Potter47
Part Two
The Shadow of the Present
"How wonderful is Death!
Death and his brother Sleep."
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Chapter Eleven
School Daze
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron said once Morgen had left. "What loss? Hermione?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't have any idea," she said, which sounded odd coming from her mouth but also for another reason that Harry and Ron didn't really pick up on, and wouldn't.
"He must have meant Malfoy," said Luna logically, who was awake now, laying calmly on Ron's lap and gazing up at his chin, not making any move to move.
"But that's—" began Ron.
"—actually quite logical," said Hermione, who sounded relieved for some reason. "Professor Morgen is new here—he probably figured that Malfoy was our friend."
"Morgen?" said Luna curiously. Everyone turned to her, ready to inform her of what had transpired during her slumber, but she cut them off. "That's a funny name."
"Right," said Hermione. "Of course."
"Harry?" Ron said now, looking at his friend. "You all right?"
Harry realised that he hadn't said anything—he'd just sat there, watching, as though he weren't a part of the events; he wondered why he'd done that.
"Fine," he said.
"Let's go then," said Hermione, eager to be off—Luna, on the other hand, seemed quite dejected to be off of Ron. She got up, however, and the four took their pets and left the train—Harry wondered, for some reason or another, what the train was like when no one was there; he imagined it would feel haunted or at least creepy...still and noiseless, a giant sleeping in the dark.
Shaking his head to clear it, he followed the others to a carriage, and noticed idly that a great number of students exclaimed in surprise...they had seen the thestrals, for the first time. Malfoy's death had, apparently, sunken in rather quickly. Harry didn't think the same would be true for himself—not that that would affect the visibility of the spectral creatures, of course.
Harry turned over in his sleep. He was dreaming, dreaming of something...horrible, terrible, if only he knew just what it was.
The world was dark in Harry's dreams, and somehow...swirly. No, that didn't sound right, it didn't describe this feeling...perhaps 'swirling' would be better. Yes. That was it. The world was swirling round Harry in his sleep, and the darkness was absolute.
He wondered, then, how he could tell the world was swirling—which it was—if he couldn't see anything—which he couldn't. He did, somehow, though, and of course dreams don't obey the laws of the mundane, or even the magical. Dreams follow their own laws, and even those they make up as they go along.
And then, the world stopped swirling and a light emerged in the darkness, just a small speck of teasing-light, just something to focus his eyes on. But then...this light was so very bright that when Harry tried to focus on them, his eyes hurt terribly. But then, he thought, I'm dreaming, so how can my eyes hurt?
Harry didn't think it particularly odd that he knew that he was dreaming. All he knew was that if he was dreaming, he was sure to wake up soon because once you are aware in a dream, you can't help waking yourself up. You just can't.
But he wasn't awake, not yet. He was walking, almost, yes, now he was walking along a corridor...the corridor, the one he'd dreamt about all last year, the one leading to the Department of Mysteries. The small light was still there, though it wasn't anything that fit into the surroundings, not at all.
He walked through the door, and into the circular room...it didn't spin, no, but then it never did in the dreams anyway, did it? But...instead of going straight through, like he used to, and into the Time Room, he turned...he took one of the other doors, and he emerged into the room with the sunken middle, the one with the archway, the one he had seen in the Pensieve, in Snape's memory.
He pushed Regulus through that veil, thought Harry. Through that veil right there...because he was a vampire. The whole Black-vampire-thing had still not really sunk in with Harry, and he was quite sure now, in his dream, that Dumbledore must have been mistaken, because if Sirius was a vampire, wouldn't Bellatrix have had to push him through the veil, as Snape had done? This made complete sense to Harry, but then dream-logic is always rather unreliable. (Or, on the other hand, it could be very reliable, depending on who you were and whether it liked you much or not.)
Harry nodded sagely, absolutely sure that Dumbledore had simply been wrong. But then, his confidence faltered, if only slightly, when the veil flew up past the archway and was the robe of a Dementor, flying towards Harry at top speed...
And when the veil did that nasty little trick, it left the archway uncovered, and a great, white light shone forth from within. Harry walked closer, closer, and he realised that the Dementor must have been pretty darn stupid to leave him alone like this, but oh well.
