AN: Reviews keep me righting, or so I will continually state until I have enough…
For those of you who don't like this story, reviews will keep me from writing as well… hee hee…
And I profusely apologize for the inaccuracy about Hermione's age in the previous chapter… my bad… I thought her seventeenth was the September IN the term, not her eighteenth.
Chapter 2: Good Eats and Marvelous Feats
Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron all exited the train and entered the Thestral-drawn carriages in a ride up to the castle. As they did this, they all embarked on a discussion of Horcrux locations.
"I wouldn't be surprised if there was one at that orphanage. After all, he did like to maintain his personal history." Hermione said.
"Nah, can't be. Voldemort hated that orphanage. " Harry replied.
"Still… he did hide one horcrux at the Riddle House, which wasn't, well, his favorite place, I'm sure." Hermione added thoughtfully.
"I bet he left one at the Gaunt house." Ron said. "After all, he made the ring there…"
"I doubt that's the case." Ginny said. "What about where your parents… you know…"
"Died? Nah, there's no way he could have made one there, because I was supposed to be his last. Wait… the snake… the bones weren't a horcrux…" Harry went back into deep thought.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione was confused.
"Voldemort had a six-part-soul when he came to our house, or so Dumbledore believed, and after he killed the muggle, he made the final horcrux because… it solidified his return… so the bones weren't a horcrux after all, it was the Snake that was the horcrux, finishing his seven part soul." Harry said.
"But… then, two of these horcruxes are on You-Know-Who's person?" Ron said. "Isn't that foolish?"
"Hagrid once said something like 'Gringotts is the safest place in the world to keep something, except Hogwarts.'" Harry said. "And why would Hogwarts be safer than Gringotts? Because Dumbledore was at Hogwarts… and since Voldemort is nearly as powerful as Dumbledore was, there is a second place safer than Gringotts… wherever Voldemort is."
"I doubt stuff would be safe near You-Know-Who, after all, it's not like his group is a group of friendly, kind, law-abiding people." Hermione said.
"Yes, yes, we know how evil the Death Eaters are… but," they rounded the corner to the castle "But aren't they all afraid of You-Know-Who? So they wouldn't dare to take his horcrux from him… I mean, even if they knew about it. You-Know-Who would be a great person to have guard something, if you could convince him that the thing was worth guarding. And I'm sure his horcruxes fit that description easily." Ginny went back into thought.
"So any number of horcruxes could be on his person, and the only way to know they aren't on his person is to find them and destroy them." Ron said. "Wow, this is going to be our toughest challenge yet."
"There is one way…" Harry trailed.
"What's that, Harry, to ask him? 'Excuse me, Mr. You-Know-Who, I'm a great fan of your work, and hear you have six horcruxes, do you want to tell me which ones you have with you right now and which ones you've hidden about the countryside?'" Ron laughed. "He'd kill us on the spot. Well, no, he'd torture us on the spot, and then kill us."
Harry thought 'asking him would work… we only need a way to ask him without his knowledge of what we are asking… perhaps it is time I learned legillimancy…' and Harry then said "We wouldn't ask him nearly like that… I was thinking we could use, like, some invisibility spells and whatnot to sneak in, and I dunno, count?"
"What's a horcrux and what's not? We don't really know what about half of them are, right?"
"Well… it's something of either Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's… but we don't know which, nor what item it is… so…" Harry sighed. "Gods… this is going to be difficult."
At that point they had to cease their conversation and enter the castle with the rest of the students above first-year. As they entered the Great Hall, they noticed its usual splendor with slightly less innocent eyes, and they saw less of a Hall of Wonder and more of a Hall of Sorrow. This came about through their own experiences with the funeral of Albus Dumbledore, which had affected nearly everyone present in that way.
Harry sat down and examined the hall. It was about half as full as it had been at the end-of-term banquet, but it usually wasn't nearly as full, with all of the seventh years leaving. Notably missing were the obvious: all of the seventh-year Slytherins except Nott and Bullstrode had left, and as Nott hated Bullstrode, who was barely smart enough to pass the 6th year, Nott was often considered to be the only seventh year. Harry toyed around with the fact that Blaise Zabini wasn't there, but soon realized that his absense probably meant nothing.
