Author's Note: I finally saw Episode Three! I went with my friends Rickie and Sylvia to see it. It was better than the last two (thank goodness), but I still like the original trilogy the best. I hope you all like this chapter. It's a little shorter than the last, but we're coming down to the wire. We're getting close to Hogwarts, people! (Can you feel my excitement?) Hope you enjoy!
"I hope you have a good reason for dragging me out this early, Paul." Paul smiled at his old friend.
"Oh, of course, Joe. You know I wouldn't disturb your precious beauty sleep without a good reason." Paul offered him a cup of coffee, Joe's drink of addiction since their freshmen year, and smiled when the man attacked it.
"So, let's meet this patient of yours. The Dursleys talk about him, but they don't talk about him, if you know what I mean." Paul nodded and led Joe down the hallways. "Exactly why do you have me out at seven in the morning?" He asked.
"Oh, Harry's been up for almost an hour already. He's in class with his martial arts instructor, but it will give me time to brief you on him. Prepare you; I think should be the word I am using." Joe raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes.
"Paul, you have such a flare for the dramatic. What's so special about him?" Paul put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "Stop avoiding the issue." Paul glared at his old friend the best he could with a smile on his face and motioned to the stairs with his head.
"There are some things I can't, literally can't, tell you about him." Paul said as they rounded the corner to the gym. "It took me forever to find the tiniest flaw in his barrier, and believe me, I still haven't made it all the way through. It's like having your head stuck in a crack of a jail. You can see the outside, but that doesn't mean you're there." Joe followed his friend. "I don't want to betray his trust by telling you what he only told me in extreme distress, and had he not been ill at the time, I doubt he would have told me." Joe frowned.
"That is not going to help me with the Dursleys. Their nephew should be in therapy with them to solve the entire family's problems." Paul stopped before the gym door and shook his head.
"No way. He's got some serious issues of his own before I want him to do sessions with his family. I asked about what life was like with them, and he panicked. Shut down. He entrusted some pictures he drew, but he wouldn't tell me." Paul pointed in the window. "He's the short one." He said with a smile.
"What are they doing?" Joe asked. "Just him and the instructors?" Paul nodded.
"Sensei asked for it, and he got it." Paul explained. "Joe, there is something I should tell you about Harry, and that you need to know. I don't know if the Dursleys have told you this, but Harry has been attacked more than once by the man who killed his parents. He seems set on killing Harry as well." Joe turned to look in the window at the boy who was currently being tossed onto the mats. "If Sensei can teach him something that will save his life from that man, I will allow it."
"Tell me that you are joking." Joe said. "Tell me that this is one of those pranks you were so fond of while we were in school." Joe looked at Paul's face. "You're not, are you?" Paul shook his head. "Why haven't they gone to the police?" He asked.
"According to officials, the man is dead. Doesn't exist. Harry knows otherwise, but no one, except for a few of his school officials, believes him. Those school officials do their best to protect him while he is at school, but that man finds him there year after year because that is where his parents went. He has special talents and that school teaches him what no other school can." Joe turned back to the window and watched the boy as he pulled a helmet on his head and the teacher handed him…a wooden sword? What in the world? "Should he be doing that without more padding?"
"I trust Sensei with my life. Harry is safer in there than anywhere else in the world." Paul told him. "Sensei Leonard instinctively knew that Harry had been in fights for his life before." Joe looked at him in disbelief. "Yes, fights for his life. I haven't got all the details, and I'm only telling you this to prepare you. Harry is extremely guarded and does not trust anyone easily. He may take a while to tell you something, if anything. Don't expect to get a lot out of him." Joe nodded and watched while the teacher went after the kid. He was surprised to see the kid handling the sword with some familiarity.
"Has he done this before?" Joe asked, motioning at the swordplay.
