deflated that Ron had known the meaning while she hadn't, but continued on questioning all the same, "Does the name have any sort of meaning?"

"Err… I think it is taken from some sort of ancient elfish language. I really dunno," shrugged Ron.

"Wait you said that normally only strict pure-bloods have these types of occasions… so the Malfoys would hold them too?"

"I suppose…" Ron started, and then grinned widely as he continued, "If one of them died, anyway."

"So that would put Gretchen's family among the Malfoys?" Ginny asked confused, speaking for the first time.

"Now that I think of it the name 'Meadowes' does sound vaguely familiar," Hermione mused.

"Besides, now that we know she was a working on a double agent role, it only makes sense for her to have some pure-blood background… they are, after all, the only ones Voldemort considers worthy," Harry reasoned, as Ron face looked perturbed at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Surprisingly enough, Ginny made no reaction towards the action. Hermione frowned a bit, as though still trying to think of some connection with Gretchen's last name.

"Stop fidgeting, Potter," a cold sneer came from Harry's right, jolting Harry out of his memory and back to the present. Snape was glowering at him, wearing a particularly venomous look. Unaware that he had even moved, Harry glared back feeling anger boil inside of him. Snape, who seemed aware of Harry's building temper, was seemingly delighted by the apparent anger, as his thin lips curled into a devious smile.

"Such a temper," Snape said flatly.

Harry knew that he had let his temper get the better of him; Snape was always unbearable, but that gave no excuse to get so worked up over something so little.

However, it was then that Harry was again reminded of just why his hatred for his Potions professor had climbed to such heights; Sirius had died. Harry had lost the closest thing to a family that he had ever had.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear himself of such thoughts. However, thoughts of death are something one can never avoid while waiting for a funereal service to begin, so naturally these thoughts were not as clearly avoided, as Harry would've liked. Thankfully, the service began, taking Harry's attention off of his thoughts and he began focusing on the actual ceremony. Having attended only Percy's funereal before, he had been surprised to see that the whole event had followed a format very similar to that of what one expected to witness at a muggle. Gretchen's eumorbidsl was a very different case. The set up was entirely different, as there were benches all facing a large tapestry, similar to the one that had once been displayed at Grimmauld Place. It was full of Gretchen's ancestry and Harry also noticed that it appeared to have some burn marks like that of the Black Family Tapestry. He suddenly supposed that every family had those that went against the rest; ones who fought for causes that they believed were right, just as Sirius had. Two men, Harry was unsure of who they were, walked among the small isle in between the two rows of benches.

Each one was carrying a small, yet very detailed wooden vase, which had some sort of saying encrypted on the cover as well as descriptive carvings along it's edges. Harry was immediately reminded of the muggle process of recremation, and was about to ask Ron, just as he noticed the heavy silence. It was obvious that this was not a time to be asking questions, as everyone's attention was focused upon the two men, who had proceeded to the foot of the tapestry, setting down the vases gently. After bowing in a very respectable manner, the two made their way back down the isle.

Harry was confused, and positive that his expression clearly displayed it. He sat through the rest, itching to get back to Hogwarts.

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As the second week of February began, the professors began relentlessly assigning mounds of homework to the sixth years. It was quite odd time to be receiving such avalanches of homework, and complaints were in store. Ron and Neville were constantly heard groaning in the common room over the latest assignment from McGonagall, and Harry began to suspect that even Hermione was beginning to feel a bit of pressure, as she seemed much more tense then usual.

The entire female population of the school again began to look forward to the holiday of Valentine's Day. The holiday had never been adored much in the past years, (with the exception of second year with Lockhart) and it looked as though it was not about to be this year either. However, it did bring about a more stressful side then what had been witnessed in their early years seeing as each member of the trio had a romantic interest; Ron with Hermione, and Harry with Luna.

Harry was lost as to what stage he and Luna were on in their relationship; to be honest, so was everyone else.Loads of rumors had encircled Hogwarts about the two, all more unbelievable then the next. Lavender Brown had even confronted Harry on one of these rumors after a gruesome quidditch practice. Lavender had been under the impression that he and Luna had snuck out to Hogsmeade and had enjoyed an unhealthy intake of butterbeer, managing to come back to Hogwarts in a rather tipsy state of mind. The whole idea made Harry laugh, as he explained to gossipy Lavender that nothing of the sort had happened.

