CHAPTER 12
THE DREAM

Over the next few days, the trio struggled in dealing with Harry's revelation. Ron was abnormally quiet while Hermione overcompensated, speaking loudly, in sudden bursts with forced excitement about trivial things. Harry winced every time she blurted out questions about how the boys were doing in Divination or with facts from Hogwarts, A History. There was a sort of crazed desperation to Hermione's new rambling and Harry couldn't help but stare at her, startled, every time she erupted into speech.

Ron didn't seem to notice.

It became noticeable enough that Ginny elbowed him at dinner one evening and jerked her head toward her brother. She asked if anything was wrong. Hermione overheard and, with a panicked look, started laughing and then recited a rant about house elf rights that would fail to convince even her of her own cause. Ginny was so unsettled she leaned back in her seat and blinked in bewilderment.

"Is everything...okay?" she asked Harry quietly.

Harry muttered something about the stress of O.W.L.s and silenced Hermione with a warning glare. The poor girl seemed almost grateful and slumped over her food looking utterly worn out.

Even worse was their newfound obsessive worry about Harry's health. The only time Ron came out of his stupor and Hermione seemed to understand her place in the world was when Harry showed any sign of being sick. When he coughed, their heads whipped around and their eyes bore into him, ready to jump into a full interrogation. Why did he cough? What were his other symptoms? Did it feel like it was from his throat or from his lungs? When he felt tired one day and looked a little too grateful to fall into the common room chair after class, the two vultures descended. How much sleep did he get the night before? How tired did he feel on a scale of one to ten? Was it his mind that was tired or his body or both?

Finally, Harry snapped. He grabbed their arms, pulled them into an empty classroom and sternly told them to get a hold of themselves before he completely cracked and ran away from Hogwarts to escape the constant badgering.

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed and sputtered protests that Harry cut off sharply.

"I'll give you detention, Hermione!" he threatened. "I'm a prefect; I can do it."

The corner of Ron's mouth twitched and suddenly the redhead was laughing. Then Harry was laughing and then Hermione. They laughed until tears came.

Harry suspected some of the tears may have been from something other than the laughter, but they all pretended they weren't.

After that, Ron started talking again and Hermione's verbal hysteria died down.

The days went on. They found that Harry had good days and not so good days. Sometimes he felt fine and his magic vibrated impatiently inside of him. On these days, Hermione cast the boys disapproving glances as Ron scouted the room for potential mischief, then signaled Harry who would, with a twitch of a finger, summon sweets from owners who looked away for a moment or move cups around and snicker as the owners blindly reached their hands out for their drinks and missed every time.

Other days, he felt tired and his body ached. On these days, Hogwarts's vast number of staircases seemed an impossible burden and he found himself winded halfway up each one. These days also brought unspoken drama to the dinner table, since he often lost his appetite and Hermione refused to accept it. In general, he found he bruised more easily and there was a small scare when he got a paper cut that refused to stop seeping blood even an hour later. Harry refused to see Madam Pomfrey despite the protests of his friends, knowing she'd figure things out. Hermione finally flung herself at her stack of library books and manically flipped through pages while Ron squeezed a towel around Harry's bleeding finger with both hands, ignoring Harry's complaints that Ron was making his finger go numb.

Hermione finally found a minor healing spell to force blood on the surface of a wound to clot and the crisis came to an abrupt end.

But the bad days were currently much fewer than the good ones, so things were able to reach a level of normality that was different from before, but something they all adjusted to.

After another impressive day in Defense class, demonstrating an awe-inspiring ability to resist the effects of spells that did hit him, Lupin asked Harry to stay after class.

Once Hermione and Ron were persuaded to leave his side, Harry warily approached Lupin's desk. He began to worry that he should have hid the effects of his magic better. What if Lupin had looked into it and had figured it all out?

But instead of looking upset, the professor wore an expression of excitement. He conjured some tea and Harry politely accepted the proffered chipped teacup.

"Harry, your abilities in Defense are...unlike anything I have ever seen, to say the least," Lupin began. "Your parents would be so proud. Lily was an amazing student, but this...well, this is beyond anything even she would have imagined."

Harry frowned into his tea. He felt dirty at the compliment. He didn't want his mother's accomplishments diminished because of this. Because he wasn't really a good student like her. In a way, he was cheating.

He felt terrible, but how could he defend his mother without confessing? He wasn't ready for people to know. They'd be afraid he was leaving them to fight Voldemort on their own when there was an undeniable sense that it was his job. It was best if this news waited until he had a clear plan laid out to defeat the Dark Lord. Once he took care of everything people wanted of him, then they would understand.

Lupin continued enthusiastically. "I spoke with the headmaster and he agreed that extra lessons in Defense might benefit you. If you can learn to use these abilities to their full potential, you could defend yourself in nearly any situation. It would help you in dealing with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. If you're interested in becoming an Auror, there's no way they could turn down your application once they see your performance on your N.E.W.T.s, no matter any weaknesses in other areas."