As Harry neared the edge of the arch, the whiteness cleared into solid, whiter-than-white shapes of such unspeakable beauty that Harry had to shield his eyes—but then, not looking where he was going, he tripped over the edge of the dais and—what do you know!—toppled right through the arch and into his four-poster bed, breathing harshly.
He had felt something in that last moment that he hoped never to forget...that last precious second once he was through the veil and still asleep...it was a sort of...completeness, a sort of amazing whole feeling that Harry only felt when he was near Ginny.
Unfortunately, he fell back into slumber then, and had forgotten the dream by morning.
Time passed at Hogwarts, and (contrary to popular belief), it did so at precisely the same speed as in the rest of the world. It just felt so much longer, to Harry. So very much longer than it really was.
Two weeks, that was it. Two weeks had passed since they had left her, left Ginny, had gone off to Hogwarts without her...and it had been the longest two weeks of Harry's life. Each day, he'd expected her in the common room, at the Gryffindor table, at Quidditch practice, just around the halls...but she wasn't there.
He also knew that Malfoy was missing, but he forgot about that more often than not. It just didn't seem to matter.
Harry walked, now, on his way to the first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year—they should have had a few already, but Morgen had taken ill and no one saw him once, from the Welcoming Feast to the current morning, at breakfast, and everyone was talking about him. The main topic: how likely was it that he had really "taken ill"?
Harry stopped walking. Where was he? This wasn't the way to Defence at all, it was... where was it?
Harry looked round him and couldn't place his location for the life of him. He began walking back where he had come from, and walking and walking, and wondering how on earth he had gotten there. He was...he was in the dungeon, as he just noticed, and there was no reason for him to be in the dungeon. He didn't even have Potions anymore...
Harry was worried. Was there a reason he was down here? Had someone tricked him, or trapped him? He couldn't remember, now, the last thing he could remember...that was never a good sign and was confusing to boot.
And then, not paying attention to where he was going, Harry ran straight into Neville Longbottom, who didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him.
"Harry!" said Neville, as though he had been standing there, waiting for Harry to arrive. But then...that didn't fit with what he said very much at all: "I'm...I'm lost, do you know where we are?"
Then it's not just me, Harry said, slightly reassured. But still...something felt very foggy in his mind, as though he were dreaming.
And then, finally, things made sense, as yet another familiar face appeared, this one bringing Harry back to reality.
"What are you doing down here, Potter—um. Harry? Neville?" said the voice, and the face it belonged to was freckly and familiar, and belonged to Percy Weasley.
"Welcome, everyone, to a new year at Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, though she seemed rather uncomfortable saying the words that seemed, to put it one way, not to belong to her at all. "To first years, please note that the forest is—"
McGonagall continued on with the announcements, but Harry was not really listening, and neither, it seemed was McGonagall herself. She seemed to be saying the things only because she had to and would much rather have been sitting down and watching someone else do it...namely, Dumbledore.
Finally, something brought Harry to attention rather strongly:
"I am...pleased...to announce the new members of our staff this year. Please welcome, students, Professor Morgen, who will fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Teacher—" a bit of odd applause rang through the hall, most likely just the sound of relief at the introduction of anyone other than Umbridge, "We also have a new, interim Potions Master while our...beloved Professor Snape is not with us, Professor McClaggan." Even less applause, this time only from the people who didn't know WHY Snape was absent... didn't know about his disappearance. Hermione looked down at her plate then, feeling guilty all over again.
"—And, last but not least, the new Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Percy Weasley."
The hall was silent, absolutely, heart-poundingly silent. Percy? How had they not noticed him, sitting there at the table? Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who looked just as surprised as Harry himself. It was almost as though there had been some sort of cloaking spell over Percy that fell off only when McGonagall revealed him to the school...or, of course, they just hadn't been paying attention, which seemed much more likely.
Not a single hand clapped and most seemed rather worried that Percy would stand for a speech, as Umbridge had done the year before, but he at least spared them of that. Ron sat with his mouth wide, and he was staring at his brother even more fervently than Luna was staring at Ron, from the Ravenclaw table, which is quite an accomplishment. Luna even blinked, once, and Ron did no such thing.
