Thanks to Missybewitched for her lovely Beta work – especially now as assignments need to be done, she has her own masterpiece to complete and her trusty computer has been irking her!
Without further ado, I give you Chapter 8… some more mysteries will begin to be revealed….
Chapter 8 – All Muddled Up
McGonagall slowly pushed open the large ornate dark oak door to Dumbledore's office and guided Harry inside with a soft pressure between his shoulder blades. Harry supposed that she hadn't bothered to knock to announce their presence because the Headmaster of Hogwarts was expecting them.
The first thing that Harry noticed when he stepped into Dumbldore's office was that it wasn't as brightly lit as it was every time he had been there, and he had been there a lot - possibly even more than Fred and George. The office was dull and misty, and when Harry spotted Dumbledore, he realised why.
Dumbledore was seated at his chair behind his large antique desk, scrolls of parchment scattered all over the top of it. Pale blue piercing eyes looked gravely at Harry from beneath half-moon spectacles. He had seen Dumbledore wear this expression before, but somehow this time his expression seemed even more serious.
"Please sit down Harry," Dumbledore said quietly as he gestured to a rigid wooden chair directly in front of his desk. Harry complied, beginning to feel like he was about to be interrogated. What was unfolding before his very eyes was reminding him of his Muggle identity, bringing to the forefront of his mind the episodes he had seen of The Bill, when his Aunt Petunia had made him scrub the carpets under her watchful yet distracted eye. The wooden chair was a far cry from Dumbledore's typical squishy chintz chairs. As soon as he sat down his senses were raised instantly and he was taken over by a defensive mood.
Looking up, emerald green met pale blue, and he felt a sudden surge of hatred course through his veins. This sudden rush of hatred was an uncomfortable reminder to Harry of the link he still shared with Voldemort. Looking away quickly, and breathing deeply, he expelled the anger from his body and mind. He concentrated on the shiny metal instruments sitting on the spindly-legged table to his right. The wondrous instruments that Dumbledore used on occasion had always fascinated him since the first time he saw them.
"Professor Snape was severely injured tonight."
Harry whipped his head around to look at Dumbledore. He was peering at him intently, watching his every move and reaction.
"You were the last person to see him," Dumbledore said while studying Harry's face.
Harry stared straight back at the Headmaster. He could not believe his ears. Surely he must know that any injury sustained by the greasy-headed Potions Master was the Potion Master's own fault, as well as being an accident. Was Dumbledore suggesting that what he had done was intentional? That he was not in control of his own wand? That he was being used by Voldemort to strike down the teachers of Hogwarts one by one and that Dumbledore would be next?
"I am not implying anything Harry," Dumbledore said carefully as he felt the surrounding air vibrate with the anger that was starting to radiate from the boy-who-lived. "Can you tell me what you remember about your meeting with Professor Snape tonight? About what time did you leave his office?"
Harry recounted his story to Dumbledore. He told the Headmaster about how Snape had sneakily struck him from the shadows of his bat cave with the Legilimency spell when he hadn't expected it and how he had only hurt Snape in self-defence.
As Harry told Dumbledore and McGonagall about this part of the evening, Dumbledore arose abruptly from his chair (well, as abrupt as he could for someone of his age).
"When I ran from the room he was shouting my name," Harry continued. "You know, like he always does in that voice of his…"
Harry then did his best impression of Snape saying, "Potter!" But he noticed that neither adult was paying him any attention. He turned in his chair to see McGonagall send Dumbledore a significant look that they shared for the briefest of seconds. Catching a faint sparkle in his peripheral vision, Harry turned more and noticed a faint ball of light slowly fading. It looked as if a handful of gold glitter had burst mid-air, and was now falling softly to land on the hard, wooden floor.
"Harry, do you remember seeing anything as you left Professor Snape's office?" Dumbledore asked quickly as he walked around his desk to stand next to Professor McGonagall.
"No."
"Minerva, would you please escort Harry back to his dormitory?" Dumbledore said as he looked thankfully towards the spot where the golden flecks of glitter were falling softly to the floor.
"Of course," Professor McGonagall said as she beckoned to Harry to stand up.
"When Harry is safe in Gryffindor Tower, meet me at the Hospital wing. Professor Snape has gained consciousness."
Harry couldn't look Professor McGonagall in the eye as they walked along the deserted corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. He had a strong feeling that his head of house believed him to be lying about two things tonight – what he had 'done' to Professor Snape and his relationship with Hermione. Walking along, he felt the eyes of all the portraits following him. He heard their hushed conversations, following him from floor to floor like a slow, silent wave wending itself along the corridors.
Professor McGonagall walked him to the foot of the stairs that lead to the dormitories, and watched with eagle eyes as he climbed each stone step and entered the room that he shared with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean.
Ron's bedside curtains were drawn tight, but no characteristic loud snore could be heard emanating from within. Harry walked past silently and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He suddenly felt very isolated.