Harry blushed a little, embarrassed that Lupin was making him out to be some sort of prodigy. "Wouldn't that be a lot of extra work for you?"

Lupin waved a dismissive hand and smiled warmly. "Any extra effort on my part would be rewarded many times over if it helps you defend yourself against even one extra spell. I know you're busy with other classes and Quidditch practices, but if you're up to squeezing this into your schedule about once a week, I think you have depths of untapped potential begging to be explored."

Harry hesitated. It sounded interesting and, with being at the top of a madman's hit list, it did seem practical to buff up his dueling skills, but warning bells flared. It seemed like at some point, people were going to start asking questions.

Still, wasn't one of the reasons behind doing the Recnac spell to defeat Voldemort? He needed this training and if Lupin started suspecting something, it wasn't the end of the world. Harry just preferred that drama to be left until he felt he could better deal with it.

So, he nodded and took a sip of his tea.

-

That night at dinner, he relayed his conversation with Lupin to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione looked doubtful. "Harry, are you sure this is a good idea? That sounds physically demanding and I don't want you getting any worse because of it."

"If I'm not feeling up to it one night, I'll just tell him I have loads of homework or something. Besides, I think it might be handy since Voldemort's so keen on having my head on a stick."

Ron winced in distaste at the image but voiced his support for the idea. Hermione began sternly outlining clear restrictions about when Harry should cancel an extra lesson.

Ron watched in increasing amusement as Harry's fork floated low along the table, stabbed into Hermione's dinner roll, and floated back to Harry's hand. He had been stealing food off her plate with wandless magic throughout dinner and she had yet to notice. Now she only had a scoop of pudding on her plate.

Hermione jutted a finger at him. "Do I make myself clear?"

Harry rolled her eyes. "Yes mother."

Hermione's fork stabbed at her plate and she yelped as it clanged against the ceramic. She blinked at her empty plate, then surveyed the surrounding area as if her food had just jumped off the edge.

"What in the..."

Ron burst out laughing. Hermione looked up at him and then followed his gaze back to her dish where Harry's spoon was scooping up some of her pudding. She made a grab for it but it dodged her grasp and floated quickly back to a grinning Harry.

She shot him an amused glare as he popped the spoon in his mouth.

"Mmm...delicious," he teased through a lopsided grin.

"Boys," she huffed in exasperation. She started refilling her plate, "they're blessed with the power of wandless magic and they use it to steal extra helpings. I would expect this of Ron..."

"Hey!"

Harry grinned happily and took another bite.

-

Meanwhile, Harry had begun tutoring Neville and Eloise in Potions. They met every few days in the library. At first, Harry felt guilty meeting Eloise's eye. Each time he saw the acne on her cheeks he remembered Ron's comments about not wanting to go to the Yule Ball with her because he thought she was ugly. He felt ashamed of having smirked at his friend's dramatics while the object of ridicule was really just a fellow, insecure student.

But Eloise was nice and she had a bluntness about her that Harry enjoyed. She dubbed their study group the "Hated by Snape Club" after hearing stories from the Gryffindor-Slytherin fifth year class and relaying some of her own nightmares with the man. She had to concede that the Potion's master did seem to hold a special place in his shriveled black heart for Neville and Harry, so Harry was the president, Neville was the vice-president and Eloise was the queen. Neville pointed out that this didn't quite fit, but Eloise assured him she was comfortable being a powerless figurehead whose only job was to make them seem a little fancier.

"Alright, so if Snape gave you this list of ingredients and asked you what potion you were making, what would you tell him?" Harry quizzed. The two hunched over the list.

Neville sighed and sat back in his chair.

"I'd tell him to take that list and shove it up his-"

"Neville!" Eloise scolded, hand flying to her chest. "How can you speak that way in front of royalty. My sensibilities are offended."

Harry crossed his arms and chuckled.

"Then," Neville continued proudly, "I'd tell him it was a Campanile Draught."

Harry smiled in approval. His two pupils were coming a long way fast.

"Great, Neville! Seriously, good job. Now, what order would you put them in, how would you prepare the ingredients and why?"

The two scribbled rapidly on pieces of parchment. After a minute, Eloise slammed down her quill.

"Done!" she declared loud and proud...a little too loud in fact. Mrs. Pince shushed her, glaring down the end of her nose.

"Alright, let's hear it then," Harry instructed quietly. Eloise read off her procedure and looked up to Harry for confirmation.

"Good, just one step you forgot. What do you say, Neville?"

Neville took a moment to think and glanced over Eloise's notes. "Crush the adder's scales?" he offered hopefully. Harry nodded and gestured for him to continue into an explanation of why. "...Because it wouldn't mix properly with the hemlock and then the whole thing would become poisonous?"

