Disclaimer: We both know what I do and do not own. I mean, it's kind of a given at this point…
A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the little Pirates of the Caribbean reference in the last chapter! I just wanted to make a note of it, in case someone thinks I'm trying to steal anything (which I would never do, especially from my beloved Pirates). Enjoy the chapter!
BURN THE RUM: I knew you would like the rum's name. I thought the firewhiskey bit was getting a little old. Yeah, and I just started high school (no matter what anyone tells you, freshman rock…and the lockers are too narrow to be stuffed in anyway…). Are you in eighth grade? It's a good year… Anyways, I've got to mention that something you said sparked a whole new idea in me, and I went back and re-worked my ideas for what happened to Vanessa. But I still have some advice – don't believe everything in this chapter so quickly. So this chapter is dedicated to you, the Inspirer of Good Ideas! Enjoy!
Writingangel203: Hi hun!! Miss you, and I know that you'll bother me about updating the next chapter even before you read this one, so I'd better get on to that. Love ya!
Harry lay very still on the couch next to the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. It was mid-afternoon, a bit cloudy, but comforting nonetheless. His head was resting in his hands, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He may have been motionless, but his mind was buzzing about, refusing to let him be. He wasn't sure of what side Adam was on, what was going on with Vanessa, or where this baby came from. Did anything in his life make sense anymore? But that's what you get when you're Harry Potter…
He turned onto his side, his nose touching the smooth embroidery of the couch pillow. His eyelids were slowly dropping, his mind finally at rest. He was about to fall into a nice, comfy nap when the shattering of glass interrupted it.
He jerked up, listening hard for any more sounds. Adjusting his glasses, he got up and walked about the room, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. He had been listening near the steps leading to the girls' dormitories in case it had come from one of their rooms (but he knew very well not to go up them), when he heard another noise. This time is was a loud, sharp sob coming from the door behind the stairs. Melissa's room. He ran to the door and attempted to yank it open, but the knob wouldn't budge.
"Mel, let me in!" he screamed at the door, tugging at the knob with at much strength his body would allow.
"Go away!" she yelled back, her voice shaky and fast.
"NO, Mel, I'm not leaving this spot until you let me – "
Harry had shoved his shoulder dead-on into the door when Mel had opened it. This caused Harry to stumble and hurtle towards the ground, landing on his shoulder, but hitting his head in the process as well.
"Harry," Mel said, giving him a damp cloth she had fetched from the pitcher next to her bed, "what are you doing?"
"Rescuing you," Harry answered, placing the cloth on the large bump that had swelled on the side of his forehead. This comment retrieved a chuckle from Mel, which made Harry smile a bit, himself. It was good to know that Mel wasn't in need of rescuing. "But really, Mel, what's going on?"
It was as if Harry's question had snatched the smile right off of Mel's face, for her expression looked as though she'd just been told that she would die in ten seconds. Not of pure fear, but apology.
"You remember…that night? Out in the woods when we fought Voldemort?" She settled herself slowly onto the bed. Her stare remained on Harry.
"How could I forget?"
"Yeah. Well, since I drank that whole bottle of potion, my blood has become…dependent on it. Every month I have to drink a bottle of it and go through the worst experiences of my life over and over. It's like the rewind button on my mind is stuck for a few hours."
"And…"
"Today marks another month."
"Alright. But isn't this just like every other month?"
"No, Harry, unfortunately not. It's gotten harder over the years. More painful memories have been added, so it takes more out of me. One of these days it's going to kill me, I know it."
"So, why don't you just skip it one month?" Harry asked this, but his voice sounded oblivious, as if asking a teacher to repeat herself merely because the dog outside the window next to you held your attention better than she did.
"I can't. If I do, it would be like having the wrong blood in my body, thus it would work against me. So I'll die, even if I skip one month. Look at this," she said, lifting up the back of her shirt to reveal a ying-yang-resembling scar on her back. "The potion re-opens it every time."
"Oh," Harry mumbled, finally understanding the seriousness of the situation. "And I'm guessing you're worried about the baby."
"It's just…the past two moths, nothing's happened to it when I've taken the potion. But I don't know how much it can take. I don't know what I should do." She looked at him expectantly.
"Well, what would Dumbledore do?"
Mel sighed and edged her way towards the nightstand next to her bed. She picked up a small glass vial that was filled with deep red liquid. "Don't get scared," she told him. "It will look like I've passed out. I won't make any movements, although my mind will be in a very unstable setting. Just lock the door on your way out, and tell anybody out there that I'm deathly afraid of spiders, and you were helping me get rid of one."
Harry nodded. Mel took the tiny cork off the vial and lifted it near her lips. "Cheers," she toasted unenthusiastically, and then she drank the vial's contents. As soon as the last drop had been downed, her face instantly paled. She fell to her knees, clutched her head, and screamed like she was the daughter of a banshee. Her heavy, scratchy breathing slowly steadied, and she loosely fell all the way onto the floor. Harry, not wanting her to wake up on the cold wood floorboards, tried his best to place her gently on the bed. As he left her room and locked the door behind him, he noticed two second years eyeing him.
