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Harry stared at the parchment, his heart thumping wildly. Ron stopped smiling.
"What's the matter?" he asked, glancing at Harry's stricken face.
"It's, it's Dumbledore, he wants me to go and see him," he mumbled. Ron raised his eyebrows in shock.
"You don't think it's to do with…what we were talking about last night, do you?" he asked quickly. Harry nodded.
"It must be," he stood up, amidst hoots of complaint from Hedwig. He went towards the door, but Ron didn't try to stop him.
On the way out of the Common Room, he collided with a tear stained Hermione. Harry tried to swerve her, but she grabbed hold of his cloak sleeve.
"Let go Hermione, I need to hurry," he said, trying to prise Hermione's fingers off him. She shook her head.
"Oh Harry! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to upset you last night! Please don't be mad with me, I suppose I just got annoyed that you weren't accepting our help, but I didn't mean to say all that stuff, I just blurted it all out! Of course I don't understand about what you go through, I know that! I am so sorry!" she sobbed, Harry tugged himself free.
"Hermione, I have to go now!" he insisted, and he flew off down the corridor, with Hermione's long piercing wail following him.
He had to admit that he felt quite bad about making Hermione cry back then, and he had to stop himself from running right back, but he couldn't, he had to go on. His echoing footsteps pounded through the halls, portraits staring at him in alarm. He heard the portrait of Sir Albert Whimfrey, say to him,
"Slow down, child, you are sweeping dust onto me!"
When he reached the bottom of Dumbledore's staircase, he realised that he didn't know the password. He also remembered that in the other times he had been there, it was a sweet name.
"Erm, Fizzing Whizbees, Bertie Bots, Chocolate Frogs, Jelly snakes, Acid Bites…" he desperately racked his brains, but heard footsteps behind him.
"Try Fawkes," he heard Dumbledore say from behind him. Harry spun round.
"Dumbledore? But, you sent be a letter to come here!" Harry said, his brain clocks stopping the general rotating movement.
"Yes, I am in the wrong, but I was talking to that delightful portrait of Sir Cadagan, the knight, humorous fellow!" he said cheerfully. Bemused, Harry followed him up the rotating staircase and into his office.
He glanced at the familiar odd bits scattered round the room. Dumbledore sat himself on his chair by his old desk. Harry stood nervously in front of it, squeezing his thumbs behind his back.
"What did you want?" Harry blurted out, before he could stop himself.
"Well, I needed to ask you a few questions," he replied, his blue eyes staring at Harry through his half moon spectacles. Harry got even more nervous.
"About what?" he asked.
"Well, how are you feeling lately?" Dumbledore asked, this was admittedly not expected for Harry, so he shrugged.
"Not bad," he mumbled, "just…well, I guess it must be because it is the beginning of a new year."
"What do you mean it?" Dumbledore prompted, leaning forward. Harry panicked, he couldn't let on that he had overheard the conversation.
"Just homework seems harder again," he gabbled.
"What do you do after your lessons, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"I usually do some homework, Quidditch practice, muck about with Ron and Hermione," he said slowly, he knew he wasn't very convincing.
"Mmm, and are you finding your lessons alright this year?"
"They are the same as normal," Harry mumbled.
"And, what about your teachers, are they alright?" Dumbledore asked. He leant so far forward; it was a surprise his glasses didn't slip off his arched nose. Harry could feel his cheeks starting to glow, as calmly as he could he shrugged.
"Fine, Snape is giving me grief, as usual," he said, trying to act normal. Dumbledore raised his grey eyebrows.
"Professor Snape, Harry!" Dumbledore reminded him.
"Why?" Harry asked casually. Dumbledore closed his eyes and rubbed his lids.
"Well, after last year, it could be possible that your behaviour, would, deteriorate," he explained.
"How do you mean, Professor?" Harry continued.
"Well, the most common case when people feel, lonely, so to speak, they take it out on their teachers," he said. Harry thought his heart would jump right out of his skin.
"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, straightening up, "I would like you to tell me just how much of that conversation you heard yesterday." Harry jumped.
"W-what conversation?" he mumbled, stumbling on his words.
"You know perfectly well what conversation, Mr Potter," Harry sighed.
"I heard enough," Harry said, his face glowing like Ron's freckles. Dumbledore nodded.
"Then you will understand when I say that you are being given a firm warning," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat, "Until now, Mr Potter, you have had a bit of light treatment, and I have to say that that will happen no more!" he said, his voice growing steelier.
"But, Professor, I didn't attack Professor Trelawney, you know that!" Harry insisted, looking at Dumbledore through his own round glasses.
"Mr Potter, I know you did it, and I am afraid that you will no longer have Divination lessons, Professor Trelawney positively quivers at your name! Although I don't know what it is that you did yet, I will find out!" he said, Harry shook his head.
"Why are you so angry? I have done NOTHING wrong! You are never like this!" Harry shouted, Dumbledore swivelled round and frowned, enlarging his wrinkles.
"Silence!" he thundered. Harry shut up.
"I will not have you attacking teachers Harry, fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor, and unless you leave right now, it will be one hundred!" he warned. Harry shook his head, and walked towards the door, but Dumbledore's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Harry, if you lay a finger on another teacher, I will have no choice but to expel you," he said.
Ron hurried over to him when Harry entered the room.
"So? What did he want? Did he explain what happened? Does he believe you?" he gabbled.
"He wanted to tell me that I will have no more Divination lessons, and he didn't explain what happened (only what I already told you), and he doesn't believe me. Oh! And if I lay another finger on another teacher, I will be expelled," he droned. Ron stopped and stared.
"He doesn't believe you? But Dumbledore always believes you!" Ron said, Harry shook his head, and continued to walk to the dormitory. Hermione jumped out at him.
"Harry? I am sorry!" she said, looking so meaningful that Harry nodded.
"I know, and I am too, for making you cry when I was running to Dumbledore's office," Harry mumbled. Hermione beamed.
"Oh Harry! Thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms round Harry's neck.
"So what did Dumbledore want then?" she asked, as if nothing had ever happened. Harry told her, and she pulled away from him, wide eyed in shock.
"Harry! That's awful!" she exclaimed, putting her hands to her mouth. Harry nodded again; he was beginning to feel like a puppet.
"I KNOW!" he shouted miserably. Hermione looked at him sympathetically.
"Harry…I think I know what is going on," she whispered. Harry glanced at her quizzically.
"What?" he demanded. She looked away.
"Ithinkyouarepossesed," she gabbled. Harry stared.
"You what?" he asked, laughing, Ron laughed too. Hermione frowned.
"I-think-you-are-being-possessed," she repeated slowly. Harry looked up, and Ron paused in mid laugh.
It was crazy! Absurd! Stupid! But then…
Harry thought. Dumbledore doesn't lie. He didn't remember anything. Malfoy seems to have a hunch. Hagrid smiled at him warily.
It all made some sort of insane sense.
Possessed.