"Oh Jesus," was all Jazz could say. "Who? A student couldn't…could they? And a teacher wouldn't dream of it…would they?" Jazz shook her head, grabbed the vial she saw sitting on her beside table, gulping down the potion. She then told Harry to turn around and pushed herself out of the bed, slipping her legs into her pair of Quidditch pants. She slipped on her undershirt which had blood from the hit on it. "Okay," she said after allowing Harry to turn back to face her. "Let's go get my clothes. We need to talk to Dumbledore." She clutched her wand and raced out of the hospital wing without so much as a glance toward Harry.
"Jazz!" Harry cried, running after her as she sprinted toward the Quidditch changing rooms. "Jazz wait!" He caught up with her, grabbing hold of her arm. "C'mon. You've to go back and get your rest. You're hurt. And Madam Pomfrey's going to have a fit when she finds out you're out of bed."
"So?" Jazz asked defiantly. "What's that matter if Voldemort's got an inside source? Harry, we've to find out what we have to do before they get the chance to go any further. I'm serious. I'm going to Dumbledore, you can come if you want to. Just let me go." As Jazz spoke her last sentence, she pulled with all the strength she had to maneuver her arm out of Harry's grasp. Once again she took off running, out of breath by the time she reached the locker holding her clothing.
When she finished changing back into her blue jeans and black tank top, she tied her chestnut locks up on a bun on her head. She checked herself in the mirror, surprised to see a strange colored gunk on her face. Jazz, ever so disturbed by the appearance of herself, ran the tap and splashed water on her face, determined to get the stuff off of her. After about five minutes, she remembered she had a wand, and, feeling rather stupid, used a clearing charm, grinning at the results. She then made her way out of the changing rooms where she was greeted with a surprise.
"Jazz."
"OH JESUS!" Jazz cried loudly jumping a mile high as if a cat on steroids. Harry stood resting his weight on the column next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest tiredly. "For God's sakes, Harry. If you do that again, I swear, I'm gonna curse you!"
"touchy." Harry joked, moving away from the column. "Man, I guess that 'girls take forever to get ready' saying isn't just a myth." Jazz gave him a sarcastic smile and turned to walk away. "Hey! Wait!" He strode beside her, keeping cool and calm. "Look, we might as well do this together. Let's take the short cut, alright?" Not waiting for a response, he clasped his hand to hers, hardly noticing her reaction, and led the way toward the castle.
"Um…Harry?" Jazz kept walking, but couldn't quit swinging her eyes toward their joined hands. Harry answered her with a "hmm?" so she went on. "Why are you holding my hand?"
"I want to make sure you aren't going to run away." Harry gave her a sideways smile but never moved his eyes from in front of him.
"Harry.." Jazz sighed deeply, feeling acutely uncomfortable (A/N: ahaha…acutely….wow…new word for me!) "Harry listen…I can do this on my own. I don't need you coming along with me. You obviously didn't want to come. Just go back to your room and wait for Madam Pomfrey to sound the alarm that I am missing. And you had better not tell her where I am or where I am going. That's just going to send me up a creek without a paddle."
"I'm not going anywhere without you." Harry stated this firmly his face setting into determination. Jazz couldn't help thinking, 'Good heavens…his eyes make him look so damned sexy that way.' She blushed just thinking it, so, turning her face away from him, Harry pressed, "Are you okay?" His black hair being blown into his face.
Jazz pulled her arms closer to her across her chest, shook her chestnut covered head, and answered him, "Yeah. I'm fine, Harry."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"Tell me." Harry pulled a hedge away from the castle wall, revealing a small gap big enough to crawl through. When Jazz gave him a questioning expression, he said, "Fred and George, God bless them, know a great deal about Hogwarts." They shared a smile and entered the whole, where, once through, Harry repeated his command.