The approaching Valentine's Day caused quite an uproar among all of the students for mainly one reason; finding the perfect present for the certain someone was still on many people's agenda, including Ron's.

"It's just a chance for the bloody card companies to rip blokes like us off," Ron had said to Harry, grumbling over lunch, while Hermione was off busy in the library.

"What are you planning on getting her?" Harry asked smiling as he poured himself more pumpkin juice.

Ron shrugged as a smile crossed his face, "Maybe I will just get her a book…"

Harry couldn't help but snort. However, Ron was not the only one who had this problem. Dean was seen frantically searching for something that Lavender would enjoy in every Witch Weekly he could get his hands on. Colin Creevey also appeared to be frantic as he was seen in the common room sitting over scrolls of parchment writing feverishly. Harry, Ron, and Neville soon noticed that Colin would write, read over his work, and then, as if unsatisfied with the results, discard the entire scroll. After the fifth time this had occurred, Ron questioned, "What do you reckon that nutter is doing?"

Seamus, who had been sitting to Harry's left, spoke up. "I heard he's trying to write poetry for Elizabeth Conners." The boys all exchanged horrified glances, each silently cursing the holiday and the low levels it forced all males to stoop to.

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The day finally came, and Harry went about his normal routine. He had a rather nasty Advanced Potions essay due, and could no longer afford to put it off. He made his way to the library, hoping that Luna would also be there, seeing as it seemed she never left.

Unsurprisingly, Luna was sitting by herself pouring over large, dusty volumes. Harry casually made his way to her table, his bag slung over his shoulder, as he sat in the open chair across from her.

"Hey Harry," She greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, yourself. What are you working on?" Harry questioned as he took out his scroll, quill, and bottle of ink and set them on the table.

"It's a long term Muggle Studies project; it's not due for a long time, but I wanted to get a head start."

"What is it on?" Harry asked, a little surprised that Luna was enrolled in the class.

"The project is on muggle ways of keeping record; we're going to have to do our own family trees. I don't know why we are getting so in depth, but it is a required course, so there isn't much I can do. Mind you, that doesn't stop me from hating it," Luna replied.

Harry laughed lightly at this, causing Madame Pince to throw him the dirtiest look she could muster. He wasn't sure where to go next with the conversation; he and Luna hadn't talked much since before Christmas break, and it was still quite awkward between the two.

Unable to fully concentrate on Potions, Harry put all his supplies back in his bag and was suddenly hit with a realization. Everyone else was off enjoying themselves, and here they were stuck doing homework. Yet, for some reason, Harry found himself enjoying Luna's company much more then anyone else's. He was happy when he was with her, and he was lost as to why. A warm feeling rose inside of him as he looked up at her, as she continued to concentrate hard on her homework. He felt something for her; what, he didn't know, but he knew that something was there… something stronger then it had been the last time he was with her.

However, something strange began to take place as Harry continued to watch her. His scar was suddenly set on fire, as if the wound had burst open again. It was the worst pain he had ever experienced with the cursed wound, and he flung back in retaliation of the excruciating pain. Falling from his chair, Luna came to his side, demanding, "Harry what's wrong? Are you all right? What happened?" He couldn't answer her, as he felt a presence inside of him. He became aware of what was happening, and began to struggle, trying to close Voldemort off.

As he glanced upon her face through squinted eyes, he felt another emotion as he heard cruel laughter rise in his head; he wanted to strangle her… he wanted to cause pain, to watch her die and watch everyone mope over her lifeless form; he wanted to kill.

Luna's face lighted with fear, as he brought his arms threateningly to her neck. She stood there motionlessly, obviously too confused and frightened to move as his fingers wrapped around her throat.

It was the weirdest, and possibly most frightening thing Harry had ever experienced; it was as though an invisible force was suffocating him, dragging him to cold and dark depths unknown. He had been struggling for quite some time, and has he felt his hands encircle her neck, he knew he had to do something, anything, to stop this madness. He didn't know how, or for how long he fought, but he regained control of himself just in time to stop himself from tightening his grip.

Shaking, he lowered his hands, and he felt the presence leave him. Luna, who was rather pale, stood, looking rather shaken, as Harry sat still on the floor, the pain still radiating from his head.

