Chapter Three: Different Kinds of Torture
Maybe it's not over yet
… Somewhere inside him there must be some
New dream awaiting to topple the rest
When he finds himself…
… Ran from the life that he hates
Hoping to find some new beginning
Abandoned the future they gave...
Destined to rise above all of the
Simplified answers they gave him…
…Love he could not make sense
Of feeling alive yet alone
Maybe the best he can get is
Simply blurred by fate
Yet he knows he's the champion of the planet
But he's told he was wrong for somehow deciding to...
"A.W.O.L.," Yellowcard
Breakfast that morning was quite an eventful one for Harry. It seemed as though everyone in the entire school had either suddenly become his biggest supporter, or his worst enemy. After struggling to put his school robes on, he walked down to the Gryffindor Common room where he met up with Lacey.
"Hey," she said cheerfully. "Ron and Hermione went down already. Apparently you were too slow for them."
Harry grinned and ran and hand through his hair, attempting to flatten it a little. Lacey grabbed her bag from the table and swung it over her shoulder. "Done fixing your hair?" she asked.
"Ha, ha, ha," Harry said sarcastically before pushing the portrait door open. And right smack into someone.
"Oh! Hiya Harry!" the boy exclaimed from the floor. He picked himself up and brushed the dirt off his robes. "I've been looking all over for you."
"Oh, hullo Colin," Harry said lamely, glancing helplessly at the ceiling.
"Going down to breakfast, are you?" Colin Creevy asked. He squeezed himself between Lacey and Harry and began walking down with them. "I've been meaning to ask you," he said, "if you were planning to have the DA start up again soon. Because my sister is a first year and she's really excited to join."
"Oh, that's great." Harry smiled awkwardly. "But I dunno when it's starting up again. We'll hold a meeting and set a date."
Colin grinned wide. "Alright. I can't wait." He looked at his watch briefly. "I gotta go. I'll see you on the Quidditch pitch later. I'm trying out for the team." And then he was gone.
Lacey waited until Colin rounded the corner before she throwing Harry an amused look. But before she could say anything, someone spoke from behind them.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potty and Werewolf Jr. Have you organized your fan club of the year already, Potty?" Harry and Lacey turned around and found themselves face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and a few menacing, skeletal-looking Slytherin sixth years.
"Come to inflict more torture already?" Harry retorted blandly.
"Is that what this is?" Malfoy said with a look of mock surprise on his face. "I thought it's what you deserve."
Lacey stared at Malfoy. Could this possibly have been the very same Draco Malfoy who had toasted her at the Sorting? "Deserve?" Lacey blurted out, unbelieving. "What's Harry done to you?"
"The mere fact he exists pains me. I'm just returning the favor," Malfoy drawled. Lacey raised her eyebrows as Harry clenched his fists in anger.
"Well, you're doing a good job of it, bastard," Harry said.
"Ooh! Little Harry Potter knows swearwords," Pansy said in a fake baby voice reminiscent of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Yeah. And I also know that all your fathers are nothing but a bunch of lowlife slaves who serve the biggest lowlife of them all," Harry shot back.
"Don't you dare say that, Potter," Malfoy warned. "You have no idea what you did."
"What? Revealing who all the Death Eaters are?"
"I said it before, and I'll say it again. You'll pay for putting my father in Azkaban."
"First off," Harry began, keeping track on his fingers, "you're father's out. It's his own damn fault he got himself fired from the ministry. Secondly, I've already paid. All those times I could have ripped your head off and didn't. Thir—"
"Shut up!" Malfoy yelled, interrupting Harry.
"What are you going to do? Curse me? You're Head Boy now. If you tainted you're reputation – not that it isn't tainted already – you can bet your father would find out. And I think he wouldn't be too happy about that, yeah?" Harry said, triumph in his eyes.
"I'd watch you're back if I were you," Pansy warned, jumping to Malfoy's defense although he didn't seem to like it. She grabbed Malfoy's hand and stalked off, the other Slytherins following behind them.
Lacey pulled her wand out of her robes and watched their retreating backs. "No," she said in a voice only loud enough for Harry and her to hear, "I'd watch yours." And with a swish and flick of her wand she murmured a series of incantations under her breath and pointed her wand straight at Pansy Parkinson.