"I'm worried Harry," Jazz admitted. "What if we don't stop them? What if we are too late and they take over the school? What if…what if my premonition turns out right?" She shivered from the idea. "That dream…I had it so many times…it's always so real…and it's always the same way…I'm in my front yard – the one I was in before I met Jackie – and I'm seeing me with my dad and sister. That's when all of a sudden the fog comes, and when it clears, I'm here, in that old locked classroom across from the stairwell leading to the dungeons. I walk in, and you're lying on the ground…dead." Jazz shivered once again, but this time Harry wrapped his arm around her, trying to console her.
"Its not going to happen. I promise." Harry cooed. Jazz, still shaken, did not give a expression of being convinced. Harry tried again. "I swear, Jazz. I won't let it come true, alright? Everything's going to be fine. I swear."
Jazz finally realized she was in his arms, and remembered the last time she was. Suddenly all her anger rushed back to her, and the professional side of her began to shine again. "We need to keep going. I think it's this door." Jazz pointed to an opening to the left of them. "Isn't that it?" Harry ruffled his hair thoughtfully for a minute, scrunching his face up in concentration. "Is it?" She asked desperately.
"I …I can't remember." Harry replied sheepishly. Jazz's mouth fell open and she was about to go on a rampage but Harry cut her off. "I think so…that's the portrait of Buzz the Bewildered Beast, and across from that should be the picture of Dear old Legolas Goldtrin." Harry inspected the frames and their occupiers with a thoughtful gaze in his green eyes. "Yes, this is it. Straight through that door." With that Harry led the way, prying the handle to move and pushing Jazz in.
"Harry – Ow! – why is it so dark in here? I thought this was a passage to Dumbledore's office." Jazz rubbed her arm, where the "love pains" were still on full effects and tried to focus her eyes in the pitch black of the room. "Harry?"
"I'm – ugh – right here. Wow, it's a bit more cramped than I remember."
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Jazz questioned him, her face setting skeptically.
"Yeah I'm – oh for heaven's sakes!" Harry yanked his wand out from his pant pocket and lit the tip with the spell, then flashed it around the room, finding it not the passageway he thought, but a small, room like closet. Suddenly, Harry realized his mistake, horror showing on his face. Jazz saw the frightened look in his eyes and did not let it slide.
"Why are you making that face? What's wrong?" Jazz cried out worriedly.
"Well…This isn't the passageway. This is ...well...its just a closet."
"Excuse me?"
"heh-heh," he laughed nervously, "…well you see, I had forgotten that the pictures we past were just on the way, and not the way toDumbledore's office."
"But – but- but- " Jazz stammered, unable to finish the sentence. "But you have that old piece of parchment - don't bother denying it since I've seen you and Ron use it before doing something against the rules - and that shows where everything is...doesn it? I don't understand this. Harry, how did we get in here, and more importantly, how do we get out?"
Harry fumbled with his lightened wand and walked over to where the door was, only to find it locked. "I can't open it," he told Jazz when she asked him why he wasn't letting them out.
"Can't you try a spell or something?" she cried desperately. "We've got to get to Dumbledore!"
"I know, Jazz. I'm trying." Jazz turned and waved her wand for a seat. She sank onto it with a thump, feeling too many emotions to realize she was in a room alone with Harry…again. After ten minutes, a wave of Harry's wand produced another seat, and he sank onto it, exhausted. "I'm gonna guess you didn't have much luck." Harry gave her a "ha-ha, very funny" kind of look and rested his face in his hands.
"I guess it's my turn." Jazz started to rise from her seat when Harry placed his fingers gently around her wrist, stopping her.
"We can't do anything about it right now. You might as well sit down." Reluctantly, she did as he suggested, putting about five feet of space between them. "You know, you haven't run from me since you were sent to the hospital. You didn't give me the cold shoulder or anything. I was hoping you'd forgiven me…am I right?"
Jazz turned around, her back facing him, unable to answer. The truth was she didn't know what she thought. Her mind was telling her to forgive him, and before now, her heart was disagreeing. Now it was aflame with emotions she'd felt before the dance. "I don't know."