Harry had managed to not hate Nott as he hated the other Slytherins, the boy was reasonably good looking (Harry supposed, as the boy had dated several of the more attractive members of Ravenclaw), farily kind (especially for a Slytherin, Harry once saw the boy use a counter jinx on Malfoy for terrorizing a first-year the year before), highly intelligent (Nott was third in the class, after some Ravenclaw Harry knew only by name), and of course, was made prefect after Malfoy gave up that office. In fact, it was common knowledge that if Harry had not been chosen for Head Boy (McGonnagal apparently HAD favored her house… just not openly) Nott was the runner-up candidate. Nott was always the quiet one, known within Slytherin as a mover and shaker. Whenever one of Malfoy's ridiculous plans was carried out, the only reason Malfoy didn't get in trouble was because of Nott's abilities in concealment and illusion. It didn't hurt that Nott had the charisma of Hitler himself.
Harry looked about the hall, and noticed that the Sorting Hat had quit singing. He remembered the moment in the Chamber of Secrets when he had pulled a sword out of the hat, and killed a giant serpent that belonged to the kid Voldemort, the same person who wrote the book he would be studying Defense from. This revelation turned his mind over to Defense, and the notable lack of an unfamiliar face at the Head Table. Bill had spoken of the new Professor McCadell with almost loving terms, and rumor had it that McCadell had been here when Hagrid was here. Though precisely when, no one could confirm. Harry supposed he'd ask Hagrid tomorrow. Just then, Filch came up and whispered something into McGonnagal's ear. She quickly stood up from the Headmaster's (or as it is now called, Headmistress's) chair and half walked, half ran out of the Great Hall. Harry looked at her face and saw great anticipation.
"Wonder what happened?" Sorting continued as Harry began a whispered conversation with Ron and Ginny.
"Someone probably got through to the castle that McGonnagal didn't expect. That's all." Ginny said.
"I bet it's Peeves." Ron said, "Now that McGonnagal is headmistress, she has to deal with him all the time."
"Peeves has always been doing things, and Dumbledore's never run out to stop him." Harry said, and they all fell into reflective thought.
The gate opened as a man with long, white hair and massive black robes enterred the castle.
Content that no one was watching, McGonnagal dropped her pretense of anxiety and adorned a face of great joy, and broke into a run with arms wide open. "Marcus! Oh, Marcus… it's been far too long…"
Professor McCadell opened his arm and embraced McGonnagal. "Minerva… I… it's been too long…"
After a few seconds, they broke. "Where have you been, Marcus?"
"Around… the world has many fascinating things to see and do, and as long as you're on the run from Death Eaters and Ministries alike…"
"So you were with John."
"Merino? No, I think he settled down in the States…"
"Then why…?"
"Well… lets just say that my hunt for certain objects belonging to Voldemort has involved many, many thefts."
"Since when have you called him… well…" McGonnagal looked puzzled.
"Since, ever. Isn't that his name?"
"Well… I suppose… but I always thought you called him something else… can't remember what it is now… but…"
"You must have me confused for John. John's the one who called him the Dark Lord."
"Not sure that was it, but I must just be remembering someone else…"
"That must be it. Gods, it has been so long since I set foot in these walls." McCadell said. "Not since I taught here last time. Speaking of which, how is James Potter and his gang?"
McGonnagal stared at him. "He's dead."
"Really? Ah, that's too bad. And Sirius?"
"Dead too."
"Peter?" McCadell showed signs of only very slight protuberance at these revelations.
"Joined the Death Eaters. Only Remus is still alive and on our side."
"Shame, shame… did Lily survive at least? And how's their son?"
McGonnagal stared at McCadell. "Lily, she's dead too. Harry's okay, he's actually in his seventh year…"
"Odd… odd… I get both the Potters when they are in their seventh year. This time I feel I will be able to last longer." McCadell said. "Perhaps we can last longer as well."