"Oh, nice one!" Harry said as they walked into the Great Hall to have breakfast.
"Why thank you," Lacey replied. "It's always nice to hear my spells are appreciated." She sat down beside him at the Gryffindor table with a sly grin forming on her lips. "It's a pity Pansy didn't notice."
The little boy sat at the dining table reading. He was just tall enough now to touch his feet to the floor if he scooted towards the edge of the chair and really stretched his legs. He was feeling rather bored, but was afraid to look up. "Eight years old is old enough to be learning about the family business," his father had once told him. And he was afraid to tear his eyes away from the pages to take a break from studying because his father would get mad.
The little boy heard his father walk in, and by the way his steps sounded, the boy could tell his father was feeling rather irritated about something.
"Narcissa!" the father called. In an instant she was by his side, awaiting his orders. "I want a witchtini. On the rocks," he commanded.
"Yes, my love," she replied bowing her head.
"What did I tell you?" the father said, voice cold and menacing. "Never use that word. Especially in front of Draco."
"Please forgive me, Lucius," Narcissa said, hurrying off at once to pour him a drink. But when she returned, her food caught on the rug and she spilled the drink in his lap. Little Draco, who had been looking at his book the whole time, suddenly looked up.
Lucius roared in anger, his irritation blossoming into a violent rage. And then he hit her. Again and again Draco saw him beat her. And then again and again he willed his tears and screams not to be released as Lucius kicked him for stopping his studying.
When Draco finally was allowed to sit up, he looked at his mother, lying on the floor unconscious.
"Study," his father snarled sitting back down at the table and picking up a newspaper. He shoved Narcissa's limp form to the side with his foot.
And Draco did, but not before promising to one day use the curse he was reading about on his father. He wanted to see his father twitch in agony as he made his mother and himself feel. Someday he would do it, he swore.
"Ron, stop! You're doing it all wrong!" Hermione said in frustration, grabbing the mortar and pestle out of his hands. "We don't need finely powdered dried doxy eyes, we need cracked ones for this potion."
"But that's what I was doing," he protested, knowing Hermione was right, as usual. He threw Harry and Lacey a dirty look when he heard their sniggers from the next table over.
Ron began to stir the cauldron, but was quickly stopped by Hermione once again. "You're not supposed to stir it yet," she said, sighing rather loudly.
"Well then, what the bloody hell do you want me to do?" Ron complained.
"You can measure out the toad blood," she said bossily before beginning to slice up some Mandrake.
Ron made a face behind her back, but complied. He grabbed the bottle of maroon fluid but as he began to open it, he realized he didn't have the measuring cup. "Hermione –" he began meaning to ask for her to pass him the cup, but stopped himself. She was in her own world, working on the potion.
He smiled to himself, watching her work. He liked the way she worked, the way she concentrated so hard the rest of the world disappeared, the way she hummed a tuneless song under her breath unconsciously, and the way a few locks of her thick hair would escape her ponytail and get in her eyes. He had always thought it was cute how she would always boss him around, though he would never admit it.
Ron was yanked out of his reverie by Hermione's scowling face. "Are you going to do any work, or are you just going to sit there?" she scolded. "I've been waiting for the toad blood."
"Huh?"
"Um… are you okay, Ron?" she asked him, looking at him oddly.
"What? Oh! Yea. I'm good. Right. Toad blood," Ron said in a jumble of words, hoping she hadn't noticed he had been staring at her dazed. He put some blood into the cauldron and tried to hide his blushing face.
Lacey had just taken out her Mazes of the Mind textbook and set it on the desk when Harry burst into the classroom. "Am I late?" he asked her looking quite distracted.
"No," she replied. "Class doesn't start until 1:45." Harry checked his watch and realized he still had ten minutes.
"Right. Musta read my schedule wrong." He grinned sheepishly and sat down beside her. "So…"
"So…" she began, "I heard some very interesting news."
"Really?" said Harry.
"Yup. Apparently this Slytherin… You know Pansy Parkinson, right?"