"No, today's the first day. Harry's been really excited about it." Paul told him. "Cool, isn't it? He picks up on weapons quickly, from what Sensei says." Both men watched the fight until Harry's legs were knocked out from under him and Sensei held him at sword point. Harry hopped to his feet as Sensei moved away and the two of them started at each other again. "He'll be in the office in an hour. Let's get you some more coffee and I'll tell you just a bit about my work with him. Harry, though, I'll allow him to show you what kind of person he is." Joe nodded and moved away from the door, following Paul down the hall.
"Protego!" Ron shouted, trying to block Moody's spell. The shield shattered and he fell to one knee. Moody stomped over and pulled him back to his feet.
"Again, boy! Hold nothing back! Hesitation will do nothing but get you killed!" Ron nodded and readied himself again.
"Expelliarmus!" Moody shot the spell towards Ron. Ron raised his wand and said the counter spell he had been ordered to use.
"Protego!" Ron watched as his shield held and the other spell ricocheted off to hit the boundary spell and dissipate.
"Better!" Moody said happily. He waved his wand towards the boundary spell and the area around the dueling floor shimmered. "Take a knee, all of you." The other Protectors gathered around Ron and sat. Neville passed Ron a bottle of water. "The enemy has no mercy." Moody started. "It is kill or be killed. The Death Eaters will not hesitate to kill you; you must not hesitate to attack them or kill them if you must. They do not have a conscience; you cannot appeal to their mercy, for they have none." Moody was pacing back and forth in front of his trainees, trying to impart some of his hard-earned knowledge, as well as some of Dumbledore's lessons. "You can trust only each other on the battlefield. No one else." He paused. "What is your prime objective?"
"To fight against evil, sir." The recruits, save one, repeated.
"Who are you to protect?" Moody growled.
"The innocent, the weak, and those who fight against evil, sir." The children, except one, repeated.
"What is your primary charge?" Moody stopped and faced them.
"To protect and guard the Boy-Who-Lived, even if it is from himself, sir." Moody nodded. They had learned their lessons well.
A shape in the shadows watched the proceeding with a firm sneer. He disagreed with those ideas, this training, and the whole project. These were children. Annoying dunderheads, yes, but children. He eyed every one of them. Some were surprises. Longbottom, for one. He had turned out to be quite a remarkable dueler, all thanks to that little clandestine study group the Golden Trio had run last year. They thought that no one knew. He did. He had watched many a session, just as he was doing right now. What no one, not even the omniscient Dumbledore knew, was that the Head of Slytherin House had a secret passageway to this room in his quarters and had often used it to exercise on his own. Heaven forbid anyone should find out, but you didn't survive long as a spy if you couldn't run from your enemies. The DA had almost walked in on him more than once, and he couldn't resist watching students break the "Headmistress Umbridge" rules. Especially with the insufferable know it all being a part of it all and her penchant for following rules.
Now he used it to spy on these proceedings, knowing to his core that this was wrong. It would be an even harder year for Potter…He quickly squashed any feelings of pity. Pity only got you killed. His best friends would be spying on him, "for his own good". Snape almost snorted. Too much was done for that boy's own good, and all of it so far had ended in disaster. Dumbledore's guards from the Order had been pulled from the Dursley's residence and Potter's home when Hogsmeade had been attacked. Dumbledore had "reorganized" the wards so that they would know when a wizard approached the house, but even Snape could point out that anything could happen in the time it took to get there. Snape loathed Potter, that was true, but he didn't want him to die. The Pensieve incident came to mind and he pushed it away. Okay, he had pure loathing for that spoiled brat, but he still didn't want him to die. He had been trying to protect Potter from those images of his father. Who was he to disabuse the boy of his valued father with proof? He had simply enjoyed needling Potter into response so he could assign detention. Potter needed the real world, and Snape gave it to him. Fantasy was not going to save his life. Fantasy, and this little club of Dumbledore's. What a horrible idea. He masked his feelings. Dumbledore could not know these thoughts.
"How are you to do that?" Moody seemed like he wanted to stump them all. With Draught of the Living Death. That is the only way to keep Potter in one place long enough to save his life. Severus thought. He turned his attention back to the children. No one seemed brave enough to take the question.