"Prefects will escort the first years to their dormitories," said McGonagall. "Good night, everyone."
Even Hermione was hesitant to get up, then, and was quite astonished. She seemed to be lost in thought, also. But when several of the first years were nearly trampled right in front of them, Hermione forced herself out of her reverie, but refused to be alone on the shore, and so took Ron out of his as well.
"Well, that was unexpected," said a voice after Ron and Hermione were gone, and Harry looked round to see that Luna was there, watching Percy now that his brother was no longer available. "Who'd have thought that Percival would pursue inquisiting as a career?"
"Right," said Harry, unsure of what she'd just said. "I'd better go..."
"I asked you two a question," said Percy, and he was looking very suspiciously at the two of them. "Are you planning something down here?"
"Oh!" said Harry, who realised that he'd been silent for quite a time, "No, it's just...we lost our way."
Percy narrowed his eyes. "Sixth years, losing their way?"
"Er...yes," said Harry. Neville was being very silent, and was looking at Percy in a very odd, implacable way.
Percy continued to survey them for a moment, and a bell rang in the distance. "You're late," he said to the two of them. "You'd best be off to class."
"Yes, sir," said Harry, and he was about to go off, but then he remembered: "Er...Percy?" Percy turned round. "We're kind of...lost, remember?"
"Oh," said Percy. "You were serious."
"Yeah," said Harry. "I was."
"Right then," said Percy after another moment. "What class are you looking for?"
"Defence," said Harry. Neville was being very silent, wasn't he? Harry looked round at him, and he was looking at the floor, perhaps studying the flagstones or that bit of grime there...
Percy appeared disbelieving again. "How on earth did you lose your way to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry? You've been there every week since—"
"Yeah, I know," said Harry, and his thoughts seemed to echo Percy's statements. "But I did, and it doesn't really matter how, does it?"
"Don't take that tone with me, Potter," said Percy, much more business-like suddenly. "Or I'll have to take points."
Harry rolled his eyes and followed his least favourite Weasley brother, and Neville followed Harry, pointedly avoiding looking at everything in particular.
Harry noticed as they went that, somehow, they had ended up rather near the Slytherin Common Room. Now, as they walked up and up and back into the entrance hall and up through the staircase and up towards the Defence classroom, Harry wondered how on earth he could have gone so far awry, and how Neville could have done it as well.
"There you are," said Percy, leaving them off at the doorway. "Don't let it happen again."
"We won't," said Harry, and he pushed open the door into the Defence class...Morgen was standing at the front of the class, looking not at the students but at the clock above the blackboard.
"You are..." the Professor said, and bit his lip a moment, concentrating, "eight minutes and forty-seven seconds late. That will be, four points off of your house... one for each two minute period. You may... take your seats."
Harry and Neville did so, and Hermione muttered to Harry as he sat down: "What on earth took you so long?" in such a voice that Harry was positive that her lips had not moved at all.
"I got lost," said Harry simply.
"Lost?" said Hermione, sounding incredulous. "How could you get lost on your way here?"
Harry shrugged, and wondered perplexedly why Hermione suddenly widened her eyes and threw her hands up to cover her ears. He was not left in doubt long, however, as a sound then hit his ears that made him nearly fall over out of his seat.
Professor Morgen was at the head of the class, and he had just dragged a fingernail along the blackboard, all the way from the side by the door to the other, and most of the class, having been looking his way, had realised what he was about to do just in time to save themselves—Harry was not so lucky.
"Welcome, class," said Professor Morgen, who turned to the class now as though the nothing had happened. "I am Professor Morgen, and...I'll be teaching you to defend yourself... against the Dark Arts. Or at least... I will if you plan on growing up to be on the... light side. Otherwise, I should assume that... whatever I teach you in this class would be... considered 'Defence Against the... Light Arts,' wouldn't it?"
Harry not only had never thought of it quite that way before, but he didn't really reckon that that was a way that it was supposed to be thought of at all, or even if it made any sense.