"Oh, I might have heard her name before," Harry said playing along.
"Well, apparently she's been in the hospital wing all day with some very horrible jinxes on her," Lacey said, the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Oh no!' Harry exclaimed overdramatically. "What happened?"
"This girl – I think her name is Lacey or Lucy or something – she jinxed poor Pansy really really really bad."
"What did she do?" Harry asked with mock concern.
"Pansy's face was covered in these weird mothball looking bumps that sprouted green hair, and her hair turned this puke-shade green. Someone told me she had these wings coming out of her back and that her eyebrows disappeared," Lacey told him, struggling not to laugh.
Parvati and Lavender shouted from across the room, "And her lips swelled to the size of sausages!" And then they burst into peals of laughter.
"How absolutely dreadful,' Harry said.
"I agree. It was absolutely horrible," Lacey added, laughing. Harry snorted just as Professor Dumbledore walked in.
Dumbledore strode to the front of the classroom, his dark purple and blue robes billowing about him. His pointed hat sat perched jauntily on top of his head and his half-moon spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. He tucked his long, white beard into his belt and pushed back the sleeves of his robes as he sat down at the desk.
He peered through his glasses at the ten curious faces before him before resting his gaze on Harry. 'You may, perhaps be wondering," Dumbledore began, "why I'm sitting here instead of Professor Maebarrie." The small class of seventh years nodded their heads. The class consisted of those who were planning on having careers as Aurors or Unspeakables. Because there were so few seventh years that were considering either of those venues, all Houses were put into one class.
Dumbledore stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it comfortably, a pleasant smile around his eyes. "It seems, the Professor Maebarrie has gotten herself married at the ripe age of eighty-two and will not be returning to Hogwarts. As you know, this is an exclusive class not normally offered to Hogwarts students. It is challenging and meant for those who have already left school and are undergoing further training to become Aurors and Unspeakables. I do not mean to scare any of you, but Lord Voldemort is an ever-increasing threat and the safety of this school and the world is in jeopardy. The number of Death Eaters has not stopped growing since the Dark Lord rose to power a few years ago, and it does not look like there will be any slowing down of the spreading of evil.
"We are in dire need of Aurors, Unspeakables, and Medi-Wizards among other occupations, so starting this year we decided to combine school and graduate training into one year instead of the several you would normally have. Never before, not even when Voldemort was in power those many years ago, have we ever had to do this. Sixth and Seventh years will be pushed like they have never been before. This is most definitely a challenging class and only the best students are in it. So naturally, I would only have the best professor teaching you this particularly difficult subject." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he drummed the pads of his fingers against the desk behind him. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, I was unable to find a suitable replacement, so—"
"Class is canceled until further notice?" a voice piped up from the back of the room. All eleven students turned abruptly to see who had spoken and seemed to agree. Dangerous times and difficult classes did not seem all that fun.
"No, Dean," Dumbledore replied good-naturedly to the friendly-looking black boy who had spoken. "Class is still on. In fact, I will be teaching it."
Harry gaped at him. Dumbledore? Teach an actual class? Harry knew that he had once been merely a professor at Hogwarts, but he was Headmaster and now organizer of the Order of the Phoenix. How could he have the time to teach a class too?
Unless… it was because of him. Ever since Dumbledore realized how dangerous the connection between Harry and Voldemort was, Harry had been learning Occulmency. Not that he was good at it or anything. He watched the headmaster pace up and down across the front of the room, talking.
"… and I think I'm going to switch around the seating arrangements," Dumbledore said. "I think alphabetical order is best. Not because I don't know all your names, but it's more orderly. And I like seeing things switched up a bit. Not with everyone sitting by the same people all the time. How boring." There was a sly twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes, Harry thought he saw.
There was an awful lot of shuffling and rustling and scraping of chairs against the floor and chatter as Dumbledore directed everyone to their seats. The desks were arranged in pairs and Lacey sat down at hers, hoping that she would be able to tolerate whoever was going to sit next to her for the year.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of unmistakably pale hair and heard someone plunk down in the chair beside her haughtily. She didn't even have to turn her head to see who it was.
It was Draco Malfoy.