"Great! You guys will be acing this class soon...well, if Snape gets off our backs, of course." He piled up his stuff and slid them neatly into his book bag.

"Yeah, it's that last step that's the killer, though. But hey, did you see Snape's face when I explained to him how I made our last potion? It looked like he swallowed a Mandrake!" Neville grinned excitedly. Harry laughed and the three exited the library with thankful nods to the grouchy librarian.

"Yeah, I remember. Precious moments in Potions."

"Well I passed the last pop quiz," Eloise noted proudly. In Snape's class, this was no small feat. The two boys applauded and she took a few mock bows. "And I was bragging about it in the halls loud enough that I think Roger Davies may have overheard. He looked over when I said it! Suzan said he was fixing his hair in the mirror behind me, so I guess that could be interpreted as him more looking past me than at me, but I take it as progress."

Harry cocked his head as if straining his ear. "I think I can hear the wedding bells now!"

Neville sniggered and Eloise stuck her tongue out at him.

"You just wait. One day when he isn't distracted by those hiked-up skirts of the seventh-year girls, he'll come crawling to me," she said with a superior tone. "And then he'll buy me a huge diamond ring and profess his undying love that he's just been hiding all these years and we'll buy a house on an island in the Caribbean and live happily ever after."

There was a long silence.

Neville cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Eloise," he said tentatively, "you've given this way too much thought, haven't you?"

Eloise's dreamy expression persevered. "Yes Neville. Yes I have."

-

Harry walked into the Defense classroom. It looked different at night, less active. Of course, the absence of other students helped that image. The desks were all pushed against the walls, leaving a large area to duel. It was weird to know this was all waiting just for him.

But Harry's focus didn't stay on the classroom's setup for long. Down from Lupin's office descended not only the professor, but Dumbledore and McGonagall as well.

"Harry! Right on time," Lupin beamed. "I hope you don't mind an audience."

"An audience for tutoring?" Harry asked unsurely. "Is there really anything to see?"

"Don't feel pressured, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile, leaning against Lupin's desk. "Your head of house and I are simply interested in watching. Professor Lupin says you've shown great skill in Defense."

Harry blushed and adjusted the book bag on his shoulder. "I think I'm just a little ahead 'cause I prepared for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, sir."

"Don't sell yourself short, Harry. My N.E.W.T. students couldn't disarm me with the ease you did. If you'll allow me a lapse of modesty, I have colleagues that would have trouble doing so."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable. "Well, what if you're just going easy on me without realizing it 'cause of my parents?"

"We'll judge that," McGonagall said. Harry got the sense she was trying to disguise her excitement.

Harry dropped his book bag off to the side and Lupin led him to the center of the dueling area.

"All right, Harry, I'm going to bump it up a step from what we did in class. Normally, I would suggest you simply try to block them but I think you can do more. I want you to try and disarm me as quickly as you can."

Harry nodded, casting nervous glances at Dumbledore and McGonagall. This whole situation was a little unnerving.

They bowed and took their positions.

"Begin," Lupin shouted and instantly shot a curse at Harry, who blocked it almost mindlessly before shooting the leg-locker hex back. This time, however, Lupin was ready and dodged it. He shouted a whole succession of curses and Harry had to quickly get used to dodging and blocking a wave of different things. But he quickly got the hang of it and slipped in an "Expelliarmus" and Lupin was disarmed.

"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore applauded. "Your professor is an excellent dueler. I'm amazed you can beat him at all, but especially with such apparent ease."

"Oh, it wasn't all that easy, sir," said Harry, catching his breath. Though the magic had been easy, it had sucked the energy from him. It didn't help that Lupin was good, so Harry had had to do a lot of physical ducking and jumping.

"If it weren't easier for you than other students, you would be disarmed by now," Dumbledore pointed out.

Professor McGonagall smirked in satisfaction, obviously pleased that it was a Gryffindor showing such advanced capabilities.

"If you wouldn't mind, Harry, I would like to try dueling you myself," said the headmaster thoughtfully.

Harry's mouth dropped open and the two professors looked equally surprised.

"Sir? There's no way I'd stand a chance against you," Harry protested, but Dumbledore had already exchanged places with Professor Lupin.

"Perhaps not, but the best way to understand a dueler is to experience being his opponent. I want you to try your absolute hardest to disarm me, understand?"

Harry nodded dumbly. On cue, he bowed and hesitantly took up the ready stance.

"Begin!" Lupin announced.

As curses shot at him, Harry could feel the immense power radiating from them. He dodged and blocked, but it was more difficult than before. Where his magic could fling away Lupin's spells with relative ease, it had to push hard against Dumbledore's. He was hit with one that was supposed to make his legs too wobbly to stand, but Harry fought the effects and was left only slightly unbalanced. He shouted the disarming charm, but the headmaster just reflected it right back and Harry had to throw up a shield that almost broke under the impact. He focused harder, forced himself to concentrate and pay absolute attention.