Harry awoke the next morning to find that he had overslept. He jumped out of his bed, covers falling in a heap to the cold, stone floor, and moved to give Ron a sharp poke (as was typical when this thing happened, as Harry always found he was the first to wake up), to find that Ron's bed was empty. And not only was it empty, he had left it in an immaculate condition.
Harry jumped as the dormitory door opened with a bang. He looked up, startled from his quiet, mesmerizing, contemplations of Ron's perfect bed-making skills. Ron could beat Aunt Petunia hands down at her favourite pastime any day, he really could.
Neville stomped over to his school trunk and flung it open. Clothes and other things flew all over Neville's bed and surrounding area.
"Something wrong, Neville?" Harry inquired, forgetting that he was running late and should be rushing around as madly as Neville was now.
Neville spun around in surprise and dropped his Herbology book on his left foot. He howled in pain.
"I didn't know you were here, Harry," Neville said as he collapsed onto his bed and began rubbing his foot feverishly. "Ron's down at breakfast, I guess I assumed you were down there, too."
Harry turned his back on Neville and begun collecting his clothes from various places around his bed. "What's the rush?" he said quickly, changing the subject from Ron.
"I forgot I have my Herbology exam today," Neville said as he jumped from his bed and made his way towards the door. "It's open book, so I'm going to need this," he said, waving the book above his head as he exited the room.
"Good luck," Harry called after him, knowing perfectly well that Neville wouldn't need it. He knew that Neville would receive top grades even without the comfort of having his textbook with him.
Harry entered the Great Hall to once again find himself the subject of juicy gossip. As soon as he planted his foot onto the smooth, stone floor, his presence was greeted with intense stares and whispers from the students and staff of the school.
Harry made his way towards the Gryffindor table. On his way, he passed Ginny who was on her way out, having finished her breakfast. He looked into her eyes and gave her a soft smile; she turned her head to look the other way, sticking her nose in the air as she did so, a red tinge starting to dust her cheeks.
Narrowing his eyes at her retreating back, Harry wondered why Ginny had suddenly began to act like a stuck up cow. He stomped over and slouched down next to Hermione grabbing a plate of toast and pulling it towards him. Ron, who was sitting half a table away stood up suddenly and stormed from the hall.
"You're looking delicious this morning," Hermione grinned at him as she finished her pumpkin juice.
"Okay," Harry muttered through a mouthful of toast not paying her any attention. He was still fuming over Ginny's response to his friendly smile.
"Didn't you just see about every girl in this place swoon with desire when you entered the hall with your sexy bed hair, stubble and rugged appearance?" she said devilishly as she put the strap of her bag over her shoulder and stood up.
Harry suddenly felt hot as he realised what Hermione was saying. "Shut up Hermione!" He called after her as she gave him a quick wink before leaving for Arithmancy.
After a morning class and a small recess that Harry spent in solitude, (Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be found), he met his friends in the Charms classroom. They were working in pairs again to practice the Immobimovilus and Andalescius charms. Harry had been working with Ron in the previous lesson, and he turned to give Ron a wave to signal for him to join him, only to find that Ron was already on the other side of the classroom practicing with Parvati.
"You can practice with me, Harry," Hermione said in a sombre tone. Harry nodded.
Hermione had already mastered the charms and insisted that Harry take the time to practice on her. Harry felt comfortable with Immobimovilus and therefore concentrated his efforts on Andalescius.
"Andalescius!" He cast his wand at Hermione, performing a complicated flicking swirl that he suspected he had confused with the hand movements of another charm. A light twinkling white light emitted from the end of his wand and swept past Hermione.
"IhearProfessnapeinhoswing," Hermione said, concern littering every inch of her quickly ticking facial features.
"What?" Harry asked, bemused.
"Immbimus," Hermione said quickly, pointing her wand at herself, and somehow managing to perform another complicated serious of movements with her wand hand turned at an awkward angle.
"I heard that Professor Snape is in the Hospital Wing," she said again, concern still evident in her tone and on her face.
"I didn't do anything!" Harry snapped at her defensively, realising belatedly that he had raised his voice unintentionally as the murmurs of his classmates died and their eyes were all looking in his direction. "Sorry…what do you care for anyway?"
Hermione blushed and looked away.
"Ron isn't speaking to me."
"It seems that he's not speaking to me as well," Harry said while rubbing his wand between his fingers absentmindedly while staring over Hermione's shoulder.
"I think he has the absurd idea that we're seeing each other," Hermione said while taking a quick glance to see Harry's reaction.
"What!"
"Miss Granger! Mr Potter! If you cannot keep your voices to acceptable levels I will have to separate you." Professor Flitwick said. His warning met with sniggers from the rest of the class. Somehow being warned by the Professor did not sound so serious because his voice was rather squeaky. His warnings were unable to muster fear in the students, such as a put down quip from the likes of Professor Snape could.
Harry noticed that Ron was glaring at them bothangrily. His wand was pointing to the floor and Parvati was busy smothering a small fire that had erupted on her robes.
Hermione and Harry blushed, and returned to practice their charms in silence.