"Harry?" Luna called out weakly as Madame Pince rounded the corner.

"Out, both of you! Such commotion! What do you think you are doing on the floor young man? Out, I say!" Madame Pince demanded in an irritated voice.

Harry stood, wincing at the pain, as he gathered his things in silence as Luna did the same all while throwing him apprehensive looks as though he was about to pounce on her at any moment. His mind was buzzing; how had Voldemort managed to get inside of his head? Occulmency had been going so well... of course, with the exception of Harry's vision with Karkaroff.

"Harry…" Luna began uncertainly as the two exited the library, Harry still occasionally grimacing at the pain.

"I have to go," he replied shortly, as he turned the opposite corner, leaving her standing by herself in the empty corridor. He couldn't face her right now; he was too ashamed of what had almost just happened. He needed to find someone; he needed to understand what had just happened. He had been close to strangling Luna… close to killing her. What if he had not been able to stop Voldemort? What would happen the next time Voldemort decided to pop into his head?

There won't be a next time, Harry thought with conviction as he came down a staircase, unaware of exactly where he was going, and not truly caring either. He was confused; he didn't understand why this was happening. He had been told that if he had learned Occulmency, Voldemort would not be able enter his mind and control his actions; Dumbledore had been wrong.

He turned the corridor now realizing that he was on the ground floor on the opposite side of the Great hall. The classrooms were never used on this side, but he remembered reporting to this side briefly for Divination last year, in room eleven with Firenze. Harry hadn't heard anything about the centaur, and in spite of himself wondered just what Firenze was up to.

The door to classroom eleven was wide open, display it's contents, and resembling a great mossy mass of forest and the ground was covered with think moss and a great canopy that rested overhead. Entering the room, Harry was surprised to see Firenze patiently waiting by the door, as though he had been expecting a visitor.

"I was expecting that you would come," Firenze began calmly as he saw Harry enter the door.

"Err… I don't think I understand what you are getting at," Harry replied confused. He had not been planning on coming here himself; he had wandered, his thoughts so important that he didn't think twice about where he was going.

"It is only natural for you to be confused of your destiny, Harry Potter," Firenze began. "I cannot offer you all the answers, though the time for you to fulfill it is drawing closer and closer everyday. Come with me, and I will offer what help I can." Harry looked at the centaur with a confused expression; what help could he possibly provide? However, most importantly Harry wondered why the centaur was being so helpful. Yet, he was plagued with curiosity… Harry followed, noticing for the first time that his scar had ceased burning; it had been replaced instead with a dull ache.

"It is not normally in our nature to show our knowledge so clearly to that of the human race. Your race is a near-sighted one, most never truly understand the skies. Yet, I fear that if you are not helped in your understanding, the evil will conquer us all."

Harry stood in silence, wondering just what the centaur was going to do. As Firenze walked to the center of the room, and moves the canopy leaves; the room dimmed, and twilight shone overhead, as Harry remembered it doing during his Divination lessons.

"The sky has long foretold of your life, Harry Potter. You have grown through very hard times and there are many more to come. A strong faith lives within you, something that will always help you. You must remember this, Harry Potter," Firenze said his voice still calm. Harry was still confused, yet very interested in what Firenze was telling him. So interested, in fact that he began to let the previous even t slip his mind as he strained to hear the centaur speak.

"Everyone has a destiny, a life in which they are forced to fulfill. Some are better then others. Yet each path bares forks in its path... choices in which one must make. The paths of three people are woven into the night sky tonight. One is yours is Harry Potter, and the fork in your path is drawing very near. No choice is right or wrong; a choice shows character. One in the sky has made his choice already… the other, I am afraid, will have his chance to choose his own at the very end of his journey," Firenze explained still looking up into the majestic sky, as Harry gapped up at the stars as well, wondering if perhaps one of the destinies belonged to Tom Riddle.

"Your choice will affect us all. I cannot tell you which is right. I can only warn you that it is present. The time you encounter this fork will be much later, yet still in your young years. You now know of your destiny… You now know if the responsibility. It is much greater then what the human prophecies about you have made it out to be. Gone on, Harry Potter. Remember your faith and keep it close to your heart," Firenze said, his voice still calm, but with a hint of closure, as if this was the end of their conversation. Harry took the hint, and went out the door, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, even though he was still confused about the cryptic messages the centaur had been giving him.