"She needed help getting rid of a spider. She's terrified of 'em."
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What are you doing? Oh God, Vanessa, you're not going to do this. Are you sure this is right?
"Yes," Vanessa said, answering her thoughts as well as ending her pacing about the divination tower. It was late in the day on the weekend – thus no classes. Even Trelawny, who had used this place as a refuge after she'd been sacked two years before, wasn't in. Firenze was practically never up here. She was going to do it today. She was going to tell Harry what happened to her in the alley. Well, maybe she wouldn't tell him exactly…
She felt a strong trust with Harry – trust that not many people had. Not, he wasn't her only friend, but he was…something else.
So, with all this new found trust, it was only fair to tell him everything – wasn't it? The truth was, she didn't even know if it was necessary. But for some small, unidentifiable reason, she was going to do it. It was thoughts like these that had got her pacing in the first place.
So here she was; all alone in an isolated tower, waiting for Harry to show –
Crack. "Damn!"
Vanessa scurried quickly to the trap door and gently lifted it. Who could be there, but Harry Potter, rubbing the already large bump on his head, now freshly restored by the trap door.
"Are you alright?" Vanessa asked, trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.
"Yeah, good thing this bump blocked the door from hitting my head. Then it would've hurt real bad."
Vanessa, still giggling, grabbed hold of Harry's hand and hoisted him up off the stairs. "So how did you manage to do that to yourself, anyway?"
"I guess I was just lost in thought and I didn't realize the staircase had ended. Pretty dumb, huh?" Harry said with a smile, reaching up behind him and scratching the back of his head. "So what was it that you wanted to discuss?'
Although she now felt a great deal better, Vanessa's face turned back to grave. One doesn't exactly smile when talking about this.
Taking a nice, deep breath, Vanessa plunged. "I…I wanted you to know what happened to me…in the alley…"
"Oh," replied Harry, now losing some of the light in his eyes. "Are you sure you want to tell me?"
"No, I don't want to tell you. I want to show you."
"You wanna what?!"
"Well, let me put it this way: A person who has gone through something like this relives it over and over in their head. But to tell it – actually say it out loud – is much harder. I figure, since I've seen it so many times, it wouldn't make a difference if I showed it to you. I just can't say it. You get me?"
"Ok. I understand." I think.
"Alright, just do the thing you did to me before. When you saw all those other times."
"Oh, I see." Harry got his wand at the ready, and after Vanessa took one more breath, he performed the spell. "Here goes."
Harry felt like he was going to be sick. His entry into Vanessa's memories had not been quite as smooth as the last time. It felt like Vanessa was shaking her head vigorously until Harry landed in the alley. Finding balance on the brick wall, he began to walk down the length of the alley, for he could not see Vanessa yet. But as he got nearer, he could make out the familiar scene: The boy standing over her, blood dripping at the corner of her head.
The boy looked down on her as if he was going to spit on her. He then knelt down, his face coming close to hers. She turned her face towards the ground and coughed, jagged and hoarse. A little spot of blood formed at the edge of her mouth. The boy, taking no care in her ailments, slid himself on top of her. He placed his hands on both of her shoulders, pressing her down, and kissing each one.
Vanessa's eyes scrunched, rather than widened, in shock. "Please," was the only thing she could say, her soft voice mixed with blood and breath.
The boy, saying nothing, lifted his fist and brought it down with a force that made Vanessa's bones shake beneath her skin. A large red mark formed on her shoulder, soon to be replaced by a bruise.
Harry turned away. No, this couldn't be…but it was right in front of him. He leaned against the wall of the alley and was sick all over the bricks. He took out his wand, barely muttered the spell, and was back in the divination tower, Vanessa sitting right in front of him.
"I think I've seen enough," he said, putting down his wand.
"Good," she breathed. "I was afraid you'd end up being stuck with worse images of that night. But I just couldn't –"
"It's ok, I understand." Harry sat down on one of the desks. He put a palm to his forehead, shaking it a bit, as if trying to shake of the image, or at least the shock of it.
"You're the only other person who knows about this," Vanessa said, almost timidly.
"You mean Mel doesn't even know about this?" Harry burst.
"Harry, my mother wouldn't have been able to take it, with everything that was going on."
"I think you're underestimating her."
"Whether I am or not, it's too late now. It wouldn't make a difference."
"Well why not? You told me."
"I told you because I'm ready to put it behind me, Harry. Unfortunately, it happened after I left muggle school, when things were just beginning to clear up. Professor Belfast helped me a lot afterwards. She never knew of that incident, of course, but she knew of my past. Anyway, coming here, to Hogwarts, is like clearing my slate. No reputation, no shit from my past, nobody after me. Until very recently, I guess." She nodded at Harry, and he knew perfectly well what she was talking about. "And I don't want this to add to it."
Harry understood. But still, rage was pacing in the pit of his stomach, rattling its cage noisily, and waiting for its opportunity to escape. He wanted that boy to feel pain – really feel it. And may God have mercy if he was ever walking down the same street as Harry.