"As discretely as possible, so we do not arouse his suspicions, sir." Draco called out. There was another surprise. Just before all this madness known as Summer Studies started, Draco had appeared at the gates of Hogwarts beaten with several broken bones. He had only a bag with him and his wand. He spent nearly a week in the hospital wing under Pomfrey's care. When questioned, the only details he would give were that he had seen a Death Eater's meeting and had refused the Dark Mark.
"I grovel to no one." He had told Severus when he had asked why. "Turn me in if you wish. I still won't bow to him." Severus had left spying shortly before Draco had come to Hogwarts. His Mark had burned almost continuously from that day on, making him more snappish, but he told Draco his secret, and had received a surrogate son in return. Draco stayed in the Protectors' dorm, true, but he spent a lot of time with Severus when he wasn't required to be with the others training or studying. Severus had not realized what a comfortable situation having another person around could be.
"Yes! Discretion is vital in protecting of a target." Moody said with pride. "Well done, Malfoy."
"Thank you, sir." Draco answered. Oh, the boy could play the game well.
"Harry Potter is a volatile person. He is emotional, illogical, and extremely vulnerable. It will be up to you to keep him safe." Snape left the Room of Requirement, thankful for the magical shield that protected him from Moody's eyeball, and went back to the room the normal way. Few knew the secrets of Slytherin House, and even less knew how to use them, but as Head of House, he had some certain privileges that others would never have. Salazar Slytherin had his own methods of choosing Heads of House, regardless of the Headmaster or Headmistress. That much Snape knew, and he would never share until another was chosen for Head of House.
He opened the doors and stood in the doorway. Intimidation. Anger. Supreme power. Longbottom exploding a cauldron. Gryffindorwinning the house cup.His mental thoughts worked well. The students all seemed toshrink under his gaze. I love my job. "I've come for my trainees." He drawled. He folded his arms as though he could care less and waited.
"You've done well today." Moody said. Oh, that's right. Stroke their little egos. Set them up for failure. Well done, Mad-eye. "Malfoy, Lovegood, Weasley, Brown, Patil, Spinnet, Bones, Johnson, and Macmillan, report to Professor Snape." Snape turned and left the doorway, causing the students to run after him. He vaguely heard the Patil twins question which one was to go and Moody answered the Gryffindor one, because he couldn't tell them apart. The girl came running after Snape's group. Well, at least she was the one capable of turning out an acceptable potion. The Ravenclaw one was too bookish to do well in a practical setting. Good grades, yes, practical ability, no.
"Take your seats. Instructions are on the board. I must remind you that one mistake in this potion will likely remove all of the skin from your faces." Severus stopped to see who had done their reading. Draco smirked and ducked his head to hide his laughter, while Lovegood retained her always vacant expression. Severus glared at Weasley, who looked panicked. Perfect. "Get started." He conveniently forgot to mention that any explosion would cause the best moisturizing cream known to wizarding and muggle kind. Why ruin his fun to reassure them?
Hermione stumbled out of bed to kill her alarm clock. She pummeled the snooze button without mercy and sunk back under her comforter. She buried herself in her blankets and proceeded to rendezvous with the wizard of her dreams. Nine minutes later found her muttering hexes under her breath, hands itching for her wand. She hit the snooze button to stop the annoying beeping and turned off the alarm. She missed many Muggle things at Hogwarts, but this…destroyer of dreams known as an alarm clock was not one of them by any stretch of the imagination.
After her hot as the sun shower, she dressed, grabbed one of her Hogwarts robes and went down the stairs. An Order member would be escorting her and her parents to Diagon Alley to shop for her school supplies. Hermione knew that getting Harry's books would be difficult, but she was determined to do as she promised. "Morning, Mum." Hermione collapsed at the kitchen table and put her head down on the table.
"Good morning, sweetheart. You look tired." Hermione picked her head up as her mother slid a plate in front of her.