"Oh." Harry slumped over his desk, a disappointed look on his face. "We've got to talk about it."
"No we don't. What we need to talk about is finding a way out of here."
"We can't do anything about that, Jazz. We can do something about what happened though."
Harry's eyes were pleading, anyone, even in the poor light they were in, could have seen that. Jazz felt like she should be in his arms, crying, begging for his forgiveness. "Please."
"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that you didn't break my heart? That it doesn't kill me to see you every single day? That everything's fine now even though I thought I really cared for you, and thought you really cared for me? I can't do that. I tried to say it, but I can't. It isn't true."
Harry stared at Jazz, unable to speak. She felt her face turn red, and turned her back on him, feeling too many things to actually make a sentence that didn't sound stupid. It was Harry who broke the air concealing silence. "I'm sorry. How many times do I have to say I am sorry until you actually believe me? I care about you. I really like you. Cho cheated on me last summer, and we broke up. I meant what I said; I'd never go back to her, even if she got down on her knees and begged me. There's something about you that makes me crazy. You're insane, you're stubborn, you're too smart for your own good, you don't trust anyone. You're sarcastic, and rude, and jaded, but you're the most wonderful person I have ever met." Jazz was facing him now, not knowing how to respond. Harry stood up from his seat and took the few steps toward her to close the small gap between them, never losing eye contact. "What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?"
"I don't know." Jazz's eyes began to light with fire she was so angry. Harry moved closer to her, pushing Jazz's back to the wall. "I don't know what you mean by me being stubborn. And you aren't? You're pompous and ignorant, and egotistical, and you suck at transfiguration, and - " Harry's lips covered Jazz's at that moment, and her anger slowly bubbled lower. She pushed against Harry to release her lips from his, but he pushed with his lips harder against hers. Suddenly, Harry was thrown away from her, hitting the opposite wall. For a second she was shocked, but quickly got over it, thinking, 'damned straight,' before walking over to him, checking to see if he had any major injuries.
"You all right?" Jazz asked him calmly, bending her legs slightly so she was closer to his head. Harry blinked a few times before standing, forcing a few coughs from his mouth.
"I think I'm okay."
"Pity," Jazz mused before walking back to the door, placing her ear to the door. "I hear someone."
"HELP! HELP!" Harry began to yell as loudly as possible. Jazz turned round and slapped him on the stomach, making him cough again.
"Be quiet!" she hissed. She raced back over to the door, placing her ear against it. "It's more than one voice…two girls I think…they both sound pretty familiar…" she listened again, desperate to figure out who they were.
"I told you, I tried! That should have killed her, I don't know how the little twit lived," the voice rang out bitterly.
"I'll tell you how, that stupid Harry Potter - "
"He isn't stupid. He's gorgeous, and he's going to be mine, so don't you dare touch him." Many girls claimed Harry Potter would soon be theirs. The number was too vast for Jazz to make a certain girl a suspect. She continued to listen intently.
"Well, one thing is for sure, and that is that he ruined it. She was supposed to die, not be minimally injured. If He finds out, I'll be paying for your mistake." Suddenly Jazz heard a girl shriek so loudly she was certain the other must have killed her.
"Harry!" she whispered frightfully. "Harry. What d'you thinks going on out there?" He was about to answer her, but Jazz held a hand in the air to quiet him, as the voices were speaking once more.
"God," the first voice cried bitterly, "Think you hit me hard enough with that? Wanna do it again? I don't think the astronomy tower heard you." As this went on, all Jazz could think was, 'C'mon, keep talking, keep talking.'