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"Hello, young man! Yes, I'm talking to you. Would you please tell me where I could find Headmaster Dumbledore?" A tall, slim woman in black robes made her way towards Harry. She dragged what looked like a heavy black trunk behind her. Her wavy blonde hair seemed to bounce off her shoulders as she walked. She had the type of features that some people might find rather plain, but others would think there was something in them that made her stunning.
Harry walked closer to her until they were within three feet of each other. "He would most likely be in his office right now," Harry said, looking up at this new creature.
"Oh, stupid me. Of course that's where he'd be." She picked up her trunk and started off down the corridor.
"Do you need help finding it?" Harry asked suddenly, following her.
"Oh, no. I know my way around these halls quite well, actually. It's just, I'm getting ready to start a new job here, and I'm a little nervous. That's all."
"Don't mind my asking, but…who are you? I noticed your trunk has the letters 'AB' on it. Are you a professor?"
"I don't mind at all," the woman said with a hint of laughter. "My name is Ashley Belfast. And yes, that's Professor Belfast to you. I just transferred from a school in America."
"But your accent's British."
"Yes, like I said, I know these halls well. I used to go here when I was younger. Oh my," she said, gazing up at the stone gargoyle as they reached it. "I haven't been here since…well, it's been such a long time."
Harry, seeing the wonder in her eyes, noticed and excitement in her, one resembling that of a child receiving a long-awaited present for Christmas. "You must have really loved this place," he said, musing up his hair.
Professor Belfast looked not at him when he said this, but at the top of his head as he ran his hand through his hair. Her eyes squinted; a new realization seemed to dawn on her. "Do you by any chance…" she began to ask.
"What?"
"Oh nothing," she said, shaking herself out of her trance. "Thank you for your help." She then pulled out a slip of paper, read it, and then gargoyle moved aside, allowing her entrance to Dumbledore's office.
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"Excuse me, sir. Would you happen to know of a Professor Remus J. Lupin?"
Lupin didn't even turn from his work to the soft voice behind him. He was re-hanging and arranging the various tapestries and trinkets in his classroom. That damn Peeves had come in and switched everything around so that the entire room was backwards. It was quite difficult for Lupin to teach – or even get into his room – with his desk lodged in the threshold of the door.
"I should," he said, levitating a Bust of Palace and resting it just above the door, "I've known him all my life."
"Really?" came the voice – belonging to a female, although it sounded a lot slyer than before. "Then could you tell him that a Professor Belfast is looking for him?"
Remus laughed and finally turned around. "Forgive my humor, I'm – " He stopped, staring at the woman in front of him. If he'd still had that Bust of Palace, it would have dropped and shattered into a thousand shards. "- him."
"I know," she smiled, letting small wrinkles glow from the corners of her eyes.
"Ashley," he breathed, and then ran to gather her into an embrace as she playfully laughed.
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It had been three months since Harry's talk with Vanessa, and that was all the more time for him to become her personal watchdog. Even before she'd told him about the rape, he'd had a protective feeling over her. But since then he was down right possessive. He knew that this annoyed her, but he also knew that it amused her quite a bit.
And so he pondered all this while waiting outside Honeydukes for her. Ginny, whom Vanessa normally stayed with when they visited Hogsmede, was stuck back at the school with a nasty flu. This was why Vanessa was taking so long at Honeydukes – she was looking for one of those pops that makes a person feel better when they're sick, but she couldn't decide between Caramel Cures or Raspberry Remedies. Hermione and Ron went ahead, telling her to meet them at Zonko's when she was finished. But Harry, like the faithful little puppy he was, stood outside the shop, constantly checking on her.
He didn't entirely know why he was so obsessive over this, but he was. And to him, it just made sense, plain and simple…a little.
"Harry, Zonko's is not even thirty feet from here. Can you give it a rest?"
Vanessa's nagging tone brought Harry quickly back to Hogsmede. After a moment of recollection, he smiled at her. "Aww, didn't you miss me, Nessie?"
Laughing, she replied, "Why do you call me that? Why not 'Nessa' or 'Vannie' – on second thought, don't call me that."
Harry thought about it. "I guess you just remind me so much of the Loch Ness monster."
Vanessa rolled her eyes, but giggled all the same. They were both laughing, eyes locked, and for some reason, moving closer. It wasn't long before their lips were attached, connecting in a soft, closed kiss. After being seemingly frozen like that for a minute or so, Harry realized just what was happening. Breaking the connection rather sharply, he held Vanessa out at arms length. He bent slightly over and scrunched his eyes a little, as if examining her confused face. Then, grabbing her by the elbow, he whispered, "Come with me," and practically dragged her off in the opposite direction of Zonko's, Vanessa still oblivious to what he was thinking.
What they didn't know, though, what that somebody had seen them. He'd seen the whole thing. But he didn't understand – was it hurt or jealousy that now picked at the edge of his stomach?
Adam Galway eventually turned and walked slowly towards the Three Broomsticks, an uncomfortable feeling tugging heavily at his heart.
A/N: Just a quick clarification. Ashley's arrival and encounter with Remus was around the same time as the kiss.