"Oh, thank you." She picked up her fork and started on her eggs. "I'm not tired. My stupid alarm clock interrupted a great dream. I nearly sent it out the window." She swallowed her bite and smiled. "This is great, Mum."
"You're welcome. Oh, a letter came from you." Hermione thanked her and ripped it open. She relaxed at Harry's explanation and smiled.
"Harry got a part in the play. He's Edmund from King Lear. Sensei's working him hard." She smiled as her mother nodded. "He says that Dumbledore equals Obi-wan Kenobi. I can see it. I mean, both are old wizards who had something to do with their charge's life. Obi-wan placed Luke with his aunt and uncle, Dumbledore placed Harry with his aunt and uncle. Both knew the child's father and past." She stopped at her mother's amused look.
"You kids and that movie." Dr. Granger laughed and shook her head.
"Mum!" Hermione said. "Don't tease."
"Oh, I won't." She knelt down next to her daughter's chair and looked her in the eye. "Just don't become one of those people who dress up and go to parties." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Make sure that letter is put away." Hermione finished her breakfast and left to go to her room. She paused in the doorway.
"You know, Mum. I never thought of that before. Harry would really enjoy dressing up like Luke. Maybe we could get the patterns from the Internet and aah!" She ran from her mother who came after her with the spatula. She brushed past her father on the stairs. "Brace yourself, Dad! Mum's gone mad!" Her father stared after her before continuing to the kitchen.
"You've gone mad?" He asked. His wife sighed.
"She was teasing about dressing her and Harry up as Star Wars characters." Dr. Granger gave a little theatrical shudder and kissed his wife.
"Anything but that." He said in a jovial tone. "I wonder what I did with those pictures?" He mumbled.
"If you even think of showing those pictures to her, I will make you cook your own meals." Her husband smiled up at her.
"Thank God for carryout." He ducked as the spatula flew at his head. His daughter was right. She had gone mad. Good thing he was in love with her when she didn't have a spatula in her hand.
"Nuts, the both of you." She told him, finding a new utensil. "Of all the traits you had to pass onto her, you had to give her a science fiction gene!" He looked up from the table, offended.
"Who says Star Wars is fiction?" He demanded. Dr. Granger could only roll her eyes at her husband. A crash from the hallway told them that their Order escort had arrived.
"Hi, Tonks!" Hermione said brightly. Both adults had to fight a groan. Tonks was a disaster waiting to happen.
"We don't have to go anywhere with breakables, do we?" He asked his wife.
"I hope not." She told him. She went to offer breakfast, wondering if she should protect her dishes from the Auror. They had only met her once, but it was enough to give Hermione's parents a lasting impression. Hermione's father sat at the table, wondering where he had left his pictures of his Skywalker and Darth Vader costumes. In the attic, perhaps? More importantly, where were the costumes? He was sure that he still had them.
"Mom, Dad. Distract Tonks. I need to get Harry's books." Hermione whispered as Tonks apologized to each shopkeeper on the Alley for knocking over a display. Her parents both nodded and she ducked into Flourish and Blotts.
"Hello, Hermione!" She smiled at the clerk who seemed to have grown fond of her. "What can we do for you today?"
"I need two copies of each sixth year book on this list." She handed him her list and he nodded.
"I'll get my son on this." He motioned to a rather owlish looking boy who ran forward and shylysmiled at Hermione. Hermione vaguely recalled him from Hogwarts, but he had been at least four years above her and she couldn't remember his name. She smiled back at him as he took her list and left. "I can see some questions burning in there. What extra materials do you need this time?"
"You know me so well. First, I want to thank you for the excellent Occlumency book, Mr. Arcane." The man smiled. "It was a huge help."
"Glad you liked it, Hermione." She looked at her secret list.
"I was wondering if you have any books on wandless magic." Mr. Arcane looked at her.
"And why would you want that?" He asked. "Heavy reading." He told her.
"I'm curious." She told him. "The idea fascinates me. Magic without a wand. It makes me think." Mr. Arcane led her to the back of the shop. He ghosted his hands over the shelves, apparently searching for the right book.