However, he did not have time to solve the mystery that Firenze had presented to him. Harry needed to first solve what had happened to him in the library with Luna Climbing the stairs hurriedly, Harry set his mind to visit Professor Hall. Hall had to have some idea as to what was going on.

Entering Hall's office, Harry found the professor asleep, sitting in his chair with his head rested upon the desk. He didn't want to wake him up, but Harry was desperate for help. Shaking the sleeping man gently, Hall woke and looked surprised to see Harry standing over him.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter," Hall said a bit sheepishly, "I see I have dosed off. What can I help you with? Certainly we don't have a lesson planned today, do we?"

"No, not at all… but something happened," Harry explained.

Hall sat up, looking at Harry with concern. "Did you have a vision?"

"No. Voldemort was in my head; controlling my actions," Harry said eyes downcast, sounding nothing like his normal self.

"What?" Hall stood up wearing a worried expression. "We have to get Dumbledore. This is very serious. Who were you with? What did he force you to do?"

"I was with Luna Lovegood, and I almost strangled her," Harry's voice croaked.

"But… how? Your lessons have been going perfectly. You have almost mastered the art of Oculmency." Hall replied incredulously.

"That is what I was hoping you could help me with. I have to find a way to stop this. I barley managed to get control of myself just in time. I can't risk having something like this happen again." Harry said.

" No, of course not. We have to find away to keep Voldemort out of your head. If Occulmency is no longer working, it is because he is using a different method to read your thoughts… he using a different link to you. A link other then that scar. Have you seen anything recently dealing with him? Have you witnessed anything with Voldemort?"

"Yes," Harry finally answered remembering how he had witnessed Voldemort torturing Karkaroff.

"There has to be some link," Hall said as he walked to the bookshelf bidding Harry to follow him. Grabbing a large, red book of from the middle shelf, Hall peered through its contents.

"If you are both entering each others mind, and are both practiced in Occulmency, there is a similar link in which you both transport your weak emotions to each other. You must have sensed Voldemort's emotions and entered without even realizing it… I am assuming that you were not in control of his actions?"

"Yeah, I felt what he was feeling, but I couldn't control him."

"And he could control you?"

"Yes."

"He must've entered willingly, then, if he could control you.How you can still sense each others emotions, I have no idea." Hall said in a hopeless manner.

"Well what do I do now?" Harry demanded feeling rather frustrated.

"We tell Dumbledore," Tonson replied, "and keep our faith."

Faith. Remember your faith and keep it close to your heart. Harry followed Hall out of his classroom, wondering and marveling at the centaur's words.

A/N: All right well there is Chapter 18. Hope you enjoyed, and as always thanks for reading… and in this case, waiting (it took me much too long to update). This chapter is my favorite so far, even if Gretchen dies, which was a bit hard to write, mind you. It's Spring Break (YAY!) so I am looking to write tons more, so keep your eyes open for more chapters. Of course, be sure to leave me a review. I really want to know how this chapter goes over.

One quick question: what year do students take the N.E.W.T.S? 6th or 7th?

Gretchen's death was foreshadowed lightly in Chapter 15 when everyone was gathered for Christmas breakfast. Here is the excerpt: As soon has everyone, all thirteen of them, had finished Gretchen rose first and was about to help Mrs. Weasley with the dishes as Lupin signaled for her to wait and she sat back down. The key was of course that she was the first to rise, when THIRTEEN people were dining. Now, according to Trewlaney, the first to rise is the first to die; Now I know the old bat is nothing more than a fraud, but she has made certain predictions that are of major importance to Harry, and I believe that JKR included that little tidbit of Trewlaney's suspicions, because it will turn out to be important later on.

This story is under heavy revision… I know that has been said before, but this time I am going to tweak a few odd ends; the whole Draco/Ginny pairing will be revised, and possibly deleted, and I am also going to look into chapter 15. None of the changes will be of major importance to the plot. They are just things that do not necessarily make any sense as they are currently. With that being said, REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! Thanks!

PREVIEW for next chapter: We learn Dumbledore and Snape's reactions to what happened to Harry in the library. Harry ponders over Firenze's message, and another attack occurs, this time the Order is the one attacking. Should cover the rest February and March both... hopefully very long.