"So..." said Morgen," leaning back against the blackboard so that he was sure to get chalk on his back, "I am here to teach you about... how the Dark Arts work, aren't I? Otherwise, how would you...defend yourselves from them? You couldn't. And so... I am here to teach you all of the Psychology... of the Dark Mind." As he said it, the words appeared on the blackboard behind him, his head obscuring the word "Dark" so that it looked as though it could have said "Park," but no one really thought that it did, for some reason.
"You'll notice..." said the Professor, "that I did not have you bring a textbook." Most of the class had been excited about this prospect, after their text-book laden fifth year of studies. Hermione, though also relieved, had also brought last year's text, just in case, and quickly put it back in her bag.
"This," said Morgen, "was because—" and before he could finish the statement, Morgen's head snapped up to the rear of the room. "No..." he muttered, and threw his own hands up over his face to protect himself, though of course it would do no good...
Two wizards in black cloaks and silver masks had entered the room from behind, and were now charging up the classroom with their wands out and aimed at the teacher.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" they both screamed, and two jets of bright green light hit the teacher in the chest. He keeled over in an instant, and before anyone knew what was happening, the wizards had grabbed the body and disappeared.
Needless to say, the class was in pandemonium.
I would like to say, please please please please please review this fic, if you're reading it, because there has been an enormous review slump on this one, as compared to the previous two fics in the Sequence. At last count, this story only has 21 reviews on fanfiction .net, while "Believe in Yesterday" had—at this point—75 reviews. That's quite a difference, and I know people are still reading; the site has recently introduced a free hit counter on stories, so I know people are there. But please, I find it very hard to believe that this story doesn't have any particular impact on your thoughts, and is simply too horrible to even contemplate a moment after reading. (If this is the case, please let me know.)
To inspire some reviews, I've decided to take up the old Yesterday Sequence tradition and hold a contest. Remember those? It's been awhile, though (since chapter six of the second fic, I think) and this one's going to be a bit different.
As you may have noticed, many of the chapter titles in this fic have been, as they say 'original,' meaning I've made them up so it would be difficult to guess where they came from (or simply that they are not from a concrete pre-existing source). As such, that would be a rather lousy contest, wouldn't it?
And so I've come up with something completely different. I have this sort of 'reputation' of being a completely unpredictable writer. In fact, people have told me, "You are a completely unpredictable writer." I've decided that this is the perfect time to test this.
From now until the end of the fic, you will have two 'contest-like-thingies'. To enter, you must leave a review, and let me explain what is to be left:
Contest One:
In a review, you will explain to me what you think is going to happen next, directly after the latest chapter posted. This will continue for every chapter until the one directly before the epilogue (chapter 20, if everything goes according to plan). Then, at the end, whoever has come closest to what is actually going to happen next (if only one person reviews, it's kind of no contest) will win a sneak-peak at the fourth fic in the Sequence "Regards from Yesterday." I will post the winners from chapter to chapter, in the author's notes, and if you have stories, I will recommend them to everyone as a sort of "story of the chapter" which doesn't make much sense, but oh well. Sound good? Ah, but that's not all...
Contest Two:
This contest will only be open through the end of part two "The Shadow of the Present" which will be through chapter 14. In this contest, you will (in a review, of course) tell me how you think the fic will END. How will it climax? How will it be resolved? Again, whoever gets the closest will be notified in the author's notes of the EPILOGUE and will receive a special sneak-peak of part four, "Regards from Yesterday."
If you enter either contest, please either be sure to leave a signed review, or your email address (if you are on SiYE, please leave the email anyway) so that I can contact you. Also, anyone who enters either contest and is not completely off-track will receive a "Yesterday's Tomorrow" wallpaper. Some of you might have won the first two wallpapers (for the first two fics) and this is an excellent opportunity to continue your collection.
PLEASE enter, and if you don't, well...PLEASE review anyway.
Next chapter should be up in five days' time, like usual (this is four in a row! Wow!) So mark your calendars for the...9th of July.
"Every murderer is probably somebody's old friend."
Agatha Christie
Coming Soon
Intrigued by Yesterday? Check out the Yesterday Sequence Yahoo! Group at: groups . yahoo . com / group / HPYesterday
PLEASE review.