"Don't press me. Get up. Get up!" Another yelp filled the hallway as the second voice apparently sent another curse on the first. Jazz jumped backwards as she felt the body of the girl hit the door. All of a sudden, Jazz closed her eyes, hands still on the door, and felt herself fall through it. She could see the girl, and the other person easily, and was worried they could see her. The girl was bleeding, her raven black hair askew. She was breathing hard, as if it were an obscure task. The other person was a woman, as Jazz had presumed. She was tall, her long locks of chestnut coloring falling on her shoulders. The familiarity of her was so shocking Jazz tried to open her eyes, forgetting to breathe for the longest second she'd ever lived through.
The next thing she knew, she was enveloped in a cloud of what she did not know, and when it cleared, she was in Dumbledore's office, holding a wand out in front of her, feeling something she'd never felt for the man. A feeling of anger, and resentment, and insane happiness to have a wand to his heart. Jazz saw the headmaster laying helplessly on the ground his breathing labored. Suddenly she felt the urge to give a triumphant laugh, which she did, not sounding like herself.
"Why, isn't this funny, Albus?" Jazz heard herself crow, unable to believe it was her voice. "I have you, the famous wizard, loved and feared by all, in check. Never would have thought it possible. Funny, how family's leave their loved ones in check, isn't it? How a child can trust a family member to help her, only to be taken away by mongrels that spit on the very ground she walks on. Where was the so very loved wizard I have the misfortune of calling my uncle then, Albus? Frittering around with the students who've never been part of you, instead of helping your niece?" Then the body Jazz was in spit on Dumbledore, and Jazz admitted to herself it gave her a sick satisfaction.
"Juliet. Dear Juliet. How can you hate me so? I tried as hard as possible to find you. I searched the globe, I - "
"STOP IT! SHUT UP!" She screamed. "Stop lying to me! You never loved me! You never loved my mother, or your son, and you certainly never loved me! You only love your precious Oracle. She's all that mattered to you. You saved her, you made sure she got the education she needed, you fed her and clothed her, but you left me to be adopted by some witch and wizard. Thank God they taught me what really matters. Nothing at this school could have. And neither could u."
"Don't do it, Juliet. Don't." But it was too late. In a flash of green light that seemed to blind Jazz, and a screech of sheer pain, Dumbledore lay lifeless, eyes glassy, face contorted in shock.
"Oh my God," Jazz breathed finally, horrified.
"What?" Harry finally spoke, his eyes sparking with curiosity.
Jazz's head swam again in darkness and she closed her eyes as her inner eye took her over to the back of the room, where it had her using her wand to recover the hidden way out of the room.
She opened her eyes again, pushing away from the door. "Wow." As Harry came over to her, giving her one of his, "what's wrong with you?" expressions, Jazz stood still, going over in her mind what had just happened. 'Well…that was new.'
"Jazz. Jazz, are you all right? What happened just then? You took a big gulp of air and then just kind of stood there…like you were watching that girl get hurt…Where are you going?"
"I'm getting us out of here," Jazz told him, as if he should have known.
"What the bloody hell is going on?"
Jazz gave a grunt of annoyance and kept brushing her wand against the wall, looking for the soft spot. "When that girl hit the door…something happened…I can't explain it…but Dumbledore will be able to, I bet. I just have to get to him. C'mon, c'mon, where are you?" She lit her wand and waved it over the lower part of the wall. Finally, she found a small crack, and used her wand to nudge it backwards. "Yes! Coming, eh?" She quipped, twisting her neck toward Harry.
"Yeah, but how - ?"
"I'll explain when I know, right now we've to get to Dumbledore."
XXXHello, hello, hello! WEEEEE! Yipee, I finished this one. I've got some idea about what Chapter 16 will be about, but so far, I've been winging it. Hope you loved this, and if you didn't, I'm sorry. I'd love, love, love, LOVE ( . ), if you would leave a comment about it, whether it's a hello, or a critique, I love hearing from you. Ta-ta for now ya'll.
P.S. What the HECK is an AU fic? Will someone PLEASE tell me before I go NUTS? Thanks a bunches.
Sylverwings