"I will warn you, Hermione. Very few wizards manage it, even less can manage more than a simple spell. It's a very complicated and archaic form of magic. You will not find many good sources here." He pulled out a book and handed it to her. "I can contact my friend at the other store, if you would like."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Arcane. That would be wonderful. I will appreciate any sources you can find for me." Mr. Arcane smiled down at her.
"Still hate that restriction on some books at Hogwarts, eh?" He asked.
"More than ever. How can they restrict knowledge that way?" Mr. Arcane smirked and handed her another book. She smiled and then followed him up to the register. If all he would give her was these two books, that was all Flourish and Blotts had to offer and she would have to wait for the other book.
"Some peoplefeel thatcertain knowledge is not good in the hands of the general public." He told her. His son came stumbling up to the register and dropped the stack on the counter. She thanked him and watched as he turned red and backed away. "Did Harry enjoy the Occlumency book?" He asked in a whisper. Hermione's jaw dropped before she could stop it.
"How-, how did you know?" She asked.
"Mmm, I know many things, Hermione. I keep many secrets and will keep your secret and his as well." Hermione relaxed. "So, did he enjoy it?" He asked with an affable smile and an obvious eagerness.
"Very much. He said it helped a great deal." Mr. Arcane smiled and clapped his hands once.
"Excellent!" He reached under the counter and pulled out two little books. "I've been saving these for you since I had suspicions that you and he were in clandestine contact." Hermione looked at them and raised an eyebrow.
"What are these?" She asked.
"Mini-Messengers." He told her. "They're not to be put on the market until Christmas, but I thought that they were perfect for you and your friend." He flipped one open and unlined pages met Hermione's eyes. "They look like a planner, or a journal. They can be linked to another book," He held up the other "and you and the other person can communicate back and forth. The words are coded once you shut the book and you must say the password to reveal the writing. They are endless, so you never run out of fresh paper." He closed the book. "I can also emboss a name on them, if you would like." Hermione looked at the books. They did indeed look like a tiny journal or planner.
"They're perfect!" She told him. "This will solve many problems this year." She picked one up. "I'll take them. Could you put 'Skywalker' on one and 'Mi' with an 'I' on the other?" Mr. Arcane waved his wand and smiled as Hermione's own smile brightened. He had never met such a curious witch before and Hermione was in a league of all her own when it came to studies. "Password?" He asked.
"Light saber." She said. Mr. Arcane raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he keyed the books to the password. "Thank you so much, Mr. Arcane." The man nodded and rang up the books.
"Hermione, why are there six different books on potions?" He asked. The girl only grinned.
"Professor Snape won't know what hit him this year." She said with an evil little glint in her eyes.
"Good luck to the professor, then. I'd hate to be on the receiving end." He noticed a pink-haired woman coming towards his shop. "I'll send you those references you asked about by owl later, okay?" She nodded as he packed up the books into bags and shrunk the other set. "These will return to normal about six o'clock this evening." He told her. She gave him a conspiratorial smile and nodded.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Arcane, for all of your help. Is it possible for you to copy those resources?" She asked.
"Anything you wish, my dear. I'll send them along." She thanked him again and lugged her bag towards her parents.
"Hermione, you can't run off like that." Tonks lectured. Oh, ticked Aurors were not pretty sights.
"I know, Tonks. But you were taking so long and the books were calling to me and.." Tonks cut her off and ushered her to the door, muttering about obsessive bookworms. Hermione only smiled. She had gotten away with it. Tomorrow she could visit Harry and give him his books. Look out, Protectors. They wouldn't know what hit them either. Half of the Defense books she had on her list weren't requested by the teacher.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please let me know how I'm doing. Sylvia is scribbling away in her room and has basically left me on my own with a muttered "you're doing fine". Her Muse has called and I haven't seen her except when she's scavenging for food in our nearly bare kitchen. Yeah, we need to go grocery shopping. Please review and save me from thinking about pizza. Mmm, pizza!