He quickly blocked another curse and, sensing the headmaster pause to say the next curse, Harry breathlessly shouted, "Expelliarmus!" focusing as much power into it as he could muster.

It was his seeker reflexes that made his hand snatch the wand flying toward it. It took him several moments longer to realize what it meant.

He had won.

The three adults stared openly at their student.

Harry felt weak and his eyes dizzily searched for a nearby chair. Lupin seemed to sense the danger and jumped up. He got to Harry just as the boy's legs gave out and caught him as he fell.

"Whoa there, let's get you to a chair."

He summoned one over and Harry slumped into it. Lupin whipped out his ever-ready chocolate, but even after chewing on a piece, Harry felt drained.

"I think that's all I can do for tonight," he apologized.

"Well I'd certainly say so! I can't believe what I just saw!" said Professor McGonagall, shaking her head slowly.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, "I felt your magic swell while you dueled. The force behind your curses was in the magic itself, not powered by emotion, which is a rare phenomenon. You are an extremely powerful wizard."

Harry blushed, not only at the compliment but also because he knew there was a reason for it he was keeping to himself.

So many secrets.

"Well, I can't always do that. Some days I can do things I can't at other times," he admitted carefully.

"Most curious," Dumbledore mused, but Harry could see he wasn't overly concerned. He seemed too absorbed in what Harry could do rather than why he could do it. "You should rest and we'll explore this further at your next session."

Harry nodded and tiredly lifted his book bag to his shoulder. He left the teachers to talk among themselves.

He trudged back to his dorm and collapsed onto his bed without bothering to change into his pajamas. His books clunked heavily to the ground. He was so thankful he had decided to do this on a Friday. He couldn't fathom starting his homework now. He closed his eyes and was drifting off when the door burst open and light spilled across his face.

He groaned and buried his face into his pillow.

"How was it?" Ron demanded, bouncing onto the edge of Harry's bed. Hermione stood behind him.

"'Mione, you're not supposed to be in here," Harry mumbled into his pillow.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

Harry turned his face to the side so his words were clear. "Fine. Tired."

"Did you beat Lupin again?" Ron asked eagerly.

Harry nodded. "And Dumbledore too."

"What?! You dueled the headmaster?" Hermione squeaked.

"And won?!" Ron echoed enthusiastically.

"I'm sure he went easy on me."

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed. His eyes went a little wild. "You could take over the school! Banish homework and Potion...and Filch!"

"Congratulations, Harry, you should be proud."

Harry's nose crinkled. "No I shouldn't. I cheated, didn't I? I didn't tell them why I can do all this."

"Being powerful isn't cheating," Hermione said softly. "I think it's wise to be cautious with who you tell about your magic. We should talk about who to discuss it with, but if You-Know-Who comes after you again, I want him to be taken by surprise so you can get away before he lays a finger on you." She seemed to realize how exhausted he was if the motherly look was any indication. "Get some sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning."

Ron leaned in, not quite getting the hint. "Wait, how was dueling with Dumbledore? Did he..."

"Come on, Ron." Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room.

Harry welcomed the return of the dark and silence. It was early and Fridays were always particularly late nights for most; his roommates wouldn't be wandering up for hours yet. He was thankful he would have the chance to fall asleep before his roommates barged in to get ready for bed.

He didn't end up needing so much time to fall asleep. He slipped under the moment he closed his eyes.

And then he dreamed...

He stood in a large stone room that struck Harry as cold despite the dozens of torches lining the walls. Harry's eyes followed the line of Death Eaters, all in masks. He wondered if Snape was among them, a spy if Harry had guessed correctly.

Two large doors burst open and Harry's scar exploded in pain. He fell to his knees in a twisted parallel to the Death Eaters who kneeled in the presence of their master. Harry clutched his head and looked up. Voldemort swept gracefully down the line of his followers.

"It is finally time to announce my return."

The Death Eaters lifted their heads. Harry couldn't see their expressions, but could feel the energy swell feverishly. They were eager about something and knowing some of the sickest minds lay behind those masks, Harry was very worried about what they had planned.

"You will find Harry Potter and bring him to me. He will die under my hand and if anyone defies this order, he will face a fate far worse than that silly boy. You may kill any of the faculty except Dumbledore. He too must be captured. I want him to watch his star pupil writhe and scream under my wand. I want Dumbledore to watch his brave little hero beg for death. As for students, no pureblood child will be harmed. After Harry is brought to me, you may dispose of the Mudbloods however you please."

Harry watched in horror. They were going to attack Hogwarts?

"We strike at midnight. Be ready and do not disappoint me."
Voldemort swooped by. The room began to fade away and Harry was falling.