McGonnagal looked into his eyes and said "I'd like that."
"And I'd like to welcome our newest member of the staff back for his second tour of duty: Professor Marcus McCadell, Ex-Head of Auror Office and previous teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I expect all of the student at this school to give Professor McCadell the respect he deserves. Also, on another related matter, anyone petitioning for acceptance into N.E.W.T. Defense will be sad to know that Professor McCadell has kept the same rigorous standards imposed by Severus Snape," Harry and the others noted that McGonnagal had ceased to refer to Snape as a professor "requiring an O on your O.W.L. for acceptance."
"On that note, may the start of term feast… BEGIN!" McGonnagal raised her arms.
Hermione watched the new teacher intently.
"You're so addicted to schoolwork you can't keep your eyes off the new teacher to eat!" Harry accused, smiling.
"Well… yeah… but look at how McGonnagal looks every time she looks at him." And indeed Hermione was right, whenever McCadell looked at McGonnagal or vica versa, they had loving glimmers in there eyes.
"Gross… elderly love…" Ron said, laughing.
"Hermione, I'm surprised you didn't notice his eating habits." Ginny said. "He only uses his knife… how odd…"
And indeed, he used his knife to cut a slice of steak, and then laid his flat blade under the juicy piece of meat, and thusly lifted it to his mouth. They saw his other hand, his right, had his wand in it.
Soon after, the meal was over. Full of food and liquids designed to quench one's thirst, the two non-prefects went to find a secluded corner of the castle and… as they put it, talk. The two prefects, however, currently attract out attention being the two people who will do anything not… well… let's just go to what the prefects are doing.
"First years! First years over here!" Hermione called. "First years, behind us!"
"What's the password again?" Ron asked.
"Ridikulus." Hermione said.
"Hmm… not a bad name, considering what my sister's doing." Ron winked.
"Oh, come now, Ronald… Ginny has a right to your friend and you know it!" Hermione smiled at Ron.
Ron leaned over and kissed her. "Think they'll be doing much of that?"
"Doubt it… I know Harry." Hermione smiled at Harry's incapability of seeing that which is right in front of him. "Ginny might try… then they'll get somewhere, but until then, those two are in trouble."
"Truthfully though," Ron suddenly remembered to say "Trick step! Watch it!" and hop over it, "I really do hope those two get together. I don't like the idea of my baby sister going out with anyone, but at least Harry is a good guy, you know?"
"I should hope you like him." Hermione said, pointing around a bend to let some of the first years know where they should go. "Anyways, all relationships will have troubles, it's how they handle such troubles that allow us to know what the relationship is made of. Like us."
"Perfect example. Three months and I haven't seen a thing… and no end in sight!" Ron smiled as Hermione playfully hit him. "Not to mention other things not in sight."
Hermione looked at him, and walked up to the Fat Lady, thankful they did not meet with the poltergeist that haunted the halls…
"Harry… it's just that…" Ginny began.
"I know, I know… you love me. I get it. And I love you. That's why I had to let you go." Harry said. "It's just that you and I couldn't be together. If Voldemort found out about you, then he'd have another powerful weapon over me."
"To crush you? To hurt you? If Voldemort wanted to hurt you through me, he'd do it anyway!"
"He already used you against me once, and I won't let him harm you again. You don't know, it wouldn't be possible for me to lose you."
"So you fix that by never having me?" Ginny demanded. "You would rather not ever have me than take the risk of losing me? And forget bringing the wrath of You-Know-Who on me, I am going to fight him no matter what you do. I still haven't forgiven him for my first year at Hogwarts."
"Even still… if we were together, he would want to use you against me."
"He did that before we were even an item. Don't you understand? Dating me makes him no more likely to use me against you. He's gong to try anyway. He did before, and though he doesn't know how successful that was truly, the same intelligence that guided him to try that is the same intelligence that will guide him to try it again."
"He would have no reason…"
"Since when does Voldemort need a reason for what he does?" Ginny's anger and frustration were extremely apparent in not only the tone of her voice, but the manner in which she interrupted Harry and the use of Voldemort's true name. "Since when does Voldemort sit down and have a reason for the families he's disrupted, the lives he's disrupted, the relationships he's distrupted?" With that she stormed out of the room they had been in.
Harry remarked that he still knew very little about women.
Monday dawned black. Again, the thick clouds lying over England made little difference between night and day. Many of the students at Hogwarts began whispering about some new power that You-Know-Who might have over the weather. Others scoffed at this idea, but most admitted the idea was with merit. Whether or not Voldemort gained control of weather did not change the fact that the N.E.W.T. Defense class began right shortly after breakfast. Not wanting to quickly be on a teacher's bad side, Harry, Hermione, and Ron dashed through the secret passages to their class. Once seated, they took out their books, quills, and other sundries involved in studying a subject at Hogwarts. The professor came in a full five minutes after class started.
As he entered with flourish, his dark robes a stark contrast to his long, white hair (upon which there rested no hat), he said in a booming voice with well-practiced elocution, "You may indeed be wondering, as I have had no chance for explanation, the curious circumstances in which the book for our class became to be chosen." A very peculiar style of speech, noted Harry. "Perhaps I had better begin in explaining the idea of defense. This class is entitled defense against the Dark Arts. I tell you, the Dark Arts are not your only foe. I have known the Ministry of Magic, for instance, to create persecution when there need be none. I have seen good-intentioned professors expel innocent students for the misdeeds of Prefects and Head Boys. But I must caution you that I have also seen Death Eaters murder young children, enlist werewolves to kill and maim their foes… all of these things and more. Perhaps you see the world divided between good and evil. Perhaps you see shades of grey. I believe firmly that there are only two divisions in this world: those you can trust, and those you cannot. Another way of putting this is you, and everyone else."
"For the first part of this year, I believe you are well-versed in non-verbal spells, but non-verbal identifications are areas in which you have no training. I plan to change that around. You will form into partners, and one partner will attempt to jinx the other. This jinx must and therefore will be non-verbal. The counter must be tailored to the exact spell cast at you, I will not accept any shield charms, generic counter spells, finite incantatem will result in a detention. And protego will beget you a punishment quite severe." McCadell simply gestured to the other students, a gesture meaning 'get to it.'
Harry found spell identification simple. Hermione tried nailing him with a silent stunning spell, and Harry responded with a simple silent 'enneverate.' Every time Hermione tried to hit him with a spell, Harry simply noted the color of the spell and the wand movement, and blocked it. By the end of the lesson, Hermione was near tears in frustration, while Harry was beaming with pride.
Other than a difficult day of Transfiguration, surprise surprise, the rest of the day went without incident, which is basically to be expected at Hogwarts on the first day: so many under-age wizards out of practice, that no one is truly capable of doing a thing. The absence of most of the Seventh-Year Slytherins may have also contributed to the silence in the castle, though that is merely speculation. At the end of the day, Hermione was working hard on her homework with Ron, while Harry and Ginny (Harry was the only successful person in McCadell's first class, and therefore the only one to not receive any homework) played a rather violent game of Chess.
As a rook laid the smack down on a rather cowardly pawn, Harry asked "How was McCadell's class for the sixth years?"
Ginny sent her knight on a sacrifice mission, which left the beat-up pulp of both Ginny's night and Harry's murderous rook. "Eh… it was okay, I guess… he taught us the idea behind non-verbal spells, and set us to work on using them. Luna was oddly enough the only person to master the spells."
"How'd your other classes go?"
"Transfiguration was tougher than I expected it would be… that class… not easy is it? Conjuration is perhaps the most difficult thing I have ever done."
"So, how much homework did you have from all your classes?"
"Hardly any… McCadell… he doesn't give out too much homework does he?"
"Nah… I didn't get any. But your brother and his girl are over there hard at work." Harry motioned over to the table where indeed, Hermione was concentrating on a book and Ron was concentrating on Hermione. Harry supposed that this could be considered some form of indirect learning, but that it was on the whole most likely rather less effective than simply concentrating on his own book. "Never seen Hermione have so much trouble."
"Well… you kind of have to accept that … check" at this point Ginny made a rather exceptionally brilliant move. Harry responded by knocking his king over and complimenting her on a good game. "at some point, these classes should begin to become difficult for her."
Harry sighed. "Yeah… I suppose so." Desperate to find a somewhat interesting subject, Harry ventured "I'm going to have try-outs the next week, I think. We have an early October game against HufflePuff, and while that group is usually about as good on brooms as our first-years, I did lose to them once, and would rather not repeat the mistake."
"Ah… need another Chaser, huh?" Ginny asked. They set the Chessboard up for another game.
"Yeah… actually, I think Dean will do well, supposing you two can avoid fighting." Harry said. "As in, don't fight with him."
"I won't. And I doubt he'd fight with me… after all, it's not like I'm the lead chaser…" Ginny flashed her ever charming smile. "And hell, I'll be too busy chasing quaffles to notice anything he says."
"Ah, okay… Check."
"Already? Damn, you're good at this game…"
And so the week passed, without incidents uncommon to Hogwarts… the Slytherin 7th year contingent grew larger as Blaise Zabini joined the school late (he had endured some sort of sickness that had prevented him from joining the school at the beginning of term) and on the whole, friendlier with the Gryffindor 7th year. About 1/3 of the 7th year Slytherins were on at least speaking terms with Gryffindor, and since no one (any year or house) wanted anything to do with Bullstrode, life was generally good. Of course, Blaise had his share of arm candy, but Nott was starting to be considered the catch of the school. He actually sat down with Harry and Hermione in the library the day before Quidditch try outs, and the three studied together for a while.
Soon the day of tryouts arrived, and Harry grabbed his broom and walked down to the pitch with Ron and Ginny.
There was, as expected, a large number of people expecting to try out. "If you have never been on a broom before, over there! Everyone else, I need you to fly to the castle, touch the top, and come back." Harry had too much experience last year with these tryouts, and decided to make a quick test. Surprisingly, there were fewer people completely inept this time, though many, many giggling girls from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor where in the stands. There were a couple of Slytherins, and they were giggly, but on the whole, they were few in number.
The beater tryout went fine… bludgers getting smacked around, eventually Coote and Peaks were the two front runners again, and had apparently benefited from their year of experience. At Chaser, there was a surprise when Dennis Creevy stopped fawning over Harry long enough to put eighteen goals past Ron in a four on four no bludgers or snitch match. Finaly, Harry decided to pit him against the three chasers from last year, Dean Thomas, Ginny, and the other girl. Dennis Creevy again stood the test, scoring six before Harry had to call it quits. When all the other try outs were complete, Harry compiled a list:
Gryffindor Quidditch Team:
Captain: Harry Potter
Seeker: Harry Potter
Reserve Seeker: Ginny Weasly
Chaser: Dennis Creevy
Chaser: Ginny Weasly
Chaser: Demelza Robbins
Reserve Chaser: Dean Thomas
Reserve Chaser: Seamus Finnigan
Keeper: Ronald Weasly
Reserve Keeper: Dean Thomas
Indeed, Harry thought, perhaps McLaggen would have been the more skilled reserve, but his attitude last year meant that he would not be welcome even at the tryouts. Harry had sent him back into the castle, informing him that the Keeper tryouts had been completed, when in fact they had not even begun. Harry toyed with the thought of who would be captain after him, and decided that Robbins would take over the team, as Ginny would most likely leave with him after about winter break. Remembering this time schedule he created, he dashed straight from Tryouts to a dungeon he knew was often empty. There he grabbed a cauldron and began brewing a mysterious potion.
"I never knew anyone else to know of the reserve potion room." The voice shocked Harry, and he almost spilled the vial of Pixie Blood all over the floor.
Turning around, Harry saw Nott standing in the doorway.
"But perhaps it is not my place to interfere."
Despite Harry's indication that this was the case, Nott came closer.
"Though I can tell this potion, it doesn't exist. And in my mind, it's not even being brewed. Harry, despite who I am, and what my parents are, know that you can trust me with this."
Harry believed it far too sudden for this statement, they had barely begun getting along an hour ago.
"If you wish for proof, here it is: Umbrage begged me to be a member of her Inquisitorial Squad, and I rejected her, simply because I knew she was punishing you unjustly."
"Such sentiments are rare from a Slytherin."
"The sorting hat, well… would have put me in Hufflepuff before it saw my cunning and ability. It apparently decided that Slytherin could use someone to teach them fairness. Despite the fact that you and I are on opposite sides of the fence in terms of our heritage, we are not dissimilar."
"How so?" Harry was perplexed at the sudden forwardness of the Slytherin.
"Harry, I understand you still do not trust me, nor do I believe your lack of faith is entirely unfounded. But I would ask you this, if I were as untrustworthy as you seem to feel, why would I attempt to gain your trust in this way? I have… the ability to help you. And I know what it is you are currently trying to do. Yes, even the potion. I can help. Just let me prove it."
"And how can you help me?" Harry asked, then gasped at the object the Slytherin pulled from his pocket, dropping a vile of a rather active acid that ate a largish hole in the bottom of the dungeon floor.
"My father killed Regulus Black, and took this from him. Before he had a chance to take this back, my eldest brother nicked it, for sport. He hid it, after seeing how angry my father was at him, and how angry the Dark Lord was at our father. Last year, I found the hiding place, as well as several letters my father received from Black, and stole from Black on the night of Black's death. I know what this is. I know what four of the remaining horcruxes are. I have suspicions on where they are. I can help you." Nott handed the necklace that once contained a piece of Voldemort's soul to Harry. "If this isn't enough proof that I can trust you… I won't, and can't, be trusted by you forever." Nott walked out of the room, leaving Harry with a trinket priceless in value.
"WHAT?" Ron screamed. "Are. You. SERIOUS!"
"Look at it yourself. It is the same locket that I saw in the memories with Dumbledore. And I've been doing reveal-spells all afternoon, no enchantments are on it." Harry put it around his neck again. "See? Nothing."
"And NOTT gave this to you?" Ron asked bewildered.
"Yes… he said his father was the murderer of Regulus Black, and Nott's brother had somewhat sticky fingers. Convenient, isn't it?"
"If not by design." Hermione had been silent.
"Can you for ONCE speak less of the gloom and doom?" Ron asked, exasperated by Hermione's unwillingness to see Harry's good luck. "What, did you brew more of that Felix Felicis?"
"No… this was straight from Nott." Harry said, fingering the locket. He opened it and there was nothing. "This is the thing that Dumbledore thought he had spent his life to get. And a death eater's son hands it to us."
"In circumstances that could be no more suspicious." Said Hermione. "I'm sorry, but the son of a death eater hands us an object coveted by You-Know-Who?"
"Would you just call him Voldemort?" Harry said. "Yes… that's what happened."
"Then, Harry, we need to talk to McGonnagal."
"No. McGonnagal is not Dumbledore. The Head whatever of this school is not what made me trust Dumbledore with things like this. McGonnagal is a capable witch, but she is nothing like Dumbledore."
"Agreed, Harry… but she is a better witch than you are a wizard. And she is wise…"
"No. This is our secret, and we will be taking it with us when we leave. Which unfortunately, must now be a little sooner than planned." Harry thought. If Nott knew what Harry and the others were up to, then Harry really had no reason to not allow Nott to assist with the potion. Nott played innocent about the potion, but seemed to know more than he let on. Unless, of course, Nott was playing Harry in a misguided attempt to poison him, Harry could rely on Nott… and at worst, the potion was experimental anyway. If Nott were to help him (Nott being one of two people in the school to get an E in Divination), his skill would be of much more than little use to Harry.
If Nott was sincere about his acquisition of the pendant in question, Nott's feat was no less than marvelous.
AN: Hope you had fun reading that! And remember, reviews keep me both writing and not writing (if you can't understand how that works, feel free to ask me how in a review)!
Until next time!
-He Who Climbs The Tree Of Knowledge Falling Only Occasionally